For 2022 I set myself a reading challenge. Not a numbers-based one, mostly because competitive reading irks me (so judge away if you think I didn’t read ‘much’ this year). Instead, I set myself the challenge only to read Queer books for a year.
I wasn’t sure how easy that would be, some might say super easy, but that’s also why. The why is that this was never an option when I was younger. Sure it would have been possible, but only with some serious time investment in finding out which books are queer, finding places that sold them, and getting them. Now you can filter by LGBTQ on any bookseller site almost. You can go into a library and find a big fiction section. Lots have changed. This blog is in part, a reflection on that and what I got from that year of reading queer.
Firstly what are the rules? I don’t know; I just made this up on a whim. But really, I went with ‘book with the queer protagonist and/or queer storyline,’ so for argument's sake, a story might have a queer main character but not an overtly queer storyline (So say, Hank Green’s An Absolutely Remarkable Thing for example where the main character happens to be queer, but the story isn’t about their sexuality or romance, etc.) and that would still count. Mostly, the books are about queer characters involving some queer relationship because that’s just how my reading panned out.
So how easy was it? Fairly easy, which is a wonderful thing to say. I still have a long TBR and wishlist of queer books. A few times, I was tempted to read more heterosexual stories, but I resisted the call of the trendy books doing the calling. The straights will always be there, so I stayed in my queer pool for a year and played there.
A note on diversity: could my reading have covered more diversity 100% I’m a work in progress; we all are. But also, I give myself grace as a queer person seeking representation in what I read. And for seeking the representation we need at a particular time (for me right now, that’s mental health, neurodiversity, and asexual representation). Also, I hadn’t heard that the Evelyn Hugo book was ‘problematic’ before I read it. It was meh anyway. Don’t cancel me.
So what did a year of queer reading do for me? It really…made me feel…normal. It’s that simple and that wonderful.
For straight folks reading this, it’s something that we queer folks both don’t notice because we’re used to it but notice constantly; we’re always an exception, an outsider. Reading only queer stories all year made me feel like I imagine straight people do, like every story was about me. Wow, that’s what that’s like.
But really I read across a variety of stories- from teens to adults, from outright romance (some outright filth, if we’re honest), to stories about family…and they all had queer characters at heart. Did the queer characters struggle like we do in real life? Sure. But in only reading about queer stories, slowly and surely, it began to feel like I lived- or at least read- in a little queer bubble, which was…nice. It feels nice to read stories where you’re not feeling like a token character. And to choose for me to put queer experience at the centre of what I was consuming.
What also felt good was to put queer authors at the centre of my reading. It wasn’t a hard rule to only read queer authors, and personally, I don’t believe hard and fast rules about queer authors only writing queer stories works either. But most authors I read were queer, and I believe in sending that message to the publishing powers that be. Especially after in late 2021, having a conversation with an agent myself who said, ‘gay stories aren’t money makers so i’m not interested’ sometimes the only answer is to prove them wrong. I will continue to put money into the pockets of queer authors it it helps.
Speaking of the money and mechanisms of publishing, I also read a good few self-published authors this year. A lot of queer writing still takes that route because of the above. Some of them I knew were self-published when I picked them some I only realised when I went back for more from that author. This goes to show…it really doesn’t matter how you publish your work if the quality is there, a reader won’t care. I’m thrilled some of those authors are self-published because they are writing more quickly, giving me more to read faster than they would traditionally. Also, in hard cash terms, I’m more than happy to be putting money directly in their pockets rather than a publisher. Once again, if the story and writing is there…I don’t care who published it. And spoiler alert, those authors rank higher than some of the famous-es on my list. And actually, not remotely in an ‘not like other readers’ way I’d encourage anyone who has read any of the ‘big’ queer books (some of which are on my list, some I loved, some were ok) to branch out, read an indie press queer book, read a self-published queer book…because actually those are the ones pushing the boundaries, those are the ones embracing perhaps the fringes of queer experience more than mainstream queer books (that’s perhaps another blog in itself).
So what did I read, and what did I like? There are some specifics at the end. I did read a fair bit of YA, and I think that’s partly, it was a tough year, I wanted easy reads. But also, again, because there was so little of that available to me when I was younger. I also read a lot of romance, and even though I’m asexual, I am also someone raised by and a lover of romcoms. An interesting element, though, is that I find straight romances generally not to be my thing. And I always thought, fine it just wasn’t the genre for me…turns out actually just, straight romance wasn’t the genre for me. Give me all the queer romance…once again shows that representation and seeing yourself in work matters. It wasn’t the romance I disliked it was the forced heterosexual (often patriarchal, cough cough) stories I disliked. Now ‘not all straight romance’ etc of course, and it’s good to read about experiences different from your own. But once again we’re back to not having the option for reading about alternatives, about the worlds that reflect your own. Actually once I immersed myself in reading queer romance, once I let that become my norm…I loved romance books. Of course this isn’t an exact science, but more general observations, but it does for me indicate the power of immersing yourself in a world that feels like yours.
The one area I found reading queer limiting in was detective stories…I don’t read a whole lot of crime/detective stuff, but my mother does, and I occasionally will pick up one she recommends as a change. But there are few (none?) that feature queer stories at the centre (at least none that aren’t ‘bury your gays’ type ones). I mentioned Hank Green’s book above, which I read in late 2021, but we are also missing books where adventures happen to Queer characters too (TJ Klune is another writer who springs to mind for that genre). Its not that these books aren’t out there, but they’re harder to find and read. We’re doing better at various stories, but we can do even better at helping people find them. I would love more of these what I call ‘incidentally queer’ stories in my list- the kinds where there’s a queer character but their queerness isn’t the focus of the story, they just happen to be a queer detective or superhero or whatever. Again it’s the stuff straight folks take for granted in their reading but for queer readers is still a novelty.
Did I look at this list and feel momentarily ‘not good enough’ for not reading enough in numbers, or enough in genres, or diversity or perceived quality? Yes. Because sadly, despite all the good social media does books (and I wholeheartedly believe it does a lot of good), it also skews our perspective. Particularly the perspective of reading for joy. But I will not let myself feel bad for not reading a variety of genres in my year of experimentation, just reading queer stories. Because I read books that served me. I read fiction for pleasure, and the books I read, on the whole, all brought me joy. Perhaps one or two were for me a slog to finish, maybe 3-4 I felt overall ‘meh’ about, and that’s not bad. I finished all the books I started (and I’m a big believer in giving up on ones you don’t like). And I got a lot from them- I laughed, cried, and had my heart warmed. And that’s what matters really; queer joy at queer works.
Above all, what this year felt like was making up for the lost time. This probably sounds ridiculous to younger readers, but in all honesty, I think I’ll always be making up for the lost time. I was a child of Section 28. True generation Section 28 in fact, in that my whole schooling was under it. Meaning even the queer books we read (the one queer book we read, The Color Purple) wasn't allowed to be queer. I grew up in a time when we didn’t talk about the queer literature that did exist, those hidden histories and hidden stories of authors unable to show their true selves on the page. And then, as I grew up, still those stories were hard to come by a small dusty corner of a library. Or a shelf or two in the big bookshops in London (going to Foyles was an adventure). The ‘gay’ bookshops were still not places we went to until later. Slowly things changed, but for those of us who grew up without, the world today where there is an abundance (still not enough, but an abundance) of queer stories to read seems…still impossible.
So while some of the TikTok readers out there might find it absurd to deliberately or even need to seek out a year of queer reading, I did it for teenage me who couldn’t. I can’t get those years of reading back; I can’t get those formative books back, I can’t get back how they would have changed me or allowed me to be more me when I needed that. But I can try. A year of queer reading allowed me to feel more me, even now in my late 30s. Because those stories are important, they’re vital. I was a child who grew up lost in stories, but the stories were never my own. Now they can be.
So what did I love in my reading list? What was ‘meh’? (full list bellow).
On the ‘meh’, I’ll put Evelyn Hugo. I hadn’t read the hype just saw people talking about it, and it was…fine. I also appreciate the backlash to it and I respect the criticisms. I didn’t hate it; I’m glad I ticked it off to form an opinion…my opinion is largely there are better books to spend your time and money on. I was also sad not to love ‘I Kissed Shara Weaver’ by Casey McQuiston. But also, you know what, I enjoyed their other books (I personally prefer the slightly weirder ‘One Last Stop’ over Red White and Royal Blue), and its ok not to love love every book by an author you like (it’s still a good book, do read it I was just sad not to love love it).
Of the ‘popular’ or ‘mainstream’ books, I’d say ‘Husband Material’ was my top of those. Alexis Hall is a really witty engaging writer (Do read the baking related books by Hall as well). But also one with a lot of heart. A bit in Husband Material caught me unawares with the emotion it packed, and I loved it for it. I also loved the book for its unconventional approach to talking about love and romance (again, the asexual in me).
Of the YA I read, ‘The Passing Playbook’ was an unexpected delight. Anything by Sophie Gonzales is also. And despite finally reading the graphic novel series of the year, Heartstopper (which is delightful), I finally read all of Check Please, which I read the first installment of online years ago, and it warmed every part of my heart. If you love Heartstopper, please also read Check Please.
My favourite books of the year were two sets of hockey-themed books. Firstly Gravity by Tal Baur, which, while a very horny little hockey book (call it like it is), also unexpectedly hits you right in the feels in the third act, and I loved it. Similarly, the Him, Us, Epic series, while on the surface a college romance set against hockey, is also underscored with some impactful commentary on coming out, homophobia (biphobia too), and being allowed to be out in sports. That trilogy (Epic is a short novella) is also a lot of fun. These books were all self-published, yes a little bit niche, yes, a little bit silly romance but you know what…they are my favourites of the year (and also, the mainstream queer books are also silly romance with bigger marketing budgets sooooo….).
Finally, this was also a year of getting to read some more asexual representation I started the year with a re-read of The Charm Offensive and ended it with Kiss Her Once For me, both from Alison Cochrun, and her work makes me feel seen. Not only for mention of visiting the Doctor Who experience, or that evermore is a classic Christmas album now. But also for asexual representation, for mental health and neurodiverse representation, and for all those types of puzzle pieces that don’t fit finding their place to fit.
And that really was what reading queer books for a year was about; feeling like there’s a place I fit. I won’t necessarily stick hard and fast to the no straight books rule forever (got to let the straights get some representation I suppose). But actually, if reading for fun, can also make me feel like I fit in, then why not follow that instinct?
If you’re shopping for Queer books might I suggest some of the following places:
Pned o Ge (also found at The Queer Emporium)
And of course a classic Gay’s the Word
Or you can use bookshop.org to support independent booksellers too
Books
Fiction
Him- Sarina Bowen with Elle Kennedy
Us- Sarina Bowen with Elle Kennedy
Epic- Sarina Bowen with Elle Kennedy
Boy Friends- Michael Pedersen
Husband Material – Alexis Hall
Rosalie Palmer Takes Care- Alexis Hall
Gravity- Tal Bauer
Where We Go From Here- Lucas Rocha
Nate Plus One- Kevin van Whye
Nick and Charlie- Alice Oseman
The Charm Offensive- Alison Cochrun
A Charmed Christmas- Alison Cochrun
Kiss Her once For Me- Alison Cochrun.
Never Been Kissed- Timothy Janosky
You’re a Mean One Matthew Prince- Timothy Janovsky
I kissed Shara Wheeler- Casey McQuiston
Check Please 1
Check Please 2
Check Pleaase 3
Check Please 4 – Ngozi Ukazu
Date Me Bryson Keller- Kevin Van Whye
Detransition Baby – Torrey Peters
The Passing Playbook- Issac Fitzsimons
If This Gets Out – Sophie Gonzales Cale Dietrch
What if It’s Us- Becky Abertalli, Adam Silvera
Heartstopper vols 1
Hearstopper vol 2
Heartstopper Vol 3
Hearstopper vol 4- Alice Oseman
Loveless- Alice Osman
Here’s to Us- Becky Abertalli Adam Silvera
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo- Taylor Jenkins Reid
Scattered Showers- Rainbow Rowell
Tell Me More Tell Me More- Sophie Gonzales
Nonfiction
Different, Not Less: A Neurodivergent's Guide to Embracing Your True Self and Finding Your Happily Ever After- Chloe Hayden
The Game- Ken Dryden
Toronto and the Maple Leafs: A City and its Team- Ron Ellis, Lance Hornby
Baggage- Alan Cumming
(other nonfiction books were read for research but I left them off this list…)
A year of reading Queer
I did something very similar for 2021; I blogged about the books I had read from January to Pride month at https://medium.com/nowt-so-queer-as-folk/queer-fiction-is-bringing-me-joy-fe12452b24d and I have a half-written blog of the rest (I'll privately send you the draft link), but Goodreads' "Year in review" is probably the easiest place to look: https://www.goodreads.com/user/year_in_books/2021/4836293 ; there's a link at the top to go forward to 2022, which contains a few cis-het authors writing cis-het characters, but only a few.
Of my reads over the last couple of years, there's some crime/detective stuff — notably another Tal Bauer ("The Murder Between Us", the first in a series) and "Divas, Death & Drag" by Shane K Morton. From the opposite perspective, "Base Notes" by Lara Elena Donnelly has a queer serial-killer protagonist (whose gender is never mentioned, incidentally) and was a *great* read. "A Master of Djinn" by P Djèlí Clark has a sapphic detective protag in an alt-historic supernatural 1912 Cairo and while "A Memory Called Empire" is an sf political thriller, a significant part of the plot is "what happened to my predecessor; how and why did he die?". In more of a macho-bullshit kind of thriller, "The Chaos Kind" by Barry Eisler has a queer male protag where his queerness is not used as a plot engine.
For queer characters on a more fantasy Quest adventure, "Paladin's Hope" by T Kingfisher is easily one of my favourite reads of 2021, which I picked up after seeing it blurbed on Twitter with “Do pick it up if you like idiots in love and murder houses”. I'd also recommend Freya Marske's "The Last Binding" trilogy, set in an Edwardian England with magic — the first ("A Marvellous Light") has a *wonderful* grumpy librarian / sunshine himbo m/m pair, the sequel ("A Restless Truth") came out recently and has an f/f pair of protags, blurbed with "Magic! Murder! Shipboard Romance!"; the 3rd is due out in November 2023.
Not connected to your genre wishlist but that I absolutely have to plug anyway: "Summer Sons" by Lee Mandelo has a protagonist where a character literally laughs out loud when he claims not to be straight and is best described by the Chicago Review of Books' hed "Cold Ghosts, Fast Cars, Hot Mess". Naseem Jamnia's "The Bruising of Qilwa" has an ace, non-binary protag doing blood magic; John Scalzi's "The Kaijū Preservation Society" is a lot of fun; and Alexandra Rowland's "A Taste of Gold and Iron" is just lovely (m/m low-fantasy).
I think that'll do for now, but I am very much open to requests for more queer recs 😉