Get Off Your Duff Reading List: LGBTQ+ Edition

By doing this little series I've found, much unexpected, but not surprising, that most of the LGBTQIA+ books out there are geared towards young adults in the high school range (more on this later) and most are about gay boys. It was actually very difficult to find any novels written specifically to represent that 'A', for asexual, or 'I' for intersex. There's also not much as far as trans masc literature is concerned (where a cis female transitions into a male). To that end, the first (to my knowledge) middle age (10+) trans masc novel is coming out in September that specifically tackles a middle schooler's transition, before and after.

To give you a snapshot of the LGBTQIA+ genre, I've tallied up the titles representing each letter that make up this list. The following is just a snapshot, but you can tell where the genre's bias lies just from this list alone. You'll also notice that these numbers don't add up to 25. This is because a handful of books on this list covered more than one sexuality, so some titles are tallied more than once.

Lesbian: 7; Gay: 13; Bisexual: 4; Transgender: 4; Queer: 1; Intersex: 1; Asexual: 2; Pansexual: 3; Gender Fluid/Nonconforming: 3

Most of these authors are also on the rainbow spectrum, but some are not. An oft-quoted saying in the writing world is to "write what you know" and I therefore find it kind of odd that someone would try and tackle something they so clearly couldn't possibly understand. Maybe it's just me, but writing fiction is one thing. Writing someone else's fact as fiction is a line I don't think should be crossed. But who am I to judge?

Most of the books on this list are young adult (YA) fiction. If they aren't I have noted that next to the title. I realize this isn't the best all-encompassing snapshot of the genre, but for whatever reason, these books were available at my local public library. This is by no means even close to an exhaustive list. There are tons of instagram pages, youtube channels, and blogs dedicated to reviewing LGBTQIA+ literature. I recommend you do some internet searching to find more glorious titles to read.

As a general note, it would be really brilliant to see more LGBTQIA+ novels geared towards middle schoolers and college students. Middle school is the age when the majority of "gee, I'm not straight" is going to start truly being realized; college is where kids are finally able to create themselves exactly the way they see themselves. As a genre and a community, I think it's kind of paramount that younger and older kids are given someone their age to look to. So they see that they're not too young (or too old) to know or discover themselves, know who they are inside, and be true to that inner voice.

These titles aren't presented in any order, other than the order in which I read them. Some are better, some are worse, and it really all depends on what you're looking for. I talk about the relative merits (and shortcomings) of each individually and give a general synopsis of each title, without giving any spoilers away (unless they could be a trigger). I hope as an ally you learn about all the different rainbow spectrum experiences out there; and I hope for all you lovely, colourful folks on the rainbow spectrum, you see yourself represented within these pages and know that you are not alone and that you are loved.

1: You Asked for Perfect (Gay)

Centered around a high-achieving senior in high school, You Asked for Perfect follows bisexual Ariel (pronounced like a pirate, not like the mermaid) through the stress-filled semester leading up to his big Harvard application. Published in 2019, this YA novel focuses more on the unhealthy standards high school—specifically AP classes—holds students to—especially those looking to get into a top tier university—rather than the same sex relationship born out of a failed calculus quiz. It's a quaint read, but I actually think this book tries a bit too hard to tick all the boxes: there's a bisexual, Jewish protagonist; a gay, Pakistani boyfriend; a lesbian, Korean best friend; a female, Muslim producer; an Indian arch nemesis; two interracial couples, one same sex, one not; a smart, glasses-wearing football star; the list, shockingly, goes on. And everyone is out and everyone's parents' are accepting and supportive and, other than the failed calc quiz, it's all peaches and froyo. All the real life stuff is a bit too perfect to contrast the spiral of doom academic load Ariel finds himself faced with. While I definitely remember the pressure of too many AP classes and the stress of getting into a good uni (and the subsequent mental breakdowns that accompanied each) standing out in my high school career, I feel like too many of the 259 pages focused on tests and extra credit papers and not on character development or natural relationship friction. You Asked for Perfect is real, but it's a bit pretty. On the plus side, Silverman includes her nana's matzo ball soup recipe at the end, so there's that. TBD if it's as good as Ariel says it is. I'll be sure to give a full report once I've tried it out.

Two Sentence Review: If you're looking for a character struggling to accept their own bisexuality to connect with, you're better off looking elsewhere. However, if you're looking to commiserate over the undue pressure placed on high schoolers these days, this one's for you.

2: Georgia Peaches and other Forbidden Fruit (Lesbian)

Unlike all the other titles on this list, Georgia Peaches and other Forbidden Fruit somehow manages to bring us lesbian pride and good Christian folk in equal measure, and not totally piss us off in the process. Jo(anna) is out and proud... until her reverend father moves them from open-minded Atlanta to conservative Rome, Georgia at the behest of his third wife. Told entirely from Jo's point of view, we get to follow along as she embarks on the impossible: a year of lying low and being straight until she graduates. As is to be expected anytime someone tries to hide who they truly are, hilarity and headache ensue. Brown does a great job capturing the fears and priorities of a 17-year-old senior in high school: not drawing attention in class, making it to summer and the road trip of a lifetime, and whoa, did the cute girl in the third row just turn around and wink at me!? And those good Christian folk, turns out our out and proud heroine is one of them. In an interesting plot twist that really flips the script on your run-of-the-mill LGBTQ+ novel, our lesbian heroine is not only a devout and practicing Christian, but also wants to produce a Christian radio show for teens all about the issues teens face, especially those in the LGBTQ+ community. Jo's time is split between church, school, lying low, and checking out the tall girl in the third pew. A total roller coaster that deals with self-respect, how far we're willing to go for the ones we love, and boundaries of all shapes and sizes, Peaches is the book to read if you're questioning whether coming out is/was the right thing to do. I will caution, however, that this is not necessarily a benign place to start if you're looking for a book to ease you into LGBTQ+ culture. For being a bunch of good Christian girls, there is a liberal use of four letter words and TMI-worthy descriptions.

Two Sentence Review: Trying to be someone you're not is never a good idea, especially when failing could have such disastrous consequences. For anyone who has ever had to hide who they are, out of fear of rejection, for their own safety, or out of love for a closed-minded relative, this one will surely resonate with you.

3: I'll Give You the Sun (Middle & High School; Gay)

A must read for any creative, artsy types out there, I'll Give You the Sun is all about Noah and Jude Sweetwine, two artistically gifted twins with very different outlooks on life. Jude is a superstitious sculptor that walks around in oversized sweaters with onions in her pockets just trying not to be noticed. Noah thinks in colour and paints everyone's face beneath their face in his mind, never touching a single brush. But it didn't used to be this way. Masterfully written from the two twins' opposing viewpoints, each has a key part of the puzzle, but without the other's part they are both left floundering in a sea of unanswered what ifs and what might have beens. More than just an LGBTQ+ novel, this is a book about all relationships: parents, siblings, lovers, and everyone in between. How we define ourselves based on our relationships and how those relationships define us (and how both can change over time) is a central theme across the three-year timespan Nelson covers during the twins' time in middle and high school. Perhaps my favourite part, other than the NoahandJude smoosh (you'll just have to read it to find out), is how realistically Noah's gay relationship is portrayed, complete with the all too familiar anxiety of determining if you should "go for it" and what to do when neither one of you is out. It was very real and authentic and not at all sugar-coated as some others have been. And while the crux of I'll Give You the Sun is the twins' relationship to each other, their relationship is impacted by the relationships they each build independently and the development of how being gay (or not being gay) and being an artist (or not being an artist) impacts these relationships was one of the most enjoyable aspects of this book. I'll Give You the Sun is the kind of read that makes you grow right along with the characters so you all end up bigger people by the end of the story.

Two Sentence Review: Twins NoahandJude are inseparable, until they're not, but through their calving and coalescing process they will discover many new ways to love and be loved, and end up closer than they ever thought possible. A must read for anyone who has ever had a relationship on the rocks.

4: What if it's Us (Gay)

Perfect for anyone who loves New York, Broadway, Dear Evan Hansen, TATBILB, a solid bromance, and meet cutes in general. Above all, What if it's Us is wholesome. Two totally wholesome boys—Ben and Arthur—have two pretty wholesome families, two definitely wholesome groups of friends, and four mostly wholesome first dates. There are some pretty big blunders—like dedicating a song about a rat to a karaoke date—but by an act of the universe and sheer will, Ben and Arthur manage to make their one summer together work out for the best. While the inner-workings of this book are very sunshine and rainbows, I appreciated how it also takes a step back and away from the main characters' inside points-of-view to paint them the way the outside world might see them: two boys, holding hands on the subway. Which, granted, might not make much sense now, but if you know, you know. There's also the added twist of Ben being a white-passing Puerto Rican, and while it's not a focal point of the story, there are several times that Ben has to grapple with the consequences of this, publicly and personally. It was a nice touch of realism and an easy way to connect with Ben's character on a deeper level, especially for anyone of mixed heritage or who doesn't "look the part" they play. Pretty far on the stereotypical end of the spectrum (you know, where the gay guy goes around belting Hamilton lyrics and the straight guy changes his girlfriend more frequently than his socks), Albertalli and Silvera somehow manage to hit every trope, but not induce an eye roll in the process. I found myself metaphorically pinching cheeks and literally squealing throughout because it was just that darn cute of a read.

Two Sentence Review: Arthur trusts the Universe implicitly; Ben thinks the Universe needs to mind its own damn business. When an act of fate brings these two together, but real life keeps forcing them apart, will the two boys be able to find a way, amidst the chaos of their totally different lives, to keep coming back to each other?

Addendum: The sequel is due out in the Fall of this year (2021) and you best believe I'll be reading it as soon as it hits shelves.

5: The Music of What Happens (Gay)

This book starts with a summer-before-senior-year-of-high-school vibe, but sweet gay Jesus it don’t stay that way for long! The themes and actual events that unfold (mostly not of the sexy nature) are in no way your average 17-year-old dramas. Mature content. Mature characters (and not in the way you’d expect). This book shows you just how much growing up you have to do. And I read it at the age of twenty-six, so yeah, not the target audience, but damn! I will grant a quick trigger warning/spoiler alert:

*a boy gets raped*

But actually, and hear me out here, the whole process was more reassuring and cathartic than it was triggering. There’s a whole lot of healing in this book. And who don’t need some good ‘ole healing in their life? The Music of What Happens is not at all what I was expecting from a teen gay romance novel, but there's a reason why Bill Konigsberg is included more than once on this book list. Konigsberg's writing is real and authentic and RAW. His words are powerful and he smashes stereotypes and debunks myths right and left. This book awoke me from a stupor I didn't know I was in. As in, reading it made me more "woke," or at least I think that's how the kids say it. Seriously such an important Ally read, because you can be cool with your BFF being gay and still be a bigot (and a hypocrite too).

Two Sentence Review: Max is your typical chill, sporty dude bro; Jordan is anything but. Both Max and Jordan have a problem they can't solve on their own, and they're going to find that by working together they can create a better life for themselves, and maybe find love along the way.

6: Symptoms of Being Human (Gender Fluid)

The only book on this list about gender fluidity, Symptoms of Being Human is one doozy of a read. It all starts with a single question: boy or girl? And for Riley, the answer is yes. Which is why pronoun-less Riley starts an anonymous blog, at the behest of their therapist. Turns out, the blog goes from therapist-assigned homework to queer helpline sensation overnight... literally! By answering one anonymous message from a suicidal transgender teen, Riley is catapulted—via their pseudonym Alix—into the national spotlight. One thing leads to another and pretty soon introverted, social-anxiety-riddled, laying-low-child-of-a-congressman Riley goes from anonymous blogger to guest speaker at Trans Health Con. But not before Riley's identity (and orientation) is discovered by a cyberbully and leaked to the press right before their dad's big reelection campaign. As if that weren't enough, Riley is stalked by their school bullies IRL and even sexually assaulted by three of them. And it's here that Garvin's meticulous research shines through. Inspired by the true story of a transgender teen who sued their school district for the right to use the girls' locker room, Symptoms of Being Human really tackles quite well the very real anxiety and depression omnipresent in LGBTQ+ youth and the very real harassment they face just for being themselves. Riley struggles to come out to their parents and when they're finally forced to, it doesn't go well. There are no rainbow streamers and hugs all around. Five points for Garvin. Riley struggles to determine if the girl they like likes them back or is put off by their gender fluidity. Ten points for Garvin. Riley doesn't immediately bounce back from being sexually assaulted, and the mental and emotional toll are very drastic and obvious. 80,000 points for Garvin. This book is real, real, real, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it and how refreshing it is after reading so many books where everyone is gung-ho and accepting and it's rainbow unicorns and gay love galore. While this book could be triggering for some, I mostly think it's a required read, if for no other reason than how often do you encounter a gender fluid character?

Two Sentence Review: High school sucks; it sucks even more if you have anxiety and gender dysphoria and it especially sucks when you're the new kid and the "in" crowd refers to you as It. But as Riley finds out, all you need to conquer high school (and stick it to your bullies at the same time) is a few solid friends, a quick wit, and a cause.

7: Red, White & Royal Blue (New Adult (uni); Gay)

For being McQuiston's debut, Red, White & Royal Blue sure doesn't disappoint. I was laughing so hard I was crying at many points throughout this book, and wishing I could reach into the book and give a character a hug or high five at least as many times. And I have to say, it was really refreshing to read a book not about pathetic high school drama for once, but that's on me. Through sheer dumb luck, this is the first book in this LGBTQ+ series that hasn't been young adult and set from the perspective of a high school student. I guess it's good there are heaps of books out there that show queer high schoolers being proud of who they are, but I also know there are plenty of college-age folks who are still securely in the closet. It's nice to finally see that camp at least partially recognized. And guess what y'all! This book, that has a bi-sexual main character, was actually written by a bi-sexual author! Fancy that! And an even bigger GUESS WHAT, it freaking shows! At no point did I find myself thinking wow, these characters' feelings feel really well researched. I wonder how this straight, middle-age author was able to put themselves in the shoes of a queer high schooler. Now maybe that's because McQuiston is closer in age to her characters (all in their early to mid twenties) than the previous authors on this list, or because her sexuallity matches her protagonist's, but I guess that's for her to know and us to wonder. Either way, this was a thoroughly enjoyable read. A small warning for the more modest sensibilities out there: the book's gay couple really enjoy their time together, if you know what I mean. That's not to say this book is smut—there were never any gory details—but, like, it comes up... a few times... But it never detracts from the central themes of finding yourself, loving yourself, and loving your loved ones "for forever."

Two Sentence Review: Alex is the son of the US President; Henry is second in line for the English crown; oh, and there was a little misunderstanding at the Rio olympics, which results in a massive, $75,000 misunderstanding at the royal wedding a few years later. Throw in a PR scheme to save face (and the presidential campaign) after said $75,000 misunderstanding, Alex's newfound bisexuallity, and the fact that all those years of polo have done great things for Henry's ass and there's absolutely no way on either side of the Atlantic that this can go wrong.

8: The Gravity of Us (Gay)

The Gravity of Us is a tricky one for me. There is nothing inherently bad, or wrong, or poor about this book, I just didn't like it that much. To start out with somewhat of a not really spoiler alert, the main crux of this book is an impending trip to Mars by NASA astronauts. To cover the hype leading up to the big mission, a reality TV show has been created and given exclusive rights to the astronauts and their families and thus ensues a lot of drama, as can be expected whenever a reality TV show is involved. I felt like the majority of the book and the plot points were spent—and in my opinion, wasted—on that drama. Cal is the son of the 20th and final astronaut to be added to the team and he's already sort of famous in his own right before his father's astronaut status is even announced. By way of a TikTok/Instagram lovechild app, FlashFame, Cal has already started embarking on his social media journalism career... as a junior in high school. Then he makes enemies with the reality show host. Then he saves the Mars mission by doing some solid journalism. Then it's T-5 and somewhere in there he falls in love with the boy next door and decides that he doesn't hate Texas anymore and wants to stay for college... and it's been less than a year and he never attended a single day of school. It was just an odd read. Kind of like a Dan Brown novel, where all this crazy stuff happens and the characters are everywhere and all over the place and humanity is saved, and then you sit back and realize that it all took place over a weekend, no one had to call out sick from work, and oh, apparently nobody eats, either. The Gravity of Us is a lot like that. Lots of stuff happens, it's all big and monumental, and yet the time frame and scale are so absurd that even though it was a good story, you don't find yourself loving it. Stamper's writing style is perfectly fine, and indeed there are a few good quotes and nuggets of wisdom sprinkled throughout, but whether by accident or on purpose, his characters seem a bit... tropeified? I hesitate to say one-dimensional, but they are all very expected and maybe stereotypical. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and might've even been done for effect to layer average people on top of a less than average event (going to Mars), but it made for a less than engaging read. So I guess in summary, not bad, not good, just kind of schmeh. I wouldn't put it on the top of your reading list, but I wouldn't totally discount it, either. Not super ideal for allies or people trying to see themselves represented in print media, since how many of us have parents headed to Mars?

Two Sentence Review: Cal loves the spotlight, Leon does not, and they both deal with fame very differently. Will their differences get the better of them, or will they be able to find a safe harbour in each other—only a Mars launch will tell.

9: Openly Straight (Gay)

Remember how I said Bill Konigsberg would be making the list again? Well, here he is! And I'm really glad he's back. Konigsberg has a way with words and writing characters that just makes them so much fun to get to know. They are real: equal parts flawed and perfect. They are believable, I never find myself doubting the reality of any scenario he puts forth, and for me, realistic portrayals of real struggles are everything. A book will completely lose my interest if the plot points are too fanciful (in a non-fantasy book, obviously) and that never happens with a Konigsberg book. He is somehow able to get right to the core of any issue and has mastered dissecting the intricate and delicate layers of the human psyche in a way I don't think I've ever witnessed in a YA book before. In this work of art, Konigsberg tackles labels, resolutions, and what it actually means to be authentic to ourselves. What I loved most about this read was the (very real) conflict and how it got resolved. Again, so real. Konigsberg doesn't get hung up on what the reader might want to happen, or providing that fairytale ending, he just tells it like it actually is, in real life. It's refreshing to read, in a world of you're-perfect-the-world-loves-you-everything-is-swell LGBTQ+ YA novels. I think a healthy dose of "it's not all peaches and froyo" is actually incredibly beneficial given the genre here. Accurate portrayals of what it means to be LGBTQ+ are essential in representation, not just the idealized version we wish it always could be. Konigsberg provides the realism and Openly Straight delivers 100%.

Two Sentence Review: Rafe has had it with being "the gay kid" and never being seen for anything other than his label. In an attempt to outrun said label, Rafe moves across the country to an all boys boarding school and goes back in the closet, enjoying the freedom and friendships that come with being "normal"... until he starts to fall for his openly straight BFF.

10: Girl Mans Up (Gender Nonconforming, Lesbian)

Pen (short for Penelope, but don't call her that) is her own person. Portuguese-Canadian, badass at video games, friends with dudes, into girls, not into being a girl. That said, she's not into being a dude either. But with old world parents breathing down her neck to be a "good girl" and her savior of a big brother temporarily out of the picture, Pen is going to have to figure out how to man up and be true to herself on her own. Girard's debut (and only) novel, Girl Mans Up explores what it's like to be a gender nonconforming teen in a Catholic high school in a smallish Canadian town. For a first book, it's massively well written. Girard takes you, from Pen's singular perspective, through a roller coaster of a semester where a lot of real world s*** goes down. One of the only books on this list that actually tackles what it looks like when parents do not approve of their child's identity, this book was a refreshing breath of realistic air within an otherwise kind of fanciful genre (in my—probably misguided—opinion). That being said, I wasn't a complete and total fan. Now maybe I'm just close-minded, but I found the over-liberal use of gendered insults such as (internet grannies skip ahead) douche and pussy to be understandable given the context of the book, but tiresome nonetheless. Granted, the characters are immature high schoolers who are not particularly creative with their diction, but, like, come on. Every argument any character has includes these words. And I get it, the whole goal of this book is the polarization (and exploration) of two genders, but an unexpected "asshat" every now and then would've gone a long way. I also found it kind of interesting that the general good versus evil theme in this book was girls versus boys, or more accurately, feminine versus masculine. The whole crux of Girl Mans Up is that there is a gender line, and you can either cross it all the way or stay on your side, but anything else is impossible and fluctuating is entirely out of the question. It's certainly a provocative read for anyone who finds themselves invested in the characters and their outcomes. A standalone in gender nonconforming literature, Girl Mans Up is definitely worth your time.

Two Sentence Review: A book based around loyalty and respect, Girard spends all 373 pages helping you question all your previously-held beliefs about gender, identity, and gender identity. Girl Mans Up is what happens when friends become enemies, nobodies become somebodies, and the term "tomboy" is given flesh and blood.

11: The Handsome Girl & Her Beautiful Boy (Transcends All Labels)

Whoever you are, you need to move this book to the top of your required reading list right this very minute. Way way more than just a gender exploration novel, this blows all other LGBTQ+ literature out of the water. This book is a lot... a lot of things. I read this book, cover to cover, in a single 6.5-hour sitting. I picked it up once and put it down once and I already think I need to reread it, and (as of writing this sentence) it's been less than 24-hours since I finished. The only book on this list I utterly could not put down, The Handsome Girl & Her Beautiful Boy is transcendental. It's one of those books where, once you've finished, you realize there was a line you didn't know you crossed until you crossed it (my Wicked fans will understand). You will never be able to go back to who you were before you read this book. And I'll be honest, it's kind of manic. Or maybe that was just me reading this book. The way Gottfred writes from both characters' perspectives and how he is literally both people seamlessly is part of what made this book incredible. Art is what happens when you let your four-year-old cousin eat too much Halloween candy while you're supposed to be babysitting, but then you don't want to go get the parents because the kid is just too adorable and you don't want him (or you) to get in trouble, so you just ride the rollercoaster. Art is all run on sentences and and whacky punctuation and it works. Zee is the complete opposite. Stoic, concise, composed. That Gottfred is able to so flawlessly switch writing styles from one to the next is a testament to his complete understanding of his characters. I'm pretty sure Art and Zee wrote this book; who the heck is B.T. Gottfred!? And I think Gottfred would agree with me here. This should be required reading for all humans, regardless of anything. HGBB explores not only gender, and expression, and identity, and family, but what is love, truly, at its very core, its essence. It's rather profound and enlightened and a complete rollercoaster, as I've mentioned. I was crying by page 59 and laughing just about every fifth page after that and I swear my heart grew three sizes right along with these characters. Art and Zee are the kind of people you will carry with you for a very long time: in your heart and in your mind.

Two Sentence Review: Art is magic, he knows he's magic, and when he meets his soulmate, Zee, all he has to do is convince her she is magic, too. Love, loss, heart break, heart ache, family drama, dating daram, money matters, painful truths, and painful lies: nothing can truly get in the way when it's a matter of soulmates. (Frankly, I'm not quite sure what to say here. All the sentences in the World wouldn't be enough to encapsulate this masterpiece. It is beauty in its purest form.)

12: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (Gay)

Although Albertalli has already shown up on this list with Adam Silvera in their tag team effort on What if it's Us, Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda is actually her first book. It's well written for a first book and for having absolutely nothing in common with her main character, I feel Albertalli really nails the anxiety and emotion that comes with being a gay teen in a Georgia high school (having never been one of those myself, that is). In a roundabout way, Albertalli tackles what it's like to be outed—when someone on the rainbow spectrum isn't allowed to come out on their own terms, but is rather dragged out of the closet by some external circumstances. In Simon's case, a classmate is blackmailing him (and I don't feel like this is a spoiler since the second sentence of the book blatantly states as much). It might not be the most realistic of circumstances (at least I hope not), but the issue of being outed is a serious concern for the community and something allies need to be especially aware of. Coming out is an ongoing, never-ending process and I think Albertalli and Simon kind of hint at this, though it's not stated explicitly. If you've seen the movie (Love, Simon) already there's no need to spend time on the book. That's not to say that the movie was better—it wasn't—but it got enough of the big things right to spare you the time it will take to read the book. Of course, the little, meaningful details that make books and characters so beautiful are left out of the movie entirely, along with some more-than-minor characters, but the gist is got and that's what matters in the end.

Two Sentence Review: Simon and Blue have the kind of friendship where all the deep, dark crevices of their inner psyche are on display, but only for each other. The only catch, Simon and Blue don't actually know who the other is in real life, until Simon gets outed to the whole school by a conniving classmate looking for revenge.

13: Our Own Private Universe (Lesbian/Bi)

Other than contradicting itself every third chapter, Our Own Private Universe is... fine. It's really not worth writing home about. Or writing about in general. It was mediocre at best and downright boring at worst. You can't tell from the cover, but it's supposed to be about a Black preacher's daughter experimenting with her bi-ness on a mission trip to Mexico. Thing is, Talley is white. I find it more than a tad odd she'd write a main character with a life perspective she simply has no way of relating to, especially when race is actually a focal point of the book. This isn't her first book where her main character is Black, though, so maybe she knows something I don't, but the feeling of cultural appropriation still leaves me feeling icky. But that's not the only reason this book leaves me feeling icky. For being fifteen, all Aki, the aforementioned main character, spends her time doing is thinking about sex, having sex, finding places to break into to have sex, or googling how to have sex. For a preacher's daughter on a mission trip to Mexico with her Christian youth group to help build a church for the local congregation, this book is not G-rated. Talley does actually tackle the very important topic of safe sex, specifically for lesbians where it's not as simple as just slapping a condom on, but you can talk about 15-year-olds having safe sex without the majority of every chapter revolving around sex. There's also the added problem that said preacher's daughter and her summer fling end up trespassing, breaking & entering, and stealing just to keep fooling around without people seeing and it was all just a bit too nauseating for me. The first half of this book absolutely drraaaggggsssss on and the second half isn't much better. Because the entire plot is so predictable from the get go there's never really any climax, and sprinkled throughout the discovering your sexuality drama is random family drama, friend drama, etc. and it makes the overarching message completely incoherent. If I'm being perfectly honest, the only reason I finished this book was because of this review. I would not recommend spending any more time on this book then it has taken you to read this review, especially when there are other, much more wholesome, lesbian reads (that don't promote breaking laws in foreign countries) out there.

Two Sentence Review: Aki and her youth group are in Mexico for a six-week mission trip and she decides this summer is the year her life begins. What Aki doesn't realize is that, while her life began fifteen years ago, her life as a bisexual will start the same day her work on the new church does.

14: Sissy (Memoir; Gender Nonconforming/Trans)

The only memoir on this list, Sissy is a powerhouse example of what it means to be different and be totally stoked about it (with a little work and support from friends, family, and glittery Goodwill finds). A popular figure in the media, Tobia has basically always been kicking butt and taking names, it just didn't always look like the Forbes 30 Under 30 or OUT 100. Sissy is a great book, don't get me wrong, and I think it's an ESSENTIAL read for anyone (parent, friend, partner, etc.) who has a gender nonconformer in their lives. That being said, unless your gender identity and expression is the kingpin of who you are and how you get through life, this book will not be the most relatable. It's an important ally read as it delves into all the nooks and crannies of LGBTQ+ discrimination in all its subtleties and overtness and will help all cishet (if you don't know that word, you're probably it, so click that link real quick) readers fully comprehend and understand what it means to be on the rainbow spectrum. Sissy is not going to be one of the books where you personally identify with the main character and see yourself reflected in the pages—not because you're not gender nonconforming, but because Tobia has such an outlandish and unusual life. Tobia's life is the stuff of reality TV, not because it's a particularly realistic life any of us lead, but because it's the kind of real life we all wish we had, to one extent or another. You know how some people are just born to be famous? Well, that's Tobia, and it becomes evident very quickly in the pages of their memoir. A rollercoaster of a read, I was snorting with laughter as many times as I was spitting with indignation. The stuff of legends, Tobia is paving the way for ANYONE who is different. They are, however, a self-professed nerd... and it shows. There are a lot of, in my opinion, extraneous "big words" that could serve to alienate a fair majority of Sissy's readership. Tobia also ridiculously overuses the italics for emphasis writing technique and it effectively undermines their efforts to draw your attention to important things. I actually did the math for a 37-page chapter and Tobia uses, on average, 4 italics for emphasis per page (that's 125 italicized passages in a single chapter!). And no, that's not including inner monologues or titles of written works, where italics are necessitated by conventional writing rules. Even the footnotes had italics for emphasis! So much of the book is italicized, I stopped noticing about halfway through. Not really the point of italics, you know. But don't let those two things discourage you. Sissy is very well-written and the best inner psyche read on this list.

Two Sentence Review: What started as a childhood fascination with their neighbour's Barbies and grandma's clip-on costume jewelry later blossomed into a thrift shopping and gaudy wardrobe obsession for Tobia, a gender nonconforming writer, performer, and producer. Follow along on the wild ride as Tobia takes you through their childhood in Cary, North Carolina, their four years (which were a lot less than four, in person) at Duke, and all the crazy antics in between.

15: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Gay)

Ari is fifteen in 1987 and his father has Vietnam living inside him; Dante is crazy about his mom and dad and knows exactly who he is. Ari is full of anger and sadness and the burdens of others; Dante smiles and laughs as easily as he cries. They have one summer to forge a friendship before Dante's family moves from El Paso to Chicago. That summer is the summer everything starts changing for Ari. Set in an earlier time period than any of the other books on this list, Ari & Dante presents an old-fashioned—but not inaccurate—take on what it means to be a gay Mexican boy in Texas during the Reagan presidency. Sáenz is a well known Mexican-American poet and his well-crafted prose shine through in the way Ari and Dante dialogue with each other and the way in which Ari interacts with the world around him. Perhaps too choppy for some, this book reads more like an epic poem at times, and I think that helps lend a physical sensation to all the mental and emotional turmoil Ari experiences while growing up. Unique to Ari & Dante is the fact that being gay doesn't factor into the story line until the last third of the book, and really isn't explicitly addressed until the last four chapters. I actually think the story is better this way, allowing Ari and Dante to forge a genuine friendship in the beginning that doesn't hinge on gayness. For any POC readers out there, I'd say this book is a must. Ari and Dante spend a lot of time discussing what it means to be Mexican and American and what makes one more or less Mexican-American than another. For any hyphenated-Americans, their conversations, doubts, and confusion will truly resonate. Another thing I absolutely loved about this book: gay wasn't the default, celebrated setting. It was refreshing, encountering genuine opposition and apprehension towards gayness. If I had to use one word to encapsulate this book it would be authentic. Without even realizing it, you just might gain some self-awareness wisdom from Sáenz's characters you didn't know you were missing. I know I did. Even with all the typos (not sure who Sáenz's editor was, but they should be fired) nothing can detract from the allure of Ari and Dante's genuinely wholesome friendship. And yeah, I used genuine a ton, but this book is a genuinely good read.

Two Sentence Review: Another title to add to your required reading list, Ari & Dante is a beautiful exploration of the relationships that make up our whole lives: our parents, our siblings, our friends, and ourselves. Along the way, you'll learn a few secrets of the universe and probably a thing or two about the inner demons you've been ignoring.

16: Social Intercourse (Gay/Bi)

A hilarious romp through the halls of an "asscrack of the bible belt" high school, Social Intercourse is what happens when Andrew Rannells (channeling his inner Hedwig) and Fat Amy (from Pitch Perfect) are best friends and get anal bleaches together. This book is equal parts down to earth average and hilariously outrageous. The characters are so familiar it's hard to remember this is a work of fiction and not written about your high school classmates. Revolving around Beck, an out and proud since he was 12 gay, and Jax, the all-star hometown hero quarterback, Social Intercourse looks like it's going to be one clichéd trope after another, but it isn't! Something I absolutely loved was the addition of the Holy Tabernacle of Hell a.k.a. the bible-thumping Jesus lovers who parade around town with signs reading "fags burn in hell" because right to free speech and all that. This isn't the first book with a religious undertone, but whereas the previous religious books have all been about acceptance and changing minds, this sucker deals with the hate and bigotry often hurreled by the church upon those in the LGBTQ+ community. The tension is very real and familiar for anyone who is acquainted with Christianity. It's massively important to not dismiss this tension or ignore this hate, and the whole idea of not being part of the solution making you part of the problem is actively explored and discussed herein. Social Intercourse is a very fun and quick read, but that's not to say that it doesn't deal with some heavy topics. Interspersed with the likes of divorce, losing one's virginity, physical abuse, and systemic racism & homophobia are the likes of drag queen makeovers, Golden Girls quotes, rainbow thongs & rainbow proms, and a fair dose of GSA meetings, dress shopping sprees, and enviable best friendships. Another one to add to your required reading list, Social Intercourse is just too much fun.

Two Sentence Review: Way more than just your average jock vs GSA president high school rom-com, Jax and Beck are complex and intricate characters with nuances you don't expect. When mutual disaster strikes their families, the two boys will have to team up to make things right, no matter how wrong it feels to work together.

17: Rick (Juvenile Fiction; Asexual)

Finally! A book for middle ages! The first book on this list set in middle school (or sixth grade, depending on where you're from), Rick is about a boy named Steve. HA! Obviously it's about Rick, his best (read only) friend Jeff, and their transition to the big bad world of Jung Middle School—navigating the halls, making it to all the right classes on time, girls, and, for Rick, the Rainbow Spectrum Club (essentially the middle school version of your average Gay Straight Alliance). This is obviously a simple book aimed to reaffirm and not question young children on the path to self-discovery. Published in 2020 and set in present time, modern middle schoolers must be a lot more "woke" than those back in my day because there's no way some of the conversations that go down in RSC would've ever happened with the population of my middle school. Or maybe I just went to middle school with a bunch of neanderthals. Who can say? What I can say is this: the students Rick meets are very accepting, an essential for anyone trying to survive middle school, especially those questioning their sexual orientation. Also (potential spoiler, but soooo important I have to share): RICK IS ASEXUAL! *insert proverbial fist pump here* FINALLY! You have no idea how difficult it has been to try and find books that represent the asexual (or ace) spectrum. They basically don't exist. Ace books are like ace people: sparkly rainbow unicorns in a paddock full of rainbow unicorns—depending on the lighting, you may not even realize there's anything different about them. Which makes them really tricky to find. Sadly, Rick is one of only two ace books on this list. I wish there were more—ace peeps need representation, too—but alas. What is really great and therefore makes this a great ally read is the fact that the students of the Rainbow Spectrum Club go through all the different sexualities and spectrums that make up the LGBTQIAP+ (or QUILTBAG) acronym. There's also a glossary and brief terminology history in the back of the book that is a lot more concise and succinct than a Google search. You may not be the target age, but I recommend any allies out there add this one to your reading lists as well. It's a nice, easy introduction into what acceptance, inclusion, and allyship really (should) look like.

Two Sentence Review: Rick's life is changing rapidly: his sister is heading off to college, he's heading off to middle school, heading to his Grandpa's house on Sundays to keep him company, and trying to decide if his lifelong friend is really the kind of person he wants to spend his time with. Thankfully, there's a whole roomful of kids ready to be his friend, if only he can work up the courage to attend the Rainbow Spectrum Club meetings.

18: That Inevitable Victorian Thing (Intersex/Bi/Lesbian/Pan/Complicated)

I'm not even sure where to start with this one. This kind of book is not my typical read, as it's set in an alternate universe where the British Empire never fell and compatibility is determined based on your genetics. It's really interesting and well thought out, not like a lot of alternate universe books where crazy things happen and there's zero way any of it should logically work. I love how racial diversity is a thing, without actually being a thing, and any Canadian readers (or anyone familiar with Canada) will appreciate the hometown vibes and local humor. Right, now into the meat and potatoes (can I say that about a Canadian book?). Johnston ticks a critical box with this book—that of the 'I' for Intersex—which, FYI, is really hard to find represented in literature. But Victorian Thing does wayyy more than just tick one box. Fun fact, the current (as of March 2021) full acronym for the rainbow community is LGBTQIAP2S+, which is one helluva mouthful if you ask me. That's "short" for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Asexual, Pansexual, Two Spirit, and others (encompassed by the plus sign). Intersex is when one individual is born with both male and female reproductive organs, though their outward biological expression of sex usually developes as only one or the other. While being Intersex is a major plot point in Victorian Thing, it is not THE plot point, and I think that works out as an advantage. Rather, love is THE plot point, at it's gone about in such a way as to never really be a cliché. Now in the heading I list complicated, not because all those sexualities are complicated, but because they are all interwoven in such a complicated way as to not really be separable from each other into their own category. Read and you will understand, I promise. I just wanted to make that clear. Now, back to the mouthful of an acronym I mentioned earlier. Not only does this book deal with the 'I' for Intersex, it also touches tangentially on Trans and Two Spirit identities. Two Spirit is used to represent a third gender found in some Native American cultures, often involving birth-assigned men or womyn taking on the identities and roles of the opposite sex. It's not a main topic—one could even say it is glossed over—but it is included and in such a way as to carry its own merit, which I think is worth noting. Now, for the actual book itself, it's well written, and has interesting mini-climaxes sprinkled throughout so that you almost don't realize when THE climax is in full swing. The main issue is resolved in an odd, but beautifully fitting way at the very end, and while the ending seems a tad rushed (a common thing attributed to several of Johnston's books) I don't think it's necessarily detrimental. I will say that one pretty major character is left out of the entire plot resolution by a well-timed weekend holiday. I will also add that this didn't occur to me until I reflected back upon the book for this review and had a facepalm moment when I didn't catch it sooner. A tad careless, but perhaps Johnston was strapped for space or time. All things weighted equal, I think this book is well worth the read for anyone. Though reader be advised, the beginning does get off to a bit of a slow start involving more than a few corsets and hoop skirts.

Two Sentence Review: Helena, our dashing heroine, is off to high-class Toronto for a debut season full of balls and tea parties, none of which she anticipated. The people she meets there and the choices she makes, not to mention the things she learns about herself in the process, will alter her life in ways even the genetic-matching Computer can't predict.

19: Tash Hearts Tolstoy (Asexual)

Finally, a book tackling asexuality from the high school perspective. It is shockingly difficult to find ace literature out there, but thankfully we have Tash Hearts Tolstoy and Ormsbee does not disappoint. Tash (pronounced like posh, not ash) is an instantly loveable character, as are most of the other characters in this book. Something (perhaps odd) I really appreciated was Ormsbee's lack of character description: aside from a few hair colours, she basically leaves it up to the reader to decide what each character looks like. I think that really lends this story a sense of personalization and depth. Instead of hinging on something physical about any one character (like race or weight or clothing), all the characters are tested based on their literal merit as human beings. Instead of it being about a fat girl, or a Black girl, or a butch girl, it's just about a girl, who could be fat, or Black, or butch, or all of the above, but her characterization (and worth to the storyline) doesn't hinge upon her being any one thing, other than asexual. And the story is half over before the asexual thing even really comes up in any critical way. Sometimes this means the plot can be predictable, other times not at all. Fans of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina will appreciate all the AK easter eggs sprinkled throughout as Tash films a modern retelling of the age old classic for her YouTube channel. But never fear, even if you've never read a single Tolstoy work before, you won't feel left behind or like things are going over your head. The crux of this book hinges on Tash's relationship with her two best friends—brother and sister dynamic duo Paul and Jack—and Tash's relationship to her own asexuality. Ormsbee does a rather brilliant, and covert, job of laying out exactly how asexuality is different from being aromantic or demisexual, and what that means in the context of relationships. Tash approaches her own sexuality the same way many of us probably did/do: by surfing around on forums and Googling the words she doesn't know. Truly my favourite part though is how Ormsbee is able to focus on, without overdoing, all the ways coming out as asexual is so much harder and more confusing and complex than, say, coming out as gay. When someone comes out as gay it's pretty well understood what that means. But when someone comes out as asexual, even within the same term, it is such a personalized experience that asexuality looks different for every single person. And that can be understandably isolating and confusing, both for the person coming out and those they are coming out to. Not to mention the stigma and oft misunderstanding of what asexuality actually is. Ormsbee does a massively impressive job tackling all these issues (and more) in such a smooth and easily digestible way. For this reason alone, I seriously think Tash Hearts Tolstoy is easily the most important ally read on this list. Nowhere else will you, as an ally, get as good a glimpse into the inner workings of a sexuality so unlike your own as you will here.

Two Sentence Review: Natasha "Tash" Zelenka is in a long-term committed relationship with her boyfriend Leo Tolstoy, or at least that's what Tash tells herself when her asexual truth is too much to handle. Within the charming retelling of Anna Karenina via her suddenly popular web series, Tash finds her passion, her people, and her truth—but the strength to live it will only come from within.

20: George (Juvenile Fiction; Trans)

Without giving too much away, this is a touching portrayal of finding support in unlikely places. Gino does a pretty genius thing writing the majority of the book like an internal monologue, where George always uses she/her pronouns when referring to herself, and is free to analyze the world around her through as much glitter as she pleases. A simple yet meaningful read for any elementary schoolers who feel different or like they don't belong. Also an impactful read for parents of young kids who may be questioning and any teachers of kids younger than high school. A large part of this quick read centres around how to have those tricky conversations with your kids/parents, friends, siblings, and teachers, and what to do in the face of rejection or the age old "it's just a phase." Gino really impressed me with his ability to get inside the mind of a fourth grader and tell it as they would truly see it. Fun vocabulary words are sprinkled throughout for any educators looking for a good class reading assignment. The last chapter, though, is where Gino (and George) truly shines. And that's all I'm going to say about that. Definitely a must for the younger trans audience, George is a great primer for wading deeper into the LGBTQ+ experience.

Two Sentence Review: A stand alone prequel to Rick, George is what it looks like to be ahead of your time—especially as a fourth grader in an adult world. Totally convinced she is meant to be a girl, George must find a way to get the adults in her life to see her for who she really is.

21: Picture Us in the Light (Gay)

I discovered this book quite by accident. It never came up on any LGBTQ+ literature searches and hasn't been, to my knowledge, listed on any gay book blogs or bookstagrams. It's a hidden gem that I hope you take the time to read. Less about a same-sex relationship and more about familial ties, Picture Us in the Light will tug at your heartstrings like no other. At once beautiful, poignant, wholesome, and heartbreaking, this read will have you laughing, crying, and squealing with joy. Gilbert does a wonderful job capturing what life is like for high-achieving Asian high schoolers in Cupertino, California. It's also one of those books that has a gay main character, but isn't so much about being gay as being Asian. Seriously, the gay thing doesn't even come up until the book is almost over. But being the son of Asian immigrants, now that's the crux. With all the anti-Asian hate that's been going on in the World, especially since Covid-19 burst onto the scene, and the general cultural and lifestyle divisions present in every society between immigrants and "locals," I find Picture Us to be the most required of reads. You'll learn less about the LGBTQ+ community than you will about the Asian/immigrant community, but what you learn is so, so important. Gilbert also tackles adoption, specifically the industry that revolves around white people purchasing Asian daughters. But before you go getting your knickers in a twist, know that Gilbert broaches these hot and sensitive topics with much care and finesse. There's a lot going on in this book, and being gay, and being Asian, and being the son of immigrants is just part of it. There's also a tragedy that rips friends apart as it forces them together, the pressures of getting into a good college, and the general high school angst. Ideal for Asian and non-Asian readers alike, Picture Us in the Light is essential.

Two Sentence Review: Danny Cheng has carried guilt deep within his heart for his entire life, but very few people know the reasons why. His best friend, Harry Wong, is one of the very few, but when his parents' secrets destroy the life Danny has always known, this friendship—and his dreams for the future—are put to the test.

22: The Falling in Love Montage (Lesbian)

Smyth had me laughing out loud several times in this debut. Centred around Saoirse's summer after high school, this one is a must for all rom-com lovers out there (especially those still in denial). The Falling in Love Montage is exactly what it sounds like: two girls, falling in love just like they do in the movies. Except this montage starts out as a fun summer project to get Saoirse to fall in love with rom-coms (Ruby) and get some snogging action from a girl who actually likes girls (Saoirse). An important thing to know going in, The Montage is set in a small, seaside town in Ireland—that means Irish slang and terminology are everywhere, which, if you're not familiar with the Irish craic, can get confusing and difficult to parse out. If you are familiar with the craic, it'll be a gas. That being said, it's hard to tell if Smyth is actually Irish or not by the way she writes. Many times throughout the whole novel she switches between the UK and American word for something. It's clunky and a beginner's mistake, which I guess Smyth is, but still. Where was her editor? I found it distracting from the overall plot because I kept flipping back and forth between parts to reassure my mind that it was not, in fact, lost. But then I'm what the kids call a "Grammar Nazi" so there's a good chance you won't even notice. While it would be easy to write this one off as the cheesiest rom-com cheese around—it's literally all rom-coms put together—I actually cried more than I cringed and at least as many times as I laughed. Smyth does a good job working real life crap into and around the cupid-farting-rainbows montage dates and Saoirse's sense of self-preservation has been every single last one of us at least once in our sad, miserable lives. While not intended to be a relatable read taken all together, zoom in and I'm sure many readers will personally identify with a lot of the feelings and experiences Saoirse collects over the summer.

Two Sentence Review: Saoirse (pronounced sheer-sha, get it right!) and Ruby have one summer together. One summer to catch up on a lifetime of rom-coms, try all the cheesy dates, avoid the big fight and heartfelt make ups, and not fall in love; what could go wrong?

23: Something like Gravity (Trans/Pan)

Simple, yet wonderful, Something Like Gravity is a compelling read. Set in a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere North Carolina, this one can be slow at times, but only because it reflects the pace of the lives of the characters within. And what well-developed characters they are, too! Chris is brilliantly crafted from the fabric of his past life, and Maia isn't your average country girl either. Separately, they are unique individuals, but together is where they truly shine—and it's this slowly formed relationship that the majority of the book centres around. Smith does a brilliant job writing not just another LGBTQ+ teen rom-com, but distinguishes herself from the rest of this list by tackling the meat and potatoes of an issue. Trigger warning: Smith dives headlong into physical assault stemming from some intense transphobia, and the ramifications thereof. It's necessary, and the catharsis and healing that comes after makes it all the more so. And the ending! It's unlike any of the other books of this caliber on this list. Most certainly unexpected and worth the read to get that real world feel. Allies—especially those with trans friends—this one is a must. As the quintessential "walk a mile in their shoes" read, it's not to be missed.

Two Sentence Review: Chris is looking for a calm summer away from his past; Maia is looking for any way forward after her sister's sudden death. Two kids, one sleepy town, and a summer full of possibilities—if only the line distinguishing real life from summer fun didn't blur so easily.

24: The Liar's Dictionary (Adult; Lesbian)

An absolute romp through Oxford England, The Liar's Dictionary is split between Peter Winceworth's 1899 compiling of Swanby's Encyclopedic Dictionary and Mallory's 21st century editing of said dictionary. An ideal read for any word nerds out there, the number of killer Scrabble words you'll pick up is astounding. Among the ranks of auroflorous and zarf are grawlix and slivkovnian, and it's part of the game to determine which of these wards are real and which are fake, or mountweazels—as we are quickly introduced to. But what is this book doing on an LGBTQ+ reading list? Mallory is a lesbian and that's really all there is to it. Her being a lesbian is so vastly overlooked that it almost doesn't feature, except that she wrestles with herself (and her girlfriend/flatmate, Pip) over whether or not to come out at work, an honest conundrum that anyone on the rainbow spectrum has, or might, face. And that's about the extent of the rainbow and glitter. It was a rather refreshing read to have an LGBTQ+ character or two who were just going about their lives. To have the LGBTQ-ness of a person not be a noteworthy factor is perhaps the ultimate pinnacle of accepting society and I think Williams does a masterful job including (but just barely) this detail in the most minimal of senses. Her skill and the ease with which she switches between the two time periods and competing storylines is also brilliantly executed and makes for two good reads, simultaneously. I found myself rooting for the historic and present characters in equal measure and the extent of Williams' research is exhaustive. A thoroughly enjoyable read, you might want a dictionary on hand for this one, but it's certainly not a requirement.

Two Sentence Review: Mallory is content with her job answering the phone, taking her lunch in the office supply closet, and killing time by reading the dictionary, until her boss notifies her that there are fake words in the dictionary they're digitizing and tasks her with finding and removing each and every one. Suddenly her boring, but predictable, job becomes anything but, and a new story beings to reveal itself—one that no one, not even Mallory, could have anticipated.

Bonus #1: The Bridge (Gay)

For this one, I need to start with a trigger warning: this book is all about suicide, attempted suicide, depressed & suicidal thoughts, and cyber bullying. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, it really is a good read. The Bridge has way less to do with LGBTQ+ culture (there are only two characters on the rainbow spectrum, and then mostly only perfunctorily so) and way more to do with teenage depression. Remember I said Konigsberg was going to make the list again, well he's back, and this may be his most powerful book yet. Really, the only reason this book even makes the list is because one of the main characters is gay, but it's only mentioned twice and glossed right over both times. However, LGBTQ+ youth are four times more likely to attempt suicide than non-LGBTQ+ youth, and that alone is worth noting. Also worth noting is that Konigsberg attempted suicide when he was twenty-seven... and it shows (but in a good way). The Bridge is the most real book on this list. If you've ever struggled with depression, you will recognize yourself and your struggle within these pages. Set in New York City, the George Washington Bridge is the third most prolific character, and I'll just leave you to guess why. Tillie is a Korean adoptee bullied for her weight, her heartfelt monologues, and unloved by her adopted father. Aaron is a lonely only child, liked by everyone, close to no one, and utterly loved by his single father. Told in four parts, The Bridge explores the four scenarios that could play out when Tillie and Aaron meet on the south side of the GWB on April 17th: either Aaron jumps and Tillie doesn't; Tillie jumps and Aaron doesn't; they both jump; or neither of them jump.

Two Sentence Review: Unlike the oft romanticized version of suicide present in the likes of 13 Reasons Why, The Bridge comes at suicide head-on and makes no bones about the fact that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and the alternative—to live—is really, freaking worth it. For anyone who has ever wondered if maybe, just maybe, their loved ones might be better off without them as a burden, Konigsberg and The Bridge are here to definitively answer that musing for you—and the answer is NO.

Bonus #2: The Song of Achilles (Adult; Gay)

Miller's debut novel of a decade in the making is a smash hit. It's absolutely stunning and no amount of adjectives will quite do it justice. Not precisely billed as an LGBTQ+ novel, I'm including The Song of Achilles in this list because, despite being written be a straight wommon, it is the most beautifully and tastefully-rendered gay relationship I have ever encountered in a book. It is equal parts tender and touching, scorching and turbulent, with a proper amount of intrigue and sacrifice thrown in. It's also loosely based off the not-as-ancient-as-you-might-think Greek tale of Achilles (you know, the invincible guy with the faulty heel? That Achilles, though the heel thing may be total bunk.) and his instrumental part in the siege of Troy (as in the Trojan Horse, Odysseus' brainchild). But it's so much more than a recounting of an age old story. Told from the perspective of Achilles' nearly lifelong "companion" Patroclus, The Song of Achilles is a love story for the ages and all sexualities. In ancient Greece, it was quite acceptable for a lord to have sexual relations with his slave boys, as long as his wife was still bearing sons, but to have a male lover and no other... now that just wouldn't do. But even when the whole world and all the gods of Olympus were against them, the love of Patroclus and Achilles shone through as bright as ever. Masterfully written and conceptually accurate (Miller is a professor of Latin and Greek), if you're not weeping by the end you might want to go see a doctor. To this day, the hardest I have ever cried over any written work, ever. The Song of Achilles is a masterpiece, one you don't want to miss. If you read only one book from this entire list, I highly encourage you to make it this one. You won't be sorry.

Two Sentence Review: Wow wow WOW! OMG go read... right now! (But for real, words just simply aren't enough to encapsulate this tour de force. You just have to read it for yourself to truly understand.)

All proceeds generated on this article via the tip feature will be donated to The Trevor Project and The Trevor Project's international efforts. Founded in 1998, The Trevor Project is the national crisis intervention and suicide prevention lifeline for LGBTQ+ youth in America. For those seeking assistance outside of the US, international resources can be found here. And for all you allies looking to be better allies, Schuyler Bailar provides heaps of resources on his website. Thank you for your support and remember, LOVE IS LOVE, always!