* Originally published in Booklist Online
Through clever phrases and eye-catching illustrations, Webb’s debut picture book lays out a series of definitions that will be educational for kids, as well as some adults. Featuring definitions of words like ally, intersex, lesbian, trans, and so much more, Webb’s book creates a space for kids to voice their questions about the LGBTQ+ community and the many labels that lie within it, in a way that promotes curiosity. Webb’s warmly colored illustrations, featuring four kids (two light skinned and two darker skinned) playing and goofing around, nicely underscores the idea that learning about sexuality and gender identity is as innocent as any other subject. The language is pitched to a young enough audience that some nuance around a lot of these terms can be lost, but for many kids, this will encourage important conversations about identity and sexuality, as well as offer those who might be questioning their own identities the space to see themselves. Young kids are likely to come away from this book with a new perspective, if not a new favorite word!
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* Originally published in Booklist Online
This YA anthology is filled to the brim with romantic, transcendent short fiction about teens in interracial relationships. The dynamic collection features a wide scope of writing styles and diverse narratives, such as a historical romance about a couple torn apart by British colonialism as they find themselves on opposite sides of Britain’s growing rule over India (“The Agony of a Heart’s Wish,” by Samira Ahmed); a Black superhero forced to save her girlfriend’s conservative father after he makes it clear he doesn’t support the #BlackLivesMatter movement and the community that she fights to protect (“Your Life Matters,” by L. L. McKinney); and a gender-bent Persephone retelling in which a teen girl must leave her comfortable life behind in favor of becoming the bride of Hades (“Death and the Maiden,” by Tara Sim). Not only are the characters diverse, but the narratives they inhabit are, too, as the collection celebrates stories that fall within the sf and fantasy world as well as the contemporary fiction genre. These writers bring their rich talents to this book as they make it clear just how beautiful love is, regardless and because of race. By curating a collection filled with authentic characters of color and diverse story lines, Mandanna encourages writers and readers alike to take chances and truly color outside the lines in YA. * Originally published in Booklist
Small town Indiana girl Emma Nolan only wants one thing: to go to prom with her sweetheart. But her conservative town is determined to stop her, since the date she’s planning to bring to prom is a girl. And not just any girl, but Alyssa Greene, the president of the student council and daughter of the super mom/PTA president who wants nothing more than to see her daughter end up with a stereotypical jock. Tension builds when Emma takes a stand against the homophobia in her community and proclaims her right to take her date to prom, no matter her gender. In this novel adaptation from the original Broadway musical, Mitchell transforms Emma and Alyssa’s story from the stage to the page eloquently. Through the girls’ alternating first-person narratives, Mitchell provides differing perspectives on the coming-out experience as she conveys how Emma, a lesbian, faces homophobia from her peers as the direct result of religion, and how Alyssa, who’s also a lesbian, combats questions pertaining to the validity of her sexuality. A delightful read. * Originally published in Booklist Online
Trinidadian native Audre uses the labels placed upon her as a shield, fearing those around her will discover the real reason her mother sent her to live with her distant father in Minneapolis: she was caught wrapped in the arms of another girl. Struggling with her own questions surrounding her sexuality and depleting health, Mabel holds no faith that she’s going to have anything in common with Audre, the daughter of a family friend who’s just arrived from Trinidad and has a bit of a church-girl reputation. But they find themselves drawn to each other in inexorable ways. Told through unflinching prose and poetry laced with astrological themes, Petrus’ work breaks the mold of traditional writing and uses unconventional dialogue and voice to bring life to the story of two authentic, unapologetic Black girls as they face the hardest truths head on and discover everlasting love that reaches even the most distant corners of the cosmos. Through the intersplicing of poetry, Petrus provides compelling depth to both Audre and Mabel while conveying the powerful message that those we love on earth remain with us through a connection that can only be described as celestial. Striking an agile balance between humor and heartbreak, Petrus delivers an immersive queer romance set in in a world much like our own but touched with the slightest tint of magic realism. * Originally published in Coffin Bell
Reclaim is an anthology of poetry that aims to “address the need for reclamation of women’s autonomy over their bodies, as a response to their endured oppression as members of a society tainted with capitalist-patriarchal standards.” This anthology includes so many talented women in the poetry community and the content covers so many different experiences. Each individual poem comes together beautifully to create an anthology that feels so authentically intersectional. It’s one thing to identify as an intersectional feminist and it’s another thing to actually put action into the identity and create a space where we can have open conversations about how the systems in power negatively affect women. This is what Elizabeth has done when she curated this anthology that is so open and honest about womanhood. Each poem is a knock out, but for the purpose of this review I’m going to share some of my favorites and what they meant to me. The first poem in the collection, “Decolonising the Body” by Umang Kalra, sets the precedent for the anthology. This poem to me puts into words the violence of colonization both in large and smaller forms. In her lines- “they sunk their knives into our beings asking why we wouldn’t grow forests on our tongues, they want to pluck from the folds of our skin the fruit that only grows in these parts of us” she gives such a profound image of colonizers literally plucking what grows naturally on the marginalized body, or in other words what comes natural to their culture. It’s difficult to put into words the anger that stems from marginalized cultures being stolen from and poorly reproduced by the “majority,” but Umang does this so eloquently. Moving on to the second poem featured, “Training Bras” by Wanda Deglane sends me back to my middle school days as she paints the scene of how young girl’s bodies are put on display as they grow. Her lines- “there are girls among us whose bodies are already rose gardens – bras already filled by fifth grade and curves flowing in and out like drunken roads. we watch them with jealousy and pity interweaving in our chests-” are particularly memorable to me. I think back to my eighth-grade year and the constant torment that puberty was putting us all through. There was a particular girl who roamed the halls with confidence that I now know must have been built through the trauma of having such a developed body at a young age. The kids in my grade all gossiped openly about her and speculated about what she must be getting up to with the boys, all because of her breast size. We were only thirteen. Wanda brings these emotions back to me as I remember how I felt looking at her as she walked the halls with her head held high- jealous that all eyes were on her, but also sad that she would never be able to escape the body that caused so many snickers and whistles. Not only do the words hit hard in this anthology, but there is a visual aspect to three of the poems in particular that left an impact on me. The first being “Fat Girls On Trains” by Djamilla Mercurio. In her poem, Djamilla gives me, a skinny woman, a glimpse as to what it feels like to be stigmatized because of her weight through the visual aspect of her poem. She writes about feeling like she’s taking up too much space and as the poem closes, she gradually spaces out the words as if to physically take up the space that others have made her feel like her body is doing too much of. This aspect fits so perfectly with the theme of the poem and is a perfect example of how spacing can be used to convey an emotion to the reader. “In the Flicker: A Fable” by Alison Rumfitt is the second poem that impressed me through the pacing style, and my personal favorite poem in the entire anthology. Alison’s piece reads like a story in verse and tells such a captivating tale of a trans woman in a world that feels somehow worldly and fantastical at the same time. I literally couldn’t look away from the page, afraid I would miss an important part of the story. The unique story-telling method allowed me just a glimpse into the fear that trans women face every day- “MEN: What a beautiful night SHE scrambles up. The people in the kebab shop look at her limping with a half hearted curiosity, if you’re out this late, then you’re ready to die , really, the MEN move behind her, the streetlamp is up ahead-- SHE: Moths! Please help me! Please! But they do not answer.” As a cis woman, this poem is like seeing the fear of being murdered or mistreated because of transphobia/transmisogyny through a squint. The image is blurry since I can never truly know this feeling, but Alison’s narrative chills me to the bone as the poem allows me to catch a peek into the horror of the line: “if you’re out this late, then you’re ready/to die.” The third poem that impressed me with its pacing style was “For Reyna Marroquín” by Eloise Birtwhistle. This poem tells a story in three simple parts, each section following a year. In the simplicity of its layout, I learn of the story of Reyna from her journey to America to her body being discovered years after her murder. Its simplicity devastates me- as the short poem separates Reyna’s life, and death, into the three parts that we would most likely read in a newspaper about her murder. But by using the separation of each section through dates, Eloise allows for the reader to fill in the blanks on the heartbreaking story of a Salvadorian woman who left the comfort of her home and family for presumably a better future through economic means. But when she arrived in a land that was marketed as a way to kickstart her future, she was met by the indifference of a country that never thought to look for a Salvadorian woman who went missing. The simple poem pays tribute to a story that represents how women of color can be so easily discarded and forgotten, especially when they have been labeled as immigrants. The poem leaves off in 1999, when Reyna’s body was found. But what’s changed? I want to give an honorable shout out to Marisa Crane’s “We Get to Talking About Dating Apps & I Remember How.” She writes in depth about experiences that are so common for lesbians as they navigate womanhood. As a lesbian, I often notice that our experiences are most often not mentioned in anthologies that focus on women’s oppression- an implication that we are not fully woman at all. Marisa’s unyielding recollection on her experience as a gay woman was one I was so grateful to read. Plus, her lines- “The only difference between the men & our flag is the expectation of kneeling before one & not the other.” put a smirk on my face. The last poem I want to talk a bit about is “Untitled” by Jean-Marie Bub. This poem is a statement as to what so many of those whose reproductive rights are being stripped away in the United States right now are feeling. Jean-Marie writes, “she who harbors humanity/ should control her own fate.” Such a simple statement, but the point of the poem strikes deep- those who wield the power to reproduce should always be in charge of the choice to use that power or not. Period. This poem feels like a call-out to anyone who can’t wrap their head around why anyone would choose to have an abortion. In her poem, Jean-Marie basically says that if you can’t understand the why- then mind your own business. I love this sentiment. Like I said in the beginning of this review, every single poem in this collection is so refreshingly honest and deserves all the praise. Overall, this anthology is a must read- hearing women’s experiences through their own words is so important to every one of us, especially in our current sociopolitical climate. Well done. * Originally published by inQluded
Hey! Could you tell us a little bit about your background? I grew up in a smaller-ish, conservative town in Florida. When I first started the blog, I had just moved back to my hometown temporarily and there isn’t an active lgbt+ or literary community there. I was feeling pretty lonely since I didn’t have anyone to talk about gay books with. I live in New York City now, so luckily that’s not a problem for me anymore. Right after high school I went to the University of South Florida where I had a few brilliant professors who introduced me to marginalized writers whose work hasn’t been uplifted throughout history. As for work, I’ve always bounced around doing internships in publishing while taking on various odd jobs on the side and working as Senior Editor for Coffin Bell Journal. My main goal career-wise is to get to a place where I can uplift diverse literature by marginalized writers on a larger platform. When did you start TianaReadslgbt? How has the response to it been so far? What are your goals for Tiana Reads? I just started TianaReadslgbt last January. It’s a mainly Instagram based blog and I’m still learning about the book blogging community that’s already thriving on Instagram. When I first started, my only goal was to be able to gush about all the lgbt+ books I was reading, I didn’t anticipate anyone would really interact with me honestly, but the response has been super positive so far! I’ve met a great deal of people from all over the world who have also fallen in love with lgbt+ books and it’s made me so happy. Going forward, I really want to be able to uplift all types of lgbt+ reads, not only bestselling novels, but also indie books, short-stories, and literary journals/zines/magazines that focus on the lgbt+ community. What draws you to a book? What do you look for? What keeps you hooked? I’m biased, so I’m drawn to any form of literature that is slightly gay and it’s a bonus if it’s written by a person of color. I mostly look for books by authors who are in the community, as an authentic perspective is a must for me as a reader. What keeps me hooked is the strong characterization of the narrator/protagonist and surrounding characters. A book can truly have no central action, but if the narrator has a strong voice, I’m happy. When I read a book, and review them, I try to always think Did this book achieve what the writer set out to achieve? I don’t like when people review books based on if they like them or not. That’s beside the point for me. A book will always keep my attention if I see that it’s staying on the path that the writer paved out for it. What book do you want to read but still haven’t found yet? I want to see more books and stories for children in the lgbt+ community! The first book I ever read with a gay protagonist was when I was in middle school, and although I didn’t know that I was gay yet, the thirteen-year-old character’s struggle with his sexuality really stuck with me, even though at the time I didn’t know why. As a big reader, I like to think my slow-realization of my identity would be less painful if I had more books in elementary school about the experience I was having. Ultimately, I want to read more books about the innocence and sweetness of discovering your sexuality/gender identity at a young age. What drew you to publishing? Once when I was in high school I got in trouble for reading during gym class. After a rather embarrassing lecture about how students are by no means allowed to read during time they are supposed to be doing sports, I went home and googled “jobs for people who like to read.” I’ve known I wanted to work in editorial ever since. How do you feel reading and your own identity are woven together? Sometimes I like to fantasize that my life is a novel, I’m the protagonist, and each time a large part of my life comes to a close I imagine it’s a chapter ending. It’s silly, but it often comforts me to think that better things are coming for me when life gets hard. That being said, I don’t know who I would be without books- I’ve been a reader since I learned how to read and when I look back on my past I often categorize my ages by the books I liked reading at the time. At my core- I’m a reader. When was the first time you saw yourself in a book? On one stormy Floridian weekday, my kindergarten class was forced to have our daily recess inside instead of on our playground. While the other kids were playing with the toys and crayons, I hovered over the small, classroom-sized library of first-reader books. My eyes locked on Nikki Grimes’ Wild, Wild Hair. If you haven’t seen it, I’ll describe it for you: It has a soft pink background, a color that automatically catches the eye. There is a woman with dark brown skin, sitting on a wooden chair and smiling patiently as she leans over and combs her little girl’s long, wild afro. The little girl clutches her hair in dismay, a frown on her face and a look of frustration and pain in her eyes as she looks back at her mother in a look that says: Why are you doing this to me? As a little Black girl myself, I regularly struggled with the knowledge that after my daily shower, my mother would bring out her dreaded pick and roughly comb out the knots in my afro. She’s like me, I thought as my hand shot out for the book. I think back to that moment often- a time in which I knew nothing about diversity in children’s publishing or any of the controversies among the book world. It was just a pure moment in which a little Black girl saw an experience that she herself had had so many times. As an adult, I would love to be able to make sure books like this are always in classrooms, so all marginalized children can have that same experience. And often! What is your hope for the future of publishing? How do you think we can get there? I’m a big believer in the decolonization of literature. Meaning, we can’t just seek out to publish diverse work, but we have to create an atmosphere where marginalized writers don’t have to feel like they need to edit their work in such a way that caters to a white/straight/cis audience. At this point in my life, I’m really beginning in my career in publishing and I have to be honest and say that as someone who is mainly on the outside looking in- I don’t know how we’re going to get there yet! But I have big plans for my career and when I find out, I’ll let you know. Anything else you’d like to add? I’m always prowling on Instagram @tianareadslgbt and on Twitter @Tiana_Coven! If anyone has any recommendations for lgbt+ books/short-stories/writers/small presses I should check out, please reach out to me! And Coffin Bell is always looking for dark literature from writers of diverse backgrounds! Tiana’s Top LGBT+ Reads by LGBT+ Writers of Color Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro Young Adult Trigger warning-police brutality “Stop killing us.” This book is an amazing YA about systemic racism that runs rampant within police departments in the United States. Mark Oshiro, a Queer Latinx writer, tells the enthralling story of Moss, a Black/Latinx gay teen, who along with his diverse friend group, must find a way to protest the police brutality that’s infected their school. Moss’ only forms of escape are his badass mother who’s fought the same fight countless times and the super cute guy he met on the train. This is an outstanding book for young adults who are passionate about systemic racism and are looking for an exceptional amount of representation in a young adult novel. Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan Young Adult Trigger warning- sexual assault “I’ve learned how to live with nightmares. I could cope with one more.” Books for young adult readers that deal with sexual assault in a sensitive, but realistic manner are greatly needed, and this book does it so well! In a fantasy world inspired by Malaysian culture, Natasha Ngan, a queer Asian woman herself, writes about Lei, a girl who is abducted by the king’s court and forced to serve as his concubine. As Lei faces the greatest nightmare of her life, she finds herself falling for one of the other seven girls chosen to be one of the king’s “paper girls.” This fantasy hits every mark from plot pacing to characterization and will definitely warm your heart in some scenes, while keeping you on edge in others. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz Young Adult “Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing.” Aristotle “Ari” Mendoza is struggling with being a fifteen-year-old Mexican-American boy in El Paso as the 1980s come to a close when he crosses paths with the boy who would soon become his best friend and inevitably change his life. This book is amazing for teens of color who find themselves questioning their sexual identity. This book was such a comfort to me when I was seventeen and struggling with my own identity. I found myself relating to the protagonist, Ari, in his anger, his confusion, his quiet nature, and so much more. Sáenz has written that through writing this book he could finally accept himself as a gay man, which is why it is so beautiful that so many teens have undergone the same experience of self-acceptance through reading this novel. History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera Young Adult “I love you, but I can’t stay longer.” Just when life can’t seem to get worse for Griffin following a life-altering heartbreak, his best friend, turned boyfriend, turned ex-boyfriend, dies in a tragic accident which leaves him spiraling and turning to the only person who knew his ex as well as he did: his ex’s new boyfriend. Griffin’s character is relatable and incredibly realistic. Silvera holds nothing back by showing the good, the bad, and the ugly in Griffin as he copes with his loss. He also serves as great representation for a gay character who struggles with OCD and other mental health issues. This is my favorite book by Silvera so far and such a balm to the heart for anyone dealing with trauma from heartbreak or loss of a loved one. Another Country by James Baldwin Adult Trigger warning- sexual assault/racism/homophobia “’We’re all bastards. That’s why we need our friends.’” This was the first book I ever read by James Baldwin and it changed the way I will look at literature forever. Told by various characters of different races, sexualities, and economic backgrounds who are living in America during the late 1950s, this novel gives modern day readers an inside look on the social history of racism, homophobia, and misogyny during this time period. For me, this book acts as my sole argument as to how literature is a true art, though it’s not for the faint of heart. Baldwin never held anything back when it came to writing about the social issues of America and this novel is the absolute proof of that. Cynthia So Short-Story Writer “Boys could be so tiresome.” Cynthia So is a queer Chinese YA+SFF writer from Hong Kong, living in London whose short stories I was lucky enough to come across in the past year. The first work I read of hers was featured in Arsenika, a short story about a girl who imagines that a moth that flies into her bedroom must be her recently deceased mother and takes the opportunity to come out to her. One of her latest short stories, “The Phoenix’s Fault”, was featured as one of the new voice picks for the anthology Proud compiled by Juno Dawson. She is such a promising new voice and I recommend everyone keep a look out for her work. You can find her at socynthia.wordpress.com. Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado Adult “I have no way of answering my voices. I have no way of telling them that I can hear.” This short story collection is filled with dark narratives that go from spine-chilling realities to full on science fiction. Each story focuses on a unique woman in an equally unique circumstance. These stories are fit best for an adult audience as they focus on complex life experiences and emotions. This collection is one of the most intriguing ones I have come across and I would recommend it to readers who have a deep love for dark science fiction. Here Comes the Sun by Nicole Dennis-Benn Adult Trigger warning-sexual assault/fetishization of Jamaican women/homophobia) “The black seeps into her, masking any sentiments, mangling any desire to forgive, hardening the weak pulp of a muscle beating inside her chest.” Focusing on three women and their shared, yet diverse, experiences living as native Jamaicans in a country that has been greatly infected by tourism and the fetishization that comes along with it. The novel is mainly focused on the protagonist, Margot, as she grinds to produce the money needed for her sister’s, Thandi’s, private school tuition any way she can. Thandi regularly gets her own chapters where the narrative is told from her perspective as a teenage Jamaican girl dealing with trauma from sexual violence. Because of the dual narratives, this book is appealing for teens and adults alike. Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender Middle Grade Trigger warning- homophobia “It’s like a dream, almost, to be seen by someone who has never looked at you before.” This middle grade was so deep and powerful. The protagonist, Caroline, a twelve-year-old Water Island native, deals with a mother who suddenly disappears, a father who doesn’t seem to understand her, bullies at school, and a new girl who sets her heart a flutter each time she locks eyes with her. Oh- and a spirit who has haunted her since she almost drowned. This book impressed me with its intelligent writing style and the strong characterization of Caroline. This is such a beautiful middle grade for any young girl who’s realizing she likes other girls and I wish so fiercely that I could have picked up a book like this when I was in elementary school. |
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