September 1st, 2010
Cris Beam, March 2011. Beam wrote the excellent Transparent: Love, Family, and Living the T with Transgender Teenagers, a nonfiction look at MTF kids in LA. I couldn’t put that one down, so was delighted to hear about Beam’s foray into YA fiction.
It didn’t disappoint. I Am J is narrated by (obviously) J, once Jenifer, a seventeen-year-old FTM kid living in Manhattan and going through all the normal teen stuff - a crush on his best friend, parents who just don’t understand, bullies - but with an extra knife in his heart: he has a vagina. He’s not sure how to tell his parents, and he can’t tell Melissa (the aforementioned best friend) either, mostly because she’s mad at him for kissing her when she was asleep. He knows that was wrong, but he just wanted to kiss a girl.
J has been ditching school quite a lot, partly because of the bullies and constant shouts of “dyke” (if they only knew!), but mostly because he wants time to be who he is. Some of this is spent searching the web for information on how to get testosterone shots; some is spent at Village coffee shops, where the cute girls just think he’s a cute boy. Then his parents find out about the school-skipping, and the family decides J should move in with Melissa for a little while. This is when J starts going to therapy (required to get the testosterone) and starts taking classes at a school for gay and trans kids, and learns new words like “intersex” and “cisgendered.” The book gets a little clichéd from here, as J learns to Be Himself by hanging out with arty wild kids, and his Redeeming Hobby (photography) saves the day in the end. Still, the book is realistic (mostly), and handles the big life changes without the melodrama of a Julie Ann Peters. It’s also hard to put down, making the reader really care about J and what will happen to him next. Highly recommended for public libraries and many school media centers.
Posted in 2011, Cris Beam, black, drag, gay male, gay-bashing, high school, latina/o, lesbian, problem novel, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, secondary queer character, trans | No Comments »
August 15th, 2010

Luis Alberto Urrea, May 2009. This delightful novel about a road trip that’s alternately painful, amazing, and eye-opening veers close to magical realism but never quite crosses that line. The small Mexican town of Tres Camarones has lost most of its men to America’s promise of seasonal employment, so there’s no one around to protect the village from drug hustlers and others with malicious intent. Three of its teenage girls, accompanied by local gay bartender Tacho, go on a mission across the American border to try to bring back some likely guys. Peripheral missions include looking for Nayeli’s deadbeat dad, trying to find a friend in San Diego, and rescuing Tacho from jail when he’s locked up at the border crossing. Along the way, they pick up some interesting characters and, of course, do the whole coming-of-age thing.
Urrea’s ear for dialogue and attention to the details of color and flavor lift this novel up from an otherwise-certain fate of being just another border-crossing story or just another bildungsroman. Note “Sure enough, the she-crab had a thick girdle of eggs plastered to her shell. Tacho would be delighted. Crab roe made a paste that moved him to orgasmic delight when he smeared it on a tortilla and soaked it in lemon juice and green salsa,” or “[The wall] was covered in bright paint — an American flag, coffins full of skeletons, words, poems, a white dove. They stared at it, reading the graffiti. ‘Someone doesn’t like George Bush,’ Tacho noted.” There’s just enough Spanish sprinkled through the book to give it a foreign flavor, yet the cultural references are to Eminem, Boy Scouts, and the Grinch. Urrea has succeeded in painting a picture of a beautiful and ugly, wild and grounded, local and foreign Tijuana and San Diego. Highly recommended.
Posted in 2009, Luis Alberto Urrea, gay male, gay-bashing, latina/o, queer adult, realistic | No Comments »
June 23rd, 2010
Reviewed by guest blogger Jill Maddox
Steve Berman, 2007. I don’t normally read horror stories, but after meeting Steve Berman at Dragon Con in 2009, I decided to give this book a try. I have always been sensitive to anything remotely paranormal or creepy. I had a hard time sleeping several nights. I pushed through the insomnia and terror and fell in love with the book and the ending. The truth that rings through out the book will soothe the souls of the readers., young and old alike.
After suffering a personal crisis, I opened the book and read it again, cover to cover in one day. The second time around I found the book to really be a romance wrapped in black eyeliner and dusty second hand clothing, sprinkled with gay romance and lonely ghosts.
A must read for anyone looking for something more substantial in the young adult literature market.
Reviewed by guest blogger Jill Maddox
Posted in 2007, Steve Berman, gay male, guest blogger, high school, romance | No Comments »
June 13th, 2010
Charlie David, 2009. This first novel feels autobiographical, and while I can understand the urge to fictionalize one’s life and jazz it up somewhat, I think that urge should be resisted. Boy Midflight illustrates why: most people’s lives simply aren’t that interesting. The novel follows 19-year-old Ashley, a gay model (the author’s an actor), through a few months of clubbing and trying to get laid. At the end he falls in love. Boring, and the writing doesn’t help; Mr. David should stick to acting. Still, this book’s salacious cover and low page count might put it in the hands of reluctant gay readers. The cover is probably too much for most school libraries, but some publics with very high demand for gay fiction might want to pick this up.
Posted in 2009, Charlie David, bisexual, canadian, gay male, latina/o, queer protagonist, romance, secondary queer character | No Comments »
June 12th, 2010
Reviewed by guest blogger Annie Gage
Louis Flint Ceci, 2009. An intriguing prologue hints at the secrets that are to be revealed in Comfort Me: A heterosexual couple argues in a car stopped on train tracks in tiny Croy, Oklahoma. The girl, Susan, escapes before a train collides it, but the boy, Andy, makes no effort to save himself and dies in what the town assumes was an accident. The town’s judgment when Susan turns out to be pregnant with Andy’s child prompts her to leave town, determined that she and her child will not return.
Fifteen years later, that child, Mally (short for Malachi) returns to Croy to care for his ailing grandfather. Initially taunted by other boys, Mally eventually makes friends with Randy, whose best friend Red resents their friendship, and Joanie, whose family has its own secrets. It is implied that Andy was gay, that Mally is gay, and that football-playing Red is gay.
Ostensibly a story about the comfort and courage that can be found in good friends, Comfort Me is an excellent example of why an intricate plot is not enough to make a good book. I believe the point of view of this book would be called Omniscient, Shifting. While Mally is clearly the central character, the narrator knows how all the characters feel and what they think, and speaks from the perspective of a number of them. This results in a lot of that fiction no-no, telling and not showing. Comfort Me is full of telling. As a result, the characters are flat and it is hard to care about them.
This book has a lot of valuable points to make about the damage that can be wrought by secrets, closets, homophobia and small-mindedness. It tells something beyond a coming out story. However, with its focus on plot and lack of attention to voice, setting, or rich sensory detail, it comes across as a promising early draft rather than a well-polished novel. I’m sorry Mr. Ceci couldn’t have revised his book a few more times and made the rest of it as rich as his plot.
Reviewed by guest blogger Annie Gage
Posted in 2009, Louis Flint Ceci, gay male, guest blogger, problem novel, queer adult, queer parent, queer protagonist, realistic | No Comments »
June 6th, 2010
Dale Peck, 2009. Sprout Bradford is a gay teenager with green hair, an alcoholic dad, and a trailer for a home, all smack in the middle of Kansas. He’s fairly well accepted at school, maybe because he owns all his oddities rather than trying to hide any of them. Or maybe it’s because he really is pretty normal next to Ruthie, his best friend, whose scrawniness, wedge-cut hair, and eighties obsession are just a few of her defining quirks.
For the first half of the novel, Sprout and Ruthie are inseparable, except on Saturdays when Sprout goes to visit his (also alcoholic) teacher, who’s prepping him for a statewide essay contest. This involves a lot of practice writing, excerpts from which provide much of the info about both Ruthie’s and Sprout’s backgrounds. But by the second half, Ruthie has been summarily replaced by Ty. Ty is a legitimately weird new kid with family problems of his own, and soon he and Sprout are, if not boyfriends, at least sharing secrets and hooking up regularly.
And then there’s Ian Abernathy. That’s the name of the now-stock character in any gay teen novel: the outwardly-homophobic-but-secretly-gay jock. He taunts Sprout early on with the usual slurs, but ends up making out with him, literally in a closet, repeatedly throughout their shared adolescence. Only Ty puts an end to this - well, and Ruthie, who ends up with Ian.
The main characters of Sprout are complex and appealing (except for Ian), and the supporting cast has depth. The plot is coming-of-age, but who doesn’t like a good bildungsroman? Highly recommended.
Published simultaneously in ALA’s GLBT Round Table Newsletter.
Posted in 2009, Dale Peck, gay male, gay-bashing, high school, problem novel, queer protagonist, realistic | No Comments »
June 2nd, 2010

Reviewed by guest blogger Kaye Moore
Alex Sanchez, 2007.
Paul is in denial about two major areas of his life: one, that in spite of being named Paul, he is a Spanish-speaking Latino named Pablo, and two, that he is very gay. Paul’s long-term girlfriend Angie is his best friend, and while he loves her very much, he doesn’t feel any attraction for her physically. He just hopes and prays by the time they marry, he will feel something else. He pins their lack of making out on sexual piety, and everyone in his small-town religious circle accepts that too, until openly-gay and Christian newcomer Manuel joins their group. Manuel’s gaydar is in high alert; he knows that Paul is gay, and also forces Paul to recognize his Mexican heritage by outing him as “Pablo” at their first meeting.
Slowly, Angie begins to recognize the nature of the antagonistic relationship between Paul and Manuel, and tries to get Paul to share with her. This is unsuccessful, and we have to wait an incredibly long 90% of the book before Paul ever tells anyone that he is gay, although his covert relationship with Manuel starts about 2/3 of the way through. Paul finally starts living honestly after Manuel is beaten badly by homophobic rednecks.
Paul’s religious and personal development seems stilted, and it seems as though Sanchez wanted to make a point in writing this book and never really warmed to the topic internally. The religious point that God loves people as they are was well-received, but the dialogue was awkward and emotionless. I also found it odd that it was so clear that Paul was uncomfortable with his Latino heritage, but we never really found out why other than he just wanted to fit in with the other kids at his school. The book ends with a breezy and cheerful update on all the major characters, and manages to avoid any depth at all.
Lukewarm or not, Sanchez’s work can’t be ignored. The book covers an important topic, and contains points that may be of interest to religious LGBTQ teens, and for that reason it is recommended for all public and high school library collections.
Reviewed by guest blogger Kaye Moore
Posted in 2007, Alex Sanchez, gay male, gay-bashing, guest blogger, high school, latina/o, problem novel, queer protagonist, religion, secondary queer character | No Comments »
May 11th, 2010

Reviewed by guest blogger Kaye Moore
Robin Reardon, May 2008. Taylor Adams is an evangelical Christian who is totally down with Jesus Christ. He is also gay, and completely comfortable with that. However, since his family and small conservative hometown are not down with gay Christians (or gays in general), he is not loud and proud. He is quietly proud. Taylor is madly in love with his boyfriend Will, and after his parents try to fix him up with one Christian girl too many, he finally snaps and comes out to his parents. Their response is to send him to a Christian re-education center, where God will “heal” him of his desires.
At the center, which is named Straight to God, secrets start to come out about the dubious successes the center has produced with their gay and lesbian teens, which include suicides and the sexual abuse and murders of these teens by the head pastor. Luckily for Taylor, he keeps his sanity by being admitted to a secret society of revolutionary Christian teens that discuss the Bible freely and feel that God made gay and lesbian teens on purpose, and there is no sinful mistake there.
One thing I really liked about this book is that the theological ideas of Taylor and his friends were really well-developed, but they still sounded like conversations that kids might actually have. It seemed surprising to me that Taylor, having been raised in such a gay-unfriendly church, was so self-assured about his relationship with God, but I was willing to think of him that way since he was so smart about it all. Also, the moderate allies that Taylor and his friends developed showed a fair representation of many mainstream Christians, who may be open but just haven’t challenged old ideas yet. The villains though? They were completely over the top. I couldn’t put this book down, but when I came to the part when the lusty and deranged pastor lassoed Taylor, I think my eyes may have rolled a little.
This book would appeal to teens that enjoy reading about kids in extreme situations, but I think they would have to have some interest in religion, since it pervades every single page of this book. There are some brief but graphic depictions of oral sex and masturbation, as well as an attempted male rape scene which readers may want to be aware of. Overall, the title is a quick and compelling read, with likable characters and interesting theology, and recommended for all public library collections.
Reviewed by guest blogger Kaye Moore
Posted in 2008, Robin Reardon, gay male, guest blogger, problem novel, queer protagonist, religion, secondary queer character, sexual violence | 1 Comment »
May 9th, 2010

Reviewed by guest blogger Jonathan Drescher
Rigoberto González, April 2009. Meet the Fierce Foursome - Maui, Trini, Isaac, and Liberace - the founding members of The Mariposa Club. To memorialize their final year in high school, the boys set out to create Caliente Valley High School’s first LGBT organization. Their hope is to create something that future students like themselves can belong to, and to let the four of them leave something important behind before they all go their separate ways. The first semester of their senior year is filled with hardship for the four gay boys, even as they try to get the Mariposa club started. In a small, relatively intolerant town, life isn’t easy for those who are different.
The story is narrated by Maui, and through his eyes we follow the Fierce Foursome as they deal with:
-Family relationships (some even abusive)
-Community homophobia
-Life path decisions (college, work, love)
-High school
-Violence and tragedy
The voice of the novel rings true through most of the narrative. The reader gets involved in the lives of these young boys and the secondary characters in their lives. It speaks well to both the isolation and camaraderie of this tiny group as the only boys who have come out in their high school. Some of the conflict seems cliché — perhaps even a little forced — but it serves to help the novel hit on many different problems this age group could face, especially as an LGBT teen. Recommended for high school readers and above.
Reviewed by guest blogger Jonathan Drescher
Posted in 2009, Rigoberto Gonzalez, gay male, gay-bashing, guest blogger, high school, latina/o, queer protagonist, realistic | No Comments »
April 25th, 2010
Cheryl Rainfield, March 2010. This traditional problem novel manages to be both gruesome and cookie-cutter. It addresses teen Kendra’s cutting, her parents’ financial problems, her crush on sexy and sassy Meghan, and her quest to remember who raped her when she was a child. Anyone who’s ever read anything about childhood sexual abuse will be unsurprised to learn that Kendra’s father is the culprit; there should have been some sort of red herring or, conversely, creepiness in the dad from the beginning, but there isn’t. That was a mistake.
The relationship with Meghan, the most appealing character, is sweet. What isn’t is the Teacher as Savior trope, in this case (as in so many others) related to Art as Savior. Yes, Kendra’s escape from cruel reality is drawing, and the In-Tune Teacher is her art teacher. This book could be a guide to the formula of a problem novel. It also might just resonate with the many readers who are interested in these themes.
Posted in 2010, Cheryl Rainfield, gay-bashing, high school, lesbian, problem novel, queer protagonist, realistic, secondary queer character, sexual violence | No Comments »