Silhouette of a Sparrow

Molly Beth Griffin, September 2012. Garnet is sixteen years old in 1926 and plans to live the life her mother wants for her: she’ll graduate high school in a year and then marry her boyfriend and become a happy homemaker near her family in Minneapolis. The shadow over her life is her dad’s PTSD, earned during World War I. But when she’s sent to the resort town of Excelsior, Minnesota, for the summer to escape the polio epidemic, everything changes.

In Excelsior, Garnet stays with a distant relative, the haughty Mrs. Harrington, and her quiet, stuck-up teenage daughter Hannah. She longs to visit the brand-new amusement park or even the local dance hall, but the latter is strictly out of the question while the former can be enjoyed only under close supervision. Yearning to do something other than sit around on the patio sewing and gossiping with the Harringtons, Garnet gets her first job, in a hat shop, and that’s where she meets Isabella.

Isabella is a flapper and a dance-hall queen and a runaway, beautiful and mysterious and exotic. Garnet had no idea she might like girls, but her relationship with Isabella quickly turns physical, and provides the perfect escape from her troubles. Soon there is bad news from Minneapolis; her dad has left the family and her mom is coming to get her. Worse, Mom wants Garnet to drop out of high school and get a job to support her – or else get married right away so that the family has income.

I loved this sweet, sexy, feminist coming-of-age tale. The plot is quiet but moves swiftly, and even secondary characters are well-drawn and have their own subplots, e.g. Hannah can’t read very well, and the hat-shop owner uses feathers in her wares until Garnet shows her the environmentalist light. Okay, that part was a little heavy-handed. But overall the book was excellent.

I’m worried, though, about getting teens to pick it up. Historical fiction can be a tough sell to begin with, and when you add in the birdiness of the title and the brown and gray cover – which I personally think is pretty, but I’m thirty-six – well, I worry.

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Posted in 2012, bisexual, historical, lesbian, Molly Beth Griffin, problem novel, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, secondary queer character, surprise queer character | Leave a comment

Crazy

Amy Reed, June 2012.  Connor is just a regular kid who gets along with his mom, dates girls about whom he has conflicting feelings, and befriends the zany Izzy at summer camp. Izzy refuses to talk on the phone, so when summer’s over the two of them are reduced to emails, and this is how their story is relayed to the reader.  Putting aside how well-crafted the emails are, and how perfect the teens’ grammar and spelling is, their content is realistic and compelling.  At first, Connor tries for a two-way conversation, but Izzy keeps yelling at him and ignoring his questions, and her emails eventually disintegrate into either bully pulpits for her views on life, as she maniacally writes down everything she’s trying to feel all at once, or cries for help as she descends into crippling depressions that last for weeks. Sometimes Connor can’t reach her at all and he worries but there’s not much he can do without her phone number.

Connor is the kind of quietly cool yet geeky kid that makes me want to make this book into a movie and cast Cameron from The Glee Project as the male lead. It was harder to get a good read on Izzy outside of the heartbreaking seesaw of her moods, but Connor is a Good Guy who eventually is able to contact her parents even though he knows Izzy might never speak to him again.  I was terrified Izzy was going to die in the end, and I won’t tell you whether she does or not, but the degree to which I cared demonstrates how good Reed is at getting inside a character’s head. Highly recommended.

It’s also highly gay, considering that both leads are straight. Connor’s sister is a partnered lesbian having a baby. Connor makes out with a male friend just to give it a whirl. Izzy is straight but she wants to sleep with Pink. Connor’s girlfriend breaks up with him when she decides she’s gay. All of this is presented straightforwardly, just like the rest of the story, not problematized or stigmatized even within the book’s world. Yay.

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Posted in 2012, Amy Reed, bisexual, epistolary, gay male, gaytopia, lesbian, problem novel, queer adult, realistic, romance, secondary queer character, surprise queer character | Leave a comment

Boys of Summer

Steve Berman, ed., May 2012. This is another uneven collection of short stories from Bold Strokes, this one focusing on summer romances between young men. The standout story here is Alex Jeffers’s “Wheat, Barley, Lettuce, Fennel, Salt for Sorrow, Blood for Joy,” which features a boy on a boat trip with his parents who falls in love with a sailor; a mysterious herb garden and dreams based on ancient Anatolian myths add texture to this tale of a summer crush. Also strong is L. Lark’s summer-camp story, “Breakwater in the Summer Dark,” in which the discovery of a sea monster parallels the emotions of a budding romance. Rounding out the top three is Aimee Payne’s “Summer’s Last Stand,” in which a boy going off to college and happy to escape his bratty sister learns how much he means to her when they’re confronted by violent homophobes at a party.

Unfortunately, the other contributions aren’t as strong. ‘Nathan Burgoine’s “Leap” has problems with expository dialogue. Marguerite Croft and Christopher Reynaga’s “Brass” is more of a vignette than a fully-plotted story. Sam Cameron’s “Bark If You Like Boys” tries to cram too much into its 24 pages. Steve Berman’s own “Most Likely” introduces the concept of a haunted yearbook but fails to follow through on that and other plot threads; Anne Zeddies’s “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Swamp Thing” feels similarly unfinished. Shawn Syms’s “Get Brenda Foxworthy” and Dia Pannes’s “Cave Canem” feature gratuitious, violent drama and then cop out with sweet romantic endings.  Recommended only where short-story collections are popular and there is high demand for queer YA fiction.

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Posted in 'Nathan Burgoine, 2012, Aimee Payne, Alex Jeffers, Ann Tonsor Zeddies, asian american, bisexual, canadian, Christopher Reynaga, Dia Pannes, fantasy, gay male, gay-bashing, gaytopia, genderqueer, historical, L. Lark, latina/o, Marguerite Croft, problem novel, queer protagonist, realistic, romance, Sam Cameron, secondary queer character, Shawn Syms, short stories, Steve Berman | Leave a comment

Money Boy

Paul Yee, September 2011. Ray is a privileged Chinese-Canadian teen who struggles to hide his homosexuality from his family and friends. When his traditional, authoritarian dad checks his browser history and then throws him out of the house, Ray spends five days on the street, learning what it’s like to be unsure where his next meal is coming from and where he’ll sleep that night. He learns about a street corner where boys his age sell their bodies for easy money, and grows desperate enough – both for money and to lose his virginity – to give it a try himself.

The book ends too neatly; Ray’s father comes to find him on the streets and tells him his dying grandfather is flying in from China that evening, and won’t Ray come to see him?  Ray acquiesces, and ends up coming out to his family, and the grandfather is shockingly blasé and accepting. It’s also incredibly lucky that Ray’s first couple of johns are supportive and nurturing.  Still, the unique voice (very rarely are YA novels narrated by an ESL speaker) and the adventure story will make this appealing for many teens.

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Posted in 2011, asian, canadian, gay male, gay-bashing, Paul Yee, problem novel, prostitution, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic | Leave a comment

It’s Our Prom (So Deal With It)

Julie Anne Peters, April 2012. Man, for YEARS now I have really wanted to like a Julie Anne Peters book.  I mean, she’s a mainstream Big Six writer of teen lesbian and trans fiction. She’s like the David Levithan of dykes – except that Levithan’s a brilliant writer and Peters, well, isn’t.

But this book is different. It’s narrated by two kids, Luke and Azure, who are determined to make this year’s prom an alternative that everyone can enjoy.  Luke’s bi and Azure’s gay, so of course they want a prom without gender restrictions, but they go further than that – they want it cheap enough for everyone to afford, no formalwear required, Wii tournaments, free drugs, a tattoo parlor, and a drag show?  Kids these days. But as they work out compromises between what they want, what the senior class wants, what’s allowed by school authorities, and what they can afford, they learn about teamwork and transcending their cliques in some nice and non-clichéd ways.

Subplots abound: Azure and Luke both have crushes on Radhika, their third bestie.  Azure’s ex is haunting the edges of her life and it’s making her sad and wistful. Luke’s brother, who owns a limo company, is a jerk and is also in charge of him while their parents are abroad….and I totally did not see the resolution of this one coming.

The book is not perfect. It’s too long, and the romance bit with Azure and her ex is stupid, and I never did get a handle on Radhika. And I’m not sure why Ms. Peters’s editor didn’t correct her repeated references to “a monkey survey” (maybe in the finished version). Still: realistic characters with reasonable motivations, and no one dies in the end. Yay!

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Posted in 2012, bisexual, drag, gay male, gaytopia, genderqueer, high school, lesbian, prom, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, romance, secondary queer character | Leave a comment

Chulito

Charles Rice-González, October 2011.  Chulito is a small-time drug runner and high-school dropout with a secret: he’s crushing hard on Carlos.  Carlos and Chulito were childhood besties, but Carlos skipped two grades, stopped dressing and talking street, went off to college, and came out of the closet. Now Chulito’s buddies on the corner harass Carlos whenever they see him, and the two certainly can’t be seen together….and yet Chulito can’t stop thinking about Carlos.

Despite the street-culture background, the book is filled with queer people – the neighborhood drag queen hangs out her window begging passersby for drugs and popsicles. The Korean kid who works at his family’s Chinese restaurant wants Chulito to fix him up with any male friends who like Asian boys. The travel agency down the street is run by Julio, an older gay man who serves as the story’s moral center and voice of reason.

Like Street Dreams, Chulito makes the coming-out problem novel relevant again. I’ve read a bunch of stories in which a young man comes out into a macho culture, but each of those (Street Dreams excepted) describes a boy who’s always felt different, who’s not into the violence and exclusion of his peers, and that’s part of how he knows he’s gay. Chulito is different. He’s a thug, he sells drugs by choice, he enjoys killing time on the corner passing around a bottle of Hennessey, he loves wearing baggy pants and baseball caps and looking tough. He doesn’t want to change any of that – he just has a huge crush on a sexy college boy whose boldness he envies and respects: “[Chulito] loved how Carlos matter of factly said he dug him. That was up front and gangsta.”

At the end of the book, Chulito comes out to his boss Kamikaze, whose support and continued love means a lot to him and strengthens his resolve to come out to his other friends.  When he does, violence results, but all it really does is separate the homophobes from the true friends who can deal with Chulito’s new relationship.  Kamikaze isn’t as happy for Chulito when he announces his decision to leave the drug-dealing game; Kaz pulls a gun on Chulito in a dramatic scene, but continues to have his back in the end.

The book is a page-turner, tautly written with dialogue and details that carefully build a world many readers will never experience in real life.  My only quibble is that it could have used better editing.  A big publishing house would have the editorial talent to correct some pretty serious structural flaws, like a few shifts in perspective which seem to unintentionally switch the POV to Carlos’s. Maybe that’s been cleaned up in the final version, since what I read was an ARC.  Nevertheless, highly recommended.

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Posted in 2011, asian american, biracial, bisexual, Charles Rice-Gonzalez, drag, gay male, gay-bashing, genderqueer, latina/o, problem novel, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, romance, secondary queer character, sexual violence | 2 Comments

me@you.com

K.E. Payne, 2012.  This sweet story of first love starts out a bit expository, as protagonist Imogen discovers the joy of online friends via a message board about a popular TV show, but picks up quickly as she starts crushing on girls….GIRLS!  She freaks a little, tries the old “if I have sex with a boy, I’m straight, right?” and loses her virginity to her boyfriend Matt. Then she gets a giant crush on a cute girl from the message board, dumps Matt, and has a two-week lesbo fling before her heart is broken. Finally, she finds love in the arms of another online acquaintance who’s been a solid rock of a friend all along. They live happily ever after.

Payne gets a lot right here – the insanity of first teen love kicked up a notch by the fact that they’re both girls and think it’s normal to say “I love you” before they’ve even kissed is a great example. The way Imogen casually uses Matt even while she feels guilty about it is another, since it humanizes the character a bit. The only missteps come in the way Payne reveals the plot primarily through IM chat logs, message board posts, emails, and text messages. That device itself works well, but Payne’s made the choice to have her characters use print-caliber grammar, spelling, and punctuation, which makes the story more readable but far less realistic.

The other big problem is that Immy starts out as, seemingly, a complete Internet novice. This just isn’t realistic for a middle-class college student in 2011, particularly one who has a computer in her room and who awakens so quickly to the delights of online friendship and love. How could it be true that Immy’s never heard of IM before?

Still, a fresh, clean look at first girl/girl love and all of its baggage. Recommended.

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Posted in 2012, bisexual, college, european, gay male, K.E. Payne, lesbian, problem novel, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, romance, secondary queer character, surprise queer character | 2 Comments

Street Dreams

Tama Wise, March 2012. Tyson lives in downtown Auckland and dreams of being a graffiti artist, filling up notebooks with his hip-hop-influenced drawings. He spends his nights washing dishes to help his widowed mom pay the rent while evading the come-ons of sexy Zadie, and his days hanging out with his boy Rawiri.  He’s afraid to tell any of them what he’s feared for years: he’s gay.

This problem novel features the classic “coming out into a scary straight world” plot, but dressed up in new clothes as Tyson tries to figure out how he can be both tough and gay; both Maori and gay; both a graffiti artist and gay.  The setting is intriguing and almost otherworldly for American-centric readers like me: who even knew New Zealand had a hip-hop scene?  Asides about local vs. American rap and the difficulties moving from notebook art to spray-painting add even more interest. Recommended.

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Posted in 2012, bisexual, gay male, gay-bashing, polynesian, problem novel, queer protagonist, realistic, secondary queer character, surprise queer character, Tama Wise | 1 Comment

The Difference Between You and Me

Madeleine George, 2012.  It’s really hard to write a successful multiple-narrator novel and manage to keep the voices distinct.  George does a superb job here, aided by the fact that Jesse doesn’t actually narrate – it’s a pretty intimate third-person limited perspective, though. Anyway, Jesse is really our heroine.  She’s the daughter of activist parents who couldn’t care less that she’s gay, and indeed do that thing where they think she likes any girl she’s friends with, which is annoying but supportive. She has a huge crush on Emily, student council vice-president and all-around go-getter, and in fact they have a weekly makeout date in the library bathroom. Emily is insistent on keeping the whole thing a secret so she doesn’t shatter her perfect image or hurt her sweet-but-dull boyfriend’s feelings.

Jesse’s mostly okay with that, as long as they get to keep making out, but then suddenly their worlds collide.  Jesse and her new bff Esther are planning a revolution of sorts around the school dance, which Emily has convinced StarMart to sponsor.  This thinly-veiled fictional version of WalMart has done all of the awful things to small-town economies, women, and the environment that the real-world store has, so Jesse and Esther plan an alternative dance and an awareness campaign without realizing it was Emily’s idea in the first place. This, as you might imagine, causes drama.

The story is just complicated enough, and the girls are totally real, and the makeout scenes are hot, even though they’re mostly just kissing.  Preorder now!

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Posted in 2012, bisexual, fat, gay male, gay-bashing, gaytopia, high school, lesbian, Madeleine George, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, secondary queer character | Leave a comment

Nightsiders

Sue Isle, March 2011. Every time I get sick of the indie presses — thinking they just don’t attract quality authors and then don’t have the editorial skill to turn around the mediocre manuscripts they do get — a book like Nightsiders comes around to prove me wrong.  This slim paperback from Australian indie Twelfth Planet Press is a haunting dystopia with just enough plot to keep the story going while the world is built via the experiences of a set of well-drawn characters. There are four long stories or short novellas included, all set in the same futuristic Australia after a time of extreme climate change, each told from a different POV. The book opens with teenage Kyra escaping from the tyrannical woman who raised her and finding comfort in a new, created “family.”  Next is Ash, who’s struggling to rid himself of his female body, but he needs connections, support, and money even to get to the hospital. Then comes Shani, whose job involves hunting through civilization’s ruins to find goods useful to her tribe — like batteries, medicine, or even an old screenplay that her little gang of actors can stage. Finally we meet Ellen, the only non-adolescent narrator, who teaches academic subjects to the kids in her tribe but is convinced to adapt to the times.  At only 138 high-interest pages, this will appeal to reluctant readers as well as dystopia-loving bookworms. Highly recommended.

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Posted in 2011, australian, drag, gaytopia, problem novel, queer adult, queer protagonist, realistic, short stories, Sue Isle, trans | Leave a comment