Fiction books with lgbt characters
To all the readers tired of generic representation and sloppy LGBT characters thrown into a storyline for some diversity, this is for you. The following is a list of fictional works with LGBT main characters whose plots don&#;t completely revolve around their coming out, their sex lives or struggles with being a part of the queer community.
Each story is rated based on the quality and originality of the writing style, how central the LGBT characters are to the plot and how diverse the characters in the story are overall. Anywhere from a half point to a full point is deducted if the book lacks these criteria or contains elements that hinder the LGBT narrative.
It&#;s time we acknowledge and embrace more stories where gay and trans people can exist in worlds of magic and superpowers, action and romance science fiction and horror. Stories where they have lengthy, detailed backstories and depth. The queer community isn&#;t a monolith, and it deserves to be represented in as many other roles as straight people possess been portrayed in.
Six Of Crowsby Leigh Bardugo (/10)
Set
Brilliant LGBTQ+ books you may not have discovered yet
Books have the power to make you touch like you belong to something bigger, and that's particularly relevant to LGBTQ+ literature. These are groundbreaking books that celebrate otherness and queerness, and make you feel a part of something. Most importantly, they are about love. They are about being utterly and uniquely yourself.
This following list of must-read LGBTQ+ fiction and non-fiction doesn’t seek to provide a detailed account of the queer canon, but rather to give you a starting point, or an ‘I call for to read that again’ moment, or simply to remind you that there are lots of other people in this world who felt the same strange kick in the gut when they read Giovanni’s Room, or Genet, or Hollinghurst for the first hour, or who recognised the oddly liberating sorrow of Jeanette Winterson’s coming-out-gone-wrong in Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, or enjoyed the comforting company of community in the inhabitants of Armistead Maupin’s San Francisco.
To nab a phrase from Allen Ginsberg, we’re &
LESS, by Andrew Sean Greer. Adj, sweet, and beautifully written, with lovable, fallible characters, great comic timing, exotic locales, and moments of real insight into human nature. I adore this manual, though sometimes it hits a little too close to home: The main character is a neurotic novelist who bumbles through life and relationships, just as I do.
AT SWIM, TWO BOYS, by Jamie O’Neill. Historical fiction at its best, centered around the Easter Rising in Dublin in but primarily a like story about two teenage boys caught up in the violence happening all around them. Intelligent, thoughtful, and well-researched, it’s also sexy as hell without being overly graphic. The writing is top-notch, alternately funny and poignant, though sometimes I found the Irish dialect a challenge.
CLICKING BEAT ON THE BRINK OF NADA, by Keith Hale. Originally published in , this is a great coming-of-age story about adolescent first loves. The writing is crisp and straightforward, with tons of heart and some charming erotic momen
The debut individual novel by the bestselling and award-winning YA author Nina LaCour, Yerba Buena is a verb story for our time and a propulsive journey through the lives of two women trying to find somewhere, or someone, to call home.
In , the bookshop I work for decided to start a couple of book clubs, and I offered to become the host and organise these meetings. They became something to bring people together (online) during a pandemic, and they provided a way to continue to learn in community.
For Educate Yourself Book Club — where we read books on subjects like racism, feminism, LGBTQIAP+ identity, fatphobia, and ableism — we pick fiction and nonfiction books we want to peruse together, and then we confer what we have learned, bringing the books and our personal stories to the table.
No one in this group is an expert; we stay respectful and open to learning, using the tools at hand, and exchanging stories. It’s a humbling and interesting way to spend more time thinking about social matters, our own privileges, an