The most recommended books about homosexuality

One of my favourite YA novels ever! The narration in this book truly comes alive. Reading it, the narrator Dade just popped right out of the page and into my inner reading voice. He was so vibrant and full of personality, and while his misadventures were very unlike my own experiences, I still felt a connection to him. I was hooked from beginning to end! This book also inspired me to get back into writing my own novel, so it has a really special place in my heart.

This is a heartwarming contemporary story about a gay Aboriginal teen exploring his sexuality and falling in love for the first time, set against the vivid backdrop of a fictional, rural Indigenous community. It’s evocative and heady and compelling. It’s one of those stories that makes you want to reach into the book and hug all the characters and tell them everything is going to be okay. Such an important story from a brilliant new voice in Australian YA.

Eighteen-year-old Mac is still coming to terms with the murder of his best friend, Connor, the fourth and final victim of a serial killer who terrorized their community the previous summer. Stumbling upon a note Connor wrote to him the night he died that suggests Connor knew the identity of the killer, Mac embarks on his own investigation to learn what the victims may have had in common. The author deftly threads throughout his story tantalizing clues that draw readers deeper into the mystery, building wire-taut tension as the characters move inexorably toward a resolution that readers won’t see coming but is ultimately satisfying. Far more than a skilfully crafted whodunit, Keep This to Yourself is a compelling coming-of-age story that explores the evolution of friendship and the consequence of truth.

A girl from the past meets a boy from the present—cue the historical details and atmospheric settings. Not every love story ends with a happily ever after, yet sometimes the most impossible attractions are also the most compelling. This book left me captivated even after the last page.

You might believe that I chose this book solely based on the title.

I can’t deny finding the idea of having the cover out and actively reading it in front of the kind of people wanting to ban LGBTQ+ books is a tantalizing one. That said, the real reason I chose this book is it is a helpful guide to the LGBTQ+ community that uses inclusive language and describes the different ways people identify with copious amounts of humor and quotes from members of the community.

It has important information about a wide variety of topics that I wish were around in an easy-to-read format when I was younger. There are frank sex education discussions in this book, which is vital information to fill in the gaps in sex education in most schools. I have this one saved for when the younger members of my family are ready to start… show more.

As much as I love learning about things, I sometimes struggle when reading nonfiction. The topic might be fascinating to me, but dense blocks of text (or audio) make me tune out. That never happened with this book, though! Short, snappy chapters written in a conversational voice made me want to keep reading.

I loved the “Interludes” (side-note chapters) and the Q&A chapters with various experts in the field. Jules Zuckerberg’s illustrations and comic strips add humor to the text, and Eliot Schrefer’s well-researched book also includes extensive back matter with book lists, glossary, and notes.

For me, this book was a constant source of learning and wonder. I also felt a lot of frustration, though, because some of the information shared within Queer Ducks has been buried/ignored by the majority of the scientific community for decades, maybe even centuries.

I’m so grateful to Eliot Schrefer and Jules Zuckerberg for… show more.

Molope’s twitter profile features my favourite Toni Morrison quotation (one I want used in my obit, when the day comes), so I had to buy this novel.

Its core is about doing, or not doing, the right thing. I loved the writing, the moral complexity and the exploration of strangeness from the point of view of Naledi, a young teen, living in post-apartheid South Africa. She has moved from the bottom, a place of outhouses and rocks, to the top, a place of fountains and statues, and then discovers her brother is also a stranger. But then she warns us early that the township Marapong is a place you arrive at after "experiencing that unnerving feeling of being lost in a strange country with a strange language.”

Two Boys Kissing is a book about the culture and “inherited memory” of LGBTQ+ people. It is a crucial contribution because it bridges the generation of gay men living (and dying) through the AIDS crisis of the 1980s with the younger, modern LGTBQ+ generation who share similar challenges but haven’t connected to the wisdom of LGBTQ history. 

The story and characters affirmed my identity, named my pain, and brought it within the collective history of those who have carried the same burdens of shame, fear, and self-loathing.