by Honor
They tried so hard for you. Please keep trying. In 20 more years, you can start to finally see yourself and you will do anything to let that happen. You’re not disgusting. Not embarrassing. Not to be ashamed of.
Please. Honor. You will make this happen. We won’t let our life pass us by.
Please don’t let it, okay?
Love, Honor
by Kath Miller
Books have always been a tool for me to better understand myself and the world around me, but a sub-genre I have become increasingly interested in is queer literature. After several years of exploring the genre, there are 5 books in particular that stand out as important recommendations. And, except for one entry, they all have some sort of happy or satisfying conclusion that doesn’t result in too much queer suffering. So, allow me to walk you down a list of the 5 queer books that I think are worth your time.
Told in dual perspectives, Pulp by Robin Talley follows Janet Jones, an eighteen-year-old in 1955 who is coming to terms with her own queerness, and Abby Zimet, a modern-day teen whose senior project is 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. Abby is fascinated with one author in particular, Marion Love, and longs to track her down and find out who she really is.
This was a novel I picked up in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic, but it has stuck with me after all this time due to the real pieces of history surrounding lesbian pulp fiction that permeates throughout the book, as well as an extensive list of published lesbian pulp fiction of the time that the author included in the index. While the book is written with a YA audience in mind, it is definitely worth picking up if you are at all curious about the subject matter.
All The Young Men is a devastating, informative, and hopeful memoir all at the same time.
The subject of our story is Ruth Coker Burks, who in the midst of the AIDS crisis, went out of her way to house, feed, and befriend AIDS patients whose families had abandoned them, primarily in the Arkansas area. This memoir reveals the ugliest sides of humanity–families abandoning their sons due to their sexuality and the misinformation and inaction from the US government. However, it also reveals the good, as the relationships Coker Burns develops with these young men and her overwhelming kindness restores one’s faith in humanity a bit. I definitely recommend it for its examination of the AIDS crisis from a unique angle.
Funnily enough, I discovered this book on an assigned reading list for one of the last classes I took in my undergraduate studies; I have such clear memories of sitting in my university’s library for hours and just tearing through the novel. It was one of those books I finished before its due date… that’s how good it was.
This novel is set in Victorian London and follows Nan King, a young girl from Whitstable, Kent, who gets swept up in the male-impersonation music hall scene of that time upon meeting her idol Kitty Butler. This novel is particularly interesting with how it chooses to use the music hall space–creating a liminal space for the queer characters to exist without fear of violence from the public, which is an idea that continues on past the music hall chapters as well. Queer suffering not being the subject of this novel also makes it so refreshing as a reader, especially combined with the deconstruction of Victorian gender norms, making it a deeply gripping read.
Set in the late 1980s, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe tells the story of Evelyn and Mrs. Threadgoode–a middle-aged housewife and an elderly woman living in the same retirement home as her mother-in-law. During each of Evelyn’s visits, Mrs. Threadgoode begins telling the story of another two women–Idgie and Ruth–who ran a barbecue restaurant in Whistle Stop, Alabama, back in the 1930s.
This book has always stood out to me as it was one of the first books I ever read that depicted a lesbian romance. That and it made me laugh, cry, and turn the pages at an alarming rate to follow the twists and turns of the plot. It’s a heartwarming read and a very wholesome exploration of relationships between women–platonic and romantic. You won’t regret it!
The Color Purple was a book I had been urged to read for many a year before I finally purchased a copy and picked it up in the summer of 2023. My older sibling ultimately got me to read it.
“It’s about lesbians who live together and make pants,” they said, and they have great taste so I gave it a chance. My only regret is that I did not read it sooner
Winning the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1983, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple follows Celie, a poor Black girl living in rural Georgia in the 1900s. Celie’s story is one of horrific abuse that turns into one of self-discovery and empowerment. While the queer themes are not the central focus of this narrative, it is Celie’s relationship with Shug Avery that teaches her to love and value herself. This is my favorite book of all time and while it may not be as explicitly queer as the other entries, I simply had to include it as a book I think every single person should read.
Thus concludes my list of 5 queer books I think are worth reading. Seeing as how since the dawn of queer media, queer suffering has always been a low-hanging-fruit trope. Therefore, I was motivated to include books that showcase queer perseverance and strength. It is important to show queer readers of any age that hope and love can exist even in the face of tragedy.
I hope some of these entries made it onto your reading list and hopefully as I read more books in 2025, I will be able to expand upon this list with another! Thank you for reading.
When it came to my high school sex education, LGBTQ+ issues got a single slide in a powerpoint presentation and here’s what I learned: there is no cure for HIV, wear a condom if you have anal sex, and transgender people exist. That was it. As high school continued, I learned about sexual injuries not from the curriculum, but from two different queer classmates, one of whom ended up in the emergency room. Both young adults, like me, were unaware of the crucial safety measures specific to anal sex. These injuries could have easily been prevented if we had been properly educated. However, despite its failure, my high school sex education was still better than most. I have met several individuals who received no mention about the queer community in their sex-ed classes at all. This needs to change. No student should have to learn about such avoidable dangers through traumatic experiences.
The current standard for sex education in America heavily prioritizes heterosexual, cisgender students. It overlooks the needs and dangers specific to the queer community. According to the CDC, in 2020 alone, 20% of HIV diagnoses were people aged from 13 to 24. Despite the preventable nature of this issue, only 6% of high school students have been tested for HIV. And while it varies from state to state, data from School Health Profiles: Characteristics of Health Programs Among Secondary Schools shows that 39.3% of lead health education teachers from high schools across the nation received professional development on how to support LGBT students. That means that in most cases, queer students are left to their own devices, which can lead to increased spreading of STIs as well as sexual injuries.
Conversations about testing, PrEP (an HIV preventative medication), and being undetectable make all the difference, not only in making sex less scary for queer youth, but making it safer. And while the LGBTQ+ community is the most at risk, HIV affects everyone.
It’s important to recognize there is a disproportionate awareness between heteronormative and queer sex in society at large. Traditional “straight sex” is prominently represented in nearly all forms of media: TV shows, movies, books, songs, etc. Consequently, most people grow up and learn about that version of sex, even if it’s not explicitly taught. This is not to imply that heteronormative sex needs less coverage, rather, emphasize the importance of giving equal weight to queer sex education.
Sexual education is a powerful resource and it should be accessible to everyone. The next generations deserve an education that is more inclusive, one that helps them navigate the world, regardless of their gender and sexual identities.
The Queerest 