Tuesday Top Five: Reading The Rainbow
Jun. 2nd, 2026 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nevannaAs Pride Month begins, I want to acknowledge some of the formative books by and/or about queer people that I read in my youth, mostly at a point before I acknowledged that I myself probably wasn’t straight, but definitely knew what it was like to not fit in.
1. Annie On My Mind (1982) by Nancy Garden
During her first semester at MIT, Liza reflects on a romance that unfolded over the previous year, and which was complicated by a scandal that drove a wedge between Annie and herself.
In an interview that accompanied the 25th-anniversary edition of her groundbreaking novel, Garden said that reading lesbian pulp fiction and The Well of Loneliness, all of which ended in tragedy for their lesbian characters, “made me vow to someday write a book about my people with a happy ending. Annie On My Mind was that book!” She also talks about the evolution of LGBTQ+ fiction for young readers since the 1980s, and I would be very surprised if none of those later writers were similarly inspired by her work.
2. Weezie Bat (1989) by Francesca Lia Block
In a gloriously surreal version of Los Angeles, Weetzie forms a chosen family with her friend Dirk, their respective partners, and the two girls that they’re raising together.
One could technically designate Dirk as Weetzie’s “gay best friend” but I think that would be reductive, since his desires and happiness are given more or less equal narrative weight to hers. The climax of the book is actually from Dirk’s perspective, as he tracks down his love, Duck, after an AIDS scare, and they agree that despite the uncertainty that comes with their relationship, “we can’t be anywhere except together.” (My sisters and I read this book aloud to each other while on vacation last year, and we reached an unspoken consensus to give Duck the most himbo surfer voice ever.)
3. Living in Secret (1993) by Cristina Salat
When Amelia’s parents divorced, her wealthy father gained custody, but Amelia has always wished that she could live with her mother, Claire, and Claire’s girlfriend, Janey. The three of them make a plan to move to San Francisco together, but that means lying about their identities and constantly looking over their shoulders in case somebody figures out the truth and separates them again.
I definitely knew queer adults when I was a child, but I didn’t see them very often or give much thought to their personal lives, so the first time I asked my mom what “straight” and “gay” and “lesbian” meant as identities or relationships, it was because I’d read them in this book. (Since she was and is very cool, she explained the terms to me outright.) The intrigue of the story’s premise – as Amelia explores the city, makes friends to whom she has to lie constantly, and starts to consider what she might want romantically – is compelling enough on its own, but Claire and Janey’s relationship (which they have to hide from the public even in a progressive urban setting) adds texture and tension to their attempts to build a new life. Even after multiple rereads, the ending of the book has made me tear up.
4. No Big Deal (1994) by Ellen Jaffe-Gill (writing as Ellen Jaffe McClain)
Fourteen-year-old Janice’s school and hometown are shaken by rumors that her favorite teacher is gay, and when her mother joins the crusade to get Mr. Padovano fired, Janice knows that she has to stand up for what is right.
Growing up relatively sheltered in a small rural town in the pre-Internet 1990s, I learned a lot about the world and its injustices through fiction. This book gave me my first glimpse at how scary and devastating homophobic moral panics can be, both for their targets and for the surrounding community. Janice (who is plus-sized and Jewish, traits that inform her story but don’t define them) is a very sympathetic protagonist, and her rapport with Mr. P, and more fraught relationships with her mother and the school bully, are well-realized and memorable.
5. Empress of the World (2001) by Sara Ryan
During an academic summer program, aspiring archaeologist Nic falls for a beautiful dancer named Battle and faces the exhilaration and heartbreak of young love.
Although the romance between the two girls is well-written and compelling, some of my favorite scenes in Ryan’s debut novel focus on the dynamics among their friend group, which reminded me of some of my most nostalgic summer camp memories. Battle is the main character of a companion novel, The Rules For Hearts, which also offers some enjoyable and engaging moments but has a very different tone and appeal.
Honorable Mention: The Alice series (1985-2013) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Although Naylor did introduce a lesbian side character around the midpoint of her long-running series, I primarily wanted to shout it out because of Elizabeth, one of Alice’s best friends. Although Liz never identifies as any variety of queer that I can recall, I saw a lot of my own feelings – which later led me to realize that I’m on the ace spectrum – reflected in her ambivalence toward sex and relationships. I still hope to write a longer essay on this topic someday.
1. Annie On My Mind (1982) by Nancy Garden
During her first semester at MIT, Liza reflects on a romance that unfolded over the previous year, and which was complicated by a scandal that drove a wedge between Annie and herself.
In an interview that accompanied the 25th-anniversary edition of her groundbreaking novel, Garden said that reading lesbian pulp fiction and The Well of Loneliness, all of which ended in tragedy for their lesbian characters, “made me vow to someday write a book about my people with a happy ending. Annie On My Mind was that book!” She also talks about the evolution of LGBTQ+ fiction for young readers since the 1980s, and I would be very surprised if none of those later writers were similarly inspired by her work.
2. Weezie Bat (1989) by Francesca Lia Block
In a gloriously surreal version of Los Angeles, Weetzie forms a chosen family with her friend Dirk, their respective partners, and the two girls that they’re raising together.
One could technically designate Dirk as Weetzie’s “gay best friend” but I think that would be reductive, since his desires and happiness are given more or less equal narrative weight to hers. The climax of the book is actually from Dirk’s perspective, as he tracks down his love, Duck, after an AIDS scare, and they agree that despite the uncertainty that comes with their relationship, “we can’t be anywhere except together.” (My sisters and I read this book aloud to each other while on vacation last year, and we reached an unspoken consensus to give Duck the most himbo surfer voice ever.)
3. Living in Secret (1993) by Cristina Salat
When Amelia’s parents divorced, her wealthy father gained custody, but Amelia has always wished that she could live with her mother, Claire, and Claire’s girlfriend, Janey. The three of them make a plan to move to San Francisco together, but that means lying about their identities and constantly looking over their shoulders in case somebody figures out the truth and separates them again.
I definitely knew queer adults when I was a child, but I didn’t see them very often or give much thought to their personal lives, so the first time I asked my mom what “straight” and “gay” and “lesbian” meant as identities or relationships, it was because I’d read them in this book. (Since she was and is very cool, she explained the terms to me outright.) The intrigue of the story’s premise – as Amelia explores the city, makes friends to whom she has to lie constantly, and starts to consider what she might want romantically – is compelling enough on its own, but Claire and Janey’s relationship (which they have to hide from the public even in a progressive urban setting) adds texture and tension to their attempts to build a new life. Even after multiple rereads, the ending of the book has made me tear up.
4. No Big Deal (1994) by Ellen Jaffe-Gill (writing as Ellen Jaffe McClain)
Fourteen-year-old Janice’s school and hometown are shaken by rumors that her favorite teacher is gay, and when her mother joins the crusade to get Mr. Padovano fired, Janice knows that she has to stand up for what is right.
Growing up relatively sheltered in a small rural town in the pre-Internet 1990s, I learned a lot about the world and its injustices through fiction. This book gave me my first glimpse at how scary and devastating homophobic moral panics can be, both for their targets and for the surrounding community. Janice (who is plus-sized and Jewish, traits that inform her story but don’t define them) is a very sympathetic protagonist, and her rapport with Mr. P, and more fraught relationships with her mother and the school bully, are well-realized and memorable.
5. Empress of the World (2001) by Sara Ryan
During an academic summer program, aspiring archaeologist Nic falls for a beautiful dancer named Battle and faces the exhilaration and heartbreak of young love.
Although the romance between the two girls is well-written and compelling, some of my favorite scenes in Ryan’s debut novel focus on the dynamics among their friend group, which reminded me of some of my most nostalgic summer camp memories. Battle is the main character of a companion novel, The Rules For Hearts, which also offers some enjoyable and engaging moments but has a very different tone and appeal.
Honorable Mention: The Alice series (1985-2013) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Although Naylor did introduce a lesbian side character around the midpoint of her long-running series, I primarily wanted to shout it out because of Elizabeth, one of Alice’s best friends. Although Liz never identifies as any variety of queer that I can recall, I saw a lot of my own feelings – which later led me to realize that I’m on the ace spectrum – reflected in her ambivalence toward sex and relationships. I still hope to write a longer essay on this topic someday.
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Date: 2026-06-03 05:01 am (UTC)^