Trans-Affirming Picture Books 2019

Currently Reading: Gideon the Ninth, by Tamsyn Muir.

Several months ago, I wrote a post that was a roundup of picture books from 2018 that were – if not explicitly trans-celebratory – trans-affirming. I decided to do the same thing to close out this year, with some of my favourites from 2019.

Here’s the thing: I have the best complaint this year. I tried to do the same thing with this list as I did with my 2018 list, and go broad – including lots of books that were not QT explicit, but that could still be considered affirming (see: my favourite picture book of all time, Not Quite Narwhal, by Jessie Sima). And there were too many. I had to narrow this list a lot. And this post is long.

The books I chose are an assortment from board books to child-friendly graphic novels. Some have trans characters, while others have themes of celebrating difference or gender non-conformity, and some are books that are naturally gender-neutral. Either way, they are all fantastic reads that any young person (QT or not) would be happy to have in their collection.

My Shape is Sam, by Amanda Jackson, and illustrated by Lydia Nichols, tells the story of a character named Sam in a binary world. While circles and squares have distinct roles in this world, Sam longs to be a circle, although he is a square. This book is an affirming exploration of identity and non-conformity, through a simple, geometric story.

I was charmed by A Little Bit Different, by Claire Alexander. It’s a simple and whimsical story about not fitting in, and eventually finding your place and being celebrated. Likely not coincidentally, the colours in this book are rainbow-themed, which makes it a nice under-the-radar Pride book.

You Are New by Lucy Knisley is the perfect gift for new parents of infants, or very young children. This book is written entirely in the second person, and the illustrations are diverse, making it a great gender-neutral choice that’s hard to fault.

What Riley Wore, by Elana K. Arnold, and illustrated by Linda Davick, has an explicitly gender-creative main character in Riley, whose story explores self-expression through clothing. This book is a great companion book to Harriet Gets Carried Away, by Jessie Sima, and a perfect choice for any kid who loves to be creative through fashion.

Mary Wears What She Wants, by Keith Negley, is based on the true story of Mary Edwards Walker, a 19th century doctor who defied the gender stereotypes of her time, and faced incarceration because of the risks that she took. A historical trailblazer, this book is great for showing kids what can be accomplished when we don’t allow social expectations to define us.

A perfect contemporary companion to Mary Wears What She Wants, Patricia Toht and and Lorian Tu-Dean’s Dress Like a Girl is the story of a group of girls at a sleepover party who explore resisting gender stereotypes through what it means to bend the rules of dressing like a girl. Although this book is highly gendered, it’s a great book to encourage gender creativity.

2019 was a good year for rainbow-themed books – and finally some that aren’t written exclusively by white men! The first that I’ll write about is The Rainbow Flag: Bright, Bold, and Beautiful, by Michelle Fisher and illustrated by Kat Kuang. This book tells the story of the creation of the first Pride flag in 1978.

I am super excited about Ho’onani: Hula Warrior, by author Heather Gale, who currently lives in my Canadian local of Toronto, and illustrator Mika Song. Gale grew up in New Zealand, and Song was raised in Manila, Philippines and Honolulu, Hawai’i. This book tells the story of Ho’onani Kamai, a gender non-conforming hula dancer, who dreams of leading the all-male hula group at her school. Ho’onani is an explicitly non-binary main character, and the book is an exploration of empowerment through traditional culture.

This is the year for LGBTQ2S+ board books, in my opinion. In 2019, we got rad books for the youngest readers, like My Two Moms and Me and My Two Dads and Me by Michael Joosten and illustrated by Izack Zenou… and countless others. I actually started a list, but there are genuinely too many to be exhaustive here. There are a few that I found to be specifically trans-affirming in a way that’s accessible, however, and I’ve included them here. The first is Pride Colors, by Canadian author Robin Stevenson, is a board book for young readers introducing the colours of the Pride flag, and affirming the freedom of children to always be who they want to be.

Cover of I Promise.

I Promise is written by the incredible Catherine Hernandez, whose previous picture book, M is for Mustache: A Pride ABC Book is one of my favourites. Hernandez is of Filipino, Spanish, Chinese and Indian heritage, and she is married into the Navajo Nation. She is one of the locals who I have occasion to see on stage pretty regularly, and I am a huge admirer. She recently performed burlesque at my shop’s Toronto launch of Cherie Dimaline’s new novel, Empire of Wild. The illustrator of I Promise is trans artist Syrus Marcus Ware, who is also a core team member of Black Lives Matter Toronto.

I had the honour to be present for the launch of I Promise at the Toronto indie where I work, Another Story bookshop. The event was rush-moved to our store from the Toronto Public Library, since Hernandez and Ware were among the authors supporting the trans community in Toronto as they spoke out against the transphobic hate speech event that was held there and supported by the City Librarian, Vickery Bowles (I wrote about this in a previous post). The launch featured Fluffy and Fay, local drag queen story time celebrities.

Hernandez’ reading of I Promise was engaging and charming, and had all of the kids in the room joining in and listening rapt. This is a book that I would recommend to any child, since its primary subject matter is non-nuclear families, which is particularly affirming to LGBTQ2S+ folks who are part of or have built families that are rarely reflected in children’s literature. It’s also illustrated by a trans artist, who is great role model for trans kids who aspire to careers in the arts one day.

When Aidan Became a Brother is an #OwnVoices picture book by trans masculine author and librarian Kyle Lukoff, and illustrated by Kaylani Juanita, that tells the story of a young trans boy who is becoming a sibling for the first time. It’s a beautifully illustrated diverse book, and while it is nuanced, there’s no overt villain. It’s a refreshing take on a trans narrative, penned by an insider author.

There is nothing specifically trans-affirming in Incredible You by Rhys Brisenden and Nathan Reed, except that the book is centred on self-affirmation and positivity. I decided to include it here because it’s a fun book that could resonate with any child, and it’s a vibrant feast for the eyes. For someone looking for a bit more of a general inclusive read, this would be an uplifting, safe pick.

I Am Not a Fox by Karina Wolf and illustrated by Chuck Groenink is one of my favourite trans and/or non-binary affirming books of the year. It tells the story, through charming and adorable illustrations, of Luca, who looks like a fox, but acts like a dog. To no one’s surprise, this book has been compared to Not Quite Narwhal, by Jessie Sima – my all-time favourite picture book – because both books remind readers that you don’t need to choose to be just one thing in order to find your place in the world. Also? This book is cute AF, has a charming feminine protagonist, and is great for animal lovers big or small.

Another one of my favourites this year, and the second #OwnVoices picture book on this list, is It Feels Good to Be Yourself, illustrated by non-binary artist Noah Grigni, and written by parenting writer and podcaster Theresa Thorn. The art in this book is breathtaking, and there is fantastic diverse representation throughout. The book is part story, part educational, and explains many concepts of gender in accessible, age-appropriate ways, without leaning heavily on binary stereotypes in either the text or artwork. This is a fantastic primer for any kid or parent to learn how to talk about gender, how to explore gender, and how to have affirming and creative conversations about gender. If I had to pick one picture book this year to put in every classroom and every home, it would be this one.

Sarah Hoffman, Ian Hoffman, and Chris Case are back in 2019 with Jacob’s Room to Choose, the follow up to their 2014 title, Jacob’s New Dress. In this new title, Jacob and a new friend, Sophie, tackle the dreaded issues of gendered school washrooms, prejudice, and self-expression.

Sam!, written by Dani Gabriel and illustrated by Robert Liu-Trujillo, feels like a bit of a throwback to me, but it’s always nice to see that there are more explicit trans stories on the shelves as time goes on. This book is similar to I Am Jazz, in that it tells the coming out story of a trans youth, and it is based on a true story. In Sam!, the MC is trans masculine.

Local author Ishta Mercurio, who wrote the recent picture book Small World, turned me on to Ogilvy as a trans-affirming story. This story, from Deborah Underwood and illustrated by T. L. McBeth, is about a bunny named Ogilvy who moves to a new town, where activities are gender-prescribed. As the pub copy reveals, Ogilvy shows readers that the clothes don’t make the bunny, and embraces all the fun things there are to do. This story is useful for deconstructing gendered expectations, as well as affirming for non-binary kids.

Rainbow: A First Book of Pride, by Michelle Genhart and illustrated by Anne Passchier, and GayBCs, by M. L. Webb, are two more board books that came out this year. Rainbow focuses specifically on LGBTQ2S+ families, and would be most appropriate during the Pride season or for a child who is part of a family who identifies as such, and the GayBCs are an accessible exploration of the LGBTQ2S+ lexicon through the alphabet – including words such as “non-binary”!

Our Rainbow, from Little Bee Books in partnership with GLAAD, is perhaps my favourite 2019 board book, because not only is it a book that’s age-accessible, it’s also the first book that I’ve seen that features the updated Pride flag that includes Black and Brown stripes. If I had to pick one board book for new QT parents or a young child, this would be it. The story is a simple, colourful exploration of the flag, each colour has a different artist who worked on the illustrations, and the book has an interesting geometric design (the board itself is in the shape of the waving flag).

For slightly older readers, Not Yet a Yeti by Lou Treleaven and illustrated by Tony Neal is funny, trendy, and symbolically affirming of the trans experience, particularly for young people undergoing or wanting to learn about medical transition. In this rainbow-themed book with flashy illustrations, a family of yetis has a child who doesn’t wish to grow up to be a yeti, but rather chooses to grow up to be a unicorn. Affirmed by his family, the young yeti becomes a unicorn, and finds a fulfilling role in the social ecosystem! It’s a lighthearted, uplifting story, and it will make young readers laugh.

A final board book put out in 2019, An ABC of Equality introduces young readers to social justice concepts, including LGBTQ2S+ inclusion, in an age-appropriate way. Written by Chana Ginelle Ewing and illustrated by Paulina Morgan, this one doesn’t pull any punches, and is perfect for early activists – plus it has on the page representation of diversity in physical ability.

And last, but absolutely not least, Except When They Don’t by Laura Gehl and illustrated by Joshua Heinsz is colourful, and rhyming, and super engaging! This is another book in partnership with GLAAD, and it focuses explicitly on deconstructing gendered stereotypes about toys and play. This would be a great fit with other books in this list, like Ogilvy, or favourites from last lear, like Jamie is Jamie, by Afsaneh Moradian, and illustrated by Maria Bogade.

Cover of Let Me Out.

I would be remiss to not mention Let Me Out! A pop-out about coming out., by Omid Razavi. This Kickstarted pop-up book is super rad. The art is absolutely incredible, and the book has on the page representation of many different parts of the LGBTQ2S+ community. Although it may seem most applicable to a queer “coming out”, this book should really be in the hands of all young people.

For some reason, it’s incredibly difficult to find videos and images of this book in its finished state. The book’s website has an FAQ and a few computer-generated images of the cutouts inside the book, but it doesn’t do the finished product justice. This is a great tool to open conversations about sharing information about identity. The only aspect of this book that doesn’t resonate with me personally is that one of the main characters appears representative of drag culture, and that’s not something that I find helpful to me. That said, it does mean that much of the book is colourful, spirited, and glitter-filled!

Cover of Phoenix Goes to School.

There was one book that was published in 2018 that I missed in my wrap-up list from last year, and that I came across when compiling this list. I would be remiss not to write about Phoenix Goes to School, by Michelle and Phoenix Finch, and illustrated by Sharon Davey. Written with input from Phoenix, this story is about a gender non-conforming youth going to school and having conversations about gender for the first time. It is intended to support trans readers aged 3 and up who are navigating worries about being bullied.

I know that graphic novels and picture books are not the same thing. However, for readers who are taking the first steps from picture books to reading more complex texts (usually chapter books), graphic novels can be a great stepping stone. They can also be great for older readers who love illustrated work. These two graphic novels are two of my favourite books this year, and they are 100% child-appropriate. They would make great read aloud choices, or books for a group of readers at different levels to share.

Pilu of the Woods by Mai K. Nguyen tells the story of Willow, a character who is not explicitly gendered, as they learn to navigate complex emotions, while at the same time developing a relationship with Pilu, a tree spirit who is lost in the woods near where Willow lives. The illustrations in this book are unique and detailed, both cute and incredibly evocative. This story feels heavily steeped in nature, and I found it intensely relatable as an adult reader. Everyone should read it. It’s charming AF.

I was so excited for the release of Katie O’Neill’s The Tea Dragon Festival, sequel to The Tea Dragon Society, and it did not disappoint. If I’m being completely honest, I actually like this second volume better than the original story. There is skillful on the page representation of disability, Deaf culture, and gender and racial diversity. The prowess, humility, and gentleness, with which O’Neill delivers on representation in these whimsical and transportive stories, sets a high standard for other authors and artists.

Logo for the Launch Crew of MK England's upcoming book, Spell Hacker.

If you enjoyed reading these recommendations, and would like some of your own, head on over to my contact page, and send me a message! I love giving recs and readers’ advisory, and have lots of experience from my work as a bookseller.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my dogs, and pursuing completion of my education in social work.

(Lots of) Picture Books for Grown Ups

Currently Reading: The Ghost Bride, by Yangsze Choo

A Useful Resource on Trans Language

I was recently tipped off about the Trans Language Primer by someone in a Slack, and when I was reminded about it during #IAmNonBinary Day on Twitter, I realized that it would be a great resource to share here. This is an extensive, ongoing glossary of trans-related terminology.

Blog Redesign and Relaunch

The final artwork by Ice for the blog’s redesign is done, and to celebrate, I will be hosting a giveaway on my Twitter when the full relaunch goes live in TWO WEEKS. On October 28th, I will have a new post, and the site will be fully redesigned. Check out my Twitter account that day to help me spread the word, and to get some spooky swag. The winners of the giveaway will be announced on my favourite day of the year: Halloween!

A purple book with a boney spine and ruffled pages.
A sample of the new artwork for the site, by Ice!

A Quick Personal Note…

Since we’re talking picture books this week, let me introduce you to Mia, a young girl who wants a puppy more than anything… but whose family thinks their city apartment is too small to accommodate a polka dot pet. In this new version of a traditional Yiddish folktale, Mia reminds her family that… there is always room for one more.

The cover of No Room for a Pup, which shows an open door, and in the doorway stands a black and white spotted puppy, holding a red leash in their mouth, with their head cocked to the side.

Spoiler alert: I am Mia. In this most literary of coincidences, No Room For A Pup, by Elizabeth Suneby and illustrated by Laurel Molk, was released on October 1st… on October 7th, my partner and I welcomed the newest addition to our family… meet Pavot!

A Dalmatian puppy lounging on a dog bed.

Pavot is a deaf Dalmatian puppy born on August 10th, whose name means “poppyseed” in French (one of my first languages). He joins D and Boom, two 11-year-old greyhounds, Whisper and Willow, our formerly feral cats, and my partner and I in our 500 square foot city apartment. It’s cozy in here, yall. To commemorate, both my partners and I have revamped a neglected Instagram account to showcase pictures of ALL the animals in our large, spread out, polyamorous family. Check them out!

Recommendations: Picture Books for Grown Ups

The Festival of Literary Diversity in Brampton, affectionately known as the FOLD, is my not-so-secret favourite literary festival. Since 2018, the indie where I work has been the festival’s official bookseller. This year, the FOLD launched FOLD Kids, and I had the pleasure of attending all weekend as the book vendor. After spending three days selling picture books, sometimes to caregivers or educators, but also to adult customers, I tweeted my love of picture books. Although I don’t have any children in my life in Toronto, I have a massive collection of picture books. Some of them are from my own childhood, but many are more recent. My partners and I love sharing them with the kids in our lives, but we also read them to each other, and sometimes to our pets. I also find them therapeutic to read myself, when my academic adult life gets too intense. They are nurturing works of art, and I would recommend every adult have a few favourites in their home.

My favourite picture book of all time is Not Quite Narwhal, by Jessie Sima. It’s a beautifully-illustrated story about a unicorn named Kelp who grows up believing himself to be a narwhal. He has to come to terms with his identities when he meets unicorns for the first time. This book is magical and engaging, but what made me cry when I first read it was that it is the most stealth book for affirming non-binary identity that I have ever encountered. I recommend this book – and the others by Sima – to everyone, and I handsell it all the time.

The cover of Not Quite Narwhal, by Jessie Sima. The cover depicts a unicorn wearing a scuba helmet, swimming in a ray of sunshine under the sea. There is help below and three fish swimming alongside.

After my tweet, I was approached by one of the FOLD organizers, who asked for more picture book recommendations

They told me:

  1. They were very behind on children’s lit.
  2. They like animals, nature, space, mysticism, and Halloween-themed books, and asked specifically for recommendations for books about sadness.

…and I wanted to focus on diverse books as much as possible, since that’s the focus of the FOLD, and on things that have come out recently. As far as I knew, these books were purely for the enjoyment of the person who asked, so this is not necessarily the same list I would offer if I had a child in mind. This is a much longer list than some of my previous lists of recommendations, since most of these books are quick little gems.

Spooky Season Picks

The cover of Lots of Cats, by E. Dee Taylor. Cover depicts in bright colours a small witch stirring a cauldron. Green smoke pours out, and cat eyes peek out from the smoke.

I started with some seasonal faves. I instantly fell in love with Lots of Cats by E. Dee Taylor when it was released in 2018. It was my staff pick Halloween book for that year. This book is bright, and colourful, and has a touch of 90’s nostalgia. The illustrations feature stunning neon colours that appear as though drawn by hand with coloured pencils. The story features an independent witch, who decides to conjure herself a furry friend, and ends up with more company than she bargained for. Let’s just say that I find this story… relatable.

The cover of Alfred's Book of Monsters. Depicts a small boy reading in a large armchair, with a tiny ghost beside him, frowning. In the background are the shadows of three, much larger, creatures, with glowing eyes.

Just in time for Halloween this year, Alfred’s Book of Monsters by Sam Streed is a new release that’s reminiscent of Edward Gorey’s work. It’s about a young Victorian boy who has an interest in monsters, despite his proper family’s objections. For those who enjoy a gothic Spooky Season aesthetic, this is my 2019 recommendation. My favourite Halloween season recommendation, however, remains How to Make Friends with a Ghost, which is written and illustrated by American Rebecca Green, who is currently making her home in Osaka, Japan. This book is a detailed guide for how to care for a ghost who you wish to befriend. A useful and delightful book for any lonesome ghost enthusiast.

The cover of How to Make Friends with a Ghost, which depicts a skeptical-looking feminine child sitting on a swing, and a blushing, hopeful-looking ghost hovering above the swing next to her.

My last recommendation is a recent release that stole my heart. Recently, middle grade author Ally Malinenko tweeted, “All stories about witches are stories about survival and all stories about ghosts are stories about grief. Children need scary stories to understand how to survive and to learn how to say goodbye.” This has certainly been true in my own life, both as a child, and an adult. Unfortunately, one of my 11-year-old dogs was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer, and I’ve experienced a lot of anticipatory grief through the time that we’ve been recently spending spoiling her. When I came across Kevan Atteberry’s Ghost Cat, a picture book about a young boy who’s sure he has a haunted house, it felt relatable and poignant – and also made me giggle. This is a sweet book for anyone who’s ever lost a pet, who loves their cat, or who has a fondness for the spirits who’ve got our back. (Fun fact: Atteberry is also the creator of Clippy, the Microsoft paperclip!)

The cover of Ghost Cat. A boy on a cool-coloured background looks over his shoulder as a ghostly cat runs away.

Books About Animals

Next, I’ll write a little bit about some of my favourite recent books about animals – which are, let’s be clear, some of my favourite books in general. Some are a little more literal, like Little Brown, by Marla Frazee. This is just a book about a cranky dog. It’s just about being cranky, and being a dog. I found it utterly relatable and it felt really real to me. Not all dogs are Dug… you know? And sometimes, we all struggle to know how to fit in.

The cover of Little Brown, which just shows a small brown dog, frowning, a lot.

There’s something that feels like a hug when I’m reading All the Animals Where I Live, by Philip C. Stead. It feels like memories of my grandmother, and of places that are serene, and times that feel simple, and quiet. It’s just… lovely. I honestly don’t know if I would have appreciated this book as a child, but as an adult, it’s perfectly soothing.

The cover of All the Animals where I live, which depicts a red house in the background, a shaggy dog, and in the foreground, a tree branch, with green leaves.

Another book that is categorized as children’s literature, but that I wouldn’t necessarily handsell that way, is Australian author Shaun Tan’s heartbreaking, anti-capitalist picture book, Cicada. Nothing is particularly soothing about this book. It made my whole self ache for the little insect protagonist. I was simply relieved that the story has a positive ending. This book is unique, and heartfelt, and it feels like a grown up child’s tale for neoliberal times.

The cover of Cicada depicts a cicada in a business suit, holding a sheet of paper, standing on a gray backdrop, with similar sheets of paper all over the floor.

I recommend Moon, by Alison Oliver, as a lighter compliment to Cicada. This book is a heartwarming friendship tale of a young, feminine character named Moon (who is not explicitly racialized in the book) and a grey wolf. The relationship between the wolf and Moon teaches the overburdened child how to be free. I have recommended this book often, not only because I think it’s a lesson that bears repeating, but also because the colours and artwork in this book are a treat. I also appreciate that this story challenges the typical kidlit notion of a wolf as an inherently villainous animal.

The cover of Moon, which shows a young feminine character with purple skin, wearing a white dress, sitting cross legged in the grass, wearing a flower crown. She sits beside a serene gray wolf. Both have their eyes closed.

Lastly, this counting book is a complex narrative in disguise. Pretty Kitty, by Karen Beaumont and illustrated by Stephanie Laberis, is the story of a reluctant older man who has to confront an ever-growing group of felines in need of homes. This is a must-read for anyone who’s had a cat arrive in their life unexpectedly, but if you follow the silent storytelling in the illustrations, this book also tells the story of a man coming to terms with the loss of an old friend and learning to open his heart.

The cover of Pretty Kitty, which has a purple cityscape in the background and yellow text. An older man walks across the cover, and many cats are scattered across the letters.

Books With Whimsical Nature Themes

I didn’t choose as many literal nature-themed books as I did animal-themed books, although clearly All the Animals Where I Live and Moon have a lot of nature running through them. Most of my nature recommendations are picture books that are less story and more science, and for someone who had an appreciation for mysticism, I decided to go with a little more whimsy on the nature front.

Ocean Meets Sky is by Terry and Eric Fan, known as the Fan Brothers, who are probably best known for their titles The Night Gardener and The Darkest Dark. The Fan Brothers were educated in Toronto, where I live, and I’m always happy to give recommendations with a connection to my locale. Ocean Meets Sky is my favourite of all their books, and it regularly brings me to tears.

The cover of Ocean Meets Sky, by the Fan Brothers. In the centre of a large compass rose, there is a blue whale, surrounded by ships and hot air balloons that float on seas of clouds.

Ocean Meets Sky has exquisite illustrations, depicting the place where the ocean meets the sky. These include lush depictions of ships and sea creatures, clouds, and ocean waves. The narrative is about a child coming to terms with the loss of his grandfather, and finding ways to honour him through his reimagining of stories that they used to share.

Cover of Dream Friends, by You Byun. The image is of an orange sky over green water with flowers made of bubbles growing out of it. A young girl rides the back of a large white mammal wearing a red bowtie who soars through the sky.

Dream Friends is the debut picture book by Korean-American author and artist You Byoun. It is a soft, appropriately dreamlike story, depicting the dreams of a young girl named Melody, who is learning to make friends. The unique world that this book creates for the reader is reminiscent of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds for me, in that it combines down-the-rabbit-hole fantasy with sharp, vivid imagery.

I have long been an admirer of Jillian Tamaki’s work, and since she lives in the same neighbourhood as my bookshop, I’ve also had the pleasure of meeting her and being involved in events with her. I love her graphic novel This One Summer, which she co-created with her cousin, Mariko Tamaki, who recently announced the launch of her own graphic novel imprint for LGBTQ creators under Abrams Kids. Tamaki is mixed-race Canadian, with Japanese heritage.

The cover of They Say Blue, which shows a young child reaching into a blue background, where black birds fly.

I was excited when we received They Say Blue at the shop, but I was also lucky to be the bookseller for the FOLD that year, where Tamaki read her book at a children’s event. She is a lovely reader, and she brought the simple story that revolves around the passing of the seasons and the colours that come with them to life for me. As such, I would recommend reading this one aloud, if you can.

Navigating Difficult Emotions

There are so many beautiful picture books about dealing with difficult emotions these days. At Another Story, we actually have an entire section of the store dedicated to children’s books about feelings – and as a person who has a lot of them, it should perhaps come as no surprise that it’s my favourite kidlit section. When I was considering recommendations for books about sadness, many came to mind, but the first one I thought of was Wolf Erlbruch’s Duck, Death, and the Tulip.

The cover of Duck, Death, and the Tulip is just a simple drawing of a duck looking skyward, on a beige background.

This book is at once haunting and serene. It is a simple story of the death of a duck, and has essentially two characters: the duck, and death. It’s gentle, and slow, and doesn’t shy away from a difficult subject. It’s heart wrenching in its way, and I’m very fond of it.

A similarly heart wrenching book is guojing’s The Only Child. This was Chinese artist guojing’s debut title, and is a wordless picture book. There is nothing that I can say that will do guojing’s evocative artwork justice. The Only Child is based on guojing’s own childhood experiences, growing up under the single child law in Shanxi Province, China.

The cover of The Only Child shows a small child curled up against a large, furry animal, with tall horns.

It is difficult to classify The Forest, by Riccardo Bozzi, illustrated by Violeta Lopiz, and Valerio Vidali. It is part contemplative picture book, part exquisite art book. Written originally in Italian, the text was translated by Debbie Bibo. This book depicts, through vibrant images, embossing and debossing, and die-cut pages, a journey through the wilderness, but also man’s journey through life. This book is a treasure to hold in your hands.

The cover of The Forest, which has no text. From the Kirkus review of this title: The book’s design is clever, instantly arousing curiosity with its translucent jacket (sans title) overlaying brilliantly hued vegetation onto a muted cover.

My next three choices are about how particular characters deal with specific, onerous emotions, and in these books, the emotions themselves are made tangible. In two of these books, When Sadness is At Your Door, by Eva Eland, and Me and My Fear, by Francesca Sanna, the emotions are anthropomorphic characters in the book. Julie Kraulis, on the other hand, turns difficult emotions into literal baggage to be managed in Whimsy’s Heavy Things – another pick from an author who is in my Toronto local.

A collage of three book covers. In Whimsy's Heavy Things, a blonde character wearing a striped dress pulls a wagon full of black lumps up a hill. In When Sadness Is At Your Door, a character wearing a red coat and galoshes points at a large, round, light blue figure whose head is hanging. In Me and My Fear, a character with long blue hair is being cradled by a large white character who smiles as they sleep. A village of houses sits upon their back.

All of these tender stories offer practical strategies for navigating tricky emotional waters. Kraulis’ Whimsy learns (through failure) to break down her problems into manageable blocks, Eland’s simple illustrations advise welcoming sadness as one might a guest, and in Sanna’s story, a young girl has to learn to relate to unfamiliar people, after moving to a new place and a new school. Although these stories have young protagonists, all of these stories are emotions that will be familiar to any reader, and it never hurts to have gentle insight into how one might move through them.

The cover of Jerome By Heart, which depicts two boys bicycling down the street side by side, holding hands.

Translated from the French, Thomas Scotto’s Jerome by Heart is a uniquely touching book about a child who’s learning about his emerging queerness. This book is illustrated by Olivier Tallec, and translated by Claudia Zoe Bedrick and Karin Snelson. It’s so interesting to me that the pub copy for this book doesn’t explicitly recognize the character as gay, since this is one of the most quintessentially LGBTQ2S+ stories I’ve ever encountered. It’s simple, it’s sweet, and it’s full of age-appropriate adoration that will absolutely tug your heartstrings.

My last recommendation in terms of books about managing difficult feelings is a little bit easier to digest. There are a bunch of different versions of The Color Monster, by Spanish author Anna Llenas. My favourite, particularly for adults, is the pop-up book version. I have Big Feelings, and I love spooky creatures like monsters, so I find this book relatable and charming. Accompanied by intricate pop-ups, this lighthearted book is a great choice for anyone who’s going through a particularly emotional time in their life.

This video is a reading of the Color Monster pop up book, in which you get a taste of the three-dimensional details in the artwork.

General Picks

Finally, I wanted to suggest a couple of general picture book favourites of mine, in the same vein as Not Quite Narwhal, since the person I was writing recommendations for had already requested that title from the library. The first is Little Robot. Ben Hatke is one of my go-to children’s authors. Little Robot is a short, wordless graphic novel that he wrote and illustrated for children, about a main character of colour, who is never gendered, who makes friends with a small robot in a junkyard. The robot is confused, and needs a little help from the MC as he navigates the world beyond the robot factory.

The cover of Little Robot, by Ben Hatke. A young person of colour and a small robot sit on a grassy ledge overlooking a junkyard. A black cat climbs on discarded tires, and an angry eye peers up from the trash.

Peripherally, Hatke’s family recently suffered the tragic loss of their four year old child, Ida, after a sudden accident. There is a fundraiser that is ongoing for the Hatke family.

The last book I wanted to recommend is a must-read for any animal-loving bookworm with a deep sense of imagination. Franklyn’s Flying Bookshop is a deeply relatable tale by Jen Campbell, and illustrated by Katie Harnett.

The cover of Franklyn's Flying Bookshop, which shows a dragon silhouetted against the full moon. A young redheaded feminine character sits with the dragon, reading a book with them.

This book is the first in a series of books, which includes Franklyn and Luna Go to the Moon, and the forthcoming Franklyn and Luna and the Book of Fairy Tales. I realize that I didn’t give any space-themed recommendations in this list, although that was among the interests that I was taking into account when I made this list. Unfortunately, space isn’t a big one of my interests, although there are so many picture books about space. For that reason, I hope that Franklyn and Luna Go to the Moon might be a good lateral move from this book!

In Franklyn’s Flying Bookshop, Franklyn is a lonely, bookworm dragon, who’s struggling to make friends, who meets Luna, an isolated bookworm herself. They bond, and then decide to build a bookshop on Franklyn’s back in order to share their love of books with others. As a (somewhat isolated) bookseller myself, I found Luna to be one of the characters who is most relatable to me in any picture book I’ve encountered, and I imagine that this would be the case for many bookish folks (although, unfortunately, Luna appears to be a white character).

Can’t Lit Fall Previews

Currently Reading: Your House Will Pay, by Steph Cha

Not to throw shade (except kind of really to throw a little shade…), but there is one Canadian book that has been getting some serious buzz this fall. And guess what? I don’t think it’s the most exciting CanLit that’s being released this season! Not even close. Let me tell you about what I DO think is the most exciting CanLit being released this season…

Empire of Wild, by Cherie Dimaline

The cover of Empire of Wild: A Novel, by Cherie Dimaline. The cover also notes that the author is the same as the #1 Bestseller The Marrow Thieves. The image is a mostly desaturated image of a green armchair sitting in the middle of a forest clearing.

I work at Another Story, an indie bookshop in Toronto’s west end. The year that I began working there was the year that Cherie Dimaline’s YA Indigenous speculative fiction novel The Marrow Thieves took the world by storm. When I chewed through it in one sitting, the cover was fresh and bare. Now, the cover is littered with medallions representing the awards that this title has won since its released, so much so that they nearly obscure the art. By the time the winter holiday shopping season rolled around, we were literally having cartons of this title delivered by hand from our distributors at the last minute to keep up with customer demand.

I was working at the Festival of Literary Diversity (FOLD) in Brampton in 2018 when I learned that Dimaline had secured contracts for four more books after the success of the Marrow Thieves, and on September 17th, the first of those will be available to the public. Empire of Wild is, like Dimaline’s last book, an Indigenous speculative fiction title, this time written for a mature audience. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on an ARC of this book.

I wasn’t disappointed. Much like when I read the Marrow Thieves, it took me a few chapters to really get into the pacing. As a settler reader, I sometimes find myself challenged by this aspect of Indigenous storytelling, but the more Indigenous lit I spend time with, the more that I am growing accustomed. Taking the time to get into the rhythm of brilliant books is always well worth it.

In Empire of Wild, Dimaline skillfully weaves her Métis heritage into a politicized, suspenseful narrative that centres around a woman’s search for a missing partner, the damage that Big Oil does in Indigenous communities, and the rougarou – a Métis mythical creature that calls to mind an anthropomorphic, demonic wolf.

CWs for this book include murder, other violence, possible abduction/abandonment by a family member, extreme right religious content, and substance use. It is an adult title, and it doesn’t pretend to be for a YA audience. I would definitely recommend this book. Is there any more enjoyable way to learn about social justice issues than through delicious, #OwnVoices storytelling?

If you are a settler and pick up Dimaline’s work, and then want to learn more about Indigenous issues, there are some great resources and books that can be read as follow up – including Billy-Ray Belcourt’s fall release, NDN Coping Mechanisms, which I recommend later in this post.

Other resources I would recommend are the final report of the national inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls, and the content produced by Idle No More. Some non-fiction titles that would be fantastic follow up include 21 Things You May Not Know About the Indian Act, by Bob Joseph, Seven Fallen Feathers, by Tanya Talaga, Heart Berries, by Therese Marie Mailhot, and A Mind Spread Out on the Ground, by Alicia Elliott. Last but not least, if you can’t get enough Indigenous speculative fiction, I can’t recommend Jonny Appleseed enough, by Two-Spirit author Joshua Whitehead.

I Hope We Choose Love, by Kai Cheng Thom

The cover of I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl's Notes from the End of the World, by Kai Cheng Thom. A red flower with a yellow and red centre on a black background, with white lettering.

Kai Cheng Thom is one of the only authors whose work I savour. From her insightful articles and essays to her picture books, Thom’s writing is some of my favourite. She has an advice column in Xtra, and her recent essay on the legacy of trauma within queer communities has been resonating with lots of folks online. From the Stars in the Sky to the Fish in the Sea is one of my all-time favourite, gender-affirming picture books to read with children and adults alike, and Thom’s artwork is sumptuous and vibrant.

I’ve read, re-read, and been repeatedly brought to tears by her poetry collection a place called NO HOMELAND, but I’ve actually held off on reading her fictionalized memoir, Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars, which got some buzz recently since it was Emma Thompson’s Shared Shelf pick in March of 2019. I couldn’t bring myself to read it, because Thom didn’t have any other books, and I didn’t want to have read everything she’d published! I was so excited when I heard that Thom had a new project in the works, and now the wait is almost over, since her new collection of non-fiction essays, I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl’s Notes from the End of the World, will hit shelves on September 24th.

Heartwrenchingly, I find myself hesitant about this new collection. It is beautiful, and brilliantly written. It is thought provoking, and that Thom brings a perceptive, and well-informed analytical lens to the issues that marginalized people face surviving the current political climate together. I would never hesitate to recommend any of Thom’s work (this collection included) to another reader, but I wondered even reading the title if perhaps our paradigms had diverged too far in recent times for me to find Thom’s newest work meaningful for me personally in the same way that I had her previous publications. Am I too cynical? Am I too white? Am I too hopeless? Am I too immature? Am I too angry?

I saw red flags that led me to believe this book was not for me. In the first chapter, Thom referenced works that make me deeply uncomfortable, for example, Sarah Schulman’s Conflict is Not Abuse, which is a deeply problematic work that can be used to gaslight victims of harassment. Thom also criticized “call out culture” or “cancel culture”, when I am of the opinion that if cancel culture’s existence isn’t a myth entirely, people often use this rhetoric when what they really mean is “consequences.” Yet, when Thom outlined her political views, I found nothing objectionable, and so I decided to proceed with caution.

Whatever it is about me and my social location, or about this political moment, I struggled with this collection. The format alternates between essays and poetry, and while much of the poetry reached me in a way that felt reminiscent of NO HOMELAND, the essays did not. They’re accessible and well-articulated, and I was often right there with Thom, until about three quarters of the way through. At some point in each of the essays, I found myself taking pause.

There was a conversation on Twitter recently about how instead of describing the written work of a marginalized person as “important” or “urgent”, we should be approaching these works as requiring “urgent listening.” I hold Kai Cheng Thom in great esteem, and while the conclusions drawn in this book are difficult for me to agree with, it is a book that I think warrants urgent listening, and probably for me, revisiting. I would definitely recommend it to fans of books like Emergent Strategy, by adrienne maree brown, and it may just become my alternate recommendation when folks come into my shop for Conflict is Not Abuse. In the meantime, me and my rage are looking forward to savouring Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars in the not-too-distant future.

NDN Coping Mechanisms, by Billy-Ray Belcourt

The cover of NSN Coping Mechanisms: Notes from the Field, by Billy-Ray Belcourt. The cover notes that the author is the winnter of the Griffin Poetry Prize. The image is a person with long, dark hair, wearing a black shirt, set against a backdrop of dry, tall grass or wheat, and a pale, clear blue sky. The person has their hands folded as if in prayer in front of them, and the hands are bound together with white fabric. They are holding a piece of wood that looks like a dried, dead tree, with a hole positioned over one of the person's eyes. The wood obscures the rest of the face.

I was honoured to be able to attend the Toronto launch of this book as one of the staff of Another Story, who are the book vendors for the literary events held at the Art Gallery of Ontario. As Belcourt himself noted during his talk, the event was very well-attended, and I spent the majority of my time behind the bookselling table admiring the spectacular beadwork and other Indigenous jewellery that so many of the people in the diverse crowd seemed to be wearing.

In my doctoral studies, I cite Belcourt’s work on animality in decolonial thought constantly these days. He is one of few Indigenous scholars based in colonial Canada who has written academic work in this area, and since I study working animals using an anti-racist and decolonial lens, his work has been invaluable to me. Because I had yet to read Belcourt’s Griffin-award-winning poetry collection This Wound is a World, I was intrigued by this new work consisting of both scholarly theorizing, as well as poetry.

The event, like the book (title pronounced N-D-N Coping Mechanisms), was varied in both tone and intellectual register. The book is a gripping commentary on the paradoxical horror and beauty of Indigenous queer life in colonial Canada. Belcourt noted that the book had already made the CBC Books Bestseller List for its first week out – but had, strangely, been placed in the fiction category.

Belcourt was joined at the AGO by fellow Indigenous author and scholar, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson, who asked questions ranging from how Belcourt conceptualized success and envisioned his responsibility to future Indigenous queer authors, to probing for details about the men that Belcourt writes about in his new book. Belcourt himself joked about being born in the 90’s and thus having too short an attention span to write a novel, and also mused about who the anthropological object of his creative work was. I simultaneously enjoyed the evening, and felt (appropriately) like a complete outsider. At times, the conversation was theoretically challenging for me to keep up with – and I say that as a fifth year PhD student. I was both awed, and at times, a little lost. Both Belcourt’s and Simpson’s readings of excerpts from the book made me shiver.

There were a few moments in the evening that were particularly poignant for me. When asked why he writes, Belcourt responded, “I don’t know how else I would deal with all this shit.” As someone who has been eyeball-deep in affective scholarly work for the better part of my adult life, this was deeply relatable to me. In some ways, NDN Coping Mechanisms appeals to me as a work precisely because of this. I am interested and often validated when I have the opportunity to read about the experiences of other marginalized people who have found creative ways to cope with the state of the world, or who cope through content production.

I was also charmed and impressed when Simpson inquired whether Belcourt suffered from imposter syndrome, and he replied, “Maybe it’s just my generation’s thing of being like, I know I’m amazing!” The audience laughed, and Belcourt paused before continuing, “I know what I bring to the table.” As a bookseller and a member of the literary community, if I could have one wish for all Indigenous people, it would be that they all feel this kind of confidence in their work. Indigenous literature is certainly having a cultural moment right now, one that I hope will have a lasting effect on the literary scene in our colonial nation state, and I hope that Indigenous creators can all be aware of just how much they bring to the table.

Lastly, and to make reference back to some of my complicated feelings about Thom’s I Hope We Choose Love, Simpson mentioned during the launch that some of Belcourt’s lines of poetry would stay with her forever, and I think that the one that she mentioned is a good place to end this recommendation of Belcourt’s NDN Coping Mechanisms, which is available for purchase now. He wrote, “Revenge is more decolonial than justice,” something which feels equitable and firey and powerful to me. Simpson therefore asked herself, and Belcourt, and I think that it is a good question for everyone in the Canadian literary community to consider: what does revenge look like in CanLit?

Other Fall Books That Just Can’t Lit

…and if two books won’t be enough to stock up your TBR this fall, there are lots of other Canadian releases you should know about, for readers of all ages. These are some of the ones that I would recommend:

  • One Drum, by Richard Wagamese, October 19th
    Political non-fiction, Indigenous author.
  • On Fire, by Naomi Klein, September 17th
    Political non-fiction.
  • From Where I Stand, by Jody Wilson-Raybould, September 20th
    Political non-fiction, Indigenous author.
  • Breaking the Ocean, by Annahid Dashtgard, available now
    Memoir, Iranian-Canadian author.
  • Pickles vs the Zombies, by Angela Misri, September 21st
    Middle grade dystopian.
  • Angry Queer Somali Boy, by Mohamed Abdulkarim Ali, available now
    LGBTQ2S+ memoir, POC author.
  • Hustling Verse, various authors, available now
    Poetry, authors are sex workers.
  • African Canadian Leadership, various authors, available now.
    Political non-fiction, POC authors.
  • I Promise, by Catherine Hernandez and Syrus Marcus Ware, available now
    Picture book, LGBTQ2S+, POC authors.
  • Blanket Toss Under the Midnight Sun, by Paul Seesequasis, October 22nd
    Photography, Indigenous artist.
  • We Three, by Markus Harwood-Jones, available now
    YA with polyamory and LGBTQ2S+ representation.
  • In My Own Moccasins, by Helen Knott, available now
    Memoir, Indigenous woman author.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my dogs, and pursuing completion of my education in social work.

Affirming Middle Grade Gems for Spring 2019

Currently reading: Ninefox Gambit, by Yoon Ha Lee

Note: the links found on this page are affiliate links for Amazon.com, so if you use them to make purchases, you will be helping to support my work. If you are in Canada, please use this Amazon Canada Affiliate link, and then search for the book you’re seeking. You can also always leave a tip for me through ko-fi!

Trans Book News

At the end of 2018, I sent some feedback to the hosts of my favourite podcast, Book Riot, that I thought they should have included more content about LGBTQ+ (and specifically trans and enby) people, content, and issues in their last couple of episodes of the year. Well, it appears that they listened. In their latest episode, they discuss some relevant bookish news stories that specifically focus on censorship of trans content in libraries, and opposition to drag queen storytime, both in the US. Take a listen here.

I’m really excited about this one: a new picture book about gender by enby illustrator Noah Grigni (and written by Theresa Thorn) is coming out this May. It looks like a beautiful book. If you’re in Canada, you can pre-order it here, and in the US, pre-order it here. Pre-orders support authors so much, and if you use these affiliate links to order, you’ll be supporting my work, too.

Last week, Ceillie Simkiss posted an important review of a forthcoming YA novel featuring a trans character, which is written by a cis author and riddled with problematic content. It’s not recommended for trans readers. Read the full review here.

Good news for trans representation in books and non-binary authors this week! Jessica Love’s Julián is a Mermaid, which I featured in my 2018 Trans-Affirming Picture Book Wrap Up, was a recipient of the Stonewall Book Award at ALA Midwinter! Another recipient was Kheryn Callender’s Hurricane Child, which – spoiler alert! – I will be discussing next week, as part of my Black (History? Future? Present?) Month post. See the full 2019 Rainbow List here.

The Moon Within

A selfie of me, with green hair, looking sleepy, and holding an ARC of The Moon Within, by Aida Salazar.

See the suspiciously sleepy-looking eyes in that photo? Yeah. It’s because it was after midnight, because once I picked this book up, I couldn’t put it down. No one is more surprised than me, and I’m thrilled to admit it.

I actually wound up with two hardcopy ARCs of Aida Salazar’s The Moon Within from the shop where I work. Perhaps because the rest of the staff saw it and had the same reaction I did: this is a middle grade, novel-in-verse. See me: skeptical. Yet, coming of age stories are usually among my favourites, and this one is by a Latinx author and features a mixed-race MC with a genderfluid best friend. I decided to give it a chance.

But let’s be totally transparent. I picked it up on the night that I did because I’d been in a bit of a reading slump, and I thought, this book is short, and I’m probably not going to like it anyway. Might as well. I ended up so glad that I did. This is me, with the humble pie over here.

This coming-of-age story is a charming exploration of many tensions that will resonate for readers: reclaiming Indigenous culture in contemporary America, navigating early love, and overcoming challenges in deep friendships. This book is entirely age-appropriate as a middle grade novel, with writing that remains poetic and descriptive. This story spans a relatively long period of time, enabled by the verse format, which avoids the passage of time and depth of emotion feeling cumbersome to the reader. Spanish language is woven into the text of this novel, at times with and at times without translation and explanation, and I expect that this will enrich the cultural experience of this text for Latinx and other Spanish-speaking readers.

The only aspect of this book that I found challenging as an AFAB trans enby was the focus on menstruation as a theme in the text. While I imagine that it would be empowering for girls and women, this was at times a struggle for me to navigate, because of the troubled relationship I have with my own body and its hormonal cycles. I did appreciate that the text touched on this tension as well, with reference to the AFAB genderfluid character in the book, but (my biased perspective is that) I thought that it could have been more thoroughly probed.

I’m thrilled to be able to recommend this book, which drops on February 26th, but can be pre-ordered now. Give this one to your kids. Point your teacher friends toward it. Send it in the mail to your enby friends in Oakland, like I’m going to do. It’s a gem. You won’t want to miss it.

Little Apocalypse

The cover of Little Apocalypse, by Katherine Sparrow.

Note: I received an eARC of Little Apocalypse through Edelweiss+.

I requested an ARC of Katherine Sparrow’s Little Apocalypse out of personal interest, because I love a good spooky story, even if it doesn’t have explicitly LGBTQ+ content. It was appealing in part because comped to Ellen Oh’s Spirit Hunters, which I read in 2018, and loved. Much like when I read The Moon Within, I picked it up because it was a middle grade book, and I’d been battling a cold, so that’s about where my executive function level felt comfortable at the time. But again like when I read The Moon Within… once I picked this up, I had trouble putting it down.

Maybe it’s about time that I checked my own prejudices about MG books, because despite being written for a young audience (I know, I know), the world-building in Little Apocalypse was rich and deep. I probably would have anticipated that had I been familiar with Sparrow before picking up this book – although this is her MG debut, she’s hardly a novice writer. Sparrow has four previously-published adult novels in a series called the Fay Morgan Chronicles, and one of her short stories, The Migratory Patterns of Dancers, was nominated for a Nebula award.

This is a monster-fighting book with a Strong Feminine Protagonist that is perfect Buffy or X-Files fans (or future fans of Buffy, or maybe Buffy herself). If you’re buying this one for a kid, and they enjoy superhero stories, it’s a great step up from something like Buffy: New School Nightmare, the Desmond Cole series, or the Goosebumps books. Parents will love about this book that although there aren’t a lot of responsible adult figures around while the plot is unfolding (surprise!), the main character’s love for her family is clear and abiding throughout the book, even as she truly comes into her own as the protagonist.

My favourite things about this book are that, 1, it was written for book lovers. It has a bookworm MC, features a library in one of its settings, and even some of the most dramatic apocalyptic imagery was book-evocative. 2, it’s a friendship book. There are little hints at romance in places in this novel, but ultimately, it is all in on nuanced, complicated, platonic relationships. 3, the monsters are awesome. 4, the author does not shy away from moral ambiguity in this book, and I love the depth and complexity of that gray area.

But ultimately, (spoiler alert) one of the things that I love about this book is that in the end, the main character undergoes a pretty significant physical and emotional transformation. Although it’s dramatic and complicated, she and her parents work through it together, and they wind up having a happy, loving life, all together. The book doesn’t gloss this over, but the happy ending was heartwarming. It was this part of the book that I felt would be really affirming to any kid, but especially to kids dealing with transition or coming out to their caregivers. (end spoilers)

I would recommend this book to anyone over the age of 9 or so (only because any younger, and I feel like it might be edging on nightmare territory), including adults. Little Apocalypse is available for pre-order now, and will be released on March 19th, 2019.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my dogs, and pursuing completion of my education in social work.

2018 Trans Affirming Picture Book Wrap Up

Currently reading: The Wicked and the Divine vol. 2: The Fandemonium, by Kieron Gillen
Image is part of an illustration, showing a black child wearing a headdress made of ferns and a town tied around their waist, with a hand in the air, smiling.
From Julián is a Mermaid.

Working in the book shop, I constantly encounter customers who are surprised at the range of books available that include LGBTQ+ content, especially for children. I am always pleased to tell them that there are more and more coming out every year – especially because I love picture books, and have a growing collection myself. That said, it can still be hard to find the books that are affirming for trans and enby children, if you don’t have access to a brick and mortar shop that can identify them. The following are my picks for gender-affirming books for children published in the last year. Please, if I’ve missed any here, visit my contact page, and let me know!

Picture Books Published in 2018

Julián Is a Mermaid, by Jessica Love, appeared on lots of best-of lists for 2018. This affirming book is Love’s debut, about a young Afro-Latinx boy who experiments with dressing up as a mermaid in his abuela’s house. In the conclusion, they attend and join in the mermaid parade, an annual event at Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York. The lush watercolour illustrations and positive representation of non-white characters is what make this book stand out for me. Love says that this book was in part inspired by a trans family member of a boyfriend she had while writing the book.

Neither, by Airlie Anderson, is a colourful fever dream of a picture book suitable for the youngest audiences. It features a cast of misfit creatures who learn that they can reject binary identities and find happiness and friendship along the way. This book features a lot of rainbows, which is great for Pride season, and is perfect as an affirming springtime gift, as the main characters are reminiscent of the Peeps marshmallows.

Image is an illustration of a rainbow of chimera animals, all holding each other, and looking happy. A speech balloon reads "exactly!" in rainbow letters.
From Neither.

Jamie is Jamie: A Book About Being Yourself and Playing Your Way, by Afsaneh Moradian, challenges gender stereotypes through the story of a child who encounters confusion among their peers when they want to play with a wide variety of toys. The book includes a section for adults who are interested in using playtime as a learning tool for children to learn about gender and related constructs. This book is written by an author of colour, and illustrated by Maria Bogade, who has worked on award-winning projects such as the Gruffalo.

I am including Pride: The Story of Harvey Milk and the Rainbow Flag, by Rob Sanders because I wanted this list to be thorough, but this wouldn’t be my first recommendation. It’s an American-centric book that tells a whitewashed, gay male focused history of the rainbow flag. But also? Trans people are part of that rainbow, so. Make your own choices about this one. My alternate recommendation for this would be This Day in June, or M is for Mustache: A Pride ABC Book.

While Today I’ll Be a Unicorn, by Dana Simpson, does not feature openly trans characters, this book is trans affirming in that it is written and illustrated by a trans woman. Along with this book for young readers, Simpson also released Phoebe and Her Unicorn in Unicorn Theatre in 2018, the eighth and latest instalment in her wildly popular middle grade graphic novel series. The ninth book will be released in 2019.

Image is of a little girl putting on a headband with a unicorn horn, and a unicorn watching her. Text reads, "Today, I'll be a unicorn. I'll have a tail and a magic horn."
From Today I’ll Be a Unicorn.

There are lots of picture book options for people seeking stories about boys and other masculine characters openly defying gender norms and embracing traditionally feminine aspects. King Alice, by Matthew Cordell, tells the story of an imaginative young girl who invents a story in which she is a king.

Jack (Not Jackie), by Erica Silverman, explores the complicated emotions that a cis sibling might navigate upon discovering that their sibling is trans. It has been criticised by some trans readers as it uses the MC’s deadname and the wrong pronouns in the book. It has also been criticised for ciscentrism, and use of stereotypes about trans people. For all these reasons, it would not be my recommendation for a trans reader, but it could be a useful learning tool for a cis audience. I also give this book bonus points for being the only book, to my knowledge, featuring an explicitly transgender child.

Pink is for Boys, by Robb Pearlman, encourages readers to think of colours as being for people of all genders, and to move away from the pink/blue representation of the gender binary. This book features a diverse cast of characters, including racialized and disabled youth. For me, this book is a 101 level book, suitable in particular for children who may be learning about gender for the first time.

Last but not least is Love, Z, the newest offering from Jessie Sima. Sima is the author of several LGBTQ affirming and representative picture books, including Not Quite Narwhal and Harriet Gets Carried Away. In this latest book, Z, a young robot, searches for the meaning of “love”, and along the way encounters a charming cast of characters, including a feline boat captain. Although this book is not explicit in having trans subject matter, it does have meaningful queer representation, and the main character, Z, is never gendered in this story. (It’s perfect. What I’m saying is, it’s perfect.)

Two pages from Love, Z, in which the robot goes through his nightly bedtime routine, wondering "What is love?"
From Love, Z.

Other Trans-Affirming Books for Children Published in 2018

Aquicorn Cove, by Katie O’Neill, and The Prince and the Dressmaker, by Jen Wang, are middle grade graphic novels that were released this year. Both have affirming representation of non-cis characters, and The Prince and the Dressmaker was created by an author of colour. Both of these books make fantastic read-aloud stories for younger readers, as they both feature vibrant illustrations, and the former has valuable environmental messages as well.

Panels from Aquicorn Cove, in which one character gives another a necklace. The character asks, "Er, if I wanted to come back, without falling overboard this time...", and the second character responds, "Here, wear this into the water, and the Aquicorns will guide you to me."
From Aquicorn Cove.

A Quick and Easy Guide to They/Them Pronouns, by Archie Bonglovanni and Tristan Jimerson, is a short, charming, 101-level graphic primer for adults in the lives of non-binary children or other children choosing to use gender neutral pronouns.

When I read the Gender Identity Workbook for Kids, by Kelly Storck LCSW, I found myself wishing that I had had this book as a child. This is a great workbook for children in the early reader range who are exploring the ways in which they experience gender, and for the adults in their lives. I recommend this educational tool highly.

PS, if you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving me a tip! It only takes a minute, and it allows me to keep creating content just like this, buying food for my dogs, and pursuing completion of my education in social work.