My Year in Books

Posted on December 21, 2018 by andrew

For three (or so) years running, I’ve been sharing My Year in Books as organized and analyzed by Goodreads. It certainly does make it fun to look back on all the titles you’ve read and to realize it’s quite an achievement!

I actually nearly doubled my reading output in 2018. For the past two years, I finished thirteen books annually, and this year I read twenty-four (I might hit twenty-five if I find the time to finish a book on Hungarian history in the next week or so). That might be a slightly inflated improvement in that I did a lot of beta reading and awards program reading in previous years, and I usually didn’t log those titles in. But here’s my positive take-away: I got a lot more reading done on my commute back and forth to work, which can be one to two hours total each day, by spending less time with games and social media on my phone.

Another thing that probably helped was I took on writing reviews this year for the New York Journal of Books and Out in Print, in addition to occasional reviews for Queer Sci Fi. In total, I read eight titles for the purpose of reviews, which is definitely the most I’ve ever done in a year.

A lot of those were recommendable, and I’d say my favorite discovery was K.D. Edwards The Last Sun. It’s kind of an alternative history/urban fantasy that takes inspiration from Atlantean mythology, along with a ton of paranormal horror conventions–vampires, zombies, witches, etc.. It’s a début novel from Edwards, and his action-writing and suspense-building craft is vacuum tight. I’ll definitely be following where he goes with the series. You can read my full review here.

I read pretty purposefully, and this year I was eating up popular, historical, and #OwnVoices gay fantasy to consider titles for my curated Intro to Gay Fantasy list. Thirteen of the twenty-four books I read fall into that research category, and I thought three of those titles were worthy of adding to the project: Lawrence Schimel’s fairytale inspired short story collection The Drag Queen of Elfland, Ricardo Pinto’s Stone Dance of the Chameleon trilogy, which begins with The Chosen, and Philip Ridley’s In The Eyes of Mr. Fury.

All three of those titles are remarkable and appealing for different reasons. If you like heart-warming, young adult-ish magical fantasy, In the Eyes of Mr. Fury is the book you should drop everything to read RIGHT NOW. If you like dark, complex, slow-burning epic fantasy with a gay hero who breaks the mold, get cracking with Ricardo Pinto’s trilogy. Well, if I could take just one book with me to a desert island, I’ll say I’d be in good company with Stone Dance of the Chameleon.

So that leaves just three books that fall in the category of “read for pleasure,” and you see my dillemma. I don’t have much reading time to pick up new books by authors I like or try something different that might be fun. I did read Gregory Maguire’s re-imagined story of the Nutcracker Hiddensee (and LOVED IT). And I did finally get to read Marguerite Yourcenar’s Memoirs of Hadrian, which had been on my TBR list forever. That was a little dry, but still a mind-blowing work of literature, written with such authority and an authentic voice you can’t believe it’s not source material.

I’ll end with some fun by answering the question: what’s the strangest book I read last year? I actually have two.

First, while researching gay fantasy novels written before the 1960s, I came upon William Beckford’s Vathek. It was first published in 1792. Though I’m afraid that’s the only intriguing thing about Beckford’s bizarre, overly-written and ultimately unreadable tribute to arcane magic and horror.

Then, I chose a re-printing of a “gay pulp classic” from the 1960s – Neil J. Weston’s Naked Launch 2. – to review for Out in Print since Riverdale Avenue Books recently launched an imprint to re-release a series of pulp titles. It’s just about the most absurdly adolescent take on gay pirates I can imagine, but the story ended up winning me over. There’s a lot of heart and hopefulness in-between the copious scenes of pirate debauchery.

So that’s my year in books! This will be my last post of 2018 so let me say Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, and Thank You Very Kindly for supporting my work.

On #OwnVoices in Gay Fantasy – A Look at Recent and New Data

Posted on May 18, 2018 by andrew

I recently received a comment on my 2016 report on the State of #OwnVoices in Gay Fantasy. Then, I saw a lot of Twitter chatter about #OwnVoices in response to Helene Dunbar’s upcoming YA title about a gay boy coming of age in the early years of the AIDS epidemic, of which she made the unfortunate claim that no such stories have ever been written before.

I HAVE NEWS!!!

So thrilled to be working on this book with @EditorALB & @SourcebooksFire! More about this 1983 NYC story about love & fear in the very early days of the AIDS crisis, here:https://t.co/FyK0NiNLPk

— Helene Dunbar (@Helene_Dunbar) May 8, 2018

Then, I saw an author sharing a list of #OwnVoices titles in adult fantasy to make the excellent point that the YA community has organized well to bring attention to diverse authors, but the adult fantasy world, not so much. (And sadly, to that point, I promptly lost the reference on my Twitter feed. Maybe the thread disappeared.)

All of that was enough to push me to revisit the topic and share some of my latest thoughts.

I won’t rehash all the data from my first look at #OwnVoices since you can read the (fairly) short article here. In brief, I looked at authorship of gay fantasy titles across three dimensions: popular books, recommended books, and award-nominated books. For popular books, I took data from two Listopia lists: Best Fantasy Books with Gay Main Characters, and Best Sci Fi Books with Gay Main Characters. For recommended books, I took data from the ALA’s Over the Rainbow Lists for Young Adults and for Adults. For award nominated books, I took data from the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards and the Lambda Literary awards (the Lammys) for Best SFF/Horror.

#OwnVoices titles ranged from zero to forty-four percent, and were more likely to be found in award-nominated and recommended lists. My analysis included data from the period of 2012 through 2016. I didn’t drill down on intersectionality, i.e. titles written by gay authors of color, though my guess would surely be the tiny slice of titles by those authors is quite troubling. I’m just a little wary about trying to quantify that with accuracy, and I don’t have the resources to survey authors. It’s become somewhat of a norm for gay authors to say they’re gay (or have a husband) in their bios, but not so much that they’re black or white or Asian, etc.

So now it’s a little over one year later. Has anything changed? Can we glean anything more by looking at other sources? These were my curiosities, so I took another look.

Goodreads’ Listopia lists are established by reader votes as well as the number of ratings and the average rating for each title. From my periodic perusal, they don’t change so dramatically from year-to-year. But to the extent new titles come out all the time and can shuffle things around a bit, I thought it was worthwhile to look at the same lists I analyzed back in 2016.

In 2016, the top 100 titles in Best Fantasy Books with Gay Main Characters included five #OwnVoices titles and four titles by authors whose sexual identity I could not determine. So, somewhere between five to nine percent were #OwnVoices.

My snapshot of the same list from a couple of days ago included eight #OwnVoices titles and one title by an author whose sexual identity I could not determine. As in 2016, none of those titles were in the top 10. Only one was in the top 40 actually (Jesse Hajicek’s The God Eaters). This shows a slight improvement, I guess. #OwnVoices are up to eight to nine percent of popular gay fantasy titles on Goodreads versus five to nine percent in 2016.

In 2016, the top 100 titles in Best Sci Fi Books with Gay Main Characters included twenty-two #OwnVoices titles and three undetermined titles. My more recent look: twelve #OwnVoices titles and seven I could not determine. That’s a drop from 22-25% to 12-19%. The results from that list are even more dismal when you consider some of the highest-ranked titles are popular sci fi books that don’t even have gay or bi lead characters, e.g. Frank Herbert’s Dune?

But, onward we go.

To expand my survey of popular titles, I bit the bullet and looked at an Amazon Best Seller list. I’d been skeptical about using that data source since gay fiction bestsellers on Amazon are notoriously strange, overrepresenting titles from their self-publishing platform, and heavily skewed toward erotica, regardless of the purported categorization.

Another problem is the ranking algorithm favors recent releases as it relies on predictive data. Many of us authors have experienced a new release popping up at the top of the charts because books get the most sales around release time. But Amazon treats that as a predictor of how many sales the title will get on an hourly basis, and typically over weeks, months, or years certainly, that once best-selling title takes a dramatic plunge in the charts based on actual buying behavior over time.

I’m still a bit skeptical about what the data tells us, but I thought it would be interesting to take a look at the titles and authors. So I pulled up one list, which is of course just a snapshot in time: Top 100 Best Sellers in LGBT Fantasy.

While there are a few L and T titles included, it definitely leans heavily toward stories with gay or bisexual male leads. I only considered those books when parsing out #OwnVoices titles.

I found eight #OwnVoices titles in the top 100. Twelve others appeared to be written by men, but I couldn’t determine if they were gay or bisexual.

A brief aside: This time around, I was slightly less assiduous in researching author sexual identity while also more conservative about counting an author as gay or bisexual. For one thing, when an author’s bio doesn’t say he’s “openly gay/bi,” it’s tedious work, combing through the media surrounding each author, looking for mentions of a husband or a coming out story. For another, the use of author pen names and fictional identities makes the research even tougher, and sometimes unreliable, with the stark possibility there are even fewer titles written by gay/bisexual male authors. (FYI, I had counted Santino Hassell’s books as #OwnVoices in my last report).

My conclusion, however questionably supported, is that Amazon best seller titles trend similarly to popular gay SFF on Goodreads: between 5-20% are #OwnVoices.

Next, taking a look at recommended lists.

ALA’s GLBT Roundtable had thirteen gay/bi male SFF titles on its Over the Rainbow List for Young Adults during the period of 2012-2016. Three of those were #OwnVoices. Their Over the Rainbow List for Adults had only seven gay/bi male SFF titles in the same time period and three were #OwnVoices. Overall, #Ownvoices made up a 30 percent share.

For 2017, the list for Young Adults included four gay/bi SFF titles. Two were by Rick Riordan. The other two were #Ownvoices. The Roundtable chose zero gay/bi SFF titles to include on its 2017 recommended list for adults. That list favors contemporary coming out stories, especially in underrepresented communities.

I tried to find another decent source to analyze recommended gay SFF titles, but it’s really the wild west out there on the interwebs. I mean, there are a lot of click-bait articles like “Seven must-read fantasy books with kick-ass queer heros/heroines,” but they’re so idiosyncratic and in some cases self-promoting, they don’t seem worth analyzing. If you’ve got an idea about where I should be looking, let me know.

Now for the major awards programs in queer SFF. Shockingly and disappointingly, Gaylactic continues to not be able to find a single #OwnVoices gay/bi male SFF title worthy of their consideration. I mean zero. They had zero from 2012-2015, and they had zero in their most recent (2016) awards program.

Lambda Literary Foundation does better. They had 44 percent #OwnVoices titles in their short lists for Best SFF/Horror 2012-2016. 2017 is a different story.

Now I should say, the number of Lammy SFF/Horror finalists for 2017 is small: eight titles; and it’s a mix of lesbian-themed, bisexual-themed, transgender-themed, non-binary themed, and gay-themed titles that all sound fascinating, worthy of recognition, and nicely representative of authors of color. Also, they favor titles with overlapping themes that explore gender in really interesting ways and in many cases include all kinds of variations of same-sex and poly and “queer” relationships (human/android for instance in Annalee Newitz’ Autonomous). They lean, of course, toward literary fiction versus genre fiction, and I’d say style/high concept versus action-adventure/plot-driven works.

So, my analysis was a little knottier, but based on four of the titles that feature a leading gay male oriented character (often along with other non-traditional gender constructions and lesbian characters) and based on only one of those titles being authored by a self-identified gay man, I’m saying 25% of their finalists are #OwnVoices.

This may be a good time to step back from the data and reconsider the question: why is #OwnVoices in gay SFF important? I mean, on one hand, you could say that queer representation in the genre has increased, such that readers can more easily find books by popular authors about queer people, some by household names. Rick Riordan is one example.

Furthermore, you could say SFF by definition is experimental and exploratory (speculative). SFF stories have stepped outside of gender/sexuality norms for decades, led by big name authors like Robert Heinlein, Ursula Le Guin and Samuel Delaney. Then, you could also say we’re happily beginning to see greater representation of non-binary, trans, poly, lesbian, queer people of color—all of which have been overlooked in SFF to a far greater extent than gay or bi male portrayals. Lambda’s choices of finalists may reflect an effort to elevate those stories and those voices, and I’d say it’s appropriate for white, gay, cis gender male authors, and our titles to step aside for the sake of cultural fairness. #OwnVoices is, after all, a movement to redress historical barriers to publication.

Related to that point, you could say, if you look at gay/bi male authorship more broadly in the fiction world, and specifically at white, cis gender, gay male authors, there’s evidence that we face less barriers to publication, recognition, and awards than other writers beneath the QuILTBAG umbrella. Take for instance this year’s Pulitzer Prize winner for fiction: Andrew Sean Green. Many of the most successful authors writing LGBT YA are white, gay, cis gender men as well: David Levithan and Bill Konigsberg, for example. Historically, white men have been privileged in the publishing industry and continue to be. White, gay, cis gender male authors benefit from that privilege, so redistributing power to female, lesbian, trans, and non-binary authors, especially those of color, is important from a social justice perspective.

For all those reasons, you could argue the #OwnVoices cause lacks relevance for gay, cis gender male titles, just as few would argue we need more hetero, cis gender male titles written by hetero, cis gender men in order to even the scales. And I do think that point-of-view is important to the discussion.

Though I also think something different has happened in queer SFF, and it’s unrelated to the publishing industry’s intentional elevation of underrepresented queer voices, which is slowly occurring in contemporary adult fiction and YA. If that were the case, we’d see a queer SFF landscape that includes a diverse range of queer authors: gay, transgender, lesbian, bi, black, Latinx, Asian, Native, etc., and while there’s some evidence of that via awards programs (and to a limited extent in ALA’s curated titles), the authorship of popular queer SFF titles, which are naturally in the broadest distribution, is not so inclusive, and has never favored gay/bi male authors, even as gay/bi characters are much more common than other queer portrayals.

Pre-1990s I’d say, with wonderful, notable exceptions like Samuel Delaney, gay/bi portayals predominantly came from best-selling, heterosexual male and female authors (Richard Heinlein, Ursula Le Guin, Marion Zimmer Bradley, among others), and that tradition is still a factor in whose gay/bi stories get published (Ian McDonald, C.S. Pascat, Cassandra Clare, as some more recent examples). In the late 90s and early 2000s, female-authored “M/M” romance/erotica emerged as an important market, with popular subgenres in romantic sci fi and fantasy, and nowadays M/M fantasy is the most prolific, sought-after category of queer SFF, which has implications for what kinds of titles get published, what kinds of authors get published, and even how we talk about queer literature.

It’s not just an issue for SFF. One recent example is LGBTQ advocates’ reaction to Helene Dunbar’s upcoming title.

Saw the great conversations earlier regarding own voices m/m YA and while there are certainly things I could say about that, right now I want to highlight some of the #ownvoices m/m YA that I’ve have edited (a non-exhaustive list!):

— Andy (aka Michael) (@cupcakeandy) May 9, 2018

Um, #OwnVoices M/M YA? I realize M/M has become shorthand for stories with gay male characters, but using that terminology in the #OwnVoices context is kind of absurdly problematic. M/M was created as homoeroticism “by and for women.” I’ll link in some references here:

“W4M4M?” a 2010 Out Magazine article, which humorously includes commentary by “Josh Lanyon, one of the M/M genres few male authors.”

“Is MM Romance Cultural Appropriation?” by Mary Grace, including the point: “[M/M romance] isn’t about gay men.”

What I fear many younger authors don’t understand is M/M was never intended to be a space for gay male authors to write about their own communities. And that before and after M/M existed, gay authors have been writing gay stories that some of us still call gay fiction, or gay romance, or gay fantasy, etc., because, well, they’re stories about gay people. The idea that gay authors need to be uplifted in the M/M fiction market, or need help ‘breaking into’ it, is a rather frightening statement on our positionality in the gay publishing industry.

All right. I’m going to very consciously set aside my personal feelings about M/M and focus instead on the story told by the data. Instead of looking at titles that are popular, win awards, and are otherwise recognized as merit-worthy, what about looking directly at the lists of titles coming out from publishers?

The biggest publishers of SFF, Tor and Gollanz for example, are unfortunately difficult to analyze because their output is so large, and at least as far as I’ve been able to determine, no one is quantifying the number of queer titles that get released on an annual basis. I spent some time on publisher websites, trying to use their search fields to call up titles with keywords like “gay” and “queer.” They’re not set up to generate the kind of information I’m looking for. For example, a search of “gay” at Tor’s webstore inexplicably brings up blog entries about “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” So, not so useful.

The main small presses that publish queer SFF have websites that are much more conducive to my purposes. You can browse titles by genre or ‘pairing,’ and see every title in their recent releases and backlist. So I looked at two of the biggest publishers of queer SFF in the small press world: Dreamspinner and Pride Publishing. There are others for sure, like Blind Eye Press, Bold Strokes Books, Less Than Three, and NineStar Press, but their collective output is dwarfed by those two big publishers with regard to SFF.

Dreamspinner published 100 gay SFF titles from October 5, 2016 – May 15, 2018, which is a pretty impressive output for a little over a year and a half period. Of those titles, I found fourteen which could be confirmed as authored by gay/bisexual male authors, and half of those were by two authors: Eric Arvin and T.J. Klune. I found four titles by authors who identified as male but whose sexuality I could not confirm. The upshot: 14-18 percent of Dreamspinner’s gay SFF titles were #OwnVoices.

Pride Publishing has a smaller output and tags their titles a little differently. I pulled up their last 100 gay fantasy/fairytales or gay sci fi titles, which covered the period of 2013-2018.

Just one author in that list appears to be male, and I could not determine that author’s sexuality. Thus, between zero and 1 percent of Pride Publishing’s gay SFF titles are #OwnVoices.

I think that data is a pretty good indicator that very few small press gay SFF titles are #OwnVoices. I didn’t take the time to analyze the content of the titles, but I’ll just say, unscientifically, based on the cover art, there is a preponderance of titles that are marketed as romance/erotica (M/M). But that would make for a good follow-up question to explore: how many gay SFF titles are first and foremost M/M romance versus SFF? Additionally: how many gay SFF titles feature characters of color and how many are written by gay/bi authors of color?

I’d love to come up with a way to analyze gay SFF in mainstream publishing, quantifying how many titles Tor and Gallanz and Penguin are putting out each year and take a look at authorship. Those publishers represent the harder, more epic, more adventure-driven edge of SFF, and it would great to say with some authority if #OwnVoices titles fare better or worse there. If anyone has any ideas that might be less tedious than analyzing their entire list of SFF titles, toss them my way!

I also think good information could be collected by doing a survey of gay/bisexual male authors as well as publishers of gay SFF. That would provide some data on racial diversity, who’s represented in publishing houses, and what concerns authors and publishers themselves have about #OwnVoices.

As a starting point, if you’re a gay/bisexual male author or a publisher of gay SFF, feel free to drop me a comment or an e-mail if you prefer.

2017 in Books

Posted on January 1, 2018 by andrew

I was inspired to write this post by Goodreads’ Your Year in Books feature, which is a really nice way of cataloging your reading, and is this the first year they did that for users? I hadn’t noticed it before. Though I am known to be unobservant at times!

Anyway, here’s my year as tricked out and analyzed by Goodreads. My less tricked out summary: I read thirteen books in 2017, which is strangely the exact same number I had for 2015 and 2016. So I’m pretty solidly a one book per month reader. I don’t know how I’d find time to do more than that without sacrificing my writing time.

This was probably my most purposeful year reading-wise. I wanted to read as many gay fantasy books as I could to expand my cred as somewhat of an authority in that genre. For a rather specific niche, there’s a huge universe of gay fantasy titles, but when you start digging into it, it’s kind of like nine out of ten are really romance, and really formulaic MM romance, where the story is about a relationship between two guys, with lots of titilating scenes, and the fantasy world and whatever quest the guys have to accomplish are much, much, much in the background.

Those kind of stories are not my scene, so the real challenge for me is finding gay fantasy titles that aren’t first and foremost romance and erotica. I get recs from Goodreads and Amazon and awards programs and LGBT sci fi/fantasy blogs, though it does take some additional research to try to gauge whether a title is going to be up my alley.

I didn’t read gay fantasy exclusively in 2017, so I’ll start with the non-fantasy titles.

I picked up Geoffrey Ryman’s Was because I thought it might be a bit like Gregory Maguire’s Wicked series (also based on The Wizard of Oz). Turned out: not so much. The story is reimagined and speculative for sure, but from the point-of-view of a realistic Dorothy Gale in late 19th century Kansas, as well as a young Judy Garland and an invented character who is a washed up actor, obsessed with The Wizard of Oz, and dying of AIDS. If all of that sounds depressing, you are right on the money! It’s a book with three, interwoven tragic stories, but I found it to be definitely worth the read. Ryman is an encyclopedia of knowledge about the history of Kansas, Judy Garland, and the filming of The Wizard of Oz. He’s an excellent writer, and the details about all three of those topics were engrossing. The characters — none of which could be described as likeable on the surface — have important stories to tell, and I love flawed heroes.

I also read Rahul Mehta’s realistic No Other World for personal reasons. It’s a coming of age story, set in upstate New York, in the 1980s, with a gay, Southeast Asian lead! Ding, ding, ding! You may not know this about me, but I’m really fond of Southeast and Near Eastern authors. Hanif Kureishi and Shyam Selvadurai are two of my very favorites. So, Mehta had big shoes to fill so to speak, and I ended up digging the book. Not a fan of the narrative structure (does every work of literary fiction have to play around with fractured storylines?), but overall, I thought it was quite a poignant and illuminating portrait of growing up with intersecting identities.

I had one oddball, esoteric title on my list: a translation of Petronius’ 1st century A.D. novel The Satyricon. From its description and the literary criticism I read about it, it looked like another ding, ding, ding! for me; really compulsory reading for any writer who espouses to have any gay fiction cred, or ancient world historical cred. And it’s described as high satire – the author’s irreverent answer to the treacly romance novels that were popular at the time. (Another disclosure: I have a book coming out that is a gay re-telling of Chariton’s 1st century A.D. Callirhoe, which I sped through while bursting with ideas for bringing the story into the 21st century).

For me, lightning did not strike twice. The Satyricon is a strange story, and it feels even strangely modern with its focus on a group of marginal, vagrant characters who drift from one illicit situation to the next, like drug addicts from the 1960s in a William Burroughs novel, or even a bit thematically like the work of Bret Easton Ellis, Jay McInerny and Joan Didion, a story of apathetic excess. That would seem to be perfect for me, but I just couldn’t get into the story. Similar to Callirhoe, and–from what I’ve read about the style of the era–most ancient Greek and Roman novels, there was very little development of the characters, and they didn’t hold my interest. I’m embarrassed to say I gave up on it less than halfway through.

Now, the gay fantasy titles I read in 2017…

Hands down, my favorite discovery was Daniel Heath Justice’s The Way of Thorn and Thunder. Epic fantasy inspired by Indigenous American folklore! Amazing stuff. I wrote a lot more about it on Goodreads which you can check out here.

Chaz Brenchley’s The Tower of the King’s Daughter was another happy find. I had to track it down through inter-library loan as it’s out of print. A punchy, high stakes adventure in a medieval, Crusades-like world. I liked it so much, I added it to my Intro to Gay Fantasy list.

I continued with Samuel Delaney’s Neveryona saga, whipping through Return to Neveryon and confirming that my literary life was nothing until I discovered Delaney.

And I read Steven Harper’s Iron Axe, two sci fi titles: Carol Holland March’s The Tyro and Hal Duncan’s Vellum, and a trio of books I wanted to read to see what all the hoopla was about: Jesse Hajicek’s The God Eaters, Mercedes Lackey’s Magic’s Pawn, and C.S. Pascat’s Captive Prince.

Plus one non-gay fantasy title. I had been wanting to read Guy Gavriel Kay for a while, and I dug in with Sailing to Sarantium this year.

I have a lot more gay fantasies on my TBR list, so I’m going to be staying with that genre in 2018. I’m always looking for epic fantasy and ancient world historicals with gay themes, so let me know about any books you think I should be reading!

An introduction to gay fantasy

Posted on November 1, 2017 by andrew

I’m often asked for fantasy recommendations, particularly on the gay fiction-side. That, combined with my love of the genre inspired me to tackle the project of putting together a list of titles as a departure point for readers looking for good quality portrayals of gay characters.

I could probably write an entire article on disclaimers about this list—the sea of titles to choose from, the subjective nature of singling out certain books, and the like. I actually kind of hate “best of” and “top ten” lists. They’re a bit disingenuous, so unnecessarily declarative, I think, and when I see them in magazines or blogs, I tend to be naturally cynical.

So, what should you take away from my little curated list? I guess just some ideas about what to check out if you’re new to gay fantasy, or even if you’re a huge fan and like comparing notes. I’m sure I missed some stellar books that aren’t on my radar. Feel free to let me know about those!

Disclaimer #2: These books are heavily skewed toward my reading (and writing) preferences, which are fantasy of the epic, historical, and/or magical sort, and more G than LBTQAI. I included one urban fantasy/superhero title and one magical realism. Those also happen to be the only young adult titles, and I only have one sci fi and one fairytale short story collection. Some of the titles have lesbian, bi, and trans characters. None represent Ace, Aro or Intersex. I called this “an intro to gay fantasy” because I don’t purport to have the literary cred to throw out recs across the queer spectrum, though I think there’s decent representation in terms of race/ethnicity.

Maybe I’ll work on updating the list for the future with more fantasy sub-genres. I really have to be in the right mood to read dystopian and futuristic sci fi. I make no promises.

Last, I thought it was important to include why I thought each title was noteworthy, beyond my subjective appraisal since if I was in fact teaching a course on gay fantasy, that kind of thing would be important. You’ll see that down below. I also should mention I was intentional in choosing a diverse range of titles in terms of when they were written, the types of characters, themes, as well as #OwnVoices.

In a nutshell, #OwnVoices is a movement to uplift titles about marginalized groups, which are written by members of those marginalized groups, in order to combat historic and ongoing barriers for marginalized authors. I’ve written more about #OwnVoices previously if you care to learn more, and/or, check out this handy Q&A written by #OwnVoices creator Corinne Duyvis.

And away we go!

[12/9/2017 E.T.A. Chaz Brenchley’s Tower of the King’s Daughter. 2/10/2018 E.T.A. Lawrence Schimel’s The Drag Queen of Elfland. 3/20/2018 E.T.A. Philip Ridley’s In the Eyes of Mr. Fury. 4/19/2018 E.T.A. Ricardo Pinto’s The Chosen. 9/11/2019 E.T.A. Tom Cardamone’s Green Thumb]

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin

Publisher: ACE

Year: 1969

Themes: Futuristic, science fiction, alien races, hermaphrodite/bisexuality, non-binary gender

Rationale for inclusion: Multi-awards: Hugo, Nebula; widely regarded as a groundbreaking and seminal work in SFF (see: reference); portrayal of bisexuality and reconstruction of gender

My quickie review: This won’t be the first or last rec list to begin with Ursula Le Guin. She was a prolific and critically-acclaimed author who brought feminist commentary on the construction of gender to the genre and opened doors for female authors. Of course, she’s also brilliant. The Left Hand of Darkness imagines an alien race that is neither male nor female, and undergoes a reproductive cycle (kemmer) during which they develop male/female genitalia temporarily and arbitrarily, resulting in many sexual combinations over the lifetime, including fairly universal pregnancy and ‘motherhood.’ That was a pretty wild and innovative concept for 1969, and though the story is seen through the eyes of a biologically male human Genly who is visiting this ‘ambisexual’ planet on a diplomatic mission (Genly also happens to be described as ‘dark-skinned’), the depth of development of the differently gendered world is extraordinary and engrossing. It is also a story that is interesting to look at in context. Le Guin has acknowledged that some of her own heterosexist bias crept in while imagining sexual preferences as well as ‘defaulting’ to an association between masculinity and authority/political power.

Tales of Neveryon by Samuel R. Delaney

Publisher: Bantam

Year: 1979

Themes: Ancient world, slavery/exploitation, gender roles, social justice, sexuality

Rationale for inclusion: Multi-award finalist: Locus, Prometheus, National Book Award; Groundbreaking for its time in terms of gay content; Critically acclaimed (see: Editorial reviews from Amazon page); #OwnVoices: Delaney is a black, gay man and the main characters of Neveryon are principally brown-skinned people, including a “gay” protagonist (see: reference)

My quickie review: Tales of Neveryon is a loosely-knit, rotating collection of narratives about people living in a pre-historic world that has hints of ancient Mesopotamia and Africa. My mind was blown when I discovered the book. It’s utterly immersive and brilliantly subversive. Hard to encapsulate the plot, but the principal character Gorgik is orphaned by war, fated to work in a mining settlement as a slave, and educated about the methods and immorality of the elite, ruling class when he is taken into an imperial court through chance circumstances. The scale of the world and its histories are epic, though it’s not precisely epic fantasy. Delaney plays the role of both philosopher and storyteller via parable-style vignettes that shed light on the human condition, from the inhumanity of slavery, patriarchy/gender roles, and even the origins of sexual kink (there’s a thread on sub/dom relations, which is more cerebral than erotic). Gorgik and his lover Small Sarg lead a revolution, earning the right to be called fiction’s first gay power couple.

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Publisher: Arbor House Publishing (originally, later Tor and Spectra)

Year: 1987

Themes: Regency era inspiration, swordfights/dueling, gay and bisexual relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Critically acclaimed (see: Editorial Reviews from Amazon page); Groundbreaking for its time in terms of gay content; Fan favorite (see: Listopia)

My quickie review: One of the most highly praised examples of “MM fantasy romance.” Though I would not lump Swordspoint in with modern “MM.” The story has dark romantic elements, but there’s much more going on beyond the sexual and romantic lives of the characters. The setting itself is strange and subtly textured. It has an “almost” quality – familiar in its portrayal of greedy ‘haves’ and squalid ‘have-nots,’ a mannerly Regency Era world where grievances are settled by duels and people dress for tea. Yet there’s just enough queerness, and unique geography, to make you realize this isn’t Oxfordshire in the 18^th century. The story centers on St. Vier, an expert swordsman with a host of wealthy patrons vying for his services, or to destroy him, in order to settle their petty feuds. Just about everyone is morally suspect, which makes for great drama and characters you love to hate. Kushner accomplishes quite a lot in this story of excess, greed, vanity and exploitation, including an unexpectedly compelling gay love story.

In the Eyes of Mr. Fury by Philip Ridley

Publisher: Penguin (originally), re-released by Valancourt

Year: 1989 and 2016 respectively

Themes: 1980s, coming of age, magical realism, young adult, urban and historical legend

Rationale for inclusion: Award-winning author (most notably for screenplays The Krays and stage plays); groundbreaking in its young adult-style portrayal of gay adolescence; #OwnVoices: Ridley is a gay man and his story is a semi-autobiographical gay coming of age tale (see: reference).

My quickie review: Before he was one of Britain’s preeminent playwrights, Ridley penned what I consider an astoundingly, ahead-of-its-time, unabashed story of gay adolescence, incorporating magical elements that I’d also say are prescient of the wondrous imagination of J.K. Rowling. He expanded the story in 2016 to create “the world’s first LGBT magical realism epic,” which is the version more widely available. Eighteen-year-old Concord is a gay kid in the working-class East End of London in the 1980s, and the mysterious death of a notorious curmudgeon up the street leads him into a magical journey, chaperoned by the eccentric Mama Zepp, through which he discovers neighborhood secrets, including the gay men and women who came before him. Mama Zepp’s collection of antique eyeglasses turn out to be something like Viewmaster devices for beholding scenes from the past, and her tea biscuits can summon the departed to tell their stories. It’s not all pretty for Concord looking back on how gay people lived, nor confronting how he himself can live, but when an unusual young man, accompanied by a protective crow, enters the neighborhood, first love may help Concord transcend the horrors of the past and present. An immensely charming story for readers of all ages.

The Drag Queen of Elfland by Lawrence Schimel

Publisher: Circlet

Year: 1997

Themes: Retold fairytales, short stories, AIDS, vampires, werewolves

Rationale for inclusion: IPPY Finalist (1998); award-winning author and editor; portrayal of HIV+ characters; #OwnVoices: Schimel is a gay man and his collection is primarily stories about gay men (see: reference).

My quickie review: Schimel’s short story collection is a wonderful illustration of how fantasy can be used as an atmosphere for exploring gay and lesbian situations. The fairytale setting is an appealing context for stories of young love, whether against-the-odds triumphant (“Fag Hag”) or earnest and painfully unrequited (“Heart of Stone”). The gothic or paranormal theme lends itself quite nicely to tales of loneliness as with “Take Back the Night,” in which an older lesbian who owns an all-night feminist bookstore is visited by a werewolf and tempted to literally become a woman who runs with the wolves. I loved Schimel’s choice of featuring gay men living with AIDS (“Hemo Homo”) and “femme” gay characters (“The Drag Queen of Elfland,” “Coming Out of the Broom Closet”). While those stories are rooted in an historical context, they bring attention to issues of positionality re. serostatus and gender expression that remain highly relevant in the gay male community.

Tower of the King’s Daughter by Chaz Brenchley

Publisher: Ace

Year: 1998

Themes: Knights/Crusaders, Arabic folklore, religious persecution, magic, gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: British Fantasy Award; Critically acclaimed (Starburst, Locus Magazine)

My quickie review: I only read this second book in Brenchley’s Outremer series as sadly, the series is out of print, and some confusion between the British and American editions led me to the Tower first. But I highly recommend it if you can get your hands on a copy from the library. The story takes inspiration from the Crusades, set in a desert kingdom where righteous ‘Ransomers’ clash with the native Sharai who have the gift of an arcane magic. A central POV character is the young, gay squire Marron, who is finding his place in the world amid his religiously fanatical countrymen, a band of insurgents with fantastical powers, and his master Sieur Anton D’Escrivey, who shares his persecuted gay identity. Brenchley’s writing is an engaging blend of quiet, introspective characterization and vivid action scenes.

The Chosen by Ricardo Pinto

Publisher: Tor

Year: 1999

Themes: Ancient world, royalty, slavery, fantasy creatures, young gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Gaylactic Spectrum Award finalist; Critically acclaimed (Strange Horizons, SF Site Reviews); #OwnVoices: the main character’s storyline involves a gay male relationship and the author is a gay man, vis-à-vis the book dedication to his husband.

My quickie review: Described as “low fantasy,” meaning no swords or sorcery, Pinto’s début novel and first book in the Stone Dance of the Chameleon attains its magic via a brilliantly imagined fantasy world that reads at times like it’s spun out of terrifying, fever dream. Pinto touches on ancient world sensibilities, but really the setting is one-of-a-kind. An aristocratic class (the titular ‘Chosen’) live lavishly, grotesquely, supported by a slave economy and caste system codified by gods-given edicts. That may not sound so new and innovative, but to see is to believe as Pinto draws the reader into a world of bizarre rituals, impossibly extravagant costumes, and strange beings who serve the royal court such as conjoined ‘syblings’ and the blinded undead who live in symbiosis with homunculus creatures. Carnelian, the fifteen-year-old heir to a royal house, is coming of age while a new god-emperor must be chosen through a complex and treacherous political process, which Carnelian’s father must oversee. In spite of his privileged status, he makes for a compelling lead—sensitive yet unafraid to stand up for himself, and an attempted assassination of his father propels him on a journey of increasing danger and isolation. Along the way, an encounter with a mysterious boy in a pitch dark, forbidden library leads to a tender, triumphant, and high stakes love story. This one hits all the marks for me.

Kirith Kirin by Jim Grimsley

Publisher: Meisha Merlin

Year: 2000

Themes: Elemental magic, coming of age, gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Multi-awards: Lambda Literary Foundation (winner), Gaylactic Spectrum (finalist); #OwnVoices: author is an openly gay man and the main characters are gay (see: reference).

My quickie review: Grimsley’s approach to fantasy is earthy, atmospheric and mystical, and reminded me a bit of Ursula Le Guin’s Wizard of Earthsea. He is also extremely meticulous. The story is a nearly day-to-day account of the magician Jessex’s apprenticeship and the eventual mastery of his powers. There’s not a lot of sword and sorcery as that’s not the story’s style. Jessex is kind and gentle and fights the battles that he must through a complex command of magic involving sacred songs and the manipulation of time and space. The book is at least equally a love story (Jessex and the titular Kirith Kirin) and a coming-of-age adventure. I thought the romantic storyline was sweet, surprising and accessible.

Mordred, Bastard Son by Douglas Clegg

Publisher: Alyson Books

Year: 2006

Themes: Arthurian legend, magic, coming of age, gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Critically acclaimed (see: Editorial reviews on Amazon page); Somewhat of a ‘cult favorite’ from a popular horror author; #OwnVoices: author is an openly gay man and the main character is a young gay man (see: reference).

My quickie review: Where Samuel Delaney blew me away with how provocative gay fantasy can be, Douglas Clegg’s retelling of the King Arthur legend blew me away with how fabulously subversive gay fantasy can be. Here, Clegg takes a despised character from a beloved canon, and tells his story in an inexorably sympathetic way. I think of it as a particularly noteworthy achievement in that traditional Arthurian legend is so stridently heterocentric. Evil, fey Mordred has been the inspiration for countless tales of queer villains, the archetypical foil to the righteous, sword-wielding, damsel-in-distress loving hero, repeated ad finitum in SFF. Clegg’s story is more than just a skewering of that narrative. It is a poignant story of a boy alienated from the human world because of his strange magical abilities and alienated from his own magical kin because of his queerness. And he has an affair with Lancelot. Read this book now!

Wicked Gentlemen by Ginn Hale

Publisher: Blind Eye Books

Year: 2007

Themes: Demons, persecution, mystery/crime, steampunk, gay romance

Rationale for inclusion: Gaylactic Spectrum award; Fan favorite (see: Listopia).

My quickie review: An immensely dark tale premised on the existence of an ancient demon race whose descendants are persecuted and exploited by an authoritarian, religious fanatic regime. That may sound rather “on the nose” for gay fantasy allegory, but this is quite a sophisticated novel that doesn’t veer into sentimentality or preachiness. Bellamai, who has demon blood, must team up with Captain William Harper who is tracking down a serial murderer and needs an expert who can help him navigate the seedy underground, aptly called Hell’s Below. There’s a complicated romance between the two men and lots of action, suspense and creepy atmosphere along the way.

Hero by Perry Moore

Publisher: Disney-Hyperion

Year: 2007

Themes: Superheroes, coming of age, coming out

Rationale for inclusion: Multi-awards: Lambda Literary Foundation Award winner, Gaylactic Spectrum finalist, Inky Awards finalist; Groundbreaking portrayal of gay superhero in teen literature; #Ownvoices: author (deceased) was a gay man and the main character is a gay youth (see: reference)

My quickie review: I’m coming out as a fantasy reader who is not a comic geek, which explains the paltry number of superhero titles on my list. What drew me to read Hero was the story behind the story. Perry Moore was a crusader for fair treatment of LGBTs in comics and SFF, and beyond the book he wrote, his outspoken, tenacious advocacy opened doors for LGBT superhero creators in the industry. The book is lovely. Closeted teen Thom Creed is trying to stay below the radar in a homophobic, working class town, and living with a gruff, single dad who was disabled by an accident. When Thom discovers he has magical abilities, he reluctantly and secretly joins ‘the League.’ There’s a boy he’s crushing on, but their encounters are always bittersweet near misses, along with lots of comic in-jokes and a simmering battle with the bad guys in the background.

The Steel Remains by Richard K. Morgan

Publisher: Gollancz (originally, later Del Rey)

Year: 2008

Themes: Sword and sorcery, slavery, persecution (including persecution of gays), gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Gaylactic Spectrum award; Commercially successful ‘crossover’ to mainstream SFF

My quickie review: Fantasy does not get much darker than The Steel Remains, so if you’re looking for an uplifting, gay-themed story and/or are squeamish about graphic violence including rape and sexualized torture, this is not the book for you. In fact, I vacillated about including The Steel Remains on my list because the two principal gay characters’ queerness is largely a source of hardship, persecution, and tragedy, a problematic treatment you can find far and wide in SFF. Still, two of the three rotating protagonists are unabashedly gay: Ringil, an emotionally and physically hardened male warrior, and Archeth, a tightly-wrapped, female dignitary of a mystical race, and the fact that their stories are front-and-center in a ‘popular’ market epic fantasy is something of an achievement for sure. The two must navigate a corrupt, war-torn world, which may be further unraveling by the return of an ancient race of magical demons. The writing is terrific, and the constant sense of danger makes the book a page-turner.

Ash by Malinda Lo

Publisher: Little Brown

Year: 2009

Themes: Retold fairytale; Medieval setting; fairies; lesbian relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Multi-award nominee: Lambda Literary Awards, Gaylactic Spectrum, William C. Morris for Début Young Adult fiction; Critically acclaimed (see: Editorial reviews on Amazon page); Commercially successful; #OwnVoices: author is an Asian, lesbian woman and the main character is a young lesbian (see: reference).

My quickie review: The tagline is: “Cinderella retold,” but this is quite a freshly imagined tale that charms the reader with its subtlety and eloquence. Lo pays tribute to the original source in clever ways: her use of language (the titular heroine Ash) and gender-swapped characters (a fairy godfather; a female “woodsman”), and the world and characters are much more complex than the good vs. evil conventions of classic fairytales. A convincing portrayal of an orphaned girl’s very high stakes struggle to live in an unsparing, feudal country with dangers arising from tradition as well as an intriguing, hidden magical world.

The Way of Thorn and Thunder by Daniel Heath Justice

Publisher: University of New Mexico Press

Year: 2011

Themes: Indigenous folklore/mythology, elemental magic, fantasy creatures and fantasy ‘races,’ war, persecution, two-spirit, gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Portrayal of people of color in fantasy; #OwnVoices: author is a Native, gay man and many of the characters are Native and non-heteronormative (see: reference).

My quickie review: This full-on Indigenous fantasy epic spans years and many miles in an engrossing story of a pre-historic America filled with magic and fantasy races and more political themes of cultural exploitation and extermination. Told through the rotating and intersecting journeys of ‘Kyn-folk’ characters, it is the story of the struggle to protect the ‘Everland’ from Men who would exploit and enslave its people and its sacred lands. Same-sex relationships and non-traditional gender roles among the ‘Kyn’ are portrayed matter-of-fact, and there’s a two-spirit character, a tribal healer, who is partnered with a male chief. As an allegory for the real, current and historical atrocities against Amerindian peoples, it is one of the most compelling heroic fantasies I’ve read.

Green Thumb by Tom Cardamone

Publisher: Lethe Press

Year: 2012

Themes: Post-apocalypse, dystopia, futuristic, “new weird fantasy,” mutation, gay relationships

Rationale for inclusion: Lambda award for SFF; Critically acclaimed (see Editorial reviews on Amazon); #OwnVoices: author is a gay man and the principal characters are gay men (see: reference)

My quickie review: I mentioned in my lead-in I’m not a huge fan of post-apocalypic, dystopian stories, but Green Thumb is such a brilliant testament to the power of the queer imagination, it surely belongs on a list of stand-out fantasy reads. The subject is near future biological catastrophe, and the lead character Leaf is described as a boy who eats the sun. Anthropomorphic and polymorphic characters abound. Leaf’s friends are a scaly skinned boy called Scallop and a manta ray-human hybrid called Skate. Leaf himself is more plant than human in constitution, but much more human than plant in emotion. Cardamone pushes boundaries in eroticizing the grotesque, yet the story is grounded in a sense of humanity for all things freakish, even achieving a sense of poignancy in its portrayal of young love. The writing style is lyrical and psychedelic, reminiscent of William S. Burroughs to me, thus it’s one wild, weird, wondrous and at times disturbing romp.

The Sorcerer of Wildeeps by Kai Ashante Wilson

Publisher: Tor

Year: 2015

Themes: Demigods, sorcerers, African-inspired setting, gay relationships, fantasy creatures

Rationale for inclusion: Crawford award; Portrayal of people of color in fantasy; #OwnVoices: author is a black, gay man and the principal characters are black, gay men (see: reference)

My quickie review: A fantasy adventure strong on style and literary “voice.” The main character Demane and his love interest the Captain are demigods. Demane is also a sorcerer with a magical ability to heal. Different from traditional fantasy, we don’t see much of what that means on the page, and the spare storyline is an expedition into the wild to kill a lion-like beast called the junkiere. What you do get is lyrical passages and effective dialogue that grounds the reader in a wondrous world of Wilson’s imagination.

CoSG Flash Sale!

Posted on September 6, 2017 by andrew

**Flash Sale Alert!** Just through 11:59 PM EST today, Bold Strokes Books has The City of Seven Gods on sale for just $2.99 in honor of its recent Silver Falchion award.

What can you get cheaper than that? A small coffee perhaps. A single subway ride (barely these days). But in any case, you need something to read while you’re on the train drinking your coffee.

You can buy the book at the webstore here. Feel free to spread the word to every single person you know.

Thanks!!

Andrew J. Peters

Author, educator, and activist

Tag Archives: gay fantasy

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On #OwnVoices in Gay Fantasy – A Look at Recent and New Data

2017 in Books

An introduction to gay fantasy

CoSG Flash Sale!