Tag Archives: middle grade

Queer Joy at the IBD Support Group: The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet by Jake Maia Arlow

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the cover of The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet

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And you think you have a lot of crap to deal with!

The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet by Jake Maia Arlow is the story of twelve-year-old Al Schneider, whose life is moving at far too fast a pace—and so are her intestines. She’s not sure if and how to explain that she likes girls. Her mom barely seems to notice anything but her digestive challenges. Her best and only friend, Leo, wants to join drama club and leave her behind. All of which she needs to address between runs to the bathroom thanks to her Crohn’s disease.

When it comes to depicting Crohn’s disease, Arlow, much like an afflicted sphincter, doesn’t hold back. And I love that. Disability is hard, and bowel-related disabilities have a particular challenge thanks to their symptoms being very little-discussed. We don’t discuss poop, as a society. People with IBD don’t have a choice, and the book doesn’t sugar-coat that. (Sugar-coated poop is… somehow considerably worse.) But jokes aside, I appreciated that the book honestly addressed everything from farts to colostomy bags to pooping yourself in gym class, and it did so with empathy and respect.

At the same time, autonomy and identity merge well as themes with regard to both Al’s disability and her sexuality. She feels validated when her middle school IBD meeting offers different snacks to suit digestive needs; she feels frustrated when her mom chooses the same stomach-safe foods over and over. Al does need accommodations. She also deserves to make choices about her own body. So it makes sense that someone who is figuring things about herself and very much wants more autonomy would be hesitant to come out.

That was another aspect of the book I liked. Al knows she won’t face homophobia when she comes out to her mom, who is bisexual and has a girlfriend. It’s not about fear but identity: she doesn’t want to be seen as “copying” when she’s just being herself. I enjoyed the exploration of why someone might keep that private for reasons besides fear.

In fact, the book features plenty of queer joy. Al’s IBD middle school support group consists entirely of queer kids. She feels right at home among them, and especially with cute girl Mina. Al and Mina’s relationship reminded me a lot of a relationship I once had with another disabled person (mentioned here with permission). There were experiences we shared as disabled people and things we innately understood about one another—which is not to say non-disabled people can’t do that, they absolutely can, but they often don’t. I felt so validated by the comfort and companionship Al and Mina found with each other.

Now, this is not to say that the book is perfect. Conflicts came to convenient resolutions, but that made its own sort of sense. Al is isolated by her disability and it has impacted her social development. She is caring but also thoughtless, not the most empathetic person by a far cry. She needs to hear other people’s perspectives, and they need to see that she cares. I also would have liked to see more about Al’s questions about gender identity, which are raised early on but largely abandoned.

Is The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet perfect? No. But it is engaging, honest, sweet, and hilarious. A more than worthy addition to the annals of sapphic middle grade fiction!

Beware the Fae (Even When Gay): The Pale Queen by Ethan M. Aldridge

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The Pale Queen cover

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I just want to bask for a moment in the reality that we live in a time where an author can go to a major publisher and say, “Here’s my pitch for a book: a sapphic gothic romance graphic novel for middle schoolers” and get a yes. I’m so glad that we do, because I loved this book. The artwork is gorgeous, especially the landscapes that establish the setting. It also perfectly captures a dark fairy tale tone, both with the artwork and the references to folklore.

This is about Agatha, a girl in a small town who has always dreamed of becoming an astronomer. When she meets a mysterious woman called the Lady of the Hills, she’s given a hagstone that leads her into a secret, magical realm. She’s delighted by being able to visit this world and befriends one of the Folk of the Hills, but when she makes a new friend (and crush) in town, the Lady grows jealous and vengeful.

My only complaint with this is the romance happens very quickly, but this is a one-volume graphic novel, so it kind of has to. The Pale Queen really feels like a classic fairy tale/folk tale, including the favours that Agatha has to do for the Lady of the Hills, like telling a story to a troll to stop him from waking up and destroying the town, or guarding a flower that only blooms when the full moon is directly overhead.

This reminded me of Other Ever Afters: New Queer Fairy Tales by Mel Gillman, both in terms of the art (which I love) and the feeling of a classic fairy tale. It makes me very happy to see both kids’ books and fairy tales become more inclusive of queer people. I highly recommend this one.

A Witchy Parent Trap: Emma and the Love Spell by Meredith Ireland

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Emma has plans for the perfect summer, and they all involve her best friend (and crush!) Avangeline by her side. However, Avangeline reveals that her parents are getting a divorce, and her mom plans to take her with her to New Orleans! Emma decides that she will do whatever it takes to keep Avangeline here with her in Samsonville—even if it means using her secret witchy powers that she doesn’t have control over. As Emma works on honing her craft and tries to get Avangeline’s parents together through both magical and non-magical means, she learns that being different may be the most powerful thing of all.

I adored reading Emma and the Love Spell. For a deceptively simple premise, it packs a powerful punch. Emma is not only dealing with typical middle-school trials, like her best friend having to move away, but also layers that with feelings of isolation due to being the only non-white person in Samsonville and also a witch. She struggles with having to hide so many parts of herself and it is heartbreaking to read her sadness and anger at having to do so. The ending (spoiler alert) makes it all the sweeter when Emma is able to not only gain control over her powers, but also can share them with Avangeline. 

Even with these serious subthemes, Emma and the Love Spell is kept light and easy most of the time. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as I read about Emma’s attempts to “parent trap” Avangeline’s parents, or her many opinions on Shrek Forever After. (Siri, remind me to rewatch it later.) Emma’s friendship with Avangeline is sweet and true, making the reader reminiscent of when they were a young person, excited to spend summer with their best friend. Add to that the sarcastic Persimmon the telepathic cat and the wise Oliver the talking parrot, and you have a hilarious crew ready for any supernatural hijinks!

Readlikes for Emma and the Love Spell include Summer at Squee by Andrea Wang, When You Trap a Tiger by Tae Keller, Front Desk by Kelly Yang, and Witchlings by Claribel A. Ortega.

If you enjoy retellings of The Parent Trap, Eva Ibbotson, and emotional climaxes, you can order your copy of Emma and the Love Spell through Bookshop, your local indie bookstore, or your library.

A Small Middle Grade with a Big Punch: The Mighty Heart of Sunny St. James by Ashley Herring Blake

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Sunny St. James has a new lease on life. In her case, this is literal after she receives a heart transplant and finally, finally has a chance to have something close to a normal summer. Swimming in the ocean, staying up late to watch movies, and devouring junk food are now actual possibilities rather than daydreams.

This also means that she can finally begin implementing her new life plan:

Step One: Do awesome amazing things I could never do before.
Step Two: Find a new best friend.
Step Three: Find a boy and kiss him.

At first, her plan is off to an incomprehensible level of success when Sunny meets Quinn Ríos Rivera and finds that making a new best friend isn’t that hard. However, it doesn’t take long for her to realize that the rest of her plan is going to be a bit more difficult. Between struggling with the fallout of her relationship with her Former Best Friend (FBF), to the unexpected arrival of her estranged mother, to the realization that maybe she doesn’t even want to kiss boys in the first place, Sunny is struggling to figure out how all of the different parts of herself fit together.

This was such a fun book, pure and simple. I’ve read Ashley Herring Blake’s middle grade work before in Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World, but she continues to blow me away with how well she portrays the experience of being an awkward twelve-year-old with a first crush. Sunny is the perfect balance of exasperated and exasperating in the way that kids can be and I love how Blake doesn’t shy away from her characters making mistakes.

I’m also always amazed at how much Blake can pack into her books. It’s about being a twelve-year-old. It’s also about coming to terms with queer identity in a world that can be hostile to that, and unusual family structures, growing out of friendships, and how to wrestle with a constant stream of anxious thoughts. I especially love how the book handles the complexity of Sunny’s relationship with her mom, a woman who hasn’t been in her life in almost a decade due to her struggles with alcoholism. The book doesn’t shy away from the tougher conversations, but they are approached with such thought and care.

If you’re a fan of Blake’s adult romances like Delilah Green Doesn’t Care or Iris Kelly Doesn’t Date, I suggest giving these a try—you’ll find a lot of the same things that make her other books so much fun. For me, they are such a wonderful escape into a cozy world where things turn out alright in the end as long as you’re true to yourself.

Content warnings: surgery, illness, homophobia, references to addiction

A Comforting Queer Cozy Fantasy Comic: The Baker and the Bard by Fern Haught

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One of my favourite micro niches is queer cozy fantasy middle grade comics—which mostly just means I adore the Tea Dragon series by K. O’Neill. I have a print from that series on my wall. I have the box set. I have the card game! And since I read it, I’ve been looking for something else that is just as sweet, comforting, kind, and magical. When I heard about The Baker and the Bard, it rose to the top of my most-anticipated queer books of 2024. I’m happy to say that it lived up to those expectations.

Juniper and Hadley are friends in Larkspur: Juniper is a baker’s apprentice, while Hadley is trying to make it as a bard. When the bakery receives a very expensive rush order for galettes, the two of them set out to try to gather the rare mushrooms the recipe requires. Along the way, they discover that a nearby town has been dealing with something coming out of the woods and devouring their crops at night—a mystery Hadley is determined to solve.

I really don’t want to say much about the plot, because this is a short comic and would be easy to spoil. I’ll instead say that while they do go on a little adventure, it’s fairly low-stakes, just as I’d expect from a cozy fantasy. They make some new friends, including encountering fantasy creatures, which is a huge plus for me. I never really got past the Pokemon stage of wanting to collect and care for a variety of beautiful fantasy animals (though I never wanted them to fight).

Hadley is nonbinary, and there’s a little romance subplot between these two friends. It’s very cute.

If you like The Tea Dragon Society, cozy fantasy, or gentle and comforting comics, you have to pick this one up. I want a hundred more just like it.

When Your Hyperfixation is Sapphic Books: A Shortlist of Sapphic Autistic Narratives

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I recently read a report from the University of Cambridge about how autistic people are more likely to be queer than allistic people, with specifically autistic female-identifying people being three times as likely to identify as some form of queer. If you are interested in reading more about this, you can read the abstract. This got me thinking about how there has been a recent uptick in autistic narratives, especially in young adult and middle grade books. Once I got thinking about that, I went down a little rabbit hole of autistic queer literature, and found some fantastic titles that I’d love to share with y’all! Without any further ado, here are five of my favorite autistic sapphic titles.

the cover of The Ojja-Wojja

The Ojja-Wojja by Magdalene Visaggio and Jenn St-Onge

Val and Lanie are two middle-graders trying to retain their individuality in small-town Bollingbrooke, despite the metaphorical targets on their backs due to being queer (Lanie) or autistic (Val). When the two complete an ancient ritual and summon the Ojja-Wojja, Val, Lanie and their group of friends have to defend the town against the demonic presence before it destroys their town.

The Ojja-Wojja is great for people who heard “Alien Party” by Sid Dorey and went “wow…they’re right! Being queer or autistic is like being an alien!” 

the cover of Margo Zimmerman Gets the Girl

Margo Zimmerman Gets the Girl by Sara Waxelbaum and Briana R. Shrum

Margo is an overachiever, autistic, and newly out as gay, while Abbi is known for being visibly queer and failing US History. The two team up to cover their blind spots; Margo receives Queer 101 lessons in exchange for Abbi receiving history lessons.

Margo Zimmerman Gets the Girl is a fun, tongue-in-cheek read that I couldn’t put down. If you want a book about a Jewish, autistic protagonist and plenty of queer rep, you’ll want to pick up this one.

the cover of Cleat Cute

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner 

When Phoebe joined the US Women’s National Team, she had no idea that she was taking Grace’s spot after the veteran got injured. The two clash due to their personalities, until a daring kiss brings them together. The two work together both on and off the field as the World Cup approaches. Grace wrestles with a potential autism diagnosis and Phoebe is diagnosed with ADHD, making this the AuDHD romance of your dreams.

I would recommend Cleat Cute for people who are fans of Ted Lasso and A League of Their Own.  

the cover of The Luis Ortega Survival Club

The Luis Ortega Survival Club by Sonora Reyes

In this YA revenge story, a queer and autistic girl is struggling to put into words what happened and decide if she has the right to be mad with the cute, popular person she had sex with at a party—where she didn’t say no but she definitely didn’t say yes. But when she finds other students determined to expose this predator, she decides to take him down.

This is the autistic revenge story that fans of Do Revenge will want in their TBR stacks.

the cover of An Unkindness of Ghosts

An Unkindness of Ghosts by River Solomon

This dystopian sci-fi novel features Aster, an autistic person who works on the HMS Matilda as a descendant of the original passengers journeying to a Promised Land. However, the ship’s leaders have imposed a brutal enslavement on the passengers of color, including Aster, and she learns there may be a way to end it if she is willing to start a civil war.

Aster’s autism is integral to the story and not for trauma-related reasons—her perspective on the HMS  (and the reader by extension) is thoroughly informed by her being autistic.

As always, you can get any of these books through your local library, indie bookstore, or through the Bookshop links above! Happy reading!

Chloe (they/he) is a public librarian in Baltimore, who identifies as Indigenous, autistic, and panromantic demisexual. They enjoy reading queer literature for any age group, as well as fantasy, contemporary, and romance. In their spare time, they act in local community theaters, play D&D, and are halfway through their MLiS program. You can find them on Goodreads, Twitter, or Instagram.

A Sweet Middle Grade Coming-of-Age: Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World by Ashley Herring Blake

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Ivy Aberdeen’s life was already chaotic between her newborn twin brothers, her older sister’s odd behavior, and Ivy struggling with her own confusing feelings for girls that she can’t quite name. But then her family home is swept away by a tornado and Ivy’s world is completely upended without a home and without her trusted notebook filled with her secret drawings of girls holding hands.

That is, until the drawings from her lost notebook begin to show up in her locker, along with a note telling her she should talk to someone. Ivy doesn’t know what that note means, because obviously she’s fine. Ivy has to figure out who has her notebook and get it back, and maybe along the way she’ll figure out what those feelings even mean.

This is such a sweet middle grade story. I never knew that Ashley Herring Blake, author of the Delilah Green Doesn’t Care romances, wrote books for younger audiences! It has a lot of her charm and a love of quirky small towns, but there’s something about the formula that I find clicks even more when it comes to middle grade. Of course, I might be biased because I adore middle grade, perhaps because the explosion of LGBTQ+ middle grades are the very sorts of books that I wish I had access to when I was a kid. Luckily, they exist now, and the list is ever-growing!

Ivy is a character that feels so real as she struggles with her simultaneous love of and frustration with her family, her sometimes annoyance with her best friend, and the way she makes mistakes and oversteps and miscommunicates. All of this is written with such compassion for how hard it can be to figure out your place in the world. I also want to say that for a book that features deep grief in the wake of a natural disaster, it has such charm and humor in places that it doesn’t feel too overwhelming.  

So oftentimes a coming-of-age focuses on romance as the way for a person to figure themselves out. That certainly exists—it’s partially about Ivy’s struggle with her feelings for the new girl in class, after all—but it’s also about how families evolve and grow, how you can find community in unexpected places. It’s a lovely testament to the bravery and power in being true to yourself and I would highly recommend as a heartwarming read for a bit of hope.

Trigger warnings: natural disasters, childhood illness, grief, references to homophobia

Kids Can Fight Injustice Too: Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston by Esme Symes-Smith

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the cover of Sir Callie

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“My name is Callie, and I’m not a girl. I am here as Papa’s squire, and I want to train as a knight.”

Content warnings: verbal and physical abuse from parental figures; internalized homophobia/transphobia; deadnaming; bullying; queer-coded distrust of magic; parental figure with implied depression; implied suicide of SC; death of sibling to SC; grief, anxiety and other traumas 

Rep: nonbinary/sapphic MC; sapphic SC; genderqueer SC; gay parental figure; bi parental figure 

I received an e-arc from Netgalley and Labyrinth Road free of charge, and my opinions are completely my own.

As an adult reading middle-grade, I am often wary of either reading a narrative that infantizes the reader or overestimates their experiences. When I read Sir Callie for the first time, I was delighted to see that I wouldn’t have to worry about that. Syme-Smith’s voice is an entrancing one, with their writing transporting the reader back to being twelve years old and having an idealized version of the world. Callie’s perspective on her family and her reactions to Helston’s intolerance feel incredibly true to not only the character that Syme-Smith skillfully crafted, but to tweens everywhere, regardless of sexuality or gender. Beyond Callie, the rest of the cast is as wonderfully wrought, whether you look at Elowen and her fierce determination for equality, at Willow and his fear of letting down his kingdom, or at Edwyn and his desire to please his father (the villain of the book) battling what he believes to be good and true. Even the adults shine as full-fledged characters who are not necessarily demons or angels, but rather are judged by their intentions and interactions with their privilege. 

Sir Callie is a book that validates the childhood experiences of readers who have experienced prejudice, abuse from parental figures, and internalized and externalized queerphobia. I personally fell in love with Sir Callie because I felt seen—the things that happened to me as a child were acknowledged with a gentle hand, and I saw kinship in Willow’s struggles with magic and Elowen and Edwyn’s relationships with their parents. Readers of all ages can find healing amongst Callie’s family, both birth and chosen, as Symes-Smith assures us (through Nick) that as kids, our only job is to be a kid.  

Of course, I cannot NOT talk about the queer representation within Sir Callie! We come into Callie’s story with them having realized that they are not cisnormative, and fast-forward to their identifying proudly as nonbinary. The words that Symes-Smith uses to describe being nonbinary are simple, and yet lifechanging. Here are one of my favorite quotes: “I wasn’t a she, and I wasn’t a he, I was just . . . Callie. Eventually, I put on “they,” and I haven’t taken those shoes off since.” Beyond the nonbinary representation, Symes-Smith makes having magic (and not being a girl) immensely queer-coded, especially when seen in Prince Willow, who is bookish and wants to please everyone around him. There is little to no romance in Sir Callie—the only romance blossoming is between Nick and Neal, Callie’s dads, and perhaps a slight crush on a certain girl…But no spoilers!  

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston (I dare you to say that five times fast) has become one of my absolute favorite middle grade books with its placing queer characters and realistic themes front and center. This is an incredibly important title that I can see being discussed in schools and library book clubs—and should be! The fantasy elements bring a bit of distance to a plot that discusses real life issues such as prejudice, intolerance, and abuse, and treats its readers with respect and care. The only real complaint that I could have about it is that the ending felt a little too perfect. However, Symes-Smith has since revealed that Sir Callie was just book one, and will be part of a four-book series. Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost is set to focus on obstacles outside of Helston and to show how fighting for justice never ends at getting rid of one villain. 

Are you still not sure about reading Sir Callie? Well, if you like these books: 

  1. The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle 
  2. The Sun and the Star, by Rick Riordan 
  3. The Witch Boy, by Molly Ostertag 
  4. Dear Mothman, by Robin Dow 

Then you’d definitely want to grab a copy of Sir Callie! You can get a copy of Sir Callie from your local bookstore or library, or you can get a copy through Bookshop. 

Chloe (they/he) is a public librarian in Baltimore, who identifies as Indigenous, autistic, and panromantic demisexual. They enjoy reading queer literature for any age group, as well as fantasy, contemporary, and romance. In their spare time, they act in local community theaters, play D&D, and are halfway through their MLiS program. You can find them on Goodreads, Twitter, or Instagram.

Culinary Combat School: Cooking With Monsters by Jordan Alsaqa & Vivian Truong

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the cover of Cooking with Monsters Vol 1

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Recently, I read and loved Basil and Oregano by Melissa Capriglione, a sapphic YA graphic novel set at a magiculinary school. I am delighted to say that Cooking with Monsters—one of my most-anticipated books of the year—is also a sapphic YA graphic novel set at a fantasy cooking school. In this case, though, cooking is only one half of the challenge. Just as important is the students’ ability to fight monsters, which they will then prepare as gourmet meals.

This was such a delight to read, and I can’t wait for volume two. This book establishes a diverse cast of characters and their relationships with each other, as well as the basics of how training happens at Gourmand School of Culinary Combat.

The main character is Hana. When she was a kid, her and her best friend Bobby were rescued from a monster by a warrior chef, and ever since, it’s been her dream to become a warrior chef herself. Now Hana and Bobby are both starting their first year. The cast is rounded out by Hana and Bobby’s roommates as well as Hana’s love interest and academic rival, Olivia.

While Hana is immediately smitten with Olivia, after a promising introduction, they quickly get off on the wrong foot. Hana is disappointed that her hero isn’t the one to mentor her, while Olivia is resentful that Hana doesn’t appreciate the mentor she does have: Chef Graham. Unbeknownst to Hana, Chef Graham is Olivia’s grandfather, and he swore he’d never take on another student. Olivia is hurt that he’d decide to train Hana over her. This initial misstep spirals into more rivalry and miscommunication between them. Meanwhile, Bobby is becoming closer with Olivia and he and Hana are drifting apart.

While I felt like the beginning of this volume was a little bumpy, I was soon pulled into this world and the well-rounded characters. First of all, there are the monsters, which are all part animal and part food (think Mooseshrooms, which grow mushroom from their antlers). Some are violent and are defeated through combat. Others are cared for, with their fruits responsibly harvested. They’re such a fun visual element.

I mentioned already the diversity of the cast, but that really is woven into the story. Hana and Bobby are coded Japanese and Vietnamese, and they face racism and anti-immigrant sentiments from some people in their community—including a second year student who used to harass them. Olivia is Black. One side character is nonbinary, and another is a trans man with top surgery scars. I often lose track of a long list of characters, but each of them is distinct in both design and personality.

It’s this group of characters that, alongside the monsters, is the main strength of the graphic novel. I can definitely see how this can support a whole series, because I’m intrigued by even the characters we’ve only seen briefly. We’ve also gotten a look into Hana’s own weaknesses she has to overcome in her training, and I look forward to seeing what subsequent years are like at the academy!

This definitely lived up to my (high) expectations, and as I just keep saying in this review, I can’t wait for volume two to come out!

Concentrated Adorableness in a Queernorm World: The Tea Dragon Society by Kay O’Neill

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the cover of The Tea Dragon Society

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The Tea Dragon Society is a short graphic novel composed of the most concentrated adorableness I have ever encountered. It centers around Greta, an outgoing, compassionate girl training to become a blacksmith—though she sees the profession as somewhat outdated. Rescuing a tea dragon brings her to tea brewers Hesekiel and Erik, and their painfully shy ward Minette, all of whom help Greta decide what truly matters.

Central to this story is the existence of tea dragons, a mix between the ethereal and a sweet but needy pet. These small creatures frolic, snuggle, and occasionally blep. They also sprout tea leaves: fur-puffed Rooibos grows them like a mane, while the languid Jasmine has leafy antlers between his large, curving ears. And don’t get me started on little Chamomile, whose floppy ears, stubby wings, and little puppy body have absolutely captured my heart. (They may keep it.)

The narrative itself is simple enough. This being a first volume, it serves largely to introduce the main characters, and as much plot as it includes is about Greta’s growing maturity. Even so, as someone who usually needs a strong plot, I enjoyed this so much I wish every individual panel came with two pages of text, just to make it last longer. This doesn’t need a plot because it knows what it is and fulfills that purpose.

As for the worldbuilding, well, the book is an exploration of gorgeousness and soft light.

Only as I’m writing this do I realize that the sapphic content is almost ambiguous—to me, Greta and Min’s relationship is clearly a romantic one, even if that romance is of the subtle sort. There are simply too many blushes, meaningful glances, and close moments to be platonic. There’s also a small kiss near the end. It’s coded in a way that would be unambiguous between a cis girl and a cis boy in other media, and for a comic that so normalizes queerness, The Tea Dragon Society seems to me to be an epically tender slow burn.

Zero content warnings here, just a strong recommend for anyone who appreciates a simple tale of nurturing, healing, family, and time.