Three terrific new queer-inclusive picture books haven’t yet been published in the U.S., but they’re worth seeking out. One offers a rare and lovely look at an extended queer family; another is a high seas adventure that incidentally stars a family with two moms; and the third is a love story about a merman and a fisherman.
I mention these books not to tempt my U.S. readers with what you can’t have yet—but so that a) You can seek at least some of them out via Book Depository (which offers free shipping to the U.S. even for many non-U.S. titles) or other online channels; b) If you are traveling or have friends and family who are, now that pandemic restrictions are lifting, you may be able to nab them; c) You can help create some buzz on social media about them so that U.S. publishers will be motivated to pick them up for publication here.
To readers already in the U.K. or Australia–lucky you!
Frizzle and Me, by Ellie Royce and illustrated by Andrew McLean (Ford Street), is a gem of a book about a growing family that begins with a mum and child, then adds a second mum; the child’s dad; the dad’s new wife; and their child. “When I was born, my family was Mummy and me,” the narrator (who is never gendered) begins. When they were one, Mummy met Jani, and they loved each other. When they were two, Mummy asked if they’d like Jani “to be your other mummy.” The narrator wants to know if Mummy will still hug her and if Jani will still read her stories. “Then my family was Mummy, Jani and me,” they tell us.
When they are three, David, “Mummy’s best friend and my daddy” comes to visit. Mummy asks the narrator if they would like David to live there, too. Then David meets Elizabeth and they plan to marry. The narrator’s mum asks the narrator if they would like David and Elizabeth to keep living there. Then Mummy says that David and Elizabeth are having a baby. Each development is followed by the narrator asking questions about how things will be, followed by a statement of “Then my family was…” and the people in it. I love the respect shown to the young narrator as the family expands. It isn’t something thrust upon them; they’re a part of the decision making. There’s also no sense that the family is incomplete at any stage, even as it grows.
Royce’s text is cadenced and lovely. McLean’s soft watercolor and ink images show sweet and gently humorous scenes of family life, reinforcing the things that stay the same (food, music, books, pets, love) even as the family evolves. The mum is Black; Jani, David, and Elizabeth are White, and the narrator is biracial.
This is a truly joyous and warm story of a family that, like more families today, includes a web of genetic and non-genetic connections. Aside from a few books that mention donor siblings, I don’t believe any other picture book has depicted such a family—though as the 2010 anthology for grown-ups, And Baby Makes More, shows, such families are very real. It’s about time there’s a picture book about them—and wonderful that it’s as good as Frizzle and Me. (This family’s web is only one of many, of course; let’s hope other books show other variations, too.)
Unfortunately, it is currently only available in Australia (or with hefty shipping charges). Stay tuned for any possible information about a U.S. release.
The Pirate Mums, by Jodie Lancet-Grant and illustrated by Lydia Corry (Oxford), is just pure fun. “Billy’s family was not what you’d call ordinary,” it begins—but it’s not because he has two mums. It’s because they love sea shanties, have a pet parrot, and prefer navigating by old maps. That’s why Billy is hesitant when his teachers asks the mums to chaperone a class trip to the seaside. He tries to stop them, but to no avail. They start to head out dressed in their finest pirate wear. “Can’t you be normal? Just for today?” Billy asks in frustration. In deference, they tone down their clothes. On the trip, though, the ship is caught in a sudden storm, and it’s up to the mums and their sea savvy to save the day. In the end, Billy agrees that sometimes not being ordinary can be a good thing.
I love this book first of all because it’s simply a fun and rollicking adventure that should resonate with any kid who was ever embarrassed by their parents, i.e, most of them. Lancet-Grant also cleverly avoids giving us yet another story about a kid who feels different because of having same-sex parents—we have tales aplenty like that. Instead, the parents’ queerness is not even mentioned and is probably the least interesting thing about them. At the same time, there’s a message here about finding strength in difference that kids with queer parents (or any kind of “different” family) should particularly appreciate. Queer readers and their kids will get an extra smile seeing the rainbow-colored flares set off by the mums, implying that it’s their difference that gives them their power, but the story loses little if the flares are simply seen as colorful. In other words, the story will appeal to a wide range of readers and families, even though there’s a message in it that kids in queer families may pick up on faster than most.
As of this writing, the book is only published in the U.K. The only word U.S. readers may be unfamiliar with, though (other than “mum,” which is easily understood). is “pongy”—“smelly” (which is sort of a fun word anyway, and deserves wider use). U.S. readers can purchase the book (with shipping charges) via Amazon U.K. or with free shipping via Book Depository.
Nen and the Lonely Fisherman, by Ian Eagleton and illustrated by James Mayhew (Owlet Press), is a queer fairy tale evoking the classic Little Mermaid. Nen, a merman, lives in a beautiful underwater kingdom, but his heart feels empty. He sings songs into the sky while his father Pelagios pleads with him to stay away from the world above. One day, a lonely fisherman named Ernest hears Nen’s song and sets off in his boat to find the source. They meet—and talk, laugh, and dream together. Nen’s father, though, tells Nen to stay away from humans, who are destroying the oceans. Nen doesn’t listen, knowing Earnest is different, but then Pelagios unleashes a storm that capsizes Earnest’s boat. Nen rescues him and Pelagios sees that the two young men really care for each other. In the last scene, Earnest and Nen hold hands on the rocks by the shore, with the waves splashing up around them, and dream of the future. Nen and his father are Black; Earnest is White.
This is a gentle and sweet love story that both draws on tradition and gives us something fresh and new. While Pelagios is initially disapproving, it’s not because his son fell in love with another man—though his prejudices may still prompt readers to ponder issues of bias and acceptance, even as they also reflect on the need to take better care of our oceans. The illustrations are full of sweeping curves and fluid motion, and the full-page spreads showing the ocean depths are particularly captivating.
As of this writing, the book is only published in the U.K. U.S. readers can purchase it via Amazon U.K. or with free shipping via Book Depository.
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