5 New Queer-Inclusive Middle Grade Books (that Even Adults May Love)

There have been so many queer-inclusive picture books out this year that I’ve gotten a little behind on the middle grade ones! Let’s remedy that with a look at five new ones worth a read!

5 New Queer-Inclusive Middle Grade Books (that Even Adults May Love)

Hazel Bly and the Deep Blue Sea

Ashley Herring Blake (Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World, The Mighty Heart of Sunny St. James) has another winner in Hazel Bly and the Deep Blue Sea (Little Brown), a poignant tale about grief, friendship, and family. Twelve-year-old Hazel blames herself for her Mum’s death in a kayaking accident two years ago, an accident that left her scarred physically and emotionally. Ever since, she has had anxiety and is overprotective of her little sister Peach—and the ocean that she once loved is now a place of fear and death. Their Mama is too caught up in her own grief to help Hazel process hers. The girls and Mama have been traveling the country since the accident, never staying in one place more than a few months, though Hazel longs to go back to their home in California. When the family arrives at Rose Harbor, Maine, however, something feels different. Maybe it’s running into Mama’s childhood friend and former crush Claire (who is bisexual, like Mum was), or Claire’s daughter Lemon, who is Hazel’s age and obsessed with the local myth of the Rose Maid mermaid, Hazel’s spitting image.

Lemon and Claire are also dealing with a loss of their own, and we see Hazel slowly start to connect with Lemon and her friends, one of whom is nonbinary. Mama is growing close to Claire, however, and Hazel is worried she will stop remembering Mum, whom Mama has not spoken of since the accident. Hazel herself is afraid to get too friendly with Lemon or Lemon’s friends, knowing her family will soon be moving on—and knowing that closeness also means the risk of loss. Eventually, these fears bring Hazel to a crisis point, forcing her to confront herself and risk change if she is to move forward.

Hazel and her family, as well as Claire and her family, are presumed White; one of Lemon’s friends is Japanese American. Blake slips in some information about pronouns and nonbinary pride, but does so without being pedantic, and the nonbinary character Jules also ends up in a romantic subplot (though I won’t say more for fear of spoilers). Notably, too, the parents are as well fleshed out as the children; while the story is told from Hazel’s perspective, the parents have emotional lives of their own and are more than just cut-out background figures, as is the case in some middle-grade stories.

Lyrical and moving, bittersweet but ultimately hopeful in its message about the power of healing and change, this is a highly recommended read. With a 12-year-old protagonist, it will likely appeal most to middle graders, but is substantial enough to engage older teens (and even adults).

Almost FlyingIn Almost Flying, by Jake Maia Arlow (Dial), 13-year-old Dalia loves roller coasters. At least, she loves watching videos about them—she’s never actually been on one. Her plans to do so, however, are derailed when she has a falling out with her best friend and her divorced dad suddenly tells her he has a fiancée. He wants her to spend the summer bonding with the fiancée’s college-age daughter, Alexa. When Dalia discovers that Alexa and Alexa’s friend Dhruv had been planning an amusement-park road trip for the summer, however, she concocts a plan to come along, bringing her new friend Rani. Alexa isn’t happy to have to “babysit,” however, and has issues with her own mother as well. On the trip, Dalia and Alexa have to negotiate their touchy relationship as Dalia’s feelings for Rani deepen into something she can’t quite figure out.

Luckily, it turns out that both Dhruv and Alexa are queer, too, and Alexa’s secret girlfriend Sara is also joining them on the trip. Although Alexa and Dalia don’t get along at first, they eventually find a kind of respect, and ultimately, Alexa, Sara, and Dhruv offer supportive guidance to Dalia as she works through her feelings for Rani. It’s a lovely example of how queer people form community and the importance of queer bonds and mentorship across generations.

This is a sweet queer romance with appropriately roller-coaster bumps and twists, not only with regard to Dalia and Rani’s relationship, but also to the relationships among the other characters. And while it is a coming out story as Dalia assesses her feelings for Rani (and Rani’s for her), neither character has angst about being queer per se, which is refreshing. Author Jake Maia Arlow knows her roller coasters, too, weaving in lots of fun facts about their history and structure via Dalia’s enthusiastic retelling.

Dalia is of Polish Jewish heritage and Rani of Persian Muslim heritage, and while neither of them is religiously observant, they each make reference to cultural touchpoints that ring true. Arlow also throws in some nice touches like having Dalia use “they” pronouns for a minor character they meet, not assuming their gender. This isn’t dwelt upon or even pointed out, but offers a good example for other writers of how to model such inclusion even in stories that aren’t “about” gender identity.

A soaring debut novel with engaging characters and a perfect balance of fun, romance, and emotional insights.

The Legend of Auntie PoThe Legend of Auntie Po, by Shing Yin Khor (Kokila), is a graphic novel set in a Sierra Nevada logging camp in the late 19th century, weaving the historical setting with a hefty dose of magical realism. Thirteen-year-old Mei is the daughter of the camp’s cook, who immigrated to the U.S. from China. Mei bakes pies for the workers and tells them tales of Auntie Po, a giant, elderly, Chinese woman who has a blue water buffalo named Pei Pei and could outdo even Paul Bunyan in cutting trees.

The Chinese Exclusion Act, however, is making things tough at camp. Although the foreman, who is White, tries to be supportive, he is under pressure by the company owner not to hire Chinese workers. Amidst the growing stress, we see Auntie Po and Pei Pei come to life to help Mei and the workers—although Khor avoids easy answers and does not reconstruct history. Auntie Po is a commentator on the situation as much as an influencer of it.

We also see the two communities of European and Chinese immigrants and their descendants learning about and sometimes blending each other’s customs, foods, and stories, and we watch the foreman grappling with what it means to be an ally. Mei herself straddles the traditions of her father and the stories and possibilities of her new country. She also has a crush on the foreman’s daughter, Bee, and expressly says she is not interested in boys, though this is only one aspect of her story. The characters are multifaceted and humanly flawed, at times showing sparks of humor that lighten the tale. Khor’s soft watercolors show the expressiveness of the characters as well as details about life in the camp.

The rare setting, sympathetic characters, and thoughtfulness about the communities depicted, along with the captivating illustrations, make this a highly recommended read.

Meow or NeverMeow or Never, by Jazz Taylor, is part of Scholastic’s WISH line of “fun, engaging, books for kids 8-12 centered on family and friendship.” This book checks all those marks and gives us a queer, Black protagonist as well. Middle-schooler Avery is a great singer, but doesn’t like to sing in front of people and struggles with panic attacks. She has trouble making friends, but finds comfort in taking care of a stray cat backstage at her school’s theater. When her crush, Nic, overhears her singing one day, she convinces Avery to audition for the school play—and Avery gets the lead role. Can she overcome her fears, grow a new friendship with the student who wrote the play, and tell Nic how she feels? This is sweet and light story of romance and gaining self-confidence that doesn’t make a big deal of Avery’s attraction to other girls. Although she comes out to a few people in the course of the story, they pretty much knew anyway, so that’s not a focus of the plot. An ultimately cheery book that lands on a high note.

The Anti-BookCombine The Phantom TollboothA Series of Unfortunate Events, and Diary of a Wimpy Kid, and you might end up with a book like The Anti-Book (Dial Books), by gay dad Raphael Simon, better known as children’s author Pseudonymous Bosch. In this fantastical and funny tale, middle-schooler Mickey’s mom and dad are divorced, and each is now engaged to a woman, both of whom happen to be named Charlie. (All are presumed White.) If that wasn’t bad enough, his father teaches his Human Development class (“the last subject you would want your parent to teach”), and his annoying older sister is is dating a boy who constantly calls everything Mickey does “gay” (as a dis). Mickey wants all of them to “get lost.”

Mickey therefore follows the urging of an ad inside his pack of gum and orders a copy of The Anti-Book, a book for those who “wish everyone would go away.” When it arrives, Mickey follows the instruction “To erase it, write it.” He writes their names in the book and is soon free of parents, sister, school, and everything that bothered him. He quickly finds himself, however, fully in the anti-world, where things from his life reappear with strange twists. His sister is four inches tall, he’s advised by a tiny talking house with wings, and a mysterious shadowy boy looks strangely familiar. The boy advises him to visit the Bubble Gum King to help him sort things out and get back to the world he knows. But can he?

Clever, zany, and occasionally sophomoric (which may or may not be a selling point, depending on your tastes), the book also carries a powerful underlying message about discovering yourself and finding a sense of belonging. While Mickey’s sexual orientation is not the major part of his self-discovery here, the book does raise the question about whether he is in fact gay. Mickey isn’t sure, but leaves it an open question, which feels appropriate for his particular point in life and his current amount of self-awareness.

Occasional illustrations by Ben Scruton add to the tale, but this is not a picture book. It skews towards the younger end of the middle grade range, however.

And no, these aren’t the only queer-inclusive middle grade books to be published this year! Stay tuned for more!

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