When the creator of a major magical franchise continues to promote anti-trans rhetoric, while another magical entertainment provider offers lukewarm opposition to an anti-LGBTQ bill and allegedly nixes much LGBTQ content in its films, I think we need some fantastical, visually stunning, action-packed, queer-inclusive movies to help counter this. Here are some great middle grade books, all by queer authors, that could serve as starting points.
I have no insider information about whether movie plans are in progress for any of the books below, but I sure hope they are. In the meantime, I hope you’ll read the novels and share them widely with middle-graders you know. (Many are also suitable as read-alouds for younger children and may also appeal to teens and adults.)
The Lock-Eater, by Zack Loran Clark (Dial Books): Clark creates a world imbued with many of the fantasy tropes we love and expect, while also blending them into something wholly original and new. Melanie Gate, the orphan protagonist, has a mysterious talent for opening any lock. She ends up on the run with a gearling automaton (sort of a steampunk robot) that has mysteries of its own, fleeing powerful forces seeking her for their own ends. Along the way, she develops a crush on another girl (and ignores advice to take off the boys’ jacket she wears and put on “gender-appropriate clothing.”)
The gearlings cry out for on-screen portrayal; a land of frog people, a magical forest, and flying griffins would also dazzle. Woven throughout the action, however, are surprisingly touching themes about finding oneself (and what it even means to have a self), chosen family, the perils of power, and the difficulties of achieving peace. Full review.
Cameron Battle and the Hidden Kingdoms, by Jamar J. Perry (Bloomsbury USA). Inspired by West African and Igbo history and mythology, this book also has many of the beats of classic fantasy stories (an orphan who just might save the world; a forbidden object; a portal to a secret realm; a trio of friends), but also offers a Black protagonist, worldbuilding rooted in Black culture, and a queer romance—not items unique to this story, but still all too rare in literature generally. Cameron and his friend Zion also have obvious romantic feelings for each other, although that is not a focus of the plot.
There are clear parallels to the Black Panther movies, but enough differences to feel original, though the popularity of the former could help a Cameron Battle movie succeed as well (and is, I hope, already helping the books). Full review.
The Strangeworlds Travel Agency and The Edge of the Ocean, by L. D. Lapinski (Aladdin). Twelve-year-old Flick Hudson isn’t excited about her working-class family’s move from the city to a small English village. Her parents are busy with long hours at their jobs and caring for her younger brother. One day, however, Flick stumbles into the Strangeworlds Travel Agency, which houses a collection of suitcases that are portals to other worlds. The overseer of the Strangeworlds Society is eccentric, sarcastic 18-year-old Jonathan Mercator, who discovers Flick’s own latent magical abilities and enlists her to help find his lost father. Yet all is not well in the multiverse. Buildings and streets in its central city are disappearing. And if Flick can’t fix the problem, it might collapse into nothingness—taking her own world with it.
In the second volume, Flick and Jonathan respond to an urgent summons from Pirate Queen Nyfe from the oceanic world of the Break, where ships—and parts of the world itself—are mysteriously disappearing at an alarming rate. The danger threatens both the pirates and the mermaids of the world, although both also seem bent on fighting each other. Can Flick and Jonathan (and Jonathan’s visiting cousin Avery) find a way to save all the inhabitants?
For those who love a British flavor (or rather, flavour) to their stories, this series is a sure bet. Flick and Jonathan make a fun duo, not always agreeing but gradually coming to value their friendship. In both books, Jonathan is subtly cued as transgender (e.g., with references to someone who “thought I was a girl” and to him wearing a binder), and author L. D. Lapinski has confirmed this, but his trans identity is incidental to the plot. Flick and Avery are also developing crushes on each other. With a multiverse of worlds to depict, plus pirates, mermaids, and any number of other quirky characters, this series also cries out for screen adaptation. Full reviews: Volume 1; Volume 2. [Updated to include: Volume 3 and A Very Strangeworlds Christmas.]
Zachary Ying and the Dragon Emperor, Xiran Jay Zhao (Margaret K. McElderry Books): Mythology meets technology in this amusing and action-packed novel about a Chinese American boy named Zack who finds himself the unexpected host to the spirit of China’s First Emperor (communicating through Zack’s AR headset), and sent on a mission to plug a leaking portal to the underworld and save China from disaster. There are also hints that Zack is gay, a thread that I assume will be picked up in the (fairly obvious) sequel.
There is action aplenty here from heists, battles, chase scenes, and showdowns. Beings from legend appear in AR data streams, while Zack also starts to control his newfound powers by learning all he can about Chinese myths and history. In more reflective moments, Zack ponders his intersecting identities and his place among them. There’s a lot of humor here as well (chapter titles include “How to Get Superpowers by Reading Wikipedia” and “How to Scam the Ancient Chinese Justice League”). Fun and full of spectacle, this would be a natural story for the screen. Zachary Ying and the Dragon Emperor comes out May 10, but is available for preorder. Full review.
Dragon Pearl and Tiger Honor (the Thousand Worlds series), Yoon Ha Lee (Rick Riordan Presents/Disney-Hyperion): Here, Korean mythology meets space opera. The first volume stars 13-year-old Min, who comes from a long line of fox spirits. Min wants to escape her poor, backwater world to join the Space Forces, following her older brother Jun’s footsteps. When news arrives that Jun is suspected of deserting his post to go in search of the mythical Dragon Pearl, however, Min (who feels like a combination of Luke Skywalker and Loki) runs away to find the truth. Taking on the identity of a male cadet killed in battle (fox spirits can become any gender), she uses her magic as well as her mechanical skills to advance her quest. Among those who help her are a female dragon and a nonbinary goblin.
The second volume centers on Juhwang Sebin, a nonbinary 13-year-old with a martial upbringing who can shift between human and tiger spirit forms. Sebin’s dream is to join the Thousand World Space Forces and captain a battle cruiser like their Uncle Hwan. When Sebin finally gets accepted, however, they also learn that Hwan has been declared a traitor for hijacking a spaceship to steal the Dragon Pearl. Sebin must decide whether to try and clear Hwan’s name and risk being kicked out of the Space Forces, or to follow Force rules and risk becoming estranged from their family. Sebin is happily not the only nonbinary character, and such identities are seamlessly accepted.
Both volumes are set against the sweeping backdrop of both ancient myths and futuristic space travel—perfect for the screen. Since the books are published by part of the Disney conglomerate, I assume the House of Mouse has the movie rights locked up. Let’s just make it happen. Full reviews: Dragon Pearl; Tiger Honor.
Witchlings, by Claribel A. Ortega (Scholastic). Young witches being sorted? A town in our world, but full of magic? Three friends on a quest to fight an evil monster? That might sound familiar, but this novel also has a Latinx protagonist and queer inclusion, and draws on Ortega’s Dominican heritage. Many of the spells, for example have Spanish-derived names, e.g., “encantamiento terminado.” Several queer characters are seamlessly included, including one two-girl couple and a minor character who uses “they” pronouns.
While protagonist Seven Salazar isn’t clearly queer, I detected a hint she might have a crush on another girl, but that could be wishful thinking on my part; perhaps it will be developed more in a sequel. Seven does have a somewhat queer aesthetic, wearing a purple hoodie and combat boots along with her witches’ hat. Ortega has said, however, that the book is “for anyone who has felt they didn’t quite fit in, and who needs a bit of magic and friendship to learn to finally believe that they are wonderful, just as they are.” That’s a pretty queer angle in and of itself. Throw in a hefty dose of humor, plenty of monsters, toad racing, and a message about fighting against injustice, and you get a story that would be as fun and delightful on screen as it is on the page. Witchlings comes out April 5, but is available for preorder. Full review.
These are far from the only LGBTQ-inclusive middle-grade novels that deserve screen treatments. There are any number of other compelling ones set in the real world, for example (or adjacent worlds of magical realism)—and real-world representation is important. Most of the leading, long-run movie franchises, however (Harry Potter, Marvel, DC, Star Wars, Disney), have something fantastical about them, with worlds full of magic or technology indistinguishable from it. There’s no reason they can’t be full of queerness, too. For action, magic, and blockbuster potential (plus a chance of sequels), the queer-inclusive books above just might be a good place to start.
