Let’s catch up with some of the LGBTQ-inclusive middle grade novels that have come out (!) since the start of summer. They bring us an original twist on a magic school, time travel, monsters, baby-sitters, and more, as they explore personal growth, friendships, and what it means to be a family.
Click titles or images for my full reviews!
Spindlewood, by Freddie Kölsch, illustrated by Jay Bendt (Balzer & Bray): Lilac may live in Salem, Massachusetts with her two married-to-each-other uncles (whom “she considered to be her parents”) and grandmother, but she believes in science and math, not ghosts. She assumes that Uncle Bell is faking the séances he conducts. When he has trouble during one séance, however, she pretends that she’s heard a spirit’s message. Her uncles mistakenly think she is displaying the secret family talent for communicating with spirits, and want to enroll her in the Spindlewood School of Seeing.
The book flips the “chosen one at a magic school” trope on its head, however, to give us a protagonist who seems to be the only one not chosen. Despite her lack of Seeing talent, however, Lilac is clever and resourceful, and readers will likely root for her as she navigates her varied challenges. The storyline tackles classic middle-grade themes like social dynamics and self-discovery, while also it thoughtfully explores grief and its effects, wrapping it all in a satisfyingly twisty plot. Kölsch paints a compelling picture of the school and its denizens, human and ghostly, adding in an occasional omniscient and slightly stuffy narrator to define some words and hint at mysteries to come.
See my full review for more on the book and its queer representation, which goes beyond Lilac’s uncles. The spooky school setting evokes other queer-inclusive titles like Deephaven and Labyrinth of Souls, with an occasional touch reminiscent of Lemony Snicket. It’s a highly recommended title and the start of a promising duology.
The Travelers, by Greg Howard (Nancy Paulsen): Twelve-year-old Ben Turner’s mother has just died unexpectedly, sending him from his known life in Nashville, Tennessee to a small town in South Carolina, under the care of a grandmother he’s never met. His stern grandmother has some odd rules for life in her creepy mansion full of clocks, each displaying different times: never reset the clocks, and never go up to the third floor.
Readers will immediately surmise that this is exactly what Ben will do. Together with two new friends, he begins to uncover the secrets of the house—secrets that are bound closely to his own family history. It’s not too much of a spoiler to say that this involves time travel (the book blurb refers to “something to do with the very fabric of time itself”), but I’ll avoid revealing further details.
Ben is also gay, and confidently so. He develops a crush that isn’t a major part of the plot but forms a steady undercurrent. The story blends an atmospheric mystery and adventure with a thoughtful exploration of intergenerational hurt, grief, healing, and family both chosen and (re)found. Twists and options at the end should make this recommended book even more engaging and thought-provoking for young readers.
Content warning: Ben’s mother died from a drug overdose related to painkiller addiction.
Middle School Monsters, by Robin Easter (Little, Brown Ink): Seventh-grader Jamie is hiding her werewolf nature from classmates at her new school, afraid that they’ll make fun of her for her hairy legs, intense emotions, and general difference, like the kids at her old school. She finds new friends among a group of three girls, although it becomes clear that she doesn’t have much in common with them. When they warn her about goth Vera, who is rumored to be a vampire and shunned by the other students, Jamie wonders if Vera, a “monster” like herself, would actually understand her better.
Their budding friendship is challenged, however, and Jamie must figure out whether fitting in is more important than being true to herself and her real friend. Spoiler: It’s not—but author Robin Easter perceptively explores Jamie’s path to this realization, mixing keen observations with a touch of humor, and always treating Jamie and Vera’s monstrous identities with respect.
Neither Jamie nor Vera is explicitly queer in the sense of LGBTQ, although they are in the sense of being odd or nonconformist. Queer youth should find much in the story that resonates with them, however (and there’s nothing to indicate that Jamie and Vera are not LGBTQ); given Easter’s own nonbinary identity, this feels intentional. (One secondary character, Peyton, is clearly nonbinary and uses all pronouns.) At the same time, the story should resonate with youth who feel like monsters for any number of reasons, LGBTQ identities or otherwise.
The monster metaphor gives this tale of friendship, growing up, and navigating middle school an original spark, while the real-life setting makes it highly relatable. Easter’s illustrations emphasize spooky reds, purples, and bold black lines, and work with the dialog to effectively show us the characters’ emotions, said and unsaid. All told, it’s a highly recommended title.
The Baby-Sitters Club Fan Edition: Baby-Sitter Summer, by Ann M. Martin et al. (Scholastic): The Baby-Sitters Club series began with author Ann M. Martin’s first volume in 1986 and has spawned dozens of sequels and spinoffs, plus television and film adaptations. This “fan edition” was collectively written by Martin and six other authors, including Becky Albertalli, whose other works include the young adult titles Imogen, Obviously, a Stonewall Honor Book, and Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (the basis for the film Love, Simon), among other queer-inclusive books. If you suspect that there might be queer inclusion in Baby-Sitter Summer, you’d be right.
And yes, one character, Kristy, comes out as queer, through a crush on new character Rowan. It is perhaps not surprising that Kristy, long a softball-playing tomboy in the series, evolves in this direction, although the book tries to balance that stereotype by specifying that Rowan doesn’t like sports. The story handles Kristy’s dawning realization that she “might like Rowan as more than a friend” with a light and positive touch, and avoids immediate labels, which feels right for Kristy’s stage of awareness.
Although Kristy does some internal searching about whether she likes girls, there is no sense that she is worried about homophobia or negative reactions from family or friends. Indeed, when her friends do find out about Rowan, they are completely unfazed and happy for her. That seems in keeping with the upbeat vibe of the series. The Baby-Sitters Club series has been a touchstone for several generations of young people, and it makes sense that this latest volume continues to show the friends’ identities and experiences reflecting those of their readers, making this a recommended title.
Finding My Spark, by Isabelle Jameson, illustrated by Sylvain Cabot (Orca): This middle-grade picture book follows Alex, a tween who was assigned female at birth but is gradually coming to realize he is really a boy.
The best part of this book is the unquestioning support that it shows from everyone around Alex. Unrealistic? Perhaps, unfortunately. But not every story about trans youth has to involve disbelief and rejection. Alex’s concerns about how people may react to his true gender hint at some of the biases trans youth may face; the story isn’t denying that. But it shows both youth and their adults the power of support and love. (And yes, there should also be stories that help trans youth navigate rejection, but not every story needs to do so.)
I have one concern about a small aspect of one illustration (see my full review), but it’s not a showstopper, just something readers should be aware of. Overall, this is a positive story with an important message about familial, school, and peer support.
And yes, this is a picture book, although Alex’s age and the mention of puberty changes mark it as a middle grade title. (Adults can decide if Finding My Spark feels right for their younger children; I’d recommend starting with Calvin and Born Ready: The True Story of a Boy Named Penelope instead, if only because the protagonists are younger and more likely to resonate with younger readers.)
Translated from the French (Dans la nuit, tu te dévoiles) by Ann Marie Boulanger.