This hi-lo (high interest-low reading level) middle grade novel centers a gay seventh-grader dealing with one of the hot-button issues of our time: book banning. Seth is an aspiring influencer, hoping his YouTube channel will lead him to success. His pronouns are he/him, but he loves wearing feminine blouses, eyeliner and lip gloss. Yes, some kids at school tease him, but his parents are supportive.
But while some think he is “too queer,” the other queer kid in school, Pluto, thinks he’s “not queer enough,” as Seth sees it. Pluto is a rainbow-flag wearing activist, while Seth doesn’t “do” politics; it doesn’t fit with his “brand” as a likeable gay kid. One day, however, Pluto lends Seth a copy of Heartstopper, by Alice Oseman. Seth is astonished to see a story with queer protagonists his age. “This is the first time I’ve seen myself in a book,” he marvels. He proposes to Pluto that they do a display of queer books in their school library for Pride Month.
The librarian agrees, although she’s also jut given her notice, fed up with growing restrictions on what books can be in school libraries. And they only find eight books, a mix of picture books, older titles, and a couple of somewhat more recent middle grade ones.
Still, it’s a start, and they make their display—until a girl from one of the most conservative families in town comes in and checks them all out, saying she won’t return them until they are banned from the shelves. The school administration is less than helpful. Seth finally decides to use his YouTube channel to talk about the experience (that’s not really a spoiler, as it’s in the publisher’s book blurb)—but that triggers a larger wave of opposition, including protests by conservative groups at the school. Seth and Pluto are blamed by the school, and Seth must decide whether to step away from the problem or keep speaking out. Adding complexity to all this is that despite their differences, Seth is developing a crush on Pluto.
The hi-lo book is intended for youth reading below grade level, for whom it feels perfect, but it’s an empowering read that might even have wider appeal, with lively dialogue and a fast-paced plot. And although I’ve long agitated for more books with queer protagonists that aren’t “about” being queer, there’s also a place for those that center queer-specific experiences—and I have a particular fondness for those that show queer youth working together. Although the book keeps the story simple (racial/ethnic representation is never mentioned, for example, although the cover shows one boy as White and the other as Black), it’s an engaging, timely, and recommended read.
The book is written in a dyslexia-friendly font, with cream paper and a larger trim size to increase accessibility.
