Twelve-year-old figure skater Mars is grappling with the recent death of their father, who helped spark their passion for the ice, and regrets not having the chance to tell him they are nonbinary. They are only out to one friend, Libby, and not their mom. Additionally, although skating is their passion and they are a rising talent, at age 13, skaters must compete in gendered divisions. Mars knows the feminine skating style expected of them doesn’t really fit and wants to find a way to just be themselves. A challenge from a boy skater leads Mars to enter a competition as a boy, to see what that feels like.
When skating officials discover that Mars entered the competition under (as they see it) false pretenses, there is an uproar. Mars, along with a new crush and Libby, come up with a plan to create a more inclusive skating competition. Can they manage the logistics? And will anyone show up?
This is a thoughtful story about finding oneself while dealing with grief and social bias. Mars is not just at the mercy of these struggles, however; they are confident, driven, and able to assert, “Every competition I win, I know I’ve earned.” They are still a seventh-grader, though, dealing with a recent loss and figuring out how to share who they are with the people around them. Debut author Caroline Huntoon strikes a nice balance between creating a strong character and giving them relatable vulnerabilities. They also weave in details about skating, both technical and organizational, which should delight fans of the sport and intrigue others. I also appreciate that Huntoon has found a way to create a positive but reasonably realistic ending, despite the current fraught situation across the country for transgender and nonbinary athletes.
Comparisons will likely be made to A. J. Sass’ excellent middle-grade novel, Ana on the Edge, which is also about a nonbinary figure skater with a single mom. Each is a different story, however—Ana hasn’t even thought about the idea of being nonbinary when that tale opens, whereas Mars knows who they are and is simply trying to figure out what it means for them. There’s no reason not to read both! Skating on Mars reminds me a little, too, of Ronnie Riley’s Jude Saves the World, which isn’t about skating but, like Skating on Mars, involves a nonbinary 12-year-old trying to create an inclusive space for queer people and others with the help of friends and supportive adults. Ultimately, though, it is its own story, and it’s a good one.
