Something Great … is simply great! It gives us a queer protagonist (specifically, a nonbinary child) in a story of STEM thinking, creativity, friendship, and believing in yourself that refreshingly is not “about” their queer identity. Warm and charming illustrations help make this a winning read.
Quinn, a young nonbinary child, has created Something Great in their workshop. It might look like a plastic half-gallon milk bottle on a string, but to Quinn, it’s something that can swing, spin, and even sing (as they blow air across the top). Their sister and mother don’t understand, however. What is it supposed to be? To Quinn, however, “it wasn’t supposed to be anything. It was just . . . itself. Something Great.” Undeterred, Quinn continues to discover all the things it can do, like glow with rainbow light or cast shadows of things placed inside.
A new child in the neighborhood asks to play with it, too, and together she and Quinn find even more uses for Something Great—like a pulley, an elevator, a beat keeper, and a bug catcher. It could even be … a friend finder (but I won’t spoil things by telling you how).
Author/illustrator Jeanette Bradley keeps the text delightfully simple and direct, letting her mixed-media illustrations convey much of the characters’ feelings. Quinn has a round face, expressive eyes, and an undercut. They also wear jeans, pink slip-on shoes, and a button-up shirt with a pattern that careful readers will realize is graph paper—a texture Bradley also subtly uses in the background of some scenes, reinforcing the idea that there is science and engineering pervading our world and ourselves, should we only take the time to notice. The STEM lessons here are gentle, though, showing rather than telling about the forces and principles at work. When Quinn swings Something Great in a circle around them, for example, Bradley shows a swath of planets and stars in its path. (See more about the science behind the book in this video from the publisher.)
At the same time, elements of some scenes, notably the trees, are made of strips of text cut from classic children’s books, perhaps hinting at the stories in all that surrounds us. (As someone whose interests have always straddled the science/humanities divide, I personally love this combination of themes.)
There’s a lesson here, too, about those who want to figure out what something is “supposed to be,” versus those who are comfortable not labeling it, focusing instead on what it can do and the delight it brings. It makes sense that Quinn, a nonbinary child, is frustrated with those who want to label Something Great and is happy simply exploring its possibilities. We need more books with nonbinary and other LGBTQ characters that aren’t “about” being LGBTQ (since we already have a number that are), but that nevertheless feel like they authentically represent the way that LGBTQ people may move in the world. Add Something Great enthusiastically to this list.
Quinn is White and their new friend has light brown skin and dark brown hair.
Bradley was kind enough to share with me (and you!) a little about her inspiration and influences.
