Pride-Friendly Fiction
I’ve been riding the “time has no meaning” train for… well, an amount of time. But June has flown by even by my loose standards, and with it, Pride Month is rapidly drawing to a close.
Before it ends, I thought I’d drop some of the best LGBTQ+ fiction I’ve enjoyed since last June as a casual list of recommendations.
The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir: I tore through these three books this past spring, and I can see why they have a die-hard fandom. All the space necromancy and body horror is broken up quite nicely with really cutting dialogue and sexual tension like a hammer to the head. These books do not follow anything remotely resembling a traditional romance (they’re a bit busy with the horror, undead, futuristic religious dogma, and Noodle the dog), but love is love, even among stars and a whole lot of bodies.
The Owl House: I recently finished up this series, and gosh did it pull off a strong ending. While Gravity Falls, another modern Disney favorite, starts great and never dips, The Owl House started as a very good show, achieved greatness around the end of the first season, and never looked back. The protagonist, Luz, is the first canonically bisexual character I can remember seeing in a “kids” series (I use the term loosely, YA might be a better fit,) and the casual support she receives from everyone around her is truly heartwarming. And the show’s three-part finale reminded me of the best parts of Avatar the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra. If you enjoy animation at all, you should check this one out.
The Birdcage: This isn’t a recent entry, but it’s a classic for a reason. This 1996 film starring Robin Williams as a drag club owner and Nathan Lane as his partner/superstar who try to pass themselves off as a “normal” family for their son’s future in-laws. Robin Williams usually plays over-the-top characters, but in this film he’s mostly the comedic straight man (a gay straight man, this film’s working on that level,) and watching him try NOT to have a big reaction is half the fun of the movie. Nathan Lane is also terrific, from his John Wayne impersonation to his attempt at conservative-friendly political small talk. And while the story is about hiding and blending in, the message is very inclusive and affirming of Williams and Lane’s family. And it’s a riot. Give it a watch.
Life is Strange True Colors: I wrote about this one a little while back, but it bears repeating: this is a fun, inclusive game. Where the other entries in the series are mostly focused on averting disaster, a lot of this entry’s gameplay revolves around moving past trauma and building a new life. Protagonist Alex Chen has two main love interests, Stephanie, the LARPing DJ, and Ryan, the Troubled Park Ranger. This is another story where an LGBTQ+ romance is treated as charmingly commonplace. Representation means seeing your identity in fiction, and there’s a lot of value in that identity appearing in a story without being played for drama or tragedy. Alex is Alex, and the game is better for it.
The Last of Us TV Series: It’s here, and it IS emotionally devastating. This show tells some great love stories of all stripes, but it’s also a post-apocalyptic show, so be prepared for some heartbreak.
The Great Cities Series by NK Jemisin: This is currently a two-book series (The City We Became and The World We Make) focused on people chosen to represent the Burroughs of New York as they fight against eldritch horrors trying to destroy humanity. It’s fun urban fantasy (and the audiobooks are DYNAMITE), but it makes this list because it the grand evil that the cast faces tend to hide behind everyday cruelty: racism, homophobia, xenophobia, and general human crappiness. There are many LGBTQ+ characters in the series, and they fight back against the terrors (human and not) by building communities and making their voices heard, just as activists have always done. And sometimes there’s a King Kong.
In a world still bafflingly full of homophobia and censorship, I think we all owe it to ourselves to read, watch, and listen to the kind of stories that would make Proud Boys or Moms4Liberty tear their hair out. Stories matter, and so does sharing them. And while supporting human rights shouldn’t be a subversive act, if it has to be, it might as well be fun, too.