Does listening to audiobooks count as reading? Here it does. Let’s discuss your favorite reads — or listens.
All tagged lgbt
Greg Marshall wasn't diagnosed with cerebral palsy until he was 30 — despite a lifetime of surgeries, a limp and parents who knew all along. "Leg" is funnier than it has any right to be given its raw material, occasionally recalling early Sedaris, and sneaks up on you with genuine emotional weight by the end.
I came into Rasheed Newson's sophomore novel with high expectations after his electric debut. The Golden Age Hollywood premise delivers, with real-life cameos, studio system intrigue and a fixer with the era's most interesting vantage point. But the urgency that propelled his previous novel only arrives in the final third.
I judged "The Fantasies of Future Things" by its cover and went in expecting a queer love story. What Doug Jones is actually writing is far more political and ambitious — a gentrification novel using the 1996 Atlanta Olympics as a litmus test for Black progress. Uneven but worth it. A debut that bit off almost more than it could chew.
RuPaul's memoir is part origin story, part philosophy manifesto — and at its best when he finally drops the motivational-speaker polish. The hustle is real, the narration is excellent and the final chapters are genuinely moving. But the warmth that makes him so compelling on TV occasionally softens the harder truths this story deserved.
A queer basketball novel set in the early 2000s should've been a slam dunk. Instead, "A Sharp Endless Need" squanders a brilliant first chapter and a timely premise on repetitive teen self-destruction tropes that clash with everything we're told about these characters.
Edward Cahill's debut novel follows three very different men caught in the same pre-Stonewall police raid — a Wall Street banker, a Columbia professor and an Irish kid from the Bronx with nothing left to lose. A character study disguised as a mystery, with strong writing but some issues with pacing and repetition.
Douglas Stuart's third novel returns to familiar Scottish working-class terrain — religion, repression, queer identity and small-town suffocation — but with a maturity and balance that makes it his most nuanced work yet. A slow-burning character study built around sacrifice, self-destruction and a confrontation between two people who know exactly where to cut.
Patricia Highsmith's landmark 1952 lesbian novel is radical in its courage but punishing in its pacing. Carol's opacity is the central problem and a single letter shows what the novel could've been.
Grant Ginder's multi-decade friendship novel is funny, honest and quietly devastating — a sharper, more literary take on the terrain Steven Rowley covers.
One of the more interesting side effects of reading the entire “Game Changers” series straight through is that you stop thinking about the books individually and start thinking about the relationships as if they exist in the same ongoing world. Here’s my take on the best couples in the series and if they’ll make it to their tenth anniversary.
This is not my genre. I don’t read a lot of MM romance, and I definitely don’t seek out books where I know there are going to be extended, explicit sex scenes. I usually find them awkward at best and unintentionally funny at worst. And yet, after finishing the show a second time and immediately diving into Rachel Reid’s “Game Changers” series, devouring the books —plus the bonus content on her blog – in about two weeks.
I came to Rachel Reid’s “Game Changers” series backwards – starting with the TV adaptation of “Heated Rivalry” and then working my way through the books and every piece of bonus content I could find. What started as curiosity quickly turned into a full two-week binge. Here’s my take on the world Rachel Reid created and Jacob Tierney perfected.
The first half may test some readers’ patience. The characters can be a little grating and the story wanders. But if you stick with it, the back half becomes something much more endearing and honest.
Often labeled feminist horror, the book’s sharpest menace isn’t supernatural but social: rigid expectations around marriage, reputation, and female behavior, and the quiet normalization of violence against women. That tension works well early on, grounding the protagonist’s unraveling in her environment.
I still had a few annoyances, but they felt minor because the overall tone is charming in Marvin and Olan’s love story. This is a low-stakes romance that doesn’t pretend to be anything else. I’m still not ready to say I “read M/M romance” as a genre category, but this was a good test case of what works for me and what doesn’t.
This book may be a pioneer, but I don’t think it’s essential gay reading – not unless you’re interested in a very specific, very dated form of self-loathing filtered through ornate language.
“True True” is far more entertaining than its dust-jacket suggests, and it’s absolutely worth the time. It exceeded my expectations and, like last year’s winner “James,” suggests the National Book Award isn’t afraid of honoring a novel that’s broadly appealing without being shallow.
Chuck Tingle’s “Lucky Day” blends gore, grief and cultural critique into absurdist horror that’s unsettling, chaotic and surprisingly moving.
In this bold and imaginative novel, Bob the Drag Queen reimagines the legendary abolitionist as a returning historical figure determined to tell her story on stage. With help from a once-famous hip-hop producer, Tubman creates a Broadway-style musical that blends history and humor. Packed with sharp writing, emotional depth and two original songs, this audiobook is a powerful mix of speculative fiction and accessible historical storytelling.
Set in early 2000s Seattle, “Gaysians” follows a newly out gay man who finds belonging in a tight-knit group of queer Asian friends. With bold, disco-inspired art and themes of identity, racism and resilience, Mike Curato delivers a heartfelt, funny and emotionally rich graphic novel. Perfect for fans of “Flamer” or readers seeking queer stories that center joy as much as struggle.
