Does listening to audiobooks count as reading? Here it does. Let’s discuss your favorite reads — or listens.
All tagged lgbt
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.
This is a novel about space, yes, but it’s also about constraints. What it means to want something enormous, only to realize you may have to make yourself smaller to reach it. About what it means to live within institutions that weren’t built for you.
If you’re looking for a quick, affirming read with queer representation, a strong voice and a refreshingly gentle tone, “Here” is a great way to spend an afternoon.
“Bad Gays” starts with a provocative thesis: queer history is too often told through sanitized narratives of heroism and progress. What happens, Huw Lemmey and Ben Miller ask, when we shift the lens to those queer figures who were not brave icons, but bigots, fascists, abusers or simply complicated people making morally gray choices in a hostile world?
Some novels feel like memoirs, not because they’re confessional, but because they pulse with lived-in truth. “Bad Habit,” Alana S. Portero’s autofictional debut, is one of those books.
“Tell Me How to Be” isn’t perfect. It’s sometimes overwrought, and Akash will test your sympathy, but it’s also culturally honest without pandering and willing to sit in discomfort. It shows real growth from Patel’s earlier work and enough promise to make me want to see what he does next.
“Bolla” isn’t a book you’ll want to live in for long. It offers no comfort, no catharsis, only the slow, painful truth that repression – personal or political – rarely leaves survivors.
“Somewhere Beyond the Sea” wants to be a beacon, but it ends up an echo of what made “The House in the Cerulean Sea” so beloved. It wants to offer the inclusive magic Rowling won’t, and for some readers, that alone may be enough. But intent doesn’t equal impact. The message may still shine through, but the journey is far less enchanting than before.
This novella has solidified my disinterest in Burroughs and, perhaps, in the Beat Generation as a whole. As for the film adaptation, I’ll take a pass – I’ve given this story enough of my time.
From the Obergefell ruling to the Pulse nightclub massacre, “Party” captures the emotional and political climate of a pivotal year for the LGBTQ+ community. The novel questions the expectations placed on modern gay men, contrasts different generational perspectives and resists a tidy resolution, embodying the complexity and contradictions of queer existence in a post-modern world.
