There is something uniquely magical about being able to see yourself in a book — not necessarily your entire existence, but bits and pieces that make up the whole of a person. For queer readers, science fiction and fantasy have long been a refuge, even when the stories weren’t about us. We could imagine universes filled with magic and adventure, swords and shields, dragons and other beasties that let us escape the real world, at least for a little while.
As a child, I was a voracious reader, inhaling anything and everything I could get my hands on. It didn’t matter if it was fiction or nonfiction, or if it was technically too advanced for me. All I knew was that, by putting certain words in a certain order, authors could make me feel some kind of way and to me, that was (and still is) magic. I told myself that if I grew up to do what those authors did — transport readers, make them laugh and cry and cheer and lament — I would do it with people like me front and center. I’m very lucky that I became an adult who does just that.
Even better? I’m not the only one. There are so many wonderful fantasy authors who’ve written queer people as the heroes, as the villains and as everything in between. Here are a few of my favorites — some from decades past, and others much more recent.
Luck in the Shadows
by Lynn Flewelling
Imagine, if you will: You’re a teenager in the 1990s, and the idea of seeing queer characters in any sort of book where they aren’t there to teach their straight counterparts a Very Valuable Lesson is unheard-of. Then, in 1996, Lynn Flewelling writes a fantasy novel where the two main characters — both male — find adventure and love? With each other?!
“Luck in the Shadows” was that book, and it broke my brain.
The Nightrunner series includes seven novels and some short stories, but this first book is nestled most deeply in my heart. While imprisoned for a crime he did not commit, Alec meets a roguish thief named Seregil and agrees to become his apprentice, in exchange for help escaping. Their adventures that follow are top-tier fantasy, with immaculate world-building, magic and intrigue. But what makes the book — and the series — so special is the slow, gorgeous development of the relationship between the two men.
This is not a romance novel as we would define it today: Alec and Seregil’s love story is so subtle that, if you’re not paying attention, you could miss it. But for a queer kid in rural Oregon, it was everything. I could see the hope and joy blossoming in key moments between Alec and Seregil, even when the story got dark. I’m not one to dwell on the so-called halcyon days of youth but I will never forget this book, or the world Flewelling created.
You might also like the “Six of Crows” and “Crooked Kingdom,” by Leigh Bardugo.
The God Eaters
by Jesse Hajicek
This groundbreaking novel follows Kieran and Ashleigh, two young men at odds with the world around them. We meet Kieran, a gunslinger, as a child when he kills a boy who bullied him and watch as he transforms into a Clyde Barrow-like outlaw alongside his partner — maybe in more than just crime — Shan. After Shan dies, Kieran is captured and sent to the infamous Churchrock prison where he meets Ashleigh, a young intellectual imprisoned for “inflammatory writings.”
Hajicek is a master of world-building, and his descriptions of Churchrock were how I knew I’d found a book worth treasuring. The prison is grimy, awful and completely immersive. The wardens treat the prisoners like lab rats, probing to see if any of them are Talents: people with illegal magical abilities, such as telekinesis or pyrokinesis, on whom they can experiment. There is, of course, an ultimate baddie who — as the book’s title suggests — is bent on consuming the powers of others.
I could feel the dirt underneath my fingernails and the hot desert wind blowing across my face as Ashleigh and Kieran plotted their brazenly daring breakout, which is one of the most exciting sequences I’ve ever read. After their escape, the world of the book opens up and their story becomes one of survival — and of queer love.
The novel was self-published in 2006 and can be hard to find; the paperbacks are a little pricey, and very few retailers carry the e-book. However, if you chance upon it, don’t hesitate. Hajicek’s prose is lush and vibrant, and the story he has crafted is both unapologetically queer and unafraid to tackle some seriously dark topics we don’t often see on the page.
You might also like the Cadeleonian series, by Ginn Hale.
Silver in the Wood
by Emily Tesh
Good writing makes me smile. Great writing gives me goose bumps. And exceptional writing ignites an insatiable urge to figure out how such things are possible.
“Silver in the Wood,” the first volume in the Greenhollow duology, falls into that last category. As someone whose entire life is built around the written word, I’m in awe of Tesh’s craft, and of her ability to pack so much into so little space. This book clocks in at just over 100 pages; its sequel, “Drowned Country,” is only slightly longer at 160. Writing a novel is much easier than writing a novella, at least for me, and to pack so much wonder and emotion into a story I can read in one sitting feels like a minor miracle.
Tobias, our mythical Wild Man hero, is content living in a small woodland cottage with only the trees, his cat and the dryads for company — until Henry, the handsome new owner of Greenhollow Hall, shows up and upends his carefully constructed solitude. The beating heart of this story is about how roots can be constricting when one dreams of being untethered. Tesh also taps into an inexplicably queer yearning to go into the forest and find love and magic. I can’t tell you how many L.G.B.T.Q. people that rings true for, but I have to assume I’m not the only one. I moved to the woods a couple of years ago, but I have yet to find a mountain man. Hopefully, that will change in the near future.
You might also like the Singing Hills Cycle, by Nghi Vo.
The Tainted Cup
by Robert Jackson Bennett
I don’t do social media, other than an Instagram account on which I rarely post. But I do have a secret Reddit account. I never comment, post or upvote others, and if I see my own name mentioned on a book sub, I avoid that post like the plague. I have this account because I’ve learned over the years that Reddit is one of the best places to get recommendations for books, and horror movies, that I might otherwise miss.
Last year, r/fantasy was abuzz with the release of “The Tainted Cup.” I’d never heard of the book or its author, but if so many people were going crazy over it, I figured I should see what all the fuss was about.
Have you ever experienced the joy of reading a book by an author, falling in love and then discovering that they’ve been publishing for years and have written many more books for you to devour? God, I love that feeling. And I got to have it with Robert Jackson Bennett.
Like an endearing fantasy version of “Knives Out,” “The Tainted Cup” follows an eccentric detective named Ana Dolabra and her new assistant, Dinios Kol — a disaster bisexual if there ever was one. When an imperial officer is found dead with a tree growing from his body, the duo are put on the case. Dinios has been magically imbued with a perfect memory, which is great for investigating crime scenes — especially since his boss does not leave the confines of her home and wears a blindfold at all times. A great murder mystery is hard to pull off but Bennett structures his perfectly, and the fact that it’s in a fantasy setting only makes it better. The best news? The sequel was just released.
You might also like “A Master of Djinn,” by P. Djèlí Clark.
The Free People’s Village
by Sim Kern
I don’t remember where I came across “The Free People’s Village” — most likely on a list like this one of queer speculative fiction. But I do know it sounded punk rock (literally) and had a rad cover, so I decided to take a chance on it. I’m so happy I did.
Set in an alternate version of 2020 where Al Gore won the 2000 presidential election and declared a war on climate change, the book follows Maddie, a white Houston schoolteacher by day and punk rock guitarist by night, as she becomes involved with Save the Eighth, a group of predominantly Black residents fighting against inequality and gentrification of the city’s Eighth Ward. This is not a feel-good book: It’s not supposed to be. But it is a gripping exploration of privilege, found family and what it takes for people to rise up against immense power and stand for what’s right, even when it seems impossibly hard.
Great fiction, even the most wildly speculative, shines a light on the real world. Not only does “The Free People’s Village” nail this, but it also reminds us that no one — not even the best and strongest of us — can make things better alone. Real change doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time and people willing to do the work.
You might also like “Chain-Gang All-Stars,” by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah.
The post These Queer Fantasy Novels Make TJ Klune Feel Seen appeared first on New York Times.
