Lewis Hancox’s teen years were much like anyone else’s, filled with the typical high school drama, perpetual awkwardness, and desperation to fit in. For him, however, it seemed like there were extra hurdles to face, being a girl that had yet to discover that he was actually a boy. In Welcome to St. Hell, Hancox addresses his younger self to guide her through those messy years of hating her body, of being confused at who exactly she’s supposed to kiss, of constantly trying to pass as a “normal girl.” Being a typical teenager, the younger Hancox tries to ignore her older self at every turn but cannot deny that she feels like an alien in her own skin. What follows is a humorous, relatable, and down to Earth depiction of Hancox’s gender exploration and eventual acceptance, told in a way that educates just as much as it entertains.
Welcome to St. Hell’s story is refreshingly grounded, widening its appeal to every kind of audience. Though the author’s transness is the focal point, there are other elements and situations that distinguish Hancox’s experiences from coming solely from a trans standpoint. Anyone who has ever walked a high school hallway will relate to those feelings of just trying to survive that time while also making an identity that’s your own, or something close to it. We all face adversities when discovering who we are, and we all fumble along the way. Hancox utilizes these shared feelings within adolescence to illustrate his journey in a context that anyone can empathize with. This is also added by his inclusion of interviews he conducted with his family and friends, detailing their initial reactions to his coming out and how they came to support him. These interviews allow for a different perspective for both allies and trans youth, delivering moments of education in how to best conduct allyship and shedding light on the effects a coming out may have to both parties.
The one thing that may take some readers out of the comic is the heavy use of British slang, which can confuse those not familiar with it, though they may adapt once they find the comic’s rhythm.
Though it has its moments of heartache, Hancox’s story is ultimately one full of honesty, hope, and humor. Even the presence of Hancox’s older self brings the positivity of a future where trans youth survive and have fulfilling adult lives. While trauma and hardship are incredibly valid in one’s gender journey, a memoir that sets a more uplifting tone to a work of trans survival can bring about a great deal of affirmation in trans youths’ lives.
Matching the tone and feel of the comic perfectly, Hancox’s art style looks like it came right out of a teenager’s prized doodle book. At many points, it reminded me of a lot of different zines, though mainly due to its mostly four panel per page structure and black and white color. The art style lends itself to a lot of great, funny expressions, my favorite being Hancox’s big eyebrows that cover a range of emotions all on their own. It is not an overly ornate comic, sticking more to simple character designs and backgrounds, but will appeal to those who prefer more cartoon-like art and less busy panels.
As the memoir is split between Hancox’s high school and college years, there are some mature topics that come into play, such as alcohol use, gender dysphoria, and eating disorders, and includes some brief moments of cartoony nudity and one use of the T slur. Scholastic has given this graphic novel an age rating of 14-18, which is appropriate given the content listed above, though I’m sure college students may be able to relate to the second half as well. Welcome to St. Hell is best for those looking for representative trans comics, whether as a trans youth looking for validating experiences, especially from trans men, or an ally looking to educate themselves on trans matters. I highly recommend this title to librarians and educators aiming to include a good variety of trans works into their graphic novel collections in terms of tone and depictions.
Welcome to St. Hell: My Trans Teen Misadventure By Lewis Hancox Scholastic GRAPHIX, 2022 ISBN: 9781338824445
Publisher Age Rating: 14-18
NFNT Age Recommendation: Older Teen (16-18), Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: British, Trans , Eating Disorder
As more books with trans characters are published, the scope of what a trans life looks like in print is expanding. It’s not all about coming out or transitioning but exploring relationships and why one person is attracted to another. Cheer Up! Love and Pom Poms examines these issues while drawing distinct personalities for its two main characters. It’s also a light, fun, high school sports graphic novel about teens falling for each other and supporting one another when things are tough.
We are introduced to Annie as she and her mom are in the principal’s office at school. Annie is smart, but also aggressive, dismissive, sarcastic and does not get along with anyone else at the school. The principal and her mom want her to find a club or team to participate in. Annie’s mom used to do cheer and she challenges her daughter’s preconceptions about what being a cheerleader is all about. As Annie rushes out of the office in anger, she bumps into Beatrice, who is putting up cheer tryout posters. Annie immediately blames Beatrice for her troubles. Having Annie and Beatrice at odds sets up the central conflict early in the book.
We find out that Beatrice recently transitioned and is on her second year on the cheer squad. Annie reluctantly tries out while Beatrice is voted to be squad captain. Her first act as captain is to advocate that Annie join the squad even though others dislike Annie, because everyone deserves a second chance. Annie and Beatrice start training together and grow closer over the course of the book, rekindling their old friendship and examining their new feelings. It is not a typical romance as Beatrice isn’t sure which gender she is attracted to and questions why Annie likes her. Does she like that she was once a boy or does she like her for who she is now? Beatrice must also confront the fact that she is included in cheer and other activities because she is a token trans person, not necessarily because they like her. Annie and Beatrice confront these issues together and help the other cheer girls understand why their tokenism isn’t right. Of course the story ends at prom with some drama and a happy ending.
Crystal Frasier creates a light, fun sports comic that touches on some dark issues but resolves them neatly, so we get a positive, inclusive ending. Fans of Check, Please! and Heartstopper will likely enjoy the sweet, queer romance here. The art by Val Wise is clean and lively. Each character is easy to differentiate and a variety of body types and sizes lends the story some realism while keeping things light. The vibrant coloring also helps here. These stories tend to lean heavily on cis men as their villains and this book is not an exception. A more nuanced approach to what brings dramatic tension would be welcome.
Most public libraries will want to carry this book as I’m sure it will be popular with teens looking for a light romance with good art. High school libraries will likely want to add it as well, depending on your community and their comfort with trans and lesbian/queer romances.
Cheer Up! Love and Pom Poms By Crystal Frasier Art by Val Wise Oni Press, 2021 ISBN: 9781620109557 Publisher Age Rating: 13-16
NFNT Age Recommendation: Teen (13-16) Creator Representation: Trans Character Representation: Queer, Trans
It has been three years since Ash’s mother, Kristin, vanished without a trace. Now Ash lives in her childhood home, where old clothes and possessions still linger, but none more precious than her old studio, which houses the secrets of a special place: Koretis. Koretis, born from Kristin’s childhood imagination, is a female-only fantastical land, filled with magic, fanciful creatures, and anthropomorphic animals. One day, after a Pride Club meeting at school, Ash invites a few friends over to explore the studio, eventually coming across a spell to transport them to Koretis. Naturally, they attempt the spell in jest, but are amazed when they find themselves on a lush hillside, discovering that there may be more truth to the stories than they realized.
Yet, somehow, Ash, assigned male at birth, is there as well. What does this mean? Everyone has always referred to Ash as a boy. Shouldn’t the spell have kept Ash out? Or does Ash’s entry into Koretis reveal something a little deeper, a story that has yet to be told?
The world and presentation of Girl Haven is admittedly simple, yet surprisingly accessible. Though I was not met with sweeping, detailed landscapes or a striking color palette, the illustrations still hold an almost nostalgic charm through their expressive qualities and designs. To give a comparison, Meaghan Carter’s style appears as a satisfying mixture of Molly Ostertag’s The Witch Boy and Gale Galligan’s work on The Baby-Sitter’s Club. The individual looks of the characters never come off as overbearing, although there are some instances of wonky proportions in particular panels. Adding to the overall readability of the comic, the layout and size of the panels make the images easily digestible and convey action and emotion in a way that is eye-catching and gripping. However, some scenes could have used a few transitional panels, as characters tend to sporadically appear from one location to another almost instantly, without the use of magical spells this time, of course.
What ultimately sets Girl Haven apart from other portal fantasies is its focus on gender exploration and acceptance. To see a story marketed towards children that deals with transgender identities in such a supportive and genuine way is nothing short of heartwarming. While Ash’s journey in questioning their gender is somewhat surface level, it serves as a worthy introduction to these issues. The comic showcases self-doubt and uncertainty as valid parts of this experience, while also stressing, in the preface, that this story is only one version of it, as not all transgender people share the same experiences. Since Ash’s arc is the focal point along with the journey to Koretis, this does not leave much time in this 160-page comic to develop the other characters, mainly Ash’s friends Eleanor, Junebug, and Chloe, who have the potential to be as fully developed if given the chance. Still, each of them have enough of their own stand-out moments to ingratiate them to a variety of readers.
The publisher and other sites recommend this title for the 10 and up crowd, though I believe that, due to the accessibility of its art style and layout, its simple plot structure and characterizations, and lack of serious violence or any other potentially harmful material, it is also suitable for 9-year-olds and perhaps 8-year-olds at the youngest. Positive transgender representation in fantasy materials, especially for younger readers, is still somewhat scarce, and those curious or wanting to see themselves in such stories deserve to have them readily available should they be appropriate for them. Girl Haven can appeal to children facing similar experiences to Ash or to those wondering how to be supportive to those on their own gender journeys.
Giving further context to Ash’s story, the back matter of the comic includes definitions on gender, gender identities, gender expression, and sexuality as it pertains to gender. There is also a portion highlighting the significance of pronouns and how to respectfully use them. Librarians that are interested in strengthening and diversifying their youth LGBTQ+ comic collections and have a good circulation of character-centered fantasy stories should consider acquiring this title.
Girl Haven Vol. By Lilah Sturges Art by Meaghan Carter Oni Press, 2021 ISBN: 9781620108659
Publisher Age Rating: 10-99
NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11), Tween (10-13) Creator Representation: Trans Character Representation: African-American, Lesbian, Queer, Nonbinary, Trans,
Stone Fruit, the debut graphic novel by comics artist Lee Lai, is a heartfelt story about two young women navigating the end of a relationship and the tension points between biological and chosen family. Lai does a marvelous job adapting the structure of young adult coming-of-age stories to the tumultuous years of our twenties, when many of us are still working out what kind of adults we hope to become.
This book centers on Ray, a young woman who’s part-time caretaker to her rambunctious young niece Nessie, and Bron, Ray’s fiercely imaginative, mentally ill girlfriend. Ray and Bron have decided to forge a life together, but their fresh start is complicated by existing family ties. For Ray, family means a strained relationship with her sister, Nessie’s mom, who is wary of Bron’s mental illness and perhaps her trans identity. Bron has her own complicated family of origin: religious conservative parents who have never fully accepted her as a trans woman, but also a younger sister who feels like Bron left her behind. When Bron decides to leave Ray and return home to her parents, both women find themselves reevaluating their familial relationships, unearthing trauma but also testing for the possibility of connection.
Stone Fruit feels like a novel that has the potential to be someone’s favorite book, appearing at the right moment for a reader facing any of the challenges that animate Ray and Bron’s lives: mental illness, a strained relationship with a sibling, an unexpected breakup, a first taste of aunthood. Though Stone Fruit is a breakup story, its melancholy is tempered by moments of joy and insight. Lai has a particular talent for capturing the mundane: life-altering conversations in nondescript restaurants; awkward breakups that end with running out into the street in your underwear; bad babysitting sessions powered by episodes of Peppa Pig. The understated storytelling meant that it took me a while to feel immersed in the story, but once I found my footing, I was deeply moved by this sharply observed snapshot of the human experience.
Lai’s art is terrific and will please fans of traditional media, with fluid brushwork and dreamy blue gouache. Simple four-panel pages put the emphasis on characters and text; the artwork is accomplished but never gets in the way of the narrative. Lai’s one bold artistic choice is her depiction of Ray, Bron, and Nessie during their babysitting romps—the three become monsters with reptilian skin and wicked teeth, a witchy image of female power that serves as a symbol for the kind of female-centered family that Ray and Bron want to create.
Stone Fruit is a strong choice for adult comics collections. I’d particularly recommend it to new adult readers looking for a narrative that speaks to their experiences; however, older adult readers will find just as much to enjoy here. Those purchasing for a young adult audience should be aware of the inclusion of nudity and a brief sex scene.
This title also delivers welcome representation of queer, trans, and Chinese diaspora experiences, adding breadth and inclusivity to graphic novel collections that have historically tended to exclude marginalized voices. Lai is a new voice to look out for, and her debut is well worth picking up.
Stone Fruit By Lee Lai Fantagraphics, 2021 ISBN: 9781683964261
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Australian, Canadian, East Asian, Trans Character Representation: Chinese, Queer, Trans, Ambiguous Mental Illness
Pearl, Tooth, and Eez are a pod of three mermaids who have a taste for the alcoholic beverages they find in underwater shipwrecks. Fresh out of booze, Eez uses her magic to turn the members of her pod human so they can get alcohol from the source—dry land. As kismet would have it, they stumble upon a bar called The Thirsty Mermaid, where they imbibe to their hearts’ content, paying for their drinks with a credit card they “foraged” from some cargo shorts on the boardwalk. The following morning they wake up in the alley outside the bar, hungover and suddenly aware that Eez might not actually know how to turn them back. Their friendly bartender from the prior night, Vivi, takes pity on the ex-mermaids and offers them a place to crash and help getting assimilated. As Pearl and Tooth each find jobs and adjust to life on land, Eez becomes increasingly distressed with her inability to turn them back.
Unsurprisingly, considering Kat Leyh’s previous work on Snapdragon and the popular Lumberjanes series, Thirsty Mermaids has a delightfully diverse cast of characters. There is gay, trans, and nonbinary representation, as well as BIPOC representation. Additionally, the mermaids are surprisingly diverse in appearance, which is refreshingly different from most existing mermaid media. Pearl is chubby and curvy with a purple-and-black-striped fishy tail, and her long black hair has an undercut. Tooth has sharp teeth, a narwhal-like horn, and pointy ears, paired with an orange shark fin tail on her tall, broad body. She wears strips of fabric as a post-apocalyptic bra top, her hair in a messy mohawk, and, as her sole accessory, a necklace she made out of teeth from the sharks she’s defeated in battle. One look at Tooth makes it clear that she is not a mermaid to be messed with. Eez is lithe with red eyes, a gaunt face, and white hair. She has a series of geometric tattoos running across her arm and chest, and an ethereal touch that indicates that she is the powerful spellcaster of the bunch.
The full-color illustrations are lovely. Each full-page spread has a dominant background color for its panels. One page taking place in The Thirsty Mermaid may have dark magenta backgrounds, and the next page will be at Vivi’s apartment and be predominantly mustard yellow. Since Thirsty Mermaids is a beach story, extra care is taken to bring in a vibrant summer color palette, so most pages feature lots of bright orange, blue, yellow, or pink. This aesthetic and setting will please Steven Universe and Adventure Time fans.
In general, Thirsty Mermaids feels like an adult Steven Universe in its themes of chosen family—known in this book as “pods” —plus the meeting of fantasy and real-life worlds. The significant amount of nudity and rampant drinking puts this squarely in the adult section, though the themes and story are likelier to appeal to tweens and teens than adults. Purchase where the Boom Studios comic adaptations of irreverent cartoons are popular, namely the aforementioned Steven Universe and Adventure Time, as well as where older Lumberjanes fans are looking to move on to a more adult title.
Thirsty Mermaids By Kat Leyh Gallery 13, 2021 ISBN:9781982133573
NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+) Creator Representation: Gay, Character Representation: African-American, Gay, Nonbinary, Trans,
Annie is a great student, but her college applications are conspicuously lacking in extracurriculars: no clubs, teams, or sports. Which makes sense, because Annie does not play well with others. But now her mom is pushing her to join, of all things, the cheerleading squad. Surely this will be a disaster. Even if the squad does include Annie’s childhood friend, Beatrice, who still seems really nice.
Beatrice, a.k.a. Bebe, is struggling with issues of her own. She gets a lot of attention for being trans—some openly hostile, and some misguidedly protective. The cheerleading squad is loudly supportive, but at least part of that seems to be because they like how accepting it makes them look. Why else would they secretly conspire to elect her captain of the squad when all she wants is to fly under the radar? Meanwhile, a guy she’s not interested in keeps hounding her, and she’s finding it increasingly difficult to dodge him. Antisocial Annie joining the squad is just one more stressor… unless it’s exactly what they both need.
This is a sweet romance starring two very different young women. Bebe is working on asserting herself, but afraid of coming off as aggressive. Annie IS aggressive, and is learning to communicate and work with others without attacking them. As they fall for each other, they also support each other and help each other improve.
Another big theme is really listening to the people you care about. People always seem to give Bebe what they think she wants and needs, rather than what she actually wants and needs. Her parents are overprotective, the cheerleading squad does big gestures of “support” but doesn’t think to invite Bebe to their regular movie nights, and the pushy guy who keeps hitting on her insists that Bebe wants his attention when she definitely doesn’t. By the end of the story, they all see the error of their ways and adjust their behavior accordingly.
The art is realistic, but softened, brightened, and simplified just enough to give it a friendly, comfortable appeal. The characters are distinct, with different skin tones, body and face types, and hair and clothing styles. Their facial and body language are expressive and natural, and the backgrounds also support the story and help to illustrate character by showing us things like the protagonists’ room décor and choices of phone case.
There is no sexual content here beyond a couple of kisses, and no violence besides one arguably well-deserved slap. Bebe experiences some blatant transphobia—the coach of another school’s cheerleading squad calls her “it” and a cross-dresser, and refuses to let her use the locker room to change—and some awkwardness from friends and family who mean well but don’t always know how to support Bebe. Ultimately, though, those close to her learn to do better and those who are cruel are rebuked and do not get much page time in the story. There is no homophobia around Annie or her relationship with Bebe. There is also another new member of the cheerleading squad who is still working out their gender, and is treated with sensitivity and kindness.
Cheer Up! Love and Pom Poms is a bright, upbeat, inclusive story of love and cheerleading. Hand it to fans of Fence, Check Please!, and The Avant-Guards.
Cheer Up! Love and Pom Poms By Crystal Frasier Art by Val Wise Oni Press, 2021 ISBN: 9781620109557
NFNT Age Recommendation: Teen (13-16), Tween (10-13) Creator Representation: Intersex, Trans Character Representation: Lesbian, Trans
Students in over their heads, death, sexual intrigue, dismemberment, and bickering coming to a head with a threat to the whole world; The Magicians: New Class is full of these touchstones from its parent franchise, Lev Grossman’s The Magicians trilogy. We’re introduced to a handful of hedge magicians in a house in New Orleans before seeing them on a stage at Brakebills Academy for Magical Pedagogy where Dean Fogg unveils an initiative to incorporate hedge magic into the august school. Hedge magic is traditionally taught outside of institutions, passed down in informal houses and has existed for millennia. Hedge magician Keshawn Warren will be joining the staff and three of his students will be admitted as 3rd year students, the first hedge magicians to practice at Brakebills. The new students, Pat, Emily and Audrey, find themselves in a special class with three current third year students, Brian, Sophie and Andy. Andy is outspoken in his disdain for hedge magic and is only mollified upon learning the supposed history of magic traditions class is really for learning illicit battle magic. Deadly mistakes are made. A super villain is revealed. To avoid spoilers I’ll stop summarizing now. Taking place sometime after the events of the novels and TV show, the story and characters stand separate from those. Prior experience just gives the reader a fuller sense of the world. I have seen all of the TV show but have not read Grossman’s original novels.
I have read criticisms of the novels’ narrow male focus and problems with their depiction of homosexuality. This comic is a refreshing break from this, centered on a woman, peppered with sexual tension between Andy and Pat, with a nonbinary supervillain. We spend the most time with Emily, a hedge witch who hands over her prescription meds when she starts at Brakebills and is instead given a noxious green potion that she’s told will cause her body to start producing the proper hormones. I did not pick up on the importance of that scene until 30 pages later when she’s wearing a t-shirt that says “Trans Rights”, in part because I wasn’t familiar with the names of the prescriptions and there are a number of conditions (magical and not) that could be affected by hormone imbalance. It is later specifically stated (during a discussion of crushes) that Emily is trans. I thought this was a clever way of revealing this aspect of her character and a clear benefit of writer Lilah Sturges’ perspective that makes own voices books richer. Emily is the only hedge magician really interested in the formal, academic Brakebills experience, and like the previous novel/TV hero Quentin Coldwater, she feels that magic and Brakebills represent the only chance she has left at life.
The art by Pius Bak is sketchy and insubstantial, backgrounds are only hinted at, often only one or two faces are shown with strong emotional detail and any other faces are inscrutable or blank. I have to wonder if readers without a prior knowledge of Brakebills can get much of a sense of the setting from the occasional antiquated architectural fragments. Gabriel Cassata provides a wonderful moody color palette of muted browns inside the school, with the battle magic practice made visible as columns and circles of neon green and blue energy. When the students sneak out at night to show off to each other the panels are cloaked in heavy blue grays, crackling gold sparks of magic illuminating the scenes.
I loved TheMagicians TV show because it was charming, inhabited by fascinating characters with deep emotional journeys and lots of hijinks. I did not find much of that in this miniseries. We don’t learn a lot about the characters, other than who they’re crushing on and what kinds of magic they’re interested in. This felt like an introduction and I was disappointed to find the series was only 5 issues, I would have enjoyed seeing the characters develop in future volumes. When they’re showing off to each other, the hedge magician Pat does a particularly meta comics trick, turning Andy’s dialog into a Mylar balloon on a string. I wanted more of that humor and playfulness that acts as a great counterpoint to the serious themes in the TV show.
I would put this in the adult section at my library but wouldn’t be surprised to see older teens heading for it, given the crossover popularity of the original novels and show. It has strong language, gore, and sex, with Audrey’s bare back the only nudity. The violence is in a fantasy vein but still made me squirm. It may appeal to fans of Nicnevin and the Bloody Queen, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and Buffy, or any other world where young adults have to save the world. For another outstanding comic about a woman exploring the nexus of magic and trans issues, try Sex Death Revolution by Magdalene Visaggio.
The Magicians: New Class By Lev Grossman, Lilah Sturges, Pius Bak, Gabriel Cassata, Archaia, an imprint of BOOM! Studios, 2020 ISBN: 9781684155651 Publisher Age Rating: 15+ Related media: Book to Comic
Title Details and Representation NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18) Creator Representation: Nonbinary Character Representation: Gay, Trans
The Nib compiles approximately fifty webcomics (many of which were previously published on thenib.com) from forty creators on a wide variety of LGBTQ+-related topics into this Kickstarter-backed anthology. The comics run the gamut from one-page funnies to ten-plus-page detailed glimpses into queer history. Associate Editor Matt Lubchansky’s introduction explains the origin of the title’s source, the phrase “Be Gay, Do Crime.” Lubchansky also discusses the significance of comics as a means to express queer identity in a singularly accessible manner.
Some of the most interesting comics in the anthology serve to educate readers about various aspects of the queer experience. These include histories, cultural and national disparities in treatments of queer people, and procedures like embryo adoption and securing birth control as an asexual person. One historical highlight is The Life of Gad Beck, written by Dorian Alexander, which details gay Jewish Beck’s resistance under Nazi Germany. Levi Hastings’ gorgeous illustrations are rendered in black, white, and pale blue, with thick outlines (there is no art tool information in the book, but it looks like Hastings used oil pastels). Another particularly informative contribution is Sam Wallman’s A Covert Gaze at Conservative Gays, an illuminating piece about historical and contemporary right-wing activism among queer people. At first glance, Wallman’s panelless comic closely resembles a infographic by a Mad Magazine artist; Al Jaffee comes to mind. But this black, white, and pink comic strikes a perfect balance between discussing “gay supervillains” like Milo Yiannopolous and more sympathetic conservatives like gun advocates in the wake of the Pulse Nightclub shooting. Kazimir Lee’s What’s It Like to Raise Kids in Malaysia When You’re LGBT? is another interesting piece which details political perspectives and individual experiences of queer people in Malaysia. The standout art is reminiscent of a mid-20th century picture book; the full-color illustrations are predominantly in earthy reds, pinks, yellows, and browns, and there are minimal outlines in the characters’ block-like head and body shapes.
The anthology balances its drier informational pieces with funny one-page strips and relatable memoirs. A memoir highlight is Dancing with Pride by Maia Kobabe (Gender Queer) and is about eir experience in a folk dancing class where dancers are assigned different roles based on their perceived genders. The simple illustrations appear to be in pencil and watercolor, and feature a page where the dancers are lined up in order so their shirts make a rainbow, a very subtle and sweet nod to queerness in non-queer spaces. Another moving piece is written by Sarah Mirk and details activist Pidgeon Pagonis’s experience as an intersex child. The piece, Gender Isn’t Binary and Neither Is Anatomy, is illustrated by Archie Bongiovanni (A Quick & Easy Guide to Pronouns, Grease Bats). A couple laugh-out-loud funny highlights include Joey Alison Sayers’s The Final Reveal, in which the extremes of gender reveal parties are spoofed, and Shelby Criswell’s Astrological Signs as Classic Queer Haircuts.
As is always the case when I read comic anthologies, there were pieces that didn’t resonate as well with me as those I’ve named above. Rather than specify them, I will argue that it is because this book features something for every reader. If a piece didn’t resonate with me, it is sure to resonate with someone else. The queer representation is so varied, with gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, intersex, and ace representation, and with countless intersectional queer identities, that I am confident every queer reader will find something to relate to in this book. Due to its array of art styles and queer representations, I would particularly recommend Be Gay, Do Comics for fans of Iron Circus’s anthologies, like FTL, Y’all, Smut Peddler, and The Sleep of Reason.
Be Gay, Do Comics Edited by Matt Bors ISBN: 9781684057771 IDW, 2020
Title Details and Representation NFNT Age Recommendation: Adult (18+), Older Teen (16-18) Character Traits: Asexual, Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, Queer Gender Nonconforming, Genderqueer, Intersex, Nonbinary, Trans Creator Highlights: Black, Filipino-American, Puerto Rican Asexual, Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian, Queer Gender Nonconforming, Genderqueer, Nonbinary, Trans
Snapdragon is a colorful, exuberant tale of witchcraft, love, and animal skeletons from a creator best known for her work on the beloved Lumberjanes series. This delightful middle grade story was tentatively titled Roadkill Witch, and I feel that’s important to share because it’s much more evocative of the creepy but playful tone of the book. And roadkill is the unlikely leitmotif that ties much of the story together.
Preteen Snapdragon meets elderly Jacks, who is rumored to be the town witch, when she bravely climbs to her porch in search of her lost dog, GB (short for Good Boy). It’s during one of the long afternoons alone when her mom is at school or working. Snap knows that the black-clad Jacks collects roadkill in her wagon, and is rumored to bring it home and eat it, so she suspects she might find GB there. GB is with Jacks, but instead of eating him, Jacks has patched him up after he almost became roadkill himself. Snap soon learns that Jacks buries the roadkill, then harvests their bones to make into articulated skeletons that she sells on the Internet. When Snap wonders why Jacks bothers to “mess around” with animal bones, Jacks replies, “I ain’t disrespectin’ these critters. Critters die all the time, but it ought to be for a reason. That’s what even the least of us deserve. But roadkill’s a lousy way to end up. Lotsa folks don’t even notice when they hit somethin’. So I notice ‘em.” Once she articulates their skeletons, “they become something new. And they’re remembered.” It’s this basic goodness and humanism that lights up this story.
After returning to Jacks with a box of baby possums she’s saved from their dead mother, Snap becomes an eager apprentice of animal anatomy and the curious kind of magic Jacks practices. This central plot is only one part of a wider story of growth and love of all kinds, as Snap learns that Jacks has a significant link to her family, and the mysterious “curse” that’s been following them since her grandmother was a young woman. We follow Snap and her friend Louis, who transitions over the course of the book into Lulu, as they watch scary movies and swap clothes, and Snap’s mom as she trains as a firefighter and tentatively steps into a new romance.
The characters in Snapdragon view queer identities as a normal part of life. Although discrimination is present, especially in flashback scenes to the 50s, even Lulu’s older brothers, who constantly tease her, accept her for who she is. They’re just as happy to bedevil a younger sister as a younger brother.
Ultimately, Snapdragon is a love story about two people finding each other after a lifetime apart, and about a girl finding her place in a world of magic, new friends, and fluid identities. The mood is joyful and mysterious, and the bright, humorous artwork takes a loving view of the characters. I’ve never seen an artist make a realistic illustration of a possum look cute, but Leyh does it.
I highly recommend Snapdragon, which will appeal to fans of Shannon Hale, Raina Telgemeier, Jennifer Holm, and Brenna Thummler’s Sheets.
Snapdragon By Kat Leyh ISBN: 9781250171122 First Second Books, 2020 Publisher Age Rating: 10-14
Browse for more like this title NFNT Age Recommendation: Middle Grade (7-11) Character Traits: Black, Multiracial Lesbian, Queer Trans, Genderqueer
Reading Gumballs is like being invited to read someone else’s journal. Gumballs is comprised of a few dozen stories that are color-coded in the table of contents into a few different categories: twins-triplet, pleasant people, tales of being trans, illustrations, personal ads, visual diary, Tobias, and miscellanea. While only one of these gumballs is labeled visual diary, it’s the best way of summing up the book as a whole. It’s deeply personal and wholly intimate, whether the stories are childhood memories, what they ate one day, or short fictional stories about an awkward kid named Tobias. This personal invitation into Erin Nations’ life makes his experiences highly relatable for the reader. Even if you’ve never experienced social anxiety or gender dysphoria, being placed into the daily situations he describes effectively conveys the tension and struggle of his experiences.
Nations speaks frankly about being trans, and how his emotions and experiences around gender affect his daily life, whether that includes being harassed on the subway by strangers, what gender dysphoria feels like, the mixed blessings of second puberty, the joy of a stranger using the right pronouns, and the excitement of seeing physical changes after starting hormone replacement therapy. This openness makes it a perfect read for teens or adults who might be able to identify with some of these feelings, or to answer questions about exploring their gender that they never knew how to ask.
The book doesn’t have a single or overarching narrative, which keeps it fresh and somewhat unexpected. The humor in Gumballs feels less like a concerted effort to make you laugh, and more like sharing the absurdity of daily life with friends over drinks. The pages that fall under the sarcastic “pleasant people” category are primarily one-page customer service interactions that Nations has had at his job at the grocery store. These are some of my favorite pages, as they are somewhat bizarre but altogether too believable; I have to wonder if he’s actually said all of those responses or if these pages hold what he wishes he could say.
Nations’ art style is primarily blocky, including the speech bubbles, with mostly flat colors, evoking the style of a newspaper comic strip or zine. However, the book is fairly text-heavy, and the art usually functions to support the text fairly closely. There are some very personal instances that are told with fairly great detail, building trust with the reader. There are also a few moments when Nations declines to illustrate what he narrates—how taking testosterone affected his sex drive and how it affected his genitals. In the second instance, he instead draws himself saying, “I’m not drawing myself naked. It’s just not gonna happen…” Even though he has created such an open book, he still literally draws and communicates his boundaries, making it easy for the reader for respect these boundaries and understand that just because they are invited into someone’s life does not mean all details are up for discussion. This is important, because cisgender people frequently ask trans people invasive personal questions that they wouldn’t otherwise ask a cis person. Gumballs is an opportunity for readers to learn and broaden their perspectives on gender, particularly for folks who may not think about these issues often.
This title was a 2019 Eisner Award nominee in the category of best publication for teens, and while this book is also relevant for adults, I think it would make the most impact in a young adult section. Librarians should be aware of the following content notes for this book: there is some non-sexual nudity, brief discussion of suicide, dealing with transphobic remarks, some swearing, responsible alcohol consumption, and discussion of genitals as they relate to gender and hormone replacement therapy.
Gumballs By Erin Nations ISBN: 9781603094313 Top Shelf, 2018
Browse for more like this title NFNT Age Recommendation: Teen (13-16), Older Teen (16-18), Adult (18+) Character Traits: Trans Creator Highlights: Own Voices, LGBTQIA+ Creator
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Reading Gumballs is like being invited to read someone else’s journal. Gumballs is comprised of a few dozen stories that are color-coded in the table of contents into a few different categories: twins-triplet, pleasant people, tales of being trans, illustrations, personal ads, visual diary, Tobias, and miscellanea. While only one of these gumballs is labeled visual diary, it’s the best way of summing up the book as a whole. It’s deeply personal and wholly intimate, whether the stories are childhood memories, what they ate one day, or short fictional stories about an awkward kid named Tobias. This personal invitation into Erin Nations’ life makes his experiences highly relatable for the reader. Even if you’ve never experienced social anxiety or gender dysphoria, being placed into the daily situations he describes effectively conveys the tension and struggle of his experiences.
