The most recommended books about bisexuality

Fake dating story? Check. Queer characters? Check. A fragile web of lies? Another check! In Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating, Hani and Ishu do not like each other.

They might be the only Bengali girls in their predominantly white Irish school, but that doesn't mean they're anything alike. If pretending to date someone will get you ahead in life, though, sometimes you do what you have to do. And if that turns into real feelings, well...that's a problem for another day.

I was totally smitten by this story. It's cute, well-written, and heartwarming, and it's sure to add a little bounce to your step after you turn the final page.

With Imperial Bedrooms, Bret Easton Ellis channels many of his career-long obsessions into a nihilistic work of Hollywood noir, written in a minimalist prose style that evokes both Raymond Chandler’s staccato brutalism and Joan Didion’s haunting lyricism. Imperial Bedrooms takes a razor to Hollywood’s beautiful surfaces while drawing the reader deeper and deeper into protagonist Clay’s misanthropic paranoia. The writing is masterful, existential horror frozen into sentences so spare and focused they often resemble haiku. It features what might be my favorite closing line in fiction: “The fades, the dissolves, the rewritten scenes, all the things you wipe away—I now want to explain all these things to her but I know I never will, the most important one being: I never liked anyone and I’m afraid of people.”

The Brides of Dracula are a classic overlooked group. Most adaptations treat them like a sexy slideshow of danger, not allowed to do anything other than lust and hunger. They’re a flattened idea of feminine desire, put on Dracula’s leash.

S.T. Gibson breathes them to life (or undeath) by imagining what their long existence is like, constantly under a temperamental abuser’s thumb. Yes, they are angry and hungry, and they yearn, but it’s a deeply human yearning for more than companionship. You root for them to be the ones to plunge knives into the count’s heart.

Deposing Nathan was everything I'd dreamed it would be—deep, torturous, intense, and beautiful. Zack Smedley’s poignant and relevant storytelling hooked me from the first line to the unexpected twist and through the surprising ending. In this powerful story, Nate has been called to deliver a sworn statement against his ex-boyfriend Cam. What first seemed like a simple premise brought me back to my days of questioning sexuality, religion, family expectations, and familial commitment, and it unearthed memories of the struggles of finding myself as a teenager and navigating complex emotions. 

Adam, the narrator of I Am the Cheese, lost his parents in a malicious car accident and, during the course of the novel, he attempts a journey to discover the truth behind what happened to them. Published in 1977, I Am the Cheese is the very first YA story I read as a young adult that did not unfold as I’d anticipated. The world of the novel was much darker than any I’d encountered before in YA literature, and for the first time I realized that I couldn’t necessarily believe what the first-person narrator was telling me. This was an eye-opener for me, both as a reader and as a future author who would eventually explore various ways to tell my own stories. More important, I Am the Cheese has stood the test of time, remaining as engaging (and disturbing) a read as ever.

Sometimes, I find the grumpy/sunshine trope to be contrived, but Crane layers enough other elements into these men’s personalities that Lake drew me in immediately, and he worked as a delightful foil to Grady’s sharper edges.

Crane spends as much time developing their solid friendship as most authors do for the complete romance, and following Grady as he melted for Lake was compelling. I love stories about someone finding their person, no matter what form that person takes, and I appreciated the representations here of both bisexuality and demisexuality.

This book is hot and emotional in all the right ways without dipping into overwrought territory, proving that initial low heat can also contribute to a delicious slow burn.

John Updike, writing about golf? Well, why not? This novel, from one of America’s greatest writers, is something of a riff on Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter, in a story about a disgraced minister sent off on a sabbatical. He keeps a daily journal, which is what makes up the novel.

Naturally, this being Updike, there are stories about his affairs, his drinking, his family relationships, and more. But there are also wonderful passages about his golf game. Like much of Updike’s work, this book is thought-provoking and an interesting window into the American mind of the 20th century.

The story is refreshingly honest in its depiction of teenage sexuality, lust, longing, angst, romance, and friendship, from a variety of orientations and identities.

The audiobook was excellent; Alejandro Ruiz is an extraordinary narrator, and perfect for this book. It was also nice to see Palestinian representation in a young adult novel. It’s two thumbs up for this LGBTQIA+BIPOC novel.

Dugan is one of my absolute favorite authors of queer YA, and this romance between out-and-proud track star Morgan and closeted Ruby is a perfect illustration why, merging a fun high school setting and passionate main characters with the very relevant situation of managing your public level of queerness. It’s thoughtful and sweet, romantic and funny, and above all, real. 

I’ve heard people say this book is “magical,” and that description is spot on.

I cannot get over how cute this book was! A sprinkle of magic, found family, finding yourself, and amazing descriptions of the city. This book gave me so many sparkly feels. I begged for the two characters to get together and rooted for the MC from page one. The plot was phenomenally creative, genuinely like nothing I had ever read within contemporary romance.

I finished this book faster than any other book of the year.