The most recommended books about homophobia

Why have one world when you can have multiple? The Unspoken Name took me by surprise when our main character was taken from her death cult and whisked through a gateway that would lead her to many worlds all connected by a misty maze. Dead worlds and gods, flying ships, undead cities, and a revenge plot that twists into something far bigger, The Unspoken Name feels like three stories in one, but in the best way. The various worlds and their cultures are intricate and vibrant, brought to life by the lovely cast of characters the story is told through. From an orc mercenary outrunning a god, to a wizard with godlike ambitions, the cast is phenomenal and diverse in both race and sexuality, something I love reading in fantasy. 

This is an excellent book on the social-ecological perspective and helping youth “navigate and negotiate the resources they need for their well-being.” Through his many books, Ungar challenges the traditional view of resiliency and something inherent in some people to overcome adversity. We can all have a role in helping build resiliency in youth.

This book helps you understand how to help youth feel empowered and competent, create a positive identity, and learn skills to best get their needs met in constructive and positively reinforcing ways. For workers who think that handholding is enabling, they will learn that spending time with our youth and developing navigation and negotiating skills is fundamentally important and something all youth need, not just youth whose lives have been an ongoing struggle.

Ungar has tabbed guides that can be printed and used to help learn 20 navigation and negotiating skills and to help workers develop… show more.

Author Bill Konigsberg has always pulled me in with his entertaining, well-written, and deep stories. In The Music of What Happens, Max and Jordan bond over their effort to save a 1980s-era food truck to help Jordan’s family stay afloat. Jordan’s secret, though, is that his mom’s mental health is spiraling out of control, and he carries the burden of being the only person able to hold everything together—financially and emotionally. I fell hard for Max and Jordan’s chemistry as well as for Jordan’s struggle of helping his mother through her mental health struggles. 

Forster captures the loneliness and enforced celibacy many experienced when homosexuality was criminalized, and which I also experienced.

Forster had his first sexual experience at 37. His hero Maurice, like characters in many novels of the early twentieth century, tries therapy to change himself, and remains in a celibate relationship until his partner marries a woman. Maurice was published after Forster’s death, though it was written six decades earlier.

It inspired younger writers like Isherwood and was made into a great film with the young Hugh Grant as Maurice’s partner Clive. Forster’s statement that he would not have bothered to write unless he could give his hero a happy ending, also inspired my fiction-writing.

Drawing on his own experiences Sheppard has written about three invisible boys who are dealing with being gay in an unforgiving country town that reminds me of the culture I grew up in with the lack of understanding and support for LGBTQI youth.

This is a page turner that deals with everything real: identity, belonging, family dysfunction, and masculinity. It is a book that will be a beacon of light to young people who are dealing with their own coming out journey, and a handbook to those who are allies and wish to support LGBTQI youth on their journey. It broke my heart and healed it again and Sheppard is an author that is on my must read list.

Lena Martin is given the job of tracking down Shattergirl, a black lesbian superhero who has dropped out of sight. I love this book because it’s not your usual superhero story. 

It takes a dive into how public perception affects who we are willing to accept as heroes, how other people’s preconceptions care wear down marginalized people, and how having to hide parts of yourself can distance you from those around you.

A grimdark fantasy in the tone of Abercrombie, Moss’s The Worthy is a brilliant debut that explores a fractious sibling relationship between brother and sister Prince Barsten and Princess Ailith, both of whom are battling to become heir to the kingdom of Crell. Ailith herself is hiding her lover, Lady Avalon, at the same time as trying to protect the kingdom when it quite literally begins to tear itself apart due to a mysterious magical entity. The book explores issues of patriarchal oppression, historic abuse and trauma, sexuality and homophobia. Despite the grim world and morally grey characters, I found myself drawn into this story because of the important themes it considered. 

Homophobia appears to have been the least of Jack Charles’ worries. If it ever bothered him, he barely lets it register in this memoir of a creative life lived both on the fringes and in the spotlight. Perhaps that’s the point, that his eloquent, good-humoured approach always seemed to scotch the haters right from the get-go. In an unbendingly honest self-reflection, Charles also pulls off describing himself as a “poof”, a very Australian term of derision that has been reclaimed by many. His ‘born again’ tale similarly relates how he survived in the face of terrible prejudices endured by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders—the First Nations people of Australia—and their vibrant, resilient spirit. An uplifting gem.

We are living in a world in which right-wing populisms thrive from North America to India and from Latin America to Europe. Everywhere they promote nationalism, xenophobia, homophobia, and religious fundamentalism. This is a book that analyzes the new nationalism in different parts of the world and dissects to what extent essentialist national identities are constructed with often devastating results in terms of violent conflict in a range of societies.

Danny Kelly is a living, breathing gay Greek protagonist, and the choices this driven young competitive swimmer faces about loving relationships—while he’s in the pursuit of athletic prowess—are written with a resounding ring of truth. Tsiolkas’ visceral sex scenes, underpinned by gripping descriptions of the desires behind the mechanics, speak to much more than the act itself. They go to the heart of identity in a novel with so many layers of self-definition: the migrant, the working class hero, the quintessential male, the stereotypical gay, the success story, and the abject failure. That Danny escapes his ambition alive is a miracle, and it has everything to do with digging deep and staring down expectations.