100 books like Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel

I read this book early in my exploration of genderqueer identity, and I found Professor Voth’s defiant joy in uncovering and sharing the historical story of Jack Sheppard, and in his own trans identity, permission-giving. This playful book dramatizes the search for trans histories and ancestries, ultimately transforming this search into a celebration of chosen family.

Queer theory can sometimes be head-scratching, but the first time I read Cruising Utopia (on a camping trip in the mountains), I found myself gazing anew at the trees above me and my lover by my side. The late great theorist pushes us to reconsider how queerness is experienced and remembered in quotidian times and spaces. From sharing a bottle of Coke with a lover to memorializing abandoned toilets in the New York City subway, Muñoz revels in the ecstatic potential of “queer utopian memory” and queer world-building. Cruising Utopia is a marriage of critical theory and thoughtful storytelling, giving readers a much-needed injection of hope in these thoroughly anti-queer times.    

Have you ever searched for queer history only to find… yourself? This is Jenn Shapland’s story in her delightful biography-slash-memoir about the writer Carson McCullers. Shapland digs through McCullers’ letters, discovers the late writer’s therapy appointment notes, and even recounts her own experiences living in McCullers’ former home, looking for any shreds of evidence to confirm the famed writer’s queerness. In the process, Shapland discovers her own lesbianism. As a trans lesbian, I relate so vividly to Shapland’s experiences of rethinking her own identity in the process of doing queer history. I love how she interweaves her own life with McCullers’—a kind of transgenerational rejection of the closet and a celebration of queer womanhood.  

Somewhere in their fourteen-page digression on the 18th-century non-binary American prophet Universal Publick Friend did I realize—once again—that I was nearly done with T Fleischmann’s enchanting book-length essay on transness, time, and art. I have read it three times! As a trans person, I love this book for its meditations on the transitioning body and its sexy tales of intimate encounters. It also offers a critical engagement with the artist Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s work, as well as a memoir of discovery that, like Fleischmann themself, bounces from New York City to rural Tennessee and back again, charting a geography of queer friendship and memory. 

My favorite thing about The Near Witch is that the protagonist makes terrible choices. I find characters who always do the “right thing” boring, and their growth arcs less satisfying. Be prepared not to understand Lexi at first, but I promise she’s endearing in the end.

I’ve read negative reviews that everything isn’t wrapped up perfectly in The Near Witch, but I enjoyed the story’s sense of realness. My preference is for a captivating story, not always one with every answer. The Near Witch is notably different compared to Schwab’s later works, but as someone with a growth mindset, this only makes me love this book more. If you’re a big fan of her work, go into her debut novel expecting something quieter and I bet you’ll be delighted.

This was one of my first introductions to novel-length fairy tales. Shadow Spinner influenced the first stories I made up as bedtime tales for my little sisters. Like Marjan, I love playing with the many threads of traditional tales, weaving them together with my own threads of imagination. I still have folders with my first attempts at writing the thousand-and-second tale of Arabian Nights. 

Leavitt’s story is a fairytale and like all good fairytales, there is a handsome prince except this one is played by Lord Death himself.

I love Keturah. She is brave enough not to be afraid and big-hearted enough to see beyond Death’s terrifying purpose to the underlying sadness of the feared and hated outsider. Through the course of the book, she also comes to appreciate the meaning he brings to life.

“It was Death who…made her see the sun in the blue sky and hear the trees in a spring wind. He made her see how much she loved her friends…Made her love the breath in her lungs. She knew she had never been truly alive as when she met him. Never so happy and content with her lot until she was touched by the sorrow of him.”

If I had to pick one book I wish I had written, Every Day would be that book. Why? Because while its premise—a nonbinary teen who wakes up in a different body each day—may sound like your basic YA fantasy romance, it is so much more.

David Levithan illuminates the most profound metaphysical question of what a human being really, truly is and does it so creatively. And he does this while fully situated in the context of what it means to be LQBTQ in today’s world. I liked Every Day so much that I read all of Levithan’s other books.

Though you couldn’t pay me one million dollars to wear giant shoulder pads again, I’m taking you there with this one because it’s all about eighties fashion with The Carrie Dairies. And who can resist, because those high-waisted acid-wash jeans seem to have come back full circle to haunt us.  

This book was a bit removed from my usual picks, but I couldn’t resist with all the hype about The Carrie Diaries TV show. It’s a Sex and the City flashback to Carrie Bradshaw’s 1980’s senior year. And like the wildly popular, decade-defining television show, this book series has everything for your guilty pleasures. Really, it’s a super-fun easy read and serves to answer those nagging questions we all had about Carrie’s past when SATC was at its height. But proceed with caution. You may find yourself slapping on some blue eyeliner and iridescent lip stick.  

Dual-career couples are on the rise – chances are, if you plan on having a long-term relationship or even getting married at some point, you will have to navigate this two-person high-wire act. Jennifer Petriglieri offers a useful take on the three big questions all couples need to grapple with over time for their careers and relationship to flourish jointly: How can we make this work? (handling the logistics of combining two busy lives and often raising young kids); What do we really want? (navigating the inevitable questions that arise in mid-life); and Who are we know? (once our identities and bodies are much changed from the ones that first attracted our partners). I loved the data, stories, and exercises in this book, and have applied them to my own life.