100 books like The Secret Life of Oscar Wilde

I loved this book! The author has interviewed lots of trans people and has nicely captured the diversity of the different expressions of gender which is such an important part of being transgender. It covers all aspects of transitioning such as hormones, surgeries, coming out, sex and sexuality, and other areas.

The challenges faced by the trans community are also covered, from transphobia, discrimination, and hate crime to accessing vital health care. Declan Henry has provided valuable insights and lessons for the LGBTQ+ community and all who wish to be an ally to the trans community.

This is a lovely and well-written young adult book of a girl who explores her sexuality and faces the many challenges of being a teenager in modern Ireland.

There are no holds barred in the telling of some of the incidents, and the protagonist Lauren ends up facing every teenage girl’s worst nightmare. Acceptance of difference is a strong theme through the novel and recent Irish referendums on Equal (Same Sex) marriage and legislation to legalise abortion in Ireland are seen from a young person’s valuable point of view.

This was one of my favourite books recently. I picked it up in a charity shop out of curiosity as the two boys were extremely famous Irish actors and theatre designers, albeit being born in the UK.

Their relationship was illegal for the entirety of their lives but their talent and fame allowed them the liberty to walk hand in hand down Dublin’s fashionable Grafton Street in the 1950s, receiving only smiles and acknowledgements. The brilliant telling of their story covers all aspects of life in Ireland from the early 1900s, the difficulties they faced, financial and personal, but the love they felt for each other shines through every page.

If you can get a copy and have any interest in gay Irish culture and theatre I thoroughly recommend it. 

Elliot Page is a Canadian actor who was assigned female at birth and transitioned to male a few years ago.

I was very interested in getting a different perspective on a journey that was the opposite of mine and I expected Elliot’s book to give that to me. To some degree it did, insightful passages detailing his thoughts, feelings, and desires as he grew to be the man he wanted and needed to be.

The writing style is slightly odd, a lot of flashbacks and it might have worked better as a straightforward chronological narrative. By the end of the memoir I really didn’t feel that I knew Elliot much better than at the beginning. However, for trans men it really is a worthwhile read.

In this book, we get to watch philologist Percival Endicott Whyborne solve a dark mystery from his past and battle an evil cult in the company of Griffin Flaherty, an ex-Pinkerton turned private detective, and it is delightful.

Widdershins, MA feels like a real place, but also somewhere plucked directly from the pages of H. P. Lovecraft. Whyborne and Griffin’s relationship is sweet and tender. Whyborne’s best friend, Christine Putnam, is a spitfire in the best possible way. The early twentieth century is rendered in loving detail. And there’s a ton of dark humor. What’s not to love?

This is book one in a series of eleven, so you’ll have plenty to sink your teeth into.

I’ve been a huge advocate for queer representation in kids’ and YA stories for years, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to crave stories about queer adults. I want to know what life looks like after coming out, after coming of age. That’s why I was delighted to discover A Marvellous Light, an Edwardian-era romantic caper chock-full of sprawling country manors, scheming aristocrats, and lots and lots of magic!

If you’re looking for a golden retriever/black cat romance with Jane Austen or E. M. Forster vibes, this one might be for you, though the previous warning regarding unsuspecting cishets still applies: despite its old-timey setting, this book doesn’t pull any punches in its steamier scenes, taking a refreshingly frank and direct approach to sexuality. 

By some bizarre coincidence, I’m not the only writer publishing a queer YA retelling of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde coming out this year! Luckily, this retelling is a much different take from mine, envisioning the story from the perspective of two young Black boys growing up in Victorian London. 

Too many films, television, and books still seem to think that people of color didn’t exist in Britain before, say, the 1960s. (which is ridiculous, as London was a major port city for centuries, not to mention the seat of the British Empire.) 

This book helps set the record straight, cleverly deploying the original novella’s themes of respectability and duality to explore the unique pressures faced by gay Black men during that era. 

Red, White, & Royal Blue is one of my all time favorite books, period.

Up there with my non-spicy recommendations, Red, White, & Royal Blue is a lovingly crafted, beautifully executed example of how to do justice to queer representation. Henry and Alex’s love story is everything I wanted it to be and more.

If I could recommend this book five times, I would. As someone who grew up queer without a ton of options for queer literature, this is the book I wish I’d had in middle and high school. So now, it’s the book that I will just continue to read again and again until I know it so well, I can read it with my eyes closed.

This book was one of the first male/male romance novels I ever read.

I loved how the author took an interracial gay love story set in the early 1800s and made it believable and sweet without glossing over the harsh realities of the time. The romance follows the trope of “opposites attract” between a disgraced English gentleman and a Black former boxer who runs a pub.

The two characters complimented each other well, and altogether I was worried they could never truly have happily-ever-after in Regency England, the author found a wonderful way to make sure they did.

The book delves into concepts like found-family, healing from sexual trauma, classism, racism, consent, and boundaries—a wonderful, uplifting escape into history.

Autobiographies by genuine A-listers can prove disappointing experiences, as the superstars in question tread delicately lest they puncture their carefully cultivated public images. Not so Sir Elton John, who in Me worked closely with Guardian writer Alexis Petridis to deliver a racy, rambunctious, scurrilous account of his serial misdoings. Everyone had always known that Elton John was doing crazy shit. Nobody had grasped that he was doing quite as much as this.