The most recommended gender variance books

I was mesmerized by this book, and I read it in one great big gulp.

It tackles one of the most intractable questions that queer and trans people face: what to make of historical figures who lived their lives before they had the tidy identitarian categories we have now? I appreciate that Heyam is able to live with some of the inherent ambiguities of their project, and to some extent leaves the question open to further discussion and debate.

After I finished the book, the stories Heyam tells continued to rumble around in my head.

I read this book to my son when he was in second grade because his classroom was paired with a seventh-grade classroom in his school buddy system.

One of the seventh graders was transgender, and the school recommended this book. In simple prose, the book introduces the concept of being transgender in a way that both my son and I could understand, and we both appreciated that it is based on the author’s real-life experience.

Two favorite lines: “Be who you are.” And, “Different is special!”

Sex is an essential part of who we are. What determines our sexual preferences? Do they stem primarily from nature or nurture? Deirdre McCloskey, an eminent economist, is especially qualified to answer these questions. She began her life as Donald, who was married and in his 50s when he realized that he was really a she and became a woman. Crossing, a memoir of McCloskey’s agonizing, exhilarating transformation, is a fascinating deep dive into sexual identity.

This book is stunningly beautiful, dealing with self-discovery and childhood trauma in a sensitive way. It is joyful and melancholy, filled with found family and love, and one of my favorites of the year.

Sparrow has to be the perfect daughter. If she can control everything, then maybe she can hold their life together, but when Mom spirals out of control despite Sparrow’s best efforts, Sparrow ends up being sent to live with her Aunt Mags.

As Shadow encourages Sparrow to take chances and find out who she is, Sparrow realizes that maybe “she” isn’t quite right, and maybe “he” isn’t either. Whoever Sparrow actually is, it’s time they find out. But whatever they find, they know now it’s not up to them to keep the world on their shoulders.

As a parent (and a researcher), I’m so happy this book exists! It’s the best response to the argument that trans kids are new and, therefore, how we raise them is dangerously experimental. Where Gill-Peterson finds such kids historically is mainly in medical archives, where treatments were directed mostly at intersex children, many of whom we’d see as trans. She shows a fascination with the “plasticity” of the body in the early twentieth century, although predictably, possibilities for transforming bodies were viewed differently across racial lines. The best counter to conservative attacks, though, is his research into Val, a 1920s teen in rural Wisconsin who went to school as the gender she affirmed and had negotiated agreements about things like which bathroom she could use, over which we’re fighting a century later!

I particularly like the dual narration in this 2021 debut, with two characters who challenge gender norms at different levels of intensity as they bond over a secret rescue dog. Daniel is a boy who feels all his emotions intensely, and who has been told over and over that he is too sensitive. Ash cycles through genders, feeling and expressing girl sometimes and boy other times. It’s so good to see a GNC character in a lead role. I also got a hoot out of the graphic elements, which are quirky and original.

This is a great place to begin thinking about trans history. Feinberg, who died in 2014, crisscrossed the line between butch lesbian and trans man and was not particular about what pronouns they preferred. In that spirit of inclusiveness, some readers might find her book outdated or too loose in some of the people it includes—any book that ranges from Joan of Arc to NBA star Rodman is covering a lot of ground, but what’s less visible from that subtitle is the work Feinberg has done in crosscultural, anthropological, and comparative mythology studies. What results is a daring and provocative re-reading of world history that puts gender nonconformity at the center, and a stirring call to activism and solidarity that is if anything more needed since its original publication.

McLemore’s prose is basically poetry, and this YA novel is a gorgeous combination of magical realism and Latine folklore. It is a modern fairy tale about forbidden romance, poisonous jealousy, family secrets, and the power of truth.

I fell in love with the lush atmosphere, complex characters, and exquisite storytelling. This one stayed with me for a long time after I’d closed the book. 

“Why is that dad wearing a dress?”

It wasn’t the first time my toddler commented on someone’s appearance in front of them, but I was convinced that his question sounded like a judgment. We have never left our grocery store so fast. I was angry. He was worried. Had he done something wrong? Yes! Maybe? I didn’t know. Had I? Yes. I wanted my family to be cool with all forms of gender expression, but I hadn’t built the common ground or the vocabulary to make that vision a reality. I’d projected my own fears, ignorance, and self-consciousness onto my child. I blew it. This book gave me words. We don’t assume anything about ourselves or other people anymore. I can see that my son’s curiosity comes from a place of sincerity and positivity. Now, I have the confidence to follow his lead.

This is book 1 in the Regency Imposters series. The heroine has masqueraded as a male for 6 years, assuming her late husband’s identity. She’s actually a nonbinary character, which makes this a unique aspect of this book. The hero, while the perfect example of high society, is also open-minded in terms of sexuality, which gave this book a refreshing perspective. I’m glad to see today’s authors include more diverse characters. I think they make the stories more realistic.