The most recommended gender variance books

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!

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 middle-grade book is a beautiful and sensitive portrayal of a child (Bug) who has never felt quite at home with their assigned gender. Bug’s mom, one of the most loving, caring, and supportive parents I’ve seen in fiction about transgender kids, provides a wonderful example of how to handle a trans child’s gender exploration in a nonjudgmental way. I saw a lot of myself in Bug, and I learned even better ways to support my own transgender child. This book is great for anyone who wants to understand the experience of a transgender kid, and for adults looking for examples of how to be a supportive parent or caregiver. 

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.

“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.

If you’re wondering in practical ways how to do trans history, Manion’s book is a great place to start. It takes one of the categories that preceded a transgender identity (the name typically given to people affirmed female at birth who identified as men and married women) and reimagines how eighteenth- and nineteenth-century lives might look with the benefit of the tools of our modern politics. The book is boldly inclusive, resisting deciding ahead of time how the category should be defined and who should be ruled in or out. Manion is also a role model in respecting the ambiguities of the past, mostly using neutral pronouns and offering non-judgmental speculations about what these subjects and their partners might have thought at key moments in their courageous and inspiring lives. 

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.

Ana on the Edge is a powerful novel about figure skating and gender identity that’s equally perfect for figure skating enthusiasts and kids looking for LGBTQIA+ stories. It’s obvious from the first page that the author is a figure skater who knows the sport intimately, but the sparkling skating scenes are just as fun and accessible for readers who watch the occasional Olympic figure skating competition as they would be for insiders. And the most special part of this book is the poignant way it depicts a kid who is figuring out the gender identity that feels right while competing in a very gendered sport. I loved Ana and could not put this book down; I know many readers will feel the same.

Lyrical prose. Nonbinary Latinx teens. A magical world underneath a lake. Neurodivergent rep. What doesn’t this book have? 

I was captivated from start to finish, watching Bastian and Lore navigate their ADHD, dyslexia, sexuality, and identity, and all while the magic world underneath their lake threatens to come up and drown their surface. Can these two teens - who haven’t seen or spoken to one another in years - learn to trust one another and work together to stop it, before it destroys everything?

I really don’t have the words for how captivating this book is, but the colors, descriptions, and magic are so vibrant they pull you right into the heart of the world and the story, and threaten not to let you go.

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.