Ash

Malinda Lo, September 2009. Twelve-year-old Ash has grown up listening to fairy tales and experiencing medical care provided by greenwitches rather than doctors, so she's surprised but not shocked when her late-night wanderings in the forest lead her to fairyland. She welcomes the escape; after her father's recent death, she's been forced to work as a housekeeper and ladies' maid for her new stepmother and two stepsisters.

Ash falls in love with a scary and elusive fairy-boy named Sidhean who is cursed to love her, and she feels herself losing control the more time she spends with him in the woods. But the same paths that lead her to fairyland also bring her to Kaisa, huntress for the king, who belongs to Ash's own world. Ash's attraction to Kaisa competes with her longing for fairyland, but she doesn't feel compelled to choose between them. Nor does she feel that one attraction is wrong, as in many coming-out tales. The twist comes when Ash, in order to meet Kaisa at a ball, must ask for Sidhean's help. In return, he asks that she become completely his, leaving her in a bind between her lovers.

The tale is set against a rich backdrop of ballgowns and class struggles, minor characters that stick with the reader (I hope there's a sequel focusing on Gwen), and the delicate balance between fairyland and real life. The love story is both vivid and subtle, and the fact that each character would survive without her partner removes this from the romance genre, although it will still appeal to readers of same. In fact, this not-romance, not-realistic, not-quite-fantasy novel will probably appeal to nearly all of your teen girls. Highly recommended. And now I'm the first and last reviewer to not mention Cinderella...oops.

Candy Everybody Wants

Josh Kilmer-Purcell, 2008. In case the shiny silver color with hot-pink lettering doesn't give it away, this book is one big gay party. In the opening scene, fourteen-year-old Jayson is shooting his Dallas/Dynasty crossover (that'd be Dallasty), starring himself as the female lead - as good a plan as any to make out with the cute neighbor boy he's cast opposite. Jayson has never been kissed, although he's quite comfortable with his identity, having "decided that he was homosexual while watching a Phil Donahue episode on the topic eight years earlier. He'd come home early from kindergarten that day because he'd gotten a stomach ache from wondering whether his Hee Haw overalls were too outré for his peers. Jayson had been sent home from school fairly often over the years, including the first day of kindergarten when he'd become inconsolably agitated that the school wouldn't change their spelling of his name from 'Jason' to 'Jayson.' He felt very strongly that he needed the extra flair to set himself apart from the other, obviously less special Jasons in the class."

Jayson's home life is somewhat chaotic; he doesn't know who his father is, his younger brother suffers from Prader-Willi syndrome, and his mom has been married eleven times. After kicking out her latest live-in boyfriend, she announces to Jayson that his father is an old movie star, Oscar Harlande, and that Jayson will be visiting him. Tomorrow. By himself. When Jayson shows up on Oscar's doorstep, he learns that Oscar, who runs an escort service for older gay men interested in sleeping with young Broadway talent, has no idea who Jayson is. Moreover, Jayson's long-time celebrity crush just happens to be living in the house.

The plot only grows more far-fetched from there, but it contributes to the soap-operatically gay smorgasbord that is Candy Everybody Wants. Recommended especially for fans of How I Got into College, Freak Show, and other big gay carnivals of teen fiction.

My Invented Life

Lauren Bjorkman, October 2009. "I wish my coming out had been real so I could write about it online!" exclaims high school junior Roz after reading some stories about the newly uncloseted. Roz has a lot going on: her sister Eva, who used to be her best friend, is ignoring her....and she thinks Eva might be gay. Eva does have a boyfriend, Bryan, but he keeps flirting with Roz. Roz, in turn, flirts with Jonathan, who turns out to be actually gay. Then there's Carmen, bitchy genius and surprisingly good theatrical director, and Nico, whom no one can quite figure out. Eyeliner Andie, who describes herself as "no-sexual," rounds out the ensemble of teens putting on a production of As You Like It. The book tells the story of their complicated-to-the-point-of-farcical love lives as Roz pretends to be gay in order to find out if Eva is, and then has to figure out how to get a boyfriend despite pretending to like girls, and then has to deal with the possibility that she does indeed like girls. This is complicated by her role as Rosalind in the school play, for which she has to dress as a woman dressing like a man. Roz is not only the narrator, but the stereotypical fool who is the last one to figure out what's going on. She's always wailing, "But I don't understand!" as the other characters roll their eyes knowingly. This use of the protagonist serves both as an effective plot device and a smart parody of same.

Imagine if Paula Danziger had written a Basic Eight/Twelfth Night fanfic with help from the writers of Three's Company; that will give you an idea of the red herrings, misunderstandings, gender-bending, secret-keeping, and unreliable narration that make this book the intriguing chaos that it is. My favorite gay YA read of the year. Highly recommended.

The Man Without a Face

Introducing a new feature today: Blast from the Past, in which I'll review some of the classics of gay YA literature.
Isabelle Holland, 1972. Fourteen-year-old Charles is desperate to get into boarding school to escape from his dysfunctional family. He's already failed the admissions exam once, but has been given another shot. Time is short, and his only hope is to work with Mr. McLeod, a former teacher and the village recluse. McLeod lost most of his facial features in an accident, about which no one has the details.

McLeod reluctantly agrees to take on Charles as a student, and they grow quite close, with McLeod taking on more and more of a parental role throughout the summer. Sometimes the two hold hands, but when Charles wants more, McLeod quickly backs away. Something Big happens, but it's hard to tell what; the author describes it vaguely as "It was like everything -- the water, the sun, the hours, the play, the work, the whole summer -- came together. The golden cocoon had broken open and was spilling in a shower of gold. Even so, I didn't know what was happening to me until it had happened." It's unclear whether the two had sex, or maybe Charles had a dream...but in the aftermath, McLeod confesses he is gay. In the next few pages, before the book ends, McLeod leaves town, has a heart attack, and leaves all of his possessions to Charles.

The book is a weird mix of honest emotion and hazy sex. It feels quite dated, as you'd expect from a book published four years before I was born. The sexual relationship is also problematic, of course, and it's hard to imagine marketing a book to teens today that features a fourteen-year-old and an adult in a happy consensual relationship. Recommended for those interested in the history of gay YA literature, but I wouldn't suggest it to most of today's teens.

Suicide Notes

Michael Thomas Ford, October 2008. Jeff wakes up to find he's in a psych ward with bandages on his wrists, but refuses to believe he belongs there. He's committed for forty-five days, but for most of it, he refuses to reveal why he hurt himself in the first place. And about halfway through, he gives in to the sexual advances of a patient named Rankin - and likes it. Jeff's psychiatrist is convinced he tried to kill himself because his best friend Allie began dating a boy named Brent. This is true, but not in quite the way the doctor had in mind. Jeff was in love with Brent, and Allie can't forgive him for not being honest with her about his sexuality.

This gripping, suspenseful book is probably not for your youngest teens, depending on their life experience; the sex scenes are appropriately graphic, as we experience them from inside Jeff's head, and suicide is, of course, a major theme. Highly recommended for readers who can handle it, and for all public libraries.

Twelve Long Months

Brian Malloy, June 2008. Malloy's last gay YA novel, The Year of Ice, was a harsh, depressing portrayal of what it was like to be gay in a rural area thirty years ago. Twelve Long Months couldn't be more different: it's contemporary and lighthearted. High school senior Molly lusts after her lab partner Mark, and is delighted when she learns they're both leaving Minnesota for New York after graduation. Molly will be attending Columbia while Mark will be painting houses with his uncle. It's only after the move that Molly discovers what he couldn't tell her in their small town: he's gay. She's not as devastated as you might think; instead, she and her friends tag along with Mark to gay clubs, and she begins dating a boy who shares her interest in physics. The characters are not vividly drawn, and the plot is slight, with coming-of-age the only real development. Recommended for large YA collections or where there is high demand for queer YA fiction.

Absolutely Maybe

Lisa Yee, February 2009. Yee, the author of an excellent middle-grade trilogy that recounts the same events from three different points of view, takes her first foray into YA with Absolutely Maybe. Eighteen-year-old protagonist Maybe (christened Maybelline after her mother's favorite line of makeup) flees from Florida to LA after high school partly in search of her absentee father, but mostly to escape her self-centered mother and Mom's abusive husband.

Traveling with Maybe are her friends Hollywood, an aspiring filmmaker enrolled at UCLA, and Ted, the reason this book is reviewed here. Ted, a short, funny Thai boy who's very close to his adoptive parents, quickly finds work as the personal assistant to an aging diva. Ted's presentation is rather fabulous, raising my gaydar early on, but I decided it was my imagination. After all, the book jacket and subject headings don't address homosexuality, and neither does the author's earlier work. It's not until page 272 (of 273) that Maybe and I learn the truth.

This isn't the gayest book you'll ever read, but Ted and his friends are strong, appealing characters, and the story is an intriguing one. Recommended, especially in communities where you can't buy most of what I review.

Absolute Brightness

James Lecesne, February 2008. When Phoebe's cousin comes to stay with her family in the small town of Neptune, New Jersey, she's embarrassed by his flamboyance. Leonard is only thirteen, but he's pretty obviously gay, and not just gay but "different. Don't get me wrong. I like different. I am different," says Phoebe, "but when different goes too far, it stops being a statement and just becomes weird." Her cousin wears rainbow platform heels, believes in channeling the dead, creates inventive vodka drinks to soothe his aunt's stress, and makes over every female in town - except Phoebe, whom he deems his ideal.

Phoebe's worried about Neptune's reaction, but in fact, Leonard gets along with everyone except a few token adolescent homophobes. When he begins to work at her mother's beauty salon, he befriends her middle-aged clients and even reads to a lady whose eyes are failing. He arranges a reunion between his aunt and her ex-husband and befriends the theater kids after an amazing audition as Ariel in The Tempest. When he disappears, then, the town rallies to look for him, but not for long, as other local events gradually take precedence over the search for a boy they knew briefly and who probably ran away.

Phoebe can't forget Leonard, though. After he's gone, she learns that he considered her his best friend, and her guilt and love drive her to continue the search. Even after Leonard's body is found, Phoebe doesn't give up until she's satisfied with her knowledge of his relationships and his ultimate good nature.

The book goes on a little too long at 472 pages; a few characters, such as Deirdre and Larry, could have been sacrificed to make the length more manageable. The sainthood of Leonard is a little overboard as well. Still, the story is a sweet one of a teen girl learning to judge people on their merits instead of their reputations. Recommended.

A Really Nice Prom Mess

Brian Sloan, February 2008. I'm a sucker for books and movies that happen all in one night; Dazed and Confused and Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist come to mind. Screenwriter Sloan's first novel is in the same vein: high school kids party like there's no tomorrow, which, you know, there isn't, in the book at least. In A Really Nice Prom Mess, Cameron can't go to prom with Shane, his closeted jock boyfriend, so they double with a pair of girls: their best friend Jane and smoking hot, falling-down-drunk Virginia. Cameron's night gets progressively more bizarre as he meets porn stars and drug dealers; makes out with a stripper and his boyfriend's date; breaks into a house; dances onstage; and in the end, befriends a cop who looks oddly familiar.

No one's ever been to a prom like this; the story is intended as a farce, not a realistic night in the life of a high school senior. It's tons of fun. Give it to your readers who enjoyed Fat Hoochie Prom Queen

Say the Word

Jeanine Garsee, March 2009. In this family problem novel, Shawna's mom just passed away, but Shawna didn't really know her very well. Mom left the family years ago to move in with her female lover, and Shawna has resented her ever since. The funeral is a train wreck - Shawna's controlling father and conninving aunt are rude to the lesbian-mom half of the family, while Shawn's stepbrother's eulogy outs the lesbians to those few who don't already know - and the weeks afterward don't get any better for Shawna as she struggles with her feelings toward each of her parents. The book traces Shawna's path toward acceptance of her mom's half of the family and uncovers some secrets which the reader will have probably figured out before Shawna -- that her best friend is also interested in girls, for example. Recommended for teens struggling with parental issues, whether they're related to sexuality or not.