LGBTQIA+ Young Adult Literature


The Queer, Enchanted Girls

Pride Month Blogathon: Day 8 – Introduction to Pride Month Blogathon

by Anna-Marie McLemore

I love fairy tales. I love them so much that even when I don’t mean them to, they find their way into my stories. But my third book, Wild Beauty (October 3), may be the story I’ve written so far that looks, from the outside, most like a fairy tale. It’s a book of secrets, pretty dresses, and magical gardens. It’s the story of a generation of cousins who are both haunted by their family’s legacy and enchanted by their own fierce hearts.

It’s also a book about bi and queer Latina girls. The princesses of this story are young women of color, and they love in ways that are mysterious to their mothers and grandmothers but very clear to them.

When I wrote Wild Beauty, it was with the nervous effort of wondering if I might be doing something wrong. My agent and editor were, as always, supportive of me writing queer girls of color. So why did I keep checking over my shoulder as though I might get caught? It was like I thought someone might take my notebook and pen out of my hand and remind me that Latina girls did not belong in ball gowns and enchanted gardens.

I still worry about that sometimes, as I write fairy tales where queer girls of color are the story’s princesses, and the princes are not quite like the ones I grew up seeing. I don’t know if that will ever go away.

But there were two things that made me ready to let my queer Latina fairy tale out into the world. The first was the people I get to work with and know in the book world; their enthusiasm gave me courage to write the kind of girl I am into spaces I thought I wasn’t allowed. That’s the strength of having supportive and encouraging people around you. They tell you that you are allowed. I wish I didn’t need that sometimes. But I think a lot of us do, maybe more than we ever admit.

'Wild Beauty' by Anna-Marie McLemore

The second thing was Wild Beauty’s cover, designed by the brilliant Danielle Mazzella di Bosco. Danielle gave the Nomeolvides girls the kind of full-out fairy tale cover I didn’t think stories about queer Latina girls got. Every time I see her beautiful work on this book, I feel a little more like a girl who might belong in the magic places my stories draw me to.

(A fellow queer girl friend also pointed out that the flower colors that stand out most on the cover match the bi pride flag. I will never unsee that and I don’t want to.)

I was a girl who grew up both loving princess movies and feeling left out of them. Disney princesses did not look like me. Their families did not look like mine. And those princesses did not love like I loved.

This is the thing that has been so hard for me to learn, and that I’ve been so slow to believe: That even in worlds where we don’t yet have places, we are making them.

We are writing our way in.

And this is what I most want to tell those who fear the very idea of girls like me: We don’t want to deny anyone their stories. We don’t want to take your stories. We don’t want to take anything away from you.

We just want a chance to be where you’ve been. We want a place in the enchanted worlds we’ve stood outside watching for so long.

Because that’s the thing about fairy tales. They exist in every tradition because of how they speak to us. They reveal how we are both flawed and miraculous. They make us see each other and ourselves. By making space for all communities and all identities in our fairy tales, we make our real world more inclusive.

Our fairy tales so often declare who is and is not welcome. So often, our stories tell us who we are, and tell us how to look at each other, how to consider each other, how to meet each other in both the world we know and the worlds we imagine.


AMfairybright-201x300Anna-Marie McLemore was born in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, raised in the same town as the world’s largest wisteria vine, and taught by her family to hear la llorona in the Santa Ana winds. She is the author of Morris Award Finalist The Weight of Feathers and Stonewall Honor Book When the Moon Was Ours, which was longlisted for the National Book Award in Young People’s Literature. Wild Beauty will be released on October 3, 2017, and Blanca & Roja is forthcoming in 2018. You can find Anna-Marie at annamariemclemore.com or on Twitter @LaAnnaMarie.

Interview: Robin Stevenson, author of PRIDE, a Middle Grade Non-Fiction Book

Pride Month Blogathon: Day 7 – Introduction to Pride Month Blogathon

For gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people and their supporters, June is a month of pride and celebration, and the high point of that month is the Pride Day Parade. Pride Day is a spectacular and colorful event. But there is a whole lot more to Pride than rainbow flags and amazing outfits. So what exactly are we celebrating on Pride Day? How did this event come to be? And what does Pride mean to the people who celebrate it?

Last year at ALA, I got to chat with author Robin Stevenson about her new book Pride. Pride is a non-fiction Middle Grade book that explores the history of pride and what pride means today in an accessible, fun, and informative way. It is one of the most inclusive books that I have read, and is an incredible resource. I highly recommend it for your Children’s Section and/or Middle Grade collections!

Vee: I’m here with Robin Stevenson, the author of Pride and Under Threat and I know a bunch of others but I don’t remember what they’re titled. *laughs*

Robin Stevenson: Inferno is one, that had a lesbian main character.

Vee: Okay, I clearly need to read more of your books. I did read Under Threat and that was great.

Robin: Oh I’m glad you liked it!

Vee: I forgot to bring it with me and I’m so upset. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to do this interview!

Robin: Oh no, thank you! I’m so glad to I finally get to meet you after chatting online– Yeah, it’s great to be face-to-face and have this conversation.

Vee: So your new book Pride is for ages 10-14 or so?

Robin: Yeah, 9+.

Vee: It’s a nonfiction book about the history of Pride. And it’s really cool because as far as I know, it’s one of the only books about Pride for that age range. I was wondering if you could talk a little bit more about why this book was important for you to write, or what gave you the idea?

Robin: I think it was important for me to write in part because I am a parent, and I have a son who’s 12. He was about 10 when I started writing the book and I was very conscious of how little there was out there for Middle Grade. We’re seeing more YA which is great, but very few books with LGBTQ content for Middle Grade and I don’t think that there were any books that we could read together that had any queer content at all other than a few picture books we read when he was small. So I wanted to write it for Middle Grade. There wasn’t really anything out there about Pride at all and I thought it would be interesting to look at a bit of queer history and queer rights and who’s in the LGBTQ community. It actually began because my publisher talked about starting a new non-fiction series about different cultural celebrations– they were talking about doing books on Ramadan, Chinese New Year and Passover– so I had thought maybe we should do one for Pride day. It didn’t end up being part of that series since it’s a bit different, but that was where the idea initially began. It’s interesting because in the process of writing it and all the people I met in the process of writing it and… it’s been only two months since the book came out, but visiting schools and libraries and talking to teens and kids about it, I think it’s more important than I realized when I began writing it. Which has been a really great experience, and it’s been really significant for me. It’s really changed my relationship to Pride in ways that I didn’t anticipate.

Vee: Oh that’s awesome. Your publisher seems really cool by the way.

Robin: They are, I have the best publisher. I am so lucky.

Vee: They were some of the best people who I met here at ALA.

Robin: Yeah, they are just the best group of people. So supportive of Pride and they really get that this book is important and why it’s so important. I really couldn’t have a more supportive publisher.

Add Pride on Goodreads

Follow Robin Stevenson on Twitter

Vee: That’s awesome. So what was the research process like? There’s so much information out there, so how did you decide what to include, what not to include and all that?

Robin: Well it was really interesting because this was my first Non-Fiction book too, right? It was my 20th book, but the others are all novels, so I usually get to make stuff up! So this was like, okay, I actually had to do research for this book. And I mean you do a little for novels but not in the same way. So initially it was a lot reading, watching documentaries, talking to as many people as I could about what pride means to them.

Trying to decide what to include and what to leave out was really hard because it was important to me that the book would talk about the history of pride in a way that was really inclusive, so I wanted to include as many different voices and experiences as I could. So much queer history has glossed over the contributions of trans people, people of color. We often get a very white gay male version of queer history and I didn’t want to repeat that.

Because it’s a kids book, I wanted as much as possible to include as much voices of kids talking about what Pride meant to them so at the end there’s a number of profiles of kids and teens and then shorter notes from both kids and teens so both kids who identify as queer themselves and kids with queer parents and so on, just to include those experiences and keep the book accessible to kids. There’s a lot of complex ideas when talking about LGBTQ identity and I didn’t want to gloss over the complexities, but I also wanted to make sure that a 9 or 10 year old could understand it.

Vee: Right, so it doesn’t turn into heavy queer theory.

Robin: Exactly. So there were a few pieces that initially I wrote and had to be like, okay, so this isn’t a university text, this is for kids. I had to keep it simple and accessible without glossing over or oversimplifying. I didn’t want people to read it and feel like their identity got totally oversimplified right? So trying to find that balance as well. So I think those were the pieces that I struggled with.

Vee: I so appreciate the focus on inclusion, because like, maybe I’m just reading the wrong books, but all the books on Stonewall and history of Pride I’ve read totally erase trans and bi people and people of color and it’s just, like, why? Like what are you? What? So even just flipping through your book was incredible. I mean, there’s one book about Stonewall that uses the word bisexual like once and the word transgender three times and… I can probably find those words on every other page in your book.

Robin: That’s good!

Vee: Yeah, so that was really awesome.

Robin: People were very generous with sharing information and sharing photographs and sharing their experiences so the research was a really enjoyable process, I got to talk to a lot of wonderful people.

Vee: That’s so cool. So, you were talking about school and library visits– could you talk more about those?

Robin: Yeah. I spent a couple of weeks in Ontario and in Quebec visiting schools and libraries and talking to groups of kids and teens about Pride and about the book which was wonderful and which made me realize the importance of the book. Like in one school where there was total silence when I began speaking, people sort of seemed really uncomfortable. One teacher said “we’ve never actually talked about this before” and I said “wow, that’s amazing” and I looked and there was this one girl at the back of the room who was giving me two thumbs up and she had tears pouring down the side of her face-

Vee: Awwh!

Robin: I almost started crying and I just realized that this is still something– I live in a bubble. I live in a bubble with people who talk about this stuff all the time, right? And that’s not the norm for every kid. For many. And that just made me realize how important this is. And this has made me realize how much resistance there is still. I had a visit booked at a library where there was a couple of grade 5-6 classes that were booked to come talk about Pride and at last minute, the principal vetoed the school visit so I showed up to an empty library. And I have never had that happen, in ten years of doing presentations. So I really think there’s something that needs to shift there. A lot of parents do support LGBTQ inclusion, we do want this stuff talked about in our kid’s classrooms but they’re not exactly vocal about it. And I would just love to see it shift to a point where teachers and schools are worried that parents will complain if they don’t cover this stuff. Right?

So I was at a conference recently. It was an LGBTQ youth pride organized conference called “Love is Love”, organized by some teens at a high school GSA, and it was fabulous. They put on a full-day event and it was great. And one student put up her hand– I had just done a talk on history of Stonewall and Pride– and she put up her hand and said “I didn’t know any of this but why did I have to come here to learn this? Why isn’t this taught in our schools?” And it should be. It really should be, but I think there’s a huge shift that needs to happen where it’s the norm to include this. And not something where teachers feel they need to send home permission slips or that they have to worry that they will have parents complain. So I’d like to see all the parents who support it tell every single one of their kid’s teachers that they want to see this stuff included.

Vee: That is an excellent perspective. Yes yes yes.

Robin: So let’s make that happen!

Vee: Could you talk a bit more about, not the book you were talking about Under Cover, but-

Robin: Inferno?

Vee: Yeah

Robin: Inferno is an older novel of mine, it came out in 2009. It was on the Rainbow List in 2010, so yeah, it has a queer protagonist. Gosh, I haven’t talked about that one in a long time. So what was that book about? What was my spiel for it? haha.. it was interesting because when I was writing it, which wasn’t that long ago, there wasn’t as much LGBTQ stuff published

Vee: When was that?

Robin: I was starting to write it around 2007. And I remember my partner saying– she asked about the book, and I said oh it’s a queer main character and blah blah blah– and she said “do you wanna get published?” So her sense at the time was that it would be a real barrier, you know? And I think even in the past few years since it’s been published that we’re seeing more. I don’t know if people would still really be asking that question. In such a short time… But yeah it’s about a girl who’s under a lot of pressure from her mom to conform to a certain image of femininity which doesn’t fit who she is, and she’s had a relationship with a girl at school who everyone knows is her best friend, they weren’t out about it, and her friend didn’t want to be out about it, so her friend’s moved away and they’ve broken up so she’s really grieving the loss of that relationship but isn’t able to talk to anyone about it

Vee: Right.

Robin: Since she wasn’t able to tell anyone, and she’s just changed her name from Emily to Dante, a reference to Dante’s Inferno since her school is the ninth circle of hell in her mind, and she’s gone back back to school and then she meets this girl who’s hanging around outside the school who’s handing out flyers that say “school or jail, can you see the difference?” and is protesting the idea of compulsory education and is sort of at the heart of this activist group and her name is Parker. And Dante is really drawn to her so she starts talking to her, and hanging out with her and her group of friends. So that’s the starting point for that.

Vee: I don’t think that’s on my TBR list, so I’m definitely going to fix that. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?

Robin: Oh gosh, I have questions for you! But I know you’re supposed to be interviewing me so I’m kinda just holding on to my questions. Uhm, no, it’s just really good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed your tweets and your blogging, I can’t believe how much you’ve got done in the last while. It’s a full-time job that you’re doing. And I’m sure there’s a lot… I mean, I know I find it enormously helpful so I’m sure there’s a lot of people who you’ve never heard from, that it reaches more people than you know. I was in Quebec and a librarian was asking me about my recommendations for LGBTQ books and I was like this is who you need to follow. It’s a great resource you’ve created.

Vee: Ah that means so much! Thank you for this interview and thank you for that.

Robin: No thank you! And thank you for taking the time for this interview.

By | June 15th, 2017|Categories: Archive, Author Interview, New Releases, Writers on Writing|Tags: , , |Comments Off on Interview: Robin Stevenson, author of PRIDE, a Middle Grade Non-Fiction Book

The War of the Words Started in November

by Danny Lore

There are a lot of things in this world that our conservative nightmare of a government will try and take from you. That’s undeniable, even though we’re going to fight our asses off to make sure it doesn’t happen. They want to limit our access to healthcare, our ability to support ourselves, to educate ourselves— all while trying to convince us we don’t count as human. I’d be lying if I wasn’t upfront about that. Hell, that’s why you’re reading this in the first place, to figure out a way to slog through this GOP horrorshow.

They’re going to try and take it all, but don’t let them take your writing from you. This is yours, our stories are ours, and in this battle to keep from breaking down, your writing can be both your greatest offense and defense. I’m speaking from experience here, not just from the election, but from all the Bad Shit of the past year.

You might have noticed that I said the “past year,” and that wasn’t a mistake or a case of rounding up too much. My battle started in April, when my father died. I’m not going to go into details, because I’m not here to make you feel worse. What I will say is that it happened with the shocking speed and unexpectedness of Trump winning the presidency, and the gut punches bruise the same. I got to the point where I asked myself why bother? Why bother, how should we bother, when we’re scared that, with a cartoon villain grin, a quick signature, and a clammy handshake, our current government will declare us all not-human?

But I still wrote. I’m still writing. This is where I gained my coping tools, and so I’m going to talk to you the way I talked to myself, and hopefully it’ll help motivate you for the bumpy road ahead.

Don’t let someone take this from you. I mean it. When I realized that my dad wasn’t going to see my name on the cover of a book, I wanted to give up, much like when I saw the results of the election. Or the weeks afterwards, with every nauseating decision this government has made. The thing that kept me from giving up was the moment that I got pissed. When Trump was elected, I saw it as a clock: if I don’t push myself, who knows what’ll happen a month from now, a year from now. Just like I couldn’t let myself fade when my father passed (because dead or alive, he’d find some way to give me hell if I gave up), I didn’t want to let the world of the GOP leave me nameless. I couldn’t let them erase me. Definitely couldn’t hand them my unrealized legacy on a silver platter— they’ve got enough of those. And so I had to take control, get up, and make it to my computer.

That’s where you have control. That’s where you can scream, cry. That computer screen, that blank sheet of paper- that’s where you force the world to move forward, even when it’s threatening to (very literally) threaten your life and put up every wall possible. If you stop, the wall will always be there, but if you take your sledgehammer to it…?

And a sledgehammer is exactly what our stories and voices are. Every story or idea you commit to is another bit of force, of pressure, to push back conservative bullshit. Getting your story out is a weapon. It’s a weapon you can yield when protest crowds are too much, or when you get off the phone from calling your representatives, or when you have to sign off the internet because it’s all too damn much.

It’s a shield and armor as well. Use your voice to build that world that you deserve, even if it comes to you in the trappings of space travel, mermaids, and street magic. Use your stories to protect you from yourself— to get that rage and frustration out from under your skin and put it somewhere you can manage. Give it to a character, give it to a plot, to a magic system, to a romance. And when you’re done with that, give those characters, plots, magic systems and romances to someone else. Because your stories, by their mere existence, shield and armor others for their battles.

Which is where my second piece of advice comes in. In this battle, because for me I saw it— still see it— as a battle against the world, played out in prose, the other thing that saved me was seeking community. I don’t mean ‘being in’ a community, but actively seeking one (multiple) out and making a home for myself there. Because there will be days when you deserve an award for opening your eyes in the morning, let alone getting words on the page. There will be days when the news you just read on twitter is so earth-shattering that the only thing that makes it out of you is salt tears and shaking. I’ve had those days. I had one of those days a week ago. I’ll have another one of those days in the future.

The thing that dragged me out was finding ways to not be alone. That’s what this government wants. It wants us in small pockets, too small to matter, easy flames to snuff out. We’re not though. You’re not. A good community— could be physical, could be digital, could be a combination— will hold your hand on those days when you can’t write. It will tell you that those days are okay- but also push you to use your weapon and shield again.

It doesn’t have to be a major thing. I’ve been fortunate to find writers’ groups and mentors, but there was a period of time where it was just me, on social media, going ‘okay i’m going to get out 1000 words today,’ and all I got was a single like. Or maybe no likes. But doing that every day it made all the difference.

Communities help focus our anger. They work through both our stories and our emotions. And you might not realize it yet, and it might seem impossible, but that community is out there for you right now. It’s the other people reading this blog. it’s the person you follow on twitter or tumblr who was just complaining they were short their word count or totally demolished it, or complaining about desperately needing to edit. When you reach out, or they do, when you realize you’re no longer alone, it makes each word a little bit easier, because you’re not the only one writing anymore. Your words are part of a bigger work.

Our community is the bigger work, and it is a work so worthy, and so great, that those in power have declared war against it. Every word you type is a battle that you’ve already won. Soldier on, and remember that you aren’t alone on the battlefield.




Danny Lore is a queer writer raised in Harlem and based out of the Bronx. They’ve got an upcoming story in FIYAH magazine, and expect more soon. They live with their partner and the world’s best black cat. Follow them @weredawgz on twitter.



By | June 14th, 2017|Categories: Author Guest Blog, Guest Blogs, Writers on Writing|Comments Off on The War of the Words Started in November

Introducing: #BooksToTeens

We’re thrilled to announce our new campaign: #BooksToTeens!

#BooksToTeens is a new initiative to help get more LGBTQIA+ books into the hands of teens that need them. We’ll feature a new crowdfunding project every other week on GayYA’s Twitter. Most of the projects will be donorschoose.org fundraisers, but we may branch out into Kickstarters for queer anthologies, or other similar crowdfunding pushes. Anything that will eventually help get more LGBTQIA+ books to teens! We’ll use the hashtag #BooksToTeens to promote them.

A good portion of what we do at GayYA can be boiled down to one goal: get more LGBTQIA+ YA books into the hands of the teens that need them. Since GayYA launched in 2011, publishing has made huge progress. There have been so many amazing LGBTQIA+ YA titles published over the last couple of years, books with positive and affirming representation. Yet, a cursory search on YA book tags on Tumblr shows LGBTQIA+ teens still desperately searching for books that prominently feature teens like them. That should not be the case anymore, given the hundreds of amazing titles available. For some reason, there’s a missing bridge between the books and the teens. While a multi-pronged approach is needed to resolve this issue, helping to fund these classrooms and libraries is a measurable step that we can take toward fixing it. All teens should have the opportunity to see themselves in the books that they read. For every classroom we help fund, every library we get books to, there are teens who will gain access to that opportunity; to see themselves in stories.

#BooksToTeens is inspired by the work of rockstar librarian Angie Manifredi. Several months ago, she began spearheading a push on Twitter to fund Donor’s Choose campaigns to help support classrooms that needed funding for books. Throughout the chaos of the election, it was a relief to help boost and donate to those classrooms. It felt like a measurable amount of good that we were putting out into the world.

Our first #BooksToTeens project is LGBTQ+ Library For Our School, a student-led fundraiser. They’re hoping to raise $523 in order to create a LGBTQ+ library section at their school. Let’s help them reach that!

As this is an ongoing project, we are open to fundraiser suggestions, whether it’s your project, a friend’s, or something you just stumbled across. Please email vee@gayya.org with your suggestions.

By | June 12th, 2017|Categories: Archive, Updates and Announcements|Comments Off on Introducing: #BooksToTeens

“An Anchor to Guide Them”: On the Importance of LGBTQIA+ Media

Pride Month Blogathon: Day 4 – Introduction to Pride Month Blogathon

by Kiana Nguyen 

I kissed my first girlfriend in 2011 when I was 18, and it was the first kiss that held my entire heart. I was excited, I was anxious, I was so happy to finally have them in my arms I felt close to bursting. I was so scared of finally feeling real that I wanted to run.

Kissing Casey*, who later came out as genderqueer and trans, was an experience so unreal and so right, I felt starved for the joy that rushed through me. Just minutes earlier I was running through the shoulder to shoulder crowd at NYC Pride, trying to locate the person who’d been stealing my wits for weeks on Tumblr. I’d fallen hard and quick for them, relishing the feeling of being liked back. Of being liked as a girl who was finally discovering that she wasn’t broken or lacking for not having a boyfriend or liking boys.

I did like someone and I liked Drew. I liked talking about my crush to friends in terms that fit, with pronouns that weren’t “he, him, and his.” Even if they didn’t always understand, even as I heard whispers of ‘I told you so” behind my back. I felt seen, I felt heard, and most of all I felt like myself.

When I think about why I write YA, and why I focus on queer characters, I think about Tegan and Sara (yes, that band of lesbian sisters that all gay ladies in their mid-twenties and above are obsessed with or at least know of). I was introduced to them by a friend during a particularly dismal math class. The Canadian band wasn’t my first dalliance with lesbians or queer people in the media – I grew up during the time of The L Word, after all, but for one, I saw myself in the quirky sisters. Tegan and Sara were warm and approachable, funny and down to earth. They were the first queer women that I saw parts of myself in, and I was so deeply in love with Sara that I made Tumblr to follow fan blogs, music, shows, etc.

I found my first queer spaces and made my first queer friends. I soon discovered media with gay ladies (I wasn’t incredibly intersectional at this point in my life, but also queer media is overwhelmingly cisgender and white) in relationships. IN LOVE! I quickly became obsessed with the U.K. show SKINS because of Emily and Lily, whose romance was slow and sweet and stumbling and raw. Really, thank God for Tumblr because there are so many queer people hungering for representation in media that once a television show, movie, or book drops with an inkling of queerness it will appear on your dash like a gift. Just make sure to cultivate a community of LGBTQIA+ angels! Tumblr gave us a platform to be free. Allowed us to be messy queer babies, finding out exactly who we were, exactly who we liked, exactly who we wanted to become in the safety of each others’ love and friendship. There are so many people I know from Tumblr who eventually felt safe enough to come out as trans, as asexual, as gay, etc, etc. Even if we couldn’t be out and proud in the streets of our cities, we could be in our safe space of the internet.

I think about that space and how it led me to kissing Casey* at Pride, where we were surrounded by people who loved like us, were like us, believed like us that there were better days ahead for our community. For so many of us, Pride events are the only times we can be who we are. In New York City, it’s also one of the only times queer communal spaces aren’t overwhelmingly white.

Surviving as a young gay teen (I didn’t know I was bisexual then), and a biracial one at that, was one of the loneliest things I had to do. I had little to no role models or stories to look to and hold on to during my darkest times. I didn’t even know that QPOC (Queer people of color)  was a thing! That’s why my advocacy for this community is so focused on creating and lifting up queer stories, especially those of queer people of color. I want to create characters and stories that will do for a younger teen what Tegan and Sara did for me. It’s so important to me to build an inclusive YA market and community, where gay, bi, trans, queer and Black, Asian, and Native, are more than a tossed-aside mention of a side character. I want YA protagonists that are like so many of the queer people I’ve come to know and love, like so many of the real life people that exist – so that a safe community can be made for all queer teens, whether that’s in a pocket of the internet or a book club.

So that young teens can have an anchor to guide them to the moment they can love themselves and be loved back as freely as they deserve.



Kiana Nguyen is a biracial bisexual who loves alliterated phrases. She is a YA writer who doubles as an intern and social media coordinator at Donald Maass Literary Agency. When she’s not devouring avocados, she dedicates her time to making YA fiction queerer and blacker for current and future teens. You can find her wildly off-color tweets @kianangu.

By | June 10th, 2017|Categories: Archive, Guest Blogs, Readers on Reading, Writers on Writing|Tags: , , |Comments Off on “An Anchor to Guide Them”: On the Importance of LGBTQIA+ Media