Best: Overall

Rating: 10/10

This thoughtful, explosive and essential book by Angela Chen offers an overdue insight into the multiple experiences and challenges faced by asexual people in a world that often struggles to recognise their very existence.

Journalist Chen takes a rigorous approach to her subject, interviewing hundreds of people who fall under the ace spectrum. Critiquing the centrality of sex in western society, Chen rightly notes that “true sexual liberation means having many choices – no sex forever, sex three times a day, and everything in-between – that all feel equally available and accepted.” Her observations on what she describes as the conspicuous consumption of sex as a way to perform feminist/radical politics is thought-provoking, while her dissection of social norms and how these can inhibit sex and relationships is both expansive and inclusive.

It’s not uncommon for ace activism to be considered a joke, but Chen rightly notes that it can be devastating and isolating for those who aren’t aware that this is what they are. Asexual people, like many others under the LGBT+ umbrella, also face their identities being medicalised and treated as a problem to be fixed, further reinforcing the importance of solidarity among all people under the rainbow banner.

Rather than associating asexuality with conservatism, a frequently misguided presumption, Chen states that ace activists “want to expand the potential for what pleasure can look like”. This excellent book successfully challenges many of society’s entrenched ideas around sex and desire. Reading it should be mandatory for all.

Best: Poetry

Rating: 9/10

Winner of the 2021 T.S. Eliot Prize, this powerful, visceral collection from Joelle Taylor is nothing less than a gift. Blending magical creativity and memoir, it’s both a love letter and a eulogy to forgotten, vilified and beloved butch women and their spaces.

Taylor tells the tale of four butch women and the specific issues that affect this group, including violence, beauty and survival. “There is no part of a butch lesbian that is welcome in this world,” she states in the preface, a sobering fact that continues to resonate both at home and abroad. Equal parts fierce, mournful and celebratory, this imaginative work laments the loss of queer women’s spaces and community through an inventive approach which incorporates sound effects and even lighting directions.

Written to be performed, there’s also a QR code at the back of the book linking to an electrifying live performance of Taylor performing this work, which is nothing short of thrilling. “Remember this: my whole fucking life is a protest,” she proclaims. This book epitomises the entire essence of Pride.

Best: Fiction

Rating: 9/10

Like the difficult second album, the stakes were particularly high for this second novel by Scottish-American writer Douglas Stuart. Shuggie Bains (£11.99, Amazon.co.uk), his debut novel, was a roaring success, winning the 2020 Booker Prize, and reaching the final for the 2020 National Book Award for Fiction. And thankfully, Young Mungo has delivered in spades.

While the two books have much in common, not least the setting of Glasgow, and the familiar themes of poverty and alcoholism, Young Mungo concerns the burgeoning relationship between two young men, one Catholic and one Protestant, struggling to survive in the hyper-masculine world of sectarian housing estates. Here, hope is a dangerous thing, suffering is the norm, and the humble kiwi fruit is a class signifier. In such a hostile environment, tenderness takes on a powerful new poignancy, especially when contrasted with the horror and depravity wrought by two strange men.

Young Mungo can be a harrowing and difficult read, but Stuart captures the clumsiness, pain and gravity of first love beautifully, however, alongside important social histories. This is a shattering and unforgettable novel that will stay with you for a long time.

Best: Non-fiction

Rating: 10/10

Though this demographic makes up less than one per cent of the population, trans people have found themselves at the heart of discussion from a number of figures in the media, political and academic spheres. Sadly, some media reports tend to wrongly portray this marginalised group as perverse, suspicious and a threat to the very fabric of society, rather than focusing on the real-life challenges affecting trans people.

In this comprehensive, state-of-the-nation work, Faye lays out the facts in unsparing detail, from healthcare to housing, work to family, the criminal justice system and LGBT+ community life. Alongside dispelling popular myths – children under 18 in the UK never have genital surgery, for example – she also emphasises the similarities shared by other disenfranchised people, such as workers, feminists, anti-racists and queer people and the importance of solidarity.

Rather than calling for equality, Faye is invested in liberation, collective action and hope. A manifesto for an alternative present where trans peoples’ existence “enriches the world”, this refreshing landmark work is an essential read and an electrifying call to action.

Best: Short-story collection

Rating: 9/10

Why Plett isn’t better known on this side of the Atlantic remains a mystery. Hailing from a Mennonite background in Canada, A Dream of a Woman marks her second short story collection after 2014’s magnificent A Safe Girl to Love (£15.24, Blackwells.co.uk) and the multi-award-winning (LAMBDA, Amazon First Novel Award) 2018 novel Little Fish (£12.15, Amazon.co.uk). Her stories primarily focus on trans women and the challenges they face in a world that often dehumanises them, and on the relationships – good and bad – they navigate.

In addition to themes of addiction, the challenges of living in a cold climate and survival, one of Plett’s many skills is depicting the day-to-day existence and conventional aspects of a group too often wrongly portrayed as deviant. “I’m interested in the mundanity of transness and in the mundane ways that transness affects trans peoples’ lives,” she said in a recent interview with the Harvard Review. But her work is far from humdrum. Both bittersweet and beautiful, Plett writes perfectly imperfect characters that make you feel less alone.

Best: For romance

Rating: 9/10

When 17-year-old Lily Hu spots an advert for a “male impersonator” act in her local paper at the enigmatic Telegraph Club, it marks the start of a journey of self-discovery and burgeoning sexuality that permeates every aspect of her life. Set in San Francisco’s Chinatown in the 1950s against a backdrop of McCarthyism and red scare paranoia, Hu begins to live a secret double-life that requires her to re-evaluate everything she thinks she knows, while discovering a thrilling underground queer community.

In this delightful book, Lo captures the headiness and thrill of first love exquisitely and the risks we take for love. Last Night at the Telegraph Club is a thoughtful semi-fictionalised account of an important and overlooked period in queer, American history.

Best: Coming-of-age tale

Rating: 9/10

Told in verse, this beautiful coming-of-age story focuses on Felix, a Jamaican-Greek Cypriot teenager, coming to terms with his identity as a gay man. From leaving his home in London, to finding a home to explore and celebrate himself in his university’s drag society, this joyful tale is full of heart and hope.

Winner of a Stonewall Book Award, respected poet Atta said of the novel: “I would like this book to show people some of the many ways you can f*** with gender rather than always being f***ed over by it.” While this may be a book written for young adults, it’s a delight to read, whatever your age.

Best: For LGBT+ history

Rating: 9/10

Part memoir, part LGBT+ history book, this substantial graphic novel takes a witty and creative approach to this seminal part of British history. From humble beginnings in the South Yorkshire town of Barnsley, to her transition into a self-proclaimed “dyke about town”, this is a heart-warming and humbling look at the remarkable fight for equality LGBT+ people have been forced to endure simply for being their authentic selves.

Highlighting the lives of lesser-known figures from the community, such as Jackie Forster and Nancy Spain, to pivotal players such as Lady Phyll and Peter Tatchell (who continue to be major voices in the equalities movement), this important book combines key moments from LGBT+ history, such as Section 28, the first Pride march and the arrival of Aids, with personal and professional anecdotes that reflect the era. While the pain of parental rejection and bigoted media reports sadly continue to be felt today, there’s much to celebrate in this entertaining and educational tome.

Best: For laughs

Rating: 10/10

This flawless collection of essays by US comedian and author Samantha Irby combines candid emotional output with laugh-out-loud humour to triumphant effect. Written on the brink of her fortieth birthday, Irby contemplates the shifts in a life that has shifted from riotous all-nighters to “girls gone mild”.

Subjects under scrutiny include making friends as an adult, smartphone addiction, lesbian bed death – “the most I’ve been asked to do before f****ng a woman is shoo the cat off the bed beforehand” – incontinence, loathing (of oneself and the wider populous) and life itself – “a mistake and everyone is trash”.

A welcome hiatus from the cacophony of millennial voices eulogising about skincare regimes – “I don’t drink water and my blood type is pizza” – this book makes you feel less alone. Misanthropy might not be cool, but Irby makes it funny as hell.

Best: For learning about gender

Rating: 10/10

This beautifully curated collection of essays is a welcome tonic in a cultural climate that seems hellbent on misunderstanding and misrepresenting those who do not fall into gender binaries. With a focus on intersections, this anthology specifically aims to examine the ways in which a person’s other identities – such as being a parent, having a faith, being black or having a disability – intersect with their non-binary identity.

Some writing on gender can often be inaccessible and academic, so it was a pleasure to read a collection of essays that were highly personal, thoughtful and immensely insightful. From “gender euphoria” to “radical softness”, working through each contribution felt like having an illuminating conversation with the most informed and thoughtful person you know.

This diverse group of individuals have done the work in picking apart the norms that prevail in many societies and discovered how prescriptive and stifling these can be. The overriding message is that non-binary people exist in multiple forms – that there is no “right way” to be non-binary – but there is plenty more to learn besides. Essential reading for anyone wishing to learn more about the wonderful diversity of humans. Furthermore, profits from the sale of this book will go to organisations supporting marginalised trans and non-binary folks.

Best: Literary read

Rating: 10/10

Winner of the 2021 Rathbones Folio Prize and 2020 Lambda Literary LGBTQ Nonfiction award, Carmen Maria Machado’s astonishing account of the abuse she was subjected to by her ex-partner is equal parts poetry and horror. With unwavering frankness, Machado describes the initial rapture of her first same-sex relationship and its subsequent distortion into violence and fear.

Deftly chronicling the shame, disbelief and immobilising nature of abuse, Machado utilises different literary forms to describe her experience, such as folk tale tropes and genres, an approach that only serves to add to the unsettling sense that permeates the book. Some “chapters” are a single sentence – “dream house as epiphany: most types of domestic abuse are completely legal” – and her ability to make language sing is absolutely remarkable. The book also exists as an essential addition to a limited archive documenting same-sex abuse. A towering achievement from a truly outstanding writer.

Best: Poignant read

Rating: 10/10

Louis’ devastating memoir reflects on his relationship with his father who, at the age of 50, is close to death. In less than 90 pages, Louis describes the casual violence, poverty, homophobia and shame that blight both father and son, while laying full responsibility at the feet of a political elite whose policies mean the difference between life and death for society’s most vulnerable.

It’s no coincidence that the book’s title lacks a question mark; Louis has receipts and names names. But it’s not all horror – tenderness, growth and honesty all feature, but it’s the lack of autonomy, the predictability of poverty and the anger this invariably generates that’s the real gut punch. A masterful work from an underrepresented voice, which reminds us that the political is intrinsically personal.

Best: New British novelist

Rating: 8/10

A fearless and hopeful account of one black man’s entry into adulthood that explores identity, family and sexuality against the backdrop of the Windrush legacy. Beginning with the arrival of his ancestors from Jamaica to the UK in the 1950s, Mendez deftly portrays the systemic discrimination and violence faced by black people, both then and now.

The story then moves to Jesse, a young man brought up as a Jehovah’s Witness, coming to terms with his sexuality in a family and religion that refuses to accept him. The novel follows him to London where he learns about independence, sex, love and class in often heart-breaking and joyful ways. Featuring one of the best Christmas Day scenes devoted to print, this is a wonderful read from an exciting new voice in British fiction.

Best: Memoir

Rating: 8/10

As a trans woman of colour, Shraya writes with painful authority about the avalanche of violence she is subjected to. From her clothing, to her usage of exclamation marks in communication to “soften” her message and avoid “agitating or offending” men, Shraya’s experiences lead her to conclude that “the only time I can make choices about how I want to look, act [and] communicate is when I’m inside my apartment”.

In addition to the transmisogyny she faces, Shraya writes with clarity about boundaries and queer spaces, the epidemic of male violence, and how we need to discard the archetype of the “good man” for a more nuanced conversation around masculinity. Accessible, essential and all too relatable, this is a thought-provoking discussion of vital issues that affect us all.

Best: For understanding the migrant experience

Rating: 8/10

Sacrifice and survival are the major themes in this absorbing novel that follows Patsy as she leaves behind her five-year-old daughter in Jamaica in the hope of a better life (and love) in the US. Instead of the American dream and a romantic reunion with her childhood sweetheart, Patsy quickly discovers the reality of life as a black, undocumented immigrant in a racist world. Left with her absent biological father, the book also charts her daughter Tru’s struggles as she grows up with her own secrets.

As well as examining the specific challenges faced by those at the intersection of race and class, Patsy also represents those women who fail to conform to societal expectations – be it as mothers, carers, or through sexuality and gender. A thoughtful and enjoyable portrayal of a woman seeking freedom, at all costs – and the 2020 Lambda Lesbian Fiction award winner.