Boy Like Me by Simon James Green

Boy Like Me by Simon James Green is honestly one of the books I remember best from 2023. The narration is sharp and witty, the romance is tender and sweet, and the cutting comments about Section 28 were deeply appreciated by my little 80s-child heart.

Boy Like Me follows Jamie (not that Jamie, or this James) through his final year of secondary school in 1994. With book bans common-place under the rules of Section 28, a kind librarian sneaks Jamie a novel which helps him to make sense of how he’s feeling, and through notes in the margins, helps him to connect with another Boy Like Him (see what I did there? 😉 )

This book is a fantastic YA offering which not only provides a deeply satisfying romance, but also explores life at a time when it was effectively illegal to speak about homosexuality in British schools. It’s something that I feel is more important now than ever, with the UK creating an increasingly hostile environment for the trans community. Looking back at the arguments made for Section 28, it’s clear to see where a lot of the anti-trans rhetoric is coming from; we’ve been here before. Equipping young people with the tools they need to see through this is essential, and Boy Like Me is a great way to open these conversations if you’ve not had them before.

As an adult reading this book, I really appreciated the 90s nostalgia, so if you’ve got older children who are past the point of being read to, this is a great book to read alongside them and discuss. When Eldest kiddo stopped asking for me to read, I found that being able to enjoy the same novels was a key way to stay connected through stories, and this one was a genuine joy.

What books would you recommend to teen readers? Are there any YA books you’ve read along with older children, and if so what are they?

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I’ve set up a ‘bookshop‘ of sorts, over on Bookshop.org, so that I can point you to somewhere to buy that isn’t Amazon. I get a small commission for any sales made there. This helps to support me running this blog. If you’d like to get your copy of Boy Like Me this way, please just click here. If you’d like to support me without buying a book, you can do so here. Thank you.

Glitter Boy by Ian Eagleton

This is a screenshot taken from Ian’s Bluesky feed- you should go and give him a follow if you don’t already

Ian Eagleton, like most children’s authors I’ve spoken to via social media, is actually one of the loveliest people. I remember watching on Twitter, back in the day, when Mariah Carey – yes, ACTUALLY Mariah Carey – praised his book. It was one of – if not the most – magical thing I ever saw unfold on the platform.

Naturally, being a trendsetter, I’d already read Glitter Boy by that point, and I absolutely agreed.

Glitter Boy is a story about grief, and figuring out who you are, and acceptance, and hope. It follows James, who loves dancing to Mariah Carey with his Nan, but who is being bullied at school for being gay, even though that’s not a label he’s attached to himself. While James is very much the main character, the main character arc of the story – to me at least – felt like James’s dad’s. Initially, he spends a good chunk of the book trying to get James to conform, in an effort to make his life easier, but towards the end, he accepts that it’s everyone else who needs to change, and becomes a good advocate for James.

I really love the complex and loving family that Eagleton has written in this book – I love that James’s dad is the primary carer, and that he needs to work through his own ideas of what masculinity means in order to better be there for his son. I love that some questionable actions are coming from a place of good intentions; parents are fallible and in having James’s dad own his mistakes, it almost gives any parents reading permission to do so. And it lets young readers see that change is possible, that grown-ups can be wrong too – and that we can right ourselves. The reasons James’s dad gives for his actions might also help children to understand some of the – admittedly questionable – choices adults make.

I think I said this before, when speaking about Jamie by LD Lapinski, but I’m never really sure how much of myself to put into these reviews. Books are art, and good art elicits emotion, after all. So, I think mentioning my own relationship with my Nan adds something here. My Nan – my best friend – died when I was in my early 20s; I was in the final throes of my dissertation and working an almost-full time job to get by. I didn’t really have time to grieve. My grief came in little waves at inconvenient moments through the later years. Reading this book and getting to grieve along with James was cathartic, even after all this time. So if there has been a death in your family, this might be the ideal book to offer to any child currently grieving.

What are your favourite books with fallible adult characters? Have you read Glitter Boy yet, or did you see Mariah’s post? As ever, I would love to hear from you.

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I’ve set up a ‘bookshop‘ of sorts, over on Bookshop.org, so that I can point you to somewhere to buy that isn’t Amazon. I get a small commission for any sales made there. This helps to support me running this blog. If you’d like to get your copy of Glitter Boy this way, please just click here. If you’d like to support me without buying a book, you can do so here. Thank you.

Jamie by LD Lapinski

Jamie by LD Lapinski is an absolute beauty of a book. When Wonderland Books asked ‘Which children’s book have you recently read do you wish had existed when you were a child?’ this was the story which sprung to mind.

Jamie follows the eponymous, non-binary character as they transition up to secondary. With a town that only has an all girls- or all boys-school, Jamie needs to make a decision as to which they’ll attend. Sick of being forced into an arbitrary binary, Jamie and their friends decide to make a stand…

I’m never quite sure as to how much of myself to put into these reviews – it’s often difficult to strike a balance, given that books are art, and art solicits emotional responses. In this case though, I think it probably adds something to say that as someone who never really conformed to gender stereotypes, this book spoke to a part of me that as a child, would have found great comfort and solidarity in the character of Jamie. Am I non-binary? I don’t think so; agender, probably, but labels never seem to fit me with ease. Still, seeing someone defy the forced and artificial segregation of children would have soothed some part of my soul in early adolescence. I would have felt less broken growing up, and less at odds with the world.

There’s the old adage that we cannot be what we cannot see, and so books like this one are absolutely essential for young people. With such a small percentage of the population being trans, non-binary, and agender, it’s likely that a lot of young people will grow up without personally knowing anyone impacted by the themes in this book. For those who are gender non-conforming, readers can find a friend of sorts in Jamie. For those who aren’t, Jamie is a wonderfully sympathetic figure to root for, and can hopefully show that those outside the binary aren’t any kind of threat, despite the loud rhetoric in this increasingly transphobic world.

The clear importance of the book aside, Jamie is just a crackingly good story. It’s told with the humour that makes Lapinski’s books so deeply enjoyable, as well as the heart which makes them stay with you. The families seem real and… well, familiar, rather than the polished and sanitised versions that are so common in children’s literature. Parents are imperfect and relatable for adult readers, though are always clearly loving and doing their best.

Usually, when we finish a book, we pass it along to school so that a) we don’t drown in the number of books that pass through this house, and b) school’s library stays current. In this case, neither I nor the children could part with our copy of Jamie. So I bought school their own one. I can’t recommend this book enough.

Which begs the question: Which books do you wish existed when you were a child? Which books came into your life at just the right moment? I’d love to have a read.

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I’ve set up a ‘bookshop’ of sorts, over on Bookshop.org, so that I can point you to somewhere to buy that isn’t Amazon. I get a small commission for any sales made there. This helps to support me running this blog. If you’d like to get your copy of Jamie this way, please just click here. If you’d like to support me without buying a book, you can do so here. Thank you.

The Secret Sunshine Project by Benjamin Dean and Sandhya Prabhat

The Secret Sunshine Project by Benjamin Dean and Sandhya Prabhat is one of the amazing novels that my children got in their advent calendar from the superb Wonderland Books.

The story follows Bea, as her happy family of four become a sadder family of three. After the death of her dad, Bea’s family starts to struggle financially and it becomes necessary to move in with Bea’s grandmother – far away from London in the countryside.

The countryside – miles and miles from London Pride, where Bea’s family was last happy. Miles and miles from the one event that Bea and her sister Riley were looking forward to. So Bea decides to take matters into her own hands, and begins The Secret Sunshine Project. If she and Riley can’t go to Pride, she’s going to bring Pride to this village – whether her gran’s arch-nemesis and head of the village council likes it or not!

I really, really loved this book. Though it dealt with incredibly serious subjects – family death, financial instability, systemic racism, as well as trans- and homo-phobia – The Secret Sunshine Project never once felt hopeless. Whilst I loved Norah’s Ark, there were times when I needed to put the book down and take a moment because of the subject matter, but that didn’t once happen here. I read the whole thing in a single, joyful sitting, and came away from it feeling uplifted.

The book doesn’t end perfectly, and any resolution the characters enjoy is a temporary respite in the grand scheme of things, but it felt real, and honest, and hopeful nevertheless.

The ‘dead parent’ trope is one that’s used fairly commonly in children’s fiction – and I should know, I used it myself in my upcoming novel – but it’s sometimes feels like it isn’t properly dealt with. I thought The Secret Sunshine Project did an absolutely wonderful job of this though.

What are your favourite books for Pride month? I would especially love to hear about those by LGBT+ authors – especially trans authors at this time.

Fran ❤

I’ve set up a ‘bookshop‘ of sorts, over on Bookshop.org, so that I can point you to somewhere to buy that isn’t Amazon. I get a small commission for any sales made there. This helps to support me running this blog. If you’d like to get your copy of The Secret Sunshine Project this way, please just click here. Thank you for your support.

The Girl Who Talked to Trees by by Natasha Farrant and Lydia Corry 

This is a gorgeous concept-album of a book. Following the story of Olive, The Girl Who Talked to Trees by by Natasha Farrant and Lydia Corry, is about the life of an oak across the ages, but also about the other trees close by.

When ‘her’ oak is threatened with removal, Olive sends out a wish, hoping to figure out how to save it. In her dreams, the trees begin to tell her tales of their lives across time – a series of self-contained, yet interconnected short stories which cover the mythology and facts about different types of trees. On waking, Olive uses these tales to advocate for her oak, and ultimately save it.

The connection between people and the natural world is beautifully explored in this book, not just in the present day, but also across history. The differences between how people treat some kinds of tree compared to others is also touched upon, as is the way we conceptualise the forest, verses individual trees.

I actually listened to this as an audiobook, so wasn’t aware how beautifully illustrated the physical copy is. Researching for this post, though, led me to some photos of amazing full colour illustrated spreads, and I think I might have to invest in my own copy. It was amazing to listen to this book, but I’d like to be able to enjoy the glorious artwork too.

This is a rare look at the very personal side of felling trees, and the way in which individuals interact and form relationships with single plants. It reminds me of a line from Oak and Ash and Thorn, by Peter Fiennes where he asserts that whilst Britain loves trees, we’re afraid of the woods. That really plays out here, across the series of short stories.

If you’d like more books on nature, the environment, plants, or the climate crisis, there’s a short list here. Hopefully I’ve included something for everyone:

Terra Electrica (Middle Grade)
Global (Graphic Novel)
Feast of Ashes (Young Adult)
This Book is Not Rubbish (Non-fiction)
Ruby Nettleship and the Ice Lolly Adventure (Picture Book)
Plant the Tiny Seed (Picture Book)
We Travel So Far (Picture Book)
A Swift Return (Picture Book)

What are your favourite nature books for children? Do you know of any others told in this short-story format? As always, I would love to hear your recommendations! ❤

Fran xx

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I’ve set up a ‘bookshop‘ of sorts, over on Bookshop.org, so that I can point you to somewhere to buy that isn’t Amazon. I get a small commission for any sales made there. This helps to support me running this blog. If you’d like to get your copy of The Girl Who Talked to Trees this way, please just click here. Thank you for your support.