LGBTQ Books
she’d attended book groups where she felt she “couldn’t be fully truthful” about herself.
Vasey, who identifies as aromantic and asexual, says part of what’s made Prologue’s
clubs successful is that they are #OwnVoices both in the titles selected and by virtue
of her involvement. “You can’t have someone who’s not part of the LGBTQ+ com-
munity running an LGBTQ+ book club, because there won’t be any authenticity,” she
says. Another factor: many of the participants are drawn to an LGBTQ space not
centered on alcohol.
Both clubs read the same books, and Vasey calls the varying approaches “fasci-
nating.” In the Allies group, which also has many LGBTQ members, “whenever
LGBTQ+-specific topics come up, things that the allies maybe haven’t thought of
before, we’ll see them fall silent, which in a way is a good thing, because they’re letting
the LGBTQ+ folks tell their truths. There’s a reverence going on, like, ‘I’m in your
space, I should listen to you.’ ”
E.R. Anderson, executive director at Charis Circle, which runs Decatur, Ga.’s Charis
Books and More, says the shop’s ATL LGBTQ+ book club focuses less on political
theory and more on fun books, chosen by members, though all of its book clubs “end
up being pretty queer.” Run by a community member, the club usually has about 30
attendees across the spectrum of race and gender, typically ranging in age from their
20s to 50s, a group that, he says, often doubles as a dating pool.
Bookmarks, a nonprofit bookstore in Winston-Salem, N.C., started its LGBTQ
book club in 2018 in partnership with Pride Winston-Salem; meetings usually draw
10–15 attendees. Operations director Jamie Rogers Southern says older titles—
Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin and A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood—have
been among the most popular, as has Alison Bechdel’s graphic memoir Fun Home, for
which Bookmarks partnered with a local theater company doing a production of the
stage adaptation. The club deliberately steers away from academic topics in favor of
more narrative books, to draw in newcomers.Peer support
While some clubs have had consistent success, others have struggled to find regular
attendees, especially those trying to appeal to teenagers. Candace Robinson, a book-
seller at Vintage Books in Vancouver, Wash., paused the shop’s teen LGBTQ book
club while she does outreach to local schools, therapists, and a children’s home society.
Robinson says teens are wary of attending a meeting alone but might be more inter-
ested if they knew their peers were attending.
Similarly, Mariana Calderon, store man-
ager at Denver’s Second Star to the Right,
started a YA book club, Not-So-Straight on
’Til Morning, in 2018 after the store moved
to a location near a high school. “I’m a queer
person of color and have found that YA books
are at the forefront of doing this sort of
important representation,” Calderon says.
But despite having a designated Instagram
account for the club and choosing new
releases that are “as diverse as possible,” she
has only had minimal attendance, though
she’s hoping to boost that with the help of
the store’s YA advisory board. “You can’t tell
teens what to do and you can’t tell people
that this is a safe space; they have to experi-
ence that before they trust it,” she adds. “As
of now, my dormant book club is completelyPUBLISHING
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The LGBTQ adult book club display at
Vintage Books in Vancouver, Wash.© candace robinson