My 15 Favorite Queer Books of All Time

This is a polyamorous queer vampire novel that’s about revenge and abusive relationships, told through a reimagining of Dracula’s brides. What puts this on my all-time favourites list is the atmosphere: it’s sexy, bloody, and sumptuous while also being a thoughtful meditation on abuse. It’s exactly what I want from a vampire story.

Here’s another atmospheric and absorbing read, this time in the sci-fi horror genre. I read this in one sitting, sucked into this claustrophobic story about exploring dangerous tunnels while having your life support suit controlled by a manipulative handler back on the surface. It is such a great combination of survival horror, psychological horror, and a Killing Eve-style unhealthy F/F relationship.

Oops, more sapphic vampires. I’ve written a lot about my fascination with Carmilla: she’s such a compelling queer villain. When I read Carmen Maria Machado’s edition, I was shocked by how much she was able to reframe this story just by adding an introduction and a few footnotes. I wrote a whole Book Riot post about it, so check it out for my full thoughts: Bringing the Lesbian Vampire Home: Carmen Maria Machado’s Reclamation of Carmilla.

While putting together this list, I mostly didn’t add recent reads. Even if I adored the book when I first read it, I don’t yet know if it has staying power. I had to make an exception for The Deep Dark, though, because it gives me the pinnacle of reading experiences. I picked it up before bed, meaning to read it for a chapter or two, and ended up staying up so I could finish all 500 pages in one sitting, after which I sobbed. It’s very rare that a book will make me cry, never mind full-out sob, so I had to recognize this one. You read my full thoughts here: This Queer Graphic Novel Had Me Sobbing at 3 A.M.

I’ve never understood the idea of a fictionalized memoir until I read this book. Amongst the beached mermaids and fairy tale elements of this story is sharp, unapologetic truth. I fell in love with the dreamlike, poetic prose that encompasses this narrative of transmisogyny, racism, police brutality, and self-harm. Kai Cheng Thom doesn’t shrink from this as she also reworks the idea of the trans memoir through fiction, allowing for more space and more magic. This is a beautiful read that grabbed me from the first page.

I may have started this list with horror, but cozy and kind queer reads are something I can never resist. The Tea Dragon series has multiple queer characters as well as disability representation, and I love the accepting and gentle atmosphere of this story. Also, the artwork is so adorable! I have a Tea Dragon art print framed beside my desk, and I am currently planning a tattoo of one of these little guys, so that has to count as a favourite.

This manga series is on my list for the same reason as the Tea Dragon Society series: it’s such an affirming, comforting, kind read. It’s a slice-of-life story about two women brought together by food who eventually fall in love. They have struggles with sexism and homophobia in their families and society, but the two of them are so supportive of each other and have healthy communication. As more characters get added to the series, it only reinforces that theme. I look forward to every volume; it always makes me feel comforted. (Which is especially useful in today’s political climate.)

Sometimes you need a cozy comforting queer story, and sometimes you need a brutal military fantasy novel about colonialism. The Unbroken was an absorbing if harrowing read, and I was a little nervous to pick up book two, because the first book was such an emotional roller coaster. I ended up liking the sequel—which is a little lighter—even better, and I can’t wait for the final book in the trilogy. The dynamic between the two main characters is fascinating, since they’re often on opposite sides of a conflict, but they can’t deny their pull towards each other.

I really appreciate how this book grapples with the darkest parts of being alive—including racism, sexism, and transphobia—while still feeling defiantly hopeful. It’s somehow simultaneously a fantasy about a deal with the devil, a sci-fi story about an alien running a donut shop, and a realistic coming-of-age about a trans teen runaway. It’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and entirely unique.

I love how this memoir experiments and breaks with the form of the genre: each chapter is told in a different style, including as a fairy tale, as a Choose Your Own Adventure story, as pulp fiction, and more. This combines Machado’s own experience of being in an abusive relationship with another woman with commentary and research about abusive queer relationships are depicted (or not depicted) in media. This was such an affirming read, told in a completely unique style.

We’re into my top five favourite queer books now! In essays varying in topic and tone, Leah explains the joys and difficulties of living a life of disability justice: disability activism that leads from the most affected, which means centring queer, trans, Black, Indigenous disabled/Mad/mentally ill people of colour. Disability justice sees ableism as intertwined with colonialism, capitalism, heteropatriarchy, and all of the other ways that bodies are policed and evaluated. This book absolutely blew my mind when I first read it, and I feel like I’ll have to read it many more times just to scratch the surface of how much is explored here.

This is a steampunk reimagining of the history of Congo. Belgium’s brutal colonization is facing opposition from the technological advancements of the people of Congo. African Americans buy a plot of land there to establish a utopia named Everfair. This project is examined from many different points of view, from the Chinese laborers brought in by King Leopold II to work on the railroad, to the formerly enslaved people building a new home there, to the former rulers of Congo trying to regain their power, to the white funders of Everfair. This is such a multi-faceted look at the situation, and woven throughout is a complicated romantic relationship between two women as it transforms over years.

This book gave me a reading experience I’ve never had with any other story: I had to put the book down after the first few pages and take a lap in my living room before I continued reading because I was too excited. The art! The narration! The surreal worldbuilding! The cleverness! This is a feminist, queer retelling of The Arabian Nights with beautiful artwork and a sense of humor that would make Kate Beaton proud. It’s currently being adapted as a movie, which I’m skeptical about, but you can bet I’ll be there on opening night.

This may not take my #1 spot as my favourite book, but I do think it’s the best book I’ve ever read. It follows a thief, Sue, who poses as a maid to convince a wealthy woman, Maude, to marry her accomplice so they can access her inheritance. But as Sue spends time with Maude, she begins to fall for her. Can she go through with this betrayal? Is it already too late? The romance and tension are fantastic, but it’s the plot that keeps twisting on itself that makes this the best book I’ve ever read. I recommend reading this and then watching The Handmaiden, because that adaptation is in conversation with the book in very interesting ways.

Yes, my top two favourite books are both by Sarah Waters. I just love her writing style! Besides, I read this at a pivotal time in the throes of teenage heartbreak, and it convinced me I would love again. Plus, it’s a lesbo-Victorian romp (as the author describes it). It’s strange, sexy, fun, and surprising. This has been my #1 favourite since I read it half a lifetime ago, and I’ll be surprised if anything ever unseats it.