Anyone who knows me has likely heard me begging for more queer stories—especially those featuring happy, “normal” BIPOC characters. I am craving narratives that aren’t centred on pain and suffering tied to a character’s queerness or transness.
I am tired of reading stories where queer and trans folks are expected to justify their humanity. I’m tired of the expectation that they must struggle through life simply because of who they are and how they move through the world. In these stories, queer joy often appears as a radiant but short-lived glimmer rather than the everyday norm. Worst of all, their queerness is treated as the sole defining feature of their lives.
These depictions are one-dimensional and reductive; they are othering and, frankly, dehumanising. When stories are filled with trauma for the sake of trauma, it feels as though authors are trying to score cheap points at the expense of their queer readers.
This paints a false picture of the queer experience and reinforces the dangerous idea that to be queer or trans is to live a life of inherent suffering. As queer readers, we often fail to see ourselves represented in the narrative ecology in ways that are healthy or that challenge these harmful tropes.
Of course, literature has a role in exposing and dismantling the colonial legacies that lead to marginalisation. But literature must also be a place where queer joy is made imaginable and amplified.
I am fortunate enough to have a queer life that is abundant, connected, adventurous, sensuous, joyful, complex, beautiful, kinky, accountable, attuned, pleasurable and—dare I say—intergalactic. I also experience pain and suffering (because of the human condition) and have dreams and aspirations outside of my gender and sexual identity, just as cishet people do.
So, this Black History Month, I’m offering a list of uplifting books for anyone who is tired of reading about queer Black people suffering.
The Recommendations
- Pleasure Activism by adrienne maree brown. Even if you only manage to read the first essay, “Uses of the Erotic” by Audre Lorde, you’ve done well.
- Rosewater by Liv Little. Elsie’s shenanigans will make you feel truly seen. It’s cute, funny, and deeply lovable. For me, this is the queer romance of our time.
- We’ve Been Here: Celebrating the Resilience of Queer Kenyans by Kevin Mwachiro, Irungu and Karugu. I didn’t expect this collection of essays from older queer Kenyans to be so naughty! I read it in one sitting.
- Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi. While there is a traumatic underlying thread, there is a generous dose of joy and healing to balance it.
- Harriet Tubman Live in Concert: A Novel by Bob the Drag Queen. I haven’t read this one yet, but the title alone is giving.
- Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals by Alexis Pauline Gumbs
- Imagination: A Manifesto by Ruha Benjamin. I saw Ruha Benjamin give a keynote based on this work at the Mozilla Festival in 2025; my breath still catches when I think about how it made me feel.
- Black Futures edited by Kimberly Drew and Jenna Wortham. Everyone should own a copy of this incredible archive of Black art.
- How We Heal by Alex Elle. I’ve been following Alex Elle since the Tumblr days, and her words still ring as real as they did back then.
Ifeatu Nnaobi 