97 Books Like Katy Has Two Grampas

I grew up in NJ, so I visited the Central Park Zoo as a child.

I still remember when I first learned about Silo and Roy adopting Tango. Who knew such a sweet story would turn into one of the most banned books of the last two decades?

I still get teary-eyed when reading this heart-warming story. I’ve been hoping for years that they would create a follow-up story about Tango, who grew up and cared for an egg with another female penguin!

I suspect that this book has inspired the many zookeepers around the world who now give other same-sex penguin couples a chance to adopt eggs. 

I enjoyed the mix of humans and animals to demonstrate “there are lots of different ways to be a family.”

Child-like drawings of humans highlight diversity by straying away from realistic representations of skin color and instead using a range of bright colors like pink, orange, purple, and yellow.

The animal families add humor to the story, making it more playful and enjoyable for the child reader. By treating human and animal families the same, it also subtly reminds us that we are part of the larger animal family, extending the concepts of empathy and compassion towards all beings, human and animal.

This is almost the direct human counterpart to my book Love in the Wild, even starting with the same “Love is…” It celebrates love through everyday acts of kindness, compassion, and togetherness.

The book highlights diverse families through the illustrations only, as there is no need to mention different types of families in the text. It doesn’t matter who is in a family because it is love that makes a family a family.

This book gets triple points in my opinion, as it specifically addresses adoption by two dads who are an interracial couple. There are very few children’s books that cover all of these topics and even fewer that do it as simplistic and easy as this one. We have this one in our personal library and it has been one of our go-to books for helping our own daughter who my husband and I adopted.  

I love this book because it is both totally surprising and, at the same time, familiar. Sylvia and Charity lived together for more than 40 years in the early 1800s in New England, and their neighbors acknowledged their status as devoted partners.

Cleves is a masterful storyteller. Reading the book, I was captivated by these two remarkable women. When I finished the book, I realized I had a completely different understanding of queer relationships in early America.

This highly readable book allows us to hear from one of the actual parties to a Supreme Court case. Jim Obergefell and his co-author, Debbie Cenziper, invite us into the twined lives of Obergefell and his beloved, John Arthur. 

In 2013 Obergefell and Arthur, who was dying painfully from ALS, flew from their home in Ohio to Maryland, where gay marriage was recognized, to exchange vows. But Ohio refused to acknowledge their marriage and would insist that Arthur’s death certificate must describe him as single. As Arthur lay on his deathbed, he and Obergefell contracted with civil rights attorney Al Gerhardstein to pursue the lawsuit that would become Obergefell v. Hodges, in which the Supreme Court held that the states must recognize same-sex marriages. Gerhardstein always insisted that every civil rights case starts with a story. This one could melt a heart of stone.

This is the first of a trilogy of which any book in the series is worth reading. In this farce written long before marriage equality, a gay man hatches an outlandish scheme to throw a wedding, just for the expensive gifts. What follows is a comedy that incorporates blackmail and the mafia. You read this novel for pure pleasure, enjoying the clever one-liners while the plot spirals out of control. Flamboyant, camp, and ridiculously funny.

In this follow-up to Prince and Knight by Daniel Haack, our two heroes fight a dark shadow spread over the kingdom. Their love is tested when the prince saves the knight’s life from beasts and monsters. When they reach the Shadow King, the cause of the darkness,  he sees the love between the prince and knight, which gives him hope for the future. He realizes that it’s okay to love someone of the same gender.

The book has beautiful messages of acceptance, forgiveness, and being proud of your own authentic self. The illustrations are charming, like an animated film.

I highly recommend this book because it is a great history lesson about the first gay marriage in 1971 when Jack Baker and Michael McConnell struggled to get a marriage license in Minnesota. They appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court, but the case was dismissed. It wasn’t until 2013, when Minnesota made it legal for gay marriage that Jack and Michael’s marriage was finally publicly acknowledged. Two years later, in 2015, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of marriage equality.

This story resonates with me personally because my husband and I live in Minnesota, where we were married in 2014. 

I view this book as an equal mix of cosmic deep-sea horror, exploration of loneliness, and marital devotion.

I really appreciate that this book follows two flawed women across multiple periods of time, on land and in the deep sea, and across the full length of their relationship. The weight of one of them disappearing beneath the ocean for months profoundly affects both of them–mentally, emotionally, and physically–in different and weird ways, but underneath everything is an enduring love.

I particularly enjoyed the slow-moving body horror in this one, plus the escalating creep of being stuck at the bottom of the ocean for months and the overarching terror of losing the one you love.