100 Books Like Kiss Number 8

To put this on a list of gay coming-of-age graphic novels feels potentially like a spoiler, but in the hopes that I’ll convince at least one other person to read this near-perfect book, I’ll take the risk!

A decade after its publication, few, if any, graphic novelists have managed to match the quality of this brilliantly written, elegantly drawn, subtly rendered, and wonderfully atmospheric book about two girls whose sexualities start to manifest during a summer vacation with their families.

Mariko and Jillian Tamaki are always brilliant, but this book remains, in my opinion, their best work.

Very few books have affected me more than this autobiographical Japanese manga. The book's author, artist, and protagonist is a young woman navigating her family relationships, mental health, and sexuality. In the grips of depression, desperate to be touched, the protagonist goes to an escort agency—but the plot is not the point.

Nagata’s willingness to “go there” feels so fresh, and is so vulnerable and heartfelt. As a queer person there was a lot to identify with, as a writer I took away a determination to try and be even half as vulnerable in my writing, and as a young woman I felt seen in a new way. 

This one has messy right in the title! Freddy keeps getting dumped by Laura Dean over and over. She gets so blinded by her “love” for Laura Dean that she takes her friends for granted. It’s a classic story with an LGBT+ twist. Part of what makes it stand out is the beautiful visual storytelling. I actually learned a lot from this one, as it’s quite different from the superhero comics I grew up with. There are moments in here where two hands will say a thousand words. 

I love Paper Girls because it’s a wild adventure with a great cast of dynamically written, queer girls. It’s a fantasy story that really grips the reader by the shirt collar and pulls them in. I definitely couldn’t put this one down because the story keeps you wanting MORE.

I have to again recommend this graphic novel for its gorgeous artwork and color palettes that really make it a feast for the eyes. 

It’s obvious from the first page that Barbara Carroll Roberts has spent hundreds (thousands?) of hours in stuffy gyms. Her know-how of the AAU circuit and the politics of competitive middle school basketball seep into the story in a way that will be recognized by current players.

I loved that aspect of the story, but even more, I loved the way this book honors the range of real-life issues affecting a player off the court, whether it’s the financial constraints due to being raised by a single parent or how differently a family tree project resonates when your dad is a sperm donor. Readers will find it impossible not to root for Nikki.

I love that this book takes a hard look at the perils, reality, and consequences of embracing truth.

It doesn’t sugar-coat the different attitudes and reactions of family members when Annie, with 3 adult children and 27 years of marriage, falls in love with Vivica. The aftermath of the seismic family upheaval reveals dark secrets about legacy, abuse, racial discrimination, revenge, class, and forgiveness.

For me reading this book was cutting edge because it was published not long after same-sex marriage was first made legal in the U.S., in Connecticut.

A bonus is that despite the family’s legacy of trauma the story ends on a note of love and hope.

I picked out this book because I wanted to read more indie Canadiana YA, and OMG, am I ever glad that this was my first pick!

It had music and private school drama (not the club), it was fun, I was invested, and I was really sad when it ended because I wanted to know what happened next.

I also loved the epistolary format. It made it feel like they were being written to me. I borrowed this one from the library and then bought it because I loved it so much.

This book sucker-punched me. Trigger warning for child abuse, gaslighting, alcoholism, drug abuse, EDs, Incest, and self-harm. Told entirely in verse, this novel follows the lives of identical twins, Kaeleigh and Raeanne, the seemingly perfect all-American girls. But each sister is hiding a dark secret. Raeanne uses drugs, alcohol, and sex to replace the love her father lavishes on her sister. Neither sister is holding onto their dark secrets very well, and pretty soon one will have to save the other. But who will step up? This novel was my first experience reading a novel in verse, and I still marvel at the technical skill it must have taken and the bruise my heart sustained in the process. 

When it comes to Constance Greene, I hardly know where to begin.

She’s certainly the oldest and most deadly character in fiction writing today. I say she’s the oldest because she’s trapped in the body of a thirty-something-year-old woman even though she was born in 1873, long story.

She appears as a supporting character in multiple novels, as the love interest of Detective Aloysius Pendergast, but she is so much more than that. She’s eloquent, brilliant, and does not succumb to emotional distress under any threat of death.

In Blue Labyrinth, eight highly trained mercenaries pursue her and none of them live to tell the tale. At her most ruthless, she can kill with any tool at her disposal and she is loyal to the man she loves.

A young man accused of murder stands before the jury in court. Fed up with his barrister’s advice to ‘only tell the jury what they can believe’ he makes his own closing speech. He tells ‘the whole truth’ in his own words. 

In setting out the details of his chaotic life, he aims to provide an innocent explanation for the eight pieces of circumstantial evidence against him. It’s only if the jury can understand what it’s like to be him (echoes here of Atticus Finch’s famous line, "You never really understand a person until you… climb into his skin and walk around in it.") that he will receive a fair trial.

A highly original angle for the modern, courtroom drama, executed to perfection. Clearly (as is only right) there’s a subtly-woven, social commentary agenda too.