Books
Oft banned gay author’s new kids’ book a fun treat
‘Monster Mac and Cheese Party’ brimming with humor, color
It’s the hottest party ever! A green, one-eyed, three-toothed fuzzy monster has invited a sea monster, a bat, a witch, and other guests to bring and eat mac and cheese. The witch favors “glow-in-the-dark mac with snakes and furballs.” The bat enjoys “mac ‘n’ bugs.”
Whether you’re eight or 80, wouldn’t you like to crash this gathering?
Thanks to bestselling, award-winning, gay children’s book author and artist Todd Parr, we can all join in the fun.
“The Monster Mac and Cheese Party” (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers), Todd’s newest book, replete with his signature, eye-catching art, is a celebration of hanging out and scarfing down your fave food with your friends (monsters and human). The picture book written for 4-8 year-olds, is a fun-read for mac-and-cheese-and-monster-aficionados of any age. Except, perhaps, for those who’ve called for Parr’s books to be banned.
Parr, author of “It’s Okay to Be Different,” “The Family Book” and other much-loved as well as often-banned children’s books, is known for fostering values of kindness and inclusivity in his work. Not through preaching or boring messaging. But through bold images — art brimming with humor and bright colors. There are few words. But the words Parr uses are just what kids would say.
Take “The Family Book” which features Parr’s bright-hued illustrations. “Some families are big, some families are small,” Parr, who was born in 1962, writes in “The Family Book,” published in 2003, “… some families have two moms and two dads.”
You might think this message of inclusivity wouldn’t have caused a ruckus. But you’d be wrong. “The Family Book” was one of the most banned picture books of the 2021-2022 school year, according to Pen America.
“Every time a book is banned, we’re denied our right to learn freely,” the American Civil Liberties Union said in a statement accompanying a video of actor Randall Park reading “The Family Book” on Father’s Day on You Tube.
“My goal in the book was to make every kid feel that no matter what kind of family they have, that their family is special,” Parr, who lives in Southern California with his adopted pit bulls, said in an interview with the Blade.
Parr knew some people might not like “The Family Book” and that it might be banned. “It didn’t matter to me,” he said, “One page [that mentions two moms or two dads being parents] generates a lot of hate.”
“Like drag queens reading stories to kids,” Parr added, “it’s a free-for-all on social media.”
Parr wrote the mac-and-cheese book because after the pandemic, kids “needed a break,” he said.
After COVID, “we didn’t want to think about the feelings we’ve experienced,” Parr said, “we just wanted to feel good again.”
His publisher had asked him to do a Halloween book, and mac and cheese is one of Parr’s favorite things. The book contains kid-friendly recipes for “Todd Mac” and “Vegan Mac”.
“Thick black lines and neon colors make for a zany tale,” “Kirkus” said of “The Monster Mac and Cheese Party, ” “perfect for group read-alouds. Parr keeps the laughs coming fast and furious.”
Parr has written and illustrated more than 60 children’s books. His work has been translated into 20 languages. More than 6.3 million copies of his books have been sold.
Parr is the co-creator with Gerry Renert of SupperTime Entertainment of the Daytime Emmy-nominated animated TV series “ToddWorld.” Several short films for “Sesame Street” were based on Parr’s work.
Parr gets what it’s like to feel different, hurt or sad, Juanita Giles wrote in “When In Doubt Pretend To Be Todd Parr,” an essay for NPR. “Todd Parr knows my son’s long hair makes him different,” Giles wrote, “Todd Parr knows our best friends moved away and our dog died.”
Growing up gay in a small town in Wyoming, Parr had no inkling that he’d be so successful, acclaimed and loved.
“I never had a moment where I told everybody ‘I’m gay,’” Parr said, “It was a matter of fact and no one really questioned it.”
But things weren’t easy. Parr wasn’t sure himself. “I had girlfriends,” he said, “I felt guilty that I had feelings [of liking boys] but I did.”
In school, people called Parr a “faggot” before he knew what it meant. “I felt very different like I was on another planet,” he said.
Growing up, being gay wasn’t Parr’s only challenge. “I had to repeat second grade,” he said, “because I couldn’t read.”
“They thought I was lazy,” Parr added.
Years later, Parr learned that he had dyslexia and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). People didn’t know what these disabilities were when he was in school.
“My grandpa on my Dad’s side was talented,” Parr said, “and my grandma on my Mom’s side was talented and creative.”
In the second grade, Parr focused on drawing. He won an art contest but his parents didn’t believe that he’d drawn the picture. “They thought I traced it,” Parr said.
Parr felt that he had to get out of his home town. “There was energy calling me,” he said, “there was a bigger world out there. I knew, one day, I would leave Wyoming.”
Parr became a flight attendant for United for 15 years. “That job – traveling around the world – gave me confidence,” Parr said.
Parr traveled to new cities. He went back to art with a new sense of confidence. With role models like Keith Haring, the renowned American gay artist. “Haring showed you that art can be whimsical,” Parr said, “that you could use bright colors.”
Parr lived in San Francisco. He began to have some success with his art. His work was displayed in one of Wolf Gang Puck’s restaurants.
But Parr was still borrowing money and flying for United. “I was spinning my wheels,” he said.
He decided to perform a magic show (that he did for kids) in Las Vegas. There, he met his agent – a married couple who understood his work. They got him a literary agent. “It freed me up to do creative things,” Parr said.
One day, Parr was showing his work at a show in New York. “I don’t like to read,” Parr said when he was asked if he’d thought about writing children’s books.
Parr signed with Little Brown for Young Readers when he realized he was on to something. He could write books for kids with his arts with messages (but without characters).
For a time, Parr felt apologetic about his dyslexia. “I’m not qualified to be up there [because of his struggles in school],” he said when he was asked to give a keynote speech.
But after talking with his editor about his fears, Parr wondered: why shouldn’t he own his dyslexia? Why not be honest and talk about it?
“It opened a path for me,” Parr said.
Parr’s website is toddparr.com.
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Books
I’m a lesbian and LGBTQ books would have changed my life
Misguided parents pushing Montgomery County court case
As a child born in Maryland in the 80’s, I had very few LGBTQ+ role models other than Elton John and Ellen DeGeneres. In high school, I went through the motions of going out on Friday nights with boyfriends and dancing with them at prom, but I felt nothing. I desperately wanted to fit in, and it took me until my senior year of high school to finally admit to myself that I was different – and that it hurt too much to hide it anymore.
When I think back on those years, I feel the heartache and pain all over again. I used to lay awake at night begging God not to make me gay. When a boy on my Cross Country team accused me and my friends of being lesbians, I scoffed and said, “You wish.” I hid my true self in cheap wine coolers while my hate for myself festered.
I found healing in books, my creative writing class, and my school’s literary magazine. Writing allowed me to hold up a mirror to myself and see that I could be many things: a loving daughter and sister, a supportive friend, a dedicated member of the Cross Country team, and also a girl who wanted a girlfriend. In my love poems, I evolved from ambiguous pronouns to distinctly feminine ones. When I felt ready to tell my best friend, I showed her one of my poems. To my surprise, the world did not end. She smiled and said, “It’s a good poem. Are you ready to go to the mall?”
I’m one of the lucky ones. When I finally did come out to my parents, they told me they would always love me and want me to be happy. That’s not the case for more than 40% of LGBTQ+ youth, who are kicked out of their homes after they find the courage to tell their family who they truly are. We are facing a mental health epidemic among LGBTQ+ youth, with 41% seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year, the vast majority living in homes that aren’t accepting.
Some of the dissenting parents in Mahmoud vs. Taylor argue that inclusive books aren’t appropriate for elementary school kids. To clarify, these books are simply available in schools – they aren’t required reading for anyone. There is nothing sexual or provocative about stories like “Uncle Bobby’s Wedding” or “Jacob’s Room to Choose” that send a very simple, non-political message: We all are different, and we all deserve to be treated with respect. Opting out of books that show diversity, out of fear that it might “make kids gay” fails to recognize a fundamental truth: art, pop culture, even vegan food cannot make someone gay. I was born this way. There were times I wished that I wasn’t, and that was because I didn’t have books like these telling me it was OK to be who I am.
I wonder how many parents opting out of these books will end up having a LGBTQ+ child. It is both horrible and true that these parents have two choices: love and accept your LGBTQ+ child, or risk losing them. Now that I’m a parent myself, I feel more than ever that our one aim in parenthood is to love our kids for exactly who they are, not who we want them to be.
For several years, a grocery store in Silver Spring, Md., displayed a poem I wrote for my mother in my school’s literary magazine. I wrote about how she taught me that red and blue popples can play together, and that Barbie doesn’t need Ken to be happy. I imagine that maybe, a girl passing through the store read that poem and saw a glimpse of herself inside. That spark of recognition – of I’m not the only one – is all I wanted as a child. I was able to find my happiness and my community, and I want every LGBTQ+ child to be able to do the same.
Joanna Hoffman was born and raised in Silver Spring, Md. She is the author of the poetry collection ‘Running for Trap Doors’ (Sibling Rivalry Press) and is the communications director for LPAC, the nation’s only organization dedicated to advancing the political representation of LGBTQ+ women and nonbinary candidates.
Books
A boy-meets-boy, family-mess story with heat
New book offers a stunning, satisfying love story
‘When the Harvest Comes’
By Denne Michele Norris
c.2025, Random House
$28/304 pages
Happy is the bride the sun shines on.
Of all the clichés that exist about weddings, that’s the one that seems to make you smile the most. Just invoking good weather and bright sunshine feels like a cosmic blessing on the newlyweds and their future. It’s a happy omen for bride and groom or, as in the new book “When the Harvest Comes” by Denne Michele Norris, for groom and groom.
Davis Freeman never thought he could love or be loved like this.
He was wildly, wholeheartedly, mind-and-soul smitten with Everett Caldwell, and life was everything that Davis ever wanted. He was a successful symphony musician in New York. They had an apartment they enjoyed and friends they cherished. Now it was their wedding day, a day Davis had planned with the man he adored, the details almost down to the stitches in their attire. He’d even purchased a gorgeous wedding gown that he’d never risk wearing.
He knew that Everett’s family loved him a lot, but Davis didn’t dare tickle the fates with a white dress on their big day. Everett’s dad, just like Davis’s own father, had considerable reservations about his son marrying another man – although Everett’s father seemed to have come to terms with his son’s bisexuality. Davis’s father, whom Davis called the Reverend, never would. Years ago, father and son had a falling-out that destroyed any chance of peace between Davis and his dad; in fact, the door slammed shut to any reconciliation.
But Davis tried not to think about that. Not on his wedding day. Not, unbeknownst to him, as the Reverend was rushing toward the wedding venue, uninvited but not unrepentant. Not when there was an accident and the Reverend was killed, miles away and during the nuptials.
Davis didn’t know that, of course, as he was marrying the love of his life. Neither did Everett, who had familial problems of his own, including homophobic family members who tried (but failed) to pretend otherwise.
Happy is the groom the sun shines on. But when the storm comes, it can be impossible to remain sunny.
What can be said about “When the Harvest Comes?” It’s a romance with a bit of ghost-pepper-like heat that’s not there for the mere sake of titillation. It’s filled with drama, intrigue, hate, characters you want to just slap, and some in bad need of a hug.
In short, this book is quite stunning.
Author Denne Michele Norris offers a love story that’s everything you want in this genre, including partners you genuinely want to get to know, in situations that are real. This is done by putting readers inside the characters’ minds, letting Davis and Everett themselves explain why they acted as they did, mistakes and all. Don’t be surprised if you have to read the last few pages twice to best enjoy how things end. You won’t be sorry.
If you want a complicated, boy-meets-boy, family-mess kind of book with occasional heat, “When the Harvest Comes” is your book. Truly, this novel shines.
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Books
Chronicling disastrous effects of ‘conversion therapy’
New book uncovers horror, unexpected humor of discredited practice
‘Shame-Sex Attraction: Survivors’ Stories of Conversion Therapy’
By Lucas F. W. Wilson
c.2025, Jessica Kingsley Publishers
$21.95/190 pages
You’re a few months in, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.
You made your New Year’s resolutions with forethought, purpose, and determination but after all this time, you still struggle, ugh. You’ve backslid. You’ve cheated because change is hard. It’s sometimes impossible. And in the new book, “Shame-Sex Attraction” by Lucas F. W. Wilson, it can be exceptionally traumatic.
Progress does not come without problems.
While it’s true that the LGBTQ community has been adversely affected by the current administration, there are still things to be happy about when it comes to civil rights and acceptance. Still, says Wilson, one “particularly slow-moving aspect… has been the fight against what is widely known as conversion therapy.”
Such practices, he says, “have numerous damaging, death-dealing, and no doubt disastrous consequences.” The stories he’s collected in this volume reflect that, but they also mirror confidence and strength in the face of detrimental treatment.
Writer Gregory Elsasser-Chavez was told to breathe in something repellent every time he thought about other men. He says, in the end, he decided not to “pray away the gay.” Instead, he quips, he’d “sniff it away.”
D. Apple became her “own conversation therapist” by exhausting herself with service to others as therapy. Peter Nunn’s father took him on a surprise trip, but the surprise was a conversion facility; Nunn’s father said if it didn’t work, he’d “get rid of” his 15-year-old son. Chaim Levin was forced to humiliate himself as part of his therapy.
Lexie Bean struggled to make a therapist understand that they didn’t want to be a man because they were “both.” Jordan Sullivan writes of the years it takes “to re-integrate and become whole” after conversion therapy. Chris Csabs writes that he “tried everything to find the root of my problem” but “nothing so far had worked.”
Says Syre Klenke of a group conversion session, “My heart shattered over and over as people tried to console and encourage each other…. I wonder if each of them is okay and still with us today.”
Here’s a bit of advice for reading “Shame-Sex Attraction”: dip into the first chapter, maybe the second, then go back and read the foreword and introduction, and resume.
The reason: author Lucas F. W. Wilson’s intro is deep and steep, full of footnotes and statistics, and if you’re not prepared or you didn’t come for the education, it might scare you away. No, the subtitle of this book is likely why you’d pick the book up so because that’s what you really wanted, indulge before backtracking.
You won’t be sorry; the first stories are bracing and they’ll steel you for the rest, for the emotion and the tears, the horror and the unexpected humor.
Be aware that there are triggers all over this book, especially if you’ve been subjected to anything like conversion therapy yourself. Remember, though, that the survivors are just that: survivors, and their strength is what makes this book worthwhile. Even so, though “Shame-Sex Attraction” is an essential read, that doesn’t make it any easier.
The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.
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