Young Avengers (Cover image via Marvel)
Science fiction deals with a diverse range of worlds and people throughout time and the cosmos. Here are some of the best works of LGBTQIA+ science fiction
It’s strange that science fiction, with all of its fantastical worlds and new ways of living, has had such a difficult time depicting LGBTQIA+ people. If there can be faster than light travel and intelligent aliens, then why can’t two female-identified people get together? Why were some writer and creators so terrified at the prospect of men in a romantic relationship? While we’re at it, why should works of science fiction even accept the staid old gender norms of our own societies?
Thankfully, the science fiction genre is growing more and more progressive. With that movement, authors and other creative folk have taken the deep well of creativity there and used it to explore previously ignored topics like gender and sexuality. Sure, there still aren’t as many “classics” of science fiction or big-name authors that could be diving into the subject. Still, it’s certainly more so than in the earliest days of the genre.
It’s proven to be pretty rich ground. The works here include stories about people who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, agender, and nearly everything in between. Some authors chose to explore worlds much like our own, while others went practically wild with possibility over alien planets and societies. Some tales are set in the near future, while others are so vast and removed from our own that it’s hard to remember that the protagonists are (mostly) human, too.
A couple of notes
A few of the slides contain spoilers. Some may also discuss mature content, though none of it gets graphic.
About terminology: There are many ways to refer to the galaxy of non-heterosexual orientations. I’ve chosen to use “LGBTQIA+” as a standard abbreviation and “queer” as a more general term. This is not meant to exclude different orientations and gender identities. Neither is it intended to gloss over the long, complicated history of words like “queer”.
With all of that in mind, read on for some of the best works of LGBTQIA+ science fiction available right now.
Ethan of Athos (Cover image via Baen Books)
20. Ethan of Athos
Unlike some other works of science fiction, the LGBTQIA+ content of Ethan of Athos is not only prominent but vital to the novel’s story. That isn’t to say that it’s a work perfectly in tune with 21st-century sensibilities, but it’s still remarkable for a book published in 1986.
It all begins with Dr. Ethan Urquhart, Chief of Biology on one of his planet’s reproduction centers. Athos, the planet in question, is an all-male colony that has managed to set itself apart from much of the interstellar community. Athos was founded centuries ago, thanks to some seriously misogynistic ideas about women. Over time, the long-absent women have become mythologized demons who cause madness in men. All information that comes onto Athos from outside is scrubbed of all references to women.
All partnerships on Athos, romantic or otherwise, are necessarily homosexual. It’s not made into an upfront issue but is rather quietly accepted as the norm. The men of Athos must also take up what 21st-century human cultures deem “feminine” jobs, such as childcare.
The people of Athos reproduce through “uterine replicator technology” based on ovarian tissue cultures. That works well enough until the latest shipment turns out to be useless cell cultures. Ethan is sent out to get to the bottom of the disastrous shipment. Along the way, he is forced to confront his misogynistic views when he meets actual women.
Ethan of Athos is an interesting take on the sci-fi trope of a single-gender world. Plus, between all of the gender politics, it’s also a smart, witty take on a spy novel. Author Lois McMaster Bujold would continue with these themes in the rest of her Vorkosigan Saga series.
Salt First Girl (Cover image via DunDurn Press)
19. Salt Fish Girl
Larissa Lai’s novel, Salt Fish Girl, is a wide-ranging, meditative novel that combines elements of science fiction, magic realism, mythology, and dreaming to create a rich work. It’s also full of time shifts, making for a dizzying read.
For part of its tale, Salt Fish Girl follows a 19th-century Chinese shapeshifter named Nu Wa. She begins as a kind of snake woman but then gains a magical pearl that will give her immortality. Nu Wa also gets the ability to walk, though not without constant pain.
Meanwhile, Miranda lives on the west coast of Canada in 2044, in a walled city named Serendipity. Miranda is plagued by physical issues, including a body odor that reeks of durian (which her mother ate on the day that Miranda was conceived).
Miranda also sometimes sheds what look like scales into her bath. Meanwhile, she dreams of a life as Nu Wa. Is she truly remembering a past life? Could Miranda instead be communicating with Nu Wa somehow? Or is it possible that she’s the victim of a strange and insidious dreaming disease affecting humans?
Miranda must also navigate the new strangeness of her time. Her lover, Evie, is actually a clone. This means that Evie is technically not human, thanks to gene splicing with other species and subsequent legalities that disqualify her from full humanity (in particular, Evie is .03% freshwater carp). Corporations have taken advantage of this, creating a workforce of enslaved clones that also happen to be almost entirely women of color.
The Carhullan Army (Cover image via Faber and Faber)
18. The Carhullan Army
Maybe you would prefer your science fiction to be a little more down-to-earth, to deal more in “regular” humans and not the kind of genetics-defying, spacefaring sort. There’s no shame in that whatsoever. In fact, being bound to the Earth can present some interesting quandaries and, as it turns out, fascinating questions about gender and LGBTQIA+ people at the same time.
Sarah Hall’s The Carhullan Army is set at some undefined point in the future, where disaster has struck Britain. Stocks have plummeted, terrorists threaten citizens, epidemic disease ravages many and the rivers have overflowed their banks. These crises, along with a series of unending conflicts overseas, have paved the way for an authoritarian government to take over.
The people of this land are in dire straits. They live in grim housing, while women are forced to take long-term birth control measures. At least the Valium-like drugs supplied by the government are still plentiful.
The unnamed protagonist works in a factory, manufacturing useless objects. She eventually decides to run away to a fabled community in the mountains, Carhullan. It’s said to be populated by a group of strong-willed women who have resisted the government.
When the narrator finally reaches Carhullan, however, she’s in for a bleak surprise. The women there are distrustful, even dangerous, and first, greet her by locking her in a tank known as the “Dog Box”. She’s eventually released, however, and falls in love with another woman before joining the community’s commando team.
The Carhullan Army is hardly a cheerful novel. Neither does it present its queer characters in a glowing, saintly light. But, to have a deep and broad cast of queer science fiction characters means that there must be deeply flawed ones, too.
Young Avengers (Cover image via Marvel)
17. Young Avengers
Marvel, like many other major comics company, has had trouble representing queer characters in the past. They’ve either skated around the issue or ignored it entirely, leaving generations of LGBTQIA+ comics readers without representation on the page. When it was addressed, queerness was all too often treated as something wracked with shame or the subject of A Very Special Issue.
While there’s arguably more progress to be made, modern comics are doing much better than their predecessors in presenting a nuanced cast of LGBTQIA+ characters. Even superhero comics, oftentimes a conservative bastion despite its mind-bending, spacefaring, tights-wearing ways, has stepped up to the plate (thanks to the right illustrators and writers).
For one especially good example, look to the modern miniseries run of Young Avengers. The fifteen-issue series, written by Kieron Gillen and drawn by a slate or artists, featured what may be one of the most recognizable, majority-queer superhero teams at Marvel.
First of all, there are Wiccan and Hulkling, two team members that are not only gay but in a developing relationship together. Prodigy comes out as bisexual, while the kind-of reincarnated trickster god Loki is open to practically anything. It’s worth remembering that Loki has previously changed between gendered bodies and shapeshifted to his heart’s content, and without much (if any) hand-wringing on his part.
Meanwhile, Marvel Boy, as a Kree alien, is more or less removed from human concerns about gender and relationships. “The Kree are efficient like that,” he concludes during one conversation.
And then there’s America Chavez, a.k.a. “Miss America”. She never comes out with a glitter sign and fireworks, but neither does she hide. Plus, she was raised by two mothers on the Utopian Parallel, a separate reality that sounds a bit like the magical queer commune of our dreams.
2312 (Cover image via Orbit)
16. 2312
2312 all begins, unsurprisingly enough, in the year 2312. Swan Er Hong is an artist who is struck by the unexpected death of Alex, her step-grandmother. Alex was an important figure among the citizens of Terminator, a city on Mercury. Terminator is built on gigantic tracks in order to stay on the planet’s cooler night side that faces away from the blazing sun.
Swan, still dealing with Alex’s death, travels throughout the solar system to visit with friends and learn more about Alex’s life. While she’s on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons, an artificially-controlled meteorite damages Terminator’s tracks and dooms the city to cook in the sun. Swan soon gets caught up in the mysterious conspiracy that seems to surround her grandmother’s death and the terrorist attack that destroys her former home.
The people who live throughout the solar system have no time to get caught up in gender confusion. To that end, an individual could choose from a bevy of recognized categories, from lesbian, gay, bisexual, neuter, queer, androgynous, berdache, hijra, and many more. In addition, numerous people are biologically intersex. Gender is also fluid, meaning that people are free to adjust and change their identities as they see fit.
Unlike other works of fiction on this list, the LGBTQIA+ side of things in 2312 isn’t exactly front-and-center. But, neither is it quietly shoved to the side or relegated to a few awkward conversations scattered throughout the novel. Instead, the wonderful spectrum of genders, sexualities, and more is a part of everyday life.
15. Credence
While LGBTQIA+ content has been around for decades in novels and even comics, its presence in science fiction film has been rare. It’s strange, given that sci-fi lends itself to ways of life that could seem vast and new to its audience. People living on faraway planets? Sure. The presence of intelligent alien life? Absolutely! But, gay people in space? Whoa, hold on there, friend.
Thankfully, this is a perception that’s evolving on screen. For one of the most recent and most upfront takes on queer people in a science fiction world, look to 2015’s Credence.
The film starts in a dire place. The Earth is ravaged by increasingly severe storms, which ultimately spell doom for the human race. Thankfully, scientists have discovered planets which can support human life and ensure the continuation of the human species.
Alas, without complications, this would be a very short movie. Even at a half-hour runtime, Credence requires more conflict to move forward with a plot. The twist is that limited rocket space and fuel means that only children will be able to make the journey. Even then, class concerns invade the issue, making it so that the children of the rich dominate the roster.
Somehow, two fathers are able to secure space for their young daughter. John (Alex Topham) and Scott (Alex Hammond) would do anything — seriously, anything — for their daughter, Ellie (Tia Kenny). That’s true in any situation, even if it means that these two loving fathers have to send their daughter into a wild and unknown future without them by her side. It’s heartbreaking, to be sure, be also a portrait of a loving family in the face of disaster and two devoted LGBTQIA+ parents.
Santa Olivia (Cover image via Grand Central Publishing)
14. Santa Olivia
People may know author Jacqueline Carey best for her sensual Kushiel’s Dart series. But, she’s a well-established author with quite a few novels and series to her name. Santa Olivia is a particularly fun and fascinating example of Carey’s oeuvre.
Santa Olivia mashes up a variety of genres and conventions, from science fiction to fantasy, to post-apocalyptic dystopias, to werewolf stories. Plus, it’s got some darn good LGBTQIA+ protagonists.
Santa Olivia is a border town that, officially speaking, does not exist. It’s deemed “Outpost No. 12”. After an epidemic hits the land, tensions between the United States and Mexico escalate to a violent degree. After the dust settles, a “barrier zone” is established between the nations. People living in this zone are faced with a choice: leave their homes, or stay and renounce their citizenship. Given the dire financial straits of some residents, quite a few decide to stay.
Protagonist Loup Garron is one of those residents. She’s been genetically modified for superhuman strength and an inability to feel fear. She’s also a boxer, dealer of vigilante justice and all-around boss. That’s a pretty handy set of skills, given that life in her hometown is fairly rough and tumble. Her success as a mysterious boxer may also be her ticket out of town (the local general is fairly obsessed with boxing) and a way for Loup to track down her long-gone father.
Amongst all the violence and superhuman drama of her small town, Loup also manages to entangle herself in some romance with another woman. It’s all part of her life as an astonishing, brave, and somewhat wild young adult in a hostile land.
Dhalgren (Cover image via Vintage)
13. Dhalgren
It’s easy to get lost in Samuel R. Delany’s massive classic of science fiction, Dhalgren. It’s a sprawling, mind-bending novel that deals with amnesia, chaos, a devastated city, and catastrophe in general. Delineating someone’s gender or sex seems almost pointless in such a context.
At least, that’s how it appears from the protagonist’s perspective. Dhalgren follows a more-or-less nameless central character, commonly referred to as “the Kid” or “Kidd”. He begins the novel in a forest just outside the crumbling city of Bellona, where he and a woman have a sexual encounter. He tells her that he can’t remember his name. In response, she leads him to a cave full of chains and mirrors and prisms, then leaves and promptly turns into a tree. The Kid is understandably alarmed and flees towards the city.
There, he encounters mounting strangeness within. The Kid finds a notebook that contains word-for-word passages from the text of Dhalgren itself. He also interacts with the Richards family, whose father leaves for work every day (despite there being no known office that remains active). Meanwhile, his wife, Mary, almost convinces everyone that all is well, despite their lives in a strangely empty apartment building.
Be aware: this is not exactly a kid-friendly novel. Delany’s characters (and especially The Kid) engage in a variety of sexual acts, all graphically described. The Kid remains unconcerned about his given partner’s gender or biology.
Delany himself has identified as gay since he was a teenager. He was married to Marilyn Hacker in the 1960s, though maintained his sexuality throughout their relationship. They divorced in 1980 (after which Marilyn began to identify as a lesbian), and Delany eventually entered into a long-term relationship with another man.
BEVERLY HILLS, CA – JULY 13: Actor John Barrowman speaks for the television show ‘Torchwood’ during the BBC portion of the Television Critics Association Press Tour at the Beverly Hilton Hotel on July 13, 2007 in Beverly Hills, California. (Photo by Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images)
12. Torchwood
Television, for all that it may deal with lower budgets and smaller audiences, has a lot going for it. Series can take the long view on their stories and characters and, with the right creative people involved, can create beautifully rich and deep experiences. Under the right circumstances, TV creators may also be somewhat more free to take risks and push for more progressive tales.
At least, that was the case with Torchwood, a BBC science fiction series that ran from 2006 to 2011. It follows a small group of alien hunters based out of the titular Torchwood Institute. They’re led by Captain Jack Harkness (John Barrowman), who first appeared on a 2005 episode of the rebooted Doctor Who.
Harkness is a probably immortal, mostly reformed con man from the future. He is also unconcerned with heterosexuality — Harkness is oftentimes described as one of the most prominent bisexual characters on television. He might also become a giant head in a tank, known as the “Face of Boe”, some many millennia into the future, but that’s a story for another day.
But Harkness isn’t the only character on Torchwood who doesn’t feel angst about his feelings or dalliances with people and aliens of all kinds. According to series creator Russell T. Davies, he originally intended for the whole program to be “bisexual”:
"I want to knock down the barriers so we can’t define which of the characters is gay. We need to start mixing things up, rather than thinking, ‘This is a gay character and he’ll only ever go off with men.’"
The Female Man (Cover image via Beacon Press)
11. The Female Man
Joanna Russ, author of The Female Man and many more novels, short stories, and nonfiction books besides, was truly a pioneer in her field. She was one of the earliest science fiction authors to challenge common sci-fi tropes about gender, sexuality, and women in general.
Of course, that may also mean that The Female Man, published in 1970, could seem odd to its modern-day readers. It follows four different women living in parallel worlds, who are able to occasionally cross over into one another’s realities.
The novel begins when Janet arrives in the world of Jeannine Dadier. Janet hails from a place called “Whileaway”, where all men were killed by a plague centuries ago and women reproduce through parthenogenesis. Janet finds Jeannine and takes her to Joanna’s world.
Joanna, who lives in a place like 1970s Earth, is just beginning to get involved with feminism. Joanna shows Janet and Jeannine around, where Janet promptly knocks down a man for making a move on her. It’s hardly a good time.
At a later point, the trio of Janet, Jeannine, and Joanna are transported to a fourth world, that of Jael. It turns out that Jael, an ethnologist, has been studying all of them. She’s finally brought them all together in her world, where men and women are literally at war with each other. Jael reveals that she wants to create female-led bases in the other women’s worlds, without the knowledge of hostile male factions. Jeannine and Joanna enthusiastically agree while the pacifist Janet hesitates.
While the four negotiate this plan, it’s clear that they have all grown and changed their ideas of womanhood and self-identity. Janet, in particular, is a clear LGBTQIA+ character without shame or hesitation.
Bone Dance (Cover image via Orb Books)
10. Bone Dance
For all that everyone has talked about sexualities in science fiction, gender is a historically unexplored topic. That is to say, characters are more often set to identify as either female or male. But, that doesn’t mean science fiction is devoid of agender, genderqueer, androgynous, or otherwise non-binary gendered characters.
Take 1991’s Bone Dance, for example. Yes, this novel by Emma Bull is sometimes categorized as “urban fantasy”, but there’s plenty of technology and bio engineering to more than qualify the book for inclusion on this list.
It all centers on Sparrow, the book’s agender protagonist. Sparrow is a kind of trader (or, to the less sympathetic people they deal with, more of a hustler), dealing in pre-nuke artifacts from “old Earth”. They first awaken with no memory of the preceding three days and go on a kind of odyssey to figure out just what happened.
Along the way, Sparrow deals with both the technology of a war-ravaged, dystopian planet and some mysterious magical and religious practices in their city. A friend gives them a strange Tarot reading, followed by an encounter with a dead man who has apparently been inhabited by a loa (a Voodoo spirit).
Sparrow also crosses paths with the mysterious “horsemen”, who can seemingly jump from body to body while maintaining their own consciousness. Do they have anything to do with the war that has ravaged the Americas for decades?
Halfway through the book, it’s also revealed that Sparrow is a bio-engineered being. They are only halfway down their path to becoming “fully” human, a journey that takes up a fair amount of the second portion of the novel. In all, it’s a journey that is both energetic and delightfully deep.
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Cover image via Harper)
9. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet
Is all the talk of dystopias and planet-wide wars getting you down? That’s fair enough. Science fiction is well known for its grand, operatic tone, which can sometimes mean that its human readers feel a little overwhelmed. What about the small, everyday interactions in science fiction that reveal the life and emotions of all characters, regardless of gender or inclination?
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet offers some of that lightheartedness without sacrificing character development, plot, or good LGBTQIA+ representation. Author Becky Chambers also clearly has fun playing with tropes that have alternately helped and plagued the science fiction genre.
It all begins with Rosemary Harper, a young woman with a mysterious past and the desire to run away from it all. She joins the crew of the Wayfarer, a tunneling ship that builds wormholes from one planet to another. Said crew is diverse, reflecting Chambers’ desire to create a truly unique and varied universe full of different cultures, people, and species.
And, no, we’re not talking about old Star Trek-style aliens who look like humans with bumpy foreheads. There are some truly alien extraterrestrials, like Sissix, a female reptilian pilot. Sissix eventually enters into a romantic relationship with a human woman, which is perhaps most remarkable for how normal it feels.
That romance is neither a “Very Special Episode”-style plot, nor is it ignored to the point of being inconsequential. In this world, there is room for all kinds of romantic relationships and genders. It’s beautifully refreshing and welcome in this joyous book.
During the course of the novel, the Wayfarer gets a lucrative contract that could be more dangerous than initially described. Will the introspective, mysterious Rosemary and the rest of the Wayfarer’s crew stay safe on their journey?
Ammonite (Cover image via Del Rey)
8. Ammonite
In Nicola Griffith’s Ammonite, a deadly disease has cleared the way for a planet devoid of men. See, long ago, a group of settlers made their homes on Grenchstom’s Planet (abbreviated as “GP”, which leads to the common nickname of “Jeep”). Soon enough a virus (also called “Jeep”) sweeps through the group, killing all of the men and many of the women.
The planet is quarantined and contact with the survivors is lost for many years. Observers can only tell that Jeep gives rise to a “native” population that is entirely female, almost certainly descended from the original settlers.
Much later, the Settlement and Education Councils (SEC) sends anthropologist Marghe Taishan to Jeep. She’s sent to study the native cultures that have grown during Jeep’s long quarantine. Taishan is also tasked with testing a vaccine for the Jeep virus. Along the way, she’s kidnapped, rescued, and taken into the native culture of a particular group.
Unlike our own planet, queerness is, well, not at all queer on Jeep. After all, if there is only one biological sex available on a planet, it’s difficult to make same-sex relationships into some sort of terrifying “other”.
How a planet devoid of anyone with an XY chromosome is able to reproduce forms no small mystery of the novel, either. Along with her virus research, Marghe must also learn how, exactly, the inhabitants of Jeep have been able to reproduce for generations.
Unlike other books in this list, the entire cast of Ammonite is female. While interacting with the women that populate Jeep, Marghe learns just how deeply the virus has changed them, and how she must change in return.
Adaptation (Cover image via Little, Brown)
7. Adaptation
This 2012 novel by Malinda Lo and its 2013 sequel, Inheritance, is something of a departure for its author. Lo is well known for her fantasy, not to mention her well-established track record of writing LGBTQIA+ content. She has been a faculty member for the Lambda Literary Foundation and regularly publishes diversity reports in Publisher’s Weekly and The New York Times.
Adaptation, however, is one of Lo’s first novel-length ventures into science fiction. It focuses on Reese, a high school student, who is first seen trying to home after a debate competition. She’s accompanied by her debate partner (and crush) David Li. Though the pair had originally planned to take a flight home, all planes are grounded when birds mysteriously begin to fly in to jet engines everywhere.
They then rent a car, but Reese crashes it while they’re driving on Nevada’s Extraterrestrial Highway. Both Reese and David survive uninjured, but they wake up in a secure government facility a month later. Neither of them remembers what’s happened since the accident.
As you may well have guessed, Adaptation takes quite a few cues from The X-Files (which Lo studied while she was a graduate student at Stanford University). With its focus on mysterious conspiracies, alien beings, and burgeoning queer romance for Reese, the book moves at a fast pace. It also ends on a serious cliffhanger, but thankfully Lo has already published the book’s sequel, Inheritance.
Far from being a single note in Reese’s character arc, her queerness is front and center. It plays a pivotal role in her conception of herself and how she interacts with others around her. Of course, that’s also in addition to other trends in her life, including the existence of extraterrestrials.
Shadow Man (Cover image via Tor Books)
6. Shadow Man
One of the greatest debates in science fiction is just how much real-world science creators need to include in their work. Or perhaps it’s not so much a debate as a kind of line, a way to denote preference and difference. There are the proponents of “hard” science fiction, which plays close to the rules of physics, astronomy, geology, and other sciences that are already known to us. Think Kim Stanley Robinson, whose Red Mars novel is the height of the convention.
Then, there’s so-called “soft” science fiction. Here, writers are freer to play with the genre beyond the bounds of science. That means that problems such as how to travel faster than light aren’t really problems at all. At the very least, they don’t produce the kind of barriers and twists that you might expect.
In the world of the Melissa Scott’s 1995 novel Shadow Man, faster than light travel has begun to mess with human gender and biological sex. In order to survive these trips, humans must take a special supplement.
The gender of Hara
However, this same drug has also greatly increased the number of intersex births. Soon enough this leads to a wide variety of body types and notions of gender. Among the Concord worlds, there are five recognized sexes: fem, herm, man, mem and woman.
One world, Hara, has been cut off for many generations. Though Hara has since been reunited with the other planets in the Concord system, it still retains a two-gender structure. Moreover, gender is marked more by expression and performance of gender roles, rather than biological traits. On Hara, people can legally switch their gender, but only from male to female. This is exceedingly strange to off-worlders, who can’t quite grasp the concept.
This is only the setup for the story of Shadow Man, which follows members of different societies as they navigate Hara’s re-entry into the Concord system. It’s a fascinating take that makes gender and sexuality front and center in the story.
Ancillary (Cover image via Orbit)
5. Ancillary Justice
Why wouldn’t alien-like societies have different conceptions of gender than our own? After all, it could easily be strange to divide your society up into an average of two genders. Why even pick one? The question can get even more diverse and beautifully complicated when you introduce artificial intelligence. Without the confusing mess that may or may not be gender and biological determinism, the whole game changes.
Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice won the Nebula Award for best science fiction or fantasy novel, one of the top prizes in the genre. Leckie even beat out previous big-name winners like Nicola Griffith and Neil Gaiman.
Ancillary Justice is narrated by Breq, an artificial intelligence who moves throughout the massive and complex Radsch empire. The Radchaai people are so indifferent to the concept of gender that it simply doesn’t exist in their society. Regardless of biological differences, people more or less dress the same, speak the same, and interact with each in a similar manner.
Their language also fails to distinguish amongst genders. In the text, the Radsch language’s pronouns are simply translated to “she” and “her” in all cases. Anyone, much less an AI like Breq, would have a difficult time determining who is “male”, “female”, or anything else.
Breq’s AI is used to control an “ancillary” human body. The plot itself centers around the long-lost starship, the Justice of Toren. Breq and an officer, Seivarden, also meet 19 years later on an ice planet. The narrative jumps back and forth between the more recent events on the ice planet and beyond, and to the Justice just before its destruction.
Ancillary Justice isn’t exactly an LGBTQIA+ novel outright, but its thoughtful questioning of gender and society more than earns the book a spot on this list.
4. O Human Star
Speaking of artificial intelligence, what if a robot created by a human inventor turned out to have some very different ideas about its assigned gender? In many cases, that old argument about biological determinism influencing gender, therefore, doesn’t apply. If a being is created through entirely synthetic means, then how exactly would they navigate gender while living with humans?
That’s the central question of O Human Star, a long-running webcomic by artist and writer Blue Delliquanti. Of course, it’s not the only question. Delliquanti’s work also heavily features LGBTQIA+ characters in a future that remains both familiar and odd to today’s readers.
The story begins with the sudden death of Alastair Sterling. He’s the brilliant inventor who first introduced advanced robotics into human society. Sixteen years after his death, he’s resurrected into a robot body, complete with copied-over memories and emotions. In this new world, advanced robots and humans live side by side.
Al decides to track down Brendan Pinsky, who was both his business and romantic partner. Brendan has become a capable inventor in his own right. He’s even created the first robot meant to replicate a human being. No, it’s not the current Alastair; rather, it’s Sulla Pinsky.
See, Sulla was created to be a copy of Alastair, down to the male gender. However, as Sulla grew and gained more experiences, she wished to present herself as female. She’s also brilliant and brave and ready to experience as much life as possible.
The way this central trio negotiates their familial relationships forms the heart of this series. Meanwhile, several secondary characters are also queer or otherwise part of the LGBTQIA+ community. It’s an extraordinarily bright and positive portrayal of LGBTQIA+ people in science fiction.
Big Big Sky (Cover image via Red Deer Press)
3. Big Big Sky
Big Big Sky, the 2008 novel by Kirstyn Dunnion, is decidedly queer. It follows Rustle, a young scout living in a post-apocalyptic world. She’s part of a five-person warrior group, called a “Pod”, composed entirely of women. This tight-knit company trains, eats, sleeps, and even occasionally forms romantic relationships together.
At first, Rustle and her Pod mates believe that all of the men and adults have disappeared from the planet. Thankfully, there are the ScanMan aliens who take care of them. Well, except — as is kind of clearly telegraphed from the earliest pages of Big Big Sky — the ScanMans are bad.
How bad? Well, when they first arrived on Earth, the ScanMans exterminated all males and human adults. The remaining female children were either exterminated, experimented upon, or assigned to Pod groups. Of course, the survivors’ memories have all been replaced with kinder recollections. Anyone who becomes too wily or simply stands out too much is sent to the “Living Lab”, never to return.
Rustle’s partner, Loo, is concerned when she sees Rustle beginning to exhibit those strange alterations. That’s a particularly big problem, seeing as Rustle and Loo are “fused”, or intensely devoted to one another.
This all sets off a series of events that reveal some Pod mates as betrayers, some as pawns, and some as new, changed people entirely. The survivors are also forced to escape into the wilderness, where they encounter humans not under the aliens’ control. This also includes their first encounters with men, who the protagonists call “strange beasts”. It’s a beautifully weird and unabashedly queer novel.
The Stars Change (Cover image via Circlet Press)
2. The Stars Change
Oftentimes, the big bugaboo in LGBTQIA+ content of any genre is the matter of sex. It is true that a large number of adult humans enjoy it and engage in the act with happy, willing partners. But, if you tip the scales just a little too much, it can also become a fetishistic, objectifying matter. Then, you might even get someone clutching their pearls over a perceived connection between being queer and being, well, excessively naughty. Take the recent commotion over Twitter’s temporary blocking of LGBTQIA+ search terms (which it has since fixed).
Still, in the right hands, there should be room for creative works that focus on queer sexuality. If any genre can do that will still remaining joyous and open-minded, can’t it be science fiction?
Depending on the reader, that could very well be the case in The Stars Change, by Mary Anne Mohanraj. On a small planet named Pyroxina Major, a diverse array of humans, aliens, and modified people gather at the University of All Worlds.
However, for all that this University sounds like a utopian college campus somewhere, the outside world remains a threat. With the news that interstellar war may be targeting, the few that learn of this must decide what to do. Will they run? Hide? Try to fight, somehow? Their relationships with everyone in their community, from friends to family, to lovers, further complicates the situation.
Beyond the overt sexiness, the linked stories in The Stars Change also explore the more emotional side of relationships, from their beginnings to their middles, and their ends. It’s both intellectual and deeply moving at once.
The Left Hand of Darkness (Cover image via Ace Books)
1. The Left Hand of Darkness
It’s hard to understate just how big The Left Hand of Darkness is in terms of both the science fiction genre and LGBTQIA+ representation in sci-fi.But, it’s not LGBTQIA+ representation in the same way that you might think. Under the care of legendary writer Ursula K. LeGuin, it’s a broader commentary on gender, sexuality, and what it means to be truly alien.
Generally, the novel follows Genly Ai, a standard-issue (well, to us) human who has been sent to the planet of Gethen. He’s an envoy from the Ekumen, a cooperative group of planets that wants Gethen to be its next member. But, it’s not as simple as walking up to a leader and giving them a 20-minute Powerpoint presentation.
What’s Genly’s problem? It has to do with the way Gethenian biology has affected their varied cultures. Also, as a quick side note: LeGuin deserves to be lauded for recognizing that an entire planet can contain different cultures, governments, and religious movements. All too often, science fiction writers get lazy and make the people of a planet a huge cultural monolith.
Gethenian gender
Anyway, Gethenians are “ambisexual”. This means that they have no fixed sex. For most of their biological cycle, in a period of time called somer, they are androgynous and generally uninterested in sexual contact. But during the brief kemmer period, they become either biologically female or male. Then, they can find a mate and reproduce and even bear children.
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What would a largely genderless society look like? In LeGuin’s book, the people of Gethen are generally not inclined to war (though that changes as the story progresses). Some violent crimes, are practically unknown.
That doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of political and personal intrigue in The Left Hand of Darkness, however. While he’s dealing with his own cultural confusion, the human Genly Ai will have to deal with plenty of peril, too.
With that, we’ve wrapped up 20 of the best LGBTQIA+ works of science fiction. Happy reading!