Not a Genre: Celebrating Queer Lives in Full ColorBookseller reflections on the importance of representation in literature, PRIDE Month events, and books to celebrate with! □
Not a Genre...Celebrating Queer Lives in Full Color
...as seen on the streets of New Orleans...
My personal reflections on the importance of representation in literature...
When I first allowed myself to imagine becoming a bookseller, I got a little giddy making lists of all the personal favorites I’d fill our shelves with and envisioning the window displays we would curate. Back in our baking days, I was admittedly a little cynical about all the pastry holidays—National Croissant Day, National Doughnut Day—wondering if anyone needed extra encouragement to indulge in something sweet. Yet, as I planned my first year at Imprint, each month's literary theme felt timely and sacred. Celebrations like Black History Month or Mental Health Awareness aren't mere commercial opportunities; they genuinely highlight the rich diversity within literature, countering the long dominance of cis-white-male voices in publishing.
In my initial months curating the shelves at Imprint, conversations with customers and our small staff often revolved around the importance of inclusive representation. One afternoon, a young queer customer asked if we had an LGBTQ section. Briefly, I felt ashamed admitting we didn't--was I failing already as a queer bookseller?
I vividly recalled my early days as a young gay reader coming of age quietly escaping fairly provincial North Kitsap by ferry to the East Side of the Puget Sound, where I could lose myself among the stacks at overtly gay-friendly bookstores like the long past Capitol Hill landmarks Beyond the Closet or Bailey/Coy, anarchist favorite LeftBank Books Collective in Pike Place Market, or my most beloved haunt, Elliot Bay Book Company in its old Pioneer Square location. These old Seattle staples were literal sanctuaries for my young queer self when discovering myself in a book felt lifesaving.
Yet, even in those safe spaces, lingering in the "Gay & Lesbian" section was nerve-wracking, always worried someone might clock my undisclosed queer identity. Always on high alert, glancing over my shoulder, I tried to appear as someone merely passing through or perhaps a reader who had taken a wrong turn in the labyrinth of self-discovery. What if someone noticed these books I gravitated toward? Despite this anxiety, these rare stolen moments alone among those shelves that held Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City or E.M. Forester’s Maurice felt electrifying—seeing gay voices openly sharing their truths beyond handmade zines.
Now, 35 years later, queer representation in publishing is too vast to be contained within one little bookshop, let alone a single section. LGBTQ isn’t a genre; we’re a diverse, complex, occasionally mundane, and wonderfully ordinary facet of the human family. Our stories deserve integration, not relegation to isolated shelves to be fetishized while everyone else’s works are deemed "the norm." My concern as a bookseller following a calendar built around personal identities is that it risks further marginalizing already marginalized folks in a world where CIS, white, straight is still seen as the baseline.
Don’t get me wrong—I adore having June designated as Pride Month, celebrating the full spectrum of our collective queer awesomeness—but rainbow capitalism is real, and when corporations began viewing Pride as a PR campaign, it started losing its radical edge. There’s ample space beneath the rainbow umbrella for everyone, yet as a queer person who remembers a time when representation was scarce, I still want Pride to mean something uniquely special to us. Especially now, when queer and trans people are being scapegoated by a political movement seeking division for profit or erased entirely from the public record, our Pride Month celebrations are even more courageous acts of resistance and joyful rebellion.
That same day I spoke with the young queer customer about Imprint not having a designated LGBTQ section, I also spoke with a couple who were parents to at least one queer child. They complimented us on how seamlessly queer representation was interwoven throughout each section of the store. Indeed, on any given shelf, you’ll find as many queer or BIPOC authors—often more—than those traditionally deemed the baseline norm. Perhaps it’s positive that a young person today doesn’t need to nervously seek a dedicated section for their unfolding sexual orientation or gender identity, scanning anxiously for safety as I once did. Maybe our queerness isn’t as marginalized as some would have us believe. Perhaps our queer stories aren't meant only for queer readers. Who might be reached, whose perspectives might shift, when James Baldwin or John Boyne aren’t confined to the “queer section” but stand proudly shoulder-to-shoulder with Fredrik Backman or Wendell Berry?
And it’s not just the quantity of LGBTQ representation that impresses me—it’s also the evolving quality and content. No longer confined to traumatic coming-out tales, repression narratives, or tragedy-heavy bildungsromans, queer literature now showcases lives that are gorgeous, beautiful, and deeply joyful. While queerness significantly influences how we navigate and view the world, it’s far from being the sole defining characteristic of our stories. Speaking only for myself, being queer adds complexity and richness to my life – one might say an added bonus.
Part of what I deeply appreciate about author TJ Klune (The House in the Cerulean Sea, Under the Whispering Door, The Bones Beneath My Skin) is that his storytelling places queer characters in central, multifaceted roles, experiencing adventures and emotions beyond sexuality or gender identity. Klune affirms, “I'm showing that queer people get to be happy. I'm showing that queer people get happy endings, get to be in love, get to be accepted by their friends, their families, their community, and they're all the better for it.” He emphasizes, “I will always write books with queer characters as the main characters because we deserve to see ourselves in stories,” adding, “Queer characters don’t need to exist solely for suffering or as lessons for straight counterparts. Queer people can be villains, heroes, adventurers, find their true selves, and achieve happy endings, just like everyone else.”
Like many small bookstores in the age of Bezos and B&N, some of those beloved literary havens I mentioned have long since closed, but I'm profoundly grateful for the experiences they provided my younger self. And all this is to say that as both reader and bookseller, it's thrilling to live in a time when queer stories are widely published and celebrated beyond just the queer community. Though exact data on LGBTQ-owned bookstores in the U.S. is elusive, understandable given current political pressures, Oprah Daily listed "65 LGBTQ-Owned Bookstores You Can Be Proud to Support." While Imprint Bookshop isn't yet on that list, we are honored to join a community that recognizes the importance of sharing joyful queer stories widely.
At Imprint Bookshop, though we don't segregate books by identity, we're confident there's a story waiting to be discovered by anyone willing to enter with an open heart and mind.
□ As we move through Pride Month, we invite you to reflect:
When was the first time you truly saw yourself in a book?
Whose stories have shaped your understanding of love, identity, and belonging?
How can we, as readers and neighbors, continue to affirm the full spectrum of human experience?
Let this be more than a month of rainbow displays. Let it be a season of listening deeply, celebrating loudly, and reading widely.
□ Call to Action
We encourage you to explore queer voices beyond the “expected”—from speculative fiction to memoir, from poetry to picture books. Ask us for recommendations. Attend one of our events. Share your own reading journey with someone else.
Stories change lives—and yours just might change someone else’s.
With pride and in solidarity, John Blomgren
Proprietor & Bookseller
Imprint Bookshop
□ Let's celebrate LGBTQ+ awesomeness all month long! □
Upcoming bookshop events...
□ Poetry on the Salish Sea □
Join us at 7pmSaturday, June 28th at the Pope Marine Building (530 Water St. Port Townsend) for a special poetry reading featuring three voices representing three distinct regions of the country. Sophie Cabot Black, published by acclaimed Port Townsend publisher Copper Canyon Press, lives in Connecticut; Elise Paschen, an enrolled member of the Osage Nation, now lives in Chicago; and Kathryn Hunt, founder of the beloved Poetry on the Salish Sea reading series, is a Port Townsend resident.
Tree Swenson, co-founder of Copper Canyon Press, who will be introducing the poets, notes that “Port Townsend has long been a vortex for American poetry, nurturing aspiring writers and celebrating the work of notable international poets. This town has hosted many readings and events at Centrum and numerous other venues for decades, and has also been home to a remarkable number of literary presses for a community of its size."
✨ This is a free event co-sponsored by Poetry on the Salish Sea, Centrum, and The Imprint Bookshop. Author donations gratefully accepted. □ Books available for purchase and signing.
□️□ Just a few releases we're excited about this month....
Forest Euphoria: The Abounding Queerness of Nature by Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian
Mycologist Patricia Ononiwu Kaishian explores the inherent queerness of the natural world, challenging traditional norms and highlighting the fluidity and diversity found in nature. The book intertwines scientific insights with personal narratives, offering a unique perspective on biology and identity.
Marsha: The Joy and Defiance of Marsha P. Johnson by Tourmaline
Through extensive research and interviews, Tourmaline paints a vivid portrait of Johnson's life, shedding light on her activism, her challenges with mental health, and her unwavering commitment to her community. The book also addresses the complexities of Johnson's gender identity and the societal challenges she faced, offering a nuanced understanding of her experiences.
Spent: A Comic Novel by Alison Bechdel
This marks a return to fiction for the acclaimed cartoonist, blending autofiction with satire and introspection. The narrative centers on a fictionalized version of Bechdel, a cartoonist residing in rural Vermont with her wife, Holly, and managing a pygmy goat sanctuary. As she grapples with creative stagnation, societal upheaval, and personal envy, the protagonist contemplates writing a scathing memoir to address her own privilege and the world's crises.
Gaysians by Mike Curato
From the acclaimed author of Flamer, this heartwarming adult debut follows four gay Asians navigating love, identity, and friendship in early 2000s Seattle. It's a celebration of queer chosen family, exploring the complexities of self-discovery and community.
Rachel Carson and the Power of Queer Love by Lida Maxwell
Lida Maxwell delves into the intimate relationship between environmentalist Rachel Carson and Dorothy Freeman, revealing how their bond influenced Carson's seminal work, Silent Spring. The book offers a fresh perspective on environmental advocacy through the lens of queer love.
The Uncertainty Principle by Joshua Davis and Kal Kini-Davis
Seventeen-year-old Mia finds herself stranded in the Caribbean after a public meltdown leads her family to live on a sailboat. As she grapples with isolation and her mental health, Mia meets Alby and Nisha, prompting her to navigate new romantic feelings, family tensions, and personal growth. An epic, breathtaking story of self-discovery, love, and adventure perfect for fans of Nina LaCour and John Green.
And join us Thursday, July 24th from 5:30-7pm for a special presentation of The Uncertainty Principle with authors Joshua Davis and Kai Kin-Davis!
⛵️ Stay tuned for more information and details! ⛵️
LOCAL ORG SPOTLIGHT
Throughout Pride Month the proceeds from our Hardcovers for Hard Times campaign will go to support the vital youth mental health work of The Benji Project here in Port Townsend. $1 from every hardcover book purchased as part of the campaign will be donated directly to The Benji Project, helping to fund their mindfulness and self-compassion programs for local teens. It's a simple way to turn your reading habit into meaningful impact.
The Benji Project is a Port Townsend-based nonprofit dedicated to supporting the mental and emotional well-being of Jefferson County youth. Through school and community-based programs—including summer camps, after-school sessions, and workshops for both teens and parents—they teach mindfulness and self-compassion skills grounded in the evidence-based Mindful Self-Compassion for Teens curriculum.
A poem to end on...
“A Litany for Survival” by Audre Lorde
For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours;
For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.
And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.
