Taking pride: a bookseller’s view on what it means to sell LGBTQ+ books

Growing up, I often felt I was “the only gay in the village”. There were very few queer people in my social circles, and I didn’t meet another transgender (here used to include people of other non-binary and gender non-conforming identities) person until I moved away to university. My childhood bookstore was my solace, as they are to so many young people, but books featuring LGBTQ+ characters were few and far between. I never once found a book with a transgender character, or saw my experiences on the page.  

Thankfully, queer representation has significantly improved within the publishing industry. I no longer struggle to find books with queer characters, and as a result, I have so many to choose from when recommending to customers seeking advice 

When I returned to my home town two years ago, and began working as a bookseller in my childhood Waterstones branch, I noticed quite a lot of customers seeking recommendations for books with LGBTQ+ themes. Often these were queer people seeking the representation I had been looking for years before. Talking to them in store, often I notice their eyes drifting to my flag, and I watch as it waves to them: “I’m here and I understand you, I am one of you.”  

Pinning my Pride flag to my chest is just as much a habit to me as brushing my teeth or putting on socks in the morning. It just seems right to me. Through my choice to openly express my identity, I have given others like me the opportunity to see a member of their community, a branch towards helping them find the books that they need. It also helps other people. A woman approached once, asking for my book recommendations. ‘“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I saw your pin, and I wondered if... my son is transgender, and I want something to give to his dad to read to help him understand. For us both to understand.” I smiled, because this is why providing visibility matters so much. “Of course. Let’s find something that’ll help you.”  

Thankfully, queer representation has significantly improved within the publishing industry. I no longer struggle to find books with queer characters, and as a result, I have so many to choose from when recommending to customers seeking advice. Countless times I have shared a knowing look with a customer as they compliment my pin, or slide a queer novel across the counter. We fall into effortless conversation about our favourite love stories, the characters we adore and the authors who wrote them. It is our own private club, an unspoken connection that lends itself to more personal bookselling.  

At first, wearing my pin had been a visual reminder to those close to me; respect who I am and what I stand for. In time, it became a way of showing other transgender people they were not as alone as they might feel. It is no small fact that transgender people are increasingly becoming the victims of vicious slander in the media, and that recent years have seen a rise in transphobic hate crimes. But the tide is turning. There are more openly transgender people in the UK than ever before, and every day, more are finding home in their identity.  

We need queer people and allies alike to defend the rights of their transgender siblings, and to create platforms for them to have their voices heard. As booksellers, book readers, recommenders and lovers, we know better than anyone that the right book at the right time can change your life forever. For transgender people, that can mean finally seeing yourself reflected back on page, a beacon of light that you are not alone in what you are experiencing. 

If wearing my pin can help a customer or colleague to feel seen, to find community,
or to find the words they need in these dangerous yet promising times, I’ll never take it off.  

Charlie Todd is a Waterstones bookseller.