"Newcomer Alexander delves into his past to craft a sweet, touching and at-times scary memoir of grief and loss and coming out (mostly to himself)... An excellent, important debut." —Kirkus, starred review
"[...] A beautiful, brave, and honest graphic novel that will appeal to many preteens." —Booklist, starred review
"Clearly and honestly, cartoonist Alexander’s debut graphic memoir explores familial loss, social isolation, and sexual identity... An often-heartbreaking but powerful—and empowering—story of selfdiscovery, akin to Curato’s Flamer and Krosoczka’s Hey, Kiddo."—Horn Book
"Anyone who considered middle school a social minefield, or questioned gender norms will recognize themselves in Damian’s painful journey."—School Library Journal
“It’s hard to describe Damian Alexander’s particular mix of earnest sweetness and searing honesty without experiencing this book for yourself. Other Boys shoots straight for the heart in every single panel, and I’m both grateful and moved.”
—Becky Albertalli, New York Times–bestselling author of Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda
“Damian Alexander traces with poignant accuracy the story of boys who find themselves erased at a certain age. This book should be read by queer kids and parents alike.”
—Garrard Conley, New York Times–bestselling author of Boy Erased
“Honest and incredibly brave, this deeply relatable story will resonate with anyone who’s looking for their place in the world. Other Boys is a book I so desperately needed as a teen.”
—Phil Stamper, bestselling author of The Gravity of Us and As Far As You’ll Take Me
“Sincere and healing, Other Boys effortlessly depicts the complex—and often difficult—journey through youth, grief, and the unique joy of self-discovery. Damian Alexander delivers a thoughtful, essential debut.”
—Julian Winters, award-winning author of Running With Lions
“With Other Boys, Damian Alexander bares his soul for young readers in a way I can only describe as heroic.”
—Adam Sass, author of Surrender Your Sons
10/01/2021
Gr 7 Up—In this graphic memoir, Alexander examines his early adolescent struggles and offers a takedown of gender norms. Damian and his brother, who are white, grew up under the care of adoptive grandparents following their mother's death. Now in seventh grade at a new school, following some intense bullying, Damian has taken a vow of silence to avoid becoming a target. Flashbacks progress through each grade, leading up to the present. Through the years, Damian is told by classmates, family members, and doctors that he should like "boy things" even when he clearly states a preference for princesses, dolls, and domestic play; boys and girls alike ostracize, tease, and attack him for his feminine tastes, quiet nature, and home situation. Pop culture references to music, movies, toys, and video games highlight the different forms of play and escapism available in the late 1990s to mid-2000s. Alexander's story conveys the lasting effects of the trauma that broke up his family as well as the isolation caused by others' superficial judgment. A few friendships and positive encounters stick, as well as a breakthrough with a school-appointed therapist and the personal revelation that Damian is, in fact, gay. Alexander's artwork is widely accessible, depicting both the effortless joy and casual cruelty of children. Bright background colors and large faces broadcast emotional cues, including a fair amount of tears. An afterword addresses the heavier topics of the narrative and lends some context to Damian's perspective. VERDICT Anyone who considered middle school a social minefield, or questioned gender norms will recognize themselves in Damian's painful journey.—Thomas Maluck, Richland Lib., SC
★ 2021-08-11
Damian has come up with a foolproof way to go unnoticed at his new school.
He was bullied at his previous school. As seventh grade starts, he decides that if he doesn’t speak at his new school, no one will notice him or have anything to bully him about. At home with his loving grandmother and his older brother, he speaks; at school, he’s silent even when kids are nice to him. The account of Damian’s seventh grade year is interspersed with flashbacks. He had friends, mostly girls until fourth grade, when his girl friends learned they shouldn’t sit with a boy. He had a few friends that were boys after that, mostly via video games, but he was always hesitant to open up because he felt so different inside and because of his mother’s murder when he was an infant, which has always set him apart. His no-talking plan backfires. He’s placed in remedial classes and forced to see a therapist at school. Opening up is not easy, especially when he begins to think that he might actually like some boys. Newcomer Alexander delves into his past to craft a sweet, touching, and at-times scary memoir of grief and loss and coming out (mostly to himself). He situates his younger self in bright cartoon panels, a White boy in fairly diverse classrooms. LGBTQ+ tweens will see their struggles and rejoice in his progression toward self-acceptance.
An excellent, important debut. (author's note, resources) (Graphic memoir. 10-16)
07/05/2021
Debut graphic novelist Alexander explores his childhood as a sensitive boy starting middle school in this melancholy queer coming-of-age memoir. Following the death of Damian’s mother, he lives with his brother and maternal grandmother in a small apartment, and is the new kid at a school where “it seemed everyone was like the perfect families you see on old TV shows.” To fend off the bullying he’s come to expect, the aspiring artist stops speaking on the first day of seventh grade (“I would give them nothing they could use against me”). As Damian copes with the subsequent isolation, the story intersperses contextualizing moments from his past—damaging gender stereotypes, uncomplimentary commentary on his preference for dolls and dollhouses over action figures. Stylized art, with blocky designs and sometimes-wonky proportions, has a handmade feel. A rapid, platitudinal conclusion undercuts the real pain described throughout, but Damian’s lows (undergoing bullying, mourning his mother’s murder) and highs (getting a cat, realizing his sexual orientation) prompt deep empathy. Ages 10–14. (Sept.)■