Review originally published 5 May 2021 at Falling Letters. I received a free copy for review via Netgalley.

Kyle Lukoff, well known for his picture books about trans kids (including the Stonewall Book Award winning [b: When Aiden Became a Brother|39987021|When Aidan Became A Brother|Kyle Lukoff|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1553384101l/39987021._SX50_.jpg|61915492]), makes the jump to middle grade with Too Bright to See. He nails the landing of that jump with this story about Bug, a kid working through grief, friendship pains, and gender identity.

Trying to picture myself as a teenage girl is like staring at the sun, too bright to see, and it hurts. (35%)

Too Bright to See starts off pretty dreary. Bug’s uncle, who shone brightly in Bug’s life, has just died young. (First line: “It’s strange living in our old house, now that Uncle Roderick is dead.”) Bug’s relationship with his bff seems to be on the rocks once again. Bug’s unhappiness seems to go deeper than these obvious challenges in his life, but even Bug isn’t totally sure why that is.

As the story progresses, we see a kid trying to convince himself he’s a cis girl, a kid who knows what transgender means yet also thinks that it can’t apply to him, a kid whose mixed up jumbled feelings will make you want to give him a big hug. Too Bright to See offers another key narrative to the small canon of middle grade trans coming out stories, a narrative that shows realizing one’s gender identity can be a bumpy, unclear road. For a book coming in under 200 pages, it takes you on an emotional journey: starting as a sad summer story, becoming more heartfelt and heartbreaking as Bug struggles, ending with happy tears and strengthened relationships.

A lot of the trans people telling their stories talked more about a general feeling of not-rightness. Like people looking at you through a frosted glass window, guessing at what they were seeing. But that just sounds normal to me. (73%)

To be clear, Too Bright to See is not primarily a ghost story. The mostly gentle hauntings function as a guide to help Bug understand his feelings. The ghost’s identity isn’t much of a mystery.

Spoiler

Roderick might have been able to help Bug figure things out. He does the best he can as a ghost.

I do recall a couple of scenes with heightened tension – one where Bug’s home alone and one where Moira’s injured. Originally, I was excited to read this book because I thought it would be a spooky read. Turns out its strengths lie elsewhere.

I want to add some quick notes about Moira, Bug’s best friend since they were little. The two clashed when they were young but eventually settled into a comfortable enough friendship. That friendship has become rocky again as Moira pushes forward into femininity and middle school. I appreciated Moira’s depiction as more than ‘bff turned mean girl’ that used to be common in middle grade. Especially after Bug comes out to Moira, she makes some astute observations about why their friendship had been fracturing.

As I finished this book, I wondered how I would refer to Bug when booktalking. Lukoff anticipated this thought. He addresses it in an author’s note immediately after the end of the story. I’ve used he/him throughout this review because my audience here is all adults. Lukoff suggests using they/them quickly when talking to someone who hasn’t read the story yet. He notes, “But I also trust you to describe it to someone who hasn’t read it yet, in whatever way feels right to you, so long as you hold the truth of who Bug is in your heart.”

The Bottom Line