Large Fears’ defines a Nebula

Myles E. Johnson carves space in literary world by placing a queer black boy at the center of the universe

Just two months after the August 2015 release of Large Fears, widely considered the first children’s book to center a queer black boy, Atlanta-based author Myles E. Johnson and illustrator Kendrick Daye had already eclipsed their modest goal of selling 50 copies. They’d self-published the book following a Kickstarter campaign that surpassed its $3,000 goal in just six weeks. After a few high-profile media hits, the book had the attention of the children’s literary world. And on the last day of Atlanta Pride weekend, the attention came to a head. “When I woke up that Sunday morning, I noticed that my phone was going off way more than usual,” Johnson recalls of that morning last October. “I thought maybe I died and I was watching people text their condolences from the other side.”

The source of the surge was much less morbid. The night before, Johnson had become the topic of controversy when award-winning British author Meg Rosoff slammed Large Fears as an example of authors “getting far too literal about what needs to be represented” in kids’ books. “You don’t read Crime and Punishment to find out about Russian criminals. Or Alice in Wonderland to know about rabbits. Good literature expands your mind. It doesn’t have the ‘job’ of being a mirror,” Rosoff wrote in response to a Facebook post by librarian Edith Campbell in which Campbell praised Large Fears for filling a much needed void. It’s a void Johnson is all too familiar with, one which he’s tried to fill throughout his career as a writer.

At 24, Johnson has reached a level of self-acceptance that many spend a lifetime — and a fortune — seeking. He is a queer black man who is soberly aware of the power in his voice and the ease with which he navigates his world. He is also squarely determined to pass that power on to as many queer black boys as possible.

Inspired by author Cheryl Kilodavis, whose celebration of her cross-dressing son in the picture book My Princess Boy made headlines nationwide in 2011, Johnson decided to pour his voice into his own book with Daye, formerly of Atlanta, two years ago. Large Fears is the story of Jeremiah Nebula, a boy who loves pink and robots and his mother, and is trying to find his place in the universe. The book narrates Jeremiah’s colorful journey through space, transcending meaning and convention, all while giving readers the courage needed to face fears large and small, no matter how they’re presented.

If no one told you Large Fears was about a queer black boy, you might never guess it, though you may find yourself wondering why it’s important to note that Jeremiah Nebula loves pink. But after the turn of events on that Sunday morning last October, Johnson was reminded of the importance of letting it be known that boys like him have a story to tell. And their story resonates with more people than some would like to admit.

Ironically, the idea that Large Fears might be considered too “niche” is exactly what pushed Johnson and Daye to self-publish. They knew that, despite the increasing awareness of the gender spectrum and a recent increase in the conversation about children and gender identity, many adults still have a hard time separating gender identity from sexuality. “I describe Jeremiah Nebula as queer because that has more to do with your gender expression,” Johnson says. “I didn’t want to sexualize or politicize a child. It doesn’t have anything to do with what he does in the bedroom; it has to do with how he wants to dress and how he walks and what he likes.”

Almost as soon as the book was written, Johnson knew that Large Fears had to be more than just a book. It had to be a “world event,” as he says. “Black queer people and black queer children are so underserved ... that I felt like it was my obligation to make this as big as it could be.” He supported the Kickstarter push with a “Black Boys Love Pink” viral campaign and merchandise line to help usher Jeremiah Nebula into the world. He also developed a Large Fears Workshop, which is set to take place in New York and California in 2016, following a successful debut in Atlanta last summer.

The book is also helping to start a dialogue between families in countries such as Jamaica and Nigeria, where homosexuality and gender identity remain taboo. Johnson and Daye have sent digital copies of the book to both countries, making sure to alter the cover so not to even hint at the book’s subject matter. Jamaica’s inaugural Pride festival this summer even identified family-friendly functions as “Jeremiah Nebula events.”

The controversy in October also drew the attention of literary agent Bethany Buck who, as fate would have it, helped bring My Princess Boy to a wider audience. Johnson and Daye are currently crafting Jeremiah Nebula’s next cosmic adventure as they seek the right publishing house to help deliver their vision. While the book’s potential for success seems to be undeniable, some still struggle with whether addressing Jeremiah’s love of pink might be too much for a children’s book. Asked if he feels that identifying his protagonist as queer might be limiting, Johnson quickly says no.

“I’m somebody who’s been consuming work that has nothing to do with my identity for a long time. I had to read Chuck Palahniuk and Ray Bradbury. Even books like The Color Purple, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, or The Wizard of Oz, these are universal stories. And Large Fears really is just a universal, cosmic, afro-futuristic tale — that happens to center a black queer kid.”