With Flamer (Henry Holt, Sept. 1), Mike Curato has gifted readers with a graphic novel that Kirkus’ review said would be, for many teens, “the defining book of their adolescence.” Inspired by Curato’s own experiences, this deeply personal work introduces Aiden Navarro, a rising ninth grader and Boy Scout trying to navigate a world that is not always kind to effeminate, biracial, Catholic boys who struggle with body image. Aiden’s story will be a lifeline to those who see aspects of themselves in his journey; countless others will find their hearts and minds opened up by the raw pain, vulnerability, and hope radiating from each page. Curato spoke with me from his home in Northampton, Massachusetts; the conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

You’ve had a very successful career writing and illustrating picture books. Why switch gears and write a YA novel?

I’ve always heard the saying “write the book that you wish you had as a child,” and this is that book: the story that I wrote for myself but realized very quickly could help many people who were struggling with the same problems. I didn’t see myself in books or onscreen as a kid, whether that be [as a] queer youth, a person of color, or a mixed person. I also realize that it can be a window for people who can stand to learn something—and, maybe, inspire empathy in people who might not think about how hard it is being the other in this country.

The artistic style in Flamer is a real departure—did you enter the project with a definite plan?

I didn’t have a clear vision; I knew that I wanted it to be kind of rough to match the temperament of the text. So that was a challenge because my other work [is] pretty polished. There was a lot of experimentation because it was new territory. I got inspiration from books like Stitches by David Small [Norton, 2009] and Kampung Boy by Lat [First Second/Roaring Brook, 2006]. The art is made with black pencil and ink washes, and then I used colored inks for all the fiery bits, which are on different layers and assembled in Photoshop.

What has been the response from readers?

At least three old Scout friends have read the book. It made me so nervous; everyone I was in Scouts with was straight, so for them to take the time to read the book and be so supportive meant a lot. One of them said he cried when he read it. Hearing from complete strangers has been amazing too—my favorite was a tweet from a mom who said that her 15-year-old bi daughter demanded [she] purchase three more copies for her to secretly deliver to friends who needed it really badly, and that got me right in the gut. I heard from an author who said, Oh, is this what it’s like for straight people to just open up a book and feel completely seen?

Why the summer camp setting?

The book is in part an homage to camping; I loved Boy Scout camp—it was the highlight of my year. You’re out in the wilderness, which can be magical, and there’s this potential, a really special atmosphere. The flip side is that it’s also isolating, because you are with your peers 24/7 instead of school, where you’re only there for a few hours. It’s an awesome setting for a young person to explore their boundaries and learn things about themselves. Scouting gave me a lot of self-confidence. There’s so much drama packed into just one day: You can be at the height of your social status in the morning and then, come lunch, you’ve been leveled to social pariah and then, come campfire, everything’s fine again. The wheel turns quickly and often. It was also useful as a storytelling arc to use the summer camp structure because it is very regimented; that helped me create the bones of this giant book that was very intimidating coming from the 40-page format.

Writers who incorporate characters with multiple facets to their identities are sometimes critiqued for including “too many issues.”

I’m living proof of intersectionality; I think it’s essential to have characters that have complicated identities that are sometimes at odds with each other. People who have multilayered identities can experience insecurities and self-hatred because their struggle is based on trying to reconcile them. A perfect example is being queer and Catholic: Aiden wants to be devoutly Catholic, he wants to be a good person, but there’s this part of the dogma that he’s trying to adhere to that says you can’t be you and be good. The question becomes, well, how do I not be me?

A lot of the struggles that I dealt with as a child, as a young adult, prepared me to be able to take on bigger problems. I’ve seen people who kind of coasted through their childhood years where they didn’t have a lot of inner conflict—or outer conflict—ill-equipped to deal with bigger things as a grown-up. I think it would be a mistake to say that a character has too many problems: It’s useful for kids and also important for educators to have access to stories that are going to be windows into various students’ lives. One thing that drives me insane is hearing educators say, “Well, we don’t have any kids like that at our school.” You definitely do, and if you’re saying that, your school is an environment [where it] is not safe for them to be out.

The constraints of masculinity play such a critical role in Aiden’s life.

I wasn’t really going into it thinking, “Let’s talk about toxic masculinity”—but I just had to think back about my own experiences [and] I didn’t have to dig very deep in exploring how scary it was to be effeminate—how it still is. On one hand, as a young cis boy, you’re trying to prove that you can be a man [and] for some of the guys, [who] maybe have grown a little more than their peers, there’s the sudden sense of power, and it can go to their heads.

Body positivity is something else you explore.

It’s all connected, right? Toxic masculinity informs boys that they have to be strong, can’t display any weakness, and [must] never display shame. In the gay male community, there’s a huge underaddressed problem with body dysmorphia that starts at an early age, too—I think a lot of us felt disempowered as youth and are maybe overcompensating for it as adults. All these little pieces add up; it’s not just beauty standards, it’s “I’m stronger, I can protect myself now,” but also, “I want to be attractive.” And that ties into racial stuff too. You can’t talk about one isolated ism without bringing in others, which brings me back to intersectionality: You can’t separate these problems because they’re all connected and they all play off each other.

Laura Simeon is a young readers’ editor.