An intimate history of LGBTQ+ life over four decades, discovered in a stash of forgotten, handwritten notes.
'A fantastic journey through an overlooked archive bursting with humanity and real life on every page.' DAN SNOW
'Among the most vivid social histories I've read about contemporary queer life in Britain.' OISÍN MCKENNA, author of Evenings and Weekends
'In opening the Switchboard archive, and all the vulnerability and thrill contained within its pages, this book manages to capture something of the essence of what it means to be alive.' AMELIA ABRAHAM, author of Queer Intentions
In a crawlspace at the offices of Switchboard, a queer helpline in operation since 1974, lies dozens of log books kept by volunteers describing the phone calls they had a teenager whose parents had kicked them out of home for dressing as the wrong gender; a lesbian terrified of having her baby taken away from her; a man arrested for chatting up another man in a public toilet; a young person wanting to know how to come out.
These logs were traces of tens of thousands of queer lives, a bridge to a past hidden from people like Tash Walker and Adam Zmith in their youth, captured by people who lent an ear to those in need. Walker and Zmith came of age in the time of Section 28, a law which banned councils and schools 'promoting the teaching of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship'. In recovering these logs, they encountered people grappling with feelings, questions and problems both familiar and different, and set out to learn from - and sometimes speak to - those on both sides of the calls.
Charged with joy, gossip, sensuality, humour and sometimes fear, and with a potent relevancy to the world today, these stories are brought together in The Log Books. Walker and Zmith capture queer lives in stunning detail, embarking on a journey of both collective history and self-discovery and propelling it into the very foreground of our national history.
'One of the most intimate portrayals of LGBTQ+ history as you're going to get . . . moving and informative in equal parts.' HUNGER Magazine
Tash Walker is a poet, writer, audio producer and queer historian whose work focuses predominantly on the experiences of LGBTQI+ people and our British LGBTQI+ history. Two examples of which are the podcasts The Log Books and The Quilt. Their poetry has been broadcast on BBC Radio 4's Short Cuts and most recently they were longlisted for The Aurora Prize for Writing 2025. They are the co-author, with Adam Zmith, of The Log Books: Voices of Queer Britain and the Helpline that Listened (Faber, Jan 2026).
So, y’all may have to bear with my while I try to get my thoughts in order for this one.
Let me start with an brief anecdote. Not long ago I knew a young woman through an extracurricular club. She was born in the early 00’s, to a very wealthy and white family and one day unexpectedly showed up with a girlfriend. They were in love, engaged and married in short order. I remember sitting there and made a comment about a recent news article I had seen talking about it being 25 years since the decriminalisation of homosexuality in a neighbouring state and how shocking it was to remember how recent some of these cultural advancements were… and she stared at me blankly…. because she just had no clue. She had no idea about the history, struggles, triumphs and failures of her queer elders or the history of the human rights movements in the LGBTIQ+ community.
Sitting there, I was dumbstruck by this whirlwind of emotions. Happiness; because what a luxury it is to be able to exist in the privilege of ignorance and not fear for your health or wellbeing. Sadness; because our freedoms today are due to the tireless works of past generations and remain constantly under threat, and anger; because this is important history and the lives of these people should be remembered and just what a wild state of privilege.
I tried to engage her in conversation regarding queer history but gave up when she clearly had no interest in knowing more and would rather just exist in her easy and secure bubble.
All of this is a round about way for me to say how incredibly important I think the content of ‘The Log Books’ is. This book is historical record of the moments that made up queer life from the 70s in the UK through to modern day by way of call records to the queer helpline Switchboard. It delves in to issues of intersectionality, homelessness, judicial and societal persecutions, the growth and development of sexual and gender identity and the little moments that made up the lives of this community of people.
I have thought on this for a while, but I am going to leave this book unrated. I think that the stories and content within this book are near essential reading for people who are interested in queer culture and history. However, I struggled a lot with how the information was presented. I wish that there was more structure or narrative backbone to the book because I would often find myself bouncing around from stories and topics and themes within a singular chapter and struggled to catch the common thread to remain focused. I don’t know if this is as a result of it transitioning from its podcast format but it didn’t work for me as much as I wish it might have, but I don't want that side of my reading experience to hold influence over the value of the actual content that this book holds.
The story provide a very thorough list of content and trigger warnings at the start of this book but it’s worth noting that this book contains some content, themes and language which could be upsetting.
Mostly, finishing this book, I am just pleased to know that an organisation like Switchboard existed as a support for an often vulnerable group of people, and remains a volunteer lead support line still providing this valuable service today.
There's a section towards the end of The Log Books where the authors interrogate the question of whether they are doing History or not, landing on the answer YES. From my own training in History the answer seems obvious to me. YES, YES they are.
Therefore I read this book in the triple position of reader, adjacent-subject and relating to the writers. How much did I relate to the writers? Well, this is a book written by two white LGBTQ+ people, born in the mid-1980s, who grew up in small English towns before going to university/the big city to actually live LGBTQ+ lives, pulling themselves clear from the emotional and legal wreckage wrought by Section 28 and the queerphobic society it epitomised. It's me. This is my life.
Walker and Zmith have taken an absolute treasure trove of a primary source, the log books of Switchboard, the LGBT+ support phone line, and used them as the base for a deep investigation into the history of LGBTQ+ people in Britain from the mid-70s to the present day. They conducted interviews with the Boomer/Gen X people who were Switchboard volunteers or otherwise connected to the themes (LGBTQ+ teachers and their lives under Section 28 particularly stands out) and reflect on how all of this had an impact on LGBTQ+ millennials. They weave their own life and family stories throughout, works of auto-history which I have seen in a couple of other recent LGBTQ+ history books. This practice is something I like to see, bringing more evidence to the historical table and showing behind the curtain that most cishet historians still use to distance themselves from the topics they write about. In fact, having the benefit of authors who understand, care and have experienced this history directly is beneficial, it's more perspectives and stories for the evidence base.
Away from the historical merits of The Log Books, it's also a really accessible and powerful read. This isn't for historians only, this should be read as widely as possible. LGBTQ+ and cishet audiences will get different things from it, but the sheer humanity of the subjects should reach all with an open mind and heart.
I am delighted that I get to interview the authors next month as I have so much I want to hear from them about this important piece of work.
The Log Books is a really interesting and moving look at queer life in Britain before and during the early years of liberation. Using records from the LGBTQ+ Switchboard, it builds a picture of people’s lives through phone calls that are sometimes sad, awkward, hopeful, funny, or just deeply lonely.
What stayed with me most was how ordinary many of the conversations were. A lot of people were simply looking for reassurance or someone to listen to them, and that makes the book feel very human. It captures the isolation many gay people lived with, but also the gradual creation of community and support.
Because it’s made up of excerpts and short entries, it can feel a little fragmented at times, though I think that suits the subject. It feels less like a conventional history book and more like listening in on pieces of real lives.
An interesting and important part of gay history, and also a reminder of how recent a lot of these struggles really are. Recommended.
Cried about ten times on the tube reading this (complimentary)
Heartfelt, compassionate history on the work of Switchboard volunteers, sharing the lives of those who both worked and called on the line as well as the reflections of Adam and Tash as they uncovered this fascinating queer history.
Growing up in England at the end of the 20th century – in an era when Section 28 forbade local authorities from ‘promoting homosexuality’ and before ubiquitous internet access – Tash Walker and Adam Zmith suffered homophobic bullying, repressive school environments, and family conflict. Only decades later did they discover that queer adults had been working throughout those years, and before, to build community, seek pleasure, and resist state violence. The Log Books uncovers this queer heritage through a unique set of records: the call logs of Switchboard, the UK’s LGBTQ+ helpline.
Switchboard was founded in London in 1974, in the heady days of gay liberation. It took calls from across the country. As its records reveal, those calls covered a variety of subjects including requests for support with coming out to family members, information on local gay bars, and even joyful reports of a first sexual experience. The Log Books, which began as a podcast, contextualises Switchboard’s archive with interviews with the volunteers who ran it as well as other witnesses to late 20th-century British queer history. It centres stories of resilience and survival, exploring how queer people have consistently found pleasure, family, community, and pursued political action in the face of state repression, violence, and the devastation of HIV and AIDS. Walker and Zmith’s sources allow them to bring together two quite different points of view on the queer 1970s-2000s: that of those plugged in to London’s LGBTQ+ community (Switchboard’s staff) and that of those at its furthest margins (its callers). It also allows them to bring the particularities of British queer history out from under the shadow of narratives dominated by the US, highlighting, for example, how the availability of cheap housing in the 1970s created conditions for experiments in communal living that were partially foreclosed by the Right to Buy scheme in the 1980s. The records show how British queer life has always included trans people, people of colour, and disabled people – but also how members of these communities have faced discrimination even within queer spaces, including from Switchboard volunteers.
Such a useful and compelling insight into queer history. It was written really accessibly and the authors putting themselves into it so much really elevated it for me and enabled me to connect to it even more. Absolutely recommend this for anyone wanting to understand the sociopolitical context of LGBT+ life in Britain, but particularly younger queers curious about our history.
It is hard to describe the precise feeling you get when a book has touched you and connected in a way that you didn't expect, like 'The Log Books' did for me. 'The Log Books' delves deep into the history of Switchboard (an organisation I was not even aware of until I reached University), giving life to the experiences and stories of many of the volunteers there. Hearing the stories of queer elders, as well as the people they helped, was truly meaningful. Directly transcribing the notes taken in the log book by the volunteers added a really personal touch, and gave an insight into how each volunteer interpreted the needs of those who phoned the helpline. The involvement of Switchboard in important historical queer events in the U.K added more of an insight into the history of our elders and provided some much needed colour to the tapestry of the time period.
The common thread underpinning this collection of history was the desire for connection and community. This felt similarly like a way of reaching out to the reader, connecting to them through their desire for shared connection and to understand a portion of the history of the LGBTQIA+ community in the U.K. This was a wonderfully personal and important piece of history and made me feel all the more connected to the people within our community (both past and present).
Providing an insight into the experiences of both of the authors was lovely and felt equally important in understanding the narrative as a whole. Disclosing their biases in the beginning of the book was also excellent and an important touch to the overall collection. I can't recommend this enough!
An amazing historical and personal account of Switchboard. I enjoyed the combination of archival snippets, interviews with older queers and thoughts/life musings from the authors. I especially enjoyed the two chapters at the end, one from either of the authors. A must read!!
I loved reading this book so much. The themes developed using LGBT+ Switchboard call entries from the 1970s to the 1990s are a snapshot of queer life in the UK. But woven into this story are Tash and Adam’s queer development much later, mirroring the joy and sometimes anguish of their elders. Outstanding
Bij een van een succesvolle podcast afgeleid boek is het misschien logisch dat de makers/schrijvers veel over zichzelf vertellen, maar het grenzeloze egocentrisme van dit duo begon me al snel tegen te staan. Wat nemen die twee een hoop ruimte in. Toegegeven: dat van die podcast wist ik niet toen ik aan het boek begon. Als ik het wel had geweten, was de kans groot geweest dat ik sowieso met een grote boog om The Log Books heen was gelopen. Mijn ervaringen met vergelijkbare spin-offs zijn namelijk niet best (Bad Gays, ik kijk naar jullie). Toch was The Log Books uiteindelijk wel de moeite waard. Het boek draait – behalve om Tash Walker en Adam Zmith – om de logboeken die vrijwilligers van de Britse LHBTI+-hulplijn Switchboard sinds 1975 volschreven. Vaak waren die notities voor intern gebruik heel praktisch van aard: ‘Meneer X belde over zus en zo, belt vermoedelijk morgen weer’ of ‘Kreeg vraag over onderwerp Y, waarom hebben we hier zo weinig informatie over?’ Door die korte aantekeningen middels gesprekken met oud-medewerkers en interviews met queerpersonen (onder wie ook enkele eerdere bellers) uit te werken tot volwaardige verhalen, ontstaat een bonte staalkaart van LHBTI+-levens verspreid over veertig jaar Britse geschiedenis. Dat uitgangspunt is sterk; de uitvoering had alleen een stuk bondiger gemogen. Ook interessant is de rol van Section 28, die als een rode draad door het boek loopt. Dit Britse wetsartikel (1988-2003) verbood lokale overheden en scholen in feite om homoseksualiteit te ‘promoten’. Daardoor ontbrak homoseksualiteit vrijwel volledig in het onderwijs dat Walker en Zmith genoten. Het boek laat overtuigend zien hoe het ontbreken van informatie en zichtbare rolmodellen – waaronder queer docenten die zich niet veilig genoeg voelden om open te zijn – kon leiden tot een diep gevoel van isolement. Ondanks alle uitweidingen en de soms vermoeiende ik-zucht van de auteurs maakt The Log Books uiteindelijk wel degelijk indruk.
Bits of this massively resonated. I could have done with it being a bit less about the author’s journeys. I get what they were trying to do - but my interested was in Switchboard and the Log Books rather than them.
such a timely book about a time that we're slowly descending back into, even though we never truly completely left it
Loved the stories and especially the ones where we could find out what happened afterwards. It was inspiring, heartbreaking and raging all at the same time.
I did feel the structure of the book was at times a bit all over the place and at the beginning I struggled a bit to understand the emphasis or the importance of the log book on the impact of these stories, and I did feel towards the end that I was left wanting to hear more about the people who worked in the log books and where are they now and how they coped with some of these stories
Phenomenal. Important. Poignant. As someone who grew up through the 90s this book covered events that were happening before and during my life, events that happened around me and shaped my world. I recommend anyone interested in the history of the community to pick up this book.
2.5 An important and ambitious research project covering an essential piece of British queer history that entirely debases itself with self indulgent and obnoxious commentary by the authors.
Many people should read this book, but proceed with caution and be prepared to roll your eyes.