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By Rebecca, April 8, 2009 10:34 am

I was recently reading Scrambler J’s Diane Castle’s stories over at the Whateley Academy site, Crystal Hall. (Note: someone pointed out in the comments that, although Scrambler J originated the character and stories I’m referencing, they’re now being written – including the one I quote below – by Diane Castle. Sorry for the confusion!) I  was struck by the following passage, written from the perspective of a teenage boy who, after manifesting an X-Men-style mutation, has been sent to live with a relative (who, unbeknownst to him, is trans):

What the hell had I gotten myself into?  Greg had gone nuts and had turned into a female impersonator or something.  I may have said that aloud, since the brunette gave me a nasty glare.

“Trev, this is my wife Janet.”

I stared at the brunette, “And are you a guy with a dick too?”

She glared back.  “You are such a prejudiced little fuck!  No, I’m a woman.  I’m what we call a ‘GG’.  That means genetically female.  I just happen to love your sister Gracie.  We’ll see whether I love her enough to put up with a piece of shit like you!”

I tried again.  “Greg…”

“Grace!” they both snapped at me.

“Umm, okay, I don’t understand.  You were my big brother.  You drove a really nice Bentley.  You played basketball for Chilton.”  I took a breath and asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

They looked at each other and did that ‘silent signals’ stuff that Mother and Father sometimes did in front of us kids.  Janet finally said, “Maybe you’d better explain, Gracie.”

Greg – I mean, Gracie – sighed, “Did you ever wonder if I was just a little different from the other guys?”

I admitted, “Well, no.  I just always thought you were great.  As a big brother.  I mean, you were nicer to your little siblings than most of the older brothers I knew…”  I thought for a minute and realized, “Hey!  You never dated anyone!  I mean, Paul went through the girls at Chilton like a buzzsaw, and David’s dating Melinda Hughes-Carling, and I took Ravenna Sainte James to the junior high prom, but you hardly ever dated anyone!”

“Right,” Gracie said.  “I was having a hard time dealing with my own sexuality.  I realized around about kindergarten or first grade that I was in the wrong body.  I really wanted to be one of the kids who got to wear the pretty party dresses and style their hair with their mommies.  Instead, I had to be Greg.  I had to be someone I wasn’t, in a body that felt all wrong.  And it just got worse as I got older.  Proms and weddings were the worst.  I had to wear a stupid tux and a choking necktie.  The girls got to wear the most gorgeous dresses…  It was torture.  It was like working in a bakery and having my mouth sewn shut so I could never taste all the delicacies that were laid out in front of me.”

(Emphasis mine.) I’d like to offer this as an example of why trans fiction is valuable to me – it’s an opportunity to read about the experience of being trans, something that I can relate to and that isn’t found in tons of fiction.

As a reminder, I’m compiling my thoughts about trans fiction at this page on this blog. Feel free to stop by and check out my musings, as well as my reading list, and let me know if there’s something I should take a look at.

-R

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By Rebecca, March 29, 2009 12:48 am

You may have noticed a new addition in the upper right (for those of you not reading via RSS). I keep coming back to trans fiction in posts, so I figured I should just make a (semi) static page linking to my blog posts on the subject, as well as authors/stories/sites I like.  So, here it is! I’ll try to remember to make individual posts when I  update it, but no promises…

-R

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By Rebecca, February 23, 2009 12:39 am

Edit, 3/28/09 – I’m attempting to organize my thoughts on trans fiction here. That page contains links to all of the blog posts I’ve written on the subject, as well as a (growing) collection of links to sites focusing on trans fiction, and particular trans-themed authors/stories I like.

As I’ve mentioned once or twice, I have a tendency to read trans fiction when I’m feeling down. (And, apparently, a meta-tendency to write about said tendency…) I’ve been feeling down lately, and reading more trans fiction, and wanted to share some thoughts. (I’ll write another post to share some links, which I know is what you’re really after…)

I said in a previous post that, “…for me, forced-feminization stories are feeding a desire to have someone else take control of my transition and do it for me.” I still think that’s true, but I’m also realizing that there’s an aspect of sympathizing with characters who feel horribly awkward as women. I’ve wondered why I don’t feel more drawn to fiction involving involuntary female-to-male transformations. Wouldn’t that allow me to feel more sympathy with the protagonist? She would be trapped in the body of a man, and struggling to get back into her rightful body as a woman. (Many forced-feminization stories follow the reverse plot.)

But I don’t really care to read about a character who needs to learn how to pee standing up, or play football, or discover the joys of the male orgasm. I want to read about someone who is struggling to remember to pee sitting down, and how to dress appropriately, and female sexuality. Because all of those things are sure as hell confusing to me.

And I do think it’s unfortunate that so many trans fiction stories involve involuntary transformations, because I do enjoy reading about characters who are actually trans, and not just thrust into a trans-themed universe for the purposes of the plot. (I’m realizing I need to do another ‘trans fiction’ list (and non-fiction, I suppose, to add a nested parentheses) and divide it in that sense – trans characters, and forced-femme characters, but I don’t have the energy to do it tonight.)

So yes, as I said before, I do enjoy fantasizing about having someone step in and take over the transition. That’s definitely part of what I’m getting out of forced-feminization stories. But I hadn’t realized I’m also connecting with characters who don’t really have the first clue about what being a woman means. And I think there’s a hope that, if I read enough pieces where the protagonist figures that out, I might too.

-R