1st paragraph is my own gender troubles reflected in the book. 2cd is broader literary discussion for those interested!
Basically, I got hooked and read the novels in two days...but I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. I have been on-and-off HRT for about two years, and really identified with Ames/Amy's struggle with living trans. In particular, his experience with disassociation and retreating into masculinity as a distancing mechanism really resonated with me. I gained a lot of insight into my own life and feelings through reading. At the same time, I couldn't see myself doing gender like anyone in the book. I don't know what part of that is my internalized transphobia and fear of being more obviously trans in a hostile world, and what part of that is my not fully fitting into the binary trans role.
Another big piece of sand stuck in my craw with the novel is that I perceived a lot of it as a novelized 'trans 101' and fictionalized ethnography of the main themes in trans life for the non-trans audience. Of course, given how small the trans community is it makes sense that writing for the masses means writing for cissies but there were a few moments that really struck me. In particular, the spelling out of the function of Truvada and Spiro as particular moments. Contrast this with the movie 'By Hook or by Crook' which is a pretty straightforward slice-of-life movie where the three main characters are trans, does not explain trans-ness to the audience, and is still comprehensible to a general audience. Writing this, I realize I'm being a bit of a crank (why can't I have a mass-market by-trans-for-trans novel boo hoo) and that having a nuanced explainer and introduction to (white, college-educated) trans culture is also really valuable.
I'm also interested in hearing from people who did not like the book, and from cis audiences too! Also apologies for rambling I'm not a very good writer. I have a lot ideas that make sense in my head that I can't seem to translate to written words very clearly or concisely. :)
Writing this, I realize I’m being a bit of a crank (why can’t I have a mass-market by-trans-for-trans novel boo hoo)
This is a legit and interesting question and you shouldn't feel selfish for asking about this. I find hispanic or latinx writings very meh a lot of the time and I don't think I'd ever fully seen my identity represented in a way that wasn't also appealing to the mass-market cutesie stereotype of "spanglish" speaking latinos, of the american masses.
I think a big part of it comes down to like density and the 'room of one's own problem'. For small and often marginalised communities like trans people and latinx people, how many good writers are there? Then, out of that pool how many have the stability and financial security to really devote themselves to writing? Then, out of THAT pool how many are going to focus explicitly on exploring their identity with their community as the intended audience? Probably not very many. And those good writers who might be interested in the project probably aren't going to reach financial stability writing/making art just for their own smaller and more marginalized community.
I'll add an actual reply to the thread that isn't just self-promo once I check out a few chapters of Detransition, Baby, but Urasaria Academy (free on Webnovel!) fits the first two, possibly the 3rd, and it has 450 followers/is likely unpublishable for numerous reasons related to the 3rd, so there's that.
I believe we differ slightly on the importance of identity, but it's almost a microcosm of the general writing advice I want to give to people: how can I tell them not to write cliches or tell them that characters should be fully-formed beyond their identity when both are what sells, is popular? Both mass-market fiction (whose cliched stereotypes are really just a symptom of their overall poor writing) and much trans-written fiction falls in to this, for me; I relate far more to the Texan post-war rancher Charlie Flagg in The Time It Never Rained, for his unwillingness to accept help that brings ruin to those around him, than I have any trans character beside my own.
Literature's general decline, to me, would also seem that it would push out marginalized writers further via that it's the artform that requires the leat money to write/enjoy.
Alright, I said I'd give a top-level reply after reading a few chapters. This is a longpost, which I frequently make, so I apologize for that. I think I'm still a little unclear on some things in your post, but you also asked for people who disliked the book, so here.
To start:
She liked how infatuated with her he had become, and how much he resented his own infatuation. The more he demeaned her, she knew, the more she’d hooked him. And so goading him into anger took on an unctuous, dangerous pleasure. Her friends hated him. Only Iris, she of the gorgeous blond hair and the party habit, who frequently disappeared into two- or three-day meth-fueled sex benders, really understood why Reese kept digging in deeper with Stanley. “I want to drive men crazy,” Iris said in her customary arch manner. “I want men to suffer. I want a man to love me so much he murders me. I want to die because I’m loved too much for him to tolerate my existence.”
I found the novel melodramatic and very, very trans-heavy. It is written for cis audiences in the same way that Brokeback Mountain was written for straight audiences, or the many pointless/unrealistic sex scenes of OITNB.
I have actually known trans women who, perhaps, possess this self-destructive trait, but the whole soap operaticness is far detached from reality. From what I read, there are several passages describing crossdressers, drug addicts, trans women who wish to look like bimbos and oodles of sex and chasers on Tinder. This is the core of melodrama: that there are no normal people.
The dreamy way that Iris talked about what should have been horror made Reese jealous. Before Stanley, Reese’s own sex games only flirted with possession, and alone with her Hitachi, images from Iris’s stories kept making cameos in her fantasies. Hands on her throat. Slaps to her face. Fight leaving her body. To Iris, though, Reese said little, other than “whoa.” Once, Reese asked Iris if she needed help, to get away from those men. In response, Iris grimaced and said, “It’s not like that.” And for once, Reese, the transsexual who hadn’t gone to college, much less Brown, was embarrassed by her sensibilities, as she clutched her pearls, primly imagining the sensationalism of an SVU episode featuring sex trafficking instead of whatever Iris actually got, emotionally or otherwise, from the men with whom she disappeared. It was the same tone of uninformed concern that older cis people used with Reese when they discovered she was a transsexual: Oh dear, your life must really not be okay. The response always surprised them: I chose this. I want it. It makes me feel right. Whatever Iris was getting, Iris got it because she found in it something she wanted and Iris had shared it with Reese, because she had sensed that lurking in an unspoken place Reese craved something kindred. The least Reese could do was to be honest, to not pretend like she didn’t understand the chaos that separated what can be wanted and what can be said.
The book namedrops Sex And The City at one point, which is amusing to me, because being raised by a mother (love ya mom, but I gotta do it to you) who watched it: there has never been a single more misogynistic show than S&TC, for its constant depiction of women as stupid vapid skanks. This point is lost on most, unfortunately, who do not question the point of feminism if it means only that people of color, LGBT+ people, and women get to be as shallow as white cis men.
So, it seems the same here. I'll note I'm generally curmudgeonly, so don't feel bad if you disagree. I hate making people feel demeaned. I'll also give examples of good transgender character writing later, to help make my point.
I'm unsure what you meant by the novel being written for cis audiences, though. I found it the opposite - I'd be surprised if any cis reader was interested in the paragraphs about chasers on OKC. I know that's odd, given what I said earlier, but that's the paradox: the heavy focus on [identity] should be alienating to non-[identity] readers who cannot relate, yet many of the best-sellers are the fiction that focuses heavily on [identity], which presumably means it attracts non-[identity] readers.
Does that make sense? Think of how we now laugh at how stereotyped Brokeback Mountain is. Still doesn't make sense? Ah. Shit.
Still, that's why I'm not certain what you mean by wanting a more trans-focused story. To me, talking about chasers and crossdressers and transgender women who want to look like bimbos and engage in self-loathing sex already seems very inside baseball. (Putting aside that these are not the main themes of trans life: we ought to be oppressed if they are, so shallow are they!) I agree the explanation of Spiro is odd, because I don't believe "chaser" was explained, yet they explain the particulars of hormones? There's even a dialogue about Laura Jane Grace later.
So, while it may not depict transgender women accurately, it does seem very trans-focused. This is another paradox of identity fiction: ostensibly it wishes to portray reality, but that identity is the primary focus departs from reality. Not only because a character's identity is often their least interesting trait, but because as my writing mentor told me: You may fuck as a lesbian, but you shit like everybody else.
(That's aside the obvious contemporarility of such narratives: imagine a 1900s reader eagerly learning about these bizarre creatures called "Italians".)
But I think you understand this, as well, with the Hook/Crook comparison (which I have not seen). Perhaps I'm restating your points or unintentionally misunderstanding them.
I think age & location has to do with it, as well; my interest in LGBT+ stuff waned as I began to recognize the community is like any other, with the typical snitches, bullies, cattiness, intellectuals and snobs that entails. I have trans & gay friends, but that's really moreso because they're more likely to have other things in common with me: their identity tints but does not determine their life.
So, I leave off on my own writing to counterposs and add to the points I made above. My sole trans female character is great, but she's explicitly cut off from her community because they view superheroes as cops/pigs (tragically hilarious). Her name is Serena Kunst, and she appears in the second year of the LGBT+ webserial Urasaria Academy (free on Webnovel!). Perhaps this is the type of fiction you're looking for; I honestly don't know, but I can at least say I expect the audience to already know a bit about trans people.
I'm spoilering this because it's a lot of text; read if you'd like, but note how developed she is in many traits not directly her transness.
spoiler
(This next passage refers to a character who sexually harasses Serena: it takes place before the first, so the reader does not know Serena is transgender yet, and assumes she is a cis lesbian.)
Kirihara's propensity for agitation mixed with attraction towards Serena reminded her of someone else from her past: one this narrative will later deal with. To her, Kirihara's verbal remarks were simply continuing the string of thorns that hung from the mouths of many in Serena's life. She had spent highschool hated by boys for being too feminine, and when she socialized with straight girls, they were usually the type who saw her more as a gay accessory than a thinking person.
(Similar. Note how this takes on dual meaning once her transness is revealed.)
She despised the police almost as much as Mia did. Her one interaction with them had been around her sixteenth birthday, when she decided to try some goth clothes & makeup. Feeling pleased on her way back, a police car had pulled up to the sidewalk, and a voice out of it shouted to get on the ground.
Assuming it was for somebody else, she kept walking, and the next thing she remembered was her face being slammed in to the wet asphalt, and her being shoved in to the back of a squad car. They said nothing as they drove her back to the station, and she hated that they forced her in to a holding cell with a few men. It was only after a few hours (and a phone call where her mother had chewed the sergeant down to the blood) that she was released, and told that they had suspected her to be a prostitute, due to her outfit. Later, her & her mother were told that they were conducting an internal misconduct investigation: the results of which were predictable.
Though she usually tried to deal calmly with the rotten hand life dealt her, part of her hoped that some Urasaria contract would bring her back to North Carolina. She had begun to like making Blackburn transhistorical in her life, implanting it back to certain memories. She thought about how his knee on her back would've earned him an legful of knives, and smiled at how Blackburn could fog the separation between her ideation & reality.
(This is trans-related, but very realistic and small, not melodramatic.)
This and other things about this moment were bringing her back to a shopping trip she had been on in highschool. She had come out to her group of female friends a year prior, and was out with them buying new women's clothes - which she preferred to just think of as clothes. As she came back from her section of the store, a few of her friends were coming out of the changing rooms, complimenting each other.
She went inside, tried one of her dresses on, and when she came out, one of the lesbians had said: "Aww, that makes you look like a real girl." The rest agreed, but what that meant Serena was in their eyes otherwise, was what stuck with her. No matter what she attained or how well she passed, she simply could be nothing but herself, and transgender.
(This refers to a normal conversation Serena overhears from another character.)
This bothered Serena, not because Kate had no idealization of Urasaria - Serena also saw it as just a job - but because she had no clue what 'conniption' meant, yet Mia did when she asked her later. This feeling of ignorance reminded her of when she had nearly failed a grade in highschool, that remained with her not because it proved she was stupid: but that she was only four points away from it. This was perhaps worse for Serena, for where failure may have engendered passion to change, now she was merely precarious and worried.
(This next one is a metaphor, of course, and comes at the end of an arc where Serena's dysphoria temporarily worsens.)
Yuruko handed her a second controller. "Uh, you have to use my third-party controller, though, sorry. It's basically the same, though."
Serena looked down at it: to her, it looked nothing like the official models. As she picked it up and started playing with Yuruko, though, the game onscreen centered her eyes, and she forgot what, exactly, had seemed wrong with it. Aside from an off-center trigger or smaller button, nothing bothered her in it.
A few minutes in, she accidentally pressed some extraneous button. Her character onscreen began spamming the same attack, and she paused as she mumbled to Yuruko she must've accidentally hit its turbo function. As she unpaused, her grip clenched, then relaxed, knowing she would not be bothered again until these features again appeared too steep.
(Finally, a dialogue on Serena & her father.)
"France-? -oh, yeah, you did." Serena rubbed her eyes. "Actually, this is kinda reminding me of when my dad died. I mean, not when he died, because I was too young to remember that."
"When you were younger?"
"Yeah, he died when I was a baby. But when I was growing up, my mom would talk about him all the time, and people from my family would always tell me about him, but... I just never really cared. My mom brought me to his grave when I was ten, and told me she was going to leave me alone for a few minutes, so I could, um, 'say what I wished I could say' to him."
"Did you say anything?"
"No. I just stood there and looked around until my mom came back. I've never gone back there by myself. And not because I don't think he would accept me being trans, but I just don't have anything but an idea of what he was like. He isn't real. Um, not even that, because I've cried at stuff like Attack on Titan, but I've never cried over my dad. The only reason I even remember it is because it's the only time my mom left me alone for a few minutes."
"Is she that protective of you?"
"Yep. I told you about when she called the cops on my ex-boyfriend, right?"
"For abusing you, yes."
"Yeah. He knew I was trans when we started dating, but he used to tell at me over stupid stupid, or threaten me in to...um. I don't really wanna talk about that stuff. I think his dad hated us dating, too, so he just dragged him out to the cops when they came. But I still dated my ex for a long time, and one time when we were cuddling, I remember I asked him why he still insulted me for being trans, even though he chose to date me. And he told me that he didn't really know why, and that he didn't like thinking about it because it made his head hurt."
"He didn't even try to excuse it?"
"No, it was pretty pathetic. But I didn't get what he meant until when I was talking to Yuruko, um, before we started dating, and I told her I hated how she was treating me like I was empty. A lot of people just expect me to do too much for them. But when we were walking back, um, I remembered something my ex said about how his family had this tradition where… every son had an -o name, right? Like, because they got cursed a hundred years ago, so every one was named Dino, Vito, Geno..."
"It sounds stupid."
"That's what I told him, and he just fucking exploded on me, that's why my mom called the cops on him. And I think it was because when I said it was dumb, he felt like there wasn't anything unique about him anymore. He was just some stupid tradition and he didn't know why."
idk if it's "mass-market" per se, but you might like the Dreadnought series. It's a "by-trans-for-trans" superhero novel,and its really good trans woman rep. It does include other rep (an NB character in the 2nd book) but their character doesn't really have depth because A) side character and B) the strength of the main character lies in the author pouring her heart and soul into her, and she can't really write an NB character to the same extent because the author is a trans woman. Other than that the series is WONDERFUL, I love it so much
In the homestretch of Dreadnaught now! Thanks for the rec but I'm really torn on it. Mostly the magical trans(ition/formation) keeps messing me up because I have a lot of toxic fantasies about magically waking up a cis woman or able to pass. There was also a bit of Danny's internal monologue when her family is trying to get her to transition back where she talks about how the traces of femininity would always be there in her body and in her bone structure so that HRT is pointless that struck me the wrong way.
Overall I'm really enjoying the novel and I think it's a really creative and fun use of the genre. I think especially for younger people it could be really empowering. I also enjoyed Danny's psychological reality, I think that that often goes underexplored in superhero media.
Read Sovereign a couple days ago, too! Those books just zip. Good (lampshading) of the erasure of non-white trans people and their accomplishments. I'm a big sucker for cape fiction. If you haven't read the webnovel 'Worm' by WIldbow I strongly recommend it! It's almost a speculative fiction novel bent on exploring the question 'Superheroes exist and are intergrated into the world, so what does that world look like?' And it holds no punches, and gets no one out of trouble with technobabble or here-to-fore unmentioned powers. Be warned it's incredibly addictive and almost as long as the harry potter series a few times over—I finished it in the course of a 13 day bender.