#trans novel

[fuddlyduddly]

hello! are you trans? have you read The Haunting Of Hill House by Shirley Jackson? do you think that novel has trans themes? if so please dm me to talk about it, I am trying to write a piece on the transness of Hill House and would love other perspectives!

[ritualoftheancients]

Ritual of the Ancients - Chapter 1: Delicious Neighbors

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here. *****

The locked door to my apartment building stared at me mockingly. I rattled the door in frustration, then rested my forehead against the glass.

This was the capstone to a truly terrible evening.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, but my words came out at less than a hoarse whisper. I coughed and massaged my neck, trying to clear my throat so I could buzz my roommate and ask her to let me in.

I hated to do it, given it was the middle of the night. Sleep deprived Lindsay was scary. But, as much as I dreaded her inevitable lecture on responsibility, I’d been mugged on my way home from work and the thief had made off with my keys—and almost everything else, including my museum employee badge.

At least, I assumed that���s what had happened, since I had no memory of the time between leaving work and waking up in a dumpster covered in blood. I didn’t even know whose blood it was, since I was unharmed except for a pounding headache and a sore throat. But it didn’t really matter.

Steeling myself for Lindsay’s yelling, I entered our apartment number into the keypad. The phone rang for a long time before Lindsay’s voicemail picked up. She had probably turned off her phone. Not the first time I hadn’t been able to reach her late at night.

I rattled the door again and then kicked it. I was exhausted and thirsty. So thirsty. All I wanted to do was drink a gallon of water and then crawl into bed.

I lingered by the front door while I debated what to do. If I got lucky, someone would come by and I could just follow them inside. But given it was the middle of the night, if I got unlucky I’d have to sleep outside.

I caught sight of my reflection in the glass and was horrified by the sight that greeted me. Nobody was going to believe I lived here looking like this. I scrubbed the worst of the dumpster’s grime from my face with my jacket sleeve and then smoothed my short black hair down. Nothing I could do about the blood stains down the front of my jacket.

After about ten minutes, another resident of the apartments came up the walk and unlocked the front door. I tried to follow him in, but the man turned to glare at me, blocking the doorway.

“Do you live here?” he asked me, planting his feet and crossing his arms as he glared at me.

My reply caught in my dry throat. My tongue felt like sandpaper. I tried to sidle around him to the elevators, but the man threw out an arm to stop me.

“I don’t think so,” he said, moving closer and lifting his hand to shake his finger at my face.

I scowled and took a breath to try again to reply when the most delicious scent hit my nose—like all my favorite foods had combined into one delightful potpourri. Two sharp objects pricked my bottom lip. Without thinking, I lunged forward and bit down on the man’s hand.

Liquid warmth hit my tongue. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever had in my life, yet the taste was totally indescribable. As I greedily sucked down the blood, warmth spread through me, chasing away the chill. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d been until then.

My neighbor screamed and pushed me away. I stumbled backwards, but with my mouth clamped on the man’s hand, I dragged him with me. We spun out onto the walk, the man beating at my head with his free hand. But between the taste and the warm feeling, he might as well have been on the moon for all I heard or felt his cries.

“Get off him!”

I was only dimly aware of the voice until someone punched my jaw, and although it didn’t hurt, the shock of it made me open my mouth and let go.

“He bit me!” my neighbor slurred angrily.

I fell back a few steps before getting my feet under me. A second man, dark-skinned and wearing jeans and a leather jacket, stood in a protective stance between me and the neighbor, who was clutching his bleeding hand to his chest and beating a hasty retreat toward the apartment doors. I recognized leather jacket man as another resident of the apartments.

“What the hell were you thinking?” leather jacket growled. I narrowed my eyes at my prey getting away behind him.

There was a lump in my throat, and I was having trouble swallowing. “Thirsty,” I managed to get out. The unfamiliar shape of something against my lips made it hard to talk.

I met his eyes, and then my gaze traveled lower, to his neck. To the way the vein there seemed to jump to some silent beat. I wanted it.

Growling, I darted forward. Leather jacket man crouched and spread his arms, expecting me to try to dodge around him, so he was caught unprepared by my charge. I hit him in the chest, mouth spread wide, and bit down hard on the front of his neck. He bellowed, but I barely registered the sound. More delicious nectar danced along my taste buds, commanding all of my attention.

That was until the smooth skin under my lips began to sprout hair. The shock of feeling the hair against my tongue made me let go.

I stumbled back, landing on my butt in the grass. I felt like I was well on my way to drunk. I opened my eyes to find that the man was gone. Standing in his place, on four legs and wearing the man’s leather jacket and jeans, was a coyote.

“What the hell?” I sputtered in surprise as I licked my lips to get the last of the flavor off of them.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” the coyote said.

“The coyote… talked.” The mugger’s blow to my head must have been worse than I thought if I was hallucinating. At least the headache that had been bothering me was gone, as was that intense thirst.

The coyote put its ears back and glared at me while kicking off the jeans that were wrapped around its back legs and tail. “Are you a complete idiot? Wait, never mind. Don’t answer that,” the coyote said when I opened my mouth to reply.

The coyote trotted over and sat in front of me, looking incongruous in his leather jacket and shirt. “You are in so much trouble.” The coyote glanced around and then back at me. I blinked stupidly at the coyote while the dew from the grass soaked into the seat of my khakis. “At least it looks like your victim made it onto the elevator before I changed. Still, I’m going to have to write you a ticket,” the coyote said.

My head spun as I tried to keep up with the coyote’s words. “Ticket? What?” I could see the blood staining the coyote’s shirt collar, confirming that this coyote was the person I’d bitten on the neck. “What is going on?” I looked around for hidden cameras, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the quiet neighborhood. “Am I on a prank show?” It was the only explanation that made sense to me.

The coyote stared back at me, looking as confused as I felt with one ear cocked back and his head tilted to the side. “Who’s your Maker?”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped back. Somehow this night was becoming rapidly weirder, and I didn’t even understand how that was possible. “How is a coyote talking to me, anyway?”

“You.” The coyote reached up with one paw and placed it over its eyes in a very human gesture. It put its paw down and sighed. “First, I’m not a coyote. I’m a jackal. Second, you can’t just eat random people off the street. We have rules, young lady.”

“I am not a lady, I’m a guy.” My heart sunk at the misgendering, as accidental as it had been. I pushed the disappointment away and forged on. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to try and eat you, or that other guy. You both just smelled,” I took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed at the memory of the smell and the taste, “delicious.” All I wanted to do was go home and have a shower, followed by a stiff drink. Was that so much to ask?

“It’s not for some reason. Didn’t your Maker cover anything before sending you out on your first hunt?” The coyote—scratch that, the jackal looked around and then shook his head. “We shouldn’t even be discussing this outside. Come on, let’s go to my apartment and we’ll get this sorted out.” He trotted on four legs over to the jeans and tennis shoes that lay abandoned on the sidewalk, then turned to look expectantly at me. “You’ll have to let me in, keys are in my front pants pocket. And bring my pants and shoes while you’re at it.”

I’d stash the amulet, and then get a ride to the hospital. I was obviously hurt worse than I thought if I was hallucinating talking jackals. I walked over to the jackal, picked up the jeans and shoes, and found the keys in the front pocket, just as he had said.

The jackal followed me to the front door, the corners of the jacket’s unzipped sides dragging on the ground under his chest, and waited while I unlocked it. We got inside the elevator together, and before I could press the button, the jackal jumped up and bumped the five button with its nose.

When we got off the elevator, I trailed him over to an apartment door. The key from his keyring worked, and I let myself in. The jackal darted in after me. As I shut the door behind us, he said, “Just drop the pants and shoes by the door, and I’ll get them later.”

Shrugging, I did as the jackal said and then followed him farther into the apartment. He turned and looked up at me. “Wait on the couch, I’ll be right out.

I sat on the couch, looking around. The apartment was neat and tidy, except for a dirty cup on the coffee table and a discarded magazine on the couch. I picked it up and flipped through it to see that it was all about hiking and camping. Ironic, since it was owned by a talking jackal. I snorted and tossed the magazine on the coffee table next to the dirty cup. Framed movie posters from famous action and detective films lined the walls. Given that I saw literal masterpieces every day at work, the movie posters were actually a nice change of scenery. I might have to get some for my apartment.

The man, human again, came back into the living room. He’d changed into a new dark-blue button-down shirt and dark slacks. He rubbed the side of his neck ruefully, although my teeth marks were gone.

I winced and touched my own neck. “Sorry about the…” There wasn’t a delicate way to put this, so I just spit it out. ”… biting. I don’t know what came over me. Why aren’t you bleeding anymore?”

He shot me a hard look that I couldn’t read, and moved to stand in front of the coffee table with his arms crossed, looking down at me. “As a vampire, you should know better than to let yourself get so thirsty.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I threw up my hands and flopped against his cushions with a cry of frustration. “I’m not a vampire!”

“You most certainly are.”

I crossed my arms and glared back at him. “Let me repeat myself. I’m. Not. A. Vampire.” I ran my hands down the legs of my pants, trying to hide the way my hands started shaking at his questions and carefully avoiding touching the amulet through the cloth. “My name’s Everett, by the way. Nice to meet you.” I stuck out my hand.

“Jack.”

Jack didn’t move, just looked down at my outstretched arm, and I pulled back awkwardly. He briefly closed his eyes and reached up to massage his temple. The gesture looked better in his human form than it had when he’d done it as a jackal. He sure was handsome. I realized I was staring and glanced away, blushing.

“Okay, Everett,” Jack said, moving around to sit on the chair closest to me. “I see I’ll need to start at the beginning. You are a vampire. Apparently one with a very negligent Maker, but trust me. You are a vampire.”

“And you’re what, a werejackal?” I snorted. “That’s stupid.”

Jack shook his head, looking somehow both bemused and frustrated. “It’s not stupid, it’s the truth. Now, it’s not your fault, it’s your Maker who’s going to get in trouble. I’m just glad I found you when I did. How many people have you drunk from?”

“I assume you mean the biting?” I asked.

Jack nodded.

“Then just you and the other guy you saw.” I wondered where his questions were leading.

“Did he recognize you?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t want to let me inside the building, which was how it all started, so no, I don’t think he did.”

“Good. Hopefully he’ll just think you were a pissed off junky, rather than a vampire.” Jack cocked his head, frowning. “Have you been feeling strange?”

I nodded, puzzled. “Yes, thirsty and fuzzy, with a persistent headache. It started after I was mugged earlier tonight. I’m not sure how else to describe it. I feel more alert now, though. Since I bit you two, it’s like everything is in sharper focus.”

“Tell me everything you remember.” Jack sat forward, focused on my face.

“Why?” I froze in the act of running my hands down my pants again. The amulet hidden in my pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Jack sighed and put his hands on his knees. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this, because I can tell you’re nervous, but I’m a, well, a cop. Of sorts.”

This day was just getting better and better. Now it turned out that not only was I sitting in a cop’s living room with stolen loot in my pocket, also I was now a vampire? I had no idea which was worse, but at this moment I was leaning towards the former.

I licked my lips. I could still taste blood on them, and I wanted more. Jack was looking at me expectantly. ”Of sorts means that you aren’t a cop,” I said, looking at him in what I hoped was an expression of innocence and not guilt.

“Not in the way you’re used to, I expect. There’s a whole supernatural society threaded through the human world. I keep the peace in that world. Punish people who don’t follow the rules, help newbies, and make sure we’re kept secret. Which is why I need to find out who made you and why.”

I sat back, blinking. “Oh.” This was even worse than I’d thought.

Jack drummed his fingers on his leg while he regarded me. Every few seconds his eyes darted up to a clock on the wall that showed that it was just past midnight.

“Do I have blood on my face?” I reached up to touch my chin.

Jack shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to figure out what to do with you. I’m late for work as it is, but a newly-made vampire shouldn’t be left alone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I snapped, glaring at Jack. “I’ll just go home and hang out there. I need to shower and change clothes anyway.”

Jack sighed and stood up. “No. I’ll take you to your place so you can grab a change of clothes, but then I’m taking you to the office with me.”

Crap. That would be bad. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. I’m in apartment 609 on the sixth floor. I’ll hang out there. Just come by after you get off work.”

“And leave you to get burned to a crisp by a stray bit of daylight coming in through your window? I don’t think so. This is one of the reasons vampires get in trouble if they abandon a newbie like this. You don’t realize how quick you’ll go up in flames if daylight touches your skin.”

Jack kept talking and I rolled my eyes, stifling a groan as I followed him into the hall. I was still having trouble believing this vampire story Jack was trying to sell me, but I couldn’t figure out what he would get out of lying to me. I needed to find a way to ditch him.

~~~~

If you are enjoying this novel, you can pick up an ebook copy at the store of your choice: https://books2read.com/ritualoftheancients

Continue on to chapter 2~

[roanrosser]

Drew a picture from Ritual of the Ancients, when Everett (the vampire, trans man) meets Jack (the shifter in the jacket) for the first time.

[newlevant]

Preview of Sam Long’s story, drawn by the amazing Cynthia Yuan Cheng! (@cynthiaycheng, cynthiaycheng.com)

Becoming Who We Are Kickstarter ends Dec 14! Preorder now to help us fund the book!

bit.ly/becomingkickstarter

[jesncin]

Happy National Coming Out Day! It's been about half a year since our middle grade graphic novel, Lunar Boy, released! Today we want to reflect on the concept of Coming Out, and how it's fictionalized in media.

Check out Lunar Boy wherever american graphic novels are sold, or check it out at a library! All the support means a lot with getting stories like this out there.

[saccharind]

from Prokaryote Season by Leo Fox

[thetransfemininereview]

OKAY there’s no business as usual right now, but we can’t let em throw us off the routine forever 😤 so back to reading! Super pumped for this recent release from Visaggio, I’ve heard great things about it 💖

[geekstudio]

Queer Readings Pins & Stickers coming to Kickstarter

Stacks of books in the colours of various Pride flags will be available as enamel pins and stickers! Every pin comes with a matching sticker and more flags will be unlocked as stretch goals.

The campaign will run from June 11 - 27.

Click here to see the campaign!

[kingtuna]

WHY DID I JUST NOW LEARN THAT THWRE IS A CANONICAL TRANS FEMALE CLONE TROOPER??

a CANONICAL trans clone

RAHAHHANDBWJDBCIOWNSJ

also this ties beautifully back to my post about the clones and gender

Sister's vode accepting her without a thought and the jedi encouraging her

just

QHGXJSJNXKSMNZJA

this is so important

how come I didn't know this sooner?

this is such a huge thing, to have her canonically exist

I don't have the words

[stemmmm]

Good Lord! Everyone at the Reunion For My Religious All-Girls School Is a Trans Man... And They're Hot?! is out now!

It's a romantic comedy otome game featuring three trans masculine love interests made over a 2(ish) month period for the Otome Jam and the Trans Rep Jam!

AND IT'S COMPLETELY FREE TO PLAY!

Hop over to itch.io to catch up with your old classmates!

[fuddlyduddly]

Hey, I saw you talking about reading The Haunting of Hill House via a trans lens and I got curious. Could you elaborate on that, please? Cause I found it really interesting.

yeah I can! I've been meaning to write some sort of article about why I feel Hill House is trans, so this is a good excuse to get these thoughts written out.It's mostly that I find the story and its themes to be very trans to me, specifically with the character of Eleanor; when I was a teen and didn't know I was trans, and I found myself drawn to her for reasons I couldn't understand yet. There are a lot of things about her that spoke to me as a pre egg-crack trans woman; the way she feels like she's been waiting her whole life for something, anything, but she doesn't know what; the way she's felt trapped by the expectations of her; the way she's so shy and withdrawing (she reminds me in a way of this quote from Imogen Binnie's Nevada: "Maria is transsexual and she is so meek she might disappear"); the ways in which Eleanor constantly feels out of touch with the people around her and can't figure out social situations; the ways she's never felt wanted ("I am a sort of stray cat aren't I?"); the way she is prone to misreading casual relationships because she isn't experienced enough to know she's mistaken; and especially how she so desperately wants to belong. Eleanor is so withdrawn and desperate for connection that she lets the House take her over because, at last, “something is at last really, really, really, happening to [her]”, and unfortunately I could relate to that; she's so desperate to belong that she'll let anything happen to her, even if it kills her.

One line in particular really speaks to me every time I reread the book: “—and then each year, one summer morning, the warm wind would come down the city street where she walked and she would be touched with the little cold thought: I have let more time go by.” To me, that's what it felt like pre realization, every year would go by and I'd feel like I'd missed something; I wouldn't know what, but I'd know I'd let more time go by. Eleanor's story is one of a person who's been waiting so long to make a change, that when a change finally happens, it's too late for her; she's waited too long, and she's out of time. It's rather bleak, but so is gender dysphoria.

I think for me ultimately, any story about a woman who feels trapped and out of touch in some way will feel trans to me (I have a Letterboxd list about that with all sorts of movies on it), but Hill House really sticks out to me because of how acute and specific Eleanor's pain is, and how relatable I found her; her pain feels very transfeminine to me in ways I'm not quite sure how to articulate. I've found a lot of other transfems on tumblr who are also very drawn to Hill House, and in a way its very nice to see us all have a special connection to this book.

also part of this realization came from this post!

[miapcain]

Lovely Lady RPG releases, after nearly four years of development, at the end of the week; You'll be able to purchase it at https://das-kunstkollektiv.itch.io.

The LLRPG Official Artbook will also be available there, and feature high resolution version of nearly every artwork in the game- including some pictures that aren't in the final game, full res versions of character art, sketches and temporary pieces, and some dev commentary on the game and artwork.

It's a great way to support us and get more than just the game out of it! Either way, I hope you give the game a shot, and I hope you like it! We did our best.

[roanrosser]

The first book in my paranormal thriller / slow-burn gay/trans romance series! Set in the pacific northwest.

[speerfisch]

rip me apart, split me plant new seeds

let me feel the worms twitching

let me grow anew like a forgotten garden, let gentle deers meander through me

carried by the arms of the storm I want

to be in awe.

illustrations, text and typographie ©marlin finn mackensen, 2023

[jesncin]

Happy Pride! Now that Lunar Boy (our middle grade graphic novel) is out, we wanted to share our thought process behind queer vocabulary in media. The constant censorship, imposed western biases on queer culture, and what it means to introduce queer vocabulary to a young audience.

Check out Lunar Boy wherever american graphic novels are sold, or check it out at a library!

[exai]

"Go on, Dominique, touch my wound and behold me."

THE DEVIL'S IMAGO

☞ A tale of primeval forces, unknown, uncaring, and unearthed, set in 17th century Provence in a village forsaken by the state, forgotten by God, chosen by the Devil.

text-heavy visual/kinetic novel

supernatural historical fiction

people keep saying "play it if you like cosmic horror, clive barker, and david cronenberg" make of that what you will

18+ only / check content warnings before playing

can be played/read in 30~45 minutes

the game has one ending

☞ play on itch.io