Ally – Page 19 – A. L. Lester

Trans people in history

This morning I want to talk a little bit about trans people in history. Transgender is a word that can only be traced back to 1974, but that didn’t mean trans people didn’t exist before that date! Walter, one of the main characters in The Quid Pro Quo is transgender—he’s caused me all sorts of plot issues, but has sent me off to do lots of really interesting reading, which I’m delighted to share here!

One of the things that gender studies academics all agree about is that it’s almost impossible to know how people in the past that we now see as trans would have seen themselves. The records are very sparse, often sensationalised and are usually other people’s view of the person rather than their own. Who wanted to put that sort of thing down in writing when it would get you prosecuted or put in a mental hospital? So it’s hard to tell whether past figures were transgender; or whether they were passing as a man or woman in order to access spaces and privilege they would be otherwise denied. This is particularly true of people who were assigned female at birth and lived the bulk of their lives as men.

The most famous of these cases is Dr James Barry, who after his death in the mid-nineteenth century was revealed to be AFAB (assigned female at birth). I won’t write much about him here because this is the article I would write and Rebecca Ortenberg has already done it better than I would. Suffice to say that after he began his medical education at Edinburgh, Barry never presented or referred to himself as female again. He was only discovered to be AFAB after the person laying his body out for burial spoke about him. In recent years he’s been absorbed by the ‘plucky girl breaking the glass ceiling by putting on breeches’ narrative, which I personally feel is wrong.

This article at the British Library about Transgender Identities in the Past is fascinating. It focuses on two people, Eliza Edwards, who on her death in 1833 was discovered to be AMAB. And in 1901, someone we’d now understand to be a trans man who at the age of sixty and after several marriages and a career as a cook on P&O liners was revealed to be AFAB. The newspaper article calls them by a woman’s name. It completely erases the life they lived. The article has audio clips of a 2018 discussion between E-J Scott, curator of the Museum of Transology; Dr Jay Stewart, the chief executive of Gendered Intelligence, and Annie Brown, an activist, artist and GI youth worker. It’s worth your time.

In The Flowers of Time, my story set in the late eighteenth century, Jones the non-binary character eventually decides to present as masculine because it makes their life with Edie easier. They fudge the record, more or less blackmail close family into accepting them and that’s that. However, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that as time went on, communication became quicker and easier and records of births and marriages became more common it became much more difficult to pass. British army records mention Phoebe Hassel, who was discharged in 1817 when she was flogged and discovered to be a man (bottom of page seven, you have to register, but it’s free). We don’t know whether she was a passing woman for financial or social reasons or whether she was what we’d understand today as trans. Her male name is not mentioned. However, she must have passed well enough or had enough support by her peers to have concealed her natal gender for some years.

However, The Quid Pro Quo is set a hundred and fifty years later than Phoebe’s flogging and The Flowers of Time. By the time Walter joined up in 1898, there were medicals for army recruits. This was such a sticking point for me that I bottled it and I honestly tried to write the book with him as cis. However, he just wouldn’t play…he’d been trans in my head as I was writing The Fog of War, right back as far the planning stage of the trilogy. But when I came to write it, I couldn’t make the story work with him as trans because of the army regulations; and I couldn’t make the story work with him as cis because he’s not cis.

I threw the question to some of my lovely friends at the Quiltbag Historicals facebook group (join us, we’re cool!) and they immediately began working out ways I could fudge the story. So Walter begins his army career as his twin brother and has a little help from the people around him to keep his origins concealed. And I reassured myself that if people are prepared to suspend disbelief about the paranormal aspects of my stories then they can allow me this tiny (enormous) stretch of possibility to get it off the ground!

I love Walter. He’s so very pragmatic about his life and his place in the universe. He’s just getting on and doing his thing. I wanted him to have a happy ending so badly all the time I was writing The Fog of War and I was very pleased to be able to give him one here in The Quid Pro Quo.

I like to think of my stories as realistically historical first and paranormal second. My characters are just getting on living their lives—which have greater or lesser levels of complexity—and the paranormal comes and whacks them round the back of the head with half a brick in a sock. I try and make the history as accurate and the paranormal as twisted as I can! I think I’ve done Walter justice, as he’s one of my favourite people. I hope you like him too.

Lastly, here is a brilliant collection of books about trans history and trans issues, curated by Christine Burns and available from independent bookshops.

The Quid Pro Quo

Village nurse Walter Kennett is content with his makeshift found-family in tiny Bradfield. However one midsummer morning a body is found floating in the village duck pond, dead by magical means.

Detective Simon Frost arrives in Bradfield to investigate a inexplicable murder. The evidence seems to point to Lucille Hall-Bridges, who lives with doctor Sylvia Marks and nurse Walter Kennett at Courtfield House. Simon isn’t happy—he doesn’t believe Lucy is a murderer but he’s sure the three of them are hiding something. In the meantime, the draw he feels toward Walter takes him by surprise.

Walter is in a dilemma, concealing Sylvia and Lucy’s relationship and not knowing how much to tell Frost about the paranormal possibilities of the murder. He isn’t interested in going to bed with anyone—he’s got a complicated life and has to know someone really well before he falls between the sheets. He’s taken aback by his own attraction to Detective Frost and angry when Frost appears to twist the spark between them to something transactional in nature.

Will Walter be satisfied to stay on the periphery of Lucy and Sylvia’s love affair, a welcome friend but never quite included? Or is it time for him to strike out and embark on a relationship of his own?

Add The Quid Pro Quo on Goodreads

The Week that Was: Mattresses and activism

This week, we bought a new mattress. My back’s been increasingly creasing me and we’ve progressed through putting a board under the mattress, adding a memory foam mattress topper and then, finally, adding a big duck-feather thing on top of that. Making the bed is a bit like an out-take from The Princess and the Pea. (Yes, this is a genuine picture of me and Mr AL, in our night attire. Enter our bedroom at your peril.)

The whole process has been massively stressful, largely because it’s such a first world problem. Firstly there’s the cost. And secondly there’s the number of choices. And thirdly there’s my sneaking and increasingly unpleasant feeling that the world is going to hell in a handbasket and I should care more about the fact other people don’t even have safe spaces to lie down rather than the number of poxy springs I can afford to sleep on.

Yes, this is a post about guilt. But it’s also a post about nurturing your spoons. This is a bit of a stupid example–I could simply donate the cost of a mattress to an organisation helping the homeless and stop flailing about on the internet about it. It’s an analogy that I’ve been pondering though…how much is enough? In a society so unequal, how much is enough? Do I have to put up with a bad back to enable other people to have somewhere safe? Or can I make myself comfortable and help others too? It’s a really simplistic analogy, but I guess I’ve needed simplistic this week, because it’s what’s finally straightened my head out.

I’ve been really upset these last few weeks by the cess pit that’s the public discourse over trans rights in the UK. I’m saddened and upset by the level of hatred and silencing directed at trans people and a few weeks ago I decided I’d try and be a bit more active amplifying trans voices, and share things people can do to help. This has involved following accounts that share trans news. And even in this short amount of time, it’s devastated me.

I don’t know how these people manage it. There’s so much bile directed at them. I just pop onto their twitter timelines, check out the day’s events and see if there’s anything practical I can do to help…sign and share something, amplify news about a protest, that sort of stuff. I belong to a couple of blocklists and often the blocked responses scroll down and down and down the page. But then I come across a few people I haven’t blocked and the responses are vile; so I block them too. They are often accounts with followers below a couple of dozen, some only one or two.

After only a few weeks I feel worn away, exhausted by the horribleness of it all. I am non-binary. I present as a short, round, middle-aged straight person, married with children; and as such, my level of privilege is huge. I don’t get spat on in the street, or threatened at school, or shouted at in public bathrooms. Even watching the courage of these people with high public profiles from my safe position behind a keyboard I am awed at their strength. It’s the least I can do to keep trying to amplify their voices.

But…I can’t do it to the exclusion of the rest of my life…the looking after the kids, all the adulting I have to do on the day to day. And that includes the caring for myself. That’s the balance that’s so hard to get. And I guess it loops back to the stupid first-world thing about the mattress…it’s okay to look after myself and it’s okay to not feel guilty about that. As we travel along, our capacity to hold the light for ourselves and for others changes, whatever activism we participate in.

Some days you can’t even hold the light for yourself. Some days you can hold it for the village. It’s really important to a) remember that and not beat yourself up about it…you’re not failing if you can’t do it, you’re doing self-care. And b) you can’t do everything. Even on a good day, you can’t do everything. You’re in it for the long haul and whatever activism you’re doing, that’s enough. One step at a time and hopefully we can change the world.

Christine Burns has a curated list of books about the trans experience here.
Here are some resources for trans people experiencing homelessness.

Interview: Isabelle Adler

Let’s welcome Isabelle Adler to the blog today to talk about her recent release and answer some nosey questions!

I’m very happy to be here today to talk about my newest release, The House on Druid Lake. It’s a Halloween-themed M/M romance, sweet and emotional with just a tiny bit of spooky thrown into the mix, which I believe is the perfect fit for the autumn season. The story follows Oliver Foster, an aspiring young architect embarking on a successful career in Baltimore, who rents an apartment in an old Victorian house overlooking Baltimore’s Druid Lake. As he gradually meets his quirky neighbours and develops feelings for Nym, his enigmatic, gruff landlord, Oliver becomes convinced there is more going on at Lakeside Lodge than meets the eye, and Halloween might be just the right (or the wrong) time to unearth some supernatural secrets.

Where do you write?

I’m very lucky to have my own little writing nook with a built-in desk and shelves. It’s not very private, but I rely on my noise-cancelling headphones to filter the sounds of a busy household when I want to focus on my work. Sometimes, when I feel I need an even quieter space and a change of scenery, I take my laptop to a coffee shop or a library.

What do you like to read?

I used to read across different genres of speculative fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, historical adventure), but in the recent years I almost exclusively read romance, leaning heavily into queer romance. What can I say, with the world being currently the mess that it is, I feel like I need the assurance of a happy ending in my reading. Besides, the romance genre, and even LGBTQ romance in particular, is so broad, encompassing every kind of plot and setup one could wish for – mystery, paranormal, historical, etc. – that I’m never stuck for choice, depending on my mood and current interests. In my writing, I also dabble in a variety of different subgenres, which allows for a larger creative freedom.

Writing is an intrinsically solo occupation. Do you belong to any groups or associations, either online or in the ‘real’ world? How does that work for you?

I don’t currently belong to any writer groups, though I know authors who absolutely swear by them. I’m a very private and solitary person, and I’m rather shy when it comes to talking about myself or asking for opinions about my work – and I’m even worse about offering my opinion to others, unless specifically asked to do so. I tend to let ideas percolate in my brain until I feel they’re ready to become stories, and then it’s all about fleshing them out on my own.

That being said, I really enjoy interacting with readers and other authors on Twitter, sharing snippets of works in progress and bits of inspiration. That has become a huge part of my author experience, and I’m very glad that modern social media (as bad as it can be sometimes in other respects) has allowed me to be a part of a large writing community.

Tell me a little bit about your most recent release. What gave you the idea for it? How long did it take to write? What did you enjoy about writing it? What did you hate?

My recent release is called The House on Druid Lake. It’s a Halloween-themed M/M romance, published October 4^th, 2021, with NineStar Press. I simply adore holiday romances, and have written several stories centred around Christmas in the recent years, but I’ve always wanted to write a Halloween story. I’m not a huge horror fan, so I aimed for it to be more comedically spooky than truly scary. I had this initial idea about an old house inhabited by strange and mysterious creatures that are doing their best to blend in with human society (not always successfully), and it all developed from there. The thing is, because of my busy schedule, I didn’t have a lot of time to draft it before the fall release, so I had to complete the entire thing in about three months, which is an incredibly tight timeline for me! It was difficult, but also fun and challenging, and certainly made for an interesting experience. Still, I think I wouldn’t choose to work on such deadlines again!

The House on Druid Lake

A new city, a new job, a new home—things are definitely looking up for Oliver Foster. An aspiring young architect, embarking on a successful career in Baltimore, all he wants is to put the pain of a broken heart and broken trust behind him. The last thing he needs is another ill-advised romantic entanglement. But despite his best intentions, Oliver can’t help his growing fascination with Nym Brown, the mysterious owner of Lakeside Lodge.

When Oliver rents an apartment in an old Victorian house overlooking Baltimore’s Druid Lake, he expects it to be quaint and shabbily charming. But as Halloween draws near and all things spooky come out to play, Oliver becomes convinced there is more going on at Lakeside Lodge than meets the eye, aside from the faulty plumbing. His neighbours are a whole new definition of quirky, and his enigmatic, gruff landlord is both intimidating and dangerously attractive.

Dark and sinister secrets lurk behind the house on Druid Lake’s crumbling façade. Unearthing them might yet put Oliver’s future—and his heart—on the line.

Buy from Nine Star Press : Amazon US : Amazon UK : Kobo : B&N : Add on Goodreads

Meet Isabelle

A voracious reader from the age of five, Isabelle Adler has always dreamed of one day putting her own stories into writing. She loves traveling, art, and science, and finds inspiration in all of these. Her favorite genres include sci-fi, fantasy, and historical adventure. She also firmly believes in the unlimited powers of imagination and caffeine.

Email : Twitter : Website : Goodreads : Amazon

Tea and Suffrage in early twentieth century England

This week, let’s once again talk about tea. If you’ve read any of my books, any at all, you know my characters seem to spend an inordinate amount of time drinking it. And in The Quid Pro Quo, Simon also spends a lot of time having sandwiches or steak and kidney pie at the ABC Tea Rooms. I haven’t written them into stories before–I’m usually a Lyons Corner House sort of historical writer!—but I thought why not ring the changes?

food wood dawn coffee — Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Tea rooms and cafes are such a banal part of our existence now…but in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century they were actually part of a quiet social revolution, because–shock! horror!–women could use them unaccompanied. Nice women avoided pubs, and restaurants were off limits-women without male companions would be turned away.

The ABC tearoom phenomena began in London in the 1880s. ABC stands for Aerated Bread Company. The business was founded in 1882. They made bread without yeast, using compressed carbon dioxide instead to make the bread rise (it sounds yukky). They rapidly expanded with bakeries selling to the general public all across London in the next couple of years and one day someone had the bright idea of also selling tea and snacks to the customers. The first Lyons was opened in 1894 and to keep their market share, ABC began selling home-cooked meals.

By 1923, ABC had 250 tea-shops all over the world and Lyons had 240 in the UK. They both sold light meals. Both establishments were popular with clerical workers at lunch time and theatre and cinema goers in the evenings. However, the really extraordinary thing about them in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century was their connection to the women’s suffrage movement.

It was a momentous thing for women at the time, to simply get out and meet each other over a cup of tea and not be harassed or accused of soliciting. And this new freedom of movement and opening up of public spaces they could access brought great strides to both their social existence and their political one. You can read more about the connection between the suffrage movement and tea-rooms here. There were many smaller, independent establishments as well as ABC and Lyons, but the point of a chain is that it’s familiar and comfortable. And that must have made those early women adventurers into the world of unsupervised public expeditions more confident when they ventured out.

The suffrage connection to the teashops must have also impacted the tea-shop staff, because there was obviously a sense of comradeship between them. ABC employees worked a sixty-two hour week and pay was low. Lyons women went on strike to protest their own low wages in 1895. This is newsreel footage of striking Lyons employees from the 1920s. They apparently went out in support of someone who was dismissed for wearing her union badge at work. (Look at the hats—this was obviously just before the advent of the cloche!)

The final thing I should mention is that the Lyons Corner House at Coventry Street, London, was a well-known meeting place for gay men during the first three decades of the twentieth century. (From Matt Houlbrook’s Queer London). The waitresses seated women and families away from The Lily Pond at the far end of the room.

So, remember, when you pop in to a tea-shop for a cuppa whilst you’re shopping–you’re actually visiting what began as a radical space!

Am Reading

This week I’ve been reading two touch-of-sff romances with trans characters by J. R. Hart and Jem Zero and a short gay novella playing with memory by Nathan Burgoine.

Miss Claus by J. R. Hart

This is a wonderful, light, Christmassy book with brilliant world building and very good pacing. The North Pole is a business, a huge industrial complex, an employer of thousands. But it’s also a small town, with politics and potlucks and pettiness alongside family and friendships and living your best life. It’s so well drawn. It’s every small town based around one big employer you’ve ever been to, except alongside all that, there’s Christmas magic.

For me, a lot of that magic was intimately tied up in the main character Kristin, Santa Claus’ daughter. She’s a shoo-in for his job when he retires as per the family tradition…until she’s not. The story follows her shock, her devastation, and then her building confidence in her suitability for the job despite the ‘traditionalist’ members of the town council being against her. They are against her twice, once because she’s a woman and once because she’s trans.

I cried at various points during the story, partly because Kris is so well characterised. Her words of kindness to a trans child and their parent are beautifully set down and were one of my sobbing points. Her journey from self-doubt to self-confidence was a joy to follow. All the characters are well rounded and it was simply a pleasure to spend time with them.

Also you will need cookies as you read this. Don’t question this. Simply accept it and get them ready before you sit down to with this excellent book.

Home Within Skin by Jem Zero

I came upon this book from a GR rec and it didn’t disappoint. I loved the premise…here’s our world…but aliens turned up in 2004. Humans don’t like them much and treat them as second class citizens. I liked the way the alien Rrhi culture was drip-fed into the story rather than info-dumped. And I think the stab at depicting how humanity would treat an alien species who had to leave their home planet and turn up on Earth asking for help is pretty accurate. Humans are so disappointing, generally.

I very much liked the human MC, Jax, a disabled, homeless trans twenty-something man with so many issues he needs a wheelbarrow to carry them round in. The story is told from his POV, but in second person, which I often find difficult but in this case worked well for me. It felt like I was experiencing his life alongside him, because that this is how he inhabits the world, keeping it at a distance.

Some bits of the story…Jax’s distress, his inability to allow himself to be anything less than utterly self-reliant because he is so afraid of being let down, his reactions to kindness…are heart-rending. But his gradual unfolding, his journey to get to a place that’s okay, not perfect, not a fairytale happy ending, but simply okay, is really engaging.

I loved Sei-vész, his alien boyfriend…a practical and kind person who happens to have tentacles, horns, very non-human sex organs and green skin. The relationship between them was beautifully drawn. I thought the contrast between Jax, so uncomfortable in his own human body, and Jax’s reaction to Sei-vész, so alien to Jax and yet someone Jax accepted unconditionally where he couldn’t accept himself was achingly well depicted.

Basically, if you like stories with messy protagonists trying to get their lives together, alien sex bit and a happy ending, you should read this.

In Memoriam by Nathan Burgoine

I really liked this novella. I can’t write about it properly without spoilers I don’t think. But it reminded me quite strongly of the film Memento in the way it plays with time and memory. I couldn’t put it down, I was so invested in the main character’s story. I started off with one understanding of him and his life and by the time I got to the end that was all turned around like a Moibus Strip or an Esher drawing. I really enjoyed it.

That’s all for this time!