Trans Fiction, Trans Imagination: I Will Answer Your Questions, If You Listen Closely
You want to know where you came from, is that it? Do not be embarrassed. Nature did not see motherhood in me, either.
You want to know where you came from, is that it? Do not be embarrassed. Nature did not see motherhood in me, either.
Sitting there, eyes closed, I could feel the subtle movements of the two people I was touching. To my right—someone I’d never met. I’d glimpsed basketball shorts, ragged tee, short hair. Muscular, athletic body. My hand on an unfamiliar, living knee.
Malinda Lo’s all-new short story about an inauguration protest that’s interrupted by an alien invasion is available exclusively on Autostraddle dot com!
It’s 2017, and married power lesbians Jenny Schecter and Shane McCutcheon face some tough stuff only days before Carmen De La Pica Morales is coming in for a weekend visit that turns out a whole lot cooler than anybody could’ve predicted.
“It is a matter of national survival that we never get used to the president’s hair.”
“Blaze squinted in the mirror and pushed her hair left, then right, then left, then right, then left, then right, then righter, then really left, then up a little, then all the way down […]”
“Of course I’ve heard of Smith! Are you fucking kidding me? Every lesbian has heard of Smith. It’s fucking Lesbian Hogwarts. God. They’re all there, with their hair always on point, studying sociology, and the leaves are yellow and filtering sunlight through them because it’s always autumn there because autumn is beautiful and the whole continent has conspired to make that place beautiful and lovely and gay. Gay as fuck.”
“The night was deep and dark over Ellen DeGeneres’ Burbank mansion. Inside her mahogany themed living room, Ellen sat in a velvet high back chair and quietly sipped whisky out of a crystal glass.”
If there’s anything y’all love, it’s sex and pure poetry. So obviously, both took center stage at A-Camp. Here’s a selection.
“It’s like diet-cunt, because cunt is the Queen Bitch.”
This is a poem about kissing.