I just finished reading the novel Flesh and Blood by A. E. Dooland. This is the sequel to Under My Skin, which I blogged previously.
Not to get too spoilery, but to recap: Under My Skin introduced us to Min Lee, a stressed-out Australian/Korean woman who eventually realizes she is transgender. Min meets a schoolgirl named Bree, who feels like a live action anime character. Min faces prejudice at work and has to deal with the challenge of coming out to her doting boyfriend Henry. While it ends on a high note, you know that there are many more challenges in Min's immediate future.
In Flesh and Blood, Min has to deal with family issues and money problems. Now presenting as a man full-time (though non-binary), Min realizes that he just can't bring himself to tell his mother. He tells her a few lies to give himself more time, but those lies only cause Mom to text Min more often. Meanwhile, Min also meets Bree's dysfunctional family, and makes some terrible financial decisions.
I found many aspects of this book relatable. Bree's brother specifically reminds me of my brother-in-law. Both sets of parents are so set in their ways, that it's damn near impossible to change their minds, just like some relatives I know. And of course, money is always a problem with me.
Min makes some huge mistakes in this book. There were points where I was practically yelling at the book, “You shouldn't do this, what are you thinking?” …even though I make similar mistakes. Min's justifications are realistic, and while sometimes I felt like calling him an idiot, I can understand the pressure that led to these rash decisions.
What I love is that I can see the other characters’ points of view, even the ones who aren’t particularly nice. Min’s
mother is controlling on a level that I would call psychotic. But she
also sacrificed a lot to give Min a good life; working awful jobs so she
could put Min through college. She thinks she knows what’s best for
Min, and she wants to live vicariously through her daughter, so she
doesn’t care if Min doesn’t want the same things out of life.
Parents
should really consider this. If you child is suffering from
depression, really ask yourself: are you one of the sources of that
depression? And if so, do you have to be? Why? Is it really worth losing your child forever, just because they aren't living the life you would have chosen for them?
If you
feel that whatever you are doing is protecting them, are you sure
they’re better off? I’ve known a lot of overprotective parents, and
I’ve known parents who gave their children too much freedom. Invariably
it was the overprotective ones that did the most damage.
So while Under My Skin is a novel every transgender person should read, Flesh and Blood should be read by every parent of a trans child.
So I’ve now read all three of the books set in this
universe. I'm currently rereading the third book, "Solve for i", which is more of a spin-off than a sequel. I accidentally read it first because I didn't know it was a series at the time, and this time I'm picking up a few things I missed the first time. Solve for i is still my favorite of the three.
I hope Dooland releases more books in this universe soon. I would especially like to see more of Gemma Rowe, my favorite character. Solve for i also introduced a character named Mikey, who doesn't get a lot of screen time, and who might have a backstory worth telling. Hint, hint, @asynca!
Showing posts with label AE Dooland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AE Dooland. Show all posts
Saturday, August 18, 2018
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Transgender Fiction: Under My Skin
A while back I posted about some lesbian romance books I've been reading. One of the books was called "Solve for i" by A. E. Dooland. I didn't realize it until I was done reading it, but it was actually a spin-off of two other books: "Under My Skin" and "Flesh and Blood". So I read them in the wrong order, oops.
Under My Skin is about Min Lee, an Australian/Korean woman with oodles of artistic talent. She has an excellent (but stressful) job, and a wonderful boyfriend. Her life isn't perfect, but it's stable. That is, until everything gets shaken up at once. She is given the lead on an important project at work, she becomes friends with a hyper schoolgirl, and she begins having confusing thoughts about her gender identity.
Gemma from "Solve for i" is a side character the story. She's a friend of a friend who has a couple of significant scenes with Min. I still relate to Gemma more than any fictional character I've encountered, but Min Lee is pretty relatable too. Even though she's* the exact opposite of myself (she's FtM and I'm MtF), Min's feelings are very similar to mine. How she discovers her issues, how she feels about having to dress in the wrong clothing every day, loathing the person she sees in the mirror... these are so much like my own issues and experiences that it made the book feel very personal.
*note, since Min is FtM, I should probably be referring to her as "he". However, for reasons given in the books themselves, "she" is less confusing. Min is non-binary and doesn't care about pronouns, and some of the other characters continue to call her "she" throughout.
Since she's my opposite, my inner transwoman balked at some of Min's distaste for the things I want so dearly. I was reminded of something Data said to Spock on Star Trek: "In effect, you have abandoned what I have sought all my life." But I can still relate to it in more general terms. The cis people in the book ask a lot of the same questions and make the same anti-trans arguments I hear in real life. Min's own inner debates mimic mine. I really feel for her, and there were times the book made me cry.
Since this book was written by an Australian author and takes place in Sydney, it was neat seeing the little differences between American and Australian culture. It was even more interesting seeing how much was the same. Most of the time life was so similar that I forgot this was taking place on the opposite side of the world. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I aside from having to google a few words now and then, nothing really confused me.
If you are trans, you will find a lot of familiar things in this book, and may even find it life affirming. If you are cis, you may come away understanding trans people a little better. There’s a positive message at the end that’s so powerful, I really wish everyone would read this book.
This series is such a joy to read that I'm giving them the greatest compliment I can give an author: I'm not taking them off my Kindle when I'm done reading them. I know I'm going to read them again someday, probably soon enough that I don't want to have to redownload them. They're worth reading, and reasonably priced. But... do try to read them in the right order.
I still need to read Flesh and Blood. It takes me a long time to finish a book, and Dooland tends to be a little verbose (in a good way), so it might be a couple of months. But I will post here when I'm done.
Under My Skin is about Min Lee, an Australian/Korean woman with oodles of artistic talent. She has an excellent (but stressful) job, and a wonderful boyfriend. Her life isn't perfect, but it's stable. That is, until everything gets shaken up at once. She is given the lead on an important project at work, she becomes friends with a hyper schoolgirl, and she begins having confusing thoughts about her gender identity.
I’m kind of glad I read them in the wrong order. Min’s story gets so hopeless as the novel
approaches its climax, that I was starting to get stressed out myself.
It was a relief to partially know how things turn out. I swear, though, Lemony
Snicket has nothing on Min Lee.
If I’d had half as many things go wrong in one day as Min does, and I also lived in a 26th floor apartment with a balcony… well, all I’m saying is I’d be tempted. There've been times when a lack easy access was the only thing that saved my life. This is one of the reasons I don't own a gun: I don't need that kind of temptation lying around. But (and I'm trying to avoid spoilers here, but it needs to be said) the book has some of the best anti-suicide arguments I've ever seen.
If I’d had half as many things go wrong in one day as Min does, and I also lived in a 26th floor apartment with a balcony… well, all I’m saying is I’d be tempted. There've been times when a lack easy access was the only thing that saved my life. This is one of the reasons I don't own a gun: I don't need that kind of temptation lying around. But (and I'm trying to avoid spoilers here, but it needs to be said) the book has some of the best anti-suicide arguments I've ever seen.
Sometimes I thought the book was a little
repetitive, but it works. Min’s thought process is cyclical like mine. It's probably common among trans people - constantly talking yourself in and out of taking self-affirming risks. Heck, half of my personal blogs are variations of the same whine. I'm also redundant, I repeat myself, and I say things over and over.
Gemma from "Solve for i" is a side character the story. She's a friend of a friend who has a couple of significant scenes with Min. I still relate to Gemma more than any fictional character I've encountered, but Min Lee is pretty relatable too. Even though she's* the exact opposite of myself (she's FtM and I'm MtF), Min's feelings are very similar to mine. How she discovers her issues, how she feels about having to dress in the wrong clothing every day, loathing the person she sees in the mirror... these are so much like my own issues and experiences that it made the book feel very personal.
*note, since Min is FtM, I should probably be referring to her as "he". However, for reasons given in the books themselves, "she" is less confusing. Min is non-binary and doesn't care about pronouns, and some of the other characters continue to call her "she" throughout.
Since she's my opposite, my inner transwoman balked at some of Min's distaste for the things I want so dearly. I was reminded of something Data said to Spock on Star Trek: "In effect, you have abandoned what I have sought all my life." But I can still relate to it in more general terms. The cis people in the book ask a lot of the same questions and make the same anti-trans arguments I hear in real life. Min's own inner debates mimic mine. I really feel for her, and there were times the book made me cry.
Since this book was written by an Australian author and takes place in Sydney, it was neat seeing the little differences between American and Australian culture. It was even more interesting seeing how much was the same. Most of the time life was so similar that I forgot this was taking place on the opposite side of the world. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I aside from having to google a few words now and then, nothing really confused me.
If you are trans, you will find a lot of familiar things in this book, and may even find it life affirming. If you are cis, you may come away understanding trans people a little better. There’s a positive message at the end that’s so powerful, I really wish everyone would read this book.
This series is such a joy to read that I'm giving them the greatest compliment I can give an author: I'm not taking them off my Kindle when I'm done reading them. I know I'm going to read them again someday, probably soon enough that I don't want to have to redownload them. They're worth reading, and reasonably priced. But... do try to read them in the right order.
I still need to read Flesh and Blood. It takes me a long time to finish a book, and Dooland tends to be a little verbose (in a good way), so it might be a couple of months. But I will post here when I'm done.
Saturday, June 16, 2018
Living Vicariously Through Fictional Lesbians
(This should probably go on my entertainment blog, but it felt better here.)
Not too long ago I discovered BookBub, a site that e-mails you when Kindle books go on sale. If you read a lot of e-books, it's worth checking out. You tell them what categories you read, and they send you a daily e-mail with links to cheap/free books. I've collected a large library of free Kindle books this way.
I always thought romance stories were boring. But BookBub showed me a category of romance novel I'd never really thought about - Lesbian romance. Curious, I downloaded a few of the free ones just to see what I thought.
Well... I love them. As it turns out, I don't hate romance after all, I just don't like reading about men. Not that I dislike male characters, but my secret inner lesbian can't relate to them, and doesn't really care whether they "get the girl" or whatever. And if the main character is female, well sure I want her to be happy, but I can't relate to wanting a man.
So it turns out lesbian romance is right up my alley. Now let's be clear - I'm not talking about porn (though the occasional explicit scene doesn't bother me), but more like romantic comedies. I've read several of them now, and like any other genre, some are better than others. A couple of them were downright dull, but there have been a few standouts.
Here's a sampling of some of the ones I liked most:
The Rules of Love by Cara Malone
This is just a basic romance story between two lesbian college students. Ruby is popular, but a great student. Max has Asperger syndrome, and is very focused on her studies. At first they see each other as rivals, but later give in to sexual tension. But are they on the same page? Is it just a fling, or the beginning of a relationship?
I liked this one because it was breezy - nothing earth-shattering, just the kind of light-hearted book you might read on an airplane to pass the time. I was impressed at how well Asperger syndrome was portrayed (though it's not like I would know). It has two follow-up books, which I am considering reading. It's written in third person, but each chapter alternates which protagonist's point-of-view is in focus.
For those uncomfortable with love scenes, I should warn you that there are a couple. The first one actually takes several (short) chapters, because as I mentioned above, that's how it switches point-of-view. It takes a few chapters so you can see how each character perceives each part of the encounter. The sex scenes are tastefully written IMO, but still fairly explicit.
Rulebreaker by Cathy Pegau
Liv Braxton is a professional criminal on a mission of corporate espionage, hoping to blackmail a major company. She gets hired as a personal assistant to Zia Talbot, a no-nonsense executive with a weakness for beautiful assistants. Can Liv find the incriminating files before being discovered? And can she do it without falling for Zia herself?
This was the first sci-fi lesbian romance I've read, and I hope I find more like it. In fact, it has inspired me. I don't want to go into detail, but I am considering writing some GLBT sci-fi of my own. The world needs more of that out there.
Again, a warning for the squeamish - this one does have one explicit love scene. Which makes me wonder where one draws the line between erotic literature and normal romance stories. How explicit does it need to be? How many such scenes need to be in the book? How deep does the plot need to be, and does it matter if the sex is crucial to the plot? Of the lesbian romances I've read so far, I'd only call a couple of them "erotica" or "porn" (and Rulebreaker wasn't one of them), but that definition's going to vary from person to person.
Solve For i by A E Dooland
This is my favorite lesbian romance so far. Gemma is a neurotic math wiz, working a menial job at a major corporation. She has always thought of herself as straight, but has recently started having odd yearnings towards her long-time best friend, Sarah. Thus begins a journey of self-discovery and personal growth, where Gemma eventually realizes she's gay and has to find a way of coming out to her friends.
Though Gemma and I live extremely different lives, I identified with Gemma more than I have ever identified with a fictional character. It's written in first person, and the author has a real understanding of crippling social anxiety. Often Gemma would be asked a question, and she would spend so long weighing all her possible answers - just knowing that every answer was the wrong one - until she finally wouldn't say anything at all. I've been there.
I can't tell you how many times Gemma even annoyed me with her fear-induced procrastination. And each time I would think, "Dammit Gemma, you need to tell them right now... but yeah, I probably would have done the same thing." And that's the crux of it; it was like reading a character with my own worst qualities.
And yet, I would personally beat a puppy to death with a kitten just to have her problems. As much as she is a colossal screw-up (as am I), she's also a cute redhead lesbian with a decent job and several close friends. And by the end of the book she has overcome a lot of her fears and problems. If I overcame my social anxiety and fears, I'd still be a middle-aged fat guy with massive debt and the wrong genitals. In some respects, reading these lesbian romances may not be the best thing for me - when I snap back to reality afterwards, I grow even more depressed.
But anyway, it's a wonderful book. It actually made me laugh and cry several times, and I haven't cried from a book since high school. I plan to read Dooland's other books set in the same universe: Under My Skin and Flesh & Blood (which I believe take place before Solve For i, but feature some of the side characters).
Explicitness factor: Not very high. There are two love scenes, sort of. One of them is a bit explicit, but not much worse than you might see in a Dean Koontz book.
So if you only read one lesbian romance novel this year... oh, who am I kidding, no one who reads this blog is going to be into that. Regardless, Solve For i had a deep personal connection for me. Anyone who does decides to read it will understand the way I think a little bit more.
Not too long ago I discovered BookBub, a site that e-mails you when Kindle books go on sale. If you read a lot of e-books, it's worth checking out. You tell them what categories you read, and they send you a daily e-mail with links to cheap/free books. I've collected a large library of free Kindle books this way.
I always thought romance stories were boring. But BookBub showed me a category of romance novel I'd never really thought about - Lesbian romance. Curious, I downloaded a few of the free ones just to see what I thought.
Well... I love them. As it turns out, I don't hate romance after all, I just don't like reading about men. Not that I dislike male characters, but my secret inner lesbian can't relate to them, and doesn't really care whether they "get the girl" or whatever. And if the main character is female, well sure I want her to be happy, but I can't relate to wanting a man.
So it turns out lesbian romance is right up my alley. Now let's be clear - I'm not talking about porn (though the occasional explicit scene doesn't bother me), but more like romantic comedies. I've read several of them now, and like any other genre, some are better than others. A couple of them were downright dull, but there have been a few standouts.
Here's a sampling of some of the ones I liked most:
The Rules of Love by Cara Malone
This is just a basic romance story between two lesbian college students. Ruby is popular, but a great student. Max has Asperger syndrome, and is very focused on her studies. At first they see each other as rivals, but later give in to sexual tension. But are they on the same page? Is it just a fling, or the beginning of a relationship?
I liked this one because it was breezy - nothing earth-shattering, just the kind of light-hearted book you might read on an airplane to pass the time. I was impressed at how well Asperger syndrome was portrayed (though it's not like I would know). It has two follow-up books, which I am considering reading. It's written in third person, but each chapter alternates which protagonist's point-of-view is in focus.
For those uncomfortable with love scenes, I should warn you that there are a couple. The first one actually takes several (short) chapters, because as I mentioned above, that's how it switches point-of-view. It takes a few chapters so you can see how each character perceives each part of the encounter. The sex scenes are tastefully written IMO, but still fairly explicit.
Rulebreaker by Cathy Pegau
Liv Braxton is a professional criminal on a mission of corporate espionage, hoping to blackmail a major company. She gets hired as a personal assistant to Zia Talbot, a no-nonsense executive with a weakness for beautiful assistants. Can Liv find the incriminating files before being discovered? And can she do it without falling for Zia herself?
This was the first sci-fi lesbian romance I've read, and I hope I find more like it. In fact, it has inspired me. I don't want to go into detail, but I am considering writing some GLBT sci-fi of my own. The world needs more of that out there.
Again, a warning for the squeamish - this one does have one explicit love scene. Which makes me wonder where one draws the line between erotic literature and normal romance stories. How explicit does it need to be? How many such scenes need to be in the book? How deep does the plot need to be, and does it matter if the sex is crucial to the plot? Of the lesbian romances I've read so far, I'd only call a couple of them "erotica" or "porn" (and Rulebreaker wasn't one of them), but that definition's going to vary from person to person.
Solve For i by A E Dooland
This is my favorite lesbian romance so far. Gemma is a neurotic math wiz, working a menial job at a major corporation. She has always thought of herself as straight, but has recently started having odd yearnings towards her long-time best friend, Sarah. Thus begins a journey of self-discovery and personal growth, where Gemma eventually realizes she's gay and has to find a way of coming out to her friends.
Though Gemma and I live extremely different lives, I identified with Gemma more than I have ever identified with a fictional character. It's written in first person, and the author has a real understanding of crippling social anxiety. Often Gemma would be asked a question, and she would spend so long weighing all her possible answers - just knowing that every answer was the wrong one - until she finally wouldn't say anything at all. I've been there.
I can't tell you how many times Gemma even annoyed me with her fear-induced procrastination. And each time I would think, "Dammit Gemma, you need to tell them right now... but yeah, I probably would have done the same thing." And that's the crux of it; it was like reading a character with my own worst qualities.
And yet, I would personally beat a puppy to death with a kitten just to have her problems. As much as she is a colossal screw-up (as am I), she's also a cute redhead lesbian with a decent job and several close friends. And by the end of the book she has overcome a lot of her fears and problems. If I overcame my social anxiety and fears, I'd still be a middle-aged fat guy with massive debt and the wrong genitals. In some respects, reading these lesbian romances may not be the best thing for me - when I snap back to reality afterwards, I grow even more depressed.
But anyway, it's a wonderful book. It actually made me laugh and cry several times, and I haven't cried from a book since high school. I plan to read Dooland's other books set in the same universe: Under My Skin and Flesh & Blood (which I believe take place before Solve For i, but feature some of the side characters).
Explicitness factor: Not very high. There are two love scenes, sort of. One of them is a bit explicit, but not much worse than you might see in a Dean Koontz book.
So if you only read one lesbian romance novel this year... oh, who am I kidding, no one who reads this blog is going to be into that. Regardless, Solve For i had a deep personal connection for me. Anyone who does decides to read it will understand the way I think a little bit more.
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