It's an anthology of the publications of the UK Gay Liberation Front from the 1970s. I love the illustrations, the summaries of political disagreements between different factions of communists, anarchists, and assorted others, and the way that trans concerns, feminist concerns and anti-racism are as present in the thoughts of radicals then as they are now, even if different words are used. It's a great, accessible, fun compendium for anyone who wants to imagine a room with hundreds of gay people in it.
Come Together tells the incredible story of the emerging radicalism of the Gay Liberation Front, providing a vivid history of the movement, as well as the new ideas and practices it gave rise to across the United Kingdom. Before marriage equality or military service, Come Together reminds us of paths forged but not taken by queer politics in its earliest stages.
I love Stryker's theory and anecdotes from years spent working in the field of trans history and queer theory-- fundamentally, she shaped the field we walk on.
Susan Stryker is a foundational figure in trans studies. When Monsters Speak showcases the development of Stryker's writing from the 1990s to the present. It combines canonical pieces, such as "My Words to Victor Frankenstein," with her hard to find earlier work published in zines and newsletters. Brought together, they ground Stryker's thought in 1990s San Francisco and its innovative queer, trans, and S/M cultures. The volume includes an introduction by editor McKenzie Wark, who highlights Stryker's connections to developments in queer theory, media studies, and autotheory while foregrounding Stryker's innovative writing style and scholarly methods. When Monsters Speak is…
I love how Jeanne writes about trans girl teenagers with mystical connections to their passions, and magic bonds that don't fade even after they lose touch.
It is 1998; Lilith, Sash, and Abraxa are teenagers, and they are making Saga of the Sorceress, a game that will change everything, if only for the three of them.
Eighteen years later, Saga of the Sorceress still exists only on the scattered drives of its creators. Lilith might be the first trans woman to ever work as an Assistant Loan Underwriter at Dollarwise Investments in Brooklyn. Sash is in Brooklyn as well, working as a research assistant and part-time webcam dominatrix. Neither knows that the other is there, or that Abraxa, the third member of Invocation LLC, is just…
Fawn and Silver share nearly everything: coming out together as trans in their small Maryland town, clocking a copious number of hours in detention, and spending their sleepovers secretly making out. They’re also uniquely obsessed with vampires, who are being hunted, imprisoned, and executed for the danger they allegedly pose to human life.
Meanwhile in Seattle, Rachel's relationship to her girlfriend and her membership in her mother's vampire-slaying vigilante group is thrown into question when she's bitten by her mother's nemesis and awakes with a craving for blood. When Silver disappears and Fawn goes west in search of him, her and Rachel’s fates converge, both falling into the hands of Cain, an edgelord vampire known for his proselytizing for the drinking of human blood.
But in discovering hidden tunnels and secret bars, youth shelters and punk shows and safe houses, Fawn find herself in the middle of a vampire underground in Seattle—an organized resistance keeping each other alive through a network of blood distribution and protection from slayers.
Fawn’s Blood is a timely antidote to the anti-trans moral panic of today. Playing with tropes about monstrousness, predation, and villainy, this multi-voiced vampire novel offers a paranormal YA fantasy full of complicated queer characters—human and monster alike—all of whom are simply trying to survive in a world that wants them dead.
