6 posts tagged writer

Morty: The first question is a two-in-one. When did you know you wanted to become a writer? Are you more a writer or poet or do both words appeal to you?

Oliver: “Writer” is functionally correct, of course, but “poet” feels more true to my heart. I worked for a year as a technical writer at a federal agency in Washington,DC. That was writing, sure, but it wasn’t poeming. So I like to get specific about it. And I’m not sure I knew I wanted to be a writer. Maybe what came first is that I knew I wanted to write. The “being a writer” part followed. I’ve always written, but it was kind of a process of realizing that I could just do that and take it seriously.

Morty: Can you tell us about the MFA program you’re in? How did getting the Martha Meier-Renk Graduate Fellowship come about?

Oliver: The MFA program at the University of Wisconsin-Madison is such a gem. I seriously don’t have enough good things to say about it. It’s small—there are just six of us poets. The fellowship relieves me of my teaching duties for next year, and while I love teaching and will miss it, I’m also so excited for the gift of extra time to write the best poems I can possibly write, and to complete my MFA thesis, which will be a book-length manuscript of poems that obsess over gender, hybridity, identity, and language.

Morty: On your website it says you teach creative writing. Where do you teach and is teaching everything you thought it would be?

Oliver: I teach at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Teaching is great fun; I’ve enjoyed it so much. This past year, I’ve designed and taught a section of Introduction to Creative Writing, which at UW is a class for sophomores. I’ve written more about teaching here at Original Plumbing.

Morty: Do you consider yourself a “trans poet/writer”? Tell me why or why not? Does it feel too limiting?

Oliver: This is such a great and big question! If we look at the prefix trans- which means, “across, beyond, through, so as to change,” then who wouldn’t want to be a trans poet? For me, in poetry, there must be movement, some kind of tension, and I see my trans experience as deeply informing that. I don’t find it limiting at all. I find it greatly expansive. For me, this expansiveness comes from the specific ways in which I understand the words “queer” and “trans”—as referring not only specifically to sexual orientation and gender identity, though of course they describe that, too, but also to all things strange, odd, boundary-defying, and so forth. So, while I can identify with ease as a queer writer or a trans writer, identifying as a “homosexual writer” or an “FTM writer” might make less sense to/for me, because my relationship to those words is different.

I’m still just beginning to think this through, and it’s possible that I might answer this question differently in the future. We are supposed to fear being pigeonholed; we are not supposed to be an identity poet. I try to write poems that people can connect with, can have an experience with, whether or not they are trans, but I’m also not interested in going the Edward Albee route and pretending that my trans experience hasn’t greatly informed what I want to do with language. Much of what I’m interested in relates to queer and trans poetics—imagination, futurity, genre, shame…. in language, really, and in queer and trans ways of doing punctuation and grammar and form.

There’s nothing wrong with identifying as a trans writer. People get so afraid of that. The truth, I think, is that it’s both/and. The prefix doesn’t make us any less of a writer. I don’t want to make an authoritative declaration about this, though. I understand that there are writers who identify as queer or trans but don’t link that to their writing, and there’s got to be space for that, too.

Morty: I really love Glitter Tongue as a place for queer/trans poetry to thrive online. I’ve gone back to the site many times to reread poems which resonated with my own love life. What was the impetus to start Glitter Tongue?

Oliver: Thank you! Glitter Tongue began, really, with a Facebook update that the fabulous queer poet Margaret Rhee posted—something about how queer love is so good but so hard. And I responded and we decided, with a few others, to write queer love poems that week and share them with each other. I was so moved and excited to read their poems that I wanted to expand the project, to have more people write queer love poems and more people read them. And that became Glitter Tongue. I’ve been so excited by the response.

Morty: Where do you think trans literature is headed? Do you see a shift occurring?

Oliver: There’s this quote by Trish Salah, from an essay I read recently titled “In Lieu of a Transgender Poetics”: “Back to the word transgenre, and the genre of trans, writing. It isn’t quite yet one. But like most things that are only partly there we can imagine its future or past shape.” I like thinking of it in this way. I don’t know that I can say where trans literature is headed, but I know that it is heading, is in motion, and that excites me greatly.

Is trans yet a genre? I don’t want “trans literature” to be its own, isolated genre—I want it to inform all the genres, and even more so, I want it to inform the way we think about genre, which is really just another system of categories. I think we’re at a point in time where trans literature is beginning to be written, in glimpses. Trans literature is nascent and therefore brimming with possibility, and I can’t wait to see where we take it.

Morty: Who are some of your favorite trans, genderqueer, gender variant, intersex, etc.  writers/poets?

Oliver: Where do I start? I’ll take the easy way out and refer you to the forthcoming anthology of trans and genderqueer poets, edited by tc tolbert and Trace Peterson, which will have poems and poetics statements from fifty poets. In addition, at AWP this year I went to the Gender Interrupted reading, which featured the poets Stacey Waite, Sam Ace, Ely Shipley, and Joy Ladin, who are all doing really exciting and important work. The reading was packed to the brim—AWP has got to start giving bigger rooms to the queer and trans panels! Or maybe it’s fitting that way—our critical mass/gorgeous excess was so inspiring.

Morty: What advice would you tell aspiring trans writers about the decision to go to school to study writing?

Oliver: If you feel like you must write, if you have tried to do other things and can’t, if you have tried to talk yourself out of it and can’t, then you should maybe consider getting your MFA. More and more these days—many people still don’t know this—there are programs that will pay you to attend and write and be in workshops and teach. It’s the gift of time, yes, but it’s also building a community and having readers and being a reader and allowing yourself to be immersed in your craft for a few years. That’s a pretty amazing thing.

But if you can’t, or won’t, get an MFA for whatever reason, you’re not out of luck. Writers since time immemorial have held down day jobs. Whether or not you go to school for writing, my advice would be to read as widely as you can. And write. And don’t self-destruct.

Bio: Oliver Bendorf is an MFA candidate at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he teaches creative writing and serves as Editor-in-Chief ofDevil’s Lake. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from Ninth Letter, PANK, Anti-, The Journal, and elsewhere, and his work was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. The recipient of fellowships from the Lambda Literary Foundation and the New York State Summer Writers Institute, he also writes for Original Plumbing magazine. Please visit: oliverbendorf.com 

Morty: Hi Arden. Are you ready to chat?

Arden: Sure!

Morty: My first question has to do with your work…how did you decide writing would be the thing you would dedicate yourself to. 

Arden: I fought the idea of being a writer at first. This might have been in part because I thought I was going to be a medical doctor (like a dermatologist or something)  

Morty: Really!

Arden: Yup. The gender neutrality of “Doctor” also might have appealed to me on a subconscious level.Eventually, I realized that in any career I thought of for myself, I saw myself writing. I realized what a large space writing had in my passions. It was just bigger than a lot of my other life ideas.  I actually never took creative writing classes in college although I did write a chapbook of poems for an independent study and again for my undergraduate thesis.  I quickly dropped the pre med major. I didn’t like the science classes or blood and guts.

Morty: And now you’re in a PhD program?

Arden: Yes, out on the prairie.  I got my Masters of Fine Arts in poetry from Hollins University but, because I still like the critical components of writing, I decided to pursue a PhD.

Morty: Have you always had an interest in writing?

Arden: The signs were there before I made the switch in school. In my advanced biology class in high school I wrote a paper that focused on the stereotype of the “evil albino” in literature and culture. I think I titled it the social consequences of albinism or something “very scientific”.  I’ve always written poetry. Eventually I branched out into creative non fiction and fiction..and erotica. Poetry is what I’m working on the most in my PhD program.

Morty: Because you’re getting a Phd, does that mean you want to teach? 

Arden: Absolutely.  I’m currently teaching in addition to taking classes, so that’s a tough load.  I’m looking forward to teaching at the college level after I graduate. Teaching writing while I am writing feel very complementary to me.  Having enough time to be the kind of teacher I want to be and still produce, publish, and keep up with the work of other writers can be tricky but I’m learning.  I have and have had many great teachers as mentors.

Morty: Poetry can be very hard for people - what do you say to those who find poetry hard to “get”?

Arden: There might be multiple meanings behind a poem. Also, the language can just be delicious on the tongue… I think in my own poems I try to tie language and imagery to some element of narrative.

Morty: Yeah, I see that in a lot of your work.

Arden: There is still poetry I don’t get. Sometimes this does prevent me from enjoying the poem.

Morty: Well, I love poetry. I tend to enjoy the more narrative stuff.

Arden: Yeah, I love hearing a story.

Morty: Some of your work focuses on disability. Can you talk to me about that?

Arden: I write from the perspective of a bi-polar person. This has connected me to other kinds of disability and crip communities. I also tend to have crip lovers and write about relationships so disability appears in that approach as well. Recently, I’ve been focusing on formal poetry (sonnets and sestinas mostly) about disability. There is an appealing connection there between human form and poetic form. Some of my poems are explicitly about disability but even the ones that are not are filtered through my experiences of disability. It works the same way with gender and sexuality in my work as well.

Morty: Right, which brings us to some of my questions about gender.

Arden: Dun dun dun!

Morty: Ha ha! Yes! First, how do you identify regarding gender?

Arden: I primarily identify as “genderqueer.” I also use “transgender.” Sometimes to keep it simple (or try to) I use “FTM” but then I get really caught up in qualifying. I also identify as a femme. In terms of pronouns, I prefer “ze” and “hir” but function primarily with “he” and “him.” Pronouns stress me out a little when I’m writing my bio.

Morty: When did you begin to identify as such?

Arden: I had the ideas as a kid and started finding words in college.

Morty: Since this is a magazine about gender variant and trans artists/writers I always ask “Do you identify as a “genderqueer writer”? Or “trans writer”? Or does that feel way too limiting?

Arden: It doesn’t feel limiting. Gender is an important part of what I write about and also a huge piece of myself as a writer. I’ve been heavily influenced by strong women writers which I think is a direct result of having been raised as a girl. My 9’th grade English teacher called me her little Sylvia (Plath).  I’ve cheered up some. I think being trans has also helped expose me to the work of trans poets like Ely Shipley, Stacey Waite, and Trish Salah. I don’t think being a trans or a genderqueer poet means that my work is not relevant to cispeople or to the larger communities of writing.

Morty: Have you found a trans/queer poetry community?

Arden: I’m a little isolated out here in Nebraska but I’m still connected to a writing community in Boston. When I lived there Toni Amato, who runs Write Here Write Now, played a large role in connecting me and other writers to community as well as connecting writers to their craft. Google and Facebook are good starts for finding trans poets and also asking other trans poets who they are reading. Often times the people listening to and reading poetry are also writing.

Morty: Regarding building community - how would you recommend artists and writers start that process? I’m curious as to how others, including yourself, might help out the newer generation of young trans writers? 

Arden: I don’t think I am part of the older generation.  I haven’t had enough history yet with my own identity and I’m still emerging in terms of publications.  I’m not sure how much has to do with age.  I’m 32 but am frequently read as a high school student despite the smattering of grey in my hair (thanks grad school). I am pretty familiar with the application process in terms of graduate programs in writing.  This can be particular daunting for young writers (I think especially genderqueer and trans writers) because of all the little boxes and past history complications.  The fact that I went to a women’s college used to make me very nervous in terms of applications and resumes but it has been ok.  I’m much better qualified to talk about entering academia than how to promote a novel.

Personally, I turn to writers who have published books, or who have taught writing, for advice.  I also point younger writers to writing contests and relevant journals. Facebook has been really useful in connecting with all sorts of folks.  People can post and re-post calls for submissions which, I think, has increased the amount of exposure trans and genderqueer work receives.

Going to writing events like conferences and readings is also helpful.  Some of them are more costly than others. If a person has a couch in a city where there is a writing conference then perhaps someone can offer that sleep space to a young writer, who might find their path to attending the conference a little easier. We all have things we want or need and we all have things we can do or give.  Money is not the only thing of value.  More seasoned writers can read the work of emerging writers and offer feedback. Younger writers have an incredible amount of enthusiasm and immediacy so the benefits of an established writer working with an emerging one are not one sided.  

I also recommend that writers selling chapbooks and such to set aside a certain amount of books to be given to writers who otherwise would not be able to get them.  

Morty: I want to go back to asking you about your work. What prompted the foray into erotic stories?

Arden: I had a really positive experience reading an erotic piece in a writing workshop. I sent it out, it got accepted, and I’ve been writing erotica ever since. I actually really like to read it out loud too. I’m more unselfconscious reading my erotica than my poetry out loud. I’m more of a page poet than a stage poet

Morty: What is your piece about in the trans/genderqueer erotica book Take Me There?

Arden: It’s about a boy who first appeared to me in a poem. Ze is “out on loan” to a femme mistress. It’s hot and it has a bit of tenderness to it too.

Morty: Hmm, based on someone real?

Arden: Bits and pieces… Most of my poems as well as my erotica stories are in the first person. This can be sort of funny depending on what kind of literary voice I’m using.

Morty: You’ve published a lot of your work in literary magazines and you are one of the poetry editors of the journal Breath and Shadow. What advice would you give for those looking to publish their work?

Arden: Writing can be a really private, sometimes isolating practice. I’d advise writers to find other writers to share work with. Being a part of writing groups has helped me get my work to a publishable state. The moral support is a big plus too because there are going to be many rejection letters. Just keep trying and be smart about where the work is being sent. Pay attention to what writers or what style of writing is being published by a magazine to see if your writing would be a good fit. Calls for submissions can be a great way to find magazines and anthologies that are looking for work on specific subjects. Also, for writers who are more established, help the newer folks out by building connections and community.

Morty: Wonderful, those are great ideas.How did it come about that you became a Lambda Literary Fellow?

Arden: I believe Charles Flowers told me about the program at an AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs) conference but it might have also been at the Saint’s and Sinners writing conference down in New Orleans.  I applied, got in, and had amazing support from Lambda and people in the community.  I really enjoyed the people I met there and the time to focus on writing in such a queer environment.  At some point I’d like to go back for fiction or creative non-fiction.

Morty: It seems the main advice to give to queer and trans writers reading this is: apply and submit, you may just get in! What do you have planned for yourself in the coming year other than being in school?

Arden: Hehe, so I won’t say homework! Well, I need to send out more work. I also need to read more.

Morty: Anything else?

Arden: Well, I need to go running too!

Morty: Yeah, I have exercise in my to do list, too…

Arden: I have an essay I’ve been picking at for awhile now and I’d really like to place it somewhere. I need to follow the advice I gave and send out work because that’s a crucial step in the publishing.  In about a week I’m headed down to Louisiana where I grew up.  I’ve been writing more about race and identity especially in regards to family and adoption.  I might pull a “ding dong you’ve got my chromosomes” approach to meeting my biological family.  It should be a pretty intense trip but I’ll take notes and I’m sure that whatever comes out of it will appear in my writing.  Sometimes knowing that something scary will prove useful to my writing helps me get past my fear.

To read work and find out more about Arden Eli Hill please visit the following links: 

No Name Reading Series Podcast - Arden comes in at the end of minute 13. 

Wordgathering.com

Breath and Shadow - Journal of Disability Culture and Lit

Willow Springs Literary Journal

Take Me There - Book of Trans and Genderqueer Erotica 

When did you decide that you would go for it and enter higher education for writing/publishing?

I was a self-taught writer, just making it up as I went, and for several years I had this vague desire to go back to school and get a Masters degree. But like a lot of things in my life prior to transition, I had a hard time making concrete decisions and figuring out how to make it happen. From 2007 to 2010 I worked primarily as program coordinator for a state-wide queer/ straight ally youth leadership program through an experiential education/outdoor learning center, and I was mentoring young people to be empowered in their lives, families, and schools. Sometimes I wondered what the hell I had to offer young people, because I certainly didn’t feel like I had it all figured out for myself. But there’s sometimes this weird magic in helping other people, you often inadvertently help yourself. My time at that job really helped me evolve, and was in fact a very healing experience. Whether I was working with the LGBTQ youth, or juvenile offenders in lock-up, or addicted adults, I was constantly in the presence of people confronting their shit and trying to overcome it. It was the least I could do to try to overcome my fear of being successful in my writing and art. I was writing letters of recommendation for my friends to go to grad school, writing letters for the youth that I worked with for college, jobs, scholarships. I realized it was time for me to step up to the proverbial plate. 

I was accepted into the Portland State University Master’s in Writing/ Book Publishing program in 2010, and I am almost done with the program. I saw school as a container, taking on a financial burden that signified that I was spending this time focusing on my writing. And it has paid off. I didn’t know how I would carve out the space in my life to focus in this way without school. The book publishing program has been amazing. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in working in any aspect of publishing, or in becoming a more published writer. I have made some really amazing friends and connections through the program, and feel pretty solid in understanding publishing as an industry. Also, the program is very much up to speed with all of the rapidly emerging changes in publishing. I will begin the MFA in Creative Writing – Nonfiction, also at PSU, in Fall 2012. Being in school as an older person is a hoot. It is so much easier than crawling around on my hands and knees welding structures for ten hours a day.

 A lot of your writing comes from your history and much of it has nothing to do with being trans. Where do you find yourself writing from lately? What point of view?

Currently I am working on a book about my early twenties, It primarily takes place in Provincetown, but there’s a bit of Boston and San Francisco in there, too. It is really about another world. This is in the late 1980s - early 1990s. Back then I was critiqued by young Smith College lesbians for being “too butch,” or even “such a man” once when I was carrying a 50lb box of potatoes into a restaurant kitchen where I worked as a chef. People in my community were dying left and right of AIDS. I was newly out as queer and there was still an outlaw status attached to that, which I actually loved. I was working my way through art school in Boston, figuring out my sexuality, and dealing with the death of my younger brother, who was murdered. And the parts of the book about San Francisco, though minimal, are about a city that doesn’t exist anymore. It was pre-dot com, pre-AIDS drug cocktails that kept people from dropping like flies.  It isn’t specifically about my trans identity, because it was before I even had words for it, or real awareness of transitioning as an option for myself, but of course those threads are there. All I knew was that I felt like I should have been male, but I tried to reconcile myself back then to the idea that this was the hand I’d been dealt. I had no idea in 1990 that there was anything I could have done about my gender distress.

It’s interesting to write about that time, trying to stay true to that innocence about gender and life. Especially when we workshopped one of my chapters in class this term, which talks about my life “before.” I recently had to add a little disclaimer, coming out to my classmates, so they wouldn’t be totally confused. They probably were confused anyway, but very gracious about it all. It would be easy to rewrite my past to some extent as if I had a solid awareness of being trans back then, but that would be a gross over-simplification. I would rather hang with the uncomfortable truths of my experiences around gender back then and I hope that it will resonate with other people. Despite trans issues being so widely visible in recent years, it still feels like the hugest A-Ha! moment to anyone who realizes that about themselves, and it is each persons’ individual, unique experience.

I also write a lot about work. I have worked tons of different jobs, mostly blue-collar, physical labor jobs, and as someone who is always observing and studying gender, in particular masculinity, my jobs have always been a rich microcosm in which to explore these dynamics. Also, since I’ve always felt it was my true work to make art and write, I’ve had a certain detachment to most of my jobs, deep down I knew I was just there, passing through for a paycheck, and the adventure. The exception to this is of course the job I mentioned above, working with queer youth and other disenfranchised folks. Most of my jobs have been an adventure. We spend an enormous amount of our lives at work, and yet so few people explore that. I love exploring work in my writing. Naturally, being trans comes up in my writing about work, but it is not always the most significant dynamic I am writing about.

What does it take for you to sit down and write? What are some of your tricks to get yourself to write with intention? 

I have been working really hard at creating a consistent writing practice. It is so easy to get distracted by everything else. I have an office space now, where I can go work. My housemates understand that when I am in there, I am in the fortress of solitude and quiet. I feel lucky to have a dedicated work space. Sometimes I work in a cafe, to get out of the house and away from distractions. Mostly, I schedule office hours and try to stick to them as closely as possible. I have to not be on-line, unless I am doing some research, and I have to leave my phone elsewhere in the house. I spend part of my office hours each week applying to things and submitting work. Like anything, it is a habit that one can develop, and if you mess up, you just need to get back on it the next week. It’s like working out. If I miss a regular workout, I just have to get back on track next week, not sit around and mope and throw everything I’ve worked for out the window. I saw the amazing photographer, Cathie Opie, give a talk at the Portland Art Museum last year. She talked about “persistent practice” when it came to making art and it seems so simple but it hit me like a lightning bolt. I knew then that it was what had been missing for me, and I committed to figure it out for myself. Two days after her talk I got the words tattooed on my wrists as a constant reminder. I also wrote it down on a piece of paper and put it on my altar. 

Deadlines are a big motivator for me. There’s that saying that diamonds are created under pressure. Not everyone works that way, but I find that deadlines give me someone else to answer to, I am not just writing to hide it in a box under my bed. It engages me in a dialogue, and challenges me to push myself on a topic, a word limit, a time-frame, and encourages me to keep trying to get my work out there. I keep a list of things I want to submit to, and projects I want to work on. There was a saying I heard while working as a union stagehand that work will expand to fit the time allowed. It is so true. If I have what feels like tons of time, I am like Moses meandering through the desert. If I have a firm deadline, I can hone in and focus. I am pretty ADD, and it takes a ton of energy for me to focus sometimes. I just keep working at it. When I was a Lambda Literary Foundation Fellow last summer, one of our instructors, Ellery Washington, spoke about how you can train your brain. He started to get up very early every morning at the same time and write. He insists that you can train your brain to work like this. I am a total bear in the early morning hours, a grumbling, confused bear, so writing at five in the morning is probably an unachievable goal. But writing at least five times a week around my school schedule is an achievable goal. You have to set yourself up for success. I think it’s all about creating a habit. A good habit.

Is it hard to write about your life experiences and put trans somewhere in there? 

I write about human experiences from the perspective of someone who happens to be trans. My life experiences and my trans experiences are kind of inextricable, but I really try to avoid being “educational”. I think if you just write about your own truths and experiences, people will learn a lot more than if you try to insert Trans 101 into every story you write. That being said, I do think education and Trans 101 are very important, and I have given tons of those trainings and workshops to non-trans people. I just don’t think my creative work needs to be a Powerpoint presentation. In a class last Fall, I wrote a piece about working a construction site and my co-worker asking me about my trans identity. Suddenly, I stopped being “in” my story, and started worrying that nobody in my workshop would have a clue what the hell was going on. Nobody in the class except one friend knew I was trans. So, my writing shifted gears with them as my audience, and I suddenly lapsed into Trans 101, like I was clicking through the Powerpoint. When we workshopped my piece, the response was amazing. The instructor and the fifteen other people in the class really disliked the “educational” stuff, which I had really written for them. Nobody cared or was confused or upset that I was trans, they cared about how I fucked up a perfectly compelling story by inserting a public service announcement in the middle of it. My instructor, Tom Bissell, marked that section of my piece: “Don’t educate us. Surprise and delight us.” It was a huge gift to have that experience. 

It is only hard to write about my trans experience when I feel like there is a requirement to announce blatantly “Hey look at me, I am trans!” somewhere in there. Sometimes that is necessary, but whenever I am writing about my life, I am writing from a trans experience, so I dislike a requirement to have to make it hammer-you-over-the-head obvious. Sometimes I want that to be the loudest instrument in the band, other times it is more about all of my experiences and identities playing seamlessly together like an orchestra.

Have you found grad school to be fulfilling in the way you thought it would be?

Yes. Grad school was a container for me, as I said already, to take my writing seriously. I have had amazing instructors and feedback from my fellow students. As a self-taught writer, I felt totally intimidated, but I feel like my writing has improved so much due to the whole package: time to work on it consistently, feedback, instruction, understanding what makes great stories work. I have developed an incredible network here. School has helped me become much more disciplined about my work. And like most things in life, it is all about the people, the people I have met through school are from all walks of life and experience, and it feeds my writing to stand in the warm breeze of their brilliance.

Do you ever call yourself a “trans writer”?

Yes, on occasion I do. It just depends, I guess it is mostly intuitive. It is important to me to be visible as a transman. I always came out to the queer and straight ally kids that I worked with, and I told them, it’s not because that information is so amazing. It is because when I was in high school I had no idea that people like me even existed. I just wanted them to know we exist, in case any of them ever felt like I did. What is most important to me in my work is that I speak to a human experience that people, trans or not, will find literary worth, creativity, and meaning in. I want to become a writer whose writing is read because it is good, and who also happens to be trans.

Bio: Cooper Lee Bombardier is a visual artist, writer, illustrator, and performer from the South Shore of Boston. He was a Lambda Literary Foundation Fiction Fellow in 2011. He has been a construction worker, a cook, a carpenter, a stagehand, a welder, a dishwasher, a truckdriver, and a housepainter, among other things; now he is busy being a grad student. His visual art has most recently appeared in group shows like Meow Wolf in Santa Fe, NM; the 2011 National Queer Arts Festival in San Francisco, and Helltown Workshop in Provincetown, MA. Cooper’s writing has appeared in many periodicals, most recently Cavalcade Literary Journal, Unshod Quills, Faggot Dinosaur, Pathos Literary Journal, andOriginal Plumbing; and the anthologies The Lowdown Highway; From the Inside Out, and Trans/Love. A veteran of the original Sister Spit tours, he has performed his writing all over the country. He currently lives in Portland, Oregon.

Morty: When did you start your career as a writer and what got you interested in writing? 

Jody: I was never interested in writing until my senior year in college.  I was a Political Science/Women’s Studies major and I saved all of my electives for my last semester. I was taking two creative writing classes and something just clicked.  Before I knew it, I had made up my mind to apply to graduate schools in English.  Seven years later, I had my MA in English and my MFA in Creative Writing and I’ve been teaching writing and English classes ever since.  

Morty: Do you consider yourself a “trans writer” or does that feel too limiting? Does it bother you when people discuss your work and call you a “trans writer”?

Jody: I don’t really care about labels. Sure, we need them, and sure they make us feel safe and in control, but what really matters is how the work affects the reader. What does it make the reader think about?  What does it make the reader feel?  What does it make the reader see about herself/himself?  I really try not to get caught up in labels, because they’re constructs.  

Morty: What is your idea of success when it comes to your writing?

Jody: I used to have a very different idea of what being a successful writer was when I was younger.  I thought I had to get published in order to be successful, so I sent my work out all the time and thought I was successful because I was getting published.  But a funny thing happened while I sent my work out.  I chose poems and stories that “fit” the publication’s message and audience, and something didn’t feel right about this. I placed in a finalist round of a very difficult contest to place in (there were over 2000 entries for this book publication contest) and didn’t win because of the subject matter of my book. The letter from the writing contest said it was between my manuscript and one other manuscript, and that mine wasn’t chosen because their readers weren’t ready for a voice like mine (meaning a trans voice). I decided right then and there to self-publish my book and 6 months later, I did.  After that, I stopped sending my work out unless I really felt the energy of the magazine.  Right now, success to me means being true to my art and being honest with myself when I write. Not fearing reactions or tailoring a piece to fit into a prestigious publication. Writing for myself and not for anyone else.

Morty: You have been published in many publications; can you give the readers some pointers on how to get published?

Jody: Well, if you choose to stay true to your art and to yourself then keep submitting and don’t ever take rejection letters personally. Usually, you have no idea why a place didn’t accept your work. It could be any number of reasons and there’s no use in trying to figure it out. Everybody has their own opinion, there are political, economic, and social agendas to contend with, too. If you get handwritten comments, that’s a good sign to continue submitting your work, although we’re moving more and more to electronic submissions now, so if you get any comments at all, keep submitting.  Also, I would highly recommend reading the publication first to get a feel for their work, for their mission, and to see if you even want to be part of their publication.  And of course, follow all the guidelines and proofread your work very carefully.  

Morty: This is a somewhat strange question, but I’m curious if being trans has affected your career as a writing instructor at all? 

Jody: You know, I don’t think about it that much.  I don’t really care.  Here’s something funny.  When I first started teaching, I was hired to teach on a marine base looking like the biggest bull dyke lesbian you’ve ever seen. And, I was hired by a nun!   Eventually, I took a leave of absence and went on hormones and got my breasts removed.  I came back to the same school as “Mr.” and nobody cared.  I even had repeat students.  I’ve never made a big deal about who I am or apologized about who I am. For me, it’s a matter of fact thing, and I’ve slipped it into sentences before, like it’s common knowledge: “Oh, and I also changed my gender…” to people who don’t know yet, but who I want to tell.  As far as teaching goes, well, I’ve been known to show Hedwig and The Angry Inch to my students, and that’s about finding yourself, and misplaced identity due to circumstances beyond your control— and, coming full circle, which is a beautiful, beautiful thing!

Morty: You utilize the technology of ebooks to sell your work. Can you tell me how this model has been successful for you? 

Jody: I write ebooks because they’re easily accessible, save paper, and can be sent worldwide.  There’s nothing to store and I send everything personally.  I’ve emailed my ebooks to many countries including Australia, France, England, Ireland, South Africa, Sweden, Poland, and all across the United States.  If someone sends me an email saying he/she can’t afford to buy it, I email it for free. For me, ebooks give me complete freedom.  I choose to give what I want away.  I can send them anywhere.  I have 100% creative control.  And there are no shipping costs. Also, they’re easy to share. I don’t mind if people share my work— I’m not attached to it.  My goal has always been to teach and share and give.  This is what I’m supposed to do— this is my life’s purpose and ebooks make this so much easier.  They were the perfect solution for my monthly money for surgery giveaways, too because of the reasons mentioned above.

Morty: I have read your book of poetry Places Male and Female, and thoroughly enjoyed it! Many, if not all, of the poems in this book are about being trans which leads me to ask how much does being trans affect your work? 

Jody: My book Places Male and Female took me over 10 years to write. I must have written over 200 possible poems for that book and chose about 60 to include in it. After finishing this book, I felt a deep sense of relief because I wrote about my transition from many different angles.  I remember this one poem I wrote about
my dick— it was terrible!  The word choice was weak, the metaphors clashed, and the poem made absolutely no sense— even to me!  But it was necessary to get out my feelings about not having a genetic dick on paper.  So, in the beginning, being trans really affected my work.  From there I moved on and wrote poems based on photos that were hidden during World War II by Jewish Freedom Fighters. I took the focus off myself, but there are still elements of what’s perceived as “alternative lifestyles” hidden in some of my poetry. One photo that is particularly haunting shows two boys standing near a pond. One has very feminine energy, so I imagined both boys swimming together, desiring each other but still talking about the girls they pretended to like.  The last lines of the poem read: “and finally, his friend’s arms around his waist,/ his lips on his ear; /then, the unbearable lightness of their bodies, /as they sink further and further down into the water.”  This poem isn’t about being trans; this is about sexuality, and the different desires we have regardless of gender. This relates to my experience as being someone who’s changed and immersed still, in the gay, lesbian, bi, trans. communities. 

Morty: Can you tell me about your new book But How Did They Live? 

Jody: This book is based on a book of photographs called The Last Album that my friend Ann Weiss published.  This is from the inner jacket of her book: ”These photographs were not supposed to be seen… In October of 1986 ….Ann Weiss entered a locked room at Auschwitz and came across an archive of over 2,400 photographs brought to the camp by Jewish deportees…The photos, both candid snapshots and studied portraits, had been confiscated but,
instead of being destroyed, they were hidden at great risk, and saved.  In many cases, these pictures are the only remnants left of entire families.” I found this book at Barnes and Noble and in the store as I was reading it, I was inspired to write a book of poems called But How Did They Live?, that focused on living.  This is a subject that’s very close to my heart because I’m Jewish, and many of my relatives either escaped or were murdered during this time.  I wrote some poems and then contacted Ann, who I brought to Hawaii to speak to my students. I’m still writing this book and I have no idea when it will be finished.  The photos are haunting and I’ll just stare and stare at one until I get an inspiration. And then the poem begins.

Morty: You also wrote a book called The FTM Sex Guide. What was the impetus to write this book? 

Jody: I was looking for a book about sex for FTM guys and found a bunch of nonsense written by non-FTM people.  I remember answering questions in the 90’s given to me by my psychologist about sex: “Do I like women or men?”  “What do I think about when I masturbate?”, “Will I get the bottom surgery so I can have a penis?”, “How will I use my penis?” In those days, they wanted to make sure you were straight before giving you a letter. I must have answered over 200 questions!  I still remember sitting there with my pencil, circling the answers.  Luckily, I had been corresponding with some guys in SF through letters, yes actual letters, who warned me about this!  Anyway, it was back then that I had the idea to talk about sex openly in relation to our community. Then, many, many years later I was in the shower and this voice said: “Write The FTM Sex Guide, and give money away from the proceeds to help guys with their surgery funds.” So I did it. 

Morty: I’m very interested in how you’ve begun to give money away from the sales of your work to trans folks in need. Why did you begin doing this?

Jody: Well, as I said earlier, it was an inspiration I had in the shower.  It started two years ago when I gave $500 away to a guy from the sales of The FTM Sex Guide.  That giveaway was a drawing.  I’m on a mission now to do this regularly. I’m calling surgeons to see if they want to give surgery credits, too.  I’m also calling all of the people I know in the community who are in a position to donate money to help with this cause.  If anyone reading this interview wants to help with either donating their time or donating funds, please contact me at jhrose22@hotmail.com.

Morty: What are the guidelines to get funds from you?

The guidelines change monthly.  This month you must have your surgeon chosen and be $500 away from your surgery goal. My idea here is to pay the surgeon directly.  Next month, I’m going to do a simple drawing out of a hat in front of a notary at the bank.  May’s guidelines will, more than likely, come to me either in the shower, in a dream or during a meditation.  

Morty: Do you plan on doing these giveaways for a long time or is this a limited time?

There’s no end date in site.  My website has all of the information: www.theftmsexguide.com. If you qualify, please enter.  And please spread the word, too.  I’m a one-man show right now and any help is greatly appreciated.  Thank you!

Morty: Wonderful! 

Please visit Jody’s website at: http://www.jodyrosehelfand.com

By Wyatt Riot 

I thought I was going to piss my self by the time I landed in the airport. As soon as the fasten seat belt sign came on my bladder let me know how full it was. I’m not sure why my bladder couldn’t hold it just a little bit longer. It was almost as if my teeth were floating in my skull. I— was about to explode. If I could have any super power in the world it would be to have a bladder made of steel. No doubt about it.

Sitting in the middle of the plane with an isle seat, watching each person in front of me grab their belongings from the overhead bin and under their seats in anticipation of exiting the plane. Time had slowed down for everyone and I was on full speed. As people slowly left their rows I waited eagerly, standing with my legs crossed while I waited for my turn to exit; my turn to rush out of the plane and into the restroom.

Saying my thank yous to the flight attendants as I exited the plane, I could feel my heart beating faster and the sweat start to slowly drip from my temple. I’m sure I looked like I was going to puke, I was so anxious. It felt like my heart was about to beat out of my chest and onto the floor. With each little step I could feel my bladder start to expand, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait.  

I hustled my way past little shops selling over priced snacks and drinks. I saw flustered parents with their children and very serious business people doing seemingly very serious business. I had my own serious business to do. People were running into me left and right, with each tap it felt like a blow to my bladder. Just a little bit longer, that’s all I needed. With how large airports are, you’d think they would have restrooms at every corner. I’d been walking for what seemed like miles. Don’t they know how important it is to pee? 

In the not-so-far distance I saw a glowing sign. In eager anticipation I was hoping it was — yes, it was! RESTROOMS! Oh, the beautiful site of a public restroom. On the other side of that door, sweet relief would be mine.

Suddenly, panic set in. I looked at both restrooms. My eyes going back and forth between the two like the eyes on a tiger hunting their prey. I watched each person enter and exit the restrooms. How did they know where they were supposed to go? Did they use the restroom that matched the gender on their ID? How did they know where they belonged? 

I stood there watching for what seemed like hours, holding my bags which were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. What am I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to go pee. 

I’ve never understood gendered spaces. I know what my ID says and I know how I feel about my own gender. But that doesn’t always mean the people in the restroom agree. I’ve had my share of being yelled at. It doesn’t feel very good to have children point and stare at you as if you’re a big scary monster. It’s embarrassing to feel threatened by something so simple as the restroom, but it’s really not that simple at all. It would be so much easier if people would respect me when I’m in the restroom. I promise I’m not trying to enter the “wrong” restroom, I’m just trying to pee and not get harassed in the process.

My bladder was feeling worse. I didn’t think it could feel this full. Watching people choose one restroom or the other with what seemed like ease had me feeling envious. Why couldn’t I have traveled with a friend? It’s always easier going to the restroom with someone. Safety in numbers I always say. I’m not sure why my gender threatens people, but the last thing I want is to get yelled at, accosted or worse.  I’ve had my fill of being called slurs. I’ve been called a faggot, dyke, he-she, what the hell are you and more — what people don’t understand is I’m just a person. A person with very basic needs.

I understand my gender. It’s something I’ve thought and fretted about for years, so I know who I am — as much as any person can. For some reason the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand my gender and they can’t let that go. I don’t really care if people understand me, I just wish others would respect me like I respect them. This doesn’t help me in this moment though. My bladder, it’s still aching.

Standing there just trying to hold on for another minute, people continued rushing past me while saying their usual “excuse me sir” or “excuse me ma’am.” What was I supposed to do? I contemplated pissing my pants, which at twenty seven years old is a little embarrassing. 

As tears started to well up in my eyes from frustration I looked over to my left. I couldn’t believe it. How did I not see this before? The most magical place on earth was only a few feet away from me. I really had won the jackpot this time. I ran as fast as I could to the giant sign that read GENDER NEUTRAL RESTROOM. After I was inside I threw my bags onto the ground and locked the door behind me. What a relief.

If only everywhere I went had these, then I could pee in peace. Is that too much to ask for? It seems like a simple request to me.  

Bio:  wyatt riot is a fat, queer, femme, trans, faggot living and  loving in portland, oregon. he is the host and co-creator of put it in your mouth with wyatt riot (www.putitinyourmouthwithwyattriot.com), a web series that documents his love of food and camp. you can find him out in the world blushing and making it happen or often at the library, sipping tea and doing his homework.

Morty Diamond: Hey Max! Alright, first question. Do you date women primarily?

Max Valerio: Only women.

MD: And you always have?

MV: Yes, however, I did try guys out as a teenager. There was certainly more pressure to be heterosexual when I was growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, and I succumbed to that. However, I am also the type of person who likes to experiment and push my own envelope of comfort. It was important to me to experience many different things, to have varied sexual experiences, and to really explore my sexuality. I saw sexuality as a kind of jumping off place for the exploration of consciousness, of self and other. I still do. But no, guys never did it for me, I have always loved women.

MD: So would you use the term heterosexual to describe yourself?

MV: Oh yeah, yeah I’m heterosexual.

MD: And you don’t have any issues with that word?

MV: No, not at all. “Heterosexual” describes me very well. I am very attracted to
women and I enjoy the sensation of being a man with a woman. I like that contrast
between bodies and enjoy the male/female dynamic in sexual situations. Of course,
being a man with women is fraught with sexual politics, but on a primal level, I find it very erotically compelling and — it makes me feel complete. Which isn’t to say that I don’t realize that I am different from other heterosexual men, because I am transsexual. I guess this difference is a type of queerness, or at least,
another way of being pretty damn weird. I cherish that. I cherish the fact that I am at odds with the world while also being completely ordinary in a sense. As an artist, this experience, where I am in a continual state of paradox, enables me to develop compassion and empathy, as well as to extend my thinking and imagination. I think in that sense, it is a gift.

MD: So you date mostly straight women?

MV: Yes, I have dated mostly straight women up until the relatively recent past. I
actually really do like heterosexual women, speaking generally. I like women who are attracted to male energy, to men. Now, what is interesting to me is that in the last few years there have suddenly been all these femmes who are interested in trans men. This is new. My last girlfriend was a femme dyke, very lesbian identified. I was her first man; we met after I had been transitioned for 14 years and so I was way past my beginning phase and very integrated into the world as a man. I was very physically male. She had never kissed anyone with facial hair before and screamed the first time I kissed her! She said the whole experience was very alien to her and scary. My body was harder, I smelled different.

MD: So you’ve seen a new avenue open for you with femmes in your community?

MV: Yes. I started transitioning in 1989, I had just turned 32, and it was very different then. There was only one support group, FTM organized by Lou Sullivan, and there were only a couple of books that I knew of. There was so little information out there. Transition really did feel like making a stab in the dark, it was a bizarre crazy thing to be doing. I was basically turning myself into a bizarre alien life form, a circus freak or something. Anyway, back then there were no so-called “tranny chasers” — at least for trans men. I had never heard of such a thing. Well, now there are and I think women who are comfortable or friendly with the idea of transsexuality is a good thing! But, I would never limit myself to “tranny chasers” or queer women –never have, never will. The world is filled with women after all.

MD: Yes, have you encountered any particular issues that come up with dating straight women ?

MV: I’ve never really had a problem. In the beginning of transition, I was filled with
trepidation. I think that many heterosexual women, if they were asked whether or not they would date a transsexual, would reject the idea. As a theoretical possibility, it is not attractive or may just seem bizarre. But, once a woman meets me, and experiences me first as a man and a real person, if we have an attraction and a rapport, she usually gets over that. This has been my experience at least, and maybe I have been lucky. However, I believe in the optimistic approach, it is always better to try and approach women and relationships with confidence.
Of course, I choose women who are more likely to be open to the idea of dating a transman. I’ve dated creative, entrepreneurial women, women in the post punk rock scene, artists, women who were a bit off the beaten path – independent thinkers. I am not trying to date women who are Evangelical Christians or extremely socially conservative. Also, there are a whole lot of heterosexual women out there, and it is really hard to generalize about such a huge group of people. I think that since trans men want others to have an open mind, it is imperative that we do as well. I find that relationships with femmes and relationships with heterosexual women present different, if equally daunting challenges. I was never worried in my relationship with a femme whether or not she would reject me because I was trans. I worried she would reject me because I was a man. The trans part was what made me an acceptable man. And with the straight women I never worried that I would be rejected because I am a man, but that being a transsexual might erode our relationship in some way, over time. Heterosexual women were very comfortable with my male identity, it was “home” to
them. But the fact that I was a trans man was what both intrigued and challenged them. So, there is no one group of people that is going to make us feel comfortable all the time. I think relationships present unique challenges for trans men, and there is no easy way out of that. You just have to relate to each situation and person individually and hope for the best.However, usually when straight women find out, they tend to be intrigued. I mean, it never turned anyone off entirely. The fact that I was trans would always add another dimension to me in their mind.

MD: A dimension you appreciated, you liked? It sounds a little exoticizing…

MV: Well, I would rather that reaction, that they were intrigued and encouraged than the opposite — thinking that being trans makes me less desirable. And certainly, I actually am different from non-trans men. What that difference means however is debatable. I mean, both femmes and het women often think that my difference, my “transness” is intriguing. Femmes feel more comfortable with me because I am a trans man, it kind of gives them “permission” to be with me, with a man. Heterosexual women may feel that I am special or unique in some way that they wish to understand. The most problematic thing about these expectations is that I may be expected to be more sensitive, magical or to fulfill some type of longing for a transcendent male being. I mean, I really am simply a man, even if I am different. Both types of women have something valuable to offer, and finally – it is really about individual chemistry and not simply what a woman’s sexual orientation or history is. And, I’ve found that I can fit into either the straight or queer world; I am always an individual, myself, in each context. Actually, the difficulty that straight women generally have is that they don’t know what
to tell their friends and family about my transsexuality. And, since they have never had an experience of being queer, being with someone who is transsexual is challenging and scary in terms of their own social acceptance. Again, as for being exoticized, well — I’ve been transitioned over 19 years now, so a part of me doesn’t even care one way or another. I’ve been through so much, in a way, that being pursued by “tranny chasers” does not bother me. I mean, like most men, the idea of being “objectified” is not at the top of my list of worries. How many straight guys or even gay men complain about this? I see it this way; some women like musicians, some women are drawn to athletes or wealthy men. Others like men with a certain build, men with a particular style or men of a certain class or ethnicity. Attractions are attractions and frankly, desire is not politically
correct. I have my own preferences, and find certain women more appealing for various reasons. Some of these reasons I am fully conscious of, and others are hidden just beneath the edges of my awareness. So, if a woman is intrigued by the fact that I am a transsexual, I don’t think that is necessarily a negative thing. Of course, there has to be a lot more than that between us, but certainly it can be a catalyst, much like my being a writer can be a catalyst. Some women are drawn to writers also you know!

MD: There are so many levels…how do we negotiate this. You want to be seen as male and not as a transguy so…

MV: Yes, I want to be seen as a man ultimately, but really a trans man is a kind of man. There does not have to be a contradiction. This is very important for trans men to really understand and integrate into our deepest beliefs about who we are.
Of course, I get insecure like any trans guy. It is easy to be insecure since we are perched in a position of insecurity since we have crossed from femaleness to maleness. We inhabit a place of some ambiguity and complexity. Even so, I’ve found that one must be secure in oneself first and foremost. You can’t rely
on reassurance from the rest of the world, or from your partner. Your manhood should not be something one negotiates, but something one knows.
That said, I do think that it can be difficult when a trans man is with a person who is very invested in our trans identity. From my experience, this appears to be more of an issue with femme women than with heterosexual women. Femme women who date trans men often state that they will only date trans men, they will not date genetic (non-trans) men. This appears strange to me since these same women may not even be able to tell the difference between any given trans man and a non-trans man. I am not entirely comfortable with this assertion, yet I know that for many femmes, this distinction between trans and non-trans men is a crucial one. As long as they are dating a man who is trans, they feel they can still maintain their identity as queer. While this feels problematic, I also respect their right to make that distinction for themselves. Regardless of my own trepidations about this preference, I do respect it. I mean, these femmes have their preferences, just as I have mine. However, when a woman expects somehow that I am extremely different from non-trans men, I do think that over time, that she might be in for some surprises.

MD: What would catch them by surprise?

MV: That’s a good question because all of this is so amorphous. People have such
varying experiences and perceptions and it is difficult to capture the essence of these. I’ve heard it all. I’ve been with straight women who have told me “you’re the most masculine man I’ve ever been with” and that I am some sort of apex of maleness. Now, I don’t actually believe this about myself. I just think that when people are in love they’re crazy! So people say many things at different times.
Sooner or later, however, in my experience women do realize that they are with a genuine “real” man who is not necessarily as different from non-trans men as they may have imagined. Or, the perception of that difference from non-trans men is fleeting, it is intangible and difficult to grasp as solid or quantifiable.

MD: Are you single right now?

MV: Yeah.

MD: So tell me how you traverse this San Francisco dating scene. Depending on which community you’re in at different moments, like a party or social gathering and how people see you.

MV: Well, I am just myself, and I trust fate, what else can you do?

MD: Do you out yourself quickly to a woman who has no idea you’re trans?

MV: I generally wait until I am sure there is a genuine interest and that it is worth
pursing. Which slows down everything. I’ll have to see her a few times and make sure I like her before I say anything. I want her to get an impression of me first, I think its really important that she gets an impression of me before I break the news. This cuts down on the one night stands, at least with straight women! That’s gone! But with the femmes you can definitely relax a little more because they already know. I mean, if I meet them at a place where trans men are expected to be. Sometimes, I still have to tell them, since even then people don’t automatically take me for a trans man –but at least, it is not something entirely unexpected. I can meet those women at a party for queer women and trans people, for example, or through some activity based around the trans community.

MD: Lets segue into talking about your writing and the heresay that goes on. The
preconceived notions about your attitude towards women through your writing.

MV: I know there is a crazy rumor about me that I’m a misogynist! A knuckle dragging anti-woman macho man! Very funny. I guess that’s the rumor… Anti-woman, super macho, misogynist, all of that. It’s insane.

MD: Well, it seems there has been a persona that’s been built around you based on your work, a lot of it, to me, taken out of context.

MV: Yeah, it’s very strange to me. I think it is absurd actually, I have no idea who this person is that people are talking about. That person is not me, it must be someone else. The memoir is very sexual, very heterosexual, and again, completely unapologetic. I celebrate masculinity in the book. The Testosterone Files is unafraid to peer deeply into male desire.

MD: It sounds like the community was against that. A man with your history of being trans… accepting your base male desires.

MV: (Laughs)Well, I guess so. Yeah even the other transguys! Well, not everyone, but there are a few who have made a lot of noise.

MD: Why do you think certain parts of the trans community is so unwilling to accept a transguy who is fully accepting of his heterosexuality?

MV: I am unafraid to explore raw male heterosexual sexuality, a kind that’s very primal, dark. That gets some people very upset. Also, I think there is a lot of misandry, anti-male sentiment in certain parts of the trans community that intersect with certain parts of the feminist dyke world, and since I am
very visible, I’ve become the focus of people’s projections around a certain type of male sexuality in the queer community. Well, that’s because I’m unapologetically putting it out there in the films, the films I’ve made with Monika Truet, particularly the “Max” documentary, but especially in my memoir.

MD: Do you feel like you are one of very few transmen who are vocal about their
heterosexuality?

MV: Yeah. Now I’m seen as somebody who took it all the way to this extreme in terms of expression, and certainly I’m not alone, but I may be the only one who is writing about it quite like this. And I have become the focus of all these fears, and also projections around maleness. And really, ultimately, it’s a rejection of male heterosexuality, a very profound rejection of male heterosexuality. And following that apparent rejection, the quandary for many of us is, if you are a heterosexual trans man, and you stay in the queer community, can you express your
sexuality?

MD: And what about your personal relationships?

MV: Well the women I date and the people who know me, they are shocked. I’ll find some of these rumors about me being a “notorious misogynist” online and show them to people and they just laugh. The women I’ve dated are stunned, my friends are stunned, they don’t know the person these people are talking about, he is a dream image. A close, longtime friend of mine observed, “Oh, its like Crowley. He used to be known as ‘The Evilest Man in the World’.”

MD: You’re perhaps the evilest transsexual man in the world!

MV: Ha! Yes, the “evilest transsexual man in the world!” Mwwwah ha haaaaa!

MD: Lets segue into talking more about your book The Testosterone Files. What’s your feeling about people calling your book misogynist?

MV: Again, I think that’s crazy. It’s a misreading of the book to read it as misogynist. Actually, this is simply an ad hominem attack by people who are challenged by the book. It is a failure of critical thinking and a failure to read the text accurately. I’ve heard through the grapevine a lot of fairly insane claims about the memoir, including the idea that I am somehow encouraging men to rape women. Or, that I excuse rape, or bad male behavior in general. Again, this is a misreading of the book. I really wanted to capture the chaotic experience of transitioning in the first five years. And I wanted to immerse the reader in that experience, which is adolescent and transforming. The Testosterone Files is a provocative book, I’m a provocative writer. However, I am in no way excusing men’s mistreatment of women. On the other hand, I didn’t want to preach. It’s not an activist book, it is a text that demands immersion in experience, and while I reflect on my experience, I do not preach.

MD: You didn’t censor yourself at all?

MV: Right, I wanted it to be very honest. I wanted to show the really raw stuff. The most controversial chapter in the book is “Cock In My Pocket”, where I talk about rape. I wanted to reveal our secrets, trans mens’ secrets. I did not want to deliver a whitewashed and “safe” book. I wanted the reader to question their own experiences and assumptions.

MD: (reading from the book) No wonder guys lose it sometimes, I think. How can they not? In the beginning I think this is a lot. My god, if this is how men feel how come they don’t rape more often? Rape and plunder. Take. (The Testosterone Files – pg. 229)

MV: Well, I wanted to bring the reader into the intensity, the scariness of those feelings.

MD: Scary for you?

MV: For me! The fact that that this thought even came into my mind was terrifying. People misread it and think that it’s a green light. But right after that, I am very clear, I write: “It is wrong to rape. I knew that before; I know that still. Any man who acts out these fantasies or impulses, no matter how strong, is doing a wrong act. An abominable act, and should be punished.” (The Testosterone Files – pg. 229) This is really about the struggle between a moral imperative and a very dark impulse. Of course, I am on the side, as a person, as a writer, of the moral imperative — “it is wrong to rape”, as I write.

MD: But then you say “Even so, I understand now the force of will it can take to keep from running wild with these feelings, the temptation.”(The Testosterone Files – pg. 229)

MV: Understanding something does not mean automatically that one condones it.
Throwing light and subsequently, some clarity on any impulse, any emotion, any act, this is never a negative thing. I guess this is the dark side and as an artist I’m not afraid of the dark side. I think that’s part of my job, to go deeper in my investigation than Oprah would. Of course, I don’t really entirely understand why people rape or murder. Why someone would go through with a dark impulse that is so violent. There has to be a screw loose. However, because I am now more biologically male because of testosterone, I understand more than I did before.

MD: It is exactly what you said, the dark side, because it is not something people want to believe, that testosterone can unlock some of those hidden doors.

MV: Yes, some people don’t even want to believe there is a dark side! I think people make choices, and certainly, some people make the wrong ones, they are bent. Or, certain circumstances come into play and they choose a certain direction. In any event, I am not condoning bad behavior even if I am shining a light on it. Certainly, testosterone does not make anyone automatically into a rapist.

MD: Of course not!

MV: But the sex drive of testosterone definitely can be a catalyst, that heightened
underlying drive to sex that occurs on testosterone can be expressed violently by some men. I mean, obviously rape is something men do and we know that. And so becoming a man I started to understand more about how that could happen. Not that I would actually want to do it, or that I excuse it, but I started understanding how this act might become possible. And that’s all I’m saying.
I have been around trans men who have told me “I’ve had times where if I wasn’t in my house, I am afraid that I would have raped a woman.” That is an intense and scary statement. I never had that experience by the way. Some of this is individual to each person obviously. I mean, every man has a different variation of this experience of testosterone changing his sex drive, and heightening it, each person brings their own sexual preferences into the picture, their own reality testing, their unique ability to empathize with others or not, and yes, their feelings and attitudes about women. Also, there is a cultural aspect: what does the culture teach about women? Does the culture create an environment where women are valued, respected, protected from violence, or not? That is also very important.
However, this statement from a trans man, one of many I’ve heard like this, contradicts the myth that a trans man would never feel or think sexually dark violent thoughts. I mean, the myth that trans men are not able to feel any impulse or fantasy of sexual violence because of our “female socialization”. Obviously, more than socialization is at play here, to one degree or another.
Another thing to remember is that fantasy is one thing and doing something is another. I am careful to make that distinction in the memoir as well.

MD: Do you experience a lot of misogyny in the trans male community? Do you see a lot of it?

MV: No, I do not. Even this guy who made that provocative statement did not actually hate women. He was only expressing a fear, a feeling, a nearly overwhelming dark sexual impulse that was momentary. But while I have not seen a lot of misogyny, I have seen some misogyny among trans men. There are trans men who have told me that they don’t like women very much, or that they dislike feminine women in particular, they are kind of allergic to femininity, at least as women express it. Not all of these trans men are heterosexual, in fact, many are queer identified or gay trans men. However, altogether I think that trans men are not any more or any less misogynist than any other group of men. In fact, I still think that since we have had female experiences living in the world, we are often more empathetic to women, although this is not always true. Certainly, it is often the case. Breaking it down, misogyny means contempt and hatred of women. And again, most of us don’t have hatred and contempt of women. However, personally, it is one of those accusations where I almost don’t want to defend myself too loudly or too much. I mean, I don’t want to even give it validity by taking it seriously.

MD: You don’t want to be yelling, “That is not me!”

MV: The accusation is so absurd as to be almost beneath me, its crazy to even take it seriously. I don’t want to be defensive as there is no reason for me to be. But, I will defend myself a bit here anyway. Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I treat women with respect, as equals – which is what women are. I actually don’t hate or have contempt for anyone, male or female. Ironically, in some respects, I actually prefer women to men, in some ways I actually like them better generally speaking. But, I certainly like men also and I try and see the world from a large vantage. I think it is important to develop empathy for all kinds of human experiences and people. There is another angle on the memoir, which many who think I am misogynist would never expect. The core audience for the book was always supposed to be heterosexual women actually, and they have often championed the book and been its greatest fans. The Testosterone Files has helped many women understand their boyfriends or husbands.
I get this feedback from women all the time. Susie Bright actually had that take on the book – that it would be helpful to women trying to understand men. And so, it often is. I actually heard that one female student, who had attended a reading of mine at her college, told her professor that The Testosterone Files saved her relationship with her boyfriend! I hear a lot of testimony like that. And, of course the memoir has helped trans men through transition. So, I don’t want to make this sound as though the reaction to the memoir has all been negative, not at all. Or, even that I don’t have many women champions. However, I have observed that people tend to love the memoir or be very upset, there is very little middle ground. Possibly, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

MD: Well, Max this has been quite an illuminating interview. I appreciate your time with me.

MV: Thanks Morty, it was great.