Round 2!
Okay! Continuing on, I've got an--err--sample chunk here of how I'm thinking of handling the matter of Grandma Billy, and I was hoping I could get some feedback. (I generally do not believe in writing by committee, but this is too important a bit to get right to leave it up to bumbling authorial goodwill.)
First, though--thank you very much to everyone who has been patient with me here. I am trying to do this right and it is hard and a little scary and I know I've said a couple stupid things already. You guys have been awesome, and I really appreciate it. (I realize that it's exhausting to educate even the well-meaning, day after day.)
I've gone back and forth a few times on this one--and I may yet go back again!--but my current thinking is that I don't want anybody other than Grandma Billy to bring it up. So I'm thinking I leave the draft somewhat as it stands, use nothing but the correct gendered pronouns, and then at some point insert the following scene--and then pretty much leave it there and carry on with were-javelinas or whatever the book turns out to be about. (I have no idea what it will be about. Probably not were-javelinas.)
What I want to avoid, very hard, is any sense that this is a Big Reveal or that there were hints dropped or that this is a solution to a puzzle or something. And I want to make sure that this works without being painful. (Obviously there's not a universal trans* experience, but I'm hoping to avoid a broadly hurtful one!) Part of the awkwardness is that I cannot see Grandma Billy actually saying "trans gender" or any variant--she is very clever but her language runs a different way. This is a woman who'd call menopause "the change." (Hat tip to Sigilgoat for bringing up what I thought was a rather elegant turn of phrase, and I hope I can borrow it!)
So, anyway:
“You’ve been married,” said Selena, staring into her mason jar. She wasn’t entirely sure about this “desert mojito” thing. It tasted like sagebrush smelled, or at least what sagebrush would smell like if it were grown in the middle of a distillery. “You know what it’s like.”
“Eh, yeah…” Grandma Billy poured herself another slug of mojito. “The first one was pretty, but not worth much. ‘Course, that was back in the day, when I was a boy, and I wasn’t thinking too straight myself.”
There was a lengthy pause.
“Um,” said Selena. “I—um.”
She flailed for a script and couldn’t find one. For some reason, all she could see in her mind was the employee handbook from the deli, which had a page on addressing transgender* employees. It is very important to address the employee by the name and pronoun they have selected. Failure to do so will be grounds for a Human Resources complaint.
That line had been highlighted. Oh god, I didn’t miscall her, did I? That’s bad—you don’t do that, that’s the thing you don’t ever do—oh god, have I said “man” or “dude” or called her a wiseguy I can’t remember—
She had a sudden panicked feeling that if she turned around, HR would be standing behind her right this minute.
“Close your mouth, dear, you’re gonna catch moths,” said Grandma Billy, much amused.
“I’m sorry,” said Selena. “I haven’t said anything horribly offensive to you, have I?”
“You insulted my rooster. I haven’t forgotten that. That rooster may not look like much, but his sire was Dynamo, who once went six rounds with a feral hog and sent that pig crying back to his mommy. That rooster has hidden depths.”
“Grandma--!”
She grinned. “Lord, you’re fine. It ain’t any kind of secret. It’s been forty-seven years since I made the switch, all the hard bits got knocked off a long time ago.”
“I didn’t know,” said Selena meekly.
“No reason you should. Never met a person so resistant to gossip." She shrugged. "Had to stop taking the pills when I hit seventy and had the change. That was a bitch. You ever have a hot flash in a desert?” She took another slug of mojito and shuddered theatrically.
The silence that followed was awkward but companionable. A white moth spiraled raggedly toward the yucca flowers.
“So anyway, you’ve been married...” said Selena, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation again. “And you know, there’s that point where you’re like “I love you, but you’re loading the dishwasher wrong?”
“Twenty-seven years with Billy,” said Grandma, snorting. “Twenty-seven years, and every damn dish had to soak for three days. Not that we had a dishwasher, but he’d leave things in the sink.” She glared at her mojito. “I miss him terribly, even now, but by god, my sink is clean.”
*Is this the correct spacing/usage? I’m still not completely clear on use as adjective vs. noun, and which spacing is correct. Is it that transgendered as a noun is perceived as putting people off in a different box, but it's okay as an adjective, or do I have the wrong end of the stick?
ETA: Clipped off the -ed at the end in the handbook to try to pull it up to standard style guide. (Yes, of course the handbook could be wrong, but I'd rather everyone was as right as possible...)
First, though--thank you very much to everyone who has been patient with me here. I am trying to do this right and it is hard and a little scary and I know I've said a couple stupid things already. You guys have been awesome, and I really appreciate it. (I realize that it's exhausting to educate even the well-meaning, day after day.)
I've gone back and forth a few times on this one--and I may yet go back again!--but my current thinking is that I don't want anybody other than Grandma Billy to bring it up. So I'm thinking I leave the draft somewhat as it stands, use nothing but the correct gendered pronouns, and then at some point insert the following scene--and then pretty much leave it there and carry on with were-javelinas or whatever the book turns out to be about. (I have no idea what it will be about. Probably not were-javelinas.)
What I want to avoid, very hard, is any sense that this is a Big Reveal or that there were hints dropped or that this is a solution to a puzzle or something. And I want to make sure that this works without being painful. (Obviously there's not a universal trans* experience, but I'm hoping to avoid a broadly hurtful one!) Part of the awkwardness is that I cannot see Grandma Billy actually saying "trans gender" or any variant--she is very clever but her language runs a different way. This is a woman who'd call menopause "the change." (Hat tip to Sigilgoat for bringing up what I thought was a rather elegant turn of phrase, and I hope I can borrow it!)
So, anyway:
“You’ve been married,” said Selena, staring into her mason jar. She wasn’t entirely sure about this “desert mojito” thing. It tasted like sagebrush smelled, or at least what sagebrush would smell like if it were grown in the middle of a distillery. “You know what it’s like.”
“Eh, yeah…” Grandma Billy poured herself another slug of mojito. “The first one was pretty, but not worth much. ‘Course, that was back in the day, when I was a boy, and I wasn’t thinking too straight myself.”
There was a lengthy pause.
“Um,” said Selena. “I—um.”
She flailed for a script and couldn’t find one. For some reason, all she could see in her mind was the employee handbook from the deli, which had a page on addressing transgender* employees. It is very important to address the employee by the name and pronoun they have selected. Failure to do so will be grounds for a Human Resources complaint.
That line had been highlighted. Oh god, I didn’t miscall her, did I? That’s bad—you don’t do that, that’s the thing you don’t ever do—oh god, have I said “man” or “dude” or called her a wiseguy I can’t remember—
She had a sudden panicked feeling that if she turned around, HR would be standing behind her right this minute.
“Close your mouth, dear, you’re gonna catch moths,” said Grandma Billy, much amused.
“I’m sorry,” said Selena. “I haven’t said anything horribly offensive to you, have I?”
“You insulted my rooster. I haven’t forgotten that. That rooster may not look like much, but his sire was Dynamo, who once went six rounds with a feral hog and sent that pig crying back to his mommy. That rooster has hidden depths.”
“Grandma--!”
She grinned. “Lord, you’re fine. It ain’t any kind of secret. It’s been forty-seven years since I made the switch, all the hard bits got knocked off a long time ago.”
“I didn’t know,” said Selena meekly.
“No reason you should. Never met a person so resistant to gossip." She shrugged. "Had to stop taking the pills when I hit seventy and had the change. That was a bitch. You ever have a hot flash in a desert?” She took another slug of mojito and shuddered theatrically.
The silence that followed was awkward but companionable. A white moth spiraled raggedly toward the yucca flowers.
“So anyway, you’ve been married...” said Selena, trying to pick up the thread of the conversation again. “And you know, there’s that point where you’re like “I love you, but you’re loading the dishwasher wrong?”
“Twenty-seven years with Billy,” said Grandma, snorting. “Twenty-seven years, and every damn dish had to soak for three days. Not that we had a dishwasher, but he’d leave things in the sink.” She glared at her mojito. “I miss him terribly, even now, but by god, my sink is clean.”
*Is this the correct spacing/usage? I’m still not completely clear on use as adjective vs. noun, and which spacing is correct. Is it that transgendered as a noun is perceived as putting people off in a different box, but it's okay as an adjective, or do I have the wrong end of the stick?
ETA: Clipped off the -ed at the end in the handbook to try to pull it up to standard style guide. (Yes, of course the handbook could be wrong, but I'd rather everyone was as right as possible...)