A pet peeve: I feel like every list of books by trans + nonbinary authors is chock-full of memoirs. I love a memoir, but I live on a diet of mostly novels, and that is why I made this list! What’s more: I’ve read very good trans memoirs, but many of them cover the same territory (i.e., gender confusion + coming out). There’s nothing wrong with that at all - there’s just room out there for so many more kinds of trans stories!
Anyway! This list is far from exhaustive; it’s simply 11 books I really like that happen to be written by people who are not cisgender. Some of them are explicitly about trans characters and themes; others may only mention gender identity obliquely or in passing. All of them are sharply written, absorbing, and worth a read.
Woodworking by Emily St. James
Not every book by a trans author is specifically about transness and trans identity, but this one is! St. James, a prolific critic and writer for Yellowjackets, tells the story of Erica, a middle-aged teacher who has just realized she is trans and reaches out to the only other trans person she knows for help - her 17-year-old student Abigail. This is a great pick for people who might be new to reading or thinking about trans issues: it’s a fascinating look at the many facets of womanhood and gender identity in both its trans and cis characters.
Nevada by Imogen Binnie
Widely considered to be one of, if not the greatest, trans novels of all time, Nevada is about Maria, a fascinating fuckup of a trans woman who gets fired, impulsively buys a bunch of heroin, and drives to Nevada. She meets James, who may or may not be trans, and their dynamic drives the drama that unfolds in the desert. A slim, powerful, hilarious character study that I’m already itching to read again.
Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin
Gretchen Felker-Martin writes horror like she’ll get a prize if she makes you puke. She rules! Manhunt is about a small group of trans women and men trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic world where anyone with high enough testosterone turns into a bloodthirsty monster. If the thought of trans women having to eat testicles to boost their estrogen levels doesn’t give you the ick, check this one out. It’s just as gleefully harrowing and compulsively readable as anything Stephen King has written, and I love the way she writes about her characters’ bodies. (Cuckoo, her follow-up to Manhunt, is also excellent.)
Several People Are Typing by Calvin Kasulke
Kasulke’s debut novel follows Gerald, a mid-level employee of a PR company who wakes up one day to find that his consciousness has been uploaded to Slack. The entire book is written in Slack messages, and it’s alternately sweet (a romantic relationship unfolds as Gerald tries to figure out how to free himself) and hilarious (you’ll learn to love the :dusty-stick: emoji). If you’ve ever worked an office job, or if you’ve ever been unfortunate enough to use Slack even once in your life, you’re in for a treat.
Women’s Hotel by Daniel M. Lavery
I’ve been a fan of Lavery’s since his early work with the now defunct website The Toast (RIP!!). Women’s Hotel is a novel of loosely connected stories focusing on the residents of the Biedermeier, a women’s hotel in 1960s New York City. Come for the pitch-perfect attention to detail (if you’re willing to read pages and pages about automats, tearooms, and breakfast trays, this is the book for you), and stay for the unexpectedly tender and moving exploration of loneliness, alcoholism, and mid-century queerness.
The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi
On the same day as a riot in a nearby market, the dead body of young Nigerian-Indian Vivek Oji ends up on his parents’ doorstep, wrapped in a shroud. But how and why did he die? To answer that, the story winds through the members of Vivek’s family - and even follows Vivek’s spirit into the afterlife - until Emezi’s clear-eyed prose eventually reveals what happened. Lovely, life-affirming and heartbreaking in equal measure.
Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters
Peters’ debut novel took the literary world by storm when it was published a few years ago; it was even named one of the New York Times’ 100 Best Books of the 21st Century. It’s also fun and moving as hell! DB tells the stories of Reese, a trans woman; Ames, her ex, who has recently detransitioned; and Katrina, the cis woman that Ames has just gotten pregnant. Peters’ prose is delicious, and no one writes trans women - fierce, funny, catty women you can imagine hanging out and talking shit with - like her. (Her novella Stag Dance is also a marvel.)
Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl by Andrea Lawlor
Lawlor’s novel focuses on Paul, a young adult who can shapeshift, changing their sexual organs and gender expression at will. Armed with this fantastical power, Paul travels between a variety of queer settings, floating from the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival to Provincetown to a leather bar. They do exactly what you’d expect a 23-year-old shapeshifter to do: they have a lot of hot, complicated sex with people of every gender, and it’s a pleasure to read.
Little Blue Encyclopedia (For Vivian) by Hazel Jane Plante
A slim, touching novel about friendship and cult classic TV shows: what else do you want? The titular Vivian is the friend (and unrequited crush) of the book’s narrator; Vivian has just died, and the narrator is writing an encyclopedia about the fictional show Little Blue (described, deliciously, as Twin Peaks meets Gilmore Girls), which Vivian was obsessed with. Plante’s writing is full of heart, occasionally hilarious, often wrenching. If you’re not scared off by something a little more experimental, there’s a lot to admire in here.
Yr Dead by Sam Sax
Sax has been one of my favorite contemporary poets ever since I read their poem “Prediagnosis” in the New York Times almost ten years ago. Their first novel, Yr Dead, takes place in the final moments leading up to the narrator, Ezra, lighting themselves on fire in front of Trump Tower. Sax’s prose, precise but crackling with feeling, keeps things from ever becoming heavy-handed or maudlin, and the book sizzles with the moral helplessness of our current moment. Also, the cover art is also one of my favorites in recent years.