The Life of A Trans Sci-Fi Writer

This blog almost didn’t get written. I’m currently sat on a seat in Crewe train station. It’s an exceedingly hot August afternoon, and I’ve been given the gift of half an hour to work on my blog; which is a rare and pleasant treat. Yet, I found myself not wanting to write my blog, because I’m in the middle of Gideon The Ninth by Tamsin Muir and its extraordinary! The characters are real, living people, the writing just bursts off the page in a way that I would kill to be able to achieve, and the world that the author has built is so vivid and detailed that it almost feels like you could reach out and touch it. As a result, I was sorely tempted to delve into my bag and fish out the book, to ignore this post and to enjoy half an hour in the company of my new friends. In the end, I was strong, I resisted, and I began writing, because it seemed like the sensible grown-up thing to do. But I love that the scribblings of ink between two flimsy covers can be that powerful, they almost derail