THIS IS THE LAST in the Leo Stanhope series.
I started writing about Leo because I care about the right of every person to decide who they are. My research told me that the topic of gender identity is absent from nineteenth-century British literature even though there were numerous examples of real trans people in Victorian times. Some of them became the subject of salacious press attention after their deaths, such as James Barry, who was a top surgeon in the British Army, and Harry Stokes, who fixed chimneys and fireplaces. And yet the novelists and playwrights of the time ignored them.
Perhaps, I thought, it was time to put trans people back.
But I am not trans. I’m an ally with the best of intentions, but still, a cis man writing about a trans man. Did I have the right to do this? I’m still not certain.
In my earliest attempts, I tried making Leo a lesser character, a friend of the main protagonist, but he refused to be sidelined. He kept hogging the limelight. So, I surrendered and made him the central character in the first of these novels, The House on Half Moon Street, giving myself three rules. First, as a historical series, Leo’s experience would be somewhat removed from the present-day lives of trans people. Second, my stories wouldn’t be about being or becoming trans, they would be about a man who happened to be trans. Leo’s criminal cases are neither caused by, nor solved by, his gender identity. He has a unique perspective but being trans is just one part of who he is, not the sum of it. And finally, I sought the views of trans people, who gave me wonderful insights and were very supportive of my endeavours.
And now, you are holding the fourth and last of them. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about Leo as much as I’ve enjoyed writing about him. But I feel I’ve achieved what I set out to do, and it’s time to move on. I remain fascinated by gender identity in all its forms, and I can’t wait to read the stories of other, better qualified writers. I have no doubt they will be as bright as fireworks, lighting up the sky.
Many skilled people have made this journey possible. My huge thanks to Carrie Plitt at Felicity Bryan Associates and the brilliant folks at Bloomsbury Raven, including Alison Hennessey, Sara Helen Binney, Ella Harold, Lilidh Kendrick and numerous others. Also, thanks to Dr Paul Vlitos and Prof Patricia Pullman at the University of Surrey for their expertise and advice, and everyone who helped with the research, including the British Library, Gladstone’s Library, the Women’s Library at the London School of Economics, the National Museum of the Royal Navy, the National Archives and many, many others. Also, thanks to my friend Magda Adamska for her help with the Polish tattoos, and Paula Akpan for her expert advice.
Also, my eternal respect and gratitude to the Beaumont Society, a charity doing important work supporting the trans community and advising on trans issues. You can find them at www.beaumontsociety.org.uk.
And finally, I’m forever grateful to my wonderful sons, Seth and Caleb, and my inestimable wife, Michelle, all of whom I love beyond measure.