UPDATE: This was originally published on Substack, and for that, I apologize. I had outgrown my previous newsletter provider and switched to Substack because I'd heard of it, and it was free. I did not do enough research, and after sending my first newsletter, people let me know of Substack's own issues with not just transphobia, but also Nazis, hate speech, and COVID misinformation. Kind of ironic that I posted "Supporting transphobia is a choice" on a website that chooses to support transphobia.

I have removed the original post from Substack and will not use the site going forward. Thank you to the folks who shared info on Substack's platforming of fascism.

It was months ago that I first heard multiple books that began as Harry Potter fanfic were being traditionally published. I was annoyed, but I did not think much of it, because I try not to engage with TERF or TERF-adjacent content. (If you’re reading this, I assume you know that JK Rowling is a TERF and what that means.)

The past week, these books have been the subject of publishing discourse, especially on Threads. (Discourse feels like it’s become a dismissive term, which is certainly not how I mean it in this situation.)

While my initial annoyance regarding the publication of HP fanfic was indeed about the transphobic views and actions of the series’ original author, I had not processed how support of these books furthers transphobia. I am grateful for numerous (mostly trans) folks on Threads for explaining. I understand if people did not initially recognize the actual harm supporting these books could cause; even as a trans author, I did not initially recognize it either.

What has frustrated me this week—to the point of being unable to write my trans-led book—is the way so many people refuse to change their opinion based on new information. The way so many people are unwilling to even consider, much less admit, they might have done something transphobic. I used the word discourse earlier because I don’t think the word conversation describes what has felt more like trans people begging for respect.

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Being a trans person in the romance community is exhausting.

Just this week, it was pointed out that there doesn’t seem to be a traditionally published trans sapphic contemporary romance written by a trans woman. If representation matters, what is the industry saying by the lack of trans stories? A lot of this is on the capitalistic machine of publishers, but it’s on us as readers, too. What stories are we asking for? What stories are we supporting and prioritizing and talking to our friends about?

When the community does talk about their favorite stories, these discussions are often gender essentialist, equating gender with genitalia. Not all men have penises and not all people who have penises are men, but you wouldn’t know that from how the romance community talks about their favorite characters and tropes. You wouldn’t know that there are more than two genders, nor would you know there’s no such thing as “the opposite sex.”

I don’t think this erasure of trans people is intentional, most of the time. It’s literally that cis folks merely do not think about it. They don’t have to. They see themselves in stories everywhere. They’ve never been excluded in a discussion within the community. They’ve never wondered what public bathroom would be safest for them to use. They’ve never had the author of what was once their favorite book series give almost a hundred thousand dollars to a group trying to legislate them out of existence.

At a convention earlier this year, I was on a panel featuring hot takes within romance. The moderator asked the audience if they agreed with hot takes each of the panelists had shared prior to the panel. Mine was that romance is obnoxiously cishet.

Many in the audience did not seem to know what that term meant.

I explained that cishet means cisgender and heterosexual, and a person is cisgender if their gender identity aligns with the gender they were assigned at birth. I had come to the panel with plans to be a “mean trans person”—to talk seriously, even sternly, about ways the romance community makes me as a trans person feel unwelcome. How was I supposed to do that when much of the audience did not know what the term cishet meant? How are we supposed to get into complexities when the community doesn’t even share an elementary-level understanding?

I love talking about publishing, and I love talking about gender. Most of the time, I am comfortable educating folks on trans issues. But I wish cis folks would intentionally educate themselves. I wish when trans folks did the intense emotional labor of calmly explaining why something is harmful and transphobic, cis folks would listen. I wish that publishing discourse about transphobia would get as much attention as bullying over a ship from The Hunger Games.

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There are a lot of things to be said about the books that began as Harry Potter fanfics. People have pointed out antisemitism and that two of the books are slave romances, a dynamic that makes consent impossible. These are obviously important issues, but even if they didn’t exist, monetarily supporting anything associated with Harry Potter is a transphobic act.

Giving your money to anything associated with Harry Potter means giving money to JK Rowling, which means giving money to anti-trans groups.

Some people have claimed that the books aren’t connected to JK Rowling at all. This is fundamentally untrue. The publishers have marketed these books as Harry Potter fanfiction. Bookstores have signs pointing out that the books are Harry Potter fanfiction. Multiple articles have been written about how the books are Harry Potter fanfiction, some with quotes from the books’ authors. These books continue to make the original series relevant. There is no way to support these books without supporting JK Rowling, which means giving money to anti-trans groups.

I am not trying to cancel anyone. And indeed, no one has been canceled. One of the books is already a bestseller. Another was Indie Next’s Top Pick for July. (And my personal pet peeve, one of the authors is a featured author at Romance Con—not that I’m surprised, given that the convention is put on by a company named after Harry Potter.)

I am not even telling anyone what they can and can’t read. If you want to support these books, go ahead. But know that by doing so you are giving money to anti-trans groups. Know that by doing so you are making the romance community—and the world as a whole—less safe for trans folks.

I would love for my words to change someone’s mind about supporting these books, but I have lived long enough as a trans person to know better than to be optimistic about that possibility. I am used to people claiming to be allies to trans folks while refusing to examine whether their words and actions may be transphobic. I did not write this thinking I would change anyone’s mind. I have already seen other trans folks be ignored over this issue, and I don’t expect my experience to be any different. I’m just so tired, to the point that I need to scream, even if it’s into the void.

To you, this may be the latest round of publishing drama, but to me, it’s further alienation from the genre I want to love. It’s a demonstration of how unimportant real life harm to trans folks like me is to people because they like a book, or because they don’t want to admit a mistake, or because they don’t want to upset someone they’re friends with.

So go ahead and read these books. Go ahead and celebrate them, if that’s what you want to do. But know that choosing to do that is actively ignoring repeated attempts by trans people to explain how you are hurting us. Know that by choosing to do that, you are choosing to be transphobic.

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