Of course, I can't separate my queerness from my brownness - if anything, my queerness amplifies my brownness, and vice versa - but I spent so much of my early twenties trying to erase my differences, often without awareness of what I was doing.

I especially worry about the ways Canadians can be glib about our supposed difference from the US in our "acceptance" of "diversity."

It's exciting to consider how art, in its ability to reveal, can be ahead of the artist.

Writing about racism requires a directness that writing a love story does not.

Children are receptive to talking about gender creativity, confirming the importance of the book as a means to instigate this dialogue at an early age.

I am more likely to get paid for my art if it's presented alongside a white artist, so the questions around value and agency arise: What choices should I make, or do I have to make, if I want to be compensated for my work? Why isn't my art valued on its own?

My intention was never to write a "trans novel" - which is perhaps an effective strategy for writing a trans novel.