If I was Your Girl is about a transgender girl. This is not some plot-destroying spoiler; the marketing makes it clear enough and the truth of the matter is revealed quickly enough. Even the About the Author bio makes the subject clear with the admission that the novel is “partially inspired” by the author’s own experiences. This admission, however, seems to border on the unlikely as the story told in the narrative is situated on the spectrum transgender stories that lean heavily toward the fairy tale fantasy. Eventually, one closes the back cover on this novel assuming it was written as an example of “Up Lit” which is a 21st century genre designation for fiction intentionally written with a happy ending designed to lift up the spirits of readers and leave them with a more optimistic outlook. Quite often, novels in this category first put down a foundation of hopelessness or despondency that the protagonist must overcome on the way to that unexpectedly happy ending.
There is nothing inherently bad about this approach to fiction. Not all stories must be gritty to the point of portraying the universe as a Coen Brothers-esque place where God is absent and every fate is the result of coin flipped by other people. There is certainly a place for uplifting positive stories, especially those not dependent upon belief in a certain (Christian) faith. In fact, the single most positive aspect of most books that fit into the Up Lit category is the refreshing absence of the insistence that happy endings are only possible as a result of accepting Jesus as your savior. As if doing that has led so many people to happy lives.
What is especially interesting about this essentially unrealistic novel—in another era it would have been termed Romantic or sentimental as opposed to being Realistic—is the focus it places upon religious faith. The story is set in the south where evangelical Christianity is the most potent force against transgender rights and that opposition does not go unmentioned. And yet, even here, the full brunt of realism is downplayed. The story of Amanda is noted by the author as not being representative. Amanda passes quite easily as female, she has only very limited parental issues, she is able to get surgery she most likely could never really afford and the boy of her dreams has seemingly little problems in dealing with her trans status.
In essence, this really is a fairy tale version of the trans experience. But that should not be a basis for complaint. After all, fairy tales are instrumental in the history of literature. They are almost always where a child’s understanding of the world starts out, literarily speaking. So why shouldn’t young trans readers have an outlet of their own that shapes and defines a sense of wondrous possibilities?
