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368 pages, Paperback
First published June 7, 2016
It's been Zeph's experience that Normals have no idea how much most Unusuals like him enjoy the discomfort of spectators. Normals, even the well-meaning ones, think things like: How sad to be so strange, it must be terrible. How tragic they are, who can never be like us. Not necessarily. Unease, disquiet, fear? Heebie-jeebies? This is the daily bread of the Unusual. This, Unusuals understand, is power. However fleeting, however meaningless, this is the only power Unusuals will ever know, and most of them drink it down in big thirsty gulps.
Rosalind grins. 'As a matter of biology, I am most tediously male. Lots of people assume my male half is the act--that I'm a woman dressing as a man. I suppose it obliterates their peace of mind to contemplate the alternative. But there's no denying.'
'Do you wish you were female?'
He considers the question. 'You know, I don't think anyone ever asked me what I want before. And the answer....is no. No, I don't. Which is not to say I'm particularly attached to being male. My parents named me Edward Butler.' He pronounces the name like its a synonym for vomit. 'I took the name Rosalind because I like it better. Some days, I wear dresses because I like them; sometimes I wear trousers because I like those too. Frankly, I don't know why it all has to be so complicated. Actually, that's not true. Of course I know why; I've just chosen not to care very much. Isn't our little earth grim enough without denying ourselves the perfect lipstick? It's not so much that I wish to be female--what I wish is that they'd stop insisting I choose.'
'Look at me." Rosalind speaks very quietly. 'Look at the way I choose to live. Ask yourself just how tough a person has to be to live like this.'