I'm still fairly new to this site, so I should probably start with a bit of an introduction.

As my screen name (Ragtime Rachel) indicates, I'm a ragtime enthusiast. I'm quite enamored as well of the music of the Roaring Twenties and swing eras, and have dabbled a bit in composing ragtime on the computer. (I just wish I could play the piano worth a darn....)

I'm also a male-to-female pre-op transsexual who, incidentally, has cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair.

It has always amazed me that I have never seen a protagonist in transgender fiction who is like me--a wheelchair user with a neurological disorder.

Is it because such a story proves too much of a challenge to most writers? (I mean no offense in saying this--I just imagine they might be skittish because they fear offending those with disabilities). It's been a daunting task even for me so far, or I would have written such a story myself.

Still, it's hard to get away from the thought that such a character would be intriguing--it would certainly put a unique spin on well-known conventions of the genre like the "mall scene": the moment when our young girl- or woman-to-be takes her first real plunge into the world of femininity, getting her hair and nails done, her ears pierced, and buying a female wardrobe to die for.

Just imagine such a scene with a character with physical challenges, and how differently it might play out. Take shoes--*please*!

For me, heels are *out* (though I do remember giving them the old college try once, clomping along on crutches. Not one of my best ideas.) So, really, are any shoes but high-tops, if I want to walk (I step right out of low shoes--my heel cords are so tight that when I did walk, I walked on my tiptoes).

Which brings to mind what could be a charming scene--say our heroine is nine, maybe ten, and wears leg braces with ugly, brown "Frankenstein shoes." (My personal horror at that age--and I grew up in an era of clunky metal leg braces). A sympathetic character who's somewhat artistic could make those shoes white, or pink, with a flower design painted on the toe.

Or the child/young girl could desire a truly pretty pair of shoes, which symbolize for her the femininity she feels within herself. She's told she could never wear them, never walk in them. They would provide an incentive for her to prove herself to the doubters.

Buttons and laces would likely have to be replaced with Velcro, unless our heroine has a sympathetic aide who would dress her. Tights and/or pantyhose could take forever for her to manage, depending on her level of mobility. And makeup? Oh, dear--that could easily reduce her to tears if her hands aren't steady.

Imagine her contending with an unsupportive parent, who seems to delight in rattling off these, and a host of other difficulties, as evidence that her decision to transition might be a mistake.

Not that it need be depressing. It could make that "Cinderella moment" all the more meaningful--when she sees herself in the mirror after her mall expedition, cute as a button or shockingly beautiful. Imagine she had been told all her life--or had convinced herself--that her disability made her ugly. Such a moment would bring a tear of joy to her eyes--and ours.

I suspect I shall have to leave such stories to someone else, however. It's all I can do to come up with a believable premise, let alone a plausible plotline and characters people care about.