In 2011 I drastically reduced my DWJ book intake to dripfeed levels, so it was only in the 2024 new year that I finally decided to read Deep Secret. My god - out of all her books this seems targeted at me personally? Stressed late-20-somethings, making fools of oneself in vicinity of fav authors, artist alleys?? Also, blatant unmistakable LGBT-rep??? I can't believe I slept on this one for so long!!! Definitely putting it on the upper tiers of my DWJ bookshelf.
Anyway, here's some designs I've whipped up for the characters! As always, might tweak 'em if ever I draw more in the future, but that's what's fun about figuring out character designs. Rob in particular is a joy to me.
"I turned to hunting for the British girl with some relief. At least we were both in the same country. Moreover she was younger than me and possessed, according to Stan’s list, the greatest amount of untrained talent of the lot. She was the one I secretly hoped to select. I even allowed myself very agreeable visions of her as a pretty and intelligent young woman whom it would be a pleasure to instruct. I visualized myself laying down the laws of the Magids to her. I saw her hanging on my every word. I looked forward to meeting her."
Rupert Venables's former notions about Maree Mallory made me laugh so hard 🤣
Over the past year or so, I've seen several people say that since JKR is a TERF, they were going to read Diana Wynne Jones instead. And I'm always in favour of people reading DWJ, but at the same time I was a bit puzzled, because it's not like she was a vocal ally or anything, it's still classic British children's fantasy with barely any LGBTQ+ rep.
It wasn't until last night that I remembered that we can at least get a glimpse of her view on trans people through Deep Secret, and the three long-haired people with the baby.
Deep Secret is one of her adult fantasy novels, partly set at a SFF con, and the three long-haired people with the baby are con-goers who pop up from time to time. They're friendly, and beautiful, and at least one of them is trans (they may or may not all be).
By 2020 standards, it leaves a lot to be desired, not least because one of the characters is deadnamed. But for 1997, written by an author already in her sixties at that point, it's not too shoddy.
Quote from one of their appearances:
By this time it was quite late. People were appearing changed into fine clothes ready for the parties. Maxim Hough hurried past wearing a velvet patchwork jacket, beside two achingly slender girls in glittery dresses. And coming towards us were two fabulous women in long tight black leather dresses that laced up all over with red thongs. It took me a moment to recognize that they were two of the long-haired people with the baby. Their hair was piled up in glossy hairdos and their false eyelashes stuck out a good inch.
Nick recognized them at once. "Wow!" he said. They were delighted. They struck poses and Nick admired them. "What have you done with the baby?" he asked.
"Larry's looking after him, said the one on the left. "Loretta, I mean."
"She's become ever so maternal, since he became a she," the one on the right explained.
Nick became speechless. I asked them rather despairingly whether they'd seen Rupert.
"Rupert the Mage?" they said in their lovely husky voices. One of them added, "I love that man – he's so straight!" and the other one said that he (or she) had seen Rupert going into the Filk Room, just along there. Then they went swaying off – they both had shiny black boots on with six-inch heels. I wondered how they could walk at all, in those tight black leather skirts as well.
Nick said, "I know one of them has to be a man! Can you tell which?"
"Darned if I know!" I said. "They're both so beautiful. But that baby's surely having a weird upbringing!"
Nick said, in a vague way, "All upbringings are weird."
Four Times “5:30 In The Morning” Bit Nick In The Ass (and One Time It Was Worth It)
aka my BIG fic for yuletide! enjoy smol fandom!
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1: 5:31am
Unlike Maree, Nick had never spent a night at his Aunt Irene’s house, full of more children than beds to hold them.
Unlike Maree, when his friends spent the night, they would usually fall asleep in their chairs or on the floor, or, one memorable time, up a tree.
Unlike Maree, who before there was Robbie there was Jeremy and Edward, Nick had never had a girlfriend before.
Thus, there were some aspects to sharing a bed that Nick had never considered.
Like the fact that his girlfriend, who Maree once called “a Dainty Miss Whose Farts Smell Like Flowers” snored like a cross between a freight train and a death metal concert.
Like the fact that Roddy not only stole the covers and left him waking up in the night shivering, but she also would stick her cold, clammy feet on his legs to steal what remaining heat was left to him.
And most of all, like the fact that her limbs would go flying in the night, so that not only was he usually relegated to the furthest edge of the bed, but one memorable time he actually woke up in time to get an elbow to the nose.
2. 5:33am
Nick was awoken by a sharp tugging pain on his ear. That particular pinch and twist, delivered with a bite of nail, that went straight to his hind brain even if would take another three hours for the rest of him to wake up, could only be from one person…
“Mrefreee.”
“Get up Nick.”
This was grossly unfair. Maree knew that it was going to be at least two pots of coffee, one and a half if he really pushed it, before he was even intelligible.
“Mfghght.”
A particularly sharp twist wasn’t enough to get him up but it definitely made him flip over from his stomach to his back.
“Your girlfriend? You know, the one who lives literally on another world? A world separate from ours?“
Oh yes. Roddy. Good old Roddy. They had said their goodbyes last night. Silly Maree.
“Ffmgwethdk.”
A piercing pain went through him and travelled down his spine, which must mean that Maree was really using her nails.
“MREE!”
“Your girlfriend, who loves you, and you only get to see a few times a year, is getting ready to leave. She is currently on the couch waiting for her ride and she is looking sad and I think Little Miss is doing her best not to cry.”
Sudden cold, as his horrible, awful, terrible no good sister ripped the covers away from the bed and tossed them on the ground.
“Nnnnghaet.”
Nick managed to work his way through the centimeter of eye crud that had collected in the night to blearily peer at his sister… or more accurately, the very sharp nail that was less than a breath away from his face.
“I have a coffee pot going, but you are going to get up, and get your ass downstairs, and sit with Roddy until she leaves. You are going to hold her hand, and I don’t know, give her a hug or something, but you are going to be in her presence and with her and acting like her partner.”
Nick considered staying in bed.
Nick was kind of dumb when he woke up, but he wasn’t suicidal.
Maree sighed as Nick managed to sit up. “Here, I’ll help you downstairs at least.”
3: 5:35
A sharp cry; not quite a scream but a little too close to comfort, woke Nick up.
The first few times it happened, Nick wasn’t sure what was happening, or how to fix it. To be honest, he still wasn’t sure if what he was doing was helping all that much.
Next to him, Roddy was curled up into as tight of a ball as she could, clutching her hip as it radiated pain that Nick could practically see coming off of her in waves.
Roddy had of course explained to him about the hurt lady; about how she had obtained the woman’s knowledge.
About why her hip would still to this day, without warning, break into screaming, blinding pain that would last a second or an hour or, one time, a week.
“No knowledge comes free I suppose,” Roddy had told him once, her teeth grit, face pale and covered in sweat.
Nick was of course, very selfish, and he personally thought the whole thing was bullshit. The first time, he didn’t quite understand but he got it. Magic… magic was magic. And magic came with a price.
But a price repaid over and over again was just fucking vindictive and useless and mean.
Gently, trying his best not to jostle his girlfriend, Nick took Roddy into his arms and held her as tight as he could.
4. 5:37
A jab in his kidneys.
“Mmmf?”
Another jab in his kidneys and…
Wait.
Why was a large portion of the sheets wet?
Why was Roddy turning on the lights and swearing?
Why was there a weird wet spot on part of his pajama pant-
Oh.
Oh god.
Oh god now.
Nick could literally feel part of his brain shutting down as Roddy swore, quickly and under her breath.
“Well damn. There goes these sheets.”
“Nnngh.”
“Nick, can you go get the hot water bottle? It should be under the sink in the bathroom?”
There was no way he could do that, could do anything connected to this-
His wonderful, darling girlfriend leaned in close to his face.
“It’s fetch me my bottle,” Roddy said sweetly, “or change these sheets.”
Truly, this was the nightmare scenario.
5. 5:39
Nick hadn’t slept a wink all night.
But to be fair, his wife hadn’t either. And while Nick was still after all these years quite proudly selfish, in this case he would admit that Roddy had had the harder job of the two of them.
Though he had tried to point out that three hours of labor was really pretty good, according to what the doctors had told them, and Roddy had chucked a buzzer at him in response.
There was a little red bundle, freshly cleaned up and wailing fit to bring the house down, placed into Roddy’s arms.
“She has your nose,” Roddy said.
Nick looked.
Diana Marina Mallory had a surprisingly large thatch of black hair on her head, all ten fingers and toes… and a face that was more squished than that of a pug.
“Are you sure she doesn’t have yours?” he asked. (Later, Roddy would tell him that he actually touched the bridge of his nose, “like you forgot that aquiline beak on your face”)
Any other time, Roddy would have given him a swat on the arm. But here and now, she just laughed and took his hand to guide it to their daughter’s head.
5:30 in the morning was miserable.
5:30 in the morning was going to continue to be miserable.
But, Nick was starting to think the rest of the morning would be worth it
