Language’s inherent tension – as both a first-order necessity and a delimiter before the comprehension of selfhoods, identities, and bounded exteriors – both troubles and instructs my choices as a researcher and creative writer. My Overland bio claims I “elect the literary arts as [my] vehicle to convey the forgotten and the unforeseen, that is to say, the repressed and the negotiably real.” I wrote that thinking about queer and trans people, and by extension, all people whose marginalisation includes the experience of scaffolding one’s own embodiment (“becoming”) from the materials of a language that is other, that is hostile, and is designed precisely to prevent that becoming. But I was somehow afraid to name queer and trans people outright. To amend said ambiguity, I now describe the goal more simply: i.e., amplifying queer, trans, and other marginalised voices by expanding what is sayable and what is articulable.