I felt it was about time to do a ‘count yer blessings’ piece, reflecting on some unexpectedly positive developments that have come from being hounded to all fuck in the gender wars. It’s not an exhaustive list, and some are a little tongue-in-cheek. Not all are applicable to all houndings, and, of course, I could’ve done without being hounded at all, because it was (is? can be?) a time-consuming, boring-yet-frightening, pain in the absolute arse.

But! We live in the times we do, I was, I still am now and again, and one must make the most of things. So, here we go.

1: It has made me a better - and more confident - writer.

In my Old Life, I remember there used to be little seminars and workshops from time to time that focused on things like ‘How to keep your mental health steady when publishing your first book!’ or ‘Ways that the lovely writing community can assist you in promoting your novel.’ It was understood that our shiny, new, social-media age could be nerve-wracking, and there was a general consensus that, while self-promoting was an ugly necessity, having other writers support was crucial. And that you could expect that.

Of course, that all goes out the window (with the type of writers that go to those seminars) if you get the ‘TERF’ label. It is open season! You’ll get mocked, sneered at, and attacked for everything you say and write. In truth, you’ll get attacked even for things you haven’t written, but which have been put through the gender-identity-activist mangling machine.

It’s excellent training, if you are as insistent as I am that I am going to keep writing- for reasons of sheer bloody-mindedness never mind anything else.

There’s nothing quite like writing to a background hum of constant mockerry of this type that hones one’s mind and skills. Oddly, knowing that it won’t matter if I write a searingly beautiful short essay, a pile of absolute mince, or the recipe for curing cancer, I’ll remain the type of person who elicits a ‘YIKES!’ if my name is seen on a festival bill or in the contents page of a literary anthology, is rather freeing.

2: People who are incapable of critical thinking or discussing really important issues like whether or not arresting a child’s natural, healthy development is ‘kind,’ or whether it’s ‘progressive’ to chuck male rapists in women’s prisons, are, amongst other adjectives, really rather boring people. Never again shall I have to deal with the glazed-eyed look of an ordinarily friendly poetry zealot who shuts up like a clam when I say ‘Actually, Judith Butler’s really incoherent.’ Happy days!

3: I have become EXTREMELY inventive at making baked beans on toast in a variety of different ways, with varied accompaniments and toppings, to take the edge off it becoming, by necessity, a staple of my diet. Yum yum. (Dear American readers, you are totally missing out!)

4: Look, it’s been said before, but lordy me, the Terven are great craic. With all the various shades of discursive faecal matter that have been thrown at us this last decade, that we respond with both wit, good humour, and no shortage of sweary fire as yet another plonker sneers that he has a gender neutral bathroom in his house, or a fretting lady ticks us off for our ‘tone’ while activists threaten to murder us, or some bearded twat tells us that the Supreme Court judgement is actually really bad for women, or some bit-part actor trumps up to tweet that JK Rowling - philanthropist, bestselling novelist, obvious humanitarian - is actually Voldemort, is pretty damn impressive. Even as a great deal of us lose money, work, and opportunities, and take a great deal of psychological kicks, we’re in each other’s DMs keeping each other steady, or setting up amazing new organisations to challenge the madness. I like us. I like us a great deal.

5: Speaking of JK Rowling, look at my shiny new tote bag! Ye don’t get these totes at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, eh? ;)

6: While gender identity activists are fond of the tired old trope that we’re all right-wing nutjobs who have Trump shrines in our bigoted single-sex bathrooms, in truth, there are many, many people who oppose gender identity ideology for a variety of reasons. Yes, some are right-wing, and some are *gasp* Tories, but I’ll tell ye something, I’ve become far better, and again, more confident, arguing my very specifically centre-left, feminist views in rooms where they’ll get a mixed reception. That right-wing or conservative men are still more receptive to hearing feminist arguments than gender identity activists are, should, to anyone sensible, be a bit of a wake-up call about who the intolerant bigots are, but hey. See aforementioned comment about critical thinking.

7: If I hadn’t been hounded, I would never have gotten on the property ladder. Isn’t that funny? I was an emotional basket case and a husk of the human condition when I realised I had to leave Edinburgh in December 2019 for financial reasons. Deciding to move to Ayr, with a decent, gifted deposit, a government fund for first-time buyers, and a smallish mortgage, meant that - just in the nick of time - I saw in a global pandemic from a lovely, affordable, wee two-bed flat by the sea, rather than in a dank central Edinburgh flat that cost a fucking fortune despite having no central heating. Thank you houndlings!!

8: IMAGINE not having said anything about an ideology that has brutalised women in prisons, confused the hell out of an entire generation of young people, coerced young lesbians and gay men into feeling shame for their same-sex attraction, put men into women’s sports, put male rapists in women’s prisons, and whose adherents - both cis and trans-identifying - have hounded hundreds of thousands of women worldwide? I couldn’t sleep at night if I’d done that. *shudder*

9: Over the last five years, I’ve forged close friendships with people I would never have met had none of this happened. Also, in moving back to Ayr, I get to spend loads more time with the Mammy, and have even rekindled friendships with old school pals, all of whom think the houndings and cancellations in the litererererarararary world are fucking mental. Happy days!

10: It’s worth repeating: imagine having said nothing. Just imagine. Not even having the stones to say ‘This violent activism has to stop,’ or ‘Threatening to murder gender critical politicians is wrong.’ Or just, ‘I think this does actually need discussing, actually.’

Imagine.

Glad I don’t have to. xx

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