Hiding in Plain Sight

Erica Skyberg, a closeted trans woman and high school English teacher in conservative Mitchell, South Dakota, is an expert at blending in. She performs masculinity so well that even her colleagues, like Hank, see only a sad divorcé, not the woman she's desperate to become. Her internal world is a fog of self-surveillance and fear, her emotions locked away as she tries to avoid detection. The only time she feels a flicker of hope is when she hears about Abigail, a trans student who's already out. Erica's longing to connect with someone like herself is palpable, but the risks of being seen are overwhelming. She's haunted by the sense that she's lost years of her life to hiding, and every day she wonders if she'll ever be able to live as herself.

Detention Bonds and Nail Polish

When Erica arranges to supervise Abigail's detention, the two trans women—one closeted, one out—circle each other warily. Erica's desperate for advice, but Abigail, jaded and defensive, resists being anyone's mentor. Still, a fragile connection forms: Abigail buys Erica her first bottle of pink nail polish, a small act of solidarity that feels enormous. Their late-night parking lot exchange is awkward, funny, and charged with the terror of being seen. For Erica, the encounter is a lifeline; for Abigail, it's a reminder of how much she wants to disappear. Both are haunted by the fear of exposure, but in each other, they glimpse the possibility of being known.

The Ex-Wife's Secret

Erica's ex-wife, Constance, is cast as the lead in the community production of Our Town, and their paths cross again. The revelation that Constance is pregnant with her new partner's child devastates Erica, who's still mourning the end of their marriage and the life she never got to live. Their interactions are fraught with longing, regret, and the ache of secrets unspoken. Erica wonders if Constance's refusal to have children with her was less about trauma and more about sensing Erica's own gendered distance. The news of the pregnancy is a catalyst, forcing Erica to confront what she's lost and what she still wants.

Abigail's Survival Guide

Abigail narrates her own story with biting humor and raw honesty. Kicked out by her parents for being trans, she lives with her older sister Jennifer and Jennifer's boyfriend Ron. She's fiercely independent, cynical about the world, and determined to disappear into the woodwork the second she graduates. Her relationship with Caleb, a closeted jock, is messy and secretive, leaving her feeling both desired and invisible. Abigail's only real solace comes from her online trans community and the rare moments when someone sees her as more than a curiosity. She's both mentor and cautionary tale for Erica, but she's also just a teenager trying to survive.

Small Town, Big Secrets

The town of Mitchell is a microcosm of American conservatism, where everyone knows everyone's business and secrets are currency. Brooke Daniels, the powerful, closeted trans woman who runs the local theater and supports anti-trans politicians, is both a gatekeeper and a warning. Abigail and Megan, a well-meaning liberal classmate, try to organize a student group to support a progressive candidate, Helen Swee, but run up against the entrenched power of figures like Isaiah Rose. The threat of exposure is constant, and the lines between allyship, exploitation, and self-preservation blur.

The Play's the Thing

The community production of Our Town becomes a crucible for Erica, Constance, and the town itself. The play's themes of missed moments and the impossibility of truly seeing one another echo through Erica's attempts to reconnect with Constance and to find her own place in the world. Rehearsals are fraught with tension, secrets, and the ever-present threat of being found out. For Erica, the play is both a lifeline and a reminder of everything she's lost by hiding.

Friendship, Friction, and Fights

Erica and Abigail's relationship deepens, but it's never simple. Abigail resists being cast as Erica's guide, while Erica's neediness and fear of exposure strain their connection. Both are haunted by the specter of being "too much" for others to handle. Their arguments are sharp, funny, and often cruel, but beneath the surface is a desperate need for recognition. When Erica tries to retreat into the safety of her old life, Abigail calls her out, refusing to let her disappear without a fight.

Family Ties Unravel

Abigail's family drama comes to a head when her mother and father try to forcibly reclaim her, leading to a violent confrontation. Jennifer's fierce protectiveness is both a comfort and a burden, as Abigail struggles with the guilt of being the reason her sister's life has been upended. Erica's relationship with Constance is similarly fraught, as both women try to navigate the boundaries between love, friendship, and selfhood. The question of what it means to be family—by blood, by choice, by survival—runs through every interaction.

Coming Out, Breaking Down

The pressure of hiding becomes unbearable, and Erica finally comes out to her principal, Hank, with Abigail at her side. The moment is both anticlimactic and shattering: Hank's cold, bureaucratic response is a reminder of how little the world is prepared to accommodate her. Erica is forced to leave her job, her sense of self in freefall. The flood of emotions she's kept at bay for decades threatens to drown her, but in Abigail's steady presence, she finds a reason to keep swimming.

The Debate and the Flood

The student debate between Helen Swee and Isaiah Rose becomes a flashpoint. Isaiah outs Erica in front of the whole town, and Helen's impassioned defense of trans lives is both a balm and a provocation. The flood metaphor—of being swept away by forces beyond your control—reaches its peak as Erica, Abigail, and their allies scramble to protect each other from the rising tide of hatred and misunderstanding. The cost of visibility is high, but the alternative—disappearing forever—is no longer tenable.

Woodworking and Disappearing Acts

Brooke's long-hidden past as a trans woman who "woodworked" (disappeared into the woodwork) is revealed. Her story is one of survival, compromise, and the high price of safety. She's both a cautionary tale and a source of hope, showing that it's possible to build a life, but also that the cost of erasure is profound. Her connection to Abigail and Erica becomes a lifeline, even as she struggles to reconcile her own choices.

The Power of Recognition

The novel's emotional core is the act of recognition: the moment when one trans person sees another, when a parent calls a child by her name, when a friend says, "I see you." These moments are rare and hard-won, but they are transformative. Abigail's near-abduction by her parents is thwarted not just by physical intervention, but by the collective will of her chosen family to see her as she is. Erica's journey is marked by the slow, painful process of being recognized—by herself, by Constance, by her community.

The Cost of Safety

The safety of the closet, of woodworking, is seductive but ultimately hollow. Brooke's story is a testament to the ways in which survival can become its own kind of prison. Erica's fear of losing everything is real, but the price of never being known is too high. Abigail's longing to disappear is a defense mechanism, but it's also a form of self-erasure. The novel asks: What are we willing to give up to be safe? And what do we lose in the process?

The World is Watching

The 2016 election looms over everything, a reminder that the world is changing—and not always for the better. The characters' personal struggles are mirrored in the larger political battles raging around them. The question of who gets to be seen, who gets to belong, is both intimate and global. The novel refuses easy answers, insisting that the fight for recognition is ongoing and unfinished.

Choosing Yourself

Erica's decision to start hormones and move to Madison is both an act of self-creation and a leap into the unknown. Constance's choice to end her pregnancy and pursue her own dreams is equally fraught. Both women must learn to let go of the versions of themselves that no longer serve them, and to trust that the future, however uncertain, is worth fighting for. Their love is real, but it's not enough to erase the wounds of the past.

New Beginnings, Old Wounds

As Erica and Constance prepare to leave Mitchell, they grapple with the legacies of their families, their friendships, and their own choices. Brooke's tentative steps toward reconnecting with her sister are a reminder that healing is possible, but never simple. Abigail's decision to stay, to go to college, to help others, is an act of hope in the face of despair. The wounds of the past linger, but they do not define the future.

Letters, Legacies, and Letting Go

The novel's final chapters are a meditation on legacy: the letters we write, the names we claim, the histories we pass down. Brooke's message to her sister, Erica's new life in Madison, Abigail's visit to Danielle—all are acts of reaching across time and distance to say, "I was here. I mattered." The act of letting go is both painful and necessary, a way of making room for what comes next.

The Next Girl in Line

In the end, the story is not just about Erica, Abigail, or Brooke, but about the next girl in line—the trans girl handing out fliers at Walmart, the young people who will inherit the world they've helped to change. The novel ends with a gesture of solidarity, a promise that the work of recognition, of survival, of joy, is never finished. The world is still dangerous, but it is also full of possibility.

Characters

Erica Skyberg

Erica is a thirty-something English teacher in rural South Dakota, recently divorced and deeply closeted as a trans woman. Her life is a performance of masculinity, a daily act of self-erasure that leaves her numb and disconnected. Erica's journey is one of painfully slow awakening: from secret longings and online roleplay to tentative steps toward transition, catalyzed by her friendship with Abigail and her unresolved love for her ex-wife, Constance. Psychoanalytically, Erica is driven by shame, fear of loss, and a desperate hunger to be seen. Her development is nonlinear—marked by retreats, breakdowns, and moments of courage. Her relationships with Abigail (mentor/mentee, friend, mirror) and Constance (ex-wife, soulmate, fellow survivor) are the crucibles in which she is finally forged as herself.

Abigail Hawkes

Abigail is a seventeen-year-old trans girl, kicked out by her parents and living with her older sister. She's sharp-tongued, funny, and fiercely independent, but her bravado masks deep wounds. Abigail's survival strategies—DIY hormones, online communities, a determination to "woodwork" and disappear—are both armor and prison. Her relationship with Erica is complex: she resists being a role model, but can't help caring. With Caleb, she experiences both desire and the pain of being someone's secret. Abigail's psychological landscape is shaped by trauma, abandonment, and a longing for unconditional love. Over the course of the novel, she moves from self-erasure to tentative hope, learning to accept help and to imagine a future for herself.

Constance Ward

Constance is Erica's ex-wife, a talented actress with her own history of trauma and self-protection. She's both muse and mirror for Erica, embodying the life Erica longs for and the pain of what's been lost. Constance's pregnancy with her new partner's child is a turning point, forcing both women to confront the limits of their relationship and the necessity of letting go. Psychoanalytically, Constance is caught between roles—wife, mother, friend, lover—and struggles to claim her own desires. Her eventual decision to end her pregnancy and pursue her own dreams is an act of self-liberation, even as it breaks Erica's heart.

Brooke Daniels

Brooke is the powerful, closeted trans woman who runs the local theater and supports anti-trans politicians. Her life is a masterclass in woodworking—disappearing into the woodwork to survive. Brooke's story is one of compromise, loss, and the high price of safety. She's both a warning and a source of hope, showing that it's possible to build a life, but also that the cost of erasure is profound. Her relationship with Abigail is fraught, as she tries to be a mentor but can't escape her own patterns of avoidance. Brooke's eventual steps toward honesty and connection are hard-won and deeply moving.

Megan Osborne

Megan is Abigail's classmate and eventual best friend, a well-meaning liberal with a passion for politics and a hunger for connection. She's both comic relief and emotional ballast, her relentless optimism masking her own loneliness. Megan's attempts to help Abigail are sometimes clumsy, but always sincere. Her journey is one of learning to listen, to accept imperfection, and to claim her own desires (including her queerness). Megan's friendship is a lifeline for Abigail, and their bond is one of the novel's most hopeful threads.

Caleb Daniels

Caleb is Abigail's on-again, off-again boyfriend, a closeted jock struggling with his own identity and the expectations of his powerful, conservative family. His relationship with Abigail is passionate but fraught, marked by secrecy, guilt, and the fear of being found out. Caleb's psychological struggle is one of internalized homophobia, longing for acceptance, and the pain of loving someone he can't fully claim. His eventual acts of courage—standing up for Abigail, coming out to his family—are hard-won and incomplete, but they mark real growth.

Jennifer Hawkes

Jennifer is Abigail's older sister and legal guardian, a young woman whose life has been upended by her commitment to keeping Abigail safe. She's both mother and sibling, her love fierce but sometimes suffocating. Jennifer's relationship with Abigail is marked by guilt, sacrifice, and the struggle to balance her own needs with her sister's. She's a model of chosen family, but also a reminder of the limits of what one person can do.

Helen Swee

Helen is the progressive candidate running against Isaiah Rose, a political outsider with a sharp mind and a big heart. She becomes a friend and confidante to Erica, offering both practical support and a vision of a better world. Helen's story is one of fighting against impossible odds, refusing to give up even when defeat is certain. Her willingness to listen, to risk vulnerability, and to stand up for what's right makes her a beacon in the novel's storm.

Isaiah Rose

Isaiah is the local minister and politician whose anti-trans rhetoric and policies cast a long shadow over the town. He's both a specific threat and a stand-in for the larger forces of bigotry and exclusion. Isaiah's power lies in his ability to make cruelty seem reasonable, to turn the machinery of the town against those who don't fit. He's not a caricature, but a chillingly familiar figure, and his presence forces every other character to reckon with what they're willing to risk for the sake of belonging.

Bernadette

Bernadette is the leader of the Sioux Falls trans support group, a wise, wry, and deeply compassionate older trans woman. She's a source of perspective, comfort, and tough love for both Erica and Abigail. Bernadette's story is one of loss and resilience, having given up everything to live as herself and slowly rebuilt a life worth living. Her presence is a reminder that survival is possible, that joy can be reclaimed, and that the work of recognition is never finished.

Plot Devices

Dual Narration and Shifting Perspectives

The novel alternates between Erica's and Abigail's points of view, with occasional chapters from Brooke and others. This structure allows the reader to inhabit both the closeted adult's and the out teenager's experiences, highlighting the generational differences and shared struggles of trans women. The shifting perspectives create dramatic irony, as each character knows things the others don't, and the reader is invited to piece together the full story from these fragments. The narrative is nonlinear, looping back to key moments and reinterpreting them through different eyes, mirroring the process of coming out and self-discovery.

The Play Within the Play

The community production of Our Town serves as both plot engine and thematic mirror. Its focus on missed moments, the impossibility of truly seeing one another, and the ache of ordinary life resonates with the characters' struggles to be recognized and to claim their own stories. The play's structure—life, death, and the space in between—echoes the novel's exploration of what it means to live authentically, to mourn what's lost, and to hope for more.

Woodworking and Stealth

The concept of "woodworking"—disappearing into the woodwork, living stealth as a trans person—is both a literal survival strategy and a metaphor for the ways in which people erase themselves to fit in. Brooke's story embodies the allure and the pain of this choice, while Erica and Abigail grapple with the temptation to disappear and the longing to be seen. The motif recurs throughout the novel, from Abigail's plans to run away to Erica's years of hiding, and is ultimately interrogated as both necessary and tragic.

Recognition and Naming

The act of recognition—of seeing and naming someone as they are—is the novel's central plot device. Whether it's a parent calling a child by her chosen name, a friend acknowledging a secret, or a stranger offering a moment of solidarity, these acts are transformative. The motif of naming recurs in moments of crisis and connection, underscoring the stakes of visibility and the cost of erasure.

Foreshadowing and Flood Imagery

The recurring image of the flood—borrowed from Bernadette's dream and threaded through the narrative—serves as both foreshadowing and metaphor. It represents the unstoppable force of change, the terror of being swept away, and the possibility of surviving by letting go. The motif is echoed in the characters' emotional arcs, the political climate, and the literal storms that punctuate the story.

Letters, Legacies, and Intergenerational Connection

The novel is structured around letters, essays, and messages—Erica's coming out, Brooke's letter to her sister, Caleb's essay about Abigail, Abigail's visit to Danielle. These documents serve as both plot devices and symbols of the ways in which stories are transmitted, distorted, and reclaimed. The intergenerational connections between characters—Brooke and Danielle, Erica and Abigail, Abigail and the next girl in line—underscore the continuity of trans experience and the hope that each generation will have it a little easier.

Analysis

Woodworking is a powerful, deeply empathetic exploration of trans life in small-town America, set against the backdrop of the 2016 election and the rising tide of anti-trans sentiment. At its core, the novel is about the cost of hiding and the transformative power of recognition. Through its intertwined narratives, it examines the ways in which survival strategies—stealth, woodworking, self-erasure—can become prisons, and how the longing to be seen is both a source of pain and a wellspring of hope. The book refuses easy answers: it acknowledges the real dangers of visibility, the betrayals of family and community, and the ways in which even well-meaning allies can do harm. Yet it also insists on the possibility of joy, connection, and self-creation. The lessons are clear: safety bought at the price of selfhood is no safety at all; chosen family can be as real and sustaining as blood; and the work of building a more just, more loving world is ongoing, unfinished, and worth every risk. In a time when trans lives are under siege, Woodworking offers both a mirror and a map—a story of survival, solidarity, and the stubborn, beautiful refusal to disappear.

Last updated: February 18, 2026