Emily St. James’s debut novel Woodworking arrives like a beacon of nuanced storytelling in the contemporary literary landscape. Set against the backdrop of Mitchell, South Dakota during the 2016 presidential election, this deeply moving narrative follows the unlikely friendship between Erica Skyberg, a 35-year-old English teacher who has recently realized she’s transgender, and Abigail Hawkes, a sharp-tongued 17-year-old student who’s the only openly trans girl at Mitchell High School.
What makes Woodworking stand out isn’t merely its exploration of transgender experiences—though it does this with remarkable authenticity—but its profound meditation on friendship, community, and the courage required to claim one’s true identity in places that might not accommodate it easily.
The Heart of the Story: Identity and Connection
The novel alternates between Erica and Abigail’s perspectives, with a crucial third voice emerging later in the narrative. Erica, recently divorced and living in quiet desperation, has come to the realization that she’s transgender but has no idea how to navigate this truth. When she recognizes something of herself in her rebellious student Abigail, she reaches out in a moment of vulnerability that sets the novel’s events in motion.
Abigail, meanwhile, is navigating the treacherous waters of high school while dealing with parents who have rejected her and finding shelter with her older sister Jennifer. Despite projecting an armor of indifference and caustic wit, Abigail reluctantly begins guiding Erica through the basics of transition—from nail polish to hormone therapy—while insisting they aren’t friends.
St. James writes with remarkable insight about the complex emotions that accompany self-discovery. In one particularly affecting scene, Erica examines herself in the mirror after removing her mustache:
“She swiped away the steam on the bathroom mirror. For a moment, she could imagine that she was the person she was. The real version of her didn’t have a mustache, so now she didn’t either. Seeing her lip so bare sent tingles through her, like a foot that had fallen asleep slowly waking up but for one’s entire identity.”
These small, private moments of awakening provide Woodworking with its emotional core and universal resonance.
Strengths That Shine
1. Authentic, Multifaceted Characters
St. James excels at creating characters who feel fully realized beyond their identity markers:
- Erica struggles not just with gender dysphoria but with professional anxieties, romantic complications, and a profound loneliness that preceded her self-recognition
- Abigail balances teenage rebellion with genuine pain, using her sharp tongue as both weapon and shield
- Brooke Daniels, a character whose storyline emerges in the second half, provides a fascinating contrast to the journeys of Erica and Abigail
Supporting characters are equally well-drawn, from Constance (Erica’s ex-wife) to Megan (Abigail’s friend and the student organizer of “Students for Democracy”) to Helen Swee (a political candidate challenging anti-trans legislative efforts).
2. Masterful Dialogue
The dialogue in Woodworking crackles with authenticity—particularly Abigail’s profanity-laden retorts that hide deeper vulnerabilities. St. James captures the rhythms of teen speech without resorting to clichés, and the verbal sparring between characters reveals as much as it conceals:
“We’re not friends. So it’s all right,” Abigail says, but the novel shows us how her eyes communicate something else entirely.
3. Emotional Intelligence
Perhaps the novel’s greatest strength is its emotional intelligence. St. James understands that coming out isn’t a single event but a process—one that each person navigates differently. Some characters embrace their identities openly, others create elaborate architectures of denial, and many exist somewhere in between.
The novel refuses simple categorizations or moral judgments about these different paths. Even characters who make harmful choices are rendered with compassion and complexity.
Areas for Improvement
Despite its considerable strengths, Woodworking occasionally stumbles:
- Structural pacing issues: The novel’s middle section lags slightly, with some scenes feeling repetitive as characters circle similar emotional territory.
- Political context: While setting the story against the 2016 election provides a meaningful backdrop, some of the political discussions feel less organically integrated than the personal narratives.
- Resolution timing: The resolution of certain storylines—particularly Brooke’s—feels somewhat compressed compared to their setup, although the emotional impact remains powerful.
- Occasional didacticism: Rare moments of explanatory dialogue about transgender experiences sometimes break the otherwise natural flow of conversation, though these instances are minimal.
Thematic Richness: “Woodworking” as Metaphor
The novel’s title refers to “woodworking”—disappearing into the woodwork, a term some trans people use to describe living stealth (without revealing their transgender status). This central metaphor allows St. James to explore profound questions:
- What do we gain and lose by hiding parts of ourselves?
- Is invisibility safety or erasure?
- Can we truly connect with others when we’re concealing fundamental truths?
Through three distinct trans feminine perspectives—Abigail’s defiant visibility, Erica’s tentative emergence, and Brooke’s decades of secrecy—the novel examines these questions without prescribing simple answers.
Beyond Representation: Universal Resonance
While Woodworking offers a valuable window into specific transgender experiences, its themes resonate far beyond these identities. The novel speaks powerfully to universal human concerns:
- The search for authentic selfhood
- The fear of rejection and the courage to risk it
- The healing power of friendship and community
- The challenge of claiming one’s truth in hostile environments
This universality, combined with St. James’s precise, empathetic prose, makes Woodworking accessible and moving for readers of all backgrounds.
Literary Context and Significance
Woodworking joins an emerging canon of nuanced transgender fiction by authors like Torrey Peters (Detransition, Baby), Imogen Binnie (Nevada), and Casey Plett. What distinguishes St. James’s contribution is her focus on intergenerational connections between trans women, as well as her exploration of rural and small-town settings often overlooked in LGBTQ+ literature.
The novel also engages thoughtfully with American literary traditions. Its rural Midwestern setting evokes Willa Cather, while its small-town dynamics recall Sinclair Lewis (whom the author explicitly references). The production of Thornton Wilder’s Our Town that runs throughout the narrative provides another layer of American dramatic context.
Final Assessment
Woodworking is a remarkable debut that balances the specificity of transgender experiences with universal questions about identity, connection, and belonging. Through her sharply observed characters and emotionally resonant prose, Emily St. James has crafted a novel that instructs without preaching and moves without manipulating.
The book’s greatest achievement may be its refusal to provide easy answers. Characters make mistakes, grow in unexpected ways, and sometimes fail to grow at all. The novel recognizes that coming into one’s identity—whatever that identity may be—isn’t a single moment of revelation but a lifelong process of becoming.
While not without flaws, Woodworking marks St. James as a significant literary voice with important insights to share. Her writing demonstrates both technical skill and emotional wisdom, suggesting a bright future for this talented novelist.
For readers seeking fiction that balances cultural relevance with literary merit, Woodworking offers a rich, rewarding experience that lingers long after the final page.
