Interview: Alex DiFrancesco
Author of four books, editor, and wonderful friend on how they find hope in the current moment.
Alex and I first met at Annie Bloom’s bookstore in Portland almost ten years ago now. They were reading from Psychopomps, their first book, and I was the mom of a (maybe) trans kiddo. I loved Alex’s reading that night and once I had a manuscript Alex was the first person I contacted to do a “sensitivity read.” This was one of my most important steps in getting the book published. After that Alex became one of the book’s most ardent supporters and ended up acquiring it for Jessica Kingsley Press. Needless to say, it’s fitting to start my interview series with Alex! For writer friends out there, Alex does developmental edits of manuscripts. Run, don’t walk for their sensitive, encouraging, very smart support.
Alex DiFrancesco is a multi-genre writer and transmasc person (they/them) who is the author of Transmutation, All City, and Psychopomps. Their work has appeared in New York Times, Washington Post, The Guardian, Tin House, Pacific Standard, Eater, Brevity, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, and more. They are the winner of an Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award for 2022. Their novel All City was the first awards finalist by a transgender author in over 80 years of the Ohioana Book Awards. They formerly served as an assistant editor for Sundress Publications in Tennessee, and formerly edited LGBTQIA+ non-fiction for Jessica Kingsley Publishers. DiFrancesco lives in Philadelphia and is the human companion of a middle-aged, ill-mannered Westie named Roxy Music, Dog of Doom.
Cristina: It’s Pride month! Do you celebrate? If so, how? If you don’t celebrate Pride specifically, what is one way you keep joy alive during hard times?
Alex: Pride month used to be a huge thing for me. I'd organize around it, celebrate it, and have fun all month long. These days, I'm less outgoing about Pride month, and usually show up for one or two events. This year, I only walked through the parade and street party here in Philly for about half an hour before getting overwhelmed, but it was great seeing all the young people and older people in all thier finery, laughing, dancing, drinking, enjoying each others' company. Pride also feels dangerous now in ways it hasn't in my lifetime. I was at Pride the year that gay marriage passed, and thre was a feeling of victory after long struggle (even though marriage equality was still not and has never been truly for everyone) that is absent now. I found myself anxious about being in a crowded public space, with the possibility of violence being very real and even encouraged by those who would want us not to be out celebrating Pride. But in a way, this is a return to what Pride celebrations were built on -- our corageous joy in the face of violence and uncertainty. When I get worried about things like potential violence at Pride, or the way the government is repressing trans people, I think back to the origins of Pride -- to strong women like Marsha P. Johnson and Syvia Rivera, who lived with this danger every day, even within their own communities. I think how they fought for equality and didn't take scraps of it as victory. They kept fighting, even though they never saw equality in their lifetimes, and Johnson was allegedly murdered. When I think of the legacy of transness, these people are what gives me hope.
Cristina: We are six months into the current administration and on the cusp of hearing a decision from the US Supreme Court regarding gender affirming care bans for minors. What is top of mind for you about our current political moment? How does it impact you personally?
Alex: When I was growing up in rural Pennsylvania in the '80s and '90s, transness wasn't spoken of, except as a vicious joke. The thing I worry most about due to our current government's war on trans people is young people growing up with a return to this culture of silence. It was violent, and so many people ended up dying simply because they couldn't put words that made sense or reassured them of their normalcy on their experience. It nearly killed me, and I struggle with the after-effects of it to this day. Sure, I worry for myself and adults like me who are set in who we are and not going back to pretending to be people we're not -- will we be rounded up? Put in camps? Sent to deportation centers? All of this is terrifying. But mostly I worry about the trans babies never getting to have the language or the experience to match to their own experiences. If you can take away people seeing themselves in the world as thriving, happy, normal people, you can do a lot of damage.
Cristina: During a speech at the 2025 Peace Ball Angela Davis recalled Martin Luther King’s mindset about combatting oppression. She said, “we cannot capitulate to finite disappointments, and what we do is we confront those finite disappointments with infinite hope.” Infinite hope is a level of faith that I can only aspire to, but I do aspire. I’m wondering who or what sends your spirit in the direction of infinite hope?
Alex: Recently I've gotten back into the practice of community cooking. I (up until a few weeks ago when my schedule became more erratic) was cooking with a group that provides no-questions-asked food to anyone who wants it, as well as clean needs and Narcan to those struggling with addiction. We get together in a community kitchen and cook together, then the food is distributed around South Philly. I often bake banana bread (I'm mostly skilled in pastry-making) because it's inexpensive and tasty and everyone deserves a sweet treat with a meal if they desire one! The practice of feeding people has become the most important community work I do. Everyone needs to eat, no matter who they are. Everyone deserves to eat, no matter who they are. Food justice feels like real equality to me, a basic-level service that is an absolute necessity. Helping provide people with access to food feels more important to me than planning a march or a protest. Whenever I get down, I dive into this work.
Cristina: So many friends and families want to be good allies to the trans community. What is one action you’d ask allies to take to support the community during Pride month?
If you have the means, do consider donating to trans people's fundraisers. These are often a vital lifeline for the trans community, providing housing, access to gender affirming care, and basic necessities to people who struggle to attain these things every day. If you don't have the resources, sharing these fundraisers is also important. If you don't have a network online to share them with, something as small as being affirming in the langauge you use for trans people, lending a listening ear to a trans person's struggle, or just quietly correcting someone if they use the wrong name or pronouns for a trans person all make a huge difference. Basically, being a compassionate person is all we ask of anybody.