50 Shades of Double Standards

A few months ago I finished the first book in the 50 Shades trilogy. I couldn't stomach any more, not so much because of the content (television and movies have shown far worse) but because the writing is just plain bad.

I also found myself getting a little upset that many local libraries are bending over backwards to get more copies ordered, yet you'd be hard-stretched to find any GLBT fiction in their collections.

How is it a novel about a straight couple (not married nor planning to have a child) having all kinds of sex and kinky adventures can be all the rage on morning talk shows and on bestseller lists, but gay and lesbian fiction is still considered a "no no" in most mainstream bookstores and in many libraries? How is it Christian conservatives stay mum on things like this, but have a cow whenever the topic of gay marriage is brought up?

Recently, Kindle opened a whole new world to me of lesbian fiction, some of which is quality lesbian fiction, where there is genuine love and romance long before the women even consider a physical relationship.

When there's no one in your life to talk about certain topics (your straight friends say it's okay you're gay as long as you never talk about it) the right book can almost, no make that actually, save your life.

I like it when I see characters who feel like I do reflected in books (find it very helpful and healing) and though I'd prefer to find libraries carrying gay and lesbian fiction (there's certainly no shortage of violent crime novels, Zane books or other less than scrupulous subject matter at hand in them) I sigh and shrug and decide to buy my own. I'd rather make up the loss in my budget by skimping on food because books talk to me and food doesn't. Books help me feel less lonely and food does not. "Calories," as someone on my Twitter account recently tweeted,"do not heal heartache."

Books, I firmly believe, can! I find comfort in reading books by women who understand the emotions, heartache, romance and longing of being gay in a world that still has trouble accepting them.

I don't read lesbian fiction to be rebellious or to "sin,"  but to survive...because when you're surrounded by people who don't understand what it means to be gay, you can feel very lonely...

I don't write as much as I used to. It's funny how one thing leads to another. I got Invisalign braces back in December, discovered they did wonders for curbing my appetite, realized that (for me) watching tv is inevitably linked to wanting to eat so I stopped watching tv, except when I'm already in bed, ready to fall asleep.

All that open time where I no longer eat so much or watch tv has lead me back to reading passionately, whenever and wherever I can. I'd rather read than write, except when I'm troubled (writing is therapy) or excited (about a new book or song).

Tell The Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt is something to be excited about. On Twitter, lulu 34 writes: "Stop what you're doing and read Tell The Wolves I'm Home by Carol Rifka Brunt. This book DESTROYED me. All my tears."  

People magazine (often a great source for book reviews...I did not know this until recently) had this to say:

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Tell the Wolves I'm Home
by Carol Rifka Brunt

Remember how it felt to be 14? In this lovely debut novel set in the 1980s, Carol Rifka Brunt takes us under the skin and inside the tumultuous heart of June Elbus. Lonely at school and tormented by her older sister, June habitually vanishes into the woods near her suburban New York home to pretend she's living in the Middle Ages. "I look at everything-rocks, fallen leaves, dead trees-like I have the power to read those things. Like my life depends on understanding exactly what the forest has to say." Like most 14-year-olds, June is full of secret emotions too powerful to reveal-in particular, her "wrong" love for Finn, her uncle and godfather. An artist who has introduced his goddaughter to a world of beauty, Finn is gay, and dying of AIDS. Once he's gone, the grief-shattered June recklessly embarks on a new relationship that's just as obsessive, just as secret, and ends up shaking her family to its core. Distracted parents, tussling adolescents, the awful ghost-world of the AIDS-afflicted before AZT-all of it springs to life in Brunt's touching and ultimately hopeful book.
Reviewed by Helen Rogan

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I just finished this terrific novel called Holding On To Faith by Joy Argento. It's still deeply affecting me, largely because it's somewhat rare that lesbian fiction ever deals with religious reservations about being gay, especially with such sincerity and worry.

God knows I've spent most of my adult life going back and forth between wondering if it is wrong and firmly believing all love between consenting adults is perfectly natural. How wonderful it would be if there were absolutely, positively no stigma associated with being gay.

It would be so wonderful I can't even think about it without my whole heart pounding a mile a minute. The way the world could change for so many gay teens, singles and couples living in a world that still largely ostracizes them from socially acceptable love and marriage.

Joy Argento captures the magic and simple love between friends Faith and Sami so touchingly (their feelings for each are pure and loving long before they realize they have romantic and sexual longings as well) I had to put my ereader down a few times and bask in the beauty of it...I totally can relate to the deep and conflicting struggle between loving someone with all your heart and soul and suffering from thoughts and fears of losing your church, your family and your friends.

I like that it ends on a positive note with true love winning out; I just wish it could happen that way for everyone in real life!:)

Just now I went outside to take my huge Hefty bags to the dumpster. I live in a very quiet, well-kept apartment building where everyone is either over the age of 80 or single and always away on business trips...so to say it's quiet here is an understatement.

As soon as I got outside I was stunned to discover it was a nice, cool evening (it's been so hot all day) and that new neighbors were throwing a party. The smell of the barbeque and the sound of people genuinely laughing and having a good time reminded me that there is life teeming inside and immediately around this building, it just doesn't seem like it sometimes.

The other day I got in the elevator (determined to follow the "eyes forward, don't talk" etiquette I never seem to follow anywhere else) when I noticed a man in the corner. He seemed as surprised as I did.

"Wow," he began. "I honestly didn't think anyone else lived in this building." We both laughed and it was a nice moment.

The quiet around here is nice, especially when you're trying to get some sleep, but it can also be a bit disarming at times, like the end of the world happened and no one bothered to tell those of us left behind.

The new neighbors and their party was kind of reassuring:)