9-2-13 RMB Singing to the Choir

9-2-13 RMB Singing to the Choir

Dear Rita Mae Brown,

Today is Monday, also Labor Day. I woke early to walk and then dove into editing and revising America. My sister and I are invited to a holiday gathering. She went. Being alone with my story, America, is my favorite way to enjoy the holiday. I celebrate with words, finding peace in solitude.

A friend says I am preaching, or singing, to the choir, that the people who read my books will already be of the open minded sort. If my goal is to open minds, I need to be more subtle and mainstream.  

I get it. She’s right. I plan to write a lot, more stories simmer, waiting their turn patiently, and none are overtly lesbian themed, like America is.

The America story was a whim that took off charging along its own path and I’m enjoying the ride. Interestingly, there have been ten or more readers of book one that would not have picked up a book with this subject matter. All have asked to read book two…singing to the choir am I?

And, hey, doesn’t the choir need to be sung to once in a while, whatever one’s cause or mission might be? Camaraderie, support, connecting with those of a similar voice, I feel that is important. In our interaction, perhaps we can refine our voice, make it more palatable, give it clarity, enhanced with stories of life and love, it strengthens and expands.

Somewhere out there, is a person at this very moment reading a book, one that sings to the choir, and thinking Hey, this makes sense to me. As a teenager and on into my twenties, I felt quite open minded and secure in who I was, but very separate from the rest of the world…it would have been nice to have read something written by someone else that connected me to other members of our universe.

That was in the eighties. If I’d looked, I could have found something to read…I could have read Rubyfruit Jungle. I didn’t because the whole subject was that foreign. It wasn’t discussed among anyone I knew, not even between my two girlfriends and me. Yes, being especially reclusive, my ambition and drive were directed elsewhere. When you work 16 hours a day at two or three jobs, there’s no time for reading.

But if it were more prevalent, if there were more folks out there singing to the choir, if the choir’s voice reached further out, echoed louder, deeper, higher…stronger, if I couldn’t avoid tripping over it for goodness sake…I would have liked that.

I’m just sayin’,

Loraine