So I just finished rereading Shea Meiers’s The Wishing Box. It’s like a Christmas cookie, really, but better in that you can reread it as many times as you want.
And if you’re reading The Wishing Box, you might as well read Michelle’s Enchanted Grounds — it’s sweet in both the traditional sense and in the non-explicit sense (a few kisses, but nothing else).
As for me, I think I’m going to go work on my shy snake-boys story in hopes of giving it away for Pancha Ganapati.
Shea Meier posted the following:
Here's what I will do:
Write the characters I love, as human beings.
Tell the story that I meant to tell.
Do my best to make each voice authentic to the character I'm writing.
Here's what I won't do:
Use my sexuality as an excuse to write what I write.
Let someone else erase my sexuality or gender as a way to discredit what I write.
Stop telling the stories I want to tell because someone insists that I'm not queer enough.
Other than having trouble writing the story that I wanted/intended to tell on the first go-round, I am happy to point at this and say 'Me too!' None of us would be sitting here, discussing this, if our antecedents sighed and gave up the second someone else told them they couldn't do whatever it was they were thinking of doing.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write. I have a bunch of queer stories I really need to get finished some time before the turn of the century.