On the Presumed Heterosexual Cisgender Audience and Writing LGBT Romance

This whole argument that only straight cisgender women write and read LGBT romance needs to stop.

First of all there is no evidence that this is true, there has never been any widespread surveys done on either the readership or writers of LGBT romance. The largest statistical survey of romance readers was done by Romance Writers of America, and did not include data on sexual orientation or gender identity. Small survey attempts have been limited and inconclusive. While anecdotal evidence would call a cishet majority into question.

Therefore the assumption that any branch of LGBT romance is prominently written/read by straight cisgender women is questionable at best.

And here is the thing, the vast majority of the time when this assumption is brought up it is in the context of shutting down conversations about diversity, GLBT politics, representation, fetishization, sexism and racism within romance.

Usually this argument goes "well this is what sells because this is what these cisgender heterosexual women want to read. I wish it were different but if you want to sell books you just have to put your ideals aside and get back to writing bare-chested firefighters."  This is a problem because it supports the status quo and shuts down important conversations that need to happen. It also paints cisgender, heterosexual writers and readers in the worst possible light, as more interested in getting off than being allies.

Over the last three years that I have been actively writing in the romance genre I've come to the conclusion that this argument and assumption just needs to end. Whether or not it is based in any kind of statistical reality, we need to stop relying on it.

Not only does it shut down important conversations that need to happen but it also automatically assumes LGBT people are outsiders in a genre that deals primarily with representing them. It also assumes that the most important voices in the LGBT romance community are cisgender heterosexual ones.

For instance a lot of m/m romance publishers assume their readers and authors will mostly be cisgender heterosexual women with some gay cisgender men thrown in and the language they use reflects this. A lot of presses that started out as het romance publisher and have since branched into GLBT romance also use language that presumes cisgender heterosexuality. As does some presses that started out as m/m romance presses and became GLBT romance presses. Review blogs that started out or focus on m/m romance also often uses language rooted in this assumption. As does a lot of general romance, m/m romance or LGBT romance blogs.

Language is important. Inclusive language is something I look for when trying to tell if a publisher, blog or community will be welcoming and safe for me as a queer author and queer person. It doesn't really matter how many rainbows you plaster onto your website, if you participate in homophobia awareness events, or post lots of pictures of gay men kissing. If the language used is homophobic, transphobic or reads like this is a cishet only clubhouse it's going to give me pause. Or it may make me back off and not want to be part of that space all together.  

For instance when I first came into the m/m romance community the phrase "chicks with dicks" was used a lot. Publishers used it, reviewers used it, authors used it. Now I've been in fandom, I've written fanfiction, I know that's where it comes from. On the other hand the phrase itself is incredibly sexist, marginalizes both cis and trans effeminate men and vilifies trans women.

Right from the beginning it's common use make me, as a effeminate trans dude, extremely uncomfortable, and made the space of m/m romance seem unwelcoming and unsafe for someone like me. Luckily people began to voice concerns with it's use, as did I once I was no longer a newbie, and it has since widely stopped being used. But these kinds of language choices that actively marginalize LGBT authors and readers should not be a part of the LGBT romance community at all.

What would cut down on these kinds of language issues I think is if publishers, reviewers, bloggers and authors would stop assuming a cisgender heterosexual majority.

I truly don't think right now the majority of publishers expect all or even the bulk of their authors to be GLBT identified. I think their language reflects this and because for most LGBT people being cautious is a matter of safety, it becomes self-fulfilling. On the other hand I've watched publishers who changed their language to become more inclusive and emphasized a full spectrum of LGBT romance gain dozens of GLBT identified authors.

This doesn't just go for publishers but for writers too. Take that whole narrative of straight cis women liking sexy men and two sexy men being better than one, put it in a box and bury it in the backyard. Because when we write romance novels about queer people assuming our audience is completely or mostly cisgender heterosexual we run the risk of doing several things that are kind of a problem.

First Othering and alienating actual queer people and queer experiences. By assume your readership is straight than you can more easily end up having a large part of your romance being about explaining what it's like to be queer to people who have never had that experience. Which says to those of us who live with those experiences everyday 'this book isn't meant for you.'

In fact there is an unfortunate tendency within contemporary gay romance to 'explain' to the readers that not all gay men are music theater loving hairdressers. It is not something any queer person needs to be told and quite frankly shouldn't be something straight people need to hear either.  Yet it is so common multiple queer romance authors, completely independent of each other, have come up with special terms to refer to it. Laylah Hunter calls it the "Broadway musical moment."

Reading something like this pulls me out of the story and tells me I am reading something that isn't for me despite the fact that it is supposed to be about me. It feels like I've just walked into some straight fantasy of what my life should be like instead of representing any kind of reality I inhabit.

Which brings me to the second risk of writing LGBT romance for a presumed straight heterosexual audience, you become much more likely to fetishize queer people. Because queer people in stories aimed at cishet people are often not reflective of queer experiences or exploring queerness, they become much more of an exotic subject for people to live out their fantasies through. They become objects usually only defined by their sexuality and physical attractiveness.

Consider these very common statements:
The only thing better than one hot men is two hot men having sex with each other.
Why would I want to read a gay romance about men who aren't hot?
Why would I want to read a sex scene if there's no dick?
The reason straight women like gay romance is because straight women like dick.

The accusation of fetishization gets thrown around the m/m romance community a lot, and often in pretty sexist, and even transphobic/homophobic ways. BUT it is important I think for straight cisgender readers and writers to think very critically about the way they talk about queer bodies and queer sexualities within this community.

I am not saying this always happens when gay romance or any other kind of LGBT romance is written for a cisgender heterosexual audience. But it is a lot easier to reduce a gay couple down to the fantasy of two hots guys, a lesbian couple to two hot chicks, and trans people into sexual fetishes when you assume the actual people represented will not be the primary audience for these books.  

Speaking directly to a queer audience will limit the amount of time a writer will spend describing queer identity and queer bodies as strange, exotic or Other. It also becomes a lot harder to fall into the trap of dehumanizing a gay, lesbian or otherwise queer couple, if you write with the intention that the majority of readers will be themselves queer.

I also think speaking directly to a presumed queer audience will encourage cisgender, heterosexual authors to police themselves, and think critically about their internalizing homophobia, transphobia and their privilege. 

Another issue with a presumed heterosexual cisgender audience is that it puts pressure on out queer authors to write about queerness in certain ways that might not feel authentic or only write about say, gay men, rather than queer women or nonbinary people. It also teaches a heterosexual readership that they can demand certain things from queer authors and are entitled to get them. That if there is queer romance authors writing LBGT romance our experiences and our voices must always come second to heterosexual cisgender voices and experiences.  

I can't count how many times I've been told or watched queer author friends be told "all gay romance is written by straight cisgender women for straight cisgender women." Thus denying the identities and very existence of all queer authors, privileging straight authors over queer ones, books written for straight readers or queer ones, and stopping conversations about queer voices within LGBT romance from even happening.

I don't know how many times I've voiced my opinion as a queer trans person only to be told "Yes, but most readers are ..." the heterosexual cisgender majority myth again. The assumption is this is the voice with the buying power, thus this is the voice we should be listening to. The reality being cishet comfort or personal taste is privileged over queer experiences and opinions.

This is how I ended up being lectured by a cishet man who was mad that I chose to write lesbian sex in a way different from what he found most appealing. Or how I get told that because cishet women don't like vagina I can't write about trans men and call it m/m romance. This is how the queer identities of a huge number of authors get erased every time the whole 'women can't write gay men' argument gets brought up.This is how we end up with situations where trans authors are forced to 'prove' they are not really 'women pretending to be men.'

In fact the whole controversy around trans men as characters gay romance does not stem from all straight cisgender women (or cisgender gay men) being against trans inclusion. But because the ones that are know that their voices will be privileged because they are automatically assumed to speak for the majority.

read from the bottom up

Because this is the thing, queer people are actively oppressed by cisgender heterosexual society. Trans women are murdered, queer kids are forced to live on the streets, queer women are raped, people loose their jobs, their homes and their families because of homophobia and transphobia. That is the reality of the world we live in.

LGBT people don't have adequate representation, they don't get to see themselves heroes, don't get to see themselves has being deserving of happy healthy relationships, or non-judgmental partners, they don't get happy endings.

That's what romance brings, a chance for LGBT people to see themselves reflected in narratives that aren't solely tragic.

What kind of an industry are we to turn around and cynically say "but you don't matter. It isn't about you, or your happiness, or your pleasure." Because that what is really being said when someone says  "our readership is cisgender heterosexual so this is the way things need to be" instead of talking about issues of diversity, fetishization, and language. 

It says, we know these books are supposed to be about your but your not as important as the presumed cishet readership.

 LGBT romance needs to first and foremost be about LGBT people. Even if we were to one day do a wide spread comprehensive survey and find that the majority of LGBT romance readers are indeed cisgender heterosexual people that shouldn't matter.

We cannot continue to write, publish, market and form communities under the assumption of a heterosexual cisgender majority. Because when we do we assume heterosexual cisgender needs and opinions come first, they carry the most power, they count for more. We should never ask or expect queer authors to cater their narratives to a cishet audience.

We can no longer continue this behavior where we hold the specter of a heterosexual cisgender readership over the heads of authors who want to write alternative kinds of queer bodies, transgender characters, non-penetrative sex or even female characters.

We can not privilege cisgender heterosexual voices, desires and tastes over queer authors, readers and politics.

We cannot say "all LGBT romance authors and readers are straight cisgender" and erase the queer identities of the authors (especially female authors) already working in these communities, the readers already buying our books. 

Why I Use 'Non-Binary'

I have been involved with several discussions about trans vs. trans*, genderqueer, non-binary as terms to refer to people who do not identify with gender normative maleness or femaleness.

Some people who do identify this way feel strongly that trans should be the only term used. That by using different words like trans*, genderqueer, non-binary we a) reinforce a gender binary and b) buying into the term trans only being for binary transgender folks.

Mostly recently I was told off for using 'trans/non-binary' because, according to that person, making a distinction between trans and non-binary assumed there was a gender binary.

The thing is, as much as I wish it were otherwise, that assumption has already been made. Our society functions on an assumed gender binary. The very concept of heteronormativity and assigning someone a gender at birth depends on it.

Refusing to acknowledge something -- even a wrong something -- does not make it go away. In fact in the case of the gender binary we've seen the very opposite to be true. Not talking about, acknowledging or questioning it is the very thing that allows society's concept of a gender binary to hold so much sway. By taking away language for talking about the people outside of it, we take away some of our power to address and critique it.

I also know how it feels when a transgender person says that trans can only be used by transgender people who understand their identity in a very specific way. I know the feeling of having your identity denied by the entire world, only to have it denied again by the community that should support you. I know how it feels to have other trans people tell you that you are not trans enough or even that your identity is somehow transphobic. I totally support those people who's response to that is to grab hold of 'trans' and refuse to let go. I may in fact at this point count myself among those people. But I know that's not everyone's reaction and there are still people who need/want other words.

I am pro people using trans with or without the asterisk as an umbrella terms for all none cis people.  I am also for people who do not identify with a binary gender identifying as trans. I just think we make more problems than we solve by erasing all other possible words. We also run the risk of erasing words people might identify with just because we, ourselves do not identify with them.

I personally have a long and complex history with using the term 'trans' as applied to myself. Although I am becoming increasingly more prone to using it I usually do making the distinction that I am a trans, non-binary individual. And there has also been long stretches of my life where I've been far, far more comfortable self-identifying as genderqueer, non-binary or trans*. Not because I want to enforce the idea that trans can only be used by binary transgender people, say that there is only one way of being transgender, or enforce society's, very harmful, notion of a gender binary. Instead my use of these words comes from my own (and ever changing) relationship to my body, my gender and language in general.

Bottom line is I do tend to use trans/non-binary when referring to the full spectrum of none cisgender people and will probably continue to do so. Because I think trans as a term is important but I want to be sensitive to the large portion of the population who are not cisgender but do not identify themselves as trans either.

Why Is Lesbian Romance So Unpopular When Compared to Gay or Straight Romance?

I've thought about this a lot. I've written both gay and lesbian romance and although my lesbian romance gets far better reviews and nominated for far more awards I don't sell as many copies. Period. People aren't as interested in reading it. Even when I do give-always people are far more likely to want a copy of my gay romance novella than my lesbian romance novella.

A lot of people say romance readers are straight women so of course they are naturally going to be more interested in books with hot men. I think that is the easiest, least complicated, least threatening way of looking at the issue though.

I also don't really buy it, never have. 

What i really think is that women have a hard time thinking about women; about female bodies, female sexuality and female characters in general.   

Our society tells us female sexuality is dirty, wrong and shameful. Always. It tells us the female body is only ever not shameful or acceptably sexual when a man is looking at it. When a woman looks at herself, she is conditioned to only see the flaws, only see the ways she isn't attractive, only feel ashamed. 

In her article about why female fans hate female characters more than male characters "For All the Women I Have Loved Who Were Dragged Through the Mud"  Aiffe writes:

"Women project the standards society has put on them. If they’re told they’re annoying for talking about their feelings, they’ll think other women are annoying when they talk about their feelings. It’s a continuous cycle of policing. I think there is a certain degree of truth to this. Women absorb the social rules of what women are and aren’t allowed to be (spoiler: it’s all contradictory and we’re not allowed to anything) and judge other women by those rules. She’s annoying when she speaks, her voice is too shrill, she’s too meek and quiet and passive, she’s too rude and direct."

I think for a lot of women reading lesbian romance makes them have to confront their own anxieties and insecurities about their bodies and their sexualities as well as other women's bodies and sexualities. 

If both of the main characters are women and you find yourself having a negative reaction to them or to their gender and sexuality, you might find yourself questioning why? Is it something about you? Something about them? Something about women in general? It might make you stumble upon a whole new level of internalized misogyny you didn't realize you had.

That can be deeply frightening and off-putting. Not something a lot of people want when reading a romance novel.

It is so much easier to think about male bodies and male sexualities which are constructed as natural, normal and overwhelmingly positive. Sexualized cisgender male bodies are not associated with the same kind of body policing or shaming (this isn't actually completely true for all men but generally the kinds of men who are policed and shamed don't get romance novels written about them even in m/m romance) that sexualized female bodies are.

I think this is also where some of the backlash against 'strong female characters' comes from. Anytime this subject get's brought up in the writing community someone always pops up (almost always a woman) to tell me "not all women are strong" and "we need to write stories about non-strong women too." It has happened so frequently at this point that I think it's moved past the point of critiquing the way Hollywood has constructed "the strong female character" (which I think genuinely does need to be critiqued). The conversation is hardly ever framed as "the way the Strong Female Character is constructed in say Hollywood  action films or the fantasy genre is problemtic" instead it it almost always portrayed as "strong women as characters are problemtic." This distinction has caused me to wonder if a lot of women get triggered by any kind of talk of strong female characters because they themselves don't feel strong or don't consider themselves strong and its anxiety inducing for them to have what makes a woman 'strong' talked about at all. 

In the same way I think for a lot of women it's triggering to see women portrayed as confident and sexual without having men involved. It brings up, all of their own insecurities about their bodies and their sexualities. It highlights all of the ways they've been told that they are bodies aren't good enough and their sexual desires are wrong without the 'safe space' of a male body or male sexuality to retreat to. 

But there is also I think another layer to the question of lesbian romance vs. gay romance and why one is so much more popular than the other.

I also think it also has to do with the way (white, cisgender, able bodied, middle class) gay male identity is portrayed in the media and in Western society. 

Because m/m romance does better than lesbian romance, and bisexual romance, and trans* romance. It just does better period. Also in the m/m romance community the men being represented are almost always in white, able bodied, middle class men who conform to a normative standard of physical male beauty. There aren't a whole lot of chubby guys in m/m romance, disabled guys, working class guys (unless he is falling for a millionaire in which case the class problem will be 'fixed' by the end of the book when he marries into privilege.) Gay guys of color are often not represented and forget about trans guys. That can't be a coincidence.

 In his article "The Myth of the Fag Hag and the Dirty Secrets of the Gay Male Subculture" Rohin Guha writes:

"Popular culture was teaching newly-out gay men that they could be welcomed into the heteronormative fold so long as they shoehorned themselves into these pre-approved [media constructed] molds of gay male identity. " 

Basically he argued that the media and society has created a gay identity that is acceptable and non-threatening to heteronormative culture. These are the kinds of gay characters even otherwise homophobic Americans enjoy seeing as bit roles in tv shows like Will & Grace.  

Lisa Duggan has pioneered the concept of homonormativity which is:

"a politics that does not contest dominant heteronormative assumptions and institutions, but upholds and sustains them, while promising the possibility of a demobilized gay constituency and a privatized, depoliticized gay culture anchored in domesticity and consumption"  [1] (emphasis mine) 

Of course this heteronormatively acceptable homosexuality or homonormativity is really only available to white, cisgender gay men who conform to the acceptable stereotypes of a gay man. But these 'acceptable types of gay masculinity' are exactly what the overwhelming majority of m/m romance novels promote. They are comfortable and non-threatening images of gayness easily consumed by an audience that might even be, in many ways, homophobic. People can feel good about being "supportive allies" to the GLBTQ community through consuming these images of very normative white, able bodied young men. Whiles these images also mean that they never have to question any of the deeper homophobic, biphobic or transphobic views they might still hold.[2]

                                                               

Lesbian or other queer women on the other hand, along with any and all trans* people and QPOC, are still threatening to heteronormativity. These unacceptable forms of queerness are just not as easy or comfortable for a large part of a wider Western audience to consume.

I think that, coupled with a lot of the internalized anxiety and shame women feel about female bodies and female desires, makes lesbian romance or romances that depict queer women significantly less popular.     

----

Thank you to everyone who read over this first and encouraged me to post it. 

1. Luibhéid, Eithne.  "Queer/Migration: An Unruly Body of Scholarship."  GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies, Volume 14, Number 2-3, 2008, pp. 169-190 (Article) Published by Duke University Press

2. this needs to be an article in and of itself but I haven't written it yet, because it would involve a long discussion of the hierarchy within gay politics, assimilation, and representation.  

Let's Talk Sex: buying a pack and play realistic dildo

Recently I purchased a "Bendable Bobby"(name given by the manufacturer) or a "Otto"(name given by the retailer) realistic pack and play dildo.

I had originally just wanted a realistic dildo not a pack and play since I, well, often don't pack and play. Plus I already have a packer I like just fine. I very rarely have any money to spend on toys though and so I went with my cheapest option for realistic dildos. It turned out my cheapest option was the Otto pack and play.

Since I try to support small/feminist/queer run sex shops as much as possible I bought my new dildo from Early To Bed's online store.

I had originally seen an add for Early To Bed, a small feminist sex shop in Chicago, on Oh Joy Sex Toy one of my all time favorite webcomics.

It turned out buying from Early To Bed was a great experience. I had originally clicked on the option to picking up the dildo at their store, instead of having them ship it to New York, by mistake. They emailed me with a very friendly and personal reminder when the dildo came into the shop and I explained that I needed it shipped. They told me no problem, shipped it right out and I literally got it the next day. They were friendly, helpful and professional through the whole thing.

They say that "Early to Bed is committed to helping people of all genders and orientations explore their sexuality to the fullest" right up front on their website. I like that they don't hide the fact that they market to the trans* male community.

I was also impressed by the dildo itself. The Otto is $20.00 from Early To Bed. That is extremely cheap for a sex toy so I had pretty low expectations when it came. Otto or "Bendable Bobby" is a lot better of a toy than I was expecting though.

It's a nice size dildo, 6 insertable inchs with a 1.5 width.  It is made out of PTE, which has that Cyberskin feel to, it with a solid bendable core and full balls. It is a pinky vanilla color which only looks realistic if your skin is undead-pale (luckily for me, mine is.)

Pack and play dildos are able to be bent into a down ward 'flaccid' position to pack into your trousers and give yourself a nice bulge. When it's time to have sex the pack and play can be bent back up into an erects position for blow jobs, penetration and what not.

Right now there is no perfect pack and play on the market. Although it is worth noting I have heard really good things about Silky and Shilo pack and play dildos. Even really good pack and plays will make you look half hard while you are packing with them and are less than perfect dildos for sex. So be aware that there will be flaws to any pack and play dildo you buy.

Early to Bed is pretty upfront about the cons when it comes to this particularly toy:
- The core is not attached to the back.

-PTE or any cyberskin like material dirties easily and is hard to clean well. Plus no one but the manufacture is a 110% sure what is in it. 

-this will probably not last as long as many other dildos.

-it only comes in the vampiric pale shade. So if you are not one of the living dead it will not match your skin color.

-its shape makes it a little awkward to use with a harness.   

Cons I noticed while using are:
-when you bend it the solid but flexible core makes a cracking noise. Which most people, I am guessing, do not want to hear coming from their dick.


-like all cyberskin toys it is nicely squishy but can also be a little tacky on the outside, which is why most people recommend brushing lightly with cornstarch.
 
-I had a hard time using this toy for anal penetration. It's a little soft I found. Even after prepping extensively, trying multiple positions and warming up with a larger and harder toy I still couldn't get it to work. People may have better luck using it for anal when there are two people involves to figure out the angle and positioning. But as far as solo play goes, it's not a great anal toy.

-you do need to store it in a sleeve or bag. If you leave it, say on the coffee table over night, without a sock then it will leave a stain on the surface of said coffee table (don't ask what is in it that leeches out and stains things)


The pros are:
it is extremely cheap

it has nice detailing of veins along the shaft and the head is well defined.

I enjoy the fact that it has balls

it bends a little when it penetrates to fit the contours of the inside of your body. 

it does have a nice squeezable texture in your hand while you're jerking it off.

My recommendation would be this: always use a condom.
Doesn't matter if you're using it for penetration or a hand job, just always cover it.
A condom will keep it clean.
It will allow you to use it to fuck both your, or a partner's, front vagina and ass.
A condom will allow it to safely be used by or on more than one person.
It will make it feel better/more realistic in your hand/mouth/hole.
It will also protect you and/or partner(s) against whatever sketchy chemicals may or may not be in it.

I not only use a condom on it every single time regardless of what I'm doing with it, but I also stretch the condom a little to cover part of the back so as little of my own skin comes into contact with the toy as possible. Better safe than sorry I say.

So yeah, bottom line is if you are looking for a realistic dildo or a pack and play and can afford a better one go for that. If you can't afford it then this is not a bad choice. In fact I've paid a lot more for a lot worse toys.

I was also extremely happy working with Early to Bed and will definitely be buying from them again. If you are in the Chicago area I would check them out, or keep them in mind for your online sex toy/supplies purchases.

Writing Romance and Talking About It: my perspective

First off in the last few weeks I have moved into a new (and nicer) apartment and started another day job that, while requiring a good amount of retraining, is looking like it will work out well for me.

I've been meaning to make a post to this blog and lately I've seen a bunch of people posting about the perannail question of why they write m/m romance or how they feel about telling other people what they write.

I've been mulling over writing about my experience with this issue for a while now so I thought I'd take the time to write about it here.

I know a lot of authors get questioned about why they write m/m romance (or f/f romance I assume) instead of heterosexual romance. For a lot of authors it is the gay aspect of their stories which make them hesitate to tell co-workers or family members about their books. Some authors have in fact found themselves in really serious trouble when outted, not because they write romance but because they write gay romance.

I however am in a completely different situation if not the exact reverse.

No one ever questions why I write m/m romance. No one. This is mostly because I very rarely frame myself as an author of only m/m romance. Although I do write things which fall into that genre, and considered myself part of that community I usually introduce myself as an author of queer or LGBTQA romance. I write about characters who fall all over the spectrum of queer and trans* experience. Also for my characters, as with most queer and trans* people, single identities tend to bleed into one another and be difficult to completely define with just one term.

And no one ever questions why I write almost exclusively about queer and trans* characters because I myself am queer. Not only do I identify as gay or queer, depending on who is asking, and am very out about this but I am also very obviously gender non-conforming in the way I present myself. Everyone expects me to write about queer characters and I think I would get more questions if I didn't. Further the group of people I tend to spent time with, even work with, is self selecting. If someone where to be homophic or transphobic to the point of calling me out over what I choose to write they would already be having a problem with me before we even got to the point of talking about books. 

So that part of the equation has never been a problem for me.

The romance element on the other hand has been difficult. Sometimes I hedge the question, and say I write LGBTQA speculative fiction or speculative fiction with strong romance subplots. Both of these answers are true but the fact remains the publishers I work with are romance publishers, my books are sold as romance novels.

In a lot of ways I enjoy writing romance. Sex and relationships, especially romantic relationships, are important to me and endlessly fascinating. While some of my favorite books don't have either I always kind of wished they did. I am a strong believer that just having sex or romance in a book will not automatically make it better. Taking the time to really think about these types of human connection and giving them the same amount of serious consideration as any other element of the characterization or plot though will definitely make a good story stronger. Not to mention when done well it can be amazing and fun to read about.

I have really enjoyed my time writing romance and hope to continue to do so.

I did not grow up reading romance though. I am not well versed in the history of more mainstream heterosexual romance. I have only a very basic grasp of the tried and true tropes that seem to have dominated the romance genre for the last sixty years or so.

I also am all too aware of the stigma attached to reading and writing romance. I know we, as romance authors, are considered the bottom of the barrel within genre fiction world. Writers of fantasy novel with women in chain mail bikinis on the cover get to go to bed secure in the knowledge that at least they are taken more seriously than romance authors are. I sometimes joke with my friend and family by wondering who gets less respect: comic book writers or romance authors?

Probably romance authors.

I have a friend who is in the process of doing a long-term academic study of the portrayal of rape in romance novels from the 1950s to the present. I always have to keep myself from cringing with more than a little bit of shame when she talks about her research with me. I tell myself that this is something all genres are dealing, that there are a lot of romance authors dealing critically and respectfully with the issue of sexual violence but that never stops me from feeling a little bit responsible. 

Some days I can feel pride about doing what I want to do and being the writing I want to be despite the stigma and low expectations, even because of them. Some days I just put my head down and say I write fantasy novels with queer characters.

I truly wish I could be one of those people who are proud of being a romance author, for whom the romance part wasn't at all problematic to admit to.

It is an ongoing process for me though.

Knitting The Doctor Who Scarf: planning

I have to admit I am a Classic Who fan. I mean I like the new series but I love the classic stuff. My favorite of the Doctors is the Fourth. I adore Tom Baker's style as the Doctor, that slightly crazy, slightly vague all around weird vibe he gives off. Of the Fourth Doctor's run, which is the longest to date, I love the early episodes the best the ones with Sarah Jane, because she is my favorite companion. One of the most iconic features of the Fourth Doctor is his scarf.

I've always wanted a scarf like the Fourth Doctor's but I never really thought about it seriously. Buying replicas of the scarf is extremely expensive and most of the time I struggle to pay my rent. Although I've known how to knit since I was eleven the scarf is about 12 feet long and that just seemed like too daunting a project.

This semester has been really tough for me though. I've taken a bunch of classes from demanding professors who are not in my field and as was to be expected I've struggled. Halfway through writing my finals I desided the time had come to knit the Fourth Doctor's scarf.


Over the course of the Tom Baker's long run as the Doctor the scarf took a lot of wear and changed. At one point a totally new scarf had to be made. So the scarf actually differed from season to season. Since my favorite season of the Fourth Doctor's were the first couple, seasons 12 and 13 technically, I decided to knit the incarnation of the scarf from the first season.

Having decided on the season 12's scarf I did a little research which brought my to the Doctor Who Scarf site. The site provided me with a pattern for knitting an exact (or pretty close) replica of the season 12 Doctor Who scarf.

Originally I assumed I would knit the scarf out of acrylic yarn. The original scarf was knit out of wool but I, being the poor grad student that I am, thought I'd only be able to afford acrylic yarn. Since then my sister has decided enough yarn to make a Doctor Who scarf would be the perfect Holiday gift so I will be knitting it out of wool (and pretending that I'm surprised when I open my present.)

The problem I'm grappling with right now is how to shorten the scarf for me.

The original scarf was 12 feet long. Tom Baker is 6 foot 3 inches and the scarf could loop around him down to the ground twice.  I am 4 foot 11 inches tall and I'm pretty sure I can't physically wear a 12 foot scarf. So I've been trying to figure out how to shorten it without ruining the integrity of the original scarf. If I just stopped knitting two feet before the pattern then it would be a different scarf probably closest to season 14 not the season 12 scarf I want to knit. All of the stripes are different sizes so I'm having trouble trying to figure out how to lessen the strip width evenly through-out the entire scarf. If I was just knitting a scarf to have a scarf that would be one things but this is a replica so it needs to be more exact.

Any ideas about how I could do this?

National Coming Out Day: Or Confessions of a Queer Butch Who Writes M/M Romance

So I am a female-bodied masculine of center person who generally goes by labels like "queer" and "butch" within the LGBTQ community and just "gay" to my coworkers and mom's friends. Throughout my adult life I've dated people who identify as women and gay women at that.

Yet I write predominantly m/m romance.

I struggle a lot with this because I know I'm not the only queer person or gay woman to write m/m romance yet the overwhelming view of the genre is that it is completely straight women with a few gay men. I mean that makes sense, why would hot and heavy sex scenes which rely heavily on the appreciation of the male form be written by lesbians? Especially the way western society constructs what it means to be a lesbian.

I know for me the answer to that questions is simple: there is a big difference between my sexual fantasy and my lived reality. Lots of things I enjoy reading, writing and fantasizing about do not and should not have a place in my real life. Take my ongoing and deep-abiding love of tentacles and tentacle sex for instance, never going to happen, never want it happen, but boy do I love reading and writing about it.

So for me the question of why I write m/m romance and erotica is not as troubling as why I don't write more lesbain romance and erotica. For me as well there is a lot of guilt, good lesbian romance and erotica is in the vast minority as compared with its male-centered counterparts and if I am going to have a stake in writing anything it should be that. Or at least that's how I feel more often than not. The truth is that while I do write lesbian romance, I write much, much more m/m romance.

There is also a fear in the back of my mind that I write about men more than women because of my own internalized misogyny that tells me that writing about men is better than writing about women. I have no good answer or way to assuage that fear.


Then again I think that there is also a part of me which is too close to the queer female experience and community. Whenever I sit down to write a lesbian romance I am always caught up in the flood of queer politics: what it means to represent X character this way instead of that way, or making sure my femme characters act like Y and not X so I don't support Z view of what it means to be femme. That's not good story telling, that's in-group political thinking. On the other hand this is a group I've been intimately a part of since I first came out to myself in my late teens. I'm not as familiar with what it means to be a gay man. In some ways I think that actually helps and makes me feel freer to just write the just story and not the politics.

I think also the female form, especially in sexual situations, is more scrutinized and I am aware of that. There is so much literature and debate on how to represent a woman sexually in a positive way or if that is even possible. Which leaves me with an entire folder on my computer of lesbian WIPs where the politics literally swallowed the storyline.

None of these issues help sooth the guilt I feel for not writing more lesbian romance, and none of them make the cultural misogyny theory any less likely. These issues are definitely what comes to mind though as I turned over the question of why would a queer woman write more m/m romance than lesbian romance? I just wish I could be the kind of writer who shrugs and says "I write about gay/bi/pan men because that's who my characters are" and is okay with that answer. 

Either way I am a queer butch writer who writes m/m and lesbian romance and most of the time I'm okay with that. 

I'm Doing Okay ...

I'm visiting my sister who is expecting her first child and it occurred to me while sitting with her and hanging out that I'm actually really happy where I am in my life right now. I'm going to be living on my own again this summer which will be good for me having my own space again. I will be going to graduate school in the field that I love. I am writing everyday now and working through the process of publishing and I love both of those things just as much as I had hoped I would.

It feels like this year a whole bunch of things I really wanted to do with my life and hadn't gotten done have fallen into place. My life is just kind of slotting together into something really wonderful and that I'm really happy in. I'm active in my religious community still but not to an overwhelming level. I'm happy with my appearance more then I've ever been, I think. I find myself more attractive and more just really me every day.

I'm worried about money, I'm worried about finding a job and that school will be overwhelmingly difficult. I also feel like though that the last couple years have been a process of getting myself to this point of being exactly where I want to be.

Hopefully from here things will only continue to get better.

On sex ... and gender!

I am not kidding when I say that I find incredibly esoteric and specialized porn to be one of the most life-affirming things in the world. Even… no, especially the stuff that doesn’t do anything for me. Every giantess crush site, every furry vore gallery, every Shintaro Kago shit-and-dissection-fest, every body-inflation discussion group, every set of specialized apron-fetish films, every dendrophile fan club, every time I learn a new word like “boytaur” or “OT3″ or “docking” or “unbirth”… all these things bring me a genuine and unironic joy. These things, these kinks, these flights of imagination, are the impassioned obsessions of real people, everyday people. At least one of your coworkers, at least one of your family members. And that’s not creepy, that’s wonderful. Every one of those weird kinks is a shout of human individuality in a world that wants to reduce us down to buying patterns and demographic trends.

Why I Love Weird Porn | No, Seriously, What About Teh Menz?

Our culture expects women’s – and men’s – bodies to be a certain way. People are very invested in the idea that Men Look Like This and Women Look Like That and Never the Twain Shall Meet. Well, guess what? Nature doesn’t give a fuck about your sexual binary. Nature puts us together in a million different ways – actually, about seven billion, give or take a few hundred thousand – and a lot of us are going to walk that imaginary line. There are going to be short, hairless men with high voices and tall women with deep voices and people who are intersexed in a bunch of different ways, and here’s the great thing – it’s all okay. Every single one of us. There’s not a thing wrong with any of us.

The misgendering of Brittney Griner « Fit and Feminist

Most people find it difficult to grasp that whatever they like to do sexually will be thoroughly repulsive to someone else, and that whatever repels them sexually will be the most treasured delight of someone, somewhere. One need not like or perform a particular sex act in order to recognize that someone else will, and that this difference does not indicate a lack of good taste, mental health, or intelligence in either party. Most people mistake their sexual preferences for a universal system that will or should work for everyone.

Gayle Rubin, “Theory of the Politics of Sexuality”

We Are The Youth

Hey all,

We Are the Youth is a photograph journalism project about GLBTQ people in their mid-teens to mid-twenties. The project has mostly focused on the East coast (mostly New York State actually since that's where bot the photographer and interviewer live) but it seems really interesting with some lovely portrait photographs and short biographical stories about the different people. The stories are short and written as they were narrated to the interviewer. Often they are about being gay or trans but not always.

check it out.

2010 places on the net that were (and I hope will continue to be) important to me: Here are some of the high lights.

* I added a Not Safe For Work warning next to a few of these. But really guys, if you work in a place where you have to be careful what you look at what are you doing reading my blog at the workplace? Use your heads.

Genderfork NSFW

Genderfork is just a beautiful place to be. It’s created to be a positive place to embrace and celebrate the gender diversity in our world. It always makes me smile because I know there will always be something cool/beautiful/uplifting posted there. I’m used to being different for so many different reasons but sometimes I get tired when there is no one around me who is even a little bit similar to me. When I go to Genderfork I can remind myself that I’m not the only one who doesn’t fit the norms and that isn’t always a bad thing.  

Dicebox NSFW

Dicebox is the only online comic I have consistently read since it started in 2002.  It’s just one of those things in my life that never changes. No matter what I’m going through or how my life is changing Jenn Manley Lee’s art will always be breathtakingly beautiful, the storyline of Dicebox nicely complex and the relationship between Molly and Griffen amusing. Besides this comic was where I learned about gender-neutral pronouns in more then a strictly theoretical way.

Ravelry

If you’re a knitter or crochet-er Ravelry is the place to be. I’m not a die hard knitter like my Mom but I have been known to knit a hat or two during long committee meetings. Ravelry is a little like Facebook in that you have a profile and you can join groups and talk to other knitters or crochet-doers (I’m not sure what to call you guys). They also have a huge search engine full of patterns, yarn stores, books, and supplies. If you want to know what other people are making out of that yarn you just got go on Ravelry. If you want to see if you can find a hat patter with ear flats that’s also free go on Ravelry. If you want to see pictures of what this patter is going to look like once you’re done and you don’t want to rely on the tiny black and white picture at the bottom of the patter go on Revelry. It’s just that cool.

Rooster Tails  NSWF

This is an incredibly adorable comic-blog by a transman and his genderqueer partner in New Zealand. I’ve loved every single entry so far and can empathize with it a lot. It’s not just how gender issues are talked about, but also the strips on anxiety, the X-Men, butch mice and sweater-vests make me glad I’m not the only one who thinks about these things.

Vegan Dad

I have to admit it I’m a little bit of a snob when it comes to cooking. I love to cook and part of my job these days is to cook. Which means that I just can’t turn off the at little voice in the back of my head that say “I could do better.” Vegan blog’s I’m particularly hard on. I’m always reading them and thinking, they could use less expensive ingredients or there is an easier way to do this, or but I can’t eat this and buy local at the same time. Vegan Dad’s blog isn’t like that though. It’s become one of my two go-to places for vegan cooking. Why because the recipe’s are easy, fast, cheep-er and delicious. I haven’t made a bad thing off of this site.

Male Submission Art NSFW

When I am an professional academic I study race, gender, sexuality as these concepts have changed over time. I’ve found that one of the best ways to do this is to study images that reflect societal ideas and ideals regarding any or all of these concepts. However, while there as been lots of brilliant work done on gender and race both in theory and in American society, there is not that kind of body of work on sexuality. When I say I study sexuality I mean not just sexual orientation but sexuality more broadly. My perception of academia is this is not widely encouraged. More over historical theory tends to look at sexualized images as strictly who is being oppressed by whom and how does this image support larger systems of procession. There is no or very little acknowledgement that an image might mean different things to different people and a sexual one doubly so. Male Submission Art has meant so much to me because for the first time I am presented with thoughtful commentary on what makes pictures sexual and to whom. I appreciate and respect the work being done by maymay, the site maintainer, immensely. I also find many of these images sexy or attractive myself which is rare when it comes to visual erotica.  

The lightning-powered airship "Golden Colander": The Art of Ursula Vernon (NSFW)

Hello all you fabulous beings!

Well through a post on a blog that I read which mentioned something about her I recently ran across the art of Ursula Vernon. I fell in love with it right away. When I was a undergrad in college, in the not so distant passed, her graphic novels Digger was quite popular among the geeks of which, lets face it, I am one. However I hadn't read any of her stuff at the time, being overcome with school work and all that. My loss it turns out. I love the whimsy of her work. I love how so much of it is at once so fantastical and so down to earth. Ursula is obviously one of those people who has figured out that the weird can be fun and that's ok. It doesn't have to have a deeper meaning but if it does that's ok too. Truthfully there isn't anything of hers, that I've seen, that I dislike but my two favorite art series by her are Weird Fruit and Phalloi.

 Weird Fruit is a series of painting of different anthropomorphized fruit and vegetables. I've never seen anyone who antrhopomorphized fruit to look like different kinds of animals but I love the idea of pears with teeth, or lemons with horns, eggplant with chicken legs and squash with bat wings. Weird Fruit indeed because let's face it the only thing weirder then a fruit or vegetable is an animal. These are definitely the prints I want in my kitchen.

Another series of paintings by Ursula Vernon is the series Phalloi. This was actually how I found Ursula's art in the first place when this series came up in a conversation between a bunch of people who wear, use and love packers. We were having a conversation about how they can be cute and someone mentioned Ursula's Phalloi paintings. The series was inspired by the Ancient Roman's who wore pendants of phalluses with wings or little feet for good luck. These good luck charms were worn by both men and women, old and young.

Penises are not often portrayed as cute or cuddly in our culture. Yet that's how Phalloi portrays them and I like that*.





*more of my thoughts on portrayals of masculinity later.