That’s “The End” in Spanish for those of you who don’t speak the language. 

I just finished the first draft of my fourth novel.  It’s still not edited, proposed, or even titled, but in so many ways this is the end.  The story is written, the characters developed, and the conflict resolved.  It’s a strange feeling.  You’d think I would be overwhelmed with happiness, but I’m really not.  I do feel a great sense of accomplishment.  I am proud of my work and of myself.  Tackling a novel is never easy. It’s work. It takes dedication and focus, and when I manage to do that I still feel like it’s quite an achievement.

Still, it’s kind of lonely here on the other side of the end.  These girls have been a huge part of my life for four months now.  I have wrestled with them, cried with them, laughed with them, and fallen in love with them.  So many of my waking hours have been spent with them, and for reasons I’ll go in to later, this main character has been more in my head and heart than any other I’ve ever written.  The mental conversations have been a constant in my life for months, and now the silence is more than a little disconcerting; it’s actually kind of lonely.  I miss these women already.

Still, I think it will ultimately be productive for me not to want this story to end because in so many ways El Fin is not the end here.  First of all, this book more than any other I’ve written shows potential to become a series, but that’s a whole other post entirely.  More immediate solace can be found in the fact that finishing the first draft is just a first step in the process.  I will now enter several intense rounds of edits.  The first part of this process will allow me to be almost as close to my characters as I have been over the past few months. I will do my own major comprehensive second draft, refining the characters and syncing up aspects of their personalities that developed in the later parts of the book, working on a consistent narrative voice, and ensuring plot continuity.   If possible I am going to get to know these girls even better.

So, tonight I will bask in the warm glow of my accomplishment, but I won’t drown in my loneliness, because while my connection to my characters is changing, it is not disappearing.  As with so many things, every end is really a new beginning.

In the meantime, here’s your very first sneak peek into the inspiration I used during this novel.  This is Miguel Bose’s “Sevilla.”  A big thanks to Carmen (aka Towanda) for introducing me to this song and this singer. I’d have never written this story without it.

Day Three in Ptown started the way every day should start:  Breakfast with Toni and her famous grits!  Seriously,  I know the best part of Ptown is the readers and writers and community and all that, but Toni and her grits are right up there.

Once we were fully fed we headed down Commercial street, where we ran in to a bunch of hoodlums, I mean authors, outside the Wired Puppy.  Imagine that, authors at a coffee shop.  Unheard of, right?

Jackson got to toss the ball with Lisa “I’m Gonna Bite Your Butt” Girolami, then it was off to the library for him while Mama and Aunt Nee Nee (Toni) headed off to Now Voyager.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with Now Voyager, you should be! It’s a fantastic little book store with a great owner (Thanks, Mark!), and odds are if you stop in there during Women’s Week you are going to find some authors signing, chatting, and goofing off.

Carsen Taite is doing the latter   I’m not sure what’s funnier here, the fact that Carsen is singing into a pen, or the fact that VK Powell is totally ignoring her.

Here’s a less vocal and yet equally fun group of Boldies during their signing time.  From the left, Anne Laughlin, Clara Nipper, Kim Baldwin and Xenia Alexiou (who is either looking at another camera of checking out some woman who just walked by).

Here’s a shot of Colette Moody totally striking a pose while Leslea Newman actually signs a book (imagine that!) for Chris, a professional stalker

Lurking off to the side there was Erin Dutton and Ali Vali, oh yeah,and that Alexiou character is still hanging around too.

After meeting Susie and Jackson for lunch and a little play time,I was shooed out of the condo for being too loud while Jackson took a nap.  Thankfully, one never has to be alone in during Wmen’s Week.  I was only out in town for a about ten minutes before I was picked up by Carsen Taite and her lovely partner, Lainey.  They took pity on me and fed me ice cream (A boi could use more friends like that).   Then while we were sitting there, another group of Boldies walked by including Ali Vali who was off to see Ptown’s new windmill.  How can one pass up something like that?

It was pretty cool, and it was nice to spend some time catching up with Ali while we walked along the pier.  The view is just too cool to capture on this tiny little computer screen, but I had to try.

Our little walk around Ptown ended up at Gabriel’s, where we were both scheduled to read as part of the BSB Finale along with a bunch of our friends and fellow authors. 

Clifford Henderson was our fabulous moderator and helped foster the already playful tone of our final reading. 

Seriousl,y as our time comes to a close, we all get downright goofy.

The readings all went really well, and we were all proud to be there for the virgin readings of PJ Trenbelhorn and Sophia Kell Hagen.

Both of them did really well, and we are all very proud to have them as Boldies.  Then when it was my turn to read, Kim Baldwin threw herself at me.  Really, I am very hard to resist, or maybe she was just so excited about hear my very first reading my forthcoming novel The Long Way Home. 

Really, even now looking back at these pictures I get a big goofy grin on my face.  I cannot wait to get back together with everyone next year.  Only 11 months to go until we all get to converge on PTown again!

Hey folks, here’s your next Ptown recap. I know it’s way overdue, but just think of it as dragging out the memories for extra enjoyments

Friday started way too early after Dick Harder’s Thursday night escapades, but there’s nothing to wake you up like an amazing panel of ground-breaking women.  Faye Jacobs, Leslea Newman, and Lee Lynch took the stage with Rad as moderator. We got two hours of readings, stories, and Q&A from some of the greatest minds of our time. As if that wasn’t incentive enough, all the proceeds went to HOW – Helping Our Women, a local Ptown charity.  I just cannot say enough positive things about this event.

After the HOW Benefit, I slipped back to the condo to spend a little time with Susie and Jackson.  They had found the treasure that is the Ptown Library, which has a super-cool children’s section and were eager to tell me all about it.  We had two hours of family time, then Jackie boy went down for his nap, and I headed out to the Fairbanks for the premier of Outsiders, featuring Lynn Ames, Susan X Meagher and my good friend, Susan Smith.

This reading was just so much fun.  You can tell the authors were having fun with their work and with each other. Lynn read from her selection and kept us in stitches talking about balancing her lesbian works and her mainstream projects. SX read a super funny scene from her own work as well as a selection from Georgia Beer’s contribution to the collection, complete with hair flipping. Then Smitty blew us all away, first with a stellar impression of JD Glass when reading from Triskelion, then by acting her “reading” more as a monologue in a performance worthy of the stage.  I am in always in awe of the way Smitty commands an audience. Really, I feared the crowd was just ruined for mere mortals like myself after a performance like that.

There was a short break between the Outsiders reading and my own reading at the Fairbanks Inn, so I stepped, or rather ran, outside to toss a football around with Lynn Ames and Nell Stark.  I have to say that the pictures in this case make the whole event look much more athletic than it was.  We were on a sidewalk and kept stumbling out into traffic. There was a lot of dropping and cussing and finger jamming going on, but from the pictures it really looked like we were All American bois out there.

I may have to blow up that picture and frame it as the singular moment in my life when I appeared athletic.  Really, I am not. My own recollections of the game were more in line with this picture, which we are now referring to as “The Gay Heisman.”

Still, even when we were dropping, shanking, or running from the ball, we were having a blast together. I almost didn’t want to go inside for my reading, and honestly if it has just been me, I would have chosen the football, but you just don’t pass up the chance to hear some of my Fellow BSBers read erotic writing.

I don’t really like to read erotica out loud, so the experience was pretty nerve-wracking for me, but I really loved hearing my fellow authors showcase their sexy sides.  Lisa Girolami, Larkin Rose, Colette Moody, Gaberiel Goldsby, Nell Stark, Clara Nipper, and Radclyffe all read from recent or forthcoming releases, and I was just blown away by the variety of ways in which we all showcased love and lust in distinctly different and yet recognizable ways.    Of course the question and answer portion was fun, too

That evening Susie and Jackson came downtown and we all went out to dinner with a whole host of authors and friends.  Jackson was pretty wound up since the weather had kept him cooped up all day, so we didn’t last for long, but it was nice to see some folks, contemplate things like zombie apocalypses and what not, then turn in early to rest up for all the fun we’d have on Saturday.

Hey all,

I know I still have two more Ptown recaps to do, but today’s blog is going to be about a more immediate topic because Nano starts Sunday!  If you are already in on this adventure, please go to www. nanowrimo.org and friend me (rachel_spangler). For those of you who are unfamiliar with National Novel Writing Month, or Nano as we call it, the project challenges writers to produce 50,000 words in 30 days.  They call it 30 days of literary abandon, some people call it crazy, some people call it grueling, and they are all correct, but it is also an extremely productive way to write.  When you are writing towards such a lofty goal in such a short period of time, you don’t have the luxury of  second guessing yourself or playing solitaire or fixating on finding the perfect word.  Writers block is not an option; neither is procrastination.  You have to WRITE RIGHT NOW.

Last year I participated in a NaNo and “won,” meaning I hit my 50,000 words.  Those 50,000 words (or about 41,000 of them after editing) turned into the first half of  The Long Road Home, the novel you’ve all been hearing about for the last few months. Lord only knows how long it would’ve taken me to plow through the first half of a book on my own, but I know for sure it would have been longer than 30 days.  While not everything I wrote was perfect, or even made it in to the final draft, the act of writing without reservation was a tremendous jump-start for me.

So, with last year’s success under my belt, I am going to give it another go, but this time I am going to do things differently.  Instead of starting a novel, I am going to finish one.  My current manuscript is sitting at about 30,000 words, and I anticipate it taking about 50,000 more to finish.  I have really hit a wall with this project over the last few weeks, and I need to kick on through and get this novel into my publisher’s hands by the start of the new year, and if I don’t do something drastic, that will never happen.  Between Jackson’s birthday, a major conference, a trip to Illinois, and Thanksgiving, there are 101 excuses as to why I don’t have time to write,  but with NaNo I have a goal, a plan and a massive support system of fellow writers to keep me on task.  Most importantly, I  have a sense of pride and relief to look forward to on November 30th when I get to type “The End.”

The gauntlet has been thrown down: 50,000 words in 30 days.  Who’s with me? 

See you brave and bold souls Sunday at www.nanowrimo.org, and in the meantime here’s your weekend play, because if Madonna and JT can save the world in 4 minutes, then certainly we can write a novel in 30 days!

We got to Ptown early on Thursday, and after a quick stop in to see our friends the T’s, Gabe Goldsby, and Lea Santos, we headed for commercial street. 

Commercial street runs the length of Ptown and is like a special world of its own.  During Women’s Week it is also filled with some of my favorite people in the whole world.  Everywhere I turned I ran into friends, colleagues, and readers all eager to hug and get caught up.   It is also the only place in the world where I’ve been stopped on the street to sign an autograph

As you can see above, Jackson has a few fans in Ptown too.  He enjoyed showing off his dinosaur overalls to Trish.

After a trip to The Pig, where we ran into a few more friends and authors, Susie took Jackson home for his nap and I headed to a BSB reading at the Vixen.  The first panel consisted of intrigue writers and featured (from the left) Carsen Taite, VK Powell, Ann Laughlin, Kim Baldwin, Xenia Alexiou, Clara Nipper, and Ali Vali.

As usual, everyone was stellar, and Carsen did an extra special good job at moderating as well as reading from It Should be a Crime.    VK used her sultry southern accent as she read from Suspect Passions.  Kim and Xenia did a great tag team reading of an intense episode of Thief of Always. Clara did a sexy and funny selection from Femme Noir.  Ali totally made my day by reading a sweet but tense scene  from Blue Skies.  (Just a reminder that you can get all the wonderful books from this reading in paperback or ebook form at www.boldstrokesbooks.com)

After that panel the audience got a little break and some trivia before a group of Paranormal authors took to the stage.  Hmm that’s reads strangely. I didn’t mean to imply that the authors were paranormal, or did I?

Nell Stark moderated the panel beautifully and led off with I. Beachum, who was reading for Colette Moody and did a bang up job in her sexy British accent.  She was followed by Trinity Tam reading a gripping scene from the newly released Everafter.  Then the boss did her very first reading as L.L. Raand for her forthcoming urban fantasy novel The Midnight Hunt.  Last but certainly not least was Gill (as in Gillian, not gills like fish have) McNight did a fantastic job of reading from Goldenseal in her lilting Irish accent.

Seriously, with all those super cool accents, I started to wonder how anyone could stand to listen to a simple Midwestern boi like myself.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to read that day and got to spend my time sitting between two of my favorite people.

That is to say, they were my favorite people before I arrived at the BSB meet and greet that night.  I wasn’t even in the Vixen for 15 minutes before they busted out an evil trick on me.  They called me up in front of the whole crowd and gave me a hand-held fan with an embarrassing childhood photo of myself on one side and a caption that read “When I grow up I want to be . . . “  Then when you flipped it over on the other side it had a picture of drag king Dick Harder and said “…a Cowboi.” 

Not only did they have one printed up for me, they had printed up enough to hand around to everyone at the event too.  Even my son had one!

Everywhere I turned all night long I was being asked to sign one of those fans, and I tell you what, that would have been enough to mess with a boi’s ego if I hadn’t been surrounded by so many awesome readers and fellow authors. 

This was the first annual BSB meet and greet and Toni, T, Connie, Lori and everyone else involved did a stellar job of putting it together.  The place was packed, and it was wonderful to see so many of the people I love in one place.  There was food, drinks, book signing, and even some air hockey, though Jackson may have monopolized the table a bit.

While there wasn’t really a dance floor, there was some music being played, and Jackson took the opportunity to teach Lisa Girolami a few dance moves like this one.

I don’t know where he gets that extroverted streak from

I can’t even remember all the people I got to meet that night, but I enjoyed every minute of it, and the time just few by.  Before I knew it, the event was over and I was off to transform into Dick Harder. 

Dick Harder, as some of you may know, is a drag king who has the habit of showing up in Ptown without his pants, and this year was no exception.  He slid out on stage in his  class=”hiddenSpellError” pre=”his “>tighty whities to the sounds of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll” a la Tom Cruise in Risky Business.

Dick got a warm reception and was bolstered by the huge section full of BSBers who were all waving their fans from the meet and greet.  He danced and gyrated his way around the stage, even jumping into the audience to bump and grind among the crowd. 

After his number he had to wait in a very small space backstage, squeezed in with Dirty Steve and Juan A. Nother, who looked an awful lot like Jenny McNulty and Mimi Gonzalez.  Aside from being hilarious, they were also Dick Harder’s personal leg warmers.  When they felt how cold Dick’s legs were from being bare in the breeze for so long, they both started rubbing them vigorously. That alone was better than any prize Dick won that night.

But he did also win first place!   The winner was determined by audience applause, and it was good fun to see those fans from the BSBers all pop up again.   Dick Harder is proud to say he has some of the best fans in the world.

By the time the show wrapped up it was after midnight, and everyone was crashing from all the excitement of the day, but we didn’t have long to rest because in a few short hours we’d get back up and start all over again.

Hey Folks,

This week has been the opposite of last week.  Instead of a wonderful but unproductive week, I’ve had a shitty but prolific one.  I set myself the challenge of writing 10,000 words before Ptown (10 days),  and right now I’m sitting at 8,100 with three full days to go.   It’s amazing I’ve managed to be so productive with so much crap to distract me.

The shitty part has come mostly in form of the Cardinals’ playoff losses, which I don’t want to talk about, I don’t want to think about, and I certainly don’t want to joke about.  For those of you who are not sports fans, you cannot understand the pain and helplessness I’ve felt this week.

However, those of you who are writers will know that while none of us seek out agony, we do have a natural and productive coping method for it.  So this week I have poured my pain onto the pages.  It has actually been rather convenient, especially in the past two days as I’ve work on a gut-wrenching scene involving my teenage protagonist putting herself  into a scary and dangerous sexual situation.  It was hard to write, but my own roiling emotions gave me the fuel I needed to dip into her psyche and not sugarcoat any of it.  Honestly, I’m not sure I could have chosen such a hard road under happier circumstances.

That being said, I am now exhausted.  Writing scenes like that require me to give so much of myself to the character, and it takes a mental and physical toll on me.  I wrapped up the scene sweaty and achy and shaky.  I had to go take a shower to literally wash the residue off me for the day, but it’s not over yet.  My next scene is going to be much less gut-wrenching but much more heart wrenching as the story comes to an emotional apex.  Think back to being a teenager and how if felt with you reached the breaking point of confusion, failure, awkwardness, dejection and self-loathing, and you’ll know what I mean.  Then of course the Cardinals have one more game to lose, and even though I know it’s coming, I will not be able to stop myself from believing, and I’ll have to deal with that emotional train wreck.  Plus there are all the things I have to do to get ready for Ptown, and while the trip itself is going to be a real life saver for me, the logistics of preparing to take a toddler on a trip of this scale can be a bit overwhelming.

So in order to celebrate my writing progress and recharge for the days ahead, I am going to shut down the darkness for a few hours, go to dinner with some friends, play with some kids, and play a fun song to start off the weekend.  For just a little while, let’s all allow ourselves to go “Barefoot and Crazy.”

P.S. That’s Jack Ingram – I like him lots. If you do too, support the artist and buy the CD.

Hey all,

It has not been a good week for writing. Between our trip to Missouri (which we survived), getting back on schedule (which we haven’t) and preparing for Ptown (which is just starting), my word count for this week sits at zero. But fear not, my faithful friends and readers. This week was anything but unproductive. I have some very big developments to tell you about.

 The first piece of news is that Trails Merge is going to be translated into Spanish! I could not be more excited about this. Many of you know how much I love anything Spanish. Spanish is my second language (or language 1.5 because I’m not really that great with it.) Spain is also a “spiritual home” of sorts for me in that I feel a deep connection to that land and its people ever since visiting in 2000. In fact, the book I am working on now is set in Spain. So stay tuned for more information about the Spanish version of Trails Merge forthcoming from Editorial Egales .

The second bit of info for you is that we’re just a week away from Women’s Week! I am going to be in Ptown October 15-18, but events will be taking place that whole week. I’ve got two readings and a signing, and Dick Harder will be making an appearance at the drag show as well. Please check out the events section of the website for more information on times and locations as well as links to the full Women’s Week schedule. This is one of my favorite weeks of the whole year (Really, it tops most major holidays). Cape Cod is stunning, and the welcoming atmosphere of Ptown just can’t be beat. When you throw in so many great friends and fans, it’s a phenomenal mix. I hope you’ll be joining us, but if you can’t then I hope you’ll stay tuned here for lots of pictures and updates.

My final big announcement is that I have been asked to teach an Introduction to Romance Writing class at the Fredonia Academy. The academy is part of the life-long learning initiatives at SUNY Fredonia and is open to anyone. The course will run October 27- December 3 on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 6:30 to 8:00, and it will cover basic aspects of romance writing. I am in no way claiming to know everything there is about romance writing, but I am the only one in the area with any experience in this genre, and I am happy to share what I’ve learned with aspiring novelists. You can register for the class by contacting the Office of Life Long Learning and Special Programs at (716) 673-3177. If you are in western New York or know of creative writers who are, please pass along this information to them.

My master’s degree is in education, and I had initially thought about teaching as a career. The love of my life is a teacher, and many of my greatest role models are teachers. Carrie, one of the main characters from Learning Curve is a teacher, and Raine, from the forthcoming The Long Way Home becomes a teacher. I think it’s safe to say I have a have thing for teachers, and now I am just giddy at the thought of teaching a class myself. Seriously, I am so excited about this that sometimes I lay awake in bed at night  just thinking about it, and when I do, I get the same refrain running through my head, and that’s how we’ve come to the “play” for this weekend.

Enjoy!

Hello All,

This has been a busy week for me.  I am working on a new novel and I met my goal of 5,000 words for the week, which is really good for me.  I am in that stage where I am really comfortable with my characters and we’re working well together.  I also have a pretty good idea of where the plot is headed, at least in the big picture.  In short, I’m truckin’ on that manuscript. 

However, this is not my only project.  I am also, as you well know, publicizing  the forthcoming The Long Way Home.   Raine/Rory and Beth have become like good friends to me, and I cannot wait to share them with all of you.  I also have so much to tell you about their home town and by extension my experiences in small towns.  I’ve been collecting photos and putting together a few things to share with you over the upcoming months as I wait for and then wade through the editing process with Shelley.  Who knows, maybe I’ll have her guest blog with me one week.

Still, both books have been balanced (or overridden) by trip preparations.  My in-laws are celebrating their 50th anniversary this year, so Susie, Jackson, and I will be traveling to Missouri to commemorate the event with a family vacation.  While Missouri is not a place we would normally visit, since we avoid red states like the plague, and fear for our gay-assed lives in backwoods mountain towns, I find myself feeling odd stirrings of excitement as I pack my suitcase.

You see, there is just something about being on the go.  I love checking off items on my packing check list, pulling out my passport at security, and sliding into a rental car.   I am at heart a nomad.  As a child I envisioned a life at sea as a naval officer; in college I had dreams of backpacking around the world; I still harbor fantasies of selling my house and buying an RV to drive across country.  However, G-D had other plans, as she often does.  I was blessed at a very young age with the love of my life and a beautiful son.  Settling down seemed a small price to pay for the love I’ve had heaped on me.

And still, I have a restlessness in my soul.  There must have been a gypsy somewhere in my lineage. I am incapable of stillness,  my body aches to be on the move, and so like a heroine addict who can’t quit but can survive on a very low dose of the drug, I now take vacations.  Instead of going wherever the road might lead, I meticulously plan long weekends away.  Instead of an occupation based on travel, I make use of my wife and I’s respective professions to attended conferences in San Antonio and Orlando.  We visit family and far-flung friends instead of exploring foreign cultures.  And instead of India, Australia and Antarctica, we visit Missouri.

And when all else fails, and I feel the tremble of the earth under my feet, or hear the call of the wind late at night, or feel my chest constrict under the weight of stillness, I write.  I write about the places I’ve come from, like in Learning Curve or The Long Way Home, and I write about the places I want to be like in Trails Merge or the current book I’m writing, which takes place in Spain.  Despite what it might look like when I park myself behind the computer for hours on end, my writing is in truth a nomadic lifestyle.  After all, what better way to see a world than to create one?

It’s time to start introducing you to some of the characters from The Long Way Home, my next novel that will be released in fall of 2010.  Today you’re going to meet Raine/Rory. 

The character of Raine is born out of a song, or born to a song, or perhaps born singing a song.  She is so very tied to Melissa Etheridge’s “Ain’t it Heavy” that I’m going to go ahead and play the song first so those of you who don’t know it (then I take it your not a lesbian?) can get a better idea of what I’m talking about.

Rory St. James was disowned at the age of seventeen after coming out to her parents in one of those impetuous moments of youth.  Unable to take her family’s disapproval, she runs away from her small-town home of Darlington, Illinois and leaves everyone she’s ever known. 

“Feeling kind of loose, I’m feeling kind of mean, been feeling kinda wild since I turned 17.

She arrives in Chicago alone and determined to make it on her own. She creates a whole new out-and-proud lesbian identity for herself.  With her new self comes a new name as she dubs herself Raine (a new nickname for her given name, Loraine). She tries to bury any residual aspects of her small-town self, insistent that she will prove everyone wrong and make a name for herself as Raine, which she does.  After meeting an agent, Raine begins to tell her story across the country.  She preaches a message of being true to oneself at any cost and uses her experiences of fleeing the narrow-minded people of her hometown to illustrate her point.  Audiences flock to hear the resiliant teenager, and her life becomes a whirlwind while she travels, talks, and writes for several years, but ten years later her job offers are drying up.   She’s not 17 anymore, and the public has moved on, as it often does.   Colleges and community centers aren’t interested in a disowned twenty-seven year old.  Raine is broke and alone and at a loss for what to do with her life.

“There’s a hole in my jeans I only wanted to fade . . .”

On the eve or her eviction, Raine receives a call from her agent, Edmond.  He’s got a job offer for her, one that will fix all her troubles.  She’ll be able to teach at a small college as a guest lecturer, she’ll be able to live on campus for free, and she’ll be given the opportunity to publish an article, maybe even a book about her experiences.  The only caveat is that the college is in her hometown of Darlington, the one she’s built her whole career bashing.

“Where can a woman find any kind of peace, when does the fury and the agony cease, how long have I got to say please?”

So with no other option Raine returns to her home town and is forced to face the people who knew her as Rory, her friends, her foes, and her family. 

As Raine’s “off for the ride, to cruise these streets where her innocence hides,” she learns that there are indeed some things that “you can deny.”

Raine, is smart, charismatic, and damn sexy.  She’s also insecure, fearful, and wounded.  She’s worked hard to become everything she thought she wanted to be, and yet in some ways she’s a perpetual seventeen-year-old still unable to deal with events that took place ten years ago.    Now she’s forced not only to reexamine what happened, but also take a good, hard, long look at what her life has become.

“Sometimes it feels like it’s never enough, survival is fine but satisfaction is rough.”

Thankfully for us, this is a romance, and Raine/Rory won’t have to deal with everything on her own. She will ultimately get to “Try with an angel tonight.“

But that, my friends, is a whole other blog.

Hey all,

This has been a long, full week of writing, editing and cleaning my house.  I will eventually get back to those day-to-day experiences.  Trust me, you’ll get more than you ever care to know about the plot, character, and settings of The Long Way Home, but today I am going to take a little diversion because this has been a full week of politics for me, and with today being September 11, you just can’t avoid looking at the bigger picture.

If you are anti-liberal or simply uninterested in pesky little things like moral imperatives or common curtesies, then feel free to check out now.  This type of blog is not for everyone, and I respect that.  However, this is my blog, and I get to write what I want.

I am an American. That word has stuck in my throat over the last 8 years.  I have not been proud of my country, I have not been proud of my government, I have not been proud of my fellow citizens.  I have been saddened by rampant racism, sexism, and homophobia that infiltrate daily discourse.  I have been appalled at the arrogance with which we’ve approached the global community.   I’ve been horrified at the way we’ve used the tragic deaths of our citizens and soldiers to justify atrocities to other countries’ citizens and soldiers.   Mostly, though, I was sickened by the fact that my questioning of these things somehow made me un-American.    To me, the worst part of the last 8 years was that by thinking critically and expecting basic moral consideration, I was accused of betraying  my country and the victims of September 11.   The conventional thought was that if you were not racist, anti-Muslim, anti-immigration, and pro violence that you were a bad American.

No more, folks.  We can no longer afford to give into the myth that it is un-American to be willfully ignorant as evidenced by the Presidential address to American students.  No longer is it okay to allow national debate be ruled by racism or temper tantrums like we saw in Congress this week.  No longer can we allow the legacy of September 11 to justify the slaughter and repression of another nation’s people, as seen with the pull back of troops in Iraq.  This is a new America, this is my country, this is our future.

As for the weekend play,  I hate the idea that people from the country have to be racist rednecks, so here’s a country singer, Brad Paisley, welcoming us to this bright new future  by saying “every day is a revolution” and singing the verse that made me pull over the car and cry.

“I had a friend in school/ Running back of the football team/ They burned a cross in his front yard/ For asking out the Homecoming Queen/ I thought about him today/ And everybody who seen what he seen/ From a woman on a bus/ To a man with a dream/  Hey, wake up Martin Luther/ Hey, Glory, Glory, Halleluia/ Welcome to the future.”

The video won’t imbed due to copyright issue, but please trust me, it’s worth clicking on the link for this one.

Welcome to your weekend, and welcome to the future.