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I hate you like a sister…

Since I can only use the word companionship so many times, I decided to look up synonyms to vary my word choices.
So as I’m reading the differerent shades of meaning for companionship – like fellowship or hospitality or partnership – I come across this entry for fraternity:

Main Entry: fraternity Part of Speech: noun Definition: brotherhood Synonyms: Greeks, association, camaraderie, circle, clan, club, companionship, company, comradeship, fellowship, frat*, guild, house, kinship, league, letter society, order, organization, set, society, sodality, union

Antonyms: sorority
Source: Roget’s New Millenniumâ„¢ Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.2.1) Copyright © 2006 by Lexico Publishing Group, LLC. All rights reserved.
* = informal or slang

and it surprised the hell out of me. Sorority is the opposite of fraternity? I’m a firm believer in the existence of mean girls but I think that’s overstating the case for them, no? Surely sororities are also about camaraderie and companionship, fellowship and society.
I’m not sure if I think this is funny or disturbing. Or both.

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Whew.

I’m convinced now that deadlines are to get writers to stop doing new drafts. I could have kept going, writing, re-writing, nitpicking, trying out different phrases, but it’s goddamn hot tonight, even with the AC on, and I haven’t gotten more than 6 hours’ sleep in like a week.
I’m pleased with it. I’m pleased with Betty’s Afterword. I’m amazed that I will have to wait until March for most of you to read it. But of course I’ll keep putting previews every month.
For those of you who are curious, there’s still copyediting, proofreading; we’re waiting for the cover design, and starting to figure out who might be willing to blurb. The business parts of publishing come next, and they are much, much easier.
So now to my celebratory Chipwich! Thanks, all, for your support. I hope it won’t disappoint.

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Does Gingko Biloba Count?

As a substance, I mean? Because if so, I’m going to wind up with a major substance abuse problem I’ll develop in the next week.
Knowing you’re reviewing the final drafts for the copyeditor is nerve-wracking. The feeling that I will not be able to make any changes at a later date is enough to shut my brain down entirely. But at the same time, the book is already in good shape, it feels done, and only this nit-picky stuff needs doing. Still, it burns your eyeballs out.
Betty may regret ever having married a writer after this week.

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Sexism for $200, Alex

Just now on Jeopardy, in the “About the Book” category, the clue was (something like)

Found at the beginning of the book, it can run to several pages, and includes thanks yous to editors, agents, grant-making institutions, and wives.

And people think I’m whining when I say that “author” = “man” in a lot of people’s minds. Saying to yourself, “well that person is just sexist” works sometimes, but it’s the ongoing, subtle, water torture chipping away that really gets to you after a while.

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Happy Birthday, Kath

My very lovely sister Kathleen turns a new age today. (It’s not my decision whether or not she wants anyone to know how old she is, and I’m no fool.) She has been very, very supportive of my writing for years now in both practical and emotional ways.
One night, a long time ago, when we were sharing an apartment (read: I was living in her apt), I wrote a short piece about my parents, in honor of their anniversary, and left it for her when I went to bed at whatever godforsaken hour I did. She worked for a bank most of her life, and got it when she woke up a few hours later. When I saw her next, she was holding it in her hand, kind of gesticulating with the pages, and said, “So you just sat down and wrote this, just like that?” I shook my head yes and watched as the lightbulb went off over her head; I’m not sure in all of her years of banking it had ever occurred to her that someone would sit down and write a short story for no reason whatsoever.
It was like our own sororal cultural exchange: not too much later, she sat me down and taught me how to write a budget. As it turns out I’m excellent at writing them; it’s keeping to them that’s the tricky part.
But a very happy birthday to you, Kath!

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The Things You Do for – What?

If you asked Betty what it’s like to live with me while I’m writing, she’d probably just shake her head. Sometimes she talks about the buzz of contentment that emanates from my side of the room when things are going swimmingly, but other times (when things are not going so well) I am a snarky person to live with. If the book is happy, I’m happy. When the book is not happy, neither am I.
But the one thing that’s coming up for me a lot with this book is why on god’s green earth I decided to do this. It’s not as if our lives aren’t public enough (because they are). It’s not because I got paid so much I couldn’t resist. And at the end of the day, I’m still an introvert; I don’t do it for the attention. I’m not sure what that leaves me with. I’m not so kind and self-sacrificing that I do it for the good of others; that’s my mother’s job. That said, I certainly don’t expect to regret it, either; I like writing, and I like seeing my writing published. But some days I wonder why I don’t just write novels like a normal person, shrouding the mysteries of my psycho-sexual development in characters that seem like me but aren’t.

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Butch Purse?

In a great piece called Butches, Lies, and Feminism by Jeanne Cordova out of The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader, this story of a butch purse:

I punched my black leather purse into a tighter pillow underneath my head. My purse, whom I lovingly called ‘my yin chromosome,’ had been with me through nearly two decades of the lesbian civil wars. She’d been the butt of much harassment by lesbian-feminists and stone butches who didn’t understand the difference between a butch purse and a femme purse. A butch purse is an only child. Femmes have as many purses as shoes.

I laughed really really hard when I read that, as Betty has more bags and purses stuck into nooks in closets and cabinets and drawers than I can imagine owning in a lifetime. I occasionally go around and with the largest in hand, shove a bunch of the smaller ones into it – one bag-eating bag, as it were. And yes, you guessed it: I have one bag I use daily. I occasionally switch off to a larger bag for when I’m editing a ms, and sometimes I use a tiny pouch of a bag, like when I’m going to a club and don’t want to have to check a larger bag. But mostly I use a bag until it falls apart, and then I go find a new one. If repairs can’t be made, that is.

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A Girl Like Gwen

The Gwen Araujo story aired on Lifetime tonight and unfortunately we don’t have cable, but I’m hoping someone will loan me a copy. Right now I’m not sure I’m up to watching it; I read so many articles, news reports, essays, editorials… and none of them change the ending. I wish something could, still.
There is a thread about the movie – the making of it and reactions to it – on our message boards, if you want to join in.
I’m pleased, too, that they got a good actress to play Gwen’s mother. Stories about transpeople seem to forget sometimes that they have families – mothers, wives, boyfriends, children. Stories like Gwen’s – and recently Kevin Aviance’s – sometimes make me with that I could keep Betty from going outside. But of course that’s no way to live, either. Please, transfolk: be safe. Tell friends where you are. As often as possible make sure there’s someone around who’s got your back.

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I Should Say…

… not only am I putting up a preview of the new book tomorrow, but I’ve also found that while I’m writing I can’t just toss off ideas about gender for the blog. Thus, 80s music and all the other oddball things I’ve been posting about.

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Thanks to Deborah

I just wanted to especially thank Deborah for her kindness and help with my ongoing insanity. I’ve developed some major neck/back/shoulder pain (a combination of a bad computer setup, one fallen arch, and – oh, stress, for some reason) and we all know how hard it is to get a doctor on the phone! But Deborah is always ready with advice and help.
She’s done it before, too, and I’m insanely grateful. I literally couldn’t work for a few days there – leaning forward at all was incredibly painful but is oh, just kind of required when one is writing and editing.