Hi friends!

Merry merry, happy happy, and all that! Holy crap we're five days into the season of Christmas and I'm utterly exhausted. Of course, I'm an introvert so all the peopling that happens this time of year really does a number on me. 

As the year wraps up though, I'm looking back on it and despite it feeling like a year on fire, I've accomplished a lot. I've managed to knock out another draft of the next Opportunity book, I've started notes for a third and final Oppy book, I've got a semi-workable draft for the third and final Cryptids book, finished another draft of Prince Sebastian's Diaries, started knocking together notes for three brand new projects and did the whole, conception to release of Recipe for Redemption. 

But somehow, I feel guilty about not working over the holidays. I know I shouldn't but I do. 

That goes for all of us though doesn't it. So many of us are feeling exhausted, physically, emotionally... It's hard to look at the successes we've had throughout the year when it feels like the whole year has been a dumpster fire. 

It's even more exhausting for queer folks. The holiday season can often be a reminder of what we've lost. What's been stripped from us simply because of who we are... families, friends, homes. 

I have to admit, I'm not a fan of RuPaul. To be completely honest, I find RuPaul's casual jokes about certain topics, often at best insensitive and at worst, utterly offensive. BUT, RuPaul did once say, and I'm paraphrasing here, that we are very lucky as gay people as we get to choose our families.

I think in some ways, that's undeniably true. We do get to choose our families. We get to select who we surround ourselves with. We get to choose to have families who truly love us for who we are, not because of some genetic lottery. 

Unfortunately, that's not always enough though, is it? Creating our own families doesn't correct the wrong done to us, not just by our relatives, but by society. Our vulnerabilities aren't suddenly shielded because we find our own close-knit community.

Vulnerabilities stay vulnerable. That's why we have community. Together we can each watch each other's backs. 

At the core of humanity, I do believe people are typically good, empathetic, and caring. We just aren't loud about it, so we get lost by the loud negativity. 

The simple fact is, we have to be empathetic and caring. It's in our nature. Our species needs to live in community, otherwise we'd have gotten picked off.

Human beings thrive in community.  It's how we protect our vulnerable bits. 

The thing is, vulnerabilities don't have to be negative, they can be how we connect with others, forming new bonds of community. 

Community can come in every possible shape, size, and arrangement. Let me offer an example. I've mentioned Stargazer's Vineyard and Winery before, and that Joey and I had found it because we'd been given a gift card. I hadn't previously mentioned that the first time we'd gone up there was near the end of October 2024. Well, after November 5th, neither of us were feeling great; truth be told we were in a bit of a state of mourning–still are, if I'm being honest. Joey was in his office at his church, and I was in my study. Neither of us were getting much done and he called me and asked me how I was doing. I told him that I wasn't being very productive and he simply said, "let's go to the winery."

We did just that. When we got there, we spent the rest of the afternoon shedding tears and fears into our wine glasses with the owners, Jason and Michael. In that bubble of dread, we built a community. Now Jason and Michael are some of our very best friends. Truly, they've become family, as has Jason's mother, Carol. 

Community doesn't have to be a long term thing though. Yesterday, while I was heading into a shop, a woman pulled up in a parking space next to me. She had seen the sticker on the back of my car that says 'WRITER' and asked if I'm a writer. When I said I am, she said she's just decided to embark on her own journey to become a writer and if I had any snippets for her. I gave her two. One, only you can tell your story, don't let other people tell you your story. The other bit was that the second she sat down to write, she hadn't embarked on a journey to be a writer. She was a writer, embarking on a journey to discover her story. She was a writer by virtue of writing.  She grinned and we spoke for a few moments. In that freezing cold parking lot, with a pelting mist and stiff breeze, we had a community of writers. 

Communities exist to support each other. Community is never more needed than at the holiday season, when some of us feel separated from our relatives, or ostracized from faith communities we may have grown up in. The simple fact is, the holidays are a pretty religious time of year, and religions have done a great job, not just of ostracizing queer people, but attacking us, often violently. It makes sense that the holidays would be a time of particular vulnerability. 

It's also a time where we're forced to confront that people we've loved are no longer present with us, either because of loss, or because of fallings out. It becomes a time of mourning. 

They also force us to mark the passage of time, to recognize that life has changed, things are not longer the ways we liked them. Old traditions die and new ones form. That can cause sadness and anger. 

So protect yourself, bundle up in whatever give you strength and protects your vulnerabilities. Surround yourself with your chosen families. Distance yourself from those who hurt you. 

Don your gay apparel. Make the yuletide gay!

Gay. It. Up.

And above all remember:

You are seen. You are loved. You matter.

Hi Friends, fancy seeing you here! 

It's finally autumn and please someone tell me that I'm not the only one who's more than happy about that. I don't know about you, but when the temperature finally leaves the 80s and I can start wearing my longer pants and breaking out the sweaters, it just brings me peace. Since we moved, neither my husband nor I have the same amount of closet space that we did in NE Philly. It's about the only thing we have less of. But because there's less room, I've been thinking about how to maximize my sweater space. God knows I have a bunch (but can definitely use more). I don't really like hanging my sweaters up on hangers, they get those weird shoulder nipples, so I prefer to fold them and have them tucked away. The problem is, our dresser and chest of drawers is already full. I need to get my hands on a few more sweater cubbies that can hang in a closet, and I'll take my t-shirts and put them elsewhere for the chilly seasons. 

Another thing that happens during the cooler months is that I find myself more creative; it's definitely easier for me to settle in and write if I can do it with a cup of tea, an autumnal scented candle and a stack of notebooks. I've got a few projects that I hope to make some real headway on over the next few months. 

Speaking of projects; in my last two posts, I talked about a new project, one that I describe as 'gay kid at conservative Christian high school goes on to be on the bake off.' I'm very proud to say that it is 100% completed. Soon I'll be announcing titles and a cover reveal so watch my socials for that. I can promise you it'll be in your hands before the end of the year! 

With that story done, it gives me the bandwidth for my other projects—even if the puppy takes up a lot of that bandwidth. I've got three pretty major new projects I'm working on; one that's just cute, one that really makes me think (and I hope it will make you think too), and one that's a cozy murder mystery. 

Also, am I the only one who laughs a little at the concept of 'cozy murder?' I mean, I get it, it's all about the vibe and definitely not gritty (looking judgingly at US murder mystery shows) but calling murder cozy always feels odd.

I've also lately been feeling like I should revisit some of the ideas that I've let languish for a few years. I've got so many ideas that I've shelved over the years and a few seem to be calling out again.

With all of these projects, I can't pretend that my excitement isn't tempered with being a bit overwhelmed. It can be easy just think "Oh God what do I work on?" And the answer to that is: whatever moves me. I make no secret that I've got literally dozens of stories rattling around. There are gigabytes of notes on my computer and I've got a stack of pocket notebooks that are filled with ideas, quotes for characters, plot points, all kinds of stuff like that—so I've got no shortages of things to work on.  

Being creative lately has felt scary lately, but it's also felt like a directive. We're in a weird and scary time for creatives. Historically, creative people, the artists, the writers, and musicians, are those who've led critiqued attacks on our fundamental rights. It has also meant that they are among the first to get attacked. When you challenge power, that power gets turned on you. It has, however, been those critiques and commentaries that inspire others. At a time when creatives are being driven from their media, like Colbert and Kimmel, it's more important than ever in our lives, that creatives get to work. 

Art, whatever form that might take, has always been the soul of society. It reveals, most honestly, who we are as humans. Humans yearn for love, life, joy, and freedom. Art reveals both what those look like, and what they're up against. In some ways, through detailing who we are, we draw roadmaps to those things we want; it reminds us that life is a constant state of change, of advancement. That's why art challenges authoritarians and the status quo, it serves to remind them, and all of us, that this is but a stop along the way, that striving for joy subverts oppression, that love undermines authority, and life, when truly lived, struggles against and breaks out from chains. 

That's not to say that it's not terrifying, but creation in general is terrifying. It should be. It should challenge people. Hell, the most fluffy things out there should challenge someone somewhere. So now is the time for creatives to get to work. 

That doesn't mean writing like Alexander Hamilton or Thomas Paine. Not everyone can put ink to page and write "if there be trouble, let it be in my day that my child might have peace." Even if that is fucking brilliant. 

Art with subjects of joy and love and all the wonderful things of life can be just as subversive as the Federalist Papers. It reminds people that joy does exist, and that it can be attained.

Joy comes in many forms. It can be peaceful, quiet nights by yourself, or it can be raucous parties with two hundred of your most far flung friends. It can be laying back in bed for a lie in and a book, or it can be acrobatic love-making. It can be a run in a park and a glass of cold water, or it can be a sumptuous meal and a spectacular bottle of wine. The point is joy is all around us, it pushes against pain and paves over it. It breaks down divisions and divisiveness and balms the soul. So document it. Take pictures, journal, write a song. Show your joy. Unless it's sex... then at least make people pay to see that. (Kidding, mostly.) Find joy, love and peace in those around you who support and love you.

Fight oppression with freedom. Fight hatred with love. Fight anger with joy. But fight.

Fight like hell. 

I'm going to fight by spending time with my friends and husband, by playing with my puppy, by enjoying good food and drink, by writing gay shit. I'm going to subvert pain but being and sharing joy. 

So let's break out those sweaters, and fight. Share joy, share love. 

And remember:

You are seen. You are loved. You matter.

Hi Friends!

I hope summer is treating you well. I know it is for us. On the fourth of August, my husband, Joey and I celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary. We celebrated by getting a puppy—a Golden Retriever puppy, specifically. She's only eight weeks old and she's perfect. We named her Kira Nerys (just Kira for short).

​Bonus points to those who can tell me where the name came from. 

​As you can see, she's perfect. 

But a new puppy isn't all that this summer has brought us. 

For my Pride blog in June, I mentioned a new project that I'd completed a first draft on. Well, I'm very excited to say that I'm almost done with the rewrite and I'll be sending that off to my amazing editor, Janel, soon. It was one of the most painful yet cathartic things I've ever written, at least Act I is. Think of it as 'gay kid who gets outed at conservative Christian school goes on to the bake off.'

It was strangely fun, cathartic, and painful, sometimes in the same paragraph. I hope you'll love it as much as I have.

I think it's also about time for Joshua and Benji to make a return, so I'm really excited that I've also received the second Opportunity book back from my editor. Oppy 2 is titled Perseverance and it's got more emotion, hard sci-fi, and adventure, and just as much spice as the first Oppy book. I've still got to do another few rounds of edits, but I hope to be able to announce it before the end of the year. 

For those of you who've purchased my books through Amazon, or have read them on Kindle Unlimited, I'm afraid you'll see some changes soon. I'm systematically going to be shifting to a different service for publishing. This means that KU won't be available for these books forever, but it will give me better control. (And honestly, it jives better with my personal ethics.) The timeline for that shift is still pretty rough and it won't happen to all my books at once, so I'll be sure to keep everyone updated as they shift. Keep an eye on my Facebook page to see when that transition happens. I'm actually really excited about it. 

As of right now, the plan is for either the new, gay kid/bake off story (title to be announced) or Percy to be the first things published on the new platform. If it looks like it will be Perseverance, Opportunity will make the migration first, that way both books are available, for those who haven't read Oppy yet.

I've also been giving some help to a writer friend, going through sections of their manuscript for comments and notes. They've done the same for me and I can only hope my own notes are a fraction as helpful as theirs have been for me. 

In a previous post, I mentioned that Joey and I moved out to Chester County, just outside of Philadelphia. When we were packing and preparing to move, some of his colleagues gifted us with a gift card for us to use at a winery that would be dangerously near to the new house (ten minutes), which suited us just fine!

It took us a few weeks to head up there. When we pulled in, a bright, open flag was waving. You know the kind I mean, the feather flags that are tall and flutter, with a rainbow background. Well as we walked from the parking lot to the winery door, I joked with Joey about the rainbow background of the feather flag. I made some comment like 'think the rainbow is for us?' He rolled his eyes and said something like it being unlikely in the middle of Chester County.

Well!  Turns out it was. The owners of Stargazer's Vineyard and Winery are an amazing couple, Jason and Michael, who've become amongst our very best friends, in short order.

The spot is a gorgeous place to head to to enjoy the beautiful area, a great glass, and great friends. In fact, I've even gone up there on the occasional Friday afternoon, when it's quiet, bought a bottle, and settled in to write. 

​
​When we lived in Northeast Philadelphia we had an amazing community of friends, but never a queer community. It was surprising and beautiful to find queer friends in the middle of Chester County. 

I'm listing off these wonderful things that are happening in my life, both personally and professionally, because the world feels like it's on fire right now, doesn't it? It's a scary place to be and those good things, those positive things seem very difficult to find. We get far too caught up in the negative things that happen in our lives, or in the world, that the good things just seem like they get drowned. 

I think that's because we're conditioned to focus on the negative. Think about it, when you flip on the news, it's almost always negative things. There might be the occasional 'personal interest' story that is positive but the news is overwhelmingly negative. That's because negativity sells newspapers, or online news subscriptions, or keeps people tuned to your 24 hour news station. A lot of people prefer it that way; seeing other people's terrible days help us feel better about our own. 

But the positive stuff is out there. Yes, it's most often buried under loads and loads of shit, but it's there. We just have to remember to search for it.

I suggest you go to your friends, spend some time with them, escape the heat, have a refreshing glass of whatever wets your whistle, cuddle a puppy, and remember. There is good out there. There are people out there doing everything they can to make their little corner of the world more beautiful, either by telling stories, or sharing the love of a doggo, or planting lovely flowers or tending to gorgeous rows of grapes. 

It takes effort, sure, but if we remember to look for the everyday beauty, the world seems just a little less scary. 

So, look for the good, the beauty, and as always remember:

You are seen; you are loved; you matter!

Hi friends!
For a second year in a row, I've really struggled with coming up with my annual Pride post. I think part of it is the general mood of the world right now, and part of is it that life simply gets away from all of us. 

Before I get into my thoughts on Pride this year, it's increasing value and necessity, and simply what it means to me, I figured I should probably give you an update on what has been happening in the life of this writer. 

If you've read previous blog posts, or follow me on my socials (Author Mark R Klinger), you know my husband is a Lutheran Pastor. Well, in September, he changed churches that he pastors. We left Northeast Philly and moved out to Chester County, PA. It's a great new place and we're so happy out here, but anyone who has moved from a house that you've lived in for nearly a decade knows, the simple act of moving is not without strife. The whole process is stressful but we're settling in and getting comfortable. Unfortunately though, that wasn't the end of our stress for 2024. 

Over Thanksgiving weekend, our doggo, Finnegan, started acting very strange. He wouldn't eat and drank very little. That Saturday we rushed Finn to the local emergency vet because he was wobbly when he walked and seemed a bit confused. The vet ran blood work and found elevated pancreatic enzymes. We don't actually know how high his enzymes were. He should have had somewhere around 200; his blood work showed 2,000 but the meter doesn't go above 2,000. As the vet said, it could be 2,001 or it could be 10,000. The vet diagnosed the Finn with pancreatitis, and he sent us home with a prescription food for him, and told us to call him on Monday with an update. By Saturday evening we were force feeding the dog. When we woke up on Sunday, Finnegan couldn't walk and was very confused. Even force feeding him, we couldn't get him to eat a single drop. We rushed him back to the vet on Monday morning. We saw a different, more experienced vet, who said that enzymes that high can only mean cancer that was end stage. We said goodbye to Finn that morning, holding him. Even writing about it now is difficult. 

Fast forwarding, 2025 hasn't seemed quite as difficult, but it hasn't been without its own stressors; but it's also had a lot of inspiration. I've started five brand new writing projects, the final Cryptids is nearly done, and I've had nebulous ideas for even more exciting things. The inspiration I've had this year has been incredible, and cathartic. In April, the idea hit me to write a book about a young man who attends a small, conservative, Christian school (surely I'm not working through something) who gets outted. It's been a wild ride and I was so tapped into the story, I knocked out the complete first draft in 43 days. Even though it still needs a good edit and re-write, I'm immensely proud of it and I can't wait to share it.

That story is a great way for me to move into Pride. Telling that story caused me to re-live some of my own trauma around my schooling. It also was a great reminder of just how important Pride is. It made me wonder how my own experience might have been if I'd have ever seen a Pride celebration, or even had positive representation of queer people. 

I can remember lying in bed at night for years, crying and praying to be fixed; it never occurred to me in my closed, fundamentalist world, that I wasn't broken, that I didn't need God to fix me. What would my formative experience look like if I'd had just a little bit of an example of positive gay people, or Pride. 

The thing is, Pride was a thing when I was growing up. It just wasn't on my radar because gays shouldn't have pride, only shame and repentance.

It took years to get over that damage, and to be completely honest, it still bubbles up from time to time. I remind myself that my religious trauma is where that comes from, not from truth. 

This is why Pride is so important; because even today, maybe especially today, kids are lying in bed, sobbing that they're broken, terrified of their families, their friends, their church finding out; certain that if God doesn't fix them, the only thing awaiting them is a miserable life and flames. 

Today, at least in the US, queer people are facing more attacks than we have in decades, especially our trans siblings. We keep hearing about 'normal gays'. In fact, earlier this month, a statement about suicide prevention said that LGB people deserve the same mental health care as everyone else. It's a statement by omission of who are people. LGB people are people (for now, at least) but trans people are explicitly left out. 

As a queer community, we need to stand like NATO, with Article V, an attack against one is an attack against all, because an attack on one group in our community is only the start. Next will be the so-called normal gays. 

Pride needs to be loud, it needs to be outrageous, and it needs to be visible. It needs to scream "no matter what you think of us, we're people and we aren't going away." It's the old cliche, 'we're here, we're queer, etc.' It needs to be loud because Pride has always been a protest, it's middle finger to those who would oppress us. It needs to be loud so that the queer kid crying and praying to be fixed can see that Pride is here, filled with a beautiful spectrum of people that fits all of us, however we fit into that queer umbrella. We're here, we're all people. 

Sure, some of those small people find our very existence offensive, as if somehow our existence takes something from them. It's time to be offensive, be loud, be visible, be outrageous. Tell those hateful people to go fuck themselves and with the same breath tell that kid in the middle of the country, praying to be straight, that they're not broken, that they are just who they are meant to be, that there is a place for them. 

If you're one of those people waiting to be fixed, with as loud a voice as I have, I tell you, you aren't broken. You are exactly who you're meant to be. Be proud. There is a community waiting for you. 

Above all, as always, remember:

You are seen; you are loved; you matter!

Hi friends,

It has been a while, hasn't it? I've been working hard on multiple different projects and I'm so excited to see how they start coming together. I'm working with a new cover artist, I'm outlining new stories, and more.

If you're one of the folks who already receive my newsletter, you know that I've been working on the diaries of Prince Sebastian from Thy Choicest Gifts. It's been fascinating to dive back into his mind and his story and find out about the young prince as he grew up. If you liked TCG, I think you'll really like this look into Sebastian's younger years, from his early days at Eton, to his first official event as a working member of the Royal family, to much more. 

If royal romance isn't your jam, maybe you loved the Spectrum of Stars Duology. If that's the case, I've got some exciting news for you there too. I'm currently outlining a new story in that universe. Just because Athlen's time in the First Void War is over doesn't mean there aren't many more folks, on both sides, who have stakes and stories. These are still really nebulous story ideas, but I'm excited about them. 

And if you aren't receiving my newsletter, why? Click here and sign up.

Now, to the real point of this blog post. HAPPY PRIDE! 

Yes, I'm aware that Pride Month is nearly over. 

I'm not sure about how it's been for you all, but this month has felt super hectic and chaotic. There are some changes on the horizon and we're super excited about them, but change usually comes with chaos. Sometimes, when life is chaotic, the celebrations seem to get lost. That's normal, and that's okay. 

This is the most chaotic week yet, and yet we've had the chance to celebrate Pride. We've done it in small batches, but we've done it. Let me explain. 

At the beginning of the month, a colleague of Joey's who is an ardent supporter of the Philadelphia Orchestra, invited us to a very intimate PSO Pride celebration at his and his husband's home. It was a very small group but also GAY AS HELL. It was a wonderful event that even had a small, private concert with the Orchestra's principal cellist. It was a wildly surreal event for us. After all, I'm an indie author and Joey's the pastor of a very small Lutheran church, we are hardly rolling in the cash. At one point during the celebration, I turned to him and said "how do we keep ending up at events like this?" He smiled and simply said, "Because we say yes." 

It was a simple, yet profound statement. Sometimes in life, all it takes is a simple yes. We made the decision to say yes to all sorts of events and fundraisers and God knows what else. But that means more than just showing up to celebrations. It means showing up to heartbreak. Sitting with someone when they're in crisis, volunteering your talents somewhere. Saying yes to being present. People remember your presence, at both the good times and the bad times. 

Earlier this week, we joined that same colleague and his husband at the Philadelphia Orchestra Pride Concert. The concert was hosted by the AMAZING Sapphira Cristál It was a glorious celebration of queer composers and musicians. The Orchestra was accompanied by three amazing, local queer choirs, the ANNA Crusis Feminist Choir, the Philadelphia Voices of Pride choir, and the Philadelphia Gay Men's Chorus. We've actually become friends with the outgoing artistic director of the Gay Men's Chorus, and it was wonderful to support him and all the fabulous voices that filled Marian Anderson Hall, formerly Verizon Hall, at the Philadelphia Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts. 

This brings me back to my point about PRIDE. 

All across the country, for the last month, queer voices have joined as a chorus, singing out our celebrations. Celebrations of our identities, of our hard won victories, of the amazing things that make us, as queer people, who we are. There's something liberating about being queer, I think. Yes, it comes with it's own burdens but in some ways, the queer identity is an art in and of itself. And Pride let's us celebrate that.

But that global choir of queer voices don't just sing our joys; it sings our laments as well. It reminds us of what we've lost; friends, families, homes. Sometimes our lives. It sings of young queer people who feel isolated and terrified. It reminds us that while we celebrate our differences, we still are different. And different can be uncomfortable and vulnerable. It sings the lamentation of our broken hearts as we watch our queer siblings being targeted by hatred; hatred that isn't just attacks on the rights of queer people, especially trans folks, but acts of hatred purported to be love.

Those songs of heartbreak make PRIDE all the more important. PRIDE is our big speech at the end of the Independence Day film. "We will not go quietly into the night. We will not vanish without a fight, we're going to live on, we're going to survive." PRIDE is our declaration of our indominable spirit as queer people. 

PRIDE our victory shout. PRIDE is our call to action. 

That action doesn't always need to be huge sacrifices. Not every queer person is a Marsha P Johnson or Harvey Milk. Simple acts of civil rebellion can be just as effective as a march in the streets. 

It's as simple as wearing a rainbow watch band or an HRC equality sticker on your car. Simple things make big changes, acts that other people might not notice, but that queer kid who is convinced he's alone or broken might see that watch band and know, that there is a community here for them. That equality sticker might remind someone that advocacy is as important as a parade. 

PRIDE is loud. It's big. It's often obscene. And it's fucking beautiful. 

But PRIDE can just as easily be those small acts. 

For me, my acts of PRIDE are my books, my unapologetically queer characters. My acts of PRIDE are my rainbow Apple Watch band, or the Pride flag I have hanging in the window of my study. Sometime it's painting my nails the colors of the Pride flag, or the M/M Flag. It's financially supporting advocacy groups, like the Human Rights Campaign or the Trevor Project. It's supporting queer artists and queer business. My act of PRIDE is sometimes living my life out loud by taking my husband's hand in the middle of Philadelphia, or being visible on our date nights. 

I act out my PRIDE for the kid who can't. Because I was that kid. 

I act out my PRIDE for the mother who is terrified that her child is going to be bullied and alone. 

I act out my PRIDE because I have the privilege to do so. And I want others to have that privilege if they want it. 

I act out my PRIDE all damn year long, because we aren't restricted to thirty days in the middle of the year.

PRIDE month is an absurdist, obscene, loud, visible, gaudy, garish, feathery, glittery, half (or more) naked, BEAUTIFUL thing. But it's just the start. PRIDE is support, it's love, it's living. 

So, even if it's quietly, live proudly. Live proudly in your identity. Live proudly in your loving relationships. Live proudly for those who are still figuring it out. Live proudly for those who have gone before us, and for those who lived before they could be proud.

So, say yes.

Live PRIDE.

And above all, no matter what your sexual identity, or you acceptance at home, remember this:

You are seen. You are loved. You matter.

And then there were tears again. We were going to be back, not to Frankenmuth, but we’d be together again. The community, the family that is OUAB would continue.

I looked at my friend, Victoria Perkins, and almost in unison we both said to each other “looks like we’re going to Florida.”

Having this information made the second day of the event, the signing, an even more amazing experience. It was a general celebration without the looming feeling of ‘this is it.’

Last year at OUAB I felt like I’d made in roads and met some amazing people who I now think of as friends. This year was more of that, but it also felt like the nurturing of those relationships. Deepening the connections I’d made and making new ones. So far, both OUAB events that I’ve attended have felt life changing. I have no doubt that they will continue to change my life. 
​
With OUAB 2023 over, it became time to double down. 

Earlier this week, I finished the next draft of The Cryptid Chronicles, book two, and I’ve got a title reveal coming this fall (stay tuned), there are a half dozen new ideas I’m stewing on, on top of the dozen that I’m already working on! 
No rest for the wicked. 

And I’m fine with that, honestly. There’s not really anything else in the world I’d rather do. 

Art is sacred, I think. It reveals truths about who we are, as observers, and, in my opinion, as human beings. 

That means storytelling is sacred. All storytelling. The format doesn’t matter, from the great epics and high brow ‘literature’ to fan fictions posted online. The genre doesn’t matter. From adventures and high fantasy, to the smuttiest of romance novels; they all reveal deep truths about ourselves. They all tell pieces of the human story and build community and family. That is sacred. 

Those of us who are fortunate enough to get to express ourselves, our art, in the form of stories get to be the voices of those truths. And damn it if that doesn’t feel like something amazing. 

While at Once Upon A Book, I got to talk to people that love to consume those stories. They reach for them because they crave something. Sometimes it’s a change of perspective, sometimes it’s an escape from reality, sometimes it seems as simple as a means of entertainment. But I think at the very core of it, it’s because we all crave to experience those truths that stories reveal.

Last year, I got to have a life changing conversation with a young man about queer visibility. This year I was proud to be more visible as a gay man, as well as to have dozens of conversations about queer visibility, about possible responsibility as a queer person for the next generation, and about representation. I got to have conversations about our art and about nurturing our artists within, and about the value of art. 

Art is one of those incredible places where we are seen, it's the soul of society. It’s the very spirit of us as a race. It is inestimably important and therefore, priceless.

Art costs time, effort, talent, and money. And it deserves all of that. 

Over August, I was able to build up the list of subscribers to my newsletter, The Write Stuff (if you aren’t subscribed, please consider it. I promise I won’t bombard you with crap.) Over the next several newsletters, look out for new artwork based on folks and scenes in my books. 

I hope that for each and every one of you, the summer is special, is life-changing and soul feeding. I know that OUAB did that for me and I can only hope the summer keeps going that way. 

For the next few weeks, I’ll be doubling down even harder, getting more and more of the final book in the Cryptid Chronicles done. Which, is weird in and of itself, but that’s for a different post. 

I hope you are all well. Stay safe, stay cool, take care of yourselves, and take care of each other.

And always remember:
​
You are seen, you are loved, you matter.

Hi Friends!

Here we are again. PRIDE 2023. In some ways it feels like it PRIDE 22 was just a few months ago and in some ways it feels like it was a decade ago. 

I admit that I've put this post off quite a bit this year. I've been really struggling to come up with what to say this PRIDE. I don't know why PRIDE posts can seem so difficult. I rarely feel like I'm at a lack for words. Last year's was difficult too but it still was easier than this year.  

And then, as I showered this morning, a seed of an idea started to blossom, and it was watered by the hot waters of my shower.

I think I'm coming to realize that each year, the "why" of PRIDE is little different for me. Last year I talked about the strides we've made in terms of queer representation in the media. The year before was more of a response to a single situation. 

This year, I want to talk about what in the 'queer world' that makes me feel PRIDE. 

I don't talk much about my husband on here, mostly because I want to respect his own privacy. But since I'm talking about things that make me feel PRIDE, I'm gonna dote on him for a moment. 

My husband, Joseph, is a pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. And I know. I know. The word 'evangelical' is pretty terrifying for a lot of queer people. But this is one of those places where the real meaning of words matter. The ELCA is not a fundamentalist evangelical church, even if the 'E' is for evangelical. In fact they've been ordaining gay folks since 2009. (And had an outside procedure called "Extraordinary Lutheran Ministries" to help ordain gay pastors even before that.) Any way moving on. This year, Joey's synod held a PRIDE event on the 1st of June. They invited Joey to be the guest preacher!

Now, this is the part where I'm a bad husband, because I actually didn't go to the event, I stayed home and packed for a whirlwind trip to Chicago that we left on the next morning at an ungodly time. 

But despite the fact that I didn't go, knowing who my husband is, and knowing how he preaches, I know that it's given me a feeling of PRIDE. 

Next up is a friend of mine. Who is also a pastor. And some of you might actually know who he is! A few years ago, the Netflix show, Queer Eye, spent an entire season in Philadelphia. If you watched that season (season 5) you'll no doubt remember the gay pastor, the Reverend Noah Hepler. Well, Noah is a friend of mine. I'd go so far as to call him one of my best friends. I watch the following Noah has and how he engages with folks on social media, as well as when we talk or get together. Despite the trolls and those who try to tear him down, Noah always deals with those situations with dignity, and a level head. Seeing how he deals with that and how he maintains his beliefs gives me the PRIDE feeling. Also, those of you who watched the show know he was working on his PhD. Well, he finally got it. 

Both Joey and Noah are shining examples of faith and sexuality not being at odds, but being interwoven.

Another is my editor, Janel. Janel works an incredibly difficult job as an educator. And then after teaching, reads my mess of drafts and manages not to wring my neck or the students. Janel is a brilliant mother who puts every ounce of energy into be the best mom, professor, and editor possible. Janel is a brilliant example of queer parenthood, of a queer teacher, and honestly, one of my very best friends. Janel makes me feel PRIDE.

But the things that make me feel that queer pride aren't just the people I love. They're people who I've never met, people who I'll never meet. Stories of kids standing up to their school boards to protect queer books. Young queer actors who live their lives genuinely and authentically, who tell queer stories that we deserve. 

I also feel PRIDE when I listen to straight members of my family. Members who have learned so much about queer life in order to understand queer loved ones. I feel PRIDE when I open my professional Facebook page and I see all these amazing author colleagues making Pride posts and celebrating queer diversity.

I'm gonna tell a quick story now. It happened several years ago. But when I think about it, it gives me the feeling of PRIDE. My cousin has a young son (well actually now she's got a whole herd of kids).  Joey and I had gone back to Ohio for a visit, about two years after we got married and moved to Philadelphia. We were with my aunt and my cousin (this aunt is also the cousin's aunt, not her mom) I was in the front seat of the car with my aunt. Joey, my cousin, and her son (who is maybe 6 at the time) were in the back seat. He asked her "Mommy, are you and daddy married?" My cousin says, "no we aren't." He thinks about it for a moment. "Is uncle blah and blah blah married?" Again my cousin says no. "Okay, what about Mark and Joey?" She answers yes and thinks about it before laughing and saying 'if that doesn't blow up 'traditional values'' and we all laughed. Years earlier the same group of us were in the car, and the same son of my cousin looks at Joey and me and then says "Yoey, are you Mark's girlfriend?" Now, we all laughed about it for a second and my cousin said "Joey's a boy so he's Mark's boyfriend but it's the same." He smiled and simply said "Okay!" Regardless of not fully getting the language of it, he was able to recognize the relationship and his mom had done a great job of making sure it was simply normal - whatever normal means. The idea of two boys or two girls in romantic relationships wasn't something he ever questioned. Now fast forward a few years, just after Opportunity came out. This same cousin messaged me to tell me that the son had been suspended from school for a day because he slapped a classmate who was making fun of a queer classmate. My cousin wasn't angry with him. And yes, I know, violence isn't the answer. I get that, but damn it, some times you've just gotta revel in homophobes getting smacked around a bit. That all made me feel PRIDE.

Here's another one. Alan Turing. Plenty of people know that Turing is considered the father of modern computers. It was his work that helped crack the Nazi codes in World War II. Turing was also a gay man (and isn't that delicious that Nazi codes were cracked by someone they hated!)

Another one for you. Since you guys already know how much I love space and the space shuttle. Sally Ride. In 1983 Dr. Sally Ride became the first American woman to go into space on the shuttle Challenger. And while Dr. Ride chose to keep her personal life private, when she passed away just a few years ago, her obituary confirmed that she had been in a monogamous relationship with the same woman for 27 years, making Doctor Ride not just America's first female astronaut, but the first known queer person in space.  

But science isn't the only field where queer people exist that make me feel PRIDE. Writing is filled with queer folks who've mastered the use of words to paint incredible pictures, either with books, screenplays or with songs. The first that come to mind are the likes of Oscar Wilde, Lee Daniels, Russel T. Davies, Alice Oseman, Christopher Isherwood, Steven Sondheim (caveat: I am not a big fan of Sondheim, but his contributions to music and theatre can't be overlooked), Albert Atlee, Becky Albertalli, Adam Silvera, Sir Francis Bacon, Christopher Colfer, Sir Elton John, James Baldwin, Emily Dickenson, Allen Ginsberg, Larry Kramer, Terrance McNally, Jonathan Larson, Wilfred Owen. The list goes on and on. This is just a miniscule sampling of the contributions we've made to story telling.

And then there's singers and actors. People like Elliot Page, Matt Bomer, Ben Whishaw, Janelle Monae, Sarah Paulson, Kate McKinnon, Titus Burgess, Wilson Cruz, Lee Pace, Yazmin Finney, BD Wong, Samira Wiley, Billy Porter, Sam Smith, Sir Elton John (again), Tig Notaro, Lavern Cox, Troye Sivan, Joe Locke, Rock Hudson, Anthony Perkins, Kit Conner, Jonathan Bailey, Sir Ian McKellan, Jodie Foster, Stephen Fry, Olly Alexander, Jane Lynch, Freddie Mercury, Rufus Wainwright and more and more and more.  

These lists are in no way comprehensive. 

My point with this is that we are at the cutting edge and forefront of every major field. We've revolutionized the world, fought tyranny, and we've contributed to global culture, and in many cases, created it. 

This makes me feel PRIDE.

PRIDE in who we are, PRIDE in what we've done, PRIDE in what we're doing, and PRIDE in what we will do. 

So let's have PRIDE in who we are, and what we've done. 

But also, let's keep talking about it. What queer person makes you feel PRIDE? Seriously, I'm truly asking. Comment!

Keep your PRIDE about you, not just in PRIDE month, but always, because only you can be you. And that's something to be proud of.

And above all, remember:

You are seen, You are loved. You matter.

Well, well, well! Fancy seeing you here again, Friends,

It's been a wild few months since I'd posted anything here. So far in 2023, I've finished edits and getting betas for TWO that's right two, new books! (Ok so that's a technicality, it's a single story that I sliced up into two books. But still, two books.)

Joey and I took a mini trip down to Rehoboth Beach for a night to just disconnect from all the craziness around us, and spend time just us together. It was a great night. 

We've had a couple weekends with visitors. In fact, we hosted a get together we called our 'toxic exs' party. We watched the musical, stage version of the Heathers, and made drinks that representing exs. I served simply a shot of bitters - because short and bitter. That's all I'll say! haha. 

I also spent time and set up my welcome email, and started working on how I'm going to do newsletters! You should totally sign up!

The next few months for me (possibly the rest of the year) are going to be pretty busy too.

On May 2nd, the first book in my new sci-fi duology releases. And just five short weeks later, on June 6th, the second part will come out. Yup, rapid releasing that. Partly because I'm trying something new with releases, and partly because I'm really excited for everyone to experience the full story. 

I've connected with this one on a level that I'd never expected. It was only supposed to be an exercise. I'm not a big fan of writing in the first person. I feel so limited by it. Third person give more scope. So for 2021's NaNoWriMo, I decided to experiment, to do something to grow my writing abilities. Every new thing is a learning experience, right? Well, the story that I started, which was supposed to be rather short, at most 55K words, hooked me. I became absolutely addicted to it and because of the nature of the story, the limits of first person actually made it easier. I ended up falling in love with the characters and just kept writing! I wrote more than I'd ever planned to for it and realized I'd stumbled into a story that I now needed to tell. 

Once I'd decided that this was a project I wanted to actually develop and something I'd commit my energy and time to, the word count exploded, and I found that I'd set subconsciously set goals for the story. I decided I wanted to tell an authentic autist's story in a war. I wanted it to not be the story of the quiet kid with autism being like a superpower, and I didn't want it to boil him down to just the autist. I wanted to tell a story about the horrors of war but leave some small sliver of hope. I wanted to tell a sex positive story that had romantic elements that wasn't a romance, and I wanted to avoid the 'chosen one' trope.

And I think I succeeded. Even if it went from 50,000 words to 130,000 words.

After many conversations with my editor and a friend who I'd inundated with snippets and ideas, it became clear that it was too much for a single book, and it had a natural breaking point to split the story. So I re-worked some of it make the break fit. 

And now it's done. Now both books are done and they're coming down the pike fast. The Stars Are Black and Cold is just over two weeks away. The second part, In the Shadow of Stars, is just five weeks after. 

So, here goes nothing.

After the book release, I've got Once Upon A Book coming in July. I really, really can't wait for that. Last year was my first year at the event. And yes I was there with a MASSIVE toothache, and yes I did end up getting COVID while I was there, but honestly, given the interactions I had, it was worth it. It was so worth it. I got to meet readers and reviewers and other incredible authors. I met folks I'm proud to call colleagues, and even happier to think of some of them as my friends. 

And I know this year is going to be even better! So yeah, I can't wait. 

**Side note: Once Upon A Book is going to be held at the Bavarian Inn in Frankenmuth, MI on July 14th and 15. If you have the time to travel up there, or are in the area and want to attend, please let me know. As an attending author, I get a few free tickets! Click here and send me and email.**

After Once Upon A Book, I get a week to decompress - alone. The day I get back from Michigan, Joey leaves for a work conference in Arizona... in July. Because that's going to be a comfortable week... 

Then, one of my best friends is coming to visit for a week. Jesse is a writer too, and as much of a history nerd as I am, so we'll have a good time of it while he's here, writing and nerding out over history, watching one of our favorite queer shows (which will hopefully have season 2 out). And all around being idiots. It'll be a great way for me to take a break from the crazy year, for just a week.

After that, things will pick up again. I'll be refocusing on the next draft of the third Cryptids books, and all while gearing up for the summer 2024 release of Cryptids II. 

Then in September, we're going on an incredible vacation. We're off to the UK, and then an amazing transatlantic crossing on the way home. This trip is our way of celebrating our ten year anniversary. 

Part of why we like cruising is because when you're at sea, it's much easier to disconnect. Much more difficult for people to get a hold of you and even if they somehow can, there's nothing we can do about it. It forces us to actually relax and be on vacation. 

It'll also be important to me because I'm a Titanic researcher. We're going to be staying in the hotel that used to be the offices of Harland and Wolff shipbuilders in Belfast. H&W built Titanic. So that's going to be a massively emotional experience. 

Once we get home from our trip, I'll have VERY little time to prepare for NaNoWriMo which will consume November. 

Then the holidays. 

Like I said, the rest of the year is a wildly busy period for me. And that's okay. I know how to take care of myself (even if I don't always take my own advice), and I've got a great group of caring people who are my found family. 

I can't wait to see what the rest of 2023 will bring, throughout all these amazing events. 

Even with it being as busy as it is going to be, one of the most important things for me (and all of us) to remember, other than taking care of ourselves, is to stay ourselves. Don't let ourselves get so caught up in the fast paced lives we're in, or the projects we're working on, or the people we're surrounded by, that we lose ourselves. 

Our universe is 13.5 billion years old. There are 200 billion trillion stars in the universe (yes that's billion trillion. Not a mistake). Each of those stars could have dozens of worlds. And there are literally unknowable amounts of worlds that could have life. It has taken 5 billion years for our star to get to its age, and 3.7 billion years for life on Earth to get to this point. And yet, among those incomprehensible numbers and despite the infinitesimally small possibility, you are you and you are the only you. You are the culmination of billions of years and nearly infinite permutations and chances. And regardless of if you believe in a god of some sort or if you believe purely in science, if you're a person of any faith or a person of none, you are exactly how you are. And who you are is infinitely valuable. Because mathematically, there's no reason for any of this.

And yet, in this moment, in this strange equation of possibilities, you're you, and you're the only one there is. And I'm me, and I'm the only me there is. 

Maybe the age of the universe, the number of stars and planets and all those incredibly absurd numbers and possibilities might make you feel small, I know when taken for just that, it makes me feel small, but in the end, the perfect chain of events occurred to create each and every one of us. A chain of events that created each of us differently, and unique. We are one human family, yes. But we are also each special, and different, and amazing, and beyond value. 

And to know each other, even through these small windows on a computer, and to consider you friends and family, is a gift of the highest order. 

You are important, to yourself, to those around you and to me. You're a gift, created by an infinite number of events going back 13.5 billion years. And now two person's events are the same. 

Because you are important and special and unique, be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. Take the time, in the middle of the craziness of work and projects and vacations and travel and everything else going on in your life to take a deep breath, look around even for just a moment. Value each moment, because like you, it's unique and it'll never come again.

Know your value.

And because those around you are important and special and unique, be kind to others, take care of each other. Love each other. 

And as always remember:

You are seen. You are loved. You matter.

Hi friends!

Wow, it's been a bit, hasn't it? We've made it through the holiday season and are out the other side. Maybe life is finally starting to slow down for you. I know it is for me.

I did NaNoWriMo in November and while I wasn't completely happy with the result, I did successfully 'win' the WriMo. I'll probably revisit the project sometime and hack away at it until I find something redeemable about it. But till then... I'll work on the way too many other projects I have. 

After WriMo, the holidays were in full swing; well actually, they were in full swing even before NaNoWriMo ended. 

The holidays are a strange time for me. The nature of them; the gathering of friends and those we're close with is always wonderful, especially now that we're finally starting to move toward something that resembles normalcy, after so long. The decorations are always fun for a while - though admittedly, if you put them up too early or leave them too late, I find it tiresome. 

It's always so rough for me around the holidays, a series of hits that have led to an overall downturn in my wellbeing. This year was equally as tough. Coupled with the fact we had Christmas guests. Which isn't necessarily a problem. But when you're struggling to just get through a day, having to be 'on' the whole time takes a very real toll. But I've got an amazing therapist who helped keep me together, and I've got a great 'found family.' (If you're interested, check out my facebook page for my Christmas Message for my thoughts about found family and more.)

I've been thinking a lot these weeks since the holidays, about self care and how important it is. My dearest friend has a routine of self care that she follows religiously. During a weekend I spent with her, we talked about self care, about what we do to keep ourselves grounded and how we take care of ourselves and I found my own self care quite lacking. We spent time doing a self care evening. Coming out of that time with her, I decided that it was something that I wanted to try on my own, to see if it had the same calming and grounding effect on me as it had when I'd been with my friend. And it did. And that ended up being what she got me for Christmas, a fantastic little self care bundle. I took a look at some of the other things she does (like a Sunday bath with wine) and changed it up a bit. I'm not a big fan of baths personally. I can't help but think about sitting in a lukewarm, human stew of all the gunk and detritus from my body... I'm much more a fan of a scalding hot shower. So as I moved into 2023, I decided that I was going to make it a point of adopting a self care routine and I've been pretty faithful to it so far. Sunday evening, a face mask, a glass or two of wine, while listening to my favorite podcast (Help I Sexted My Boss - the UK's leading etiquette expert and his friend a BBC radio personality tackle some outrageous written in questions and the etiquette expert tries to give the 'appropriate' reply while the radio personality responds with ridiculous and fun advice of his own all while the two drink gin and dubonnets [G&Ds they've started calling them]) and then a hot shower with an aroma therapeutic shower steamer. And the thing about it is, none of it is particularly expensive. A Target run and I had eight masks for fifteen dollars, the steamers are from Bath and Body Works and they were sixteen dollars for eleven, my podcast costs nothing. So really the whole kit and caboodle cost under four bucks. And that's a hell of a good return on investment, if you ask me. 

And now through the holiday season; we're settling into 2023 (I'm still writing 2022 on everything) and with a new routine to keep me grounded and energized, I'm refocusing on my writing. I've got several projects I'm working on right now, and I've got some announcements coming this year. As well as some big asks. 

This year is going to be an amazing year, I think. Another book is coming, (look for it in the spring), Once Upon A Book in July. In August, Joey and I will celebrate our tenth anniversary since we got married. 

If you know me well (or personally in any capacity really) you'll know that one of my greatest passions beyond the written word is the RMS Titanic. I've given lectures and done thousands of hours of research. I'm very proud of what I've contributed to keep the story and history going. And I admittedly have an emotional connection to the ship. 

So for our tenth anniversary, we're taking an incredible vacation. We're starting off in Belfast, Northern Ireland, staying in the hotel that was once the offices of the company that built the Titanic. We'll spend some time there, and I'll get the chance to physically be there, where the ship was birthed. I'll weep. I have no doubt of that. After a few days in Belfast, we're flying down to Southampton and boarding a cruise ship for an incredible fifteen night transatlantic crossing. The ship is leaving from the same dock the Titanic left from. 

Our trip is going to be amazing, not just because of what we're doing. But because we're also sharing it with a couple who've become some of our closest friends, who are also celebrating their tenth. They'll join us for the trip and I'll surely annoy all with my incessant factoids and random emotional outbursts. 

2023 will have a lot of wild things coming, great things to be sure. 

This year, I'm going to endeavor to treat others and myself more compassionately.  I hope you'll all find ways to do the same, ways to treat each other with love and compassion.  

I think we too often think of love as a feeling. We can't control our feelings. We can control how we react to them, but the feelings themselves happen. When we boil love down simply to a feeling, it takes responsibility away. Love isn't just a feeling, love is an action. Love is how we treat people. The action of love forces us to ask ourselves questions that we might not want to answer. Questions like "do I really try to help people?" and "do I do anything to strive for justice - real justice, not legal justice?". 

So I challenge you, the same way I'm challenging myself, to act out love. Make it as much an action as it is a feeling. Love your neighbor. Love each other. Love yourself.

And as always, my friends, remember.

You are seen. You are loved. You matter.

Hi Friends!

Today is National Coming Out Day! But also... Wow, it feels like it's been a long time since I last posted a blog update and so much has happened since June. So I guess I'll start nearer to where we left off, before we get into the meat of today.

July had some wild things happen, not the least of which was the release of The Cryptid Chronicles: Here Be Monsters. And let me say, you guys showed up. The response to HBM has been wild and I'm blown away. 

The reason I even bring the response up is because of how long it's been to get to the point where Here Be Monsters would be ready to publish. The whole story of the Cryptid Chronicles started in 2007, I think, so it's been stewing for a long time. It's been a whole journey of so many nights where I got way too little sleep, crying over not having a clue what the heck I was doing with the story, the characters absolutely rebelling against my plan, telling myself so many times that I had no right to even think of myself as a writer, and then finally the bittersweet exuberance of finishing the last chapter of the book. More than once, I had walked away from it, genuinely believing that the story should, and would be abandoned. But Cryptids just wouldn't go quietly into that good night. And now, more than a decade later, the second book is with my editor and the third and final book is actually coming together, fully outlined and plot mapped! So that's all a thing that happened. 

Also in July, I attended the Once Upon A Book event in Frankenmuth, Michigan. And wow what an amazing experience. It was amazing to get to know other authors, readers and reviewers. I attended the conference along with Janel, my editor who also tagged along as my assistant for the weekend, as well as my close friend; author Victoria Perkins, as well as Krystal, who came as Vikki's assistant. The convention was an amazing and validating experience, both as an author and as a gay man. I'll get back to that part later though.

But OUAB wasn't without it's own set off issues.  The convention was starting on a Friday, which meant I was traveling on Thursday. Well, late Monday night, I started feeling a pretty intense pain in my right, bottom, wisdom tooth. (Yes, I was one of those weird 35 year olds with their wisdom teeth.) Now, I've got a rather high pain tolerance, so when I awoke at 2:30 am on Tuesday in EXCRUTIATING pain, I knew it was bad and I naturally consulted Doctor Google, who immediately told me I had an abscess and would die in a matter of hours. So, I called my dentist at 7:30 in the morning and got an appointment for that afternoon which I expected to be an emergency root canal. 

In the end, as I'm sure you guessed, it was not an abscess, but rather a structural deformity in my tooth that led to a small crack that went RIGHT TO THE NERVE. My dentist told me to see an oral surgeon to have the tooth pulled. Unfortunately the surgeon couldn't get me in before the convention, so I did OUAB in pain, which I coped with... I could deal with the pain as long as I knew it wasn't going to kill me. 

I returned from the conference Sunday night and had an appointment for Wednesday afternoon... great.

Alas, it wasn't to be, on Tuesday, I discovered that I'd brought a hitchhiker home from the conference with me. Covid-19. By the grace of God, I was able to get a telehealth visit that night with my doctor who immediately prescribed me Paxlovid which got me through it pretty unscathed. Joey didn't do quite as well, and he had a bad fever and body aches. We made it through okay. But this meant I had to have the surgery postponed.  

So, more than a week later, I'm finally doing better and have an appointment on a Monday to finally have the tooth pulled. 

Skip to that Monday, the surgeon is in my mouth, and I'm full of Novocain. She's tugging and drilling and I'm crying. The surgeon realizes that I can feel everything she's doing so she goes in with four more full vials of Novocain, and we're off to the races again, drilling and tugging and I can still feel everything. At that point she tells me she's not comfortable doing it without me being sedated, but she can't do it that day. So I've got to come back that Friday. She also suggests that, all four of my wisdom teeth have similar defects and we'd be back year after year, so since I'm under, maybe we should just take all four. That seemed like a better option than doing this whole song and dance again so that was the plan. 

But in the mean time, I had to wait until Friday, with my now split open tooth, in even MORE pain. 

Thankfully, when Friday came around, the surgeon was able to put me under, get all four out and have me back around, all in about 35 minutes. But naturally, because I'd been anesthetized, Joey had to come and drive me home. Which was apparently pretty funny, since I just kept telling anyone who'd listen how pretty Joey is. The recovery period was utterly painless, and my mouth hasn't felt ANY pain since the surgeon put me under. So that was good.

September came around and I was able to get some more writing done, which was great, seeing how it had been tough writing anything between the conference, Covid, and my teeth. I was able to finish a draft of the sci-fi I'd been working on, and get that off to my editor, as well as receive Cryptids 2 from my editor and get it to a beta reader. The book is now in the third draft phase. 

On top of finishing a book and drafting another, Joey and I went on our annual cruise vacation. Our friends Lauren and Andrew came with us and we had an amazing time.

Jump again to October, and I've felt like my life is still moving at a million miles a minute. I started working on notes for this year's NaNoWriMo. I'm pretty happy about it, actually. But I've also had a work conference. I sit on the board for that colleague group, so that was a whole ball of stress. And then last weekend, Joey and I took a mini vacation with some friends up to the Finger Lakes region where we toured so many wineries and pretended we were 21 again. Two and a half days of being wine drunk is a whole thing. But it was a great trip.

And that brings us to today. Today is National Coming Out Day, which happens to also be the day that I posted my first blog post ever, several years ago. It's a day, in some ways, of visibility. And I want to tell a quick story of something that happened at Once Upon A Book, that illustrates the importance of that visibility. 

Early in the morning of the signing event at the conference, I had my table set up and some of those attending - readers, reviews, etc. - were just starting to enter the convention hall. As you can see from the image above, the PRIDE flag is front and center. I made this decision for a two reasons, one, so that people who were looking for queer stories could recognize it as a place to find them and so that those who don't want those stories could easily see that and know this isn't their bag without having a conversation that could turn uncomfortable for either of us. 

As the attendees are entering the space, one young man, about 16 years old, makes his way around the convention hall and stops a few yards away from my table and just stares at me, before continuing his way around the space. Then he does it again, stopping and watching me. Then he does it again. And to be honest, I was preparing myself for some unpleasant conversations. After several loops through the space, the young man, starts stepping up to my table and I was braced for impact. 

The young man puts his hands on the flag, smoothing it a bit under his palms, before he leans forward, across the table and whispers, "I thought I was going to be the only one here."

When I tell you my heart broke, I can assure you that those words fall short of what I felt. I told him that he's never alone. We continued, having a brief conversation before he moved along. 

An hour later, the young man returns, this time with his mother. I wasn't sure what to expect, but any fear was quickly quelled when the mom thanked me for displaying the flag. She told me that he's always alone or afraid of being alone and that seeing someone proudly displaying the PRIDE flag and taking the time to have a conversation with him made him feel seen and included, like there was something to be excited about. They ended up getting all three of my books and before the convention was over, just a few hours later, the young man had returned again, more than half way through Thy Choicest Gifts and as in love with Sebastian and Rory as much as I am. 

The conference was a huge success for me, multiple reviewer and readers; I sold out of Thy Choicest Gifts and Cryptids; and Opportunity wasn't far off either, but what made the whole thing worth it for me was the time I got interacting with that young man. If I didn't meet another person or sell a single book, it was all worth it to have that opportunity. It reminded my of just how important visibility is. 

Being visible to the next generation of young, queer folks is massively important. We all know that feeling of being alone, afraid that there isn't anyone within a hundred miles who understands. And that loneliness is made all the worse when those lonely people hear refrains of hatred. The simple fact is that those comments and that loneliness drives far too many of us to the worst possible actions.

Visibility matters.

And not simply to remind each other that none of us are alone, but so that as other, non-queer people see it; it makes us seem less out of the ordinary; it shows them that we really are everywhere and we always have been. Queer visibility matters for each and every person, gay, bi, lesbian, straight, trans, cis, non-binary, queer gender, gender non-conforming, curious, and anyone else possible out there. 

Visibility matters. 

And so I leave you this National Coming Out Day with this reminder, as always:

You are seen; You are loved; You matter.