Thanks to my Patreon subscribers for a great chat! The July short story will be another in the series of shorts continuing to follow Brenna Lanigan and Cassidy Hyland (from my novels Turning Point and Turn for Home) as they travel to Ireland for a family vacation.
If you haven’t yet met Brenna and Cassidy, my publisher Supposed Crimes has their story in ebook and paperback.
If you’re interested in an autographed hardcover of Turning Point, message me. I have a few available for $10 (which includes media mail shipping in the US).
Thanks also to my Patreon subscribers, I am able to support Boston Bisexual Women’s Network and a number of other creatives in the LGBTQ artistic community.
This Pride Month, I am particularly focused on community and creative support. The pandemic has devastated many communities and families through death, yes, but also simply the situation of separation that has led to a decline in connection. Zoom and other social media are wonderful, but there is a uniqueness to how in-person physical contact, a hug, or simply being present in the same space en masse nurtures feeling part of something.
I learned recently of the death of a woman whom I had been creatively connected to a dozen years ago. She died alone with no blood family or a life partner who would claim her ashes from the coroner. Her landlord was able to make contact with one of her online friends. Now a group of people, connected through several fandoms, have fundraised for the release of her ashes. There will be a celebration beachside near her home. Leftover funds are going to a bench that will bear her name so that she will always be remembered.
Shamefully I only live about two hours away from her and except for an email a half year ago, the last time we had contact was in 2012 when she came to Orlando for a convention. I kept telling myself I needed to pick up my ass and drive out to visit her. But I kept making excuses of time and other obligations and didn’t. Now I can’t.
Don’t be like me. Visit people, keep in touch. Make memories, not regrets.