Heya! Yes-- the last post was pretty bleak, and there's not much I can do about that. Many of you know that I've been on leave from my job for the last fifteen months, and you know why. You know why I'm so adamant that my work is not porn, and why I believe romance--all romance, gay, straight, and in between--is a real, integral part of life. You know why I think that writing is vital to humanity as a whole. In October of 2010, I came home in the middle of the day facing the very real possibility that I would never teach (at my old site at the very least) again. I told my husband that it boiled down to someone looking at Truth in the Dark--easily one of the most beautiful things I've ever written-- and upon seeing two male leads, pronouncing the work porn.
And Mate said the one thing I've always treasured. He said, "Well, at least it was something important."
Yes, it was important. It still is important. So Tuesday night, I cleaned out my classroom--and it was hard. The place had been used as a storehouse for six months, and it hurt, there's no two ways about it. But it's done, and I"ll post about it soon (have had the post, in fact, written for a week, ever since we knew about the resolution to the matter) but in the meantime, yesterday, the winners of the Rainbow Awards came out. Now, normally, I'm not all jumpy and squeally about awards. I'm more quietly pleased--and always, always, very grateful, and very flattered. But, well, the timing was just very very good.
A Solid Core of Alpha took second in science fiction.
Hammer and Air took honorable mention in fantasy.
Living Promises took honorable mention in contemporary.
And Amy Lane as an author was given an honorable mention here.
So here I am, up against the best of the best in my genre--and I'm not doing half bad. And what I'm doing is important. And no, folks, not even a little bit, is it porn.
So, my friend and I were cleaning out my classroom, and I had my iPod plugged into a little speaker--I wasn't kidding about the soundtrack, those were some of the songs that showed up, and, me being me, they helped. And this one was the last one, playing as I wrote the note on the board and picked up the last box. And I still love it. Will always love it. But it's always going to mean that moment to me, and I'm always going to be bleeding it out.