SeaHeart

As Jenn's actual birthday (yesterday) was spent in celebration, this is the morning where I post the birthday post--I hope you'll indulge a lot of joy and love here. <3 <3 <3

Though this is from Rachel's photo stream, I took this picture. I'll never forget when Rachel laughed, handed the camera over to me and pointed to it: "it's so obvious you took this one," she said with a grin, "Jenn only ever looks at you like that." <33333333333333


On Friday night, Jenn and I curled up with some pressies and tea, cuddling together, listening to the roaring of the wind outside. Eight years to the moment before that, a nervous young woman packed her old suitcase, staring out the window at the glittering stars, wondering what the next day would hold. That young woman was me. And though I'd professed undying love to Jenn three months before, I had never met her--and, until two days previous--had not even seen a picture of her.

Here's the big spoiler alert: the next day, I rode an old Greyhound bus down to Pittsburgh, fell into Jenn's arms and found true love. And though ten million things had to happen, five thousand stars had to align and the world had to spin in a certain, almost impossible way for us to meet and fall in love, it did. And I have spent every day of my life from that one trying to articulate my gratitude, living to love her.

So, you must know that Jenn's birthday is my favorite day in the world. My beautiful bride was born on that day, and there's no better span of hours I can think of to celebrate. My life was made complete, my joy made physical in her presence and her love.

I love this woman more than anything.


As we looked through some of the letters we'd sent to each other in the beginnings, the books we made for each other, the poems and stories we'd written for each other, the countless, countless cards, I had one of those moments where you look at your life and the place you've ended up, and you can't believe it actually happened, and maybe you have this totally bizarre and improbable fear that there is some other Sarah in some other place without her Jenn, and how lonely and sad and small she is without knowing true love.

But then, of course, since it's a blustery night, and you have tea and your sweetheart, you push such a very silly, dramatic thought from your head and kiss your wife for good measure. Because she's real, and she's here, and it happened. The big, beautiful "it" of finding your soul mate, of about-to-be-stepping-into-a-birthday-weekend-of-bliss, of being side by side with the most important person in the world. And just being grateful.

I have these random moments sometimes, where I "wake up." It'll be a perfectly normal day, we'll be having this ridiculous conversation, and I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe, and I wake up. And I look at her, and I get this thudding in my heart, and I KNOW in that moment how precious things are, how precious she is, how precious what we have is, and I just gather her into my arms, press her head to my heart and kiss her. I don't know why the Universe gave me this gift, I can't understand how the ten million things that had to go right did in order for us to be together.

But, as always, I spend the rest of my life in awe of the beauty of love. And living to love her.

Happy birthday, beautiful, my baby, my everything. I. Love. You.

(This was originally written for The Sorcery of Love, so I refer to myself as Elora herein. <3)

~*~

Happy, happy Valentine's Day! <3

We've waited forever to announce this--we wanted to wait until today, V-Day, because WE LIKE SPECIAL THINGS TO HAPPEN ON SPECIAL DAYS. ;D

You know that I'm Elora Bishop--that I write magical lesbian love stories (and lesbian YA love stories as another name), but you might not know that my wife, Jennifer Diemer, is also a writer. A supremely talented one at that (which, I realize you'll have to take with a grain of salt since she's my wife, and you know how very much I love her, but really--WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE)--she has a degree in creative writing (graduating at the head of her class, of course--she's a perfectionist!), is a world-class editor, and an amazing, amazing storyteller. We've had quite a few writing projects together that were just for us, or that we haven't OFFICIALLY announced to the world yet, but one of our oldest ones was an old zine online (sadly, defunct for years now!) that we put up in 2004/2005, called Inamorata. It was a compendium of fairy tales, retold as lesbian. It was one of my favorite things that we've ever shared together. <3

But my wife Jenn and I have been retelling fairy tales as lesbian for far longer than that--as long as we've been writing. Fairy tales are part and parcel of who we are--they're in our blood. We were married in fairy wings, have bits of fairy tales tattooed on our skin, and we even take very old, unloved fairy tale books and re-envision them as wearable art. Fairy tales are utterly essential to who we are as people, and who we are as a wife and wife duo. <3

The thing is, that--though we love fairy tales deeply--something has always felt...off for us, in the fairy tale world. You know--the fact that there were no women like us: ladies who love other ladies.

So, like any authors would do...we set about and changed that. And we want to do it again. <3

There are very, very, very few lesbian retellings of fairy tales. Most of them are erotica--which, there is ALWAYS a place for erotica, but I also believe that there is a place for creative, literary re-envisionings of all of the major fairy tales (and some that most people have forgotten about!) that are NOT erotica, but are, rather, stories about women who love other women, who are courageous, who kicks ass, who wear their crowns tilted sideways, who have daring adventures and magical encounters and who fall madly and completely in love and get their fairy tale endings.

And so, Jenn and I are pleased to present a series of novellas entitled Sappho's Fables. We have taken all of the most well known fairy tales, some from long ago that we already retold, some that we are redoing all over again, and releasing them individually as eBooks for each novella, and then volumes of collected novellas that will also be available in print. The first three stories that we chose are:

Snow White


Hansel and Gretel


Rapunzel


They will be gathered in the volume available in both print and eReader versions entitled Sappho's Fables, Volume 1!


~*~

You might be saying--Elora, my favorite fairy tale isn't in the first volume! No despairing! :) Here is a projected list of the upcoming volumes. Though these are subject to change, we're pretty set on all of them. No, unfortunately, I don't have dates on any of these releases! You can either add this blog to your RSS, or add me on Facebook or on Twitter--I promise that when we get closer to actual dates, I will let you know! <3

Sappho's Fables, Volume 2:

Follow the Wolf (Red Riding Hood) -- Elora
Shimmer (Rumpelstiltskin) -- Elora
Thirteen (Twelve Dancing Princesses) -- Jenn

Sappho's Fables, Volume 3:

Heart of Snow (The Snow Queen) -- Jenn
Kiss the Frog (The Frog Prince) -- Elora
Sea Change (The Little Mermaid) -- Elora

Sappho's Fables, Volume 4:

Ember (Cinderella) -- Elora
The Sleeping City (Sleeping Beauty) -- Jenn
The Prince and the Pea (The Princess and the Pea) -- Jenn

Sappho's Fables, Volume 5:

Thorn (Beauty and the Beast) -- Jenn
Kitten Heels (Puss in Boots) -- Elora
Wingless (The Wild Swans) -- Elora

ALSO, after the above volumes are released, we have a very special short story collection entitled Snow White Loves Rose Red--it will be the last volume in the series, and cover some of our very favorite fairy tales--the lesser known ones that are still beautiful. Details on that coming soon! <3

~*~

What can you expect from these stories? These are not your typical fairy tales. Expect some more traditional retellings, but also post-apocalyptic fairy tales, biopunk, steampunk, mythicpunk, paranormal, science fiction...we had two driving goals in these releases: put out oustanding lesbian literature, and also very, very original retellings. We can not WAIT to share them with you. <3

So yes! We are SO EXCITED to be releasing these so soon! Details to follow! <3 <3 <3

So, we've been in Florida for over a week! We just got home yesterday. :) Right before we left, I got horrific food poisoning (about five hours after I finished the Fable Tribe's first update--at least it let me finish it! ;D), so I feel like I have eighty bazmillion things to catch up on/emails to respond to, AND I DO, along with eleven thousand posts of Sparkle! to make. But, until then, have a picture of pink and purple ladies, taken in Florida. <333333333333

I finally got my pink hair. <3333333333 I feel so not-like-myself without it.



At the airport on the way to Florida!! <3333333


(Notes: I left the dye on for MUCH less time than you're supposed to, because I needed to dye it back to blonde yesterday (basically, I was only pink haired for eight days), so when I'm finally ETERNALLY a pink-haired-sparkle-princess, it will be much more vibrant than what you see here. I used N'Rage's Bubblegum Pink, and loved the coloration [I also love that you can get it at Sally's Beauty Supply, which is where we get Jenn's purple], so will probably keep that when I can be eternally pink~ <3)

The beginnings of our marriage license. <3


Jenn hung our marriage license in our bedroom today. I noticed it when I was taking off my earrings when I came home from work. We'd talked about finding the most special place possible for it, proudly displayed in its new frame. It's right next to our gigantic "happily ever after" plaque, and when I saw it, I got teary eyed all over again.

If you're a straight person, reading the above paragraph, you might not understand it. A marriage license is something you've always been allowed to have, something you've never had to think about. That's not your fault. You were born that way. You were allowed marriage and I wasn't, though your love is not better or worse than my love. Not better or worse, just different. But the ramifications of its differentness impacts me deeply and legally. Or, it did. Until a few months ago.

You see, Jenn and I live in New York state. NY began to allow gay marriages on July 24, 2011. I remember that day with such a striking vividness, though I remember the moment that they announced it as legal much, much clearer.

We were having a fairy party (you are not surprised) over the weekend, and many of our guests had already arrived that evening when my best friend--who hadn't yet made it--called me. I couldn't hear her amidst the laughter, so I went into the bedroom, hand clasped over my other ear. "...it passed?" she yelled breathlessly, exuberant. "I don't know if it passed, silly!" I laughed back, "we don't know if it's going to be voted on tonight..." "No!" she shouted. "SARAH. It PASSED."

My world fell away. I stood, silent, limp when she said: "SARAH? DID YOU HEAR ME? IT PASSED."

And then I began to sob. I sobbed, breathless, for five minutes, turning, blind, to collapse into Jenn's arms. I kept crying, everyone gathered worriedly. "It didn't pass?" someone whispered, and only then did I find my voice, only then did months, years of activism, of praying, of frustration, of abuse from angry, homophobic people fall completely away into my personal history as I gulped air, shook my head, and through my tears I said over and over again like someone who's been given the world: "no. It PASSED. Oh god, it passed."

I'd always been so afraid, though I'd tried to hide it. Afraid that Jenn would get sick, that they wouldn't let me see her in the hospital. Afraid something terrible might happen to me, and she be left with nothing (the house is in my name). All of the little things that a married couple never even has to think about I thought about day and night. For Jenn and I were already married, though it wasn't legal. And if she'd gotten ill or something had happened to me, it would have meant nothing to the faceless systems that would keep us apart.

It sounds science fiction-y, doesn't it. Like something out of a movie, that in this day and age, two passionately and madly in love people could be kept from one another in the moments that matter most. My worst nightmares contained faceless hospital staff that stood and barred the door, refusing me admittance to the room where my wife lay, calling for me. It's a grotesque and dramatic image, but it happens every single day in this country. Every single day in every single state that does not have gay marriage or protection for gay couples.

It wasn't just about the legal ramifications, the safety that would be afforded to us once it passed. It was the "less than" status that, every day, we combated. Gay marriage in NY state has not been a miracle pill. In our rural community, it's still sometimes frightening to be an openly gay woman. Countless people still look down at us, hate us, make the everyday, simple task of holding hands a political statement open for commentary by every stranger passing.

But we're legal. We are no longer less than. And that has begun to make all the difference.

The problem, now, is...well, I'm calling it "survivor's guilt." You see, we have a lot of gay friends. Many of them don't live in NY. Some of our dearest loved ones are not allowed the exact same rights that we have because of geography, because of the state they live in. Which seems so odd, so wrong, so ridiculous to me that I have a hard time understanding it. L and J, two beautiful hearts and so in love women, cannot marry because their state doesn't allow it. So, while I am afforded the legal safety and privileges of marriage, they are still in the cold and dark of waiting for their state to see progress, to see empathy and equality. There is nothing different about their love from ours.

The only difference is geography.

I can't stop looking at our marriage license. I have such mixed feelings when I do. Relief. Elation. Love. Joy. Happiness. Gratitude.

And sadness that I'm one of the "lucky" ones. When we should ALL be the "lucky" ones.

Some of our older gay friends have reminded me, gently, that Rome wasn't built in a day. When Jenn and I fell in love, eight years ago, we could never have imagined that we would, today, be legally married. THAT seemed like science fiction, and yet--look. Eight "short" years later, and I wear a beautiful, shining wedding band that symbolizes, as simple metal can try, everlasting love. Who knows what eight years more can do?

I have hope. I have faith.

And though I am now afforded these shiny, new legal rights, I can't stop. No one can stop. And no one is stopping. We are all still trying, still fighting, and we will never stop fighting for equal rights for all. Everywhere. EveryONE.

Regardless of geography.

(cross-posted at Muse Rising)

My dearest ladies and gentlefae, you know that my beloved wife and I have worked tirelessly on transforming an unused space in our home into a veritable grotto of sacred acts of creation involving much LIBERAL USE OF GLUE AND GLITTER (translation: A CRAFT ROOM :D). We have FINALLY finished.

It is:

THE SPARKLE ROOM.

And now, here, we present it to you in all of its purple, glitter, rainbow-y decor and glory for your amusement and enjoyment. BE WARNED: THERE ARE MANY COLORS. ADJUST YOUR EYES BEFORE ENTERING. <3 <3 <3

If you step over the rainbow rug, you will enter: SPARKLE ROOM.


( SPARKLES FOREVER )

It was so important to us to be surrounded by things our loved ones have gifted us with, precious treasures that make us smile and remind us of them. <3 There is so much joy and sparkle and love and happiness in that room--it is the most perfect place in the world to create, and we are so in love with it, happy with it, and grateful for it. <3

We want to go through and make posts like this for all of the rooms in our home. <3 We're so happy with how the bedroom looks, finally, and we're almost done re-ordering the Temple Room (AGAIN, we do this every month, I swear--we love changing it up! :D), so that'll be next~ <3

We didn't go to church yesterday--the first Sunday we've been home and haven't gone since summer. Jenn and I lay curled up in bed, limbs tangled, and talked for hours. We did that Saturday morning, too. One of my favorite things about the weekend are the leisurely snuggles we're able to get, entwining our fingers together, cracking jokes and then getting serious and then dissolving the seriousness with jokes again. The warmth of her next to me, the softness of the blankets, the sunshine streaming through the lace curtains: heaven on earth. Precious beyond reason...

Perfect.

~*~

My mom asked me this morning: how are you coping with Shiva being gone? And I told her the truth: I'm writing constantly. It's all I do, words, words, words--it's the most potent form of relief and catharsis I've ever known, and the way I've dealt with everything in my life. When I dive into the story, there's such a sweet sense of peace in the words coming right and the story weaving as I hoped it would, and even when it doesn't, to "pull out all the stitches," so to speak, and make it what I hoped it would be again.

Nova, Jenn's parents' beloved dog, passed away over the weekend. When Jenn told me, I just sort of sat there in shock for a good long moment, then we sat and held one another, crying. Jenn's parents--both of them some of the best people I've ever known--loved that dog more than can be articulated. She was so old, so sick--they'd found her wandering on the side of the road a few months ago, emaciated (even when we volunteered at the shelter, I've never seen an animal that bad) and hardly able to walk, and did everything they could to find her original owners (who were probably assholes if her condition was any indication, which it is), and took her to the vet countless times, and--basically--Nova found the best possible home in the entire cosmos to end her life in.

We've often joked that Jenn's parents' house has a gigantic neon sign pointing to it that every stray who needs it can see. <3

~*~

My next novel, Ragged: A Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tale is coming out January 24th--two weeks and one day. I've got to get everything set up, set up a blog tour, start to ask reviewers if they'd like a copy, do eleventy billion other things to get the knowledge of the book out there, but I'm sad and tired and feeling quiet. This isn't a bad thing--every individual needs time to grieve--but it's not a great idea when you're trying to launch the follow up to your first novel. A lot of people are looking forward to the novel, which is going to help it, I know, and this quietness will pass next week, I'm sure. I hope. Eh...

Side note: I posted two excerpts from the novel over the weekend in my Tumblr--Talula's first kiss, and then the follow up "gay" scene, which is one of my favorites in the novel. If ye be readin' them, please enjoy. <3

~*~

I spent a lot of time hugging the animals this weekend. This happens every day, but instead of singing them ridiculous songs (and then hugging them) and dancing with them (and then hugging them) and playing games with them (and then hugging them), I just...hugged them. They were, of course, very weirded out by this. "BUT, MOM, WHY YOU BE SO SERIOUS?"

~*~

We spent a lot of time putting together the Sparkle Room. If you've ever visited our house, you know how craft supplies take up every available square inch of space. There were blank Glamourkin tiles in the freezer, I'm sure. We've been wanting to make a dedicated space for crafting now, which is CRAZY since we craft everywhere in our house, but we also wanted the ability to make very dangerous things and not have the animals around.

We haven't unveiled our new Etsy shop yet, but we will soon. One of the more interesting/exciting things about it is exactly what I'm deconstructing and then constructing again, and how. It involves a hacksaw. I MAY have almost sliced off my thumb in one of my more stupid daring moves. Jenn gets very nervous when I'm hacksawing.

So, yeah. A separate room is a GOOD IDEA. :D

We had ideas for the Sparkle Room for ages, and we've been gathering them together. We wanted it to be the brightest, most inspiring space we could create, and we used a lot of things from our wedding--not only are they no longer sitting in boxes, but we get to see them everyday and get all smushy and happy, just looking at them and the memories involved. :) <3 So now there's the Temple Room for writing and spiritual endeavors and the Sparkle Room for all things crafty. When we get things a little more organized, we will take eleventy billion pictures, because WE REALLY LOVE IT, and are ridiculously happy with how it came out. :)

Jenn and I just keep wandering into it, standing in the center, and even though it's still messy, we look about with a nerdily euphoric look on our faces and say THIS IS THE HAPPIEST PLACE IN THE WORLD.

This is also helping the general sadness of the household with its BRIGHT COLORS and rampant MY LITTLE PONIES and STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKES.

~*~

From New Year's Day, on the lake shore~ <3

This continues to be the AWESOMEST DAY OF EVER. We were featured in Offbeat Bride--AGAIN! :D

This is the week of potluck suppers. On Monday night, it was our first Unitarian Universalist potluck, tonight it's the monthly Gay Potluck (capitalized!).

Gathering around the table, rubbing elbows and passing dishes with people who make you laugh and feel completely safe and important and needed...I really can't think of anything better in the world. Your opinion is valued, the conversations are witty and passionate and filled with compassion, and--at the end of the day, driving home with your wife's hand clasped gently in your own--you're filled with such a deep sense of belonging, that you can feel the heartbeat of the universe in your bones.

It doesn't matter what was served--though you can tell the depth of their care by their asking what sort of food we vegetarians prefer, and making certain there's plenty of exactly what you mentioned there. It doesn't matter if you show up late or early. There will be people there, warm lights shining in a cobblestone house or out of stained glass windows in an ancient church that sits, comfortable and cozy and waiting to welcome you.

I don't know how we lived without this church, or the people in it in our lives. B makes our days bright--I love him so much it makes my heart hurt, sometimes. He's the epitome of goodness and kindness, the absolute consummate fairy godfather. I wish I could frame these little moments in my heart and keep them forever--I hope I can. He cares about us so much, and just knowing that he and his love exists makes the world beautiful.

L, the pastor's wife, is my saint. She's so passionate, she sets the world on fire--she's so radical and strong and courageous that--single handedly--she could make the planet turn back on its axis if she wanted. I have never seen a woman so dedicated to ideals and so adverse to just sitting there and waxing philosophic about them. She changes shit. I've told her, over and over again, what an inspiration she is to me as a gay rights activist and lesbian author, and she always turns it around and says that I'm inspiring, and then I'm like YOU ARE CHANGING THE WORLD, CRAZY LADY, I AM JUST WRITING BOOKS, and we always end the conversations with hugs and me in tears and this overflowing feeling of disbelief in my heart that I ever existed without knowing her. She challenges me, every single day, to be a stronger person, to do and be and create more, to change the world every second, not just occasionally. I am so endlessly inspired by her presence in my life.

Tonight, we're going to the Gay Potluck, and I've looked forward to it so incredibly much since the last one. There, we are surrounded by people who have been through...everything. And still manage to have such incredible dignity, such grace and compassion. I don't understand how they do it, sometimes, and I am continuously challenged by them to be even better. If they've been through so much, and still maintain their lives with beauty and compassion, surely I can try to do the same. Again, they care about Jenn and I so much, and I am just so vastly humbled and grateful for that. We'll pass around plates of decadence (and Jenn's cupcakes that Bill asked, so excitedly, for her to make <3), and we'll talk about the state of the world and each other's gardens and hearts, and speak of politics and books and gay kids and recipes, and at the end of the night, we'll leave the little cobblestone house filled with the satisfaction that there is a place for us in the world. There will be so much love in our hearts, they'll feel full to bursting, and we'll begin the looking-forward-to-ness again for next month, and another dinner with our gay family.

Because that's what these circles are--families. Created families. The warmth and compassion and kindness and love that fills those walls and words and gestures sustain us in the times when we're apart, knowing that there is a place for us--that we belong without any doubt.

Being an openly lesbian woman is not easy. Some days, it's fine. Some days, it's a fucking nightmare. No matter what, surrounded by our church or gay families, I can hold Jenn's hand, drape my arm about her shoulder, talk with hardly concealed glee and love about how much I adore her, and it's met with love and cheer and joy and an "of course." I don't have to explain it or fight for it there and I am treated no differently for it. Which...I can't even explain how that feels, to be treated not differently. Gods.

It's...sublime. Perfect.

I have three created families. You here...you're one of them. And I miss you terribly. I get to see you perhaps a few times a year, and the times in between are sad and despondent for me, because of how much I miss you.

But now, in the in between times, my feelings of belonging, of love, don't need to wilt away to nothingness. They are nurtured by the two new families that we began in June, here.

I am so grateful, so humbled, so deeply content that I have this--a spiritual family, a gay family, to share my days with, to feel when all the world is against me that there is some small, blessed portion that is not.

When the dark comes sooner, when the days grow colder, when the world turns to winter...my heart is filled and warm.

Late last night, as I was finishing up the last of the Glamourkin necklaces for the update, Jenn seated companionably beside me, our feet touching under the table (warm and soft and comfort-filled), I stopped. There were beads in my hand, wire curled about my fingers, and I just...stopped.

A memory hit me hard, and I looked to Jenn, eyes wide: "Sweetheart, what day is it?"

"October twelfth," she replied, lifting her glue covered brush, eyes twinkling. "Why?"

"October twelfth," I repeated, a grin slowly spreading across my face. "Eight years ago...right now..." I glanced at the clock. "This very moment, actually--I was writing a letter."

"The letter," she said, eyes wide, and we both paused and considered that for a long moment. I took her hand, fingers curling over her skin, the skin I know so well, the bones I've memorized, the lines and fingerprints my favorite curves in the world as we interlaced our digits. Eight years ago, in that moment, I could only have dreamed of what I eventually found. For, eight years ago, I was writing a love letter that poured my heart out to Jenn, telling her the truth: how much I loved her, that--in fact--I loved her...not even knowing if she was gay.

Sometimes, I think about everything it took to get here, and I close my eyes and whisper to the Goddess, over and over and over again: thank You, thank You, thank You. If one thing had gone amiss, if one ounce of courage had been misplaced, I never would have found my way here, married to my soul mate, the love of my life, my absolute and shining other half.

Eight years ago, I could only (and did, every second of every day) dream of a love like this. A love that grows, every single day, the soft place to land, the completion of my soul, my wishes, my dreams. She is my world, my stars, my heavenly body, and I am in thrall of her gravity.

I have been married almost two weeks. I have been smitten, in love, in joy for almost eight years.

My very being is a deep gratitude that is beyond definition.


(photo by the incomparable Laura Vasilion~)