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saxon bennett

It was Emma’s birthday and we were going to Big Splash Water Park, out to dinner, and cake with her grandparents. It was a big, big day. And we were packing. Em had to pack for the water park and dinner and then for pirate bonding on the river for the weekend and then for camp. She had lists for each bag and what needed to go in it. I think she may have gotten that from me and perhaps the importance of always having first aid kit. But I was keeping my mouth shut on those two accounts. It could just have been a coincidence.

I only had to pack for Big Splash and dinner and I was stressed. I had to pack my swimming suit and accoutrements and clothes for the restaurant afterwards. I stood arms akimbo in the living room, deep in thought. I looked over at…

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We Fight On ALL Fronts



This past week, so-called President Trump, who’s been in seclusion since coming back from the G-20 meeting (probably more appropriately called the G-19 now), mainlining Fox & Friends and venting his spleen on Twitter, gave his first non-Fox News interview since his disastrous NBC interview with Lester Holt (in which he admitted on camera to intentionally obstructing justice in the firing of former FBI director James Comey) with Christian Broadcasting Network’s resident loon, Pat Robertson.

Yes, the same Pat Robertson who blamed the Pulse mass shooting, Hurricane Katrina, and September 11 on “teh gay.” The same Pat Robertson who claims feminism “encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.” The same Pat Robertson who blamed Israeli PM Ariel Sharon’s stroke on the UN. The same Pat Robertson who advised nuking the State Department (yes, using a nuclear weapon on ourselves in our…

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I’m looking forward to reading two books in the next few weeks, starting with Theodora Goss’s The Strange Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter.  The plot is delicious.  As NPR explains:

Mary Jekyll has never been more alone. Her father, Dr. Henry Jekyll, died 14 years ago, and her mother Ernestine has just passed away after going mad. Living in London in the 1890s, she’s subject to the era’s discrimination against women, which she confronts while trying to get her family’s affairs in order. She soon realizes she’s destitute — but her mother has left her clues to a bank account that lead to a girl named Diana Hyde.

Mary remembers Diana’s father from her childhood; Edward Hyde, crude and misshapen, was a friend of Dr. Jekyll’s. As a mystery coalesces around them — one that transcends their curious overlapping pasts — three other women enter their orbit, each of…

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saxon bennett

I went to Washington State to see family and friends. It was fun but I missed Layce and Em. That was the only downside. I worried that when I left them that they might discover I was extraneous to the household. When I came out with my luggage and Layce kissed me, I knew I was missed. I did not yet know I was seriously needed.

As we drove away from the airport, I noticed a glass of iced coffee sitting belligerently in the cup holder in the console. “What is this?” I said pointing at the glass. A glass! I couldn’t believe it.

A glass.”


“We have cups with lids, they’re called travel cups because that’s what you use when you’re traveling with liquids so they don’t spill and you don’t accidentally drop a glass of which is one of a set of six—an important number to me because…

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saxon bennett

Em is taking Driver’s Ed and doing well. After the first lesson, Em regaled us with student driver’s snafus. I gulped and winced a few times, but stayed relatively calm and did not quote safety statistics.

“I was so afraid he would make me parallel park. I mean I just started driving. I can’t be expected to be perfect. It’s only my first day,” Em said.

“Why’d you think he’d make you do that?” Layce asked.

“Because I was driving and had to stop and wait for a lady who was parallel parking and having a hard time. The instructor said women can’t parallel park for some reason. I was kind of insulted. I mean, you guys can parallel park.” She caught the look that passed between Layce and me. “Right?”

“I can,” Layce said.

“She’s really good at it,” I added.

“Are you good at it too?” Em asked.

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With LGBT Pride events happening all over the country this month (other, of course, than in the White House, where so-called President Trump couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge Pride month), a group called No Justice No Pride has been staging some protests, parade blockades, and alternative events.

NJNP contends that Pride events have gotten away from their radical protest roots (remember, Pride originated to commemorate the Stonewall uprising, when drag queens, butch lesbians, and other LGBT patrons of Greenwich Village’s Stonewall Inn fought back against police harassment driven by NYC’s anti-gay laws) and have devolved into corporatized, shallow parties that cater primarily to well-off, white, cisgender gay men. And they have a point.

This column isn’t specifically about arguing the merits of either side, though. I wanted to use a timely example to illustrate some key points about learning how to work together for change.

The Resistance has many…

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Kathy Pollitt has written an important article that drives home some of the points about which I’ve been posting since the election.  It’s not long and you really owe it to yourself to read the whole thing.

Ms. Pollitt notes the by-now-cliched articles we keep reading about white working-class Trump supporters.  (She makes the important point that most of Trump’s supporters   weren’t out-of-work coal miners or auto factory workers.  They were people making $70,000/year who were racist, sexist, and xenophobic.)  She then takes on the familiar trope that it’s those mean Democrats being mean  that literally forces these poor, decent, racists to vote for the racist candidate:

Just within the last few weeks, the New Republic had Michael Tomasky deploring “elite liberal suspicion of middle America” for such red-state practices as churchgoing and gun owning and The New York Times had Joan Williams accusingDemocrats of impugning the…

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Highland Redoubt


These are difficult times.  I don’t know about you, but I find it so difficult to move between the world as I believe it should be and the world as it currently is.

More and more, I find myself longing for the Virginia highlands, the places where you can see the shadows of the clouds move across the mountains.  I want to sit on ancient stone, feel my butt cheeks, the soles of my feet, and my yoni drink in the mineral energy of my mother, Gaia.

It’s OK to take a breath.  It’s OK to retreat.  It’s OK to need solace.

Find it wherever you can.  This is a marathon, not a sprint.

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Why Lesfic?

layce gardner

The single most asked question I get as a writer is “Why don’t you write mainstream fiction?” In other words, why don’t I write about straight people?  Let me begin by saying that most of the askers have good intentions. They are under the impression that mainstream fiction is somehow better than lesbian fiction. They think I would make more money, or that I would gain more recognition writing mainstream. Both of those assumptions are false.


The reason I write lesfic is because I am a lesbian. It has been said, “Write what you know.” It makes me wonder if a black person is ever asked “Why don’t you write about white people?” Did James Baldwin or Toni Morrison ever get asked that?

Was Amy Tan ever thought of as lesser because she wrote about her culture?

I am a lesbian. I write about lesbian lives, romances, dramas, and comedies…

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My Jijuu

What a wonderful telling.


Today is just one day shy of my Jijuu (grandmother) Mary Effie’s birthday. Tomorrow, she will be turning 78 years old. I would just like to share a little bit about my Jijuu because this beautiful woman deserves to shine bright, not only on her birthday, but every damn day of the year.


My Jijuu is the most respectful and humble woman I know. She carries herself with dignity, grace, and resilience. She’s a hunter, a fisher, a sewer, a teacher, a mother, a Jijuu, and my best friend. She is a strong believer in God, she likes to smoke cigarettes. and she’s crazy as hell. Although my Jijuu is an elder, she’s a little bit of a daredevil. I have some crazy stories of her and I travelling on white caps to get back to our family at fish camp, or crossing the melting ice road too…

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