The Influence of Sappho on Loving Artemis — #Sappho #LesFic #amreading

I am delighted to bring you this excerpt from my novel Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love and marriage (published in 2022 by Thorned Heart Press) that was recently published in the anthology Favorite Scenes From Favorite Authors, from I Heart Sapphic Books. I am particularly enthusiastic about this excerpt because it was inspired by the Lesbian poet Sappho. The excerpt is called “The trees blushing”

“Blurb:

      Artemis found the love of her life when she met Linda, but their passionate relationship fizzles when Artemis lands herself on the other side of the law. Pulling the pieces of her life together, Artemis rekindles her relationship with Linda, and together they raise a daughter.

      Meanwhile, Grace, running from her past, starts a life with Thalia. At a pride parade, Grace spots someone who reminds her of Artemis, who she was briefly involved with in her youth. Old feelings are rekindled. A lifetime of rejection, abandonment, and fleeing rears its head. Now she must come to terms with her past, put her relationship with Artemis to rest–or risk losing everything.

      Artemis and Grace embark on a journey of revolution, love, and marriage and discover that love finds us when we least expect it.

      Tell us about this scene:

      Art (Artemis) and the love of her life Linda take a motorcycle ride to the nearby quarry where they make love for the first time.

      Why did you choose this scene as your favorite?

      This scene is heavily influenced by my reading of the ancient Greek poet Sappho (who lived on the Island of Lesvos).

        * * *

      Excerpt:

     

(from chapter ten)

They got back on the bike. Art turned the key in the ignition and pulled forward slowly. This was where Art had come with her old girlfriend Allison. They had been on foot then, that first time when they hid behind the trees and called out to each other with lines from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Art remembered the light shining through the trees, the way it did now as it danced on the ground around them. It was summer then. Now, red, orange, and brown leaves covered the path. Art felt the bump of tree roots under the tires. She brought the bike to a halt. She sat there for a minute, feeling the warmth of Linda behind her: the inside of Linda’s thighs cupping her ass; Linda’s arms hugging her waist. Art had been thinking that it didn’t get better than this. But now she knew it did — and it would. The difference between the time that she first came here with Allison and now, coming here with Linda, was that Art had been here before. She knew what she was doing. But she wanted it to be Linda’s idea. Linda got off the bike first. She walked to a log next to the path and sat down.

“I can see the lake from here,” said Linda. The back of her head was toward Art. Her windswept hair fell over her jacket collar.

“Come on over.” Art swung her leg over the bike. She put down the kickstand and stood there for a moment, holding the handlebars until she made sure that the bike was on steady ground. Then she walked the bike to the side of the path — beyond the log where Linda was sitting.

A narrow trail shot off from the path. It looked familiar. Art walked over to the log. “You can see the lake from here,” Art said. “I never realized that before.”

Linda scooted closer to Art. “You know the first time I walked into school with you, the girl sitting next to me in homeroom asked, ‘Who’s that cute guy with the motorcycle?'”

Art looked at her.

“Art is a guy’s name,” Linda explained.

 “It’s short for Artemis,” answered Art. “My mother’s Greek. Artemis is a goddess from Greek mythology.”

“Yeah, the goddess of the hunt. She was always my favorite,” replied Linda, looking at Art perceptively. “I think it’s cool that you’re Greek.”

Art looked into Linda’s green eyes. The woods were shady. Afternoon light filtered through red and orange leaves. Linda’s eyes blazed into Art’s.

“You would make a cute guy,” Linda continued.

Art was drawn into the green vortex of Linda’s eyes. Art’s arms and legs trembled and tiny flames scorched her skin. She opened her mouth slightly to say something, but speech eluded her. Linda leaned in and kissed her. Art kissed her back. Linda’s lips felt as soft as moist rose petals and she smelled like musk oil. Art didn’t know if Linda wore perfume or if the scent came from her own body. A breeze rustled the leaves. Art’s heart trembled. This wasn’t the first time she kissed a girl, but this kiss felt different. A universe opened between them. Their tongues found new language. Soon, Art drew back. Linda looked radiant, as if the moon and stars were glowing inside of her. Still speechless, Art remembered that there was something she wanted to say.

Words formed on her lips: “But I’m not a boy. I’m a girl.”

“A smart girl,” whispered Linda. “I like that.”

This time, Art leaned in and kissed Linda. Their hands were everywhere. They came up for air, stood, and stumbled ahead on the path. They turned down a narrow path and found a large mossy patch that looked inviting. Art thought she had been here before with Allison, but she wasn’t sure if this was the exact place. Now, here with Linda, it was new. They were standing, kneeling, lying on the ground, rolling, touching. It was too cool a day to take off their clothes, but, as it turned out, it didn’t matter. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Art rolled on top of Linda. Excitement sparked in her groin and danced throughout her body. Her fingers tingled. Her tongue entwined with Linda’s. When they were done kissing, Art drew back and looked at Linda. Her hair was the deep red of autumn apples. Her skin was radiant. Shifting her weight, Art thrust her thigh against Linda’s crotch.

Linda groaned. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since I got on your bike with you,” she whispered.

Art had wanted to do this ever since she set eyes on Linda. She wanted the bike more than anything, but she wanted Linda just as much. Maybe Linda was the reason she bought the bike. Yiayia (her Greek grandmother)would have understood. The wind blew harder and the leaves rustled. A distant roaring filled Art’s ears. Linda moaned and writhed under Art, as Art rubbed her crotch in a circular motion on Linda’s thigh. Cries overflowed from her throat. A humming filled her ears. The moss felt like moist velvet under her fingertips. It was chilly, but Art was filled with warmth. She rolled to the side.

As she lay there, her arms circling Linda, she imagined that the red and orange leaves looking down at them were the trees blushing.

Here is the link to the free anthology on BookFunnel:

https://dl.bookfunnel.com/ck3pqiiavx

For more information on my most recent novel Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love, and marriage, click here:

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Loving Artemis featured on Sapphic Book Club: #amreading #lgbt #MarriageEquality #allies

It is my great pleasure to bring you my featured blog post from the Sapphic Book Club which has featured me as a writer. In this guest blog post, I talk about my experience of writing Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love and marriage published in August 2022 by Thorned Heart Press.

Author Spotlight: Janet Mason

Today’s spotlight shines on Janet Mason, the author of Loving Artemis. Read on to learn about how Mason’s “lesbianized” personal experiences became the basis for this story!

Loving Artemis

In telling a friend about the creation of my book Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love and marriage published by Thorned Heart Press, I mentioned that I “’lesbianized’” my youth meaning that the characters were a lot more empowered. In doing so, I created a happy ending – or two. Three if you count the march of history.

I told this same friend that I might have given my characters happier endings than the ones they actually came to. This is true. I was in my last year of high school in 1977, when the rights we might have in the future were just hinted at on static ridden television screens. My main characters, Artemis and Grace, were also in their senior year of high school in 1977. Like Artemis and Grace, I grew up in a tract house working class landscape.

Like many fiction writers, I drew on the details of reality. In particular, the details of the tract house landscape where the novel is set are almost identical if not exactly the way I remember it. As the lesbian writer Willa Cather once said, “There are all those early memories. You cannot get another set.”

I grew up with girls like Artemis who were outlaws, got caught, and went to jail. I knew girls who grew up too fast and lived in trailer parks and had children with men who may or may not have stuck around. I don’t know that the women, like my character Artemis and the love of her life, Linda, ever got together and discovered that they could have lives together.

When I was coming of age, history was changing. When I was a child, the Vietnam War raged on the television nightly. The Civil Rights movements inspired the foment that led to the Women’s Liberation Movement. This led to early Gay Liberation and even though it was mostly cis-gendered white men at the beginning, it led to the LGBTQ movement. All of this leads to the events that ushered in marriage equality becoming the law of the land in the U.S. in 2015. And marriage equality is now under threat.

When Artemis heard about the outspoken anti-gay former beauty queen Anita Bryant and the national gay activist Harvey Milk on the news, it gave her hope that there were others like her out there—somewhere. It gave her hope for the future–which she needed because she was headed for hard times.

I am more like Grace, the other main character in Loving Artemis. Grace enters the picture a few months before Artemis goes to reform school and then prison. Like Grace, I fled from my working-class origins with the help of a college education.

The novel is framed with the women in mid-life attending the Pride rally in New York City and Grace seeing a woman in the Dykes on Bikes contingent who she thinks she was briefly lovers with in high school. Artemis rode a motorcycle in high school also.

I did a fair amount of research on motorcycles for the writing of Loving Artemis. I also did a fair amount of research on the saints (quite a few of them were lesbians or differently gendered) on Catholic.com. I enjoyed the writing of the novel and I had quite a good time in the chapter where Grace goes to a party, takes her first (and only) acid trip, meets Artemis (who she recognizes from school) and imagines that Artemis is Saint Anne, who is a bit butch.

I said that I “lesbianized” my youth because my experience of growing up in a tract-house working-class landscape was quite different. I didn’t feel that empowered, to say the least. I’ve often said that I was lucky to have gotten out of that place alive. After Loving Artemis was accepted for publication and had found a home with Thorned Heart Press, and it was time for me to go through the editing process, I dreaded it. I thought of it as having to “go back there.” What I found, in actuality, was that the editing from the publisher was light and at the same time, there were a few key points that took me and the writing to a deeper level. So, the editing process was a good one. When I finished, I had the thought that I must have been more empowered than I remembered.

Ultimately in writing Loving Artemis, the characters showed me their courage and now I am handing that courage to you.

Janet Mason is an award-winning creative writer, teacher, and occasional blogger for such places as The Huffington Post. Her book, Tea Leaves, a memoir of mothers and daughters, published by Bella Books in 2012, was chosen by the American Library Association for its 2013 Over the Rainbow List. Tea Leaves also received a Goldie Award. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and her novel THEY, a biblical tale of secret genders (Adelaide Books – New York and Lisbon) was featured at the 2018 Frankfurt Book Fair. Adelaide Books also published her novel The Unicorn, The Mystery late in 2020. She lives and writes in Philadelphia. Her novel Loving Artemis, an endearing tale of revolution, love and marriage was published by Thorned Heart Press in August, 2022.

To read the post on the Sapphic Book club, click here

For information on my most recently published novel Loving Artemis click here

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Tamar and Judith in Sinister Wisdom (THEY excerpted) — #amreading #lesfic

I am posting  a segment of my novel THEY, a biblical tale of secret genders (just published by Adelaide Books — New York / Lisbon) and available on Amazon

A variation of this excerpt was published in the fortieth anniversary  issue of Sinister Wisdom.

The next evening, Tamar’s tent flap opened, revealing a triangle of soft light.

“Hello there,” said Tamar.

“Hello,” said a low voice.  

Tamar was expecting Judith and the voice did sound like hers — except that it was low and hesitant.  Shy? Judith entered the tent. She pushed back the hood of her dark robe. Shiny dark hair spilled out.   Tamar had set the table with her best pottery.  Juicy red pomegranate seeds glistened in a small round bowl.  In another, black orbs of oil cured olives shimmered.  Chunks of white goat cheese sat on a small terracotta plate next to a bowl of fresh figs. Next to that was a small bowl of almonds.  Purple spikes of hyssop extended from a clay vase. Tamar had put Aziz outside for the evening, and she had swept the tent with brooms of hyssop. She had bathed earlier that day. Then she had oiled her skin. She even oiled the inside of her mouth. After she had spit out the mouthful of olive  oil, she  could  feel  her  tongue  slippery against her teeth. Shortly before Judith came, Tamar had lit the oil lamp but set it back further in the tent — instead of on the table — so the light was dimmed.  A goatskin of wine peeked out from behind the vase. Judith’s eyes flickered toward the table.  Her gaze returned to Tamar.

“How beautiful,” she said.

Judith had been coming to her several times a week for two moons now — since they started meditating together.  She never wore her silver necklaces. Even tonight when they were meeting for pleasure, she didn’t have them on.  She rarely mentioned her husband and sons.  Tamar had told her that even to complain about them was to give them power. Judith hadn’t conceived yet, but she was ready. She had been coming to Tamar’s tent several times a week.  She had told Tamar that every morning she set aside time to sit quietly and watch her breath.  Judith said the old voices were leaving her — making room for the new. Tamar had conquered the old Judith with love. She had assisted at the birth of the new Judith. This Judith was even more beautiful. Her long dark hair glistened like it was surrounded by shooting stars.  Her sea green eyes looked like an oasis in the parched desert.  They were deeper and darker than ever. Judith’s eyes were shaped like almonds. They were wide in the middle and narrow on the ends. They slanted up slightly at the outside edges.  Lines of smudged kohl rimmed Judith’s eyes. The low light reflected from the single strand of gold around her neck. For a flickering moment, she looked like an Egyptian princess from ancient times, a dark eyed seductress painted onto a frieze. 

….

Judith suggested that they have a toast. “The goblets are beautiful,” said Tamar. “And the wine is here to be drunk.” Then she filled their goblets. They held them aloft and clinked them against each other. “To us.” “To us.” It didn’t matter which one spoke. The feeling was the same.  Their eyes met over the rims of the wedding goblets.   They put the goblets down. They sat on the floor next to the low table on the double camel hair blankets that Tamar had folded. “Let me feed you,” said Judith. She picked up an olive, held it between her fingers.  Then she broke off a piece of the oiled bread. She reached out and fed it to Tamar.

Tamar felt Judith’s cool fingers on her lips. When she was done, Tamar fed Judith.   They saved the fresh figs for last.

“For my sweetness,” said Tamar.  She felt Judith’s warm lips on her fingers.

Then Judith put some pomegranate seeds in Tamar’s mouth. Tamar began sucking on Judith’s fingers. She was emboldened by the wine.  They had been taking sips from their goblets and refilling them. They were on their second goatskin. Judith pushed the bowl of figs away.

“I’ve had enough food,” she said.  She leaned in toward Tamar.  “But I could never have enough of you.”

Their lips met and it was good. This was the first time that Tamar had kissed someone — with the exception of the kisses that she sometimes gave to Aziz on his furry forehead or the kisses that she had given to Pharez and Zerah when they were small. This kiss was born from passion and tenderness. Er had been incapable of both.  Tamar was consumed by moisture. They were both made of water and light — like wild hyssop plants flowering in the arid desert.  A brilliant sash of longing encircled them. Tamar’s lips parted. Judith’s tongue slipped in. Tamar’s nipples tingled.  Her vulva opened.

 “I’ve never felt this way,” Judith whispered.

She opened her robe.  In the dim light, her nakedness gleamed. Tamar’s breath caught in her throat. She dropped her own robe and took Judith’s hand, leading her to the softness of the bed that she had made for them. 

She and Judith put their arms around each other. Tamar felt the silken smoothness that their bodies made together. She was not ashamed of her nakedness.

 

You can also read an excerpt of THEY, written as standalone short fiction, in the online literary journal BlazeVOX15

Another excerpt is in the recent issue of Sinister Wisdom — the fortieth anniversary issue

A different excerpt is also in the aaduna literary magazine  (this excerpt was nominated for a Pushcart Prize)

View YouTube videos of readings and performances of THEY by clicking here.

Text excerpts from THEY and my introductions presented at UUCR (Unitarian Universalist Church of the Restoration) can be clicked on below.

To read the text to the “Descent of Ishtar” and the introduction (where I talk about ancient Babylon), click here.

To read the text to “Forty Days And Forty Nights” as well as my introduction, click here.

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