To live in a world meant for other people

To live in a world meant for other people     Here a bartender carves a block of ice into a near-perfect sphere with a sharp knife and his bare hand.  A geisha steps onto the elevator in the hotel, her hair brushed back with painstaking accuracy.  In the restaurant, food is prepared with care and served with even more care.  Ugly buildings and tangled wires overhead share space with small gardens and handmade signs and window displays and rows of idle bicycles.  Neon skeletons hang by day and become breathing beauties at nightfall.  Preschoolers line up like ducks in yellow uniforms on a train platform.  I hear one visitor refer to these children as the reason why “they are so militaristic.”  My introduction to Japan is a list of quips like this one from other westerners.  I hear them from strangers on the subway.  I hear them from my co-worker who has lived here for several years.  I hear them from the occasio...

It is hard for me to talk about my writing in an objective way. I suppose that's true for most writers. So I look to outside comments to get a sense of how my writing comes across to my readers. My books are recently published, but one common thread emerging from the comments I have received so far is that books about gay characters in situations that have to do with being gay apparently strike a chord with my non-gay readers. The experience of living in a world meant for other people transcends the borders society has drawn. I would like to thank my readers for sharing their thoughtful and encouraging comments, and I would like to share them with you here: "As a parent, it makes you consider the brave journey of our rainbow children/young adults. To help understand their inner struggle to normalize their feelings against a backdrop of the potential for unrealistic parental expectation." "Your book had great meaning to me. My stepson is gay and h...