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Sympathy for the Dilettante
At last…..
It’s here.
At last…..
The reveal which has had many on the edges of your seats.
But first….
Faithful readers, you deserve a warning. This surprise? No anti-climax here. The Sisterwives are honoured to provide a safe space for Helena to step out and be seen for THE FIRST TIME. Hold your breath, your shock, your applause…to the very end. Let the writer speak.
At last….
I don’t think I get blogging.
I feel like the shy kid in the back corner of the class, writing strange poetry while the others fawn over the latest issue of Teen Beat magazine.
I don’t fit in. I’m not comfortable in my own skin sometimes, and I tend to spend too much time in my own head. I see others laughing, and wish to join in — do you want a confession? I envy them, because they seem to understand happiness, where I can’t. I’m always noticing the slime and the muck of life, and it doesn’t help that I’m clinically depressed and sometimes focus overlong on things I ought to let go of.
I know what you want to hear, but have, up until now, been unwilling to give it. I’ve tried to meet you halfway, by giving you a glimpse into my life, and then I tell you that it’s partially fabricated, so as to distance myself, and I get the feeling that it’s easy to forget that there’s a human being behind that paper smile. I made up Helena so that I could mix the truth with lies. That’s what an artist does, after all. I am a writer of fictions great and small.
You’ve never seen anything like me. Nobody does it like I do. I don’t fit. You don’t know what to do with me. I get it.
What do you want to know? Has my mysterious demeanour turned you off? Do you find me inaccessible? I’m here to answer your questions, including the ultimate one: Who is Helena Hann-Basquiat?
Why wear the paper mask at all?
I’m fiercely protective of my privacy, and I’m honestly a bit whigged out by the manufactured intimacy of the internet. On the one hand, it’s a great place for people to share — whether ideas, stories, etc… — but it’s artificial, isn’t it? I mean, how many Catfish stories do we have to hear before we begin to realize that very few people, if any, are exactly what they say they are on the internet? We all put our best foot forward, and we trust that the people we’re talking to bear us no ill will.
A lot of blogging is about being genuine, and that way the reader can build a relationship of sorts with the writer – doesn’t that matter to you?
I don’t want to be the brave one. I don’t want you to love me or feel sorry for me, I want to tell you a story — and ironically, I think I’m more honest about the fact that I’m telling you a story than most. There is a thin line between blogging and writing/storytelling — and I’d say that most of the really engaging bloggers are actually storytellers — I think of Beth or Mandi, and I think that if you asked them to define what it is they do, you might be surprised. But the truth is, as soon as you take something out of a simple recitation of the facts and put it into a narrative, you have changed it into a story — a story based in part or in whole on the truth, but life is no narrative. You leave out insignificant details, or change the timing of things, or forget details, and what you end up with is an edited version of reality, and that’s a writer’s job. A writer telling a story has to choose the perspective they’re going to tell it in, has to make decisions about how much power that narrator is going to have — will that narrator be able to ascribe thoughts or feelings or motivations to others? Does the narrator know the whole story, or are we all along for the ride together? The fact that I write in diversions, or break the fourth wall to address my audience, or explore different narrative techniques does in no way detract from the authenticity of my stories. I’m doing the same thing as other writers, only turned up full volume. The great thing about being Helena is that I can tell deeply personal stories — sometimes painful stories — without bleeding all over the page. Truthfully, if you think of some of the most painful things that have happened to you, you could likely sum them up in a couple sentences. But a) that doesn’t tell the whole story — it doesn’t account for the inner turmoil you felt, it doesn’t allow for inner monologue or commentary on the whole situation and b) it makes for a lousy fucking read.
So, to answer your question — does it matter to me that my readers be able to build a relationship with me; that I be perceived as genuine?
I’d be lying if I said that I don’t care whether people like me or not — but first and foremost, I want people to enjoy and interact with the writing — that’s the only me they’re ever really going to get, after all. Very few people get to be real friends with me — I’m really not that good a friend!
But on the flipside, the question of entitlement and responsibility keeps surfacing in my mind — how much does a writer owe their readers? Do I owe you the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? When you read my stories, do you love the stories, or do you love me? I get a kick out of making people laugh, making people cry, taking people to strange, surreal places. I delight in entertaining people — I always have. I used to put on plays for my parents and their friends as a child. I’ve been writing stories since I could put pen to paper, and my fondest memories take place on a stage, whether acting in a school play or singing with a band. But how much of ME are you entitled to? The answer: As much as I’m willing to give you, and nothing more.
What’s your favourite pizza topping?
Finely seared human flesh would probably be Jessica’s answer, right? Okay, one of the best pizzas I ever had was an Alfredo base, with grilled chicken, roasted garlic and artichoke hearts. Not something I could eat every day, but it was delicious and I’ll always remember it.
How come you’re complaining when you’re the one hiding behind fiction?
Complaining about what? Complaining that I feel detached? Sigh. I don’t know if what I’m doing is complaining but rather trying to take the temperature of my supposed audience. Because those few that love me, seem to really love me, and they rave about the writing. The writing is the thing, you see, but the writing doesn’t just magically appear — I have to write it. I’m just reminding people that there is an “I” here. An “I” that wants to connect with you through my writing. And so I have been worrying that be being anonymous, by protesting that I don’t want to be known, that people don’t get invested in the writing. Right or wrong — whether I think that’s fair or not — I fear it’s the case. When I first started out as Helena, it was a complete roll of the dice, as far as my ego went. Nobody knew who I was, and the writing would either stand on its own — in which case my ego would be placated — or it would flop, at which point my ego would pack its bags and move to Tiujuana and likely overdose on some bad Mexican brown.
When I first began writing, I was very detached. But somehow, I started letting bits of myself slip in, and California started coming back to me, and then Halesowen, and while I had never told these stories before, Helena could tell them. She could be that person for me. She could be vulnerable, and people would accept her — people would even love her. And I think that I have been brutally vulnerable at times — perhaps too much so. I’m always worried that by being vulnerable, I’m going to push people away. And so I wear a mask, so that it’s not ME that’s being vulnerable, it’s Helena. But I’m not milking artificial pain for readers. My laughter and my tears are genuine. There’s a real person behind Helena, and if you take the time to get to know me, you’ll know that the lines blur — I’m not that good a writer that there’s not so much of myself in Helena.
So who are you, then? Let’s cut to the chase.
Some people call me the space cowboy…
First and foremost, I am a dilettante. I have dipped my hand into any endeavour that I took a shine to. I’m a wanderer, and for the first time in my life, I’ve been in the same place for longer than I can believe.
I’ve been a poet and a painter (horrid things), a novelist, an actor, recently a playwright, an editor of a literary magazine ever so briefly. I’ve been a smoker, I’ve been a midnight toker, and more than once I’ve played the fool (I’ve got pictures to prove it). I’m a musician, a singer, a lover of wine. I’ve lived in abject poverty, and I’ve eaten food that would cost most people a week’s salary. I’m a survivor of child abuse, and I suffer from clinical depression. I’m a storyteller — which some might say is a fancy word for liar, darlings, but I’m not one of them.
I am a creator, and I created Helena — and became her — to see if I could. What began as just a paper mask to wear so that I could differentiate myself from my writing has become my persona, and I’ve spent more time over the last two years being Helena than I have being myself. It’s been an amazing experience, one which I plan on writing about, if you’d care to listen.
I’ve already hinted that one of the main reasons I don’t go by my own name is because of my father — that I didn’t want to be associated with him. That is 100% true. See, he named me after himself.
My name is Ken, and for the past two years, I have been writing as Helena Hann-Basquiat (and hey, Jessica B. Bell, too).
I’m a husband, a father of three girls, a feminist, a writer, and some of you call me friend.
And I’ve been juggling all this for some time now, and my arms are tired. I open up the floor to you, and will gladly answer your questions, so long as they’re not about underwear. Boxer briefs. There, mystery solved.
Moreover… I’m not finished. I have so many more stories to tell you, if you’ll just take my hands and let me show you.
A Final Note from the Sisterwives:
We value our readers. We value your stories, your thoughts and your opinions. We also pride ourselves on providing a safe place to share the stories you can’t share anywhere else. It’s who we are.
We encourage open and frank conversations of the why’s and wherefore’s of Ken’s masquerade and subsequent reveal. That kind of exchange is also something we pride ourselves on.
We also understand that for some of you, the reaction may be intense and personal. We would respectfully request that you contact Ken directly with discussions of that nature. We feel that those kind of conversations deserve the kind of respect that can only be facilitated in privacy.
Thank you for your continued support of the The Sisterwives project. Alone, we are enough – but together we truly are stronger.
The enigmatic Helena Hann-Basquiat dabbles in whatever she can get her hands into just to say that she has.
She’s written cookbooks, ten volumes of horrible poetry that she then bound herself in leather she tanned poorly from cows she raised herself and then slaughtered because she was bored with farming.
She has an entire portfolio of macaroni art that she’s never shown anyone, because she doesn’t think that the general populace or, “the great unwashed masses” as she calls them, would understand the statement she was trying to make with them.
Some people attribute the invention of the Ampersand to her, but she has never made that claim herself.
Earlier this year, she published Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume One, and is about to release Volume Two, along with a style tragi-comedy, entitled Penelope, Countess of Arcadia.
Helena writes strange, dark fiction under the name Jessica B. Bell – VISCERA, a collection of strange tales, will be published by Sirens Call Publications later this year. Find more of her writing at http://www.helenahb.com or and http://www.whoisjessica.com.
Connect with her via Twitter @HHBasquiat
I think almost every writer feels like this. I know that a lot of bloggers are eager to share and connect, and there are quite a few that do it very well. But, I think most of us aren’t comfortable with what sometimes feels like the “look at me” syndrome. I’m an author who blogs because my publisher and agent told me I had to. I have, at times, enjoyed it more than I thought I would. But, my love is writing fiction. And good fiction is the truth wrapped up in a lie. Which I’m comfortable with. So, I get it.
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If only we could just write and have our genius discovered in a vacuum.
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Good to finally meet you, Ken, (We have some things in common, Alexand as you know is my Helena 🙂 )
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You were one of the first people I discovered on line, Cheryl (and lucky me!) and I’m so glad we’re still in touch, even though both of us are busy as one armed paper hangers. (A visual I’ve never been comfortable with, but will use all the same).
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Wow. That’s quite a reveal, but it doesn’t much change the quality of the story. Bravo!
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Two years is a long time to engage in method acting….
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WOW. I don’t exactly know why but I’m very surprised & delighted Helena is a man! Amazing. When I heard your author vouce in my head it was a Britishy sexy Kathleen Turner. I’m a newer fan and I don’t have much time to read but I LOVED Jessica, the book and Jessica the person. Errr the character I suppose I should say. I look forward to your new books and going back to your books I haven’t read yet. It will be very interesting to see if the inner author voice changes 🙂
I can relate to feeling like an outsider, and wishing weren’t so but that saying about still waters running deep is not just a saying. It’s so very true. I’m with Lizzi when I say I’m fascinated with your brain. Please keep writing, in whatever way works for you!
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Doesn’t Kathleen Turner have the sexiest voice? Or used to, anyway, can’t say I’ve heard her recently, but my memories of her from Romancing the Stone/War of the Roses era are very sexy.
I’m glad to have you as a reader, Joy, and I do hope you stick around. I’ve got BIG things coming this year.
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Fascinating. Intriguing.
Immediately, I thought of the movie, Tootsie, when Dustin Hoffman said, ” Being a woman was the best part of my manhood.”
What are you thoughts on that?
Also, why did you decide to be a woman and not a man?
Is it because we are awesome-er?
A man who thinks and understands a woman. Wow, you are a dream))!
xx Love from MN.
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You are awesome-er. My reasons started simply to be as far removed from myself as possible, but as it developed, I began to realize that as a woman, I could add my voice to conversations that I perhaps might have been excluded from otherwise. As “a woman” online, I’ll say this — my depression; my vulnerability, has been much more accepted than it ever was as myself. There’s certainly something to be said about that, and it illustrates, in my opinion, why men need feminism just as much as women — the stupid patriarchal standards that we are supposed to conform to are just as ridiculous as those that women are expected to live up to.
My wife might tell you that I am, at times, just as clueless as most men. She expects me to be able to read her mind at times, and I confess, I have yet to acquire that skill.
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🙂
I really like Helena and this changes nothing. In fact, maybe I like her more seeing behind the curtain. Heart and humor, it’s always there. Welcome to the world, Kelena…Hen?
You aren’t alone. As the others have said…writers feel this way. You aren’t alone.
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Thank you, Kelsey. What is your opinion about me continuing to write as Helena? Is it the story that you warm to? Can you accept the story as is, and not get caught up in second guessing the story’s relationship with the writer…. if any?
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Pfft. You write as whoever you want to write as. J.K. Rowling got outed as Galbraith and she didn’t stop writing books by him. If you want to be Helena when you write, and that’s your author’s voice, then that’s who you should be.
Plenty of people have had pen names (Lemony Snicket for example). It’s your right to write as you wish 🙂
It definitely wouldn’t stop ME from reading!
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Wow, giant plot twist at the end! But actually I like it that you chose a female character. I think it igves interesting new views and opportunities. Plus, you’re a writer, freedom is yours.
As to what you way, I think it’s something every blog deals with at a certain moment. Blogging is still a very open thing, as in, everyone can read it, though it doesn’t feel like that happens. When I started blogging, I didn’t really blog about my life, but much more about music or movies and that kind of things. But after a few years I wanted to blog about my life more and more. But there’s always a part of me the interent won’t get. Because the stories would include other people as well, and I don’t want to give away all these things about other people. But it’s also for myself. There’s a limit. But that’s not necessarily bad I think.
Also, blogging with another name, another character gives you the right distance sometimes. English is not my native language, and that sometimes gives me the distance to write more freely.
So, in short, nothing wrong as far as I see it 🙂
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Okay, honestly, I’m a little in shock. But only a little. It doesn’t change a thing how I feel about your talent as a writer. As for your identity, I no longer take anyone at face value on the Internet. I stopped that a long time ago. I simply accept what a person is offering. It is what they have selected to reveal, to show, to share. I don’t think anyone shows everything anyway, probably only the best parts. Bravo for this post. I only wonder how it will change things for your writing/blogging for the future. I suspect it won’t change your fictional writing. When a writer has story to tell, I don’t think his/her identity matters in the telling. Blogging is different somehow as we all present a persona online, even if it’s separate from ourselves, it is still an online persona which people identity with. I’ve thought about being anonymous just for the thrill of it. How would it feel? What else or more would I share…maybe someday…
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I assure you (and anyone I interacted with will confirm this) I was never the fox in the henhouse. My motivations were never unsavoury or inappropriate. I, too, wonder where I go from here. I’ve faced a lot of discouragement mixed with varying levels of success, and it’s kind of a day to day thing for me whether to continue at all.
I’m not likely to suddenly be transparent about my life — that has not changed at all, so I don’t think anyone should expect to suddenly start seeing pictures of my kids showing up on my blog. It’s not who I am at my core — both my wife and I are very careful about what we post online when it comes to that.
I’ve repeatedly said i’m not really a blogger, and you’ve touched on something that has hindered me — that idea of being identifiable. I was never fully available, and truthfully, I don’t see myself being so. So we’ll see what happens.
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I guess being identifiable is a personal matter and depends on whether you want your name out there as a writer, or what name you want out there. Plenty of people have pen names for whatever reason. I’m very interested in knowing the things you discovered by adopting and being Helena. Will we have a part 2?
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At some point I am going to write about the whole experience.
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Oh, great!
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I assume that you heaved a giant sigh of relief today. Keeping up with a paper mask must have been a challenge at times, but I think too that good writers weave truth to fiction and fiction to truth. You’re an incredible writer, and now that you’re finally “out,” I think I will actually feel safer in sharing more of myself with you. Honestly, because you have always been honest about being a “fictional” character and so anonymous, I’ve kept up my guard a little. I look forward to getting to know you, Ken. Thank you for letting me be a part in all of this. I’ve said it before, and I mean it more now. I’m glad I know you. Cheers. (Does ken drink greyhounds, too, because if not, this might change everything.)
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I do, actually. They’re not my first go-to, but I was introduced to them by a friend in Berkeley, California once, and I’ve enjoyed them ever since as a sharper alternative to the more common screwdriver.
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Good. Let’s be friends.
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Dear Ken,
You may or may not remember, but last June I was out in Virginia to visit my brother. Instead of the fun outings he’d planned he developed a horrid nosebleed and spent most of my visit in the hospital. While my sister in law was out doing all the necessary things, I was alone for most of the first day with their dogs. There was one person I managed to connect with online…Helena. As I recall we shared depression stories and offered comfort to one another. I appreciated her company on a crappy afternoon. Do I feel duped that she turned out to be a man? Not at all. I’ve no doubt of the genuine care.
I said it before and will say it again…I applaud your creativity. Now I feel like I know Helena even better. I consider both of you friends.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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I do remember. I was glad for your company, and am pleased to learn that I could be a comfort to you. Thank you for your constant kindness. As I recall, we’ve also shared some laughter and commiseration as well.
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It’s all about the stories, right? I hope this makes it easier for you and you keep delivering! Good luck!
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Thank you, Selena. I know you’ve been very patient with me.
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Bravo and nice to meet you! I had a wonderful time being a beta reader for VISCERA and I can’t wait for it to be out in print! I have enjoyed both Helena and Jessica. Being the sick and twisted pirate that I am, I can always appreciate the macabre. That is something that goes back to my childhood, wonderful memories of dark stories past. Looking forward to more wonderful writing from you!
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I’m actually putting a surprise in the mail for you tomorrow, Melissa. (Remember the random acts of kindness?) I hope you enjoy it!
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Well, this is just a bonus in my opinion…you are my brother and my sister… gotta love that 🙂
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Pingback: Unmasked: A love letter to our favorite Dilettante | The D/A Dialogues
I can’t help but bask in the how far we have come light, to think a man would use a female pseudonym and be successful with it. I’ve always thought of Helena as an intriguing, dark, mysterious, troubled character. Seems like my instincts might have been a little spot on. The way you have been able to “fool” us all is a testament to your writing. Gives us a curtsy and take a bow!
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Wow I related so much to your words Ken I felt like I seeing and reading a description of me! You’re an amazing story teller and I will be searching for more of what you write. 😊
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Thank you so much.
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You’re very welcome. 😊
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Not surprised. Congrats.
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Well, I’ll be damned! I’m not all that surprised… you are a writer after all. Nice nom de plume. I guess you are a pretty damn good writer. See you around
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Thank you, Ted.
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Still a kindred spirit – male or female. 🙂
There’s a warmth in you that can be felt through a computer screen & even behind that paper mask you speak of. I noticed you’re careful not too let it show too much but, those that have had the pleasure of even short conversation with you know it’s there.
Keep doing what you do. Whether it’s as Helena, Jessica, Ken or someone else. You have an irreplacable gift.
Don’t worry about us. (The audience.) Write for you. Because you breathe it. Drink it, bleed it. Morbid, a bit, I know, but I know you understand.
Don’t mind us. “We’re all mad here…”
😉
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Ah, yes, I recall your visit to my about page. Thank you for your kindness.
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Yea, my icon & half of my username has changed since then but, I’m still the same. I wear a partial mask on here too – though it’s for different reasons, I still get it.
I wish you all the best. ♥
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Method acting is quite right. I used to be rather insecure until I let go. But while I maintained my name, it wasn’t my exactly good name; inevitably I was lacking in authenticity and good personality. All that changed when I got into the nitty-gritty of writing, with admiration of the qualities of a female character I created.
There’s always going to be some kind of mask when it comes to blogging. This isn’t Facebook. There are plenty of character bloggers out there. It’s just now you chose to admit the lie. It was a bit of a shock, the reveal, I admit.
Either way, you can’t have genuine drama without real-life drama. Like all writers you have a bit of yourself in the stories. You are an artist, with some of the anti-social qualities that come of artists.
The real sad part here is how the mental health issue lines are drawn. It’s not a feminism thing when men are rejected; it’s sexism. The illness or person shouldn’t be rejected on account of gender or attractiveness, but people have done that.
Yes, some people won’t accept you for you; but don’t dig the hole out of fear because of bad people; find better people. Holding yourself to a lie complicates things. Strange truth is always better than dead fiction.
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Good writer. Penis or not no matter. Just good writer. I honestly have a hard time telling the gender of people on-line unless it’s really obvious. Not information that is super important. There are still some blog buddies I have who I don’t know if they’re male or female. Doesn’t matter. You’re a good writer Helena-Ken. We are all artifices on-line, preparing and extending a version of ourselves that is not necessarily ourselves. We can rehearse our answers, orchestrate them, take our time – not what we can do in real life. I think that’s okay, the relationships are real and the appreciation of peoples’ art is real. I think you are an artist. Nothing else matters.
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I really appreciate that you consider me an artist, Trent. You are quite the writer, yourself, and like gravitates to like.
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Dear Ken,
Few writers manage to truly surprise me. You have, but in a most pleasant way. It’s rare for any man to be able to write in a woman’s voice convincingly, especially for an extended period of time. The one thing that may have tipped me off is your knowledge of and appreciation for Steve Taylor and his music. Rochelle is the only other woman I know who shares that affinity of mine–at least on the level that we appreciate him.
I was mentioning to my wife the other day what a brilliant pen name you have. I got blessed with an awesome, literary-sounding name from birth, so I’ve never bothered to monkey with it. Still, creating an awesome pen name is both a cool thing and a bit tricky. (Look at you, you feminist! You even managed to hyphenate yours!)
This one’s for all of us who still believe in Sock Heaven! I’ll meet you there some day, but I’m sure will have a good time raising Cain together in this world before we get to the next.
All my best,
Marie Gail
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Oh, I don’t know — I could point you to a bunch of young women who know of Steve Taylor — in fact, I believe it was my good friend Rachel who introduced me to him, along with Larry Norman & Phil Keaggy.
Glad to surprise you, MG…
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🙂 Perhaps the key word there is “young.” Most of the fans of his that I know over 40 are men, but then again, most of the hardcore fans of alternative Christian rock and grunge that I know have been men–which may just mean I don’t have very many female friends.
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If revealing your true identity is what you truly wanted then I’m glad for you and welcome you, though clearly your true self, your heart has been here all along.
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I loved your work as Helena and I’ll love it as Ken. You are a good writer who crafts an intelligent tale. I do write some short stories as Rachel Crofton, but can’t pull off the woman’s voice as convincingly as you. Well done.
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Thanks Russell. Unless you’re taking a shot at my masculinity. (Kidding).
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I am completely blown away by your sheer talent and the intricacies of your mind. I could not have more respect for what you have done here.
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Thank you so much…. I somehow missed this comment… sorry.
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No prob. The whole thing still blows me away
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I’m stunned, happy, amazed, nonplussed, sad, happy, delighted, happy, struck (not quite) dumb, happy …
I shall always love Helena Hann-Basquiat. I mean, I got her name right away, of course, and I thought it was clever and delightful. I also thought, albeit very, very fleetingly, from all the “darlings,” and that occasionally camp, 1920s tone that it might be a man masquerading as a woman, but that thought went away, because your tone was so … well, true, and truly female!
That’s some fine method-acting, and I’m quite moved by your ability to be a woman when you write. That’s genius.
It’s hard being fictional — but it’s in fiction that the truth always shines.
Welcome, Ken! (I hope you won’t forget Helena, thought. I’m in love with Helena!)
Thanks, always, for commenting on what I write, for encouraging me. I think you’re a wonderful online friend, even though online friendships are exhausting. Don’t worry about always keeping in touch. Friends will always be there, when you want them — sorry to sound all sentimental about it!
~Dreamer of Dreams
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Thank you, Vijaya. We come and go, but I am always happy to see you around.
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And with a wife and three daughters, you’re in good female company. How wonderful!
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