Yesterday was the final day of Pride Month. The corporate logos and brands have shelved their rainbow colors for another eleven months. Major media outlets have moved on from producing their “Top 10 queer things” lists. And we in America will move on to a dubiously named “Independence Day” as our next holiday on the calendar.

I wanted to use this opportunity to show my gratitude for your support of queer-run media, content makers, and authors who make it Pride Month every month. After all of this chaos settles, we’ll still be here. I’ve been thinking a lot about that phrase—we’ll still be here—since June 24th when 2/3rds of the Supreme Court decided that guns have more rights and protections than American women, when all I’ve wanted to do is scream into my pillow rather than celebrate the final few days of Pride. I’ve previously written about the challenge of writing romance novels and happy endings when everything feels so ugly and hateful everywhere else. I’ve described the work it takes to turn off all the outside noise to write about love and other sweet, hopeful things. But we do. Because we have to.

Back in the 1980s, a literature professor named Janice Radway wrote a remarkable text, Reading the Romance: Women, Patriarchy, and Popular Literature. In it, Radway interviewed 42 midwestern women and simply asked them why they read romance novels—a genre that’s often disparaged in academic circles or amongst those only interested in so-called “highbrow” culture. And what she discovered was remarkable. Despite what others might describe as the “formulaic” nature of romance novels, the simple act of taking time for themselves, time that was all theirs, was a kind of female rebellion. If they felt unappreciated, under-nurtured, or simply exhausted from their routine, taking time to read, no matter what it was, was a form of self-care. As one woman described, “We read books so we won’t cry.” That line has always stuck with me, but perhaps even more so since June 24th.

I think for many authors, writing is also an act of self-care. Even though this isn’t my full-time job, I view writing sapphic novels as much more than a hobby. It’s much more than a side hustle. It’s a necessity. And it’s also a privilege to be able to shut out the outside world, turn off the news, and avoid social media to just write. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do this not-Pride Pride month of July.

Thank you again for your support of sapphic literature and my most recent novel, Sour Grapes. I’m closing in on 300 rating and reviews on Amazon and have been really pleased with folks’ reception of June and Lucia. I have a second story for them floating around in my brain, but I’m currently plotting out Don’t Call Me Hero, book 6—tentatively titled Stolen Hearts. I’m more of a pantser than a plotter, however, so that plotting won’t be for much longer before I earnestly launch back into Cassidy & Julia’s Minnesota world.

Take care of yourself and be gentle with others.

best,

Eliza