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Eminent Outlaws: The Gay Writers Who Changed America

Eminent Outlaws delves into the lives and works of notable gay writers who have significantly influenced American culture and literature. more

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Christopher Bram
Christopher Bram

Christopher Bram, born on February 22, 1952, is an American author whose works span a variety of literary genres, including novels, plays, and poetry. Known for his profound insights into history and culture, Bram's writing often delves into themes of identity, gender, and social issues. more

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“No, Emily--- it was you I worried about. From the first rumors I heard of you, of your cleverness, your high regard for my silly son, I knew you were the real threat. Mortals always are, aren't they? If you read the stories. The arrogant faerie prince who can make gold from straw is always undone by the humble miller's daughter, not some powerful rival of his own stature." My stomach grew queasy. I had never felt so out of my depth when conversing with one of the Folk, not even the snow king of Ljosland. Wendell had been right, but it was no comfort to know that his stepmother had been afraid of me. I am used to being underestimated by the Folk--- nothing could be more dangerous than the opposite.”

ThreatHeroineConfronting FearsEvil Stepmother
Book:Emily Wilde’s Map of the Otherlands
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“Cinderella barely recognized her own voice. She sounded strong, firm- nothing like the girl she'd once been. "Stepmother. Anastasia. Drizella." They halted in their step, turning slowly to face her. Cinderella caught her breath, not at all surprised by Lady Tremaine's upturned nose and lifted chin. She used to fear that expression, used to fear displeasing her stepmother. She no longer had that fear. The crowds had gone silent, but even if they hadn't, Cinderella wouldn't have noticed the dozens of onlookers in the chamber. A strange sense of calm had flooded her; the words she was about to say were ones she'd never dared before, but she'd dreamed of them for years. No longer would they be fantasy. "I wish we could have been a family," she said, her voice strong yet quiet. "Ever since my father married you, it's what I wished for most. Instead, you neglected me, you made me serve you, and then you tried to sell me." She paused. "But I'm not angry with you." Now she had Lady Tremaine's attention. "I thought I would be," Cinderella admitted. "I was. But then I realized that it would only make me unhappy. And after being unhappy in your house for so long, I would never choose to feel that way again. I've accepted we aren't a family, and that we never will be. I've also accepted that I cannot forget those years that you were cruel to me." The height of Lady Tremaine's chin wilted ever so slightly. She wouldn't look at Cinderella, but her stepsisters lowered their eyes, shame tingeing their cheeks. "I forgive you, Stepmother, Anastasia, Drizella. I am not angry with you; if anything, I pity you. You can't know happiness if your life is built around resentment. For your sakes, I hope your hearts change.”

CourageousSympatheticCinderellaForgiveness And Letting GoQuiet StrengthEvil Stepmother
Book:So This is Love
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“We thought the place was haunted, and in fact my least favorite of Daddy’s wives, Jennifer Lee, once told me that the whole house was haunted, and that an entire family had been murdered in that very basement. I later learned she was just trying to frighten us off, because she didn’t like having us kids around, probably because we reminded her that Daddy had been with other women (and he may have liked them better than he liked her).”

StepmotherGolddiggerRichard PryorEvil Stepmother
Book:Jokes My Father Never Taught Me: Life, Love, and Loss with Richard Pryor
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“You're just like your degenerate mother," Sienna told her and turned away to head back to the house. Until that moment, Brigid hadn't fought back. "How would you know?" she called out loud enough for the maintenance men to hear. "You never met my mother, you fucking psycho." Sienna wheeled around, a wide smile on her face, raring to fight. "Go ahead. Speak your mind. You'll be out on the street blowing strangers for Snickers bars by the end of the day." Brigid had heard enough. "Well then, I guess I have nothing to lose." She stood up and pushed her lounge chair to the side. There, beneath it, was a mound of soil she'd first noticed days earlier. She'd spent hours watching its inhabitants, marveling at the complexity of their world. She hadn't wanted to see the colony eradicated, so she'd covered it up with the chair. Now she placed a bare foot at the center of the fire ant hill. Thousands of insects accepted the invitation. Soon they'd formed a thick line that started at her toe and reached all the way to her palm. Sienna watched with amusement. "If you think I'm going to help you, you've lost your mind. You're going to get what you deserve this time." "Am I?" Brigid walked toward her stepmother. She felt each and every ant crawling over her skin, all of them waiting for her command. Suddenly aware that the situation was swinging in her stepdaughter's favor, Sienna took a few more steps back until she reached the edge of the pool. "Don't come any closer, you little tramp!" she hissed. "I'm not a tramp, you dumb bitch, and neither was my mother." The ants were everywhere now. Her face was mere inches from her stepmother's when she smiled, showing off teeth crawling with insects. "I'm a witch.”

WitchEvil StepmotherFire Ants
Book:The Women of Wild Hill
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“Your stepmother told me that you weren't interested in helping me!" Brigid snorted. "You spoke to Sienna Laguerre? When?" "Right after you turned eighteen. I sent you a letter you never answered, so I got the attorney to give me your dad's phone number, and when I called your stepmother answered." "My stepmom? You mean the monster who tortured me every goddamned day until I got my first movie gig and moved the hell out of her house? The stepmother I haven't spoken to since that happened? The stepmother who was the inspiration for the life-sucking demon in the first film I wrote?" Phoebe pulled in a deep breath and held it. "Fuck," she sighed as she set it free. Sibyl was right. She'd been an idiot to listen to Brigid's stepmother.”

Truth RevealedEvil Stepmother
Book:The Women of Wild Hill
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“Pharmaceutical companies raked in billions by forcing all kinds of pills down the throats of the ill-informed populace. So in light of these facts, his prank call could’ve been considered a wake-up call, as millions of people were swallowing their prescribed pills every day, relying on supposedly safe drugs to perpetually put off their mental issues instead of facing them head on and resolving them for good. Not only did these drugs that were labeled legal and effective mask issues, but they also made people’s mental issues worse.”

MedicinePillsPharmaceuticalPharmaceutical CompaniesBig PharmaBand Aid HealthLegal PillsMask IssuesMask SymptomsPrescription Pills
Book:The Beasts of Success
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“I've been accustomed to mysteries, holy and otherwise, since I was a child. Some of us care for orphans, amass fortunes, raise protests or Nielsen ratings; some of us take communion or whiskey or poison. Some of us take lithium and antidepressants, and most everyone believes these pills are fundamentally wrong, a crutch, a sign of moral weakness, the surrender of art and individuality. Bullshit. Such thinking guarantees tradgedy for the bipolar. Without medicine, 20 percent of us, one in five, will commit suicide. Six-gun Russian roulette gives better odds. Denouncing these medicines makes as much sense as denouncing the immorality of motor oil. Without them, sooner or later the bipolar brain will go bang. I know plenty of potheads who sermonize against the pharmaceutical companies; I know plenty of born-again yoga instructors, plenty of missionaries who tell me I'm wrong about lithium. They don't have a clue.”

SuicidePillsMedicationBipolarManic DepressionLithium
Book:Scattershot: My Bipolar Family
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“The say addiction might be linked to bipolar disorder. It's the chemicals in our brains, they say. I got the wrong chemicals, Ma. Or rather, I don't get enough of one or the other. They have a pill for it. They have an industry. They make millions. Did you know people get rich off of sadness? I want to meet the millionaire of American sadness. I want to look him in the eye, shake his hand, and say, 'it's been an honor to serve my country.”

IndustryCapitalismAddictionPillsMedicationBipolar
Book:On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
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