Arts & Entertainment
Sympathetic siblings
Memoir chronicles journey through a transition

Cover to ‘My Brother My Sister.’ (Image courtesy of Viking)
‘My Brother My Sister’
By Molly Haskell
Viking
$26.95
213 pages
Mom always said you were two of a kind.
You and your favorite sibling: yin and yang, two halves of a whole. A lot of film was spent documenting your lives. A lot of memories are shared when you get together.
Once upon a time, you knew exactly what your sib was thinking — or did you? Read the new book “My Brother My Sister” by Molly Haskell, and you might wonder.
Growing up in Richmond , Va., in the post-WWII years, Molly Haskell, her brother Chevey and their friends enjoyed the same clubs, schools, cotillions and churches. She remembers a childhood of privilege and happiness.
Her brother remembers sneaking up to Haskell’s closet to try on her clothes.
Of course, that was unknown to Haskell until years later, when Chevey came to her in New York and told her that he’d decided to act on something that had vexed him for decades: nervously, he explained that he had gender dysphoria. He’d been on hormones for months. Years ago, he’d thought of himself as “Ellen,” the woman he knew he was inside.
It was something that Haskell never saw coming.
Chevey had been married twice. His first wife knew of his feelings, as did his second wife, but the latter was struggling with acceptance. So, in fact, was Haskell, though she was also curious to know the particulars.
When did Chevey know? (At age 7). How did he decide to do this? (The urge was so strong that he could do nothing else). Why did he wait 50-some years to transition? (Many reasons, including family). He likened his gender to a “birth defect.” It was time to make things right.
As Chevey became Ellen, Haskell mourned the loss of her brother. When Ellen informed the rest of the family of her news, Haskell kept “waiting for the sky to fall” but nothing happened. Yes, there were slips, gaffes, hurts and a few surprising revelations, but the world didn’t end.
“Lucky for me,” says Haskell, “my newly minted sister is still the magnificent human being my brother was.”
There’s an awful lot of “poor-me”-ing in the beginning of “My Brother My Sister;” a lot of hand-wringing from author Molly Haskell, and too much fretting about how her brother’s transformation would affect her. While some readers might imagine how they’d feel in the same situation, it’s pretty tedious, angst-ridden reading.
Thankfully, the book gets better.
Once Haskell’s story gets around to acceptance, readers are treated to a more relaxing read, one of discovery (both on Haskell’s part, and that of her sister), devotion, and of delight. That’s the raison d’etre of this book. What you’ll find from there to the end is why you’d want to read this book in the first place.
Aside from a bumpy beginning and some surgery descriptions that are TMI-overload, “My Brother My Sister” is ultimately satisfying, especially for those who may be going through these same issues.
Denali (@denalifoxx) of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” performed at Pitchers DC on April 9 for the Thirst Trap Thursday drag show. Other performers included Cake Pop!, Brooke N Hymen, Stacy Monique-Max and Silver Ware Sidora.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)














Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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