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Jennifer Finney Boylan busts through hate with ‘Cleavage’

Bestselling author, scholar promoted latest book in D.C. in February

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When bestselling author Jennifer Finney Boylan came to D.C. earlier this month to promote her new memoir, “Cleavage,” she chose an on-stage partner with whom she has some history, to pose questions before a gaggle of book lovers, members of the LGBTQ community and fans. Transgender Delaware Congresswoman Sarah McBride provided a bookend of sorts, given that Boylan fulfilled that same role when McBride published her first memoir, “Tomorrow Will Be Different.”

“Jenny moderated the first discussion when my book came out in 2018 at the Strand in New York City,” McBride said. “And I was star-struck. I was intimidated, because you were, really, for me, the first contemporary example of a trans person that wasn’t, as you write about in this book, on ‘Jerry Springer.’ Being exploited.” 

“And that’s the hardest thing, I think, that some of us experience when we were growing up,” said Boylan. “At least for me, it was, I almost never saw anybody like me on TV or in the movies. And if there was anyone even vaguely like me, they were usually either a villain or someone who was a figure of ridicule. Thank goodness all that has changed!” The crowd laughed along, knowingly. 

But it was not just McBride who joined Boylan in the Politics and Prose bookstore at the Wharf. They were joined by other trans trailblazers: Activist Mara Keisling, Adm. (ret.) Rachel Levine, former Department of Defense official Amanda Simpson and journalist and activist Charlotte Clymer. 

This event was just one stop on a whirlwind national tour to promote Boylan’s book, featuring Roxane Gay in New York, WBUR senior arts and culture reporter Cristela Guerra in Cambridge, and other stops with celebrity guests from Maine to Santa Cruz, Calif. 

Boylan has explained at each stop what compelled her to write a sequel to her bestselling first memoir, “She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders,” from 2003. 

“If you’re a writer, stories are my bread and butter,” she said. “And there are a lot of stories I haven’t told. There are also some stories I wanted to revisit.”

“Cleavage,” she revealed, was to acknowledge that things have changed since she told the world she was trans. 

“One of the stories I wanted to look at was the difference between coming out now and coming out 25 years ago,” said Boylan. “I have a transgender daughter. She came out six or seven years ago. And how did I react? I freaked out. Did I put my arms around my child and say, ‘Love will prevail?’ No. I remember literally jolting in my chair. Literally. It was as if I had been struck by lightning. And my first thought was, ‘Damn.’ Because, as most of us know, it’s a hard life. And even when things go about as well as they can, which I think—and there are a lot of success stories in this room—it’s still a hard life.”

After conversations with the author at these events, the hosts have opened the floor to questions from the audience, often not just about Boylan’s memoir but about the state of affairs in Washington and across the nation. 

At the event at the New York Public Library earlier this month, Gay fielded this question from someone who moderates a trans nonbinary peer support group: “What can you tell our members to give them hope?” Boylan took a moment to consider the question. 

“Here’s what we know. Right now, things are really bad. And they’re not just bad for queer and nonbinary and trans people. They’re bad for a lot of people. They’re bad for anybody who doesn’t kind of fit into this 1950s all-male review of singing and dancing that these people have prepared for us. It is hard,” she said. 

“We have been through hard times before in this country. We have been through a civil war. We’ve been through depression. We’ve been through, well, you know, the shit keeps hitting the fan. But this moment, as aggressive as it feels, will not last forever. And this will not define us. And I think that, what’s that Paul Simon song? ‘I believe in the future we will suffer no more. Maybe not in my lifetime, but in yours, I feel sure.’” Boylan was referencing the 1990 song, ‘The Cool, Cool River’ by Paul Simon. “Oh, gee, do I have to be dead for things to get better? I hope not,” added Boylan, before continuing her message.

“This moment, which feels so oppressive, is not the last word,” she said. “This is just beginning. And we have not, unfortunately, we have not yet started to fight back. But we are going to fight back. And, you know, I hope I can say they don’t know what’s coming for them! So, let’s make that clear. Is this really what the majority of Americans wanted? This? I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. And so, we just have to work for it and not lose our hope. And, yeah, keep telling your stories.” 

Simpson told her story at the event in D.C., comparing how the movement for marriage equality differs from the movement for trans rights. 

“It was about the neighbors you know, and that there were LGBT people in your neighborhood,” she said. “I was an aerospace engineer. We had firemen and policemen. We had military people, all doing these ads saying, ‘Look, we’re just your neighbors. Get to know the individual, not this larger concept of an LGBT person,’ and that worked. And I think we have to do that again. It’s about that personal introduction to them. We do these things to show that we’re just like everyone else. We’re human. But we have a leader sitting down the street who has made this such a sharp point to help energize or misdirect what’s going on. And being a Jewish woman, I remember—well, not personally, but I look back at what happened in 1933 and 35 overseas and think about the similarities of picking on one group of defenseless, underrepresented people to help focus everyone else to be behind you. And that’s, I think, what we’re seeing.”

Levine, a former assistant secretary of Health and Human Services in the Biden-Harris administration, followed-up. 

“I would agree with Amanda about the political aspect of this, it’s been very well reported that this is a specific strategy, an iterative strategy developed by right-wing think tanks in Washington to split the progressive movement,” Levine said. “They lost marriage, did not feel that they could gain that back, and so they were looking for a scapegoat, and thought that they could make progress by demonizing us and otherizing us, starting with trans athletes, then going on to transgender medicine or gender-affirming care for youth, and now you see, you know, denying that we exist at all, and then potentially trying to go back to sexual orientation as well … It was a specific political and ideological strategy which, unfortunately, they weaponized and were very successful in doing that, and I think that we were conveniently there, but now, what do we do? Now here we are, in this extremely challenging environment, and the key will be how our community, supported by the broader LGBTQ community and our allies, respond.”

Keisling pointed part of the blame for right-wing attacks on the community itself, for its handling of trans athletes and its hyperfocus on JK Rowling, who she called “a jerk.” 

“They landed on this sports thing, which we totally screwed up,” said Keisling. “Instead of talking about the seven-year-old who wants to play soccer with her friends, we were talking about Olympians and NCAA swimmers, which we should have been defending against, but that wasn’t our strongest argument. What I have been saying for 10 years is we don’t seem to understand, we as progressives, that we are also part of the problem. We are not focused on what narrowness we’re hearing. Now, I believe this is about populism and politics, as Amanda said. But they came over and started picking people off on our side, and we have never done that. Progressives won’t do that. Progressives will never, ever, ever welcome somebody to come over from the other side. And that’s a mistake, and we’ve got to figure out how to do that, how to reach out to people, how to win over people. And once we win them over, we have to fucking embrace them. And most of the activists I know won’t do that.”

McBride stepped in to concur. 

“I agree with you, Mara,” she said, “I think we have lost the art of coalition building. We have created a space where there is no room for imperfect allies. We have eliminated space for people to grow because they at least perceive that they will be seen as permanently guilty for having been wrong.” 

Clymer agreed. 

“Say what you will about the Evangelical Church, and I have a lot of things to say about the Evangelical Church, but their greatest strength is that there is a very low threshold for entry,” she said. “You show up to the congregations, you don’t have to know anything, you don’t have to have any knowledge of theory or practice or whatever, you just show up and you’re welcome to the pulpit. We as a progressive movement, and I think to your point, Mara, we do not do a very good job of keeping a welcome threshold for entry into the movement. We tell folks that if you don’t know this sort of thing, or this theory, or if you’re not aware of this or that or whatever, we make people afraid to err, make mistakes. And I do think we need to get better at that.” 

Boylan got the last word. 

“I think that we were defined with some of the hardest issues to understand. And rather than the fact that, you know, I don’t particularly want to play sports with your kid. I want to teach them English,” she said, then turned to McBride. “You are not here to play sports. You are here to represent the people of Delaware. So, the main thing we want is we want to be able to do our jobs. We want to be able to walk tall. And guess what? We also would like to be left alone.” 

Boylan was asked if there was a bumper sticker for trans rights that could match what “Love is Love” accomplished for marriage equality. Her response: “Love is the wise person’s revenge. Love is the best revenge in the world.”

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David Archuleta on Mormon faith, ‘Idol,’ more in new book

Unique memoir details religious upbringing, coming out

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(Book cover image courtesy of Gallery Books)

‘Devout: Losing My Faith to Find Myself’
By David Archuleta
c.2026, Gallery Books
$29/290 pages

So just make up your mind already.

The decision is very much in your control – or, at least that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’ll be your future, your path, and seizing it may not just be necessary, but mandatory. It’s your life, and no one can live it for you. As in the new memoir “Devout” by David Archuleta, that goes for career and for love, too.

Born to parents who both had musical careers before they wed, David Archuleta remembers an early childhood growing up in a Hispanic Mormon community in Florida, where kin was always nearby. He was six when his parents moved the immediate family to Utah; the first thing he remembers about that is the snow, and how it was so cold, it burned.

Because music was in his blood, Archuleta grew up singing and dancing, often with his mother whom he calls “my rock.” It was his father, however, who encouraged him to perform; first, with a gentle push, then a shove toward a career Archuleta didn’t really want.

But he did want to make his father happy, so he went along with the contests, embarrassing meet-and-greets with stars, and uncomfortable introductions. Slowly, though, performing became more fun, and Archuleta made friends.

Meanwhile, back home, everything was breaking apart. A “family friend” whom Archuleta refuses to name accused his father of abuse. He was exonerated, but it affected the family’s closeness and they stopped being affectionate.

That was a painful backdrop to Archuleta’s soaring career, his appearances on Star Search, friendships with other rising stars, his runner-up spot on “American Idol,” tours, and recording contracts. His father kept pushing him.

But there was one thing missing.

Since he was a boy, Archuleta had known that he was attracted to men, but his Mormon faith taught him that that was unacceptable. Kissing, his abuelita said, was wrong. He tried hard to date girls, in the most chaste way. Anything past that was against God – and anything at all with a man was unthinkable.

Though it absolutely favors his personal life and dwells on it a bit too much, “Devout” strikes an otherwise nice balance between that, author David Archuleta’s career, his sexuality, and his faith. The latter two are loaded with controversy.

You don’t need to be Mormon to fully understand the faith part; Archuleta offers non-Mormons a brief education, so readers can see the importance of the Church’s teachings in his life and why he felt the need to abandon it as his understanding of his bisexuality grew. It’s emotionally raw and honest, but also so respectful that it almost bears re-reading. Such candor and the heart-on-his-sleeve tone you’ll sense are features in the entire book, alongside Archuleta’s family’s struggles and his learning to strike out alone.

It’s harmonious in more ways than one, and fans will be happy.

So, too, will anyone who wants a unique memoir with a dose of faith, or someone who’s an “American Idol”watcher. Find “Devout” and be sure to share. You won’t mind.

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‘Mighty Real’ explores history of LGBTQ music

From Judas Priest to Whitney, something for every taste

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(Book cover image courtesy of Viking)

‘Mighty Real: A History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000’
By Barry Walters
c.2026, Viking
$35/496 pages

Step, step, tap, back step.

Shimmy in a circle, left hand waving over your head, shake your tail feathers, repeat to the beat. Once there was a time when you could do any dance in your sleep, but it’s been a while. So read “Mighty Real” by Barry Walters, and see if your toes don’t tap.

Fifty-seven years after Stonewall, and here we are: LGBTQ musicians still face scrutiny for their sexuality because, says Walters, music isn’t created for gay listeners. No problem: LGBTQ artists and writers have often penned lyrics carefully in order to say what can’t be said, “coding” songs for gay audiences that straight (and ignorant) listeners can dance to and enjoy with apparent obliviousness.

Walters offers “just a few” examples.

Lou Reed sang about trans people in the late ‘60s and offered a rallying song for the Gay Liberation Front in 1972, the latter of which felt like a message to a then-11-year-old Walters. Janis Joplin claimed she was straight, but she had several girlfriends. Motown singers often offered sometimes-ambiguous lyrics.

John Lennon’s hand placement on the back cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band made Walters begin to understand that he was different from other boys.

David Bowie is on his list, of course, as is Bette Midler, Elton John, Donna Summer, and Queen. You’ll find Judas Priest here, Green Day, and punk music. The Village People are included in this book, also Grace Jones, Duran Duran, and Cher, Whitney, Melissa, Latifah, and the lyrics from several blockbuster movies.

Two of Prince’s band members were lesbians, and they heavily influenced his albums. Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” cemented her position in LGBTQ culture, and Michael Jackson’s inclusion here takes much careful consideration.

Read about Olivia Newton-John and the B52s. And then there’s Sylvester, for whom Walters has a soft spot in his heart. Sylvester’s death still makes Walters cry.

In his preface, author and music writer Barry Walters points out that music is what you make it and that it’s interpreted differently by each individual. To that end, this book naturally consists of preferential history and personal opinions about singers, bands, albums, and songs.

Agree or disagree. That’s where much of the appeal lies in “Mighty Real.”

Here, Walters wraps his memories around his choices, giving readers room for their own views, memories, and list making. Music-loving readers might also be surprised to note who’s not on Walters’ list – there aren’t many country performers here, for example, and the overall list focuses entirely on music from roughly 1968 to the year 2000, mostly on the kinds of songs you’ll want at the club or party. Again, discuss, and curate your own playlist.

This is a hefty book, but the chapters are browse-able and generally short enough to read in under five minutes. It’s nostalgic, yet also serious in the history it presents. This is the kind of book you want to leave near your album collection, or wherever you get your tunes. But finding “Mighty Real” is your first step.

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Books for a pre-Pride celebration

‘LGBTQ Almanac’ explores 500 years of queer culture

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You’re all geared up.

You’ve got your best parade-walking shoes, your coolest tee, your most-comfortable shorts, and a rainbow flag to carry. You’re set for Pride, but before you go, try one of these great new books about LGBTQ life and history.

After the parade, where will you end up? A place to talk your experience over, to re-hash things for the next parade? Then you may need “The Lesbian Bar Chronicles: The Living History and Hopeful Future of Americas Dyke Dives and Sapphic Spaces” by Rachel Karp (Beacon Press, $29.95).

Lesbian bars, says Karp, are more than just places to drink. They’re also places to find community, and to organize. For many, she says, they are “sanctuaries,” as they have been for at least a century, and this book introduces you to some of the people who run the establishments, the things they do to support their patrons, and the 100-year-plus bravery that it took to own, run, and enter a lesbian bar.

If you had to name a gay icon, there are probably quite a few who come to mind. So read “Without Prejudice: My Life as a Gay Judge” by Harvey Brownstone (ECW Press, $21.95) and add another name to your list.

This memoir, written by Canada’s first openly gay judge, takes readers from Brownstone’s childhood to his life as a lawyer, then to his work within the justice system in Ontario, and beyond, to his current career. This is a surprising, informative book that gives you an idea what gay life is like, north of our uppermost borders, then and now.

Pride is a celebration, an event, but it also demands a peek backwards, and in “The LGBTQ Almanac: 500 Years of Queer Culture in American History” by Deborah G. Felder (Visible Ink Press, $39.95), you’ll get a wide look at the pioneers, allies, policy, and gay life over the course of the last five centuries. Want to know more about religion in the gay community? It’s in here, along with celebrities, presidents, science, business, and more. This is the kind of book that settles bets. It’s one you want to have in any room of your home because it’s comprehensive and perfectly browse-able for all of its 600-plus pages.

And finally, here’s a book to read and think about: “No Fats No Fems: A Guide to Queer Empathy and Unpacking Prejudice” by Max Hovey (HarperOne, $19.99). How do you eliminate hateful, hurtful words, aimed at gay people – by gay people? What kind of stereotypes do we carry, unintentionally? This book takes those things out into the daylight by talking honestly and thoughtfully about them, as well as other issues. It’s a book to have when doubts creep in, when you need a new way of thinking or a different direction, or when you just want something different to read.

And if these great books aren’t enough, head to your favorite bookstore or library and ask for books that you can read before Pride or after. And happy Pride!

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