Settling In Gently by R.A.Davis

So I'm writing a romance novel about gay mormon missionaries and it started as me cackling over my keyboard: "heheheh, this is quite scandalous, the church leaders say 'grab your muskets to defend yourselves from the gays? I'ma make missionaries *Kiiiissss* and touch each others' BUTTS, So there!! " It started as a thumb to nose at the church, neener neener. Well, really at the specific homophobia of the church in the early 2000s. That's when I was marinating in it. Pfff, I knew I was queer when I went on a mission. I fell in love with girls since middle school! (Hi Elly! I love you!!!! You're literally the coolest person in the world!!!) but I also fell in love with boys and I kinda... hoped that would cancel it out (sorry Elly. I'm the worst. You deserved better and I'm glad you got it. Still love you, though.) I even put words to it-- I bought bisexual pins for my paisley flute case! I was out! And also Mormon! What the fuck!! So then I went...

Being a Mormon Missionarionette, Marriage, and My Imaginary Boyfriend April 22, 2019 I don't know why, but I'm thinking about my mission, and about marriage, and relationships, and God, and it's like a nosebleed-- unstoppable until sufficiently reclotted in my brain, so I am going to dribble bloodily all over my blog until I figure out what I'm thinking, and my thoughts reclot themselves. When I was 21, I was a Mormon Sister missionary in Japan-- a Shimai Senkyoushi in the Tokyo North LDS Mission to be very exact about it. I was young and strong and beautiful, although I had no idea at the time-- looking back at pictures I am astonished I was every so clear of eye and bright of brow. I was as lovely and celibate as a Laurel, entombing myself in lovely twisting wood to preserve my virtue. Maybe that's too pretty of a way to put it. I was young and serious and chaste, mortified to be of flesh and up to my split ends in a project to mortify the flesh, one day of...