We were both shocked. Not shocked because she wasn’t ready, or good, or brilliant, but because neither of us had ever heard of a dyke getting a honest-to-god New York publisher book contract. Since— maybe Gertrude Stein? Did Gertrude Stein get a book advance? Out-of-the-closet lesbians didn’t get to write for New York publishers. Nope. NONE. We were box office poison, everyone knew that. Until that moment, in 1990, when she first heard that “yes.”