Religion, Politics, Sex

Q: I read your collection, "Churchboys and Other Sinners" a year ago for a graduate class at the University of Florida and thorougly enjoyed it. The Elwyn Stories in that book are wonderful and should be made into a novel or even a movie. Those stories perfectly and humorously capture what it feels like to grow up as a fundamentalist, Evangelical, or Pentecostal in America; believe me, personally, I know what I am talking about. Been there, done that. And yet, the stories are not judgmental or condescending to religion and religious folk. All of the other stories in the collection are excellent too, but I especially like "Prince William Blows Good," as it recasts the Oedipus myth in a modern musical context, "Get Some," "Is Randy Roberts There?" and "Jack Move." The story I take issue with is "C Plus Baptist Virgin," a certifiable masterpiece of the history of racial politics in America. The message of the tale of a black boy and white girl locked into their own "boxes" was not lost on me, but you claimed in an earlier blog to be a writer who does not cover the topics of politics, religion, and sex. Explain that contradiction, sir. I have ordered "All or Nothing" at Amazon and can't wait to read it. Congratulations on your NY Times review.

A: Thanks for your email.

I repeat: I do not discuss religion, politics, and sex. I do not discuss religion because most people I have encountered, nost friends even, are incapable of carrying on a religious argument with objectivity.

When I used to participate in religious discussions back in the Rawlings Hall dorms at UF, it always boiled down to a question of faith. One side would say, "This is what I believe and therefore it must be correct," and the other side would say, "This is what I believe and therefore it must be correct."

That is not an argument--that is a shouting match. Whoever has the biggest mouth, or fists, will win.

When I argue, I have this bad habit of listening carefully to the other side and then posing challenges to the other side's assertions. Many people seemed to take these challenges personally; I was attacking their arguments, but they reacted as though I were attacking their person. Many feelings were hurt. I would rather not hurt feelings, so I do not discuss religion.

I smile a lot when others have religious discussions around me, but I resist the urge to participate no matter how strong it be. I have come to see that, with few exceptions, no matter what my friends' religious beliefs are, they are still very good friends and I am fortunate to have them.

Questions of virgin birth, divinity of Christ, the rapture, water baptism versus sprinkling, Sunday worship versus the Sabbath, creation versus evolution, the fallibility of bible texts, the existence of heaven, predestination, women in the pulpit, gays in the pulpit, Christianity, Judaism, Islam, which is the RIGHT religion?--these are questions I have no burning desire to have answered. I am happy not knowing.

But the truth, of course, is that these questions were answered for me long ago when I was a child and too young to resist and therefore they became part of my core beliefs.

The truth is that these questions were answered for YOU, also, a long time ago when you were too young to resist.

Thus, when we argue these things, we become like children arguing. Even though it might be fun, I would rather not have a childish argument with you. I was punched in the face a lot when arguing as a child. The bigger kid always won because he was, well, bigger.

When I became a bigger kid, the little kids lost many arguments to me because I was bigger and could punch them, and because of something else--I was . . . bigger. Little kids naturally look up to bigger kids. Little kids naturally look up to their parents, who are the biggest kids of all. Parents are the ones who give their kids . . . religion.

When you oppose someone in a religious argument, you are opposing their parents, you are calling their parents stupid and dummies and wrong and not smart, you are laughing at their parents. Thus, they feel like punching you. I would feel like punching you too if you made fun of my mom.

The easist way to make fun of my mom? Oppose me in a religious argument.

I do not discuss politics because [[see above argument for religion and substitute "politics" for "religion"; substitute "punch in the face" for "chase you off my porch with a shotgun"; substitute "punch in the face" for "tell you that if you don't like the way things are done around here, long-haired freak, then maybe you should just go somewhere else, like Russia maybe"]]. My only political argument is that we vote anonymously in a private booth and that we vote often.

I do not discuss sex because it can be considered impolite. It can be considered rude [[see Bernie Mac at a celebrity roast for Obama]]. It can be inappropriate, especially if there are children in the room. It can embarrass people. I don't like to embarrass people. I don't like to be embarrassed.

So there you have it. I do not discuss religion, politics, and sex.

But I do write about them . . . a lot.

In fact, check out my erotic stories in Brown Sugar 1, 2, 3, 4, and Wanderlust: Erotic Travel Tales. Sex? OMG, did I write about sex in those books. I remember running into a library one afternoon to use their computers to check my email for one urgent matter or another and while I was handing the librarian my ID, I noticed that she was reading Brown Sugar (#1). Naughty girl.

I said to her, "You like that book, huh?"

The naughty girl blushed and put a hand over the cover. "It's okay," she said, obviously embarrassed.

I could not resist. I said, "Have you read my story in there yet?"

She said, "You have a story in here?"

"The first one. 'Nadine's Husband'."

"Oh my god! That one is so hot. But you . . . sex, you write about it? You?" She eyed me. Baffled.

"Yes, I look like a college professor complete with tie, briefcase, shiny shoes. and middle-aged spread. I may not look hot, but I write hot."

She grinned.

After that, we chatted and she signed me up to do a presentation for her reading group.

Sex? Me? Write about it? Yes. Double yes.

In fact, the fun thing about the good little churchboy Elwyn in "Churchboys and Other Sinners" is that he is involved in a clandestine affair with the widow Morrisohn. Say Amen, brother, and drop your drawers.

The collection is not named "Churchboys and Other Sinners" for nothing--it explores a number of religous themes, and as you pointed out, political ones too.

No reviewer has written about it yet, but while the focus of my novel "All or Nothing" is gambling addiction it does have its steamy moments too.

I am a writer. It is my job to explore sex, politics, religion and other important issues in my work. This is what writers do.

And if these themes get people to talking, or arguing, there will be fewer if any punches thrown because the safe context of the fictional world of the short story or the novel provides a medium for objectivity that would not otherwise exist. In other words, "I am not talking about your religious beliefs, I am talking about Elwyn's."

Get the trick? It is safer to make fun of Elwyn's mom, than to make fun of mine. It is safer to ogle the topless hookers in the Vegas of "All or Nothing" than to discuss your peculiar bedroom habits to the crowd at the office potluck.

By the way, emailer, I am putting the finishing touches on the Elwyn/Sister Morrisohn novel as we speak.

Finally, "C Plus Baptist Virgin" is a hat trick--mixing politics (as you pointed out)with both sex and religion (as you can see from its title--Its original title was "Thomas Jefferson and the C Plus Baptist Virgin").

[[By the way, Elwyn and Sister Morrisohn are not technically Fundamentalists, Pentecostal, or Evangelical--they are members of a related sect called Holiness that has been around nearly 200 years--but you can call them fundamentalists if you like.]]

Thanks for you support and your great email! What class was it at UF that used the book?

Go gators!

Preston