Dear Rude, Random luck (plus a combination of google search words that we all know, love and feel a little guilty about) smiled upon me the other day when I stumbled upon your amazing and sincere work. I agree with those who note that along with Ms., you have given us the most accomplished, accurate and relatable depiction of our shared sexuality that’s ever been written. And yeah, I agree with you: it’s a sexuality, not a kink; it’s something that we are arguably born with, one that is present and developing well before one’s sexual development has even begun. Honestly though, until I read your work, I assumed I was the only person who was tuned in to this by kindergarten. It’s interesting actually, a group conducting recent study in the U.K. (uh…one that I also discovered via a randomGoogle search) was shocked to discover that despite the banning of corporal punishment in UK schools, interest in the practice by contemporary adults in the UK was consistent with that of the caning years. They decided that it wasn’t a nostalgia trip among enthusiasts, but something that was more ‘hardwired’. Many of our personal stories speak of unfulfilled lives spent “passing” as vanillas in order to maintain companionship and avoid social embarrassment (which is kind of ironic when you think about it). Works like yours make us realize we are not the only freaks in the circus. Prior to you and Ms., as others have commented, we had nothing “genuine” literature that reflected us. I always found the available literature too extreme and too stiff particularly in its dialogue. Often it verged into a creepy or overly violent areas which are and probably should be a turn off (who am I to judge tho). Out in the world was no better: In the old days, I used to go to a club in Cambridge Mass. on some Friday nights when they had a “kink night”. I would be dressed like a total vanilla (not even appropriate wear for the rock clubs down the street really) and of course everyone else was in vanta-black rubber outfits. I never spoke to one person despite going multiple times, never (god forbid) danced and only once got whacked by a female Dom while kneeling on a church kneeler after standing in line for the privilege. It was a thrill but also frustrating. I imagine all I really had to do was walk up to someone and start talking but I’m bad enough at that at regular parties, so time continued to march on as it still does. We’ve all learned to develop our imaginations and get by with that for the most part. I got very lucky in that I married someone who while not an official member of the team, was willing to participate and it became a joyous part of our sexuality. And as it definitely is a sexuality, even going somewhere like one of those tantalizingly available NYC “clubs” where you can pay for it would be the equivalent of cheating as far as I’m concerned so I never did or would. As you noted, I also find it very very hard to write the word and it’s practically impossible to say out loud.) My sainted wife remains the only person I’ve ever revealed myself to aside from posting it anonymously on this here public forum. And why? Largely because of the courage you displayed. You had great courage to do what you did. I wanted to be sure that I didn’t just benefit from your work but also supported you by reaching out and saying hello. It was sad to read in your introduction that you have recently gone through some depressive episodes. And I feel your pain with regard to the politics of our ‘interesting times’, the meanness of the rhetoric and the disconnect we all experience as we negotiate the terms of our private, social media algorithms. Please hang in there. The world needs you. Our world needs you. Plus, you’re a great and rare talent. Your art speaks on so many levels (my favorite panel is the one at the Christmas party with the mainstream faces saying all those things without realizing how super charged their words are.) You’ve succeeded in depicting life as it is and honestly, it opened a new way of looking at things for me. Peace and love.