From the Editor

A Note from the Editor
From Women on the Verge

By Susan Fox Rogers

While I gathered essays for this collection, I referred to it as my "anti-erotica" anthology. And then I'd laugh because I'm certainly not anti-erotica, and neither is this collection. But it was a shorthand way of saying: I want more than sex. In recent years I have felt culturally and literally defined by my lesbian sexuality, more specifically by erotic sexual experiences. There's nothing wrong with that, but I wanted complexity, more of "life" -- more of those experiences, not overtly sexual, that make us emotionally, and physically excited, that makes us sweat, that define us.

I called myself a rock climber, lived by climbing language and dress years before I knew I was a lesbian. It was the feel of cold hard rock biting into the tips of my fingers that made me rush into the day wanting more. I knew I couldn't be alone in my passions. As always, I wanted company, and for me, the best company is that held between the covers of a book. So I did what I always do: went looking for tales from lesbian writers that revealed passions beyond the bedroom door. "Erotica-plus-something" is how I should have referred to this collection.

As with my other anthologies, I began with an idea and waited to see what arrived in the mailbox. I knew I wanted nonfiction because life always seems more fascinating than anything we can make up, and what is happening in the world of nonfiction writing (or even what that is) is changing and changeable. Beyond that, I wanted essays that were "verge-y" -- that trod along an edge of desire or becoming. No cliches allowed. As usual, I was surprised and delighted by what I received.

Many writers here share my sense that in the physical lies passion: Included are stories of bungee jumping or vaulting out of planes, of rafting or hiking. Eileen Myles, all New York, is found hiking up a volcanic mountain in Hawaii and her feat leaves us breathless. Not all of these women are fearless; rather, they reveal, often through humor, both the passion and impossibility of their adventures. Some writers actively pursue their appetite for physical daring or endurance: Andrea Cohen seeks out water like a fish, and won't go anywhere unless she can swing. Others, like Lucy Jane Bledsoe (who is an intrepid adventurer) are dragged along by the passion of their girlfriends (in this case for sailing.) In the process Bledsoe, like most of these adventurous women, balances along edges that are more emotional than physical.

These physical lives begin in our youth -- P.F. Witte explores the possibility of becoming Superman, and Franci McMahon (almost) wins a horse race at an early age -- a time when we are not sexual but are imagining our power.

Not all of these essays here are based in the physical. BK Loren, with her black belt in karate, has a power few know, but the edge she skirts here is more spiritual. IN "Jail Time for Beginners," tatiana de la tierra takes us along for a ride to jail, led by a passion for justice. Donna Steiner's essay crosses between the physical, the emotional, and the political, each part connected as in a connect-the-dots game, the essay itself edgy in form. Steiner and Loren, like Judith Nichols, Theresa Carilli, and Mary Hussmann, push the form of non-fiction so that the essay itself verges on something new.

In all of these essays edges are toyed with, crossed over, explore in ways that are provocative, funny, serious. Many made my palms sweat and my heart race, just like the best of rock climbs. Just like the best of sex. Enjoy this celebration of our diversity of passions.

Susan Fox Rogers
Tucson, Arizona
January 1999