I honestly don’t understand

I just read a post by Ryan Field about a man of Asian descent getting crap for writing a novel about African American (I think, sorry it was this morning, and it’s stuck with me, but I could be wrong) in Mississippi and apparently a review site (more than one?) was going on about him not being able to write this because he isn’t black? white? from there?
I just don’t get what the problem is, but then again, I never have understood what the problem is, and it’s become something that’s starting to eat at my confidence.
Can I write about gay men without ever before seeing the shit that they cope?

 And I’m not talking about just the little things in life. those little catty snaps that are thrown their way without regard and cut fucking deep. I’m talking flat out abuse, if it’s not directed to me, or the person next to me, I just don’t see it.

 It’s gotten to a point that I think it’s of poor taste that I don’t. Why should I use this group of people to make money when I don’t even, on an outside level, understand what they go through, ‘cause I haven’t seen how bad, or constant it can get. (but then could I? being as I’m not a gay man, nor lesbian, or any of the other letter?)

 Hell, I read some blogs and they will throw out an off handed remark about something, it’s mean, you can tell that by how they are saying it. And clearly it’s something that happens all the time ‘cause they haven’t finished the thought, or explained it, like it’s a no brainer, and I sit there wondering what the hell it means.

 Fuck it. I was at a birthday party that my kid attended, and I met a couple and her introduction was ‘hi, I’m Sarah and this is Claire, were Zoe’s mums, isn’t it cool, she has two.’ And my first thought was, ‘how would I know, I don’t know you’ but clearly, like everything we say, it was more about the fact that she needed to have that information out there. Like maybe I’d have an objection or something.

Later, when I realised why she said that—‘cause of my need to see it, which obviously just doesn’t work ASAP for me—I felt…well, quite frankly I’m not sure how I felt, horrified that it had to be said? sad for her? Nah, I actually don’t think that’s it, maybe I felt this moment where a slow head shake I entered and you just can’t understand why it matters to the world. But in that same moment, you know and it saddens you that they had to. That they had to add on that part rather than stop with ‘where Zoe’s mums.’

 The worse this about it all is I can’t actually learn it. Hell, I’m sure that in my head I actually have it all. I’m good at abusing someone and making them think it’s for myself and annoyance, when I’m really sticking up for a young man—I have a little brother I use to hang with, and we all know, there nothing good about your big sister having to stand up for you. So I learnt to do it, more by taking the abuse off him and directing it at me. I’m actually great at arguing creatively too. I’m a writer, overly dramatic scenes has always come naturally, especially from my mouth. I can’t actually stand them as a whole. But finding ways to freak people out…

 Not the point, I’m sure in my head I see them, I’m actually quite good at reading people’s body language, it’s a side effect of not being good with words (at least mine) and I’m guessing always having this author person in me. but I’m very good at not seeing the obvious when it’s hitting me in the face—okay, I’m not actually bad, but I perfected ignorance in my teen years ‘cause it’s the only way to lie when one of your best friends is cheating on the other with her boyfriend, I just didn’t see it, I didn’t want to (for many reasons) and whenever he came over and it was just me and the first girl, I went home, ‘cause being with them would have made it impossible for me to ignore.

Also my ignorance makes flirting and fucking with then (getting free drinks) as an 18yr old a shit load of fun, ‘cause I saw it, and I used what I saw, and I didn’t see shit.

 It’s a reason (or another) I think I agreed to go out with Ben. You see it was a peer-presser date, and I was clearly that last clutch at straws. He’s gay, came out just after he broke up with me (if you never knew that) but the point on this one is that somewhere in me I must have known (when I look I actually have a really good gaydar, I think, really who knows, I don’t ask because I don’t particularly care one way or the other) because I was 16 with my first boyfriend, and I have loved everything about sex (I’ll address this in a later post) since yr 5, and I hadn’t had it by this stage—and I had no inclination to ever have sex with him.

And look, I’ve completely done off the main topic.

I really don’t understand why people are having trouble when it comes to him (?) writing a book. One minority in America writing about another—no, he wouldn’t no shit about what they’re going through?! Maybe a white chick should give it a go, especially having both her MC’s be African American, she’d know exactly how they lived, felt, and worshiped.
(Okay, that was a little mean, sorry)

There are two points I’d like to talk about here;

1st, is she would actually get glowing recommendation and reviews and the book could suck balls compared to the Asian man’s and he’s would probably be award winning.

2nd, can you see why I’m talking about this. I love writing about two men, and to be honest when I tried to write a hetro series, out of 7 books that I plotted out, only 3 of them involved mf couples (okay, 4 but the man in that relationship was going to be a cross dresser, I might explain later). Its just comes more naturally to me but that doesn’t mean I feel as if I deserve to do it. that I feel a if I should, but I also don’t feel as if I shouldn’t start up writing about pussy either—and even if I did, I could never go mainstream with it, too many of my characters wouldn’t fit the bill. Not unless I made them something there not, and how could I closet them, just to make money?

Now, I close out with an apology to anyone I offended, it would be great if you told me what I did wrong, ‘cause I honestly don’t know, and would like to understand. I’m like that, I don’t ever mean anything mean by what I say, but I know it may come out that way to you, and since you don’t know me, I should say sorry, if it occurred.

Till next time

Bronwyn