LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
CAMPTalk: The Global Influence of Letters |
by Bill Sievert |
I don't know which is faster and more far reaching, the Internet or the international gay grapevine. But put them together and there's a reason that, even after long days of working at a computer, many of us spend so much valuable down time staring at our monitors.
I never know who will respond to one of my articles that have been posted on line. It used to be that when I contributed a piece to a small-circulation publication like Letters from CAMP Rehoboth, I wouldn't expect much of a response, even when what I wrote was controversial. And I certainly wouldn't expect a column I penned for a local magazine in Delaware to draw letters from Iowa, Indiana and Australia. But I've come to realize that having a platform for expression in any publication today gives a writer remarkable access to countless readers all over the planet, if one's words are included on the publisher's Web site. And based on my experience as a contributor to, and editor of, quite a few publications in recent years, Letters from CAMP Rehoboth tends to bring in more responses than many larger circulation rags. Gay people in particular seem to like to read about us. The far-reaching influence of this magazine first came to my attention nearly three years ago, when John and I were temporarily living in a tiny 1950s-era trailer in Rehoboth. I had mentioned in a column about life on wheels a witty little play called Trailer Trash Tabloid that had caught our attention in Orlando, some 900 miles from Letters' southernmost distribution point. The playwright, searching for mentions of his show online, came across the article, contacted my email address, and next thing you know I was recruited to do publicity for the play's national tour. My most recent surprise about Letters' wide world of readership occurred just a few days ago when one of the women I wrote about in the last issue, an organizer of the Friends gay gatherings in Mount Dora, Florida, emailed me to tell me what a wonderful article it was. "What?" I replied. "I didn't even know it's out yet, and you've already read it?" "Friends in New Jersey let us know; they saw it at the beach," Glenna replied. "And they're sending copies." So much for being the only person with a copy of Letters in Mount Dora. And Glenna and Marsha got the issue before I did. Furthermore, they're linking their local e-mail list of several hundred people to the CAMP Rehoboth Website, so before long practically every gay person in Central Florida will be reading Letters. We're already discussing the idea of an exchange program between the two towns' gay/lesbian communities. Maybe we could become sister cities. (Or, maybe it's time to move again.) Anyway, there have been plenty of other examples of this little publication's impact. I received nearly a dozen responses to my anti-war epistle three issues ago from e-mail addresses from California to the Carolinas. I even got one from Rehoboth. (Thanks, Tom.) And all of them were supportive, which was refreshingthough, like any writer, it bothers me that I might invest too much effort in preaching to the already converted. Nonetheless, we all need to have our viewpoints validated from time to time (as well as our personal worth). And I'll simply have to work harder to get a regular column on the National Rifle Association's Website. The largest (and least expected) volume of e-mails any of my Letters columns has produced regards a trifling piece I wrote in January a year ago about overused language and a group at some university (I've almost forgotten) that bans trite and meaningless phrases. Somehow, someone somewhere in cyberspace linked my article and email address as a way to contact the list's creators. Seventeen months later, I'm still receiving correspondence with terms people would like to banish. Here are a few of my favorites: "How about 'poetic license'? Who issues these licenses?" "If somebody is polite does that mean he's couth?" "Let's ban the misuse of the word 'legal' as in, 'We'll have to send it to the legal department for an opinion.' You hear this phrase in large corporations where LAW departments exist. Aren't all departments legal?" (Response: In corporate America today, perhaps not.) "Please banish diversity." I believe the writer was referring to overuse of the word rather than the concept, though she didn't specify. Maybe she is with the National Rifle Association. The most recent term to find disfavor by one of my readers is "embedded journalist. It makes you people sound like a bunch of a sluts." (Response: Many of us do have our happiest hours between the sheets.) My emails also bring me frequent breaking news reports about Rehoboth. That's how I first heard of plans for the new AM dance club in the old AMES location. A reader who had seen my comments mourning the passing of the Renegade called my attention to the announcement on the Dennio Productions Website. Meanwhile, my old pal Mikey, who was one of the CAMPsafe "lifeguards" four years ago when I was director of the project, sends me instant critiques of the hotness or "notness" of the latest models. Then there are my friends in retail, who post frequent bulletins about the state of the local economy: "It's cold and rainy again. Business sucks." "I can't pay my bills, business is so bad." "It's still too wet but it was a record-breaking weekend." With so much to read from you fine folks, it's amazing I find any time to write or go to work at my "real" editing job. Now, here's a little test of Letters' ability to reach people anywhere. I haven't spoken lately to Lew Routh, the playwright I worked with a couple years ago. I know he's in New Orleans staging a new one-man drag comedy called "People Come and Go So Quickly Here." So, Lew, are you reading this from Louisiana? How's the show going? I'm sure I'll hear from him soon, and I'll keep you posted. As almost everyone seems to know, Bill Sievert can be reached at AllForTheCause@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 13, No.6, May 30, 2003 |