Hey folks! It’s an exciting day for me—today marks the launch of the website for my forthcoming book. Here’s a portion of what I posted over there; if it piques your interest, head on over to the site and check it out!
Welcome to the new website for my forthcoming memoir, (F)a(i)theist: How One Atheist Learned to Overcome the Religious-Secular Divide, and Why Atheists and the Religious Must Work Together (working title, Beacon Press 2012). This book, which chronicles my experiences as a former evangelical Christian, a queer person, an atheist and an interfaith activist, is not even completed yet—so why launch a website? Seems a bit premature, eh?
Maybe it is, but I believe in being open about the process of writing this book, and in sharing news about it as it becomes available. This website will be a place to find relevant information about the book and about my work. For more on the work that I’m doing, please feel free to connect with me via the social media listed in the sidebar, and check out my blog, NonProphet Status.
To kick things off, I’d like to share an excerpt from the book to celebrate the launch of this site, entitled “The Red Sea.” Please note that this is a work in progress, and that it may change significantly before the book is published (heck, it may not even make it into the book!). But here it is, for those who’d like a sneak preview of what’s to come.
Thank you for visiting, and I hope you’ll stick around for the rest of this journey. Most days, I can’t believe this dream of mine is actually happening—but it is, and I’m so grateful for everyone who is accompanying me as I realize it. This is, truly, a group effort.
With love and gratitude,
June 16th, 2011
The morning after my eighteenth birthday party, my first boyfriend—the one I fell in love with in an instant, who told me that God brought us together and made me believe it, who I cared about so deeply that four weeks into our relationship I dug out the certificate I had co-signed with God agreeing not to have sex before marriage from the bottom of my underwear drawer, scattering green and orange boxers across my camel carpet, and triumphantly tore it in two, the one for whom I only applied to in-state colleges, the one I was convinced I’d marry—broke up with me in a text message.