A woman has to search high and low to find any book that comes close to Wolverton's Insurgent Muse when looking for a truly feminist history of women and art in this country. Wolverton takes the feminist discourse course by blending in her own story with very honest critique and appraisal of the influence of Los Angeles' Women's Building on helping women bridge the gender gap in visual and performing art. True to the notion that "the personal is political" Wolverton recounts her own journey from the Midwest and her own journey on her way to becoming a self-realized artist and person. I think some of her points along the way are very important and do blend with feminist literary criticism, for example, that the developing woman and the developing artist are most often one and the same, that these two stories cannot be separated out from a woman's personality.

Though, it must be said of Insurgent Muse, the best thing about it is just that it is a damn good read. Historical and feminist criticism, many times, can be so dry and theoretical (on purpose, you think. Maybe academics think they get brownie highbrow points for that.) that many women are discouraged from reading it. Wolverton's book blends theory, personal history, historical anecdote into something that is insightful, informative, and enjoyable!

Terry Wolverton's Insurgent Muse is one of the most powerful, moving memoirs I have ever read. Once I started reading, I literally could not put the book down and stayed up way past my bedtime to finish it. Wolverton writes with insight, courage and humor about her own coming of age as an artist, her coming out as a lesbian, and her experiences with the Los Angeles Woman's Building, not only as an institution but as a vision of a creative, collaborative community of women. Anybody who is interested in the connections between art and politics, especially how artists get politicized and how political art gets made, should read this book. Though there's no happy ending to this story - in that the Woman's Building is no more - I found Insurgent Muse incredibly inspiring and an important reminder that art DOES matter and that sisterhood - however chimerical it sometimes seems - can indeed be powerful.

What a pleasure to read. Wolverton weaves through the book personal history and her experiences at the Los Angeles Woman's Building to bring art history and feminism in LA to life. Wolverton easily evokes engaging images with just a few strokes of the pen.

A collection of deep insight. The poetry in this book is riviting. Upon reading it I felt that I delved into the spirit of the author, felt the pain of her relationships and experienced life through her eyes--both the desire to love and be loved. Balanced with a good sense of humor, her poetry deals with issues that we as a culture do not openly express and that is why it is so valuable. After reading this book, I realized the power poetry has in the world, it changed me spiritually and now I savor the images and meditate on the insights. A must for raising one's consciousness!

With the exception of one or two, the stories in this book are amazing. The editors have put together an anthology by women of different generations, varied ethnicities and diverse backgrounds. From poor, southern white trash, to street-smart, black, NY dykes to a seemingly genteel British family, all bases are covered. Gwendolyn Bikis' "Cleo's Back" is inspired.

This collection of short stories explodes with energy, displaying an incredibly rich variety of style and voice and an astonishing range of characters. Loosely centered around lesbian relationships, psychologocial and sexual, and the broader theme of female sensuality and sexuality, each story proves illuminating and thought-provoking in its own way. Some stories contain unexpected surprises; others are heart-wrenching in their emotional authenticity. Although the editors have cast a wide net with respect to the multifaceted voices represented here, the unifying characteristic is the overall high quality of prose throughout. Simply stated, this book showcases some of the most interesting and well-written short fiction on the market. "Tokyo Trains" and "Cleo's Back" are two stories that stayed with me long after I put the book away, and the rich, luscious prose of Amelia de la Luz Montes is sweetly haunting. A pleasure to read, this book also challenges conventional attitudes about women's social and psychological experiences while celebrating highly individual ways of being female in the world.

I enjoyed the story of Djuna, Brynn and Vera, and I appreciated the fact that all three sides of the story were told. It's especially useful to present the poetry and novel of a character who can't speak for herself; this is very clever. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy the novel-within-the-novel, which was called Splinters. The second half of the book is really where it all comes together, and it was only then that I really came to care about the characters. Wolverton is clearly a talented and gifted writer, but I couldn't fathom a whole lot of sympathy for Brynn, the woman in a coma whom everyone is rallying around.

The best book I've ever read and believe me, I've read many. I can't help but am immensely impressed by the unusual writing style employed by the writer, Terry Wolverton. In fact, once you started reading the book, there's no turning back. The book is extremely well written with the emotions of each and every characters that follow after Bryn's (also known as Brenda) car accident, carefully and beautifully displayed. There are other characters like Bryn's mother, Vera, her lover, Djuna and her students and friends revolving around in the story. The most amazing thing about the story, which is not just like any of those involving a lover's and many loved ones' exaggerated display of emotional feelings and memories that always seem to follow after an accident and with a very predictable ending, is the way how the writer makes it a point to suck the readers' mind and soul into it. As you read page by page, you actually feel that at one moment, you're Bryn, and the next moment, you're either the hilarious but faithful friend, Emily or the distraught mother, and worst of all, the dishearten girlfriend, whom had been mercilessly 'erased' from Bryn's memory after she regained her consciousness... You feel the pain, the struggling of each characters' emotions of having been brought together once again because of the accident and makes you realised how in real life, we have missed so many chances of treasuring our loved ones until we start to lose them, or the chances of finally being able to realise how we have mistreated or have taken advantages of some people, how we can actually know a person more deeply if given the right chance to try...it can be between a mother and a daughter as in this case, or just anybody, like you and I, in many of our lives' circumstances and how we wished if it have been the other way, things might have been much better... After reading the book, I suddenly have this huge urge to cry over these missed chances and to start reading Anderson's fairy tale, 'The Snow Queen'. I did.

This book is fascinating exercise for the mind, as Terry Wolverton artfully explores the ways we build the stories of our lives and of those we love. The author invites us to construct our own view of her central character, Bryn, based on the tales and memories of those who gather around her in a crisis and, perhaps most remarkably, through Bryn's own novel. Wolverton raises stimulating questions that will stick with you after you finish reading, like the memory of a particularly engaging and satisfying conversation. Fans of Jeanette Winterson will likely be thrilled with Bailey's Beads!

This book made me ponder three issues about what is good fiction, what's a good (vs. bad) anthology of writing. I know, sounds dry-but it may help you decide whether you want to read this book. I'm "half-glad" I did, and here's why.

GENRE-BLENDING. (No, not "gender-blending"!) The editor feels that "personal essay" and "short story, fiction" are becoming fused, interblended, and so, indistinguishable. But this is simply incorrect-and saying so, harms both genres. An essay is (and remains) a personal-voiced informally-structured exploration-and-sharing. A story (traditionally) glimpses a dynamic created world, with plot (including events: action, suspense), complications-and-resolutions). And with characters (with conflicts-and-resolutions). And with setting (to be experienced). And all not told-to-us, but shown to us to see for ourselves. Oh, admittedly the "New Journalism" added fiction to news stories (as has the more recent "creative non-fiction"), for enrichment. Still, I miss the traditional dynamic story in many of this anthology's selections. However, YOU may enjoy the lyrical essay-plus-story-plus poem feel of many of them. So.

Traditionally-taught, tight stories I enjoyed were the semi-understated "The Cosmology of Bing," an appropriately-dismal tale of an alcoholic astronomer's denial of his sexuality. "Hunters and Gatherers" makes the ironic maximum out of a straight (but ?) husband-and-father inviting some gay and lesbian friends over for dinner. And especially "The Rose City" nails and impales Roland Dott, as sad a case of "attachment-disorder narcissism" you'd hope to find, cheating on lover after lover, forever looking for his "Hubby-Hub." (One of my three favorite gay short stories of all time, the others being Stanley Kaufmann's "Fulvous Yellow," and Patrick Hochtel's "Baseball in July.")

SUBJECT-MATTER. Should a story in a "gay" anthology include gay characters, plot, setting? I would think so. So, why the stories about stealing Mrs. Abraham Lincoln's teacups? About a Chinese mental-health patient at the center? About an Irish judge deciding against a pregnant schoolgirl's right to remain in the school? Any "gay" content here flew subliminally below my radar screen anyhow. And one about a young single mother's slowly going blind-but with only a token gay character?

EXCERPTS. Should an anthology contain only self-complete stories, or can it include excerpts from novels? Usually I feel "no excerpts please." But the two excerpts here, "Bing" plus the one about the two Jewish brothers, do seem to ride complete.

SO-if you like good short-story fiction, plus lyrical poetic-prose pieces, even meandering essay-voices, occasionally more magical-fantastic than realistic-enjoy this collection now!

The first anthology of gay short fiction that I read was probably Men on Men 1. Since then, Men on Men is up to number 8, Canada's Arsenal Pulp Press has produced numerous anthologies such as Queeries, Contra/Diction and Queer View Mirror, Best American Gay Fiction has appeared, and collections worldwide have been published showcasing short fiction from particular countries, ethnic or cultural identities, and more. What is it with gay men and short fiction? Is it our short attention spans? I know that's my problem. But I'm being facetious. My favourite short stories manage to be compact and powerful, sharp and precise, tell a whole novel in much less pages, and leave me wanting more.

A number of the stories in the Robert Drake and Terry Wolverton's "Circa 2000: gay fiction at the millennium" do that. Co-editors Drake and Wolverton have chosen an eclectic mix of short fiction with the purpose "to feature works by those writers we believe will be influential in the new millennium." My favourites happened to be by the more established writers in the collection. Frank Ronan's stunning "The Last Innocence of Simeon" has a fluid, confident voice that engages with the emotional intimacy with which we get to know the characters. David Leavitt's "The Term Paper Artist" plays with auto-biography and revelation in a perfectly crafted tale. Scott Heim's "Deep Green, Pale Purple" creates a beautiful lush, textured and vulnerable landscape. Other gems include "The Rose City" by David Ebershoff, the powerful and daring "Whose Song?" by Thomas Glave, the fine comic writing in Christian McLaughlin's "Get a Lifestyle" and Colm Toíbin's "The Heather Blazing."

As a reflection of gay culture or gay writing, a number of themes run through the twenty-one stories: the closet and unexplored sexuality of older gay men (Cooper, Cullin), memories of childhood and early adolescence (Heim, Lowenthal, Mann), a backdrop of HIV and AIDS (Currier, Mann, Newman). Another interesting thread were narrators who weren't gay men, or who weren't describing gay culture persay, but were reflecting an outsider's sensibility: stories by Bell, Newman, and Tóibin. An odd set of bookends, the first and last stories in the collection by Eitan Alexander and David Vernon start in familiar gay urban territory and then veer off wildly into another place. Read them to find out what happens.

All in all, Circa 2000 is a solid collection of quality prose. I found that the strongest work tended to show up the weaker stories, but it's all a matter of taste, and there is something tasty for everyone here. With new and more established writers represented, and some quirky and original choices, it's an interesting prediction of where gay literature is headed.