It Was Her New York is more than a memoir; it is an exploration of family dynamics and self-discovery in a city that influences all who reside in it. Why was this an important book for you to write?  

I and my sister were suddenly caring for a suddenly frail parent.  My life changed on a dime.  My plans to live abroad with my then-partner and the writing and documentary work that I was doing were all derailed.  The city I had always felt “normal” in became more and more unrecognizable.  At the same time, my parent, Florence was basically disappearing into dementia.  Yet in that chaos, Florence kept surprising me with expressions that were so her and my city kept reminding me that I was still home.  Those moments became a life-line to my well-being.  The documenting of a pretty tough process kept me connected and sane and working my storytelling muscles.  It also comforted me and offered me daily opportunities of giving gratitude-something that cannot be underestimated when going through challenges.  Simply put, it was my life raft.

What were some ideas that were important for you to share in this book?

HOME and LOVE and FAMILY are present in each and every person who is in HER NEW YORK: all the LGBTQ grandparents and parents who could never tell their families who they really loved; all our co-workers; all the people who keep our cities running; all the immigrants or refugees who come to NY and other cities seeking safety and a chance at a good life; all the caregivers – both relatives and home attendants – who go through their daily tasks in silence and invisibility.  We are surrounded by their stories and, in the case of Florence’s Ex-Lover, secrets.   I wonder often what the family of the Ex-Lover – the woman who loved Florence all her life – would think if they found out about their mother/grandmother/great-grandmother and her life-long heartbreak.  I wonder if she truly had to hide her heart.  I think if people who decry immigration would meet Mr. Godslove, they would be struck as I was by his kindness and goodness.  I wonder if people ever stop and give thanks for all the bus drivers, subway workers and delivery people in their city.  Yes, this book is specifically about New York City and a queer woman.  But it is about a lot more; our cities and homes and relatives and neighbors and all their stories.

I appreciated the candid nature with which you told your story. What was the hardest thing for you to write about?

I wondered if it was the piece I wrote on the evening of the morning Florence died.  But it wasn’t – that was an offering of gratitude (except for that one awful EMS person).  The hardest thing to write was THE AUTHOR’S NOTE: WHAT A DIFFERENCE THE YEARS MAKE.  It was there I had to splay out the regret I felt that last day with Florence and finally say goodbye to my past and the imperfect journey I took her to her final days. 

What is one thing you hope readers take away from your story?

There was a parade chant from the Pride March many years ago – “2, 4, 6, 8, how do you know your grandma/grandpa/any relative is straight”.  You don’t.  We slap words onto people that become their definition, rather than getting to know who they really are.  So what I hope this book does is welcome readers’ hearts to grow bigger, their curiosity to expand and their respect to deepen for the people they think they know, for the people they judge as “immoral” or “wrong” and for the people they have never met but fear. 

Author Links: GoodReads | Twitter | Facebook | Website