radfrac_archive_full

When I was last in Little Sister's, looking for pornographic comic books, my eye lit upon a large expensive hardcover book, which I stared at, snatched up, clutched to my chest, and bolted to the counter with, spending much too much money for a man with a Seattle habit.
It was James, Tiptree, Jr: The Double Life of Alice B. Sheldon, author Julie Phillips. I'm really happy the book exists, and a little bit sad because I kind of meant to write it myself.
I've been afraid to start it, the way you are when you really want something but you're afraid it's going to hurt you. So I brought it to be my ferry book. (We ended up watching South Park in the car on my brother's laptop on the second ferry, but never mind.)
Does anyone else fantasize about time-travelling back to early eighties science fiction conventions? It just seems like those are the people who would most enjoy your claiming to be from the future and trying to quiz you about it. I imagine conversations like:
"Oh, yeah? Who wins this year's World Series?" "I have no idea. I don't follow sports."
These fantasies often culminate in someone asking me, "Okay -- is James Tiptree, Jr., a man or a woman?" Whereupon a look of infinite sorrow and regret crosses my face. "I can't tell you that." I say. "You'll have to wait and find out."
I've always avoided calling Sheldon/Tiptree transgendered, even in my head; you're not trans just because you write under a pseudonym. But I really want to get a picture of what taking on that voice meant for this person. It seems important, almost urgent, to know, or at least decide on a version to believe in, since I can't ask her now.
I'll file a report. {rf}