Latter-Gay Saints

This past weekend co-editors and authors, Gerald S. Argetsinger, Jeff Laver, and Johnny Townsend introduced their new anthology, Latter-Gay Saints, at the Sunstone Symposium. Featuring stories about characters who are both gay and LDS, it includes works of short fiction by all three editors, as well as Levi S. Peterson, John Bennion, Carol Lynn Pearson, and ME! (If I do say so myself.) Click here to order this great read.

Review of The Girls by Chanson on Main Street Plaza!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward
From: Donna Banta
Subject: If I do say so myself...

My novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward, got another great review, this time from the talented C.L. Hanson, author of ExMormon. Here's an excerpt:

What if your bishop is a petty tyrant who loves nothing so much as the power he has over other people’s lives. You can’t simply switch to another ward. So, well… Somebody has to off him. But who?

That’s the premise of Donna Banta’s delightfully entertaining and totally Mormon murder mystery The Girls from Fourth Ward.

As I’ve often said, I think the best art achieves universality by rendering with great fidelity a specific milieu. In this case, the story of people lashing out secretly against an authority whom they can’t confront openly could be set in almost any human society, yet the story is enriched by a number of Mormon-specific components . . .

Read the entire review by C.L. Hanson (aka Chanson) here on her popular blog, Main Street Plaza.

(Eat your hearts out Abbottsville Fourth!)

Coming Soon: Abbottsville Fourth Ward Exposed!

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward and the wonderful people who read my blog

From: Donna Banta

Subject: Another excerpt from my soon to be released novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward

Ever wonder why Bishop Loomis was mysteriously murdered? The shocking "true crime" story begins five years earlier.

Excerpt from The Girls From Fourth Ward:

The twelve-year-old swept the wedding gown into her arms. She caressed the white silk, then held the beaded bodice against her spare chest. Her friend appeared, already dressed in a plain square-necked ivory sheath. Another twelve-year-old stood half-zipped in a generic confection reminiscent of the plastic bride atop the wedding cake. The three struck a classic pose in front of the lavish salon mirror.

Sister Carrie Zimmerman captured their image with a click of her camera. Scarcely twenty and heavy with child, her new role as Beehive teacher taxed her strength. Nevertheless, “Sister Z,” as she was known, felt buoyed by this giddy event. The girls exuded the heady excitement of their new phase. Seventh grade, Beehive class, and a glimpse of the ultimate goal in the mirror before them. The Beehive’s bridal dress-up party at Souter’s Formal Wear was an annual tradition in the Abbottsville Fourth Ward.

Jill Spencer, in the square neck, zipped Betsy Miller’s dress, while Sarah Renfro swished her beaded gown to a dressing room.

“Look happy, Jill. It’s your wedding day,” said Sister Z.

Jill possessed an incredibly fresh smile, startling to those only acquainted with her dour composure. Betsy, on the other hand, could rarely be seen without a smile. Then there was brainy Sarah, shy like a new fawn, the last one into the fitting room. Sister Z wasn’t sure which was sweetest.

Three other Beehives joined them. Debbie Mitchell and Francie Lake were eighth-graders, anxious for their fourteenth birthdays and promotion into Mia Maid class. They feigned disinterest, without even a glance at their reflections. Then seventh-grader April Newsome, who was new in the ward, emerged in a whimsical combination of antique lace and flighty diaphanous layers. Sister Z was not surprised to see April in the most sophisticated dress on the rack, nor was she surprised by how well it suited her. Her family had just moved to Abbottsville from the big city of San Francisco.

“Can I wear it with garments?” April asked the mirror.

Sister Delores Souter, a plump, effervescent sort, chortled her reply. “Yes indeedy. I’ve selected only garment friendly dresses,” she said, referring to the sacred underclothes that the girls would wear upon marrying in the Mormon temple.

“I thought we had to wear long sleeves in the temple,” said April.

“You do,” said Sister Souter. “But the temple workers can give you sleeve extensions.”

Sarah stepped from behind the curtain with arms across her breasts. “This is ridiculous. I can’t fill out this top.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear,” Sister Souter said. “You’ll blossom in no time, and be bursting at the seams.”

The girls expressed polite amusement over this. But Sister Souter, who took great pleasure in her own wit, tittered all the way to the stockroom.

Sister Z continued to play paparazzi. They have so much ahead of them, she mused from behind her lens.

“Now for the veils!” Sister Souter trotted back into the room, her hands resembling colossal gauze mitts.

The room was a squall of white mesh. The first choice was never right. They each tried several. Eventually the lace settled, and the girls gathered before the mirror, adjusting their crowns.

“Sister Z,” said Betsy, “where did you meet Brother Z?”

“At Brigham Young University.”

“See,” said April. “The best marriages start there. It’s the gold standard.”

“My LaRue met her sweetheart at the BYU,” said Sister Souter. “And,” her tone turned triumphant, “that’s where I met Brother Souter.”

Sarah nodded. “The smartest boys from the best Mormon families go to BYU.”

“And then make loads of money,” Betsy added.

“BYU,” Jill said. “It’s a no-brainer.”

“Not a no-brainer,” said Francie. “It’s super hard to get in.”

“Why not go to Utah Valley State?” Debbie asked. “They accept everybody, and it’s right next to BYU.”

Sarah yanked up her oversized bodice until it nearly met her chin. “Culturally it’s miles away.”

“Utah Valley State is for losers. Do you want to spend your eternity with a loser?” said April.

Sister Z decided to take advantage of a teaching moment. “Girls, you don’t have to go to BYU. In fact, you don’t have to go to college at all. The man you marry doesn’t need to be smart or rich or from BYU. He only needs to be worthy to marry you in the temple.”

The Beehives nodded, visibly awed by the reference to the sacred temple ceremony.

Sister Zimmerman adopted the countenance of a solemn child. “Heavenly Father’s most righteous spirits are lingering in the pre-existence, waiting to be born into the one and only true church. They are to be your sons and daughters. If you do as the Lord asks, and magnify your calling as wife and mother, you will be exalted in the eternities to the highest level of the Celestial Kingdom. This is Heavenly Father’s plan for you and it begins tonight.”

The girls looked down and fingered their gowns.

Sister Z continued. “I know Joseph Smith was a prophet, who spoke directly with God. I know Gordon B. Hinckley is a living prophet who guides and directs our church today. And I know that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the one and only true church on the face of the earth. I leave these things with you, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

“Amen,” they repeated.

Sister Z brightened. “Change your clothes and we’ll go for ice cream.”

They flew like fairies to the dressing rooms. Sister Souter bustled behind to collect their gowns. But Sister Z could only sink into a chair and stare out the window. Across the street, girls worked at the barre in the Abbottsville Dance Studio. More young women practiced volleyball in the gym at Sally Ride Junior High. Some sipped milkshakes at the local Foster’s Freeze. Others were glued to TV or computer screens. For most girls in Abbottsville, the future was a mystery, a fuzzy picture that would sharpen with time. But for the girls in Fourth Ward, it was already all figured out. 

Coming Soon: The Girls From Fourth Ward

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward and the wonderful people who read this blog
From: Donna Banta
Subject: The Girls From Fourth Ward, a novel

Over the years on Ward Gossip I have reposted emails from Bishop Brent Loomis "whose shocking murder remains unsolved." Finally, the truth behind his mysterious devise will be revealed in my new novel, The Girls From Fourth Ward. It will be available as both a paperback and an ebook soon. Here is an excerpt:

     Bishop Loomis of the Abbottsville Fourth Ward relaxed behind the expansive mahogany desk in his church office. His volume of scripture was precisely aligned in the desk’s top left corner, telephone top center, pen and pencil cup top right. His appointment calendar lay square in the center of his fine leather desk pad, opened to today’s date.

In spite of his many obligations, the bishop felt at peace. Never in his life had he been so confident of his own opinion, secure in his relationships, and proud of his work in the Kingdom of God.

      In fact, his calm was so complete that when his office door opened, and he looked up to greet the familiar face, he did not even notice the gun that fired a bullet square into the center of the neatly pressed, starched white pocket that covered up his heart.   

More to come! 

Ward Gossip Enters Its Terrible Twos

To: The wonderful people who read my blog
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Ward Gossip turns two!

Two years ago I began publishing the e-mails from the Abbottsville Fourth Ward. Since then I have received 832 comments from readers. I have appreciated every one. Many of the comments have come from fellow bloggers in my excellent blogroll that I hope to expand in the coming year. Right now, I'd like to specifically boast about a few very talented bloggers to whom I am especially grateful:

My brilliant friend Jennifer who writes The Cognitive Dissenter and is my partner on White and Delightsome.
Ahab, who keeps a wary eye on the Religious Right at The Republic of Gilead.
Just Zena whose Random Fartings of a Gaseous Mind are actually a breath of fresh air.
Nance who takes time out from her musings on religion and politics at Mature Landscaping to read my juvenile blog.
Paul Sunstone who I wish would get back to posting on Cafe Philos.
Ditto to InsanaD at Kori-whore's Double D's.
Diane Tingen who casts a spotlight on Mormonism at Mormon Schism.
C.L. Hanson who writes Letters from a broad, and has linked Ward Gossip to her Sunday Outer Blogness column on MSP more times than I probably deserve. (I finally ordered her book ExMormon from Amazon and it arrived today!!)
Chino Blanco from MSP and LdC and Carla at Life as a Reader, who both nominated me for Brodie awards. A huge compliment, since I am big fans of them both.

The other deserving bloggers whom I accidentally left off the above list. Please reprimand me in the comment field!

Also in honor of this anniversary and as a tribute to how I've dwindled my free time for yet another year, I bring you the year in review:

I'm so confused!

We began in October when Boyd K. Packer's homophobic and borderline insane ramblings during the LDS General Conference provided me with the material for a post that ended up winning the prestigious Brodie Award. I can't thank him enough, or to paraphrase Trey Parker, "You did it Boyd, you got the Brodie!"

In November we met Elder Young for the first time!!!:))))

I also eulogized the great Leslie Nielson with a take on how Lt. Drebin's temple endowment session may have gone:

Lieutenant Drebin takes an unassuming seat some three rows back from the altar. The officiator dims the lights and begins the film. Only instead of God creating the universe, we get The Three Stooges bonking each other on the head. Drebin leaps from his seat, rushes up the aisle, knocks over the officiator, and begins fooling with the knobs behind the altar. The lights flicker on and off, the curtains go up and down, and The Three Stooges keep bonking each other. Then the altar explodes and sends Drebin flying through the veil and into the Celestial Room where he dangles from the crystal chandelier. The chandelier crashes down, the player piano blares from the speakers, and Drebin careens through the temple on a madcap romp that ends when he knocks the temple matron into the baptismal font, just after accidentally ripping off her dress.

In December President Knightly announced the reinstatement of the Stake Single Adult Program!**
**Pending the completion of the following requirements:

• Obtain a temple recommend or complete the Official Worthiness Questionnaire
• Fulfill your usual assignment at the Stake Family Christmas Party. That is, set up, serve dinner, man the nursery, and clean up afterwards.
• Attend tithing settlement. (Remember to bring your tax return!)
• Resolve to be married by the end of 2011.

January's highlight was the release of another inspiring "And I'm a Mormon" ad featuring Julia who proudly boasted:

I'm a toy coordinator, a librarian, a craftswoman, a gourmet chef, a mentor, and a toilet scrubber.

My name is Julia Vincent.

And I work at Walmart.   

And I'm a Mormon.

Then February rolled around and we met Brother Bull Barton, the Ward Preparedness Specialist, who raised the Ward Threat Level to Orange and urged the members to have the following on hand:

Hazmat suits -- 2 per family member

Hand guns -- 2 per family member

Ammunition -- you can never have enough

Duct tape -- 4 rolls per family member

Consecrated oil -- 1 gallon per family member

Scriptures, The Ensign, dominoes, Yahtzee, Twister, and other amusements to help pass time in the bunker.

In March, an alarming incident occurred inside the Abbottsville temple when Brother Wilbur Simmons accidentally hit the fast forward button on the temple video and spun the room into chaos.

Only the best of feelings should exist
within the prayer circle.

"The prayer circle got nasty," said Sister Lee Ann Hargen of the Abbottsville First Ward. "There was a lot of rough and tumble Patriarchal Gripping. Also, some obscene gesturing with the Sign of the Nail."

Also, I paid tribute to my wonderful husband on his birthday, with a retrospective on his life before and after he left the LDS Church.

Then in April I discovered that The Book of Mormon is true! That is, when I finally got to see the real thing on Broadway -- thanks to our amazing friend, Olivia, who got us tickets, and David, who got us reservations at some of Manhattan's finest eateries!


In May I reviewed the film version of God's other favorite musical, Saturday's Warrior. Here is an excerpt:

"He's Just a Friend/Dear John," (is) a peppy number that alternates between a G-Rated bump and grind featuring Julie and her sisters, and a chorus line of male missionaries who perform an awkward routine that makes them look like dogs relieving themselves along a row of hydrants. (Forget the feminists and gays, the ones the Brethren should really go after are the choreographers.)

In front of Jane Austen's
brother's house in Chelsea

At the beginning of June the Abbottsville Fourth Ward's email temporarily went into spam while I visited Emily in London. 

Later that month, I again eulogized another great actor, Peter Falk. This time, I imagined how Columbo might have investigated a murder involving the LDS Church Authorities:


Columbo: Say President (Monson), you don't happen to have a light, do you?
President: We don't smoke, Lieutenant.
Columbo: Oh I'm sorry, sir, I had no idea. How rude of me. . . . Now, my wife, she would've known that, see, because she has some nice Mormon friends in Vegas. She meets up with them whenever she goes there to gamble.


July turned out to be a very busy month because Jennifer (The Cognitive Dissenter) and I debuted our new blog, White and Delightsome.
Also, President Knightly listed several reasons why people just can't leave the Mormons alone. Among them:

They're bored.

When's the last time you met a non-member who actually had a life? While we're going to church, doing our home teaching and visiting teaching, cleaning the ward toilets, and otherwise standing for righteousness, they're spending their time watching porn and chugging malt liquor.When the liquor finally runs out, they've no other option than to pick on the poor defenseless Mormons who've never done a thing to them.


Finally, in August, Mark Crawford gave his martini-infused take on The Fourteen Fundamentals for Following the Prophet. For example:

1. The prophet is the only man who speaks for the Lord in everything. -- The prophet speaks for everyone, including God.

2. The living prophet is more vital to us than the standard works. -- If you listen to the prophet you shouldn't read the Bible, or anything else for that matter.

3. The living prophet is more important to us than a dead prophet. -- With the exception of the dead prophet who compiled this list.

4. The prophet will never lead the church astray. -- Four martinis a piece, and we still couldn't come up with a way to improve on that one.

And here we are in September 2011 -- two years and 116 posts since Ward Gossip began -- and the Abbottsville Fourth still hasn't taken me off of its email list. Tell me, dear readers, is there a particular ward member you would like to hear more from? Or a topic you might like to explore? While I don't pretend to have any clout with my former priesthood leaders, I could send them a suggestion or two. -- Anything for my wonderful readers.

And Ashleigh Makes Three

To: Abbottsville Fourth Ward Relief Society
From: Donna Banta
Subject: Check out Ashleigh

Meet Ashleigh, a girl who definitely knows how to have too much fun. She is the creation of the another of White and Delightsome's insanely talented authors, "Undis-clothed."