I’m a third of the way through your novel and liking it a lot. You’ve painted some very vivid description of friends and family. You’ve stirred up memories of people and experiences long suppressed or forgotten in my own life. Thank you.

Note: http://www.stonewall-library.org The Stonewall circulating library holdings now number over 18,000 books and audio-visual materials and information about the entire collection has been computerized and is available on a relational, searchable database. New titles are added every week and are available in the “New Arrivals” section of the Library. We also offer over 60 national and regional periodicals in our John Graves Reading Room.

I just finished reading your book. Mississipi Sissy has just become one of my favourite books. I wish I was back in high school and I could write a paper on this book. I first took note of you through OUT magazine when they had an adrticle on you and also reviewed your book. I was so taken by your honesty and the experience of growing up in the South. I was in South Africa when I read about you, I had a subscription to OUT. When I arrived in America which was a month ago the first thing I did was but Mississipi Sissy. What an amzing book.

Your book is so inspiring, I want to to write. It’s amazing how books can bring the life of another so close to your heart. I love that sissy boy in this book, with tears in my eyes I could just about see myself in those pages.

Your courage is something that some of us hope one day will have. The cover photo of your book captures the book so AMAZINGLY! My favourite parts in the book is when your mother says “he is my sissy” and also when she tells you about the strenght of the word S-I-S-S-Y.

I wasn’t alive even alive at the time you were growing up. I am not even American, but I could so relate to your story. I can only image what you felt when everything was happening at once: the civil rights, your sexuality, your parents, your new living situation, religion. and thos are the ones you mentioned. Powerful! I’m inspired! Keep up the amazing work.

Where you go and whatever you do know that someone deeply appreciates your work. I want my mom to read it!

I just read your interview in Millsaps Alumni mag. I was thumbing through when a familiar photo caught my eye. I remember seeing your portrait as Robert Browning hanging in the display case in front of the theatre at the CC on more than one occasion. Then, of course, I’m sure Lance showed it to me at least 20 times while I soaked up the history and color from the master either in his office while skipping chemistry classes or while sipping tea at his cottage some night. One look at the picture and I had to read the article knowing that it was about a fellow Player and that it would bring back more memories of, as you put it, “some of the most enjoyable days and nights of my life,” working WITH Lance Goss. I owe so much to him in many ways.

We have another shared experience you mentioned in your interview. One day while sitting with my frat brothers in the cafeteria and being two years removed from Soph Lit, I heard this deep voice behind me calling me out,”Hopkins, what are you going to do with your life after this year?” I turned to see a hawkeyed Dr. Hise looming behind me and waiting for a response. He had actually retired the year before but was studying for his bar exam in the Stacks that day I found out later. To his query, I replied with what I supposed would be an impressive answer, “Well, I’m either going to med school or acting school. I don’t know which one.” With disdain, he turned his head quickly away and without so much as a backward glance, he gave me a parting shot, which left me in a profound state of shock and comtemplation, “Wasting your life! You’re a writer.” This was loud enough, especially with his deep voice, to reach at least half of the bustling cafeteria, and most heads turned to me. Then, to him. He just kept walking. I never saw his face again … ever. And, then, back to me. All I could do was shrug it off with a chuckle and a look like the old man is crazy. In my soul a chord struck that told me, in a small voice that I quickly squashed, that I was the one who was crazy.

After an up-and-down life as actor in London and Los Angeles, I have finally started to write and won some festival awards for a short I wrote a couple years ago. I often think of that moment. I imagine that Dr. Hise is smiling somewhere … for both of us, as is our special mentor and friend Lance.

Kevin, congratulations on all of your outer and inner success. I quickly read some of your musings and find them as colorful, intelligent and razor-sharp as I would expect from a Mississippi writer from Millsaps and the CC stage. Can you still close your eyes and smell the proscenium there?

A friend whom you haven’t met yet,

Gerald