Anne’s Diary (Page 70)

Meeting so many of Whitley’s fans at the book signings for The Grays in Seattle, Portland and Los Angeles was a thrill. Many of you wore green and I know you did it in support of me and I thank you so much. The Green Man gets around–in Seattle we visited one of Whitley’s relatives who has just lost her husband. It was a late marriage, after many tragedies, for both of them, and he was a really great guy. I was able to bring her the Green Man message and I hope she took it to heart. Then, when we got home, I found out that the partner of a gay man we know, who was very sick, had just died, so I sent him the message as well.
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Lately I’ve been thinking about the conundrum that is revealed by the carnage we see nightly on the TV screen, how two rival factions of the same religion can be fighting each other–factions with a division that the rest of find baffling, especially in a religion that is actually one of the world’s most all-inclusive, since the Koran designates Muslims, Jews and Christians as “people of the book” who are equal under God.
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One of my all-time heroes is Episcopalian bishop John Shelby Spong. I get his newsletter every Wednesday and was amazed to see that, in his recent one, the position he takes about the existence of God parallels the stance that Whitley and I have decided we must take with regard to the reality of the visitors, a point of view that is reflected in Whitley’s new novel The Grays.
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Whitley has written about how he feels about his new novel The Grays. People Magazine calls it “a great read.” It is based not only on Whitley?s own experiences, but also on the experiences of so many other witnesses whose stories we have heard over the years. But for me it’s more than any of those things: it’s a love story.

It’s the love story of Whitley and me. We don’t actually remember being brought together as children by the visitors (whoever and whatever they are) the way Dan and Katelyn are in the book, but we’ve always felt that we were somehow destined to be a couple. Whitley has vivid memories of meeting me when we were children, and the meeting place he describes could well have been my own backyard!
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