What role has art and writing played in your life, and how do you see that as part of community building?
Reading other autobiographical narratives and seeing bits of my story played out in movies has given me an overwhelming feeling of camaraderie with my fellow human beings. Reading someone’s story, or seeing an adaptation of life on film helps me put my life into focus.  Listening to others and trying to see life through their eyes has changed the way I perceive the world.

1. What has being kicked out meant for you?

Being kicked out has meant finding my own feet in a world I’m still not sure of.  But it’s also shown me that I have a family that is completely not biological in anyway shape or form.  The meaning of family has altered and changed completely for me since being kicked out and I have learnt that we, as people, are often left to face the unknown by ourselves.  My trust in people in general has dwindled and it takes a lot more for me to let people in.  If your own biological family, the ones who are meant to stand by you no matter what, refuse to do just that, how are you expected to trust others?  I only let people in as far as they show me I can.  And for some that will never be beyond the surface.

I became familiar with Julie Anne Peter’s work very much by accident. I was preparing to move across the U.S. All my books were in boxes. An avid reader, I was going a little bit crazy without my favorite reading materials. A fellow book-lover and coworker took pity on me and lent me a new favorite of hers by Julie Ann Peters. I’m usually a nonfiction person, but I was desperate: with skepticism, I took her young adult novel and started reading.

Very quickly, I realized that Keeping You A Secret was a life-changing book, one that I wished very desperately had been around when I had been kicked out. As a teenager, I’d worn the spines off of the two teen lesbian romance novels I’d managed to purchase the summer before my senior year when I had been allowed to go to the bookstore alone.

Keeping You A Secret is an honest, raw chronicling of the experiences of fictional teenager Holland, who struggles with her sexuality. She negotiates a blooming love with her closest friend, finds queer community, and ultimately is forced to leave home when her mother discovers that she is a lesbian. Holland takes up residence in a transitional housing program for LGBTQ youth.

Julie Anne Peters graciously spoke with me about her experiences and the thought process behind this novel.

Delicate as a pearl housed in an oyster. Strong as the branches of a magnolia tree. Femme has come home to roost in my heart. 

Femmethology contributor Katie Livingston

Femme (n.) : A set of norms about femininity and the ways we transgress them.

Lately, I identify as a cherry chapstick femme, a drugstore makeup femme. 

Femmethology contributor Allison Wonderland

I define my femme identity as authentic, a definition that I expound on in my essay, “The Anonymity of Femmeininity.” My femme identity transcends dress and deportment.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
My myriad identities (alphabetically: “femme,” “goth,” “m2f tranny,” “writer”) intersect by definition because they’re part of me, and I don’t care if any of them empirically contradict. I’m far too selfish and willful to NOT do something just because it’s not what a femme or goth or tranny or writer is supposed to do. For example, I’ve been listening to a lot of Richard and Linda Thompson lately, and the fact they’re not goth means less than nothing to me. It’s just not something I care about.

What are some joys of being femme?
When there’s no subcultural pressure to have short hair and wear flannel, the sky’s the limit. And my legs looked damned good in fishnets, if I do say so myself.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Oy. I wrote a few thousand words about this for the anthology! I would say eco-femme and disabled femme are the big intersections/contradictions, and they are interrelated, themselves. I have multiple disabilities, one of which is severe MCS (multiple chemical sensitivity). This means that the stereotypical markers of “femme"-makeup, perfume, nylons (or any clothing that’s not organic cotton or wool), etc., are out of my reach. Because of MCS and my other disabilities, I also can’t wear heels (or walk); go to dances, parties, or any other gathering of femmes or butches outside my home; or basically take part in any of the social/communal or exterior trappings of what’s perceived as the femme role. 

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
The only contradiction I ever feel is that of being a boy and a girl.

Most of the time, though, it doesn’t feel like a contradiction at all.

What are some joys of being femme?
I am not femme, I’m boygirl. And for me, the joys of being boygirl are simply the joys of being alive.

...the sound of running water; the feeling of embodiment; the joy of food, of community, of sex, of love; feeling fear, anticipation, pain; transformation…

What are some joys of being femme?
The single biggest joy is that I finally know who I am-it’s easy, it’s comfortable, and it’s empowering. I love lingerie and makeup and old faded soft men’s jeans, and I celebrate the contradictions instead of trying to force myself into someone’s idea of feminine. I’m part of a community, a strong community with a strong sense of its history and its power, and that is amazing as well.

Representations of queers frequently position them as affluent and urban—two things I am not! Many queers grew up and/or still live outside the metropolis. Likewise, there is a disturbing trend broadly of erasing poor people in the media—from advertisements to entertainment, the overwhelming images and representations are of affluent people. I see this even more with regards queers. This obscures the obstacles poor and/or rural queers encounter such as homelessness, no access to health care/insurance, un/underemployment and the like—all of which are compounded by heterosexism ad homophobia. These representations make us look like our biggest concern is which florist to hire for our weddings, as opposed to how we’re going to eat today! I don’t feel like my history or identity as a sex abuse survivor contradicts my femme identity, but bleed onto each other. My sex abuse taints everything I do with real debilitating grief and anger, but my femme identity gives me a much-needed sense of fabulosity so that when I feel worthless and sad, it reminds me to keep my head up. Sexual abuse so often makes the victim feel powerless; my femme identity helps counter this by making me feel powerful.

I also have to say that one of the first things I’d say to someone when trying to define my femme identity is that for me, it has a lot to do with my interaction with partners, as well. For me, I often seek a protector/protected dynamic, which is not to say I’m a victim or a survivor of anything in particular. I like feeling safe, having my own personal body guard… someone who’ll give me a flower to see me smile… someone to curl into a ball next to.
I think it’s one of the nicest feelings in the world.

I wouldn’t say that’s girly, but it’s probably pretty femme-y.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I am FTM.

For many people that’s all I have to say, and therein lies the contradiction. There is certainly a pervasive mentality, as evolved as I like to think people are, that FTMs must be macho men, be straight, and have lipstick-and-high-heel wearing girlfriends. That’s all over the place, from inside and outside the trans community. It kind of amazes me, because I guess I take queerness for granted. I forget how non-queer the larger world actually is.

I didn’t discover femme as an identity until I was already out as trans and presenting as male. I was discovering the kind of man I was most comfortable being, and over time, little puzzle pieces fit into place and “femme” and “ftm” have managed to stick together, forming a clear picture on my coffee-table, so to speak, for quite a while. Sometimes things just click.

However, given that FTM is such an important identity for me, I do live as a man, and I’ve been on hormones and passing for a long time. Even though I’m out as trans, people just know me as a dude who used to be a girl. The femme part is not something people (at least non-queer people) are able to pick up. I mean it’s pretty particular really, and it doesn’t seem to mean a whole lot in hetero space. It gets lost. It frustrates me sometimes because I get left out of things because I’m a guy, things that I would like to be involved in as a femme. For example, the women I work with have “girls nights out” and they also meet weekly for a stitch-and-bitch that’s girls only. I’m not invited to those things.

I have always surrounded myself with women as friends. Usually, they are queer women, but queer or not, I definitely feel more comfortable on a peer level with women than I do with cisgender men, or even transmen a lot of the time (at least the transmen in the area where I live.)

But they don’t think of me that way, like a peer, because I look very male, even if they know I am not male. They think that because I chose to look this way, and I love to look this way, that I must want manly things (what’s a manly thing?) and that I must also want to be in men’s space. Can you see me in a bar or something watching football? I can’t! Give me a stitch-and-bitch any day (okay, I can’t really knit or anything, but still I’d rather be there!)

It’s like other people say I can’t have both things: looking like a man but being in women’s space. It’s like it’s not allowed, and I have to pick one or the other, and because I picked T, I’m not allowed in the girls club anymore. I wonder if they’d have invited me in female space if I didn’t pass. Maybe something about my voice and sideburns can’t let them see me any other way, and I wonder if they’d see me as male at all if I didn’t have them. It’s a sad, but true thing that people see what they see and interpret it how they do. The world does not think in trans: it’s men and women for a lot of people, which leaves me out.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I identify as bi and queer.  I often run into the stereotype in the LGBT community that bi women are all feminine (which isn’t true), so I match that stereotype.  However, a lot of people mistake me for straight, so you could say my feminine appearance is seen as contradicting my queerness. 

What are some joys of being femme?
Dressing up to go out.  Friendships with other femmes.  Being appreciated by butch women.  Turning heads.  Fucking with stereotypes.

What role does writing play in community-building for you?
I’ve connected online through my poetry with other queer women.  I’ve made some very important connections that way.  I’ve also connected with all types of other poets through poetry readings (straight/gay/bi/male/female/transgender).  These essays are my first published prose (besides legal articles), so I’m exciting to find out what role this writing will play.

How does it feel to be part of the Femmethologies?
Great!!  I feel really lucky to be able to tell my story and hear others’ stories.

What are some joys of being femme?
There are so many! For me, my identity definitely does include the inclusion of performance and this leo loves to perform! I love to dress up and embrace my exhibitionist side. I love thinking about femininity critically and mindfully in a way that incorporates my feminist, queer, anti-capitalist, anti-racist politics. I love to surprise people and challenge them when they find out I am queer and femme and smart (you’d be amazed how many people think that feminine = dumb.)

What are some joys of being femme?
The observational perspective of being occasionally invisible. I like to watch people. A ridiculous budget for make-up. Stilettos. Expanding people’s understanding of what being queer looks like. Playing dress-up. Fierceness. The unyielding strength of years of hard-fought battles. The gorgeous history. The feeling of finding someone who truly appreciates the trappings of being femme. Sexy lingerie. Making people turn their heads. Power.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
My femme identity wages a constant battle against the masculinity I have cultivated as a transgender man. This internal struggle elevates my social awareness, diversifies my emotions and complicates my existence. It is a complication that is both beautiful and intense, intertwined with a world that assumes you should employ only one gender paradigm, either masculine or feminine.

What are some joys of being femme?
I take pride in my connection to my femme nature. It is a joy to be a man who can honestly say he has walked in both worlds, between worlds and outside of the worldly gender dichotomies that have been imposed. It is a joy to know that I have come full circle in this process, ready to embrace my internal fierce femme nature in the face of the man I have grown to be. It is a joy to know that I exist in a realm filled with the lessons I have learned, the people who I have encountered and the experiences I have shared that exist beyond gender polarity. In this, I have become fully aware of myself, embracing the many elements of my gender variance, something that would not be possible without maintaining my internal femme nature.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I think that contradictions when you’re talking about the politics of identity come from a narrow and enforced frame of reference. All of my identities intersect and I try hard to think outside of theconventional context so that there is no contradiction. I’m not always successful, and when I let dominant society (or queer culture, for that matter) dictate what is acceptable for me as a femme, and therefore what contradicts my gender, I feel discouraged and ashamed. Growing up rural and low-income, I tend to have a different skill set than people raised in urban or suburban areas. I grew up in a community where women built houses, chopped wood, made beer, raised and slaughtered animals, and whatever else they had to take care of business. This did not make them masculine. I remember an enlightening conversation I had with a femme friend of mine who was living on a farm with her newborn son, doing work trade for room and board. She told me about friends in the city giving her shit for the type of work she did around the farm, saying she was really butching it up. 

I understand both femme and crip to be markers of conscious, critical engagement with difference.  Femme, as I live it, represents a proactive choice to perform, push, and challenge my feminine gender orientation. Femme is independent of sex, of “biology”, but rather allows me to explore my singular embodiment as a source of explicitly feminine beauty, sexuality, and strength.  Neither is femme equivalent to, nor merely qualifies, “woman” or “girl” identities; I have constructed and embraced my femme identity in defiance of such mainstream interpretations of femininity. It is an opportunity—maybe even a dare—to completely re-define femininity.

Similarly, my experiential knowledge of crip has gone beyond identification with my physical impairment, and, though I am most at home in dis/ability communities, beyond identification with dis/ability as a collective political identity or civil rights issue.  Crip is a recognition of my scarred and anomalous body as a potential site for social transgression, and for new culture-building: ART.  Free from mainstream social conventions, crip allows me to place my embodied experiences at the center of new concepts of beauty, power, and wholeness.  Both femme and crip are about self-determination\-and about solidarity with others who sought self-determination in opposition to oppressive normative forces. 

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
In my essay “Essence and Artifice”, I addressed a butch who refused to see my dis/abled femme identity. “In your head, these words contradict each other. I am femme: pretty and feminine. Milky flesh you’d like to swallow. Dis/ability means weakness, sexless passivity—ugly.” This is a perceived contradiction that I struggle against every day.

I value all facets of who I am, and respect that sometimes various parcels of ‘me’ will emerge with more strength or tenacity and also more often than others. I try to be patient, careful and aware of my self and also recognize that when I feel vibrant and femme, I also feel true and sexy.

What are some joys of being femme?
The clothes, the nails, the remarks I get from those who ‘get’ me. And those people don’t necessarily have to be queer. They understand my vintage sensibilities, my appeal as something that is appealing to them, alluring, really, and who cares if that is substantiated by rhetoric or acadamia? To me it doesn’t matter as long as it feels right.

What role does writing play in community-building for you?
A lot. When I wrote for dot Newsmagazine, I didn’t realize what a gap there was in a Femme literary presence. The constant flow of letters I received from other femmes, and writers, artists, activists, rebels, trans people, queers, and bisexual women, women who are straight and identified with my p.o.v., etc. proved there was a web forming and desiring to be there. It was great. Now, a lot of the community building and fundraising I do is via email and social networking sites, and also with my writing in other mediums, like anthologies and longer works. But, a lot of it started and culminated with Femme in the City.

“Library quality paperbacks at low cost, identical to factory made books, printed direct from digital files for the reader in minutes, serving a radically decentralized world-wide multilingual marketplace. In essence, an ATM for books.”

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I think more of “inhabiting” rather than “having” identities ... other identities I inhabit are queer, white, anti-racist, disabled, woman, auntie, writer, and teacher. I don’t experience contradictions between these identities except when I am in situations that thrust assumptions upon me ... for instance, that “woman” must mean something biologically deterministic or essential, neither of which I believe.

What are some joys of being femme?
Community, recognition, activism, food, laughter.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it
To the external world I am sure my dyke identity seems to be in contrast to my femme identity.  Indeed within queer community my femme identity is often read as not-lesbian rather than as a queer identity.  The inability for the binary gender system and the queer community to see sexual orientation and sex and gender as separate is always putting our identities at odds.  Perhaps through the Femmethology it will be possible for people to imagine broader definitions. I think it will be empowering for readers to imagine femme dykes with curves, fierce pink ruffles with razor blade edges, and femme in stark relief to androgynous obligations.

What are some joys of being femme?
The joy of being femme for me comes from the freedom to express a feminine identity without risking emasculation.  To highlight the femme identity also means to play it against a masculine backdrop or to parody the bits of stereotypes of women that do not quite fit what I see as femme.  To create a statement by being true to one’s self is always a joy. To do so from a place of privilege (race, class) also allows me to use that femme identity to call attention to the eixstence of femme identities that cross race, class, sexual orientation, and cultural boundaries.

For me, though, femme is:
Fishnets and 6” stilettos… and worn-out, dirty Chucks.
Perfecting a look with peacock-inspired eyeshadow.
Proudly walking my son to school in PJs, boots, and a stocking cap with no makeup on, not even to cover my blemishes.
Baking the perfect dark chocolate-bottomed pie wearing a sheer, red vintage apron.
Building an outfit around hot pink earrings, hot pink shoes, and the perfect sheer hot pink lip gloss.
Boldly occupying my space in the world and generously making room for others to occupy it with me.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I am femme, and I am whole, even in my contradictions. Others’ definitions of femme might collide with my identities, but not mine. I am Latina, I am mixed-race, I look white, I can’t nail down my socioeconomic class on the whole but can tell you what it is right now, I am queer as fuck, I am prone to wear cowboy boots, I shaved my head and wore a fancy dress, I love pasties, and I am dedicated to being the best, most whole, and most loving, caring and fancy femme self I can be.

What are some joys of being femme?
Oh, the joy of being femme! I’d have to say the highlight of being femme, to me, is pasties. (Not to imply that anyone who isn’t femme can’t rock the tit-tents, not in the slightest!) How fabulous are pasties?! Pasties with feathers! Pasties with glitter! Pasties with beads and maribou and flower petals! I think the only thing more joyous than pasties is wearing pasties to a big queer event. Pride! Folsom! A play party! Pasties were meant to wear out in public!

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I tend to be rather lazy when it comes to personal appearance. Plus, I’ve never given a hoot about fashion and tend to get most of my clothes from free bins, clearance racks or friends who’ve outgrown something. This tends to contradict the (really irritating) notion that femmes are all about appearance, that we all like fishnets and high heels. I like those things but, frankly, they’re a lot of work and therefore a rarity in my life and I don’t think that makes me any less femme (whatever that means). If anything, I’m the antidote to the myth that femmes don’t wear sweat pants and plaid shirts.

What are some joys of being femme?
There’s an element of trickery involved in being femme. Counter to mainstream notions that uberfemininity equals stupidity or frivolity, most femmes are fierce and fabulous, smart and outspoken. Because our culture still seems to operate on the tired wisdom that ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’ is what girls are supposed to be, it comes a real shock to people when they discover that femmes can be rowdy bad-ass angry dykes ready to tackle any political debate or take on a homophobe who has just been unkind to their date in the womens’ restroom. Passing is fun because it means you get to come out in situations when folks least expect it.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
These days, everything pretty much blends together.

What are some joys of being femme?
The joy is not so much about being femme, it is about having finally tuned in to who I truly am, to being at home in my body, with my sexuality, with my sense of humor. Finding my femme self meant/means finding my place in the world and my unique connection to the whole and the holy.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
My other identities take a left at the intersection or, if the intersection is closed, they take the detour. I’ve never driven a contradiction before—I’m assuming it’s a hybrid or a subcompact of some sort?

Just kidding. There’s no contradiction with my other identities. I never take my caped crusader mask off.

What are some joys of being femme?
Pink rifles. Bakelite grenades. Stove top shrapnel.

What role does writing play in community-building for you?
I love the fact that I can join a conversation-in-progress and find fire fights, love-ins, and sequelae to conversations. It’s great to find so many like minds out there, by virtue of just putting words out there. Of course, you have to watch out for the dislike minds.

Femme has provided me the sense of finally feeling good in this skin - aware, alive, welcome.  This powerful woman that I am in this small body.  One who is less interested in being made up than what makes one up, but who still gives a damn about make-up all the same. 

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I have made all of my identities a thing unto femme, or rather, a thing unto me.  I glory in the contradictions, the places where I rub against myself, and still, I fit.  I am mother, sister, lover, lesbian, work-a-holic, bitch, friend, femme.  I am not, however, beholden to any of them.

What are some joys of being femme?
The joy is singular.  Belonging. 

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Militant vegan/animal rights activist - I once wore a t-shirt that read ‘Militant Vegan Femme Lesbian’ to a lesbian performance night and the most common comment I got was ‘They don’t go together’.

What are some joys of being femme?
Swishing around being fabulous. Smashing stereotypes by being high-camp and glamorous some of the time, then donning sensible shoes and no make-up to take part in social justice actions. Or taking part in protests while being camp and glam.

We have been following Victor Julie Mukasa’s case for some time now and have donated 1% of our profits to Victor’s legal defense fund. We commend the members of the Ugandan High Court for siding with human rights as well as Victor Julie and Oyoo for staying the course through the many months leading up to the High Courts ruling.

How do you define your femme identity?
I like the way this question is phrased, because I define my femme identity, it doesn’t define me.

It’s an intrinsic part of who I am, and it manifests in many ways: How I like to play, dressing up with silk stockings and lipstick. It’s how I melt when my lover kisses my neck. It’s how I dance, fluid and curvy. It’s the way I naturally talk, walk, meet the world.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
I am a person, not a stereotype. I know myself as a tough femme, as a witty femme, a romantic femme, a sexual femme you can taste before you’ve touched her.

I can catch frogs and snakes, play with rats, get my hands dirty, and hurl myself in front of speeding cars to protect women and children. And I’m still femme.

I’ve found that I naturally shift a little depending on the woman I’m with, and on the situation. I have a spunky little butch inside that shows herself when I’m feeling protective. Probably comes from being a big sister, a mom, and from being reared by a dad who didn’t raise me “to be a girl.”

What are some joys of being femme?
Oh yum. The true joy of being femme is that it’s what I am.

When you are comfortable in your own skin you connect with the world in a very intimate way. There’s nothing keeping you from yourself, nothing keeping you from experiencing other people.

As a femme I am very open to who I love. I love butches. I love femmes. I’m excited by gender-blurring. I’m accepting of people in general: sizes, religions, races, appearances, beliefs… Sexuality can be a dance, and when two people enter that dance it can be intense and unpredictable. 

What are some joys of being femme?
For me the main joy about being a femme is feeling the most comfortable I have ever felt in my body. It’s also about having the freedom to be flamboyant, eccentric, and high maintenance and have those be attributes that are celebrated. There is joy for me in being part of a community of other femmes, solidarity unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I find immense joy and pride in the femme history that has come before me. 

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Identities don’t contradict each other, but assumptions about identities certainly do. “Femme cannot be...” is a constant litany that I hope this anthology will help to disavow.

What are some joys of being femme?
~Liberating desire
~Expanding definitions
~Integrating femininity, autonomy, and power
~Wearing stockings and garters
~Loving butches who love and appreciate femmes
~Having a community of other femmes

There are lipstick lesbians, and then there’s me. I identify as a chapstick bisexual, ha ha! I’m pretty low femme, on the scale of high to low; for example, I don’t wear heels or dresses or make-up. But I’m still definitely a femme. And I’m not one thing just because I’m not another. I’m not a femme by default, just because I’m not a butch. Femme is chosen, and it is both playful and willful. Like most things that we construct, crafting femme identity must be pleasurable and must be intentional—otherwise, why would anyone be femme?

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Ah, good question. That is pretty much the topic of my essay in Femmethology—so you’ll have to read it to see my answer.

What are some joys of being femme?
A femme always leaves ‘em guessing. A bisexual femme even more so. This is both the pleasure and danger in being a bi femme. Some people don’t like to guess; and some of us don’t like to be second-guessed, or doubted, or critiqued on the basis of our loyalty to queer community or lesbian community or women’s community.
But there is also joy/ power in the ambiguity, and in being the ambiguous one. Because then when people want to know who we are, where we stand, and how we define ourselves, they only have one source for answers: us.

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Ah, a good and potentially infinitely complex question… I hope I can make my answer “finite”, interesting and funny so as to keep your attention, fair reader: (a) I am not sure if I have a singular identity (femme) or otherwise but rather a self that is femme and many other things at once and (b) if “femme” is as fluid an identity as I hope and want it to be, it should be very hard to be contradicted by any other personal characteristic or identity. Also if one is to assume that no “identity” exists in isolation, I would have to say that all of my other “identities” intersect with my “femme-ness”, and those are too many to mention, and well,.... Look, I’m just your average queer, trans, femme, lesbian type. Simple, right?

How do other identities you have not only intersect with femme but also contradict it?
Being disabled confuses people’s notions of femme, because our culture has very strong ideas about stripping disabled people of their sexuality and gender identity. This makes me fight for these identities even harder, and that’s why I mostly write about illness and disability and, on the flip side, sex. However, being disabled has taught me about embracing vulnerability and the incredible strength in vulnerability.

Cole says he’s not even interested in becoming legally male.

It’s “a visibility thing,” Cole argues. “I pass really well, and I don’t like being completely invisible. It’s a small thing, that little F, and I want to keep it. Nobody ever notices it, anyway, but I always hope they will. I don’t want to disappear into maleness. It’s surprisingly easy to do. Sometimes I even forget myself, and that’s scary.”

Earlier this year, 7 Stages’ first production of Scott Turner Schofield’s one-man show Becoming a Man in 127 Easy Steps sold out two performances on Super Bowl Sunday. That impressive statistic begs the question, what kind of man puts on performance art during the Super Bowl, anyway?

Schofield’s show provides answers that are at once engaging and incomplete. “Becoming” a man may be more of a journey for Schofield than for most guys, as he happens to be an actor, writer and female-to-male transgender person (not necessarily in that order). Becoming a Man offers a playful, kaleidoscopic evening of Schofield’s observations, memories and even some physical acrobatics that correspond to Schofield’s balancing act as he transitions from one gender to the other.

You’ve probably heard about a “new” marketing discipline: word of mouth.

It’s actually the oldest marketing tactic of all, but some smart marketers are rediscovering its power — now supercharged by the Web — and bringing a strong theoretical framework to it.

The process is easy.