I'm an avid reader, really rather addicted to books (as my Amazon Visa can attest), but I've never read anything quite like this. I'm not even sure how to classify Mr. Doctorow's work, but no matter. Since "Themepunks" began I've gone back and read everything else he's ever had published here on Salon, and I've bought or wish-listed his novels. So this is just a simple thank you: to Salon, for opening my eyes to a genre of literature I never before would have read, and to Mr. Doctorow, for offering the kind of work that lifts me out of the present and allows me to to immerse myself in new and fascinating worlds. That is why I read, after all. :)

Salon, please bring us Book 2! You've made waking up on Mondays so much more worthwhile!

The topic of this piece was rather foreign to me (as I'm lesbian, have a severe physical disability/mobility impairments, and zero to no interest or ability when it comes to childbearing). Nevertheless, the underlying issue of the piece spoke deeply to me. This essay spoke to that point in life that everyone eventually encounters, where we realize that much of our previous ideas of who we were emanated from a place of low self-esteem, of desperately needing to meet high standards to win the approval/admiration of others because that's the only time we feel good about ourselves. This is especially true of highly intelligent Type A's, who often throw themselves (ourselves) into academics or the law or medicine or, in this case, mastery of sex, in order to "be the best," to get the positive feedback from external sources that they don't feel internally.

And then the day comes when that just doesn't work as a coping device anymore, for whatever reason. Some people, the less thoughtful among us, simply throw themselves into a new pursuit -- they change lanes, but they're still on the same road. But what the author did (and what I did, when my day came) was about healing, not sex: she became aware of the reasons she felt compelled to be the best, and she made a conscious decision to get off that path once and for all. The result is inspiring -- she has found her own voice and is no longer trying to meet standards that no longer suit her. She's learned to trust her intuition, to listen to her body, to speak her truth -- and I'd be willing to bet that this shift in the way of being in the world has affected much more than her sex life.

Some people resist such a difficult transition and prefer to live their lives with their heads in the sand; I'd guess that it's many of these that are posting such harsh criticism of this piece. Clearly it pushes people's buttons, which is what good writing should do. And I would submit that this piece is good not only because of its quirkiness and humor dealing with what seems to be a very painful and nearly universal topic, but also because it uses that experience to illuminate one that is truly universal: personal growth and acceptance, and the depth of character we achieve when we finally embrace our own power.

I just wanted to tip my hat to Salon for opening my eyes to the truly neat stuff on PBS. (Unfortunately my local station is doing fundraising right now, but Im really hoping they'll show this ep. of "Independent Lens" when regular programming returns -- it sounds like a great documentary.) When I was young, PBS was the only station my parents let me watch, which rather backfired when I discovered "The Simpsons" during a hospital stay and became hooked on commercial TV. But now, thanks to Salon's coverage, I find myself more nights than not tuning into PBS than to the reality and cop shows that glut the networks. So thanks for keeping my brain active, in a variety of media!

(Note to "Where are the dads" commenter: Just because a documentary filmmaker focuses on one aspect of a problem, they're not denying the existence or validity of other aspects! And just because that aspect happens to focus on women and girls doesn't mean that it should be only mentioned in Broadsheet! Troll.)