by Courtney Clelland

Rushing the hordes of clamoring children out of the house to play, the grandmother, better known as "MaMa" to her grandchildren, almost always let one child remain inside, affording the child with a quiet sanctuary in which to do what she seemed to do best: read. A voracious reader, the girl would read whatever she could get her hands on. Perhaps noticing the child's potential, that same grandmother advised the young book-clutching woman "not to do things for fame or money, but do them for the respect of your peers," a piece of advice to which Lisa Moore has held steadfastly. She has recently earned widespread respect for her start-up publishing house for black lesbian literature, an original addition to the publishing world. Moore, now 35 and living in Austin, can still be found with nose in book; however, her voice has emerged in an effort to give other black lesbians a source of history and strength she believed was greatly lacking.

"Sure, I looked for black images in gay literature, but the lack of them didn't phase me much because I'd gone to white schools and all my friends were white. I was used to it. After moving to Atlanta, though, I found myself surrounded by beautiful black women; it altered my perception of reality. Black folks are the majority here. Suddenly, I longed for black images in gay literature," recalls Moore in the introduction to her anthology of black lesbian coming-out stories, Does Your Mama Know.

In Moore's own case, her mother was the first to know: "Actually, my mother realized I was a lesbian first and told my father, who told me. I had never heard the word before. My dad came to my high school to take me out to lunch. As we walked to Burger King, he said, 'Your mother seems to think you're a lesbian.' Cautious child that I was, I hedged. 'Nah, I don't think so,' I said, making a mental note to look the word up.

"Right after lunch I tore up the steps to the school library to look up the 'L' word. Hell, I wasn't going to let on to anybody that I didn't know the meaning of a word, not even my dad who I'm incredibly close to. Once I'd found out the definition, I felt like I'd known it all along.

"That first conversation with my dad was my first realization that I was gay."* Growing up in New Orleans, Moore lived with her mother and stepfather and their three daughters and her biological brother. Her mother had to work to help support the family, leaving Moore as surrogate mom to her sisters at the age of 12, about the same age she entered high school. An over-achieving student, Moore tested out of junior high. She missed out on the socialization process that happens there, only adding to her introversion and quiet nature.

It was perhaps her tumultuous childhood that cultivated in Moore patience and an ability to see things from others' perspectives. Author Sharon Bridgforth, a friend of Moore's, describes her as "moving slowly and wisely, always weighing things out."

Lylah Salahuddin, one of the sisters Moore helped to raise, remembers a patient and tolerant Moore. "Lisa has been a teacher of how to show honor and respect for people. She is one of the most thoughtful people I know."

Despite her irregular youth, Moore comments, "If I could change anything I probably wouldn't. I could say I'd change the way I grew up, but it's made me what I am today. Having to raise children, now I have a great respect for childhood because I didn't have one and now I know it is vital to have one."

"Our home life was not nurturing," says Salahuddin. "Lisa showed us that there were other experiences to be had. Lisa is a real light and inspiration. She taught me that you don't have to settle. Once you know there is something else, seek it out, create the world you want for yourself." She describes Moore as "methodical by nature, someone that plans and executes."

At age 16, Moore entered Louisiana State University, an aspiring future veterinarian. "I liked books and animals because you didn't have to be any one but yourself around them," reflects Moore. However, organic chemistry proved a formidable barrier. "I took it three times, D, D, F. After ruining my grade point I gave up on it and switched to accounting."

Upon graduation, Moore took a job in Connecticut, but an insatiable desire for knowledge landed her back in school seeking a degree in journalism. Of Moore's self-proclaimed status as an information junkie, her sister says, "Lisa likes being smart, the idea of being smart and finding things out just for the sake of finding them out." Sometimes, however, she feels Moore takes the authority she finds in research a little too seriously. "If she can't research it and find it in a book, she's skeptical, and can do it almost to a fault," Salahuddin hesitantly explains.

Moore admits herself that she can be a control freak. This perhaps contributes to Moore's description of self-employment as the best job she has ever had (if she could get it to pay the rent, that is). Red Bone Press books have paid for themselves, but Moore hopes for a day when the press will pay for her too.

Moore was first inspired to pursue a career in the literary world when she read a book called Home Girls, published by Barbara Smith of Kitchen Table Women of Color Press. An anthology of black feminist writings, it was Moore's first exposure to such a volume. Moore realized potential for a similar book for black lesbians, and the idea for Does Your Mama Know was born.

Within two years of calling for submissions for Does Your Mama Know, Moore had 49 stories, poems, essays, and letters from 41 authors. Released in April 1997, there are now 8,000 copies in circulation and it's gone to press three times. Not bad for the inaugural publication of a one-woman publishing house. Red Bone Press was actually a product of the Does Your Mama Know process. Moore began with the intent of self-publishing a single book, but no one seemed content to let her leave it at that.

"I think Lisa is creating history," says Bridgforth. "I'm not sure if people in Austin understand the national effect she's having. She's creating space for people who have been marginalized."

Does Your Mama Know, the first and only book of its kind, garnered two Lambda Literary Awards for best lesbian studies and best small press. However, it's the feedback from readers that Moore seems most thrilled by. "It's incredible to hear how needed the book was, how it's changed people's lives," says Moore. "A woman approached me at a conference and said, 'Thank you so much, you don't know how much I needed that book, to know there were other people out there like me.' It's that kind of feedback that keeps me going. People want to see themselves reflected in a book. I have grandmothers come up to me, women who are still married, women who are in the military calling me and saying, 'Girl, I just got your book, we need to talk.'"

Red Bone Press published its second book, the bulljean stories, by Sharon Bridgforth in October 1998. "Going with Red Bone was the smartest thing I could have done," she says of her choice of the small press, expressing her admiration for Moore's combination of business sense and understanding.

Moore is equally respectful of Bridgforth's work. "I was blown away," says Moore of her reaction to the bulljean stories. "I love bulljean's character and I thought a lot of other women would too. It's great to read out loud, and people love to be read to."

An audiotape edition of the bulljean stories was released in April. "Sharon's voice is incredible. Her daughter sings some of the songs from the night club scenes," says Moore. "It looks like poetry on the page. Sharon has done a lot of plays around this character. It's oral tradition and it's meant to be read out loud."

Red Bone Press was again honored in April at the Lambda Literary Awards, receiving the award for best lesbian and gay press for its publication of the bulljean stories. The bulljean stories also received an American Library Association Award nomination for lesbian fiction. Awards continue to add to Red Bone's notoriety, and to the flow of manuscripts jockeying for a place in Moore's mailbox.

Moore hopes to double the output of Red Bone, publishing two books within the next year. She excitedly discusses her future plans: "This past weekend I agreed to publish a book on black gays, lesbians, religion and spirituality that should be out by spring of 2000." Moore will be editing another book for that summer, a collection of interviews with straight parents, friends and relatives of gay people, a work in accordance with Red Bone's mission statement, "To produce quality works by black lesbians as well as facilitate discussion between black gays and straights."

Hesitant to give definite publication dates, Moore, currently a graduate student in the University of Texas Anthropology Department seeking a degree in African Diaspora Studies, fears that school might get in the way. "Balancing [graduate school and the publishing house] wouldn't be so hard if suddenly I weren't so popular," she says when asked about her sudden renown as a publisher. Popularity has brought with it invitations to many conferences, panels and readings she's been cutting class in order to attend. Seemingly shocked with her recent authority, she says, "I'm supposed to be speaking at Smith College next month and I'm like, how did you guys find out about me?" Maybe it's all those awards, or the promising reviews, or the nationwide book tours. Whatever the cause, it looks like the spotlight of well-deserved acknowledgement is landing on a quiet bookworm from New Orleans.

* Previously printed in Does Your Mama Know.