Looking for Definition Beyond Sexuality : Publishing: They don’t want to be labeled as the authors of ‘gay books.’ These writers say they’re writing for a wider, more mainstream audience.

“I am absolutely sick to death of being called the gay editor of the New Republic,” says Andrew Sullivan, who is the gay editor of the New Republic.

His wishes to the contrary, Sullivan’s sexuality is hard to ignore, considering not only the magazine’s conservative reputation but also Sullivan’s Catholicism. And with the publication of his new book, the 32-year-old Oxford graduate / Harvard Ph.D. probably won’t find the adjective “gay” used any less frequently.

“Virtually Normal: An Argument About Homosexuality” (Knopf) is Sullivan’s erudite, systematic analysis--and, in most cases, repudiation--of every traditional view of homosexuality. Sullivan firmly states he is not writing “gay nonfiction,” but rather a nonfiction book about homosexuality. “You wouldn’t say [something] is a black book or a female book--you wouldn’t dream of it. And we made sure not to marginalize [the book] in any way, even down to the design. There is not, repeat not, a naked boy on the cover.”

Likewise, there is absolutely not a naked boy on the cover of “Prayers for Bobby: A Mother’s Coming to Terms With the Suicide of Her Gay Son” (Harper San Francisco, 1995), by Leroy Aarons, a serious look at the transformation of a fundamentalist Christian mother into a gay rights activist.

Nor is there one on “Out in All Directions: The Almanac of Gay and Lesbian America” (Warner Books, 1995), by Sherry Thomas, Lynn Witt and Eric Marcus, a lighter-hearted compendium of homosexual culture.

All these authors are looking for a wider, more “mainstream” audience rather than writing specifically for gay and lesbian readers. Sullivan says, “I wrote [‘Virtually Normal’] for the general reader in the possibly naive belief that such a person still exists.”

Sullivan’s and Aarons’ books share themes, as each in its own way takes on the views of religious organizations and--either intellectually or, in the case of “Bobby,” heartbreakingly--reject them.

“Virtually Normal” is divided into four sections delineating traditional views of homosexuality, book-ended by the author’s own experiences coming of age in England. Sullivan’s strategy, befitting a member of the Oxford debate team, was to “lay all the arguments out on the table as fairly and as honestly as I could, and to try to get the reader to leave aside their own passion and prejudices and follow the arguments.”

Sullivan, who during a phone interview fits at least one stereotype--clever, witty, charming Englishman--says these sorts of arguments are what his magazine is about, and that he had the approval of the owner, Martin Peretz. He also denies the publication is truly conservative, and describes his own political stance as “post-ideological.”

The Catholic question is trickier and is clearly the most personal of the arguments. In a chapter called “The Prohibitionists,” Sullivan skillfully and respectfully dismantles traditional religious arguments against homosexuality. Along the way, he makes a strong case for one of his own pet causes, legalization of marriage for homosexuals.

For his own part, Sullivan has no problems reconciling his religion and his sexuality.

“I can be openly gay because I am a Catholic,” he says. “Because of the Church’s fundamental values of honesty, the primacy of love and the dignity of the human condition. Why the issues of sexuality are so central to the exercise of faith befuddles me. The issues of life and death in the middle of an epidemic are far more profound than non-procreative sexuality and its moral status. The founder of Christianity didn’t mention homosexuality once, as far as we know.

“I don’t think the Church is there to please or comfort me--sometimes it’s there to discomfort me. But life without the sacraments and life without the Mass and life without faith, especially now in the midst of this hideous plague, would be unbearable. It’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

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Sullivan’s religious arguments echo a theme in Aarons’ book.

“Andrew points out that the religious world essentially says they will accept you if you go against your nature and agree to be miserable,” says Aarons, former executive editor of the Oakland Tribune, now head of the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Assn. He was looking for subject matter for a book when his spouse, Josh, reminded him of a local story that all too clearly shows the tragedy such a view can bring about.

Bobby Griffith was a happy Northern California teen-ager who often flew in his dreams. Until he discovered he was gay, and then in his dreams he began crashing into telephone poles. Bobby’s mother, Mary, and his siblings were devout Christians, and when he told them about his sexuality, rather than disown him, they did something arguably worse. Under the guise of motherly concern and love, Mary besieged her son continuously, trying to “convert” him, genuinely hoping to save him from the pits of hell. When Bobby got increasingly quiet and depressed, Mary took that as a sign that God was finally about to save him.

But instead, in 1983, at age 20, Bobby jumped from a freeway overpass. He left behind a diary detailing the anguish of his last few years. Mary Griffith read it and started on a profound journey that ended with her entirely rejecting the religion that she now believes led her to hound her son to death. Mary has since become a driving force in P-FLAG, the association for the parents and friends of gays and lesbians.

“It was a story that resonated for me for a lot of reasons,” Aarons says, citing the two decades he spent after adolescence denying his homosexuality. “Bobby was definitely loved--his family did not kick him out, but they were obsessed with making him different, and not accepting him the way he was. It taught me that love is not enough. And I like the idea of victory coming out of tragedy.”

By the end of “Prayers for Bobby,” Griffith has found that though she can’t go back and save her own son, she can help other parents not make the same mistake. And sometimes, she serves as substitute mother for gays and lesbians whose parents won’t hear the message. Aarons’ editor, Kevin Bentley, notes that gay teens are badly in need of role models.

“There were a few for me,” says Bentley, recalling his own teen years, “and all I could do was sit in the living room and squirm, while watching Truman [Capote] on ‘The Tonight Show’ as my dad would say, ‘He should be taken out and shot’ and thinking, that’s what it’s going to be like for me.”

Aarons’ hope for “Prayers for Bobby” is that it will become a staple in school libraries. With the suicide rate among teen-age homosexuals reaching alarming heights, good resources and aid are badly needed.

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The need for a source of information was part of the idea behind “Out in All Directions.” Editor Sherry Thomas was approached by a friend at Warner Books, who had an idea for a “People’s Almanac” for the ‘90s--one for a gay audience. Thomas was too busy to take on such a project alone, and brought in her girlfriend Lynn Witt. They were joined by Eric Marcus, who as the co-author of the autobiography of Olympian Greg Louganis and the author of “The Couple’s Book” (about gay relationships), has had experience with both crossover books and those aimed more directly at a gay market.

“Out in All Directions” was intended as a resource tool for homosexuals, but also as a way to educate straight readers so “we can stop being the last hated minority,” says Thomas. To this end, the first chapter is called “We Are Everywhere.” Arguably, the straight reader looking for titillation will be drawn by the lists identifying familiar figures from all areas as gay. But it also makes the point, as Witt says, that homosexuals are “poor, rich, Jews, Christians--we cross every line.”

The book covers everything from juicy tidbits (the author of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” was gay and wrote the song for his lover) to politics, business resources and gay and lesbian cruise companies.

“I hope we made it informative without being preachy,” says Witt, while Marcus adds, “The challenge is speaking in a wider voice, so that gay and lesbian people feel it’s by them for them, but straights don’t feel put off by language they don’t understand.”

But how successful will these books be at crossing over? Hopes are high, but also have to be realistic.

“When this big boom in mainstream gay publishing happened,” says Bentley, “the big fantasy was publishing books that would appeal to more than a gay market. I don’t know that that has happened much yet.” Indeed, the only books that seem to have truly achieved crossover success and become bestsellers are those by Randy Shilts (“And the Band Played On”) and the Louganis book.

Sullivan’s publisher, Knopf (which reportedly paid Sullivan an advance of as much as $600,000) felt that his reputation was stronger and wider than the gay market.

“Virtually Normal” was widely reviewed in mainstream publications after its August release. It is selling tremendously well at A Different Light, L.A.’s leading gay and lesbian bookstore, says book buyer Mark Simon. At Dutton’s books in Brentwood, the pace is slower by comparison, but owner Doug Dutton says it is absolutely “a strong selling book that we’ve reordered a couple times.”

The ultimate goal of crossover, aside from sales, is that the books will encourage new looks at different aspects of homosexuality--but the authors aren’t counting on straight browsers to pick it up.

Marcus believes the Almanac is an “ideal book for gays and lesbians to give to their family and friends--we can’t expect them to go and educate themselves, we have to help them do that.” Many copies of “Prayers for Bobby,” Simon believes, are bought by gay children for their parents.

But no matter how thoughtfully articulated, emotionally delivered or carefully researched these three books are, the written word can only go so far.

“There is a chunk of society who doesn’t like gay people, doesn’t know about them and wishes they would go away,” says Marcus. “They can’t be reached. And I won’t waste an ounce of energy trying to reach them. I want them to stay out of my hair and not make trouble for me.”

Lynn Witt believes the best attitude may have been voiced by her elderly uncle, in response to the Almanac:

“I’m never going to be gay, but I really like this book.”