I was on blogtalk radio today with Coaches Jim and Marsha talking about prostate cancer and “Benediction” (It’s the 7 pm segment):
Together Again, March 19 2012 show
I was on blogtalk radio today with Coaches Jim and Marsha talking about prostate cancer and “Benediction” (It’s the 7 pm segment):
Together Again, March 19 2012 show
Hank Henderson gave us three wildly engaging writers last night in his monthly Homo-Centric event at Stories Books in Echo Park.
First up was my good friend Wayne Hoffman from New York, who is on a book tour with his latest book, “Sweet Like Sugar.” Wayne read two selections, one, a flashback to gay teen unease, and the other, a college hook-up narrative taking place in Miami. Both were from the lead character, Benji’s, point of view. I haven’t read the book yet but am already in love with Benji! Wayne’s also reading tonight (Friday, October 21) at 7 pm at Q Trading in Palm Springs, and tomorrow night (Saturday, October 22) he will be back in L.A. on the west side at the Barnes and Noble at Westside Pavilion (Pico and Westwood) at 7 pm.
David LeBarron read a delightful, hilarious, and also quite gay children’s story about two women, Ginger and Mary Ann, who struggle to get permission to marry. Rest assured fans of “Gilligan’s Island” will like this one. David hosts a monthly “series for smart adults and savvy kids,” Apt 3F, on the 3rd Friday of every month (that’s tonight, kids) at world-famous Akbar, 8 p.m. (It’s a bar, so kids in this sense means those over 21)
Third was Eriq Moreno, who made his reading debut at Homo-Centric! He read a short story of the day-in-the-life of a resident of L.A.’s skid row. Congratulations, Eriq, I know we’re going to be hearing much more from you.
Thanks again to Hank Henderson who fiercely holds space for Queer Words every month in L.A. It’s amazing what he’s created in a little over a year and a half!
Yesterday (Sunday, October 2 2011) was the West Hollywood Book Fair, concurrent with the grand opening of the new (beauteous!) library in West Hollywood Park.
Like last year, I was invited to read something at the Homo-Centric tent (thank you Hank Henderson) and was delighted to do so. Also like last year, what I read was from my novel-in-progress, but the same novel-in- progress as a year ago!
It’s called The Forest Dark, from the Dante quotation pertaining to midlife, about losing our way, about not knowing which way to turn in the dark wood. Apparently, I’m not knowing which way to turn in my dark home office, either, as the damn thing isn’t done.
To my credit, I will say it’s way more done than last year. So there’s been progress. I wish I was a faster writer. Maybe someday. I still contend that the internet has given me a shorter attention span and I have to use helpers like Freedom and Leechblock to get through any quality time on creative writing.
For your enjoyment and perusal, here is the extract of what I read from Forest Dark, as well as some pictures of me and other morning readers (sorry all the rest of you Homo-Centrics, I had to leave early, though I’ve seen plenty of afternoon pix on Facebook):
The Novel’s called The Forest Dark. It’s about the relationship of a gay man, Noah, and his straight female friend, Eden, over the course of about 25 years.
At this point in the story they’ve been separated for most of that time — but Eden’s recently returned to LA for a job and they’ve reconnected in their 50s. This piece comes right after Noah takes a new job as a caretaker at Precious Blood, which is a Catholic retreat house owned by some nuns. Eden’s excited about an upcoming reality show taping, and she’s on the phone with him. The selection is told from Noah’s point of view:
START:
Eden had called twice before but he’d ignored her and only picked up on the third try. It was the stress level, he thought, already high from that first presentation group at Precious Blood.
Which went surprisingly well. It had to, as there was no way Noah could afford to lose this job.
“How did it go – your first day, right?” she asked.
He wondered if she was mocking him.
“No bad, not bad,” he said. “They gave me this gray shirt and pants to wear – like in prison.”
She was quiet. He read her quickly: Noah Baldock had shown so much potential, so much ambition when he was younger. This latest development was really just … depressing.
“Will you wear that on Louie’s show?”
He was making the final rounds of the property for the day, not only checking locks but also looking for anything out of order, a possible clue to something more sinister, the real value to his new employer.
“No one’s said anything about it to me one way or the other. Have you been given some wardrobe instructions, Eden?”
From the convent residence above where he stood, he could hear the nuns singing grace before dinner.
“Actually, this woman called me, said I should ‘reflect that New York social circle’ I run with!” She laughed. “I can’t believe we’re going to be on TV with all these kids!”
Noah took the stone steps down from the main level to the back door of his gatehouse. The scarlet bougainvillea on the property was overgrown and he pushed a branch out of the way. A thorn scraped along his forearm, making a nice, wet, red line.
“Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?” Eden asked.
Inside the small apartment, boxes were still stacked against the wall, though the computer on his desk hummed.
“I cut my arm,” he said, grabbing a towel to stanch the bleed.
“You OK?”
He squinted at the computer screen where a dot blinked, indicating there was a new message for him. “It’s just a scrape, Eden, I’ll be fine.”
“I can come over. Or, I could call Louie, he’s closer – ”
“I’M FINE!”
* * *
The Precious Blood gatehouse had a door built right into the outer wall, meant for packages and vendors and such, but equally useful for tricks, Noah figured.
He all but hung up on Eden. Noah was as angry with himself as he was with her – after all these years, still falling for her shit, being on the yanking end of that von Eiff chain.
Bitch should’ve stayed in New York, she’ll only fuck up everything Louie’s got going, he thought.
There was a little silver bell hung on the outside of this door, something an old nun would’ve thought heavenly. It rang.
This would be Mockingbird.
The dark-skinned, dark-haired man wore a black t-shirt and black jeans and black, ankle-high boots. The blue, green and yellow of a parrot tattoo on his forearm stood out as the only bit of color.
“Finally,” Noah said, pulling Mockingbird in by the arm so he could shut the door quickly.
“So – this is your new place,” the younger man said, taking it in, a thin smile on his handsome face.
Noah had “met” Mockingbird online, but his constant text-spelling mistakes proved problematic. He’d then run into him for real at the Eagle one night, and those earlier failings were forgotten.
Mockingbird was shorter and rougher; as far as Noah was concerned, the perfect friend with benefits. He didn’t even care if he never found out what his “real” name was, undoubtedly something mundane like Hector or Juan.
“You like it?”
The main floor was all one big room, with the kitchen set off by a sparkly, formica-covered “bar” someone must’ve added in the 1960s. At the far end, next to the bathroom and the door that led to the interior courtyard, was a narrow brick staircase leading up to the loft bedroom.
“It’ll take some getting used to,” Noah said, placing his hand against Mockingbird’s chest, his fingers a lazy circle in search of a nipple. “I was in the old place for almost 30 years.”
Mockingbird grabbed Noah’s forearm and squeezed it, hard. “Don’t remind me, you’re older than my father and I don’t want to think about that.” He twisted it, making Noah gasp. He used his other hand to push Noah’s shoulder down, forcing him to his knees.
Noah knew this script well. He pulled at the younger man’s belt buckle but had only got it part way undone when Mockingbird slapped him across the face.
“Not so fast, old man. You got your bed here somewhere, am I right?”
“It’s upstairs.”
“Sir.”
“It’s upstairs, sir.” His cheek smarted – but this was only the beginning.
Mockingbird pushed Noah up the steps and he tripped.
“Get your ass up there!” Mockingbird lifted him by his belt and shoved him further.
“Quiet, sir, I don’t want to disturb the nuns.”
“Fucking nuns, I’ll show your goddamn nuns!”
Noah could only pray that the hard slaps Mockingbird then delivered, along with his resulting sighs and yelps, got mixed in with traffic noise and the occasional helicopter flyovers. He couldn’t even begin to think what Octavia and her sisters would do if they knew what was going on.
After he let Mockingbird out an hour later, he ran a hot bath in the small tub, while Harry Connick, Jr. played the piano on a CD. Noah’s ass was red from the spanking he got and his butthole sore from Mockingbird’s aggressive fuck.
For once he didn’t care about Jivan or Eden or Louie’s stupid reality show. He sank back into the lilac bubbles and closed his eyes.
* * *
So dear reader, tell me: what do you do to keep the nuns from hearing your sex noises?
I meant to do something with this when I first saw it at the end of 2010. Redbridge Books is the first Filipino-owned and operated LBGTQ publishing house, located in Manila.
I love the title, The Pink Morgue. Sounds non-threatening, but with a frightening undertone, yes? And who could resist the graphic novel they list on their site, Gays vs Zombies? I know which fierce group will most likely prevail.
Wishing Redbridge the best of luck in their endeavors!
Felt sorry for those folks, attached to this or that graphic novel or comix booth, who were early Halloween refugees. Some of those costumes looked like they would be tortuous to wear even in normal “warm” weather. Big winners: those vendors selling water, soda, iced tea, lemonade. Not-so big winners: any unmiked reader, or anyone without a hat or sunscreen.
Huge thank you again to Hank Henderson who put together the Homo-Centric booth where I believe he corralled 30 readers throughout the day! And of course, to the good folks at the City of West Hollywood who put on a great event. (Maybe next year if it’s this hot they can open the pool for the event?)
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J61nSocMuZw]
Hey Everyone, remember this Sunday’s the day to brave the traffic or the bus or the bike (or your feet) and get on over to the WeHo Book Fair in West Hollywood Park!
It’s supposed to warm up this weekend – the little weatherman in the Iphone says Sunday’s L.A. high will be 91! (So bring a fan, the hand-held type.)
I’ll be reading at the Homo-Centric Booth at 3 p.m. with a bunch of incredible writers, then again at 5:10 p.m. at the Poetry/Hybrid tent. Looking forward to seeing everyone for a great afternoon of lit and laughs. (And remember, there’s FREE PARKING at the PDC for this event!)
Nowhere Like Home for Gay Writers
Loved reading this Daily News piece about the entrepreneurial spirit of the gays and the NY Latino writers in particular. This reminded me a lot of Hank Henderson’s Homo-Centric in Los Angeles, held at Stories Books & Cafe in Echo Park once a month. (Check out that link for the upcoming event at the West Hollywood Book Fair!) I know Hank started these readings in large part because of the closing of A Different Light in West Hollywood, which left Los Angeles without a bona fide GLBTQI (m-i-c-, k-e-y, ooops) place for appropriate readings. Is this a trend? Are there other alternative places in additional cities springing up, too? Let me know if you know….
I’d love to see more people feel obligated to “bring diversity to a brutally gentrified neighborhood,” wherever it may happen to be. Not sure that Echo Park qualifies in that regard vis a vis the East Village — at least not yet. Just sayin’
Elisa Rolle, the premiere gay fiction blogger, asked me to submit an “Inside Reader” list of some of my favorite GLBT-related books – most novels, not all. Check it out… these books were not only inspirational for my writing, they are also all great reads. Click on link:
Inside Reader List from Jim Arnold
Is he reading as he walks down Duboce?
John Morgan Wilson talks about all the books which have won awards this season, including the Lambda Literary winners, the Independent Benediction. See the list below.
Publisher Awards and the Foreword Magazine winners, which included
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