Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Shadow's Night Promotional Sale

Shadow's Night
After shooting a man while on a bender of drugs he was supposed to sell Conrad flees the city and goes to a place where he believes no one will find him, the home of Simon Winters, an old cellmate from his years in juvenile detention.  But he knows he can’t stay for long and Conrad’s greed inadvertently causes Simon to confront his past and his life in a small town where memories run deep.  How will Simon survive Conrad’s path to darkness?

Sample Chapters: ch 1 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-prologue-going-home.html

ch 2 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-unpublished-excerpt.html

ch 3 - http://queerwordsmakestories.blogspot.com/2014/05/shadows-night-excerpt-unpublished.html


Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Shadow's Night (Excerpt) Chapter 03 - Kevin

Kevin awoke to his alarm clock feeling as if he didn’t have time to sleep.  He looked to see it was 5:30 A.M. and turned off the alarm.  He sat up from his bed feeling renewed but slightly disoriented.  He dropped to the floor where he laid out on his back, put his knees into the air, and began to do sit ups.  He counted them under his breath until he reached twenty, then he rolled over on his stomach and did twenty pushups, jumped to his feet and ran in place for thirty seconds, did fifteen squat thrusts, then got back into position for more sit ups.  He did seven more cycles before he stopped just after the last squat thrust.  He rolled onto his back for a moment to catch his breath. 

He looked under his bed where he saw it was empty and smiled.  He was pleased that there was no clutter, no extra belongings hid somewhere.  He had gotten himself organized six years ago before he started high school and he wasn’t going back.  He sat up, pushed himself from the floor and stripped off his clothes, dropped them in the hamper and stepped in front of the full length mirror.  He was happy with his body for once.  His belly and the padding of baby fat on his face were gone.

Everything was in its right place, he told himself.  He went to the middle of his room and sat, crossed his legs and assumed his best meditative form.  He liked to meditate naked because it felt like his body was the most open.  He thought about the day before and everything he had done.  He thought about the things he needed to do.  He thought about where he had to go, the people he would talk to and deal with and among those people was Thad.

Thad was only minutes away, would be waiting for him on the corner to go for a run.  He smiled.  No, he told himself, be in the moment, put all those assumptions away somewhere.  He had thought it through but life wouldn’t happen exactly that way.  Embrace the chaos, he told himself.

There was the sound of his phone telling him he had a text message from Thad.  Was he running late?  He waited until he felt himself calm down, then he opened his eyes and got back to his feet.  He retrieved his phone, just a good morning message telling him Thad was five minutes early and missing him.  He smiled and deleted the message before he put down his phone and went to get his workout clothes from the drawer: a thin pair of shorts, t-shirt, jock strap, and cup.  He pulled the jock strap up, placed the cup inside.  He looked at himself in the mirror and was delighted because he never thought four years ago he would take pride in his body and exercise.  He finished dressing, put on his socks and shoes, made his way out of the quiet house.

He checked to make sure he had his house key tied on a string around his neck, that it hadn’t been pulled off while he slept in some accident or fit of rage before he closed the door and made sure it was locked.  He did ten jumping jacks before he dashed down the stairs and across the lawn.  He got to the sidewalk and turned.  He picked up his speed in anticipation of seeing Thad.

Suburban, colonial style houses that had been built over a hundred years ago, the rest of the neighborhood was still quiet.  Only a few mothers and fathers were awake, maybe the poor soul delivering newspapers, garbage collectors and people headed to work knew about this time and many of them probably didn’t appreciate it.  He liked this time of the morning, something few people ever knew about because most of them were still asleep.  Although there would be fewer of them with Fall approaching but sometimes it felt like only him and Thad as they ran the streets and through the park.  That made it easier.

He spotted Thad on the corner in the grass stretching his legs and smiled.  The man was possibly twenty years older than him but fit and good natured unlike any other person his age.  He could be disarming, took an interest in people like when Thad had been impressed that Kevin was a conscientious eater and exercised regularly.  Kevin felt comfortable admitting to him that he struggled with anorexia in high school until his parents got him a therapist who got him a personal trainer.  He learned about food and exercise the right way, he said.

They had talked for a long time about food and work.  Kevin had just begun his internship but he was eager to find out how the newspaper worked.  Thad had told him he was in the photography business for over a decade feeling that it would scare him but Kevin was intrigued by his career.  They talked any chance they got.  They met frequently on breaks and lunch.  Kevin asked him about his previous life and sometimes Thad told him about what it was like as if he wanted to have it again, as if they could have it together.

But even as comfortable as they were with each other coming out was still a process.  Finally, after weeks of talking Thad admitted that he had broken up with his long-term boyfriend before moving to town.  Kevin sat in silence for a long time.  He knew that each had suspected the other was gay but not wanting to offend each other they assumed the other was straight, neither of them even in these days wanted to risk offending the other by making some assumption.  Kevin had never told anyone his own secret but then he just said it.

“I haven’t had a boyfriend yet but I’m looking forward to it.”

They both looked at each other and laughed suddenly feeling ridiculous for not recognizing in the other, for being afraid of saying something for weeks.  After that it became more comfortable until Thad asked him to go jogging.  Kevin felt himself being excited about the idea.  Was it a date?  Was it the beginning of a relationship?  He found himself flirting with the older man if even only accidentally or unconsciously until he recognized what he had done, what he had said.  Thad noticed but said that he was afraid of being in a relationship with someone so young, but that was months ago.

Kevin came to a stop a few feet from Thad after signaling to each other a hello.  He began to run in place.  He looked up and down the streets but there was no traffic, a few inside houselights were on.  He signaled for Thad to get ready.

“How are you this morning?” Thad asked.

“Good,” Kevin said.  “How are you?”

“Old,” Thad said.

“Better hurry then before you get any older.  Last one to the park has to pay for lunch.”

Kevin began to run away towards the park and Thad gave him a lead before he dashed after him.  Thad got close enough to make Kevin look back.  Each let out a laugh before they doubled down and began to run as hard as they could.  They were even when Thad reached over and slapped playfully at Kevin’s arm.  Kevin tried to slap back or at least keep him away.  It was a long run into the back of the neighborhood to the park, a preservation, the as of yet unprocessed trees.

Kevin felt as if for once he was leading when Thad stopped playing and gave it his all.  He pulled ahead of the young man for just long enough that he touched the park sign first.  Kevin slowed himself enough, ran into the sign and let out a laugh.

“You’re too much,” Thad said.

“I think we’re both going to be tired today for work,” Kevin said.

“At least you’re only there for a few hours.”

“So are you,” Kevin said.

“Oh right, well, it’s nice to not have a good job I guess.  Hey that reminds me do you want to help me at my studio on Saturday?  I’d pay you something under the table, say twenty bucks and maybe a piece of pizza.”

“Yeah sure,” Kevin said.  That would be a good way to earn some money, maybe they could find some time to do something else, but then he reminded himself of where they were.  He signaled for Thad to follow him.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” Thad said.

They walked into the park, along the familiar trail.  Down one path, then off on another, and yet another going in a direction few walkers ever went.  Kevin signaled with his head for Thad to follow him along a thin path through the trees.  They had fooled around in different spots all over the park, mostly kissing and groping. 

He moved on impulse, searching out some perfect spot.  He walked until he felt far enough away so they wouldn’t be seen.  They stopped to catch their breath, to listen and make sure no one else was around and they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Kevin looked to the older man, stared him in the eye before he pulled off his shirt and threw it to him.  Thad shook his head as if he was shaking away guilt before he pulled off his own shirt.  Kevin let his shorts drop, stuck his thumbs in the waist band of his jock, ran them between the fabric and his own skin, moved his thumbs down to the straps where he toyed with them, toyed with Thad’s desire.

“You’re naughty,” Thad said.

“Maybe we both are,” Kevin said.

They listened for a moment to make sure no one had heard them.  They stepped to each other with their hands slightly out anticipating the touch.  They reached for skin at the same time.  They were simultaneously delighted by the feel of their touch and being touched. 

They kissed.

Buy The Book

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Unpublished Book Synopsis

After shooting a man while on a bender of drugs he was supposed to sell Conrad flees the city for a refuge where no one will find him, the home of Simon Winters, an old cellmate from his years in juvenile detention. Conrad’s avarice inadvertently causes Simon to confront his past and his life in a small town where memories run deep. How will Simon survive Conrad’s path to darkness?

Monday, March 31, 2014

Domestic Abuse Representation in LGBTQ Writing

Since February 10, 2014 I have been writing a fictional portrayal of young, gay man trying to get out of an domestic abuse relationship because I feel like queer fiction, gay fiction, needs to add more subjects and content, more diversity, to its wheel house, to represent those who are not normally represented.

It's not a popular subject.  I can understand why people don't want to talk about it.  It's frustrating.  It's real and it can be disturbing for people who never experienced it because it is closer than the boogeyman or some monster in a horror movie.

Sometimes the closest I got to finding some kind of representation of the topic was in bdsm erotica, novels trying to deal with PTSD and trauma. While I appreciate these efforts I worry that the intention is muddled by the other content, not maliciously but incidentally.  For some those subjects are even closely related as they equate bdsm with domestic abuse.  I don't equate the two and in my personal life and fictional portrayals look to define the two as separate subjects.

My story line is post break up, post abuse, and I consider other characters besides the subject of the story line (Josh), like Spencer who let's him move into his apartment and develops a crush on the recovering character.  In one part natural attraction and another it is about 'coming to the rescue', a sort of paternalistic urge, especially given their difference in age.  And yet Spencer is terribly insecure with his own past and troubles. 

Can they overcome their fears?  Will they endure?  And can they depend on their friends for support?

insidethebeltwaygayfiction.blogspot.com

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

New Character, New Romance - Inside the Beltway

In this week's post to Inside the Beltway I am introducing the character of Josh who is trying to get out of an abusive relationship with another man. He is welcomed by the guys and taken in by Spencer who has his own apartment, and although Spencer spends a lot of time with the guys he also likes his alone time and a new roommate doesn't really allow for that... but maybe there is also some kind of connection?

While I am not looking to get into the graphic depiction of abuse I feel, know, the scars of trauma can be painful and want to treat it with respect.

The issue was one I didn't think about much as a younger gay man and I haven't yet seen it portrayed or talked about much.  Was it in L Word? I only saw a few episodes of that show which I thought was great but never got around to collecting.

But I digress, Josh, domestic abuse, healing, and maybe a little romance will be in the mix. I have posts for the next three weeks and leads for several more to flesh it out so I hope you check it out and stick around.

http://insidethebeltwaygayfiction.blogspot.com/


Friday, January 31, 2014

Inside the Beltway (New Blog)

It just feels good to be doing something. I decided to start posting my serialized, gay fiction work 'Inside the Beltway' to my own blog. Chapters 1-15 should now be up.

Ch 15 Preview-
Drinking on the weekends became drinking every night until he had a collection of bottles in the cupboards of his kitchen instead of dishes, along the counters, and windowsills.

Sometimes they had a utility by holding candles but afterwards, after he decided to detox, go to AA and quit, well they were a reminder.  He hated the sound they made, bottle against bottle, grinding as he carried the bottles by the brown paper bag full, two or three in each hand to the dumpster where he set them to the side.  They were gone the next day, collected by one of the city’s many homeless, someone had hit the mother load.  He could smile about that minimal good that came from his habit, his indulgence, no his suffering.

-http://insidethebeltwaygayfiction.blogspot.com/

Monday, October 21, 2013

Inside the Beltway Ch 11 (excerpt)

My serialized gay, fiction on the Swish Edition website.  I am missing the laughs.

Inside the Beltway Ch 11- They were meeting up with Triston’s coworker, Cheryl, and her friend Doug at an old strip mall in Virginia to, of all things, toss dildos. The sex toys, over thirty of them, had been pulled from the shelves for destruction by the manufacturer for their possible toxic elements. swishedition.com/?p=9184

Monday, July 29, 2013

Inside the Beltway (my new serialized fiction)


Chapter 01
“He’s threatening to leak our sex tape,” Spencer said.
“Our sex tape?” Bobby asked.
Check out my new story on Swish Edition http://www.swishedition.com/?p=9184

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Queer as Folk: What It Means To Me





In my last year of college I was renting a room in a house in a rural area out of the city limits on a lot with a steep driveway and surrounded by trees.

On my way to and from the house I used to pass a small field that hadn’t been used for crops for some time, the grass, recurring wheat, and rye grew tall, unmanaged and unchecked.

It was the type of place where it was easy to mistakenly think you were alone if you stepped out in your housecoat to pick up the newspaper.

The man who owned the house and was renting the room to me had two dogs, both were labradors and both had no training.

As I said it was easy to mistakenly think you were alone.  He didn’t like to keep them chained up and he didn’t believe in allowing animals inside the house so he had fixed up an area of the barn for them with hay where they could come and go easily.

It was the year Brokeback Mountain had been released and I was still deeply in the closet.  As part of my seeking for role models and identity I ordered Queer as Folk Season 1 through an online site along with two books.

I had known about Queer as Folk since about my junior year in high school.  Its name had pervaded popular culture enough so that I knew it was based in Pittsburgh (near my hometown) and about gay culture.  I was even able to catch ten minutes of it when my family had gotten a free preview of Showtime on cable.

Ten minutes was all I dared at the time in case someone waked into the room while I watched it.  Then when I was home from college years later and feeling more bold I used to sneak down to the living room and watch a whole episode or two in the middle of the night but by then it was season 3 or 4 and I can’t remember which episodes I caught, so frightened was my mind that it didn’t sink into my long-term memory.

So when I got the chance to order it, to have the first season arrive to my house where I could sit in my room and watch them all in private I was very excited.

The day came and I woke up late.  I looked on the front porch but I didn’t see a box so then I began to fix breakfast while listening for a delivery.  Finally with my food done I looked out one last time only to see something strange and shiny in the driveway.  I put down my plate and ran outside to see that the Season 1 box was alone in the dirt.

The cardboard covering for the season as well as one of the thin plastic DVD containers inside had been chewed upon but none of the DVDs were damaged.

I looked for more remnants.  I saw a cover to a book and I thought I would find the rest but I didn’t find anything else.  There was no shipping box, no books.

Did I mention the dogs were loose?  The two dogs had gotten into the box and ripped it to shreds, destroyed the books.  All I had left was the DVDs themselves in chewed containers.  I was pissed and amused at the same time.

Much later when one of them had puppies, because the owner until then didn’t believe in neutering animals, I found scraps of the pages in the nesting.  By then I was no longer angry and found some humor at the site.  Is there humor in that?

Anyway, the box had been destroyed by the landlord’s dogs so I called him and told him what had happened.  He wasn’t the type of man to offer compensation right away and told me I should call the place where I ordered it.  I did.  But at the time I had shame about what I was buying.

After dealing with the two different companies and complaining in my best angry but polite phone voice the representative told me to return the DVDs to a local store to get a replacement or else get my money back which I said I would.

I was full of anxiety but also enough frustration that I drove there.  With the DVD box in my bag I walked into the store, right past the return section all the way to the back of the store and through its many aisles.  We’ll say it was to let myself breath and regain focus.  I did.  And I ended up in the gay and lesbian book ghetto where a few older men lurked nearby sometimes looking for someone eager and naive.  There were a few there this time.

It was that kind of town.  It was that kind of store.  I was creeped out by the old men so I decided to confront my fears and go to the return section.  As I waited patiently to be called to the return counter one of the old men who had followed me from gay ghetto began to look at a display of calendars.

As I tried to determine his intentions he picked out one of the calendars that was a beefcake fireman one with a picture of several shirtless men on the front.  He lifted it into the air and began to look at it in a very brazen manner.  I looked away.

I’m not saying he was stalking me.  I’m not saying I wasn’t paranoid.  I am saying coincidence is a bitch, especially when you’re ashamed of the thing you are carrying with you.

I was called up to the counter where I presented my item to the cashier and told her my story along with providing the remnants of my receipt.  Oh yes, remnants of the receipt, I forgot to mention that was the other thing I found.  She had to get the manager and my anxiety grew.  In a town like this I didn’t know what type of manager I would get.

I was slightly relieved when he was only a few years older than myself, had a goatee, pierced ears, and set off my gay-dar, but only slightly.  I explained to him what had happened and he very politely told me I would have to call back to the representative and tell them he couldn’t accept the item because they didn’t carry it in the store so he couldn’t swap.  I thanked them and left the store.

Hours later I explained this to my coworker at my student work job in much the same way I am telling you and she laughed then I laughed.  She said it must have felt like God had intervened  with getting my first real gay, real defining gift for myself and it kind of did if I believed in those sorts of things.  But it didn’t stop me.

Later I would get myself several other gay interest shows and films as well as the series box set of Queer as Folk, without God’s intervention they all arrived safely.

In fact that box set was how I ‘outed’ myself to my new boss at work who himself was an out and proud gay man.  I remember standing in his office talking about something and then working into the conversation that I was between seasons.  His response was that it wasn’t the best representation of gay culture but that he watched it.

Which is a long way to saying how I feel about Queer as Folk as a show and as a series: it isn’t the best representation (what could be?) but it was and is very meaningful in my life.

My negative feelings about the show aren’t necessarily rooted in feeling that I wasn’t represented or that others, namely heterosexuals, will get a poor impression of me, because let’s face it if they are homophobic they aren’t going to watch the show, but rather some of the superficial and insulting elements to members of the LGBTQ community many of which triggered or added to my own internalized phobias and prejudice about how members of the community judged each other when it came to looks, gender, and sexual activity.

But I don’t really want to get into the semantics of that argument in this article.

Let’s just say it was a flawed diamond, a treasure that I found in the late hours when everyone else was asleep.