New Release; Bruno Gmunder Verlag Anthology

New Release; Bruno Gmunder Verlag Anthology

I have a short story out in a new anthology recently released by German Publisher, Bruno Gmunder Verlag. I just received the author copy in the mail today and the book looks great. It's always nice to hold that physical book in your hand no matter how much you love digital books. This anthology was put together and edited by Winston Giesecke, whom I've posted about before, here.

The title of the book is Daddy Knows Best: Gay Erotic Stories, and this is always something that brings me back to my roots as a writer...pre-internet days when publishing, especially gay publishing, was a very different place.  I haven't been in an anthology like this for a while for lack of time, however, it's where I feel the most secure as a writer because I know where I am as a gay writer, for lack of a better way to phrase that.

What is it about older men that gay boys find so irresistible? Some say young men in search of a "daddy" to partner up with - sometimes for life, sometimes just for the night - are looking for someone to mentor them. Take care of them. But there are plenty of young studs with dirty minds who simply find that men get better with age. Older men are hotter. More confident. More experienced. For some, it's all about dominance and submission. For others, it's about getting off with a guy who turns you on. These are the couplings explored in Daddy Knows Best, a sizzling collection of erotic stories - some romantic, some raunchy - that probe the younger man-older man dynamic in sensual, graphic detail. About the Editor: Beginning his career as a television writer, Winston Gieseke penned episodes for shows like Wildfire and Hollywood Off-Ramp. He has composed tantalizing copy for various adult entertainment companies and served as editor in chief of both Men and Freshmen magazines before honing his journalistic skills as managing editor of The Advocate.

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Sen. McCain Defends Gays in Russia; FREE Excerpt Chase of a Dream

Sen. McCain Defends Gays in Russia

Sen. John McCain, a Republican who ran against President Obama in 2008, recently made strong statements against Russia, which include comments about Russian discrimination against gays. McCain spoke out in reply to a NYT editoral by Russian President Vladimir Putin. Among many things McCain slammed that include ruling through oppression, McCain said this about how Russia treats gays.

"They write laws to codify bigotry against people whose sexual orientation they condemn. They throw the members of a punk rock band in jail for the crime of being provocative and vulgar and for having the audacity to protest President Putin's rule," he said.

 You can read more here.

As a side note, McCain's wife, Cindy, is a gay activist.

Cindy McCain talked about her recent turn as a gay rights advocate and her husband’s (potentially) evolving views on equal marriage as a guest on the Bender podcast on Thursday.

McCain credits her daughter Megan with opening her eyes and “challenging” her to do more to support gay rights — and that may not be the only case of familial influence going on in the McCain household.

Free Excerpt Chase of a Dream

Here's another free excerpt from one of my indie pubbed books, Chase of a Dream. It's the second book in the Chase series, and I released this one in both abridged and unabridged versions so that people who prefer erotic gay romance could buy the version with sex, and those who don't like too much sex can buy the toned down version. This is from the unabridged version, and you'll have to click the link to my Word Press blog at the end to read the adult rated parts.

From the raw unedited version:

After dinner, Len and Cain went out on the veranda overlooking the Hollywood Hills and Jim put Culum to bed. Normally, both Len and Jim would have put Culum to bed together, but Jim thought Len needed a little time alone with his son. And Culum was such an easy child to deal with getting him to bed was never much of a problem.

            That night, with Clinger at Jim’s side, he gave Culum a quick bath, put on his favorite little gray sweat suit that he liked sleeping in, and tucked him into bed. There was no need for a diaper. Culum had been potty trained completely at a very early age. He’d been such an easy-going child Jim and Len didn’t even notice if he’d gone through the “terrible two” stage all parents seemed to dread.

Clinger always slept in Culum’s room, right beside Culum’s bed, on a pale blue carpet that always reminded Jim of needlepoint. It was nubby and there were flecks of white stippled between the blue fibers. The large tan dog had begun this ritual of sleeping beside Culum’s bed the first night Len and Culum moved into Jim’s house and he’d never stopped. And if anyone tried to move Clinger, he growled and refused to budge. Although they had a nanny cam and intercom in the nursery, if Culum needed them in the middle of the night Clinger usually started to bark before they heard a sound come from the speakers.

When he was all covered and snuggled in bed, Culum glanced up at Jim and said, “Who is that man, daddy?” The child hadn’t said a word up until he was about nineteen months old. Jim and Len had been concerned about this. But once he started, he spoke in full sentences without baby talk. Len told Jim that Cain had been the same way when he’d been a baby.

Jim smiled and patted Culum’s tiny shoulder. He knew Culum was asking about Cain. He and Len had agreed not to hide the truth from Culum about anything…ever. They wanted him to know who he was and where he came from and to be proud of it. They had nothing to hide, and they wanted to instill this sense of family and strength in Culum at a young age. Culum knew Len was his grandfather; he knew Jim wasn’t his biological dad but he called him dad anyway. “He’s your other dad, Culum. He’s your biological dad. We told you about him before. Don’t you remember?”

They had mentioned Cain, but not often. Jim knew the child hadn’t processed it all yet. The only reason they used large words like biological was to prepare him and get him used to the word. Baby talk wasn’t allowed in their home…at least not when Len was around. Jim often ignored this and spoiled Culum rotten when they were alone together. But Len was determined not to make the same mistakes with Culum that he’d made with Cain. Jim often thought Len took this to extremes and he tried to create a balance. 

Culum let this information sink in for a moment, and then he asked, “Where’s my mom?”

This always tugged at Jim’s heart. They tried to shower the boy with as much love and honesty as they could. They made a point of inviting Culum’s biological mom to LA to spend time with him. But Culum’s mother didn’t seem to want anything to do with him and neither Jim nor Len knew how to deal with that. The thought of a mother not wanting to know her own flesh and blood passed Jim by. But he always kept things positive for Culum’s sake and spoke well of her. “We’ve told you that a million times, Culum. Your mom lives in Texas. She’s studying to be an attorney in Austin. Your mom and your other dad were a couple, like husband and wife, and they broke up before you were born. That’s when your grandpa and I adopted you.” Jim tried to keep things simple, especially when it came to his relationship with Len. The kid didn’t know the difference between gay and straight yet. Culum was still too young to ask the serious questions, like why his biological mom and dad had given him up, and Jim dreaded the day he would have to explain this. He knew the best he could do for now was to let Culum know that they loved him more than anything else in the world.

“How long is my other dad going to be here?” Culum asked.

Jim shrugged. “I’m not sure. He said he was going to move to Los Angeles, so I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of him.”

“Do you like him?”

Jim patted his shoulder again. “Of course I like him. I grew up with him back in Texas. We were best friends and we’ve known each other all our lives.” He knew this part could be tricky, especially when Culum started to realize that Jim had fallen in love with his best friend’s dad. But they believed the truth was better than keeping secrets. And though it wasn’t a normal situation, they didn’t want to make it abnormal either.

Culum thought again, and then he looked up at Jim and said, “Read me a story, daddy. The one about the bears.”

Jim laughed and reached for a book on the nightstand. Culum loved books and stories; his favorites were The Berenstain Bears. He was glad Culum had stopped asking questions. He didn’t like to answer questions like this when Len wasn’t around. Len had a way of explaining things that always made everything sound so much better than Jim did.

By the time Jim finished reading, Culum had drifted off to sleep. Jim turned out the light, patted Clinger on the head, and went back out to the veranda to see what Len and Cain were doing. He smiled as he passed through the kitchen when he saw that Len had cleaned up the dinner dishes. Though Len didn’t clean between the knobs on the range and he didn’t wipe Culum’s fingerprints off the stainless steel refrigerator like Jim did, he always did his best to put things away and help out around the house. And he did this without ever having to be asked.

When Jim opened the sliding glass door he heard Len say, “We’ve been thinking of buying a ranch out near Chatsworth.”

Jim closed the door and sent Len a frustrated glance. “We’re only thinking of moving. We’re not serious about it.” He knew Len missed his horses and he missed Texas even more. And the house they were living in now was only two thousand square feet…a cottage compared to the homes they’d both been familiar with in Texas. But they’d spent so much time renovating their home and making it perfect Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to go through all that again. But more than that, they’d always been so happy there. For superstitious reasons, Jim wanted to keep things the way they were for as long as he could.

Before Len had a chance to reply, Cain yawned and stretched his arms. “I’m exhausted from traveling all day. I think I’m going to turn in early.” Then he stood up from a lounge chair and stretched again. This time his black polo shirt went up and exposed his abdomen. Jim noticed that he had to be at least ten pounds thinner than the last time he’d seen him. His low-rise jeans hung so low on his hips the waistband of his underwear was showing.

Jim gestured to the house and said, “I put your bags in the guest room. It’s down the hall off the kitchen. The second door on the right. You can’t miss it. I’ll show you if you want.” He was glad Cain had interrupted Len. It caused a pull in Jim’s stomach when he thought about moving away from his home.

“He can find it himself,” Len said. “He’s big boy now.” He spoke with a curt tone, as if he didn’t have patience for Cain. He wouldn’t even look at him. It sounded rude, as though he didn’t want Cain around.

You can read more here:

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Kickstarter Cookbook; Address and Writing Success

Kisckstarter Cookbook

This is an interesting project that's now looking for funding through Kickstarter. An author named Tara Alan is trying to reach an $11,500 goal in order to produce a cookbook she's been working on where she's travels Europe, called Bike, Camp, Cook. I bike, but don't cook much. Camp to me is a drag show with Miss Richfield at the Crown and Anchor in P'town. But I supposed there are others would be interested in something like this, and Kickstarter is now funding projects like this that trad publishers would never have touched in the past.

If you’re not a wizard in the kitchen, don’t worry—I’ve poured loads of cooking know-how into these pages. After years as a head chef for a two-person cycling team, I’ve made a lot of mistakes you can learn from! The first half of the book is filled with everything you’ll need to know to start making delicious meals on a one burner stove.

For me the key word here is one-burner stove. Not going to happen any time soon. But even though this isn't for me, I actually do think there's a market for it, and that there will be a bigger market in the future. I recently read about these mini condos popping up in cities all over the US where people are scaling back to a room that's only a few hundred square feet.

You can read more here, where there's even a video about the project.

Address and Writing Success

When it comes to a physical address I have always believed in the old saying, location, location, location when it comes to real estate values and for business reasons. However, this next piece by Lev Raphael has left me wondering why anyone would give him a column anywhere. This isn't the first time I've felt that way about Raphael's columns, and I'm certain it won't be the last, but in the article he makes a broad assumption that's not based on any viable facts, and he draws no conclusion whatsoever...other than the suggestion that writers are more successful if they live in places like NY.

And if you're in a media nexus like New York, you're more able to make face-to-face connections with other writers, with reviewers, with editors and agents at parties, book signings and readings. These are precious contacts that writers living in East Podunk just can't make happen for themselves. Random contacts at summer writing workshops and yearly conferences aren't the same thing.

Words like "media nexus" don't impress me, not even if you're driving a Lexus. I actually do agree this address deal used to be true up until a few years ago. I also think that where you go to college makes a huge difference, too, with regard to the kinds of lifelong contacts you'll make. But right now I know as many struggling writers living in New York as I do in East Podunk. In fact, there's never been a more wonderful time in the history of publishing for writers because this old rule that we all need to live in places like New York is getting weaker and weaker. And writers from places like this East Podunk aren't facing the address challenge as much as they did in the past. Now the best address for most writers is their web address.

You can read more here if you are so inclined to read pieces that are mainly written to do nothing more than fill a page with words.

I don't review books often, but I do review bloggers and when I see bad advice like this that might discourage the next great author from East Podunk I'm not afraid to offer my own opinion.

 

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Gay Guy Racist Big Brother; Gay Dead for Blowing Kiss; FREE Excerpt Day

Gay Guy Is Racist Big Brother 15

I've been posting about Big Brother 15 all summer and how I've never seen a more racist, vicious group of people who will do anything...absolutely anything...for the sake of a buck. I have watched this show for what feels like my entire life every summer and this year might be the last. Even the gay guy on the show, Andy Herren, who has been the victim of racial comments this summer from other house guests, has joined up with the hate and racism.

Andy Herren was called a “queer” by Gries and “Kermit the fag” by Clawson, but that didn’t keep him from hopping on the hate bandwagon when he agreed with Zimmerman’s observation that many of the evicted houseguests were “robotic biracials.” The college where Herren is/was employed is trying to distance themselves from his comments and posted the following message on its Facebook page:

The statement from the college is vague, and I wonder if Herren actually worked for the college recently, in what capacity, and what his actual job title was. He's such a consummate liar on the show it would be hard to believe anything he said.

You can read more here to see a statement from the college. He's allegedly been fired, like other Big Brother house guests this summer, and like the others who have lost their jobs Herren has no idea. That's because the house guests are sequestered all summer and they have no idea what's been happening in the outside world. With that said, they all know they are on camera at all times and that anything and everything they say or do is recorded for the entire world to see.

As a side note, for those who aren't familiar with Big Brother, one of the reasons people watch Big Brother is to either love or hate the house guests. It's an interesting game filled with strategy, and the contestants are not supposed to play fair all the time. Lying, cheating, and subterfuge is part of the game and it's expected in the game. It's what makes the game interesting. However, racism isn't a requirement. Unfortunately, some of these people are either too dumb or too clueless to get this.

Gay Dead for Blowing Kiss

This is an unusual story because there seem to be so many various stories surfacing it's hard to grasp what happened. Even the victim's name has been misreported, as if someone wasn't paying attention to the facts.

This piece originally stated that a gay man was murdered because he blew a kiss at a young straight man. An update mentions the victim's name. Another update mentions he wasn't really gay.

Steven Torres, a 22-year-old Bronx resident, is facing charges of second degree murder for the death of Ever Orozco after allegedly attacking the man beneath the elevated 7 train station at 90th St. and Roosevelt Ave as he was feeding a parking meter around 1:30 p.m.

"There was a lot of screaming, and all I could see was the guy was stabbing him -- stabbing him and stabbing him," stated Eddie De Jesus, a local stop owner who bore witness to the incident.

According to the New York Daily News, Torres is claiming that he initiated the attack because Orozco "[blew] kisses" at him.

And this piece quotes the victim's wife.

THE WIDOW of a 69-year-old man knifed to death in Queens Monday afternoon raged at the confessed killer Tuesday, calling him “a liar” for claiming her husband made a sexual pass at him and touched himself.

Unfortunately, we'll never know the truth because if the victim was gay his wife might not have known it. It happens all the time, and just because a man is married to a woman doesn't mean he's not attracted to other men. The wife is usually the last to know, and the first to go into denial. I can't even count the times a so-called straight married man has made passes at me over the years. And sometimes when is wife is standing right next to him.

But aside from all that, because it doesn't really matter, this was still a hate crime against the LGBT community, and not the only one that has happened in NY this year.

Overall, NYC has seen a sharp spike in anti-LGBT violence since the spring, with former mayoral candidate Christine Quinn reportedly stating that year-to-year numbers have shown an expected 70 percent increase in anti-gay hate crimes.

FREE Excerpt Day

Here's another free excerpt from one of my books, Jonah Sweet of Delancey Street. It's one of my indie releases, it's a .99 e-book, and can be purchased at several places, including the link above to Amazon.

Although I didn't hold back with the erotic scenes in this book (far from it), this is from the beginning of Chapter Two where Jonah Sweet meets David Abernathy for the first time. Aside from trying to learn how to cook, Jonah also has the gift of mind reading. The book isn't a paranormal by any means. But like there are people who can read minds in real life and see into the future, so can Jonah.
From the raw, unedited version...

The next morning Jonah had an exam. He was supposed to cut or chop something and he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. They never told the students in advance; they expected the students to be prepared and to know how to do anything on the spot. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a good day at all. When he glanced into his closet for something to wear, all he found were his tight beige slacks and a pale, faded pink polo shirt that was so short he couldn’t lift his arms without showing off his bare stomach. The rest of his things were in the laundry and his mom hadn’t done them yet. The only alternative to wearing this outfit would have been to pull something out of his hamper.

He shrugged in defeat and slid the short polo shirt over his head; knowing deep down what he wore had nothing to do with how he would do on the exam. It was a progressive school in the sense that they didn’t force students to wear uniforms; just white aprons and hats while they were working with food. He fastened the tight beige slacks and pulled up the zipper, wishing he hadn’t thrown the jeans he’d worn yesterday into the hamper. He didn’t realize he’d forgotten to take off the cock ring until he got on the subway. He felt an itch between his legs when he sat down next to an old man reading the newspaper. When he reached down to scratch, he felt the black leather cock ring and sighed so loud the old man sitting next to him lowered the newspaper and sent him a dirty look.

As usual, Jonah was right on time without a second to spare and he couldn’t run into the men’s room to remove the cock ring. If he had, he would have been late for class. Those cooking instructors were a serious group. The few times he had arrived late they’d made him stand at the back of the class and separate eggs for three hours, or worse, chop garlic. So he ran up to the second floor, down the hall, and skidded into the classroom with his apron strings flying. He’d put on his apron and his hat on the way up the steps. The rest of the students had already arrived and the only work station available was up front. Jonah preferred to work in the back row so he could blend in better if he wasn’t sure about what he was doing. He didn’t have any choice that morning.

When he entered the room, the instructor threw him a somber glance and frowned. Jonah looked up at a clock on the wall and saw that he was on time; not late, but not early either. He wanted to flip the old goat the bird and say, “It’s only cutting vegetables, not cancer research.” But he’d never been the type to do things like that. So he lifted his chin and set his jaw in defense and turned fast. He took his place at the work station in the front row and dropped his back pack on the floor. He tied his apron and took a quick breath. When he stood up straight to face the instructor, he had to stand with his legs slightly spread apart, with his back arched a little. The cock ring was starting to pinch.

As the instructor shuffled a few papers, a tall man in a biege mock turtle neck sweater walked into the room. The entire class, including Jonah, glanced up to see who he was. He held his head high, with a superior attitude, and swaggered up to the long work station at the head of the class where the instructor stood in front of a large industrial sink. The instructor shook the man’s hand, said something no one could hear, and smiled for the first time since Jonah had enrolled in the cooking school. Then the instructor faced the class and said, “We have a guest today. This is Mr. David Abernathy. He not only owns this school, but also one of the largest restaurant chains in the world and some very large casinos. He’s looking for someone to intern with him and learn his business from the bottom up. The internship will count toward your diploma and the person selected will graduate without having to return. It’s a wonderful opportunity.”

A quiet, collective gasp passed through the room and Jonah knew why. He’d read all about David Abernathy in more than one magazine. His photo was hanging in the front hall of the school. Jonah had also seen him on TV and in a few cameos for feature films. From all reports, David Abernathy was worth more than a billion dollars and he’d made it all on his own by starting a small hamburger stand on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. And he was even better looking in person. He stood over six feet tall, with his head held high and even. His short black hair didn’t have a set part. It seemed messy on top as if he’d planned it that way. The muscles in his arms and shoulders and chest protruded through the tight mock turtleneck in an obvious way that suggested he wanted to show them off. The tight dark jeans he wore accentuated his long legs and created a slight bulge in his crotch. From what Jonah had read, David Abernathy always wore basically the same outfit: a black or beige mock turtle neck and jeans. Sometimes he wore a suit and sometimes he wore a suit jacket with jeans. But he never wore colors other than black, beige, or muted olive green. Jonah had read somewhere he was so obsessive about his conservative clothes he had thousands of identical black and beige mock turtleneck sweaters stacked neatly in all of the homes he owned.

David Abernathy glanced at the students and nodded. His face remained expressionless; he laced his fingers together below his waist. Jonah couldn’t help notice how large his hands were. He had long thick fingers and with smooth even knuckles. A man’s hands were important to Jonah: knobby knuckles and tiny fingers made him wince. He’d always had this unproven theory that a man’s fingers resembled his dick.

The instructor frowned at Jonah and spoke to the entire class. “Today I’ll be testing you on your julienne skills. You will be required to julienne red bell peppers, carrots, leeks, and zucchini. You will be given a certain amount of time to do this and you will be evaluated. Mr. Abernathy will observe and he will make his decision at the end of the class. Are there any questions?”

Jonah glanced at the vegetables at his work station that he would be chopping. He hated to julienne even more than he hated to bone chickens. Getting those thin little strips just right made his stomach tighten. And those red bell peppers were a killer, with all those messy seeds and slimy insides. Oh, if he’d known this would be the exam he would have been practicing his julienne skills last night instead of dicing the fucking onions. This instructor always threw him off this way. The man couldn’t be predicted, not even by a mind reader.

Though Jonah knew he didn’t have a chance in hell at being chosen for the internship with David Abernathy, he lifted his French knife and braced for battle with the red bell pepper. When the instructor said, “Go,” Jonah reached for a pepper and did the best he could. While everyone around him seemed to work with precision, Jonah forced a smile and tried to keep the pepper on the wooden work station so he could slice it in half. He lost the first one because he moved his leg and the cock ring pinched his left nut. He squeezed the pepper too hard, it flew off the work station, and landed in the large sink in front of the instructor. When Jonah glanced up, the instructor glared back at him with his arms folded across his chest. Jonah forced a smile and a quick shrug, even though the cock ring was pinching him so hard now he wanted to scream.

Jonah avoided looking at David Abernathy completely. David had piercing blue eyes and a deep intense stare. He knew if he did look at him he’d only screw up even more. Jonah had always avoided men like David Abernathy. When he looked into their eyes a lump always formed in his throat and he lost his voice.

When the instructor told them to stop, Jonah glanced down at his station and frowned. He’d only managed to cut up three red peppers, excluding the one that went over the work station. And not very well either. Instead of thin strips like everyone around him, his resembled thick crooked arrows with jagged edges and dented skins. One looked as if he’d stepped on it and rubbed it between his legs. As the instructor walked up and down the aisles, passing work stations to see what the students had done, Jonah tried to push the ugliest slices of pepper out of the way. But it didn’t work. When the instructor reached his work station and glanced down to see Jonah’s work, he shook his head and sent Jonah a look that combined pity and disgust.

David Abernathy stood behind the instructor, checking to see who had the best julienne skills. David glanced at the mess on Jonah’s work station and his eyebrows went up. After he blinked, he rubbed his jaw and tilted his head to the side. When Jonah got nervous he had trouble controlling his mind reading skills. He heard the instructor thinking, “What a fucking dunce. It’s a good thing he’s cute and he has that hot little ass, because he wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.” Jonah heard a few of the other students around him laughing internally at the mess he’d created. But Jonah couldn’t read David Abernathy’s mind at all. He wasn’t sure why either. And he didn’t try harder. From the confused look on Abernathy’s face, Jonah had a feeling he didn’t want to know what Abernathy was thinking.

The rest of the julienne exams went as poorly as the red bell pepper. The cock ring continued to pinch. Jonah almost lost a finger with the leeks. And those skinny carrots made him bite the inside of his lip so hard he thought he drew blood. By that time Jonah had calmed down enough to control his mind reading skills and he only had to glance at the instructor’s expression to know his thoughts. Each time David Abernathy saw what Jonah had done at the work station his expression went blank, as if he didn’t know what to say.

After Jonah finished working on the zucchini, David Abernathy walked up behind him and startled him so much he gasped and dropped a nine inch zucchini.  It landed on the floor between Abernathy’s feet in a way Jonah couldn’t have planned if he’d tried. He stumbled and wound up on his hands and knees. The back of his short polo shirt went up and exposed half of his naked back. He had to grab David Abernathy’s leg for support so he wouldn’t topple over completely. When he glanced up to apologize, he saw David Abernathy looking down at him with his hands on his hips and what might have been a half smile. It was either that or Abernathy was hiding a sneer.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Abernathy,” Jonah said. “It just slipped right out of my hand. I guess I wasn’t holding it hard enough.” In this position the cock ring pinched even more.

David leaned forward and extended his hands. He grabbed Jonah’s upper arms and lifted him to a standing position without making a face. Jonah’s eyes opened wide; he’d never been lifted by anyone that way before. Then David picked up the zucchini, handed it to Jonah, and said, “This might be a little too big for you to handle. You should try something smaller. Something you can really get your hand around.”

Jonah’s jaw dropped and he nodded. He tried to read David’s mind again and nothing happened. “I’ll do that, Mr. Abernathy. Thank you, Sir.”

When Jonah called him Sir, David sent him an intense stare that lingered a second or two longer than it should have. David nodded fast and said, “You’re welcome.”

At the end of the class, the instructor took a few minutes to evaluate the students and Jonah cleaned up his work station. He didn’t dare look up at David Abernathy or the instructor. He knew he’d never have a chance to be Abernathy’s intern. But more than that, he had a feeling he’d flunked the class and he’d have to wind up taking it all over again. His mind began to wander and he started to think about taking a real estate course instead of cooking school. Maybe his mom was right: he should call Stanley Minford up and marry and settle down. There were worse men than Stanley. At least Stanley would always treat him well. He just couldn’t get past the sex they would have…or wouldn’t have. He’d always believed the sex should be spectacular in the beginning of a relationship. He’d been counting on this.

When the instructor set his notebook down, he said something to David Abernathy and they walked into a small office to discuss who Abernathy had chosen to be his intern. While they were in the office, Jonah ran down the hall to the men’s room to remove the cock ring. He didn’t linger. He went into a stall, shoved his hand down his pants, and undid the snaps. Then he shoved the cock ring into his pocket and noticed that his pants were so tight it stuck out even with the apron. He couldn’t walk around with a cock ring sticking out of his leg, and didn’t want to leave the cock ring in the bathroom. This one had cost him a lot of money. So he snapped it around his wrist and ran back to the classroom.

When he returned, the instructor and David were coming out of the office. The instructor noticed Jonah rushing into the room and he frowned. Jonah looked down at his shoes and took a deep breath, praying this would all be over soon so he could figure out what he’d do now. As the two men walked back to the main work station, the instructor had a strange look on his face. His lips were pinched together and his eyebrows furrowed. David Abernathy stood still, with his head up high and the same blank expression he’d had when he arrived. He even folded his hands behind his back and started rocking on his feet. At one point, Jonah could feel David’s stare and he didn’t dare look up to see why he was looking at him.

The instructor coughed and said, “Mr. Abernathy has made his decision. The rest of you have passed the course and I’ll go over your grades with you in private in my office one at a time.” He stopped talking and glared at Jonah for a moment. Then he clenched his fists and said, “Jonah Sweet will be leaving us so he can apprentice with David Abernathy.”

 

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E-book Netflix; Digital in Libraries and Schools; Six Word Twitterfest

E-book Netflix

There's something new coming for people who can't get enough e-books that's going to be like Netflix is for movies. Those who are honest and don't pirate books and movies will love this. With the leveling off of e-book sales, people who read e-books are now being called "heavy readers" compared to those who still read print books. According to this piece, the average person who reads e-books reads 24 books a year in comparison to the average person who reads print books, which is around 15 books a year.

So it makes sense that these readers might welcome new ways to feed their habits. The notion of “a Netflix for books” has been kicked around for a while. Oyster.com, a ballyhooed new venture backed by such digital glitterati as Sean Parker and Peter Thiel, just launched its beta version, but it’s not the only promising option out there.

You can read more here. The article goes on to mention a few more differences between readers. I still think some of this information is off, because I see more people reading on tablets and devices than ever before. I just don't think they are buying as many books as they did in the past, and that's partly because the price of e-books is still way to high for most people. If I were to decide on e-book prices they would range from 1.99 - 6.99, and not a penny higher. There's this feature I've seen on my Verizon On Demand movie rental section where they pre-release movies. You can't rent those for 4.99 or 5.99. You can only buy them for prices that range from 16.99 - 19.99. I pass every single time. I know I'll be able to see it for less eventually. Consumers aren't stupid.

Digital in Libraries and Schools

For those who think e-books are only a trend like the hoola hoop was, you might want to reconsider. I don't know a single kid in my circles who isn't reading e-books, who doesn't have a tablet or e-reading device of some kind, and doesn't know how to use technology as if it came to them as part of their birthright. And I'm talking about kids who come from various income backgrounds. Some are from privilege and others are not. College students are now looking to download books for free because they can't get the digital versions yet and they don't want to pay hundreds of dollars for a book they will only use for a few months of their lives.

In this article it talks about Youtube veteran, Lee C. Milstein, joining Overdrive and heading up a new department that will focus on distributing e-books to libraries and schools.

Milstein, who has also held leadership roles at AOL and DivX, will lead OverDrive’s emerging digital media businesses. This includes expanding the company’s push into streaming video and education content and services. Milstein will also guide the organization’s overall strategy and strategic partnerships. Milstein will also lead a market development team that will be based in New York City, a first time the company has had a presence in the city.

My sister is a school teacher at a charter school in Allentown, PA, and all I hear from her is how she has to learn something new almost each week that's related to all things digital.

Six Word Twitterfest

This actually reminds me of a short shot story contest that used to (and may still be) held by Writers' Digest Magazine. Writers had to write a short story in 1,500 words or less in order to qualify. The only difference now with the twitterfest deal is that you can only write six words.

From the press release, and you can read more here.

Six-Word Memoir began as a contest in collaboration with Twitter in 2006, asking people to tweet their response to a simple challenge: ‘Can you tell the story of your life in six words?’ Seven books and more than 700,000 Six-Word stories later, Six Words have become an easy and inspired form of engagement to get to the essence of anything.” What do you think?

I think it's fun, and I love word economy. That's was editing is all about, not fixing punctuation and grammar. That's called copyediting.

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Rainbow eBooks Shutting Down; Free Excerpt The Arrangement

Rainbow eBooks Shutting Down

I'd heard about this last week, but didn't want to post anything until I knew for certain and had a link. Rainbow eBooks, which has been selling digital books with LGBT content, is shutting its web site down at the end of this month.

Rainbow eBooks has announced today that they are shutting down their online bookstore. The web store will remain active for purchases through September 30, 2013 and will remain active for customer downloads through December 31, 2013. After December 31, 2013 Rainbow eBooks will provide direct links to publishers.

The rest of the article goes on to mention how important it is to back up your e-books just in case something like this happens. And it has happened before (1placeforromance.com, and fictionwise.com) and it WILL happen again. It's also why established authors with small start up presses should be seriously thinking about learning indie publishing if they want to survive. If the online retail stores aren't lasting, the small online presses won't either. It's especially important for those with multiple titles at small presses. If that small press shutters you'll want to release your backlisted books. My prediction is that most authors of the future will be selling their own books directly from their own web sites...kind like what J.K. Rowling did.

The bookstore feature of J.K. Rowling's Pottermore website went live Tuesday, enabling English-language readers to buy the digital editions of all seven Harry Potter novels—and the audiobook editions—from anywhere in the world. Editions in French, Italian, German and Spanish will be the next wave.

 

The author who is also the businessperson will flourish in the coming decades.

I don't think Rainbow eBooks shutting down is any reflection on e-books in a general sense. E-books aren't going to disappear because a small business shuts down. Brick and mortar bookstores have been going out of business for years and there could be multiple reasons why that vary from business to business.

I think it's more of a reflection on small businesses, and how hard it is to get any small business off the ground to the point where it's at least breaking even. It's also a reflection on how hard it is to get any LGBT oriented business to make a profit, especially in publishing. I see more gay men reading mainstream books than LGBT oriented books all the time. It's a tight niche market and only a small percentage of the population is going to read LGBT content, and that includes gay people. In the same respect, it was a brave venture for the people who started Rainbow eBooks and I'm sorry to see them go.

Free Excerpt The Arrangement

This is an excerpt from a novella I wrote about a year and a half ago titled, The Arrangement. It was released through ravenous romance as a collaboration with author Andrew Grey who also wrote a novella of his own. The book is titled In Bed with the Boss. My novella is about a young guy during the early l960's who winds up working in an office building in New York and falling in love with his married boss during a time when anything considered even remotely homosexual was taboo.

Once again, this is the raw version, and you can read the full excerpt with all of the erotic scenes here at my Word Press Blog. It's the full first chapter of the novella. The novella is about 25,000 words in length. I don't like to add anything with adult content to this blog. And the word press excerpt is much longer than this one.

In l962, if a man was attracted to another man, he was considered a homosexual in clinical terms. In more realistic everyday terms, men like this were considered queers, fags, pansies, deviants, and perverts. Among other crude references, which ranged from pillow-biter to corn-holer, depending on how graphic someone wanted to be, men who were even remotely attracted to other men were, in essence, sick freaks of nature and societal outcasts. And if a man and fell in love with another man, he was one step beyond royally screwed. In other words, there wasn’t much hope.

            Toby McFarlane didn’t think of himself as a freak or a pervert, at least not deep down inside where it really mattered. Though he wasn’t sure two men could fall in love with each other, he didn’t discard the concept either.

It wasn’t until he graduated from college and realized his attraction to men wasn’t a stage when he finally decided to stop fighting his feelings and learn to live with them. And even that wasn’t easy. He never went a day without feeling anxious or worried that someone would figure him out. He was always looking over his shoulder, making sure he didn’t make the wrong gestures or give anyone the wrong look. So he did the best he could to blend in with everyone else, which seemed to be the safest way to live his life.  

In the summer of l962, right after he graduated from the ultra conservative Drew Universityin New Jersey, Toby moved to New York City. It seemed like the best thing to do. He took a small apartment in midtown Manhattan on the fourth floor of a building that had once been a large single family home. He figured moving to New Yorkwould be safe and there would be more men like him in an urban environment. He knew there were more men like him; he’d read about them and heard about them. But he just wasn’t sure how…or where…to meet them. There had to be a way to search them out, and he was determined to do it.  

A week after he moved to New Yorkhe went on an interview. They offered him the job that day and he accepted it with a huge smile and his strongest, manliest handshake. The next Monday he went to work as an assistant art director for Johnson, Frederick, and Lindsay Advertising, Inc, where he fell into a comfortable routine. It was the golden age of advertising and Toby couldn’t have asked for a better position. He wore dark suits and white shirts to work, with skinny solid ties, boxer shorts in pastel colors, and always white undershirts. On his feet he wore black Thom MaCan’s he had shined once a week by an old man named Otis in the lobby of his office building on Madison Avenue. He ate lunch at Horn and Hardart and ordered cheap Chinese take out three times a week. On weekends, he took long walks in central park and took the bus to Newark, NJ, so he could shop in Bamberger’sbecause he thought it was cheaper than Macy’s. On the third Saturday of every month he rode the subway downtown to little Italy to maintain his short dark hair. The barber on Mulberry Street, between Defazio’s Bakery and Orritelli’s shoe repair, only charged three dollars. In those days, Toby’s ninety dollar a week salary wasn’t considered terrible, but he’d learned how to stretch a dollar and make it last.

            When Toby walked to work in the morning, he looked just like all the other men on the street. He even wore a dark felt hat and a baggy beige raincoat during inclement weather. The only thing that ever really set him apart from the other men was that he often carried a large portfolio to the office instead of a briefcase. Sometimes he took work home, especially when he was working on an advertising campaign that needed extra attention. When he was inside the office among his peers, no one would ever have guessed he was more interested in the cute young guy who brought the mail up at eleven every morning than he was in the shapely blond receptionist in the front waiting area. That is no one except for Brad Lindsay, one of Toby’s bosses and the third and youngest partner in the advertising agency.

Brad and Toby were both in their twenties, both thin and attractive; both had similar hair cuts and wore similar suits. If Toby’s hair hadn’t been a few shades darker than Brad’s, they could have passed as brothers. The only real difference between them was that Brad was married to Carl Frederick’s daughter, Misty, and Brad had been made a junior partner the day after his wedding. And Toby was single and considered a bachelor.

They weren’t men who should have been close friends, and wouldn’t have been if something hadn’t happened one Friday evening the first autumn Toby worked there. Toby had stayed late to work on a project that had been bothering him. He was the new guy in the office and he wanted to impress his bosses. He’d been trying to come up with a new slogan for a baby food company and he’d been working so hard that day his head was pounding. He’d forgotten to eat lunch and lost track of time. When he finally took a break to go to the men’s room, he ran into Brad Lindsay at the urinals. Brad was standing there leaning back, with his legs spread wide and one hand on his penis. He glanced at Toby and sent him a cocky smile, and then started to whistle a tuneless song that made the short hairs on the back of Toby’s neck stand up.

Toby returned the smile and took a quick breath. He regained his composure and tried to act casual. He usually avoided the men’s room at all cost because it made him feel awkward and out of place. He’d never been a man’s man in the sense that he didn’t know how to talk about sports and dreaded it when other men started talking dirty about women. But he didn’t have a choice now. If he left without doing anything he would have looked peculiar. So he walked up to a urinal at the opposite end of where Brad Lindsay was peeing and pulled down his zipper. Toby’s hands felt a little shaky and his heart started to race. Brad continued to whistle; he took his time and remained in front of the urinal far longer than he should have.

Toby pulled his penis out of his pants and glanced down. He didn’t look sideways and he concentrated on what he was doing. But he felt his ears getting red and his heart had begun to race. If he’d known Brad was in there he would have waited another fifteen minutes.

Then Brad caught him off guard. He smiled and glanced in Toby’s direction again. “Working late tonight?”

This was the first time Toby had actually encountered Brad Lindsay up close. He’d nodded hello and smiled at him in the elevator. But he’d never actually been face to face with him alone. Toby froze; he gulped and said, “Ah well, I’m working on the baby food campaign.”

Brad laughed. “Oh, you poor sucker. I heard all about that son of a bitch. He’s one of the worst clients we’ve ever had. It’s impossible to please him.”

Although they were about the same age, Brad was Toby’s boss and Toby knew he had to treat him like a boss, not a buddy. He’d watched the way other people treated Brad: with great care. “I’ll figure out something that will make him happy, Mr. Lindsay. You can count on that.” Toby was ambitious. So far, he liked working there. And he knew he could only depend on his work ethics and his talents to get ahead because there was no way he’d ever marry the boss’s daughter. Toby had overheard the office gossip. They laughed and said Brad would have been working in the mail room if he hadn’t married old man Frederick’s daughter.

Read more...

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Small Things: 17 Dudes with Teeny Weenies

Small Things: 17 Dudes with Teeny Weenies

This is one of those ridiculous articles we love to love, even though we know it's not true and no one can actually prove anything. They put together a list of famous men who allegedly are not well endowed.

Of course they had to pick on Ben Affleck once again.

He obviously wasn't judged nude when he was once named People's Sexiest Man Alive. Michael Clark Duncan, his co-star in Armageddon, had this to say: "Don't get me wrong, ladies, Ben is cool, but I've seen the guy naked ... and c'mon, man! I was not impressed at all." Ouch.

And this one kind of surprised me.

Colin Farrell...in his own words...Farrell has said: "Let me tell you, it ain't nothing to f*cking write home about!"

I think Farrell is being way too humble, or he's not grateful to have been so blessed. I've actually seen the homemade video of his floating around he web and he has noting about which to worry. In fact, he's more than capable of doing full frontal without an ounce of worry.

And then there is the voice of reason from the comment thread:

You are somewhat right about why people divorce. I married my husband because he's hung like a horse. Men should know how to use what they have. If a guy is good in bed, then an average penis is fine.

I have to agree with her on that. Size really doesn't matter if the guy is comfortable with himself and he knows what he's doing.

For more interesting comments, check out the rest of the thread. And I mean interesting in terms of learning how people really feel about these things.

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Ben Affleck as a Hero in Batman; Free Excerpt Week

Ben Affleck as a Hero in Batman

The main reason I'm posting this today is because we saw Argo on Saturday night, finally, and we loved it. I know there's been controversy about the historical facts, but I'm only talking about the film itself, as it stood, without really knowing anything about the topic. Tony and I were too young to remember the details of what happened during the Iran hostage crisis, so for us watching the film was pretty much a blank slate as far as historical details went. I'm talking about the acting, the story, the way it was executed, and the dialogue.

So after seeing how wonderful Ben Affleck was in Argo, I find it hard to understand why so many have gone berserk about him playing Batman. All through Argo I kept thinking, from the POV of a romance writer, he's the penultimate hero. Argo is a real life Batman story, without the tights and mask. You could take the basic story line from Argo, fictionalize it with a different hostage situation, and turn it into a Batman film and no one would even think twice.

And yet there's still discussion over whether or not Affleck is right for the role of Batman. And I have to wonder how much more an actor has to prove himself to play a cartoon character.

This is the latest I've read:

Speaking to investors yesterday at a conference in the US, Warner Bros CEO Kevin Tsujihara confirmed rumours that the new Dark Knight would be a more mature figure than previous iterations. "[He'll be] tired and weary and seasoned and been doing it for awhile," he said at the Bank of America Merrill Lynch media communications and entertainment conference, adding that the studio thought Affleck was "perfect" for the role and expected the film to be "huge".

You can read more here.

I think it's typical of what I post about here sometimes, when authors try to step out of the box, so to speak, and write something in a different genre. Once you're pegged a certain way, that's how it remains. Imagine if I decided to write children's books? It happens to everyone at one point or another. When I owned my gallery in New Hope the guy who owned the candy store was "The Candy Guy." And that's how he will remain forever. At least authors can use pen names. Affleck can't do that.

Free Excerpt Week

This week I'm going to be posting free excerpts from books every day. This one is from a current release from the Bad Boy Billionaire series, The Vegas Shark. I did have to break for an erotic scene, because I can't post that content on google blogger. But the gist of the story is here. And you can read the full excerpt, with the erotic scene, here at my WordPress blog if you are so inclined. If you want to comment, please come back here and comment because I don't check WordPress comments all the time. And, keep in mind this is from the unedited, raw version, not the review copy or final book.

After they showered and dressed, Treston made coffee. He wanted to sit at the table and talk for a few minutes. He didn’t have to go to work until later and he knew Harlan didn’t have anything planned that day. But Harlan grabbed a chipped mug and said, “We’ll drink it on the way to the bank. I want to take you somewhere special today. Don’t waste time. You talk too much anyway.”

            When he heard Harlan wanted to take him somewhere special, his head went up and he smiled. “Where do you want to take me?” He’d thought they would go ring shopping, but now that Harlan had mentioned taking him somewhere special he decided not to mention rings that morning. This was the first time since they’d met and fallen in love that Harlan had suggested going anywhere during the day.

            “It’s a great big surprise,” Harlan said, as he turned to a small mirror in the living room to put on his dark sunglasses and check out his hair. He was wearing tight faded jeans that made his crotch bulge, a white shirt, and the same black leather jacket he’d worn the night Treston had met him.

            “Can’t you even give me a hint,” Treston said. At that moment, as he stood before the mirror moving his hair around, Treston thought he was the most attractive man in the universe.

            “No hints,” Harlan said. “Shut the fuck up and let’s go now. I never met anyone who wanted to talk so much.”

            Treston knew Harlan hated too much talking, so he took his mug of coffee and followed him toward the door in silence. Treston had decided to wear his new low-rise jeans and a black mock turtleneck. The jeans had cost him over one hundred dollars and he couldn’t even afford them…they were still on the credit card Harlan had maxed out. He didn’t wear a jacket because it was warm out. He wanted to ask Harlan why he was wearing his favorite jacket on such a warm day, but he decided not to say anything. He had a feeling if he did ask Harlan would say he was talking too much again. He’d been trying to make an effort not to do this.

            They drove to the bank in Harlan’s red twenty year old Jeep Cherokee. It was so old there were holes in the seats, rust around all the bumpers, and the steering wheel made a strange crunching noise whenever Harlan made a left turn. One of the springs was broken and the left side of the rear end sagged. But Treston didn’t own a car and he didn’t mind driving around in the old car as long as he was with Harlan. He was so much in love with this strong handsome man he even held his head higher when they pulled into the bank parking lot.

            Before they got out, Harlan said, “I need a little more money.”

            Treston tilted his head sideways. “I don’t understand. Those guys gave you almost a thousand dollars and you said you only needed me to make up the rest of what they owed you. You said you were going to pay off the credit card with the money.”

            “I have to pay a few dudes off first,” Harlan said. “After that, I’ll be completely free and I’ll owe no one. I only need about three thousand to get out of this jam.”

            “Three thousand dollars?” Treston said. He felt a pull in his stomach. “I only have about two thousand in the bank. If I withdraw that much I’ll only have three hundred bucks left.” He’d been saving that money for a long time. He’d skipped meals and worked extra hours just to sock this money away. He knew it wasn’t much, not for most people. But to him it was a small fortune and a little piece of mind in case there was an emergency.

            Harlan sulked and punched the steering wheel. “I knew you’d react this way. You only care about yourself. That’s okay. If you don’t want me to have the money I’ll live. We can just postpone getting rings and getting married for the next six months.”

            Treston took a quick breath. “Calm down now. Don’t get upset, sweetie.” When he saw the expression of defeat all over Harlan’s face he felt a tug in his heart. He reached over and caressed his handsome rugged face. “I’ll give you the money. We’ll figure out a way to pay off the credit card. I’ll just work more hours.” He didn’t want to wait six months to get married…even if gay marriage wasn’t legal.  

            So they unfolded from the old Jeep and went into the bank. While Treston withdrew almost all of his savings, Harlan waited in the background between two brown velvet ropes near the exit. Treston asked the bank teller to give him the money in one hundred dollar bills so he could slip it into his pocket without looking too obvious. He hated carrying so much cash around and he felt uncomfortable all the way back to the car.

            When they were inside, Harlan started the engine and said, “Now I’m taking you somewhere very special. I’ve been planning this wonderful surprise for a couple of days.” He didn’t ask Treston to hand over the money right away.

            Treston sat up and forgot all about the large sum of money in his back pocket. “Can’t you give me a hint?” Oh, how he loved surprises. He didn’t really want to know.

            “It’s someplace you said you always wanted to go,” Harlan said. “And that’s all I’m going to tell you for now. You’ll see soon enough.” Then he backed the car out of the parking space and headed toward the exit.

            It didn’t take Treston long to figure out where they were going. He knew the roads; he’d traveled them all his life. “You’re taking me to Hoover Dam, aren’t you? I can’t believe it. I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never actually been to Hoover Dam or Lake Mead. I guess it’s like people who live in New York and never actually go to the Statue of Liberty. Or people who live in Washington, D.C. and never actually go to the Washington Monument. I once met a guy from Philadelphia who said he’d been born and raised there and he’d never seen the Liberty Bell. I guess when you live in a place you take all these things for granted. I’ve always wanted to see Hoover Dam, but I always kept putting it off. I feel like that guy from Philadelphia who never…”

            Harlan cut him off. “You’re talking too much again, bitch. It’s giving me a fucking headache.” He spoke with a softer tone, as if he were trying to control his voice.

            “I’m sorry,” Treston said. “I’m just so excited about going to Hoover Dam for the first time I can’t help myself.” They were almost halfway there. It wasn’t more than a forty minute drive and they were the only car on the road.

Break for erotic scene.

The thought of making love to Harlan outdoors made Treston forget all about how far out they were. The thought of walking naked through the trails excited him, too. So he took off all his clothes in the car, and then he got out and followed Harlan up a narrow winding trail that didn’t seem to lead to anything specific. There were no other people around, which made Treston relax about what they were planning to do. The last thing he needed was to get arrested for indecent exposure and public sex. But he trusted Harlan so much he knew nothing bad could ever happen to him.

             Harlan took such big steps Treston had to practically run to keep up with him. He had to hold his dick to keep it from bouncing around. But when they finally reached a small alcove between a group of rocks, Harlan stopped walking and said, “Shit, man. I forgot to bring a condom. I’ll have to go back to the car. You stay here and wait for me.”

            “I’m not staying here alone, stark naked.” He felt a chill up his spine.

            “You’ll be fine,” Harlan said. “I’ll be right back. I’ll run all the way and back.” Then he put his arms around Treston and kissed him with his tongue in a way that made Treston’s knees go weak every time. The way his thick leather jacket rubbed against Harlan’s naked body made him want to submit to anything Harlan suggested.

            When they finished kissing, Harlan slapped his ass and turned toward the trail. Without giving him a backward glance, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

            “Don’t take too long,” Treston said. “I don’t want to get arrested.”

            When Treston couldn’t see Harlan in the distance, he turned around and searched for a flat space to stretch out. He figured as long as he was outside he might as well stretch out and work on his tan. He even removed his boots and his socks so he wouldn’t have a tan line around his ankles.

            The first twenty minutes passed fairly quickly. He didn’t even glance at his watch once. But after an hour passed he started to get an uneasy feeling deep in his gut. It had only taken them thirty minutes to get up there on foot and he started to worry something had happened to Harlan. Maybe he’d fallen; he could have made a wrong turn and lost his way.

            After another hour had passed, Treston felt panicky. Harlan should have been back by now. He pictured him flat on his back with blood trickling down from his temple. He imagined him wandering lost, between rocks and ridges, trying to find his way, the poor helpless thing. So Treston put on his boots and socks and slowly made his way back down the trail to where they’d parked the Jeep. But on the way he started to experience even more panic when he realized there was no way anyone could get lost. It was a narrow trail with more than a few twists and bends, but distinctive enough to keep him on the right path. When he finally reached the spot where they’d parked the Jeep and he found it empty without a trace of Harlan or his clothes, a lump formed in his stomach and he fell down on his knees and started to sob so hard he never thought he’d stop.

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Russia Rewords Olympic Truce; Rita Ora's Topless Tattoo

Russia Rewords Olympic Truce

It's evident there's been a lot going on behind the scenes over Russia's anti-gay laws...and general attitude toward gays. Now they've agreed to reword the Olympic Truce statement.

Normally a symbolic and non-controversial resolution by the world body, this year’s “Olympic Truce” sparked a firestorm of criticism over Russia’s exclusion of sexual orientation. The proposed draft only mentioned “people of different age, sex, physical capacity, religion, race and social status.”

Normally, sexual orientation is not included, however, with the spotlight on Russia's anti-gay law, and so much going on with equal rights and LGBT people all over the world, UN representatives have been urging Russia to include something about sexual orientation this time.

You can read more here.

Rita Ora's Topless Tattoo

Rita Ora just got a tattoo of a topless woman. I don't have any tattoos, and never wanted anything that permanent on my body. However, I've been a fan of those who have good tattoos, and good tattoo artists, for a long time. I knew a few in New Hope who were truly artists and did all of their tattoos freehand. It's amazing to watch, and doesn't look as painful as you hear it is.

McCurdy told E! News that Ora's ink is "the most detailed tattoo" he's ever done on a celebrity, adding that it's a "realistic version of a Vargas painting of a pinup girl."

You can read more here, and see photos of Ora's tattoo. It's very bold and very attractive.

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Sarah Palin S PAC Sued for Copyright Infringement

Sarah Palin S PAC Sued for Copyright Infringement

This is something to take note of, because there are a growing number of litigious photographers, both amateur and professional, that are going after anyone and everyone for using photos without permission. I've been reading amateur blog posts on this topic for over a year, where harmless bloggers who didn't think they were doing anything wrong wound up in litigation thanks to copyright laws that seem to be all over the place with anything online. And there is no warning take down notice required to file suit, as it stands right now. In other words, you don't get a second chance.

In this case, a Sarah Palin Super PAC was sued by a northern NJ newspaper group for using a photo without permission on a web site and on facebook. Yes, it can happen on facebook, too, if the photographer decides to pursue legal action.

A New Jersey-based newspaper publisher is suing Sarah Palin and her political action committee for copyright infringement over the use of an iconic Sept. 11 photograph.

A lawsuit filed Friday in Manhattan federal court by North Jersey Media Group Inc. says Palin's SarahPAC posted a copy of the photo on its website and Facebook page without permission.

I rarely post any photos now, unless I take them myself or I'm positive they are free to share. I find them at places like morguefile.com, or at wiki commons. The photo I posted with my 9/11 post was found here. And frankly, I've even backed off on doing that because I've read that there are people posting photos in various places and claiming they are free to use and they really aren't. In spite of this, you can still be sued for copyright infringement.

I'm going to try to follow this to see what happens. I'm curious to see if eventually there's a take down notice requirement enforced before someone can file a law suit, which is only fair to people who are not doing anything with malicious intent. And that's probably most amateur bloggers like me who are just doing our best to get it right.

With that said, if anyone wants to share a photo I've taken for this blog, feel free to use anything I put up as long as you link back to me and give me credit. You don't have to contact me or ask permission. The link back to me shows you had no intent to claim the photo as your own.  

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RIP Ann Crispin; Toni Morrison Responds to Book Ban

RIP Ann Crispin

The blogging world lost a long time member this summer, Ann C. Crispin, who founded Writer Beware with Victoria Strauss.

Ann Crispin, best-selling author, Writer Beware co-founder, fearless fighter in the scam wars, beloved wife and mother, my friend, died this morning after a two-year struggle with cancer.

You can read more here. The post was written by Strauss, Crispin's co-founder.

Writer Beware was a blog I used to follow more regularly, but as things in the publishing world started to change I stopped following it as regularly because it wasn't something that was directly related to anything I've been doing for the past five years. Though I haven't always agreed with everything on WB, I have learned a great deal through them and Crispin was another consummate blogger who was passionate about what she did.

If you are a new writer and you haven't read WB, I would advise checking it out. As I said, I do think that with many of the changes happening in publishing some things should be rivised (like warning authors about literary agents and other authors who are working together as e-publishers and not disclosing this up front...and yet still claiming they are self-publishing so everyone thinks is just another simple self-publishing venture), but there's still a great deal of good information that might help keep you from getting screwed over by shifty editors and e-publishing services, among other pitfalls that prey upon good unsuspecting people, that seem to be popping up all the time. The e-mails I get from scammers daily would turn this blog into something completely different if I started posting about them daily.

In fact, Tony and I are planning to start an e-publishing service in the future, and one of the things I pay close attention to are posts on WB about other e-publishing services. Our goal is to create something affordable, and that has quality books, where the author always maintains control, and his/her rights at all times. The last thing I would want to see happen would be to get slammed on WB as an e-publishing service. So far, I haven't seen anything at WB with regard to e-publishing services that I haven't agreed with. Most of what they've posted makes sense...and I come to this thinking as a writer, not a publisher or agent. I know what I wouldn't want happen to me.

In any event, Writer Beware will continue on.

Toni Morrison Responds to Book Ban

One of the things that sometimes frustrates me about writing gay fiction of any kind, even gay romance, is when people who are NOT gay challenge what I know to be true and to be fact as a gay man. When I write gay fiction I don't try to turn it into a heteronormative frolic through suburbia like you see on TV shows like The New Normal. I do use heteronormativity sometimes in books because I think there are many gay people who are leaning toward that as we gain more equality. Just look at the marriage proposal video that went viral this weekend and you'll see what I mean. And look at all the gay couples who want children and the typical heteronormative family. But what I never do is fake gay culture, and some things that are rooted deeply in gay culture, and I've been slammed for doing that more than once by non-gay people who *think* they know all about gay people.

And this is exactly how Toni Morrison seems to be responding to comments made about her book, The Bluest Eye. Some have even gone so far as to call the book "porn," which I've posted about on this blog several times. I have read the book more than once and it's not only literary masterpiece, but also an account of African American culture we don't see often. For me, as a gay white male, to even begin to criticize anything about Morrison's personal knowledge when it comes to the African American experience would be ludicrous. It wouldn't even occur to me.

“The book was published in the early seventies and it has been banned so much and so many places. That I am told I am number 14 on the list of 100 banned books,” Morrison told Columbus TV station NBC4.

“I resent it. I mean if it’s Texas or North Carolina as it has been in all sorts of states. But to be a girl from Ohio, writing about Ohio having been born in Lorain, Ohio. And actually relating as an Ohio person, to have the Ohio, what- Board of Education? Is ironic at the least,” Morrison, a Lorain native, told the TV station.

I understand exactly how she feels, from a slightly different POV. Though I would never even suggest that my books be in schools, or read by minors, I feel the same kind of resentment each time I see someone question something I've written about gay men, as a gay man. I'm not the only gay man who feels this way either. It's something we discuss often in private, yet there's nothing to do about it because there are some who don't really want to hear gay voices as they really are. They support gays, they support equal rights, and they support the concept of all LGBT people. But when it comes down to *listening* to gay people they go dead blank and think what they want.

I'm glad Morrison responded to all this, and I'm glad she's not just sitting back and taking it. You can read the entire article in full, here.

She also deserves the last word on this topic, as an African American woman, and a writer.

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