12.19.2009

Lament for a Bookstore

Losing a good bookstore is like losing a friend. Lambda Rising in DC recently announced that it will close in early January. Likewise, their Rehoboth Beach store will go too. In a three-part annoucement, titled "Mission Accomplished," the Lambda Rising website stated that Lambda Rising was started "as a demonstration of the demand for gay and lesbian literature." The announcement goes on to detail the 35 year history of the bookstore and its part in the LGBT community, framing it as a successful period of growth for LGBT literature.

But is it mission accomplished?

Many bookstores--the major ones--carry a selection of LGBT books. LGBT books have indeed made their way into the mainstream as a section, usually located in the social sciences, barely taking up an entire shelf, where readers can find the major titles: Best (Gay/Lesbian) Erotica of 200X, maybe a book or two from Cleis Press, a paperback from Kensington Books. It's there--but what a limited selection!

Where is Leslie Feinberg, and if ze's there why is ze's story grouped with the lesbian fiction (if we must make categories)? Where is Mabel Maney's campy renditions of Nancy Drew? Erotica from independent publishers like Starbook Press? Or gay poetry for that matter, from Mark Doty or Justin Chin; you can't find Justin Chin in any bookstore. For me, Lambda Rising was a space of exploration into alternative literature, outside what society deemed as mainstream and acceptable. These were the words of my people--and boy, were they good! No mainstream bookstore would carry any of this. Not regularly at least. And what is the point of going to bookstore if you have to order it, if you have to know what you want; the point of the bookstore (what seperates it from online shopping) is the carousing about, the browsing about, for weird covers that catches the eye, and synopsis that shouldn't exist, but there it is in your hand, proof on paper.

For queers like me, mainstream society still doesn't get us. They're focus on Penguin and Harper Collins and Random House, who while do publish gay authors, that seems to come secondary, which it should be, but as a teenager seeing someone--a writer--who was queer, I felt a connection.

And that was what Lambda Rising (and any community bookstore) is about: Connections. You can shop online for books for all I care, but bookstores are about community. Something like Lambda Rising, doubly so. You can't go on Amazon and make a community.  Do you think a group of queer philosophers can meet at the local Barnes and Noble? Not likely, not if they didn't set it up before hand. At independents, it's people knowing what you read, it's going there knowing people are kinda like you.

In an identity based society (you know you wanna call me a gay asian man, but personally I'm just human), such spaces are important. To say mission accomplished would be to state that we are nearing a post-identity market: Where it is okay by booksellers to have a black author in the literature section, when it's okay to have a gay mystery writer in the mystery section and not it some gay mystery section. Where the identity is not important, just the word.

Perhaps this is wherewe're heading if we are to close such queer book store, but it's doubtable. The major bookstores are not likely to remove the gay seciton or the lesbian section or the African American literature sections. It makes more money. It's segreation--segbookgation. But it makes money. They'll probably stay that way, the same smallish size too. Abandoned except by a few who go in secret because they're kinda embarrassed.

Lambda Rising wasn't about embarrassment. It was about being there--you were there--and being proud of who you were, being proud that you found this cool new author from some small press that no one will ever learn about, but at least you feel good as you go up to the counter and pay for it, a little bit of your money going to that starving artist.

12.12.2009

Antonya Nelson Stole My Title!

My first completed story, entitled "I.S.O." is trying to find a home right now. I already sent it out to American Short Fiction. I'm waiting until March or April, when they said they'll contact me back with some answer. It is the story I have been working on for the last three months. About 3000 words. The first line is "I look up ugly people online." I don't think it's wonderful. But I'm just tired of looking at it. I think all writers get tired of looking at their own work at one point or another. My threshold is three months. It was three months of hard labor.

Today Narrative Magazine sent me an email. They said they had new stories up. One by Amy Bloom. Another by Viet Thanh Nguyen (he has my last name, but that's okay). And then there's Miss Antonya Nelson.

FML.

Happy BABBABAAGITSNB!

Happy Buy A Book By A Black Author and Give It To Somebody Not Black Month! Yes, it's that time of year again, according to an article in Poets and Writers by Carleen Brice. She established it last year. Along with a hearty announcement, she gave a short list of recommendations for anyone looking for that special BABBABAAGITSNB Month gift. Among her suggestions are The Book of Night Women by Marlon James, Black Water Rising by Attica Locke, and The Air Between Us, by Deborah Johnson.

Personally I've heard many good things about these books. I haven't read them, but I've heard good things. Many people have heard good things. But have they read these?

Probably not. It's publishing's dirty little secret: segbookgation (you gotta love it when people try to make a pun serious!) You know, that marketing strategy where you take all the books by Black authors, and instead of censoring them or not publishing them at all (like the good ol' days!) you give them their own nice little corner. So what you have is a corner of black authors writing different genres (from erotica to mysteries to literary) and overall ignored by everyone except teenagers who want to get that new Zane book, with the cumshot at the beginning (not that cumshots are all together bad). And yes, it does have cumshot in the beginning.

It's that corner that no one passes. It's the dirty urban fiction area, where no literate person would be caught dead in. It's partly because the covers--the ones hot pink and black with a half naked black girl. Those eyes telling you that's she might be a slut. And there's nothing wrong with being a slut. But when you learn that the other girls in the "general erotica and romance" section are dressed in suits, that they have perfectly done highlights, and they are stubborn, but willing to fall in love if only the right cowboy comes along, you see the problem. You see: segbookgation.


Segbookgation, as defined by author Bernice McFadden, is the phenomenon of "Publishers...[placing] all African-American authors in one box, forcing them to compete for the attention of ONE audience." Comparatively, Nora Roberts would never be in the same section as Joyce Carol Oates. Sylvia Day would never be in the same section as Henry James. Yet we have Toni Morrison next to Mary B Morrison. Zora Neale Hurston just a few books away with a title like Between My Thighs (classy!)

Not downplaying the urban fiction genre (it has its good and its bad), but marketing urban literature as African American literature and African American literature as only urban literature, has its problems. As McFadden points out, all black authors are made to compete with one market--those who visit the hidden corner of shame. Meanwhile, white authors have the option to be in several places, be it sci-fi, mystery, romance. Everything is white, unless we are told otherwise. The result is the underexposure of talented writers because of their skin color. When people see the signage "African American Fiction" they assume poorly written books written by writers "hustling" their books. From the covers, they assume that threatening Black sexuality that is assumed pornographic. Readers move away from the section. Avoiding the section because of the skin colors of the authors. All of which I thought we as a country agreed was wrong.



Anyways, some gift ideas for BABBABAAGITSNB Month:

12.04.2009

Lammy Nominees!

Lambda Literary recently closed its submissions for the 22nd Annual Lammy Awards. As always, I think we can always see who will be the winners, or at least short-listed. It's easy. First, you cut out all the self-published stuff (because most likely the authors are nominating themselves as opposed to say publishing houses; and most of the time these books are not worked out enough, I don't think so--and they have no chance).  After that, you cross out all the books you haven't heard of yet. And then, you have your winner. It's usually the books with the most buzz, the books who's publishers can afford a decent cover, it's usually the gay book of the year that has already been promoted and the prize is just something a little sweet.

Unlike the major book awards (Pulitzer, National Book), it's gay and smaller authors do have a chance to win. Yet also unlike the major awards, there are so many categories. Just look at the webpage and it's so subdivided. Firstly, we have the fiction and nonfiction. Then you have to divide the fiction into gay or lesbian (queers, trannies, and bi-folk don't have such specific categories and must run amok--both fiction and nonfiction--in a separate category). And within gay and lesbian, it is further divided into debut fiction, general fiction, mystery, erotica, romance. So many categories, so many winners! It's like if you're a decent writer, you might as well win something, you're nearly guaranteed it (as long as you can fit into a category). And I think that is what downgrades the prestige of the Lammy award. It's nearly a joke when there's so many possibilities and not just one or two.

What even irks me more is that in some categories, the same people are bound to win--i.e. Richard Labonte is bound is win yet again in the erotica category with his Best Gay Erotica series.  The Best Gay Erotica series is nearly the gay equivalent of the Best American Short Stories or O Henry Prizes (but for gays), yet the difference lies in that the two mainstream series don't even try to nominate themselves for say...the Pulitzer. I think that's against the point. It's like two contests here. You cannot nominate the O Henry Award winners for a National Book Award; why does Lambda Literary accept something that gathers up the year's best works and then give it the prize. I think this is outrageous and another reason why the Lammies are of no prestige. If it was up to me, I would only have four prizes: fiction, nonfiction, poetry, drama. By doing so, only four prizes are given out instead of 22. While identity is important, I think the queerness should come second to the writing quality of the whole and all writing genres should be able to compete against each other (for example a piece of erotica must be able to compete with a piece of literary fiction...there shouldn't be a difference).

Anyway, I'm ranting now. Here are my picks for the fiction prizes.

Debut Lesbian Fiction
More of This World or Maybe Another by Barb Johnson (I knew she was a lesbian!)

General Lesbian Fiction
Risk by Elana Dykewomon (You gotta love that name)

Lesbian Erotica
Best Lesbian Erotica 2010 by Kathleen Warnock

Gay Debut Fiction
Sugarless by James Magruder (everyone fucking loves a coming of age story)




Gay Fiction
Ugly Man by Dennis Cooper (Dennis Cooper should win)

Gay Erotica
Best Gay Erotica 2010 by Richard Labonte

Good luck to all the nominees...even though none of you are reading this...