When I first read Curt H. von Dornheim’s work, I found two of my favorite things combined in one author. He’s a gay author who writes both fiction and non-fiction, and the non-fiction is focused on more spiritual topics that resonate with people who are LGBT and might be searching for something more than they can find in the mainstream.
I can’t find an author bio on Amazon, but I do know he’s a retired minister and once worked as a professional organist in some of the most prominent places in both the US and Europe. He also lived in Key West, where he had his own spiritual center and worked with people who had AIDS during the 1990’s. I’m not sure about his exact age, but he’s from an older generation of gay men who have more than their share to say, but haven’t been allowed to say it thanks to more than a few gatekeepers.
I’ve read several of his non-fiction books on the topic of “Creative Consciousness,” and loved them. I discovered Curt during an emotional time in my life about six years ago and his books helped get me through it all. He’s also a psychic spiritualist who keeps all his gifts very silent (he never charges a dime or exploits them). I met him and he did a reading for me I’ll never forget, so this isn’t hearsay. I guess if I had to compare it to anything…which is hard to do…he’s kind of like the Norman Vincent Peale of the gay community with traces of Slyvia Browne and John Edwards.
He doesn’t do social media and you won’t find him yanking your chain, so to speak, on facebook about his latest activities. That’s because when he’s not writing he’s usually helping someone else in need. He’s actually one of the most non-Internet authors I’ve ever met and he writes all his manuscripts out in long hand.
I’ve also read his fiction and loved it just as much. The stories aren’t sexy, but there’s always a message with a deeper meaning. My favorite books are “The Little Baron’s Christmas Angel,” and “The Wings of Fate.” If you like LGBT books with literary quality that don’t sensationalize on overdone topics with over-the-top book dramatic book covers, these are for you.
Here’s a blurb for “Wings of Fate,” and you can find the rest of his books here on Amazon. He’s an indie author and has been since the 1980’s, so I don’t know if he’s distributed anywhere else.
About two years ago I had the exceedingly wonderful privilege to meet Hanna Taube one Saturday afternoon as I was antique hunting in her extraordinary shop of fine lamps and imported antiques in Lambertville, NJ. She immediately caught my attention; a scent of 4711 perfume faintly surrounded her, an air of refreshment. She stood roughly 5’ 6”— and elegant, with an impressive style of fashion and a simple coiffure of slim, gold and silver threads perfectly held by a single pin in a chignon. There was a twinkle in her soft blue eyes that suggested genuine friendliness and knowledge. As she greeted me and bid me welcome I noticed a slight Germanic accent in her British form of English.
We chatted briefly and I made it my business to revisit her shop again, a few weeks later. This time we spoke in German and I was utterly charmed by this dignified lady. Well, in short, we became friends and I looked forward to my Saturday visits to her shop. It gave me not only the rare opportunity to speak German for a half hour, but also to slowly build a highly prized friendship with a lady my age who understood people. She took people at the value of their lives. Rich, poor, young, old, gay or straight played no role with her. Often we would have delightful laughs at life in general. Eventually we dropped the “Sie” and began to use the “du” form of German. This meant we were personal friends, like sister and brother.
She read some of the metaphysical books I had written and it seemed to bring us closer together. Then one unfortunate day she became hospitalized to have surgery performed on her neck, to help alleviate a numbing sensation in her right arm. I visited her in clerics at the hospital and we prayed together. And again visited at her home, also in Bucks County, PA. She mended quickly and I invited her to my Christmas Eve organ recital. It was then when she presented me with a gift, simply wrapped in a plastic bag. I immediately told her that I didn’t want to begin exchanging Christmas presents, but she interrupted my refusal by telling me it was not a Christmas present, but rather a wooden, hand carved plate that she had treasured for almost fifty years. AND, that if I didn’t choose to accept it she would understand. I unceremoniously accepted it from her and was quite impressed with the artistic measure of the wood carving.
Now, I’m not the sort of guy who has any religious wall hangings in my home, and there looking me sadly in the face was an eleven inch oak carving with the head of the crucified Christ. She told the story of who carved it, where it was carved, when it was carved and why it was carved. She also said that the more she got to know me, the more I reminded her of Rudy Hoffen.
This is a terrific love story; however, the names have all been changed to protect the guilty! Guilty? Shouldn’t it be the innocent? NO! Since I don’t want any damn law suits I’ve changed the identity of the ignorant, fearful, weak and guilty!