I just finished reviewing the galleys for a new anthology that’s being released by Cleis Press. The editor is Shane Allison. I’ve worked with him before and I consider him an artist and author, not only an editor.
My story is titled, “On the Bathroom Floor.” I wrote it a long time ago, partly based on true experiences. My blogging buddy, Matthew Darringer, would like this book…at least I think he would. It gets into the reality of how gay men cruise, without making any political or social apologies to anyone. It is what it is; like it or not.
On the other hand, it’s not romance. This is erotica about gay men. The subject matter is for adults only and it’s different from what I usually write with regard to both content and storyline. And that’s because I’m following the guidelines of the editor and the publisher. It’s the kind of fiction I started writing twenty years ago as a freshman in college, for publishers like Cleis Press, before there was even a hint of something called m/m romance.
I’ll post more when the book is released. Here’s a quick excerpt that I’ve edited so it won’t be x-rated on a pg-rated blog. It’s also raw, before the line edits were submitted, so there might be an error or two.
When the weather is warm I like to jog at a small state park
on the outskirts of town, where it’s thick with tall, green
cedar trees; where the wildflowers dot the hills with colors of
the rainbow in spring and where extremely horny straight guys
stop to use the restrooms on their way to work. It doesn’t happen
every morning; about two or three times a month is enough to
create a certain anticipation of great pleasure so that the jogging
itself never becomes repetitive. It’s a beautiful park,
with paved walking trails and open pavilions and a Pennsylvania
stone restroom haphazardly glazed in lime-green moss.
This place is frequented often by guys wearing jeans and
work boots, driving huge, extended-cab pickup trucks on their
way to construction jobs. Married men in dark suits that smell
like aftershave, driving four-door Japanese sedans on their way
to office jobs in the city come, too. Men of all ages and from
all walks of life who stop to use the restrooms and see what’s happening on the down low.