fiction and musings from a gay black dude with delusions above his station
This month, I’m curating a series of photos of books by and about black gay men on Instagram. We have a long, rich history of telling our stories. Sadly, much of it remains hidden just beneath the surface. Even today, one learns about these jewels by word of mouth. Sometimes, folks ask me if I’ll…
[Part of a series of posts previewing the novel Sin Against the Race.] In addition to meeting his late cousin’s friends, Alfonso meets two folks closer to his age: Bill Hawk and Roy Prince. Before there was Alfonso R. Berry III, there was Bill Hawk, an 18-year-old freshman. In early drafts of Sin Against the Race,…
[Part of a series of posts previewing the novel Sin Against the Race.] Sammy Turner can be a nag. Some might call Sammy Turner a busybody, because he knows everybody’s business. All that know him, however, will eventually admit that Sammy Turner is their rock. His corner grocery story is the kitchen of Carver Street, the…
I wanted an area where black and queer intersected, overlapped. My friend and former college roommate Pete recommended that I create my own neighborhood—from this suggestion The Huck was born. In its center lies Huckleberry Park, a large urban patch of green that spans several long blocks. A largely African American neighborhood, straight folks live…
Get ready, folks! My first novel Sin Against the Race drops Sunday, October 29. Am I excited? Hell yeah, I’m excited! This day has been a Long Time Coming. Indeed, the genesis of this book dates back to my own coming out nearly 30 years ago. Upon coming into the life, I became entranced by the…
For the first few years of his life, Billy Strayhorn didn’t have a name. His parents had buried two of three children born before him, so when the new born started life sickly, with rickets, they did not rush to name him. He was called “Baby Boy Strayhorn” on his birth certificate. The rickets went…
“Love him, and let him love you.” – James Baldwin Out of nowhere, my friend started making loud, “Eww!” sounds. Over and over again, “Eeeeewwwww!!!” I was like, what? He said he saw two men on the TV, kissing. I had missed it. He continued to register his disgust on our eardrums. My other friend…
He liked to be called J, so even his name remained a mystery. We had dinner together a few times. We saw a movie together. I asked teasingly if these things were outside the bounds of tolerance from his government. He only smiled. I actually referenced his peculiar homeland very infrequently. It sat in the…
His uniform and the strong sense of purpose with which he came at me caused an instinctual reaction. I no longer roamed freely around an open market in small-town Malaysia. I was back home in South Central, a frightened nappy-headed kid who knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but felt a need to flee anyway….
[Originally published in February 2012.] When I was about 13 I had to endure a week at Reverend Schlep’s Summer Camp for Men and Boys. It’s a right of passage in my family. My grandfather took my father. My father took my older brothers Mark and Karl, Jr., when they reached the right age. Now…
