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           Gay Hardcovers at the Library                                           by Loren McLeod

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I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Gay & Lesbian Community Center of Central Florida lately, specifically in their lending library.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to borrow all the gay-themed novels and non-fiction. One thing that bugs me about their library, though, is that whoever receives and shelves the book donations takes the jackets off the hard cover books before he labels them (dewey decimal system?). As the jackets generally contain story summaries, I have to take home these hardcovers and read them in order to find out what they’re about. I’ve done this a couple of times, though lately I will check out several hardcovers and then look them up on amazon.com to see what they’re about. It’s frustrating, but ultimately worth it as the Orange County Florida Public Library doesn’t have a lot of gay titles.

Among the books I’ve checked out are several by Fred Hunter. They feature amateur CIA sleuth Alex Reynolds, his lover and his mother. They live in Chicago, I think. I can’t remember. I’ve tried to put his books out of my mind because they were so bad and obvious and because the Reynolds makes such stupid decisions in solving mysteries. I read “National Nancys” and “Capital Queers.”

They were terrible. In theme they’re like “Scarecrow and Mrs. King,” in that the CIA calls upon Reynolds, his lover and mother, all of whom live together, to help them with cases. The three of them are such idiots, though, I can’t imagine anyone asking them to help change a tire or a light bulb much less solve political murders. Avoid these books.

Better is “Decorated to Death,” by Dean James.

This is one of the hardcovers I just checked out and began reading with no information about it. “Decorated” features a vampire named Simon Kirby-Jones, an American who lives in a small village in England and solves murders. It was pretty standard stuff, but for his being a vampire. The story, and particularly the character, was engaging enough for me to check out additional books featuring the vamp-sleuth. In this story, a British HGTV decorating celebrity named Zeke Harwood is murdered while redecorating the drawing room of a large country estate. The suspects are the estate owner, Harwood’s staff, and others. Again, standard whodunit stuff, but one thing I really liked was that during the investigation, Kirby-Jones discovers Harwood was straight but pretended to be gay for the sake of his audience. So strange as so many gay celebs pretend to be straight for their careers. Just kind of thought-provoking. Pick it up if English village mysteries (Miss Marple stuff) are your thing.

I just started “The Master of Seacliff,” by Max Pierce.

It’s this total gay American version of “Jane Eyre,” set at the end of the 19th century. In “Master,” twenty year-old Andrew Wyndham, an orphan raised by an aunt and uncle, gets a job as a tutor (governess…) at Seacliff Manor, located two hundred miles north of New York City on the Atlantic Coast (Connecticut? Massachusetts). The Seacliff mansion is huge and dark. On a cliff, of course. Sixty-five dark wooded acres. An old, neglected cemetery. The house’s owner, Duncan Stewart, is a more “Wuthering Height’s” Heathcliffe. There’s a family secret involving the strange death of his father eight years prior to the story. Stewart’s got an eight year-old son he brought back from Europe as a baby with no apparent mother. The housekeeper’s daughter committed suicide leaving a creepy young wraith-like boy to be raised by his grandparents…everything but Grace Poole and the crazy first wife in the attic. Oh, and there’s romance, too: Stewart’s handsome blonde neighbor and schoolboy friend Leo Van Horne, makes a pass at Wyndham, thus creating a love triangle among the tutor, his employer, and the neighbor. It’s all very bodice-ripping, though no sex, at least as of page forty-two. I’ve read historical gay romances in the past whose characters fuck hard in the first chapter. They don’t interest me. Though “Master” rips off the Bronte sisters, the writing is good and the characters engaging.

I continue to read John Morgan Wilson’s Benjamin Justice mysteries.

They feature a gay, middle-aged disgraced journalist who finds himself involved in complex, often political murder mysteries in West Hollywood. The plots are rich, full and well thought-out. Justice is likable enough, though sometimes too whiny about his life and bad choices. I like better his landlords, octogenarian couple Fred and Maurice, who have been together for over fifty years. The scenes with them are my favorite. I got three of those books at the gay center’s library. Others I’ve bought used on amazon.com. When I finish them they go to the gay library’s shelves.

Finally, I read “Committed, A Rabble-Rouser’s Memoir,” by PETA Vice-President Dan Mathews.

That book was loaned to me by a friend. It’s a super read. It begins with a description of his childhood, specifically his being an outcast because he was effeminate and into punk rock. He and his two brothers lived with his wacky and totally cool divorced mother. They took in cats. Lots of them. After enduring high school Mathews went to Italy to study history. He modeled and did Italian commercials. He’s six foot five. He returned to the US, got a history degree someplace, and then took a job as a receptionist at PETA’s Washington DC office in the mid-eighties. Most of the book is about Mathews' wacky adventures doing protests and other campaigns to raise awareness for animal rights. Lest readers think he’s just an attention-seeking hellraiser, he describes animal friendly legislation and other victories that result from his protesting efforts. For example, he and his colleagues stormed Calvin Klein’s offices years ago.

Later, and as a direct result of that episode and a later meeting Mathews had with the designer, Klein dumped fur from his clothing lines. Other celebs who appear in the book include Chrissy Hynde, Pamela Anderson, Kid Rock, Morrissey and Lady Bunny.

There’s plenty of references to the animal abuse horrors in the US and around the world, including Russia and China. Mathews’ good humor and fun anecdotes make it tolerable. One great story involves the author’s trip to see the Shroud of Turin.

It’s that piece of fabric that supposedly covered Jesus after he died. It’s supposed to contain his image. Mathews cites a rumor that Jesus belonged to a Jewish tribe that was vegetarian. He claims that this can be proven by a scientific examination of the skid (POOP) marks he left on the Shroud of Turin.

Now, I haven’t seen the shroud in person and only the facial image on TV. I can neither confirm nor deny Jesus left POOP marks (like Divine

in the early sex scene in “Female Trouble”), but if Mathews says they’re there, I believe him. I also believe Jesus’ feces should be examined to discover his diet. It’s important. The world needs to know what make up his feces. Or Feces, I guess. If we capitalize pronouns describing Him, we should also capitalize the F in His Feces. That’s what I think!

BYE NOW!

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