Sex and Death in the American Novel

Sex and Death in the American Novel by Sarah Martinez Read Free Book Online

Book: Sex and Death in the American Novel by Sarah Martinez Read Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Martinez
planet, our culture is a total wasteland, no one will be reading in twenty more years anyway. All my observations probably don't matter, but I can't stop thinking about it all either.”
    I stared. “You really think it's that bad?”
    “By the time Dad was my age he was starting his third book. Sometimes I wonder if I will even have enough years left to work out what I want to say, let alone sit and write it all out.”
    He pushed himself up into a standing position and looked down to me. “None of this is anything you should be worried about though. You are happy, Vivi, don't let anything change that. Not some uptight writers thinking women can't write. Not Dad. Write what you want and stay the way you are.”
    I stood and hugged him and we just stood there for a while; he rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head, then I pulled back. “What do you really think about my writing?”
    I stepped back and chewed my thumbnail.
    “You know,” he offered this as if it had just occurred to him, “it isn't an issue of the quality of your writing, Slug, it's more about the subject matter. Maybe the stories make me a little uncomfortable because they bring me right into something I would rather not be in the middle of.”
    “Give me a break! You watch lesbian porn. I saw it in your room.”
    “Still.” He tipped his head to one side to acknowledge my remarks. “Your interests will likely change, so don't expect to want to write or read the same things forever. There are no limits; success is just a matter of what you are aiming for.”
    “Really?” I was afraid he was humoring me, but I was desperate to believe him.

    The afternoon after I returned from the island, Eric came by as planned to drop off a manuscript. Since we often agreed on books, he was a perfect reader for me. He was the reason I wrote romances for gay men, and he wasthe reason I was successful at it. Several times in my last novel he had saved me from describing emotions and physical reactions incorrectly.
    I flopped down on the couch when we got inside. “Man, am I glad to see your piercing blue eyes.”
    He fluttered his eyelashes and lowered his voice. “Wuz up kitten?” He sat beside me, digging in the messenger bag he'd brought along and pulling out a much more worn copy of the manuscript I'd given him. He tossed it on to the coffee table.
    “I swear, my mother and brother are the most depressing two people on the planet. He is starting over again .”
    “This is like the fourth time right?”
    I nodded. “I'm starting to think he won't ever finish.”
    Eric went into the kitchen and fixed us each a drink. “Maybe that's the point.”
    “I think so, only this time he seems more bummed out about it. Usually when he goes on about starting over, he has a great new plan. This time he just stopped talking about it.”
    “Do you think he will give up writing?” Eric handed me the orange and vodka in one of my heavy glass tumblers.
    I sipped my drink and shook my head. “No way. I do wish he would take a break though. I think he has been staring at that thing for five years now. He can't see out of it.”
    Eric made a sound of assent while he sipped his drink, then we turned our attention to my manuscript. The third draft of my novel, Anglers , was about a group of fly fishermen who stumble upon a hidden collective of men in the woods, sort of a Western twist on the Amazon legend, replacing the big-boobed women with well-hung young men.
    “So?” I asked after we sat staring at it.
    “It's kind of creepy the way you have the guys in the forest converting the straight guys from the outside,” he began.
    We discussed the different places he felt I was trying too hard to make a statement, or prove a point. “The story is supposed to be fun in the end right?”
    “Uh. Huh.”
    “Well, for a while it wasn't. It was like you were trying to convert me to being gay or something.”
    We both laughed at that. Eric had told me he would rather sleep

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