The book is obviously well researched and lovingly written, and anyone withan interest in the city and the era will be rewarded by the pleasant prose and delightful details, right down to the sideburns on the main character’s face.
For that complete review, go here.
For this novel and my other books, see my post BROWDERBOOKS.
Yes, the Rainbow Book Fair of 2019 was an adventure, unique. Rather than taking Lyft, as we usually do for fairs, we walked to the Gay Center on West 13th Street, and all went well. At the Center we found that we were indeed at table #28 in room 101, quite near the entrance, and right across the aisle from the coffee urns and free bagels and doughnuts.
|At a gay book fair, how could this miss?|
My nonfiction title Fascinating New Yorkers (FNY), of which I had only four copies, was also there, for I figured it a close second in sales. I wasn’t sure if Bob’s two books, being slow-paced literary works with great attention to mood and style, would sell at all, so I had only four copies of each on the table. Conspicuous by its absence was my first self-published work, No Place for Normal: New York / Stories from the Most Exciting City in the World. It is not gay-themed, and even more to the point, with its bright rainbow colors on the cover, it catches people’s attention at once. I was determined that this time it would not upstage and outsell my other books, as it is wont to do. So not one copy went on the table, nor did I have one in reserve.
Besides the big sign NEW YORK STORIES hanging in front of our table, we had some smaller fun signs on the table top, to be displayed one at a time:
|Me and my paraphernalia.|
All four walls of room 101 were lined with exhibitors’ tables, and in the center of the spacious room there was a big circle of additional tables, ours included, facing the other tables to create a circular aisle. If visitors entering the room chose to go clockwise, they would go straight ahead and come to our table first. If they chose to go counterclockwise, they would turn to the right and come first to the table of Poets Wear Prada, where a group of older women, one of them in a wheelchair, were displaying a disconcerting array of poetry chapbooks. The women sat with their backs to us, but to access their chairs they had to enter by a narrow aisle next to one end of our table. I predicted that, doing this, someone from their table would step on our trailing table cloth and bring our big book-laden bookrack crashing to the floor. A worst-case scenario, to be sure, so we chose to be optimists.
Also present, midway through the fair, was a blond boy of about fourteen, with an endearing look of innocence, accompanied by an older woman who I assume was his mother. He had probably come out to her early, as kids do nowadays, and expressed a wish to attend the fair. Wisely, Mom decided to go with him. Whether she knew it or not, she was protecting him from the chicken hawks, men who are attracted to innocent-looking young boys ("chicken"). All this is speculation, even fantasy, on my part, but I think there's a bit of truth in it. I hope he found something of interest to read, or was otherwise entertained.
Also, a bookmark for Flight Attendant Joe by author Joe Thomas, asking, “ever wonder what happens behind the scenes at 38,000 feet?” and boasting that “This book has enough ego to fill an entire Airbus A380,” and warning, “Fasten your seat belts and eat your fxcking nuts.” Self-promotion to the limits, all of it, and beyond. But why not? That’s what book fairs are all about.
|Sold three, only one left, and it is spoken for.|
Not meant for coffee tables.
Coming soon: ???
© 2019 Clifford Browder