Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 11

Something unexpected...

I haven't showered in two days. Haven't gone out. Haven't done anything to make myself presentable. Normally, if I don't bathe before bed, I have a hard time getting to sleep. This time? No big deal. And that surprises me.

I slept till near noon, yesterday, and ten-thirty, today. Pulled together the last of the pricing for one job, and have yet to hear back about the other. And worked on Hunger...which might become Deadly Hunger or Murder for Hunger or something silly like that. The Hungry Hunters? I'm still working on it and am up to chapter four, and it's far more vicious, now.

And irreverent. Dirc makes flippant comments about his victims. For example, he's murdered by a cop named Molinaro, who becomes the first man he helps the alien kill.

His description of it is raw and detailed...and very self-centered in how it makes him feel good. Then once he's done and the man has been fed to the space craft for sustenance, he snarks, The son-of-a-bitch shouldn't have killed me.

Even as he acknowledges his own death was really unintentional. Molinaro was freaking out at seeing the alien and his gun went off and hit Dirc in the back. But he was being a dick before that, and had 88 tattooed on his left bicep. So he deserved it. (88 is a nod to HH, as in heil Hitler.)

I need a name for the alien. I don't like just calling it the creature or beast. And a title that really grabs the feeling of the book. I'd say it's black humor but don't know if I can pull that off. Maybe. Depends on how hard I push it.

But this has my attention, now. We'll see how far I go with it.

BTW, that picture is of Garrett Nolan, not me...but he does offer a nice idea of what Dirc looks like.

Madhouse day...

Spent most of the day working up costing for two rush jobs. Both have deadlines of getting done within the next month, and both are fair-size libraries. I'm trying to work around a couple of doctor appointments I have in the second half of June as well as the Fourth of July, but it's going to be tight.

I was still at cross purposes from everything, yesterday, so this was a good distraction. Then for some reason I read the first chapter of The Beast Dines Out, my gay erotic SCI-FI horror story posted in parts on GayDemon. And the casual viciousness of it made me feel better.

Dirc, the MC, is killed by a cop but gets brought back to life by an extraterrestrial trying to feed and heal its space craft. It's experimenting on how best to do that...and happens to conclude Dirc is the perfect vessel to bring it what is needed.

Healthy men. Well-marinated by him raping them. It's like a seasoning, which the space craft likes. This gives the ET an idea. Once the craft is healed, it opens a restaurant in space, an otherworldly truck stop, and makes a deal with Dirc to bring it more men to go on the menu.

Eventually he finds out he's not the only supplier, but he does bring the highest quality guys...

I'm going to rewrite it. Smooth over the story. Tighten up the timing. See if I can put in some more irreverent humor. Right now, it's kind of a mess...but does wind up getting to an HEA point, which I'm keeping. I also want to polish up the inconsistencies and removing some repetitions. Then I'm going to publish it as a whole book under a new title. Maybe Hunger...though that's kind of lame. So are Feeding the Beast and The Beast Dines Out.

Any suggestions would be welcome.

Overwhelming...

Funny thing happened as I tried to work on PvSH. I grew too angry to focus. Then depressed. The murder of Jonathan Joss in a town I lived in for decades has affected me in ways I'll need to work through before I can return to the story.

I kept telling myself to channel my anger into what happens with Simon, and I did manage to get a few pages done. Adding in the police getting a warrant to search Simon's apartment based on a complaint about a man who only vaguely resembles him. Seeking child sexual assault materials.

It happens after Simon is killed but before his body is discovered, which is not supposed to be found. But it is due to him having an AirTag in his backpack and his new attorney's phone in a pocket. They lead ReShawn, his attorney, to his grave.

ReShawn blames himself, thinking he should have taken Simon straight home. At least kept him at his house. And it's becoming clear the local media has been fed the story about the pedophilia investigation and is running with it. Like they are in the smearing of Joss' life. Making his murder his own fault.

It was at this point everything became overwhelming and I had to stop. I was close to losing it...or something. I don't know what. I just didn't....couldn't handle it. Which makes me wonder if I'd be able to handle the coming culture war between the MAGAt Class and the rest of us.

I don't know. I just know...have to acknowledge those people do not care who they hurt or how. And I'm afraid I would feel the same way about them. And if that happened, I feel I'd become as sub-human as them.

I think that would kill me.

Murder

Gay Pride Month began with the murder of a gay man, after his home had been burned down and his dog decapitated. In San Antonio, Texas! A town I lived in for much of my life. And this was after he and his husband had complained to police, consistently, about the homophobic harassment by a neighbor. Of course, the cops did nothing about it.

I don't understand this. Even back in the 70s and 80s, with the sodomy laws in force, San Antonio's gay community was strong and vibrant. Very Latino based, but the bars were open to everyone, and there were also a couple that mixed gay and straight. Like the Bonham Exchange.

Same for Austin, just 70 miles northeast of San Antonio. When you got tired of the vatos, you could scout out the frat boys, 90% of whom were as WASP as they come. Pun intended.

I had very Catholic tastes, back then, which probably stemmed from me being an Air Force brat and growing up around all kinds of kids. I'd hook up with Latinos, Jews, blacks, anglos, and once with a guy who I think was Japanese...if I liked you, I was up for it.

But that is no more. Thanks to that Felon in the White House and the MAGAts in his coven, it has become open season on us...on anyone not white, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant. Don't you dare think you're safe if you're a white Catholic; too many Protestants still see the Catholic Church as the Whore of Babylon.

I know this because when my mother lived with me in LA, she would watch a Presbyterian minister named John Hagee with his sermons on cable, Sunday mornings. I came home one day to see him doing a presentation that explained why the Church of Rome was the seat of evil.

I loved my mother, and she could watch anything she wanted without complaint from me. I'd just go to a laundromat to do my laundry so I wouldn't hear that vile man's shit. He was our version of Northern Ireland's Ian Paisley. Both of them diseased, hateful monsters who used fear and prejudice to build their power and wealth.

Ian Paisley helped prolong the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Those like John Hagee have given the haters ground to believe their evil actions are just. And it always winds up in murder.

Always.

Pride Month

It's the first of June, which is Pride Month, and shortly will follow all the whining straight WASP men asking why there isn't a Straight Month...as if the whole goddamned year isn't theirs. Selfish, pathetic lads pissed because we want a slice of the pie they have chosen to keep for themselves, only. Well, fuck 'em.

Just for fun, I made crepes for brunch. Out of Bisquick. I actually have a recipe. And I have Nutella and bananas, so I made 6 of them wrapped around those little beasties, and they turned out very nicely. Not as nice as the ones I'd gotten at the Farmer's Market, in LA, or a kiosk in London, by the Thames, but still damn good. They weren't pretty, so no pictures...but belly very happy.

I wrote another 1700 words on PvSH, today, and am having fun fucking around with the straight male psyche. Brian Walstead arranges a secret meeting with Frank Paley about the story Simon wrote and they commiserate over ribs and beer, and without saying it come to the decision Simon must be killed. Then Brian tells Judge Denton about the story and they come up with a strategy to minimize it, as if nothing else has been decided.

Something else came up in Brian's talk with Denton that I'm not crazy about so will probably cut. I had once thought of having Denton and his wife be Brian's godparents, but that seems a bit off. Still considering it...but now it's like an unnecessary distraction.

Anyway, what this has done is cut away about 20% of the outline I'd worked up and dumped having the prosecution present falsified evidence to claim Simon had been arrested before. It was coming across as awkward, and now is no longer necessary. So bye-bye.

Since I have no travel plans, now, I may get a first draft of this book done this month.

Piecemeal...

Y'know, in all the mess of my head, something bright sometimes stands out. And while eating my tacos, I had a moment that wasn't in my original outline.
I'm at the point, which is early on in writing the story, where when a moment for PvSH hits me, I write it out and worry about fitting everything together, later. But this one amplifies everything that happened to after the trial...and does away with a part that seemed too ridiculous.

As a way to work out his anger over the case being prosecuted against him, Simon writes a story about the arresting office and the ADA becoming lovers, with the Judge watching them having sex. Initially, it was just for him, so he used their real names as he wrote.

But then...with the Judge's help, the ADA pulled a dirty trick on Simon in order to minimize some evidence he's presented showing the Cop was lying about his actions. So in anger, he posts it on a gay website.

This is all prelude to the scene I wrote. Simon's been found guilty and sentenced to 6 months in jail and a thousand dollar fine. Four months into his sentence, a friend of the ADA reads the story and tells him about it. It's even getting some excellent reviews. He goes to the jail to demand Simon remove it...and that ws the bit I wrote.

Nearly 1500 words and more to come, where Simon refuses, and reminds the ADA that since the story's been popular, it's probably been downloaded and shared so removing it would do no good. Things escalate and the ADA attacks him. The guards have to stop things. 

What surprised me most was how the guards quietly revealed they're on Simon's side. And they surreptitiously make sure the full jail knows Simon was injured by the ADA's attack. It causes a stir, and the Judge winds up releasing Simon early. Everyone thinks this is great...

Only it winds up leading to murder...

Avoidance...

I did errands, today, after a surprisingly good night's sleep. Recycling now gone. Dishes all done; they'd been piling up. Got fully dressed and drove to Wegman's to get things I needed to make a hoagie and an Ambrosia salad.

Had some California Roll sushi, while there...which is a big deal for me. I'm not a sushi fan, but this looked pretty good...and was. What's even better? I ate it with chopsticks. I want to get to be good so when I'm in Hong Kong I won't embarrass myself.

What's funny is, the main thing I needed was milk. So I got all these groceries...and forgot that. Have to go out for it, tomorrow.

The hoagie turned out nice. I used a short baguette, olive oil, cheese, slices of ham and turkey, lettuce, tomato, onion, dash of red wine vinegar, and a bit of mustard...and it wound up being too big. I ate it all, but I was stuffed. Don't like that, any more. I've got some smaller rolls for any followups. Haven't made the Ambrosia, yet.

I got the physical proof of A Place of Safety-New World For Old, and it looks good. Derry is due to be delivered on Monday, even though it was shipped beforehand. No surprise.

More ideas are coming for PvSH. Simon wants to actually needle Brian more. Not just that little poem, but even write an eroticc story and post it, to see if Brian or Elissa find it. He's sixty-nine years old and doesn't give a shit...and thinks this will be fun. He just doesn't realize him having proof of his innocence won't mean all that much once the trial gets going.

Or how far the prosecution will go to come out on top.

As usual...

All that work, yesterday, for nothing. A suggestion I made two weeks ago that was tossed aside suddenly became the way to go, meaning I'm not traveling, at all. Which, in reality, is good because it was going to be a difficult situation to deal with. So part of me is relieved.

BUT...part of me is pissed off. I've never been to Oxford and wanted to go. I'd have had a day there before continuing the trip, and it's always lovely to go places on someone else's money. 

That...kicked me into into a nasty mood...which Simon was enjoying. He's taken on more of an attitude, and now actually wants to snipe at Brian Walstead instead of ignore him and his associate, Elissa. Wants to piss them off. 

Before they enter the courtroom, Brian and Elissa technically surround Simon on a bench in the hallway. Initially, I had just Brian doing this and Simon refusing to engage with him. But now? Brian brings up Simon's gay adult poetry, thinking he'll put the man on the defensive, saying:

“We can use these things against you.”

Elissa almost smiled. “They could show inclination and maybe even intent. You might have been planning to do something to Officer Paley, once you got him to your hotel.”

Simon looked at her in awe. He’d actually thought she was smart. Instead, she’s the worst aspect of a team player, who knows what’s doing is wrong but puts her intelligence aside. Brian’s made his decision and she will back him up, like a dutiful wife or victim of abuse.

He sighed and said, “I’ll give you a list of my work. It’s not just on Gay Portal. There’s Plumbr. BDSM2. Gay sections. My blog on WordPlay has some of the more palatable ones, for you. Oh, and GayTrip as well as 2Queer2, too.” 

“You’re pretty cavalier about what these could do to you, in that courtroom,” Brian said. 

“Again, pay attention. My name is on them all. That should tell you something, not just how they found them so quickly. Google me and the first one that usually comes up is The Best Way to Make a Straight Man Gay. It’s been banned a few times. People thought it was a how-to manual.” 

Elissa tried to keep her voice snotty and mean, but Simon could sense surprise behind it. “It’s not?” 

He rolled his eyes at her. “Another reason you should read my work for yourself.” He turned back to Brian, smiling, “I wrote one little ditty that would fit you perfectly. 

Big bad boy Paley decided to gloat
That he’d seen how Brian would quietly dote
On him walking by, then he’d sneer and quote,
“So, Bri, it ain’t sex if I cum down your throat.”

Brian stiffened and all but snarled, “I’m not gay.” 

“As you say.” Then he put his portfolio in his backpack. 

“Simon,” he said, his voice low and growling, “if we don’t deal, here and now, I’m aiming for jail time.” 

“I prefer to be addressed as Mr. Halloran.” 

“I mean it. Six months to a year, thanks to the special enhancement. Thousand dollar fine.” 

Simon rose, laptop in one had, backpack slung over his shoulder, saying, “It amazes me that you graduated from Harvard Law. And passed the bar. Even taking into account you were just a legacy entrant. That school has lost all my respect for it.” 

Elissa circled Simon to return to Brian’s side. “You’ve been doing your own research.”

“And it’s better than yours, obviously. Courtroom’s open. I’m going in. I prefer you both stay away from me.”

Travel used to be easy...

I spent much of today working out a plan for possibly flying to the UK, specifically to go to Oxford and Belfast, and not only is it not cheap, it's not easy. Airlines' schedules are not meant for humanity. Rental cars are like gold, even if you get a stick. Ferries are inconvenient. Hotels are double the price because it's tourist season. It's damn near impossible.

I finally settled on a complete circle of a plan--fly into London, do Oxford, hop over to Belfast then down to Dublin and back home. Airlines do, at least, offer multi-city schedules...that often work out to be cheaper than direct back and forth.

One good thing is, this led Simon to tell me he wants to be a writer...and he's interested in poetry, not narrative. At least, I don't think he wants to do narrative fiction. But the poetry he does is very brutal and...well, it's pretty much punishment. Revenge. Reimagining his life in a way that he's not always a victim but instead a hero for himself.

Some of it was published on some gay threads and ADA Walstead finds out about it. He then makes a vague threat to use it against Simon if he doesn't take a deal. Suggesting that maybe he was planning to hurt Officer Paley in some way. Get him alone and drugged kind of thing.

I'm thinking of using a long form poem I wrote and posted some time ago, as Simon's work. Freddy. It's on the raw side and could be neatened up, a bit. But it fits.

Of course, Walstead's ploy doesn't work. The one real thing Simon has going for him is he's too old to give a shit, anymore. My name is on that work. That should tell you something. Rather like me and my gay erotica. I refuse to hide it as if I'm ashamed of it. That always comes back to bite you in the ass.

But it might be interesting to make up some more poems like that, for him...

Baby steps...

PvSH is coming out in small sections. Today I worked on Simon returning home from Barrington after the trial being continued for two weeks. He's all but proven the case against him is bogus, but ADA Walstead wants time to verify the evidence he presented. Just more tricks by the DA's office to protect some lying cops. But Simon is aware enough to know this will not go well.

I'm using a situation in NYC, some years back, as inspiration. A cop was in a small wreck and blamed the driver of the other car for hitting him. The driver was arrested, booked and threatened by the DA's office over a situation that should have been handled by a written citation. He was facing a couple years in jail if he didn't take a deal.

Thing is, there was a home security camera that caught the whole thing. It showed that the cop had gone the wrong way down a one-way street, was being forced to back up by an oncoming garbage truck, and he hit a legally parked car.

What's more, the man he arrested wasn't even the driver of that car. He was in the passenger seat and had to climb over to the driver's side to get out. And what did the DA's office do when face with this evidence? Fight it...then finally just dismiss the charges. And the cops are still on the beat despite filing a false report and lying under oath, as best I can tell.

There are stories like this all over the country, so I'm no longer worried about this seeming like it's crazy or overdone. I just need to make sure it reads right,

Anyway, this part includes Simon growing depressed and stopping to take a nap in a text stop on the freeway, where he remembers why he finally accepted that his lover, Doyle, was an abuser. Which was what made him quietly move to Houston. No word to anyone about where he's going...or maybe he'll lie about it. Not sure about that, yet, but that may make more sense.

So I guess I'm going to keep writing piecemeal until it starts to blend together.