Kyle Michel Sullivan's Blog: https://www.myirishnovel.com/, page 5

Shifting details

Simon doesn't want to do any poems or ditties, as I call them. He feels to do so would be shallow and pathetic. BUT...Adam is taking them and using them to describe some of the men who sexually abused him when he was in a foster home. He's young and keeps a journal and they're in it, with odd little sketches of each man.

He starts out using their real names, but that gets him into serious trouble with the snake who's pimping him. The man was told by another boy about Adam's writings, so searched his room to find it, then seriously beat Adam once it was found. Money he'd saved was taken, as well.

However, Adam soon realizes the pimp kept the book and is using it as blackmail, to protect himself and his racket. He fosters orphan boys and kids kicked out of their homes for being gay, like Adam was. On the state dime.

He's got corrupt, hypocritical politicians, businessmen, priests and NGO heads backing him in anything he wants to do...in exchange for his silence and continued access to the boys.

Corruption is nothing new or even recent, in politics. Ulysses S Grant supposedly had the most corrupt administration in US history, until the current Felon in Chief. Warren G. Harding wasn't exactly a saint when it came to business deals, while Nixon wasn't so much venal as just plain in love with power.

So...Dair's Window already has a sort of structure in place. Part One telling about Adam through his time with Dair, before he dies. Part Two is Adam watching over Dair like a guardian angel and seeing how horribly he's being treated by his parents, who sue him for half his wealth because they claim Adam helped him make it.

The story is going to end in 2008, with the backlash against Proposition 8, in California, that's spreading. I want to be able to reference touchstones in the fight for equality. But the beginning is going to focus on Adam and his developing poetry, shifting to serious as he rides the trans-Canadian train from Toronto to Vancouver...and how he eventually uses it as a way to avoid his growing feelings for Dair.

Adam's poetry...

He's trying some things out...and I'm too tired from shifting boxes, this morning, and driving to just outside Elizabeth NJ to really focus. But here's a taste...

----

Adam's Poem 
To invite GraysonTo my room In the hotel For celebration only. Our bond of work to seal... 
Long days.Ten-thousand words.But all was nowCarved in stoneAnd we knewOur lives had steered
To a fresh, new time of joySo savor itA moment longerWith GrayAloneNot call my wifeTo say our dreams had been made real.
Nought but me asking,“Bourbon or Scotch?”When he took my beltAnd drew me back to himTo encase me in a beauty hat bring about thingsWhich should not have been done...Even as the world cheered.

Awareness comes...

I haven't really thought much about this, except in a peripheral fashion, but when I refused to change the title of How to Rape a Straight Guy to get it published, I had really, deep down, stopped giving a fuck.

It was strictly on a subconscious level. I still huffed and puffed and fretted and worried and wondered, consciously...but reality is, that is when I began writing books that were not part of the mainstream and actually caused offense to some people. And I didn't stop. DDC is just the latest variation of that.

People didn't like my work? That's fine. It still felt bad...but when my screenwriting was criticized, it could make me want to quit writing and return to art. And take me time to regain my ability to look past the critique and find something to use out of it.

Unless, of course, the criticism was over the top. Like one self-important ass who rewrote my script, Find Ray T, line by line to prove to me I didn't know how to write a screenplay, and all he did was make me laugh.

But despite my whining and complaining and grandiose statements since HTRASG came out...I've had strength and certainty enough to continue down this path. Even on the occasions where I was still damaged. Sometimes slowly. Often awkwardly. But not backing down. Because deep within, I did not give a fuck.

I still have manners enough not to force my ways onto people, and I remain human enough to want praise instead of dismissal or condescension about my writing...but it took me till I was 55 years old to get to the point where not getting it wouldn't derail me.

When coming from someone else. When it comes from my characters, I still can get really fucked up. But that's family...

Simon the Huff...

The drive down to Baltimore was helpful in one way. Simon let me know he's not ready to share his story with me, yet. He still isn't sure about me. Which I'm fine with. He can come forth when he feels the time is right. I've finally learned when I try to force a story to happen, it turns out like crap. But he could have let me know this earlier...

I also decided I don't want to do any more on Blood Angel, right now. I just finished what is, effectively, a 100K word novel dealing with men being raped, killed and made into diner fare for the universe by a jokey asshole, and just don't feel like doing any more. Dirc's novella and book took a lot of that out of me.

I am beginning to have some back-and-forth with Adam, from Dair's Window. Discussing how to handle his history up to the point where he dies...and then being the teller of Dair's story as he tries to rebuild his life. It's set in 2002 to 2010...and is hinting towards having a third part, with Dair's life inFairview as an out gay lad and his travels in Europe studying stained glass windows. Not sure that's really needed, yet.

And there's Adam's poetry. Does he get elegant and poetic as he talks of his own life and Dair's? I don't know if I can pull off the poetry aspect, and I do not want Adam to be a delusional fool about himself.

It's not going to be as expansive as Brendan's story in APoS so should fit easily into one volume. Like what I did with Bobby Carapisi. That initially came out as 3 volumes but when I got the rights back from that publisher I aligned them all into one book.

So it seems I did get some benefit from this journey. It wasn't a bad drive. I've been up and down it, before, but there's been new construction and road links arranged, so I had to use GPS a couple times to make sure I stayed on course. Took 7 hours, almost to the minute.

Now I'm ensconced in a room at a Quality Inn, that doesn't have a number on the door, no hangers, and a tiny bathroom. Wild.

Finalizing...

All set for tomorrow's trip. Not really looking forward to it, but it's short and I'm driving so have flexibility I wouldn't have by flying. And the good thing about driving is my mind goes into reboot or recharge mode and I might be able to figure out what I want to do, next.

Suddenly I've been thinking about The Alice '65 and shifting it back into a screenplay. Why? No idea. I don't really know how to write scripts that get sold, and towards the end of my writing them working up one that would even do well in competitions. I never did write according to Syd Field or Save the Cat kind of nonsense, and I think it put readers off.

I had a lot of fun with DDC...and now sort of want to do something...I dunno, not meaningful, really. A story that sets out to drag you into their view of the world does not interest me. They're usually overbearing, and I don't like them. Nor do I have the talent to make it work, even if I did try to do it.

It's just, while I'm still sort of thinking about Simon's Murder...it remains as a very quiet story in my head, to the point I didn't like the title being along the lines of The Murder of a Quiet Man because it was too obvious. I'm not writing a murder mystery, with that story, so not sure how it would come together.

There's Dair's Window lurking in the background. And coming back from Baltimore, I'd pass through Corning and could hop by the glass museum, again. Even though I've been there three times, already. But see if it juices me up.

One project that's nudging me is making an inventory of my books. I don't have a list of them, in case something should happen and I need to replace them. Which is a thought. I do have one for my DVDs, just so I won't accidentally buy one I already have a copy of.

I dunno...we'll see what tomorrow brings.

DDC is uploaded...

 

Dirc and the Dyarvos Cafe is now officially available for sale in ebook, for 99¢. Complete and total. And I feel good about it. I made some changes to the cover, as seen here, and it was accepted by Smashwords, only, through D2D. No other ebook retailer would touch it.

Not that I blame them. It really is an amoral story with a lot of non-con sex. But I enjoyed writing it and seeing it develop and it turned out just as it should have.

The morning was taken up by changing healthcare plans from United to Aetna. I can do that, even outside the enrollment period due to special circumstances.

I'm also recovering from a very rough time at Quest, where the person drawing blood was flat out inept. She tried both arms before using a big needle instead of the butterfly one on my hand to fill the vials, and it hurt. I have bruising and the crook of my left arm is still tender. This is unusual; normally it's easy in and out.

On top of this, it took a lot of effort to get a contact number for the Baltimore job. Which had to do because the people at the office demanded it or they'd call everything off. I don't like it when things get tense, like that.

Tomorrow is prepping the last of everything for my drive, Sunday. I'm taking carrots, cucumbers and Ranch dressing to nibble on as I go, as well as a couple sandwiches and bottles of DPZ. No crackers or nuts. I'm down to 230 lbs and want to keep losing.

The great thing is, my A1c is on the downswing so no Ozempic.

Wrap it up...

I'm at the point where I'm changing the to a to an, and that's my sign to stop the rewrite of Dirc and the Dyarvos Cafe and put the sucker out. I will do so, tomorrow, once I have a re-think about the cover. I feel like it needs a bit more in the visuals, so we'll see.

I'm so happy with how it turned out, I'm surprised at myself. And a bit worried. Whenever I feel like this I wind up learning it's really crap or has issues I've neglected...but reality is, it's a solid story with action, adventure, Beautiful men, sex, love, romance, violence, revenge, humor, social commentary, and a fair amount of irreverent attitude. Dirc turned out to be a real character...and I like him.

 I wonder if I could do something like this with a mainstream story? With Simon's story. Have everything in it in a sort of smorgasbord of telling? No idea. It seems too rooted in meaningfulness. Which can be a real weight on a novel.

That almost happened with Bobby Carapisi. It's a dark story with the title character committing suicide halfway through after being destroyed by society's reaction to learning he's been raped. But I included Moritz, a wild, overly-dramatic Hollywood queen who supports the main character, Eric, throughout as comedy relief. And the story becomes about Eric's evolution from a victim to a man back in control of his life in a far more complete way.

That was something that wasn't planned, as I wrote it. I published it in three volumes, the last of which I've had people tell me was unnecessary. Because it focused on Allan and why he became the monster he was. But to me, I needed it to find completion.

Well...let's see what comes up next. I never really know what my next project will be until I'm into it. Should be fun.

Better days...

I got a lot done on DDC. May finish this pass, tonight. It's up over 85K in wordage but more consistent and snottier and I only have four more chapters to go.

I don't know where this attitude is coming from. But Dirc has zero concern for what he's doing to men he doesn't know...as well as a couple he does. His actions are really quite evil...but he's a nice guy. Smart. Clever, even. So I think he's sympathetic, for a monstrous rapist.

He saves Irin's life...as well as those of a couple other guys. Even converts a few men over to his way. Commits murder against a Federal Agent who tortured him. And winds up with an HEA. All completely opposite to the Judeo-Christian attitude of crime deserves punishment.

I guess having agents from Area 51 do torturous testing on him and Irin is a sort of punishment. Seems his time with Dyarvos has altered his DNA to make him a superior human, and they want to know how and why. He even gets a chance to rape his own clone, putting reality to the phrase, Go fuck yourself.

God, sometimes I can be so screwed up....

Anyway, that's why I cast this as Sci-Fi/Horror. With horror you can get away with so much more, and I don't want anyone walking into this thinking it's going to be a fun, simple fuck-fest...

Even though it is.

Feeling a lot better, obviously. It's amazing what chocolate cake with chocolate frosting will do for your sense of being. Fucks up my blood sugar, but worth it.

Not my happiest day...

I got three immunizations, yesterday -- Covid 19, flu and RSV -- and I thought I was handling it fine. A bit achy, slightly feverish. But damn, today I was so fucking tired. I slept till noon and still needed a nap. And each time I got up I was groggy as hell. And a bit off-balance. I'm not completely back to normal, but at least it seems to be lessening.

It's just, when I get like this I don't want to do anything. I need milk, but couldn't talk myself into going out for it. Recycling is overflowing but that means I'd have to take it down to the bins. My back is not comfortable, nor is my gut. What I ate for lunch and dinner I didn't like. I was a nasty old man.

Fortunately, Dave Rich posted some new images on Instagram. For some reason he helps center me. Calm me. I don't know why. Chris Evans make me happy but Dave brings me a form of...I dunno...peace, I guess.

So tomorrow, I will go out for milk. I could now, but that means getting dressed and presentable for public. Still...for tomorrow's breakfast, I could get an almond croissant. Or maybe a slice of chocolate fudge cake. I can't stop thinking about that, lately. I dunno.

I did manage to get myself to work on Dirc and the Dyarvos Cafe, and am up to chapter eleven out of thirty-two...but it was difficult. I focused on finding typos and missing words, or the wrong word used. Like feat instead of fear, kind of thing.

I like how the book comes across as a real novel. Hell, it IS a real novel. Just lots of mm sex in it. Most of which is non-con. And I'm sure the pseudo-Christianists will do all they can to ban books like mine, so why bother? But I do.

Today was supposed to be the rapture. Nothing on the news, yet, but I did hear someone claim it might be tomorrow. We can only hope. I know I got no chance of being caught up, but God it would be nice to be rid of those people.

First try at a cover...

And I kind of like it...a bit abstract yet telling. But is it too plain?

Storyline: Continuing from Dirc and the Dyarvos Bones.

No one believes an extraterrestrial named Dyarvos brought Dirc back to life after a cop killed him, because the damned thing deserted him. Now Dirc's been found guilty of raping and murdering dozens of men, and he's being transported to San Quentin when Dyarvos returns with new plans.

Turns out human males are worth more than Dyarvos thought. Dirc's joyous preparation of the men he'd supplied for the creature's space craft apparently made them not only better suited as fuel but even tastier as food...a real delicacy. So it wants to open up an intergalactic cafe for space travelers, and it wants Dirc to be one of its suppliers. 

He is happy to go along, despite the betrayal and Dyarvos' casual disregard for his feelings...because it'll make him rich. Filthy rich. Rich enough to never have to deal with assholes trying to fuck him over, again.

But first, he needs to get done with that system of justice that wants to execute him...not to mention evade Federal Agents from Area 51 who want to run some pretty vicious tests on him to understand why his DNA has altered. It's going to be a real adventure of a journey.

And along the way, he may even find love with an old friend...Irin, whom Dyarvos had apparently prepped to take his place. The damned thing.

But hey, all's fair in love, war, and business...