B. MacGregor's Blog
January 6, 2014
Happy New Year
Wishing everyone a fabulous 2014!
December 16, 2013
You���ll Have a Gay Old Time ��� Bedtime Stories Come Out of the Closet in MacGregor's Novel by Laura Pieper
In B MacGregor's debut novel "A Fag for Her Fifties" the author uses his pen to wage war on a word once used to belittle his sexual orientation. He turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand. Published by AnyWho Editions, it’s a tale readers will relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
By Laura Pieper
What’s in a word?
Homosexuals and heterosexuals alike shudder at the word “fag.” It’s a derogatory term meant to belittle homosexuals. Except when you travel to Great Britain, where a “fag” is a cigarette, or a noun or verb associated with an annoying task; nothing rude or inflammatory about that.
A word is defined by how we relate to it. So what happens when you turn a definition on its head?
You get a book like B MacGregor’s “A Fag for Her Fifties.”
If you have already seen the title in the bookstore or Amazon, I’m willing to bet the title made you wrinkle your nose in distaste and think, “who on earth would want to read THAT?”
I had those same misgivings myself when I first saw the pink, flowery cover with that horrid word in the title.
But this time a fag isn’t a fag – he’s a Fag. Work with me on this one.
MacGregor, a former Iowa resident, used the novel as an outlet to show off his pride of being a gay man, after being belittled for his sexual orientation for many years. He was labeled a fag in high school and didn’t like it.
While many homosexuals stand aside and grumble at their stereotyping, MacGregor has a weapon to wage war on words: a pen. As an author, he can rewrite history if he wants to, and that’s just what he does in “A Fag for Her Fifties” – he turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand.
“If I can redefine a word, then I can redefine other things too,” MacGregor writes in the author’s note. “So, I think this story is about redefining life – if you choose to.”
What’s in a story?
While “A Fag for Her Fifties” is a lesson in bringing Fag-ness back (so to speak), the tale originated as a gift for one of MacGregor’s closest friends. She wanted him to tell her a bedtime story.
“To me, a good bedtime story is like a good drag queen; one-third fantasy, one-third adventure, one-third comedy, and one hundred percent about love,” MacGregor writes in the preface, throwing it out to the world that this book is going to be Fag-tastically unique. “Unlike a good drag queen, the tale should focus on someone else.”
The narrator unconsciously struggles with this notion throughout the novel. It’s all about him and his over-the-top Fag-adelic personality and his drive to have a fan base – even if it’s just one person. The narrator, B, is a bankrupt children’s author from San Francisco who answers a Craigslist ad for a woman seeking to become a gay man. Wait…what?
“Give me a different way to see my world,” Beulah Mae Osguard writes in her ad. “Show me the gay side. Bring out the Fag in me.”
In her eyes, gay men are proud of their status and not afraid to flaunt their wares or say exactly what they mean. She has found herself “wrapped tightly in a dull and boring life – her closet,” in a loveless marriage in a small Iowa town full of larger-than-life nosy neighbors.
The message is this: everyone has a closet, and a time to come out of that closet. It takes courage and self-confidence. It means being true to yourself, choosing you over everyone else. In Beulah Mae’s case, that means standing up for herself, her values, and what she wants out of life.
“There’s something sexy and wonderful about a woman who thinks she deserves better things,” the narrator says. “There’s something gorgeous about a woman who realizes she’s worth it.”
For someone like Beulah Mae, who is selfless to a fault, doing something for herself is a daunting, terrifying task after being a generous doormat for most of her life. B respects her selflessness and devotion to making others happy – he gives her the nickname “Charity” – but recognizes that she needs a morale boost to let her true colors shine. He does this in as colorful and hilarious a way as only a true Fag can, with disco dancing parties, a Pretty Woman makeover, and even a smack-down fight between a fat, fluffy transvestite dog and a Chihuahua.
B’s narration overflows with wit and biting sarcasm. MacGregor flawlessly captures B’s internal battle between being a diva – having the world worship him in all his Fag-tastic glory – and letting go of his own fears of being forever alone. While their friendship begins with Beulah Mae wanting to learn from B, in the end it’s B himself who learns from Beulah Mae. He finally commits one selfless act in a bittersweet ending that reminds us life goes on even after the “happily ever after.”
Following the bedtime story theme, MacGregor weaves his own takes on popular fairy tales and children’s stories throughout the book. Each chapter begins with a brief retelling of such classics as Sleeping Beauty or Peter Pan or even Lord of the Rings – all with a wickedly Fag-gy twist. And each chapter also includes a “once upon a time” story that recalls Beulah’s original Fag transformation as she struggles to stand on her own once and for all in a situation where many others would simply give up and crawl back, defeated, into their closets.
Each of B’s stories is a “fragment of time that enables her to escape temporarily into the past, a place where she’s free.”
A place where dreams come true, friends are forever, and no good deed goes unpunished. It’s a tale we can all relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
“A Fag for Her Fifties” is available in both print and electronic editions. E-books can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks Store and other venues. To purchase a print edition directly or to find a bookstore, visit AnyWho Edition's website, anywhoeditions.com.
By Laura Pieper
What’s in a word?
Homosexuals and heterosexuals alike shudder at the word “fag.” It’s a derogatory term meant to belittle homosexuals. Except when you travel to Great Britain, where a “fag” is a cigarette, or a noun or verb associated with an annoying task; nothing rude or inflammatory about that.
A word is defined by how we relate to it. So what happens when you turn a definition on its head?
You get a book like B MacGregor’s “A Fag for Her Fifties.”
If you have already seen the title in the bookstore or Amazon, I’m willing to bet the title made you wrinkle your nose in distaste and think, “who on earth would want to read THAT?”
I had those same misgivings myself when I first saw the pink, flowery cover with that horrid word in the title.
But this time a fag isn’t a fag – he’s a Fag. Work with me on this one.
MacGregor, a former Iowa resident, used the novel as an outlet to show off his pride of being a gay man, after being belittled for his sexual orientation for many years. He was labeled a fag in high school and didn’t like it.
While many homosexuals stand aside and grumble at their stereotyping, MacGregor has a weapon to wage war on words: a pen. As an author, he can rewrite history if he wants to, and that’s just what he does in “A Fag for Her Fifties” – he turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand.
“If I can redefine a word, then I can redefine other things too,” MacGregor writes in the author’s note. “So, I think this story is about redefining life – if you choose to.”
What’s in a story?
While “A Fag for Her Fifties” is a lesson in bringing Fag-ness back (so to speak), the tale originated as a gift for one of MacGregor’s closest friends. She wanted him to tell her a bedtime story.
“To me, a good bedtime story is like a good drag queen; one-third fantasy, one-third adventure, one-third comedy, and one hundred percent about love,” MacGregor writes in the preface, throwing it out to the world that this book is going to be Fag-tastically unique. “Unlike a good drag queen, the tale should focus on someone else.”
The narrator unconsciously struggles with this notion throughout the novel. It’s all about him and his over-the-top Fag-adelic personality and his drive to have a fan base – even if it’s just one person. The narrator, B, is a bankrupt children’s author from San Francisco who answers a Craigslist ad for a woman seeking to become a gay man. Wait…what?
“Give me a different way to see my world,” Beulah Mae Osguard writes in her ad. “Show me the gay side. Bring out the Fag in me.”
In her eyes, gay men are proud of their status and not afraid to flaunt their wares or say exactly what they mean. She has found herself “wrapped tightly in a dull and boring life – her closet,” in a loveless marriage in a small Iowa town full of larger-than-life nosy neighbors.
The message is this: everyone has a closet, and a time to come out of that closet. It takes courage and self-confidence. It means being true to yourself, choosing you over everyone else. In Beulah Mae’s case, that means standing up for herself, her values, and what she wants out of life.
“There’s something sexy and wonderful about a woman who thinks she deserves better things,” the narrator says. “There’s something gorgeous about a woman who realizes she’s worth it.”
For someone like Beulah Mae, who is selfless to a fault, doing something for herself is a daunting, terrifying task after being a generous doormat for most of her life. B respects her selflessness and devotion to making others happy – he gives her the nickname “Charity” – but recognizes that she needs a morale boost to let her true colors shine. He does this in as colorful and hilarious a way as only a true Fag can, with disco dancing parties, a Pretty Woman makeover, and even a smack-down fight between a fat, fluffy transvestite dog and a Chihuahua.
B’s narration overflows with wit and biting sarcasm. MacGregor flawlessly captures B’s internal battle between being a diva – having the world worship him in all his Fag-tastic glory – and letting go of his own fears of being forever alone. While their friendship begins with Beulah Mae wanting to learn from B, in the end it’s B himself who learns from Beulah Mae. He finally commits one selfless act in a bittersweet ending that reminds us life goes on even after the “happily ever after.”
Following the bedtime story theme, MacGregor weaves his own takes on popular fairy tales and children’s stories throughout the book. Each chapter begins with a brief retelling of such classics as Sleeping Beauty or Peter Pan or even Lord of the Rings – all with a wickedly Fag-gy twist. And each chapter also includes a “once upon a time” story that recalls Beulah’s original Fag transformation as she struggles to stand on her own once and for all in a situation where many others would simply give up and crawl back, defeated, into their closets.
Each of B’s stories is a “fragment of time that enables her to escape temporarily into the past, a place where she’s free.”
A place where dreams come true, friends are forever, and no good deed goes unpunished. It’s a tale we can all relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
“A Fag for Her Fifties” is available in both print and electronic editions. E-books can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks Store and other venues. To purchase a print edition directly or to find a bookstore, visit AnyWho Edition's website, anywhoeditions.com.
You’ll Have a Gay Old Time – Bedtime Stories Come Out of the Closet in MacGregor's Novel by Laura Pieper
In B MacGregor's debut novel "A Fag for Her Fifties" the author uses his pen to wage war on a word once used to belittle his sexual orientation. He turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand. Published by AnyWho Editions, it’s a tale readers will relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
By Laura Pieper
What’s in a word?
Homosexuals and heterosexuals alike shudder at the word “fag.” It’s a derogatory term meant to belittle homosexuals. Except when you travel to Great Britain, where a “fag” is a cigarette, or a noun or verb associated with an annoying task; nothing rude or inflammatory about that.
A word is defined by how we relate to it. So what happens when you turn a definition on its head?
You get a book like B MacGregor’s “A Fag for Her Fifties.”
If you have already seen the title in the bookstore or Amazon, I’m willing to bet the title made you wrinkle your nose in distaste and think, “who on earth would want to read THAT?”
I had those same misgivings myself when I first saw the pink, flowery cover with that horrid word in the title.
But this time a fag isn’t a fag – he’s a Fag. Work with me on this one.
MacGregor, a former Iowa resident, used the novel as an outlet to show off his pride of being a gay man, after being belittled for his sexual orientation for many years. He was labeled a fag in high school and didn’t like it.
While many homosexuals stand aside and grumble at their stereotyping, MacGregor has a weapon to wage war on words: a pen. As an author, he can rewrite history if he wants to, and that’s just what he does in “A Fag for Her Fifties” – he turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand.
“If I can redefine a word, then I can redefine other things too,” MacGregor writes in the author’s note. “So, I think this story is about redefining life – if you choose to.”
What’s in a story?
While “A Fag for Her Fifties” is a lesson in bringing Fag-ness back (so to speak), the tale originated as a gift for one of MacGregor’s closest friends. She wanted him to tell her a bedtime story.
“To me, a good bedtime story is like a good drag queen; one-third fantasy, one-third adventure, one-third comedy, and one hundred percent about love,” MacGregor writes in the preface, throwing it out to the world that this book is going to be Fag-tastically unique. “Unlike a good drag queen, the tale should focus on someone else.”
The narrator unconsciously struggles with this notion throughout the novel. It’s all about him and his over-the-top Fag-adelic personality and his drive to have a fan base – even if it’s just one person. The narrator, B, is a bankrupt children’s author from San Francisco who answers a Craigslist ad for a woman seeking to become a gay man. Wait…what?
“Give me a different way to see my world,” Beulah Mae Osguard writes in her ad. “Show me the gay side. Bring out the Fag in me.”
In her eyes, gay men are proud of their status and not afraid to flaunt their wares or say exactly what they mean. She has found herself “wrapped tightly in a dull and boring life – her closet,” in a loveless marriage in a small Iowa town full of larger-than-life nosy neighbors.
The message is this: everyone has a closet, and a time to come out of that closet. It takes courage and self-confidence. It means being true to yourself, choosing you over everyone else. In Beulah Mae’s case, that means standing up for herself, her values, and what she wants out of life.
“There’s something sexy and wonderful about a woman who thinks she deserves better things,” the narrator says. “There’s something gorgeous about a woman who realizes she’s worth it.”
For someone like Beulah Mae, who is selfless to a fault, doing something for herself is a daunting, terrifying task after being a generous doormat for most of her life. B respects her selflessness and devotion to making others happy – he gives her the nickname “Charity” – but recognizes that she needs a morale boost to let her true colors shine. He does this in as colorful and hilarious a way as only a true Fag can, with disco dancing parties, a Pretty Woman makeover, and even a smack-down fight between a fat, fluffy transvestite dog and a Chihuahua.
B’s narration overflows with wit and biting sarcasm. MacGregor flawlessly captures B’s internal battle between being a diva – having the world worship him in all his Fag-tastic glory – and letting go of his own fears of being forever alone. While their friendship begins with Beulah Mae wanting to learn from B, in the end it’s B himself who learns from Beulah Mae. He finally commits one selfless act in a bittersweet ending that reminds us life goes on even after the “happily ever after.”
Following the bedtime story theme, MacGregor weaves his own takes on popular fairy tales and children’s stories throughout the book. Each chapter begins with a brief retelling of such classics as Sleeping Beauty or Peter Pan or even Lord of the Rings – all with a wickedly Fag-gy twist. And each chapter also includes a “once upon a time” story that recalls Beulah’s original Fag transformation as she struggles to stand on her own once and for all in a situation where many others would simply give up and crawl back, defeated, into their closets.
Each of B’s stories is a “fragment of time that enables her to escape temporarily into the past, a place where she’s free.”
A place where dreams come true, friends are forever, and no good deed goes unpunished. It’s a tale we can all relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
“A Fag for Her Fifties” is available in both print and electronic editions. E-books can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks Store and other venues. To purchase a print edition directly or to find a bookstore, visit AnyWho Edition's website, anywhoeditions.com.
By Laura Pieper
What’s in a word?
Homosexuals and heterosexuals alike shudder at the word “fag.” It’s a derogatory term meant to belittle homosexuals. Except when you travel to Great Britain, where a “fag” is a cigarette, or a noun or verb associated with an annoying task; nothing rude or inflammatory about that.
A word is defined by how we relate to it. So what happens when you turn a definition on its head?
You get a book like B MacGregor’s “A Fag for Her Fifties.”
If you have already seen the title in the bookstore or Amazon, I’m willing to bet the title made you wrinkle your nose in distaste and think, “who on earth would want to read THAT?”
I had those same misgivings myself when I first saw the pink, flowery cover with that horrid word in the title.
But this time a fag isn’t a fag – he’s a Fag. Work with me on this one.
MacGregor, a former Iowa resident, used the novel as an outlet to show off his pride of being a gay man, after being belittled for his sexual orientation for many years. He was labeled a fag in high school and didn’t like it.
While many homosexuals stand aside and grumble at their stereotyping, MacGregor has a weapon to wage war on words: a pen. As an author, he can rewrite history if he wants to, and that’s just what he does in “A Fag for Her Fifties” – he turns “fag” into “Fag,” a deliciously flamboyant fairy godmother-like gay man who parades his Fag-aliciousness with pride and changes one woman’s life for the better with the flick of his sequin-covered, pink boa-lined wand.
“If I can redefine a word, then I can redefine other things too,” MacGregor writes in the author’s note. “So, I think this story is about redefining life – if you choose to.”
What’s in a story?
While “A Fag for Her Fifties” is a lesson in bringing Fag-ness back (so to speak), the tale originated as a gift for one of MacGregor’s closest friends. She wanted him to tell her a bedtime story.
“To me, a good bedtime story is like a good drag queen; one-third fantasy, one-third adventure, one-third comedy, and one hundred percent about love,” MacGregor writes in the preface, throwing it out to the world that this book is going to be Fag-tastically unique. “Unlike a good drag queen, the tale should focus on someone else.”
The narrator unconsciously struggles with this notion throughout the novel. It’s all about him and his over-the-top Fag-adelic personality and his drive to have a fan base – even if it’s just one person. The narrator, B, is a bankrupt children’s author from San Francisco who answers a Craigslist ad for a woman seeking to become a gay man. Wait…what?
“Give me a different way to see my world,” Beulah Mae Osguard writes in her ad. “Show me the gay side. Bring out the Fag in me.”
In her eyes, gay men are proud of their status and not afraid to flaunt their wares or say exactly what they mean. She has found herself “wrapped tightly in a dull and boring life – her closet,” in a loveless marriage in a small Iowa town full of larger-than-life nosy neighbors.
The message is this: everyone has a closet, and a time to come out of that closet. It takes courage and self-confidence. It means being true to yourself, choosing you over everyone else. In Beulah Mae’s case, that means standing up for herself, her values, and what she wants out of life.
“There’s something sexy and wonderful about a woman who thinks she deserves better things,” the narrator says. “There’s something gorgeous about a woman who realizes she’s worth it.”
For someone like Beulah Mae, who is selfless to a fault, doing something for herself is a daunting, terrifying task after being a generous doormat for most of her life. B respects her selflessness and devotion to making others happy – he gives her the nickname “Charity” – but recognizes that she needs a morale boost to let her true colors shine. He does this in as colorful and hilarious a way as only a true Fag can, with disco dancing parties, a Pretty Woman makeover, and even a smack-down fight between a fat, fluffy transvestite dog and a Chihuahua.
B’s narration overflows with wit and biting sarcasm. MacGregor flawlessly captures B’s internal battle between being a diva – having the world worship him in all his Fag-tastic glory – and letting go of his own fears of being forever alone. While their friendship begins with Beulah Mae wanting to learn from B, in the end it’s B himself who learns from Beulah Mae. He finally commits one selfless act in a bittersweet ending that reminds us life goes on even after the “happily ever after.”
Following the bedtime story theme, MacGregor weaves his own takes on popular fairy tales and children’s stories throughout the book. Each chapter begins with a brief retelling of such classics as Sleeping Beauty or Peter Pan or even Lord of the Rings – all with a wickedly Fag-gy twist. And each chapter also includes a “once upon a time” story that recalls Beulah’s original Fag transformation as she struggles to stand on her own once and for all in a situation where many others would simply give up and crawl back, defeated, into their closets.
Each of B’s stories is a “fragment of time that enables her to escape temporarily into the past, a place where she’s free.”
A place where dreams come true, friends are forever, and no good deed goes unpunished. It’s a tale we can all relate to, whether we call ourselves Fags or call others fags, and whether we are standing in the dark with our hand on the closet doorknob, or if we’re unintentionally holding the door closed on someone else.
“A Fag for Her Fifties” is available in both print and electronic editions. E-books can be purchased at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks Store and other venues. To purchase a print edition directly or to find a bookstore, visit AnyWho Edition's website, anywhoeditions.com.
December 11, 2013
The Power of a Word
My least favorite word was Fag. So you can imagine I received a bit of concern about the title of the book. It invoked whispers. However, I knew it was the right word and the right title. Back in my political heyday as a sociologist, one of the social movements was to take back words by empowering the community to own the most damaging of hate words. Once the community owns the word, then there’s very little the words can do to inspire fear or condemnation.
November 27, 2013
A Thanksgiving Treat
“… It was Thanksgiving. November. The end of fall. Iowa can be so bittersweet in the heart of autumn. Sweet from the bounty. Bitter from the encroaching cold. There is nothing more nostalgic and traditional than celebrating Thanksgiving in Iowa. The state heralded as the great cornucopia of tradition and the cradle of Midwest standards—the storefront of America and our fleeting ideals. Here I was, a gay man, in the middle of it all, with my bankruptcy finally final. I was financially a free man with not a single penny to my name or point on my credit report. Yet, I was thankful. Perhaps the most thankful I’d ever been… all because I had a home. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was home, in a house that I built, both inside and out.
“I wanna be like you…. B.” You whispered, standing in the street surveying the autumn harvest glamour wreath hanging on the large double doors to our home. The garland of maple leaves perfectly contrasted the mustard yellow color of the door frame. The Indian corn wreath would have inspired even Sacajawea to change her name to Pop Secret. It was popping—awe-inspiring—too large for words.
“I know. I impress me too from time to time… that is, when I’m not drunk or concentrating too hard.” I smiled. You laughed and shivered in the cold. Your cream sweater, camel wool pants, and auburn knee-high boots didn’t properly protect you from the encroaching cold. A snowflake floated downward, followed by a few million of its closest friends. That’s when I noticed how different you appeared, very different from when we’d first met. Your hair was longer and softer, framed under falling snow. You wore contacts. Lost weight. Even expanded your reach from camouflage to off-the-rack designer wear.
Your face had changed too. It was thinner, and lips less torn. The scars melted away every time you smiled and laughed. It’s probably like those other body parts you now exercise daily. This past year was different. You smiled and laughed all the time, not because you anticipated something funny in the future. You laughed because you enjoyed the present. " Excerpt from A Fag for Her Fifties
November 15, 2013
See N Say
A little teaser, from a favorite A Fag for Her Fifties chapter, "Shitty, Shitty Bang Bang" - featuring one of my favorite toys!“I remember several years ago, cleaning out my mother’s house. I’d just moved her to the nursing home and was trying to get it ready to put on the market. There I was, sorting through her attic, just like we’re doing to mine now, wondering if I would ever find Mr. Purple Pony. Now, I found him, stored away with all of my other childhood toys. I can’t believe he survived all these years.”
You paused, gazing into the buttonhole eyes of Mr. Purple Pony. “Those years were particularly difficult. Watching my mother slowly forget all about me and my childhood. It was hard for me… not so much for her. Can’t miss what you forget.”
I pictured you in your mother’s house moving boxes of memories, sorting through everything important in your lives. I imagined how hard it had to have been to assess the world of souvenirs and junk, struggling to decide which ones to keep. Must have emotionally scarred you. The most difficult thing in the entire world, watching your childhood disappear before a mother’s eyes… alone.
I suddenly wanted to kiss Mr. Purple Pony too. What a sad and painful thing for my dear friend to suffer through without the comfort of love shielding her. It must have been awful to see the only person who remembered your childhood simply forget. Underneath, you have to wonder: are you next? Will Al and his Heimers skip over you, or will they take you with them on their psychedelic ride of dementia? I’m glad you were there, Mr. Purple Pony. You were a rancid little trooper.
“What other dead toys are in that cardboard casket?” I’m sorry. It was a mean thing to say, but I had to shock us back to the filthy reality of the task at hand. Sorry Mr. Purple Pony, but time to put the stale reminders of our past away. Time to get back to a Midwestern work ethic.
“I don’t know. Let’s see.” You flung open the box to explore the rest of your childhood. Layers of dust floated to the floor. Your eyes grew large, like a brooch on a queen mother. “Oh my!” squealing with delight. “It’s my See N Say.”
I gasped like a big ol’, giddy girl. “See N Say?! Oh my God! Which one?”
“The Bee.”
“The Alphabet!” I ran to it, knocking you over in the process and sending you tumbling to the side. By the way, sorry about the Super Bowl Sunday move, but girl, it was See N Say—a toy that’s all but left the planet. Once I had my tight little hands on the retro toy, I instantly positioned the pointer and pulled the Chatty Cathy string. “G… Girl.”
The toy read us.
I amused myself like it was the latest edition of a Blue Boy magazine. Meanwhile you continued digging through the dusty box. “Okay… so something besides the See N Say and Mr. Purple Pony. For future reference, he’s not really a pony. He started off as a unicorn but Skippy, our family dog, ate his horn off. We’re both a bit sensitive about it, aren’t we, Mr. Purple Pony?”
“V… Violin.” Fisher Price told you that we really didn’t care how Mr. Pony lost his phallic symbol. It eventually happens to us all. But I did like how Mr. See N Say Bee was able to carry on a very emotive and expressive, sarcastic gay conversation.
You fumbled through the worthless remains of your yesteryear. “Let’s see, Barbie dolls.” Pulled your head out of the allergen hive to look at me. “What? You’re not going to plow me over to get at my Barbie dolls?”
I pulled the string. “F… Fish.” Nothing more to say—was there?
“Just assumed all gay boys wanted to play with Barbie.”
Another pull of the string, “Q… Queen...”
“Not …” I had to speak. The See N Say Bee didn’t have the alphabetical vocabulary necessary to create conjunctions. Opting to reserve his vocabulary for nouns.
“B… Boy.” In other words, I was a queen, not a school yard boy. I grew out of my Barbie fetish a long time ago.
“Just because you’re older? That’s convenient. Age didn’t prevent you from bulldozing me over to get at my See N Say.” The Bee was silent, no embittered or cynical words in its alphabetic vocabulary to explain my rabid moment of nostalgia. Apparently, I struggled with separation anxiety over Fisher Price.
You returned to digging in the graveyard of abandoned childhood toys. Eventually, you withdrew a large wooden box. “That’s odd… what’s this?”
The box was ornately carved, fit for a princess with lots and lots of bling. “I wonder what’s in here. I don’t remember this at all.” You flipped the clasp on the box. It jiggled, wiggled and tumbled from your arms. A small black handgun fell out, hit the floor and discharged.
Envision, if you will, two screaming girls. First I screamed. Then you screamed. Then I screamed louder. Then you screamed, and we screamed some more. We stopped once we realized neither one of us were hurt by the stray bullet—approximately ten minutes later.
November 3, 2013
October 28, 2013
October 24, 2013
Note from AnyWho Editions
MacGregor penned the novel when a dear friend asked him to write a bedtime story. “I wrote a piece she could snuggle up with in her newly decorated bedroom…and her life”, he stated. “The book emphasizes the pride I feel as a gay man, willing to stand up for being the best I can be. Being a FAG empowers change. It takes strength to come out of the closet and resolve to redefine a hateful word."Captured by Foreword Review, “It’s never too late to change,” the author stresses, pointing to his own decision to “take on” the word “fag,” never one of his favorites, and not only use it, but glorify it, in his new novel. And that he does, in all sorts of creative permutations: Fag-a-pendous, Fag-tabulous, Fag-rentious, and even Super-Fag-alicious are sprinkled liberally throughout, reinforcing the message that the word is not to be feared but, rather, celebrated.” www.anywhoeditions.com
October 21, 2013
Get yours today!
The countdown is on to get A Fag for Her Fifties E-Edition at the special release price of $4.99. "This book was a very easy read. It was funny in parts, sad in parts, and engaging all the way through. I found myself connecting with the main character on many levels and rooting for her until the end. There were some parts of the book that were a little far fetched when it came to the dog but I guess it did tie into the bedtime story theme it had going on. Don't let the title of this book fool you. You will be pleasantly surprised!" Review by Lorri B.
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