A (Short) Happy Pride!

Hey all! Happy Pride Month! Even though Ottawa does its Pride Week and the parade in August—more on that another day—this month always brings me a mix of joy, mostly born of queer visibility and discussion, and also sometimes a wee bit of anxiety, also mostly born of queer visibility and discussion, but let’s start off the way we mean to end, eh?

Or actually, let’s start short.

We all know I love short stories, novellas, anthologies, and collections. Whether I’m listening to them while I walk the doggo, reading them at bedtime, or any other moment where I’m down to read but I want something short, sharp, and awesome, short fiction is my go to.

I also know short fiction doesn’t really get much noise. I mean, I really know this. I released my own collection, Of Echoes Born, six years ago, and I promise I have not learned my lesson because I’ll be releasing another collection this year, but that’s another thing for later. (Was that teasing? It felt like teasing. Ah well. I teased.)

Today? Today let’s talk short stories.

Some Short(s) Reading for Pride

First off, I need to begin with a short story collection that—if you squint at it just right—isn’t, so perhaps if you’re short-story averse, I will hook you by saying Mercedes General, by Jerry L. Wheeler, absolutely fits the bill of a mosaic novel from one character’s point of view

I also feel like that’s not fair, because it’s an incredible collection of linked short fiction and it offers truly moving and damned important glimpses of history through the lens of a gay man of a generation many queerlings just didn’t—and still don’t—get to meet. To put it as simply as possible here, I loved this book. But if you want my full take on it, my review is here.

Mercedes General is a series of linked short stories following the exploits of writer Kent Mortenson and his husband, architect Spencer Michalek as they negotiate a life together from their first meeting as boys. Defying anyone who steps between them, they take on the challenges of growing up a couple—including battles with their families, pedophiles, protestors at their senior prom, and unwanted attention for starting an AIDS hospice during the early part of the epidemic.

“Tender and incisive, Wheeler’s stories meditate on mortality and loss in ways both discomfiting and consolatory. Spanning forty years, Mercedes General is also a queer coming-of-age collection that muses on death and fragility in a manner nothing short of revelatory. Never succumbing to the maudlin or the macabre, Wheeler’s collection charts the painful journey from the uncertainty of adolescence to the hard-earned cynicism of adulthood.” —Brian Alessandro, author of Performer Non Grata, co-writer of Edmund White’s A Boy’s Own Story: The Graphic Novel, and co-editor of Fever Spores: The Queer Reclamation of William S. Burroughs.

“Jerry Wheeler has written something special with Mercedes General. The story moves across decades, following the misadventures of two boys who have the great (mis)fortune to find each other so early in life, perhaps before they’re quite ready, and somehow defy all the odds — bigotry, well-intentioned but clueless relatives, and finally the HIV/AIDS pandemic — to carve out their own little corner of history. Ultimately, the story being told here is one that gay literature has somewhat overlooked, and it’s a story that matters. By turns wise, sad, funny, and raunchy, this is a book well worth reading.” —Marshall Moore, author of Love Is a Poisonous Color, I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind of Thing, and The Concrete Sky

Want another? I’ve got another! An anthology that literally just arrived a few days ago that I’m only three stories into but already loving: We Mostly Come Out at Night: 15 Queer Tales of Monsters, Angels, & Other Creatures, edited by Rob Costello. You’ve all known me long enough to know I’m not Mr. Horror, but YA horror is just about my level of enjoyment for most things, and come on, a Mothman story by Michael Thomas Ford? HOW CAN I NOT?

An empowering cross-genre YA anthology that explores what it means to be a monster, exclusively highlighting trans and queer authors who offer new tales and perspectives on classic monster stories and tropes. 

Be not afraid! These monsters, creatures, and beasties are not what they appear. We Mostly Come Out at Night is a YA anthology that reclaims the monstrous for the LGBTQA+ community while exploring how there is freedom and power in embracing the things that make you stand out. Each story centers on both original and familiar monsters and creatures—including Mothman, Carabosse, a girl with thirteen shadows, a living house, werebeasts, gorgons, sirens, angels, and many others—and their stories of love, self-acceptance, resilience, and empowerment. This collection is a bold, transformative celebration of queerness and the creatures that (mostly) go bump in the night.

Contributors include editor Rob Costello, Kalynn Bayron, David Bowles, Shae Carys, Rob Costello, H.E. Edgmon, Michael Thomas Ford, Val Howlett, Brittany Johnson, Naomi Kanakia, Claire Kann, Jonathan Lenore Kastin, Sarah Maxfield, Sam J. Miller, Alexandra Villasante, and Merc Fenn Wolfmoor.

It’s my intent this year to do small recommendation, discussion, and/or fun posts for Pride Month to pass the mic and/or make you smile, and I’d love to hear from you about any ol’ thing you’d like, but today I will ask: what’s a queer short story collection or anthology you’ve bumped into of late that you enjoyed?