Justin Torres’ We the Animals (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt 2011) is a semi-autobiographical coming-of-age novella about a young boy and his two brothers growing up mixed-race (their father is Puerto Rican and their mother is Caucasian) in New York. Though the book is rather short, at just under 130 pages, it is written as a series of episodes, like a short-story compilation, and every episode packs a wallop.

As “the boy” and his two brothers, Manny and Joel, grow up, we see their hunger: hunger for food, for love, for attention, for something bigger, better, brighter. They are always hungry for more. They and their parents go through life in a torrent, sometimes smashing and breaking things (and each other) just to have something to do, to have some power over their out-of-control lives. They watch their parents’ violent love affair; they witness their father disappear and reappear; they see their mother working night shifts just to bring home enough food to keep the boys from starving, while she goes without most of the time. And the reader watches “the boy,” the narrator, as he slowly develops into a person different from his family, more intelligent, more sensitive. He is their one hope, and they are simultaneously encouraging and envious, until the world comes crashing down around them all and the family is changed forever.

Part of what makes this such a brilliant work is that, although none of these characters is particularly redeeming or heroic, it is impossible not to fall in love with each of them, just a little bit. The reason for this is that they are so believable; none of the characters is simply “the bad guy” or “the good guy.” These are human beings, a family. They are wildly, furiously passionate about and defensive of one another, but they also despise each other at times. The kids love and adore their parents for many reasons, but the parents also manage to disappoint in some way. Likewise, it is easy to believe that Ma and Paps would do anything for their kids, even die for them; but this doesn’t stop them from yelling, beating, or ignoring them at times. The most interesting and effective characterization, then, is not just in the development of the characters as individuals, but in the development of the family as a whole and how they live and interact with one another as the years go by.

The work is also stunningly written. The prose pulls its readers along effortlessly; it is as if the reader is a ship, the story is the sea, and Torres’ prose is the crew. Whether the story is raging and raving, or lapping gently at the boat, Torres’ prose guides the reader, pressing us onward, navigating us through the storms and allowing us to enjoy the voyage when the weather has calmed.

Torres also structures the book in an interesting way, through episodes rather than direct progression. Each short chapter is a scene from the narrator’s life that exposes a certain aspect of the narrator or element of his family. We learn about the boy by catching glimpses of various moments he finds important, such as dancing with his brothers and father, or playing messy games with his mother who never seems to tire of the boys’ wild antics. As the episodes move along, the brothers grow up and the glimpses into their lives become more complicated, more dangerous. Finally, in the last episodes, we see the narrator for who he has become and the family for what it is, and we are left to hope that all the pieces will someday come together again.

We the Animals is a book impossible to compare to any other, though it fits in well with similarly brilliant novels in the same genre, like Julia Alvarez’s We the Butterflies and Alexander Chee’s Edinburgh. It is exciting and sad, terrifying and funny. There is an honesty and reality to this book that is almost unbearable; the story cuts to the quick one moment and, in the next, is suckling at readers’ fingertips, dulling the pain. The raw emotion from the narrator is transmitted in one of the most uniquely genuine and effective ways I have ever experienced. The episodic structure allows readers to see what the narrator believes is most important, and this narrator is oddly fair, exposing the good and bad in each person, including himself.

This book tackles family, neglect, and poverty; it confronts adultery, pedophilia, and loneliness. It is a book of love and hate, dark and light, and, ultimately, a book of life and existence—a masterful retelling of the world as it is. We the Animals is riveting, gut-wrenching, and bittersweet.

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

The post Advocacy of Queer Storytelling and Memoir appeared first on DIY MFA.

Today, I want to explore the invaluable benefits of writing retreats and programs specifically tailored for LGBTQ+ writers. These safe and inclusive spaces offer a nurturing environment, supportive community, and opportunities for personal and artistic growth.

Creating Safe and Inclusive Spaces

Writing retreats and programs dedicated to LGBTQ+ writers create safe and inclusive spaces where individuals can freely express themselves without fear of judgment or discrimination. These environments foster a sense of belonging and understanding, empowering writers to delve into personal narratives and explore their identities in their work. 

By eliminating the need for self-censorship, LGBTQ+ writers can fully explore their creativity and push boundaries, resulting in more authentic and impactful storytelling.

Building Supportive Communities

Retreats, communities, and guest writer programs can provide a unique opportunity to connect with like-minded individuals and build supportive communities. 

Sharing experiences, challenges, and triumphs with others who understand and empathize can be immensely empowering and inspiring. These communities offer a network of support that extends beyond the duration of the retreat or program, providing ongoing mentorship, collaboration opportunities, and lasting friendships. 

Connecting with fellow LGBTQ+ writers not only strengthens individual voices but also fosters a sense of solidarity within the wider community.

Nurturing Personal and Artistic Growth

Attending a writing program or retreat offers a nurturing environment that encourages personal and artistic growth. Through workshops, seminars, and one-on-one feedback sessions, participants can hone their writing skills, learn new techniques, and gain valuable insights from experienced mentors and facilitators. 

Additionally, the focused time and space away from daily distractions allow writers to delve deeper into their craft, exploring new genres, experimenting with different styles, and pushing their creative boundaries.

Amplifying LGBTQ+ Voices

Representation matters. Writing retreats and programs for LGBTQ+ writers play a vital role in amplifying underrepresented voices and diverse narratives. 

By providing a platform specifically designed for LGBTQ+ writers, these initiatives enable stories and perspectives that are often marginalized or overlooked to reach a wider audience. 

The power of storytelling lies not only in its ability to entertain but also to educate, challenge stereotypes, and foster empathy. By supporting and encouraging LGBTQ+ writers, we can contribute to a more inclusive literary landscape.

Overcoming Challenges and Finding Validation

LGBTQ+ writers often face unique challenges in the literary world, including heteronormative expectations, the need to educate readers on LGBTQ+ issues, and the pressure to conform to mainstream narratives. 

In an age of increasing calls for censorship and book bans, LGBTQ+ programs and communities help writers navigate challenges by offering a platform where their voices are not only accepted but celebrated. 

The validation and affirmation received within these spaces can be transformative, instilling confidence, resilience, and a sense of pride in one’s identity and work.

Programs to Consider

Retreats and programs tailored for LGBTQ+ writers provide invaluable opportunities for personal and artistic growth, fostering a sense of belonging, support, and validation. 

By creating safe and inclusive spaces, these initiatives amplify the voices of LGBTQ+ writers, empowering them to tell their stories authentically and contribute to a more diverse and inclusive literary landscape. As we continue to strive for equality and representation, it is crucial to recognize and support the unique contributions of LGBTQ+ writers. 

Here are some LGBTQ+ programs to consider and perhaps even apply for if you’re an LGBTQ+ writer in search of support and community.

Lambda Literary’s Writing Retreat

The Writer’s Retreat for Emerging LGBTQ Voices has been in service since 2007. It is the nation’s premier LGBTQ writing residency. It is the only multi-genre writing residency devoted exclusively to emerging LGBTQ+ writers.

The Loft’s Writer’s Workshop

This program has moved online, offering much more opportunity for LGBTQ+ writers from all around the country. They provide an excellent resources section as well, so writers have options as to how involved or independent they want to be.

Contests

There are also some amazing writing contests hosted specifically for LGBTQ+ writers. 

Examples include those hosted by Dunlop (the PFD YA Queer Fiction prize and the PFD Adult Queer Fiction Prize), Saints and Sinners (short story and poetry contests), Queer Sci-Fi, Lambda Literary (Jeanne Cordova Prize for Lesbian/Queer Nonfiction; J. Michael Samuel Prize for Emerging Writers Over 50; and the Judith A. Markowitz Award for Exceptional New LGBTQ Writers, just to name a few!), and the Lumiere Review Writing Contest (poetry and short stories).

DIY MFA

Join us here at DIY MFA! While this community is open to all writers in all genres, it is an inclusive group where you will find support from ally and LGBTQ-identifying writers as well. Build your own community within the community!

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Twitter.

The post Nurturing Creativity and Amplifying Voices with LGBTQ+ Writers’ Contests and Programs appeared first on DIY MFA.

History of Transgender Literature

The roots of transgender literature can be traced back to ancient mythology and folklore. In many cultures around the world, there are stories of gods and goddesses who change their gender or have ambiguous gender identities. For example, in Hindu mythology, the god Shiva is sometimes depicted as both male and female, while in Greek mythology, the god Hermaphroditos (child of Hermes and Aphrodite) is said to have been born with both male and female genitalia. 

Similar stories exist in the histories and mythologies of Indigenous communities around the world. These stories reflect the fact that gender identity has been a complex and fluid concept throughout human history and across cultures.

In more recent history, transgender literature began to emerge as a distinct category in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One of the earliest modern novels to address gender fluidity and expression is Virginia Woolf’s Orlando, published in 1928. 

An important early science text on transgender issues was The Transsexual Phenomenon, a book published in 1966 by Harry Benjamin, a pioneering physician who specialized in transgender health care. Benjamin’s book introduced the term “transsexual” and provided the first comprehensive description of the medical and psychological aspects of gender transition. While his approach was controversial and has been criticized by some as pathologizing transgender people, his work was a crucial step forward in recognizing transgender identity as a legitimate one.

In the 1970s, as the feminist and LGBT rights movements gained momentum, transgender literature began to take on a more political and activist tone. One of the most influential works from this era is Stone Butch Blues, a novel published in 1993 by transgender author Leslie Feinberg. The book tells the story of a young butch lesbian growing up in Buffalo, New York, in the 1950s and 60s, and her struggles with gender identity, discrimination, and violence. Stone Butch Blues was one of the first novels to address the experiences of transgender people in a nuanced and sympathetic way, and it helped to inspire a new generation of transgender writers and activists.

Transgender Literature Today

Transgender literature has continued to flourish and diversify. Today, there are countless works of fiction, poetry, memoir, and scholarship that explore transgender identity from a variety of perspectives. 

Some of the most notable recent works include Redefining Realness, a memoir by Janet Mock, a transgender woman and prominent activist and media personality; Nevada, a novel by Imogen Binnie that explores the experiences of a transgender woman living in New York City; and Transgender History, a scholarly book by Susan Stryker that traces the history of transgender identity and activism from ancient times to the present day. 

In addition, Joanne Meyerowitz’s How Sex Changed is an important history that reminds readers of transgender issues that have been visible in the news and other media for seventy years.

Why is transgender literature important?

The importance of transgender literature lies not only in its ability to raise awareness about the struggles faced by transgender individuals, but also in its ability to provide a platform for transgender voices to be heard. By sharing their experiences and perspectives, transgender authors can challenge stereotypes and misconceptions about the community and promote greater understanding and acceptance.

Transgender literature is a powerful tool for activism and social change. Through their writing, transgender authors can advocate for policy reforms, challenge discriminatory laws and policies, and promote greater inclusion and diversity in society.

One of the most important contributions of transgender literature has been its ability to help transgender individuals find a sense of community and belonging. For many transgender people, reading the works of other transgender individuals or stories about transgender characters can be a transformative experience, helping them to feel less alone and more connected to others who share their experiences.

In this way, transgender literature can serve as a source of inspiration and hope. By sharing their stories of resilience and survival, transgender authors can reach others who may be struggling with their gender identity or facing discrimination and violence. 

The need for these stories and their ability to connect to readers is demonstrated well by the rise in popularity of young adult novels by and about transgender people, such as Lio Min’s Beating Heart Baby (2023), Andrew Joseph White’s Hell Followed with Us (2022), and Aiden Thomas’s The Cemetery Boys (2020). Each of these is a compelling and exciting coming-of-age narrative that just happens to feature transgender protagonists.

The history of transgender people and their stories is a fascinating one. As with any category of writing, readers are sure to benefit from writing that presents such a rich history, especially when it’s done through beautifully unique and courageously authentic storytelling.

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Facebook and Twitter.

The post Transgender Literature: A Rich History and a Contemporary Renaissance appeared first on DIY MFA.

In Two Boys Kissing, David Levithan brings back the literary chorus of old. The narrative guides of Shakespeare and Ovid at long last reappear, this time through the collective voice of our “ancient” gay predecessors. These are the people who bravely pioneered the social frontier, the rainbow-clad Lewis & Clark who pressed love onward – quietly or with booming voice – and who were lost to one of the greatest tragedies of our day, the AIDS epidemic.

The Premise 

As our guide, this chorus reveals to us a day in the life of multiple contemporary gay youths, in many iterations of the “type.” The main couple, Craig and Harry, are the two boys kissing, but they are not a couple at all (although they used to be). Their goal is to stand up for equality by breaking the world’s record for longest kiss – hoping that the process and the result of two boys’ names together in a permanent book of world records will get people thinking, if not change the world entirely. They are also standing up for their friend, who was violently and viciously beaten for being gay.

In addition to their primary story, the chorus gives us a peek into the worlds of Peter and Neil, a young couple who are learning what that word, “couple,” means; learning how to navigate life for themselves and for each other, including, most importantly, how to understand and respond to one another, sometimes without words. We also meet Avery and Ryan, both of whom have their demons, past and present, and who must confront the idea of what it means to be different, even within the same “gay world.”

Finally, we see Cooper, the boy who no one sees and who refuses to be seen. Cooper’s story is where the chorus truly rallies and where these spirit guides are needed most, lest we forget that where we came from and where we are going are inextricably linked. Technology advances, and these advancements change our perspectives and our possibilities, but for boys like Cooper, the loneliness and isolation only grow deeper, more vacuous.

Thoughts on the Book

Before there was Heartstopper, there was Two Boys Kissing: the gay anthem for our day. It is the very book created from the very inspirations that many of us have been waiting to read for a long, long time. Levithan pulls stories from the real world and links them to our present and our past. He does this through the eyes of a compassionate yet devastatingly helpless and sometimes forgotten chorus of our forbearers.

Levithan, since the publication of his wonderful short novel Boy Meets Boy twenty years ago, has veered from the idyllic and romantic, to the daring and experimental (Every You, Every Me), and the exploratory (Every Day), right into the real, the raw, and the historical. He keeps getting better, and Two Boys Kissing is a triumph indeed.

Quotes to Consider

“It is hard to stop seeing your son as a son and to start seeing him as a human being. It is hard to stop seeing your parents as parents and to start seeing them as human beings. It’s a two-sided transition, and very few people manage it gracefully.”

“What strange creatures we are, to find silence peaceful, when permanent silence is the thing we most dread. Nighttime is not that. Nighttime still rustles, still creaks and whispers and trembles in its throat.  It is not darkness we fear, but our own helplessness within it.”

“You grow. Your life widens. And you can’t expect your partner’s love alone to fill you. There will always be space for other things.”

“Here we are, thousands of us, shouting no, shouting at him to stop, crying out and making a net of our bodies, trying to come between him and the water.”

“There is the sudden. There is the eventual. And in between, there is the living.”

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Twitter, and Instagram.

The post The Triumph of <em>Two Boys Kissing</em> appeared first on DIY MFA.

But that’s all the sociopolitical side of things. The play is also simply good, wildly brazen, and a lot of fun, despite it also being incredibly painful and sensitive.

Two Plays Together

Tony Kushner’s masterpiece is two plays packaged together. The first play is called Millennium Approaches, and the second is titled Perestroika. The reason for each title is made clear, not just in the theme of each part, but in the very literal text. Part one deals with the awareness of “the plague” as told from one character’s perspective, as well as the other awakenings that are happening to the disillusioned post-Reagan. The second part deals with the managing, if not acceptance, of the many real problems that Americans in the early-1990s were facing. In this way, the two plays tell the two most important parts of a crisis — the recognition of it and the fallout from it.

A Masterpiece of Metaphor

One thing that stands out to me most upon this recent reading is just how fabulously genius the metaphors are; they seem very much “in your face” because they very much are in your face (one Act in the play is titled “Spooj.” I mean, hello!) And yet, behind the trumpeting and the camping and the filthy language and the wild, uncensored eroticism (orgasm in the arms of an angel? Oh boy!), there’s a subtle sensitivity, a deep root being strummed in a way that is both painful and almost cathartic.

A Classic of Characterization

Characterization and character struggle is also a strength. Whether the issue is romantic infidelity, drug addiction, religion (the falling from it or the falling toward it), politics, or disease, each character’s experience is developed in a way that is unusual for drama; they are given depth and personality, and the time it takes to deal with their problems. Drama is primarily about action, but Kushner, though using action to propel the plot, also relies on more traditionally narrative-like characterization to illustrate the play’s major themes and to help the audience feel more invested.

Complexity and Diversity

Something else I enjoy very much about the play, especially considering its time of publication, is how it outlines the complexity and diversity of gay experiences. In literature and the arts, where one might assume homosexuality is more known and accepted, it is homosexual stereotypes, not lives, that have been most often articulated and perpetuated. (A chapter in my book, From A Whisper to A Riot, deals with this, if you’re interested in learning more about this history.) Kushner, though, allows one of his characters to essentially call out that kind of stereotyping (literally, using the word) and then develops several diverse gay men who have extraordinarily little in common, opening the very idea of what it means, or could mean, to be a gay man in America.

The only prominent piece of literature to that point that had done something similar is Mart Crowley’s The Boys in the Band, but unfortunately, that play is far less complex and falls into the trap of its time, being filled with characters who mostly hate themselves and each other—not exactly inspiring, though understandable for a play written in 1968. In fact, I think an interesting exercise would be to perform a close comparative analysis of The Boys in the Band and Angels in America, to see just how much changed for gay men between 1970 and 1990.

In Conclusion

My thoughts on this one could run in so many directions, but to put it simply, I think Angels in America should be required reading. It is not just a staple of American drama and an important artifact in the history of that genre, but it is also an important historical artifact more generally. Kushner litters the play with references and allusions to classical mythology, Christianity, Mormonism, Judaism, atheism, American government, science, addiction, war, politics, and so many other factors, that one is sure to walk away from it not only having been entertained and challenged, because it is challenging in its themes, tone, and delivery, but also edified and, perhaps, with a great deal of new questions to consider.

And a final note: the play was beautifully adapted by HBO into a 6-part miniseries starring Meryl Streep, Al Pacino, Emma Thompson, Mary-Louise Parker, James Cromwell, Michael Gambon, and others of that caliber. It is well worth the watch.

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Twitter and Instagram.

The post The Lasting Genius of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America appeared first on DIY MFA.

The novel was written in Chinese and published in 1994. It was translated to English five years later, then published by Oxford University Press in 2000. Its description notes that the novel won “the coveted China Times Novel Prize,” which is striking to me considering what (little) I know about attitudes still surrounding LGBTQ+ people and rights in China and its territories.

This first-person tale of a Taiwanese gay man reflecting on his life, loves, and intellectual influences is said to be one of the most important contemporary novels in Taiwan. I think what must have caught the prize readers’ attention is not necessarily the subject matter, at least not solely that, but the brilliance and creativity of the novel’s form, style, and synthesis of ideas.

True to its mid-1990s origins, the book is postmodern in style. The chapters function as snapshots, or time capsules, of moments in the narrator’s (Xiao Shao’s) life. Within each, however, is a unique and provocative kind of stylistic. T’ien-Wen moves back and forth between treatises on major concepts–psychology and medicine, literary theory and history, art and philosophy–and narration. This balancing of intellectual exposition with creative storytelling can be a bit jarring at first, as it feels in one moment that we are dealing with an academic essay and in the next, a rich, vibrant cultural story. 

It doesn’t take long to get used to the approach, though, and when one recognizes and accepts what’s happening, it becomes not just easy to enjoy the relationship between Xiao Shao’s personal moments and his intellectual ruminations related to them, but it also becomes an exhilarating exercise in elevated thought. 

The reader can, in other words, simultaneously relax and enjoy a beautifully tragic story while engaging critically with an incredible range of philosophical explorations. It’s the kind of storytelling one might expect from, say, a Tolstoy or Woolf; from a Joyce or Steinbeck. Perhaps the closest comparison I can make is to Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, as this novel, too, begins with a specific memory but then, as ruminations on the past tend to do, spreads rapidly into tangents and asides, some of which are easier to follow than others, and none of which tend to follow chronological order.

At the heart of the novel, holding together the story and its cultural and philosophical exercises, is one man’s journey through life and loss. The main concern for Xiao Shao, which fuels everything else that happens in the novel, is the loss of his dear, lifelong friend to AIDS. A year ago, if you had asked me to read another gay story about AIDS, I would have politely declined. That theme (rightly) dominated the genre for so long, that I became quickly burnt out by it.

But here’s the rub: aside from one British novel on the topic, all of the novels, short stories, essays, poems, and plays that I had read about this topic were from the American perspective; after all, I am American, and my history is intimately wrapped-up in what happened here in the United States. Reading about this crisis and how deeply and painfully it was felt on the other side of the world, though, reminds me just how intimately we are all connected, and just how quickly we can become myopic about what we think we know.

Despite the difficulties inherent in reading a translated novel, and particularly one in the challenging postmodern genre, I found myself unable to put this book down. It is somehow dense and light as a feather. It is erotic and illuminating. Xiao Shao’s journey was to me like an exposé, or an introduction, to the activism, society, love, culture, history, and poetry of Taiwan, all couched in universal metaphor, in western philosophy, and in cinema. I was delighted to be reminded of feminist film studies concepts like the “male gaze,” for example, alongside the anthropological theories of Lévi-Strauss and literary allusions to the likes of Beckett.

I should mention that I was under the impression, by my own fault, that the book was autobiographical, so learning that the author is a woman was surprising. In the United States, there was a time when it was much more socially and professionally acceptable for women to write about same-sex love and relationships between men (read my book if you’re interested in learning more about that). So, it’s entirely possible that the same was true in Taiwan in the 1990s, and this would be interesting to research further.

Notes of a Desolate Man is a gem; it is a gem as a story, a gem as a Taiwanese cultural artifact, and a gem of a literary masterwork. I think it’s safe to say that this one has earned a permanent place in my library. I hope readers interested in LGBTQ+ literature, and especially literature in translation, will give it a chance.

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Twitter and Instagram.

The post LGBTQ+ Literature in Translation: Notes of a Desolate Man appeared first on DIY MFA.

About Magic’s Pawn

Magic’s Pawn was written by Mercedes Lackey and published in 1989. As a scholar of LGBT literature, I have to say this is remarkable. Not only is this an openly gay text with positive representation, but it’s also mainstream and was printed by a large fantasy press. It’s not surprising that it was written by a woman, as that was rather typical of accepted (“acceptable”) gay fiction up to the 1990s, when it began to be more and more common to see gay men writing and publishing their own stories more successfully (although—well, never mind, that’s a rabbit hole I won’t go down here.) 

Lackey even mentions in her wonderful new introduction to the trilogy that she and her agent had serious discussions about the likelihood of this story ever seeing the light of day. Fortunately, they both took the courageous steps to get it out there, and it worked.

The Plot

The story follows young Vanyel, a beautiful but different noble person and heir to his father’s throne. At home, he is constantly bullied, persecuted, and abused because he is beautiful and soft, the opposite of what a leader is expected to be. His father, his tutor, and his brother all seem determined to grind Vanyel down; only his sister and his overbearing mother show him any love. 

Eventually, Vanyel’s inability to grow into the masculine noble that his father demands is met with punishment: exile to Haven, where he will be tutored by his hard-as-nails aunt, the Herald Savil.

Surprisingly, however, this punishment turns out to be the greatest blessing. In Haven, Vanyel learns a lot about who he really is, what makes him different, yes, but also what makes him great. He finds companionship that develops into true love; he learns the secrets of his once dormant magical abilities, and he earns grudging respect from the most judgmental family and teachers. But all of this comes at a cost.

When Vanyel’s lover is drawn into a terrible battle and suffers a loss beyond consolation, Vanyel immediately rushes to his aid. The choices these two young, talented lovers make will bring about the end of their relationship, but also a great and painful transformation in Vanyel.

While Magic’s Pawn might not include as much wizardry as readers might expect from a “fantasy novel” with a wizard in the leading role, what it does provide is a unique and sensitive representation of a young gay man’s coming-of-age experience, including the difficult pillars of coming out and of falling in love. The very human elements of family and friendship, grief and loss, are also crucial to the story.

A Final Note

At the end of the introduction, Lackey describes the readers who have written to express their appreciation to her for this story. She mentions that many have called her a hero for daring to do that work, and for helping them to see themselves and understand themselves for the first time, through her fiction. It even encouraged young and older readers to come out. And here is her response:

You are the real heroes. I am proud and thrilled to have been part of your journey, but you began the journey, and you kept up with it until you came out on top. It was all you. I’m just glad to have been a part of it.

Mercedes Lackey

Now, remember, Lackey wrote and published this trilogy in the late-1980s/early-1990s, at the height of the AIDS crisis. Here she is, reaching out to a devastated, terrified community, giving them hope, a sense of place, and purpose. This is the power of writing and writing well.

Gay male writers in the United States who know their history will be forever indebted to the women who got them through one of the most devastating epidemics in human history. These women—including ally writers—were, and will forever be, heroes indeed.

Tell us in the comments: Have you read Magic’s Pawn? Do you have any other recommendations for LGBTQ+ high fantasy books?

Adam W. Burgess is an English Professor at College of Southern Nevada. He has a Ph.D. from Northern Illinois University and is pursuing a post-doc writing certificate at the University of California, Berkeley. He loves engaging in all topics related to LGBTQ literature and craft. You can find Adam on his website or follow him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

The post Magic’s Pawn: A Classic of LGBTQ+ High Fantasy appeared first on DIY MFA.

Maybe you are already meeting your reading and writing goals for the summer. But maybe not. Fortunately, at DIY MFA we have some posts that will help you read and write more this summer.

Six Ways to Write Through the Lazy Summer Days

A lot of people like to take a break during the summer. I think this is partly because we’re conditioned from kindergarten through twelfth grade (and even into college) to view those 12 weeks as the only bit of freedom from the drudgery of daily life that we get. I get it.

But I think you can still take a break from the daily grind and get some words on the page. Former DIY MFA columnist Bess McAllister first shared this article in 2014 about how you can write through the dog days of summer without losing your cool. This post is all about maximizing the fun that summer has to offer while still meeting your writing goals.

#5onFri: Five Hacks to Help You Write More This Summer

This #5onFri from former columnist Savannah Cordova offers even more tips on how to get the most out of summer and meet your goals. This post walks you through how to get your writing done early so that you can reward yourself with some pool time and a nice cool, refreshing drink (or however you like to reward yourself).

I think rewards are an excellent way to help find the motivation you need to knock out the work. Yes, writing is fun and that’s why we do it, but—let’s face it—it’s also work, so be sure to reward yourself accordingly.

Four Ways to Build Accountability into Summer Reading

I’m sure I’m not the only one here who knocked their library’s summer reading program out of the park each year! Summer is just made for reading. Whether you’re hanging out poolside or beating the heat with a nice book inside, books are a great companion. They keep your brain engaged and provide hours of entertainment.

Summer is a great time to make some headway on your mountainous TBR pile, but sometimes a little accountability helps. Check out this post by former DIY MFA columnist Terri Frank on how to meet your reading goals for the summer.

Prepare Your LGBTQ+ Summer Reading List with Ten Must-Reads

Maybe you’re wanting to get a bit more diversity in your reading list, but don’t know where to start. Let me suggest this amazing list of LGBTQ+ books put together by current DIY MFA columnist, Adam W. Burgess. 

He’s done a great job of assembling a list of books across genres for your reading pleasure. Really! There are novels, graphic novels, poetry collections, and non-fiction books on this list. Plus, with each title on the list, he provides a bit of an explanation on why it’s recommended reading.

June 2022 Leisure Learning

OK. This post just came out, but I wanted to highlight it nonetheless. Each month, columnist Melissa Haas puts together suggested resources to engage your creative brain. The things highlighted in these posts run the gamut from documentaries to digital collections and even literary video games that you should check out. I can’t tell you how much I love this fabulous monthly resource that she puts together!

The items in this list are ones you can access at home during a staycation or perhaps even use to plan a literary trip. She even includes a family-friendly pick each month for something people of all ages can enjoy. Check it out!

Be Well, Write Well: Embrace Your Season

All of the resources so far focus on the season of the year, but this post by former DIY MFA columnist Leanne Sowul is all about your season of life. Maybe summer isn’t inherently more or less busy than the other seasons of the year. That doesn’t mean you can’t develop habits and routines that help you meet your goals.

This is a great post for anybody who is considering putting together a new routine for themselves. Truth be told, it’s a reflection post I need to work through as I am on the verge of a new start and am figuring out how to structure my days so I can live the life I want to live.

Tell us in the comments: What are your summer reading and writing plans?

Lori Walker is the Operations Maven at DIY MFA. Though she’s fallen off the wagon as a writer, she’s hoping to return to writing essays (perhaps even a novel!) through her involvement with DIY MFA. She is also Launch Manager, Web Editor, and Podcast Producer for DIY MFA and a Book Coach. She resides in Smalltown, Oklahoma, with her husband and their cat, Joan Didion. You can follow her on Instagram at @LoriTheWriter.

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