(no subject)
Oh man oh man oh man.
DAVID LEVITHAN just send me an email. HE sent ME an email. Through myspace. He said he saw that I had listed Boy Meets Boy among my favorite books and he wanted to thank me. Then he wished me a happy new year. I am so jazzed right now.
I'm afraid I went a bit overboard on my reply, though. I wrote a TON. But it's not everyday that you can talk to one of your favorite authors, now is it? I hope he reads it- I put a lot of effort into it. Oh well, it's nice just to know it's out there, I sent it, I did what I could to get my message across. God I love that man.
Okay, so here it is:
Letter to David Levithan:
Holy shit. Hello.
This is quite unexpected.
I don't know if you send out emails like this all the time, and if people usually send long emails back, but I will do it anyway because, hey, presented with the chance? Go for it.
Myspace truly rules. It will eat the world someday.
Okay, first of all-- no no no. I need to be thanking YOU for writing such a fantastic book. It is truly incredible. I love Realm of Possibility, too. The opening and closing poems just slay me. I love Daniel.
I don't even know where to begin. Your book...
No, lets start here: I was 13. I had noticed that I liked girls' parts just as much as I liked boys' parts, and it freaked me out. I went through one of those self-conscious discovery phases, scoping out the "world of gayness," and what it meant to me. I got crappy novels from the library, delved into Ani DiFranco, surreptisiously bought an issue of the Advocate. Mostly, though, it was books. I went through them like candy. They were just as addictive, and just what I thought I needed at the time. Also, like candy, they made me feel gross when finished with them. Rainbow Boys, Rainbow High, Keeping You a Secret, Geography Club, Kissing Kate, Dare Truth or Promise, Good Moon Rising, and more recently Luna-- I read them all, and didn't honestly like a single one. The characters were annoying, the stories annoying, the struggles, the pain, the angst, oh the angst-- it all felt false. Everything was the same, formulatic. First time sex, using protection, AIDS, homophobia, religion, misunderstanding, coming out, coming out, coming out-- you just can't pack all that in a story and have it be good. They weren't stories to me. They were sermons, instructional booklets, informational handouts about overcoming adversity and how to find a good counselor.
Yours was the first, and the only, book about gay youth that was different. It, too, had some of these elements, particularly in the case of Tony, but in your book it seemed like just part of the story, just the way it was, rather than the entire plot and message. It wasn't something to remark on then angst over then discuss and overcome, thereby fulfilling the expected story arc in a tidy package complete with one-dimensional, frankly dislikable characters in a small-town setting. It was just something that was there. It just was.
Boy Meets Boy wasn't like all the others. It was just a story. Just a novel, and that's what I liked about it. It wasn't trying to be anything more. I've heard some people say that it was too much of a fantasy, a world that could never be and was just too silly to believe. All the time we read books set in other dimensions, in worlds filled with dragons and wizards. We read teen novels filled with murder plots, wild conspiracy theories, parents that frankly don't, or rarely, exist. They are filled with straight romance, and we don't question it. Yes, you wouldn't find a high school like the one in Boy Meets Boy, but so what? It's fun. Like the conspiracy theories, the impossible parents. Like The Gospel According to Larry, like The Da Vinci Code. So what?
The world doesn't make the story, but it sure adds to it. Not entirely plausible, but not trying to be. And I love the fact that at the same time, it's like everything you've ever known and yearned for and lived and tried to live. You think back on your life to all the weird, funky places you've been and weird, funky people you've met and you can say, hey, it's just like real life. It's like every rad place and surreal event in your life, concentrated. It's fantasy, and it's not.
And your characters are wonderful. Tony is my favorite. Every time I think about him I just get this incredible, painful desire to hug him. Every time I read about the origami flowers or Jed carrying the ring around in his pocket all day in Realm of Possibility, I just melt. That's me, a puddle of goo. When I picture all the characters in their tuxes and dresses, gathering on the street corner to get Tony, it makes me cry. Really. Shit, I'm crying now. Everyone is themself, girl boy gay straight bi trans asian caucasian silly serious religious not, dancing and laughing and collecting their friend from his house to go with them, to have fun with them.
Your book is filled with emotion, and fills me with emotion-- something I prize highly in literature, regardless of whether its focus is on gay youth or not. Same with art. If it doesn't make me feel, it's not worth it. Yours makes me feel, makes me feel so many different, wonderful things. It fills me with love.
I'm friends with a lesbian couple who live somewhat close by. We go rock climbing together, and they make sterling silver affirmation bracelets. One day we decided that we would trade one pair of my old, outgrown climbing shoes for one of their affirmation bracelets. That's just fine, except I, quite frankly, hate affirmation bracelets. They're just like the aforementioned formulized gay youth books, selling you a whole bunch of carmelized shit that you're just supposed to eat, no questions asked. So I look at the list of phrases that are already provided, and of course they're things like "reach for the stars" and "trust in jesus." My friends tell me they're willing to make one with a phrase of my choice. Immediately quotes from my favorite songs pop into my head, none of which are quite the affirmation type. (I mean, neither "i wanna be your dog" nor "into s&m and bible studies" are exactly appropriate.) I searched my mind for something truly uplifting, something that I could look at and just be filled with, uh, spirit. Or something. David Bowie's birthdate, the first four stanzas to Howl, Rocky Horror Picture Show quotes-- nothing seemed to fit. Until I remembered something from your book.
Old queen, young punk.
The blending of old and new; different personalities, ages, ideas-- yet somehow coming together to sit and share, talking and living and finding friends in unexpected places. Finding heroes in unexpected places. Drawing inspiration from your elders, from youth, from creativity in all forms. I see it so clearly in my mind, so clearly, in this fantasy world that is not fantasy, that is downtown Seattle and the stories my father tells me. Every time I see the phrase I remember the colors of your book, blinding-- the dash of red that I imagine Darlene to be, dashing around precariously on two-inch heels; the pure blue like the cover that Noah represents, and the beautiful colors he paints; the dark, friendly shadows of the graveyard and the sunlight glinting through the trees on the mountain and I want to hug Tony too. I want to hug him too.
It fills me with love.
Thank you.
Love and a new year filled with Vincent Price and Infinite Darlene (cuz I think they'd get along),
Jordan