Recently, I had a disturbing conversation with a relative that made me stop and think about what I’m doing as a novelist.
He told me that members of our extended family were disappointed – that may be too mild a word – with me for writing “Water Music,” a homoerotic novel, which he says reflects badly on him. He refuses to read the book.
He suggested that those who have read and liked it were misguided in their kindness toward me and, far worse, that the late aunt who raised me – and whom I knew better than all the world – would’ve disapproved.
I was demoralized, furious and amused in that order – amused because I realized how much of him I had poured into all the disapproving daddies that my gay heroes face in “Water Music.” So I’ve had my revenge before he ever uttered a word.
Nor did his critique sway me to his viewpoint despite my initial deflation and anger. I continue to believe with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. that injustice somewhere is injustice everywhere. I cannot oppose gay marriage – as my relative does – because I believe such opposition is a form of discrimination. And as Pope Francis recently remarked about gayness, “Who I am to judge?” – words this relative would do well to consider.
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Read MoreWhen I was a child, one of my favorite books was Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities,” set against the backdrop of revolutionary Paris and its archrival, London.
It’s a story about many different kinds of rivals and doubles, chiefly Charles Darnay, who’s noble in every sense of the word but finds himself paying for the aristocratic sins of his family, and Sydney Carton, the ne’er-do-well English barrister who nonetheless is capable of great courage and love.
Both men are in love with Lucie Manette, the daughter of a doctor whose mind has been ravaged by his imprisonment in Paris. Darnay wins her but Carton, who could be his twin, remains devoted. And when Darnay is unjustly imprisoned by revolutionaries and condemned to the guillotine, Carton hits on a plan to change places with him. But first he undergoes some soul-searching, wandering the streets of Paris. He takes comfort in the biblical words he once heard at a funeral:
“I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whoever so liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
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Read MoreWas it sacrilegious – not to mention completely shallow – of me that I bought “The Bible” miniseries for the hunky guy who plays Jesus?
The series itself – from Roma “Touched by an Angel” Downey and her hubby, “Survivor” impresario Mark Burnett – isn’t very good, concentrating too much on the dreary dutifulness of religion rather than the joy it can bring. Which is, I think, part of Jesus’ message.
The actor who plays Jesus in “The Bible” and the subsequent Downey-Burnett collaboration “Son of God” – Portugal’s Diogo Morgado – is one of a long line of beautiful Jesuses. Think of Jim Caviezel in “The Passion of the Christ.” (The moment I saw him in “The Thin Red Line” as the otherworldly Christ figure Witt, I knew he’d make an excellent Jesus.) Or Robert Powell, my favorite, in Franco Zeffirelli’s “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jeffrey Hunter’s blue eyes were so dreamy in “King of Kings” that some critics dubbed the film “I Was A Teenage Jesus.”
Sure, there have been stern-looking Jesuses (a miscast Max von Sydow in “The Greatest Story Ever Told”) and even commonplace Jesuses. (Dennis Potter’s “Son of Man,” with stocky, course-looking Colin Blakely in the title role, was lambasted for making Jesus ordinary, even homely, when it aired on British TV in 1969.)
But these are the exceptions that prove the rule: Jesus must be gorgeous.
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Read MoreThe unsurprising un-retirement of Michael Phelps – who’ll compete April 24-26 at the Arena Grand Prix in Mesa, Ariz. – has set off a spate of he-was-too-young-and-too-passionate-about-swimming-to-retire-anyway columns.
“If Roger Federer can play on quite respectably at age 32, why can’t Phelps head to a fifth Olympics at age 31 and try to add a medal or two (or more) to his uniquely large collection of 22, including 18 gold?” Christopher Clarey wrote in his “Why Not?” column.
Surely, Ryan Lochte – Phelps’ great friend and rival – isn’t throwing in the towel, even though he’ll be 32 in 2016. But why not compete? Why not do what you love as long as you want to do it? (That’s what Daniel Reiner-Kahn, one of the swimmers at the heart of my new novel “Water Music,” thinks when his father wonders what he’s going to be doing with the rest of his life. As far as Daniel is concerned, he has a career. He swims.)
I suspect , however, that the columnists are not just talking about Phelps or Federer. Athletes have always been poignant metaphors for ourselves.
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Read MoreI predict May will be a perfect month. We're owed it after all winter doled out. (Snow mid-April? Really?!) So for May – the month of Mothers and (Aunt) Mary – I'll be reveling in the full effects of spring and appearing at some favorite local spots.
For all you mothers, I'll be appearing May 8 at The Westchester Mall for "Indulge, A Stylish Treat for Mothers." Relax with beauty and fashion makeovers, cocktails, live music and a chic giveaway. I'll be reading one of my favorite excerpts from “Water Music” and signing copies.
Look for me May 18 at The Lionheart Gallery in Pound Ridge for a light brunch, as well as a reading and book signing. For more, call (914) 764-8689 or visit thelionheartgallery.com.
One of the many joys of publishing "Water Music" has been the opportunity to discuss my novel, its relatable characters and themes, and simply life with the incredible people I meet (and remeet) at these events. You are wonderful. I do hope to see you this spring.
Read MoreThe return of the Rod Laver Adidas tennis shoe – which has been described as a sneaker for grown men who are nonetheless not yet willing to go gently into that good night – got me thinking about the answer to an oft-asked question: Who is the greatest tennis player you ever saw?
The answer to that is simply “Rod Laver.” Look, Roger Federer fans, he will never be the answer to that question for this Nadalista, just as I am congenitally incapable of rooting for the Red Sox as a Yankee fan.
But in any event, it’s not a horse race between Feddy Bear and Rafa, because there was Rod Laver. What made Laver so great? Well, for one thing, he was a lefty, and a lefty serve is, I think, more difficult to read. Certainly, Bjorn Borg, who spent all those years bedeviling and being bedeviled by Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe, thought so. And certainly it’s the reason Novak Djokovic is always looking to practice with a southpaw the day before he has to face Rafael Nadal (who plays lefty but is really a righty in southpaw clothing).
The righty-lefty thing is something I touch on in my new novel “Water Music,” in which Alí Iskandar is a prodigious southpaw tennis player – which gives right-handed rival, friend and lover Alex Vyranos fits.
But back to Laver, whose racket I proudly owned as a child...
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Read MoreAt the end of Sassy Ladies Shopping Night Out last Friday at the DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel in Tarrytown, a vendor approached the table where I was selling my new novel, “Water Music.” She had been by earlier, but our conversation had been cut short by the appearance of customers at her table. Now true to her word, she came back as I was packing up and bought a copy.
She had told me that her son was gay, coming out to her when he was 14, and I could sense all the pain of that reality, not because she rejected him but because no mother likes to see her child rejected by others. She couldn’t quite understand why I – with no such similar narrative – would’ve, could’ve written a novel like "Water Music," whose four gay athletes whose professional rivalries color their personal relationships with one another. I told her that being a man didn’t stop Tolstoy from writing “Anna Karenina.”
“Yes, but at least he knew what it was like to make love to a woman.”
True, but he didn’t know what a woman feels like when she makes love to a man.
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