Press

You’ve recently become publisher of Alyson Books, which has been producing gay and lesbian authors for almost three decades. Looking back, what do you consider to be the company’s greatest achievements and why?

Although I’ve been following Alyson for almost twenty years—either as an editor or reader—it’s difficult to comment on the company’s long history because it encompasses so many books and people. Not to mention three cities—first Boston, then Los Angeles, and finally New York, where our offices have been located for the past five years. When I started in November 2008, one of the first things I did was write to Sasha Alyson, whom I don’t know, to introduce myself and to share with him what an honor it was to be named publisher of the largest and oldest LGBT book publisher. Although he hasn’t owned the company in many years, I felt responsible for reaching out to him. Basically I was thanking Sasha for having the guts to start a gay press against the odds and I suppose I was trying to convey to him that the spirit with which he operated the press was very much kindred to my way of thinking. When I look at our backlist and see the first LGBT children’s books—Heather Has Two Mommies and Daddy’s Roommate—or the first African American gay anthologies—In the Life and Brother to Brother—or the S/M classics Coming to Power and Leatherfolk, I see a publisher with a wide vision of who we are as LGBT people. Taken together, this sampling of books recognizes that some of us are parents, some of us are people of color, and some of us enjoy sex involving BDSM. Some of us might even be all of the above. To my thinking this inclusive view is an extraordinary achievement unto itself. While I could name any number of books that I’m proud to say Alyson has published, I think the barrier breaking nature of our past is what excites me most.

What new ideas do you expect to bring to Alyson this year?

Moving forward, the new Alyson will be substantially different in a number of ways. First, my partnership with Regent Media, our parent company as of last September, will allow me to reach more readers than ever before. Regent also owns Gay.com, Here! TV, The Advocate, Out, HIV Plus, and dozens of LGBT web sites, all of which are available to me in terms of coverage. That’s millions of LGBT people seeing my books every month. However, these properties will additionally be a source of content, and I very much look forward to creating book projects based on Here’s programming, not to mention articles appearing in The Advocate and Out that might be expanded into books. There’s an incredible amount of synergy within the company all of a sudden and I’m thrilled to be working closely with so many talented people—and you’d be surprised how many talented people there really are under one roof. This alone is very exciting to me, as it’s unlike anything I’ve ever worked with. In fact it’s unlike anything anyone in LGBT publishing has ever worked with. Beyond these partnerships, I hope to take Alyson’s editorial focus in new directions, including into areas not previously explored much by us in the past, such as current affairs, politics, serious history and biography, including works that might otherwise have been released by a university press but have enough commercial potential for me to acquire them. There’s a tremendous shortage of intelligent LGBT books for intelligent LGBT people and my mission in the seasons to come is to help fill that void. I’ll also be working with big name authors who one probably wouldn’t associate with Alyson. On the other hand, I’m very interested in popular areas, too, such as true crime, sports, the military, and pornography. I’m starting a series of books on gay serial killers, for example, and see no reason why that can’t exist on my list next to a book on the gay politics of Barrack Obama or the memoir of a gay Iraqi living in political exile. The bottom line across the board, regardless of subject matter, will be quality, but also simply breaking out of the straight jacket of what’s expected from LGBT literature. Like so many people, I’m tired of the on-the-money, well behaved, predictable stuff that’s been handed to us over the years.

There are so many challenges for print publishers in today’s digital world. How would you describe the state of publishing today? What are the advantages of print? What are the challenges?

Publishing is definitely in a major transition phase at the moment, particularly when it comes to technology, which keeps changing and improving all the time. No one in the industry has this figured out, and what’s to come tomorrow is anyone’s guess. It’s undeniable that e-books will become more and more popular as the ways in which we access content in general becomes a lot less print-driven. I’ve yet to figure out why some people feel threatened by e-books. Shouldn’t it be exciting to have more options? I don’t see e-books completely replacing print anytime soon, though, and it’s possible that they never will entirely, much as television didn’t replace radio and the Internet didn’t replace television. As a publisher, I’m less concerned with the format through which people access my books and more concerned that they do access those books! I’m happy to provide content through as many channels as necessary.

What about the state of LGBT publishing? How has it evolved over the years? Where does it stand right now?

LGBT publishing is at a crossroads, needless to say. A couple years ago we lost my old publisher Carroll & Graf, which brought out as many as twenty new LGBT titles a year, to a business merger. Harrington Park Press, which also put out a fair amount, soon followed, as did to some degree Suspect Thoughts, which once had a vigorous list of gay titles. When I was brought on at Alyson, the owner asked who our competition was, and frankly I didn’t know what to say—who’s left really? This is a very different scenario than where we stood fifteen years ago or more. I won’t do another roll call of all the key players in LGBT books back in the day, but suffice to say most of these people are either gone or have moved on to other areas of interest. I hasten to add that this is not particular to LGBT books, but a feature of publishing in general; we sometimes forget this simple fact—LGBT books and their editors struggle in the same market all books and editors struggle in, much as LGBT booksellers face the same market conditions as other independent booksellers. I’m not denying there are challenges particular to working with gay books--there are--but I’m not going to get caught up in defeatism. You can lament the situation as unfair and throw up your hands—as a lot of people do—or you can face reality and come up with ways to meet the demands. I remain very hopeful about the future of LGBT books regardless of the present challenges in the business. The trick, I think, will be to evolve with the times, in fact to welcome these challenges as opportunities and to adapt accordingly.

What do you consider to be the most important gay books of all time? Why are these books so influential?

That’s a big question and I think impossible to pin down. What I can talk about are the writers who matter most to me. But even the definition of what matters to me has changed over time, as it has for most people. What I needed when I was first coming out isn’t necessarily what I need today. I no longer look for a novelist to take me by the hand and show me the gay world. Now I’m much more interested in works that speak to some basic truth that resonates with my own experiences, especially truths that still aren’t typically explored in gay literature. I keep going back to John Rechy’s work, for example, because even to this day the “sex hunt,” as John wonderfully calls it, remains an area that, when it’s dealt with in gay fiction, often comes off as so silly, so titillating, so wide-eyed, whereas in John’s books it’s simply a normal function of his characters’ lives. But it’s not just the sex lives of gay men that appeal to me as a reader; Joan Nestle and Patrick Califia, for example, also intrigue me with their brilliant, highly personal writings. Imagine the clarity and courage Joan had to write “My Mother Liked to Fuck.” I think it says something significant about gay literature that in order to see my sex life rendered realistically I need to return to the past, including to the lives of lesbian sex radicals. Or maybe I’m just missing out on the current crop of gay authors off my radar. I’d love to discover that I’ve overlooked someone fabulous.

You’ve edited several well-known books, and worked with authors like Gore Vidal. What’s been your proudest achievement to date?

Certainly working with Vidal was the biggest thrill of my career, not the least of which is because this was also my first book. By the time I approached him about working together I’d read all his essays, including the really dated ones on Nassir’s Egypt and Barry Goldwater. Of everything he’d published I especially loved his writing on sexuality because, in spite of how long ago these pieces were written, they hold up very well—as a matter of fact, they’re ahead of their time, and I kept thinking, “Never mind Nassir and Goldwater. Why can’t there be a book of just these essays?” Figuring I had nothing to lose by proposing such a book, I drew up a table of contents and mailed it to him in Italy. You can’t imagine my surprise the morning I arrived at work to find a fax on my desk saying “Yes, I will do your book. Contact my agent at the number below.” Contrary to his famously forbidding image, Vidal was incredibly generous and patient with someone who was obviously just starting off. There was a small amount of editing done over the phone and he’d move through the text so fast that I could barely keep up, much less ask him to slow down or repeat himself. I remember thinking the whole time, “You’re in way over your head!” And I was. But I’m no less in awe today than I was at the beginning—I still wouldn’t call him anything other than Mr. Vidal.

What LGBT authors have you most enjoyed working with and why? What authors would you like to work with in the coming years?

I’ve worked with a lot of famous LGBT writers—Edward Albee, E. Lynn Harris, Leslie Feinberg, Samuel R. Delany, Marijane Meaker, Andrew Holleran, and Dennis Cooper, to name just a handful who I especially enjoyed working with—but I think of all of them I’m closest to Ann Bannon and Edmund White. I spent a lot of time with Ann when I was starting off in San Francisco, shepherding her reissues through publication and attending many, many readings, and in the process came to feel as if she were my lesbian mother. Considering how warm and caring Ann is, I don’t see how anyone could not feel this way! As lovable as she is at her events, let me assure you that Ann is even more lovable when you know her personally. I became friends with Edmund later, after I moved to New York and knew practically no one. Actually, I didn’t know him either—I had Edmund’s email address from when I had approached him before I left California about working together on a collection, much as I’d approached Vidal. I said that I was new in town and asked if he would have lunch with me. I was nervous as hell but Edmund put me at ease immediately because he’s impossible not to like, especially when he turns on the charm and particularly after he offers to introduce you to his circle of important people, which he did. Not a week after that lunch I was sitting in his living room at a cocktail party meeting the people who were about to become my new friends. To whatever degree Vidal helped launch my career by saying yes to my first book, Edmund opened the door to the next chapter through graciously making connections for me. As for LGBT writers I’ve not yet worked with, I should be so lucky to publish Michael Cunningham, Clive Barker, Chuck Palahniuk, and Dorothy Allison.

Critics sometimes say that gay publishing is losing its steam, becoming a part of the bigger industry rather than remaining a specialty niche. Do you agree?

To the extent that LGBT people remain marginalized, our literature for the most part will be similarly marginalized, which is why presses like Alyson remain vital. I’m willing to take chances and set my own rules so far as that’s possible and my list of books reflects that freedom. I also know the LGBT market better than any editor at the big houses and my list reflects that, too. At the same time, the editors at the big houses are responsible for some of the best LGBT books on the market—much of which is more interesting to me personally than what some of our own LGBT presses produce. But if you subtract from these places all the comic memoirs about growing up a sissy or books by gay celebrities and novels by bestselling authors the presence of LGBT literature at the big houses is suddenly a lot less impressive. I don’t see this dynamic improving anytime soon.

As the Internet becomes such a vital tool for young LGBT people hoping to reach out to others like them, do you think the quintessential coming of age gay book is still important to this next generation? Please explain.

It depends on what the author at hand does with the quintessential coming of age book. If he or she recycles the old model as so many writers do, I see no point in publishing them. On the other hand if he or she shows us something new, takes into consideration the complexities particular to the here and now as so many writers don’t, I think there’s tremendous value. The Internet doesn’t render these kinds of books obsolete merely because it makes connecting with others who are also coming out easier than it was in the past. If anything the Internet encourages people to share their stories, which to me suggests that coming out is being written about more than ever, albeit less formally and presumably in a less anguished manner. But I think the basic notion of “coming out” has been further radicalized in new and exciting ways by the transsexual and transgender movements. There’s so much that remains to be written about obviously.

Why is publishing gay literature important? Do you anticipate a day when the notion of LGBT literature becomes simply literature?

So long as LGBT people are marginalized, there will be a need to tell our stories and most likely these stories will be told through LGBT outlets. Whether that’s via a book publisher (large or small), an e-publisher, or online, there’s room for everyone. Publishing gay literature remains important and will continue to remain important regardless of format because sometimes our lives can’t be reduced to a 4,000 word magazine article or a two hour film. Furthermore the simple act of reading a book length work and the satisfying intellectual demands reading makes on our imagination cannot be replicated by any other experience.
Of course we’re often told “gay literature is dead” and “no one reads,” usually by failed writers looking to justify their difficult circumstances. As a publisher I see this differently. I hear from LGBT readers all the time, many of them excited to learn about new titles but a fair number also disgruntled that our own presses aren’t producing more serious books. This is a complaint I take to heart as Alyson’s publisher. But the demand is there and we ought to take advantage of it. I don’t have to be a publisher to look around the subway car, as I did recently, and count sixteen people reading books—which is to say nothing of all the other people reading magazines, newspapers, and presumably reading online on their palm pilots. No one can argue that the publishing industry isn’t going through major upheavals at the moment, but what business isn’t these days? A lot of industries are in fact doing much worse. I don’t know how long it will take for LGBT literature to exist simply as literature, but for now I’m committed to publishing the most thoughtful, provocative and just plain good writing by and for LGBT readers I can. That’s something I know how to do very well!