Homofactus Press

Jay has asked me to blog about my thoughts and experiences as I work on creating King Guise. Here is my first post.

So here it is–my publisher has been pushing –prodding–yelling (over email) for me get MOVING on a project of ‘ours.’ Truth of the matter is –I am not so sure it is ours — and if it is —where the intersection of our joint idea meshes and makes ’sense’ — ya know. I have come to realize that there are some crucial things I do not know or realize. I am the most basic kind of novice when it comes to book production — I can see it — almost touch and turn the pages when I dream of it — but… I know I need a timeline — but for what things — who do I pull in besides a photographer to shoot the shots we don’t receive — right? I guess I thought I would get some kind of list or something. It is really hard to admit this — and I need some remedial help.

See he ask me on to a project he was working with some other kat on — and I was offered the chance to work on something similar– which i gladly hopped up and did — The project — was originally supposed to be an anthology of writings and other creative works by ‘maso-transfolks’ — whether that be king, ftm, gender illusionist, studs, trannie bois, butches… When it seemed a bit derailed –only two entries — we re-grouped and thought–let’s this from the angle of coffetable book — pics and some creative text — easy enough right…well I would have lost big if I’d have laid down a large bet — cuz it has been more difficult than herding cats — if I wasn’t experiencing it myself I would be hard pressed to

See I know all these great subjects for the book — all these talented folks that I have had conversations about sharing our work and welcoming more public exposure and how to make that happen. Here I think is a vehicle. Yet we are up to maybe four or five submissions and you would not believe what it has taken.. I have personally emailed and called folks — I have posted and still post on whatever I can find that i think ‘folks’ even if it is just one –would be — my publisher had me make a wish list and personally reached out to folks — same answer cross the board–hey this is great — count me in–what do you need–I respond –they say ok and then NOTHING???

I have asked for feed back on the call — I get very little –”you should change or re-ask this point or that” — time and time again I get “I don’t know why I haven’t sent anything yet.” It is definately a phenomenom. Some stranged resistance — weighted — anchored even — silence

now I know folks are busy — but most of these folks have pieces already that they just have to click attach and send

Now as I say this –I am the kettle calling the pots black. I am more than 100 days late ‘handing in/finishing tasks’ for my end of the project — as editor — relatively easy pieces–so I am told — I haven’t even handed in my own pieces — now what is this about?????? Myself –my aquaintances and friends have spent quite a few hours –dancing around this issue — as folks of color — we have craved for images that reflect who we are –so that we remember our legacies of/as “winners” — we have agreed that the positive images and sometimes painful stories and the vunerable truths that reveal the multiplicity of our connections to each other in very public ways are often invisible — tucked tightly just below the surface. And that we have a vested interest in creating situations where this information is more readily availiable than it was to us. We have agreed in whole and in part about a familial connection with the space of invisibility. And we are stalled. Yah dig?

Like — we connect and talk constantly about not being seen –about the gaps– am I so overwhelmed by it that when the opportunity arises to have a visible experience — I freeze — ‘we’ self detonate? — I am sooo fuckin’ (sorry granny) wideopen and scared — I have been trying to claw my way out –of my doubt, but I just realized that what I have been experiencing is much like — have you ever found yourself thrashing around in knee/stomach deep water? For at least 5 seconds of the experience it crossed your mind that you were lost..not sure where the surface was…thinking for sure there was a real possibility of drowning? Then your heel bumped the bottem and you stood up? And whether you laughed it off or admitted your fear — it doesn’t change the terror you experienced? And I think I am stuck there — afraid I might not be so lucky, again. And for me there is this sticky residue in this space –it stops me short of breath and so doggedly tired — in my tracks — yah know?

I have faced this before–with all I have accomplished I still struggle with success–especially impending success — I do all these ‘acting out’ self sabotage behaviors — they cut at me–like razors — and I know stress is life and there are burdens to bare –it still effects me– I remember smashing my wrist with a hammer once –just to try and feel some pain —or when I found myself snatched back by hands I could only feel as I, with a self destructive purpose , stepped off the curb in front of a Columbus Ohio Transportation Authority bus. Mind you this wasn’t my original thought — I was dazed out — I was trying to sort out some shit with my new queer family –my old hetro family — my part in giving my child up for adoption, my trans resistant self and just pure self hate. I carry the guilt of an almost bastard child, and that of the minister’s lineage “go queer.”

I am not nearly as dramatic now–thanks be to Gawd! I don’t shirk my calls to ‘a better way’ in the same physical manner. I suppose in some sense I have gone underground with it–most folk who know me would be hard pressed to believe how very unsure of my actions, I am — they’d just think I was having a artistic meltdown, bout of insecurity or depression. But as a straddler of cultures I often find myself feeling like — dare I say it — dare I actually put it out here…phuk!!! Like a fraud — sometimes for fitting in and more often for fitting out — get me? And I am paralyzed by it, Its like none of the molds/parts set for me fit right — strong and intelligent versus girl,tomboy, athlete, ‘masculine highlights’ versus woman, from the ‘down on tha riv-vahr cultures’ set in opposition to “the city life”– much like urban warfare and re-gentrification, history and the future. Kinda heavy right? And I cannot be sure I am not wallowing in it –it is always the case— when I am being really open with my emotive state — I feel a bit embarassed and perhaps “tellin’ too much.”

And logically I know I have to let go of the guilt that comes from my belief that I somehow deserve to fail.

Isn’t that crazy? The more I accomplish the louder I hear “you/I can’t do this” — too much going on — can’t juggle it all –and so on” How do I keep up on the calls and the emails and the four part time jobs and the childcare and my wife and our home and the opportunity for fullfillment of dreams?

So I wonder — beings of the diaspora — you too?

I wonder — beings of the diaspora — you too