My greatest battle of wills in Chicago, my huge arc of self vs. self conflict, has been avoiding bookstores as much as possible. Bookstores are my Achilles heel; I can't remember a time in my life where I couldn't spend hours and a significant chunk of my bank account in them. These bookstores have been even more alluring because, through all of Pride month, just about every bookstore I've passed has had a Pride display, tables full of books full of gay. Today I finally gave into the temptation and visited Unabridged, a bookstore in Boystown. The Pride displays were beautiful.
This lapse in my self-control lead to the fulfillment of the quest I failed last night. I went into the store hoping to find two gay books, one history book and one fiction book. Almost right away I found The Stonewall Reader in the Pride display. This book is exactly what I wanted. It's a gay anthology with three distinct sections: before Stonewall, during Stonewall, and after Stonewall. Penguin Classics put it together for the fiftieth anniversary. So far I've read the foreword, and that alone was powerful. I plan to read the book slowly. I want time to really take in each piece of writing.
There wasn't nearly enough gay fiction, a problem I have years ahead of me as a writer to rectify, but I settled on Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. There wasn't anything gay in the description, but things I've seen online about the TV series that was adapted from the book lead me to believe I'll find something gay in it anyway. There was one more book I wanted, an anthology of short stories called A People's Future of the United States, but I exercised at least a little restraint and left that book for another day.
I walked back to where I'm staying feeling equal parts happy and foolish. I have two delightful new books, one a well of knowledge I was desperately seeking, but I have to admit it was a very poor bit of budgeting on my part. I tapped into some of the money I had budgeted for food to buy the books. I feel like this is something I should regret, but I really, really don't. I found a good deal of humor in the situation when I got back to my hotel. Right now I'm staying in the nicest room I've stayed in in my life, courtesy of Dad and special to keep me close to Pride. When I got back, I sat in the middle of the floor and scooped peanut butter out of a jar with pieces of store brand bread. I can't imagine a more hilarious image, or an image that would better fit me.
This lapse in my self-control lead to the fulfillment of the quest I failed last night. I went into the store hoping to find two gay books, one history book and one fiction book. Almost right away I found The Stonewall Reader in the Pride display. This book is exactly what I wanted. It's a gay anthology with three distinct sections: before Stonewall, during Stonewall, and after Stonewall. Penguin Classics put it together for the fiftieth anniversary. So far I've read the foreword, and that alone was powerful. I plan to read the book slowly. I want time to really take in each piece of writing.
There wasn't nearly enough gay fiction, a problem I have years ahead of me as a writer to rectify, but I settled on Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. There wasn't anything gay in the description, but things I've seen online about the TV series that was adapted from the book lead me to believe I'll find something gay in it anyway. There was one more book I wanted, an anthology of short stories called A People's Future of the United States, but I exercised at least a little restraint and left that book for another day.
I walked back to where I'm staying feeling equal parts happy and foolish. I have two delightful new books, one a well of knowledge I was desperately seeking, but I have to admit it was a very poor bit of budgeting on my part. I tapped into some of the money I had budgeted for food to buy the books. I feel like this is something I should regret, but I really, really don't. I found a good deal of humor in the situation when I got back to my hotel. Right now I'm staying in the nicest room I've stayed in in my life, courtesy of Dad and special to keep me close to Pride. When I got back, I sat in the middle of the floor and scooped peanut butter out of a jar with pieces of store brand bread. I can't imagine a more hilarious image, or an image that would better fit me.
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