The second book of a two-part series explores Louis’ ability to cope with lost loves and lost friends.
Last week’s reading of The Book of Isabel went well. It’s always good to connect with old friends, family, and meet new people. I find myself being more comfortable with my role as an author. I think I can really get used to appearances.
I find myself thinking about what kind of person I am when I do these readings. There was a time in my life when I did not like speaking in public. I can remember when I was in the 1st grade having to sing “It’s a Small World After All” in front of the whole school and freezing in front of everyone in gymnasium. That was the first time I has stage fright. Now, I feel that I have the capacity to talk to large crowds if I had to thanks to my various job training.
Not that this was a large crowd. This was more like a small listening session filled with people who support me. I’m so grateful for them and all the love they shown me. I knew going into this that not too many people would show because this is the summer time and any event you during this time can get a low turn out due to vacations and such. There a few people who did tell that they couldn’t when I announced the date so I knew that the crowd would be a cozy size. I still found myself surprised by those who did come.
What I do find funny is my own reactions to events like this. I no longer get nervous by the events themselves but I get extremely anxious because I don’t want to be late. It’s actually quite insane. I’m not sure if it’s because of my event experience that has taught me that events need to start on time and thus being late isn’t an option or maybe I’m turning into some kind of control freak. If it is the latter then I will make sure that whenever I do enter into a contract that I ask for only red starburst in my hospitality rider. lol
Anyway, Hellphone in Brooklyn was a nice place. I enjoyed the venue. Books were sold and signed and a good time was had. Sorry to those who missed it. Perhaps I will do another.
You can still order The Book of Isabel at anytime here on my site. Thank you to Raquel Penzo for hosting and interviewing me on stage. Thank you all for coming out and do not forget to rate the book!
There are just no words. Do you know how hard that is for a writer to say that? What else is there to say that hasn’t already been said? What other line needs to be drawn that hasn’t already been drawn? What other think pieces need to be written?
We can repost, retweet, or reblog things that we see on the internet. I can say Black Lives Matter all day to our respective audiences and it would be preaching to the choir. I can say Black Lives Matter to the other side of that line and it will be taken as anti-cop rhetoric.
So what happens now? There are no more words. We can protest and march but what will that get us? We see how police react. We see how no one listens to anything that makes sense. We can see how the media deflects with stories about emails and presidential conventions. The narrative has changed from “terrorism” to police shootings.
Some would argue that this is same thing.
I just have no words. People have been blocked and unfriended because these are the times we are living in of social media activism. I have blocked people from all stages of my life, grammar school, high school, college, and professional life. Each time, it is the same thing, a blatant disrespect for someone’s life.
I just have no words.
I can list the names of the Black/Latino men and women that have been killed by police this year, or last year, or the year prior. Would that matter? Would that change the minds of people on the other side of the line? Doubtful. So what words can I choose that help?
What words will help to explain that just because I’m pro black does not mean I’m anti cop? I’ve written two books, 203,615 words, and there no just no words for me right now.
Hey man. Let’s chat for a bit. I need to get this off my chest because it has been bothering me for a bit.
I feel like I need to have this conversation with you, dude. So let’s pretend we’re sitting down at a bar of your choice and we’re drinking whatever swill you like. I will even do you the favor of setting the mood for you. This “bar” has been pretty much dead since the NBA Finals ended so it’s just me, you, the bartender, and a couple of semi drunk people who just ordered another pitcher of beer. Baseball is on TV and Drake is playing through the speakers.
I’m here to break the bad news to you. I feel that it may be better if it came from me since you think I participate in that man code you hold yourself to. It’s hard to just blurt it out because, to be honest, you’re pretty sensitive and I don’t want to shatter your ego. The thing is… I noticed how you spoke to that woman on the street you barely know and I feel that I need to tell you that this shit isn’t cool.
Women owe you nothing.
Don’t get me wrong, dog. Her body was tight and that sun dress she had on gave you visions you’ll be stroking to later, but she doesn’t owe you her time. She doesn’t owe you her number and she certainly doesn’t owe you a smile. I mean, why should she smile? You noticed her anyway without her satisfying this smiling fetish you apparently have. Of course, you called her an ugly bitch anyway for not complying as if you own the streets. Which, by the way, calling her ugly makes no sense because you’re no prize yourself, my dude.
I know, the sarcasm isn’t necessary. Let me get you a beer and while we wait just answer this question for me: Has this ever worked?
I mean, have you ever gotten a number from cat calling? I know you hate that phrase because you just want to approach a woman in the only way you know how but I just want to know, has it ever worked? Despite that it’s also harassment, I’m curious to know if that type of game ever resulted in a date? Are you looking for a date? Do you even like women?
Oh… you’re looking for ass. I get it now. It’s not about the woman then, it’s about her body. Because you think you own it. No, I’m not putting words into your mouth, I’m just making the (right) assumption that you think, by giving women any attention, she’s required to at least acknowledge your presence.
Women owe you nothing.
Yeah, I know. I’m one of those bleeding heart liberals that think women should have equal rights (gasp). Imagine if they got paid the same or if they (God forbid) got paid more that us. What’s that? You wouldn’t date a woman that makes more money than you? Well that’s not a surprise. But listen buddy, let me wrap this up so you can go back to pretending that you don’t have insecurities about all this.
I want to tell you not to be that dude that tells women to smile on the street or yells out some crazy shit or follows them in hopes that she might say something. The truth is that you already are. You can fight me on Facebook and say that I’m pandering to women when in reality you’re just mad I’m not sticking up for “men’s rights”. I’m doing this for me because I can’t stand this shit anymore.
Enjoy your beer. Oh, and Heterosexual Pride is not a thing. Peace.