Fairy Tate.
Twinklefingers. Lucy Liu. Will the taunting ever end?
Lucas Tate suffers ridicule because of his appearance and sensitive nature.
When he’s not teased, he’s ignored, and he doesn’t know which is worse. He
feels unloved by everyone, but the one comfort in life is his music. What he
wants more than anything is to find a friend.
Much to his dismay, both his mom and a schoolmate
are determined to find him a boyfriend, despite the fact Lucas hasn’t come out
to them. His mom chooses a football player who redefines the term “heartthrob,”
while Trish pushes him toward the only openly gay boy at Providence High. But
Lucas is harboring a crush on another boy, one who writes such romantic poetry
to his girlfriend that hearing it melts Lucas into a puddle of goo. All three
prospects seem so far out of his league. Lucas is sure he doesn’t stand a
chance with any of them—until sharing his gift for music brings him the courage
to let people into his heart.
1.
Tell
us a little about yourself and your book.
I grew up in Germany where I feasted on
Gummibärchen, wandered through the woods on many a Volksmarch, and dreamed of
one day living in a castle on a mountain with a boy who knew how to rock a pair
of lederhosen. The Fates had other plans for me, but I’m not complaining.
Although I aspired to be an author at an early age and often wrote for fun, I
ultimately pursued a career in teaching instead. I have a Bachelor’s Degree and
two Master’s Degrees in Mathematics and Education. I’ve taught both middle and
high school and enjoy working with young adults.
I have a passion for math and art, and like
to dabble a bit with web and graphic design. I also have an affinity for all
things geeky (read: Star Trek and TRON). Although I am extremely left-brained
(logical, rational, orderly), my artistic, creative side never ceases to flail
around in a desperate attempt to be noticed. I spend my days reading, writing,
solving math problems, and playing with my feisty German Pinscher. I live in
North Carolina with my husband, my pup, and my troop of sock monkeys.
I began writing LGBTQ fiction to help
address issues of bullying and low self-esteem among young adults. My short
story, SOCK IT TO ME, SANTA!, explores one boy’s struggle to come out in a
hostile school environment. My debut novel, PLAY ME, I’M YOURS, takes the
reader on an emotional journey in search of love and self-acceptance.
What
was the very first story you ever wrote? How old were you?
When I was sixteen, I had a short story
published in my school’s literary magazine. The story was called The Girl in the Strawberry Patch and was
about a young woman grieving the loss of her mother. Looking back at it now,
I’m not too impressed; the metaphors, for example, were cringe-worthingly
obvious, but I was proud of it at the time. It wasn’t the first story I ever wrote, but the first I remember by
name. I loved writing when I was a kid. One of the best presents I received in
my youth was an electric typewriter that my parents bought me when I was twelve.
My best friend and I would write stories for each other, just for fun. We mostly
wrote about boys, hehe.
What
did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a writer for the longest
time. I continued to write throughout high school. I was a journalist and
editor for my school’s yearbook, and I took creative writing classes. An
unexpected pregnancy kept me from going to college right after high school, and
in those years away from school, my priorities changed. I eventually became a
math teacher, and although I’ve never regretted the decision, I’m thrilled to
be writing again.
What
made you want to write this book?
The subject of bullying has always been a
sensitive one for me. My son was bullied a
lot growing up; it was a painful time for both of us. Not only that, but as
a teacher of middle and high school-aged students, I’ve seen my share of kids
who were easy targets, and my heart goes out to them.
After reading several books about bullying,
including Jeff Erno’s Dumb Jock and
Adelhardt H.’s Always Joey, I knew I
wanted to write a novel of my own. With each of the stories I was reading at
the time, I found myself growing frustrated, either because I wanted the plot
to go in a different direction, or I wanted the characters to be different.
After reading several Gay-For-You stories that just didn’t seem believable, the
(secondary) character of Alex formed in my head, and I decided right then I had
to tell his story.
Where
is your book set? What made you choose this place?
Play Me, I’m Yours is set in Baltimore, Maryland. That’s
where I was living at the time I wrote the novel, and it was a comfortable fit.
The title of the book, Play Me, I’m Yours,
was taken from an international urban artwork project that began in 2008,
wherein street pianos are decorated by local artists and placed in public
locations throughout host cities for anyone to play and enjoy. Baltimore has
not yet been a host for the “Play Me, I’m Yours” street piano project, but it
easily could be. Baltimore has a lot to offer for music and art lovers,
including the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (BSO) and the Baltimore Museum of
Art (BMA).
Which
one of your characters is most like you? How so?
No two characters in this book are alike.
Everyone has very distinct personalities, which, for the characters, is at
times a blessing and other times a curse. I most closely resemble the main
character, Lucas. We don’t necessarily have the same hobbies or interests, but
we think alike. We’re both introverts and internalize everything that happens
to us in much the same way. One of the biggest differences between us, however,
is that Lucas has a very difficult time trusting people due to the constant
taunting he endures. I tend to always assume the best of people and take what
they say at face value.
What
is a typical working day like for you? Where do you write? Do you wait for
inspiration? Do you set certain writing goals? Are there any specific tools you
use to help you write?
I
use a laptop, so I bounce back and forth between sitting in my comfy chair in
my home office or the not-so-comfy chair near the back door, where I can let my
highly energetic dog in and out. He gets bored when I’m on my computer and
constantly interrupts me by laying his head in my lap and giving me sad puppy eyes.
I
use Scrivener for all of my writing projects. I love it! I tend to write
slowly, and yes, I do wait for inspiration to hit, so setting short-term word
count goals is futile. I do attempt to write at least 2,000 words a day when
I’m committed to a project.
Is
there anything you do while writing that other people may find strange?
Haha,
I really want to make something up so I seem quirky, but no, nothing strange. I
like to start with a detailed outline and go from there. I have a deplorable
habit of leaving my web browser open at all times, so I tend to get distracted
easily by email and other Internet-related time sinks. But that’s not
strange—just counterproductive! And I rationalize this by saying I have to do
research when a new idea pops into my head.
What
do you find the most difficult part of the writing process?
I
write slowly and am easily distracted (see above). I don’t think I’ve ever
written more than 3,000 words in a day, and that’s a full day of writing for
me. When I hear people talking about hitting 5K or more in one day, it
completely boggles my mind.
What
has your experience been with traditional publishing vs. self-publishing?
I
have done both. The biggest advantage of self-publishing is that it can be done
quickly and with complete control over all aspects of production (editing,
cover art, promo, etc.). My self-pubbed short story, Sock it to Me, Santa!, was published within a few weeks of
finishing the final draft of the manuscript, whereas my novel, Play Me, I’m Yours, is being released
six months after the submission date. With the self-pub, I’ve been able to host
as many giveaways as I please, at no additional cost to me.
What
I’ve enjoyed most about working with a traditional publisher is the feeling of
belonging to a family. Dreamspinner is very supportive of its authors, and I’ve
enjoyed getting to know some of the other authors who publish under their
press. It’s also very exciting to be a part of Harmony Ink, their young adult
imprint. My dream is to have my books be made available to young adult readers
in schools and libraries, and that’s more likely to happen by publishing with a
traditional press.
What can we expect to see from you
in the coming year?
Play Me, I’m Yours will be released April 1, 2013
from Harmony Ink Press.
I’ve
recently started a new writing project, but it’s too soon to reveal much about
it yet. I’d love to have it released prior to the GayRomLit retreat in October,
where I’ll be attending as a Supporting Author.
EXCERPT:
“OH, LOOK! There it
is!” Lucas fumbled with the camera, then shoved it in Mason’s hands and darted
off. If not for the throng of tourists milling about the city’s Inner Harbor,
pointing and smiling, Mason wouldn’t have believed he was witnessing his
seventeen-year-old brother skipping down the sidewalk.
“Daaaaaaad! He’s
doing it again,” Mason said as he passed the camera off to his father. No way
was he taking pictures of his older
brother acting like a schoolgirl.
“I know, son. Let him
have his fun. He’s been looking forward to this for days.”
“What’s the big deal?
It’s just some dumb piano.”
Mason pursed his lips
as his brother plopped down on the whimsically painted piano bench.
***
AS LUCAS took a seat
on the empty bench, he stared at the work of art before him. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d been so excited. He’d have to remember to thank
Mrs. Davidson for advertising the “Play Me, I’m Yours” street piano project in
class. He was probably the only one listening as she explained that the project
involved more than 500 pianos placed in public locations throughout the world.
Maybe it wasn’t worth
getting that excited about, but when he saw the flyer, his eyebrows shot up.
“Cyndi Lauper!” he squealed and then immediately wished he hadn’t. He heard the
snickers in the room and abruptly felt the rush of heat to his cheeks.
Mrs. Davidson had
given him her kindest smile and said, “I hope you all have an opportunity to
visit one of the pianos while they’re here. I’m sure you’ll find it rewarding
to share the gift of music with your community.”
Teachers always said
corny stuff like that. Like playing music for strangers would make any sort of
difference. Sure it might entertain for a few minutes, but that was it. Even
so, Lucas couldn’t wait to get home and read more about the project online. Not
that he had any deep desire to commune with his fellow citizens. More like he
wanted the opportunity to channel his inner Cyndi. Cyndi Lauper was his
childhood idol, and there she was on that flyer, perched upon a street piano.
She was the reason he
sat here now. Lucas brushed his fingers across the piano keys. Even if Cyndi
hadn’t played this particular piano, she was with him in spirit. The piano,
covered with bold areas of red and yellow paint, reminded him of her. It was
adorned with black and white curlicues and ample amounts of glitter.
Multicolored layers of tulle and strings of shiny beads trimmed the bench. He
worried that he looked like he was wearing a skirt—no, a punk tutu—as he sat.
Lucas looked down at the piano, where “Play Me, I’m Yours” had been painted on
the keys. What would Cyndi do? She was bold and brazen. She wouldn’t care what
other people thought, and even if she did, she wouldn’t let it stop her.
“Dad! Get a picture.”
Lucas waved to his family, then plastered on his biggest smile and posed for
the camera. He planned to upload the picture to the project’s official website
later that afternoon. If he were lucky, maybe Cyndi would see it.
“Oh my God,” his
brother groaned. “He’s such a dork.”
Lucas ignored the
comment. His brother always called him a dork. He didn’t mind it so much. It
was nicer than the names most kids called him.
He took a breath,
hoping to calm his nerves. A few people gathered nearby, but he didn’t recognize
any of them. He wouldn’t have had the courage to go through with the
performance if he saw any kids he knew from school.
“This one’s for you,
Cyndi,” he said as he struck his first note.
Lucas never sang when
he played. He had a decent voice, but he preferred to let the music speak for
itself. Maybe that was his classical training showing. He loved playing
classical pieces, but pop songs were more fun.
Lucas knew this song
well, though he’d never played it for an audience before. It was one of his
favorites. It reminded him of happy times spent with his mom.
When he was younger,
he and his mom had housecleaning “parties.” All that really meant was his mom
played loud music, and he helped her clean the house. She’s So Unusual was
their favorite “party” album, and he loved to “bop” around the house with a
feather duster. Of course, back then he thought bopping meant dancing. He had
no idea “She Bop” was a song about masturbation, and the mental image of
“bopping” around the house with a feather duster now made him laugh.
A larger crowd formed
around the piano, but Lucas hardly noticed. Lost in the moment, he pounded the
keys as he entered the chorus of the upbeat song. The spectators clapped to the
beat and sang what few lyrics they could recall. It was one of those songs
everyone knew but no one could sing.
As the intensity of
the music heightened, so did Lucas’s body movements. It began with biting his
lower lip and bobbing his head and progressed to rocking back and forth in his
seat. By the second chorus he periodically lifted his butt clear off the bench
and scrunched up his nose, oblivious to everything but the music.
***
IT WAS too much for
Mason, who noticed his father also averted his eyes when Lucas went into funny
face mode.
“Will!”
Mason turned to see a
man approaching his father.
His father reached
out and shook the man’s hand. “Hey, Steve. How’re you?”
Steve repositioned
his Baltimore O’s cap. “Good. Good to see you. Is this your son?”
Mason’s father
clapped him on the back. “Sure is. This is Mason.”
“A fine young man
you’ve got there,” Steve said. “What are you guys up to?”
His father’s eyes
darted to Lucas, and he hesitated.
Mason took advantage
of the opening. “We were on our way to Sports Tank and got distracted by Jerry
Lee Lewis playing the piano over there.”
“Yeah,” Steve said.
“Liberace’s more like it. That kid looks queer as a three-dollar bill.”
“Totally,” Mason
said, crossing his arms.
His father’s posture
stiffened. “It was nice seeing you, Steve. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Yep, you too. Gotta
run. Good seeing you.”
As soon as Steve
turned to leave, Mason’s father gave him a stern look.
“What?” Mason asked.
“He said it, not me.”
The conversation was
cut short as the crowd began to clap and cheer for Lucas, who offered a bashful
smile in return.
“Lucas,” his father
said abruptly. “Let’s go.”
“Dad, can’t I play
one more?”
“No. Let’s go.”
