Hi boys. It feels like forever since we’ve talked. I know that can’t be true because somehow I’ve managed to stay true to my biweekly publishing cadence despite moving across the country, getting engaged, cohabitating with my parents again (what) … but this past month has felt like an entire year. Anyone else feeling this seismic-river-rushing-end-of-summer energy? It feels like everything that was frozen and swirling and trapped inside has busted loose and is flashflooding through the canyon of my heart. Breakthrough after breakthrough. In hydrologic terms, we’re talking about creative flow rates of a million cubic feet per second. It feels like I’m finally in a place where I’m heading in the soul direction of my life.
Bro, what does that even mean? It means that I am writing a book. I’m writing a book that I am crazy about. I’m speaking about things I thought I could never say out loud, and it’s terrifying.
The book is a memoir about masculinity. But it’s bigger than that. It’s about being a feminist, transitioning, and hating yourself as a masculine person in this world. First, as a butch. Then, as a trans person. And then as a man (is that what I am?). This book is about alcoholism and dads and brothers and sports and lying. It’s about surviving an emotionally abusive queer relationship, becoming the bad guy, and figuring out how to get free. In this book, there are no good boys or fuckboys. There is just power, pleasure, violence, and our varying proximities to all of it.
Writing this book is requiring a lot from me. I am in new terrain. Fumbling in the dark through a lifetime of secondary trauma, complex experiences, and codependency is extremely layered. I am trying to archive what it means to be a trans guy in a culture that doesn’t know how to feel about masculinity (or trans people for that matter) and how to heal our patriarchal wounds without harming others.
Writing this book requires that start taking myself seriously as a literary artist—a Big Boy Author. I am signing up for an 8-week advanced memoir course at my local writing center. I am no longer panic-applying to lush copywriting jobs that give me financial security in exchange for my soul. I am fighting the parts of myself that don’t feel good enough, clever enough, worthy enough to make a living off my creative writing. I am trying to clear the path of anything that might get in my way.
Writing this book is forcing me to listen to myself and look at the places in my life where I still show up small. I think I was afraid of taking up space for so long that I forgot what my own voice sounded like. This happened in most intimate partnership but it trickled out and started to show up in other areas of my life as well. I stopped being able to make simple decisions, even years later—paralyzed in the grocery store aisle while that one Liz Phair song plays, texting AJ pictures of varying toothpaste brands, praying for her to text me back so I won’t get it wrong. Terrified of making the wrong choice, of disappointing the person I love over stupid, trivial things. I still struggle to trust myself. Facing all these demons is a beautiful and scary and daunting and necessary thing.
When I first started BOYS, I didn’t believe that people would want to pay me for my writing alone. I felt as if I needed to provide you with something “real” so that I wouldn’t feel like a bad person. As a caretaker, giving advice comes naturally to me (in my personal life, it’s actually something I have to work extra hard not to do), so an advice column felt like a logical component of my newsletter to monetize. I thought this would be an easy thing I could offer in exchange for a paid subscription. But I sat down today to write this month’s advice column—the precious thing you all pay me for—and this came out instead. Part of my work in becoming a Big Boy Author means that I am going to start switching things up here.
Here are three cards I pulled this week from my Energía Intention Deck: flow, trust, build.
Flow: I didn’t realize how loud the voice in my head was saying you better hold up your end of this deal or else everyone will hate you. I think it’s the same voice that tells me that my partner will break up with me if I buy the wrong type of toothpaste. Turns out, I’m severely allergic to disappointing others and have been known to go to extreme lengths of self-denial, deprivation, and damnation to avoid it at all costs. But I’m trying to do something different here. I am trying to honor the tugging, the murmur, the roaming beast inside me that wants to flow.
I feel tremendously proud that—after years of inconsistency in my creative practice—I have devoted myself to writing this little newsletter every two weeks for a whole year and a half. I feel so much gratitude to everyone who has ever paid for a subscription here, whether that’s monthly or annually (even if you downgraded and can’t afford it anymore). Your subscriptions mean so much to me, and they have, in part, allowed me to start building the momentum I’ve needed to step fully into my creative life-force. During these past 18 months, I learned a lot about myself and a little about you. The commitment to these fortnightly deadlines has given me the structure, consistency, and reason to sit down and write. Sometimes, the structure is exactly what you need to be an artist. Other times, the structure is the only thing holding you back.
Trust: This is where you come in. I have decided to make the advice column portion of this newsletter free and available for everyone. This means if you are a free subscriber, you can now read How to not die when practicing poly and Blowjobs, compliments, and sex with t-boys, and that Members Only essay I wrote that one time, amongst others. I’m no longer going to be writing advice monthly, but I will answer your questions when the spirit strikes. I’m excited for how this change will free me up for writing more spontaneous pieces, more often. This also means the submission box for the 1-800-DREAMBOAT column is now open to everyone—free and paid subscribers alike. Whether you are a fellow writer, a queer hottie, or a lurker, no holds barred. Ask me any of your problematic, juicy, or vulnerable questions about sex, maculinity, being a writer, social media, ex drama, BDSM, queer community, blood family, and more.
Build: I want to take bigger risks in the writing I put online. My paid subscribers will be now paying now for my creative work instead of for advice, which I’m guessing is the reason why most of you are here anyway. Drawing a sacred circle around the creative work I share with paid subscribers will help me be more vulnerable, honest, and unpolished. I’ve got a bunch of recipes cooking in the kitchen that I can’t wait to share with you about astrology, anal play, locker room cruising, cowboy culture, gay shit, and all the other weird dispatches from the land of queer masculinity. I will also be layering in audio recordings, playlists, lessons on craft, and exclusive excerpts from my book as I write them.
Of course, if none of this feels aligned with what you signed up for ( no hard feelings! ), you can always cancel your monthly subscription or email me and I will try to work out a partial refund for annuals.
If you’ve ever been waiting for the right moment to upgrade to paid, now would be the time. By doing so, know that you will be directly contributing to my lifelong dream of becoming a Real Author and literary artist. It is scary to lean into being fully self-employed and let go of the financial stability that comes from working for someone else. But, by doing so, I am betting on myself and this greater vision for what I was put on this earth to do. I’m not an activist. I don’t know how to use Photoshop. I’m not very good at campaigning or community organizing or being on the frontline of a movement, but I can write the truth about certain things.
And I’d like to believe that you all read my words week after week, not just because of some transactional exchange, but because you want to see me succeed in this life as a writer and an artist. Thank you all for showing up, for reading this newsletter, and for embarking with me on this exciting new chapter in my life.
xo
Congrats! I will definitely continue subscribing - looking forward to seeing whatever surprises are in store :)
This essay has also lowkey got me looking at creative writing courses that are on offer near me. I've always wanted to write more. So thank you for that too!
yay!!!!!!