I live in a 110-year-old Queen Anne house, on the corner of two picturesque streets in one of Aurora's historic neighborhoods. My house is meticulous both inside & out, and my grass is - literally - green enough to be used in a Scott's ad. My flowerbed is spectacular, as are the nine brilliant-red hanging geraniums on my porch. And did I mention that it's a covered, wraparound porch? With white wicker furniture and a fern on the table?
Seriously, with the exception of the frequent gay men smoking outside (in my matching wicker rocking chairs), my place looks like a goddamn Norman Rockwell painting.
Seriously, with the exception of the frequent gay men smoking outside (in my matching wicker rocking chairs), my place looks like a goddamn Norman Rockwell painting.
With all that in mind, I was standing in my basement dungeon this morning, trying to decide what I should take to IML. And by "basement dungeon," I mean the room that I keep locked to prevent my roommates' friends/family from accidentally finding my leather gear. Actually, the entire basement is a dungeon, with eye-bolts hidden everywhere - from ceilings to baseboards. The house's old cistern (a small cement "cavern," hidden behind the stairs) has been converted into a holding cell. Forget Christian Grey…I'm a goddamn suspect on Criminal Minds. Especially for those who notice that all the track lights (in the room where I keep my home-improvement tools) are red.
This is the first year that I'm actually staying in a hotel for IML. I won't be at he host-hotels (waaaaaaaaaay too many people for an alcoholic with an anxiety disorder), but I am staying nearby. So, this is also the first year that I've had to pack a suitcase for the event, and I cant help but feel like a predator. Socks, check. Skivvies, check. Restraints, rope, and leather hood...check, check, and check!
This is the first year that I'm actually staying in a hotel for IML. I won't be at he host-hotels (waaaaaaaaaay too many people for an alcoholic with an anxiety disorder), but I am staying nearby. So, this is also the first year that I've had to pack a suitcase for the event, and I cant help but feel like a predator. Socks, check. Skivvies, check. Restraints, rope, and leather hood...check, check, and check!
Seriously though, I never attend IML to "hook up." I usually go for the spectacle, and the feeling of camaraderie that comes from being surrounded by leathermen. It's also a great chance to meet guys from out of town (and out of state) whom I've met through social media - and more recently, through my website. But this year is different: I have an agenda. My plan is to introduce myself to as many potential readers as possible, passing out free softcover & electronic copies of Goodbye to Beekman Place. I'm excited, but also terrified. I'm packing Xanax as I speak.
Another thing that's different this year is that this will be my first IML in a decade where I'll be attending the event alone. Sure, I have plans to meet up with friends here & there, but I'm single this year - no strings, so to speak - and I can't help but look at IML with the eyes of possibility. And I DON'T mean the possibility of finding a partner, but rather, the readers' possibility - and the fact that Goodbye to Beekman Place marks the beginning of what I hope to be a fulfilling writing career in the second half of my life.
The men at IML are more than just my target audience; they're my core audience, and I sincerely look forward to meeting each and every one of them.
Another thing that's different this year is that this will be my first IML in a decade where I'll be attending the event alone. Sure, I have plans to meet up with friends here & there, but I'm single this year - no strings, so to speak - and I can't help but look at IML with the eyes of possibility. And I DON'T mean the possibility of finding a partner, but rather, the readers' possibility - and the fact that Goodbye to Beekman Place marks the beginning of what I hope to be a fulfilling writing career in the second half of my life.
The men at IML are more than just my target audience; they're my core audience, and I sincerely look forward to meeting each and every one of them.