In May of 2017, Charlotte Shane emailed to ask me if I was interested in publishing my first novel with TigerBee Press. A reader from back in the Tumblr days, I was astonished to have heard from her at all. Four years later, it’s safe to admit that no other indie publisher responded to my book pitch. (I mean, I get it.)
My girlfriend and I were on vacation. We had just left New York—my first visit to the city where I now live—and were in Chicago, another first. The email was surprising and thrilling and all of that. I had recently read the elusive N.B., a collection of Charlotte’s aughts-era writing about cruelty, kindness, loyalty, love, and money. As a former worker writing about people living lives like ours, I felt safe entrusting my book to Charlotte, who as N.B. and many other projects have demonstrated is an incredible (and criminally underrated) talent. I couldn’t have been happier that she chose me back.
But when I announced to my girlfriend that someone wanted my book (!), she ignored me. When I showed her the email, she looked at it and squeezed out a wan smile. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to take a shower.” And she did.
Though three years into our relationship I should have expected such a reaction from her—a dyke who located her strength in gelid emotionless (unless you counted anger, which she didn’t)—the resulting argument lasted until we got back to Berkeley. I didn’t leave her for another six months, and each one of them was miserable enough that I’ve since forgotten how much growth happened alongside that misery. As I wrote in my journal entry about Charlotte’s email:
i'm changing. i’m feeling differently. such a body, is mine, one that senses like a flower, like a hunted animal, like a touchscreen -- intense but inexact, aware but often wrong. it is difficult.
Here on DAVID, I’ve written a disproportionate amount about the earthquake room, which, fine; its personal significance is disproportionate. Or maybe not. A girl’s first book is a big deal. A girl’s second, even bigger! So I wanted to let you know that my next novel, X, will be available on June 28, 2022. Criss-cross your calendars. Here’s a brief description, in case you’re considering a pre-order.
X takes place in a New York City parallel to the one we know. In the midst of violent political purging, the government has begun encouraging the semi-voluntary “exporting” of undesirable citizens. It’s against this backdrop that Lee—dyke and sadomasochist—encounters someone who changes their life before disappearing, drawing Lee out of a post-breakup stupor and into the pursuit of pure, perverted pleasure. In homage to the queer and kinky noir of Schulman, Califia, and Delynn, Davis’s second novel follows Lee as they attempt to track down X before she exports and is gone forever.
Since I’m in a celebratory mood about it, and since DAVID has gained so many new followers recently, Bad Gay is indulging me with another book giveaway. Thinking about submitting a request for advice from an anonymous gay therapist who’s not afraid to hurt your feelings with the truth? Now’s your chance!
We’re giving away a copy apiece of Brontez Purnell’s 100 Boyfriends and Joss Lake’s Future Feeling to the first two people to email us at badgayadvice@gmail.com for advice (no, you don’t get to pick which). Plus, everyone who submits receives a free 3-month subscription to DAVID, which means they can access all the locked posts, like this scorcher about codependence, or this one, with special co-host, leather worker, and trans masq Frankie. While we welcome all writers and all problems (except for heterosexuality. That one’s on you.), Bad Gay asked me to remind you that short questions, easy questions, frivolous questions, weird questions, and stupid questions are all very welcome. Grist for the bitch, baby.
You’re hearing it here before I tell Twitter and Instagram, so get to writing.
David tweets at @k8bushofficial.
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David Davis