#queernovel

[im-juleo]

“They shouted after him, “The Lord is good! The Lord is great! He has given us an angel of beauty! Angel of beauty! Angel of beauty!””

-Angels Before Man by @nicosraf

[joyffree]

Leaving Winter for a Desert Sky: A raw, emotional novel of recovery and familial reckoning by Skylar Lyralen Kaye Book Tour with Author Inte

Leaving Winter for a Desert Sky: Literary Queer Fiction by Author Skylar Lyralen Kaye, Kobo Plus, Book Tour with Author Interview,dysfunctio

A reluctant prodigal queer daughter returns to her dysfunctional alcoholic family and struggles to climb out of her familiar role of savior.

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

In these ghostly places late summer nights: He was half-waiting to be born. Having vanished from his former life, having shed his previous self with the suits he had left behind in a basement in Washington, he was a ghost, in fact, waiting to come to life through love.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

By the time he arrived each evening at 245 Wall Street—where he typed up that day's documents for a patent lawyer he never saw—the financial district was as deserted as the floor of a factory after the whistle has blown, and men were scurrying home to their own erotic dreams. By the time he left, there was no one abroad but homosexuals and thieves, and it was with these he wandered.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

He went to Yale Club and wrote a long letter to his parents explaining his unhappiness with the law, and the next day he resigned from Courdet Brothers in order to “pursue a career in journalism.” What he wished to pursue was a career in love.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

He was more than ever certain that he had a vague romantic destiny. Little wonder that when he looked at strangers on the street now, his unquiet yearning for rescue went out to them.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

That night he got up out of bed and put on his maroon polo shirt, which everyone said he looked so handsome in, and went downstairs and drove off in his car, where he did not know. He just drove. (...) drove around in that crimson glow of doughnut shops and new-car showrooms, in which all things, cars, faces, bodies, gleam with an otherworldly light, and he kept driving—never admitting what he was about—until he came to Dupont Circle and there he stopped and got out under the green trees and met a man and went into the park and blew him.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance

[yourmysticalloveuniverse]

Now, at this moment, in this soft green twilight, this soft green Sunday evening, when the heart of the world seemed to lie beating in the palm of his hand, he sat in that huge house upstairs terrified that he would never live.

Andrew Holleran, Dancer from the Dance