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Gays Reading
Gaze reading where the greats drop by trendy authors. Tell us all the who, what and why. Anyone can listen Comes we are spoiler free. Reading from stars to book club picks we're the curious minds can get their picks. Say you're not gay. Well that's okay there something everyone. Hello and welcome to Gay's Reading. I'm your host, Jason Blitman, and on today's episode we've got VE Schwab talking to me about her modern book, Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil. And my guest male lover reader is Melissa Febos, who tells me about what she's been reading and talks about her new memoir, the Parch Season. Both books are out now and both of their bios can be found. In the show notes, huge announcement over here on Gays Reading. I am so excited to be partnering with Allstora to launch the Gays Reading Guide Club, which you could join today for$1. The link is in the show notes. The first book, the July choose is Disappoint Me by Nicola Dine, last week's guest, gay reader. I will be choosing exclusively LGBTQIA plus authors and. Books that I contact accessibly
Bury Your Gays
Worst Muse
This trope is the presentation of deaths of LGBT characters where these characters are nominally able to be viewed as more expendable than their heterosexual counterparts. In this way, the death is treated as exceptional in its circumstances. In aggregate, queer characters are more likely to die than straight characters. Indeed, it may be because they seem to have less purpose compared to straight characters, or that the supposed innate conclusion of their story is an early death.
The reasons for this trope have evolved somewhat over the years. For a good while, it was because the Depraved Homosexual trope and its ilk pretty much limited portrayals of explicitly homosexual characters to villainous characters, or at least characters who weren't given much respect by the narrative. This was due to negative attitudes towards queer people and due to the Moral Guardians' Hays Code, which did not allo
Last deer season, he took me on a hunt with him. At four in the morning, he shook me awake. He made love to me. He always makes love to me before the track. There is a quality to his efforts that is different, more intense. There is a rawness to how he touches me, as if he is preparing himself for what he is about to do. He takes me. He uses me. He marks me. I grant him. I revel in it. When my husband took me hunting with him, he told me not to shower after he lay on superior of me thick , sweaty, his lips pressed against the dark curve of my neck. As we dressed, I still felt him inside me, sticking to my thighs. It was icy outside. In the cab of his truck, I leaned against his arm, my eyes closed. He drank coffee from a thermos that used to belong to his father, who is dead from shadowy lung. My husband’s beard smelled enjoy coffee for the rest of the day.
We spent hours in the deer blind, doused in deer piss, waiting. I grew bored but stayed silent. Several does passed before us but my husband held one finger to his lips. We were waiting for a buck. “I want to eliminate something majestic to
"When I moved home after college, I became really close to a friend still living there. It was a small town and there wasn't much to do, so I spent all my time with her. I was there for her when she was recovering from a surgery. Her shitty boyfriend couldn't be bothered to come assist her and I had the time and desire to be there for her. We drifted apart when I went advocate to grad school and she got back together with her boyfriend (again). Our experience got me through a rough patch in my life and now, I am more open and aware of how I undergo about other people."
"We were spending so much of our free time together. We'd play video games together, work out at the gym together, and leave out of our way to dress up to do something special together. I was sleeping over in her bed and just cuddling like three nights a week.
I had no thought what was going on because young, queer, repressed me had never gotten the chance to experience this kind of thing before. I think she was a little lonely and my anxiety disorder was really terrible at that point. We communicate sometimes, but there's distance — phy