IT’S TIME TO PAR-TAY!
IT‘S TIME TO PAR–TAY!
31 Days of Brannan – Day 30
(The EVE of Jay’s San Francisco Concert @ Bottom of the Hill!!!)
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TODAY’S PLAYLIST: Jay’s VERY BEST MOVES!
So I was going to find something deep and moving from Jay’s catalog. That was the plan. That’s what I had envisioned when I started this back on July 1st. I would credit Jay with his deeply evocative lyrics, his lovely, dark prose, his haunting melodies and incredibly layered musical compositions.
That’s what I thought I’d do…
BUT I CAN’T! I am fucking over the damned moon that at the time I am writing this tomorrow, I’ll be watching Jay himself spin the magic that his fans have come to expect, that frequently comment on his youtube channel about how much they love what he does. Fans just as dedicated and just as fervent as I am. Hell, even my granddaughter competes with me on that score. Some days I think she wins. Some days… certainly not every day.
Jay’s a fixture in this house. In my car, on my iPod – he keeps company with other out gay artists and classical geniuses that are part of my repertoire. Brannan is next to Borodin and Bach. Housewife is right along side É Lucevan Le Stelle by Jose Cura. In my world he has the same place as Amadeus, as that other gay artist that his held in very high regard in my mind – Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. To my way of thinking, when you consider the times of these two geniuses (yes, I consider Jay’s prose to be deep and emotive enough that I give it that status – he speaks to the same fears and the same hopes and dashed dreams that I went through many years before he was even born – somehow his existence in many respects mirrored my own – so yeah, he gets a FUCKING genius status in my book – period.)
So Jay and Pyotr are equivalent – very different in their approach and scope of their work, but given Pyotr’s love of pretty boys – Jay would certainly have garnered his interest if he was around these days. So yeah, I think even Tchaikovsky might’ve been a Daddy admirer of Jay were he in the here and now.
But that’s beside the point right now. For me, I want to celebrate the musical joy and brilliance that is Brannan’s work. So for that, no deep evocative and emotive piece. No, instead, I’m just letting Jay dance his hot gayboy body all over the damned place.
Seriously, some boy better grab that soon – were I only 25 years younger… and unattached and not have a family of my own and… yeah. Okay. That was a lost cause even before I began that sentence. But that doesn’t mean someone else can’t snag that – I mean c’mon boys – what’s not to love there?
Anyway, enjoy Jay doing what he ALSO does best – shake his money makin’ body all over the damned place.
I can’t wait for tomorrow night. It simply can’t come soon enough – though when it does, I am sure it will all seem like a dream, one that I won’t want to end. It’s about as fan girl as I can get at my age. I’m good with that. Jay’s work is certainly worthy of this kind of adoration and fandom. Your work touches my past, even though we’ve never met, it gives me a journey of my own. My foray into writing my own works, of creating my own worlds – and for that I am grateful for that creative nudge.
Enjoy!
The Always, Then & Now Tour…
Please check out his site with links for his upcoming shows. I am definitely a late comer to the Brannan bandwagon whenever he pulls through my city. But now that I am going this year, I am making it a goal never to miss when he swings through town. I hope you take advantage of the opportunity as well. Also be sure to check out his web store at the following link.
- Jay’s Website – jaybrannan.com
Postcards from the soul…
31 Days of Brannan – Day 22
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Today’s Entry (not playlist) – postcard for my friend sasha from the golden gate bridge
So for today’s entry I wanted something different. We’re just a little over a week away from Jay’s concert in San Francisco. I wanted something personal from him. It’s not meant for us. It’s a love letter to a lost friend. But I get it. Living here you always have that feeling of how much loss there is in this beloved city of mine. San Francisco is an amazing place to live. It’s also a difficult place to live in. It straddles the line between euphoric and complete indifference – between decadence and oblivion.
She’s been called the Paris of the Pacific. I’ve never really thought of her as having a french appeal. She always felt distinctly English to me. Perhaps it’s the cold that whips through the city – reminding me of London in winter. Although you can get that blast of bone chilling cold – you can’t help but feel the indifference. But then, on a fog laden night, the way the city looks – haunting, as if all points in time collide into one moment. It’s truly magical. It’s those moments that I live for in this place I call home.
So back to Jay. To say his work carries a degree of genius is probably one of the greatest understatements I can ever put to digital paper. But that genius, that savoir-fare in his prose, the brilliance of his ability to connect to the root of our collective experiences and give the horrors, the loneliness, the despair but most of all the small seed of hope, it has to spring from somewhere.
I have always appreciated Jay’s brutal honesty. I aspire to that level of honesty – if only with myself. I am not there yet. But I keep trying. Jay’s music reminds me of where I am with myself.
It’s also why my first novel is deeply rooted and inspired by him. My boys go through some major pain. It was important for me to get the ‘will they get together’ question out of the way from the very first chapter. Putting your love interests together has always been the end goal of any tale. It’s the usual formula. Especially with the M/M romance genre. But my story was taking a different tract. My boys are together from the very first chapter – but that is where their adventure begins. Coming together is the least of their concerns. With what they go through in the telling of their tale, staying together is the hard part for them. Not because they aren’t devoted to each other. They are. Completely. Utterly. Profoundly.
But will it be enough? That is where the drama is rooted.
Jay poses the question in Rob Me Blind (which is about a boy who wants the boy of his dreams but ultimately doesn’t think his love is worth offering to the man he is attracted to) – in the song he even says that he expects when compared to anyone else he thinks the man of his dreams would chose another.
So I come back to Jay’s entry today that I am highlighting. It is the last few moments – the pain that is so evident in his eyes. Experiences that are solely his own – though they may be shared with his missing friend Sasha and through YouTube with all of us, but that pain is his. So here is my takeaway: Thank you Sasha. Jay says that you were instrumental in saving him from what appears to be a very dark place in his past. So, from all of us, thank you. We never met. We never had the pleasure, I am sure, to experience your light in this world. But through Jay’s heartfelt postcard to you, I can’t help but feel my own sense of gratitude for your existence – however brief and pained though it may have been. I am only too sorry we couldn’t all be there for you. Or like Jay, that we couldn’t say thank you for helping him when he needed it.
We don’t know the depth of what Jay was feeling – he only hints at it – but I do know he’s also commented about anxiety attacks he suffers from time to time. I’ve seen the tweets. It’s clear he feels things deeply. Painfully so – which he layers in his compositions. Writing is cathartic – whether it is in standard prose or via a musical composition. It’s the same thing. It allows a release of emotions you carry with you. For me it’s the voices of the boys that inhabit my world. They are born of my own experiences, of my hopes and fears.
There’s a lot of me in them. As I am sure there is a lot of Jay’s experiences in what he gifts us with in each of his creations/compositions. But even with all of that, this creative outlet, the pain is still there.
Is it enough? You hope that it is. You hope that there are others in your life that will be there for you when you need it most. Sasha was there for Jay. And in a very pivotal way, was there for all of us. Can you imagine all of these treasures that Jay has penned that would have never been if he wallowed in his dark place? As the artist in me, I shutter to think about that.
So, though we’ve never met, though I’ve never had the pleasure, thank you Sasha. For helping my favorite artist take another step when he possibly didn’t think he could.
So I too will add my thanks to Jay’s. Though I can’t claim any personal knowledge of what transpired, believe me it is no less heartfelt in that whatever gesture of support you made in his past. You helped him not feel like ‘such a freak’ when he needed to hear it most.
So thank you, in as heartfelt a way a stranger can express and mean it.
And just so you know… no matter what it is Jay, you’re not a freak cause I got news for you – we all are. I’ve been around the block in so many ways (had a very colorful life to draw upon) and I know from freaks. And we all are freaks. Anyone tells you they aren’t – yeah, well, that’s a BIG ol’ sign that they’re MORE of a freak than you’ll ever be.
Hell, normalcy – whatever the fuck that is – is freakish in its own right. The human condition is a collection of freakish moments that we all try to make sense of, try to bring order to the chaos. When it works for us, that’s great. We’re happy. When it doesn’t – some form of damage ensues and we try to cope. Some do better than others. But that doesn’t mean that you’re not worth the love and admiration of others. I don’t claim to know what you’re all about. We only have your postings on YouTube, your website and thankfully, your music. But what I have witnessed, what I have heard, what I’ve been grateful for seeing, is that you are a very complex and deeply feeling man. A creative and emotive individual. Worthy of every thing people say about you (even if all we really know is your public persona).
So thank you for hanging in there. For working through things with your music. It’s clear that your voice is needed in this world or your voice wouldn’t have carried as far as it has. And aside from all of that, I wouldn’t have my boys if it weren’t for you. My craft is blossoming because of Rob Me Blind. The album that meant so much to you when you released it – inspired me and my own journey. That was an unintended gift from you, I know that. I am not delusional enough to think that it was anything but fortuitous that I discovered you back in 2008. I know that. And I am grateful for that discovery of mine.
One that without Sasha I might not have ever had. I wouldn’t have had my boys. My wonderfully sexually emotive and deeply flawed boys of Mercy. My Angels of Mercy. And I just can’t imagine my world without them. The little world of Mercy, California that I invented – that only exists in my head and on the pages of my forthcoming series.
So thank you Sasha – you’ve touched lives you never knew were out there. But I am indebted to you just the same.
The Always, Then & Now Tour…
Please check out his site with links for his upcoming shows. I am definitely a late comer to the Brannan bandwagon whenever he pulls through my city. But now that I am going this year, I am making it a goal never to miss when he swings through town. I hope you take advantage of the opportunity as well. Also be sure to check out his web store at the following link.
- Jay’s Website – jaybrannan.com
A gift that keeps on giving… thoughts on writing
31 Days of Brannan – Day 17
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Today’s Playlist – Desert Rose (work in progress)
I think I am fond of this entry for two reasons.
1) It’s a work in progress – writing my own series of novels I get this. I get the desire to put it out there. You want some sort of acknowledgment for your efforts. It’s the battle between creation and acceptance.
2) It’s creation – nothing is more stirring to me than an artist creating.
So I am half-way through my oeuvre, my collective thoughts and gratitude for Brannan’s work as a muse through my own writing experience. His work has fed my own. He never knew it, was never his intention. I don’t think it would be even if he knew he had inspired someone else. He’s simply too busy creating his own worlds, his own emotive and captivating spells with which to cast upon we poor hungry souls. Okay, maybe I am taking it a bit over the top.
Maybe…
But part of me doesn’t think so. Here’s the skinny on why that is.
Art is meant to inspire. Art, when done right, should evoke a response. Jay’s work has done that for me.
Angels of Mercy is a series that I am deeply engrossed in. I am “all in” with my own creative process but I would be remiss if I didn’t say thank you to Jay for giving me a well to pull from. Sure, my characters don’t have anything directly related to his work (other than my protagonist happens to be a fan of his work). But that part I did intentionally – it was my nod to say thank you to Jay for giving me something to work from. His art inspired my own. I feel a kindred spirit in that he does everything on his own. No big record company, no big shot promoter, no real corporate support of any kind. Just an out gay artist hitting the pavement, the airwaves and the net in any way he can to get his stuff out there. I am deeply inspired by that journey of his.
That’s why I am doing this.
That’s why I feel a deep sense of gratitude to him. An indebtedness that I will never be able to repay. His work gave me the momentum to reach for my own. For Angels, he is my muse. He never asked for it, isn’t a part of it directly in any way. But that’s okay. I’m good with that. He’s a busy guy. He’s got a life to lead. I’ll continue to admire from afar and be further inspired by his crafty and brilliant prose. One writer breathing life into another’s work. What greater compliment can one give to another?
I see your work. It gives me the desire to seek my own. It’s truly as simple as that.
So thank you, Jay. It’s a bright and brilliant thing you’ve got going on there. I am bang over the moon that my 50th will be celebrated with close friends and family that night at Bottom of the Hill here in San Francisco. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to do that. My writing muse – simply doing what he does best: spin tales, craft worlds, elicit emotive provocation from those of us who are fortunate to be there – sharing in your journey in a small but vital way to keep you going as you strive for being the best at what you do.
I thank you.
My characters, imaginary though they may be, thank you.
My creative process as I work through Angels of Mercy thanks you. Rob Me Blind is being played to death in iTunes (along with your other work) when I wrote volume one of the work. I don’t mind. That album is the inner emotive core of Elliot Donahey, my out shy gay boy in a semi-hostile environment who suddenly finds himself dating the highest profile jock on campus. A mouse thrust into a very bright light in a room full of cats. It’s a dark work, an edgy work, it’s brooding (as only gay boys can be when danger lurks around every corner). I don’t pull any punches in their relationship. It’s all out there for everyone to see. It’s unapologetic, it’s in your face. But that’s just how these boys are. This is how they spoke to me (and I get how cray-cray that may sound). But as an author writing gay lit fic, your characters are all you have to work with. If they aren’t speaking to you, then you aren’t in the right frame of mind to create.
So thanks, Jay. A deeply profound thanks. This is why I am spending this month leading up to your concert in SF on your work. Because it gave me my own.
The Always, Then & Now Tour…
Please check out his site with links for his upcoming shows. I am definitely a late comer to the Brannan bandwagon whenever he pulls through my city. But now that I am going this year, I am making it a goal never to miss when he swings through town. I hope you take advantage of the opportunity as well. Also be sure to check out his web store at the following link.
- Jay’s Website – jaybrannan.com
The truth is in the blood…
So given that the final season of True Blood is around the corner. I’ve been reminiscing about the difference between Charlaine Harris’ book series and the episodic version on our TV screens.
The Stackhouse Novels by Charlaine Harris
At first blush the main cast of characters seem to be front and center (with a few notable exceptions – that being Lafayette and the much more sub-dued Tara – arguably the TV series strongest and most interesting characters). This however is where we hit that proverbial argument (one of which I don’t always think is as valid as Hollyweird seems to make it): Books are different than TV/Film.
Lafayette and Jesus – I fuckin’ LOVED these two.
Yeah, the more I read, coupled with the fact that I have family that works in the film industry, I am not so sure of that as a creative premise at all. I think in most cases it is producers and directors wanting to make a splash on the shoulders of another author’s works. “Reimagining it for the masses over a different medium…” sort of thing.
It worked for the Harry Potter series, right? Eh, don’t get me started on that one… there were soooo many fucked up production decisions on that film iteration of the beloved books that I could spend an entire blog series just covering it all.
The brilliantly wonderful Daniel Radcliffe
And when David Heyman offered only that as a children’s series they didn’t feel they could ever stretch the films out to encompass the smaller story elements in the books because children were going to struggle to sit still longer than the ‘line in the sand’ at 2 hours and 30+ minutes they’d alloted for each installment in the series. Say nothing of the fact that these were the same children who were happily sitting in the Lord of the Rings movies that toppled at 3.5 hours long with apparent ease. Or given the fact that as the movies wore on (and those little tykes grew up) they should (according to Heyman’s implied theory) be able to handle a longer film. My point being that it was nothing short of a financial cop out. The story and it’s telling suffered because of poor plot line choices. Steve Kloves (the screenplay writer) did his best to keep an even keel scriptwise with input from Rowling herself (often cluing him into elements that were important far before the rest of the world knew what was going on). But alas, it was the story plot lines and the production team involved that sort of ruined the magic of that series for me.
Okay, I’ll cop to the fact that I own every single one of them. They’re my granddaugther’s favorite movies and books. So those films hold a different form of sentimentality for me. She was only one when the first one came out – and she was riveted even at that tender age. If you got in the way of the TV she’d skreech and in her babushka (the reference my family had for her baby talk as she tended to sound like an old Russian woman) way telling you on no uncertain terms to: “get the FUCK outta the way man, I am watching my flick!”
Der Hitlermort
I did like that they never lost sight of the whole blood business. Pure bloods vs. Muggles – yeah, so Third Reich in it’s reach and scope. I really liked that element in Rowling’s series.
Speaking of which – The Hobbit writers felt the NEED to insert a fucked up fake Elvish/Dwarf love thing? WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK? That singular addition to the tale fucking ruined the movies for me! You DON’T INSERT into literature you fucktards! You aren’t that bright to do so… something like that practically soured me on the whole fucking idea of movie options from novels.
The unwitting dwarf in the fiasco fake Elvish romance – a clusterfuck of an idea if I ever saw one.
Which brings me to the real analysis of this blog entry: True Blood.
Joe Manganiello as Alcede
In the books the world of Bon Temps and the fearsome but beloved Vamps are quite different. So different in fact, that the faeries play a larger role in the course of the series (and to set the record straight – I HATED the treatment of them by the writing staff of the HBO series – a mishmash of Disneyesque cum Burlesque twat-heads that I was only too happy to see them perish in the TV series. They were complete waste cases). But not in the books, the faeries are BAD ASSED. Even Eric Northman thinks twice about confronting them when Suki is in the hospital and her Faerie grandfather Niall is inbound. What the fuck happened to that element? Why toss your wad on these sappy faerie light versions of their fearsome counterparts in the books? I just didn’t get it.
The FUCKED UP fairies of True Blood
And I get it, dear reader, that you may wonder why I even care. Well I do because it matters. It matters because I am a writer. Not to say that i have lofty ideals that my stories will ever equate to a property that would get sold to a film/TV company. I can dream but I am a realist as well in that department.
So yeah, if fucking matters big time that they get it right.
There is one element that is fairly spot on between the books and series – Alexander Skarsgard portrayal of Eric Northman. From the moment Alexander makes is appearance in the show I was all “YES! YES! YES!” and I am over the fucking moon that he’s a Nord actor. Go for the blood. It was brilliant bloody casting.
The fucking over the top in all the RIGHT way – True Blood’s Alexander Skarsgard
Now, with the exception of Ryan Kwanten, Nelsan Ellis, Rutina Wesley, and Kristen Bauer van Straten , the rest of the cast is questionable. Not that the other actors are bad at their jobs. That’s not it at all. The actors perform admirably to the tasks given to them. It’s the writing that has sucked as the seasons have worn on to the point where it barely resembles the premise it started out with. These are writers who’s good ideas went out with the bath water around the second season. Coincidently, around the same time that the TV series started to really divert from the plotlines that Charlaine had in the books. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. I mean, it didn’t have to be a bad thing. But unfortunately, it was.
The differences between the two worlds were really starting to show. One element completely dropped from Harris’ books that I really loved in the novels? Bubba – Elvis as a goofy dumbed down lovable vampire with a penchant for kittens. Now THAT I would have loved to have seen. Hell, they could’ve even cast Michael St. Gerard (from the old Elvis bio pic) in the role.
So the takeaway from the TB fiasco, as I’ve come to call it? Whenever someone says they want to put a ‘twist’ on it, ‘shake it up a bit’ on a successful premise, then that really means – hey, we want to substantiate why we’re having to hire screenwriting hacks to reinvent the wheel because, hell, we’re just too imagined out to come up with a truly great premise ourselves so we’d rather bastardize your shit rather than put in the real work ourselves.
I mean it is possible, you know. Need I say ORPHAN BLACK? Now there’s a series that was created from ground up. But of course, it’s Canadian. Damned Canucks (and I happen to love Canucks… brilliant bastards that they are). But if anything, they show how it can be done. Just like we novelists do – with grit, determination, a little mental-elbow grease and guess what IMAGINATION. Something sorely lacking in Hollyweird.
Tatiana Maslany – the Meryl Streep of TV.
Sidebar: You know, I sorta have mixed feelings when I bash Hollywood with the ‘weird’ status. Mostly because for the most part I like their sense of equality when it comes to the gay community (in so far as it doesn’t extend (or rarely extends) to lead characters). But then they go completely off the rails with real imagination and creative bravado. They just seem to be apathetic to trying new things when it’s so much easier to option something in existence and ‘spin’ it, make our mark on it.
What the fuck-ever.