2021 Calendar:
Just putting a big shrug up here for now.
Luchador
Luchador—along with a lot of great Interlude Press books—has been named one of Amazon’s Kindle Monthly Deals! For the month of November, get it for only $2.99 on Amazon and at the IP Web Store! (And the print edition’s on sale right now at Amazon, too!)
The past couple of days have been an absolute blur, and I realized that I hadn’t had a chance to to post about this weekend’s Foreword INDIES Book of the Year awards. I’m so honored that Luchador got singled out by Foreword as the 2016’s best Indie Romance, and so proud of all of the Interlude Press authors who were named as finalists and winners of Foreword INDIES, Lambda Literary, and other awards this year. I think it says so much about the overall quality of the books being published by IP, and of the authors it works with.
I’m especially happy for this little book that could. It’s been an uphill fight at times for Luchador, but it is a book that is close to my heart, and I’m glad it has found its way into a few readers’ hearts, as well.
Holy smokes.
Foreword Reviews revealed its list of finalists for its annual INDIES Book of the Year awards today, and Luchador is named in three fiction categories: LGBT, Romance, and Multi-Cultural.
It's exciting for me on two levels, because Luchador is one of seven books and three of the dozen nominations for Interlude Press books. I'm so excited for authors Alysia Constantine (Sweet), Carrie Pack (In the Present Tense), Pene Henson (Into the Blue), Lynn Charles (Black Dust), Charlotte Ashe (The King & The Criminal), and Amy Stilgenbauer (Sideshow), who also received nominations.
Winners will be announced in Chicago this June at the annual convention of the American Library Association. This is not the Oscars—winners are announced during a slide show on the convention floor. There are no speeches (thank god) or statuettes. When Sotto Voce won this award (then known as "IndieFab") two years ago for LGBT fiction, I received three stickers to put on books on display at the IP booth. Eventually, we bought more.
What's the value for authors and small publishers, then? It's the ability to say that our books are recognized for their quality—which is at the heart of what Interlude Press is working to do. So thanks, Foreword. It is, as nominees say, "an honor just to be nominated".
To borrow from Harry Caray, "Holy cow!" I wrote the following column a month or two ago about the link between romantic fiction and sports. Today, it was published on The Cauldron, a blog run by Sports Illustrated. I am (almost) without words.
Miguel, aka “La Rosa,” is a veteran exótico wrestler and wrestling gym owner in Mexico City. Over time, his role in Gabriel’s life ranges from inspiration to trainer to antagonist to father figure. I try not to pick favorites from my characters, but it is hard not to with Miguel around. I love this smart, tough, loving man.
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Though he entrusted the development of Gabriel’s technical skills to Arturo, Miguel insisted that Gabriel continue his own, unfathomable tutoring. It was classroom work, of sorts, a training of Gabriel’s mind that only Miguel could explain—but steadfastly refused to do so.
His unconventional training included handing Gabriel a list of research assignments. Study the rise of the PRI and the role of Superbarrio in the emergence of opposition politics. Watch and compare the El Santo movies of the 1960s to the El Santo movies of the 1970s. Contrast and compare American professional wrestling performance to lucha libre.
“I know who El Santo is. My dad used to watch his movies with me when I was little. But how is watching Santo vs. las Mujeres Vampiro relevant to my getting a pro license?” Gabriel asked. He spat out his words in a rapid-fire complaint.
Miguel smirked and tossed a magazine across the room. “Read this,” he said.
“Lucha Semanal?”
Miguel nodded, as if acknowledging a secret he hadn’t shared.
“A thirty-year-old magazine? I wasn’t even born yet.”
“That’s the point, college boy,” Miguel said, going back to work, smiling to himself.
Source: The New Yorker
I’m spending today sharing some background on Luchador, my new book about a young man’s search for identity in Mexico City’s lucha libre circuit, and this story from The New Yorker is a great place to start.
Written by William Finnegan (no relation), the talented writer behind last year’s on-every-top-ten-list Barbarian Days, the story focuses on the luchador Cassandro, arguably the best known of lucha lire’s exóticos. (I am still OMG’ing from Cassandro following my Twitter. I mean, I’m a fan, and I was in the audience that night at Lucha VaVoom described by Finnegan in this piece.)
Exóticos are luchadores—most of them gay—who wrestle as a sort of drag act within lucha. They wrestle mano-a-mano with the pumped-up luchadores of this macho culture, but they are also subject to derogatory taunts from the crowd, and often expected to play their characters using dated and, some argue, problematic stereotypes. They’ve also been credited with playing an important role in a Mexico’s equality movement, and drawing an enthusiastic LGBTQ audience to lucha libre. It’s a fascinating dichotomy, and an absolutely great read.
The conflict is also at the heart of Luchador. The protagonist, Gabriel, trains to join the lucha libre circuit under the mentorship of Miguel, a famed, old school exótico luchador known as La Rosa. For Gabriel, who is gay and out, it’s a chance to wrestle without stepping into the closet. But it’s also not a clean fit, and Gabriel looks to challenge the norms of what it means to be a gay luchador.
Thanks for the trailer, CS Scholte! Luchador is available Thursday!
"A young gay man in Mexico City is enthralled by a cross-dressing exótico wrestler on the lucha libre circuit and begins to pursue his own wrestling career in this very modern story of love and passionate vocation. Finnegan works in rich threads of Mexican history, queer culture and community, and questions of being out or closeted in a time and place poised on the brink of acceptance."
It’s been a chaotic day and I’m only now getting a chance to sit down (with a cold beer and the World Series) and try to get my thoughts together on the events of the day.
This morning, Publishers Weekly included Luchador on its “Best Books of 2016″ list.
It’s no small feat to be reviewed by PW, especially for a small press like Interlude. The magazine reviews about 9,000 books each year out of the reported 100,000 or so it receives as submissions. Of those, about 1,000 receive a Starred Review. The Best Books list is narrowed again, 150 books in all this year (including 50 children’s and young adult books) from biographies to children’s and young adult titles. Six books from the romance genre made the cut this year. One of them was by Nora Roberts. Nora Roberts.
One was Luchador, and I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shout. I was physically shaking when I got the news.
Here’s what they had to say about Luchador:
A young gay man in Mexico City is enthralled by a cross-dressing exótico wrestler on the lucha libre circuit and begins to pursue his own wrestling career in this very modern story of love and passionate vocation. Finnegan works in rich threads of Mexican history, queer culture and community, and questions of being out or closeted in a time and place poised on the brink of acceptance.
Hardly anyone has heard of it, and fewer romance readers are likely to be quickly drawn to a book set in the world of lucha libre, so I am deeply, deeply grateful for PW’s recognition.
But I’m grateful for a lot more than that. This is a good time to say thanks to the IP team which helped get Luchador from manuscript to book. To Annie Harper, who tolerated three years worth of me questioning whether I had a book or not, and to CB Messer, who is not only a ridiculously talented art director, but a great sounding board, as well. And to the colleagues and advance readers who reviewed Luchador in one form or another—for story, cultural sensitivity, Spanish language use, lucha libre culture and general coherence. Thanks, one and all.
This book is a labor of love. If your knowledge of lucha is based solely on Nacho Libre, there is so, so much more to it. Luchadores are not clowns. They are athletes, performers, and in some cases, agents of social change.
I don’t know whether Luchador will find its audience. It’s not exactly conventional. It’s a quirky little book and sometimes I feel solitary in my love of it. But PW just gave it a chance, and a whole lot of eyeballs. And for that, I am deeply grateful.
Now through November 17th, enter to win a print edition of Luchador on Goodreads. Open to US readers only, but we'll also have a Rafflecopter giveaway of five eBook editions available worldwide!
If you stopped by Google yesterday, you saw that the Google Doodle was a stylized luchador’s mask. But it’s not just any mask. It’s the mask of El Santo, The Saint, the legendary técnico whose career spanned both the ring and the screen, and who was famously buried wearing his iconic silver mask.
Today would have been Rodolfo Guzmán Huerta’s 99th birthday, but most people didn’t know him by that name. To fans of the genre, he was simply, El Santo.
El Santo is the classic técnico, the hero in lucha libre’s morality plays of good versus evil. His wrestling days spanned nearly five decades, and he was famously paired both against and with the Blue Demon in the ring, on film, and in comic books.
But El Santo ultimately became much more than a wrestler or a movie star. He became a folk hero and a symbol of justice, facing down powerful villain.
And his presence is felt to this day. His mask, along with that of The Blue Demon, are the classic imagery of historic lucha libre. His image can be found in memes, on beverage bottles, even on fabric (Yes, I just bought this skirt.) If you’re lucky enough to be in Los Angeles and catch a Lucha Va Voom burlesque show, El Santo’s image is omnipresent, with video clips running on screens before and between acts.
To some, El Santo’s image has become the source of kitsch, but El Santo remains the barometer upon which great técnicos are measured, and his influence runs through my new book, Luchador:
Gabriel spent weeks working with Miguel fine-tuning his character, his look, his costumes. He shadowed Miguel. He accompanied him to the wrestling suppliers, to the designer’s studio, to the fabric shop.
In the car, they would talk of strategy and of show, of the masters of lucha libra, and why they were so beloved decades after their careers had ended. El Santo’s path may have led him from the ring to B-grade movies, but he was still beloved by fans as lucha libre’s greatest técnico long after the day when he was buried wearing his silver mask.
It takes something special, Miguel would remind him: a character story that resonates with fans, a style unlike other luchadores. People needed something, or someone, to cheer for.
“And I can do that as a rudo?” Gabriel asked.
“You can do that as anyone. You just need to be compelling.”
An unconventional romance wrestles, at times literally, with issues of identity and belonging. —KIRKUS REVIEWS
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I was in Mexico City last summer, doing research for the book and taking a much-needed break, when I stumbled upon the golden wings of Marin’s Alas de la Ciudad outside the Museum of Anthropology on the Paseo de la Reforma. Like a lot of the tourists, I stopped and posed between them for a picture, then stepped back and watched for awhile, letting the scene sink in. Now it’s a moment in the book, and sets the stage for the conclusion of El Ángel Exótico’s story.
While looking up photos of the sculpture today (no, you don’t want to see my selfie), I stumbled upon a news story from a couple of months back: LA Mayor Accepts “Wings of the City” Sculptures from Mexico. The wings are coming to the City of Angels—permanently.
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Luchador will be published by Interlude Press in November.
I've been holding this one in for awhile, but anyone paying attention on Tumblr or Twitter probably could have pieced it together: the trip to Mexico City, the photos of the Angel of Independence statue, and all that lucha libre.
Luchador is officially announced now, and it's a bit of a break from where Interlude Press started, because romance is not the driving theme of this book. This is Gabriel's story, a coming of age piece about a young enmascarado in search of identity while wearing a mask.
Each week, Gabriel Romero’s drive to Sunday mass takes him past “El Ángel,” the golden statue at the heart of Mexico City that haunts his memories and inspires his future. Spurred by the memory of his parents, Gabriel is drawn to the secretive world of lucha libre, where wrestling, performance art and big business collide.
Under the conflicting mentorships of one of lucha libre’s famed gay exótico wrestlers and an ambitious young luchador whose star is on the rise, Gabriel must choose between traditions which ground him but may limit his future, and the lure of sex and success that may compromise his independence. Surrounded by a makeshift family of wrestlers, Gabriel charts a course to balance ambition, sexuality and faith to find the future that may have been destined for him since childhood.
It's easy to call it coming of age fiction, but it wasn't until I was done writing it that I realized I'd written a story about finding family and being true to yourself.
And Lycra. Lots of Lycra.
A busy, busy, busy week at RT16, so I’m just catching up, including on a big announcement — the remainder of the IP 2016 calendar, which includes my next book, “Luchador”.
More details to come, but it’s one I’ve been tinkering with for a few years, and I’m excited to set it free: a story of identity, and a man’s coming of age as a gay exótico wrestler in Mexico City’s professional lucha libre leagues. It’s a fascinating world where sport, storytelling, performance art, and business collide. I can’t wait to share it.
Things are happening… editorial notes, translator's notes, a first glimpse at a first draft of a cover that makes my Angeleno heart sing. #amediting
I'm currently about two-thirds through my first pass reading through this stutter-stop project as a book. It's been pieced together haltingly over the past two years, and it's both refreshing and a bit odd to read it as a whole. Kind of.
Los Angeles shrinks at night. The metropolis by day rolls up its darkened sidewalks as the last of the clubs close, reluctantly turning the streets over to those who live on them.
