Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Chapter One of BlAsian Exchanges, a novel"

BlAsian Exchanges, a novel (Copyright 2007, All Rights Reserved)

Chapter One
"They are all of one mind, their hearts are set upon song and their spirit is free from care. He is happy whom the Muses love. For though a man has sorrow and grief in his soul, yet when the servant of the Muses sings, at once he forgets his dark thoughts and remembers not his troubles. Such is the holy gift of the Muses to men." - Hesiod
It was a mere five 'til five once my fingers had danced on the keyboards for a few minutes and my eyes saw these two ads I'd typed:Black sisters: please be my muse? - m4w – 34I am a MARRIED Asian male writer seeking a platonic friendship with any Black women out there who might be interested in serving as my muse. I am in the process of writing my first novel about my attraction for and romances with Black women throughout my life and would like to hear a sister's reaction to my story. What I had in mind was maybe we could do coffee or have a phone conversation while I read parts of my novel to you. Other subsequent interactions, e.g., an IM chat or e-mail exchanges, are possible. Romantic experience with Asian men not required but openness to seeing Asian men as a romantic option and interest in what I'm writing about is. Look forward to hearing from you and hooking up. Again, I am repeating what I noted at the outset: I am MARRIED so if anyone has any problems with that please disregard this post. Absent some minimal / innocent flirting that comes with any platonic friendship with those of the opposite sex, I intend to keep it real and stay true to my wife.Attractive, Urban-bred 27yo SAM iso SBF for LTR!!!!!!
Yo Ladies!
I'm a fun-loving 33 year old single Asian man seeking an erudite, eclectic, and sensual Black woman (30+) to spend my time with. I'm looking for a sistah of creative mind and body; a woman of pleasure and romance; a woman that loves to explore and discover new places with the right man.
I'm from a Black city so I know what time it is. And I've been intimate with sistas most of my life so this is no jungle fever booty call. My talk is as cool as my walk. And I also like to dance. I am truly a man of passion, a hopeful romantic in passion as well as practice! How about we have coffee some time after a few virtual exchanges and phone calls then – if the sparks are right – spend our evenings dining and dancing, singing and laughing. And at some point: A nice quixotic evening together by candle light, soft sexy music, a nice bottle of wine and our passion to fill the night right.
I'm seeking a lady that can share herself and grow with me, a woman that doesn't play games, a woman that wants to find the pleasures in life with a man that is ready to sweep her away! If you can feel my flow and want to see me walk 'n talk, then send me a communiqué tellin' me about yourself at your earliest convenience. Lookin' forward to our rendezvous.
E-mail me back and tell me about yourself. Tell me your passions in life, your career goals, your favorite novelist and most important: tell me what makes you unique. Please send me a picture and I will get back to you soon. Hopefully we'll be able to show each other that love is always alive!
A lot to be writing in the wee hours of a Thursday morn in July. But some writing comes easy. Especially when I listen to the little voice inside me. A voice that once again opened up as I woke up. A voice that kept repeating to me:
Write about stuff close to the heart. Just do the WRITE thing. Don't stand for ceremony. Write what you know . . .
Yes the word becomes flesh. After that thought, I hit the submit button on the web site I'd gotten to know well: BlAsianRomance.luv
Both ads posted almost immediately. But the voice inside me commanded: 'remove the second one. That's not you.' And I did. Thank goodness 'cause it's time to go to work. I turned my computer off as I heard the cable car from two blocks back goin' up Washington from Hyde. It is another windy, chilly San Francisco morning in late spring. But what is firing my heart is that I've written about what is really close to my heart: BlAsian romance. Romance among Asian men and Black women.
* * *
I guess you could say I'm a trained journalist who is still searching for his real voice as a writer. Kinda like a lover trying to find their true heart but not quite there yet. You see, there's a voice inside me that incessantly keeps whispering – sometimes screaming in a high-pitch tone: "That's not you!" whenever I attempt to write the stories I get paid to write at this magazine I write for called Asian American Contemporary.
I've started to listen and act on this voice. Started to write a novel about BlAsian romance – romance between Black women and Asian men. But the journalist voice inside me keeps telling me:
"You've gotta keep making a living. Writing nonfiction pays your bills. And who cares about novelists anyway?"
The novelist's voice retorts:
"Fiction reveals truth that reality obscures and journalism ignores. You will pay the bills if you pursue storytelling. Reporters are wimps and losers who only try to sell newspapers anyway. And besides you were not destined to be a hack."
I do keep dreaming the journalist voice's influence eventually whithers away until it's completely gone swallowed by the novelist's voice. For now, both voices debate each other from time to time. Only time will tell, I guess.
Flashback to high school sophomore year: I'm in the middle of Greek Mythology class and have just written down the quote of the ancient Greek poet Hesiod uttered by that tall Jesuit priest who keeps referring to me as a "pinhead". I ignore his labeling and instead I'm focused on the concept of the Muses that are now being discussed. "The writings of earlier writers have told us that the Muses were the inspiring goddesses of songs, and they eventually were portrayed as divinities presiding over different kinds of poetry and over the arts and sciences," said Father Desiderata. "As patrons of the fine arts, the Muses promoted the more civilized aspects of human existence. The fortunate person inspired by them was held in the highest esteem and considered sacred far beyond any priest." Since that class, I've not too infrequently seen the moon in the morning sunlight of my Sensa pen.

1 comment:

Sandra said...

Hi Sam,
Can you enable your blog so that I can send this chapter to people who might be interested? I'm sure there are others out there who want to see this. Blogspot allows you to add a small email envelope to the bottom of the posts.
Thank you,