Scan barcode
apostrophen's review
5.0
Edit: Bold Strokes Books is having a Sports Themed Catch-up Sale until February 23rd at their webstore, which includes Sweat, the only anthology in which I have two tales..
*
May is "Short Story Month."
Having taken a tour through BOYS OF SUMMER and TOUCH OF THE SEA, I'm going to pick up the pace (and turn up the heat) on my delve through SWEAT. I'll be tackling two stories a day (gay jock erotica, tackling - see what I did there?) It's also nice segue to mention something about SWEAT that is a first for me: I have two stories in SWEAT.
Todd Gregory's introduction talks about the roots of athletic lust better than I could, but I will add that there really is just something about the apparently effortless skill of the jock. I know full well it's not actually effortless, and the amount of time and training required is huge, but when they make it look so easy - be that leaping, tackling, jumping, throwing, or anything else - that grace is alluring, to say the very least.
Also the sweaty muscles. Those help.
The first two tales that lead off the anthology are "Sweat" by Cage Thunder and "After the Hockey Game" by Jeff Mann. You know you're in for a treat when you see those names, and these two are no exception.
Growing up, my exposure to wrestling was the more theatrical WWF (now WWE, I guess) stuff that I didn't often connect with, but the wrestling going on in Cage Thunder's tale is nothing like that. Aptly titled, in "Sweat" you can feel the slick skin of these two, and to be honest, the idea of a "submission hold" has rarely been so appealing as it is presented here. The dynamic of "winner takes all" lends itself so well to wrestling, and I'm starting to see why wrestlers can be so erotically charged - especially when you put them in the hands of the right writer.
Jeff Mann is in his usual hot form with "After the Hockey Game." He has a confoundingly marvelous way with words that I imagine come from his skill as a poet. The redneck Buddy and his worship from afar of goalie Matt lead to a kidnapping, and a the blend of fear and arousal, pain and pleasure that only Mann can serve up so well. The turnabout in this one made me grin, and the characterization of Buddy, and Buddy's internal monologue, tripped off the tongue effortlessly.
With a start like these two, you know you're in for a good ride.
The next two tales in SWEAT are a reminder of just how different two authors can approach the same theme - and also a reminder of how that's a good thing.
I have a love of all things urban fantasy. It spins back to my earliest reading experiences with Roald Dahl, Tolkein's THE HOBBIT, and then Christopher Pike, and Charles De Lint. I love our world with a trace (or dollup) of magic. I hadn't expected to find something with this tone in SWEAT, but was very pleasantly surprised to find it.
"The Wolverines" by Nathan Sims tells the story of two men - a journalist and a warrior against the forces of evil - who are enjoying a high school football game where the players have completely changed from being losers to slamming through the competition. The journalist things they might be juicing, but the warrior soon realizes that something darker might be responsible. Sexy is mixed in liberally in this paranormal story, which has a lovely twist of mystery as well.
Next up is "Rematch" by Jonathan Asche. Two years after high school, a man passes by the first boy he ever messed around with, Kieth. Both played basketball, and when Kieth suggests a pickup game, they play - and while the memory of their flings replays, the game heats up. In as much as I was a little on the edge of my seat wondering where this would go, I really appreciated the realism involved.
Magic and memory - the two tales are nothing alike, but both are hot.
On my tour through SWEAT, I was often surprised at where the authors went with the theme - the next story being a case in point: "The Bull Rider" by Jay Dickingson. I've been to the Calgary Stampede twice in my life (when I was younger, and not aware of just how cruel to the animals much of it was), and so when the jock of this story was such a bull rider, I had more than a few mental pictures from my youth of the hyper-masculine Albertan cowboys to pull from. Oh, cowboys.
Dickingson's story is probably the tale that had the meanest punch of the anthology for me. That isn't to say it isn't sweaty and hot in all the right ways, it's more to say that the element of religious intolerance and angry self-loathing (projected onto others) was at times painful in a way that rang true.
"Phenom" by Todd Gregory follows, and I can honestly say - and my friends can back me up here - that this is the first time I have ever found baseball interesting. Ever. Where "The Bull Rider" had a dark cruelty, "Phenom" has a lightness to it alongside the passion. When a long-time fan of a baseball star sees that the man at the local bar might just be the athlete in question, courage is plucked, and a good time looms. I loved the conversation that sparked their evening together, and the final sentiment is sweet.
So here's the thing about hockey. One of the two stories I wrote in this anthology is about hockey. I thought that as a Canadian residing type fellow, I should probably represent hockey when it came time to spin a tale for SWEAT. Turns out hockey players are well and truly ready to represent - Jeff Mann's earlier tale, as I said, featured one of these ice type gladiators, and the next story up is Jay Starre's "Hockey Stars on Top."
"Hockey Stars on Top" has a playfulness to it - three very athletic (and very horny) young men play around with their positions and betting on outcomes of games. There's even a Quebecois entrant in their fun, and my Canadian identity gave Starre a mental fist-bump the first time la belle province was mentioned.
From hockey we move back into wrestling (another favourite in the anthology), and we get one of the stories I liked the most in the happiness department. "Johnny Laredo" by Aaron Travis has a gentle touch (though the sex, of course, scorches). There's a "falling in love" tone to this tale, and a fun and amusing meet-cute for the couple in question. Hoping for a signed photo, Tom sends a note to Johnny Loredo from his fictitious son - and Johnny Loredo's manager decides to make a PR moment out of it by delivering a reply in person. It was a fun set-up, and the journey made me smile.
One of the things that I think most gay men share is the memory of that adult in their life upon whom they had their first crush. The father of a friend, the teacher - someone who snuck into their fantasies and was in a very real way forever associated with that sense of "I'm different" that comes with the dawning self-awareness of being gay. That line is crossed with this realization. I remember a friend's father being one of the first men to really talk to me like I wasn't a complete disappointment and alien version of what a boy should be. He was handsome, bearded, and very smart - he didn't see my head-down always reading, always drawing, always writing ways as something exasperating. He also liked to mow the lawn shirtless, and that was a very good thing. He shared books with me (books his daughters didn't want to read) and later in life my friend mentioned that her father had been saddened that she'd never dated me - though when she explained why, he'd asked if I'd found a boyfriend, and was very pleased that I had.
Take that wonderful relationship and add erotica to the mix, and you end up somewhere around Logan Zachary's "Put It In Me, Coach." Here, the narrator - who has had rather a crush on his friend's father for ages - reconnects with the man after the death of the son and friend. Their relationship trembles on the edge of a shared sit in a hot sauna, and Zachary moves the tension along with sweaty, steam-filled moments. Lines are crossed, and the result is hot.
A different line features in Jeffrey Ricker's "Finish Line." Filled with a realism that many of us see all too easily in the mirror, we find Elliott realizing that he's approaching the "middle age" point and none-too-happy about the physical slide he seems to be undertaking. Joining a gym and impulsively choosing to run a marathon, he meets his trainer Jeremy, and the two begin to train together with this goal in mind. Soon, though, Elliott starts to wonder if the relationship is entirely professional, or if there may be a mutual interest afoot. Events, of course, inspire to throw the occasional wrench in the plans, but "Finish Line" has a lovely romance to it (as well as some fun sweaty moments tucked between) that definitely keeps you running for the final ribbon.
The next two stories reminded me of another often shared experience of gay men - the awkward "is-he-or-isn't-he" stage of longing for someone. Is the object of your crush gay? Are you completely wasting your time? Is that wink for you? That smile? That glance?
Damn there should be an instruction manual.
"The Ravishing of Sol Stein" runs from this place - specifically a gym - and relays the experience of "should I or shouldn't I?" with realistic vim. Sol Stein is a fellow who sweats - always sweats - and our narrator is enamored from step one. I loved the slow boil of this story, and the way it boiled over - and it left a real grin in place.
Similarly, Mark Wildyr's "The Rice Man Cometh" has at its core the miscommunication that can so often occur - did he mean what he did, or was that an accident? Why is he suddenly cold - did I overstep? Again, the slow boil here has a payoff, and as a duet, the stories really struck the nerve of how awkward it can be in the world of athletes, where being yourself - if yourself is gay - isn't likely to be easy or obvious.
But in both cases - as in real life - it's worth it.
Grab a towel so you'll be ready to mop your brow once the last two tales are done.
Joseph Baneth Allen's "Goran's Run" is a wonderful story with a sweetness to it I wasn't expecting. A young man's life changes when he catches a home run ball and gets to meet the batter who sent it careening into his hands, Goran. But years later, when that young man - now a prominent reporter and author in the sports industry - tries to find Goran, he hits dead end after dead end. Unraveling the mystery and moving forward entwine, and the result was a lovely and gentle touch.
"Changing Lanes" by Max Reynolds focuses on one of my favourite themes: that of a second chance. When a stupid stunt and the enfolding accident robs an athlete of his basketball hopes, his "back-up" plan of swimming (alongside physiotherapy) falls into place. Unfortunately, one of the other swimmers, Ramirez, provides a burning distraction that no amount of cool pool water seems to sate, and soon we're wondering if the narrator is about to make another mess of his life, or if there's some hope for him - and Ramirez. This was a great way to end, on a story that was as much a beginning as a complete tale.
And that's it for SWEAT (minus my own two tales, of course). Three anthologies in one month - I hope you've enjoyed my trek through them, tale by tale. I'm not entirely sure what I'll come up with in the last few days of May for "Short Story Month" (I'm happy to have suggestions).
*
May is "Short Story Month."
Having taken a tour through BOYS OF SUMMER and TOUCH OF THE SEA, I'm going to pick up the pace (and turn up the heat) on my delve through SWEAT. I'll be tackling two stories a day (gay jock erotica, tackling - see what I did there?) It's also nice segue to mention something about SWEAT that is a first for me: I have two stories in SWEAT.
Todd Gregory's introduction talks about the roots of athletic lust better than I could, but I will add that there really is just something about the apparently effortless skill of the jock. I know full well it's not actually effortless, and the amount of time and training required is huge, but when they make it look so easy - be that leaping, tackling, jumping, throwing, or anything else - that grace is alluring, to say the very least.
Also the sweaty muscles. Those help.
The first two tales that lead off the anthology are "Sweat" by Cage Thunder and "After the Hockey Game" by Jeff Mann. You know you're in for a treat when you see those names, and these two are no exception.
Growing up, my exposure to wrestling was the more theatrical WWF (now WWE, I guess) stuff that I didn't often connect with, but the wrestling going on in Cage Thunder's tale is nothing like that. Aptly titled, in "Sweat" you can feel the slick skin of these two, and to be honest, the idea of a "submission hold" has rarely been so appealing as it is presented here. The dynamic of "winner takes all" lends itself so well to wrestling, and I'm starting to see why wrestlers can be so erotically charged - especially when you put them in the hands of the right writer.
Jeff Mann is in his usual hot form with "After the Hockey Game." He has a confoundingly marvelous way with words that I imagine come from his skill as a poet. The redneck Buddy and his worship from afar of goalie Matt lead to a kidnapping, and a the blend of fear and arousal, pain and pleasure that only Mann can serve up so well. The turnabout in this one made me grin, and the characterization of Buddy, and Buddy's internal monologue, tripped off the tongue effortlessly.
With a start like these two, you know you're in for a good ride.
The next two tales in SWEAT are a reminder of just how different two authors can approach the same theme - and also a reminder of how that's a good thing.
I have a love of all things urban fantasy. It spins back to my earliest reading experiences with Roald Dahl, Tolkein's THE HOBBIT, and then Christopher Pike, and Charles De Lint. I love our world with a trace (or dollup) of magic. I hadn't expected to find something with this tone in SWEAT, but was very pleasantly surprised to find it.
"The Wolverines" by Nathan Sims tells the story of two men - a journalist and a warrior against the forces of evil - who are enjoying a high school football game where the players have completely changed from being losers to slamming through the competition. The journalist things they might be juicing, but the warrior soon realizes that something darker might be responsible. Sexy is mixed in liberally in this paranormal story, which has a lovely twist of mystery as well.
Next up is "Rematch" by Jonathan Asche. Two years after high school, a man passes by the first boy he ever messed around with, Kieth. Both played basketball, and when Kieth suggests a pickup game, they play - and while the memory of their flings replays, the game heats up. In as much as I was a little on the edge of my seat wondering where this would go, I really appreciated the realism involved.
Magic and memory - the two tales are nothing alike, but both are hot.
On my tour through SWEAT, I was often surprised at where the authors went with the theme - the next story being a case in point: "The Bull Rider" by Jay Dickingson. I've been to the Calgary Stampede twice in my life (when I was younger, and not aware of just how cruel to the animals much of it was), and so when the jock of this story was such a bull rider, I had more than a few mental pictures from my youth of the hyper-masculine Albertan cowboys to pull from. Oh, cowboys.
Dickingson's story is probably the tale that had the meanest punch of the anthology for me. That isn't to say it isn't sweaty and hot in all the right ways, it's more to say that the element of religious intolerance and angry self-loathing (projected onto others) was at times painful in a way that rang true.
"Phenom" by Todd Gregory follows, and I can honestly say - and my friends can back me up here - that this is the first time I have ever found baseball interesting. Ever. Where "The Bull Rider" had a dark cruelty, "Phenom" has a lightness to it alongside the passion. When a long-time fan of a baseball star sees that the man at the local bar might just be the athlete in question, courage is plucked, and a good time looms. I loved the conversation that sparked their evening together, and the final sentiment is sweet.
So here's the thing about hockey. One of the two stories I wrote in this anthology is about hockey. I thought that as a Canadian residing type fellow, I should probably represent hockey when it came time to spin a tale for SWEAT. Turns out hockey players are well and truly ready to represent - Jeff Mann's earlier tale, as I said, featured one of these ice type gladiators, and the next story up is Jay Starre's "Hockey Stars on Top."
"Hockey Stars on Top" has a playfulness to it - three very athletic (and very horny) young men play around with their positions and betting on outcomes of games. There's even a Quebecois entrant in their fun, and my Canadian identity gave Starre a mental fist-bump the first time la belle province was mentioned.
From hockey we move back into wrestling (another favourite in the anthology), and we get one of the stories I liked the most in the happiness department. "Johnny Laredo" by Aaron Travis has a gentle touch (though the sex, of course, scorches). There's a "falling in love" tone to this tale, and a fun and amusing meet-cute for the couple in question. Hoping for a signed photo, Tom sends a note to Johnny Loredo from his fictitious son - and Johnny Loredo's manager decides to make a PR moment out of it by delivering a reply in person. It was a fun set-up, and the journey made me smile.
One of the things that I think most gay men share is the memory of that adult in their life upon whom they had their first crush. The father of a friend, the teacher - someone who snuck into their fantasies and was in a very real way forever associated with that sense of "I'm different" that comes with the dawning self-awareness of being gay. That line is crossed with this realization. I remember a friend's father being one of the first men to really talk to me like I wasn't a complete disappointment and alien version of what a boy should be. He was handsome, bearded, and very smart - he didn't see my head-down always reading, always drawing, always writing ways as something exasperating. He also liked to mow the lawn shirtless, and that was a very good thing. He shared books with me (books his daughters didn't want to read) and later in life my friend mentioned that her father had been saddened that she'd never dated me - though when she explained why, he'd asked if I'd found a boyfriend, and was very pleased that I had.
Take that wonderful relationship and add erotica to the mix, and you end up somewhere around Logan Zachary's "Put It In Me, Coach." Here, the narrator - who has had rather a crush on his friend's father for ages - reconnects with the man after the death of the son and friend. Their relationship trembles on the edge of a shared sit in a hot sauna, and Zachary moves the tension along with sweaty, steam-filled moments. Lines are crossed, and the result is hot.
A different line features in Jeffrey Ricker's "Finish Line." Filled with a realism that many of us see all too easily in the mirror, we find Elliott realizing that he's approaching the "middle age" point and none-too-happy about the physical slide he seems to be undertaking. Joining a gym and impulsively choosing to run a marathon, he meets his trainer Jeremy, and the two begin to train together with this goal in mind. Soon, though, Elliott starts to wonder if the relationship is entirely professional, or if there may be a mutual interest afoot. Events, of course, inspire to throw the occasional wrench in the plans, but "Finish Line" has a lovely romance to it (as well as some fun sweaty moments tucked between) that definitely keeps you running for the final ribbon.
The next two stories reminded me of another often shared experience of gay men - the awkward "is-he-or-isn't-he" stage of longing for someone. Is the object of your crush gay? Are you completely wasting your time? Is that wink for you? That smile? That glance?
Damn there should be an instruction manual.
"The Ravishing of Sol Stein" runs from this place - specifically a gym - and relays the experience of "should I or shouldn't I?" with realistic vim. Sol Stein is a fellow who sweats - always sweats - and our narrator is enamored from step one. I loved the slow boil of this story, and the way it boiled over - and it left a real grin in place.
Similarly, Mark Wildyr's "The Rice Man Cometh" has at its core the miscommunication that can so often occur - did he mean what he did, or was that an accident? Why is he suddenly cold - did I overstep? Again, the slow boil here has a payoff, and as a duet, the stories really struck the nerve of how awkward it can be in the world of athletes, where being yourself - if yourself is gay - isn't likely to be easy or obvious.
But in both cases - as in real life - it's worth it.
Grab a towel so you'll be ready to mop your brow once the last two tales are done.
Joseph Baneth Allen's "Goran's Run" is a wonderful story with a sweetness to it I wasn't expecting. A young man's life changes when he catches a home run ball and gets to meet the batter who sent it careening into his hands, Goran. But years later, when that young man - now a prominent reporter and author in the sports industry - tries to find Goran, he hits dead end after dead end. Unraveling the mystery and moving forward entwine, and the result was a lovely and gentle touch.
"Changing Lanes" by Max Reynolds focuses on one of my favourite themes: that of a second chance. When a stupid stunt and the enfolding accident robs an athlete of his basketball hopes, his "back-up" plan of swimming (alongside physiotherapy) falls into place. Unfortunately, one of the other swimmers, Ramirez, provides a burning distraction that no amount of cool pool water seems to sate, and soon we're wondering if the narrator is about to make another mess of his life, or if there's some hope for him - and Ramirez. This was a great way to end, on a story that was as much a beginning as a complete tale.
And that's it for SWEAT (minus my own two tales, of course). Three anthologies in one month - I hope you've enjoyed my trek through them, tale by tale. I'm not entirely sure what I'll come up with in the last few days of May for "Short Story Month" (I'm happy to have suggestions).
More...