Blast from the past

Here is something I did for my friend's valentine's day celebration. waaayyy back in the day. I'm a much better performer now than I was then.

Be good and be good to each other.

I have a new book coming out

As some of you may already know, I self-published a book titled Big Black Penis: Misadventures in Race and Masculinity. It won the 2006 Do It Yourself (DIY) book award. The book was picked up by the Independent Publishers Group/Lawrence Hill Books and will be released properly this Spring/Summer. I rewrote the entire book and added a bunch of new chapters/essays. Please keep looking at this space for updates about the book and future projects. Here is a look at the final design for the cover, the interview I did after winning the award, and also a couple of advance reviews.

Be good, and be good to each other.

The Interview
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Big Black Penis" - An Interview With Author Shawn Taylor
Wednesday, November 29, 2006

NYBF: The title of your book is pretty audacious. How did you come up with it? And have you met any resistance from retailers/wholesalers/other distributors?

SHAWN TAYLOR: The title was kind of my addressing the fear of too-many Americans: Black male sexuality. I was aware that the title and cover image may hinder my chances of being prominently displayed at certain stores, but once I re-read the book, no other title had as much impact. The funny thing is, most people don’t even get to the sub-title: "Misadventures in Race and Masculinity." They see "Big Black Penis" and, based on those three words, they are either repulsed or on board. It is hilarious to me that people can watch the misogynistic television, cheer the Vagina Monologues and laud The Wedding Crashers but I put ‘big’ and ‘black’ and ‘penis’ together on the cover of a book, coupled with my photo, people have a hard time.

But, much to my surprise, every independent bookstore I approached was more than happy to stock the book. However, some of the customers of these stores were having a very difficult time with it. One day, I was checking on my sales at Walden Pond Books (in Oakland, CA) and I saw this woman turn all ten copies of my book so that the backs were facing out. I’m sitting there watching her and it looked like she was on a mission. Eventually, I asked her what she was doing. And, without turning to look at me, she talks about ‘filth’ and ‘inappropriateness’ and all this other drivel. I asked her why black cock scared her so much, even though a different colored cock allowed her to even exist and take the actions she was currently taking. She turned around in a huff, looked at me, than peeked at one of my books and left the store without another word. And it was at that moment that I knew that the title and the cover image were the right thing. If people are still freaked out about race and sexuality, then it is my duty to keep hitting them with it.

NYBF: Why did you write the book?

ST: To put it bluntly: Most books about men’s issues are either a) written by women, b) written by guys who have no problems emasculating themselves or c) written by guys whose cultural/ethnic/class experiences have nothing to do with mine. And, along with the above, very few Black men are being vulnerable in public. I wanted to dispel some long-standing stereotypes about Black men and give a candid peek into one facet of Black male life. We are not a monolithic entity and I felt it was my job to let people peer into the façade that the media, people’s own racism and biases and the image that many Black men create and perpetuate. It was my call to truth. There are a couple of brothers who are doing their thing -- Kevin Powell, Hill Harper, Michael Datcher, Scott Poulson-Braynt --but I felt they weren’t being raw enough. Maybe it’s that Brooklyn in me, but I wanted my work to be as ‘warts and all’ as possible.

NYBF: Was it cathartic to revisit your childhood?

ST: Yes. It was something that I needed to do so that I could move on to other projects. Everything that I was writing revolved around race and masculinity. I had a one-track mind for so long that I figured that I had to exorcise myself of these gender and culture demons. I wrote a series of monologues and performed them all over the place, and the response that I got was amazing. I did it for the men out there who don’t have it in them to be vulnerable and honest about themselves to others. But it was the women in the audience that were the most responsive and appreciative. I knew that I was on to something when a woman came up to me after performing a piece about absent fathers, and she burst into tears and told me that she now knew what her son was going through. She told me about how the kid’s dad smacked her around one night—in front of their son—and then took off, never to return. This asshole left without a warning and never once contacted the mother or his son again. Her story made me reflect on my coming up and I had to commit some of that horror to a more permanent form, hence the book. After writing the book, dealing with that shadow-stuff, I became a better friend and a much better husband. The book was kind of a right of passage for me.

NYBF: You’ve sold a lot of units of the book directly in nightclubs and other non-traditional arenas. Tell me about that approach.

ST: It’s all due to hip-hop. From the outset, hip-hop was all about DIY. You made your own flyers, you hotfooted it around the city passing out these flyers, posters, tapes, t-shirts and you put a personal touch on your product, and you exposed the face and personality behind the item. I took this same ethic and applied it to selling my book. Event though I was in several bookstores, I couldn’t just rely on them to push the book. It was my job, so I hustled it. Out and about, all hours of the day and night, selling my book. I’d catch people at the gas station, the grocery store, the flea market, anywhere but a bookstore. My biggest sales were after the bars closed. Legions of women, all of whom were disappointed by their interactions with men inside the club, would be storming back to their cars, cursing the very existence of men. I’d come up to them, explain how my book could give them some insight as to why many men are so damaged and not doing anything about it. The book would fly! I sold so many books this way, I can’t even tell you. I believe in my work and I will take any avenue to make sure that it gets out there.

NYBF: You said at the DIY Book Festival awards that you were committed to publishing independently. What is it about the process that appeals to you?

ST: I want to have the final say in how my work is presented to the public. I don’t want marketing teams and focus groups dictating how my voice should be filtered. Even though this was the hardest thing that I have ever done, it was worth it. There are few things that are more satisfying than seeing a something that you envision becoming reality. I did not have to make any sacrifices, compromises or worry about demographics. I wrote a book and am getting it out to many people. I can market to whomever I want. My book is being used as a textbook in a junior college course. If I was with a major publisher, I’m sure that that particular avenue would have never been considered. And aside from all of the lofty ideas behind my choice to DIY, doing it this way, I get a bigger cut of the revenue.

NYBF: What’s your next project?

ST: I wrote a book for the 331/3 series from Continuum Books. I wrote a monograph about A Tribe Called Quest’s People Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. I’m also finishing up a book about my love affair with the urban environment. My goal is to have a book out every 18-months. I also want to set the books at a manageable page rate (no more than 215 pages) so people won’t get bored and I also want to make sure that the price is affordable enough for people to buy it without having to break
themselves.

NYBF: Who were your literary idols growing up? How did they influence your writing?

ST: When I came to the realization that I wanted to be a writer and then trying to figure out what that meant, my holy trinity was Octavia E. Butler, Amiri Baraka and Chester Himes. Butler for her ‘less is more’ approach, Baraka for the way he attacked social ills and Himes for just telling kick-ass stories. I thought that I was going to be a fiction writer, based on my adoration of the above writers, but I found my voice as an essayist. When Octavia E. Butler died, as tribute, I read all of her books in about a month. It was like losing your mentor. I’m still mulling the possibility of writing a fiction book, as tribute to her, but it is still just a thought. I also read more SF and fantasy than anyone has a right to. I loved Orson Scott Card, Michael Moorcock, Harry Harrison, Steven Barnes, and Ursula K. LeGuin. All of these authors taught me how to establish place and how the physical environment can be a character. Place is very important to me.

NYBF: What are the lessons you hope that your readers take away from the book?

ST: That it can be done. You can get your ideas out there. That if you don’t tell your own story, someone else will, and you will not like the way you are represented. I also want people to recognize that men, especially Black men, are multifaceted. We are not all the same. It may seem as if we are complaining or beating the dead racial horse, but being Black and male is a very difficult road to travel and people need to hear from the source just how difficult it is to carve out an American existence. I don’t want people to pity us but to step out of their comfort zones and hear our versions of our stories. I think that this is the most important lesson.

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What People are Saying
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“There are enough twists and curves to keep any reader titillated. [Big Black Penis] gives insight into the author’s inner workings, showing his vulnerability, fear, and concern in full—something not often granted to black men in America.” —East Bay Express

"Truth comes in many flavors. . . . Big Black Penis is a picnic of spicy nuggets. Open it anywhere and laugh with recognition." —Steven Barnes, author, Lion's Blood and The Cestus Deception

She's Incredible

This is an old friend of mine, Melinda Corazon Foley--met her back during the heyday of the Bay Area spoken word scene. We've had our political and philosophical differences, but I still love her and am always in awe of her talent.

Mr. D'Arby, If You're Nasty

Rooting around my entirely too-big media collection, I was lamenting the fact that most of my favorite Black Art (music, film and literature) was produced before the year 2000. This isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy modern Black Art, but it seems as if there isn’t that much worth paying attention to. You have shows like The Wire but—when you get right down to it—it is a better (and serialized) version of New Jack City. NJC was a great movie, but I already seen it the first time that it came out. Girlfriends is a less edgy and co-dependant version of the whitest of white shows—except maybe Friends—Sex in the City. Film? Don’t get me started. Brown Sugar (I have a real soft spot for that movie) and Eve’s Bayou were the best mainstream Black films that have dropped in the past little while. Soul Plane? Caught Up? Waist Deep? I mean, really now. I know that there are many Black Folks getting down artistically, but where are the decent Black films in the mainstream? Is it our fault for not collectively supporting good Black flicks? Most Black Folks are media junkies, so there is an audience (multiple audiences) for all types of Black helmed film and television shows. If you make them, we (hopefully) will come.

However, music has been a bit better. TV on the Radio (the best album of 2006, IMHO), Gnarl’s Barkley, Skye (formerly of Morcheeba), the T-Dot’s own K-OS, all of these albums warm my heart and get mad play on the ipod, but it is rare that they get as much broadly public shine, as say, T.I., Jamie Foxx and other greed lauding, sex hungry, Black Men and Women as commodities…stuff.

So I’m looking through my music and I stumble on Sananda Maitreya’s (formerly Terence Trent D’arby) first solo album, Introducing the Hardline According to Terence Trent D’arby. I put it on and was transported. The album is incredible. It is the genesis of the sound that he would later dub Post-Millennium Rock (PMR). Dude’s voice is one for conjuring. When his voice travels from the falsetto to the gutbucket blues, you just know that spirits are raising up somewhere and dancing in delight. The comparisons to Prince are warranted, and just like the purple midget, Maitreya/D’arby’s physical appearance belies an almost hyper-masculinity. Back in the day, Sananda/Terence was coming for all the women-folk, and scoring. After reminiscing with the first joint, I immediately put on his second album, Neither Fish Nor Flesh. A revelation. It is like the leap from Tribe’s People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm to The Low End Theory; De La from Three Feet High and Rising to De La Soul is Dead and TV on the Radio’s Herculean power-move from Wild and Desperate Youth-Blood Thirsty Babes to Return to Cookie Mountain. It was the perfection of, and a radical departure from, an established style. And these albums so far eclipsed their predecessors; it led to these artists becoming paragons of their chosen form. Neither Fish is risky, breathtaking, dangerous and thought provoking; everything that art (especially music) is supposed to be, and so much more. Who is now making that Black, Post-Millennium-Rock? Who is being brave enough to push these boundaries on American shores? There are a slim few who are being musically brave but until the vanguard unite us under their banner and our ears and hearts move to a point of sophistication where we will able to vibe on Mos Def, Little John, Floetry and Beyoncé, all in the same play list, I’m just going to have to be content listening to this PMR: established in 1987, perfected in 1989, and banging into the AfroFuture.

Listen to this woman.

Please support Alice Smith. She has one of the best albums of 2007: For Lovers, Dreamers, and Me. Cop it now.

Keep it alive!!

I hate to admit it, but the time of the mixtape (mix CD) and the radio dedication is now over. But all is not lost. Here is a good way to keep the romance alive. Don’t rush into it, though. You should do the following after the eighth or ninth date—or at least be sure that you are with the right person to invest a little time and money. Let me break it down: Mixtape/Radio dedication for the twenty-first century.

1. Buy an iPod Shuffle. Under a hundred dollars from Apple.

2. Scour your (and your partner’s—do this discreetly) music collections and find music that appeals to the both of you (and that is reflective of your relationship). Whether or not you actually heard the music together is immaterial. Just be on point about the intersection of the music and your relationship.

3. Take some care and create a musical biography, up until the point you gift the iPod. Don’t shy away from the bad shit, either. Any good relationship will have jagged points—these help us to be able to identify the beautiful times. This biography should be thoughtful, dramatic, and most of all, honest. The music should reflect what is and was, not what you wanted it to be.

4. Using those cute/ugly little ear buds (or, if you have the capability, plug the iPod into a set of external speakers) listen to the music with your partner. Disclaimer: There are bound to be some choices that your partner may say ‘What the hell is this?’ But that’s okay—at least you are having a conversation about your relationship, instead of it just happening without your full participation.

5. After you’ve listened to the whole thing, explain why you did it.

6. Get to being freaky. Trust me, it will be mind-blowing.

From me to you.