For my readers (and, of course, potential readers), I am hard at work on my next offering - Turning Idolater, a mystery novel inspired by Melville's Moby Dick about Gay Internet Twink Strippers and . . . well, there hangs a tale. However, let me share a pargraph from the opening of Chapter Four, where I describe (or rather intone) Greenwich Village at night so you may get the flavor of this stew.
"The early spring chill clung to the evening soul of the East Village, much like a cold harbor waiting for its crew to ring the night bell and slurry out to sea. Never slumbering, the crisscrossed lanes and by-ways sang the song of the alive and the free; of the adrift and the wandering. These were the carols awake and acceptable, no map needed to understand the tidal pull; no liturgy wanted to keep us holy and safe from shoals. Here unfurled art and tangents, fostering fireworks and introspection in the same flare - a place in the sun at midnight, where no clock holds our course to the hour, the month or the year. Only the barkeeps and drag queens parry regulation, keeping such lore under lock and key - hymnals emblematic to sailors holding hands in their hammocks strung by night, never slumbering to the buzz-saw snoring liturgy held fast within the barkeep's ring."
- Turning Idolater
Edward C. Patterson