Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Brad, Texas

I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me.

This might be worth a summer road trip.

Thursday, April 1, 2004

More Fool I

Almost nine years ago, I wrote a book, a mostly-autobiographical story about a twenty-something guy named "Brian", two failed romances and the pursuit of a perfect third that I called Falling in Love with a Poor Man. I mainly did it to prove to myself that I could, having earlier aborted two other long-form stories.

But finish it I did and, having accomplished that, I would have put it in a drawer and forgotten it (remembering one professor's admonishment that "every journalist has a novel in him, and that is precisely where it should stay") if a generous friend hadn't read it and insisted I let him pass it along to a literary agent of his acquaintance.

The agent was encouraging, although that encouragement came mostly in the form of suggestions for tweaks and edits that wounded my pride of authorship more than slightly. I made two or three revisions over the course of several months and, for a while, entertained dreams that I might actually have written the Great Gay American Novel and would see it published.

After about three years, during which I imagined my neatly bound manuscript languishing on the desks of editors at every major and most minor publishing houses, I had all but given up that dream.

In 1998, though, I found myself sitting in a hotel bar at a conference in Atlanta with a friend who'd recently had his first novel published, plucked off the slush pile by a wunderkind young editor. He encouraged me to call my agent right there and then and see that Poor Man got into the right hands.

And that's how, six months later, I found myself sitting across the table from Rob Weisbach, listening to him enthusiastically praise my writing and making me an offer to publish it under the auspices of his eponymous imprint at William Morrow. I was on Cloud 9, visions of catapulting onto the New York Times best-seller list before I was 30 returning to my mind.

That high lasted about as long as it took to recover from the hangover I'd earned from round after round celebrating that night with friends in the West Village. Weisbach's tenure at Morrow ended shortly thereafter and Poor Man returned to being a pipe dream. Shortly after that, having more or less abandoned my freelance career to become a PR flack for a local arts center, I stopped answering "writer" when people at parties asked me what I did.

I hadn't thought about the book in a long time, not in its substantial form anyway, although I'd occasionally trot out bits of it as excerpts on this website or to perform for readings, notably at Fray Day or PROMO's Words of Love.

And then last July, out of the blue, I got a phone call from a woman I'd never met, offering to change my life.

Chloe Solomon introduced herself as an agent with Curtis Brown Ltd., mentioned some names I recognized, explained the circuitous route by which she'd come into possession of my manuscript and asked if I'd consider letting her pitch it to someone she thought might have an interest in the story.

"Sure," I said, refusing to get excited and assuming nothing would come of it.

Something came of it.

In late February, I signed a contract with HBO Films. Falling in Love With a Poor Man or, at least, a screenplay based on it by a marvelously funny and gifted Chicago screenwriter named Kelly Powell, is going to be a movie. The working title is More Fool I and, if everything goes as planned, you'll get to see it in the fall or winter of next year.

(Yes, I'm shivering as I type this.)

It's been a whirlwind these past few months, a chaos of daily e-mail exchanges and occasional trips to the Windy City to consult with Kelly. Through it all, for both legal reasons and because I became suddenly, rabidly superstitious, I've shared the ongoing process with only a couple of my closest confidantes. Anyone who knows me can attest how difficult it is for me to keep good news to myself. It's been utter agony not to crow at the top of my lungs every time someone asks at happy hour or the grocery, "So, what's new with you?".

There's more.

For years, I've sworn I would never leave St. Louis. As I've often told anyone who'd listen, I've traveled all over the country and have yet to find anyplace I'd rather live. My family is here. My chosen family is here. Ted Drewes is here! I love this city and always will. It will always be home.

But in late May, I'll be moving to Chicago. I was fortunate on my last visit to find a great apartment in East Lakeview (the sole disappointment of the past few months was not getting the one I really wanted in Boystown proper) and I finished all the paperwork yesterday.

My agreement with HBO includes an option for a second film, based on the outline of a story I submitted last year about a group of friends who, coincidentally, somewhat resemble my buddy Jeff, The Giant Queen, The Twins, Jill the Lip-Schtick Lesbian and a thirty-something guy named "Brian", the same romantically cynical fellow at the center of More Fool I.

Kelly Powell and I will be collaborating on the second screenplay and on the ongoing work based on Poor Man. In addition, the plan is that principal filming of More Fool I will be done in Chicago -- where the story is now set -- and (how weird is it that this is what I'm most jazzed about?) I'll get to have at least a small part of my own in the movie.

So that's the news. I've got six months worth of stories saved up about all the confusion and craziness this wonderful, scary, thrilling thing has brought into my life. More than a few of them will spill out here in the days and weeks to come.

Those same days and weeks, however, will also be filled with more mundane concerns, such as finding a mover, wrapping up my job at The Rep (a move made all the more complicated by a recent, unexpected staff departure in my department) and about three million details. And, of course, a few teary "so-long" (not goodbye!) happy hours and dinners with the folks who make St. Louis so hard to leave. So if there are the same long gaps hereabout that have marked the past few months, I apologize upfront.

I'm just stupidly happy right now, and enormously grateful for the love and support I've felt every day, from my family, friends, dog, drinking buddies and you, the readers of The BradLands.

"Thank you" just doesn't say enough. I once thought it might but, well, "More fool I."

Further: If you've read this far, I encourage you to read this as well.

Sunday, March 21, 2004

Hip-Deep in Pie

Dan: You know, sometimes it's worth it, taking all the pies in the face. Sometimes, you come through it feeling good.

Casey: Yes.

Dan: And how was your day?

Casey: Sometimes you just stand there, hip-deep in pie.

My time in Austin was sublime. My re-entry into St. Louis society has been bumpy. Further bulletins when I finish wading through all this damned meringue.

Friday, March 5, 2004

The gayest weblog entry here to date

The gayest weblog entry here to date: Gentlemen, I'm here to tell you that Lance Arthur has more fabulosity in his pinkie finger than all of the so-called Fab Five combined, so when he speaks on matters of style, grooming and gracious living, you'd do well to listen.

About a year ago, I embarked on phase one of my Make Brad Better™ project. A lot of the plans were back-burnered right away, but it was clear from looking in the mirror that my perpetually problem skin wasn't going to take care of itself, so I sat down and developed one of those "regimens" all the cool boys were talking about.

Lance shared his yesterday so, for what it's worth, here's mine:

Exfoliating: Like Lance, I favor Anthony Logistics Facial Scrub, in part because it feels gentler than coarser scrubs while still getting the job done, but mainly because it's fragrance-free and claims to "remove irrelevant skin cells". Not just dead, irrelevant. A good budget alternative is Nivea for Men Deep Cleaning Face Scrub, although it is coarser and doesn't have as many natural, mild ingredients.

Facial: Anthony recommends using its Deep Pore Cleansing Clay mask twice a week. I use it once (Sunday) and split the difference during the week with the Bioré Self-Heating Mask. Both are great for deep cleaning and, combined with the Bioré Deep Cleaning Nose Strips once a week, pampering your poor pores.

Face Cleansing: I swear by Kiehl's Foaming Non-Detergent Washable Cleanser, a gentle lathering wash for surface dirt and oil. (Lance seems to favor Zirh "Clean"; I've never tried it, but I may have to give it a go, since I do like a menthol-cool feeling on my skin.)

Eyes: I've used Kiehl's Creamy Eye Treatment with Avocado and really like it, but these days, I favor Anthony Logistics Eye Cream. It's a bit pricier, but I can actually see the difference in the way it tightens and smoothes the skin under my perennially puffy peepers.

Lips: Day to day, I use Jack Black Intense Therapy Lip Balm; it doesn't feel heavy and absorbs easily and has an SPF of 25. All winter long, though, I've had a tin of Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm that a buddy gave me in my pocket and I really like it a lot.

Hair: Here's where I kind of fall off the queer wagon. I don't have a lot of hair to begin with, since I try to keep a close crop up top. So, much to my friend Jeff's dismay, I usually just buy Johnson's Baby Shampoo ("No more tears!" I say. "Enough is enough!" he says.) or Suave shampoo and conditioners. Last week, I picked up a bottle of Kiehl's All-Sport Everyday Shampoo to try. I can't say I notice a big difference, although I really like the light scent of the Kiehl's product. When I'm overdue for a clip job, I use For Men Hair Slick from The Body Shop to tame it through the "awkward" days.

Shaving: I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it. I'm always shopping for something to make it easier or more comfortable or (I wish) unnecessary. I tried Kiehl's Close Shavers Squadron Ultimate Brushless Shave Cream but couldn't quite get the hang of it. It seemed too thick to me. I was back to Barbasol Soothing Aloe, cheap and reliable, for a long while. A few weeks ago, I started trying Anthony Logistics Shave Gel and I'm really liking it. I've always preferred foam to gel, but this stuff feels great and seems to really keep my skin from getting irritated or razor burned. No matter what I use to whack through the brush, I follow a shave with Kiehl's Mentholated Ultimate Men's After-Shave All-Day Moisturizer. (I can't find it on Kiehl's website; I hope they haven't discontinued it.)

All-Over Skin: I keep a bottle of Kiehl's Deluxe Hand & Body Lotion with Aloe Vera & Oatmeal with me all the time, one in the bag, one by the bed, one in the bathroom. It's good stuff for all over, any time. When I feel like I've been beaten with the dry skin stick (pretty much all winter and on knees/elbows/rough patches all year long), I rely on The Body Shop's Cocoa Butter Body Butter. A good rubdown with this stuff after a shower and my skin feels fantastic all day. No more itchies!

As for the Make Brad Better™ initiative, I'll make it back to the gym and just maybe engage a personal trainer, probably after the end of the theatre season when I can approach it more earnestly. The 2004 plan for a happier, healthier me also includes a bi-monthly spa facial, professional massages every two weeks or so and, like Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, a manicure whenever I'm feeling particularly blue.

Why? Because I'm worth it.

Monday, February 23, 2004

BBWB-SXSW Save the Date

There are a couple of final details to be ironed out, but it appears that Break Bread With Brad SXSW 2004 is a go, and "official" invitations will be issued starting in the next 48 hours.

Of course there'll be fabulous door prizes, great food and, as always, your first Shiner on my tab, but the main attraction is the convivial company of the smartest, wittiest, kindest, best looking group of geeks ever gathered in one place. Guaranteed.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

On this day…

On this day: In 1952, Richard Attenborough and his wife, Sheila Sim opened in a new Agatha Christie play at London's Ambassador Theatre. Fifty-one years later, The Mousetrap continues to draw audiences -- it transferred to the St. Martin's in 1974 -- who are encouraged to keep its twist-ending to themselves.

The drama is played out at "Monkswell Manor," whose hosts and guests are snowed in among radio reports of a murderer on the loose. Soon a detective shows up on skis with the terrifying news that the murderer, and probably the next victim, are likely both among their number. Soon the clues and false leads pile as high as the snow. At every curtain call, the individual who has been revealed as the murderer steps forward and tells the audience that they are "partners in crime" and should "keep the secret of the whodunit locked in their heart."

I share my birthday, today, with The Mousetrap and with actors Jeffrey Hunter, Ricardo Montalban, John Larroquette, Christina Applegate; with illustrator Robert Ripley (believe it or not!); athletes Joe DiMaggio and Lenny Moore; and with Ms. Gloria Steinem of Toledo, Ohio. In all, not bad company.

Thanks, everyone, for the cards, gifts and good wishes. And if any among you happen to know how my particular story is going to play out, I encourage you, please, keep that secret locked in your heart. I love a good mystery and a ripping yarn and that, so far, is what life has given me.

Monday, November 10, 2003

(Almost) Last Call

(Almost) last call: Notifications of the place, time and other particulars for the fabulous Imbibe With Brad happy hour next week will be going out via eVite later today. If you want one, you'd better leave a note.

At My Age, You’d Think

At my age, you'd think: In just under 15 days from now, I'll turn 35 years old. If, as many have asserted, 30 is the new 20, then without benefit of drugs or time travel, I'm actually getting younger. Which is how I feel, so that's a bonus.

I want for very little. I don't want the body I had when I was 25, lithe yes but fragile certainly. I don't want the boyfriend I had ten years ago, although up until just a few weeks ago, I was certain I did. And I don't want the feeling I had at that age that all was possibility and everything was ahead of me, because while fewer things may be possible, there are good things behind me and better ahead and I wouldn't trade the memories, scars, experiences and adventures for anything else in the world.

And I'm not at all worried that I'm not keeping up with my historical peers. As Tom Lehrer once waggishly noted, "It is a sobering thought, for example, that when Mozart was my age he had been dead for two years."

Lehrer was 37 when he said that. Alas, poor Wolfgang. He started de-composing at my age, and I'm just beginning to find the music.

Wednesday, November 5, 2003

Imbibe with Brad NYC

If you're in New York City or within spitting distance in the tri-state area and would like to join me and my dearest celebrity friends for happy hour on Monday, November 17 -- particulars to be announced -- leave a comment below to receive an official invitation.

Attention Gawker stalkers: With all the utter fabulosity sure to be on hand, it'll be one-stop sighting shopping.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

Thursday, October 9, 2003

Alcohoroscopes

It's written in the stars bars: Matt points out this astrological guide to drinking styles among the gays. The pourcast -- er, forecast -- for Sagittarians like me is right on the mark:

In vino veritas -- and, for Sagittarius, in booze blurtiness: When buttered, they'll spill all your secrets and many of their own. Tactlessness aside, Sagittarius is just plain fun to drink with. This is a sign of serious partying (what else would you expect from the sign of Sinatra, Keith Richards, the Bush twins and Anna Nicole Smith?). They're the people who chat up everyone in the room, then persuade the entire crowd to travel somewhere else -- like a nightclub, or a playground, or Cancun. Good-natured hijinks are sure to ensue (including a high possibility of loopy groping; spontaneous Sag is a brilliant booty call).

Oh my, yes.

Thursday, October 2, 2003

Suffering through Albee

Suffering? Well, Albee! Despite the fact that my body seems on the verge of succumbing to The Crud™ (some wicked combination of SARS and a head cold, it seems) that's felled several of my students and what seems like half my office, I've decided to extend this weekend's trip to Chicago by a day and catch the press preview of Edward Albee's The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? at The Goodman Theatre on Monday night. Aside from the fact it's a remarkable work and that I'm curious to see what Robert Falls and his cast do with it, it'll also be good field research for my next few weeks at work.

And speaking of shows at my place, you've only a week or so left to see our production of Mary Zimmerman's Metamorphoses. I'm biased, of course, but it's a beautiful production and with no slight intended, I like our take on the show a good deal more than I did the Broadway production.

Sunday, September 21, 2003

Fray Cafe 3 CD

Telling tales: Speaking of The Fray, I'm a bit late in announcing that once again, Derek Powazek -- clearly suffering from some sort of blunt head trauma -- has ignored any sense of propriety or commercial viability and put my voice on a CD.

Yes, my story titled "Falling in Love with a Poor Man" (actually, a portion thereof) is featured in the august company of a dozen other storytellers and songwriters on a compilation from Fray Café 3, recorded live at the Mercury Lounge in Austin, Texas, during SXSW 2003 back in March. It's the Fray Café 3 CD! Order yours today, just 13 bucks. (Cheap!)

Derek was kind enough to send me a sample and I've finally found time to take a listen. It's impossible to capture the psychic energy of a Fray event on a medium as limited as CD, but damn, there are some good stories here (and a kickin' medley of 80s songs performed by Scott Andrew LePera, who also produced the CD). Seriously, go order one! Proceeds benefit The Fray Organization and future Fray events. Good cause! (Cheap!)

Monday, September 1, 2003

Windy City Dispatch

Sounds familiar: Once more I am in Chicago. At the Apple Store on Michigan Avenue. (I touched a G5! Oh yes, it will be mine.)

And, once again, I've had a fabulous weekend with friends. I've been bivouacked in East Lakeview in a neighborhood which has many advantages, not least of which are the retail and restaurant amenities near my hostelry and a Panera -- what we in the civilized world call St. Louis Bread Company -- just around the corner offering free WiFi, and it's just a brief walk to Boystown. So, you know, it's all a boy could ask for in a weekend hideaway.

Once again, I have had a delicious weiner -- Two, actually. Yum! -- at Hot Doug's, the best damn hot dog stand in Chicago.

And, once again, I'll be arriving home tomorrow just in time to welcome this week's special guest star.

No I'm not in a rut, kids. This is a groove.

Thursday, August 21, 2003

Sports Night Gone Astray?

Where are Dan and Casey? This is a longshot, but did anyone out there happen to order Sports Night: The Complete Series Boxed Set from my Amazon wishlist? Because I never got it. It was apparently purchased ages ago and if someone did, in fact, intend it as a gift, they must think me a most ungrateful lout. But I just noticed it today among the Purchased Items on my list and I know I didn't buy it for myself.

Of course as always, it is the thought that counts. So, quite belatedly, thank you for thinking of me, whoever you are.

Update: Several folks have written to say they've experienced the same thing, to their puzzlement. Mike proposes one explanation, based on his experience. Someone may have been cruising my wishlist, spotted the DVD set and decided they wanted it for their own. If they clicked through and ordered it for themselves, Amazon's software would still credit it as an order fulfilled from my list. So perhaps Dan and Casey aren't lost; they're just hanging out with someone else. Pity, that.

Monday, August 4, 2003

Slipped another notch

And in other utterly pointless news: This website right here has slipped another notch in a Google search for my first name. And rightly so. Numbers one and two are much deserving. Brad Paisley still makes the top ten, but we've managed to boot that Pitt piker off the first page. USA! USA!

Wednesday, July 23, 2003

Unexpected Tasks

Three Things I Didn't Expect to Do Today, But Did Anyway:

• Change a blown-out tire. In front of a church. In traffic.
• Give a television interview.
• A sweet guy named Ben. Again.

Wednesday, July 16, 2003

Yessir, that’s my tallywhacker

Oh, by the way, in case you were wondering: 21.

Monday, July 14, 2003

If you can find me, I’m here

If you can find me, I'm here: This is Day One. My personal deadline is November 10, but I'm going to give myself until my 35th birthday, which is 15 days later, just to be safe.

That concludes today's Cryptic Comment From Brad™, which I'm told are becoming tiresome. S'OK. I love you, but I'm not doing any of this for you.

Tuesday, July 8, 2003

Old .doc, new tricks?

Old .doc, new tricks? I'm reluctant to say anything to curse it, but after spending nearly two hours on a completely unexpected and thoroughly delightful conference call this morning, I'm extremely grateful I never throw anything away. You never know when you might need to attach something to an e-mail message that could change your life.

It looks like there might be some new life in a project I all but abandoned a long time ago. I'm positively vibrating at the thought. Further bulletins as events warrant.

Sunday, November 25, 2001

Me ‘n’ Bucky Dent

BORN ON THIS DAY: John F. Kennedy Jr., Andrew Carnegie, Joe DiMaggio, Karl Benz, Ricardo Montalban, Bucky Dent, Carry Nation, John Larroquette and some guy with a website.

Sunday, November 26, 2000

Birthday recap

Would it be possible to request another day or two of time off to recover from my four-day weekend? I didn't think so. Ah, well...it's been delightful. I got to spend nearly three whole days with my mother, doing things Thanksgiving-y. Such wonderful birthday greetings arrived from near friends and distant lands, including porn from N'awlins and a perfectly delightful "Perfect Year" from Indonesia. To top it all off, today I treated myself to a new sweater and the Divine Miss M's new album. Thanks to my deliciously loving friends, my 33rd year is off to a great start!

Wednesday, October 25, 2000

Rich, Corinthian leather…

Joe Dimaggio and Bucky Dent. Andrew Carnegie and Ricardo Montalban. Christina Applegate and...well, me. All born on November 25, one month from today. (Appropriately hedonistic birthday celebration plans in progress. Further bulletins as events warrant.)