andy cannon

A lovely Christmas chapter, very cozy and domestic.

I don't remember if it was Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* (*But Were Afraid to Ask) or an equally ignorant book of the same era that assured curious readers that gay gourmets used butter to ease anal intercourse and auto mechanics commonly used motor oil. It may not have contributed to a lack of progress to Gay Rights, but it certainly dampened the enthusiasm of teenage me to try anal.

That is perceptive, and I think it's at the heart of what I see as the differences between genre fiction and literary fiction. In genre fiction, the protagonist has to be likeable, and there has to be a happy ending (believe it or not I am plodding towards a happy conclusion!). The main characters' flaws are more quirks, while in literary fiction there can be a fatal flaw. Billy Budd has that stammer that flusters him and ultimately drives his tragic conclusion. In spite of O'Brien's sarcastic hyperbole, Jamie does have flaws: his sword handling is not adept, he is impulsive, he is indiscreet in what he commits to paper and what he admits to Mr. Turner, the surgeon. None of that rises to the level of a fatal flaw. O'Brien is oblivious to what could be Jamie's fatal flaw, namely he is queer in a milieu that does not tolerate the expression of that.

That was a big part of compensation in the Royal Navy. After the Crown took its share, the Captain took 1/4, the Lieutenants 1/8, the mids and petty officers 1/8, the warrant officers 1/8, the Admiral 1/8, the Marines and the rest of the crew 1/4. Of course, in true bureaucratic fashion, the payout could be delayed for years.

But, now I have a lingering question…why would we need to be unstoppable? What would there be to stop us from living as we do? What or…who? Well, there's nothing ominous about that. No, sir, nothing at all!

The Seagull and the Storm HMS Absolute passed a restless night after the reconnaissance sortie failed to flush the French cutter. Dawn found the ship surging windward beneath a brisk breeze, sails taut and white against the blue. Lieutenant Morris, eyeing the trim of the topsail on the mainmast, gave a curt nod, and a party of nimble sailors clambered aloft to make the necessary adjustments. Bare feet gripped the ratlines; the sailors rose as dark silhouettes against the sky.

There are games within games going on here. Fantastic chapter!

I have not been to Kona, but this brings back fond memories of time in Hilo. Great chapter!

Interesting chapter with a complex theme handled with sensitivity.

That's good to know. Thank you!

Well, that's an excellent point. It didn't occur to me that in that era, a boy of his class would probably be largely illiterate, as possibly so would his mother. Shall we write that off to authorial license and imagine an idyllic England where nine-year olds penned sonnets between shifts at the mill?

And they all seem to be centered around the Sacred Underwear!

Thank you for your kind words! I hope you enjoy the rest of it.

This Mermaid's Throne place sounds like a lot of fun. I'll pass on the glittergin, though.

Malte, you sly dog! That was an unexpected development. I look forward to seeing if Åke goes to Leiden to see Matthijs armed with this new expertise!

Lovely, well-written story. I am a bit lost in the details of the chess games, but I can follow the moves between Åke and Matthijs with no problem!

By all the saints, that would be Himself allowing the beast to commit sacrilege, to be sure. Keep up the sass, boyo, and you and the cat will both be sleeping in the barn.

Mrs. O'Brien thinks a Galway priest is no better than you deserve and is praying for your blasphemous soul. There'll be no pudding for youse, that's for certain.

Eyes on the Reef Early Morning, Calm Seas The hazy morning smeared the sea with grey light. The wind had fallen away to a breath, only enough to twitch the topsails. HMS Absolute creaked gently on the swells, rising and falling as if asleep. But no one was sleeping. The deck was too quiet. The usual thud of boots and call of orders had dulled, as though the ship herself were holding back sound. Men worked, hands to the brightwork, coils re-stowed, powder cartridges ch

A lovely, tranquil low-angst story about two men in Montana combining their lives. Some nice passages about food give a unique spin to the tale.

Great chapter!

I just read yesterday that Mormon boys are to gay porn what Catholic schoolgirls are to straight porn, and here is Elijah as Defense Exhibit A.

“Tonight will be your last night as a mortal, William. Tomorrow night…you join me forever more.” Can't wait to see how the mysterious equipment plays into this!

A raw cinema-verite treatment of a period of time in the narrator's life when love and heartbreak were always just around the corner.

What a heartbreaking conclusion to this magnificent series of tales. That kiss... 😍