FOR ALMOST THIRTY YEARS, Alyson Books has been publishing GLBT authors, often when no other publisher would dare sign them on. After the independent publishing house was purchased by Regent Media last year (which also owns The Advocate, Out, and many other titles in print and on-line, as well as TV shows), the new owners recruited Don Weise to build on Alyson’s longtime success by nurturing its reputation and establishing new categories, including self-help, erotica, and genre fiction.
Weise, who’s barely in his forties, has been working with gay authors throughout his award-winning career (he’s won three Lambda Literary Awards to date). Before joining Alyson he had been an editor at Cleis Press and Carroll & Graf, where he launched the publishing house’s gay and lesbian division. Weise has worked with many influential gay and lesbian authors over the years, such as Edward Albee, Edmund White, Leslie Feinberg, Ann Bannon, and Gore Vidal. 
From his new office in New York City, Weise discussed his vision for Alyson going forward and shared his views of the current state, as well as the recent history, of GLBT literature.
Natalie Hope McDonald: You’re taking the reins of a company that’s synonymous with gay literature for almost three decades. Looking back, what do you consider to be Alyson’s greatest achievements?
Don Weise: Although I’ve been following Alyson for almost twenty years—either as an editor or reader—it’s difficult to comment on the company’s long history because it encompasses so many books and people. Not to mention three cities—first Boston, then Los Angeles, and finally New York, where our offices have been for the past five years. When I started in November, one of the first things I did was write to Sasha Alyson, whom I don’t know, to introduce myself and to share with him what an honor it was to be named publisher of the largest and oldest GLBT book publisher. Although he hasn’t owned the company in many years, I felt responsible for reaching out to him. Basically I was thanking Sasha for having the guts to start a gay press against the odds and I suppose I was trying to convey to him that the spirit with which he operated the press was very much kindred to my way of thinking.
When I look at our backlist and see the first GLBT children’s books—Heather Has Two Mommies and Daddy’s Roommate—or the first African-American gay anthologies—In the Life and Brother to Brother—or the S/M classics Coming to Power and Leatherfolk, I see a publisher with a wide vision of who we are as GLBT people. Taken together, this sampling of books recognizes that some of us are parents, some of us are people of color, and some of us enjoy sex involving BDSM. Some of us might even be all of the above. To my thinking this inclusive view is an extraordinary achievement unto itself. While I could name any number of books that I’m proud to say Alyson has published, I think the barrier-breaking nature of our past is what excites me most.
NHM: What new ideas will you be bringing to Alyson?
DW: The majority of 2009 books were already acquired before I arrived or were at least in the works, so to some degree these titles will only partially reflect the changes in store. Moving forward, the new Alyson will be substantially different in a number of ways. First, my partnership with Regent Media, our parent company as of last September, will allow me to reach more readers than ever before. Regent also owns Gay.com, Here! TV, The Advocate, Out, HIV Plus, and dozens of GLBT web sites, all of which are available to me in terms of coverage. That’s millions of GLBT people seeing my books every month. However, these properties will additionally be a source of content, and I very much look forward to creating book projects based on Here’s programming, not to mention articles appearing in The Advocate and Out that might be expanded into books. There’s an incredible amount of synergy within the company all of a sudden, and I’m thrilled to be working closely with so many talented people—and you’d be surprised how many talented people there really are under one roof.
Beyond these partnerships, I hope to take Alyson’s editorial focus in new directions, including into areas not previously explored much, such as current affairs, politics, serious history and biography, including works that might otherwise have been released by a university press but have enough commercial potential for me to acquire them. There’s a tremendous shortage of intelligent GLBT books for intelligent GLBT people, and my mission in the seasons to come is to help fill that void. I’ll also be working with big name authors who probably wouldn’t associate with Alyson. On the other hand, I’m very interested in popular areas, too, such as true crime, sports, the military, and pornography.
NHM: Can you give us any examples?
DW: I’m about to start a series of books on gay serial killers, for example, and see no reason why that can’t exist on my list next to a book on the gay politics of Barack Obama or the memoir of a gay Iraqi living in political exile. The bottom line across the board, regardless of subject matter, will be quality, but also simply breaking out of the straitjacket of what’s expected from GLBT literature. Like so many people, I’m tired of the on-the-money, well-behaved, predictable stuff that’s been handed to us.
NHM: There are so many challenges for print publishers in today’s increasingly digital world. How would you describe the state of publishing today?
DW: Publishing is definitely in a major transition phase at the moment, particularly when it comes to technology, which keeps changing and improving all the time. No one in the industry has this figured out, and what’s to come tomorrow is anyone’s guess. It’s undeniable that e-books will become more and more popular as the ways in which we access content in general become a lot less print-driven. I’ve yet to figure out why some people feel threatened by e-books. Shouldn’t it be exciting to have more options? I don’t see e-books completely replacing print anytime soon, though, and it’s possible that they never will entirely, much as television didn’t replace radio and the Internet didn’t replace television. As a publisher, I’m less concerned with the format through which people access my books and more concerned that they do access those books! I’m happy to provide content through as many channels as necessary.
NHM: What about GLBT publishing? Is it at risk as people find other ways to communicate and access information?
DW: GLBT publishing is at a crossroads, needless to say. A couple years ago we lost my old publisher, Carroll & Graf, which once brought out as many as twenty new GLBT titles a year, to a business merger. Harrington Park Press, which also put out a fair amount, soon followed, as did to some degree Suspect Thoughts, which once had a vigorous list of gay titles. When I was brought on at Alyson, the owner asked who our competition was, and frankly I didn’t know what to say. University of Wisconsin Press? This is a very different scenario than where we stood fifteen years ago or more. I won’t do another roll call of all the key players in GLBT books back in the day, but suffice to say most of these people are either gone or have moved on to other areas of interest.
I hasten to add that this is not particular to GLBT books but a feature of publishing in general; we sometimes forget this simple fact—gay books and their editors struggle in the same marketplace that all books and editors struggle in, much as gay booksellers face the same market conditions as other independent booksellers. I’m not denying that there are challenges particular to working with gay books—there are—but I’m not going to get caught up in defeatism. You can lament the situation as unfair and throw up your hands—as a lot of people do—or you can face reality and come up with ways to meet the demand. I’ve taken the latter path, first at Cleis Press in the mid 1990’s, where we doubled our sales during a time when so many feminist publishers and booksellers were closing, and then at Carroll & Graf, where I launched a new and quite successful line of GLBT books at a mainstream house, in spite of hearing over and over that no mainstream house would ever again launch such a line. I remain very hopeful about the future of GLBT books regardless of the present challenges in the business. The trick, I think, will be to evolve with the times—in fact, to welcome these challenges as opportunities and to adapt accordingly.
NHM: What do you consider to be the most important gay books of all time?
DW: That’s a big question and I think impossible to pin down. What I can talk about are the writers who matter most to me. But even the definition of what matters to me has changed over time, as it has for most people. What I needed when I was first coming out isn’t necessarily what I need today. I no longer look for a novelist to take me by the hand and show me the gay world. Now I’m much more interested in works that speak to some basic truth that resonates with my own experiences, especially truths that still aren’t typically explored in gay literature. I keep going back to John Rechy’s work, for example, because even to this day the “sex hunt,” as John wonderfully calls it, remains an area that, when it’s dealt with in gay fiction, often comes off as so silly, so titillating, so wide-eyed, whereas in John’s books it’s simply a normal function of his characters’ lives, in much the same way that it’s a normal function of mine. But it’s not just the sex lives of gay men that appeal to me as a reader; Joan Nestle and Patrick Califia, for example, also intrigue me with their brilliant, highly personal writings. Imagine the clarity and courage Joan had to write “My Mother Liked to Fuck.” I think it says something significant about gay literature that in order to see my sex life rendered realistically I need to return to the past, including to the lives of lesbian sex radicals. Or maybe I’m just missing out on the current crop of gay authors who are off my radar. I’d love to discover that I’ve overlooked someone fabulous.
NHM: You’ve certainly edited many famous authors along the way, like Gore Vidal. What’s been your proudest achievement?
DW: Certainly working with Vidal was the biggest thrill of my career, not least because this was also my first book. By the time I approached him about working together I’d read all his essays, including the really dated ones on Nasser’s Egypt and Barry Goldwater. Of everything he’d published I especially loved his writings on sexuality. Despite how long ago these pieces were written, they hold up very well—they were ahead of their time. And I kept thinking, “Never mind Nasser and Goldwater. Why can’t there be a book of just these essays?” Figuring I had nothing to lose by proposing such a book, I drew up a table of contents and mailed it to him in Italy. You can’t imagine my surprise the morning I arrived at work to find a fax on my desk saying “Yes, I will do your book. Contact my agent at the number below.” Contrary to his famously forbidding image, Vidal was incredibly generous and patient with someone who was obviously just starting off. There was a small amount of editing done over the phone, and he’d move through the text so fast that I could barely keep up, much less ask him to slow down or repeat himself. I remember thinking the whole time, “You’re in way over your head!” And I was, which I look back on fondly because it’s funny to think I was once on the phone with Gore Vidal talking about Jack Kerouac’s cock. But I’m no less in awe today than I was at the beginning—I still wouldn’t call him anything other than Mr. Vidal. Not that I ever have the opportunity to; we’ve not spoken since the book came out, and I’d be surprised if he remembered me.
NHM: I remember Vidal’s story about Kerouac well, probably the first that ever publicly revealed the Beat author’s true—and highly complicated—sexuality. With what other authors have you particularly enjoyed working?
DW: I’ve worked with a lot of famous GLBT writers—Edward Albee, E. Lynn Harris, Leslie Feinberg, Samuel R. Delany, Marijane Meaker, Andrew Holleran, and Dennis Cooper, to name just a handful that I especially enjoyed working with—but I think of all of them, I’m closest to Ann Bannon and Edmund White. I spent a lot of time with Ann when I was starting off in San Francisco, shepherding her re-issues through publication and attending many, many readings, and in the process came to feel as if she were my lesbian mother. Considering how warm and caring Ann is, I don’t see how anyone could not feel this way! As lovable as she is at her events, let me assure you that Ann is even more lovable when you know her personally. I became friends with Edmund later, after I moved to New York and knew practically no one. Actually, I didn’t know him either—I had Edmund’s e-mail address from when I had approached him before I left California about working together on a collection, much as I’d approached Vidal. I said that I was new in town and asked if he would have lunch with me. I was nervous as hell but Edmund put me at ease immediately because he’s impossible not to like, especially when he turns on the charm and particularly after he offers to introduce you to his circle of important friends, which he did. Not a week after that lunch I was sitting in his living room at a cocktail party meeting the people who were about to become my new friends. To whatever degree Vidal helped launch my career by saying yes to my first book, Edmund opened the door to the next chapter through graciously making connections for me.
NHM: Any writers you’re eyeing for future projects?
DW: I should be so lucky to publish Michael Cunningham, Clive Barker, Chuck Palahniuk, and Dorothy Allison.
NHM: Plenty of critics say gay publishing is losing its steam, becoming a part of the bigger industry rather than remaining a specialty niche. What’s your reaction?
DW: To the extent that GLBT people remain marginalized, our literature for the most part will be similarly marginalized, which is why presses like Alyson remain vital. I’m willing to take chances and set my own rules so far as that’s possible and my list of books reflects that freedom. I also know the gay market better than any editor at the big houses, and my list reflects that, too. At the same time, the editors at the big houses are responsible for some of the best GLBT books on the market—much of which is more interesting to me personally than what some of our own presses produce. But if you subtract from these places all the comic memoirs about growing up a sissy or books by gay celebrities and novels by bestselling authors, the presence of gay literature at the big houses is suddenly a lot less impressive. I don’t see this dynamic improving anytime soon.
NHM: Do you expect that the quintessential coming-of-age book may become less important to younger generations who spend much of their lives online?
DW: It depends on what a given author does with the quintessential coming-of-age book. If he or she recycles the old model as so many writers do, I see no point in publishing them. On the other hand, if he or she shows us something new, takes into consideration the complexities particular to the here and now (as so many writers don’t), I think there’s tremendous value. The Internet doesn’t render these kinds of books obsolete merely because it makes connecting with others who are also coming out easier than it was in the past. If anything the Internet encourages people to share their stories, which to me suggests that coming out is being written about more than ever, albeit less formally and presumably in a less anguished manner. But I think the basic notion of “coming out” has been further radicalized in new and exciting ways by the transsexual and transgender movements. There’s so much that remains to be written about.
NHM: Is that what makes GLBT publishing important? The stories it imparts?
DW: Whether it’s via a book publisher large or small, an e-publisher, or on-line, there’s room for everyone. Publishing gay literature remains important and will continue to remain important regardless of format because sometimes our lives can’t be reduced to a 4,000-word magazine article or a two-hour film. Furthermore the simple act of reading a book-length work and the satisfying intellectual demands reading makes on our imagination cannot be replicated by any other experience.
NHM: Will there be a day when the notion of GLBT literature becomes simply literature?
DW: Of course we’re often told “gay literature is dead” and “no one reads,” usually by failed writers looking to justify their difficult circumstances. As a publisher, I see this differently. I hear from GLBT readers all the time, many of them excited to learn about new titles, but a fair number also disgruntled that our own presses aren’t producing more serious books. This is a complaint I take to heart as Alyson’s new publisher. But the demand is there, and we ought to take advantage of it. I don’t have to be a publisher to look around the subway car, as I did recently, and count sixteen people reading books—which is to say nothing of all the other people reading magazines and newspapers, and still others reading books on their Palm Pilots. No one can argue that the publishing industry isn’t going through major upheavals at the moment, but what business isn’t these days? A lot of industries are in fact doing much worse. I don’t know how long it will take for GLBT literature to exist simply as literature, but for now I’m committed to publishing the most thoughtful, provocative, and just plain good writing by and for GLBT readers that I can.
Natalie Hope McDonald is a freelance writer and editor in Philadelphia. You can reach her online at www.nataliehopemcdonald.com.
