Gay-shaded Artists

We call them 'gay-shaded' rather than  'gay' because they include not just gay and bisexual men but also straight women.

Here's a painting from one of the artists we discuss, Michael Breyette:

You can read the article and see the other great artists here.

Issue Six is Live!

Members of the Wilde Oats update group, and those who read this blog, get early notice of new issues.

Issue six has been uploaded.  The theme for this issue is historical.  Seven stories, a chapter from Nan Hawthorne's "An Involuntary King", a new serial and reviews of books and films. 

You can read it here.


[The illustration is by Eve le Dez, and it's for the story Ten Pages, Single Spaced]

Richard Natale

We're lucky to have an intriguing short story called Ten Pages, Single Spaced by Richard Natale for the December issue of Wilde Oats.  He is a writer, reporter and journalist with The Los Angeles Times, the Los Angeles Herald Examiner, Buzz magazine and Variety. He most recently worked as a junior executive at Paramount Pictures and Columbia Pictures.   His film Green Plaid Shirt has achieved critical acclaim and remains a best-seller.

Look out for his story in the new issue of Wilde Oats, available next week!!

Involuntary King

We'll be including a chapter from Nan Hawthorne's novel Involuntary King in the upcoming issue of Wilde Oats.   Here's an excerpt from the chapter:

Rory McGuinness sat on the straw on the floor of the shed he was tossed into the night of his arrival at Hucknall with O’Donnell. He piled some of the mildewing straw up to create some insulation against the increasingly chilly nights. He knew he must smell of the mildew and worse.

O'Donnell had not sought satisfaction from him while on the journey. Perhaps he might have to be discreet while in camp. It was three days since their arrival where O'Donnell had only his trusted men with him. He wondered why O’Donnell did not send the guards to drag him to his chamber. Had Rory mistaken his purpose after all? If so, what was the reason he was here?

The shed was built of vertical pieces of local wood lashed onto a wood frame and thatched with what was now damp straw. Being a storage place, no effort was made to stop up the gaps with moss or mud. Rory pressed wet straw in the worst offenders. There was no window, of course, for which he was grateful, but he could see enough of the fortress through the places where the wood slats did not come together. A bucket served for his waste, and he was fed daily what looked like the soldiers’ same supper. Most of the time, he sat in his warm corner trying to hold in his body heat.

Several times Rory noticed O'Donnell among the figures that moved about outside his prison. He saw him glance with an unreadable expression over towards him, but avert his face and hurry on his way. Rory wondered when O'Donnell would finally press his desire, wondered what he himself would do. Would he submit in order to survive? Alternatively, would he refuse and no doubt die? Would he have any warning and be able to prepare himself? 

Wilde Oats Artists

We've already mentioned one great illustrator for Wilde Oats, Gene Moore.  Today I'd like to mention another, Eve Le Dez.  As an author, it's always interesting to see how an artist perceives the character you created, and Eve's insights are unique and fascinating.

Comfort and Joy

A new Matt Brooks short story will be in the December edition of Wilde Oats.  A tale set during the terrible flu epidemic of 1918, it's about love and survival.  Here's a small excerpt:

"Porca madonna!" Lou exclaimed, exasperated.  "I've known mules less stubborn than you, you ... you... Hungarian plowboy! I tell you, you are going back to bed." He was nearly shouting, but Polo's mouth was set on 'intractable'.

"I am not going back to bed, little diva," Polo insisted, biting off each word and chewing the consonants.  "Scream all you like.  That may help you gather the goats at home, but it won't get me into bed unless you're there with me."

"You dare to speak to me like that?" Lou shouted.

"Ha!" Polo snapped his fingers.  "Yes! Just like that!"

Lou leaned across the table until his face nearly touched Polo's.  His voice was tight with menace.  "Save your sauce for the geese shitting in your stableyard a day's walk from godforsaken Rejetanya or wherever the hell it was.  I have things to do and I'm not leaving until you're in bed and you've promised to stay there."

"And I certainly will not promise.  You can shout until you croak like a toad.  It will get you nowhere."

"Like a toad, is it? And you heehawing like a mule.  What did I ever do to deserve a lover like this one," Lou shrieked, reaching for a vase.  "Cocciuto!"

"Rospo!" Polo shouted back, grabbing a pillow.  He lifted it in front of his face just as Lou flung the porcelain at him.

The vase hit square on the pillow and dropped unharmed to the carpet, splashing water onto Polo's pyjamas and slippers.  He looked down, saw the flowers lying in a sodden pile at his feet, and burst out laughing.

(The picture is of the  female impersonator Lionel Ames, and comes from this website)

Conversations in a Horse

The Trojan Horse by Tiepolo

Michael Gouda's funny play will be in issue 6.  He's had a few stories published in Wilde Oats and its predecessor magazine already, and it's good to have another.  The story's set inside the horse given by the Greeks to the Trojans.  You'll like it. 

Brian Holliday

Brian Holliday has had a couple of stories in Wilde Oats.   You can see his Wilde Oats page here.  One of his stories (Home Cooking) was subsequently accepted for publication in I Do Two!, the anthology written in support of gay marriage.  We're pleased to announce that we'll have another story from this author, entitled Christmas Eve, a heart-warming story of unexpected love from an unexpected place, in issue 6 of our magazine.

Here's a quote from the story:

I was busily shoving papers back into my briefcase, listening to comments from members of my own company, and then, suddenly, I saw these eyes.

You’ve got to understand, that’s not usually the first thing I notice about a guy. Most often I start my looking below the neck, sometimes below the waist, and sure, I get to the face eventually but, well… this was different. They were nice eyes, a blue so dark they were almost black, kind of startling because his brows and lashes were light, pale blond. That led me to his hair, the same pale blond color, longish and curling over his ears. His mouth was a real cupid’s bow with a funny downturn to the corners that made his smile unique. 

 The new issue will be published in December.

The photo is from Brian's Google group, which you can visit here. 

December Issue (no 6)

The deadline for new fiction submissions for this issue is October 8th. To see our submissions guidelines, go here. And of course, reading the stories we publish will give you a good idea of what we're looking for.

Gay FlashFiction

A new issue of our sister e-zine Gay FlashFiction is out, filled with nine short shorts -- flashfictions -- where plot, character and description all have to fit into 1000 words or less.

It's encouraging just how good the stories are, given the constraints imposed by the word limit. Go over there and read them.

Moonrise Over The Nile

It looks as if we might get the novella Moonrise Over The Nile by Anel Viz for Wilde Oats. It'll be published in several sections over a few issues because of its length, but the first episode will be in the next issue.

Here's a snippet:

Silently, so as not to disturb the sleeping Pharaoh, Apara rose from the couch and snuffed out the single oil lamp that flickered on the low table strewn with the remains of their supper. Darkness flooded the room. Moving cautiously lest he tread on one of the salukis that lay curled up on the floor, he went out onto the balcony to watch the moon rise over the Nile.

The chill night air caressed his naked body as gently as Pharaoh’s lips. Beyond the landing at the foot of the palace, the river stretched left and right like a motionless ribbon of empty space. The night was so dark, Apara could barely distinguish the outlines of the sacred city of Gebtu, one-half mile distant on the east bank.

He waited, gazing back at the cat-eyes of the goddess Bast that glinted unblinking in the inky depths of the heavens. They began to fade as falcon-headed Khonsu climbed from behind the dunes on the further shore, the pale disk of the moon cradled in his crescent headpiece. The sands lightened from dark ochre to glowing cream, the date palms cast faint shadows, the river came alive with the white ripples of lapping waves, and the massive columns of the balcony shimmered with reflected light.

Directly above him, undimmed by Khonsu’s rising, shone three stars in a straight line. Pharaoh had traced them in night sky after their first lovemaking and told him they were the khenen of Min, the god of rain, procreation and the harvest, and guardian of the moon. Then, kissing him, he’d said, “Yours is no less splendid.”

Victor Banis, Doyen of Gay Writing

Victor is an old friend to Wilde Oats. We've published a couple of his stories: Canals of Mars, a touching love story; and Strip Search, a wry reflection on getting old. We've also published a chapter from his novel Deadly Nightshade and in the most recent issue, an interesting and fun interview with him.

We're honoured to have his support. In our efforts to provide our readers with quality romantic and erotic male-to-male fiction, it's good to have stories from writers like him.

Victor Banis' website is here.

Dumb as Rocks

Dumb as Rocks by J W Smith, in the current issue, is a story about lifelong best friends. It's touching and heart-warming. You'll like it.

Here's an excerpt:

Tom’s known I’m gay for years. Hell, since we were in high school. It never made any difference to him. He remained my best friend. I never had any difficulty talking to Tooley about anything … well, except how I felt about him.

“Oh, it’s silly. Damn, at thirty-eight you’d think I'd know better.” I commenced to tell him the whole story. Our food came and as we ate I finished the story and ended up feeling sorry for myself all over again because I couldn’t tell him what really had me feeling down.

Tooley spooned up the last bit of the red chili sauce on his plate and pushed it away. He finished off the second beer that he’d had with his meal, set the bottle next to his plate and leaned forward. “Shay?”

I looked up at my old friend. He reached across the table and took my hand. I stared at our hands. “Can I ask you something?”

I looked back up at him and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

“Why do you keep doing it? I mean I’ve been watching you ever since that damn Lee left you - what? - ten years ago? You keep meeting these guys and you keep trying to form a relationship out of a toss in the sack. Every one of them leaves you high and dry. Why, Shay? Why do you do it?”

Issue 6

Issue 6 of Wilde Oats will be published in December. The deadline for fiction subs is 8th October.

Our theme for this issue is historical, though we'll also consider seasonal stories. We've had some interesting submissions already, but we still need more. Authors out there.... please submit.

The Memoirs of Colonel Gérard Vreilhac

Anel Viz has been a frequent contributor to Wilde Oats and its predecessor Forbidden Fruit. Recently his first published novel The Memoirs of Colonel Gérard Vreilhac has been published by DreamSpinner Press, as an e-book and paperback.

You can read a review of Mr Viz' novel here.

Here is a quote from the review:

"There are four main romantic interests in Gérard’s life and each is drawn in loving detail. There is Julien, the charming and endangered aristocrat, who appears and disappears more than once in the course of the novel. There is Laurent, the Parisian, effeminate in his dealings with Gérard but adventurous and bloodthirsty when it comes to soldiering. There is Akmoud, the exotic Egyptian servant, who makes Gérard’s time in Egypt pleasurable and memorable. There is Anatole, the French prostitute who leaves the streets for Gérard and eventually follows him into the countryside. There are others, but these four are at the heart of the book and we care deeply for the fate of each one. Nothing runs smoothly for anyone, and there is sometimes almost unbearable tension, which can be followed by tears of pity or a sigh of heartfelt relief. Whilst Gérard never denies his attraction to other men, he admits to loving these four and it is one of the strengths of the novel that the reader is brought to love them too."

One of the things we pride ourselves on at Wilde Oats is how tyro writers in our pages go on to fame and fortune. Anel Viz is just one of them. We provide a place for quality gay-shaded fiction, a place where gay/bi fiction can be published and read, whether you're an unknown or the doyen of gay publishing.

Keep reading our zine -- one day you'll be able to say.... I knew him (or her) when....

Wilde Oats August 2010 (Issue 5)

The latest issue of Wilde Oats is now available, here. There are 9 new stories from a mixture of familiar and new writers, and an excerpt from Ruth Sims' latest novel; book and film reviews; an interview with the doyen of gay writing, Victor Banis; and a new artist, Gene Moore, with some very sexy and pleasing paintings, one of which we've posted today.

Enjoy!