6/22/07

On the Lambda

by Bill Burleson

At about the one-and-a-half hour mark, I abandoned all hope and went for the buffet like a vengeful angel. A few attendees and a number of staff were in the lobby to witness me stuffing my face with all the food I could fit on a little appetizer plate.

Then this young author, a Princeton student with a two-book deal with HarperCollins who I had talked with earlier over a similar plate of food, walked out of the auditorium, saw me gnawing on a piece of roast beef, and laughed. “You’ve pretty much thrown in the towel, haven’t you?” he said. He’s right: not that I wasn’t enjoying the programming. I was. It’s just that the auditorium is oversold and I had to sit on the steps, and after an hour-and-a-half, I just couldn’t do it any longer. Not if I didn’t want to end up in traction, anyway.

The sold-out event was the 19th Lambda Literary Awards. On May 31, about 300 well-dressed queer folks packed into the Fashion Institute of Technology auditorium in New York City. “This was the 19th presentation of the awards,” Charles Flowers, Executive Director of the Lambda Literary Foundation, told me after the ceremony.

“Lambda Rising Bookstore started the awards in 1989, and the Book Report in the early ’90s. The bookstore ran both programs until 1996, when they were spun off and Lambda Literary Foundation was created to run them. We’ve been an independent nonprofit since 1996.”

I came because I write a column for the Lambda Book Report and was a judge for one of the 25 categories this year. Well, that’s one reason. I also came to meet in person some of the authors I’ve read and admired. But the main reason I was in Midtown Manhattan was to meet Flowers and all the others I’ve met through e-mail, built friendships with, and yet have never met face-to-face.

Take Sheela Lambert for example. We had never met, but as judges in the same category, we must have sent a thousand e-mails to each other over the past year. I met Lambert right as I entered the reception. Really, I’m not sure how I knew it was her, I just did.

I asked her what she thought of being a judge. “I loved it,” she said, “I was very flattered to be asked.” What were the best parts? “I had a group of people to discuss the books with, and it was fascinating to me that we had such different opinions at times.”

After the event, we checked in again. She was exuberant: “I got to open the envelope and call the winners up on stage. I’m still high off that!”

Another person who was flying high was Ron Suresha: “This was my second time at the awards ceremony, and I must say that it’s much more exciting when you have a book in the running!” In his case, two books—in 2006 he edited the anthologies Bi Guys and Bi Men (the latter working with Pete Chvany).

Neither of which won, but, says Suresha, “…just in case, I wrote some acceptance notes. I was planning to say how likely it is that George W. Bush is a closeted bisexual man, according to my research of his sexual history. As you can imagine, thinking about saying that at the Lammy ceremony made me incredibly nervous all day long.”

Even with all this excitement, Suresha told me after the event, “The best part of the evening, actually, was meeting the other bi authors. A group of 14 of us went out for dinner and drinks afterward—that’s when I really got to chat with the other bi authors for the first time. We griped about our publishers, sketched out our plans for bi domination of the universe, and had a great time.”

What strikes me about this event is how it is just like any other community group. The only difference is that the members of this community are spread all over the country. For example, “We actually have a geographically diverse board,” according to Flowers. “We have 7 board members, two from LA, two from San Francisco, one from Chicago, one from Baltimore, and one from Florida/Boston.”

Of course, this is all made possible because of the Internet. As we all know, it is not unusual to have a community group that exists either solely because of or greatly facilitated by cyberspace. And cyberspace is just fine, but for me, face time is what counts. It occurs to me that I’m with Suresha: the best part of this event isn’t the awards or the politics of gay liberation or the furthering of GLBT writing, but meeting all the people I’ve worked with via e-mail, and joking with a young author from Princeton.

Finally, I return to the auditorium, and ultimately the ceremony takes over three hours. I say my goodbyes, and I’m back home again. I sign on the computer and begin e-mailing the people I just saw. I guess community is where you find it.



Do you want to know who won a Lammy? Go to www.lambdaliterary.org. Have a group that you would like to see written about? Contact me at www.forwhomthebilltolls.org
.