from the diary: “Wednesday 6/17/87
“Boring and endless day at the library. I searched books, sorted courtesy cards, brain decayed. When I finally got off work – only worked five hours – I meandered or staggered or plodded or whatever downtown and bought comics. Contemplated buying a new record but dint have the passion for it so I just sat in Old Courthouse Square and read Dancer from the Dance.”
Andrew Holleran’s Dancer from the Dance is another NYC gay tricking novel. Sex seemed the only thing in life one should look for. These days I see such writing as literary porn, at least as much fantasy as fact. I remember the novel having a downer of an ending, too.
On how he discovered writing, “In 8th grade we were asked to write reports on Alaska and Montana and I became known in my class for setting them in a context. The information was always transmitted between two people on a deck overlooking a sunset and when I’d start describing the sunset the class would shriek! I think that’s when I discovered writing was fun and that I could just let go.” That’s from a 1996 interview conducted by Owen Keehnen.
In a more recent interview the interviewer at one point reflects, "I was at a gay party the other night and told people I was going to be interviewing you.” Holleran finishes his sentence, “And no one had heard of me.”
I didn’t know “Andrew Holleran” was a pseudonym until researching this post.