Fetishism, pornography,
self-publishing, prejudices ― and sports! They are some of the issues that Antonio Heras (Jaén,
1979) talks about with regard to his gay erotic collection Un blanco
fácil. Please be our nosy guest.
SPANISH GAY FICTION: You have opted for self-publishing. What advantages
and disadvantages do you find in this way of publishing?
ANTONIO HERAS: I was very
reluctant at first. I wanted to become a writer the conventional way: supported
by a publishing company. And they did for some years; Armado de impaciencia (“Armed with Impatience”),[1]
my first book, was published in 2014 by a traditional publishing company. And in
2016 a company specialized in e-books launched my novel Tus palabras sin sentido (“Your Meaningless Words”).[2]
However, when these contracts were over, I decided to launch these two books on
my own. On one side, to try my luck; on the other, to enjoy more control and
information over the product contents, ways to reach the reader, etc. I liked
the adventure, though in the last few months I am up to move my books from
Amazon to Lektu,[3] a
platform that seems to be friendlier to both users and authors. In short, my
experiences in both self-publishing and traditional publishing do not differ
much: the sales were way low on both
occasions.
SGF: How was the creative process of Un
blanco fácil?
AH: I uploaded the title story
of the collection as an experiment. People bought and I got driven. “What if I
add another story?” Thus, I recovered a couple of old stories, and people kept
buying. Then I said to myself: “What if I add another story for every
purchase?” And that is what I did ― though there was a moment when more than twenty
stories had to be included, so I stopped. Anyway, it helped me assemble the
current collection ― which finally consists of nine stories (some produced just
for the book) ― and I really loved the experience. My idea was that the original
purchasers could update their eBook, but I am afraid that it has been impossible
for some people, and Amazon has not offered me the right solution. In any case,
if these readers ask me, I will send the complete book. Besides, the printed
book, that some friends of mine have been demanding, will be for sale in some
weeks.
SGF: Nowadays accessing to visual material with pornographic content is
easy and usual, and most users do it for the sole purpose of getting horny. Does
erotic fiction just fulfill the same function?
AH: Generally speaking, I
think it plays a different role. Or at least it has a different sense of timing.
If someone wants to jerk off, they just need to search for videos or pictures online:
there is a world of massive pornography at their disposal. Conversely, literature
needs something else from the reader; it requires more attention, and it is not
that straightforward. It can work for getting excited, of course, but in a
different level, I guess; perhaps more up in your mind rather than down in your
underwear. Quality in literature is hard to achieve, no matter the genre; as an
author, I have learned not to cry with anger and impotence every time I read my
writings again.
SGF: There is a common denominator in all the stories: gay eroticism. However,
each story belongs to a distinctive genre, as a means to avoid reiteration at any
cost.
AH: That is right; in my
stories I wanted to avoid a succession of clichés and topical scenes: they meet, they fuck, the end / they meet,
they fuck, the end. . .As an author, I had a wonderful time mixing genres on
the common base of eroticism; I wish the same to the reader.
SGF: Is there any author or piece of erotic fiction that you esteem as
an example in your writing?
AH: I do not usually like reading
erotic literature; at least, not the mainstream. However, I remember Almudena
Grandes’s The Ages of Lulu[4]
― a brilliant novel ― and also the works of Marguerite Duras, Henry Miller. .
.I do not know whether they can be considered as erotic fiction writers, after
all. Perhaps they can. Oh, wait! I almost forget the immense Marquis de Sade (whose
painful depravation is beyond words), Dennis Cooper, my favorite (living) author,
and Jean Genet, my favorite (dead) author.
SGF: Does gay erotic fiction have a wide audience?
AH: My works do not sell well.
If I had to live off my book sales, I would have died from starvation years ago.
SGF: There is a common leitmotif throughout Un blanco fácil: the sportsman and his equipment. How important is
fetishism in creating erotic fiction? What is your personal attitude towards
fetishism?
AH: Fetishism can be a very
useful tool for erotic fiction, indeed. Whatever it seems, I am not quite
kinky; I choose the person rather than the object.
SGF: In the title story you pun on the real names of famous footballers.
According to you, why has no elite footballer come out publicly at this stage
in the game?
AH: It is a shame that no foremost
male footballer has opened out about a sexual orientation different from
heterosexuality in our days. The blame may fall on sponsors and football clubs mainly,
but also some mossbacked supporters (at least, the prevalent voices on the
media). Anyway, this is an individual choice; the courage to show your self should
be stimulating enough. Elite sportsmen from many other disciplines came out DECADES
ago, serving as big examples for generations of fans of all ages. In a society
in which football is such an important and popular and profitable business, a
top-level footballer daring to make the first move would be a turning point. I
know no case in real life other than a famous event that happened years ago: there
was a player ready to come out on the cover of Zero magazine,[5]
but they said that his club eventually prevented him from doing it.
SGF: And the reason why you selected the names for your characters from
the list of Real Madrid CF players is. . .
AH: The reason was truly
banal: they were just the ones that I felt physically attracted to the most; at
least, the late 90s/early 00s squads. Besides, I found funny the double meaning
in blanco fácil.[6]
The story was originally written for a website in which users romanticized
about the hottest footballers of the hour, and they even produced (mostly pornographic)
stories about meetings in locker rooms, showers, etc.; to sum up, jerk-off
material. A couple of years ago, while searching for other stuff on my computer,
I accidentally found the file and occurred to upload it online.
I do not like laughing at
anyone by branding them as gay; for
me, that is a homophobic, counter-productive attitude. The theory that homophobes are repressed homos underlies
too latent homophobia, and it really does not help the LGBT cause at all.
SGF: The story “Homo Sci-Fi,” in which the female character is flicking
the bean while peeping into two guys having sex, reminds me of a trend in
American erotic fiction: women writing M/M fiction for other women mainly. Why has
not this movement repeated in our country?
AH: I honestly have no idea. I
think that it is an interesting kind of fiction; it reminds me of the yaoi and bishōnen
concepts: erotic and romantic Japanese comics featuring gay boys whose main
audience is young girls.
SGF: Regarding the story “El cuarto de la plancha,” imagination helps
break the barrier between the labels homo
and hetero. Do you believe that human
beings are actually bisexual?
AH: I feel that personality
and closeness are key facts in sexual attraction; in that sense, there may be a
moment when that presumably self-imposed barrier dividing your likes and
dislikes might fade away.
SGF: In “Con-tacto” you depict a common place in erotic fiction: getting
fondled by a stranger at the subway. Have you ever experienced it by yourself?
AH: Yes, it happened to me
once, but I spare you my reaction.
SGF: Concerning the story “Hermanos,” have you ever known of any case of
brother-brother incest personally?
AH: No. If I knew,
I would not see it disgusting; I would try to get to know them ― though I would
feel a kind of awkward, or curious about their living through it, no doubt. I
think that this issue is still quite taboo, at least in our society.
SGF: In “El colgante,” when the male protagonist has sex with his
friend, you say: “It is his pureness what he likes the most; there is nothing
artificial around him. Nothing surrounding him, squeezing his body; there are
no watches or necklaces, no earrings or makeups” ― Can it be considered the
very author’s declaration of principles?
AH: No, there is usually no declaration
of principles in my writings; not that clear, at least ― there must be
principles, for sure, though accidentally ―. Anyway, it is the character’s thoughts
what is shown in that quote. He seems to have a too narrow view of the circumstances
around him; it may be a sexist, or at least patriarchal, view. Connecting
falseness to the image of a woman is something absurd and old-fashioned: from
ancient times, almost from original sin.
SGF: You work as a member of the protection staff in a museum. If any
given day you had to face a situation like the one narrated in “Artistas
terroristas,” what would be your reaction?
AH: People who must handle
visitors daily in their workplace know from experience that surrealist
situations are commonplace, and you meet people who could inspire a short story
or a short film, at least. In “Artistas terroristas” I tried to invoke a
recurring fear: visitors trying to damage the exhibited works in a fit of
madness ― though they do it in such a strange way in my story. In that case, my
reaction would be like anyone else’s, I guess: I would get scared and use my
walkie talkie to call the security guards.
SGF: The portrait of a sexy man with a small penis in a non-negative,
non-problematic way seems to be a taboo in erotic fiction.
AH: Hot men with small penises,
with no six-packs, of a certain age. . .There are so many taboos and prejudices,
and we must break them all down; not only in erotic fiction (not only in
general literature, in fact) but also in real life, in the way we interact with
the others.
SGF: Tell us about your upcoming projects.
AH: I have finished a vampire novel
full of blood and glitter, now being tested by beta readers. If everything goes
as planned, it will be launched after summer. If published by a company or myself
(in that case, it would be on Lektu), that remains to be determined. Besides, during
this quarantine period I am back to another unfinished novel; it deals with
criminal investigation and investigative journalism on serial murders in a
small town where corruption is king. I hope that the draft will be completed
this month or the next one. Also during this confinement I have finalized the
script for a web series, and the filming could start this year. I keep managing
my two blogs as well: Armado de impaciencia and Gayumbos Ezine.
And I will continue to upload unpublished material on Lektu.
[3] New online marketplace for selling digital
(mainly e-books) and physical products with the aim of becoming a meeting point
for the rights of authors, publishers, and readers.
[4] Original title: Las
edades de Lulú, 1989. Grandes’s first published novel, astonishingly
successful back then, is a highly-praised erotic narration about a woman’s
sexual awakening. A homonymous film based on the book was released the next
year.
[5] Spanish LGBT-themed monthly publication,
extremely popular during the first decade of 2000s, which served as a suitable
platform for coming out nationwide. The cover boys? From show business celebrities
to priests and soldiers; quite a stink in certain circles.
