In Vino
By Alexis Hall
I
have forever been exceedingly fond (oscillating, yes, unfortunate isn’t it) of
the HEA, a balm to my somewhat jaded – consciousness or soul, or whatever it is
we call it these days that maintain some inkling of political correctness
(which I’m still on the fence about, though more on the falling side of things
than anything else). Jasper’s story, as we were fairly warned is not even a
HFN, unless we take the new brevity given by the author to heart. That said I’m
starting to think Alexis Hall can do no wrong.
Because
seriously BDSM sometimes makes me cringe and fan is so far removed from what I
call myself, in fact just the opposite or whatever word equates to an opposite
of fan would be true. On the BDSM front I make an exception for Kim Dare,
Claire Thompson and most definitely “For Real” by Alexis Hall. Still, whatever
pain can be inflicted on the human body—physically or emotionally—Jasper takes
to the nth. Not physically, but Jasper does eviscerate with seemingly banal
words—that power is complicated and complete and feels more so seemingly from
the author than his fictitious creation.
And then
I think of that line from Alexis Hall’s For
Real (“Because once you’ve thought something like that, or said it, all
you’ve done is given yourself something to fail at”) and I know I’m a writer
and not, because I’ve never been published. And most of the hurdles standing in
my way are obstacles of my own creation or imaginary or just an offshoot of the
missing tattoo proclaiming “stupid” I should clearly have had inked to my
forehead. And then I think about these young writers (Alexis Hall, Seth King
and Grace Buchele et al) courageously putting themselves out there and I can
acknowledge how totally I f—ed up waiting for Godot or some other ludicrous notion where those who help themselves is not at the end of
that sentence.
In
Vino, keeps it real, within the scope of life as I know it. Though my personal
preference is the escape, the real is sometimes necessary to balance and check.
Very democratic, though democracy these days is more like a fiction I was
nurtured to believe.
Bad reviews will
inevitably come, but I know this truth I would like to share with you Mr. Hall.
We as a race—human that is—love nothing more than elevating someone to the
stratosphere just so we can tear them down again. But your words are like magic
and I smile or laugh, while Merlin scrapes and bows and nods. In Vino—veritas.
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