Yaoi Books’ Blog

The last time I wrote about the ghosts.  This really happened too.  One day I heard that a building was slated to be gutted on campus.  This building served as a storage facility for the Department of Anthropology, and some storage from Geology.  I saw the workers carrying boxes to the dumpster, and one broke open.  Out poured a bunch of pottery shards.  I picked one up, and immediately recognized the pre-Columbian designs.  They were throwing away valuable relics!  I called the Anthropology people and reported this.  They said they knew, but because the pieces had been in storage for so long, the notes on their provenance (source, etc.) had been lost.  They said I could take anything that was slated for discarding.  So I bravely ordered the workers to stop throwing the stuff away until after I examined it.  They had other work to do, so they left.  I was alone with my treasures.  There were no lights, as the building was being gutted.  I had only my flashlight.  It was musty in that catacomb-like basement, and as a medium, I could hear whispers from all sides.  Most of the spirits were curious, but some were hostile.  I girded my loins, and despite my fears, I entered.  Shadows played on the walls, where the elongated faces of specters looked down on me.  I offered them my apologies and explained that they were to be thrown away, and that I had come to save them from these indignities.  I was guided by an unseen hand to a large cardboard box whose contents had exploded all over the floor, probably while the workers tried to move it.  The box was exceedingly moldy.   

I heard a series of clucking, whistles, and fart-like noises coming from the bottom of the pile.  I am deathly allergic to mold, but I had to see what it was.  At first, most of the pieces were broken pottery shards; some with wonderful pre-Columbian designs.  Then toward the bottom I found some pieces wrapped in molded papers.  Some writing was visible.  One package held a small clay head of a man in the typical pre-Columbian design.  He was neatly wrapped with what I clearly recognized as a clay penis, however ornate.  The sounds came from him.  The note he was wrapped in read, “Dear God, please save me.”  As I unwrapped other strange body parts, similar notes appeared.  The ghost spoke in my head.  “That was Stephanie, a man who killed himself.”  I guess the ghost didn’t know it was a girl name.  He said, “Stephanie loved me so much …” etc.  I had the vision that this Stephanie had actually killed his/herself because of the ghost.  I kept it after all.  I also found lovely female torsos, many breasts, and beastly forms.  They were all so lovely.  When I brought all of this home (it filled my pickup truck twice), I thought, ok, one more ghost – but little did I know … 

Incidentally, after this, whenever go on business trips, the pre-Columbian ghosts come too.  I always wondered how they did this until I noticed that a small piece of pottery would always be found in my luggage or even in my wallet.  The ghost, whose name I will refrain from mentioning, told me that all the broken pottery was from his wives.  He claimed that they broke pottery after every meal, just for his amusement.  I really don’t believe everything he says, but he does have power.  He once killed a baby bunny I loved because he was jealous.  Luckily, he isn’t violent that often. 

Every night he won’t stop with his hissing and clucking until I perform an exorcism (Buddhist).  I am used to it, so it doesn’t take long, but it delays me and I have to schedule fifteen minutes each night for it.  He is angry at me because he loved Yuis, from my book Taino Ti.  He keeps crying each night, “Yuisa is not a mang!  He is a womang!”  (Mang is his way of saying ‘man.’)  I tell him, “Yes, he was a man, and his name is Yuis, not Yuisa, and he has a dick!  So there!”  He is serious in love; and in the closet as well.  I came out of the closet a long time ago, but I realize that in his culture, although homosexuality was common, the “bottom” would always cross-dress; well, at least that’s what he says, and they acted like women.  That way, they actually were women.   

To be fair, I have to admit that I don’t write everything I publish under my name.  Sometimes I take notes for the various ghosts and spirits.  The deal is that they get their stories told.  I think that is fair.  I mean, nobody is going to accept a story from, say, a fat, balding Italian middle-aged guy who died in 1936 when he fell off a fire-escape in New York City as he flashed a woman walking by! Yet he did have a few interesting stories.  .   

Yaoi is one of the best things that has hit the US from Japan. For those not familiar with it, Yaoi is a genre originating in Japan. It had its beginnings in manga, Japanese comics, and in anime. It is very difficult to explain what Yaoi really is, and perhaps only its fans can really appreciate it. Yaoi is about the love between idealized boys. It explores the beauty of these relationships and their development. It is important to point out; however, that Yaoi is very different from the m x m genre of writing. There is a deeper romantic element involved. Perhaps this is one factor that makes it especially attractive to women.
For me, Yaoi is an outlet for my creativity. I am an artist and author, but my main problem was finding suitable material for my work. As for art, I have indulged in painting scenes from obscure myths, but now I paint many “boys in love” scenes. I love to paint their soft faces and expressive eyes. My challenge now is to learn digital art, so that I can produce book covers. I am learning PainterX and PhotoShop. As for writing, I love writing, but conventional stories don’t attract me. Another vexing problem is that most stories are expected to have some romance, even horror stories. Before Yaoi, I tried to write heterosexual scenes, but they were awkward and maybe even a bit twisted. I am not a hetero, so how could I write something I found unattractive?
My Yaoi is really different from most gay material I have read. The characters become committed couples, and they are very tender and romantically involved. There are so many elements I love about Yaoi. There is sexual tension, but it is devoid of the man vs. woman problems that so annoyed me in romance novels. Somehow it seemed that men could be real asses, and women still loved them. In Yaoi, this can happen, but not in my Yaoi. My characters can have misunderstandings, but because they are both men, they don’t take shit from their mates.
Yaoi boys have names indicating their roles. There is the Seme, a Japanese word indicating the person who initiates an attack in the martial arts. He is the “top.” The Uke, the “bottom,” is from the word meaning “one who receives the attack.” In Yaoi, these roles aren’t reversed, generally. The Seme is usually bigger or older, but this isn’t always the case. In the manga “Jazz,” the Seme is the younger man; however, he is more assertive.
Yaoi novels are rare compared to conventional manga. I was always left longing for more after reading manga. There was so much more to a story, I thought, so I decided to write my own. Please see my novels at www.extasybooks.com or go to our site at www.yaoi-books.com
Is anyone considering writing Yaoi? Does anyone have suggestions for new novels? Let’s talk!

Today my third Yaoi Novel has been published!
KB Forrest