Risk As Self-Love

con Edgar Gomez author of 'High-Risk Homosexual: A Memoir'

#NuevasPaginasconLupita is a space that is both an archive and resource aimed to "spotlight" Hispanic/Latinx/e authors with newly published books. The goal is to connect readers to new and/or old favorite Hispanic/Latinx/e authors and their books! So give this & every post a share to help us reach more readers!

How does it work?!

Here’s the deal, I came up with a set of casual/random/funny questions to ask each Hispanic/Latinx/e author I interview. For now, the questions will all be the same but maybe in the future I’ll launch this into more specific questions to the author or maybe I’ll turn this series into a mini-podcast or maybe……well, you get it! The possibilities are endless.

If you are new here don’t forget to check out all the other amazing interviews! We also have a really great line-up of guest authors coming up so make sure you don’t miss an interview by subscribing now!

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Hey Heyyy Book Franz!

Last month I had the opportunity to talk to Today.com about a few of my most anticipated Latinx/e books being published this year. It was really hard to just highlight a few because we have so many amazing titles coming out this year that I can’t wait to read!! Believe me when I say - it is going to be such a good year for reading. How do I know this? Because I have already started (and finished :( boohoo) reading a few of the titles I mentioned in the Today piece.

One of those titles is High-Risk Homosexual by Edgar Gomez, who is today’s special guest author!!!! I know, I typically don’t take up to much of your time and let you get to the interview immediately, however today I need to make an exception because I read High-Risk Homosexual a few weeks ago and haven’t stopped thinking about it. It’s one of those books that makes me believe in the power of telling our stories. I say this because I often stop myself from writing into memories that return to me, things I want to share with others. I know a lot of that has to do with fear/doubts and self-worth, which is why when reading Edgar Gomez's coming-of queer-age account I found myself believing in my own self-worth through his words. I felt connected to the person on the page in ways I’ve only yearned for when trying to write about myself and my lived experiences.

Before I get more emotional about this memoir - the amazing folks at Soft Skull Press publisher heard about my love for this memoir and agreed to co-host a FREE BOOK GIVEAWAY with me! I always say that if I were to win the lottery one of the things I’d do is stand on the corner of a busy street and give away copies of my favorite books. This would be one of them and for that reason, I am so glad I get to share this book with you all.

If you want to win a FREE copy of the book (I have FIVE copies to give away!!!) all you have to do is the following: comment that you are interested and would like to be entered below (one comment/entry per person). It’s that simple :) however, if you want to increase your chances of winning a copy - share this interview by either forwarding the email to a friend or on social media (Instagram, Facebook, TikTok - basically wherever you social media!) Once you’ve done that add a second comment below to let me know you’ve shared the interview as well. 

I have gone on for too long! I hope you enjoy this interview and I hope you win a copy of this book <3

Could you tell me a bit about where this photo was taken? Is it special to your book in some way?

This photo was taken in Jackson Heights, Queens, near where I live. Jackson Heights in general means a lot to me. When the pandemic began, like many people across the country, I was depressed and lonely. One day, my friend—an immigration attorney who already lived in Queens—asked me if I wanted to be her roommate. She said I would love Jackson Heights, that there’s a magic to this place that I needed to experience for myself, and she was right.

Immediately I felt embraced by the community, which consists mostly of immigrants from all over. A few weeks after I moved in, I started volunteering at this queer food pantry run out of a local gay bar and for a trans beauty school cooperative and met so many people who’ve become a major part of my life. They kept me going in the final stages of writing my book. During one of the bleakest periods of my life, they brought me joy. This picture specifically was taken on the corner of 83rd street and Lorena Borjas Way. Lorena Borjas was a Mexican-American transgender activist and all-around icon who lived in the neighborhood. Sadly, Lorena passed away in 2020, but she will always be remembered as the mother of the trans-Latinx community around here. 

Tell me about your book without telling me about your book - share any literary inspirations behind your book! If there are none, the gap you wanted to fill in the literary canon with your book.

I wanted to write about being gay with the sense of humor that Josh Kilmer-Purcell used in I Am Not Myself These Days and about being Latinx with the vulnerability and deep respect for the Latin American immigrant community that Rigoberto González showed in Butterfly Boy. Those were two of my biggest inspirations.

One gap that I sought out to fill is the lack of queer literature featuring Central Americans, specifically Nicaraguans. I remember when I was younger, whenever I would simply see the word “Nicaragua” in a newspaper or a textbook, I’d get chills. Usually, it wasn’t more than one line, and about war or famine at that, and still, it meant so much to me, because it was recognition that my family and people existed and mattered in the world and that our lives were worth remembering. Every time I got to type “Nicaragua” in my incredibly gay book, I thought about how much it would have meant to me as a queer Nica kid to see one of us living out in the open.

What are two central themes in your book that you connect with the most and why?

Self-love and risk. It took me a long time to realize that risk was self-love, because in order to live my greatest life, I had to risk the life that I was living. I had to risk my relationship to my family, my friendships, my safety, my sanity. I think about this a lot, because for a lot of people—for a lot of DL queer folk—it’s not worth the risk, and so I often ask myself, almost with awe, “What is it that made you gamble everything? Why did you think it’d be worth it?” For me, the answer is that I was deeply unhappy. I reached a point where I wasn’t living; I was just surviving. I knew if I didn’t make a drastic change, something terrible would happen. And I also had this miraculous encounter with a group of trans women in Nicaragua as a kid. I won’t give it all away, but seeing them laughing and having fun together just made me think, Damn. I know it’s risky, but I want that. Whatever it costs. 

If a book was home, where would your home be?

I used to go to this gay club in Orlando called Parliament House that had its own motel on property. It was sketchy in the best way, the kind of place that when I had a lot of shame around being gay I hoped no one associated me with, though I secretly loved it there. When I was a teenager, I fantasized about living in one of the rooms. I write about that in the book. The club had a restaurant and a pool and a bunch of other things, so it wouldn’t have been impossible, and recently I saw a documentary about Parliament House and found out that in the 80s, some employees actually did live there. So I’d say a Parliament House motel room. 

If your book was a famous musician who would it be?

Ivy Queen. I love how gutsy and unapologetic she is, how she never let anyone tell her no. Especially when she was coming up, she always put herself in scary situations because she understood that facing her fears was the only way to conquer them. And I appreciate that she is someone who cites her sources. That’s something I hope my book does. I didn’t get to where I am now on my own. I got here because of the courageous queer people who fought for their rights before me, people like the trans women at Compton’s Cafeteria. 

What comfort food could a reader pair with your book?

A classic Nicaraguan fritanga plate: gallo pinto, queso frito, carne asada, and tajadas. It’s the perfect meal. Or if we wanna go Puerto Rican, some arroz mamposteao and mofongo with mayoketchup. 

In what ways has access (or little to no access) to Hispanic/Latinx/e literature defined you as a writer?

Initially, because I didn’t see myself reflected in literature often, I had to project myself into whatever queer literature I had access to, which was mostly David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs because they were the big names when I was growing up. They’re great, but they’re also wealthy and white and cis. I’d always end up comparing my life to theirs and feeling really inadequate because their stories looked so differently to mine. It wasn’t until graduate school that I saw someone who vaguely reminded me of myself in a book, and that was Rigoberto González in his memoir Butterfly Boy. That really changed the game for me, because until I read that I was trying to mimic Sedaris and Burroughs, thinking that was the only way I’d ever get published. But here was this other successful writer doing something else. 

I’m still searching for more nonbinary, Latinx memoirists. Fortunately, I have a large community of nonbinary, Latinx friends, so I don’t need to see them in a book as much as I did when I was younger and closeted and literature was the only way for me to safely explore my queerness. But I know there are other young people who do. I’m not sure whether they identify as nonbinary, but I am really excited for Brown Neon by Raquel Gutiérrez, which comes out in June. 

Where can readers keep up with your work?

I’m @OtroEdgarGomez across social media, and I update my website EdgarGomez.net regularly with my latest work. 

A huge thank you to Edgar Gomez for taking the time to chat with me about their work! Please please make sure you purchase a copy (or request your local library carry a copy) of their book #SupportLatinxLit!

Bio for Edgar Gomez from their website:

Edgar Gomez (he/she/they) is a Florida-born writer with roots in Nicaragua and Puerto Rico. A graduate of University of California, Riverside’s MFA program, he is a recipient of the 2019 Marcia McQuern Award for nonfiction. His words have appeared in Poets & Writers, Narratively, Catapult, Lithub, The Rumpus, Electric Lit, Plus Magazine, and elsewhere online and in print. His memoir, High-Risk Homosexual, was called a “breath of fresh air” by The New York Times. He lives in New York and Puerto Rico. Find him or her or them across social media @OtroEdgarGomez.

Synopsis for High-Risk Homosexual from Edgar Gomez’s website:

A debut memoir about coming of age as a gay, Latinx man, High-Risk Homosexual opens in the ultimate anti-gay space: Gomez’s uncle’s cockfighting ring in Nicaragua, where he was sent at thirteen years old to become a man. Readers follow Gomez through the queer spaces where he learned to love being gay and Latinx, including Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, a drag queen convention in Los Angeles, and the doctor’s office where he was diagnosed a “high-risk homosexual.”

With vulnerability, humor, and quick-witted insights into racial, sexual, familial, and professional power dynamics, Gomez shares a hard-won path to taking pride in the parts of himself he was taught to keep hidden. His story is a scintillating, beautiful reminder of the importance of leaving space for joy.

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• Leave a review for their books on any website that sells books

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