About The Far Away Years
by LF Blake
268 pages / 94000 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-335-2, 1-60370-335-7
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Danny and Jeff have never had an easy relationship. Danny admits early on that he wants Jeff, maybe even loves him, but all Jeff wants is a normal life, at least as normal as a rock star can have. Over the years, the two of them will come together and drift apart, as Danny spirals deeper into depression over what he feels is an unrequited love.
Jeff has his ownreasons for pushing Danny away, but when he finally decides to take life by the horns and find Danny again, it might be too late. Can Jeff and Danny find a wayto put their past behind them, and build a future as bright as the prospects of their new band?
Review
Syd McGinley, author of the Dr. Fell stories, writes:
New York 1977: Drunk one night, singer Daniel Chandler persuades guitarist Jeffrey Cruz to come and jam with him. “Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with?” asked The Buzzcocks in 1978 -- and Danny would certainly have answered yes. He’s broken one of his own rules: “Don’t fall in love with your best friend.”
Talking ‘bout my generation! What a treat this was to read. Blake’s men are my contemporaries and seeing them struggle in the late seventies and early eighties was a true reminder of how hard it was then to be gay. It may not be easy now, but twenty years makes a big difference. Kudos to Blake for recreating the feel of the times without major info dumps.
I was absolutely absorbed by this story – not just for the reminiscing aspect! – but for the emotional ups and downs that Danny and Jeff go through as they struggle with becoming famous and with their feelings for each other.
All the characters, however minor, felt real and all had their motivations for acting as they did. As a result, even when I disliked a character (and there were several thoroughly deserving of dislike!), and disapproved of their actions, I still understood why they acted as they did.
The story is full of rich, but not overdone, details, and I could clearly see the characters and their surroundings without being hit over the head with descriptive passages, and the emotions were likewise intense without being broadcast. Danny and Jeff’s struggles were sometimes erotic and sometimes visceral, but they were always realistic. By the end, I was rooting aloud for them.
Sample
Daniel Chandler lived his life by three rules:
Don’t steal from someone with less than you.
Don’t pass up a chance to steal from someone who has more than you.
Don’t fall in love with your best friend.
For twenty-two years, Danny had fought the good fight and lived by his few principles. Tonight, he admitted failure. He had fallen deplorably and miserably in love with his best friend and if only Jeff had been in love with him, too, it might have been all right. But Jeff had no clue.
He sighed and downed the last inch of his beer from its dusky glass. It coated the inside of his mouth with sour warmth, reminding him he’d been nursing it too long. He might get another drink later, but for now the view across the bar held him riveted.
Trudy’s Bar was packed with its typical Friday night crowd. Boys and girls in bright spandex stood along the bar, tapping painted nails on the polished wood and leaving smears of lipstick on their glasses. Their hair was teased up wildly, and glitter arced over their eyes in colorful streaks. A cluster of girls gathered by the jukebox, and its running lights cast crazy shadows across their faces. A few couples found enough space to dance without bumping into the booths that lined the walls of the narrow room. They swayed to the sound of David Bowie’s voice as he sang about a star man waiting in the skies.
At the bar, Jeffrey Cruz neither glittered nor swayed.
Danny hunched over the table of his booth and watched.
Perched on a barstool, Jeff gripped the counter with one hand and fended off his wife with the other. Lani clung to his wrist and pulled.
“Jeff, come on!” Her wave of blond hair swung around her petite face as she pouted, and her voice cut through the clamor of song and laughter. “Stop being a baby and dance with me.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head, offering her a crooked smile before his black hair fell around his face.
Danny traced a finger over the lip of his glass. He had seen Jeff dance with Lani at their wedding, and he’d be happy never to see it again. No matter how gracefully Jeff’s fingers moved over the strings of his guitar, he danced like a newborn colt. His feet went one way while his knees turned another, and more often than not, the combination sent him sprawling.
Lani didn’t care. The jukebox had switched over to a Beatles song, and she wanted to dance. She shook her head and stalked away to cajole Jake, the band’s new drummer, into taking Jeff’s place. Jake would do it. Like the rest of Far Cry, he already knew the consequences of incurring Lani’s wrath.
Jeff stared after Lani for a few seconds, then turned back to his glass before motioning the bartender for a refill. Scotch, Danny knew. It was always scotch when he was unhappy, like the night Danny met him two years ago. Danny could sympathize. It hadn’t been his best night either.