Steve Berman's Lair

Yes, I'm single. I've always been single. No, I do not like this at all. I struggle to accept it, so I often write fiction about loneliness. I wonder what having a boyfriend or lover would be like. I guess I will never know.

I currently live in a small apartment in Southern NJ with Daulton, the Lethe Press mascot, a ginger tabby who is 20 yrs old.

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I was born in Philadelphia but moved, with my family, to southern New Jersey when I was five years old. I grew up in the suburbs. I grew up with monsters--the black & white Universal films, the vibrant color movies from Hammer, Harryhausen's stop-motion wonders... then the pages of TSR's Monster Manual.

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I sold my first short story when I was seventeen. Now, that may seem like an incredible accomplishment to some, but these days I hope that very story never sees the light of day. The ending relied on a limerick! A limerick with a bad rhyme scheme! I learned my lesson... although I did write in 2011 a short story musical about homoeroticism in Herman Melville.

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For my undergrad, I went to Tulane University. Why would a New Jersey boy attend college in New Orleans? Actually, while I was there, the majority of the students enrolled were from the East Coast--a quarter of the student body was Jewish! But the real reason is that my parents always wanted to visit New Orleans, so having their youngest at Tulane would be an excuse to visit often.

Originally I was pre-med. Honors biology was interesting. Basic chemistry was not. Especially at 8 a.m. After barely passing that class, I decided to switch my major to English Literature, since I eased through my freshman comp classes. My first submissions to the two years of creative classes were returned to me with a lot of red ink. I think I buried all those stories.

When I was eighteen I was pretty innocent. The only alcohol I ever had before Tulane was Manischewitz, fortified wine, sickly sweet Concord grape, served during Pesach. Louisiana had yet to raise the drinking age, so I could be served at eighteen. My first night at the bar, I indulged to excess and ended up singing along with Blue Oyster Cult on the radio while dancing atop a pool table. Of course, I discovered the downside of drinking moments after returning to my dorm room that very night--vomiting, shudders, and the morning hangover. Needless to say, I learned my lesson and rarely, to this day, tipple.

I was still in the closet during my undergrad and tread a difficult line; I joined a fraternity, Zeta Psi, because of a crush on a roommate. I kissed my first man in New Orleans. I lost my virginity there. And I had my heart broken when the object of my desire died in a car accident.

My short stories & essays set in or influenced by New Orleans:

• "Of Grey Men & Lost Arcana" © 1991 can be found in Silver Web issue 7
• "Coming Out 101: Final Exam" © 1998 and found in Love, Bourbon Street: A Celebration of New Orleans
• "Path of Corruption" © 1998 and found in Trysts, Raging Horrormones, and Alleys & Doorways
• "Vespers" © 2001 and found in Trysts and Freakatotic, issue 9.

• "Always Listen to a Good Pair of Underwear" © 2007 can be found in His Underwear and Second Thoughts (my roommate, who I had the crush on, would often loaf about the apartment in only boxers).

I visit New Orleans often, usually to attend the Saints & Sinners Literary Festival, which celebrates queer writing. I've bought a few voodoo dolls there. So far, none have worked.

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 In the mid- and late 90's, I wrote many articles for various roleplaying magazines and companies.