Writing

“Holding his queer community, his country, but mostly himself up for scrutiny, Bob Ostertag achieves the rare feat of balancing attraction and revulsion in such perfect equilibrium that rather than giving us answers, he poses ramifying ethical conundrums. Once upon a time, I’m told, they would douse an infected wound in live maggots. The maggots would eat dead flesh thereby promoting healing. Bob Ostertag is a similar sort of creature, and his stomach for America’s putrefaction is awe-inspiring. But, unlike insects, he’s not only fully aware of, and sickened by, what he’s ingesting, he is also fascinated, even attracted, to it. Addicted to truth-telling, he plays with his food in lean elegant prose at once stupefying and searing. And reading him, we become that rare jury that stands implicated in the crime.”

– Jonathan D. Katz, Senior Fellow, Smithsonian American Art Museum

“Like so much sand – men and the memories they ignite can slip through one’s recollection all too easily. But with this unbendable straightforward collection Ostertag has cast a wide net on the moments and memories of these charged liaisons and pulled them to back to shore. An introspectively bare bones account of both love, lust, and a life bravely lived.”

– Brontez Purnell, author of 100 Boyfriends and Ten Bridges I’ve Burnt