From today's New York Times: Figure in JT Leroy Case Says Partner Is Culprit

Figure in JT Leroy Case Says Partner Is Culprit

By WARREN ST. JOHN
Published: February 7, 2006

A central figure in the case of the mysterious writer JT Leroy has come forward to say that no one named JT Leroy exists, and that the books published under that name were actually written by a San Francisco woman named Laura Albert.

Geoffrey Knoop, Ms. Albert's partner for the last 16 years, said in a telephone interview on Saturday evening that he had seen Ms. Albert write the books of JT Leroy in their San Francisco apartment. He added that for much of the last decade, he had been present when Ms. Albert conducted telephone conversations as JT Leroy with unwitting editors, writers and celebrities, using the voice of a young man with a West Virginia accent. Ms. Albert, 40, is originally from Brooklyn.

"The jig is up," said Mr. Knoop, 39, a rock musician. "I do want to apologize to people who were hurt," he added. "It got to a level I didn't expect."

More:

Figure in JT Leroy Case Says Partner Is Culprit - New York Times

A few things:

If you heard Knoop play, you know that "rock musician" is used charitably in the above piece. Laura/JT sent me a number of Thistle's mp3s in the hopes that I would write about the band for Paste. The songs don't suck, but they dissipate and I didn't bother saving them.

Laura is unquestionably a sociopath, but she can write. Knoop, on the other hand, is a banal and semi-talented eunuch. I'm amused that he's apologizing: what difference does he expect it to make?

The rest of us will bounce back, but my heart aches for the eight year old boy who calls these cretins "Mom and Dad". And pity the family law judge who has to decide which one gets custody.

Non-sequitur day:

1) I'll never understand what prompts one person--irrespective of circumstances--to dive in and embrace life while the other fucking cowers on the sand.

2) Indie kids: I love you, but those bangs are played out.

Wendy Wasserstein 1940-2006:

Good night and god bless:

Entertainment Weekly's EW.com | Feature: Remembering Wendy Wasserstein

The Black Table 2003-2006:

As has been noted everywhere from New York Mag to Gawker, The Black Table ceased production this week.

This makes me ineffably sad because I loved BT as much as my John Fluevogs. The editors were smart and funny and encouraged you to wax rhapsodic about, say, the guy who had a seizure while inside you (ahem). They ran my work six times and I'm delighted and *choked up* (rim shot!) to be included in the final installment of "Waxing Off". I raise my iced soy mocha to you, Black Table: you left the world a little happier, a little filthier, and we're all the better for it:

WAXING OFF: COME BACK! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO GOT AWAY.

I have a tale that just might work:

I had another story accepted to the (awesome) Seattle story-telling salon, A Guide to Visitors. The show starts at 7:30 tonight at the Rendevous and this month's theme is "They Thought They Knew But Had No Idea". Details:

A Guide To Visitors

And soon:

I've now read a couple dozen articles and blog entries re Laura/JT, and unsurprisingly, those of us who received the suicide calls, i.e. "I've been cutting myself and want to die" are considerably angrier, less forgiving, and more hurt. Many have speculated as to Laura's mental health and several have concluded that it's impaired. No kidding. Only a sociopath repeatedly betrays her friends, lies to her editors, and tricks her readers and fans. All the while extracting sympathy for purported suicidal ideation.

But maybe this last part wasn't an act. Maybe Laura really wishes she were dead. She didn't get to be a rock star, nor an author in her own right. May fate grant her this one.

"And it rained like a slow divorce..."--"Balloon Man", Robyn Hitchcock

The rain hasn't stopped all week, literally or metaphorically. Bad news arrived on a number of fronts, but I'm comforted by the fact that this is a pinprick compared to the disemboweling that was the earlier part of this decade.

And Death Cab is going to be on "Saturday Night Live" tonight. Yea for talented artists who actually exist. Yea!

From today's San Francisco Chronicle: New clues in mystery story of elusive author JT LeRoy

New clues in mystery story of elusive author JT LeRoy

Excerpt:

"Author Armistead Maupin, whose novel 'The Night Listener' was based on his experience with a literary pretender, has strong feelings on the subject.

'A lot of people argue that such frauds cause no harm and are a great joke played on the literary establishment,' he said by telephone Monday.

'But in fact there's something very callous about using AIDS and an abusive childhood as a way of getting sympathy and support,' Maupin said, adding, 'I'm surprised that people were bamboozled as long as they were.'"

Maupin nails the fraud's insidiousness. Here's an email "JT" sent me before the New York Magazine story broke. I'd never post private correspondence in a public forum, but the sender doesn't exist, so no ethical line is broached. However, I've blacked out the names of the other two recipients:

----- Original Message -----
From: JT Leroy
To: XXXX ; Litsa Dremousis ; XXXX
Sent: Saturday, October 08, 2005 4:34 AM
Subject: Re: Gawker

Please the BEST thing we can do is hit them back! We cant just sit and let them smack at us. I did that as a child, and I wont do it now. This is fueled by jealous cruelty. Please post... back. Bet this person wrote this never read a word of mine... hit back... never thought I'd advocate that... but I am... mannnn....
With love and sadness, jt

Keep in mind that "JT" knew I'd worked as a domestic violence victim advocate, that I'd volunteered for the King County Crisis Clinic and for Northwest Women's Law Center, and that my mom had prosecuted crimes against children. I didn't believe "JT"'s stories of abuse because I'm naive, but because I've worked with abuse survivors. And as everyone who has worked w/ abuse survivors knows, they're often disbelieved when they come forward. And now abuse has been falsely purported in order to gain notoriety and sympathy.

The books remain very good, but a noxious cloud swirls around their creator.

The abuse of goodwill is obscene:

I ended my friendship with the person I'd known as JT LeRoy today. Sunday's New York Times piece was the final straw:

The Unmasking of JT Leroy: In Public, He's a She - New York Times

For the past few months, I'd been convinced he was a she and had privately conveyed this to a few friends and family members. However, at no point did I question that the person I'd befriended was the author of "Harold's End", "Sarah", and "The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things", three books I will always love. I didn't believe someone "played" JT in public, nor did I believe someone else wrote the work. I thought my friend was deeply troubled as a result of sustained abuse, but I believed her writings were her own. I remained loyal and when she asked me to write letters on her behalf, I did, because I believed we were, in fact, friends.

We spoke on the phone today for roughly ten minutes and at no point did she conclusively answer any of my specific questions. I made it emphatically clear that I didn't believe her anymore, that I was hurt and disgusted, and that I was unambiguously ending our friendship. Then I hung up.

Undoubtedly, I'll write more about this later.

And those who misspell "Litsa" are doomed unto eternity:

This kid will incur permanent acid reflux if he reads The Believer interview with JR. If I'm going to be branded a heretic, I'm honored that it's alongside Mr. Gibbard:

Souls of Rock: Death Cab for Cutie - I Will Follow You Into the Dark

As good of a way as any to start the new year:

CNN.com - Have scientists found Mozart's skull? - Jan 3, 2006

Though "Grab Her Twat" and "Dad's Anal Adventure" would have been worse:

I've noted before that, thanks to my Black Table pieces, my name has been inadvertantly (and often humorously) linked to a number of porn sites. However, in light of today's additions, Grab Her Boob and Mom's Anal Adventure, it's worth reiterating that, no, I don't write porn and if I choose to, I'll certainly come up w/ something more erotically charged and less hurl-inducing than playground-level groping and persons' moms taking it up the ass.

Two recent faves from McSweeney's not written by me or anyone I know:

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: I Don't Know What the Big Deal About Having a Baby Is.

McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Bruce Springsteen Songs, If the Title More Accurately Reflected the Subject Matter.

When words are both essential and meaningless:

From CNN.com:

Koinange: Hospital scene like 'hell on earth'

African nation of Malawi battered by AIDS, drought

By Jeff Koinange
CNN

Thursday, December 1, 2005; Posted: 3:46 p.m. EST (20:46 GMT)

Editor's note: In our Behind the Scenes series, CNN correspondents share their experiences covering news.
Jeff Koinange, CNN Africa correspondent, in Malawi.

BLANTYRE, Malawi (CNN) -- Walking into the highly restricted tuberculosis ward of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Malawi's second city of Blantyre is a lesson in humility.

To enter, you need to fill out a lot of paperwork letting the hospital know that if anything happens to you, it is not liable. This takes a couple of hours.

Once you're cleared, you get a surgeon's mask and a guide and off you go.

Our team did this recently and entered a scene that's the closest thing we've seen to hell on earth.

In bed after bed, the dead and the dying lie side-by-side. Patients stricken by advanced tuberculosis brought on by AIDS cough uncontrollably while relatives try to comfort them.

More:

CNN.com - Koinange: Hospital scene like 'hell on earth' - Dec 1, 2005

"I spend all my energy staying upright..."--N.S.

My Paste review of Nada Surf's October Seattle show went up last week. I feel compelled to note that "emotard" was changed to "emogeek", "wang" became "dork" and "shake its ass" was altered to "do something besides nod approvingly". (I fucking loved the show. These terms aren't in reference to the band.) Anyhow:

Paste Magazine :: Review :: Nada Surf, Say Hi To Your Mom :: Neumo’s, Seattle 10/19/2005 (Page 1)

From the Times of London: "Man 'cured' of HIV agrees to undergo further clinical tests"

"Man 'cured' of HIV agrees to undergo further clinical tests"
By Sam Lister, Health Correspondent

A YOUNG British man thought to be the first person to have shaken off HIV, the virus that causes Aids, is to undergo further clinical tests in the hope of a breakthrough in treating the condition.

Andrew Stimpson, 25, said yesterday that he was willing to do all he could to help to tackle the condition, after it emerged that his body had apparently rid itself of the human immunodeficiency virus.

Mr Stimpson, a Scot living in London, was found to be HIV-positive in August 2002, but 14 months later a blood test suggested that he no longer carried the virus. A further three tests confirmed the finding.

Doctors believe that this first confirmed case of ?spontaneous clearance? of HIV could offer important insights into the behaviour of the virus, and possible means of defeating it. "

More:

Britain, UK news from The Times and The Sunday Times - Times Online:

Mauling + ice cream + sex = readin':

My short story, "When Bears Attack", is in Rivet #14, "The Union Issue". The story's print version features an awesome graphic from Christopher Hong and the correct line breaks, but if you're short five bucks, you can read it here:

Rivet Magazine: Discover. Inquire. Repeat.

What? Who?

I'm not sure how a feature on Seattle music can viably omit Barsuk and its roster--*bullshit has been called*--but this is a fun piece nonetheless, particularly the part about the (awesome) John Richards:

Seattle Weekly: Music: A Day in the Life

If you need a (temporary) distraction from bird flu news:

My Paste Death Cab cover story is archived online now:

Paste Magazine :: Feature :: Death Cab For Cutie :: The Hardest Working Band in Show BIz (Page 1)

And--bonus!--the print-only Donner Party sidebar. Because eating people is funny:

In the new documentary, "Drive Well, Sleep Carefully", director Justin Mitchell captures Death Cab for Cutie's 2004 tour, during which the band traversed the U.S. in a well-equipped bus. While their offstage antics seem largely comprised of storytelling and shooting hoops, who knows what could happen next time? As Death Cab gets ready to hit the road again in support of their new record, Plans, Paste asked the lads and some of their indie rock co-horts: If a Donner Party type situation arises, who will you eat and why?

I think I'd probably eat Jason. He's definitely the strongest out of the four of us. He has more muscle, and probably more protein, in his body than Chris certainly does, and definitely more than Nick because Jason's taller and bigger than Nick. I'd have to eat Jason.--Ben Gibbard

I don't think any of them would dispute that if both of our bands were lost together, although I would do everything in my power to return us all to safety, in the final analysis I would be picking my teeth with their shinbones when spring came. It's hard to say whom I would eat first, because each of them has a terrible ferocity when cornered. I might let them fight it out amongst themselves at first, and wait until they'd worn each other out. I think that Nick would make the best eating. --John Roderick, The Long Winters

I'd eat Jason because Jason's muscle to fat ratio is the best.--Chris Walla

I guess I have to agree that Jason would be the last one standing. If it were up to me to decide which band member to eat first, I would volunteer myself, so that the band might have a chance to live on. ---Josh Rosenfeld, Barsuk Records co-founder

Well, I've got a big appetite and Nick's got some good hearty muscle on his bone, so I would choose Nick. Although what if I needed him alive to be on my side? I might have Chris as an appetizer instead.--Jason McGerr

I would eat whoever died of natural causes first because I couldn't kill anyone to eat them. I'm pretty sure Ben would be one of the first to go and then we'd have to eat Ben. Ben would be pretty juicy. Surviving that long requires a certain level of dedication and patience and I think Ben would be like, "You know what? Screw this whole thing. We're already screwed." He wouldn't hang on unnecessarily. I think Chris would make a very lean meal, and that's always important, so if I were watching my figure, I'd go for a leg of Chris. If I were going for really tasty, I'd go for Ben. Jason would be good, too, but I don't think he would die early on. I think Jason would be the guy who would eat us all. He would be the last man standing. He's kind of the survivor that way.--Nick Harmer

Not Walla, definitely, because you wouldn't get very far eating him. I think it would be between Ben or Nick. I think Ben would have more of a chicken flavor, whereas if you were in the mood for something like lamb, something a little more rich, Nick would be your man. So, it depends on what sort of curry you wanted to serve, chicken or lamb.--Colin Meloy, The Decemberists

Great moments in bad editing:

Here's the letter I wrote to New York Magazine:

I've interviewed JT LeRoy twice, once for Bookslut and once for Poets and
Writers. Over the past two years, we've become good friends, exchanging
hundreds of emails, blowing several hours on the phone, and spending time in person. (Note: I attended the Deitch Gallery launch for "Harold's End" last November. Your photographer, Danielle Levitt, took some test Polaroids of me, a curly-haired woman in a pink boucle coat.)

The truth is far more banal than Stephen Beachy's turgid story alleges. JT writes his own work. On numerous occasions, he's called or emailed
throughout the day with sequential drafts of stories or articles on which
he's working. He has a predilection for animated e-cards, only burns soy
candles, and loves my mom's baklava. And I've met Emily: she and JT sound
nothing alike.

In order for JT to be a hoax, he would have had to fool Vanity Fair (the
U.S. and British versions), the New York Times, BlackBook, Interview, Paper, Index, I-D, Spin, 7 X 7, Viking Press, Bloomsbury Press, Last Gasp Books, Zoetrope, Dave Eggers, Vendela Vida, Bono, Zadie Smith, Gus Van Sant, Madonna, Tom Waits, Lou Reed, Arthur Bradford, Mary Karr, Carrie Fisher, Yoko Ono, Jerry Harrison and my mom and me, among others. (Perhaps you can fool Madonna, but you can't fool my mom.)

Also, he would have to had raise several thousand dollars over the years for Dr. Terrence Owens' McAuley Institute at St. Mary's Hospital, *spontaneously and for no apparent reason.* And anyone who knows JT well knows he could never pull off a hoax. He's erudite and silly and probably a genius, but I once spent five minutes on the phone with him while he looked for stamps. He could never perpetuate fraud--not only because he's moral--but because he's totally unorganized.

Sincerely,

Litsa Dremousis
Seattle,WA

Here's what New York Mag ran this week:

http://newyorkmetro.com/nymag/letters/14960/index1.html

The Real LeRoy
Over the past two years, I’ve become friends with JT [“Who is the Real JT
LeRoy?” by Stephen Beachy, October 17]. He has a predilection for animated e-cards, burns only soy candles, and loves baklava. To be a hoax, he would’ve had to fool Vanity Fair, the New York Times, BlackBook, Interview, Paper, Index, I-D, Spin, 7X7, Viking Press, Bloomsbury Press, Last Gasp, Zoetrope, Dave Eggers, Bono, Zadie Smith, Gus Van Sant, Tom Waits, Lou Reed, Arthur Bradford, Mary Karr, Carrie Fisher, Jerry Harrison, Madonna, me, and my mom. And anyway, JT could never perpetuate fraud—he’s totally disorganized.
—Litsa Dremousis, Seattle, Wash.

A New York Mag fact-checker called three times over two weeks to verify everything, and I was told twice that my "letter [was] probably going to run". I never would have agreed to let them print it, though, if I'd known they were going to alter its tone. I know they can edit for clarity, but they changed the thing's intent. The edited version is poorly written and sounds like I'm taking a swipe at JT, which I'm not doing. Obviously.

Regardless, I hope everyone is done with this inane topic. I know I am.