Paul Rudnick

Here’s the video of the illustrious William Ivey Long’s
category on Jeopardy, from last night.

And here’s an additional look at William’s
Tony Award-winning work, from Cinderella:

The glorious paperback of Gorgeous, my Young Adult novel, is now available everywhere! While the book is YA, it’s also suitable for New Adults, Old Adults and even the most Delightfully Ancient Adults!

Libba Bray, in the New York Times, called the book “Gleefully wacky and irreverent” and “A wicked good time”, while the Boston Globe said that it’s “A satire as sharp as a stiletto heel that takes on celebrity culture, the fashion industry, consumerism and princess stories. Oh, and it’s wickedly hilarious.” In a starred review, Publishers Weekly said “With writing that’s hilarious, profane and profound (often within a single sentence) Rudnick casts a knowing eye on our obsession with fame, brand names and royalty to create a feel-good story about getting what you want without letting beauty blind you to what’s real.”

Three members of true writer royalty have also offered their wildly generous thoughts. Meg Cabot, the bestselling author of The Princess Diaries, said “When I wasn’t laughing out loud (which was often), I was wiping away a tiny tear.” Melissa De La Cruz, author of the hugely successful Blue Bloods series, said “Paul Rudnick’s generous, open heart, scathing wit, encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture and droll humor are all in force in his latest creation, Gorgeous, which is aptly named. I absolutely adored this book and snort-laughed through the entire thing. You will too.” Jane Hamilton, who wrote the amazing A Map of the World, said, “Reader Advisory: because you will split a gut laughing out loud, best to locate an Emergency Room in your area before you begin reading. I wish Gorgeous was my wallpaper; I wish this pure joy was Surround Sound; I wish this deliciousness was a drink. I wish Paul Rudnick was the President, the Pope and the Surgeon General. What a gorgeous place the world would be!”

I am so grateful to all of these writers, and most especially, I would like to take this occasion to again thank the extraordinary folks at Scholastic, including Lori Benton, Ellie Berger, Stacy Lellos. Bess Braswell, Leslie Garych, Sheila Marie Everett, Tracy Van Straaten, David Levithan, Kelly Ashton, Rachael Hicks, Elizabeth Parisi, Annette Hughes, Elizabeth Whiting, Corrine Van Natta, Alan Smagler, Jacqueline Rubin and everyone in the sales department: Lizette Serrano, Candace Greene, Catherine Sisco and Emily Marrow. Over the past year, I’ve gotten to know and cherish these wonderful people. I could not have felt more welcome – being published by Scholastic has been a writer’s dream, and not just because there’s a really impressive gift shop in the lobby.

With the most overwhelming gratitude, I would like to thank my sublime editor, Rachel Griffiths, and not just for helping me eliminate unnecessary commas. Rachel has been a tireless, irresistible and constant inspiration. A great editor allows a writer to fail and remains helpful and encouraging. A great editor never loses her sense of humor. And a great editor gives a writer the most constructive and illuminating advice, and beyond that, hope. Rachel is truly a great editor. Plus, during the past year, she has managed to give birth to both my book and a new human being, her son Dom. And while I’m not claiming any sort of superiority, between Dom and myself, I’m the only one who’s just been published in paperback.

So please, enjoy Gorgeous in its terrific new form, which also makes a perfect gift, an ideal beach read, and a magnificent accessory. Who won’t look better, if they’re carrying a copy of something called Gorgeous?

1. What if I’m asked to become the new Executive Editor of The New York Times and I can’t think of a polite way to say no?

2. What if I buy the LA Clippers and then I mess things up and people start wishing that Donald Sterling was back?

3. What if I bid $50 million at Sothebys for a Jeff Koons statue of Popeye and then I can’t figure out where to put it? Does it belong with my Disney Princesses chess set or my collection of vintage Josie and the Pussycats salt and pepper shakers?

4. What if I’m introduced to Ann Coulter and she wants a hug?

5. What if because of climate change I’m never sure if I should wear a lightweight jacket or a lightweight jacket over a sweater vest?

6. What if Edward Snowden hacks into my computer and threatens to leak all of my eBay searches?

7. What if I’m alone in the elevator and then Solange Knowles gets on and I just start sobbing?

8. What if as I’m crossing a busy intersection, just as a truck is about to hit me, a cat runs out and drags me to safety with its little paws, but then I realize that the whole thing was a set-up so the cat could get on Youtube? If I call the cat a whore will people think I’m a monster?

This is wonderful news: on this Friday, May 16th, Jeopardy will be devoting a full category to my friend William Ivey Long, the brilliant and now clearly legendary costume designer. It’s the first time Jeopardy has ever allotted a costume designer his own category, and the honor is well deserved. Even if I hadn’t known William since I was in college, I’d still adore both the man and his work. William’s designed well over fifty Broadway shows – I know this because a few years back, I co-hosted, along with Susan Stroman and Wendy Wasserstein, a party to honor William’s fiftieth show. The party was held at Central Park’s boathouse, which William and his completely amazing team decorated for the occasion: in one corner there was a bevy of showgirl mannequins, dripping with pearls and very little else, from The Producers, and over by the windows you’d find a mannequin wearing the daring yet somehow elegant black lace bodysuit which Anita Morris wore in Nine. There were costumes from Guys & Dolls, Hairspray, Chicago, Crazy For You, and so many other glorious shows. William’s just been nominated for yet another Tony Award (I think he’s won six so far) for his breathtaking work on Bullets Over Broadway. He also somehow manages to be an exceedingly kind and generous man, and to never lose his Carolina accent.

William’s also designed ballets, movies, and wedding gowns, and I especially remember his bold designs for a massive Siegfried and Roy spectacular in Las Vegas; these costumes needed to be both gorgeous and durable, since the white tigers in Siegfried and Roy’s show would occasionally pee on them. I’ve written about my friendship with William in my book I Shudder, which now demands to be updated. Bravo, William!

Last night John and I went to a screening of the excellent new HBO screen adaptation of Larry Kramer’s classic play, The Normal Heart. Ryan Murphy directed, with an amazing all-star cast, including Mark Ruffalo, Matt Bomer, Jim Parsons, Taylor Kitsch, and Julia Roberts. The movie has clearly been made with enormous love for the original material and as can be expected, if you’ve ever seen The Normal Heart onstage, the story is completely involving and beyond heartbreaking.

I remember seeing the play in its original production at the Public Theater, in 1985, with Brad Davis playing Ned Weeks, the central, ferociously enraged character based on Larry Kramer; the action centers on the earliest, harrowing days of the AIDS crisis, and the founding of the Gay Mens Health Crisis. At that time, the mainstream media was pretty much refusing to even mention the epidemic, so the play became essential, as a source of not just mesmerizing drama, but sheer information. The set was scrawled with the rising numbers of the infected and the dead, and these numbers were constantly being updated. If you were a gay man, or anyone else, in NYC at that time, you had to see The Normal Heart.

The play has only grown in stature; there was a recent, award-winning revival on Broadway, where Joe Mantello played Ned brilliantly; he plays a supporting role in the HBO version, and he’s equally terrific. The Normal Heart doesn’t just seem like a necessary historical document, which would in itself be an achievement; it’s also a funny, sexy and galvanizing work.

The screening was very glamorous; John and I got there early, and footage from the red carpet was being screened inside the theater. There was a parade of handsome, talented, out gay actors, many with their spouses, including Matt Bomer, Jim Parsons, Jonathan Groff, Stephen Spinella and Denis O’Hare. Assembling this many happily gay stars would have been unthinkable, even a few short years ago. Heterosexuality was equally well represented, by the staggeringly attractive Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie (Pitt is also a producer on the movie.) Brad and Angelina can never break up, because how could either of them do any better?

John has known Larry Kramer for many years. In the movie, there’s a scene where a handful of GMHC volunteers are being ignored as they hand out fliers and ask for donations on the dock at Fire Island; in real life, John had been one of those volunteers. I’ve known Larry for a shorter time, and I’ve always been in awe of him. He’s become legendary, as a writer, a prophet and an activist. He’s also known for his outsize personality. When he came to see my play Jeffrey, I was terrified. But Larry’s response was wonderfully gratifying, because he enjoyed the play and, due to the play’s central romance, between a cater-waiter and an HIV-positive bartender, Larry told me that seeing the play made him want to go on a date.

Larry was at the screening last night, and as Ryan Murphy pointed out, it’s high time that he also appeared on a postage stamp. He’s an extraordinary man.

New Yorkers try excruciatingly hard to be blase about celebrity-sightings. I was once waiting on line for a movie when I saw a guy in a field jacket standing next to a woman wearing a floppy hat. I gestured towards them and told my friend, “Oh look, they think they’re Woody Allen and Diane Keaton.” Then I realized that it was Woody Allen and Diane Keaton.

Scandalous celebrities are another matter entirely. My partner and I were once at a screening, seated just behind Donald Trump and Marla Maples, the beautiful young girl Trump had just married. The couple was surrounded by Trump’s cronies, all of whom looked like Jabba the Hutt with a combover. Marla looked shellshocked, as if she’d just started to realize what she’d gotten herself into.

I once attended a fundraiser, pre-prostitution scandal, for Eliot Spitzer, at someone’s Soho apartment. Everyone there agreed that Silda, Eliot’s wife, was so much smarter and more charismatic than the candidate.

I was at a revival of Lanford Wilson’s play “Burn This” at the Union Square Theatre, and I was seated in the same row as Monica Lewinsky. During intermission, as I squeezed past Ms. Lewinsky, I noticed that she had her shoulderbag carefully positioned between her knees. The shoulderbag was open and inside, also open, was a family-size bag of peanut M&Ms. This made me worship her.

In case you’ve somehow missed it, here’s the video of football player Michael Sam finding out
that he’s been drafted by the St. Louis Rams, and then kissing his boyfriend. The couple
then happily shove cake into each others’ faces.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvY7KNLz0f4

This is a wonderfully historic moment, for the following reasons:

1. Sam is not only openly but triumphantly gay.

2. It’s really romantic.

3. It’s sexy – as many people have pointed out, Sam’s boyfriend, Vito Cammisano, is also an
athlete – he’s a swimmer, so their relationship pretty much counts as gay porn.

4. It’s a moment that has mesmerized so many gay men with absolutely no interest in
football, like me.

5. It’s a step forward without violence, which in terms of any civil rights movement,
is rare.

6. Because Sam is getting the good news over the phone, it’s like a scene from a movie
in which an actor or actress finds out that they’ve either landed the lead in an upcoming
project, or been nominated for an Oscar.

7. Because of this video, everyone, now and in the future, can share in this moment
of victory.

8. It’s a joyous and unguarded moment, moving from suspense through tears to celebration.

9. As many folks have also pointed out, this video is likely to upset bigots everywhere,
but then again, what doesn’t? It’s also a nice rebuke to those fundamentalist, viciously
homophobic twins, who’ve just had their house flipping show cancelled by HGTV. The twins
and their followers have of course framed this as a free speech issue, and after
referring to gay people as demons, the twins now claim to love everyone. Since when
does the Bill of Rights guarantee every American their own HGTV show?

Last night I watched an episode of Property Brothers, a different HGTV show,
where the Scott twins, who seem perfectly nice, renovated a fixer-upper for a gay
male couple. One of the gay guys kept coming up with more and more ideas, as the
house “spoke” to him. These ideas continued to destroy the budget and time frame for
the renovation. The twins, and the other, more sane, member of the couple were barely
controlling their urges to strangle the “creative” gay guy.

I’ve always felt that true equality demands an equal measure of gay
gossip, gay home rehab shows and gay celebrity
romance. That’s why couples like Michael and Vito, Ellen and Portia,
and Neal Patrick Harris and David Burtka have changed the social landscape,
and more power to them.

Also, instead of trying to pinpoint the precise “cause” of homosexuality,
shouldn’t scientists be trying to figure out why so many sets of twins
go into real estate?

1. For you to finally meet someone who will love and appreciate you, just the way you are, but also agree with her about how you could use a haircut.

2. For you to call her just to say hi, and not because you feel obligated or guilty. In other words, she wants you to lie. Is that so hard?

3. She would like you to explain, once and for all, what she did to you while you were growing up that was so terrible.

4. While she insists that she hates Mother’s Day, and that the whole thing is just an excuse to sell cards and flowers, if you don’t buy her something that cost a decent amount of money and shows some thought and caring, she will tell everyone that she has no children.

5. She would like you to think of her, for once in your selfish life, as a person and not just a Mom. And she doesn’t want you to reply to this request by insisting, “I didn’t ask to be born.”

6. She would like you to send her so many flowers that when her friends see them, she can tell them, “It’s embarrassing, I don’t need flowers, but what do you think these cost? Just guess. I don’t need to know, I’m just interested. Just an estimate.”

7. If your family is Jewish, she would like you to stop referring to her as a Jewish mother, because it’s an insulting stereotype. And she doesn’t care that you dropped out of medical school, even if she’s told all of your relatives that you’re just “taking a break.”

8. All she really wants is for all of her children, whom she loves more than her own life, to be happy. And thin. And to own a decent sports jacket. And to keep the hair out of their eyes. And to stand up straight. Would it kill you? And if you just said, or even thought, “It might”, then you should be ashamed of yourself. And you should buy your Mom that new coffeemaker she keeps emailing you photos of.

I just passed a batch of 4 and 5-year-old kids, racing around a neighborhood playground. I overheard one of them tell the other, “I’m going to make you pay for that!” At first I thought they were playing, say, Batman and the Joker, but then I decided that, due to the first little boy’s powerful intonation, maybe they were playing Joan Crawford and Bette Davis.

I was once heading through my building’s hallway, when I interrupted some other children shooting each other with Nerf-ball guns. As I passed, they respectfully stepped back, but as the elevator doors were closing I heard these children shout, “Gay man! Gay man!” I instantly became politically outraged, until I realized that they were shouting, “Game on! Game on!”

I’ve just received an email from Jockey, advertising a 20%-off sale on Mothers Day gifts. At first I thought, who in their right mind would give their Mom underwear? But then I thought, well, Jockey also makes fancy underwear. Which made me think, who in their right mind would give their Mom fancy, sexy underwear? Why don’t they just call it the Norman Bates Collection?

This is Sister Cristina, the young nun who’s rocketing to stardom on the Italian version of
The Voice. As a teenager, Cristina had enrolled in a drama school sponsored by nuns, but just
before she was about to sing for the Pope, she broke her ankle. Then Cristina felt the call
and became a nun, leaving Italy to work among the poor in Brazil. Then she returned to a
convent in Milan and entered a Christian singing competition, which led to her appearance
on The Voice. This video has been viewed over 41 million times, and Cristina is still on
the show.

I think my favorite things about this video are the closeups of Cristina’s sensible
shoes, the shots of the other nuns rocking out, and Cristina’s eyeglass frames.
All of the stories about Cristina tend to mention Sister Act, and Whoopi Goldberg
has praised Cristina on Twitter.

I originally wrote Sister Act for Bette Midler, and in one of the many drafts there
was a scene where Bette, in a habit, sang Try A Little Tenderness to a newlywed
couple, while trailing the microphone cord over her shoulder, Vegas-style. If you’d
like to know more about how Sister Act came to be, there’s an article spilling the
beans in my book I Shudder; this article originally appeared in The New Yorker.

The internet has driven itself into a meltdown, chattering over the red carpet fashions at the
Met Ball, which was held in honor of the Costume Institute’s new exhibit devoted to the genius
couturier Charles James. The celebrities in attendance wore outfits careening from the
entertainingly atrocious to the truly elegant. I loved them all, maybe because unlike at
the Oscars, no one was pretending that they just happened to toss on a ten-ton designer gown
for an otherwise serious-minded event. The Met Ball was a celebration of fashion,
in all of its glorious excess and occasional restraint.

Sarah Jessica Parker was sensational in an Oscar de la Renta – SJP always seems
genuinely knowledgeable about fashion.

The internet was a bit divided over Neal Patrick Harris and David Burtka, but I think they look
great, and what’s more, I bet that Charles James would have agreed.

A photo can never do Mr. James’ work justice, so if you can,
head to the Met.