Reviewed By Tom Beckwith

D. Fostalove's "Unraveled: Sealed Lips, Clenched Fists" is a captivating fiction novel that evolves around Chauncey Nelson. Fate is extremely significant to this story being unfolded. Reading "Unraveled" is like being in the midst of suspense dramatic movie, and D. Fostalove utilizes literary devices to help lure his readers into the story. Buzzing in anticipation of each incidence that occurs in this novel, I eagerly read "Unraveled thoroughly, so I could find out the enthralling ending. I highly recommend readers to take an opportunity and read this book because of the different twists and turns within this fictional work.

Character development and setting is essential to the structure of this story. For instance, Chauncey Nelson and Thai Miller's friendship is sparked by an unintentional encounter at a concert in Atlanta. Eventually, Chauncey finds out that Thai is gay, but this doesn't prevent him from hanging out with him. However, Chauncey is juggling life as a writer with a girlfriend in a metropolitan city. Also, he has to still with the antics of his cousin Frazier on a regularly basis. Grappling with life becomes easier for Chauncey with Thai consistently being their when things are going wrong in his life. In addition, Chauncey fails to realize the one stable person within his life until it is to late, and he is left wanting to regress in life.

Acceptance is a recurring theme within many of the characters in "Unraveled." Chauncey is too apprehensive to end his relationship with his conniving girlfriend Destiny, and he keeps trying to avoid the fact that he is clearly in love with Thai. Frazier can't bare with his test results from the clinic, Destiny is to insecure to accept the fact that her relationship with Chauncey is taking a dive into the pavement, and Thai keeps hoping that one day Chauncey will be the man of his dream. Putting these events that occurs in this story together is nearly impossible unless you read this book.

There are many questions that D. Fostalove leaves unanswered at the end of "Unraveled." The suspense and drama lives on even after the book is finished, and I am hoping that Fostalove expand more on a few of the characters that were in this fictional work. I thought this was an exceptional book to read, and I could relate to a few of the events that occurred within this story.

D. Fostalove. The very name rings with curiosity. Is this a pseudonym? Is this a male or a female writer? Does it really matter when the writing is so very fine? UNRAVELED: SEALED LIPS, CLENCHED FISTS is far more than a love story, or study in gender ambiguities, or an African American novelist's first work that strongly suggests that this book is Part I in a series. Whoever the writer might be (even Google doesn't help us discover), this is one talented artist.

The story 'unravels' in Atlanta and focuses on a bright young African American writer Chauncey whose journalism has an edge that paces him dangerously near the edge of being dismissed by his newspaper. Chauncey narrates the story of his involvement with a sensuous woman named Destiny who prefers being on government support than demeaning herself with an honest if humble job. The two have a dual life: half of their time together is spent bickering and loathing and the other half is spent in the ecstasy of the physical. Chauncey has a cousin Frazier who drinks and carouses and despite being Chauncey's closest companion abuses their friendship. An act of fate (or 'destiny'!) occurs in an encounter with a handsome you professional African American named Thai, a man with whom Chauncey feels intellectual connection, but a man who is openly gay and finds Chauncey attractive both intellectually and physically. The line of sexual ambiguity arises and Chauncey must struggle with his own feelings, an incident from his past that seared his psyche permanently, a loss of respect form hi friends who refuse to tolerate even a hint of DL, and a growing distance from the increasingly demanding Destiny.

A tragedy occurs that results in Chauncey returning to his home to be with his mother for a funeral and this proves the denouement of the story. Destiny reveals she is pregnant, Thai grows into Chauncey's life as a strongly supportive friend, and upon the arrival of the infant Chauncey's life falls apart. Can he bear remaining with Destiny just to provide a 'complete household' for his daughter, or can he bear not facing his growing physical tenacity with Thai?

Aside from the fact that D. Fostalove writes extremely well, this is one of the first books about the African American experience that does not resort to slang and street talk to relate a story. Not that the flavor of the Black experience is missing: few writers are able to find the glow of the kitchen or the church services or the sensuous interaction often described from the Black atmospheres as other writers. The truths and the particular feelings of the verbiage and expression are solidly intact but D. Fostalove successfully tells this story simply by the use of finely written prose, undecorated with 'isms'. If there are flaws to find in this first novel they may be explored in the lack of allowing the reader to find any aspect of Destiny's character to like. She is a woman we want OUT of the picture, almost on every page.

The ending of the book could either be labeled disappointing in Chauncey's lack of ability to make decisions, or it (more probably) means that Part II is in the wings. Let's hope it is the latter. D. Fostalove, come out of hiding and accept the kudos you so rightly deserve! This is highly recommended reading. Grady Harp, May 09

UNRAVELED  Sealed Lips, Clenched Fists 

A Novel By D. Fostalove 


Modern-day Atlanta with its lofts and condos, clubs, scandals and upwardly mobile denizens serves as the backdrop in UNRAVELED Sealed Lips, Clenched Fists, a provocative new novel by debut author D. Fostalove. 


As we step further into this world we find that Unraveled is also a metaphor as the title represents the seams slowly coming undone within the fabric of one Chauncey Nelson’s life.

Chauncey is a journalist with “an angry black man” complex and a reputation for speaking in a strident voice of agitation. No doubt his voice is strong.  It can ruffle feathers, make right-wingers uncomfortable and shake up the status quo, yet in his personal life, Chauncey’s voice doesn’t always possess bravery to speak his essential truth.  He shares his space with Destiny Penchant, his live-in ‘wifey’, a shrewish, uninformed, unemployed (“I’m between jobs”) sister. Ah Destiny! She bitches at every opportunity. Her biggest complaint is that Chauncey doesn’t make enough green to keep her serene in the life she’d once grown accustomed. Their arguments are feverish and many. Their disagreements are fueled by a passionate intensity rivaled only by their fits of lovemaking.  It soon becomes apparent that Chauncey isn’t happy-to-be-nappy with her as his woman.  With each chapter he, Destiny, and their relationship spin further out of control.   

Chauncey has one true confidant: his cousin-best-friend-and-..boyhood-homey, Frazier.  Frazier, on the outside, is a lovable lug.  He lives for the club life, for neon and wild nights of strippers and quick sex.  Yet, there seems to be some darkness about him. He frequently kisses the lips of fast-food romance, and swigs excessively at the lips of all-mighty bottle. Frazier appears to be addicted to that amber-color magic and indeed has some demons he’s trying to anesthetize.  Still, he and Chauncey are tighter than a virgin’s… ummm… orifice. 

It is through one of their frequent nights on the town  (this time at a Meshell
Ndergeocello concert) that Chauncey literarily bumps into Thai Miller. Thai is a
handsome, friendly, nurturing brotha with the bravery to live his life as an out gay
man.  During this fated meeting and impending conversation, the Thai/Chauncey
chemistry is immediate.  Tai assumes Chauncey is ‘down’ with the lifestyle. Thai
covertly slips Chauncey his digits and they agree to hang out for an evening. All
seems cool on the surface, however, when Chauncey reveals that he is not gay,
Thai abruptly cuts short their date. Thai prides himself on knowing intuitively
who’s down, and with Chauncey’s denial, Thai is instantly turned off. But can
Thai’s gaydar really be so off-kilter when it comes to Chauncey Nelson?  Stay
tuned. 

Slowly Chauncey looks for ways to spend more time around Thai.  They eat out,
attend poetry readings, phone and text with increasing regularity, and soon
become friends who depend upon each other for support.  Their relationship is
not sordid, not dirty, nor sexual, and yet Chauncey does his best to keep the
mounting power of it a secret from everyone, even from himself.  


When Chauncey brings Thai into his inner circle, a physical occurrence takes
place that reveals Thai’s sexual orientation, and upon discovering this, homeboy
Frazier is NOT amused. 

As the main protagonist, though far from being small-minded, Chauncey is not a
wholly likable character.  He’s forever at odds with those refuse to bend to his
way of thinking.  He displays an almost arrogant scorn for the idealism of others,
has serious issues with religion, and is somewhat dubious about the existence of
God. Still, the author makes us root for Chauncey Nelson to find his way, to walk
his true path in the world.

Fostalove has crafted a well-paced story where soul-whispered truths come
vividly alive.  The book has an authentically dynamic tone.  It’s full of realism,
spot-on dialogue, and situations sure to sound a bell within the hearts and minds
of its readers.  The writing is crisp and often on-point, and to his credit, Fostalove
has a way of keying into the core humanity of each of his main characters. Just
when someone may seem to be a one-note, one-dimensional spirit, the author
allows them to slowly unravel like an onion to reveal more layers, more depth and
contradiction. Best of all, this is not a predictable tale. As the conflicts increase,
unexpected twists, ill-time pregnancies, and violent departures flip the script.
These manifestations within the plot will surely cause a shock the system.
Secrets take their own leisurely time to come to light, and once uncovered,
they better illuminate the characters. Even Destiny is made more understandably
sympathetic when her long-held suspicions of another woman in Chauncey’s life
are confirmed, but with the painful confession that: “She is a he.”   

Some of the book’s best scenes take place inside those times of raw intimacy.
The one-on-one conversations between Chauncey and Thai, and most especially
the dialogue forged between Chauncey and his beloved Mama are wonderfully
realized. Here, the writer brings an insightful charm and appealing warmth so
seldom seen in most of today’s ‘urban novels’.    

UNRAVELED Sealed Lips, Clenched Fists is a story about struggle and
self-acceptance, but it also details the journey everyone must embark upon to find
out who they are, and to know what will ultimately make them happy. While the
book ends on an ambiguous note, it too reflects all we know about life and love.
No matter its uncertainty, the essential message is a highly important one: To
Thine Own Self Be True. 
 
I highly recommend Unraveled, and look forward to more stories from this
absorbing new writer with the intriguing last name of Fostalove. 

Reviewed by L.M. Ross, Author of “Manhood,” and “The Moanin’After” 

    The sky looked as if it wanted to open its vast ass and expel its acidic innards. I grabbed my umbrella, ready for the downpour. Closing the large oak door from the foyer, I descended the steps, each stride feeling more exhilarating than the last.
    “Chauncey, pick up baby formula. I still have money on my EBT card…I’ll buy it later since you’re scared somebody will see you with it.”
    I stared up into the second story window where my Rapunzel, with a head of nappy burgundy and black weave, dangled out the window fussing like it was all she knew how to do outside of screwing and sitting around yapping on the phone.
    “Sure.” I exhaled from the exhaustion of going through the same routine of bickering, followed by repeated sex sessions filled with broken promises, and more fighting afterwards. “I’ll get the formula.”
    “And don’t forget…”
    “I won’t.”
    On the sidewalk, broken and dangerous like our lives, I glanced at her waving a finger in the air wildly like she were signing a check that would eventually bounce, and I smiled.
    “What’s your monkey ass grinning about? The baby’s up here crying ‘cause she’s hungry and you’re down there smiling.” She paused.
    “Nothing.” It was coming like Georgia’s long overdue rains.
    “If you go and see that broad…”
She had been so preoccupied with ‘mysterious’ text messages, and midnight calls from withheld she didn’t notice my clothes disappearing from the drawers, or how bills with my name stopped showing up.
    “I’m going to the store. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
    I changed the radio in my head from her fucking madness to the soothing tunes of already muted. She had nothing else I wanted to hear, nothing else to say that I’d allow myself to be burdened by.
    Waving over my shoulder to her suspicious eye, I strolled down the street with an easy gait. We were over like daybreak after a one-night stand. I’d decided to leave for good this time and never come back.

     “What are you over there smiling about?” my longtime girlfriend Destiny asked, breaking me from my reminiscing. I closed the photo album we filled during the first year of our relationship and looked over my shoulder at her standing in the kitchen doorway.
    “The way we were,” I said. “I’m looking at these pictures of you when you still had dreadlocks, when you couldn’t stop smiling.”  
    She grinned, moving into the room where she sat on the arm of the sofa. “Things have changed so much, haven’t they?”
    I nodded, remembering the ambitious working woman I once knew. I remembered the woman who had breakfast waiting almost every morning. I remembered the notes with lipstick kisses set atop my freshly ironed clothes when I slept late and missed her leaving. I remembered the ten-hour workdays that ended with us sexing each other so thoroughly we literally passed out from exhaustion.
    I remembered that same woman with stress lines and bags under her eyes sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor with an empty wine bottle and scissors. I remembered the blood spatter, her locks scattered everywhere, her screaming how she couldn’t take it anymore: the joblessness, the loss of independence, stability, control, self. I remembered the slashed wrists, cradling her, both of us soaked in blood and tears, with 9-1-1 on the line, the sirens, and the paramedics hauling her away kicking, biting, and cursing the world.
    She adjusted the wrap on her head and stood. “You hungry?”
    “I am. You cooking?”
    She rolled her eyes. “No, I cooked yesterday.”
    I set the album into one of the drawers in the coffee table. “What does that have to do with anything?”
    “I shouldn’t have to cook everyday,” she said, entering the kitchen.
    I sighed. “Well I’m headed to Frazier’s house in a few. I’ll eat there.”
    “You’re an ass,” she yelled from the kitchen, scraping food from the breakfast dishes into the garbage disposal. “You act like you can’t cook for me.”
    “Whatever.” I searched for one of my boots.
    “You went over there yesterday,” she said over the grinding of the disposal. “You never go over there this much.”
    I contemplated whether I should tell her anything about the crazy night before when my cousin came clean about what caused his life to spiral completely out of control. Knowing a barrage of questions would follow, I decided against mentioning it and said, “I’m helping him with something.”
    “You better not give him anymore money,” she said. “His butt hasn’t paid you from the last time.”
    I found the boot under the sofa. “Nobody’s giving him money.”
    She turned the disposal off. “Did he ever apologize to you for…?”
    I cut her off, stepping around the sofa to see her. “For what?”
    “Oh, I don’t know but I remember you were upset about an apology and he refused so I just asked,” she said, half-looking over her shoulder.
    “Everything’s cool.” I found my second shoe under the dining room table. “I’ll be back in a while.”
    She spun around with a loud huff.
    “What now?” I stepped into one of the boots, pulling its strings together before stuffing them inside.
    “So you’re really about to go over there?” She put both hands on her hips while rolling her eyes.
    “Yes. Did you think I was joking?”
    “So you’d rather go to your cousin’s house across town and mooch off him than to stay here with your woman and cook for a change? You’re getting sorrier and sorrier.”
    I laughed, lacing up the second boot. “You’re getting more like my mama than my woman.”
    “I don’t see how.” She stared at me knelt down lacing my boot. “At least she can get you to listen to her. I can’t do that.”
    I let out a high-pitched squeal, mocking the various things I could recall she’d said in the last week alone. “You throw your draws on the floor and expect me to clean up after you. Why don’t you ever take the dishes out the dishwasher? How many times do I have to tell you to leave your shoes at the door? Put the toilet seat down, Chauncey. One day I’m going to fall in and drown. Stop drinking from the milk carton…”
    She waved a hand in the air. “Just go. I don’t care.”
    “Yes you do or else you wouldn’t have said anything at all.”
    “Bye Chauncey. Have fun.”
    “I will.” I smiled, pissing her off more than she already was.
    She whispered just loud enough for me to hear. “One day you’re going to come home and there will be another man here.”
    I snatched the Sand Gnats baseball cap off the dining table. “That’ll be the day I burn this shit to the ground with all of us in it.”
    “While you’re over there playing, you need to ask him when he’s going to give us back that money,” Destiny huffed. “We need it bad.”
    “Yeah, I’ll ask him,” I said as I closed the door behind me, thinking nothing of using Frazier as an alibi to go see Thai.

Watch until the end!