#FML has arrived! Shout to @baysiqly and @er305, also known as The Vagabonds! #hiphop #rap #music #VMG #Miami (Taken with instagram)
![A few weeks ago, before the release of my novel GUESTLIST, I was having drinks with the lovely and amazing Emily Cavalier of Mouth of the Border and the conversation shifted to the topic of my novel.
Ms. Cavalier asked the question that everyone asks: “How much of it is autobiographical?”
“Twenty percent,” I said.
But you know, even that’s not true. GUESTLIST is most assuredly not autobiographical. The novel is not about me. And, despite what some will inevitably think, I am not any particular character in the story. In fact, the entire storyline is complete fiction.
With one exception.
And that exception, Dear Readers, is what inspired GUESTLIST.
[caption id=”attachment_773” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Jay Fingers and Kanye West”][/caption]
For those who do not know, I worked in nightlife for several years. I mostly worked in marketing and operations, and then, as a side hustle, I hosted and promoted events. It was a grind. Sixteen to twenty hour days. No days off. And when I was lucky enough to have a night off, it usually fell in the middle of the week, like Tuesday or Wednesday. The club scene was my life.
Not only did I host events, I often worked as a doorman, mostly during the Saturday night parties at downtown Miami nightclub Nocturnal. Yes, I was the asshole with the clipboard and the comp tickets deciding who was cool enough to get in. I won’t lie, at times I experienced power trips. It was nearly impossible not to. I mean, I was the gatekeeper. I was the decider. I was the main motherfucking man. I had the ability to open the gates of paradise, and I could also deny you the privilege of hanging with the cool kids. That effectively made me the person you did not want to piss off.
Working as a doorman – hell, as a host and promoter, in general – taught me quite a bit about social grace. I learned that people are not nice unless they have to be nice. People are unconcerned with whatever you are going through, unless it affects their plans and wishes. People do not like you – they like what you can do for them.
[caption id=”attachment_774” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Jessica Rosenblum and Jay Fingers”][/caption]
I’ll admit I was pretty popular on South Beach. Not because I threw the biggest, most lavish parties or knew all the celebrities that came to town, but because I was simply a nice guy. I’m a Southern boy, it’s in my nature to say “please” and “thank you,” to hold doors open for whomever, to show general concern for people in my surroundings. And I treated everyone the same, whether you were a billionaire playboy living on Star Island or you were a busboy from Lil Havana who spoke little English. We’re all people, we all deserve to be treated kindly.
Everyone did not share my views on respect and basic decency, mostly those who were “successful.” People with money and status had a tendency to treat people like shit, and these people were usually involved in the same industry in which I worked. What was laughable, though, was that some of the worst people, the most attitudinal, were those with no money, no success, no clout of which to speak. Yet they carried themselves haughtily, demanding VIP treatment and looking down on those considered subhuman. It was incredible.
[caption id=”attachment_775” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Missy Elliott, Jay Fingers, Trina”][/caption]
Yes, I know, I’ve once again given you a shit-ton of background. But here’s why. There were two incidents from my party promoting days that gave rise to the plot of GUESTLIST.
The first incident took place at Suite Lounge, a now-closed nightclub that was housed in the legendary Club Liquid. One of my colleagues – we’ll call him “Marty” – and his buddies were attending the hip-hop party that Suite was hosting. Suite was my day job; naturally, I had considerable pull at the club. Now, even though this was a hip-hop party, Suite was notorious for being less than kind to people of color. As I was at the door, not only was I more than willing to walk Marty and his crew inside, I was going to hook them up with free bottles.
As they were walking in, one of the young ladies in Marty’s crew was introduced to me. “Jay Fingers?” she snorted. “Well, if that’s what you wanna be called.”
They spent the next ten minutes apologizing and trying to convince me to still let them inside.
The second incident also took place at Suite, and this incident is the exception of which I early wrote. Some young women I knew from the University of Miami were already inside and simply lounging near one of the bars. I pulled some strings, invited them into VIP, and got a few bottles of champagne so that we could all have a good time.
One chick, however, didn’t know I was the reason their whole crew was in VIP. So even though all her friends were dancing and taking photos with me, I guess she thought I was a thirst bucket and decided she didn’t like me. This little girl ran up on me and began screaming, telling me to get away from her and her friends.
I didn’t say a word. After all, when I’m angry, I become silent. Her friends quickly informed her that I was the person who’d gotten them in VIP. You know that little girl didn’t even apologize? She tried to justify her outburst but her behavior and lack of social grace cast a damper on the remainder of the evening.
This idiot broke on of Sun Tzu’s Laws of Power, the 19th one, which explicitly states: “Know who you’re dealing with. Do not offend the wrong person.”
Again, social grace.
[caption id=”attachment_776” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Mya and Jay Fingers”][/caption]
So that, in large part, is what I wanted to explore in GUESTLIST. The lack of social graces. The unwarranted sense of entitlement that some people feel when they are in such an environment. The consequences and repercussions of trying to chase and maintain a celebrity lifestyle, whether you’re a celebrity or not.
Based on the few Amazon reviews I’ve so far gotten, I guess it’s safe to say I succeeded in doing what I set out to do. But I don’t know for sure. Why don’t you tell me? Hit me up in the comments and let me know your thoughts on GUESTLIST, social graces, or whatever you want to talk about.
Cheers!
Original Article](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m20n93iMso1qz8ul7o1_1280.jpg)
A few weeks ago, before the release of my novel GUESTLIST, I was having drinks with the lovely and amazing Emily Cavalier of Mouth of the Border and the conversation shifted to the topic of my novel.
Ms. Cavalier asked the question that everyone asks: “How much of it is autobiographical?”
“Twenty percent,” I said.
But you know, even that’s not true. GUESTLIST is most assuredly not autobiographical. The novel is not about me. And, despite what some will inevitably think, I am not any particular character in the story. In fact, the entire storyline is complete fiction.
With one exception.
And that exception, Dear Readers, is what inspired GUESTLIST.
[caption id=”attachment_773” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Jay Fingers and Kanye West”][/caption]
For those who do not know, I worked in nightlife for several years. I mostly worked in marketing and operations, and then, as a side hustle, I hosted and promoted events. It was a grind. Sixteen to twenty hour days. No days off. And when I was lucky enough to have a night off, it usually fell in the middle of the week, like Tuesday or Wednesday. The club scene was my life.
Not only did I host events, I often worked as a doorman, mostly during the Saturday night parties at downtown Miami nightclub Nocturnal. Yes, I was the asshole with the clipboard and the comp tickets deciding who was cool enough to get in. I won’t lie, at times I experienced power trips. It was nearly impossible not to. I mean, I was the gatekeeper. I was the decider. I was the main motherfucking man. I had the ability to open the gates of paradise, and I could also deny you the privilege of hanging with the cool kids. That effectively made me the person you did not want to piss off.
Working as a doorman – hell, as a host and promoter, in general – taught me quite a bit about social grace. I learned that people are not nice unless they have to be nice. People are unconcerned with whatever you are going through, unless it affects their plans and wishes. People do not like you – they like what you can do for them.
[caption id=”attachment_774” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Jessica Rosenblum and Jay Fingers”][/caption]
I’ll admit I was pretty popular on South Beach. Not because I threw the biggest, most lavish parties or knew all the celebrities that came to town, but because I was simply a nice guy. I’m a Southern boy, it’s in my nature to say “please” and “thank you,” to hold doors open for whomever, to show general concern for people in my surroundings. And I treated everyone the same, whether you were a billionaire playboy living on Star Island or you were a busboy from Lil Havana who spoke little English. We’re all people, we all deserve to be treated kindly.
Everyone did not share my views on respect and basic decency, mostly those who were “successful.” People with money and status had a tendency to treat people like shit, and these people were usually involved in the same industry in which I worked. What was laughable, though, was that some of the worst people, the most attitudinal, were those with no money, no success, no clout of which to speak. Yet they carried themselves haughtily, demanding VIP treatment and looking down on those considered subhuman. It was incredible.
[caption id=”attachment_775” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Missy Elliott, Jay Fingers, Trina”][/caption]
Yes, I know, I’ve once again given you a shit-ton of background. But here’s why. There were two incidents from my party promoting days that gave rise to the plot of GUESTLIST.
The first incident took place at Suite Lounge, a now-closed nightclub that was housed in the legendary Club Liquid. One of my colleagues – we’ll call him “Marty” – and his buddies were attending the hip-hop party that Suite was hosting. Suite was my day job; naturally, I had considerable pull at the club. Now, even though this was a hip-hop party, Suite was notorious for being less than kind to people of color. As I was at the door, not only was I more than willing to walk Marty and his crew inside, I was going to hook them up with free bottles.
As they were walking in, one of the young ladies in Marty’s crew was introduced to me. “Jay Fingers?” she snorted. “Well, if that’s what you wanna be called.”
They spent the next ten minutes apologizing and trying to convince me to still let them inside.
The second incident also took place at Suite, and this incident is the exception of which I early wrote. Some young women I knew from the University of Miami were already inside and simply lounging near one of the bars. I pulled some strings, invited them into VIP, and got a few bottles of champagne so that we could all have a good time.
One chick, however, didn’t know I was the reason their whole crew was in VIP. So even though all her friends were dancing and taking photos with me, I guess she thought I was a thirst bucket and decided she didn’t like me. This little girl ran up on me and began screaming, telling me to get away from her and her friends.
I didn’t say a word. After all, when I’m angry, I become silent. Her friends quickly informed her that I was the person who’d gotten them in VIP. You know that little girl didn’t even apologize? She tried to justify her outburst but her behavior and lack of social grace cast a damper on the remainder of the evening.
This idiot broke on of Sun Tzu’s Laws of Power, the 19th one, which explicitly states: “Know who you’re dealing with. Do not offend the wrong person.”
Again, social grace.
[caption id=”attachment_776” align=”aligncenter” width=”511” caption=”Mya and Jay Fingers”][/caption]
So that, in large part, is what I wanted to explore in GUESTLIST. The lack of social graces. The unwarranted sense of entitlement that some people feel when they are in such an environment. The consequences and repercussions of trying to chase and maintain a celebrity lifestyle, whether you’re a celebrity or not.
Based on the few Amazon reviews I’ve so far gotten, I guess it’s safe to say I succeeded in doing what I set out to do. But I don’t know for sure. Why don’t you tell me? Hit me up in the comments and let me know your thoughts on GUESTLIST, social graces, or whatever you want to talk about.
Cheers!
Our house parties were legendary. #Club6121 #miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
Sonya, myself, Yvette #miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
Me & Hoops. Before Shaq got his paws on her. Ha! #miami #throwbackthursday #tbt (Taken with instagram)
College. I think. Always got compliments from this pic. Heh. #miami #throwbackthursday #tbt (Taken with instagram)
Jen, me, Elizabeth. #Suite #promoterlife #miami #throwbackthursday #tbt (Taken with instagram)
Karen Discoball, Lou, Rachele J., and I. #Santos #promoterlife #miami #throwbackthursday #tbt (Taken with instagram)
Me, The Queen, and Fritz. #promoterlife #miami #throwbackthursday #tbt (Taken with instagram)
Despite what many may say or believe, ideas don’t just pop into a writer’s head from out of nowhere. Writers are inspired by a great number of things, big and small, and when those disparate elements align at just the right moment – BOOM! – it’s like the Big Bang of inspiration or something. The idea hits and suddenly you’re like, “Whoa!”
For me, the idea of writing GUESTLIST actually came together very slowly. In the mid-aughts, I was very heavy in the Miami Beach nightlife scene. By day, I worked in operations and marketing for an entertainment company that owned and operated two of South Beach’s hottest nightclubs; by night, I hosted and managed parties at other venues as a side hustle. It was an interesting position in which to find myself because I found myself on both ends of the spectrum (the corporate end and the entrepreneurial end) and I dealt with two separate crowds within the same industry: the hip-hop/urban contingent and the electronic dance music group. Or, to put it even more bluntly, the Black crowd and the white crowd. Hey, that’s what it was.
I was fortunate to get into the game with the assistance of some true heavy hitters. I began working with longtime South Beach promoters Tommy Pooch and Alan Roth at their company, TAI Entertainment. Tommy and Alan showed me the ropes and introduced me to the glamorous Miami Beach jet set crowd. They held parties at then-poppin’ venues like The Delano, The Raleigh, Touch Restaurant, and Suite Lounge. Sure, I started low on the totem pole – collecting emails and passing out flyers and such. But eventually Tommy and Alan gave me real responsibilities and made me feel like a valuable member of the team. For that, I’m forever grateful.
I then moved on to the now defunct Mantra Entertainment, where I basically did everything. The wonderful thing about Mantra was that it afforded me a true behind the scenes understanding of what goes on in the nightlife business. For most, it’s all about popping bottles of champagne and partying with the beautiful people. Sure, that’s much of it, but not all of it. The nightlife industry is a billion dollar business for a reason. It’s all about entertainment and marketing. The education I got working with Mantra is probably more valuable than the one I supposedly got in college.
Not only that, I made a great deal of friends while working in nightclubs. You’d think that such relationships would be superficial and fleeting given the nature of the industry. Thankfully, that has not been the case.
While working with Mantra, I was also able to connect with a few of the city’s prominent club promoters and work with them on events as well. People such as Mike Gardner of Headliner Market Group, Phil the Mayor, and Michael Madd all contributed to my knowledge and experience working the club scene. Sometimes they taught me things outright; other times, I had to study their moves and learn on my own. But the thing is, I always kept a watchful eye on my elders in the game. Hey, you never know what you’ll discover next.
I know, I know, this is a lot of background info. Why else do you think I’m splitting this into two parts? Haha! The point is, I know the world I’ve written about in my novel GUESTLIST. I know the world very well. I know the people – and that includes the partygoers, the promoters, the club owners, the club staff, the celebrities, everyone – and I know their stories. And so, when the inspiration hit me to tell some of these stories, well, I felt confident that I knew what I was doing.
Alright, I’ve bored you enough with background info. Next time, I will share with you the actual inspiration for GUESTLIST, what ignited the initial spark and how that, in turn, became the raging fire that is my debut novel.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments below!
Oh, what a night. #miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
Robin. #miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
College days. #TheU #miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
The Sub! #Miami #tbt #throwbackthursday (Taken with instagram)
This year. Return of the prodigal son. #Miami (Taken with instagram)
