About The News : a publication of the Atlanta Gay Center. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1984-199? | View Entire Issue (April 25, 1986)
ROY WOOD: A RESTLESS REDNECK by Alexander Wallace Roy was a writer, author, atheist, iconoclast, a body-builder and a wit. Though he minded dying very much, he said "What might be out there doesn't bother me," and he did not recant and return to God on his deathbed. In fact, his last request was for orange sherbert. Roy F. Wood, author of "Restless Rednecks: Gay Tales of a Changing South" and one of only ten nominees for the prestigious Townsend Prize For Fiction, awarded only every two years to Georgia writers, died of AIDS April 11th, in Athens. Bom in New York City to a Navy man then stationed there, Roy was raised in the rural Georgia he came to write about with such irony, clarity and wit. Though he himself said that "Some of the stories (In "Restless Rednecks") were meant to be read with one hand," there were in all of Roy's writings kernels of cold hard dark truth, illuminated by Wood's reason and, wit. Bom and bred a Southern Baptist, Roy credited his "rude awakening" to the sham of religion to reading Ayn, Rand's "Atlas Shrugged", while in the Air Force. A regular contributor to the Journal of The Gay Atheist League of America, Roy's stories often revolve around the crushing weight of religion on his Southern men and the relieving freedom of atheism. "Restless Rednecks" contains several short stories that tell of such Georgia Men discovering their sexuality-of gay men liberating themselves as much from moral and sexual as well as religious inhibitions and constraints. Not one to mince any words, Roy's message to gay men especially, was that "religion is the problem, not the answer." Unfortunately, the stories rarely convey Roy's personal sense of humor-they do indeed resound with his sense of the ridiculous. It is his spoken wit that those of us who knew him will miss most: that slow, almost "school- marm-ish" drawl, the precise diction-then the pronouncement and the ironic turn of mind- Roy's alone-that made you laugh-and think. At his death, Roy was working on his memoirs-sure to strike terror into any number of happily married men in Athens-and his "AIDS" story. Experimental treatment in Washington had not been successful; Roy returned to Athens, put his house in order, arranged his funeral and set about dying. He remained lucid until the very last, acknowledging that he understood he'd been nominated for the Townsend Prize. He left his home and library to a beloved friend Charles, who had cared for him before-and during his illness^ Roy's novel, 'The Book of Seth", which he described to me as a murder-romance, set in South Georgia and Atlanta, but which I know contains his most deeply felt convictions about love and life, will be published by Knight Press. As a writer myself, as an atheist, as one who loves the South as a second home, as one who does not quite understand it, Roy Wood was an inspiration, a friend and a guide for me. Personally, his fierce independence, his total dedication to his craft, his accomplishments in his life and art, his courageous struggle with AIDS, his clear-headed understanding of life and fate free of religious superstition, his sense of the ridiculous coupled with his Southern sense of humor-his very special voice-which I can hear in every word of each story-will be missed as much as the man himself: Roy F. Wood was true to his word, the man and his words were the same. The Townsend Prize for Fiction, named after James L. Townsend, crusading editor of "Georgia Magazine" and great friend to Southern writers, will be awarded at a Luncheon at the Ritz-Carlton, Buckhead, May 1st at 12 Noon.. Competiton is stiff: Mark Childress ("A World Made of Fire") and Paul Hemphill ('The Sixkiller Chronicles") are among the nine other nominees, but they all are in very good company, even though Roy Wood won't be there. Tickets may be obtained by calling Ms. June Gardner, Administrative Assistant for The Townsend Prize, Department of English, Georgia State Univeristy at: 658-2900.
