Photo by Michael Burmesch
Outwords Books interior
Outwords Books
The recent closure of Milwaukee’s only LGBTQ dedicated book shop, Outwords Books, Gifts and Coffee, one of few remaining independent shops of its kind nationwide, has ended an era of Milwaukee queer history. An irreplaceable cultural asset, Outwords represented a welcoming destination not only for the local literati but also for the full spectrum of the community.
When proprietor Carl Szatmary opened the shop in 1993 (originally under the name “Afterwords”), he had already established his credentials as a passionate arts activist. Over a decade earlier he helped found the Milwaukee Gay/Lesbian Film Festival. Held annually at the UWM-Union, it would evolve to become another Cream City institution, the Milwaukee LGBT Film/Video Festival. Under the auspices of the UWM-Film Department of the Peck School of the Arts, the festival would continue for nearly three decades. Szatmary was also a prolific critic, penning book and movie reviews (the latter under the nom de plume Glenn Bishop) for the local LGBTQ press.
Tucked away from the madding crowd, Outwords was situated in a quiet residential neighborhood not far from UWM’s upper East Side campus. Especially in its early years, that made the cozy corner location a safe destination for those looking for a good gay read, where one could peruse books, magazines and beef cake calendars to their heart’s content without having to out oneself in a retail book store’s “LGBT” section.
When I interviewed Szatmary in June 2017 on his receipt of the Shepherd Express LGBTQ Progress Award, he told me, “We get a lot of college kids, still today, who come and look around to see what kind of store it is. Sometimes that’s OK, and sometimes they’d giggle and run off, but sometimes that group of giggling kids included somebody who came back subsequently on their own.” In fact, lovers met there as testimonials posted on the shop’s social media page reveal. Szatmary was also among the first PrideFest vendors setting up on the grounds with stacks of popular titles and assorted rainbow gifts and souvenirs.
Smart Company
Naturally, it was the perfect place for those just looking for some smart company. The coffee bar with half a dozen stools offered a relaxing opportunity for chit chat with fellow customers or to probe the mind of the proprietor himself for insightful reading tips. Christmas cookie parties were the highlight for the holiday season for the customers and writers. Philanthropist Joe Pabst would stop into Outwords regularly to buy up the latest releases and donate them to the LGBT Community Center library.
Speaking of smart company, Szatmary regularly hosted local, regional and national writers for readings and book launches. Latina poet Carmen Murguia appeared in February of this year. Over the decades, dozens of celebrated literary personalities appeared, included leading gay romance novelist Andrew Grey, (my mentor, whom I joined on one occasion to read from my first published short story ) and Olympian Greg Louganis.
Since 1994 it was home to the Outwords’ book clubs for lesbians, gay men and trans readers with Szatmary suggesting the titles to choose from. While only the men’s group continues today, even the COVID pandemic could not dampen the enthusiasm of those avid bookworms. In 2020, the Gay Men’s Book Club shifted from monthly in-person meetings to ZOOM and continue that cyber connection today with Szatmary remaining as its literary guide. (Book Club member Larry Wheelock welcomes new readers to join. He may be reached through his personal social media page or by email at LLWheels@me.com)
But time and progress took their toll on Outwards viability. Ever expanding alternatives to the printed book, big box business competition, and even the advance of LGBTQ rights reduced the need for the small, independent gay book seller. Coupled with the impact of the COVID pandemic and Szatmary’s own health concerns, Outward’s fate was sealed.
For any enterprise, a 30-year run is impressive, but Outwords Books was historic. As a unique and enduring microcosm of Milwaukee’s LGBT community, it nurtured an aspect of our spirit that bars and other organizations did not. We owe Carl Szartmary for all those years.
While we celebrate progress, it always comes with a cost. I’m reminded of the famous refrain from Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”: “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”
