Andrew Keenan-Bolger is a multi-hyphenate Broadway actor, instructor, podcaster—and first-time solo author. His debut young adult novel, Limelight, stars Danny, a theater-focused teen living in New York City during the queer renaissance of the 1990s, who rises above bullying and domestic violence to enter the competitive world of LaGuardia High School. PW spoke with Keenan-Bolger about the inspiration behind the story, the importance of theater for young people, and the role history plays in education.
What was the catalyst for the book?
It was inspired by conversations that I was having with my queer and gay friends about living in New York in the ’90s, specifically the generation before me. I was always curious about our history because it’s often so fragmented, either because it was silenced or erased or lost entirely in no small part because of the AIDS epidemic. I’ve always been curious about the kind of stories that didn’t get written down.
I moved to New York in 1996 to perform in my first Broadway show, Beauty and the Beast. I arrived at a very chaotic, magical time. I was so moved by the tension of change and the electricity of the city. It was sleazy and grimy, but also a Disney Store opened in Times Square. I remember seeing peep shows and sex workers, but also a new generation of Broadway shows and writers creating really interesting stuff. I have my own memories, but I was fascinated with the generation just before me, who truly lived in that era—the ones who were dancing at clubs like the Limelight or slept on the street to get tickets to Rent and who built community in spaces that no longer exist.
What inspired you to tell Danny and Christian’s story in that time period as opposed to now, almost 30 years later?
Rent was a show I saw when I was a kid—I think I was probably 10. I remember my mom being a little hesitant to take me to see it because it deals with pretty adult themes. But I won lottery tickets and I sat in the front row. It completely changed my world. It really cracked something open for me about what musical theater could be, and about queerness and community. I felt like it was a fun year to set the book in 1996, because as a Broadway performer, I think that that musical really changed the art form in an impressive way.
As I’m reading other young adult books, one thing that makes me so happy is that there are so many stories where coming out is not the obstacle that it can be. Because I was writing that story set in the ’90s, I did want to be honest and unflinching about what it was like, while also getting to tell a story that, while the queerness and identity questions are difficult, it’s something that [my characters] are able to grow into and find positivity in.
I do think it is important, in today’s world, to know that these freedoms we’ve been afforded by people generations ago are still very tenuous and can go away. I don’t want anyone to ever take for granted how hard it was for the generations before us to secure these freedoms.
What else were you hoping to share with today’s young readers?
As a performer, I am always attracted to writing about the theater. It really was a lifeline for me. I know for so many kids who feel invisible, theater is often a place they first feel comfortable exploring identities or stepping into a more self-actualized version of themselves. When I was growing up, I didn’t really read any books about kids doing theater. I want to gift this book to all the theater kids out there who, like me, are scouring their libraries hoping to find a book that is about them, something that reflects their lived experience.
Danny’s not an immediate star, he’s not a typical spotlight character. I feel like a lot of theater stories are about the diva. It was important to write a character who isn’t a natural attention seeker—he’s someone who is anxious and guarded and used to making himself invisible. I go around the country and teach a lot of master classes, and there are a lot of kids in the performing arts who are not exactly immediate stars. Performing arts can be both an escape and survival, a place to try on bravery and learn a new language, maybe [experience] feelings they have not yet figured out the words for. I’m interested in the way that art can give young people a space for becoming who they are. The experience of being a teenager is often trying to be like everyone else, to not stand out. The things that make you special are the things that make you different.
Danny deals with some heavy topics, including bullying, domestic violence, survival, and his identity. What drew you specifically to those themes?
I think it was the time period. To a modern audience, a lot of the language and homophobia, transphobia, depictions of violence—it’s jarring to read. It was certainly jarring to live it in the ’90s. I always want to make sure that I was not putting on nostalgia goggles. It felt irresponsible not to depict the racism and the homophobia and the violence in any way other than honestly. I also think that we oftentimes do not give teenagers enough credit to read about or understand these topics. These are things they see in real life and sometimes seeing it on the page is a way for them to be able to make sense out of their own experiences. I feel like1996 was a huge time of contrast. There were people who, just a year before, thought that they were going to die, and then suddenly in 1996, the [HIV treatment] cocktail was introduced and they were given a new lease on life. I can’t imagine the whiplash of that.
What was your research process? How was it conducting interviews with the people who made up that tapestry of New York during the ’90s?
Oh, it was amazing. I didn’t start out with an idea for a book. I just started out with the time period. I try to follow my curiosity. I think, as a performer and creator, the things that I devote my time to have to be things I’m curious about. I put out a blast on Facebook asking if anyone danced at the Limelight, knew any club kids, was in the musical Rent, was a performer at that time, or went to LaGuardia High School, and would be interested in talking to me. I think I did about 20 interviews with people ranging from cast members of Rent to Michael Musto, who was covering that time period for the Village Voice and had basically embedded with the club kids and people who went to LaGuardia.
I asked them questions and had them tell me stories. Luckily, one of the first people I spoke with was one of the editors at Penguin Workshop where my book ended up—Francesco Sedita. He was my very first interview and shared some bananas stories. I was so fascinated. It was also meaningful for me to get to talk to people who could help fill in memories of a place that was so vivid for me, but I was probably not old enough to understand.
What’s up next for you?
I am actually writing another book, this one with my husband, Scott Bixby, who is an award-winning journalist. It’s for adults. I don’t even know how much I want to talk about what the subject matter is. We’re conducting early interviews and working on the project together. I’m a collaborator by nature. I think just being a performer, I love being in a rehearsal room with people, and writing a book by yourself sometimes can feel a bit lonely. I’m excited to have a wingman for this next project.
Limelight by Andrew Keenan-Bolger. Penguin Workshop, $19.99 Feb. 24 ISBN 978-0-593-88924-4
