Ghetto Celebrity: Searching for My Father in Me

by Donnell Alexander

Donnell Alexander grew up sideways in the cramped spaces of Sandusky, Ohio, the son of a devout mother and a dad named Delbert, a protean genius who jacked a thousand identities—from pimpin’ them hoes to preaching the gospel—but skipped out on fatherhood when his son was in diapers. Donnell unwittingly replayed Delbert’s tragedy as farce until he finally wrote himself his own story, becoming a star of California’s freewheeling alternative press, spreading the gospels of punk and hip-hop in print. After finding a career and starting a family of his own, Donnell was drawn to reconnect with the vanished Delbert, and when he did, things fell apart, as they tend to in the grip of ghetto celebrity.

Told in multiple voices, freestyle raps, and a graphic interlude, this is the riotous story of one writer’s mission to find truth in the margins and an engrossing tale about phantom fathers and the sons they leave behind.

288 pages, Hardcover

First published June 10, 2003

About the author

I'm not actually working on a bittersweet hometown memoir called Sandusky Touched Me. Let's scuttle those rumors immediately.

Here's the story's essence: I'm 45 and have three children. My time is spent between three West Coast cities where I produce non-fiction content. Journalistic in its essence. Two exemplifying pieces are the memoir Ghetto Celebrity. The essay Cool Like Me: Are Black People Cooler than White People?

My work airs sometimes on public radio and has been honored by film organizations such as Sundance. I've been on writing staffs of media outlets such as ESPN and LA Weekly.

My newest project is Beyond Ellis D. As our official website below explains, this book is an interactive creation.

On Kindle Beyond Ellis D is a rangy, unpredictable essay, supplemented by cool art and fascinating links. When Beyond Ellis D is downloaded from iTunes and consumed on an iPad, Sound and visual components also flesh out the narrative, allowing the story of a baseball legend to reach its entertainment peak.

If I get my way, the latter scenario will be the only way I tell stories for the rest of my time on Earth.

Reviews

[Mitr · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brutally honest, brilliantly revealing.

[RK Byers · Rating 5 out of 5]

Donnell makes you hate his guts!

[Donnell · Rating 5 out of 5]

European cover. Never released.

[Graham Capobianco · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this book, especially how Donnell weaves between honest introspection and hilarious candor. I wish the ending was a little more powerful, but there were so many other powerful moments that make up for it.

[Christine Vargas · Rating 3 out of 5]

Occasionally I come across a piece of literature so compelling it elicits an immediate written response despite the frantic schedule that dictates my harried day-to-day.

I wolfed this book down on subway cars and elevator shafts, skimming through its malcontented descriptions of soured employment, and avidly consuming the trail of paragraphs in which the author describes his relationship with the mother of his children.

Donnell Alexander embodies all of my primary fears concerning how men may mistreat women: an issue transcending racial background, but inextricably attached to class and upbringing.

Here is the man my mother intrinsically taught me to shun, a man with a deficiency of respect, an abundance of selfishness, and no familial reference points to reinforce the idea that perhaps...just perhaps he might want to rethink his priorities.

Donnell outlines his all-consuming, pitfall-ridden quest for the grail of a satisfying career with a masterful collection of compellingly crafted passages, which gave me pause every few pages or so to re-read some remarkable turn of phrase. Ghetto Celebrity is a scathing self-portrait of unapologetic egotism couched in disaffected, yet brilliant literary talent.

However. His story reminded me that as a woman, I stand firmly against the romance offered by the Donnell Alexanders of this world. Antics of men who follow similar paths may not take the woman out of the workplace, but they demote her to second class citizen/harem girl/convenient emotional and physical repository in all other aspects. Not every woman is brought up to withstand this kind of mental abuse, but many are brought up to tolerate it, and the callous misogynists who prey on the latter make it increasingly difficult for the man who holds his woman up instead of leaving emotional skid-marks across her chest.

I have no natural enemies more dangerous to my sanity and status as an independent woman than this sort of man, and have crafted defenses of the most underhanded sort to deter their attentions the minute they reveal their intentions. The only thing preventing me from going so far as to seek their annihilation is the fact that they most often are a creation of their society, and therefore not completely to blame for their misguided outlook on life. But (and I pause for effect) THEY COULD CHOOSE ANOTHER PATH. Women, your only consolation prize is simply that, often they end up old and deserted, grasping at their disappointed children in late attempts for undeserved affection.

Better to be alone and secure in the respect and love of friends and family, than to pin hope on a man such as this...a man who chooses not to know better.