My novel, My High School Boyfriend, has a 4+ rating at Goodreads. The reviews here and at Amazon are mostly good, too. That’s great. I appreciate that. Of course, there are a couple who don’t like it. One reviewer at Amazon said that Glen was “drippy” and “whiny.” I’ll admit that stings a little, especially since Glen resembles me more than any of my other characters. However, I don’t think the person who wrote it understands the story. Calling Glen drippy and whiny is just another way of saying he’s soft and passive. In the very first chapter, Glen admits that he isn’t like other boys. He’s gay, and he also has a gentle spirit. He doesn’t want to be a fighter. And I think that’s okay even if most don’t. In one scene, Shannon tells Glen that it was brave to not allow the bullies to change him, and I think Shannon is right.
In the book, I describe something called “Rejects Row.” That’s where Glen spent his lunch periods before Shannon showed up. Rejects Row was real. It was the hallway in front of the office at my old high school. It was where the socially awkward kids and the misfits hung out when they weren’t in class. I spent some time on Rejects Row. It may very well still exist. I wouldn’t be at all surprised. I’m sure that teachers and administrators knew the kids who could be found there were having a hard time, but they were mostly ignored. Not much was ever done for them.
I think that’s because, according to conventional wisdom, there is something wrong with the kids on Rejects Row. It may be true that they need to learn some social skills, and they could probably benefit from a boost in self-confidence, but many seem to think that they need to buck up and become harder, tougher.
But what if the struggles of the kids on Rejects Row are an indication that the environment they inhabit is too harsh? What if there is simply too much bulling, harassment and ridicule? What if the threat of physical and sexual assault is too real? If a thug who is bigger and stronger grabs a young man in the restroom, shoves his face into his crotch and demands the kid suck his dick, do we really want that young person to think he’s on his own? Do we really want that young person to think he’s drippy and whiny if that situation scares the shit out of him? I guess some do. I guess many do. But I’m glad not everyone thinks like that. The positive feedback I’ve gotten for this story suggests to me that at least some believe Glen is worthy of love and a good life despite not being like other boys. I am grateful, and I hope the story manages to encourage a few gentle souls to remain true to their nature.
This is so silly and delightfully goofy that it has made me laugh several times since I came across it yesterday afternoon, and I’ve not laughed much since the weekend.
I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday, and although the results of my blood tests were fantastic, I became highly anxious and agitated while walking over there. I couldn’t look anyone in the eye. I kept my head down and hoped no one would speak to me.
The nurse said my blood pressure was up. I wanted to tell her that my anxiety levels were quite high, but I was embarrassed. She might ask why, and what could I tell her? There was no rational reason why I felt so panicked.
Maybe I could have said that life for me is sometimes like the survivors on The Walking Dead. When I’m around people, I sometimes feel like I’m in danger. I fear that someone will notice me and… And what? I don’t know. I’m afraid something bad is going to happen. Something awful…dreadful, unimaginable.
The doctor made me wait almost two hours which certainly didn’t help matters. When he came in, I was tongue tied, and I had trouble formulating coherent sentences. By the time I was finished with the interview, my head hurt, my muscles were stiff, my neck was stiff, and all I wanted to do was get back to my apartment.
The experience left me feeling ugly, fat, stupid and worthless. I fought it off as best I could, but since Monday, that feeling was lingering there in the back of my mind. Then I saw this absurd image, and I laughed. I really laughed.
My family was Baptist when I was growing up. I never really bought into it, and I studied religion and philosophy at college because I wanted to understand what life was all about. I took an intro to religious studies class my freshman year. Our textbook was an anthology containing essays from various authors such as Rudolf Bultmann and Joseph Campbell. Their ideas were revolutionary to this country boy from West Virginia who had never been exposed to anything other than fundamentalism. But it was the essay at the beginning from the book's editor that helped change the way I look at Christianity forever.
The essay was called Deathwatch. And it was about how the world had changed radically in the last 200 years but the Christian religion had not evolved. It was about how religion serves the needs of the culture in which it operates or fades away. It was about how it is common for religions to die, for people to lose their faith in them and simply walk away. It has happened over and over again in the course of human history. And it was about how a new belief system that is more suited to the modern world will present itself eventually.
The essay helped me see Christianity and religion in general in a new and more objective way. I came to believe religions are products of culture. They may or may not help us experience or understand something greater than ourselves, but the thing that's greater, if it is real, isn't necessarily bound to any particular religion. If one religion no longer serves our needs, we can go to another, create a new one or simply go without.
I find it perplexing and often sad that so many people work so hard against their nature in order to live up to an ancient ethical code. The relevance of this code in this day and age is highly questionable in my opinion, and our ability to fully understand it is also questionable. I believe that it was a product of a culture that is now long gone, and I don’t think it was in any way perfect when it was first formulated. No more perfect than our laws today. I think empathy is a far superior moral compass. For me, forsaking our desires and feelings for an interpretation of a confusing anthology from an ancient culture is a strange and artificial way to live.
