In the end…
it doesn’t come to to who you bed,
but who you love.
I originally posted this on Chick n Dicks (they’re generous enough to invite me around once in a while) when they were doing an Ordinary Hero’s segment for the month of February. In light of the president’s endorsement yesterday and the fact that I personally believe that gay couples CAN change people’s misconceptions just by being who they are, I have re-posted it again here, with a few edits for SFW reading.
Let’s face it, we like our escapist reading. We love the hot swarthy men who jump into the fray, take down the bad guys with claws, fangs and superpowers; and it’s even better when they’re having really hot m/m sex right after. (Got to burn off all that adrenaline somehow!)
I read a lot of different genres and it always struck me that some of the most ordinary characters in the books were, in fact, the ones that had the most profound impact; the unsung heroes that allowed the main character his glory.
But that reflects in real life too, because it’s usually not the one in front of the podium that’s made the change in someone’s life. It’s the person you never hear of, the one that doesn’t do it for the glory, or the attention, or (let’s face it) the really hot sex. They do it because it’s right, because their heart says that there is more to being human than just taking.
It might be someone like that accountant you noticed but never really saw. You know the one pushing his pencil around all day, tapping at keys and making sure all the numbers are right. Then he goes home to his quiet life and…
As many of you already know, I am a LGBT Youth advocate and donate half the proceeds from The Value of Rain to help two local nonprofit organizations whose dedication and goals match my own. Occasionally I post updates here about what they are doing and how they are affecting the LGBT Youth community. Considering the age of both of these organizations, what they have done in such a short time is nothing less than phenomenal, and it is exactly why they will continue to get my support. [Read more…] about Helping LGBT Youth – January 2012
Stephen lives in London, is the orphan of parents murdered by terrorists and has a cavity of loneliness growing in his chest.
Dustin has escaped his Southern upbringing but holds dark fears about his sexuality. He has never known a simple kiss or a hug that wasn’t attached to brutality.
Finally finding the love that they have both searched a lifetime for, Dustin has one last request before he returns to his previous existence: Please forget me.
A storm had blown through London that night and driven them back to the flat, sopping with laughter and a wet chill. When Dustin pulled his shirt off suddenly Stephen froze and gaped at him because it was the first time Dustin had ever exposed his torso in the three months they’d been seeing each other.
“What happened there?” Stephen asked. He cringed and squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the words left his mouth; realizing, too late, that Dustin’s scar was the very reason he and Dustin had never shared a shower together; why he’d never been allowed to caress the smoothness of Dustin’s chest; why Dustin had always acted so adamantly withdrawn about his upper body. He turned into the pantry before Dustin could respond and busied himself with a fresh pot of tea; hoping that the casualness of his actions would make his question seem much less intrusive than it sounded. [Read more…] about Listening to Dust – Excerpt
Tyler’s dad found out he was homosexual and disowned him, denied that he ever existed, and threw him out of the house after beating him unconscious. Tyler is 14.
When he is on the street picking through dumpsters looking for something, anything, to eat, he thinks of all the times he heard his parents tell him that they would love him no matter what.
He recalls when he lay curled in his father’s lap while his daddy read to him. He remembers that he would drift off to sleep in his arms only to awaken the next morning tucked safely in bed. He thinks that this memory, which has suddenly left him trembling and near tears again, is only three years old. Just three years, when he was eleven, and didn’t really understand all the names and rage his father would throw at him later.
He wonders what his mom is doing now, why she never stepped forward and said, “Enough!” Why she never did anything on that night but cinch the curtain a little tighter when he turned and looked back at what used to be his home. Did she hate him too? [Read more…] about What Do You Tell Him?
The title of this post reflects an email I received from a fan after he read The Value Of Rain.
And while I very much appreciated the sentiment behind his words, I never wrote Rain to do anything other than make people think and feel. As one recent reviewer wrote “If you are looking for something light to read, then The Value of Rain isn’t for you, but if you want to read a story that will wrench your heart and make you feel something, then give it a go.”
And please don’t misunderstand, because I enjoy escapist writing as much as anyone else. I’m a massive sci-fi fan and will quickly chomp down a series like a fat greasy cheeseburger, licking my finders and all!
But when atrocities come close to home; when you become witness to suffering that you could never imagine, then a voice must be made, a voice must heard. The Value Of Rain is a voice; the voice of people I knew and of things they suffered. It’s also voice of my own conscience trying to deal with the horrifying sorrow of what they felt comfortable talking with me about. And yes, several of the characters in the book are/were real people; some of the most humorous and some of the most tragic. I will leave you to decide for yourself which are real and which are fictional, and will not discuss that further. [Read more…] about You don’t let my conscience sleep