Excerpt Four from Becoming Real:

Hello, all! The book club this month is featuring my collection of coming out stories, Becoming Real. I will be live to chat today, 7 to 9 PM, but for those of you who may not know what to expect from the work, I think I will post a few sample excepts. These are a personal sampling, and just meant to give you the flavor of the seven short stories through the lens of some of my favorite moments.

Please enjoy, and please leave comments if you have any.

Thanks!

From Becoming Real:

Their first time together was quite a dramatic affair.

While somewhere, through the city streets, Josh's mother was driving to pick them up from Billy's grimy apartment building, the two boys found one another. The next day was Thanksgiving, and Billy after a moment's consideration of his own prolonged family strain, had accepted Joshua's holiday offer to spend the long weekend at his house.

"This feels great!" Josh said, excitedly running to the center of the floor. The boys had magically restored the space to wide-open life again. Billy ran out to join him. The pair threw open their arms and began to circle each other, fingertips just barely touching in the center of their own personal radius. Josh laughed: "Excelsior – you know what that means, right?"

"Ever upward!" called back Billy.

"Whitman's got a poem called that; something like:

The two collapsed to their knees facing and panting towards one another. Their minds still spun in unity, admiring each wall in the netherworld light of the day's finish; the moving air of the late afternoon pushing past them on all sides.

The young men kissed, and passion followed without break. Shirts could not be taken off fast enough, the flesh of chest and abdomen met counterpoint, arms enwrapped arms, exploring muscles; dimensions of biceps, of the hollows of armpits, the curves of chests, the alertness of nipples. Soon hands found ways between jeans and flesh, and sank below waistbands, first to feel the hardness of backs, then lower to the more giving flesh of backsides. Soon came off the shoes in great kicking motions, followed by methodical and slow extractions of the socks by eager lovers. Belts were loosened, pants unclasped, and again, slow and longing hands pulled down the denim from the belovèd's legs. A brief reaffirming by kissing, and Josh slid in between Billy's legs to remove the last bindings.

A tender notion pervaded Josh's senses, for the scent of Billy was something like a musky rose, and it too was inviting and as mystical as any union ever promised. As he kneeled there, Billy stretched out before him. The young man sat up, kissed his chest and drew down Josh's own last scrap of hindering clothes. The shorts freed, the kissing progressed to a higher order and both toppled into the nest to explore, and feel, and be, with each other.

Their jeans slipped on, Billy said hurriedly, "We've got to close the windows."

They went to opposite corners, and still bare of foot and chest, they fought the rejuvenated drapes one by one, closing the line of windows. They met in the center, turning aside a single curtain in its wild motions to find the other standing there, blue-gray and unearthly beautiful in the deepening twilight. Slowly they joined; hands first, left then right, fingers laced through familiar yet different counterparts. They came together, the hug of bare chests making a sensual sound; hands freed, wrapped around shoulders. Together they stepped in a slow dance beat, swaying from side to side, bare foot occasionally brushing bare foot. Joshua couldn't stand it anymore. Though through his own pounding heartbeat he couldn't be sure Billy heard what he hadn't told anyone since Annette; "I love you" seemed to escape his lips into the side of Billy's strong neck.

In a typical suburban house, the corridor plays the most important function in imposing and maintaining the concept of togetherness. It is here that one family member is most likely to run into another family member when one is needed: this is where mother and sister run out, backs unzipped, seeking a helping hand.

It was here that Joshua had bumped into his mother and quickly asked if he could have a friend stay over Thanksgiving weekend. She agreed, hurrying off into the bathroom. At that time, just for a moment, Josh looked at her fleeting figure, wanting to tell her he was Gay. The idea scared him, not the saying of it, that held its own fear, but he was amazed and frightened that the notion had come to him so casually and sincerely. Standing in the corridor, he realized why; another piece of himself had congealed. He thought of Billy, knowing he was the cause. Some greater piece of him wanted to live out in the bright light of the truth, beyond the price of admittance to the self through denial of other kinds of love. At that moment he thought of his mother not as the person he had hated for years, only because he hated himself, silent with his 'vile secret,' but as he now began to love himself through Billy, he saw her in a new light of love too.