Straight by Seth King
I’m a
middle-aged woman, apparently your target audience. Though to be honest that
would mean I expect my golden years to go into the hundreds and really—not so much.
I love reading MM romance novels heavy on HEA. The thing is my personal
(gender) bias (mostly stemming from having read Nicolas Sparks and failing to
ohh and ahh in the right places. Obviously I’m beating an old horse—IT’S ALIVE,
IT’S ALIVE [Insert maniacal cackle here]) leads me to believe that male authors
often fail to hit those emotional arcs which most female authors readily get
(sometimes I cry, but really that’s suppose to happen—I make no apologies). I
liken this absence of emotion to ER the television series (well written and
addictive—though I mostly skipped all the Clooney years), which had dramatic
moments that echoed more than resonated for me.
Having
spewed my diatribe I want to add that there has to be a special place for
writers like Seth King, Damon Suede and Alexis Hall.
“Straight”
hurt to read. More because of those places where I could relate and the person
that I use to be.
Once
upon a time I had to have the talk. The talk in which I told my little girl
about strangers—and she cried. I had that talk two more times since then, but
there is no denying the first time was the hardest. Telling your child a
stranger won’t bring you home even if you know your address and that the world
if filled with bad people is hard.
The
gang violence, the racial wars, the desegregation where I was force to bleed
for someone else’s dream—these things seemed worth the price when I naively
deluded myself into believing racism was a thing of the past. My rude awakening
was not as violence as Henry’s but it was. Just as painful.
Every
time we let ourselves believe that we have evolved and the world is a better
place something slaps us in the face, with a wake up call.
Utopia
is not something I want, even remotely. I want real and gritty. It’s what I’m
acclimated to. But like the voice in Mr. King’s novel that knows there’s
something desperately wrong, I can’t help but strongly believe that elevating
extreme beliefs by belittling or hurting others is just wrong. I want what
Henry want, but the world is still a lot of black and white and I’m Nuyorican—because
that’s a thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment