[Two Fathers]

Graeme wrote:

I found this video clip referenced from another site and I thought I'd share it here, too:

I forwarded the link to a bunch of friends. Here's what I wrote in my email messages:

I was really impressed by this video clip, especially that it was actually shown on TV in the Netherlands. I can imagine the controversy if it was shown on TV in the USA. And Terence, the singer, is a very cute kid who really has two fathers and who's lucky as all get out!

Graeme, thanks so much for this link.

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

My point was that all the different ages mentioned -- 13, 14, 15 -- tend to confuse the reader. There's no reason why the kid can't just be one age, and then stick with that throughout the story. Otherwise, sharp-eyed readers like me will go, "wait a minute! I thought the kid was 13... now he's 14. Wait, now he's 15! What the heck is his age, anyway?"

OK, I see your point. I need the age change; the birthdays of the two boys are a major event in the story. What I've done is rewrite the sentence when Tony is about to start his flashback:

"So I started telling my mother the story of my life. Not everything, of course. Just the part that began nine months ago, when I was 13 and starting my freshman year in high school."

Hey, and don't forget spelling, too! (Advice.)

Now you're editing my EMAIL too? Sheesh! I just can't catch a break!

Listen, you're already 10 times the writer I was at 16, so you're already ahead of the game there. Do read my "Writing Tips" piece elsewhere on this forum. A lot of it applies to any kind of fiction, not necessarily gay romance, and I think the ideas will help you. In particular, read the book The First Five Pages, which I think is an immensely useful guide in that it can tell you what not to put in a novel. Sometimes, knowing what not to do is more useful than knowing what to do.

Thanks for your comment about my writing. I have read your Writing Tips and copied and saved them for reference. The Contra Costa County Library has The First Five Pages by Noah Lukeman (it's checked out), so I'll reserve it.

I do appreciate comments and suggestions and criticism and advice. Thanks for caring enough to write! This is a great forum, and I'm learning a lot from reading everyone's comments.

Colin

[Gay Teen Novel 2nd Most Banned]

Geography Club, a 2003 gay teen novel by Brent Hartinger, has come in at number two on this year's Banned Books Book Sense Top Ten Picks...

Hartinger's latest novel is Grand & Humble, a teen thriller. A sequel to Geography Club called The Order of the Poison Oak is now out in paperback.

I checked the Contra Costa County Library on-line catalog and they have both Geography Club and The Order of the Poison Oak. Both are listed as YA (Young Adult). Geography Club is currently checked out, but The Order of the Poison Oak is at the Clayton branch. I'll request both of them the next time I'm at the Walnut Creek library. The page for TOOTPO lists this summary:

"After "coming out" at school, sixteen-year-old Russel decides to take a counselor job at a camp for burn victims to get away from the antagonism of his classmates, but finds ten-year-old boys have just as many problems as he does."

There are links on the page to reviews, character information, excerpts, and annotation, all of which have information (the annotation is the summary I quoted above).

I found "Leave Myself Behind" by Bart Yates at the Walnut Creek library, checked it out, and loved it so much I bought my own copy. The protagonist is a gay high school student. I gave it to my mom to read and she thinks it's a great story too.

Our county library system doesn't ban books. They don't make value judgements about which books should and should not be on the shelves. They don't make decisions about what kinds of books a 16-year-old like me can or can not check out. That's the way all libraries should be run. Just my opinion.

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

PS: I'm looking forward to seeing the full story when it's ready :)

Now that I'm one of the seniors at my high school, the teachers all seem to expect double the work from us. Homework. Quizzes. Tests. Reports. Assignments. Projects. Reading. Writing. Arithmetic. Sheesh! I hope things will begin to slow down and even out a bit in a month or so. If they do, I should find time to do some writing on ATWIAWW. Or whatever it is I'm going to title it.

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

I personally didn't like the open. To me, this smacks of wallowing in self-pity (not that I don't do that myself from time to time). I would shorten the open to get to the point, make the writing tighter, and lose the flab, maybe just have him think about what's happened on the walk home from school. I would also avoid something as vague as "sad" in the mother's dialog. To me, that's not how people talk. A real mother would ask, "what's wrong? Why are you crying? Is there anything I can do to help?"

There's a lot to respond to here!

Tony is wallowing in self-pity. That will be made obvious in future chapters. The first chapter establishes the emotions that Tony is going through.

When I was 14 I didn't cry very often, and sure don't now that I'm 16. When I cry it's because I'm sad about something. My mom recognizes that and asks me what I'm sad about. Last year a kid I knew at school was killed in an accident at home (he fell off a ladder and never regained consciousness). He was a good friend of a lot of us at school, and when we heard about it we got together and cried -- at school, boys as well as girls, in front of other kids. When I got home that day I started crying when I was trying to tell Mom what happened, and she hugged me and asked me what I was sad about. I'll never forget that. So being "sad" isn't, IMO, something strange.

This is the first chapter of what's going to be the longest story that I'll have written so far. I wrote this first chapter to set the basis for the rest of the story.

But I like the idea: new kid in school discovers he has a virtual clone, on his first day in 9th grade. I could see several directions this could go, anywhere from "twins separated at birth" (assuming one or both are adopted), to "evil twin," where they each have radically-different personalities, one good, the other... not so good. On the other hand, each of these ideas is a cliche. Maybe it'd be more realistic to explore what it would be like if both were just regular kids, neither saints nor axe murderers. Maybe one is gay, maybe both, or maybe their sexuality is in shades of gray. Could go in several interesting directions.

Oooo, two of those are right on!

I did see one factual issue that jumped out at me: 9th graders in the U.S. are generally 15, not 13, unless your lead character jumped ahead a few grades. Students are typically around 18 in 12th grade, and six in 1st grade, so you can work it out from there. (You mention earlier that the character is 14, so now I'm confused. He should be 15, only he's 13 when he first heard "Les Miz," but he's 14 when he listens to his MP3 player. Factual things like this make me crazy.)

In California if you will be 6 years old by December 5 you can start first grade when you're 5 years old. My birthday is November 21, I started first grade when I was 5. I was 11 when I started 7th grade. I was 13 when I started 9th grade. Now I'm 16 and I'm a senior. I'll be 17 when I graduate from high school, and I'll be 17 when I start my freshman year at UC Berkeley. Assuming I'm accepted!

Of the ones I know their birthdays, seven of my friends are 17 now. Eleven are 16, same as me. My boyfriend is a senior, and he's 17, his birthday was August 23, the day after school started this year. My cousin (who lives with us) is a senior, and he's 16, his birthday is November 17, four days before mine. None of my friends are 18 yet. The two who are closest will be 18 in January.

The first chapter is happening when Tony is 14. His birthday and Todd's are November 11, so he started 9th grade at 13 and later in that school year they are both 14. Starting with chapter two, Tony is telling the story from the day he started 9th grade, when he was 13, and met Todd, forward to the time of the first chapter, and then beyond that.

My last comment is to consider using metaphor and allusion to express how things look and feel. Don't just feel "sad." Feel like the world is ending, or that everything is covered with rain, or that you could barely see because your eyes were brimming with tears. OK, all of those are cliches, but you see the point. Try to find a way to express description or emotion in a way that's not quite as direct. Actors refer to this problem when they perform a part that's written "too on the nose," too perfunctory or bland. They look for subtleties and nuances that give their roles depth, usually through dialog and action.

I'll keep this in mind, and talk about your suggestions with my editor.

And ditch the title. Again, to me, it's too on the nose. I would go for something more poetic, or at least more eye-catching. I think titles are very important, and you have to figure this is what's going to initially grab the reader (beyond a sexy cover illo).

This is a working title. Sort of like the name "Longhorn" Microsoft used for the new version of Windows, which is now named "Vista". I'll finalize the title later.

Good starting idea. I really look forward to seeing where you take this.

Thanks! And thanks for your comments and suggestions. Comments and suggestions are VERY important to me! I am only 16, and sure need a lot of advise about what I write!

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

Treb wrote:

The one that caught me was "the tears soaking my shirt and they slid off my face." Maybe 'sliding off my face' would be better, but that still wouln't get the image of a teflon slippery face, to which nothing sticks, not even tears, out of my mind.

I agree, this sentence is clumsy. Here's how I've rewritten it: "...the tears running down my face, soaking my shirt."

Colin

[Idiotic things we (I) do]

We have 5 desktop PCs, 1 laptop PC, and 1 file server at home (my dad's a computer network consultant). Every keyboard has a key marked with the word Enter and with a long skinny left-pointing arrow underneath.

Colin

[SOUTHERN BAPTIST LEADER DECLARES WAR]

What scares me as a 16-year-old high school senior is what is our country going to be like when I'm an adult if psudo-religous hate mongers like these actually get some of their anti-freedom agenda enacted? Will I have to move to Canada with my boyfriend?

Colin

[Character decription]

Camy asked:

What do you all think about character description. Is it important to describe characters in detail as soon as they are introduced, or do you think it's ok to build the character in your own head, learning bits as time goes on?

I let the story dictate whether I describe my characters or not. In "Escaping Katrina" I don't describe my protagonist / narrator Cody. Cody does describe some of the other characters as he encounters them in his narrative, not in detail but more in general, the way a teen might think about someone he sees for the first time. In the chapter of "A Day When It All Went Wrong" that I posted to the Bull Pen, Tony descirbes Todd in more detail than I'd usually use because the two boys look like twins, and having Tony as the narrator describe Todd and by "reflection" himself is a way to let the reader know how much they look alike.

I don't like stories that start out "My name is Bill, let me tell you about myself. I'm 5' 9-1/4" tall, skinny but with a great bubble butt, my hair is light brown and hangs over my forehead and ears and my mom is always on my case about getting it cut, my eyes are a piercing blue..." Gaahh!

I write an outline shortly after I start writing a story. The outline includes details of every character who's going to be involved in the story, including how I see them physically and emotionally and how they relate to the other characters. I learned to do this early on when I was taking Creative Writing in intermediate school. I wrote a short story for class where I described the main character as having brown hair then later wrote that she had blond hair. I got a B because of that gaffe, and it taught me a lesson: outline, outline, outline! I also create an Excel spreadsheet to track timelines and events in my stories so I don't screw up. Excel makes it easy to update by inserting new rows and columns.

Colin

[Announcing Codey's World]

Codey's World - at http://www.codeysworld.com/ - is a new site and forum by Codey, a poet and author whose writing has been available at AwesomeDude.com for a year now. I am the web designer, following his ideas for the site.

The site offers poetry, stories, and non-fiction by Codey and other authors he has invited. All hosted writing focuses on relationships, not on sex. Hosted stories are suitable for everyone.

The site is intended for gay, straight, in-between, and not-sure people. You're welcome if you're GLBT or friendly. You are also welcome, regardless of skintone/culture or physical ability.

Hey, Codey and Blue, congrats on an awesome site and forum!

Colin

[Codey's Fables - Updated!]

Hey, Codey,

Your Fables are wonderful. I'll be checking for the next installments.

Colin

[Gay book pulled off reading list]

jamessavik wrote:

If you ask me the real threat to democracy in the US isn't some flea bitten mullah holed up in a cave. It comes from petty, bureaucratic little shits who have a little power and enjoy it far too much.

I disagree. The greatest threat to democracy in the US comes from those Evangelical Christians who are pressing an anti-gay agenda of hate. They are as bad as the mullahs who press the Sunni versus Shi'a sectarian hate in Iraq. IMO, it's a religious war. And gays are just the current target.

Colin

[Non-elegant poetry!]

This is my favorite limerick:

The limerick packs laughs anatomical

Into space that is quite economical.

The good ones I've seen

So seldom are clean

And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

=====

Here are some funny ones:

=====

'Twas a sex-crazy man from Nantucket

If a chance came his way, then he took it

Until one fateful day

When an offer quite gay

Was too good and he told himself "suck it."

=====

There was a young gay guy named Feenie,

Who sobbed to his date, "You're a meanie!

You claim you're a stud

But, oh, what a dud!

Your dick is a real teeny-weeny."

=====

His orange prick had made him unstable

"Doctor, please help me if you are able!"

"There's no sore or decay,

How do you spend your day?"

"I eat Cheetos and watch the porn cable!"

=====

There once was a child named Roy,

A young and innocent boy,

Discovered his peter,

And thought it much neater,

Than books or games or a toy.

=====

On the internet they found romance,

That put both in a hot sexual trance,

But each had a gripe,

About having to type,

With one hand stuck down inside their pants.

=====

Colin

[Spelling and Grammar Q&A]

Thanks for the comments on my "so" / "so that" question. The consensus seems to be that it's a matter of choice. I prefer "so". So now I have to go talk to my creative writing teacher from last year so I can convince her. LOL!

Colin

[Scouting and discrimination]

I just found this, and think it is interesting. I hope I'm not bringing up something already mentioned here and overlooked by me.

http://www.scoutingforall.org/articles/2006080802.shtml

Here's an earlier article from July 18, 1998, two months after Berkeley ended giving free berths to the Sea Scouts. Richmond, CA offered free berths, but then applied a non-discrimination clause similar to Berkeley's:

Richmond OKs Sea Explorer Ship, City Council insists on anti-bias policy, defying Boy Scouts

Discrimination sucks. Bias sucks. Hate sucks. The BSA leadership sucks.

Colin

[Spelling and Grammar Q&A]

I don't understand why "so that" is considered correct. It seems unnecessary in a sentence like "He gave me the money so that I could buy the tickets." I think it should be "He gave me the money so I could buy the tickets."

Here's what my dictionary says:

NOTES: Many critics and grammarians have insisted that so must be followed by that in formal writing when used to introduce a clause giving the reason for or purpose of an action: He stayed so that he could see the second feature. But this rule is best regarded as a stylistic preference; in such clauses that is frequently omitted even by reputable writers in formal contexts, as in They will have to double up so (or so that) room can be found for the new arrivals. - Both so and so that are acceptably used to introduce clauses that state a result or consequence: The Bay Bridge was still closed, so (or so that) the drive from San Francisco to the Berkeley campus took an hour and a half.

---------------------------------------------------------

Excerpted from American Heritage Talking Dictionary

Copyright ? 1997 The Learning Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

I agree with the dictionary. However, my Creative Writing teacher last year demanded that in this context it had to be "so that".

What do you think? "So"? Or "So that"?

Colin

[Does a picture/song/etc ever make you want to write?]

Inspired by music? Absolutely!

My story A Time When It All Went Wrong was inspired by my listening to the song I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miz. My cousin Chris had been telling me about his problems with his dad, who was berating him for not going out for sports, and actually called him a pansy. What a shit my uncle is! Anyway, that made me realize that the lyrics in Les Miz

I had a dream my life would be

So different from this hell I'm living,

So different now from what it seemed...

Now life has killed the dream I dreamed...

described what Chris was going through. I'd only met Chris once, about a year ago when I went to Seattle with my folks for my Great-Great-Aunt's funeral, and he was there. He's about a month older than me, and we look so much alike everyone was telling us we looked like twins.

That combination was in my brain until I got home. I sat down and wrote the outline, and the first few chapters of ATWIAWW in one sitting.

Other things have inspired me. We had an assignment to write a story in my Creative Writing class last year. The title had to be "A Christmas Story." Ugh! Lame! We had to write 5,000 words over Christmas vacation and turn it in the day we got back to school. I wrote about a kid whose name was William Christmas and how that impacted his life starting when he was a little kid. But I got writer's block about 1/3 of the way through. I was stuck. Then I saw a show on HBO titled "I Have Tourette's but Tourette's Deesn't Have Me" about kids with Tourette Syndrome. The story really affected me. These were such great kids, stuck with a genetic condition that impacted their lives, often negatively, It was really sad, but uplifting, too. That show inspired me. In my (G-rated) story Will Christmas began showing symptoms of Tourette's. I finished it in one sitting. It ended up having almost 10,000 words.

I think inspriation can come from many sources. Music, TV, things I see and hear at school and on the street, the news, the one-sided conversations I hear people saying on their cell phones, basically anything in my life. And these inspirations often just pop into my head. So I always keep my eyes and ears open.

Colin

[Review: Leave Myself Behind by Bart Yates]

Review by Colin Kelly

Bart Yates' Leave Myself Behind is at the top of my personal Favorite Books list. It's a gay coming-out and coming-of-age novel, and much, much more.

Noah York is the 17 year-old protagonist. He and his mother have just moved from Chicago to a small college town in New Hampshire. It's late summer of the year Noah will be a high school senior. Noah's mother, Virginia York, is a poet of some renown, and she's taken a teaching post at Cassidy College. She's bought an old Victorian house that's in desperate need of a major remodel, and decides that she and Noah can do the work themselves.

Noah is a profane, foul-mouthed, blunt, sarcastic, impudent, critical, self-centered, funny, joke-cracking, wise and wiseass closeted gay teen. His relationship with his mother is shaped by her personality. Noah describes her this way:

"Living with Virginia York is a special case. Living with Virginia is like living with a myth. She's only half-human; the rest is equal parts wolverine, hyena, goddess and rutting goat.

"In other words, she's a poet."

After reading those lines, I was totally hooked. Hooked so thoroughly that I've read this novel three more times since I first read it in March, and as a result of writing this review, I've decided to read it a fifth time.

Noah and Virginia don't have a normal teen-mother relationship. It has the appearance of normality, but is actually on the cusp of being dysfunctional. Part of this dysfunctionality is Noah being uprooted as he's about to start his senior year in high school. Part is Noah is still grieving over the recent death of his father. Part is when a mystery intervenes into Noah's and Virginia's lives, when Noah finds a fragment of a poem in a Mason jar hidden in a wall of the house. All semblance of normality is destroyed as Virginia descends into madness as more secrets hidden in the house are revealed. These circumstances are out of Noah's control, and we ache with him as he tries to shape a normal life from the growing dysfunction that threatens to overwhelm him.

Then there's J.D., Noah's 16 year-old neighbor. Noah falls for J.D., who has all the appearances of being straight, with a girlfriend in the local high school's A-list group. We discover that J.D.'s family is more dysfunctional than Noah's. His father is an alcoholic, and his mother seems to hate J.D., something fairly recent that J.D. can't understand. The growing relationship between Noah and J.D. has all of the clumsiness and confusion of real-life teens exploring their sexuality.

And poetry. There are poems sprinkled throughout the story. They help us understand Virginia, and are an integral part of several of the mysteries the novel explores.

Noah is funny. His dialog is funny. His narration is funny. This is a dangerous novel to read on public transit! If you're like me, you'll bust out laughing time after time while reading this novel because you can't not do so. Your fellow passengers will look at you like you're crazy. Ignore them. Who cares what they think? But you have been warned!

Leave Myself Behind is much more than a coming-out story and a love story. It?s believable. It's funny, with some of the best laugh-out-loud lines I've ever read anywhere. It's a series of mysteries, with so many twists and turns that I didn't want to put it down. Above all, it's a story about relationships between teens and their parents and each other.

Five stars.

Colin Kelly

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

Ele Civil wrote:

This is really good! If you decide to post more, I'll definitely follow it.

Wow! Thank you! I love your story Laika, and I'm flattered (now there's a word that's not usually used by teens!) by your complement.

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

VWL wrote:

I have an edited version of your story that makes some suggestions and a few wording changes. It is probably too long to post here, but if you send me your email address to vwl1999 [at] lycos.com, I can send you a red-line Word version that will show all my suggested changes--and they aren't many, given the quality of your work.

I'm colinkelly [at] xemaps.com -- thanks!

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

Wow, thanks guys! I appreciate all of the comments and the suggestions. I'd like to ask a question about the two suggestions, Graeme's and Camy's.

Graeme wrote:

I read this and my first reaction was 'Sad? That's a word that almost no one uses about themselves."

I'm 16 and in high school. I think about myself being sad when I'm sad. I used it at school when a friend died. and my friends said they were sad too. I told my folks that I was sad when a gay friend was told by his father that he either had to stop seeing his boyfriend and go to another high school or move out. (Uhh, I'm not out to my folks, but they aren't homophobic at all, and they said that no father should ever do that to his son.)

Camy wrote:

ok a wee crit... would a character describe themselves as funny? That's what their friends are for.

I think I'm funny. My friends have always told me that they think I'm funny. I'm always joking around, and laugh at anything that I think is funny. Even in class. Two of my teachers have called me a "cutup" and one said that she was using that as a pejorative. lol! (I have an A average, so those teachers put up with me.)

Anyway, I tell people that one of my best features is that I'm funny. Then I do something to prove it!

I could change the sentence to read:

Maybe because I was friendly, and my friends had always told me that I was

But I think this change makes the sentence clumsy.

OK, I'm looking for input. Am I and my friends so weird that we are different than other kids our age in the way we think of ourselves? Should I stop using words that are correct for me and my life but maybe not for others? What do you all think? And thank you for your input!

Colin

[A Time When It All Went Wrong]

Welcome to the Bull Pen!  

This place has been set aside for new writers to practise their craft. The purpose is to provide an area for story samples to be posted for comment. The intention is that others will provide constructive criticism to allow new writers to improve.

This is such a great idea! I'm a (fairly) new writer who'd like comments about what I write. The instructions don't say how short (or long) a sample can be. So, if my sample is too long, I'm sure you'll tell me. There are a couple of minor sexual references, but I think they're necessary for the story, and there's no "action" in this sample at all.

So, with a desire for feedback, and without explicit direction about size, here's a fairly long sample from a new story I'm writing. I think it's just about enough of a sample that you can imagine where the story's going. I have a lot more written. But it's far from finished.

Constructive feedback will be very valuable. And appreciated. Or just an "I like it" or "I don't like it" with the reason(s) why will be fine, too.

Colin Kelly

A Time When It All Went Wrong

I had a dream my life would be

So different from this hell I'm living,

So different now from what it seemed...

Now life has killed the dream I dreamed...

I couldn?t take the bus, not when I was crying, so I walked home from school with tears streaming down my face. I?d never been so sad in my entire life. Everything had turned into a living hell.

Mom and dad were still at work. I went into my bedroom and closed the door, grabbed and clicked on my Zen Micro, then slumped down onto the floor leaning against the side of my bed. I inserted the earbuds and pressed play. There was only one song in this playlist, ?I Dreamed a Dream? from Les Miserables. I?m in the school chorus, and our teacher had decided to use this musical as the basis of our first semester. Oh, we?d never be able to perform it before an audience; the royalties for a performance license were far beyond what any high school could afford. But we could, and did, sing it in class, learning every song, every nuance, every turn of phrase. I had fallen in love with this music, with these lyrics. I knew every song by heart, and didn?t need the score.

There was one song that meant more to me than any other. ?I Dreamed a Dream.? It wasn?t appropriate for a 14 year old gay kid whose life had been shattered beyond recovery. It?s a song sung by a woman, not by a boy. It was about unrequited heterosexual love, not a crushed teenaged boy?s gay love. I leaned my head back against the top edge of the mattress and listened to the song, then joined in, singing along. Les Miserables. So appropriate. I was miserable. It all fit so perfectly. So sadly.

My tears flowed and were unstoppable, the song repeated automatically, and I sang along, taking special meaning from the words.

There was a time when men were kind,

And their voices were soft,

And their words inviting.

There was a time when love was blind,

And the world was a song,

And the song was exciting.

There was a time when it all went wrong...

My bedroom door opened. Mom was home, she had heard me singing, the lyrics broken by sobs, the tears soaking my shirt and they slid off my face. She must have thought I was practicing. But when she looked into my bedroom she saw me sitting on the floor, slumped against the side of my bed, crying. The next thing I knew she was sitting on the floor next to me, her arm wrapped around my shoulders, asking me what was wrong. I looked at her, then buried my face in her shoulder and cried and cried. She kept stroking my face, trying to wipe away the tears, but as she wiped away the tears, more appeared. It was hopeless, just like my miserable life.

Eventually I stopped crying. No matter how sad, how miserable, someone is, at some point they stop crying. Eventually.

?What?s the matter, Tony? Please tell me. Why are you crying, why are you so sad??

?Oh, mama!? ?Mama?, my name for my mother dredged up from when I was a little boy. ?I?ve lost him. I won?t ever get him back.?

?Tony, Tony, please tell me what you mean. Who have you lost? Tell your mama, and I?ll try to help you fix whatever?s wrong.?

?It will never be fixed.?

?Just tell me everything. Even if it can?t be fixed, it will help for you to tell me what?s wrong, why you?re so sad.?

So I started telling my mother the story of my life. Not everything, of course. Just the past few months, since the start of my freshman year in high school. Some of my story she already knew. But now she was going to hear all of it, including the personal, private things I?d never, ever tell her otherwise. Otherwise. That was the whole point. Otherwise.

----------------------

I dreamed a dream in time gone by,

When hope was high and life, worth living.

I dreamed that love would never die,

I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

Then I was young and unafraid,

And dreams were made and used and wasted.

There was no ransom to be paid,

No song unsung, no wine, untasted.

It was the first day of my first year in high school. I was excited, looking forward to new adventures. I loved going to school, unlike some of my friends from middle school. I was a good student, and my studies came easily. Teachers liked me, and even though I was one of the ?smart? kids, other kids seemed to like me. Maybe because I was friendly, and funny, and helpful if anyone was having a problem in one of my classes.

I?d gone to Carver Middle School, the 6th through 8th grades. Now I was going to Wilson High School. Most of the kids I knew from Carver were going to Lehman High. The school district decided what high school you?d go to based on where you lived, not what middle school you?d gone to. Most of my friends were going to Lehman, and that was a bummer, but because I was friendly and outgoing I figured I?d make friends at Wilson. Lehman is a good school. But Wilson has a better reputation. The best things about going to Wilson were it was academically the highest rated school in the city, it was the largest with over 2,800 kids in 9th through 12th grades, and it had the best football team. And I could take the 105 bus from the bus stop a half block from my house directly to school.

I went to homeroom, then to English, American History and Government, and Chorus. I liked all three classes, especially Chorus. That?s where I was introduced to Les Miz, as Mr. Emmonds our teacher called it. I?d never heard the musical ?Les Miserables? before. On that first day, after all of the first-day paperwork and sorting out, we got to listen to about 20 minutes of Les Miz.

It was a revelation! I?d never heard anything like this music before in my life. I was totally captivated by it, as only a 13-year-old could be. I hummed one of the tunes over and over as I walked to the cafeteria for lunch.

?Hey, Todd!?

I looked up as I handed the cashier my lunch ticket, and she punched it and gave it back to me. It was apparent that the boy about 5 feet ahead of me, who?d just gone through the line, wasn?t talking to me. But he seemed to be looking directly at me, with a grin on his face. I picked up my tray and looked around to see where I could sit to eat my lunch. There were some empty chairs a couple of tables away, so I started walking in that direction.

?Hey, Todd, what?s your problem, didn?t you see me? Can?t you hear me??

It was that boy again. He was taller than I was by 2 or 3 inches, with soft blond hair and a huge grin on his face. He?d walked up to me where I was standing, and put his arm around my shoulders and started to guide me to another table.

?Uh, do I know you? My name isn?t Todd.?

He stopped and looked at me.

?What kind of game you playing? One of your jokes? C?mon, let?s have lunch.?

He was bigger and stronger than I was, and he guided me, no, dragged me to a table in the back corner of the cafeteria.

?Hey, guys!?

The kids facing us across the table looked up and their expressions changed, to shock, maybe, or to confusion, or some of each.

?What!? My ?guide? sounded confused, probably because of the reaction of the kids who were staring at me.

A boy sitting directly in front of me, facing the other way, apparently curious to see what was causing the excitement, turned around and looked up me. I almost dropped my tray. I was looking into a mirror. I was looking at me. Sitting at this table, in this cafeteria, in this high school, was someone who looked exactly like the kid I saw every time I looked in a mirror. His hair was the same color as mine, kind of a dirty blond and just a little curly. His complexion, the color of his skin, was exactly the same as mine. He had freckles on his cheeks but none on his nose, just like me. His eyes were the same color as mine, a greenish blue. His nose was the same size and shape as mine, kind of small and, IMO, cute. His teeth were real white and straight, just like mine. His ears stuck out from his head a little too far, just like mine. His chin had a dimple right in the middle, just like mine. His lips were kind of pouty, just like mine.

He broke off staring at me, and looked at the boy who had been my ?guide?.

?OK, Brian, what are you trying to pull??

I assumed that ?Brian? was the name of my ?guide?.

?What? who? but?? Brian kept looking back and forth between me and Todd. ?I don?t??

?Jeez, Brian, how?d you get someone all dressed up to look like me? This goes way beyond the practical jokes you played at Edison.?

?This isn?t a joke, Todd! I saw you, uh, him, in the lunch line. I thought he was you.? Brian turned and pointed and looked at me, and ?Todd? stood up and stared at me.

?I don?t believe it. You do look exactly like me. Except my name?s Tony. Tony McKinley. Your name?s Todd??

?I don?t believe it, either. Uh, yeah, I?m Todd. Todd Anderson. Jeez. I can?t believe it. Shit, we?re even wearing almost the same clothes! Jeez, it?s like I?m looking into a mirror!?

I looked down and saw he was right. We both were wearing blue shirts, mine was just a little darker than his, khaki pants, and brown Rockports and tan socks. I started to laugh.

?Maybe we?re twins, separated at birth.?

?Uh, well, how old are you Tony, and when?s your birthday??

?I?m 13, my birthday is November 11th. Yours?? By the time I got the sentence out I knew from the shocked, unbelieving expression on Todd?s face that his birthday was the same as mine.

?No shit! There?s no fucking way!? He looked over at Brian. ?You set this up, didn?t you Brian!?

?No, no. How could I have found someone who looks exactly like you??

Todd looked back at me. ?Where?d you go to school??

?Carter. You went to Edison??

?Yeah. Where do you live??

?On Oakmead Court, near Trimble. You??

?Solano Drive, not far from the Old Creek Mall. When?d you move here??

?Been here since 2nd grade. You??

?Last year. 8th grade.?

I just stood looking at him. Brian pulled my tray out of my hands and put it on the table. I guess he thought I might drop everything off of it, which probably would have happened in a few seconds.

Todd kept looking at me. ?I?m about 5-6. How tall are you, Tony??

?Um, I?m not sure. Probably about the same.?

Brian grabbed a tray from in front of one of the guys sitting at the table and shoved the dirty dishes and utensils off. He pushed me so I was standing face to face with Todd, pushed tightly against him, face to face. I liked being pressed up against Todd?s body, breathing in as he exhaled, smelling his scent, staring into his eyes, feeling his heart beat in his chest. I was starting to get turned on. I couldn?t keep pressing against him, he?d feel it if I got a boner. Brian put the tray so it was across both our heads.

?Look, you two?re the exactly same height! What do you weigh, Todd??

?About 125.?

?Tony??

?Uh, about 125, I guess.?

Brian put the tray on the table, and Todd and I pulled back from each other. Just in time, any longer and I would have absolutely gotten a boner, and Todd would have felt it, and I?d have died of embarrassment. Todd was shaking his head.

?I. Do. Not. Fucking. Believe. This. No way, Jose! This can?t be happening!? He was grinning, big time. It looked like he actually liked the idea that we looked like twins. I sure liked the idea!

?Me, too. I agree. No way. But here we are, you and me. Maybe we are twins!? I laughed.

?Yeah. I?ll bet one of our mom?s gonna wonder what her being pregnant for nothing was all about.?

?Huh??

?Look, Tony, if we?re twins, one of our mothers was pregnant with both of us, and the other was pregnant but didn?t have a kid. That?s not possible. But if we were twins it would hafta been that way, right? And it couldn?t have been a mix-up at the hospital, ?cause I don?t have any brothers or sisters.?

?Yeah, I?ve got a sister, but she?s a lot older. She?s a freshman at UC Santa Barbara. Hey, Todd, where were you born??

?Chicago. You??

?Glendale. California. Guess that finally proves that we?re not twins, just look-alikes. Weird. Amazing, but totally weird!?

...

(End of sample)

Copyright © 2006 by Colin Kelly, All Rights Reserved.

[Kansas: Rainbow flag creates controversy]

Jack Scribe wrote:

I have no idea where Meade is located in Kansas but this is the same geographical neighborhood in which the "Rev" Phelps dwells. This is the whacko, hateful minister who pickets gay events (same one who protested Matthew Sheppard's funeral). His homophobic venom is scary.

MIKE HENDRICKS, The Kansas City Star wrote:

The Christian radio station quit holding its staff meetings in the restaurant, which cost the Knights an advertising outlet. In exchange for free meals, the station had plugged the Lakeway on air as a station sponsor.

IMO, all hate, including hate of gays, is the devil's work. That makes "Rev" Phelps and all of his followers and everyone who expresses hate of anyone, gay, straight, black, white, Asian, whatever, an agent of the devil.

[Helping new writers]

I am all for FREEDOM OF SPEECH but you should take responsibility for what you say by putting your name [or nom de plume] on it. I use the same name- jamessavik everywhere that I go on the net, email and when ever I join a site. I do this because I am who I am anywhere and everywhere I go, don't really care who knows it and I don't want to remember 60 IDs.

I agree, except... (don't you love "except"?) when I sign up for email newsletters (mostly computer newsletters) or have to sign on to a computer-oriented web site, I use a forwarding service to generate a name for that site. I don't see anything wrong with that.

Everything I write is by Colin Kelly, and I'm signed up on forums like AwesomeDude and sites like Nifty as Colin Kelly. BTW, I'm 16 and will be a senior in HS when school starts on August 22.

Colin Kelly

That's me!

[What do you use as a bookmark?]

I use a SFMOMA MuseumStore bookmark. They give them away free. They're plastic coated and hold up great, and they're a little oversized so they're easy to find in a thick book.