LGBTQ+ Stories - Minority Of One

       I wrote Minority of One nine years ago.

God, right now that seems like forever.

I began with a desire to write something my gay nephew would like to read. I wanted to create a gay hero for him, and for gay teens in general. At the time, the number of LGBTQ+ teen suicides was growing at an alarming rate. Homophobia was a major problem in the country. Books with homosexual or lesbian characters were being banned at schools. Thank God those statistics have changed over the years.

My nephew Chris, who I used as my model, grew up in the middle of the LGBTQ+ rights movement. That’s the setting I chose for Minority of One.

While he was growing up, there were very few stories starring LGBTQ+ youth. Even in adult stories, they were either some kind of villain, or came to a sad end to show what happened to such "social deviants," in the words common at that time. Characters who usually bravely hid their inner misery. If he was in the closet, he found himself rejected once someone uncovered his secret. Or the character bravely hid their inner misery. Sometimes a gay boy was the asexual best friend of a girl who valued his fashion sense. Very often, the story ended with them dead or hurting someone who bullied them.

Worst of all, real life reinforced fiction, with the murder of Harvey Milk and the torture killing of Matthew Shepard. Minority Of One was crafted to be something gay teens could feel good about reading. For straight kids, it was to be a window into the life of a “typical” gay teen. I put that in quotes because there is no typical anything. We are all unique. Yet somehow, the literature of the day only included stereotypical gay characters.

Nope, no stereotype for my character. I have heard authors say they write for the child they used to be. Having a specific reader in mind helps them focus and bring their story to life. I wrote Minority of One for the child my nephew had once been. I already had a gay character named Neill from my first book, Pull. I decided he would be perfect for this story. It was easy enough to set this book in the same school, among the same crowd. Neill just needed an actual backstory to go from being an extra to a major character.

Neill needed to be complete, multi-dimensional, just like any other character. I decided that meant he had to have gay as well as straight friends. And enemies.

Realism demanded I have multiple gay teens in my fictional high school. I gave his school a GSA, Gay Straight alliance, which was progressive at the time. A place where young people could lean on each other, and where Neill could be Neill without anyone judging him. Everyone needs a place like that.

I balanced Neill’s story with that of other LGBTQ+ kids. Carl, whose parents’ serious consideration about conversion therapy for their son (that was a big deal back when I wrote the story) sends him running back to the closet. The lesbian who grows so upset about constant rejection she chooses to own the word dyke. The football star, welcomed by class and teammates during the season then ignored the rest of the school year. Then there is Sheila, a straight girl who joins the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance to show she is her friend Neill’s ally.

Readers also get to see that every teen, whether straight or LGBTQ+, experiences problems and triumphs. Since readers love conflict, I give it to them without letting all conflicts be about sexual orientation. Yes, Neill does worry that his young niece will someday grow older and give him the look he often sees in the eyes of some judgmental adults. But his biggest problem is that the older brother he worships appears to be having an affair. With Sheila’s mother.

By the middle of the book, Neill doesn't feel he can even trust his brother, the man who helped raise him, about anything. And then his brother becomes a suspect in the woman's death.

See, being gay doesn't keep you from having all sorts of issues. It may be an added problem, but not THE problem. To give you a chance for a good look at Neill Mallory, here is an excerpt from Minority of One. This scene takes place shortly after he and his boyfriend Carl have broken up.

I have to write a poem, an ode to spring. I even skipped my morning run so I could plant my butt in the library early and write.

An empty piece of paper stares up at me.

Make me dissect a frog or explain photosynthesis—no sweat. Math—I can solve an exponential faster than the teacher can write the equation. Even history. Give me a date. Any date.

But English? Poetry?

My brain feels like an Icee, all cold and slow.

I write:

Life sucks.

And not in a nice way.                                            

My grade has just gone from zero to negative territory, unless the teacher throws me a couple of pity points. I crumple the paper and toss it at the wastebasket. It hits the wall before landing with a thud on the floor.

There is a good reason why I don’t play ball sports.

Someone bends down and picks up the paper. Someone wearing black pants and a black jacket covering wickedly broad shoulders and a solid chest.

Carl.

“Hey,” he says in a raspy voice.

Hallucination. Has to be. They frequently accompany depression.

Swear to God, I thought I was handling things.

The first time we met, Carl was the shy one, the poster boy for schmuck. The guy who wouldn’t look you in the eye, a magnet for punks out to show how tough they were. I put my arm around his shoulders to let him know he was with friends.

My sweater scratches me and looks bulky and shapeless. It’s the same one I wore the day he told me, I can’t do this anymore. His eyes were wide and so dark they were almost black instead of the chocolate I fell for a year ago. Eyes that kept blinking when he told me we weren’t a we anymore.

 

Did I forget to mention that nine years ago I wrote romance? See, I believe LGBTQ+ characters deserve love too, along with the occasional heartbreak to be resolved by the story's end because Carl and Neill are made for each other. 

Learn more about B.A. Binns' on her website http://www.babinns.com/