Tricks
4/5
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About this ebook
When all choice is taken from you, life becomes a game of survival.
Five teenagers from different parts of the country. Three girls. Two guys. Four straight. One gay. Some rich. Some poor. Some from great families. Some with no one at all. All living their lives as best they can, but all searching…for freedom, safety, community, family, love. What they don’t expect, though, is all that can happen when those powerful little words “I love you” are said for all the wrong reasons.
Five moving stories remain separate at first, then interweave to tell a larger, powerful story—a story about making choices, taking leaps of faith, falling down, and growing up. A story about kids figuring out what sex and love are all about, at all costs, while asking themselves, “Can I ever feel okay about myself?”
A brilliant achievement from New York Times bestselling author Ellen Hopkins—who has been called “the bestselling living poet in the country” by Mediabistro.com—Tricks is a book that turns you on and repels you at the same time. Just like so much of life.
Ellen Hopkins
Ellen Hopkins is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of numerous young adult novels, as well as the adult novels such as Triangles, Collateral, and Love Lies Beneath. She lives with her family in Carson City, Nevada, where she has founded Ventana Sierra, a nonprofit youth housing and resource initiative. Follow her on Twitter at @EllenHopkinsLit.
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Reviews for Tricks
355 ratings19 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book didn't disappoint. Ellen Hopkins I must say is one of my favorite authors. She makes readers experience and understand that horrible things that really do occur in our society though we try so hard to ignore this. But the more that we don't acknowledge that there is a problem the more we feed it to become even bigger. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone though it can become quite intense.
Many of Hopkins books helps me understand why some of the people I know go through their addiction and that it could be anyone around me. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Positively heartbreaking and absolutely worth reading & re-reading. I love Ellen Hopkins and her books never fail to create haunting and fantastic pictures. They never ever lack feeling and Tricks is no exception to that. I feel like shes giving these poor children who have to go through such things a real voice. Very powerful. I cried several times throughout this book. There can never be enough good things to be said about this book, but the only thing you really need to know about it is that no matter how old you are you HAVE to read this book.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book was good, but in a way didn't have much life to it. The characters weren't as developed as I'd have liked them too, and maybe that's because it was the story of 5 different teenagers, but regardless, when they cried, I didn't cry; When they laughed, I didn't laugh. It's not Ellen Hopkins best book, but it had a good message, and at the end, in the author's note, the statistic that she gave about teenage prostitution - that the average age is 12 years old - that was scary, and it is probably one of the most shocking things I have ever read.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book was quite explicit. A lot more so than I thought it was going to be. But the stories behind it triumphs the explicit. It is about 5 people who find the most innocent type of love and end up in the worst kind of 'love'. It shows how each of these five people's lives intertwine by fate and love.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book was really good! In the beginning, I couldn't quite figure out who's who. I mean the book is divided into different people. Eden, Seth, Whitney, Ginger and Cody. But then after I while, I kind of got use to it. This book is really interesting. Eden lives in a religous family, but falls in love with a boy, Andrew, that she's not suppose to. Seth is gay. He loves Loren, but he can't tell his dad, because he believes that gay people are evil. Whitney loves Lucas. She lives in a house where her mom loves her sister way more than her, and her dad is never home. Ginger lives in a house with 6 siblings, and a hooker for a mom. The only person she cares about is her grams. And finally, Cody loves Ronnie. He has a good life, with a loving mom, good step-dad and a brother. Soon their lives with intertwine a bit, and the book gets really amazing!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is confusing at the beginning. There are so many characters to keep up with; Eden, Whitney, Ginger, Seth and Cody. All of them starting off with their own individual problems. The cool thing about this book is that their problems all become related and a few of the characters help each other out. The strongest character by far means would be Ginger who ended up helping most of the characters in the book while she dealt with her own rejection. The book is really moving when you can see the love that builds up through these children as they discover who they really are. Ellen Hopkins does a great job of getting the story across. I don't really suggest that most teenagers read this, even though Hopkins wants the theme to get across to teenagers, but the book is a little intense. A little to intense for 13 or 14 even 15 year olds to read. It seems as if the books should be for adults. It was good don't get me wrong, but very heart tearing and overwhelming.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I was skeptical of this book because of the fact that it was written in free verse. But it makes no difference. (if anything, it adds to the story) the characters are well developed. Each of them in their own messed up situation.... here's an overview of the characters that I emailed to a friend:POOR SETH! *snivel* his boyfriend has to leave for the summer and then never comes back and so Seth hooks up for a one night stand with some gay, well dressed, fifty-year-old named Carl (who is also a little possessive considering his last BF) A-and Eden, her parents find out about Andrew and they're so religious and she's the only one in the story who has a boyfriend who actually loves her. Ginger is probably gonna run away with Alex, even though she has five brothers and sisters who she has to take care of, being the oldest with a hooker mom who doesn't give a crap. (but Ginger and Alex are a really cute couple, even though they should both quit smoking) Cody should get out of his relationship right away. Whats-her-face is a total b*tch. And he should quit gambling. And Whitney was just dumped and my makes the worst mistake of her life hooking up with a guy that was stalking her. And then getting addicted to heroin.Yeah, Whitney and Cody are my least favorite characters...... most favorite characters..... Seth and Ginger I guess. But even though she's a minor character, Alex is awesome XDGreat, great, great book. Angsty.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This book is about five teenagers looking/finding love how i love you can mean different things to different people.I(living in one of the top 5 cities of the sex industry) was very pleased with this book. The sex industry is out there and this book will help be more aware of whats around you.Some people are forced, some look at it as a last option, and others just find their way into it. It also shows you the consequences of your actions.This book is severely realistic to the point were it shook me to the core. Things that happened in this book happens in really life more than we realize. This is a huge problem and i think that everyone should read this book to know a little bit more about the industry.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This is another great book from Ms. Hopkins that left me speechless. Not only did it give me a whole new insight, but it gave something new to think about. I never thought that sex trafficking as a big deal. After reading this book, I now realize that this is not talk about enough.As always, this book I recommend for ages 18+. If you are a mature reader, then you can read this. While this book is not meant to be pretty, Ms. Hopkins really gets into the gist of things, not hiding anything. I love that Ms. Hopkins wrote this book fully, not holding anything back. She stories that she tells from different point of views will make you cringe as well as fight for these people.I also liked how Ms. Hopkins gave a variety of characters, so the reader sees everything. After reading this book, I just wanted to cry. My heart ached so much! All of the different stories in this book happened every day in America right under our noses. It makes me angry and sad that not everyone can get the help that they need.If you really want know, I mean REALLY want to know what sex trafficking is like, read this book. You feel the characters hurt, anger, rage, at what is happening to them. You as the reader feel helpless and powerless to stop it. You must read this book in order to know what I am talking about.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5NOTE: I read this via audio bookI was quite taken with this book - it was quite compelling, raw and intense. The book covers 5 teenagers from different places, with different issues (family, background, etc) who all end up prostituting themselves. I understand that the book was written in verse but there was a very 'novel' feel to the audio book - each voice was different for each character which was nice and added to each individual stories. Although some of the voices were less effective than others, I wasn't bothered by any of them too much. Each character comes to life at Hopkins' hands - they live, breath and elicit emotion from the reader as we follow their journey into prostitution. The material and circumstances of the book are harrowing, difficult to read and extremely thought provoking. I've continued to think about these characters and their stories after finishing the book which is always a great sign of a compelling read.This is an excellent YA book that I think all older teens (15 and older, in my opinion) should have the opportunity to read. It really gets to the heart of how just one choice (seemingly insignificant at the time) can result in a spiraling of events that can change a life forever.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Have you ever had to make a decision, that would change your life and the lives of your loved ones? Have you ever been in a situation, where you feel everything and everyone is against you? Well, this is what these five teenagers are facing. Ellen Hopkins' novel, Tricks, explores the lives of five troubled teenagers in such a powerful way, it will leave you shocked for many days to come. Eden Streit is a girl, who is forced to live the way her parents want her to live. Her parents are against dating and love, and when they find out their daughter was with a guy named Andrew. She is forced to live at Tears of Zion ( a place for corrupted teenagers ). Seth Parnell is gay and he struggles everyday to keep that a secret from his father. When the truth is out, Seth's father can not except it and forces him to live on his own. Now Seth has to make a decision that will change his life forever. Whitney Lang is a popular girl. She is used to having things she wants, but not the attention she desires. When she hooks up with a popular guy, she is very happy, but when the relationship ends, she is left with anger. That anger drives her in a rebellious direction, that she will soon regret. Ginger Cordell's life has always been filled with drugs. Her mother has six kids, with five different fathers. The only person she truly cares for is her grand-mother, but when things get really hard, Ginger can't take it anymore. She decides on running away with her friend. Cody Bennet's life was a good one, until his step-father died and everything changed. Now he has to take care of his brother Cory and his mother. Money was a big problem and the only option Cody could see was gambling. Five teenagers from different parts of the country. Their moving stories remain seperate at first, but then interweave to a tell a larger, powerful story. A story about making choices, taking leaps of faith, falling down, and growing up. Will they find the little light that is left in their souls? Or will they surrender to the darkness, that is the devil. Ellen Hopkins has put light in some very challenging subjects. There are lots of twists and turns throughout the book, that leave you wanting more. This is a book for those who enjoy their poetry, but it is very revealing on many topics, that may not be so suitable for younger readers. Overall, Tricks is a great read.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Ellen Hopkins writes a heartbreaking story of how five young people hear 'I love you' for all the wrong reasons. In this book, readers are told how reaching rock bottom is much easier than one may have thought. I defintley recommend this book to everyone, most defintley a favorite Ellen Hopkins book of mine, for sure.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5wow! thsi book was very very amazing and disturbing the story that made me the most sad was edens. but this book is good and tells a lot about teen prostitution.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Once again I actually love how some of these end on an uncertain lingering note. It's much better than wrapping things up with a happily ever after for everyone because that's just how reality works. Not everyone can have a happy ending, not everyone finds a way out. Yes it's sad to see that happens, but it just makes us feel more grateful for what we have. We're only left hoping for the best for these characters and people out there in the real world going through the same struggles.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Tricks is a story of 5 teenagers, Eden, Cody, Seth, Ginger, and Whitney, whose lives have caused them to start working some sort of prostitution setting. Each individual has their own story to tell, and sometimes their paths cross which I thought was really interesting. Something I noticed was a common spelling mistake throughout the book. When they would spell shirt, it would come out shift. I don’t know if it was supposed to be meant to say shift and it’s just another word for shirt, but it was odd and in places made no sense. I noticed a few small errors here and there but for the most part it wasn’t too bad.We see their lives go from not so perfect, to complete and utter disaster. Hopkins Knows how to tell a story and keep people entertained. The book had me constantly wanting to read it. I would read for short bursts and have to put it down because of class, and I wouldn’t want to put it down, just keep reading to find out what’s going to happen next.This book is a fast read, and it does leave me wanting more to find out how their lives all turned out after and what happened, but with any book I’m always left to wonder. I love when that happens that way I can just make it up in my head, sometimes it’s better to not know and leave things alone. That way the story will remain the same no matter what and it won’t loose its luster.Tricks is a great story, however a bit graphic in it’s sexual description to be a young adult novel. That was something I noticed in especially Cody’s story. Not that I’m saying sex in a young adult novel is bad, I just think it could have been a little more subtle than what it was. Regardless of that, Tricks was still fantastic, and I can’t wait for the next Ellen Hopkins novel!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Tricks is another prose poetry novel sure to be a hit with Ellen Hopkins fans. Rather than telling one story, it follows five teens on their individual odysseys in a downward spiral into prostitution where they all wind up in Las Vegas and their stories converge in a way. They all come from different places and circumstances: Ginger’s mother is a prostitute but they live with her grandmother; Seth lives on a farm; Whitney comes from a privileged background. Each individual’s downfall occurs for different reasons from poor choices to family problesm: Seth is thrown out because he is gay; Eden is thrown out because she falls in love with someone who is not born again; Cody falls deeply in debt from gambling. Each story unfolds inexorably until they all hit their own rock bottom. The stories are dark, bleak, often violent, and graphic. Given the subject matter, sex and drug use abound.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I'm a fan of Ellen Hopkins but this is not the best I've read from her. It's about five teenagers whose lives are indirectly connected; a lot more subtle than the characters from Impulse. Some connections are not even realized until there is only 100 pages left in the book. I read it waiting for the connections to happen and was a little disappointed. These five people have really messed up lives ... some it is caused by themselves while others were based on circumstance. This book deals with love, family, and sexuality. It pushes it's characters as far as they can go. This is one of the most depressing books I've read in a while. I understand why she wanted to tell these stories and I applaud her work but I just felt sad after reading this one. I like how Ellen Hopkins is very poetic in her writings and it's supposed to invoke emotions but after completing this book I was down for a couple of hours. The best parts of the book were the poems that introduces each character's chapter. This book is beautifully written but depressing. Also, confusing at first to distinguish between the characters but it gets easier as the book progresses. If you put it down don't be surprised if you have to backtrack in order to remember what has happened. I don't suggest this to be read by young readers due to some of it's explicit nature.
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- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This was honestly my least favorite of all Ellen Hopkins' books, but it was still captivating. Hopkins has a way with words that draw in the reader, and make them feel what the narrator is feeling. The characters' experiences come alive, and you can sense the emotions that are playing through each and every one of them. It shows a raw and in-your-face reality of what some adolescents actually go through in real life. I strongly recommend that everyone read at least one of Hopkins' books.
1 person found this helpful
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5The story of three different circumstances in which boys and girls turn to prostitution. Very upsetting.
Book preview
Tricks - Ellen Hopkins
A Poem by Eden Streit
Eyes Tell Stories
But do they know how
to craft fiction? Do
they know how to spin
lies?
His eyes swear forever,
flatter with vows of only
me. But are they empty
promises?
I stare into his eyes, as
into a crystal ball, but
I cannot find forever,
only
movies of yesterday,
a sketchbook of today,
dreams of a shared
tomorrow.
His eyes whisper secrets.
But are they truths or fairy tales?
I wonder if even he
knows.
Eden
Some People
Never find the right kind of love.
You know, the kind that steals
your breath away, like diving into snowmelt.
The kind that jolts your heart,
sets it beating apace, an anxious
hiccuping of hummingbird wings.
The kind that makes every terrible
minute apart feel like hours. Days.
Some people flit from one possibility
to the next, never experiencing the incredible
connection of two people, rocked by destiny.
Never knowing what it means to love
someone else more than themselves.
More than life itself, or the promise
of something better, beyond this world.
More, even (forgive me!) than God.
Lucky me. I found the right kind
of love. With the wrong person.
Not Wrong for Me
No, not at all. Andrew is pretty much
perfect. Not gorgeous, not in a male
model kind of way, but he is really cute,
with crazy hair that sometimes hides
his eyes, dark chocolate eyes that hold
laughter, even when he’s deadly serious.
He’s not a hunk, but toned, and tall enough
to effortlessly tuck me under his arms,
arms that are gentle but strong from honest
ranch work, arms that make me feel
safe when they gather me in. It’s the only
time I really feel wanted, and the absolute
best part of any day is when I manage
to steal cherished time with Andrew.
No, he’s not even a little wrong for me
except maybe—maybe!—in the eyes
of God. But much, much worse than that,
he’s completely wrong for my parents.
See, My Papa
Is a hellfire-and-brimstone-preaching
Assembly of God minister, and Mama
is his not-nearly-as-sweet-as-she-seems
right-hand woman, and by almighty God,
their daughters (that’s me, Eden, and my
little sister, Eve—yeah, no pressure at all)
will toe the Pentecostal line. Sometimes
Eve and I even pretend to talk in tongues,
just to keep them believing we’re heaven-
bound, despite the fact that we go to public school
(Mama’s too lazy to homeschool) and come
face-to-face with the unsaved every day.
But anyway, my father and mother
maintain certain expectations when
it comes to their daughters’ all-too-human
future plans and desires.
Papa: Our daughters will find
husbands within their faith.
Mama: Our daughters will not
date until they’re ready to marry.
You Get My Dilemma
I’m definitely not ready to marry,
so I can’t risk letting them know
I’m already dating, let alone dating
a guy who isn’t born-again, and even
worse, doesn’t believe he needs to be.
Andrew is spiritual, yes. But religious?
Religion is for followers, he told
me once. Followers and puppets.
At my stricken look, he became not
quite apologetic. Sorry. But I don’t
need some money-grubbing preacher
defining my relationship with God.
At the time, I was only half in love
with Andrew and thought I needed
definitions. "What, exactly, is your
relationship with our Heavenly Father?"
He gently touched my cheek, smiled.
First off, I don’t think God is a guy.
Some Old Testament–writing fart
made that up to keep his old lady
in line. He paused, then added, Why
would God need a pecker, anyway?
Yes, he enjoyed the horrified look
on my face. More laughter settled
into those amazing eyes, creasing
them at the corners. So sexy!
Anyway, I relate to God in a very
personal way. Don’t need anyone
to tell me how to do it better. I see
His hand everywhere—in red sunrises
and orange sunsets; in rain, falling
on thirsty fields; in how a newborn
lamb finds his mama in the herd. I thank
God for these things. And for you.
After that, I was a lot more than
halfway in love with Andrew.
The Funny Thing Is
We actually met at a revival, where nearly
everyone was babbling in tongues,
or getting a healthy dose of Holy Spirit
healing. Andrew’s sister, Mariah, had
forsaken her Roman Catholic roots
in favor of born-again believing and had
dragged her brother along that night,
hoping he’d find salvation. Instead
he found me, sitting in the very back
row, half grinning at the goings-on.
He slid into an empty seat beside me.
So . . . , he whispered. Come here often?
I hadn’t noticed him come in, and when
I turned to respond, my voice caught
in my throat. Andrew was the best-looking
guy to ever sit next to me,
let alone actually say something to me.
In fact, I didn’t know they came that cute
in Idaho. A good ten seconds passed before
I realized he had asked a question.
"I . . . uh . . . well, yes, in fact I come here
fairly regularly. See the short guy up there?"
I pointed toward Papa, who kept the crowd
chanting and praying while the visiting evangelist
busily laid on his hands. "He’s the regular
preacher and happens to be my father."
Andrew’s jaw fell. He looked back and
forth, Papa to me. You’re kidding, right?
His consternation surprised me. "No,
not kidding. Why would you think so?"
He measured me again. It’s just . . . you look
so normal, and this . . . He shook his head.
I leaned closer to him, and for the first
time inhaled his characteristic scent—
clean and somehow green, like the alfalfa
fields I later learned he helps work for cash.
I dropped my voice very low. "Promise not
to tell, but I know just what you mean."
It Was a Defining Moment
For me, who had never dared confess
that I have questioned church dogma
for quite some time, mostly because I am
highly aware of hypocrisy and notice
it all too often among my father’s flock.
I mean, how can you claim to walk
in the light of the Lord when you’re
cheating on your husband or stealing
from your best friend/business partner?
Okay, I’m something of a cynic.
But there was more that evening—instant
connection, to a guy who on the surface
was very different from me. And yet,
we both knew instinctively that we needed
something from each other. Some people might
call it chemistry—two parts hydrogen,
one part oxygen, voilà! You’ve got water.
A steady trickle, building to a cascade.
If Andrew
Was the poser type, things would
probably be easier. I mean, if he could
pretend to accept the Lord into his heart,
on my father’s strictest of terms, maybe
we could be seen together in public—not
really dating, of course. Not without a ring.
But Andrew is the most honest person
I’ve ever met, and deadly honest that night.
Did you have to come to this thing?
It seems kind of, um . . . theatrical.
We had slipped out the back door,
when everyone’s attention turned to
some unbelievable miracle at the front
of the church. I smiled. "Theatrical.
That sums it up pretty well, I guess.
You probably couldn’t see it in back, but . . ."
I glanced around dramatically, whispered,
Brother Bradley even wears makeup!
Andrew laughed warmly. So why do
you come, then? Pure entertainment?
I shrugged. "Certain expectations are
attached to the ‘pastor’s daughter’ job
description. Easier just to meet them, or
at least pretend they don’t bother you."
It was early November, and the night wore
a chill. I shivered at the nip in the air,
or at the sudden magnetic pull I felt toward
this perfect stranger. Without a second
thought, Andrew took off his leather
jacket, eased it around my shoulders.
Cool tonight, he observed. All
the signs point to a hard winter.
He was standing very close to me.
I sank into that earthy green aura, looked
up into his eyes. "You don’t believe in
miracles, but you do believe in signs?"
His eyes didn’t stray an inch. Who
says I don’t believe in miracles?
They happen every day. And I think
we both knew that one just might have.
It Was Unfamiliar Turf
I mean, of course I’d thought guys were cute
before, and the truth is, I’d even kissed
a few. But they’d all been kiss and run,
and none had come sprinting back for seconds.
Probably because most of the guys here
at Boise High know who my father is.
But Andrew went to Borah High, clear
across town, and he graduated last year.
He’s a freshman at Boise State, where his mom
teaches feminist theory. Yes, she and his rancher
dad make an odd couple. Love is like that.
Guess where his progressive theories came from.
That makes him nineteen, all the more reason
we have to keep our relationship discreet.
In Idaho, age of consent is eighteen,
and my parents wouldn’t even think
twice about locking him up for statutory.
That horrible thought has crossed my mind
more than once in the four months since
Andrew decided to take a chance on me.
Four Months
Of him coming to church with Mariah,
both of us patiently wading through Papa’s
sermons, then waiting for post-services coffee
hours to slip separately out the side doors, into
the thick stand of riverside trees for a walk.
Conversation. After a while, we held hands
as we ducked in between the old cottonwoods,
grown skeletal with autumn. We joked about
how soon we’d have to bring our own leaves
for cover. And then one day Andrew stopped.
He pleated me into his arms, burrowed his face
in my hair, inhaled. Smells like rain, he said.
My heart quickstepped. He wanted to kiss
me. That scared me. What if I wasn’t good?
His lips brushed my forehead, the pulse
in my right temple. Will I burn if I kiss you?
I was scared, but not of burning, and I wanted
that kiss more than anything I’d ever wanted
in my life. "Probably. And I’ll burn with you.
But it will be worth it." I closed my eyes.
It was cold that morning, maybe thirty
degrees. But Andrew’s lips were feverish
against mine. It was the kiss in the dream
you never want to wake up from—sultry,
fueled by desire, and yet somehow innocent,
because brand-new, budding love was the heart
of our passion. Andrew lifted me gently
in his sinewy arms, spun me in small circles,
lips still welded to mine. I’d never known
such joy, and it all flowed from Andrew.
And when we finally stopped, I knew
my life had irrevocably changed.
Day by Day
I’ve grown to love him more and more.
Now, though I haven’t dared confess
it yet, I’m forever and ever in love with
him. After I tell him (if I ever find the nerve),
I’ll have to hide it from everyone. Boise,
Idaho, isn’t very big. Word gets around.
Can’t even tell Eve. She’s awful about
keeping secrets. Good thing she goes to
middle school, where she isn’t privy
to what happens here at Boise High.
I’m sixteen, a junior. A year and a half,
and I’ll be free to do whatever I please.
For now, I’m sneaking off to spend
a few precious minutes with Andrew.
I duck out the exit, run down the steps,
hoping I don’t trip. Last thing I need
is an emergency room visit when I’m
supposed to be in study hall. Around one
corner. Two. And there’s his Tundra across
the street, idling at the curb. He spots me
and even from here, I can see his face
light up. Glance left. No one I know.
Right. Ditto. No familiar faces or cars.
I don’t even wait for the corner,
but jaywalk midblock at a furious
pace, practically dive through the door
and across the seat, barely saying hello
before kissing Andrew like I might
never see him again. Maybe that’s because
always, in the back of my mind, I realize
that’s a distinct possibility, if we’re ever
discovered kissing like this. One other
thought branded into my brain is that maybe
kissing like this will bring God’s almighty wrath
crashing down all around us. I swear, God,
it’s not just about the delicious electricity
coursing through my veins. It’s all about love.
And you are the source of that, right? Amen.
A Poem by Seth Parnell
Possibilities
As a child, I was wary,
often felt cornered.
To escape, I regularly
stashed myself
in the closet,
comforted by curtains
of cotton. Silk. Velour.
Avoided wool, which
encouraged my
itching
the ever-present rashes
on my arms, legs. My skin
reacted to secrets, lies,
and taunts by wanting
to break out.
Now I hide behind
a wall of silence, bricked
in by the crushing
desire to confess,
but afraid of
my family’s reaction.
Fearful I don’t have
the strength to survive
the fallout.
Seth
As Far Back
As I can remember,
I have known that
I was different. I think
I was maybe five
when I decided that.
I was the little boy
who liked art projects
and ant farm tending
better than riding bikes
or playing army rangers.
Not easy, coming from
a long line of farmers and
factory workers. Dad’s big
dream for his only son has
always been tool and die.
My dream is liberal arts,
a New Agey university.
Berkeley, maybe. Or,
even better, San Francisco.
But that won’t happen.
Not with Mom Gone
She was the one who
supported my escape
plan. You reach for your
dreams, she said. Factory
work is killing us all.
Factory work may
have jump-started it,
but it was cancer that
took my mom, one year
and three months ago.
At least she didn’t
have to find out about
me. She loved me, sure,
with all her heart. Wanted
me to be happy, with all her
heart. But when it came to
sex, she was all Catholic
in her thinking. Sex was
for making babies, and only
after marriage. I’ll never forget
what she said when my cousin
Liz got pregnant. She was just
sixteen and her boyfriend hauled
his butt out of town, all the way
to an army base in Georgia.
Mom got off the phone with
Aunt Josie, clucking like a hen.
Who would have believed
our pretty little Liz would
grow up to be such a whore?
I thought that was harsh,
and told her so. She said,
flat out, Getting pregnant
without getting married first
makes her a whore in God’s eyes.
I knew better than to argue
with Mom, but if she felt
that strongly about unmarried
sex, no way could I ever let
her know about me, suffer
the disgrace that would have
followed. Beyond Mom,
Indiana’s holier-than-thou
conservatives hate fags
almost
as much as those freaks in Kansas
do—the ones who picket dead
soldiers’ funerals, claiming
their fate was God’s way of
getting back at gays. How in
the hell are the two things related?
And Anyway
If God were inclined
to punish someone
just for being the way
he created them, it would
be punishment enough
to insert that innocent
soul inside the womb
of a native Indianan.
These cornfields and
gravel roads are no place
for someone like me.
Considering almost every
guy I ever knew growing up
is a total jock, with no plans
for the future but farming
or assembly-line work,
it sure isn’t easy to fit in
at school, even without
overtly jumping out of
that frigging closet.
I can’t even tell Dad,
though I’ve come very
close a couple of times,
in response to his totally
cliché homophobic views:
Bible says God made
Adam and Eve, not Adam
and Steve, and no damn
bleeding-heart liberal
gonna tell me different.
Most definitely not this
bleeding-heart liberal.
Of course, Dad has no clue
that’s what I am. Or have
become. Because of who
I am, all the way inside,
the biggest part of me,
the part I need to hide.
Wonder what he’d say
if I told him the first person
to recognize what I am
was a priest. Father Howard
knew. Took advantage, too.
Maybe I’ll confess it all
to Dad someday. But not
while he’s still grieving
over Mom. I am too.
And if I lost my dad
because of any of this, I really
don’t know what I’d do.
So I Keep the Real Seth
Mostly hidden away.
It is spring, a time of hope,
locked in the rich loam
we till and plant. Corn.
Maize. The main ingredient
in American ethanol,
the fuel of the future, and
so it fuels our dreams. It’s
a cold March day, but the sun
threatens to thaw me,
like it has started to thaw
the ground. The big John
Deere has little trouble
tugging the tiller, turning
the soil, readying it for seed.
I don’t mind this work.
There’s something satisfying
about the submission, dirt
to churning blades. Submission,
yes, and almost as ancient
as the submission of one
beast, throat up to another.
One human, facedown
to another. And always,
always another, hungering.
Hunger
Drives the beast, human
or otherwise, and it is
the essence of humanity.
Hunger for food. Power.
Sex. All tangled together.
It was hunger that made
me post a personal ad
on the Internet. Hunger
for something I knew
I could never taste here.
Hunger that put me on
the freeway to Louisville,
far away enough to promise
secrecy unattainable at home.
Hunger that gave me
the courage to knock on
a stranger’s door. Looking
back, I realize the danger.
But then I felt invincible.
Or maybe just starved.
I’d Dated Girls, of Course
Trying to convince
myself the attraction
toward guys I’d always felt
was just a passing thing.
Satan, luring me with
the promise of a penis.
I’d even fallen for a female.
Janet Winkler was dream-girl
pretty and sweeter than
just-turned apple cider.
But love and sexual desire
don’t always go hand in hand.
Luckily, Janet wasn’t looking
to get laid, which worked out
just fine. After a while,
though, I figured I should
be looking to get laid, like
every other guy my age. So
why did the thought of sex
with Janet—who I believed
I loved, even—not turn
me on one bit? Worse, why
did the idea of sex with her
Neanderthal jock big brother
turn me on so completely?
Not that Leon Winkler
is particularly special.
Not good-looking. Definitely
not the brightest bulb in the
socket. What he does have
going on is a fullback’s
physique. Pure muscle.
(That includes inside his
two-inch-thick skull.) I’d catch
myself watching his butt,
thinking it was perfect.
Something not exactly
hetero about that. Weird
thing was, that didn’t
bother me. Well, except for
the idea someone might
notice how my eyes often
fell toward the rhythm
of his exit. I never once
lusted for Janet like that.
I tried to let her down
easy. Gave her the ol’
It’s not you, it’s me
routine. But breaking up
is never an easy thing.
Not Easy for Janet
Who never saw it coming.
When I told her, she looked
as if she’d been run over
by a bulldozer. But you
told me you love me.
I do love you,
I said.
"But things are, well . . .
confusing right now. You
know my mom is sick. . . ."
Can’t believe I used
her cancer as an excuse
to try and smooth things
over. And it worked, to
a point, anyway. At least
it gave Janet something
to hold on to. I know, Seth.
But don’t you think you
need someone to . . . ?
The denial in my eyes
spoke clearly. She tried
another tactic, sliding
her arms around my neck,
seeking to comfort me. Then
she kissed me, and it was
a different kind of kiss
than any we’d shared
before. Swollen with desire.
Demanding. Lips still locked
to mine, she murmured, What
if I give you this . . . ?
Her hand found my own,
urged it along her body’s
contours, all the way to
the place between her legs,
the one I had never asked for.
To be honest, I thought
about doing it. What if it
cured my confusion after all?
In the heat of the moment,
I even got hard, especially
when Janet touched me,
dropped onto her knees,
lowered my zipper, started
to do what I never suspected
she knew how to do. Yes . . .
No! Shouldn’t . . . How . . . ?
The haze in my brain
cleared instantly, and I pushed
her away. No. I can’t,
was all I could say.
All Janet Could Say
Before she stalked off
was, Up yours! What are
you, anyway? Gay? Not
really expecting a response,
she pivoted sharply, went
in search of moral support.
So she never heard me say,
way under my breath, "Maybe
I am gay." It was time, maybe
past, to find out for sure.
But not in Perry County,
Indiana, where if you’re
not related to someone,
you know someone who
is. All fact here is rooted
in gossip, and gossip can
prove deadly. Like last year,
little Billy Caldwell told Nate
Fisher that he saw Nate’s mom
kissing some guy out back
of a tavern. Total lie, but
that didn’t help Nate’s mom
when Nate’s dad went looking
for her, with a loaded shotgun.
Caught up to her after Mass
Sunday morning, and when
he was done, that church
parking lot looked like a street
in Baghdad. After, Billy felt
kind of bad. But he blamed
Nate’s dad one hundred percent.
Not Nate, who took out
his grief on Billy’s hunting
dog. That hound isn’t much
good for hunting now, not
with an eye missing. Since
I’d really like to hang on
to both of my eyes and all
of my limbs, I figured I’d
better find my true self
somewhere other than Perry
County. Best way I could
think of was through the
be anyone you choose to be
possibilities of online dating.
Granted, One Possibility
Was hooking up with a creep—
a pervert, looking to spread
some incurable disease to some
poor, horny idiot. I met more
than one pervert, but I never
let them do me. Nope, horny
or not, I wasn’t an idiot. No
homosexual yokel, anxious
enough to get laid to let any
guy who swung the correct
direction into my jeans.
I wanted my first real sex
to be with the right guy. Someone
experienced enough to teach
me, but not humiliate me.
Someone good-looking.
Young. Educated. A good
talker, yes, but a good listener,
too. Someone maybe even
hoping to fall in love.
Incredibly
Unimaginably, Loren turned
out to be all those things,
and I found him in Louisville!
He opened my eyes to a wider
world, introduced me to the
avant-garde—performance art,
nude theater, alternative
lit. He gave me a taste
for caviar, pâté, excellent
California cabernet. After
years of fried chicken and
Pabst Blue Ribbon, such
adjustments could only be
born of love. Truthfully,
love was unexpected. I’ve
said it before, and I’ll repeat,
I didn’t fall out of the tree
yesterday. But that first day,
when Loren opened his door,
I took one look and fell
flat on my face. Figuratively,
of course. I barely stumbled
as I crossed the threshold—
into his apartment, and into
the certainty of who I am.
A Poem by Whitney Lang
Stumbling
I only have one question,
scraping the inside of me.
Answer it, and I will
stumble
back into her shadow.
Shut my mouth, never
ask again. I’ve tried to
ignore it, but it won’t go
away.
It haunts my dreams,
chases me through
every single day, and I
don’t
have the strength to
turn around. Face it
down. So please tell me
and I swear I’ll never
ask
again. It’s in your
power to make it go
away. And all you have
to do is tell me
why
you love her more.
Whitney
Living in Someone’s Shadow
Totally blows. Don’t get
me wrong. I love my sister.
Just not as much as my mother
loves her. Doesn’t matter how
hard I try, I can never quite
measure up to Kyra. I’m pretty.
She’s beautiful. I’m smart.
She’s a genius. I can sing
a tolerable alto. She’ll solo,
lead soprano, at the Met.
Mom’s own failed dreams
resurrected in Kyra.
And speaking of dreams,
mine are small. Shortsighted,
Mom calls them. Interior