You sing a cowboy song to a desert sky / And you fall asleep wondering where I lie (Forever is Just a Day – Hurray for the Riff Raff).
Before I start, I should probably mention that I know that this book doesn’t technically have a shirtless man on the cover… but I’m certainly picturing him shirtless. That counts by my criteria! I just thought I’d clear that by the straw-man I’m arguing with in my head. With that out of the way, I can finally say that this book was fine. Hm, well that was a bit anti-climactic. Oh well. I don’t have anything against it or anything quite so dramatic, but speaking of the cover, I think it’s actually kind of indicative of some of the issues I had with the overall tone to the story. What does this book want to be? Because I think it tries too hard to strike a balance between being this quasi-melancholic story with a happy ending about finding a home, and then having to adhere to the prerequisites of books with these kinds of covers by being super-duper horny. I don’t know, I just think it’s a little silly when you try to tell this incredibly sentimental and meaningful story while also constantly peppering in sentences like “It didn’t take me long to spurt my jizz all over my stomach.” and “Christ, it sucked to walk around with a boner all the time and not be able to do anything about it.” I believe they call that a mood whiplash. Yeehaw! I’m a little disappointed because I really did think that the story could have been very lovely, and it probably would have literally been perfect for me if it had just learned how to pick a lane. Because otherwise, I can’t say that I’m too happy with this mishmash that both doesn’t hit the mark of earnestness, and has a general lack of sex-appeal. It's got the worst of both worlds? I hate to say it (not really), but sometimes this book was like the literary equivalent of that Lin-Manuel Miranda lip-biting picture. Sorry book, that might be too mean. It's not like I even go into these things strictly looking for it be hot and steamy or whatever, but I think seeing covers that look like this alters my brain chemistry in particular way. Makes me want one thing when I should know better by now. Also, I had a hard time wrapping my head around why all these characters are even around each other all the time? I truly believe that the best kind of stories are where a lot of people who don't get along are forced into proximity with each other, but it didn't seem realistic to me that these people would all still be in contact. I know they have a daughter, but them constantly hanging around each other was odd to me. The whole "We're still family" excuse has always been one of my biggest pet-peeves. Yeah, I guess that Kerry’s relationship with his ex-wife is supposed to seem subversive and mature, but I just thought it was weird. I’d put on my thinking cap on to, you know, think on it some more, but I'm too tired to care that much. I kept telling everyone that they should just leave. But then again, that's my solution to everything.
Anyway, like I said, I really did enjoy the story a lot. Or at least I really tried to, because I’m sad to admit that I was probably bored more often than not. I mean, once I got into a certain rhythm everything was cool. It was to the point I was actually a little concerned with how fast I was reading, because I definitely wouldn’t describe myself as a speed reader. Did I finally get into the groove, or was I was just going through the motions? I guess you could say… heh… that I was bookin’ it. Heh heh. You know how people are always saying “once you learn how to ride a bike, you can never unlearn it?” Yeah well, my ability to forget things should never be underestimated. I forgot the names of characters, I forgot which pov I was following (they were pretty similar), and if I were completely honest… I can already feel myself forgetting this book as a whole. Oh no, it’s already fading from my memory like Back to the Future! Tragic, I know. Nothing stuck to the walls of my brain, unfortunately. Alright, that’s enough negativity. I’ll have mercy and pretend like I’m writing a conclusion to an essay and get real serious for once. I will say that I do hold quite a bit of affection for this book, no matter how contradictory that sounds. The thing is, I always get a little emotional when I read or watch any kind of “gay western” type of story. I can’t help but think back to Brokeback Mountain, and how this beautiful, heartbreaking story was turned into something people should be ashamed of watching. I think it’s important to look at the historical context that these kinds of stories exist in, because while it’s no lie that my memory’s not the greatest, I certainly remember that it wasn’t all that long ago when this genre was a laughing stock, only existing to be mercilessly mocked and jeered at. The word “gay” became worse than a dirty word, it was made into a joke. Ha ha, laughing at their happiness, their pain, their love. Because queer folk don’t get to be real people with real stories; they get to be the punchline. I guess what I’m trying to say is that we’ve come a lo~ong way, and even though I spent all this time clowning on it, just by this book existing as is, I can't help but adore it. Just be you, man. Be you. Yeah so, this definitely isn’t my first rodeo with the genre, and I'm damn sure it won’t be my last.
"I fucking hated the constant guilt I was living under. And for what?"