With the revelation that the shooter in the horrendous Orlando atrocity may have been a closeted homosexual, despite all the progress made in LGBTQ civil rights in the last decade, entrenched homophobia still pervades our country. A possible antidote may lie in Chris McCormick. McCormick is the author of a new stellar work of fiction, Desert Boys , which has engendered praise in all quarters of the literary world, including the B.A.R. His series of intertwining short stories (he prefers the term fragmented novel) is set an hour north of Los Angeles in Antelope Valley, a working-class town near the Mojave Desert. The main character, Kush, is coming to terms with being gay and deciding whether to stay or leave Antelope Valley. McCormick, visiting SF for a book signing/reading, sat down with the B.A.R. When asked what role does gay sexuality play in your creativity, he answered, "I am not gay, and Desert Boys is fiction."
Because of the genuineness of Kush, most reviewers and initially even his publisher assumed McCormick was gay, which he considers a great compliment. "I grew up where there was only one openly gay person in Antelope Valley, and he was my best friend. People thinking I'm gay I hope reflects the authenticity of the character, that I've captured him accurately. Because I would not abandon or openly disassociate with my best friend, everyone in town thought I was gay, too. So I had access to this invisible othering, which impacted me even if I wasn't officially gay." McCormick felt like an outsider because he wasn't what others in town felt a man should be. "I grew up like Kush, in a place where there is a correct way to be a man, so living where you are failing to perform that role or, worse, internalizing this thinking by performing a version of yourself that isn't honest to who you are, that anxiety plagued me as a kid. Not being the man people expected me to be gave me empathy for gays and lesbians. My sister happens to be a lesbian, and there is tension in my family. My mother is hard on my sister, but is fine with other people being whoever they want to be, which is a test of where you are on this issue, as you may not come out looking as progressive or thoughtful as you claimed."
McCormick didn't set out to create a gay character or a gay book. "I was writing about these two boys and exploring the dynamic they had, what was going on between them. In the first story they are playing paintball and it is an erotic situation where they are pointing guns at each other face to face, which mirrors the kiss Kush gives to his best friend Karinger at the end of the story."
In addition to hanging out with his GBF, McCormick was "bookish, a skinny kid who walked on his toes," so he just assumed the gay label already imposed upon him. "I was bullied, called all kinds of names, though not enough to want to leave school. There was a long stretch of my childhood into adolescence when I asked myself, are they right, am I gay? But as I matured, it didn't feel right and I never had a gay sexual experience, which may sound like a cop-out. Still there was something beyond friendship with my GBF, it was us against the world. This attitude, as well as sharing in the gay pain of being ostracized, gave me fodder for my book. Over time we stopped taking being called gay as an insult. I was proud to be loyal to my friend. I used this empathy to build myself into the kind of man I wanted to be, then let my imagination fill in the gaps to create Kush."
No one has reacted negatively once they found out McCormick is not gay. "I was worried from both sides, with conservative friends wondering that if I could have written anything, why would I choose this topic, and the left could accuse me of appropriating and exploiting a story that wasn't mine. I was aware of the risks but I trusted myself, not molding Kush into representing any experience except his own, paying attention to the place, the scene of his development. Any attempt to be who you really are is a universally shared struggle, which all people can relate to."
McCormick says Antelope Valley, while generally not welcoming of gay people, is changing quickly. "When I was there recently, I observed a new section of the downtown with a younger, more accepting crowd. I saw gay couples holding hands in the hotel, the first time I ever noticed that. While I'm sure they get looks and comments, it is still visibility, which seems like progress."
Both his GBF and sister loved the book and were moved by it, seeing it as a tribute to their friendship. "The desire to get it right makes up for any icky feelings about my sexuality. The last thing I wanted was to trick anyone or to dupe my publisher into buying the book." It is reassuring that there is something appealing in the LGBT experience that speaks to a straight man. In his desire to embrace exclusion and otherness, he achieves in his writing solidarity with the LGBTQ community, which in these post-Orlando shooting days, gives a glimmer of hope of getting along in spite of so much hatred.