The LA Blade sat down with Carter Wilson, novelist and anthropologist, to discuss his new novel “The Provider.”

Wilson is best known for his 1980s gay bestseller about a fictional photographer on the expedition where the Inca ruins at Machu Picchu were “discovered,” featuring a love story between the photographer and a Peruvian guide. With co-writer Judith Coburn, Wilson contributed Harvey Fierstein’s narration for the Oscar-winning documentary “The Times of Harvey Milk,” and wrote Dustin Hoffman’s narration for “Common Threads,” which also won an Academy Award. Wilson’s research on gay Mexico enabled him to help gay men seeking asylum in the U.S. as members of a persecuted minority.

Los Angeles Blade: What is your novel “The Provider” about?

Wilson: A married contractor approaching 40 decides to give in to his curiosity about casual sex with other men. When he meets a wealthy older man, he finds himself falling in love.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s special about your main character?

Wilson: Jake Guarani has always prided himself on being a sexually accomplished ladies’ man. In ten years of marriage, however, he has not cheated on his wife. He’s the “provider,” working hard in the construction business to take care of his family—something he’s both proud of and resents. Though brash and forthright, Jake also has his insecurities. Through friendship with a school pal, he was raised around North Shore of Chicago wealth, so the casual put-downs of his clients and co-workers hurt. At one level, “The Provider” is about how sex and class work together—or don’t.

Los Angeles Blade: Why did Jake wait so long before exploring his sexual interests in other men?

Wilson: The conventional demands of his life and profession kept him from allowing himself to think seriously about that side of himself. Now the internet has helped make hook-ups easier to arrange.

Los Angeles Blade: In the story of a “straight” guy’s affair with another “straight” guy, what will be of interest to people in the lesbian and gay community?

Wilson: Well, it’s a love story. Though it’s a cliché, in the past lesbian book people assured me that women were buying my fiction because they love a love story. How other people of any stripe manage the difficult waters of sex, relationship, and obsession is always a strong pull.

Los Angeles Blade: Where did the impulse to tell this particular story come from?

Wilson: From talking with married men who have sex with men about how they handle the complications, contradictions, and the fun.

Los Angeles Blade: About a quarter of the way into “The Provider,” the reader encounters a lot of graphic descriptions of sex between the two main characters. Why is this?

Wilson: Jake, my protagonist, is also a “provider” in the sense that he gets off on pleasing his partner. It is sexual hunger which brings him and the older guy together in motel rooms and then leads them along into something else. (I had a friend who used “motel” as a verb: “My cousin used to come by and motel me,” he would say.) The two men get to know each other primarily in these brief interactions. So I couldn’t go dot-dot-dot on the subject of bodies and hearts and minds when all three are in play.

Los Angeles Blade: Is it easy for you to write about sex?

Wilson: Ha! I started to say it’s not easy for me to write about anything, but after so many years at it, that’s not exactly true anymore. The hardest part of writing about sex is avoiding the clichés. They crop up all around. Equally hard is letting the reader feel the wonders which sometimes attach to the physical acts.

Los Angeles Blade: Is there really some distinction between “erotic writing” and porn?

Wilson: My friend Jay Cantor says erotic writing may just be “the higher porn.” The difference, however, is real. In a XXX movie, telling the pizza man you don’t have any change but you’d be glad to get horizontal with him in the bedroom might suffice. But it is just not enough for character-based and memorable erotic writing, the kind of thing you find in D.H. Lawrence or Flaubert.

Los Angeles Blade: You say “class” is seldom related to sexuality these days. Why is that?

Wilson: Mainly because in our current culture, we pretend that social class with all its weird markers and its cruelties does not exist. Ethnicity (or gayness) blankets a lot of our troubles that are really about class. Jake Guarani is proud of being a working guy, but the fact he’s pleasuring a patrician, old-family fellow is a large part of the affair’s turn-on for him.

Los Angeles Blade: What is your feeling about what “bisexuality” is really about?

Wilson: We often talk about bisexuality in very sloppy and unhelpful ways. Take me as an example. I have been out of the closet for 47 years. I have not had sex with a woman for 41 years. I identify as being gay (I sometimes excessively shout it from the rooftops). Yet given the experiences of my past, am I technically somehow still really “bi”? But the interesting problem lies deeper than that. It lies in what theorists of sex call “sexual object choice.” Is it possible not to have some kind of long-term preference for men or women? And if so, how many people are there really like that? When a psychiatrist friend tells Jake he thinks Jake is that relative rarity—a “true” bisexual—Jake asks if that means there’s some kind of discount or something he hasn’t been putting in for.

Los Angeles Blade: Why are gay men sometimes suspicious of men who claim to be bi?

Wilson: In one way the suspicion is justified. Being heterosexual remains a privilege despite all we’ve done to equalize things. So proclaiming yourself bi can be a way to cling to hetero privilege while also enjoying all the fruits of being queer. (I was going to say the fruits of being a fruit, but I won’t.) However, I’m against the cynicism in judging others that way. That’s some of what “The Provider” is all about.

Los Angeles Blade: Six novels, nonfiction, a children’s book, film work. You’ve had a long and varied writing career. Are there common themes that hold it together?

Wilson: I’m old enough to have passed through the so-called sexual revolution of the 1960s and ’70s, a time for which I remain grateful, as it gave me the… well… balls to come out. The idea that the liberation of the body and the exploration and fulfillment of desires would elevate and enlarge the mind and the spirit remains strong in me. My other fascination has been Mexico and especially Mayan people there. Three of my novels take place in the state of Chiapas, and I think there was liberation from middle-class fuddy-duddyness in getting to know a second culture as well as I could.

Los Angeles Blade: Working on two Academy Award-winning documentaries must have been fun, yes?

Wilson: Fun yes, but also hard work done under a lot of time pressure. The narration of a feature-length documentary is like one long poem, and you have to be able to hold everything you need to say in your head and not repeat or even echo yourself. Especially on “Harvey Milk,” my co-writer and I got to contribute to the structuring of the film when the director and others had worn themselves out trying different possibilities.

Los Angeles Blade: You’ve also done a good deal of movie writing.

Wilson: Yes, though nothing that ever made it all the way up to the big silver. Dramas with friend Tim Hunter, original comedies with Judith Coburn, an adaptation of John Webster’s Jacobean melodrama “The White Devil” with Tim, and by myself a screenplay for Christopher Isherwood’s excellent first American novel “The World in the Evening.”

Los Angeles Blade: Are there things you learned from film writing that help writing fiction?

Wilson: A good rule for movies is always to know where your main character is. Where did we see her last and when will she show up again? In fiction this is less necessary, but if you keep to it, you won’t wander off and lose time on peripheral stuff you’ve later got to cut. Of course, the big difference between fiction and film is that unless you have a voice-over narrator, in a feature you can’t just say “The next morning Winky woke up with a hangover as big as the Ritz.” You have to indicate all that somehow. Well, you can put up a card, “Six Years Later in Amalfi, Italy” but that’s a little shoddy usually.

Los Angeles Blade: Tell us a little about your work on gay asylum cases from Mexico.

Wilson: In the 1990s under Janet Reno, the Department of Justice allowed prejudice against gay men and women and people with HIV in Mexico to become a reason for them to seek asylum in the U.S. The standard, however, was strict—you had to have a reasonable fear for your own life if you were returned to your country of origin. Because on my anthropological side I had studied and written about gay life and HIV in Mexico, I was able to serve as an expert witness in over 60 cases in immigration court. Most of this was pro bono work, and it was great to be able to use my “academic” knowledge to help others. You don’t encounter that possibility very often in universities.

Los Angeles Blade: Do you have a next project?

Wilson: I have a nonfiction story called “Happy Monet Christmas, Darling” which is about actress Martha Hyer having hubby producer Hal Wallis’s great Impressionist paintings copied and sold off, which I’m preparing for publication. Ad line: ‘Skulduggery in the ranks of Hollywood Royalty.’

Los Angeles Blade: What’s your life like now?

Wilson: Quiet. Retired from the University of California Santa Cruz for 22 years, live within sight of the ocean (we can hear seals on the beach on winter nights when the wind is right), husband who prefers his cooking to mine, a lot of satisfaction with life, though I’m trying not to be piggy or smug or intolerable about that.

Los Angeles Blade: Any regrets?

Wilson: A younger and better-looking writer, 54, apparently has the same birth name as mine, and his production of thrillers and suspense has “blanketed” me some on Amazon and the Wiki. You can’t copyright a name. It was OK with me when a “Carter Wilson” from Virginia became Miss World America 1979. I told everyone I did OK in bathing suit and gown, but got lower marks in talent for my juggling on a unicycle act.

Los Angeles Blade: Do you sleep in the nude?

Wilson: I do. Also shower there.

Born and raised in Washington, DC, Carter Wilson taught at Harvard, Stanford, Tufts University, and UC Santa Cruz during his long career. His 1995 book “Hidden in the Blood: A Personal Investigation of AIDS in the Yucatán” won the Ruth Benedict Prize from the Gay and Lesbian section of the American Anthropological Association. He lives now on the Monterey Bay with his husband and their two dachshunds and one very mellow female pittie named Peaches.

Website: https://bankilal.ag-sites.net/index.htm

‘Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life’
By Michael Nott
c.2024, Farrar, Straus and Giroux
$40/720 pages

A confession: Until reading “Thom Gunn: A Cool Queer Life,” I hadn’t known much about the accomplished, controversial gay poet’s life or read many of his poems. But this first biography makes me feel like I know him and his large body of work intimately. Michael Nott, coeditor of “The Letters of Thom Gunn,” draws on interviews with friends and family, as well as Gunn’s letters, notebooks, and diaries, to tell the triumphs and tragedies of his life.

Born in England in 1929 to journalist parents, when he was 15, he and his younger brother Ander found their mother dead from suicide. He would not discuss this tragic event in his poetry for years, including one of his last poems “My Mother’s Pride.” He published his first book of poems, “Fighting Terms,” while still an undergraduate at Cambridge University.

At Cambridge, Gunn met his life-long partner, Mike Kitay, an American studying theater. Gunn followed Kitay to America, studying poetry under Yvor Winters at Stanford University. At one point, Kitay, doing his military service, was investigated as part of suspicion of homosexuality among his unit. Gunn wrote to friends of his worry both of what might happen to Kitay as well as to himself. While nothing happened, the event reminds us of the precarious state in which gay men lived until recently.

Eventually, they settled in San Francisco, which Gunn loved. Even when he became worldwide famous, he enjoyed the anonymity of the city’s gay bars, where he could pick up men. He taught at UC Berkeley for 40 years, one term every year so he could concentrate on his poetry. His and Kitay’s home was filled with friends and sex partners, usually of Gunn. This arrangement seems common for many gay men of the time, reminiscent of Dan Savage’s idea of “monogamish,” where committed gay couples might have other side partners.

In San Francisco, Gunn discovered leather and drugs, both of which he took to readily. He caused a stir by appearing in his British publisher’s conservative club in leather gear. Toward the end of his life, he became a crystal meth addict, frequently using with other addicts whom he also slept with. In 2004, his housemates found him dead from substance abuse.

He explored leather, drugs, and gay sexuality frequently in his poems. His collection “Moly” (named after the drug in The Odyssey protecting from the witch Circe’s magic), looked at the appeal and downfall of drugs. The Man with Night Sweats, perhaps his most famous collection, dealt with the AIDS epidemic, the painful death of so many friends and lovers. He won the MacArthur Foundation “Genius” grant afterwards.

The biography presents Gunn in all his humanity, from his poetic genius to his insecurities. After each book came out, he struggled with writer’s block, which led to hookups and drug use. As he aged, he worried about finding “gerontophiles” who would sleep with him. I hope this book encourages readers to discover or revisit his work, filled with the joys and complexities of modern gay life.

‘The Rainbow Age of Television: An Opinionated History of Queer TV’
By Shayna Maci Warner
c.2024, Abrams Press
$28/304 pages

Wanna hand over the clicker?

You don’t want to miss the season premiere of that show you binge-watched over the summer. You’re invested, a fan who can’t wait to see what happens next. You heard that this may be the last season and you’ll be sad, if that’s so. Is it time to start looking for another, newer obsession or will you want to read “The Rainbow Age of Television” by Shayna Maci Warner, and find something old?

Like most kids of the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, Shayna Maci Warner spent lots of time glued to a television screen, devouring programming before school, after school, and all summer long. For Warner, that programming eventually led to a revelation. They saw people that looked like them, for which they formed “a personal attachment.”

It was “life-changing.”

It didn’t happen all at once, and some of TV’s “milestones” are forever lost, since broadcasts were live until the 1950s. Shortly after shows were taped and preserved, homosexuality became a “source of worry and blunt fascination” but certain performers carefully presented gently risqué characters and dialogue that nudged and winked at viewers.

Some queer representation appeared in the 1960s, but it wasn’t until the 1970s when dramas began to feature more gay and lesbian characters, however subtly. It took a while for “the ‘rest’ of the alphabet” to be represented in a meaningful way and – despite that “Star Trek” and its many versions included gender-diverse characters – it wasn’t until 1996 that an intersex infant was featured on a regular television drama.

Since Ellen DeGeneres came out practically on her namesake TV show and “Will & Grace” became a wild hit, queer representation on TV has ceased to be an unusual thing. And yet, programmers and writers know that caution is still warranted: sometimes, “there can still be hesitation around pushing the envelope and fear that a queer character who burns too brightly just won’t last.”

Quick: name three after-school TV shows that aired when you were in fourth grade. If you can’t do it, one thing’s for certain: you need “The Rainbow Age of Television.”

But get ready for some argument. Author Shayna Maci Warner offers a rabid fan’s look at the best and the worst queer representation had to offer, and you may beg to differ with what they say about various programs. That makes this book a critique, of sorts, but Warner offers plenty of wiggle-room for argument.

Tussling over the finer points of queer programming, though, is only half the fun of reading this book. Microwave a box of pizza snacks or mac-and-cheese, demand “your” sofa seat, and dive into the nostalgia of old TV shows, most of them from the later last century. Yep, your faves are here. It’s like having an oldies channel on paper, and in your hand.

This is a must-have for former kids and current TV addicts who are happy to see themselves represented on TV. If that’s you, who brought the chips? “The Rainbow Age of Television” will just click.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

“Rage: On Being Queer, Black, Brilliant… and Completely Over It”
By Lester Fabian Brathwaite
c.2024, Tiny Reparations Books
$28/288 pages

Somewhere up in the clouds.

That’s where your blood pressure is, right there as high as it’s ever been. Hoo, boy, are you angry. Your teeth are clenched, your eyes are slits, and you can’t trust yourself to speak in more than a growl. You’re plenty steamed and, as in the new book “Rage” by Lester Fabian Brathwaite, it shouldn’t have to be this way.

When he came with his family to America from Guyana at just four years old, Brathwaite couldn’t believe what his new home country offered. Malls, new kinds of food, cable television? Shirtless white men on TV and in magazines? Yes, please!

He’s always had crushes on white men, but he loves being a gay Black man – even though racism, overt and subtle, can be an aggravation. When Brathwaite is on a dating app, white men sometimes dismiss him with a racial comment. He’s heard and seen the “n-word” more than once and he doesn’t tolerate it. Wouldn’t a greeting and a no thanks be less rude?

He is bothered by unnecessary meanness.

He is bothered in a different way by bodybuilding. Hot, muscular bodies, to be exact and he’s sure that whoever created the sport was a genius. Brathwaite participates in bodybuilding himself sometimes – it’s expensive and he does it for himself, not for other men – though he believes that gay men are bodybuilding’s biggest subset. For sure, he’s payed homage to his share of bodybuilders, superheroes in movies, and hot shirtless boys on TV.

There were many times, years ago, that Brathwaite ended up drunk and in a stranger’s bed or looking for an old hook-up, and he was arrested once. Nearing 30, though, he realized that that life wasn’t what he wanted anymore. His knees couldn’t take it. Besides, he liked who he was and he liked his blackness. He realized that he didn’t need anyone else to be a hero of his tale. He could do it better himself.

One thing’s for certain: “Rage” lives up to its title.

At times, author Lester Fabian Brathwaite rails against so many things: racism and desire, club society, being a writer and editor, the generational differences between gay men, politics, and loss. At other times, he’s outRAGEous and hilarious, writing to readers as though he’s holding court in a cafe somewhere and you’d better listen up.

You should know that that means honesty – poking in the corners, calling things out for what they are, chastising people who need schooling on how to behave in a way that doesn’t leave room for nonsense. This arrives unabashed and raw, accompanied by plenty of profanity.

You’ve been warned.

And yet, Brathwaite’s candor and his blunt talk is fresh and different. This gay man doesn’t pussy-foot around, and getting his opinions without fluff feels good and right. Readers will appreciate that, and they might come away educated.

Generally speaking, this ain’t your Grandma’s book, unless Grandma likes real talk laced with profanity. If that’s so, then get “Rage.” You’ll both be mad for it.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

In an enlightening interview with the Los Angeles Blade, Chris Tompkins, author of “Raising LGBTQ Allies,” shares invaluable insights on fostering acceptance and understanding in families and communities. Tompkins, inspired by a personal experience with his young nephew, delves into the complexities of discussing gender and sexuality with children, addressing internalized biases, and the importance of proactive, open conversations. His book, which has garnered critical acclaim, offers a compassionate guide for parents, educators, and LGBTQ individuals alike, aiming to create a more inclusive world for future generations.

Los Angeles Blade: What inspired you to write “Raising LGBTQ Allies”?

Chris Tompkins: A question from my six-year-old nephew inspired me. Despite being out and supported by my family, he asked if a woman sitting next to me was my girlfriend. This made me realize that homophobia can be multilayered, sophisticated, and sometimes manifest as silence.

Los Angeles Blade: How did your upbringing influence your work?

Chris Tompkins: Growing up gay in a religious household, I struggled with my relationship with God. Reconnecting with my version of a “higher power” was transformative. My experiences teaching social-emotional learning and working with the LGBTQ community have shown me the importance of spirituality and self-love.

Los Angeles Blade: Why is your book important for LGBTQ community members, whether they have kids or not?

Chris Tompkins: It helped me realize my own responsibility in raising LGBTQ allies, even as a single, out-of-state uncle. The book encourages LGBTQ individuals to embody the change they want to see in younger generations.

Los Angeles Blade: Who could benefit from your book?

Chris Tompkins: While it’s titled for parents, “Raising LGBTQ Allies” is also a resource for LGBTQ community members to heal from trauma and toxic shame, especially given the current surge of anti-LGBTQ legislation.

Los Angeles Blade: Why is addressing trauma and shame important for the LGBTQ community?

Chris Tompkins: Trauma stems from chronic invalidation, which is common in the LGBTQ experience. Addressing these issues is crucial for mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing.

Los Angeles Blade: Can you explain the concept of trauma in the context of LGBTQ experiences?

Chris Tompkins: Trauma can be subtle and insidious, like the “thousand paper cuts” of chronic invalidation. Even in seemingly accepting environments, internalized shame can persist, affecting mental health and leading to coping mechanisms like substance abuse.

Los Angeles Blade: What is “Benign Neglect” and how does it relate to LGBTQ issues?

Chris Tompkins: “Benign Neglect” refers to the unintended consequences of not communicating about important issues. In LGBTQ contexts, it’s often manifested as parents avoiding discussions about gender and sexuality with children, which can inadvertently perpetuate shame and misunderstanding.

Los Angeles Blade: How can parents discuss sexuality with young children in LGBTQ-affirming ways?

Chris Tompkins: Include same-sex examples in everyday conversations and challenge gender stereotypes. Start these discussions early – children as young as six can understand these concepts when explained appropriately.

Los Angeles Blade: How can adults ensure a child has a healthy space for self-discovery?

Chris Tompkins: Be curious and create space for open, honest conversations. It’s our responsibility to learn who children are, not for them to teach us.

Los Angeles Blade: Any advice for adults uncomfortable with these conversations?

Chris Tompkins: Focus on keeping open, not keeping up. It’s okay to feel uncertain, but don’t let that prevent you from having these important discussions.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s your perspective on the recent surge of anti-LGBTQ legislation?

Chris Tompkins: It’s a countercultural dynamic, like a pendulum swinging back after progress. This emphasizes the importance of proactive conversations to challenge bias and raise allies.

CHRIS TOMPKINS is an LGBTQ-affirming therapist who specializes in gay men’s identity and religious trauma.

Los Angeles Blade: Can you discuss problematic language in LGBTQ conversations?

Chris Tompkins: Words like “issues,” “lifestyle,” “different,” and “trend” can be harmful. They often carry subconscious bias and can unintentionally perpetuate the idea that being LGBTQ is a choice. It’s important to be mindful of our language.

Los Angeles Blade: How can we recognize and unravel our own biases?

Chris Tompkins: Start with self-reflection. Recognize that growing up in a heteronormative culture affects everyone’s beliefs. Consider the possibility that children in your life might be LGBTQ to help disrupt heteronormative thinking.

Los Angeles Blade: What are “messages from the playground”?

Chris Tompkins: It’s a metaphor for subconscious beliefs we pick up in childhood about gender, sexuality, and identity. These “messages” shape our worldview and can perpetuate shame if not addressed.

Los Angeles Blade: When and how should parents answer questions about where babies come from?

Chris Tompkins: Answer when children ask, as their curiosity indicates readiness. Use age-appropriate explanations. Discussing gender and sexuality early helps remove shame and fosters respect for these aspects of identity.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s the most important message you hope parents take from your book?

Chris Tompkins: This is a conversation for all parents, not just those with LGBTQ kids. Do the work yourself and maintain open, honest dialogues with your children.

Los Angeles Blade: How can readers engage more with your work?

Chris Tompkins: Visit my website, www.aroadtriptolove.com, or find me on Instagram: @aroadtriptolove.

Los Angeles Blade: What’s next for you and the book?

Chris Tompkins: “Raising LGBTQ Allies” has been published in Spanish and Vietnamese, with a paperback release on October 1st. It recently received the 2024 APA Distinguished Book Award, which will help it reach more readers, including educators and administrators.

Los Angeles Blade: Where can we find your book?

Chris Tompkins: It’s available wherever books are sold. You can pre-order the paperback edition now.

Los Angeles Blade: Any final advice?

Chris Tompkins: Don’t let fear of saying the wrong thing prevent you from speaking up. Ask for guidance, follow your heart, and remember that having these conversations is changing the narrative for future generations.

CHRIS TOMPKINS is an LGBTQ-affirming therapist who specializes in gay men’s identity and religious trauma. His work has been featured on TEDx, NBC, HuffPost, Psychology Today, the Advocate, and more. An uncle of five, Chris believes the privilege of a lifetime is being able to affirm all children for who they are. www.aroadtriptolove.com 

‘Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity’
By Jack Turban, MD
c.2024, Atria
$29.99/304 pages

‘My Child is Trans, Now What?’
By Ben V. Greene
c.2024, Rowman & Littlefield
$26.95/203 pages

Your child has recently told you a secret that they can’t hold tight anymore.

You’ve suspected what they’re about to say for a long time. When they were small, they weren’t like other children. They may have even told you what they were thinking, even before they knew it themselves. But now you know, for sure, and so, going forward, you’re the loving parent of a child who’s trans, and there’s a learning curve.

These two books might help.

Surely, you must think that there has to be some science behind gender and identity, right? In “Free to Be: Understanding Kids & Gender Identity” by Jack Turban, MD (Atria, $29.99), you’ll follow the lives and struggles of three trans and gender diverse kids, Kyle, Sam, and Meredith, as Turban explains what science knows about genetics and sexuality.

To gain a basic understanding of the subject, says Turban, we need to look back in history to see how gender identity was perceived in the past and the attitudes that our ancestors held. He then touches upon language and “misnaming,” how social constructs attempt to set a child’s gender identity before it’s fully known, and why mothers often catch “blame” for something that’s never anyone’s “fault.” Further information on biology, puberty blockers, gender reassignment surgery for young trans people, and the “politics” of gender diversity round out this book nicely.

For the parent who wants a deeper dive into what makes their child tick and what they can do to make that kid’s life easier, this compassionate book is the one to read.

If you’re just finding out that your child is trans, then “My Child is Trans, Now What?” by Ben V. Greene (Rowman & Littlefield, $26.95) is a book to reach for now.

Beginning with the things you’ll want to know and understand immediately, this book is assuring and soothing – look, and you’ll see the word “joy” in its subtitle. Greene calls trans kids “VIPs,” and he means it, which sets a relaxing tone for what’s to come here.

In sharing his own experiences, Greene stresses that every trans experience is different, and he touches often upon his coming out. This launches discussions on topics like bathrooms, therapy (if you or your VIP want it), finding support, the politics of being trans, the stressors of medical treatment, and what it might be like to have even brief regrets. Greene finishes his book with advice on getting an education and living as a trans person.

“My Child is Trans, Now What?” is truly more of a book for parents and loved ones of trans teens or young adults. What’s in here goes well beyond childhood, so be aware before you reach for it on the shelf. And if these books aren’t enough, or don’t quite fit what you need, be sure to ask your favorite bookseller or librarian for more. In recent years, more and more authors have been willing to share their own journeys, making the transition one that doesn’t have to be so secret anymore.

‘Blessings’
By Chukwuebuka Ibeh
c.2024, Doubleday
$28/288 pages

Sometimes you just need to step back a minute.

You need time to regroup, to think things through, and a scenery change is the place to do it. Get past your current position, and situations can become clearer somehow. Thoughts can be reorganized. Problems pivot. As in the new novel “Blessings” by Chukwuebuka Ibeh, you’ll have a different perspective.

Obiefuna didn’t say much on the road to the seminary.

What was there to say? His father had caught him in a too-cozy situation with a young man who’d been taken in as an apprentice and for that, Obiefuna was being sent away. Away from his mother, his younger brother, Ekene, and from the young man that 15-year-old Obiefuna was in love with.

Life in seminary was bad – Obiefuna was always on alert for Seniors, who were said to be abusive because abuse was allowed, even encouraged – but things weren’t as bad as he thought they might be. He made friends and good grades but he missed his mother. Did she suspect he was gay? Obiefuna wanted to tell her, but he hid who he was.

Mostly, he kept to himself until he caught the eye of Senior Papilo, who was said to be the cruelest of the cruel. Amazingly, though, Senior Papilo became Obiefuna’s protector, letting Obiefuna stay in his bed, paying for Obi’s first experience with a woman, making sure Obiefuna had better food. Maybe Obiefuna loved Senior Papilo but Senior had other boys, which made Obi work twice as hard to be his favorite. Still, he hid.

And then Senior Papilo passed his final exams and moved on.

So, eventually, did Obiefuna. Sure, there were other boys – one who almost got him expelled, a chaplain who begged forgiveness, and there was even a girl once – but Obi grew up and fully embraced his truth: All he wanted was to be accepted for himself, to be loved.

As Nigeria moved toward making same-sex marriage illegal, though, neither one looked likely.

So here’s the puzzle: the story inside “Blessings” is interesting. Obiefuna is a great character who takes what happens with quiet compliance, as if he long ago relinquished hope that he could ever control his own life. Instead, he passively lets those who surround him take the reins and though reasons for this are not clearly stated and it’s uncomfortable, it’s easy to grasp and accept why. This goes, too, for the Seniors whose actions readers will tacitly understand.

What’s not easy to accept is that author Chukwuebuka Ibeh’s story often slows to a glacial pace, with great chunks of the book’s multi-year timeline crunched into basically only highlights. You’ll be left loving this story but hating its stride.

The best advice is to embrace this moving novel’s message and accept the slowness, love the excellent characters, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself checking to see how many pages you have left to crawl through. Yes, you’ll enjoy the soul-touching cast in “Blessings” but if speed in a plot supersedes good characters, then step back.

‘The Guncle Abroad’
By Steven Rowley
c.2024, Putnam
$29/307 pages

The cake’s going to be magnificent.

You must have tasted 15 different samples and a dozen frostings, and considered five unique looks before settling on a showstopper. Next, you have to get invitations addressed and in the mail. You have to confirm the tuxes. You have to get flowers and centerpieces ordered. As in “The Guncle Abroad” by Steven Rowley,” you have to get everyone on board.

Patrick O’Hara couldn’t believe how his life had changed.

A few short years ago, he was living in Palm Springs, having “retired” from making films. He was in love, happy, and he had temporary custody of his niece, Maisie, and his nephew, Grant. Life was good.

Now? Oh boy. Patrick and Emory had split-ish (Emory was still living in Patrick’s California home), Patrick was living in Manhattan, making a movie in London, looking for another role soon, and the kids were four years older. Maisie was an attitudinal teen now; Grant was nine and too wise for his age.

They weren’t the cuddly kids Patrick once knew – especially since their dad, Patrick’s brother, Greg, was getting married again and the kids didn’t like Livia, their wealthy socialite stepmom-to-be. Patrick suspected it was because Grant and Maisie still missed their Mom. It hadn’t been all that long since Sara died. Was a new marriage an insult to old memories?

Patrick didn’t think so, and he’d prove it. While Greg and Livia were last-minute wedding-planning, he bought three Eurail passes, one for him and one each for the kids. He’d give them some culture and some new Guncle rules about love. Maybe – was it possible? – he’d even become their favorite GUP again.

But Maisie and Grant had other ideas. They agreed to go on the stupid trip around Europe with their GUP, if Patrick agreed to talk to Greg about calling off the entire wedding. Something old (memories), something new (stepmother), something borrowed (trouble), and something blue (two kids) just had to be undone, and soon.

There’s an old saying, to paraphrase, that if the wedding is perfectly smooth, the marriage won’t be. With this in mind, “The Guncle Abroad” is covered: add a snarky lesbian with an entourage, a tipsy sister on a manhunt, a Lothario who doesn’t speak English, and lost love, all at a lakeside hotel, and yeah, we’re good.

But here’s the thing: author Steven Rowley doesn’t just make readers laugh. We’re covered on that part, too, because the whole pre-wedding scene in this book is pure chaos and LOL funny. Long before that, though, you’ll be charmed by Rowley’s main character and his desperation to stay relevant, to avoid-not-avoid love, and by his efforts to connect with his brother’s kids. And after the not-so-storybook wedding, well, you know how those things are.

Bring tissues, that’s all you need to know.

If you’re in need of a rom-com this summer, just bring the bubbly, pop a cork, and make it this one. Reading “The Guncle Abroad” is best for beach, bench, or backyard.

Loving it? Piece of cake.

The Blade may receive commissions from qualifying purchases made via this post.

‘Breaking the Rainbow Ceiling’
By Layla McCay
c.2024, Bloomsbury
$24/240 pages

You can see the CEO’s office from the outside of your workplace.

You’ve actually been in that office, so you know what it looks like inside, too. Big, expansive desk. Cushy, expensive chair. Ankle-deep carpet. The CEO got there through regular means over the course of his career – something you’d like to do, too. But as you know, and as in the new book, “Breaking the Rainbow Ceiling” by Layla McCay, you’ll have to take a different path.

Of all the thousands of board seats and C-suite occupiers in American businesses, only a very tiny number – less than one percent – are occupied by people who identify as LGBTQ. In London, says McCay, no one on the Financial Times Stock Exchange identifies as such. Just six of the world’s leaders, past or current, have come out as LGBTQ.

The reasons for this are many, from discomfort to a sense of a lack of safety or just plain mistrust. Employees often don’t talk about it and employers can’t or don’t ask, which can lead to a lot of issues that cis, heterosexual employees don’t have to think about.

LGBTQ employees make less money than their straight co-workers. They experience discrimination ranging from sexual violence on one end, to micro aggressions on the other. Discrimination can be found in educational settings, and networking events, in a lack of mentorship, and the feeling that one needs to “code-switch.” Even an overseas job offer can be complicated by identifying as LGBTQ.

And yet, says McCoy, there are benefits to coming out, including a sense of authenticity, and feeling as if a load has been removed from one’s shoulders.

If you are an employer, McCoy says, there are things you can do to help. Include LGBTQ people in your diversity programs at work. Insist on it for recruitment. Make sure your employees feel safe to be themselves. Make all policies inclusive, all the time, from the start. Doing so benefits your business. It helps your employees.

“It’s good for society.”

Pretty common sense stuff, no? Yeah, it is; most of what you’ll read inside “Breaking the Rainbow Ceiling” is, in fact, very commonsensical. Moreover, if you’re gay, lesbian, bi, trans, or queer, you won’t find one new or radical thing in this book.

And yet, inside all the nothing-new, readers will generally find things they’ll appreciate. The statistics, for instance, that author Layla McCay offers would be helpful to cite when asking for a raise. It’s beneficial, for instance, to be reminded why you may want to come out at work or not. The advice on being and finding a mentor is gold. These things are presented through interviews from business leaders around the world, and readers will find comfort and wisdom in that. You’ll just have to wade through a lot of things you already know to get it, that’s all.

Is it worth it? That depends on your situation. You may find nothing in “Breaking the Rainbow Ceiling,” or it may help you raise the roof.

By Michael Waters
c.2024, Farrar, Straus and Giroux
$30/368 pages

He’s going to win.

It’s apparent: much as you’re trying, hard as you’re running, as much as your lungs burn, he’s ahead by two paces. You had a good start but he’s the better athlete. You know this now. He’s going to win this competition and you’re going to lose. But, as in the new book “The Other Olympians” by Michael Waters, there may be another outcome.

Young Zdnek Koubek avoided sports as much as possible.

Born nearly seven years before the creation of the Czechoslovakian state, he always understood that he was “different”: in school, he had a fierce reputation for fighting, but he couldn’t relate to rough-and-tumble male classmates or their games. The world of girls was also baffling to him, even though, “To the world, he was a girl.”

At eight years old, Koubek participated in his first organized sporting event, a sprint he lost by “a second” that he never forgot. Seething with years-long anger, “his contempt for sports only grew” as he matured but in the fall of 1927, he had a change of heart: he’d landed a ticket to a track and field sporting event, at which he noted how “free” it must feel to run.

“In the following months,” says Waters, “Koubek couldn’t get enough of track and field.” He began competing in – and winning – women’s events, unaware that ” he wasn’t alone” in his differences.

In the early 1930s, in fact, several world-class athletes were quietly questioning their own gender; meanwhile, coaches and second- and third-place finishers cried foul over losses to “manly” women. Some athletes, assigned as female at birth, “could not evade the gender anxieties of the era.” Others lost their chance to be an Olympic competitor due to politics, and some just quit.

For other athletes with Olympic dreams, the 1936 games loomed large as they rose to celebrity status. They did so, even though Adolph Hitler and his followers had “launched a campaign to crush Germany’s queer community.”

If a book starts out with a long list of acronyms, pay attention. Take that as a sign that you may be in for a deep look and some confusion.

Indeed, author Michael Waters seems to leave no pebble unturned in this story, which tends to drag sometimes. Readers of “The Other Olympians,” for example, may wonder why long pages are sometimes devoted to people who are never mentioned again in the narrative. Were those individuals imperative to the history here? You may never know.

And yet, there’s that depth.

Waters takes his audience back to a time when heterosexuality was the absolute norm and LGBTQ people were considered to be anomalous and intriguing. The turn-around from that perception doesn’t end well, and its causation feels particularly familiar here – in more ways than one.

This is probably not anyone’s true idea of a beach read; instead, it’s timely, relevant, serious and interesting – but only if you study it fully. Don’t, and you’ll be lost. With patience, though, “The Other Olympians” is a win-win kind of read.