Reviewer: David Sullivan
Publisher: Create Space (Aug. 2012)
Pages: 150
Bottom line: Very good book; I recommend it and intend to
read it again!
It’s New York City in the 1950’s when Timmy discovers his
own sexuality. But he’s aroused by men and women, which confuses him.
Then Timmy meets Dickie, who likes to take young men under his wing and teach
them the arts of fellatio, and Dickie's current young protégé, Shelly.
But
Dickie is abusive, much like the men who have used Timmy for their own sexual
release since he was a child. His attraction turns to Shelly, but who wants
nothing to do with him.
Timmy is also seduced by an older Polish woman, an
acquaintance of his mother’s. Confused by his own desires, Timmy returns to his
favorite activity -- cruising the pathways of Tompkins Square Park. (End
of blurb)
The story opens in the resort Coney Island, New York. Since
I grew up across the river in New Jersey I liked the book right away and was
prepared to be disappointed as sometimes occurs with books. Didn’t happen here.
Mr. Dementiuk writes quite well, so well that in several
parts of the book I realized I was sitting with tension in my chair, gripping
the arm and/or holding my breath (Gosh, how often does that happen in a book?)
I’m bisexual and was confused from an early age. I thought
it had to be I like men or women. This book offers no psychological solutions
except to let readers know they are not alone. We all struggle; LGBT folks
struggle more.
The book is easy to read and is a classic page-turner. It
didn’t send me to the dictionary more than a few times unlike some books where
authors seem to want to show off a vocabulary.
Who would benefit from reading this? Anyone of any age who
is LGBT or anyone who desires some insight into the pain and suffering that
comes from being alone with no one to talk to about one’s sexuality and what
it’s like to be insulted and rejected merely because nature failed to make one
‘average’ (heterosexual.) My hat is off the author.
What I didn’t like: It ended. I could have gone for another
hundred pages. My hat is off to the author, who I am not related to and don’t
have any business relationships with. Damn, I ended a sentence with a
preposition.
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