The framework begins building...

I spent much of today sitting and talking with my main character in what I'm now calling Misdemeanor Murder...and which I'm still not crazy about. I do need a better title.

This is what he's revealed of himself.

Simon Halloran, 69, gay but celibate. Insulted people think he'd make a pass at the juice-junky cop who arrested him. Looks like an older Bing Crosby. Thinning red hair. Slim but not skinny. 5’9” and 155 lbs. Bites nails.

Born in Nathalia, Texas Moved to San Antonio when dad got job at Kelly AFB.

Had a brother and his wife get $2500 out of him to help with dental expenses, turned out was really for one of her sons from a previous marriage to get him out of a jam. Never paid back.

Aunt, uncle and cousins cut him off when found out he’s gay, nothing overt just went silent on him, no sharing, nothing.

Now lives in Buffalo, NY, away from everyone in his family.

“I can’t be hurt when no one is around to hurt me.” 

Mom neurotic but kindly. Passed away 15 years earlier.

Father dismissive due to being effeminate, focused on brothers and sisters. Died from diabetes 23 years ago.

Trained himself to be more masculine as he grew older, now just kind of bland, on the surface.

Presbyterian upbringing.

Writes and posts stories about kidnapping and raping men, what he calls ditties on his blog, on Tumblr, through GayDemon and other threads. Some very brutal. Unapologetic when confronted with it. “I don’t do it; I just fantasize.”

Loses self in SF and Fantasy, and writing gay erotica. Always worked in book stores on a minimal existence, but lots of free reading. “What more am I worthy of?”

Semi-retired, talked into going to Barrington, OH to archive a book collection as a favor for a friend.

When in 8th grade would draw sketches for girls (of boys they liked) and boys (nude females), for 10 cents each, till two boys tried to blackmail him. He refused. Got in trouble, suspended. Picked on when returned but stabbed one tormenter in arm with a pencil. Said was an accident. Uproar but nothing could be done. Here is when he first realized he will not back down in the face of being threatened. Quietly told the boy the next pencil would go in his eye, so left him alone, after that.

As a young gay man in San Antonio, got into a relationship with Darren and was treated like shit. Emotionally and physically abused. Raped, but when he tried to report it was told he’d go to jail for being queer. Financially devastated but managed to move to Houston to get away.

Darren died of AIDs, in Austin. Simon both glad and sad about it. HIV negative.

Near end of the book, in a confrontation with the cop who first arrested him: What a stupid man, Simon thought. He can’t think beyond his nose. Can’t see threats are nothing to me. I’ve never given into threats. Never will. I can’t. There’s something in me that refuses to allow that. And I told him. But he doesn’t believe me. The stupid, stupid man.