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My objective as a teenager was to find the boys, to link up with them because they were the party, they were the event. Years passed, and the objective stayed the same, with the focus shifted to sanction my own creativity: find boys to make a band, find boys to make a movie—find boys because they’d…

This was a life I’d hardly dared to dream of, one suffused with tribalism, freedom, and exultant chaos. I was like a burr snagged in the fur of a running wolf, swept away at an exhilarating gallop. I would have done anything to be near the boys because when I was, anything could happen—bad things, …

My male friends proved that hunch right. They were everything I thought they’d be and more. Nothing prepared me for the contagious ecstasy of their pubescent masculinity—not previous experience nor avid reading nor extravagant daydreams. They were perfect human beings to me, godlike because they we…

MEN HAVE AN EASIER time respecting prostitutes than women who hate prostitutes care to admit. There’s a line in a Lorrie Moore story: “Her father is of that Victorian sensibility that deep down respects prostitutes more than it does women in general.” Men can think more highly of the former than th…

MEN HAVE AN EASIER time respecting prostitutes than women who hate prostitutes care to admit. There’s a line in a Lorrie Moore story: “Her father is of that Victorian sensibility that deep down respects prostitutes more than it does women in general.” Men can think more highly of the former than th…