A Straight Author and His Gay Best Friend Birthed A Character Together

May 9, 2018 | 1:00 PM

A Straight Author and His Gay Best Friend Birthed A Character Together

By B.T. Gottfred
A Straight Author and His Gay Best Friend Birthed A Character Together

In the creation of my characters, I liken myself most to their mother. I conceive, carry, birth, raise, shape, and then liberate them into the world. The carry-birth-raise phases I do largely on my own. The shape-liberation phases are done in partnership with my editor and publisher.

The conception?

There is always one idea or one thing or (most often) one person who has entered my life and impregnated me with, dare I say, a creative seed. Our DNAs then combine to form a singular character. The term of the pregnancy can be week or years but eventually, this character is ready to leave the womb-brain and enter the world through a story of their own.

In my new novel, The Handsome Girl & Her Beautiful Boy, that titular boy is Art Adams and the person who knocked me up is my best friend, Bill Sindelar, a gay man I met through our Crossfit gym in Studio City, California. Bill is perhaps the funniest person I know (he certainly thinks he is), making his living as a warm-up comic host for shows like THE VOICE and THE TALK.

A few weeks ago, I suggested to Bill that I’d love to write an article where I interviewed him along with our character-son, Art. Most people would have said, “I don’t understand” or “But Art isn’t a real person” or “Huh?” But Bill responded, “Yes, of course, I love it.”


On the night of the interview, after I put my non-character children to bed, I asked Bill if he was ready for Art to arrive.

He said, “Yep,” while trying to mask his first concerned signs of what exactly is about to happen. “Am I dressed appropriately?” He was wearing Lebron James high tops, a Cleveland Cavaliers t-shirt, a Cavs hat, and jean short overalls.

“You look great,” I said, and meant it, though I knew Art would be mortified that his dad was wearing sports paraphernalia and overalls. Before he could over-think the situation, I added, “Okay, before Art gets here, I’d love — if you’re okay with it — for you to give us a brief recap of your coming out story.”

“Yeah, I mean… sure… so, I knew I liked guys from the time I was a kid, but I’m from Cleveland and my parents are conservative and I didn’t want to be gay so I just didn’t tell anyone or talk about it. Then when I was twenty-two, I moved out to Los Angeles and moved in with two gay guys. And all I could think was, People are going to think I’m gay if I stay living with them, so I moved back to Cleveland. On the first night I went out with all my Cleveland friends, they ditched me, so that's when I went to my first gay bar and had my first real adult gay experience in the back seat of my new car.

"I stayed in Cleveland for a year — I didn’t have any more experiences with men, but I did have sex with a woman for the first and only time, long story — and then moved back to Los Angeles. Within a few days, I started working on this Nickelodeon show as a host-in-training in a theatre with dozens of other dancers and cast members. This girl came up to me and said, "All the girls think you’re hot and all the guys think you’re hot, too, so will you just tell us if you’re straight or gay so we can all move on?” This is the first time anyone had ever asked me. I took a second and then just said it. ‘I’m gay.’ She turned around and screamed, ‘He’s gay!’ And it just echoed through the theatre. He’s gay, gay, gay, gay…”

“Were you mortified?” I asked.

“No,” he said, paused, then continued, “I felt liberated.”


The doorbell rang – Art knows how to time the perfect entrance. I stood to answer it only to find Art charging through before I can take a step.

As he raced toward us, Art spouted, “I’m sorry, there was just no way I could just stand there outside and wait even one minute so I just came in.”

Bill stood, frozen in shock and bemusement. He was processing everything as fast as he could. Unsure what to do first, Bill offered his hand to shake and said, “Hi, I’m Bill—"

“It’s like he doesn’t know me at all!” Art cried out with mocking self-pity, before waving the handshake off with a laugh and leaping into a hug. He pressed his head into Bill’s chest like a newborn. When Art pulled away, he blew me a kiss, “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, but this isn’t about you. Ha.”

“So…” I started.

“Yes, soooo…” Art said as he squeezed between Bill and me on the couch, then flopped down with feigned exhaustion.

“Art,” I began again, “Now that I’m finally introducing you to Bill, is there something you wanted to ask him?”

“Well, dad…" Art said to Bill, all the while making light of my mother & seed creative theory. "Luckily I didn’t get my fashion sense from you. I’m kidding. Not really. Ha. But seriously, I know you read our book… what parts of me and my story most reminded you of your own life?”

“Oooooh,” Bill cooed with a mix of delight and trepidation, “Gosh, now you’re really expecting me to go back. Ummmmm… well, the biggest thing was that — just like you — everyone in high school thought I was gay, too, and I hated they all thought that even though I knew they were right. I wanted so bad to prove them wrong. I’d think, ‘Ha, I’ll show them how wrong they are and make Kelly Robin go out with me even though the last thing I wanted was to go out with a girl.’”

Art’s body and spirit drooped. “That’s not why I fell in love with Zee—" Without realizing it, Bill had marginalized Art’s relationship with the first person (who happened to be a girl) he loved.

“He knows, Art,” I said, knowing what was in Bill’s heart.

“Yeah, no, no, I didn’t mean… I mean…” Bill stumbled, “It’s just you’ve grown up in a time when people can experiment, be fluid… when I grew up, you were one thing or another. There was no questioning it. If a dude kissed a dude, that’s it: you’re gay forever.”

I let Bill keep talking because he had naturally fallen upon one of the core reasons I wanted to write the book.

“I mean, how everything has evolved, I’m questioning labels constantly now. I question myself even.” Bill turned to me, as much for emotional support as to make his point, “How many times have I said to you at the gym, ‘Oh, that chick is built like a dude and I’d totally have sex with her…” 

I interjected, “I don’t think you mean to say a girl is built like a dude, Bill.”

His face sunk to red. Bill looked to Art, desperate for a life raft. “Art, how would you describe it?”

“Well… I’d say what attracted me to Zee was not that she looked masculine, but that she just looked like the girl I always knew I’d like. And when I find boys attractive, they just look like boys I know I like.”

“Oh, god, that’s great… I just played right into both of you, haven’t I? I feel like I fell into a trap you two set.”

“Honestly?” I said, “I didn’t really plan it.”

“I did.” Art winked.

“But,” I continued, “I do love that even a liberal gay man in Los Angeles has trouble expressing their own complex emotions and desires, which illuminates how ingrained societal conceptions of gender and sexuality ensnares us all.”

Bill grinned and nodded, then added with his trademark smirk, “That was good. You should write books. Like young adult novels. Three of them even.”

“You’re hilarious,” Art said.

“Just like you,” Bill said back.

“If only you dressed better. Ha.”

“I can dress better… than this… when I want. ” Bill clearly wished he had worn anything besides the jean short overalls. “God, I keep thinking that wearing all this sports stuff will eventually result in me being out somewhere and another sports gay spotting me. But that’s never happened. No other gay guys care about sports as much as I do.”

“So…” Art began, “You’re a one of kind.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Just like me.” Art winked again. Bill beamed. He needed that – and not just tonight.

“We’re running short on time,” I said, “So, Bill… I wanted to make sure you got a chance to ask Art something.”

Bill paused before speaking, which was rare for him. I can always tell when Bill is going to be sincere. That perma-devious-yet-joyous smirk disappears, replaced by a still depth in his eyes. He asks Art, “Are you happy?”

Art knew what Bill was really asking and said in return, “Yes, because I’m me.”

Bill nodded, emotions rising fast and true in spite of himself, “That’s all that matters.” 


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The Handsome Girl & Her Beautiful Boy by B.T. Gottfred

Everyone assumes that Zee is a lesbian. Her classmates, her gym buddies, even her so-called best friend. Even Zee is starting to wonder. Could they be onto something?

Everyone assumes that Art is gay. They take one look at his nice clothes and his pretty face and think: well, obviously.

But there’s more to Zee and Art than anyone realizes. What develops is a powerful connection between two people who are beautiful in all the ways they've been told are strange. As they explore their own complex relationships to gender, sexuality, and identity, they fall for the complexities they find in each other. With his trademark frankness, B. T. Gottfred delves inside both characters' heads in this story about love and living authentically.

Start reading now.


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