I recently released my 21st published book, Righteous, which is the fourth book in the Our Lady of Righteous Rage series. This book follows the band on their tour across America, as they go from city to city, state to state, playing shows and meeting new fans…and narrowly avoiding fights with Mick, David, and the rest of the band, Stereotype. When I wrote the final few chapters, I developed an idea for yet another book. This time, I decided to focus on Jon, Amy’s son. During the story in Righteous, Jon’s birth parents contact him, much to his alarm. He doesn’t want anything to do with, but he decides to be diplomatic and try to spend time with them. My next book, Biologicals, will focus on Jon’s attempt to reestablish a relationship with his birth parents, aka his “biologicals”. Here’s a sneak peak from the first chapter:
- The Delivery Room, The Couch, and Onward
“It’s a boy!”
I imagine that’s what the doctor said in the delivery room, on the day I entered the world. I can picture myself, tiny and naked, and silent, until that first smack on the ass, which caused my lungs to open up, giving me the opportunity to take my first breath. I’m sure I must have started crying. Then I guess the doctor or the nurse handed me to my mother, so she could count my fingers and toes, and give me a once-over, just to make sure she hadn’t given birth to some freak show kid.
But, like I said, I can only imagine all of this. I don’t remember any of it, because I was just too young. The memories I do have of my birth parents, aren’t the most pleasant memories I have. To put it frankly, my birth parents—or biologicals, as I prefer to call them—are assholes.
Yep. I just did that. I called my biologicals assholes. That’s what they are. You’re probably wondering why I feel that way. Sure: most teenagers hate their parents. Most of their reasons for hating their parents are completely unfounded: not being allowed to go to parties, drink, stay out past curfew, etc. My reasons for feeling the way I do, are totally legitimate.
When I lived with my biologicals, I didn’t have my own room. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters to compete with; I just didn’t have a room. My room was the living room, and my bed was the couch. I lived with Michael and Leora, my biologicals, in a one bedroom apartment. So, naturally, the one room went to them. This was interesting, especially when they had company. They would quickly clean up the area known as “Jon’s space”, and pretend we were a normal family. Bullshit artists.
They managed to pull this off, until my uncle told them, he was going to take steps to have me taken from them. I was eventually sent to live with my cousin David, and his girlfriend (later, wife) Amy. I had been spending time with David ever since I was two. He would babysit me whenever my biologicals went out (which was often). Amy was the best. She was the only one outside of my family who was allowed to pick me up. When I was really little, David started seeing this girl named Gina, before he and Amy were dating. I hated Gina. She smelled like she had soaked herself in an entire bottle of perfume, and not even a good fragrance. And, she was a bitch. To this day, I have no idea what David saw in her.
But, Amy and David got married, and adopted me. I wasn’t sure of what to call them: Mom and Dad, or Amy and Cousin David. David went out of the country when I was younger, and left me and Amy alone for the first time. I came down with a case of pneumonia. I was a little nervous, but Amy kept it together. She was barely eighteen, and acting just like a mother. She took me to the emergency room, got my medicine, and took care of me. From that day forward, she wasn’t Amy. She was Mom.
But, David, on the other hand, couldn’t handle the whole Dad-thing. Mom can sing and play the guitar, and she and her friends were in a band. David was jealous from the very beginning. He started criticizing Mom and her friends, saying she needed to focus on being a wife and a mother instead of a rock star. But I was watching her juggle both with no problem! At no point did I ever feel like she was neglecting me. I was sad when they got a divorce…I was even sadder when I had to go and live with David. We’re biologically related, so the judge gave him custody of me…asshole. Mom is a fighter, though. She went back to court, and got custody of me. So, I got to go and live with the one person in this world who truly loves me.