The Bottom Club

foreword

I've tried writing this so many times but the words never feel right however I dress them up. Even now they don't, but I'll do it anyway with a hope that by the end I will get to where I imagine I want to be.

Like this: Hey you. Welcome to The Bottom Club.

I'm mind blown by the fact that you've picked this book out of the thousands that are published on here every day, and I know you're as eager as I am to get into the story so I'll try to keep this introduction as short as possible. Trust me, it's important you have a heads-up on what you're about to get yourself into. Let's begin.

Contrary to what the lighthearted title and blurb may suggest, chances are that you've probably never read a story like this―and I say this because among many other things, this is not a romance. It is a story about relationships. So if you've come thinking this is going to be anything like Still Point then sorry to disappoint.

This is not an easy read, like, at all. At certain points you may want to drop this book, maybe because my MC is a self-saboteur 101% of the time; maybe because the plotline isn't going how you expected it would, and the subject matter has become heavier than you bargained for; whatever the reason, I ask for patience. This book took me a little over fifteen months to write, and so I think of it like a person, which given enough time you will come to understand. But only if you keep an open mind.

I'm not American and I have never been to America, so my understanding of race and ethnicity are limited to the media I consume, things I've seen on TV, books I've read and resources I happened upon from the internet; but I hope you find I've done justice to Wyatt Carter―a white-passing half-Dominican loud-mouth, much too beautiful for his own good. He will make you mad, he will make you sad, he will break your heart.

If you have any suggestions on how I could make this story better then feel free to reach out!

Somewhere around this point in an earlier draft of this foreword written before this novel was even complete, I'd ordered readers to vote, comment, follow and share; after which I delved into a longwinded lecture on how interaction could push The Bottom Club up Wattpad's elusive algorithm.

In this draft I don't.

I wrote this book with no ulterior motives as to whether or not it would succeed. I wrote it through a period of my life where I wasn't even sure I'd live long enough to complete it. I wrote it as a love letter to the queers, divas, femmes, kids who don't know where they fit in or even how to. I wrote it for boys like me, who are difficult to love or who feel as if they are. It means somewhere out there; people exist who need to read this book as much as I needed to create it.

Writing is a very lonely experience, and the process for this was especially hard. So hitting the little star button, dropping a nice comment and sharing would not only validate my efforts, but get this story out to a larger audience―at no monetary cost to you. It's a win for everyone.

Finally, I know it may come off as presumptuous of me to say but please do not copy my work. What you're about to read is a product of months of emotional labor: high-lows, insecurities, and several hours' long phone conversations with friends telling me I could start a novel and finish one. You have my heart in your hands, so handle it with care.

On that note, I think I've said most of what needs to be said and I'll end with a quote from one of my favorite books of all time, Markus Zusak's The Book Thief:

I have hated the words and
I have loved them,
and I hope I have made them right.

You know, it's surreal that you're here. I hope you come out of this unscathed.

Almost.