These Things Happen

By Richard Kramer

A domestic story told in numerous original and endearing voices. The story opens with Wesley, a tenth grader, and involves his two sets of parents (the mom and her second husband, a very thoughtful doctor; and the father who has become a major gay lawyer/activist and his fabulous "significant other" who owns a restaurant).

Wesley is a fabulous kid, whose equally fabulous best friend Theo has just won a big school election and simultaneously surprises everyone in his life by announcing that he is gay. No one is more surprised than Wesley, who actually lives temporarily with his gay father and partner, so that he can get to know his rather elusive dad. When a dramatic and unexpected trauma befalls the boys in school, all the parents converge noisily in love and well-meaning support. But through it all, each character ultimately is made to face certain challenges and assumptions within his/her own life, and the playing out of their respective life priorities and decisions is what makes this novel so endearing and so special.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unbridled Books
• Release date: Nov 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781609530907

Richard Kramer

Richard Kramer has worked as a manufacturers' agent for over 20 years. He has been actively doing church work, various volunteer work, and serving the Lord for over 30 years. During this time, he suffered through many difficult moments. At one point, Richard found himself homeless. It was the Lord who helped him climb back up and keep going on. At that period of his life, he learned that life requires a relationship of complete trust in and dependence on the Lord.

Book preview

1. Wesley

Alot can happen in a day, sometimes. Not every day, of course. Most have one event, and that's if you're lucky.

          Many have less, which seems especially true in our school, which is hard to get into and committed to serving the community but is also, as a rule, unthrilling. Maybe things pick up in eleventh grade, which is when Mr. Frechette, a teacher we like, says our brains have developed to the point where we can grasp irony, accept ambivalence, and acknowledge the death's head that lurks at the edge of all human endeavor. His exact words; I put them in my phone. We'll see, although I trust him. Mr. Frechette can get sour, but he's also pretty wise.

    Maybe today's a preview of next year, then, because a lot has happened in it, even without the death's head. School's out. Theo and I are on our way to tae kwon do. Wherever you look, whoever and whatever you see seems glad to be a New Yorker, not just people but buildings, and pigeons, and signs. As for tae kwon do, we've been going since we were seven, and we're sixteen now, or will be. We're both excellent at it, which our gyosa Marshall says isn't bragging if you really are and can truly own it. Theo's my best friend, and always has been. He says that's just because he's the only boy in my school who's not named Max or Jake, but that's not it at all (which he knows). It's simple. He bores easily. So do I. But we don't bore each other, and that's since in utero, practically, as our moms met in Lamaze class and got to be friends. He got his name because his mom wrote a book about the loser relatives of famous artists. Theo Van Gogh was Vincent Van Gogh's brother; Mrs. Rosen, Theo's mom, pronounces the name (I quote Theo here) "like she was choking on a rugelach. Theo V.G. knew Vincent was the talented one and worked hard to make sure the world knew it, too. I admire that, and hope I would do the same, if I had a brother who was an insane depressed genius, which I don't. I'm an only child. He died, though, Theo Van Gogh, that is, chained to a wall and crazy due to the effects of syphilis, which was quite popular at the time. I asked Theo if he was worried that something like that might happen to him. Are you being facetious?" he said. There was a time, not long ago, when we used to ask that after we pretty much said anything; we mostly just liked the word. He said he wasn't scared, especially. His mom just wanted him to sound special. But he saw my point. He always does, as I see his. And his are solid, I feel. I don't know what he thinks of mine, but one can only assume that he finds them solid, as well, because we hang out, text frequently, and dislike the same people.

   Now that we're out and free I'd like to get right into the things that changed the day from ordinary to interesting. The first is that Theo was elected president of our grade, swept in on a sea of change, like Obama was, which always made me think of an ocean of dimes and nickels. I was his campaign manager and am proud to say we never went negative, although we could have against his opponent, Shannon Traube, who posted pictures of herself on Facebook giving out cookies her maid had baked to homeless guys, in boxes. Other things happened, too, historic ones, even. But even on a day like this you still need the stuff of an ordinary day, too. Maybe you need it more. So before I get into what took place as recently as lunchtime, we do what we do every day, without fail. We call it Facts. Just simple, like that. Because it's a simple thing, and one we've been doing since we were ten. We each are responsible for one Fact that the other guy wouldn't have known but would be interested in, a fact that has no other purpose than to be a) cool and b) somewhat disturbing. One might guess, and one would be right, that Nazis tend to get overrepresented, not to mention the Japanese ( prisoner-of-war camps, not the economic miracle). But you have to work with what's out there. There are certain truths that are universally acknowledged, and you're a moron if you don't know them.

   Fact, I say.

   Awesome, says Theo, which is a word frowned upon in our school, especially by Mr. Frechette. He feels it should only be applied to Balanchine, whatever that is.

   The Nazis made it illegal for Jews to buy flowers.

   Fuck. He stops walking. He has tears in his eyes, and he's not a sentimental person. That really depresses me.

   Dude, I say, "that's mankind."

   I know. It's still fucked, though.

   I promise: nothing to do with Germany for a week. So what's your Fact?

   It's French. We both like maps, so I'm sure, pretty much, that he's doing what I am, which is seeing Europe, the map of it, that is, picturing Germany, France touching it, Belgium and Switzerland mixed in there in chunks, as with a Ben and Jerry's flavor.

   France, I say. Good. France isn't Germany.

   No, Wesley, says Theo, it's not. He punches my arm. I punch his. Fact: at Versailles, they used to shit on the stairs.

   You mean the king and everyone?

   I think it was more friends and family.

   I like that.

   Yeah, he says. It's good. So now that we've done historic Facts—

   We need to get into today's.

   My speech.

   He means his acceptance speech, given today after he won the election. I helped him write parts of it, the future pledges material, in which he promised universal health care, sustainable snacks in vending machines, and an end to the settlements (our school likes us to pretend that we're real people). Then came the part I didn't help with. Theo put down his notes. He drank some water. Then he said, I thank you for this mandate. I shall try to lead wisely, but not annoyingly. And now, in the spirit of full disclosure and governmental transparency, I would like to share with you that not only am I your new president but I am also, to be quite frank, a gay guy.

   There were a couple gasps, but people seemed okay with it, pretty much, except for Jake Krantz, who has a rage coach, and shouted, "I never would have voted for you! And Shannon had some doubts. You're sure that wasn't just to get the gay vote? she asked Theo, when it was over. You're actually, truly gay?"

   Well, in the interests of clarity, he told her, "you're looking at the gay vote. Me. Which I did get, because I voted for myself. And let me add I did what I did after I won, which you might be aware is unusual in politics. I'm just saying. So keep that in mind."

   Oh, I will, she said. Don't worry. She laughed in a way that I think was meant to sound chilling and sophisticated but wasn't, really. Then she turned to me. So, are you?

   Am I what? I asked.

   Gay, she said. Bi. Anything.

   I didn't know what to say. No one had ever asked me anything like that. I mostly get asked things like have I finished The Bluest Eye, or am I really planning to wear that shirt, or would I like to go to the Frick on Sunday. But to have a person ask me what I am? I dealt with the question as best I could.

   Fuck you, I said, which is more or less where we left it.

   More later, said Shannon, going into a cupcake place.

   So now here we are, and all that's behind us.

   I completely want to get into all that, Theo says, about what I did and what happened. But first I have to ask you some things, if that's cool. They're really important.

   I can pretty much guess what his questions might be and, of course, I know what mine are. Why didn't he tell me ahead of time that he was going to come out in his speech today? That's one. Or, for that matter, that he was gay? But enough. He should go first. The big day is really his.

   So, I say, you want to ask me something.

   It's easy, he says. What are old gay guys like?

   My guess was right.

   Seeing as how I'm surrounded by them, I say then. And by old gay guys I take it you refer, obviously, to my dad and George.

   My dad's gay, but wasn't always, and George is his partner. George was an actor once, but gave that up and now owns and runs a restaurant in the theater district, in a brownstone. He and my dad own the building, and we live on the top floor. I've been there the past two months, for this school term, so my dad and I can get to know each other as men, since the belief is I might soon become one.

   Like what do they talk about, for example? Theo asks. What kind of things come up in gay settings?

   I think of things. It's easy. I'm a magnet, it seems, for a hundred gay paper clips, flying at me and sticking. There's so much.

   For example?

   Well, I say, benefits are a big topic.

   Like in health care, you mean?

   It's nice, for once, to be the Expert Guy on a subject, as we're usually Expert Guy on the same things. "Benefit concerts, I say, to raise money, for various gay things. Like marriage, say, or suicide, or trannies. They like to talk about who's going to sit at whose table. George makes a lot of charts. And there's awards dinners, too. They talk about that."

   Awards for what?

    Their courage, pretty much, I say. And compassion.

   Is there cash involved?

   Just plaques, usually. There's these plastic shapes, too, that are like symbolic of something. My dad has dozens. He probably has a hundred, but I don't want to brag. I'm proud of him. He's given his life to the general gay good, and he had a late start.

   Huh, Theo says. Interesting. What else comes to mind?

   I realize, in this time with my dad and George, that I've been listening pretty closely. Costa Rica has been big lately, I say.

   What about it?

   Old gay guys go there. In groups, it seems. They talk about houses, and maids. George keeps a list on the refrigerator. They do that, old gay guys. They make lists on paper. They don't put things in their phones.

   Theo grabs hold of this, like a CSI guy staring at a carpet fiber. Costa Rica, he says. What makes it gay and Nicaragua not? That's rhetorical. I'm interested, but it can wait. So what are some other subjects?

   Well, there's food, obviously, with George's restaurant. Old or dead actresses. And they talk about Dutch things, like how streets got their names. It seems that to be an old gay guy in New York you have to really love it and know some Dutch facts. George is big on that, anyway.

   I'm more interested in gay things than Dutch ones, though, he says. Today, anyway. No offense.

   None taken. And marriage is a major thing they talk about, obviously, I say. That's my dad's big cause, or one of them, anyway. He's always on tv talking about it, because not only is he an impressive and persuasive guy, he's articulate and handsome, too, all the things I'm not. When marriage equality passed in New York Governor Cuomo specifically thanked my dad for all his work. The next day, people left flowers for him at the restaurant. One guy knitted him a scarf.

   I think of one more thing. And there's something called Merman.

   Merman? What is that?

   I'm not really sure, but I don't let on, as I like Theo thinking I might know things he doesn't.

   That's more a subject of George's than it is my dad's, I say. He gets into that a lot with Lenny. Lenny is George's oldest friend. They met at theater camp, when they were eleven. He runs the restaurant with George.

Lenny the gay guy, you mean, says Theo.

   Well, they're all gay guys, I tell him. But to varying degrees, which you'll find out about. Same with Merman.

   He looks a little worried. It's probably a sex thing, right?

   Gross, I say.

   What is?

   Gay sex. Obviously.

   Like you know so much about it, he says.

   "How much do you know? I ask. Have you even had sex? Like where you actually hook up with a real person and have it?"

   I really think that's my personal business. He chuckles, with a tinge of sadness that is obviously meant for me.

   So you haven't, then.

   Well, he says, I did meet this one guy online. We chatted and stuff. He goes to NYU, to Tisch. He wanted to trade pictures? So he sent me one of him, sort of nude, but not showing his junk.

   I didn't know any of this, but I try not to seem surprised. "Did you send one? Do you have pictures of your junk?"

   Well, he says, no. I sent a picture of me as Tevye. Last year, at our school, Theo played Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. He was excellent. I didn't hear back from him.

   But he was the only one?

   He chuckles again, in that sad-for-me style. Oh, no.

   Anyone from our school? I try to picture who it might be.

   I must say, Wesley, Theo says, sounding just a little bit English, that I do think that's private.

   So you've never had sex, then.

   I didn't say that.

   You've done things? Like let guys fuck you in the ass and stuff ?

   He looks worried again for a moment, looks down and lowers his voice. The thing is? he says. I'm sort of a top. He sneezes. I think. I could be wrong, though. I've never actually hooked up. Maybe I never will! I don't know. Who has time? Why would I want to hook up when I could be learning new SAT words or giving back to the community? Our school is famous for the concept of giving back, which they start beating into our heads in third grade. We're here, he says.

   We are, at Eighty-sixth and Second, right outside tae kwon do. I'm just coming back to it, as I had to take a few weeks off. I broke a toe at 2:00 A.M. at Dad and George's, from a stubbing I endured when I woke up hungry and went in the dark to the kitchen, where there are always eleven cheeses and foreign crackers and cookies made of ground-up nuts. I said, Fuck! very quietly, but George heard me and got up. He didn't even say anything; he just made an ice pack and grilled half a sandwich for me in his panini press. Then we talked for a while, also very quietly. We didn't want to wake my dad.

   I'm fine now, though. We should get in there, I say to Theo. I see a muffin on the steps, with no owner in sight, sitting there like it's just enjoying the day.

   Wait, he says. Everything you say seems to be about George, pretty much. What about your dad?

   What about him?

   "He's an old gay guy, right? So what's he like?"

   My dad. I look at the muffin again, and realize I'm starved. Well, he's got green eyes, like mine, and a similar chin. I touch mine. We have clefts, my dad and I; Ben, my stepdad, says we could both keep change there. And he's a fine person, of course.

   That I know.

   Like who doesn't. Sometimes I think I could mention my dad to a cop on a horse, or the horse itself, and they'd say, Oh, yes, I admire him immensely. And there's squash, I say. The game, not the vegetable. He plays at the Yale Club. He might teach me, even, when he's got time.

   Did George go to Yale?

   He didn't go to any college. He was just in shows.

   I'll have to learn all this stuff, I guess, says Theo. Not to mention new gay stuff. Maybe your dad would talk to me.

   So can I go now, with what I want to ask you? I hear the chant that starts tae kwon do, but I don't care. You can probably guess what it is.

   Why didn't I tell you I was going to do all that today.

   Why didn't you tell me you were going to do that today? I ask.

   I totally would have, he says. Definitely. Unquestionably.

   Stop using adverbs. I've picked this up from Mr. Frechette, who is passionate on the subject of their overuse. Just answer.

   I would have, Theo says again, and more, too, but at just that moment girls pass, the kind of girls I think of as New York girls, although they can be from anywhere. I stop listening to Theo, or hearing, anyway. They're all texting and talking and smiling at their phones, like they were better than boyfriends. The girl with the fastest fingers stops for a moment. She smiles, not at me, I'm sure, but it's a smile in my direction all the same. And suddenly, standing there, I'm not there. I know just where I am, though, where I've gone, which is to a park, in my mind, where I lie on clean, warm grass while the fast-fingered girl texts all over me, my whole body and my cock, too, little secrets everywhere. And then I hear Theo again, and come back.

   And I guess the biggest reason I didn't tell you, he says, is that I didn't know it was going to happen. It came out on its own, one might say. Like it had been waiting, for the right event.

   So have you been gay all along, do you think?

   Probably, he says. I don't think it was sudden, like a hive or a nosebleed. I don't think that happens, but there might be recorded cases. There are always recorded cases of things.

   But not yours.

   Well, he says, this thing happened once. He puts up his hood, steps into the street, looks both ways as if he's shown up early for a gunfight. If I told you anything, which I'm not saying I'm going to do, it would have to be really private.

   You came out in an assembly!

   It involves a person you know.

    Really? I try not to look too eager, but I can't help running through names in my head, like flash cards. Crispin Pomerantz. Micah Kinzer. Jared Zam. I don't know what makes them seem possibly gay. Maybe it's because I don't like them. But Theo's gay, or he is now, and I like him. I'll bring this up with him, but later. Who?

   Noah, he says,

Reviews for These Things Happen

[cjordan916 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Couldn't get through the first quarter of the bookA domestic story told in numerous original and endearing voices. The story opens with Wesley, a tenth grader, and involves his two sets of parents (the mom and her second husband, a very thoughtful doctor; and the father who has become a major gay lawyer/activist and his fabulous "significant other" who owns a restaurant).Wesley is a fabulous kid, whose equally fabulous best friend Theo has just won a big school election and simultaneously surprises everyone in his life by announcing that he is gay. No one is more surprised than Wesley, who actually lives temporarily with his gay father and partner, so that he can get to know his rather elusive dad. When a dramatic and unexpected trauma befalls the boys in school, all the parents converge noisily in love and well-meaning support. But through it all, each character ultimately is made to face certain challenges and assumptions within his/her own life, and the playing out of their respective life priorities and decisions is what makes this novel so endearing and so special.

[a_reader_of_fictions · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In my recent reads, I've noticed a trend: there seem to be a lot more books now that take place on an accelerated time line. The whole book covering less than a week of time, where I feel like I remember reading a lot more books that took a lot more time. These Things Happens spans only a couple of days, but really packs a wallop nonetheless. Kramer focuses on the power of family, and embraces the larger definition of what a family can be.

These Things Happen reminds me a bit of the show Modern Family, not so much in tone but in the idea of the 'modern family,' full of divorces, remarriages, straight men discovering their gay selves. Wesley's parents divorced ten years before, but, now, his mother sent him to live with his father, Kenny, feeling that in the transition to manhood Wesley should get to know his father. Kenny, a talented lawyer, works as an activist for the gay community and lives in a tiny apartment with his partner George, restaurateur and ex-actor.

The catalyst for the event's of These Things Happen starts with Wesley's best friend, Theo, who, upon winning the student election, concludes his victory speech by announcing to the student body that he is gay. Theo's pronouncement doesn't have an affect on their friendship, but does change Wesley's relationship with his family, in two different ways, one which I can discuss and one which I can't, because it would spoiler things for you.

Theo asks Wesley to speak with Kenny and George, to find out how they first knew they were gay and whether they think that being gay is a choice. Wesley promises to do so, good friend that he is. He never really talked with them about that before, and his sudden interest causes chaos in the family, curiosity about Wesley's interest and introspection on the part of George on how to answer those questions.

My favorite part of this novel, really, is the relationship between George and Wesley. Though George and Wesley are not related, not legally connected in any way, they have a closer relationship than Wesley does with his father, mother or step-father. George might be expected to have the least reason to help Wesley, but he's the one who can always make time and listen. I found this to be such a powerful theme, because I personally never did think that a blood relation indicated any sort of special bond with someone. Families are made, not so much by blood, but by time and caring. He doesn't need to be legally or biologically tied to George for them to have a powerful connection.

Kramer tells this story using multiple perspectives, though the last chapter is in third person, which seems a somewhat odd decision. Each voice has its own cadence and feels unique, the most important factor in using multiple perspectives effectively. Kramer did best, I think with Wesley, who seems the main character of the piece. More than anything, These Things Happen is a coming of age story, and might appeal to both adults and teenagers.

In These Things Happen, Kramer tackles the complicated field of modern familial relationships and weaves a touching story, set in the busy backdrop of New York City. His tale feels utterly authentic and true.

[epkwrsmith · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

SummaryTheo and Wesley are 10th graders enrolled in a posh NYC college prep private school. Their lives are filled with activities and lessons designed to attract Ivy Leage colleges. These are smart kids...kids that keep you guessing what they'll say next and especially what kinds of questions they'll ask next.Kenny is Wesley's father, a high profile lawyer who specializes in defending LGBT rights, who agrees that Wesley should live with him and his partner George for a couple of months "to get to know his father."Kenny's partner George owns the restaurant that they live above and brings his colorful previous life as an actor into their partnership as a softening agent of sorts to Kenny's business sense and constant worklife.Kenny's ex-wife and Wesley's mother Lola is an uptown editor and married to an opthamologist, Ben.An act of violence brings them all to the table to figure out who they all are really and how best their lives should continue.A touching, moving, serious and funny 24 hours in one family's life.What I Likedthe sarcastic humor - don't try to drink your coffee while reading this book...these characters are funny and full of one liners that catch you off guard...you can almost hear the pretend accents they use as they zing the lines at one another - this aspect reminded me of how Robin Williams always switches voices within just one character..."Mrs. Doubtfire," specifically, kept popping in my head :pconstant references to literature, movies, plays and Broadway showsGeorge is a cook and owns an Italian restaurant called Ecco...so there is magnificent food, food and more food throughout this story as well...but not just thrown in any way...a variety of foods, brief snippets of their origins and history, and some preparation offered purposefully as important parts of these characters' lives.the hard questions, the unacceptable "I don't knows."the reminders that we don't really know ourselves as well as we think we doEvery single one of these characters is flawed in some way...but there are no apologies...they are who they are. We never know the bad guys...as a matter of fact, they are only given about 2 seconds worth of book time and are not even described (which is as it should be). The focus is on these characters and their families and how they make sense of the world, their places in it, things they don't understand, and how truly naive they are for thinking they are in some way in control of the events in their lives.What I Didn't LikeLola - I don't blame Lola for anything, so don't get me wrong here. Lola is very much the scapegoat character...her biggest "flaw" is one that even the most progressive minded people in the world have as well. I have this picture in my head of her swooping in and out of her family with the clicking heels and long trench coat...expecting everyone around her to jump.Overall RecommendationI want everybody to read this. I don't know nor do I care if everyone likes it. Just read it. If you walk away with even just 5 minutes worth of questions or a re-examination of who you are based on your pre-conceived notions and stereotypes, then it's been worth it.

[katlvr3969 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This was a quick read. I felt the wording was a little to clever for a couple of teenage characters. I found it a little unbelievable that they would actually talk that way,...I don't know ,maybe its just me that thought that? I guess because of that I found myself skimming through those parts faster than the rest of the book. I did find it to be a thoughtful good read.

[kraaivrouw · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The world has changed so much in my lifetime. Growing up and going to public school, homosexuality wasn't a topic of discussion. My family and our world of friends was extremely diverse so it never occurred to me that anyone thought anything bad about homosexuality. People love each other and that's a good thing, right?Then I entered high school. I was in an arts high school with a very good dance program and one of my friends was a ballet dancer. He was all of 14, an incredible dancer, and one of the best people I've ever known. Talented, creative, passionate, intelligent - to me he was the embodiment of what a great son would look like. He had a serious problem, though. He was an emancipated minor, living on his own because his parents kicked him out of the house and out of their lives for good because a) he was a dancer and boys don't do that, and b) he was gay and boys really didn't do that. I think about him a lot. I still can't understand how parents could reject their child for something so basic and natural.These Things Happen is a witty and sophisticated novel that explores issues related to sexuality, families, and the way and hatred and prejudice all elements of society. Relatable characters, great novel, and real honesty makes this book a great read. I wish my high school friend's parents could have been more compassionate and I hope that the progress I've seen in my lifetime will continue. People love each other. That is a good thing.

[sar96-1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Wesley and Theo are best friends. Theo wins the tenth grade election and during his acceptance speech comes out as gay. Wesley's father, Kenny, lives with his partner, George. Theo's questions: Is being gay a choice? When did you know? Theo and Wesley become targets of violence. Profound things happen; Questions are asked and answered, these things happen.

[starlight70 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Maybe this book appealed to many. I could see it from the reviews. It was because of the reviews that I forked out my money to buy this ebook. I regretted. I did not enjoy the way Kramer tell the story. In fact, I did not care about the coming-out. In fact, I did not care for any of the characters. There were way too much talking.

[omphalos02 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Although Kramer starts his story very well with two extremely likable characters & a compelling premise, after that things take a downward turn - at least as far as pace and story movement. The greater part of the next sections is conversations that are mostly hemming and hawing as Kramer throws up one roadblock after another to keep the story from moving forward - or in any direction at all. The 2 questions that Theo asks Wesley to ask his dad and his boyfriend do not get answered until the actual, literal end of the book. And there's whole lot of "What?" "Well -" and all other kinds of hesitant speaking before then. Wesley actually has the catchphrase of "in the interest of clarity," but the dialog is strangely lacking in this quality. Which is all really too bad, as this is an important topic and could really have been very, very good. I was incredibly happy when it all ended, such as it was.

[roses7184_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's been a long while since I've read a book that made me both laugh and cry on the same page. Richard Kramer's These Things Happen is a book that contains hilarity and introspection, and does it in a way that blurs the line between the two. I fell in love from page one, and you wouldn't have been able to pry this book out of my hands if you tried. I read straight through. That, in itself, is a testament to how amazing this book really is.

It's important to me that I praise the characters first and foremost. Wesley especially stole my heart. Although I'm sure most readers will profess that there is no adolescent out there that talks the way Wesley and his friend Theo do, I really don't care either way. The point remains that Wesley brings a voice to the mix that is sweet and genuine. Add in other vivid and candid characters, and you have a story that just begs to be read. I'd say more, but I really feel like this is something a reader needs to experience for themselves.

I think that Kramer approaches being gay in a way that is unique, and well done. He explores the relationships between his characters in a manner that allows the reader to see the rawest parts of them. Wesley and his very patchwork family each have to learn how to accept and understand one another. At the same time, they must learn who they themselves truly are, and learn to love even the roughest parts. The complexities of familial relationships are taken to a whole new level here, and it's a beautiful thing. I especially loved the ending (there were tears in my eyes, I'll admit it). Yet again though, you'll have to read this on your own to truly understand what I mean.

I know I'm rambling, but I'll end with a truth. These Things Happen is a unique and gorgeously written book. It's a rich tapestry, with a deep look at who we are when we think no one else is looking. I loved this book. Honestly, I'd love to put it on the shelf of every reader out there. If you appreciate a good story, one that deals with important topics in a stunning manner, then this is a read to add to your list.

[sonjayoerg · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

These Things Happen is a big little book. A big little funny book. Two days, a handful of characters, a school, a restaurant, a cramped Manhattan apartment and a roof. We take a peek and Kramer opens up the world.
The skinny: Wesley, a sixteen-year old, is living with his gay dad and his long-term partner, George, as a way to get closer to his dad. Wesley’s mom is happily remarried. As the story begins, Wesley’s best friend, Theo, announces at school he is gay. The opening scenes between Wesley and Theo are worth the price of admission alone.
For me, this book is about parenting, in the broadest sense. We all pretty much agree on how to take care of babies and toddlers; it’s mostly feeding, cuddling and damage control. And during the grade school years, it’s much the same, plus a discussion about which parent really is better at math. But the older the kid gets, the trickier the job. How much truth are they ready for? (How truthful can I stand to be?) When do I peel off the bubble wrap and let them feel the jolts, suffer the bruises? And what do I do if my kid, at sixteen, is begging for answers, for guidance, and the only person strong enough to provide it isn’t his parent at all?
Kramer’s observations are nuanced and his attention is unwavering: a five-minute conversation can run twenty pages and when it’s done, you say, “No, it’s not time for lemon almond ricotta cake. Keep talking.” (Beware: This book will make you hungry.) With great patience and insight, Kramer shows us that the significance of words lies in the gaps between them, in the pauses during which we grapple with how to spell the truth. And no one understands this better than Wesley and George.