Like so many bastards sons of the sixties, I was raised without a persistent male role model. While I was blissfully unaware of the devastating effect this would have on my psyche (I own five colors of nail polish, and still carry liquid eyeliner around in my murse like it’s a survival tool), it’s clear to me now that in my own way I’ve been filling the Man Gap with fictional characters since the earliest age I can remember. Continue reading