For every immersion journalist, the issue of trust and betrayal comes up.  How do you handle the fact that you sometimes have to write things about a person that you’ve come to be friends with (or just become fond of) that they really don’t want to see printed?

It is really hard, but I’m of the school of thought that I let them know what I’m doing, and I sort of figure that once I let them know (and I’ll often remind them throughout the process), it’s fair game.  I’ll tell people, “I’m hanging out with you, and I want to be able to use anything you say or do, so if there’s something that you don’t want me to use, just say ‘this is off the record.’ I figure I give people enough chances to do that.  Part of what makes my stories work, I think, is that I spend enough time with people to get beyond the multiple facades of bullshit that we all protect ourselves with, and if they say something that is really revealing about themselves, then I’m happy. Now, if they really thought about it at a later time, maybe they wouldn’t want it in print.  But if it’s really interesting, I’m going to go with it because that is the stuff that really shows who they are.  That’s why I’m hanging out with them as much as I am.  I want to observe them being real.  Now there are cases when people say things that are really, really embarrassing –and if I feel that it’s embarrassing enough and it doesn’t really add to the story, I won’t use it.  But I can only think of about 10 times where I really had to sit down and agonize about whether to use something someone told me.  I don’t think it’s my job to protect people from their honesty, especially since I give them every chance to tell me anything they want off the record. Honesty is what makes a story compelling. If I’m complicit in their bullshit, I don’t see how that serves the reader.  With that said, there are times when I develop such a bond with the people I’m writing about, that I don’t want to see them hurt.  Teenagers, especially, need to be protected from themselves sometimes.

         People tend to really open themselves up to you in your stories. How are you able to earn their trust?

People I’ve written about have said that I put them at ease.  For some reason I’m able to do that with people I write about (now, if I only I could do that in my romantic relationships!).  One of the ways I get people to reveal things, I think, is that I reveal a lot about myself.  So that will give them the freedom to get real with me.  Of course, the difference is that them getting real with me may get published for the world to see, but me getting real with them will probably just stay with them or their friends.  So I realize that it’s not quite equal

You have said that one of the reasons you choose to write about sexuality is that journalists so often get it wrong.  You also have offered the advice to young writers that they should write about what they know.  As a gay man do you think you have a better insight into writing about gay sexuality?

I think so.  I think I could do it, but I wouldn’t naturally be as good at writing about women’s sexuality – mostly because it’s sort of a mystery to me!  I often write about things I know, but not always.  For example, in my Down Low piece, I didn’t know much about the Down Low, but I had thought a lot about questions of masculinity.  I’ve always thought of myself as a guy who happens to be gay.  And with the Down Low piece, the fact that they perceived me as masculine was really a huge help.  Even though we were different because I’m out and they’re closeted, they saw me as one of them in a weird way.

I struggle with a lot of the things I write about.  I struggle with compulsions and addictions.  I struggle with sexuality and masculinity issues.  I think about all those things, so in a way I do write about things that I know and that affect me. I do like to write about things that I have a connection with.  I write a lot about on-line culture and chat rooms, and I don’t think I could do that as effectively if I hadn’t spent a lot of time—way too much time, actually—in chat rooms myself.  In a way, my various dysfunctions throughout my life have helped me in my writing.

You are working on your first book.  How are you finding the experience of writing a book?  

Writing a book is really scary.  I’m not at the point where I’m flowing, by any stretch of the imagination.  I have a hard time taking things a day at a time – write 500 or 1000 words today, 500 or 1000 words the next day, and then eventually I’ll have a book.  I’m not great with that kind of discipline, so writing can seem daunting.  But it’s also very exciting. The research is exciting, and I’m thinking about the subject all the time.

Did you have to write a very detailed book proposal?

Yeah, but the book is not going to look anything like the proposal.  I’m following 8 or 9 different kinds of addicts over about 2 years, and I’m going in and out of their lives, that will be the narrative thrust, and from there going into the larger issues of addiction in America.  But the challenge is going to be structuring that.  How do I structure these 8 or 9 different stories?   How do I keep the narrative going? How do I then go from the stories to the larger issues I want to explore?   That’s what I’m obsessing about these days.

I’m always interested in what writers read.  What are you reading these days? (unrelated to research for the book)

I read a lot of magazines.  I read the New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Esquire, GQ, Details, Atlantic Monthly, Sports Illustrated, Harper’s, Rolling Stone.  Clearly, if I actually read all of them cover to cover every month, I’d never get any work done.  But I do try to read at least some of the articles every month.  For nonfiction, I love to read Michael Lewis, Tom Junod, Susan Orlean, Gary Smith, Will Hylton, Erik Hedegaard, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc, Ted Conover, Charlie Pierce, Tracy Kidder, William Langewiesche, Lauren Slater, Zev Borrow, Sean Flynn, Michael Paterniti, and many others.

As for fiction, I don’t read nearly as much as I’d like—or should.  But some of my favorite fiction writers are Allan Hollinghurst, Adam Haslett, Pat Conroy, Jane Hamilton, Scott Heim, and Ethan Canin.  I’ve always admired people who can write great fiction.  I’ve tried writing short stories, but, sadly, my imagination just isn’t fertile enough.

RITA RADOSTITZ is the associate editor of Etude.