The material provides plenty of possibilities for inner struggles. Some graphic novels have addressed this--Secret Identity by Busiek and Immonen is one of the best--but generally speaking, there is an assumption that only Batman has angst. Superman is all about the external problems.
Truth is, Superman has lots and lots to worry about, especially if he is as ethical as Superman is supposed to be. Superman's internal issues don't come down to "oh, I feel so bad about my dead parents!" angst, which may be why most writers avoid Superman's inner life. (Face it: death is easier to write about.) But issues of identity, self-doubt, and morality are certainly there.
So here are Lorry & Clark again with more inner voice dialog from both characters. I start with the gay stuff, then move into the ethical stuff. I'm not sure if I'll cover all 4 seasons, but I will be covering most of Season 1:
"The Pilot"Clark Kent, 26, 6’2”, Kryptonian, was not “out” to his adoptive parents, Martha and Jonathan Kent.
They took him in, a baby who’d fallen to Earth in a spaceship. They raised him. They protected him. They coped when he began to manifest more and more superpowers.
“Hey, Mom and Dad, by the way, I’m gay” was a shock he preferred not to deliver. It didn’t matter how many school assemblies spouted off about diversity. One more difference, Clark decided, is one too many.
So he dated girls, took Lana Lang to the prom, stayed a virgin, which luckily—even in twentieth-first-century Kansas—was, well, not exactly a norm but at least an expectation. He could claim a desire to stay on his parents’ and pastor’s good sides without too much push-back or rolled eyes. It wasn’t as if most of the boys he knew weren’t virgins too (no matter how big they talked). In any case, he suspected that the girls he dated, including Lana, were relieved at his “chivalrous” attitude.
He graduated from high school, went to college, got a degree in journalism, traveled abroad, lost his virginity in the spiritual if not technical sense, moved to Metropolis.
And met Lorry, Lawrence Lane, reporter for The Daily Planet.
And the world got a lot more complicated.
One more thing.
* * *
Lawrence (Lorry) Lane, 25, 5’9”, Daily Planet staff member, never wanted to be anything other than an investigative reporter. Get inside the story. Learn the truth. Find out things nobody else knows (yet). Be the fly on the wall. Bursting into Perry White’s office with a story about the space program, a story that mattered, he glowered at the way-too-handsome, excessively polite guy with the perfect hair, perfect teeth, and shy smile. Straight, Lorry told himself. Not reporter-material. Not my type.
“Who's the cutie?” Cat Grant from Lifestyles & Fashion asked as Lorry escaped Perry’s office followed by Perry’s hollers that Lorry “get me that theater story!”
Lorry shrugged. The “cutie” was not his problem.
Until Perry hired the cutie—who stole Lorry’s theater story; okay, sure, whatever, Lorry didn’t want the theater story, but still—and assigned him to Lorry.
Okay, yes, maybe Lorry took too many chances. And maybe he got pulled into stories at the expense of other assignments. And maybe he needed someone to be his gopher.
What he didn’t need was a babysitter.
“He’s a hack,” he told Perry and glowered at Kent, who smiled benignly back.
Perry sputtered. Kent waited with more patience than Lorry could muster in his pinky let alone his entire body.
Straight, he reminded himself.
“Let’s go,” he said brusquely. “I like to stay on top of things.”
He was almost at the elevators when he heard Kent say softly, “I’m sure you prefer to top.”
Lorry spun around, glared. Kent smiled benignly. Patiently. Non-threateningly. Innocently.
Except there was glint in his eye.
So the big guy has a sense of humor. Huh.
By the end of the day, after multiple interviews with space program personnel, during which Kent continued to stay preternaturally calm and good-humored, Lorry had to admit that his temporary partner wasn’t...totally useless.
* * *
Lawrence—Lorry—Lane was trim, fit, always moving, sharp as a tack (as Clark’s mother would say), and a mass of barriers and “keep off” signs. Just as well. Clark was not ready to do anything about his bi- or pan- or whatever-sexuality. Not in any public way that involved coming out and so on and so forth.
Not when he was trying to figure out how to come out as Metropolis’s superhuman protector. A man in civilian clothing who just happened to end up in the middle of sabotaged construction sites and bomb scares and car pile-ups was too suspicious—even if Clark claimed he was there as a reporter. People would start asking questions, would start complaining. He didn't want to lose his job at The Planet, not when he'd finally achieved his dream (no matter how corny that sounded).
Nevertheless: Lorry was super tempting. And quite frankly and cheekily “out,” which Clark envied to no end. When Lex Luthor held a soiree announcing his plans for a privately-owned space station, Clark stood at the nearby bar and watched Lorry unabashedly flirt with the so-called great man. Lorry winked and grinned and swaggered towards the bar. Lex’s eyes stayed on him for a few seconds before some high-powered somebody or other claimed his attention. And Lex Luthor, Clark had already determined, was not easily distracted from his single-minded ambitions. Which just proved Lorry’s attractiveness.
Which, Clark decided, Lorry was utterly unaware of.
Lorry got to the bar, ordered a soft drink. He gave Clark a sideways glower and hunched his shoulders.
“Lex is bi,” he said belligerently. “I want an interview.”
Clark smiled because saying, Yeah, I gathered, and I wish you’d flirt with me that way wasn’t a possibility.
Then Lorry sighed and produced a quick-silver smile. “Yeah, well, I’m not in that guy’s wheelhouse,” he said into his drink. “Or yours. Don’t fall for me, farm boy.”
Too late.
* * *
Life wasn’t awful. Lorry had a good story, an okay (temporary) reporting partner. Maybe his (temporary) partner was occupying his thoughts a little too much these days (Straight, remember?) but life could be worse.
Life didn’t get worse. It got way more complicated. First, the space shuttle blew up. Lex Luthor offered to move forward the building of his privately-owned station. The Congress of Nations thanked him kindly but refused his offer of collaboration. Lorry, Clark, and Jimmy—The Daily Planet’s newest photographer—then uncovered a conspiracy to sabotage the Program’s latest project. Lorry finagled a place on board the remaining space transport vehicle. Not his smartest move, since it had also been sabotaged with a bomb. And he would have died—except—
Superman showed up. Superman. A humanoid wearing a garish costume—with flapping cape—walked—no, flew—onto the space transport vehicle. He dismantled—swallowed—the bomb, burped slightly, smiled at Lorry and introduced himself to the rest of the passengers, as if his appearance was everyday normal.
And then he picked up Lorry and flew him back to The Daily Planet.
Lorry’s life was never going to be the same again.
What a scoop!
