Lehmkuhl has penned a surprisingly readable account of his experiences under America’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (DADT) military policy.

The narrative is well-presented with simple, conversational prose. It helps that Lehmkuhl details most of his experiences in a dramatic way (showing, not telling) through dialogue and action. This brings his stories to life for the reader, and yields a book that is well-paced and well-structured.

He starts with his youth and adolescence, but the main thrust of Here’s What We’ll Say focuses on his time in the Air Force Academy as a gay man. The multilayered account reveals interesting facts not just about gay life there, but also simply about the world of a military academy. I have very little exposure to the military world, and I enjoyed learning about a strange and unfamiliar universe.

Lehmkuhl’s account sometimes veers into steamy. He doesn’t shy from writing about sexual experiences when appropriate. I found that information to add another layer of nuance, but I’m glad it doesn’t go over the top. This is not an erotic account of a string of sexual encounters in the military.

The author intersperses commentary and philosophical consideration amid his recounted experiences. Who knew Mr. Lehmkuhl has such depth? He writes about the implications and effects of homophobia in general and DADT in particular, and I found his arguments well-reasoned and well-spoken. Yes, of course, I’m biased to agree with him because I already believe DADT is homophobic, but it still says something that he’s able to marshal his arguments in a highly articulate and thoughtful manner.

Nevertheless, Here’s What We’ll Say suffers from some weaknesses.

First and foremost, Lehmkuhl includes a disclaimer at the beginning that some of the experiences he recounts, especially in the last few chapters, belong to other people. While I appreciate his reasoning for taking this approach, it damages the book’s internal validity and external usefulness. Specifically, it renders the book less reputable as a source document. How can I refer to it as a work of pure non-fiction when it’s been fictionalized, and there’s no way for me to tell what’s true and what’s not? I can’t help but think there’s another approach that would yield the same value while helping maintain a greater degree of journalistic integrity.

Additionally, the beginning (his youth and adolescence) goes on a little too long, while the end comes too fast. The finale glosses over many of Lehmkuhl’s more recent and better known accomplishments.

Lehmkuhl seems to have a reputation as an attention whore. This book does not support that assertion. In fact, I wish he had spent more time on his later adventures. Regardless of his relationship with the media, he’s enjoyed some fascinating experiences. I would have loved to hear more about his experiences with Chip; the television show The Amazing Race; and dealing with such a high level of visibility as an out, proud gay man in a committed partnership. And of course, I would have been interested in hearing more about his relationship with Lance Bass. But then, they were still encoupled when this book was published.

I scored high on the Gay Positivity Scale. Clearly, DADT is not gay-positive; but Here’s What We’ll Say is a work of (sort of) non-fiction exploring the issue. I can’t fault the book’s positivity because of a government policy. Rather, I admire Lehmkuhl’s self-confidence and empowered response. The book reveals a man who makes the best of living in a virulently anti-gay atmosphere, and that is very positive.