Sex on the brain

Am reading Mr Hollinghurst's fifth novel, The Stranger's Child, which led me to this Guardian Review, from which comes this snippet.

When asked if could imagine writing a book with no gay characters or gay themes? Pause. "I still slightly feel there are a lot of those around already, and I'm not sure my heart would be completely in it."

I think Mr H might be on to something there, don't you?

Beach ballet: why we travel

Honestly, it was like a ballet. I was sitting amid the clutch of palm trees that nowadays has grass growing between them, and reading the Stefan Zweig autobiography that’s been on my bookshelves for over 5 years and I’ve only just got round to reading. The slight coincidence is that I brought it on my Andalusian holiday with me because I’m reading the draft of my novel, which is partly set in Torremolinos, though much of it is sat in Vienna. The spark for Part 2 of my novel was seeing a lightly clad lad playing ball near these very palm trees over five years ago.

Zweig's biography is much about Vienna, admittedly 100 years later than the Schubertian part of my novel and 100 years earlier than my protagonists’ activities there. No matter, it’s enlightening in many ways. 

Slowly invading my peripheral hearing, a few German words. As I looked around, a group of 15 year old boys were changing into their swimming costumes. They were wrapping towels around their waists, removing their underwear and slipping on their budgie smugglers, far more colourful than all the budgies in the world united. They dropped their towels and some of them pulled board shorts over them. 

Then they moved from the wings to centre stage. This was onto the beach, directly in front of me, with two palm trees marking the proscenium arch slightly beyond which they performed. There were 12 of them, and since there was not an ounce of fat on their bodies between them,  and they were so comfortable with each other in their kicking a ball around in completely free-form fun, I can only assume that they are a sports team. But they were quiet, gently playful, no rough-n-tumble, no teasing, no rough-housing, yet neither did they display any particular overt intimacy. Naive, simple mateship, swarm like behaviour with no-one emerging as a leader. They gambolled on the beach, kicked the ball into the quite cold water, dove into the wavelets to retrieve it. This went on for about an hour. 

There were no adults in charge, not even any clock demanding that they pack up, yet at an unstated point, like migrating creatures,  they started heading off stage towards the open showers where they had left the clothes, washed the sand off themselves, and out of their swimming costumes, pulled down the backs to rinse out their cracks. They were laughing and joshing with each other the whole time, but in quite a respectful, private school way. No towel flicking, no attempts to pull each other’s togs off, no loud voices, no swearing, no teasing, just a lovely respectful camaraderie. 

I’ve never seen anything like it my life. And I didn’t make much progress with Herr Zweig’s biography thanks to this most exquisite, fascinating distraction. 

Now at Amazon

Just came across my little volume in the Amazon.co.uk catalogue. Wow. That's cool.

Every Good Boy Deserves Fruit

Ok, so it's only been a decade in the making, but thanks in no small part to Lulu.com, my very own soap opera, Every Good Boy Deserves Fruit, is now published as an ebook. The paper copy is coming very soon.


I originally wrote it to use as the basis of an e-learning course, but like so many projects, the 90% perspiration was never quite there to bring it to fruition.

It's set in the lovely Czech city of Brno, and includes a romantic excursion to Vienna. There is a healthy mix, or an unhealthy one, some might say, of Czechs and ex-pats engaged in all sorts of business activities and not all of them involve money exchanging hands. Sometimes it's the hands exchanging that makes it a bit steamy at times.

Bear in mind that it was written for gay guys learning English as a foreign language, not as an attempt on great literature. This also explains why each chapter begins with some vocabulary and cultural notes.

Anyway, the boys are lying in wait for you at Lulu, should such a read take your fancy. And if you are only interested in it for the cover picture, well, I can't blame you. He's a little hottie for sure. Let me know and I'll pass on your compliments.

Nifty authors

Calling all Nifty authors, I wonder if I could include you in my G+ Circles, or is that tantamount to Spam?

Smoke, lilies and jade

here was the cafeteria...it was almost as though it had journeyed to meet him...the night was so blue...how does blue feel...or red or gold or any other color...if colors could be heard he could paint most wondrous tunes...symphonious... think... the dulcet clear tone of a blue like night...of a red like pomegranate juice...like Edith’s lips...of the fairy tones to be heard in a sunset...like rubies shaken in a crystal cup...of the symphony of Fania...and silver...and gold...he had heard the sound of gold...but they weren’t the sounds he wanted to catch...no... they must be liquid...not so staccato but flowing variations of the same caliber...there was no one in the cafe as yet...he sat and waited...

Richard Bruce Nugent 's prose composition in FIRE!!, "Smoke, Lilies and Jade," has the distinction of being the first published work written from an explicitly homosexual perspective by a black author.

what we do with our belts

Most of the verbs on the left of belt are concerned with undoing the said item. On the right side of said item, we start to get an idea of the consequences of the said undoing.

Pretty Boys All in a Row

I'm reading a hilarious book at the moment about a middle aged guy who'd more or less given up on it all, and to his delight found that plenty of people older than him are seriously into sex and even more delightfully, people younger than him are into him.  


On reading the back cover blurb, I thought it was all just a bit close to the bone, in the nicest possible way.On reading it I realised that I would have to move to Ibiza. Damn that Spanish language.


Three cheers for Book Guild Publishing and three queers for the author, Andrew Kay. I was hoping to put the picture of him that appears on the back of the book, but no can find.

Masturbation is not a crime

I had never intended to show cocks and their attendeant bits on this site, but given that the Nifty.org tale Straight boy roommate by Kevtrainerboy kicks off with T-shirt with the same slogan, I had to break this promise to myself. I have no idea where this picture came from ... just one that I've collected over the years, and found in a folder deep in the twisted hierarchy of one of my memory devices.

Update Oct 2010: the picture disappered, so no cocks anyway. Instead a T-shirt from Both Big and Clever online shop. I hope they don't mind me advertising them :-)

If you'll forgive me quoting myself, here's what I wrote to Kev upon reading the first instalment:

Years of reading Nifty and a story keeping not only a smile of amusement but one of admiration on my face all day is not only rare but unheard of. Am just rereading it in my fav cafe in Norwich, and it is indeed a jolly tale. Both characters adorable in their own ways. The use of 'cunt' to die for. Lots of little things adding up to wonderful read.

He wrote back, and when I later added

I want to write the musical :-) Emo boy's a bit of a fly in the vaseline, n'est-ce pas?

He replied thus:

I laughed out loud at your email. Brilliant! Who shall we get to star in it when it goes to the West End? If Zac Efron is available, he could play the geeky roommate, maybe?

Were the world mine

I am very much hoping to see this at the Sydney Mardi Gras film festival and it's the only film worth seeing, as far as I can see. They're showing that Boystown, which I thought was called Chuecatown, and saw at Mezipatra in November and liked little. Mulligans might be interesting. From this trailer, it does seem that Were the world mine has singer-dancers-actors doing the singing, dancing and acting, unlike Mama Mia, Sweeney Todd and Moulin Rouge.