I must warn you before I start this post; it does contain a shameless
plug for my new book, Diva Dave and Fat Sue.
I don’t know how it is for other authors, but when I have just finished
a book I don’t bother ever reading it again or visiting the characters again;
for me, the project is over.
The above book, Diva Dave and Fat Sue (twice, and I haven’t started
yet) was a long time in finishing. I started writing it three years ago and I
just didn’t know where to go with it. I have released three other books since I
started to write it.
The reason I’m telling you this is because I had no sooner finished the
book and sent it over to the publishers when I seemed to be drawn into the parallel universe of the story.
The story is about two young teenagers who want only to perform so they
enter the biggest talent contest on TV called 'The Factory’. The problem is the
act they have is the young boy dressing up in women’s clothes and singing Barry
Manalow songs while his friend, a young girl, plays blue grass banjo. The story
is a comedy about fame, friendship and the entertainment industry.
I promise not to plug the book any more, only to say it will be out in all
good and bad bookshops soon.
This week we, my wife and I,
caught up with some friends and spent a night out with them. They happen to be
a gay couple, so we ended up in quite a few gay bars. Some so-called gay bars
seem to be full of heterosexual women and a few nervous looking heterosexual
men, and very few actual gay people. I suppose they are a sort of gay theme
pub?
Real gay bars are, for me, really interesting places. You get the 'Divas’
- the guys who dress up in female clothes - I’m not talking about transgender; I’m
talking about the divas who like to be seen. They strut around, dressed in
pantomime sexuality, and for me are a thing of nightmares. But when you meet
these guys without the mask, they are the total opposite of their alter egos.
I’m sorry if my terminology is not PC but the next group are what I like
to call the 'Queens.’ We all know this group. This is the group that all bad
sitcoms like to portray gay people as, the limp-wristed camp bitches! One of my
friends falls into this category. He has a wicked sense of humour, even I have
to tell him to stop sometimes, as he has an acid tongue that burns deep when he
lets go, but he’s very funny. I always see a sense of deep insecurity with the
queens, as if they use the nasty comments to keep others at arms length.
The next group are just regular people who love and lust after the same
sex as themselves. One of my friends didn’t come out until he was in his
thirties, and I had no idea how he felt or that he was gay; how sad. There must
be millions of people in the same position as him. Having to deny themselves a
chance of happiness and love because society dictates they must behave and
think something contrary to what their heart and mind tells them.
While I was in one of these bars, one of my friends told one of the divas
what I do for a living and that I have a radio show (Phoenixfm 96.7 Wednesday
2-4 pm). He did this because he knew that the divas have the same effect on me as
clowns do for others, they make me feel uncomfortable to say the least, I told
you he was a Queen!
I was soon confronted by two six foot men dressed as Madonna in her ‘slut’
period! They had low-cut tops showing what looked like real breasts, and
knickers, fishnets and knee length boots. Their wigs were eighties back combed
and the make up was very ‘Widow Twanky’
They decided to 'audition' for me, though what they expected me to do for their
careers is beyond me! But it got worse one of them sang ’Don’t Rain on my
Parade’, while the other accompanied him on the spoons! This is just like a
scene from my book (sorry).
They then explained who they were
and what they did for a living? One of them was a doctor, he kept on telling me
he wasn’t gay! Again just like the main character in my boo…(sorry).
I told him I don’t care what sexuality my doctor is, I want him to cure
me, not sleep with me. They were very funny, and once you got used to the
clothing they just seemed strangely like two 'ordinary' people. It must have been
the drink. Oddly, they told me that they got hit on by supposedly straight
blokes all the time when they dressed up.
I have invited them on to my radio show; I’m sure it will make very funny
listening, the doctor told me he is working out in Brazil for a few months with
a charity helping street children - see what I mean about how appearances can be
deceptive - but he will be in the land of cross dressing though! So he should
get quite a few tips on dressing up. Me, I think I’ll stick to my boring man
clothes!
PS, did I mention that I have a new book coming out soon called Diva
Dave and Fat Sue?
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