Debbie McGowan's Blog, page 23

#WIPpet Wednesday - Reunions - liquid fire - #amwriting

What is WIPpet Wednesday?

WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Witt - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit: http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=355404

* * * * *

It's a long one, but I wanted to post the full scene. I wrote this part of Reunions a while back, but I've missed Josh and Shaunna, so I thought I'd post something about them. Plus, the maths works:

(2016+10)/27=75 sentences

In this scene, it's Christmas Eve, and Shaunna is on Josh-sitting duty whilst George (his husband) is attending a neurology appointment.

Here's the WIPpet:

It was a prime viewing spot; from his location, at one end of Shaunna and Andy’s kitchen table, Josh could see all the way to the bottom of the garden, although his focal point was far closer than that.

“Didn’t you put up the fences at your old place?” he asked Shaunna but with his gaze still fixed on Andy.

“Yep,” Shaunna said, also watching Andy, who presently stopped working, pulled off the thick woolly pullover he was wearing and used it to mop his sweaty brow. Throwing the pullover to one side, he picked up the next fence panel. His jeans slipped down, his t-shirt rose up, his back muscles tensed, and Shaunna and Josh gave a mutual, dreamy sigh.

“According to him, I’m not allowed to do it in my condition.”

Josh nodded thoughtfully, on the outside a calm, contemplative veneer, underneath it a swirling blur of ponderings about how George was doing with Rab McAvoy, if Libby was coping, whether they’d got enough food for all their Christmas guests, if Sean had remembered to mark the third-year essays before he left for— “What condition? Are you pregnant again?”

“Not a chance.”

“He’s being sexist?” Josh’s hair bristled, and he narrowed his eyes.

Shaunna glanced his way and laughed. “I’m too hot for fence-fixing, apparently. I’ll distract the neighbours.”

“Oh!” Josh blushed. “What are your neighbours like?”

“This side—” Shaunna tilted her head to the left “—is Mrs. Lane. She’s lovely, but a major nosey parker. She knows everything about everyone. That side—” Shaunna thumbed to her right “—is the Cousins family. Jo and Mark and their three kids. They’re OK…mostly.”

“Why only mostly?”

“They have…” Now Shaunna blushed. “You know how our house is joined to theirs?”

“Hm?”

“Their bedroom is on the other side of the wall to ours.”

“Oh. Erm, well…music?”

Shaunna grinned. “Yeah, that does drown them out. It’s more…if we can hear them, then…”

“Oh! I meant were they playing loud music, but you mean you can hearing them doing…it?”

“Yep. And they aren’t that noisy. It’s the bed banging on the wall, and—” Shaunna noticed how pink Josh was and burst out laughing. “Sorry. But you did ask.”

“Ah. Hm. Yes, I did. Why don’t you ask Jason where he got the soundproofing for the studio?”

“I would, but it might weird him out.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my daughter’s best friend.”

“She knows you have sex.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Obviously. She wouldn’t exist if you didn’t.”

Shaunna gave him a funny look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She’d seen Josh in this kind of mood a few times now. It was so different to his usual quiet seriousness that sometimes she didn’t know what to say. Now being one of those times. And he was starting to fidget. She reached up and unclipped her hair. “Here. This’ll keep you busy for a while.”

Josh was already on his feet. Moving to stand behind her, he lifted Shaunna’s long wavy locks and ran them between his fingers, smoothing out any knots before he separated her hair into two sections and began plaiting.

“Have you ever considered a career as a hairdresser?” she asked.

“Not even once. Do you think I’d be good at it?”

“You’ve got the listening skills, and a…fascination with hair.”

“Obsession. Yes. But only with your hair.” Josh sighed in contentment, and Shaunna chuckled. She knew what was coming before he said it. “Liquid fire.”

Thanks for reading!
Deb x

Losing my Religion

I've just watched/listened to Pentatonix singing 'Hallelujah', almost to spite the constant posts on social networks that kept declaring it would give me chills.

Well, that backfired gloriously.

I used to be a Christian. A real, actual practising Christian. I went to Sunday school and church every Sunday of my own free will from the age of three or four - I don't recall how old exactly; my memory doesn't stretch back that far.

I loved Sunday school so much, even though I now know that when Mrs. Joss and her grown-up daughter Katrina (who might have only been fifteen, but that was grown up to me) told me 'that's excellent, Debbie' in relation to my paintings, they were lying through their teeth. Still, I guess it's not a sin to lie if it preserves a child's self-esteem, but the fact is, I can't paint now, never mind when I was three, or four, or at any age since.

The Josses held Sunday school Christmas parties at their house, which was exciting, as I didn't get out much, partly because I was asocial and unpopular, partly because of my upbringing.

Imagine that in 2016: Sunday school leaders hosting kids' parties in their houses.

Whilst I loved Sunday school, for the learning, the activities, and the encouragement, my love of the church was of a very different kind. I remember our vicar - who had always been known as 'Father'...something, he had glasses and dark hair - being replaced by the 'Reverend' RJ Brunswick. Regardless of his formidable presence - we lived between the vicarage and the church, and he used to waft past in his black robes like some kind of malevolent dark mist - the people of the parish called him Father anyway. He was, in actuality, very nice, if not a little stern - certainly not the kind of laid-back vicar we were used to.

The church was Anglo-Catholic - or 'high' Church of England - with a sung Mass, although it was sung in English. I loved that, too - the minor keys, the power of the organ reverberating into the rafters, the unity of a hundred voices singing the Gloria, the Credo, the incredible dynamics that we had all learned and perfected -

pp ...he was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered, and was buried, mf and the third day he rose again, according to the Scriptures, ff and ascended into heaven, pp and sitteth on the right hand of the Father...

- standing for the procession and recession, kneeling to pray, singing hymns at the top of my voice, examining my surroundings in extraordinary detail during the sermon - the stations of the cross, the painting of Jesus on the cross behind the high altar, the stained glass windows, the carvings in the pulpit, pews and font. Every single last thing about being in the church, joining in Mass, was  awe-inspiring to me.

This, in spite of my dad, who was 'lapsed' Orange Order, telling me I attended a redneck church. It was said tongue-in-cheek, even though it was a time of immense political upheaval in the North of Ireland, and we felt the ricochets in the North of England even before the action geographically shifted our way.

A lot of children lose interest in the church when they reach their teens. Now, this may be a distinctly English phenomenon, or a distinctly Deb phenomenon, but my parents didn't go to church with me, and there was no parental pressure to continue. And I believed. I believed in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit: the Holy Trinity. I'd felt its presence, its power.

I did try other churches - all Christian - during my early teens. I attended an independent methodist church and affiliated youth club for a while. I even attended a Roman Catholic church a few times because it had the only Brownie pack with vacancies, and I attended a different methodist church for Girl Guides, but I returned to my church every time, and on the last occasion, it was to join the Church Lads and Church Girls Brigade.

I was confirmed by the Bishop of Liverpool, which allowed me to move up the ranks in the Brigade. After I moved from the North-West to London, I was promoted to warrant officer, and...

This is where I skip the bit about breaking commandments, because all of the above is really no more than a factual preamble, and my moral downfall had no effect on my faith nor the opportunity to continue practising it.

So many times I felt...uplifted - what Christians will tell me is the power of the Holy Spirit entering my soul. Simply being inside the church, with the incense and the echoes and the organ and the everything had a profound effect on me, emotionally, physiologically, spiritually.

Later, I went to university and studied social science, and still I held on to my conviction that I was a Christian, even though I heard the restrained contempt for my ignorance in my lecturer's 'OK. Fair enough.' By then, I'd also been thrown out of the parish church worship group for writing a stage show that condoned homosexuality. The vicar's ultimatum was that we (Nige and me) rewrite it so it was in keeping with the Scriptures or we were out. I argued with him for two hours, because all he had was that Old Testament Sodom and Gomorrah stuff. He didn't mention Paul's letters, and neither did I, because I was winning, apart from the being kicked out part.

The new vicar came to see us a few years later and made a vague attempt to lure us back into the fold, but I'd got the message. Our kind were not welcome in the Church, and so be it. I could keep my Christian faith and still despise/pity/forgive the people who bent God's word and Jesus' teaching to their will. I could still be a Christian...

Until I wasn't.

I don't know when it happened. It wasn't a sudden switch - Christian one minute, atheist the next. Sometime between graduating and the vicar's visit, my faith dissolved. Here and now, I can go as far as believing Jesus existed but as a revolutionary, not the son of God, and I can even accept there being the potential, in a universe of infinite possibilities, for this whole shebang to be intelligent design.

I am an atheist, and I do find it difficult to respect other people's beliefs, although usually when they use them to persecute 'sinners' and incite hatred, because nowhere in any translation of the New Testament was that the kind of man Jesus was. Or perhaps I'm recalling through a rose-tinted looking glass. It's a while since I read the bible.

Mostly, I don't miss my faith. I don't feel bitter or miserable or smugly terrified that when we die that's it. Nor do I necessarily believe in life after death, or not life as we know it (Jim). I rather like Carl Sagan's contention that we are all starstuff. We came from the stars, and we return to them. There's my heaven, out there in the universe.

What I do miss is that overwhelming tingle-shiver-wow. I sense echoes of it from time to time when I read a brilliant line in a story, or hear a musician blessed with natural musicality. I get a sense of it from other people and their everyday miracles, although my need to keep my emotions in check (I don't do crying...in public) mutes the impact.

There's no denying that Christian songs are the ones that most often evoke this response in me. I mock it, but Graham Kendrick's 'Shine Jesus Shine' has the tingle factor, as does O Holy Night in pretty much any form (except Mariah Carey). My favourite is the version by BarlowGirl.

On the other hand, I get a different sort of buzz from MelodySheep's Symphony of Science remixes. It is these that have inspired me to want to learn, and maybe one day get my head around physics. It's still a strong reaction, but it's more...cognitive, less 'spiritual'.


Symphony of Science - We Are All Connected


And then there was Pentatonix singing the 'Hallelujah'. Tingle-shiver-wow, and out.


Pentatonix - Hallelujah


Thanks for reading,
Deb x

St. Luke's Church - photograph © Copyright Alex McGregor and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

#WIPpet Wednesday - Of The Bauble - #amwriting

This week, I've been working on two WIPs: Reunions and Of The Bauble . I'd written the opening to Of The Bauble back in 2014, but I ran out of time to work on it, but I found some - inspired by Bec from Bike Book Reviews ' call for Christmas MM romances, although...this isn't quite an MM romance. It IS a romance, and it does have a bisexual male main character (young adult), but...well, I'll leave it at that for now or there won't be any surprises later!

What is WIPpet Wednesday?

WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Witt - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit: http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=355404

Wednesday 12th October, 2016 (it still is somewhere...)
12x10+20+16=156 words

I hopped over to read A.M. Leibowitz's WIPpet post for this week , which is themed on 'coming out' in celebration of National Coming Out Day (11th October), and I thought...what a great idea! (Thanks, A.M.)

Of The Bauble is a festive short story. It begins with nineteen-year-old Kieran O'Sullivan taking a trip up to the attic to fetch the Christmas decorations and making an interesting discovery. This is the start of the scene after Kieran's adventure in the attic.

Here's the WIPpet:

She was a bit funny about some things, my mum. Like, for instance when she asked if Michelle Perkins was my girlfriend, and I told her I thought maybe I liked boys. She was cool with that. And later, when I told her I couldn't decide whether I liked boys or girls, she said, "You don't have to choose, sweetheart. You can like both."

So she was awesome with the big stuff on the one hand; on the other, she could be rigidly traditional about what I saw as the little things that didn't matter, like always wearing clean pyjamas, never putting ketchup on a Sunday roast, and eating fish on Good Friday, even though we weren't religious in any way at all. Then there were those traditional ‘just the family' occasions when the three of us spent time together, and friends were not welcome...like decorating the Christmas tree. Which was what we were doing tonight.

Thanks for reading!
Deb x

#WIPpet Wednesday - Reunions - Swings and Ice Cream #amwriting

This week, I've added a few thousand words to Reunions , but it's in a helluva mess. It's going to need a fair bit of reworking; for now I'm going to keep writing and tweaking where I know what's meant to happen, and...hope for the best.

What is WIPpet Wednesday?

WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Witt - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit: http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=355404

It's 5th October; 5+10=15 sentences, plus a bonus sentence to finish off, from Reunions , which is season seven of Hiding Behind The Couch - the story of nine friends from high school, who are now all around the age of forty.

The characters in the excerpt below are Krissi - the daughter of two of the series' main characters - and Jay, her BFFE, both aged twenty-five.

Here's the WIPpet:

It was clear from some distance away the playground was deserted, not surprising this soon after Christmas, when all the kids were probably still enjoying the novelty of their presents. Beyond the playground was a skate park where every so often, a head bobbed into view above the half pipe to the accompanying scrape and whirr of wheels.

"There'll be no ice cream van today," Jay asserted.

"Why?" Krissi asked.

"The weather's abysmal."

"Doesn't usually stop Mr. Whippy."

"If he's any sense, he's tucked up warm in bed with Mrs. Whippy."

Krissi gave Jay a sideways glance and walked ahead through the park gate.

"What?" he asked.

"Assuming there is a Mrs. Whippy, wouldn't they melt? And anyway, it might be another Mr. Whippy."

"And a whole troop of little Whippies," Jay said drolly. "Can you imagine bathtime in the Whippy house? A scrub down and a hair wash and then Dad tips you upside down and dunks your head in the blue-raspberry sherbet."

Krissi laughed, but it was little more than a compensatory chuckle so Jay's joke didn't fall flat. For the time being, Jay said no more; she'd go on the defensive if he asked what was wrong, and in any case, swings and ice cream fixed everything.

Thanks for reading!
Deb x

#WIPpet Wednesday + Cover Reveal - Class-A #amwriting #lgbtq

(Second time of trying to post...)

OK, yes, it's Thursday, but it's still Wednesday somewhere in the world. BST? Dunno what you're talking about... ;)

I've not taken part in WIPpet Wednesday for a few weeks, nor any other snippet sharing, because I had a bit of an author epiphany, or meltdown. I'm undecided. The long and short of it is I realised I wasn't enjoying writing, and the reason is...deadlines! I can write to deadlines, no problem at all, but they're not always a good thing for creativity.

So, I'm not doing it anymore!
Unless I really, really have to.

What is WIPpet Wednesday?

WIPpet Wednesday is a blog hop where authors share from their current works in progress - expertly organised/hosted by Emily Witt - and the excerpt has to relate to the date in some way. For links to other fabulous authors' WIPpets, visit: http://www.inlinkz.com/wpview.php?id=355404

It's 29th September, 2016, so I'm going with 29 sentences from page 9 of Class-A , which is both part of Take a Chance - a YA/NA LGBTQ (M/M) anthology (coming this side of Christmas - date to be confirmed) - and a very short interlude in my series, Hiding Behind The Couch . For followers of the series, Class-A happens during Ruminations (starting with the law halls of residence party).

I also get to reveal the cover for the first time! Note: this is the cover for the story, not the anthology. This cover is one of my own designs.

The cover for the anthology is currently being conjured by the magical Natasha Snow .

The characters in the excerpt below are Simon and Jess, law undergraduates. Simon is the main character in this story, which is told from his point of view.

Here's the WIPpet (and the cover!):

He nodded, feeling much the same, except his tiredness extended beyond the late night, beyond many late nights. Big thoughts for a weary soul on a Sunday morning. "Do you go to church, Jess?"

"Not since..." She checked her emotions, but not quickly enough. "No," she confirmed. He had no right to ask.

"Nor do I, although sometimes..." His pulse filled his ears, heralding the flashback. The night before, in her room, asking questions that had seemed urgent, pertinent. If only he'd waited, given her time to become attached, for him to become her habit, her addiction.

"Look, Simon, did you want to say something? Only I'm meeting a friend for breakfast, and I'm already late."

"No. Yes. I need to apologise for last night. And to thank you."

"For?"

He shrugged, his uncertainty amplified by her dismissal.

She sighed a breath that carried her reluctance to the ceiling, and she watched it go. "I'll keep it to myself," she said with oh, such weariness, "if that's what you're worried about."

"If you saw, everyone did."

"Everyone else was in the same state as you. There was a lot of debauchery in this building last night. Believe me, what you and Taz were up to was far from the worst of it."

"Taz." Simon let the name buzz in his ears and fizzle away, a fading zigzag path of a honeybee returning to the hive.

"Thanks for apologising," Jess said. She was already a blur, distant, disappearing. He had questions for which he needed no answers. Who's Taz? How do you know him? He neither wanted to know nor cared, in truth. He merely wished to sustain their conversation.

Thanks for reading!
Deb x

Book Review: Holding by Graham Norton

Title: Holding
Author: Graham Norton
Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton
Expected: 6th October, 2016
ISBN: 9781444791990
Link: https://www.hodder.co.uk/books/detail.page?isbn=9781444791990

Blurb:
Graham Norton's masterful debut is an intelligently crafted story of love, secrets and loss.

The remote Irish village of Duneen has known little drama; and yet its inhabitants are troubled. Sergeant PJ Collins hasn't always been this overweight; mother of­ two Brid Riordan hasn't always been an alcoholic; and elegant Evelyn Ross hasn't always felt that her life was a total waste.

So when human remains are discovered on an old farm, suspected to be that of Tommy Burke - a former­ love of both Brid and Evelyn - the village's dark past begins to unravel. As the frustrated PJ struggles to solve a genuine case for the first time in his life, he unearths a community's worth of anger and resentments, secrets and regret.

Darkly comic, touching and at times profoundly sad. Graham Norton employs his acerbic wit to breathe life into a host of loveable characters, and explore - with searing honesty - the complexities and contradictions that make us human.

Review:
I'll be totally honest. I love Graham Norton on screen, and that was my main motivation for reading Holding. It turned out to be pretty much what I expected, or better than, in fact.

Once I was into the story, I couldn't put the book down, and I adored PJ. He's such a great character, and the best part of it is he's a big man who worries about his weight and struggles with his fitness but still eats far too much. He's a gentle, human hero.

I sympathised with Brid, who is the most beautiful character in the story (regardless of what her mother told her). She shows such strength. The author does an excellent job of portraying women with sensitivity to feminist issues.

There are some utterly stunning descriptions of the location, the characters, the events, and many beautiful literary gifts. My favourites:

"Some marriages combust, others die, and some just lie down like a wounded animal, defeated."

"He weaved through the excavations like a small dinghy in rough seas having trouble with its sails."

"She felt like she needed to anchor herself to something or she might fly around the room screaming out her pain like a hysterical balloon."

"Bobby wagged his thick tail furiously from side to side, as if he thought 'business' might be some sort of chicken drumstick."

The story does start quite slowly, and it felt like the introductions of the different characters went on a bit too long; I think it was somewhere around 30% in before the action really started. From that point on, the story rolls smoothly and at speed.

This is, in essence, a cosy mystery, with a lot of gentle Irish humour and many insights into the simple tragedies of life. The author has drawn believable characters - even the baddies tug at the old heart strings - and a rich and wonderful setting.

I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys Irish stories, appreciates a cosy mystery, or likes the murder series on TV but wishes the lead police officer/detective was a little less suave/more believable.

A great book - received through NetGalley.

Bisexual Characters in HBTC - #BiWeek #BiVisibilityDay

Today, I was accused of 'author preaching' about bisexuality in one of my books, and the best part of it was, on this occasion, I wasn't actually preaching! This, alas, is what comes from writing visible bisexual characters, and I'm going to keep doing it. Without apology.

That's not to say I don't get preachy from time to time. At the end of this post is an excerpt of full-on preachy-ness, all of it based on real reactions to bisexual people.

Readers of Hiding Behind The Couch will have met Kris Johansson. He's one of The Circle - the nine characters at the centre of the series - and he is the most visible bisexual character in my writing.

He's one of the two main characters in the stand-alone bi/gay romance, Crying in the Rain , which is FREE on All Romance eBooks until Sunday 25th September (to celebrate Bisexual Awareness Week). There are other bisexual characters in HBTC, but not in The Circle.

Here's a breakdown of the gender/sexuality of The Circle:

- 4 female
- 5 male

- 2 gay (1 asexual/homoromantic)
- 1 bisexual
- 6 heterosexual

Aside from The Circle, in the broader 'cast' of the series, which has around 200 characters (at a guess - I haven't counted), there are around a dozen other characters who are LGBTQ.

For those people in the real world who have, at one point or another, accused me of 'being obsessed' with gay [sic] characters, please note the ratio of LGBTQ:straight characters in HBTC is lower than the estimate given for the general population. I rest my case...on that score.

Of those approximately 15 LGBTQ characters, less than a third are non-binary (i.e. they are not either/or in relation to their gender - male/female - and/or sexuality - straight/gay). So far, only FOUR are bisexual and visible.

Four out of 200.
Obsessed?
Preachy?

I think not.

Kris Johansson, then. He's not the most popular character by a long shot, and I'm almost certain it's nothing to do with him being bisexual, although there are readers who've said to me 'he's gay, he just needs to make up his mind' and they judge him as fickle on this basis. He's not fickle, but he IS outspoken. He's an actor, an extrovert, a performer. It's fitting for a character like him to be outspoken.

He's not without weaknesses, though, and there are times when even my most loyal readers have fallen out with Kris. Indeed, it's a standing joke in this house, whereby Nige comes up with new ways for me to kill Kris with startling frequency. I don't plan on taking Nige up on any of those ideas, in spite of him having given me one of my favourite lines in the series:

(for context, Mrs. Davenport is a devout Roman Catholic)

Mrs. Davenport's fridge was, and had always been, an immaculate contraption...

~ From The Harder They Fall (HBTC 3)

It might also be helpful for me to point out that Mrs. Davenport is the mother of Ellie (one of The Circle), whose younger sister, Charlie, is bisexual and features in the excerpt below.

On that note, I'll get right to it. Author preaching? Maybe. It's authentic to the character. It's authentic, full stop, and, interestingly, nobody has yet taken me to task for preaching about animal rights, anti-psychiatry or overthrowing the ruling class. These are just a few of the many 'preachy' topics I address in my stories.

Excerpt from Two By Two (HBTC 6):

"Do your parents know?" Kris asked.

Charlie shook her head. "I don't make a secret of it, but people assume and unless they get shitty I leave them to it."

"Aren't you going to have to at least tell your mum and dad if you come on the schools tour?"

"I suppose. How old were you when you told your mum and dad?"

"About being bi, sixteen. They'd always known I wasn't straight, and I didn't have to come out to them. I just told my dad one day that I was falling for Shaunna and he didn't even question it."

"Why can't it always be that easy?"

"I got lucky."

"You're not kidding! I can't believe I'm thirty-five this year, I'm a coach on the national squad, pretty much running a multimillion-pound business, yet I'm still having to justify my relationship 'choices'. I'd only had boyfriends until the last year of uni, when I started seeing a girl. It wasn't serious, we both knew that, but she got it into her head that once I escaped my family, I'd settle down with a woman somewhere, realise I'd been a lesbian all along. And that really, really pissed me off.

"It didn't last that long between us and it ended amicably, but she'd make comments about it, kind of under her breath and in front of other people, because after her, I ended up with one of my male housemates, and it was all going fine, but then he started up with the whole, 'I don't mind if you want to bring a girl home' thing."

Charlie paused and took a large swig of her lager, trying to stay calm, as it still made her angry. "That was the first time a guy ever said that to me, and then on the other side of it, my ex is saying, 'Time to leave the past behind, Chaz.' And so he dumped me, or I dumped him, I don't really know. It finished, whatever, and he told everyone he was doing me a favour. I was just confused. Confused? Yeah, mate! If you say so!"

"Yep," Kris nodded knowingly. "Been there."

"Bloody maddening, isn't it?" Charlie said. "When I came home after I graduated, I decided that's it. I'm going to be out, just with my old school friends and teammates. We'd known each other for years and I thought they wouldn't care, because I was still me, and there I am again. The girls on the team who were gay, which was quite a few of them, were all, 'I knew you were a dyke all along,' and my mates who were lads jumped straight on the 'my girlfriend's girlfriend' fantasy wagon. Not just my friends either―my brothers' mates, too, and we'd all played footy together forever. The only exception was Ellie's friends―you lot."

***
Everything Charlie had spoken of Kris been through himself, albeit with a different set of stereotypes, but the issue was the same: people struggled to accept bisexuality, which was precisely why he'd endured almost a year playing DI Mark Lundberg - the bisexual lead in Shadows - and spoken out against bi-erasure in interviews, gone in with the Shadows writer on her new series, and was happy to visit secondary schools as part of an LGBT anti-bullying campaign.

For as much as places like the UK were slowly coming around to the idea that some people are gay, the public, gay and straight alike, struggled to comprehend anything that didn't fit into a nice neat one thing or the other. It needed to start with educating young people, empowering them to be themselves, and to let others be, free from judgement and fear. It was the only way to bring about change in the longer term.

Here endeth today's lesson. ;)

Thanks for reading.
Deb x