Facing The Music


I often listen to music when writing my stories. Beethoven, Shostakovich and Elgar help my fingers fly over the keyboard. Yesterday evening I was listening to a CD recording of the First Symphony by Johannes Brahms. Although I have heard it countless times on recordings as well as in the concert hall, its electrifying opening with its pounding tympani never fails to excite me. The composer was already in his forty-third year by the time he completed the symphony. It wouldn’t have been easy for Brahms to write this work because he saw himself as working very much in the shadow of the great Ludwig van Beethoven. Brahms’s First Symphony was fourteen in years in the making.

Brahms saw himself as working in the classical tradition. He really didn’t have a lot of time for the “new music” of Richard Wagner or Hector Berlioz. It is ironic perhaps that although Brahms considered Beethoven to be the god of the pure classical tradition, the master himself, whilst Brahms was working of his First Symphony, was moving in new directions with the completion of his great Ninth (“Choral”)  Symphony with its stupendous “Ode to Joy” chorale in the final movement.

If ever I need to remind myself that there must be another spiritual dimension beyond our understanding, I only need to listen to a great symphony orchestra in full flight. Where does all that glorious music that can move me to tears and laughter almost at the same moment come from?


FREE BOOK: ‘Gay Moments: My Beautiful Boyfriend’



I just want to let everyone know that the latest story in my GAY MOMENTS series, ‘My Beautiful Boyfriend’ will be available for free downloading from Amazon Kindle between Thursday the 18th of June and Saturday the 20th inclusive. Here is a brief excerpt. I hope you enjoy reading it,



I didn’t have much of a problem getting away from school on sports afternoons. I only had to mention asthma (whilst doing a few fake wheezes) and the coach or the teacher on sports duty would readily tell me that it was okay to go off and work in the library or whatever. In fact I would be given the distinct impression that neither they nor the football captains actually wanted me on the field in any case. Of course I would use the opportunity to go off down to the warehouse to catch a rehearsal or over to Rigby’s Bar if the lads were setting up for a show.

One afternoon at the warehouse I had an astonishing experience. Sean Gibson, the youngest boy in the troupe, was rehearsing a new number. Now there was nothing odd about that but on this occasion he’d decided to rehearse without his drag. There he was – centre stage, moving like a sexy femme-fatale to sultry music and yet he was dressed in a pair of boyish shorts and a tee-shirt with the Australian flag on the front of it. He looked like a gorgeous surfie who might be thinking of going off down to the beach – and yet he was dancing like a seductive, dangerous diva. With his dirty blonde hair and his deep blue eyes he was scrumptious. And because of the tighter than tight shorts I could tell that he hadn’t taped up his equipment. But the main impression I had was that the boy looked so vulnerable. I was very nearly moved to tears. At the same time I realized how unique this experience was – to be able to witness a gorgeous young drag queen rehearsing a number without the drag – without his armour in other words. It was very moving.

Later on after the rehearsal over coffee I told young Sean and producer Ryan about my reaction and suggested that they put something like the rehearsal I’d just witnessed into the show. A touching ‘insider’ look behind the scenes. Ryan looked at me for a long moment and then said, “That’s a terrific idea Shannon.”

Curiously, Sean was also giving me a lingering look. I couldn’t really tell what he thought of my idea. Anyway ‘The Rehearsal’ was scheduled to be included in a new show that was being developed, Platinum Girls. Of course I was overjoyed. I felt that as well as being a part of this glamorous new world, I was making a contribution.


One afternoon after school I arrived early at the show venue and found that only one of the boys was in the dressing room. It was young Sean. I was a bit shocked when he asked me if I wanted to help him get taped up. I didn’t want to offend the guy. But I was totally inexperienced. I’d hardly even seen another boy’s cock apart from the odd glimpses in the change rooms at school. Well Sean, in a very matter-of-fact fashion, stepped out of his shorts and then peeled off his underpants. Of course, as was to be expected, what he revealed was exquisite. His cock was uncut and his tight balls shaved. He handed me a roll of tape and a pair of scissors. Then he gave me a spectacular grin before bending over and shoving his dick and balls into his arse crack. He then asked me to tape it all in place. Of course I had a hard on in a moment which I’m sure Sean must have noticed.

I cut off a length of tape and gingerly stuck everything in place. The boy then straightened up and stretched his legs. “That feels fine Shannon.”

Gaining some confidence after this episode I decided to pose a question that had been bothering me for a while, “Sean, what happens if… well, you know… what I mean is, what happens if you crack one during a show?”

Sean looked at me thoughtfully, “I’ve never really thought about that. It doesn’t really happen. I guess I’m always too nervous to get hard. After I first started in drag I used to have to throw up into a bucket every night before I went on stage.”

He pressed the tape between his legs. “Besides, once it’s all been taped down there’s really nowhere for it to go.”

All at once I was filled with a strange feeling. Was I falling in love with Sean? Well there was a time not so long ago when I thought that fat boys were not allowed to fall in love. And then, sadly, reality struck a blow when I recalled that Sean already had a boyfriend. His name was Dale and he was nearly as cute as Sean was.


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GAY MOMENTS: My Beautiful Boyfriend

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My latest story in the GAY MOMENTS series ‘My Beautiful Boyfriend’ has just been released by Balmain Publishing on Amazon Kindle. Here is an excerpt. I hope you enjoy reading it –


While I was still at school I kept on thinking that my breasts were growing larger all the time. I would try and find a dark corner in the gym when I had to change. During this period I had these horrific nightmares in which my tits would start spouting milk uncontrollably in the most bizarre situations.

Maybe I would end up working as a drag queen. Well perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. While I was in my final year at school I discovered this bar on the fringe of Kings Cross where they had regular drag shows. Occasionally when I was sure my mum had gone to bed with her sleeping pills I would sneak out, catch a bus and take in the show.

Of course most of the “girls” in the production were absolutely beautiful although I was rather surprised to see that one of the queens would have been approaching my size. One of my favourite numbers in the show was a sketch about Dolly Parton. It told the story of how one day Dolly herself discovered that some drag queens in Texas were holding a ‘Dolly Parton Look-alike Competition.’ So she thought it would be a great hoot if she went undercover and competed in the competition. On the big day she spent hours dressing and making up. Then Dolly travelled to the venue where the show was being held, went prancing down the catwalk with all the other queens and came last in the competition! But my really, really favourite part of the production which, curiously enough, was called Drag!, was an episode where each of the queens would come out, sit on a stool, take off their wigs and tell the audience how and why they got involved in drag.

I became addicted to the show and tried to go along to performances at least twice a week. Because I used up most of my pocket money on the tickets I had to make one coke last the whole of the evening. But hey, I was on Cloud Nine! Here was a world I could immerse myself in. It was a non-judgemental place where “difference” was not only tolerated, it was celebrated. For a few hours each week I could forget that I was fat.

A couple of the more aggressive queens would hurl barbs and insults at the audience and they loved it. One of my favourite moments was when Sheeshy would pick out some man and screech – “Darling, I never forget a face but in your case I’ll make an exception!”

However one aspect of the production puzzled me enormously at first. At the climax of the first big production number all the queens would lift up their dresses can-can style, revealing their long legs and nickers. I stared and stared. Where were their bulges? Where were their packages? My God, between their legs they really did look like girls. And then a thought struck me – had all these boys had an operation? For some reason the thought horrified me.

After a few weeks of attending the show the queens started to get used to seeing me sitting by myself at a table nursing my coke. During the show they would often hurl their insults at me which I loved because I knew it was all in the spirit of fun. Then during the interval two or three of the boys would usually come out and chat with me and I could tell that other people in the audience were really impressed or maybe even jealous. I began to feel that in this place, this bar, this fantastical world, I was not only accepted, I was appreciated.