Writing for people like me?

"I read Stephen King and at fourteen I found a friend in ‘Carrie’. She wasn’t like me. I wasn’t like her. I didn’t have a religious maniac for a mother. I didn’t have the power of telekinesis - though for a time I rather wished I did. But like Carrie, I was bullied at school. And like her, I had a secret."

Paul Burston appeared in what looked like a very "official" position last night, as he ventured North of the river for a change, and took pride of place in the opulent surroundings of Islington's Council Chamber.

The occasion was a special LGBT History Month "mini-Polari" event, focussing on gay literature, and what indeed that particular label means today - is there really one genre that appeals to "people like me"? Or you?

As Paul went on to say:

"I’ve always been seen as a gay writer. And whenever people ask me if I’m happy with that, I always tell them that I don’t mind, provided that when I go into a bookshop like Foyles or Waterstone’s, my books are in the general fiction section and not just the gay and lesbian section. Or to put it another way, I’m happy for my books to be read by ‘people like me’. But I don’t want them to be read only by ‘people like me’.

When you write, the question of ‘people like me’ takes on a whole new meaning. A writer doesn’t only write for himself. He also writes for his readers. I don’t mean that I write with a specific reader in mind. But I write knowing - or at least hoping - that there will be readers, and that those readers will be as diverse as possible.

With apologies to Jane Austen, it is a truth universally acknowledged by publishers that books by and about heterosexuals are somehow universal in their appeal, while books by and about homosexuals are only ever for the gays. Like many gay authors, I live in hope of proving the publishers wrong. I live in the hope that readers will go where you take them, and that people who love books aren’t only interested in reading about people like themselves.

If readers are willing to surrender to stories about vampires, goblins and serial killers, why should they run from the idea of same sex love? Should it matter whether they’re gay or straight, male or female, black or white?

Way back in the 80s I fell in love with a book called ‘The Color Purple’ by Alice Walker. One of my favourite books of last year was ‘Red Dust Road’ by Jackie Kay. My enjoyment of these books wasn’t hindered by the fact that I am not and have never been a black woman."

This was indeed a fascinating talk - with quotes from such disparate writers as Edmund White, Jean Genet and (my fave) Queens by Pickles, to boot - that engendered a healthy discussion and lots of questions afterwards, as the (unfortunately very small) audience explored his ideas, and picked Paul's brains on the subject.

We debated whether it is right that "erotica" and erotic themes are placed side-by-side (in lists such as on Amazon) with works that just happen to be by a gay author or have a gay theme to their story; and talked about the inevitable struggles gay writers have to go through in this world where Twitter and online forms of authorship (blogs and the like) are increasingly popular.

Paul concluded the debate on that final point, saying that in his opinion, the next few years could prove to be the most exciting for "niche" genres in literature - gay writing especially.

For in the era of Kindles and iPads the major publishers, who in the past had the ultimate control over the market and were responsible for pigeon-holing gay authors and even ignoring their books altogether, have been slow in responding to a new wave of self-published success stories. Nowadays, you do not necessarily need the backing of a big publishing house to become acclaimed or successful, just good writing skills and the guts to go ahead and do it.

In effect, it might become easier rather than harder in the future for us to find stories that are about "people like me".

Great stuff - and you could win a prize, too!

The Polari First Book Prize is for a first book which explores the queer experience and is open to any work of poetry, prose, fiction or non-fiction by a writer born or resident in the UK, published in English within the past twelve months.

Self-published works in both print and digital formats are eligible for submission.

Works must be submitted to The Polari First Book Prize by the publisher.

In the case of self-published works, works must be submitted with a one-page/A4 size letter of support describing why and how the project has been self-published.

The winner of the 2011 Polari First Book Prize was James Maker, for his memoir 'Autofellatio' (BIGFib), which began life as an e-book.

This year’s Prize is for books published between Feb 1, 2011 and Feb 1, 2012.

LGBT History Month continues throughout February 2012.