The blog home of erotic fiction author, Jacqueline Applebee. Black sexuality, smutty snippets and more. Contains adult concepts. For Over 18's only. My main writing website is at Writing in Shadows. *
Black Pride was good but the rain made me want to run and hide. Everyone looked in a great mood and to be enjoying themselves. The surprise of the day was that Stonewall were actually stocking ‘Some people are Bi’ badges! Wonders will never cease.
My least stressful Pride London ever! Apart from the fact that I had an hour to get home after the march, then shower, change, eat, breathe, and finally make my way to an erotic storytelling session at Sh! There was a huge bisexual turnout, and I personally didn’t receive any biphobic crap this year (although I heard a friend of mine did).
Wonderful moments of the day involved getting randomly whipped by a woman and wrapping myself up in the massive bisexual flag. I also managed to not recognise someone I snogged at BiCon, but she was very gracious with her reminder…
Hurt
If half of me gets stabbed, all of me feels the pain.
I don’t often read the papers, because I end up getting very depressed, very quickly. However I did hear about the Ugandan queer rights activist found dead on 27th January 2011, and also about a lesbian threatened with deportation from the U.K to Uganda. When I opened the Guardian newspaper, I was shocked to see the photo above. I’ve heard plenty of people, both gay and straight talk about how bisexuals are sick, sad and evil, but it’s not often I’ll see the words in print. With such a powerful and unpleasant photo I was struck at how many myths were being enforced. Plus the woman above really hates bis. I mean she’s even hyphenated and shortened it just to be extra spiteful!
There are strong myth of all black people hating queers, and if, god forbid, we are actually queer ourselves, then we must be copying white folks. There are other stereotypes and lies: bisexual people don’t face the same stigma as gays and lesbians, which would be laughable if not for the little voice in my head that says, ‘if something bad happens because of my sexuality, just say homophobic, not biphobic, because no one will understand you.’ And then there’s the myth that says, If I act straight then nothing will happen. Well, could I look away if someone else were being hurt or threatened because of their sexuality? No, I could not. And in Uganda straight people don’t escape either, as failure to report a known queer person to the authorities can bring you the same grief as what will happen to them.
Things like this doesn’t just happen in Uganda. Black LGBT people are both highly visible (to bigoted straights) and invisible (to bigoted queers). I cannot and do not want to hide or look the other way. Even if I feel hurt so much of the time.
An expanded love.
I’ve known I was polyamorous from an early age. I didn’t have the words for it, but I knew that I longed for more than one person to love. The longing stayed with me all of my life, but it wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I heard the word, Polyamory. I was amazed that I wasn’t the only one thought that way.
I started writing this book in November 2009. My story was to be a romance that one woman has with multiple people, and with herself as well. It was a challenge for me; to chart my heroine’s journey from monogamy to polyamory when I’d never done anything like it before. I wanted to reflect the polyamorous communities that I’d come in contact with: the pagans, the bisexual folks, the radical vegan queers, and the plain old hopeless romantics. Writing this novel made me remember how excited I used to be whenever I read or heard about polyamory; just the idea of a different way to live made me tingle. I want to pass on that tingle.
Excerpt:
I became Polyamorous at exactly eight-thirty-two that very same evening during the disco; I danced to an old rock track I remembered from school. The music distracted me from a task I’d fallen into during the course of the day—counting the number of corsets that the attendees wore. I’d reached sixteen before I started to get confused. I let the music sway me from my silly musings, tried to remember how to dance without hitting anyone with a stray arm. I had closed my eyes to help ease my self-consciousness, but when I opened them, there were two people dancing beside me; Jasmine from the relationship styles, and the organiser who looked like Santa Claus. Jasmine was throwing herself about to the wild music when she bumped into me. I instinctively held her, and then we danced together, bopping about to the tune. When the music ended, she kissed me. I kissed her back; a gentle press that made my lips tingle. Christine appeared as if by magic. She kissed Jasmine, and then she kissed me long and slow. We all looked at each other and then started squealing like little girls. I checked my watch, marked the time. I could barely focus on the digits; everything was a swirl. Jasmine held me from behind, Christine held onto her back. Before I knew it a conga line had formed with me at the front. We danced around the pub, a snaking trail of happy people. Things would never be the same.
An Expanded Love: available as a paperback or as an e-book
I’ve been attending this club off and on since it started. I will miss it when it goes. It is one of the few clubs where I feel very safe, no matter how little clothes I’ve got on. I’ve seen some amazing things there; a man dressed in a wombat suit being spanked, a woman surrounded by four friends and lovers, all bringing her to orgasm time after time. I’ve had a rope dress constructed on me, kissed people, made friends, watched cheesy films, and laughed at the crazy dancing. I wrote about the club in a story called, ‘Proximity’ which appears in Erotic Brits. Klub Fukk was never about posing in expensive corsets, or dodging the wanky man. Klub Fukk was about having lots of queer fun, where people played with each other regardless of gender or sexual orientation. It is the closest thing to Shortbus that I’ve ever experienced. It is unique.
The final Klub Fukk happens on Saturday 11th December. I plan to be there to help give it a good send off.
Photo:Wotever World
Lots of events on LGBT history in London by Untold London, although they use the word bi-sexual quite a bit (grrr…). The events are mostly free or a small fee. There is a Joe Orton workshop on Thursday 2nd, and a writing workshop on Saturday 4th December.
An extract from my trans gigalo story, ‘Scotland the Brave’ in Erotic Brits 2: Sexy Scotland (U.K)
It’s easy to look like an extra from Braveheart when you’ve already got long hair.
Wearing a kilt is second nature when you’ve worn skirts for years. Binding my tits isn’t such a bother as they’re pretty small anyway. My name’s Bobby. And I’m real happy with my world.
I could tell you that my Pappie always wanted a boy; that he was overcompensating with me, and I rebelled as a result. But to tell you the truth, my old Pa was camp as tits. End of story.
Before he passed away he told me a thing or two; he said that his was a
marriage of convenience, to keep both families and a bustling church happy. My Mam had left when I was a wee girl; she ran off with an Icelandic fishing magnate. So Pappie raised me on his lonesome, and he told me he had never been happier. Sure I had to wear girls clothes to the church-run school, as things were pretty strict back then, but as soon as I got home he would have my trousers waiting, a shirt, more often than not, one that he stitched himself, and a comic, still warm from where he pressed it flat.
I started living a double-life when I was nine years old. You cannae get that kind
of skill and experience nowadays. Not unless I’d lived in San Francisco, and Pappie had danced in a go-go cage. Mind you, I had to be brave on many occasions, but this is a land of heroes after all. And if bravery didn’t sustain me, then I was good at bluffing too.
Since my Pa went to join the heavenly chorus, I’ve earned a crust living pretty
much as a man. I’ve worked as a welder, done a little chicken farming, and even poked holes in doughnuts during the slow season. I’m a very flexible lad after all.
I love the ladies, and thank William Wallace that drag kings have finally taken
their rightful place in the world, but even global trends take many a year to find their way to Scotland. What I did, I did off my own back, using my own brain.
Erotic Brits 2: Sexy Scotland (U.S)
Photo from the Telegraph which also runs an article on kilt controversy!
Why I still hate Stonewall
Have you seen those ads on telly for video games? They are usually swish, with gorgeous graphics, and promise hours of entertainment. But then you look at the bottom of the screen to see the words, ‘Images not of actual gameplay’ which is a posh way of saying, ‘Don’t even think you’ll get to take part in something this good looking.’
That’s what Stonewall means to me. Sure the (English branch) has the word, bisexual in the title, but if you are actually bisexual and need help and support from these guys, then I refer you to the disclaimer above. Stonewall does the exact opposite of what it says on the tin. Their wonderful health initiative for lesbian and bisexual women has the phrase, ‘Love your inner lesbian’ displayed on everything from keyrings to t-shirts. Bisexual women don’t magically become lesbian when they’re having sex with other women, but Stonewall really don’t seem to give a toss. Their report of bisexuality in the workplace is the only thing they’ve done where they even mention the B word more than once. Seems like bisexuals are good enough to include in the title of their other reports, but once you get into the body of the work, good luck spotting it again.
I particularly hate English Stonewall because trans people are not included. The name Stonewall comes from an event started by trans people who fought back against police brutality, and thus sparked off the Stonewall riots in the U.S. But they are not included in the work of this charity at all. But then maybe that’s a favour to trans people, because no matter how much I hate Stonewall, they seem to hate bisexual and trans people much, much more.
I’m very proud to say that I’ve been invited to give a talk at the University of Manchester’s LGBT student union this coming Tuesday 16th November. I’ll be talking about my experiences as a bisexual writer of erotic fiction, and as such it will be different to my regular readings. I’m only slightly nervous…
So if you want to join me, more details are on the group’s facebook page.
I hope to see you (yes, you!) there at 6.00pm at the Peer Support Centre, Barnes Wallis Centre
