Life in Tokyo
Back from Prague it was back to my mum’s council house in Derby. I was depressed.
What was I going to do?
I went home one night with the DJ of the local gay club, got ill, convinced myself that I’d got AIDS. I thought, I don’t want to die here at home, I wouldn’t want my mum to see that, so I bought a copy of the TES (Times Educational Supplement), circled just the one job, TEACHERS WANTED: JAPAN, and a few weeks later I was off to Tokyo.
I am just saying. This isn’t about me. I am not exceptional. I think anyone gay my age experienced the same thing. At some point we all thought we were going to die. Many did.
So that’s that.
I wrote in my last blog, just yesterday, that I am the writerly sum of my experiences. Now I’m going to tell you the opposite. I’m not.
Just as a certain class gives you a safety net, so it also gives you a confidence. The ability to talk as if what you are saying is a universal truth. And sprouting universal truths also closes off paths to those below you. This is how the class systems perpetuates.
I can hold up my hand and tell you this. I don’t know what I’m talking about. So listen carefully.
I’ve written only one story, I think, set in Japan. Post Traumatic Hokkaido Blues. I sent it off to McSweeney’s. I love McSweeney’s. In the UK we have the literary mag Granta (very dull. Sorry Granta - it may contain great writing but for me, it is pitched all wrong.) In America they have McSweeney’s. It zings.
After about a year I got a rejection. It was sent by the person whose name is in the cover. So that meant a lot. It was really nice about my story. They’d read it.
My story, by the way, was about a boy who sees one of his classmates beheaded, is taken to Hokkaido by his parents, intercepts a radio signal and heads to the North where he discovers King Kong. (Btw I’d love to write a King Kong book one day.)
So, Japan, one year, one story. Not published.
My latest book is Saltburn which is an actual seaside town in the North-East of England. My dad was from there. I’ve been once when I was about three. Can’t remember anything about it except nearly drowning.
So write what you know?
Who knows?
Advice: work out what works for you and go for it.
Before I go let me tell you this.
In Japan I experienced my first electronic toilet - it had loads of buttons, you could heat the seat, fire water all over the shop, travelled in my first car with a sat nav - what is this technology? - and had my first proper boyfriend. We met in GB (Gay Boys) in Shinjuku.
Shinjuku has the second (or third) largest concentration of gay bars in the world.
He said to me, this first boyfriend, (he had studied English at university), I saw you looking at me from across the bar.
Short-sighted, even then, in all honesty he had been just a blur.
But I didn’t say that. I’m a writer. I’m good at making stuff up.
It’s in my bones.
I have actually written a tongue in (bum) cheek writing guide. It’s called You: From Pissed to Publication. It’s like a funny version of this blog. £5. All in.
My latest book Saltburn costs twice as much but it’s twice as funny. Don’t take my word for it, you can read a review here.