Mr Lucky

A
gay
memoir.
like
no
other...

The book, the man.

I wrote this over a three year period, for many reasons.

I suppose it was primarily an expiation of my demons: my father, my self image, my queerness, my diagnosis, my Mother's death, my long term stealthily abusive relationship, the barrenness of the end of it, but ultimately, and I see this retrospectively - at the time, it was most definitely 'ME! ME! ME!....as a kind of self-help book, an example of triumph over despair.

Mr Lucky: a boy; a man; a nascent homo; an unworldly queer.

Mr. Lucky blunders his way through a life of confusion, and loss, driven always by the need for love, the need for sex, the need for approval, all of which inevitably, lead him to a place of silent abuse and then of crucifying shame - until he finally meets the Man in the Big Red Shoes.

Mr. Lucky is lucky after all.
No matter how shit things are, they can turn out OK....

Mr. Lucky is the title and my personal avatar. I don't pretend it is great work of literature - though at 533 pages, it IS quite a tome - but I DO know it is a worthy thing - many people who have read it were moved, shocked, amused, horrified in equal measure and, all of those things were real and true and happened to me, in real time.

I know, too, that they are happening to other gay men all over the world, and I want THEM to read it, just so they know that their Man in the Big Red Shoes is out there and life can be good, and whole and powerful.

If you know of someone struggling with the themes covered in this book, please, urge them to read it. Apart from being fahhhbulous, it may well help. It may even save a life.

If I achieve that, just once, then my work is done.