Randon Writing – Kolyah – WIP

This is just me writing about whatever comes into my head.  OK, I’m writing as Lisette Zerck.  My mum wrote a story like this when she was young, back in the 80s.  I should get her to type it up.  She wrote about sitting at a typewriter and complaining about the world.  LOL.  Be funny to read.

I would like to tell the story of my friend, Kolyah.  He comes from Ukraine.  He should write his own story up but he just looked at me and laughed.  Actually he is a friend of my mum’s.  Maybe I should get her to write it up.  Maybe I will.  What’s her name you ask?  Can’t remember.  Got to find her book that she wrote in the 80s.

Kolyah was living in Vienna in the early 1980s.  His father was working in the Soviet Embassy.  ‘No, he was not the ambassador!’ Kolyah loved to emphasis.  ‘He just works there.’  There are more staff than the ambassador.

Kolyah had been living there since he was 16.  They went back to Kiev, ‘Kyev, not Kee-ev,’ he always explains to me.  Anyway, he went back to Kiev for a couple of years when he was 19 and 20, then managed to return to do study at Vienna.  How?  Who knows.  ‘It’s all about who knows who and how much money,’ Kolyah said, and no more explanations.

Kolyah is tall, fair headed, blue eyed and stunningly beautiful.  But don’t tell him I told you that.  He doesn’t like people constantly going on about his looks.

‘Well, slash your face then,’ I’ve heard people retort.

He just sneers at them.  Of course he isn’t going to do that.  ‘It is useful when I want it,’ he says.

It’s interesting to hear him react that way.  It is like what women have to put up with, with men constantly leering at them.  He nods very understandingly when I say that.

‘The fair look comes from my mother, who claims her family were originally connected with the Hanseanic League.  So has Swedish ancestry.  But it’s so long ago, who knows?’ and he smiles his delicious smile.

Kolyah’s looks must have caused some initial problems with Peter, I imagine.  Peter is small, dark-haired, definite Jewish blood.

‘Well, he is Landerer.’  A Jewish name, apparently.  I wouldn’t know.

‘Too tall and too blond,’ Peter said.  And smiled.  ‘That was my first reaction, but not now.’

Recommended books

I am preparing a list of good gay books I have read over the years.  I am beginning to list them under RECOMMENDED.  I have only listed those authors I can remember for now, and make only two annotation (reviews).  But hopefully I will continue to add to it.

Even as it is, it is worth googling the names.  (“as it is it is…” what a weird phrase to write, maybe it needs a comma after the first ‘it is’?)


Here’s an interesting site from an e-friend of mine, Nan Hawthorne, who is a mad keen fan of medieval history, and even earlier, Dark ages history (by that I mean, pre 1000 CE).

The site is called Medieval novels, listing novels set in this period.

  • medieval-novels.com
    • Do you have a passion for historical novels set between 400 and 1600 AD?   Check out this ever growing source for new, used, and out of print  novels run by a  novelist in the genre.  Authors, list your books!


Gay Marriage

A new post needed?  OK, I will.  The Greens are pushing for gay marriage in Australia.  I’ve heard stats that say 62% of Aussies support it.  Most others probably don’t care.  Aussies don’t care about things like this.  By don’t care, I mean, “why not?  If they want it, they can have it.  What has it to do with us?”

For some bizarre reason our PM Julia Gilliard is against it.  Why?

Anyway, the mere fact the Greens an bring it up in Parliament is a big step forward.  It’ll come, and I think soon.

Gotta go, “The Office” is on soon.


New Story in Gay Flash Fiction Issue 17

The new issue of Gay Flash Fiction is out – Issue 17.

I have a story in :


I’d see him walk past my stop every day. He’d be walking to school and I’d be catching the bus. We’d just nod to each other; acknowledging our existence, and that we knew we both went to the same school. He was a year above me, so we never had much to do with each other. When we did pass each other at school, it’d be the same nod we’d give.

Five minutes a day, that was about all I ever saw of him. . . (read more)