Studying anthropology at the university of Amsterdam, I enjoyed writing essays and received high grades. In his speech at my graduation, my tutor read a part of my thesis, highlighting how much he liked my writing, suggesting that I should seriously think about becoming an author.

That started me thinking. It was, of course, a wonderful thing to hear, but did I really have it in me? After some short stories, I wrote my novel Cajú. I spent much time in Brazil to do research, which eventually led to this book. I sent the first chapter to several publishers in Amsterdam, and one invited me over for an interview—an old publishing house, known for their high literary standards.

It didn’t lead to publication. However, it strengthened my conviction that my writing had quality, and it made me more ambitious to go on. The manuscript of my second novel, Walking Among Us, won a prize in a contest, which attracted the attention of a Belgian publishing house. I signed a contract and was a published author from that day on. They also published Cajú, as well as my third novel The Girl in the Web. All three novels are mysterious and spiritual, and were written after anthropological research.

During Covid, my publisher went bankrupt and I republished my books myself, in Dutch and in English. And I wrote two autobiographical works: a nonfiction narrative, Dog Gone, and a memoir, Boy One, my latest book.

 

I use many experiences from my own life in my novels. Before I became a writer, I was mainly working as a drummer/percussionist. With my band Outcry, I toured the Pacific Northwest in the 90s. We played grunge, the big hype in those days. My first novel Walking Among Us is a tribute to that band. I was and still am fascinated by Sasquatch, so I created a thrilling, spiritual story in the woods of Oregon.

My second novel, Cajú, plays mainly in Brazil, where I did anthropological research. The protagonist is a girl, but she could just as well be me. Her experiences were based on mine, with much fantasy added. After reading it, you will have learned something about Brazilian temperament and spirituality.

My third novel, The Girl in the Web, again has a female protagonist. I guess I find that easy, being a gay man, who wanted to be a girl when he found out he was a boy at a very young age. I spent time in Pine Ridge, South Dakota, to see Wounded Knee and learned everything about the Lakota and their history. I used my fantasy to create a mysterious and spiritual story that takes you from Austria to Holland to Pine Ridge and back, in which the concept of time is challenged.

Dog Gone, a nonfiction narrative, is about the years I lived in Spain, in a happy relationship that ended with the death of my lover, and meeting my husband in America. My pets play an important role, two cats and a dog. It’s a story filled with human emotions, interspersed with tragicomical scenes of the love among dogs and cats and their owners.

Boy One, a memoir, is my new book. It’s the story I was afraid to write, let alone publish, because it’s so much about me, about a part of my younger life, starting when I was a naïve teenager in the closet; a part of my life that I’ve been ashamed of for all the wrong reasons.

I was the young lover of John Stamford, the eccentric and middle-aged editor/owner of the famous Spartacus Gay Guide, and together we travelled around the world. The memoir covers how we met, the power games he played, and the rise and fall of the guide, as well as the scandals.

In the 80s and 90s, the guide was a travel atlas, the roadmap every gay man on the move had in his back pocket because it opened a world of opportunities to its gay subscribers, not unlike the Green Book for Afro-Americans. No matter where one was around the globe, the gay-friendly bars and clubs were identified. It made travel a glorious funfest.

But the farther I travelled, the deeper I was immersed in a seedy underworld of possibly illegal, certainly immoral activity in which I might be complicit. This memoir details what went on behind the scenes, the power and influence the guide generated, and the attendant misuse of that influence. After appearing on the guide’s cover, I strived to escape the magazine and my lover, but it wasn’t easy. John harbored a manic attraction for me and vice versa.

My husband Geno encouraged me to go ahead and write it. He convinced me it had to be told, because it’s part of gay history and people should know. Looking back, it was good therapy: I’m not ashamed anymore.

 

If you enjoy my writing, check out my fiction and nonfiction on this website.