Embracing Our Past: Bringing LGBTQ+ Narratives to the Forefront

As a gay man and a writer, my stories have often explored a variety of themes, yet until recently, I have not placed LGBTQ+ characters at the very heart of my published works. It’s not that I have deliberately avoided writing about queer experiences, but rather that other stories have called to me first. However, this year marks a turning point in my journey as an author, as I finally bring LGBTQ+ narratives to the forefront of my work.

Two of my latest publications shine a light on queer history in different ways. The first is my short story, David, which is free to read on my website. This tale reimagines the life of Michelangelo, delving into a same-sex romance that explores the artist’s personal world, his passions, and the tensions of his time. The second is The Green Carnation Society, the fourth book in my Detective Matthews series, which is set in Victorian Whitby, North Yorkshire. In this novel, I take a deeper dive into the LGBTQ+ culture of the time, exploring how it flourished behind closed doors despite the social constraints and legal dangers that loomed over it. The title itself is a nod to Oscar Wilde, whose flamboyant embrace of the green carnation became a symbol of queer identity in an era that was both cruel and fascinating in its treatment of homosexuality.

LGBTQ+ History: Hidden, Erased, and Rediscovered

One of the reasons I feel it’s so important to tell these stories is because LGBTQ+ history has often been ignored, erased, or rewritten to fit a more socially acceptable narrative. But LGBTQ+ people have always been here. Their stories, loves, and struggles have shaped history, even when their identities have been obscured.

Take Achilles, for example. In classical antiquity, many saw his relationship with Patroclus as a deep and passionate love story. Yet for centuries, this interpretation was dismissed or sanitised, reduced to mere “brotherly affection.” It’s only in more recent years, thanks to works like Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles, that we’ve seen a revival of Achilles as a queer icon, celebrated for his love as much as his heroism. Similarly, Alexander the Great has often been portrayed through a strictly heterosexual lens, despite historical evidence suggesting that his relationships with men were just as significant as those with women. The recent Netflix series about him has reignited discussions about his sexuality, forcing us to reconsider how historical figures have been framed in mainstream narratives.

The Victorian Era and The Green Carnation Society

The Victorian era was a time of deep contradictions when it came to LGBTQ+ lives. While it was an age of strict morality and harsh laws—including the infamous 1885 Criminal Law Amendment Act that led to Oscar Wilde’s imprisonment—it was also a period when queer subcultures thrived in hidden spaces. London had its underground clubs, and Whitby, where my Detective Matthews series is set, was home to artists, writers, and thinkers who subtly defied societal norms.

In The Green Carnation Society, I wanted to capture the essence of this hidden world. Detective Matthews, who has always been an observer of human nature, finds himself drawn into a case that exposes the double lives many were forced to lead. I was heavily inspired by Wilde’s wit, tragedy, and rebellion, and I hope the novel serves as both an engaging mystery and a tribute to those who lived in defiance of society’s rigid expectations.

Unknown LGBTQ+ Figures in History

Thanks to films and television, figures like Alan Turing have finally gained the recognition they deserve. His work in cracking the Enigma code was pivotal to the Allied victory in World War II, yet his persecution for being gay remains one of the great injustices of modern history. But beyond Turing, there are many other LGBTQ+ figures whose stories deserve to be told.

Dr. James Barry, for instance, was a pioneering surgeon in the British Army in the 19th century. Assigned female at birth, Barry lived as a man throughout his military career, performing one of the first recorded successful cesarean sections and pushing for medical reforms. His gender identity remains a topic of discussion, but his contributions to medicine cannot be denied.

Another often-overlooked figure is Anne Lister, an early 19th-century diarist and landowner whose detailed journals document her relationships with women. Dubbed “the first modern lesbian,” Lister defied societal expectations, living openly with her partner and managing her estates with authority.

Bayard Rustin was a key strategist of the American civil rights movement and a close advisor to Martin Luther King Jr. Despite his crucial role in organizing the 1963 March on Washington, Rustin was often sidelined due to his sexuality. His legacy, however, remains a powerful reminder of how LGBTQ+ individuals have been instrumental in shaping history.

Why These Stories Matter

Representation matters—not just in contemporary fiction but in historical narratives too. By reclaiming these stories, we ensure that future generations understand that LGBTQ+ people have always existed, loved, and contributed to society in profound ways. Organisations like English Heritage have done remarkable work in uncovering and preserving these histories, reminding us that the past is richer and more diverse than many textbooks would have us believe.

I don’t want to sound as though I’m preaching. I simply want to share my passion for history and storytelling, and to highlight how much has been lost or forgotten. When we acknowledge these erased histories, we don’t just honour those who came before us—we also pave the way for more honest, inclusive storytelling in the future.

With David and The Green Carnation Society, I am proud to be taking small steps in that direction. And I hope that readers, whether they identify as LGBTQ+ or not, will find meaning, intrigue, and perhaps even a sense of connection in these stories.