Almost a year ago, I met someone, older than me, with whom it turned out we shared some things in common. We both knew the same city where he had grown up, we both had a desire to write. He had already written a number of stories and books, but was no longer writing. I had practically not even started.

There was a unity and empathy between us. Unexpectedly, he gave me a tablet, which he said he no longer had any use for, and with that tablet a draft of a story. A story that he would never write, but which he said I could use. I should not mention his name, this was the only condition.

So I began writing his story, but, of course, I elaborated, invented, and imagined, although I also checked out a few facts on the net. The story in not finished, I’m not sure where or when it will finish?

This type of writing, I discovered, has a genre all of its own, a fictionalised biography. A person's life story based partly on fact and enhanced by the author's imagination. Materials are freely invented, scenes and conversations are imagined; the writing depends almost entirely upon secondary sources and cursory research.

Initially, the story was rejected and criticised by a number of people. Something which set me back. How was I to continue writing in the face of several negative comments? Was it my inexperience? My style? What would be the point of writing a book that no one would publish? Nevertheless, I was confident I could write and set out to prove my worth with two other stories. Thus, I ended up writing three totally different books.

I had no idea what or how to title the draft story I’d been given, and which I was turning into a fictionalised biography. Until I happened upon a definition in the Urban Dictionary: Camp echo - a place where people find their BFF’s, Best Friend’s Forever. When you go to camp echo your dreams and goals are high. Cabin secrets, fun, and more fill your summer for seven weeks. Camp echo is the best place in the world.

Camp echo is the most beautiful place on earth. With tall trees, an open lake, huge fields and one big family. At camp echo the campers come and stay, never wanting to leave. The tears will flow and you never want to let go of the best seven weeks of your life. With inside jokes and memories, there’s never a day wasted. There’s a true magic about camp echo. The bonds you make will last a lifetime. Eagles fly.

The title struck a chord with me, although it was not going to be a story about a summer camp, it embodied all those emotions and experiences. Meeting people, dreams, goals, and discovery. There was an element of life at play. It was not my life, and not the reader’s, but surely anyone would recognise it was real.

The summary I wrote and re-wrote, to introduce the story and tell readers what it was about, probably fails to do it justice. My writing probably fails to do it justice. But it’s a great story. It deserves to be told. Fictionalised or not, it is someone's life.

Finding the pub was easy. You wouldn’t even need to know the name, but he did. Jonathan had specified the time and place. The crowd of early evening drinkers spread outside onto the pavement. Under any other circumstances Max would have ignored them and walked on by. But he very much wanted to meet Jonathan, he was banking on getting invited back. Jonathan said the pub was near to where he lived. Max squeezed his way through the crowd as one or two heads turned his way, but he was mostly ignored. Still he was careful not to bump anyone or spill anyone’s drink. He thought about Reuben as he found the front door and went inside, it seemed distinctly full of leather men. Somewhat daunting, but he was a boy with a mission.

Once I found somewhere I could self-publish, I’d been rejected by every site I’d submitted the story to, I uploaded, with trepidation, the first chapter. The choice is limited for self-publishing gay writing, Nifty and Gay Authors, I started posting this story on the latter site. Slowly, as the chapters got posted, I picked up a handful of followers, some likes, and best of all one person who wrote chapter comments.

“I liked the way that, in spite of the fact that it was nearly all dialogue, we managed to get to know so many different characters.

“The drug bust brought back a personal memory of being searched for drugs as a student back in the late 60's.

“And have I remembered to say how much I am loving this story?”

Those comments were invaluable, and the support of this one person had a huge impact on my nascent writing career. I started to write my own book and this wonderful person agreed to read, comment and edit, what in effect was my first online story, now finished. Perseverance, combined with what is a completely different type of story, allowed me to find an online publisher. Now that first novel is about to be published online.

I have not forgotten Camp Echo, and with one shortly to be published novel under my belt, I have once again turned my attention to this story. My only dilemma is, what do I do when the draft story outline and notes I inherited reach an end? I have thought about paying my retired writer friend a visit, and if he were willing, to interview him about what happened next. However, I am neither certain that he would be willing or that that is a good course of action. Like the camp echo definition which describes seven weeks of summer as the timeframe during which everything happens, perhaps this should be the life cameo I was given, and end quite simply where it ends?