Gotta Get Outta This Place

Howdy, howdy! How’s everyone today? As I’m typing this (Tuesday afternoon/evening), it’s kind of dreary and the sky spit on us for the first time in a while today. Not much, but at least the ground got wet. Anyway, it’s time for another ‘get to know me’ answer post. This week, we have the number 33 for the lovely Alena. I’ve already done 47 (you can find the list of prompts in that post), 13, and 43. I still have 11 and 27 to go. Feel free to pick another prompt or number between 1 and 50 and I’ll add it to the list. Today’s prompt is “which country do you wish to travel to?”.

Not really.

When I was younger, this would’ve been an easy question. Japan. It’s always been the place I wanted to go to the most in the world. I mentioned I was a weeb in the last post, so this should come as no surprise. Aside from anime and manga, I love the music and the food looks amazing and I’m interested in the culture and all of it. So, of course I want to go there. It’s still in my top three places to go, but slow boats are expensive and I have to worry about accessibility and finding places that meet my needs and all of that crap, so travel in general is difficult. Plus, as I’ve grown, I’ve realized there are so many other places I want to go to as well.

Like England or Ireland or Scotland. All three if we ever actually made it that far. Plus other places. Go big before we go home. We watch far too many British cozies and occasionally find Irish and Scottish shows as well, so they’ve piqued our interests. Mostly the ones with the really nice scenery. Plus, I’ve seen the giant butt plug shaped building in London enough on TV that I kind of want to see it in real life. I don’t understand some of the architectural decisions over there. They had to have seen it in the design phase. Someone had to have pointed it out. But it would be nice to explore the more scenic parts of these places.

It’s called the Gherkin, but it’s obvious what it is.

Australia would be fun too. It seems like a gorgeous place and has amazing animals (flying foxes and wombats!). I guess I don’t really need an excuse to want to go places. Just a desire to go. Australia is one of those places. No idea why I want to go. It just seems like a good idea.

But, like I said, traveling is hard. I can’t fly. Technically, I suppose I’d have to talk to my pulmonologist now that I’m on the vent, but I was told a long time ago not to do it. Even if my lungs could handle it though, I still can’t because in order for cripples to fly, they have to transfer you out of your wheelchair and put it in with the cargo. That’s a big nope. And the horror stories about broken wheelchairs at the other end of flights… no, thanks. So, flying is out. Maybe one day I’ll be rich enough to afford a cruise somewhere nice, but for now, I’ll just dream about it.

Wombat! Look at it! It poops cubes.

Plus, there’s a plague, so I’m not leaving the house anyway. As always, feel free to leave your thoughts or questions here or on my social media page! See you next week for more randomness.

On All-Nighters

Howdy, howdy! How’s everyone doing? It’s currently 6:30 in the morning on Tuesday and I’ve been up all night. Why? So I can answer the phone in a couple of hours and talk to the Social Security Administration about that thing we’ve been trying to work out since July. Why not just get up at 8:30 like a normal person? Because cripples don’t have that luxury. At least I don’t. Both the getting into and out of bed processes take like two hours each (and Dad has to go to bed after he gets me in bed/get up before me), so it’s just easier to stay up when it’s just an anomaly (we never schedule morning appointments, but the government doesn’t listen when you request afternoon ones). Anyway, I used to LOVE staying up all night, especially when I could sleep all day. But now I’m old and this shit is boring.

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, staying up all night was basically a sanctuary. It was the easiest way to spend as little time with my mom as possible. She’d sleep until three or four in the morning, get up and put me in bed, do whatever she did during the morning, then get me up around two or three. It didn’t keep us from fighting all the time, but it helped a little. It also caused some arguments with Dad because he didn’t like me staying up all night (sorry). But those quiet hours between about midnight and three were the absolute best. I miss them a lot sometimes.

But that was back in the days of Yahoo chats and when fansubs (both anime and manga) were spewed all over the Interwebz. Entertaining myself was easy. Finding people to hang out with and be weird with was simple. And being productive (doing school stuff) came naturally during those hours. It was peaceful and wonderful and I’m probably forgetting how boring it actually was, but I’m allowed to romanticize things once in a while.

Now, it’s generally unnecessary (I have no one to avoid anymore) and boring as hell. Tonight, I finished the third Simon and Baz book, read four chapters in this month’s review book, wrote this post because if I waited until this afternoon the entire post would be ZZZ…, and spent far too much time prepping for this upcoming appointment that should really be quite easy (but it’s the government, so I’ve just learned to prepare for hassles). Productivity achieved. But I no longer have friends in distant time zones to be weird with at ungodly hours. I did pester my friend who’s in Germany, but only for a few minutes. Otherwise, I scrolled through Facebook, checked my email like fifty times, and ordered a shirt I really don’t need. It’s just not worth the sleep deprivation anymore.

That’s enough rambling. I’m going to go play some mindless games until closer to the appointment time, then I’ll switch to obsessively checking my phone which is right in front of me with a decent charge and good reception. But I’ll still be in panic mode until the call is over. Enough about me, what about you? Are you a fan of all-nighters? As always, feel free to leave your thoughts here or on my social media pages!

End of Year Rant

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing? Are you ready for the coming year? Things here are annoying, so I thought I would vent a little. It’s nothing super important or life and death or anything. It’s just irksome. The government is involved, so of course everything is taking way longer than it should and it’s all a giant hassle when it should be easy peasy. They’ve had years to streamline the process, but they have not. Just like with everything else they’re involved in. Things shouldn’t be this complicated. But anyway…

Some backstory. Dad started collecting social security this year. Well, according to a lawyer we went to when we made our wills (he specializes in cripple stuff), since I’m cripple, I should’ve been eligible to receive some benefits when Dad started collecting. We knew this, but we didn’t know what all we would have to do when the time came. So, when the SSA said we needed to complete a form for me to receive the benefits, we searched high and low on the website for it, but couldn’t find anything. Ugh. We called on July 23rd to find out what to do. Long story short, I would need to set up a phone meeting and answer some questions (no mention of a form), but there were no appointments available at that time. They would be in touch.

Fast forward to October when Dad starts receiving his benefits. We still haven’t heard anything about my appointment, though we have been calling at least once a month to make sure no one has forgotten. The nice SSA people all assured me it was just a matter of waiting, but that I won’t be penalized because they know I’ve been in touch and trying my best to move things along. The waiting game continues until Dad gets a super weird letter and calls them again himself in November. The lady he talks to thinks the wait is ridiculous as well and puts him in touch with a woman who sends our issue up to her bosses.

Are we, though?

At this point, Thanksgiving is upon us along with the rest of the holidays. More waiting. Then, yesterday I get an email from an ssa.gov email address that contains the correct national phone number to call back, so I open it. My appointment has been scheduled! For February… at like 9 in the morning despite my requests for an afternoon appointment. Whatever. I will make it work. And I will call today to confirm that the appointment is legit, that they have my correct contact info, and who I should call in the event that no one calls me.

Again…

But seriously. Why has it taken over six months just for an appointment? And there’s no guarantee that the appointment will be the end of this process. It probably won’t be, because at that point, they’re probably going to give me trouble about keeping my Medicaid, which will start another cycle of drama. I’m dreading that one even more than this whole mess. Why do they make everything so complicated? Ugh. Wish us luck. I’ll be back next week with my regularly scheduled book review. As always, feel free to share your thoughts and stories here or on my social media pages!

Tricking Myself into Writing

Hello, hello! How is everyone doing today? It’s a gloomy Monday as I’m writing this and I don’t really feel like doing much of anything. So, I decided it’s as good a day as any to write my post for the week. The problem? I have nothing to ramble about. I should probably be working on an actual story or writing my May book review post or something, but I don’t want to. I can do that stuff tomorrow. But I am slowly starting to write again, thanks to the new computer. I guess I can ramble about that. It’s one of those weird cripple things, so be prepared to give me your best “huh?” look.

Yeah, that look.

When I first started using a laptop (actually, any computer), my typing options were to either figure out how to make the keyboard work for me or use Dragon Naturally Speaking (a dictation program). I tried the latter and it was horrible. No matter how much I trained it, at least every other word was wrong. It was more trouble editing stuff than it was worth. So, I decided to use a backscratcher in my right hand and my left index finger to make the hunt-and-peck method of typing work for me. And I was good at it too. Fast enough to keep up with multiple Yahoo chat conversations in a timely manner at least. And accurate enough that I rarely had to fix any typos. It was less hunting/pecking and more just my own form of two “finger” typing. But all good things must end.

After I went through a few different wheelchairs and just as many computers, I eventually reached a point where typing became more difficult than it was worth. Basically, each new chair changed the positions of my hands, the ease with which I could reposition my arms, etc. and each new computer positioned its keyboard and touchpad slightly differently until it all combined to screw with my typing (slowed it down and made the position I had to maintain uncomfortable) enough that I looked for alternatives. By that time, Microsoft had started getting into accessibility features and had added an on-screen keyboard. I’m certainly not as fast with it as I was at typing, but it works well enough. It got me through Stonecoast and has helped me write the majority of the stuff I’ve written since then, so I can’t complain.

Don’t feel bad. Losing stuff like the ability to type is a normal cripple thing.

When this computer arrived, I decided to try typing again. The keyboard is just too pretty not to touch. So, a couple of weeks ago, I started trying to type for 30 minutes at a time. The range of motion in my left arm is absolute shit, which is to be expected. I can’t even reach the E, R, and G keys enough to press them anymore. The number keys (I used to be able to press 1-4 with my left hand) are completely out of reach. And I have to nudge my hand with my backscratcher in order to reach the Q and W. But for some reason, I have a better reach with my backscratcher than I used to, so it compensates a bit for the lack of use in my left hand. Hopefully, with practice, I’ll at least get back enough range of motion for E, R, and G.

Don’t get too excited. I’ve only done this 5 times so far. It’s annoying getting my hands into position, but that should get easier over time. My muscles tire out well before the 30 minutes are up, but I push through and it’s already getting better. I started at 75 words in 30 minutes and have increased each time (reached 245 words when I did it today). I can do 350ish words in a half hour with the on-screen keyboard, so if I can break that, I’ll definitely keep it up. Hopefully, my arms and hands will keep cooperating with me. I don’t fully trust them yet.

Idle Hands. They have a mind of their own. Am I the only one who remembers this stupid movie?

Anyway, in order to practice typing, I needed something to write, so I started a short story. It’s already 1,500 words long because it starts out as typing practice, then I’m in a groove, so I write a little more with the on-screen keyboard. But yeah. All this post is meant to say is that I found a way to trick myself into writing even though I have no motivation. Wootwoot!

What about you? Do you have any weird ways you trick yourself into being productive? As always, feel free to share your thoughts and comments and questions here or on my social media pages!

Push Through The Pain… Or Don’t

Hello, hello!  For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been having some issues with pain brought about by adjusting my seat cushion.  Needless to say, it’s been interfering with my writing.  For three days, it was so bad that I didn’t do anything productive.  Since then, I’ve been able to focus on doing most of the stuff I needed to do.  But I wanted to take today to talk about pain and when to suck it up vs. when to take a break because of it.

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I try.  Sometimes, I fail.

When you’re cripple, pain is pretty much a guarantee.  Every doctor I visit inevitably asks if I’m in any pain, and my go-to response is “no more than usual.”  It’s a given that my neck/left shoulder always hurt, along with my back and hips.  It’s more a matter of how bad I’m hurting.  Low-level (about a three) aches that randomly spike to about a seven on a scale of one to ten are my norm.  Those are the pains I’m used to, and yes, you eventually get used to hurting.  They’re the pains that I can ignore and go about my day with.

But what about the days those random spikes linger?  What about the days when the pain is so different (not necessarily bad, just unusual) that it distracts me from the things I need to focus on?  Honestly, most of the time, I pop some Aspirin and goof around until it kicks in, then get back to work.  As long as everything eventually returns to normal, I don’t worry about it too much.  Granted, sometimes I waste a lot of time trying to figure out why I’m feeling the way I do, but that could just be another form of procrastination for me.

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Occasionally, there are days when the pain is higher than normal and doesn’t go away even with Aspirin.  If I can figure out why I’m in pain, I try to figure out how to stop it, which can be a trial and error bit that lasts a couple of days (like with my seat).  I know I’ll never be able to focus on those days.  When I have pain like that, I usually move around a lot and have to sit in positions that make working at the computer impossible.  Not to mention, pain makes it really hard to focus.  My mind gets all jittery.  Those are the days that I say screw writing and everything else I need to do.  And that’s okay.  We all deserve a little time off when we’re in pain.

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Stare blankly at the wall until the pain goes away.

So, if you’re not already aware of what kind of pain is normal for you, try to learn.  It makes the decision to push through or take a break much easier.  What do you do when you’re hurting?  Do you pop a couple of pills and wait for them to kick in?  Do you do yoga or tai chi or some other exercise in the hopes of working the pain out?  Perhaps you meditate.  Whatever your method of dealing with aches and unusual pains, feel free to share your tips and tricks here or on my social media pages!

Toyota Music Factory: State-Of-The-Art Experience Or Not?

Hello, hello!  On Monday, Dad surprised me with a trip out to Irving to see the Moody Blues.  They’re a band that Dad and I both enjoy.  I was raised on them.  They played a lot of songs I knew and a few I didn’t.  Of course, Dad sang along to all of them.  We both had a lot of fun, though Dad couldn’t figure out how all the other fans had gotten so old while he stayed young.  But I wanted to talk about the venue, the Toyota Music Factory, and our experience there.

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Still love their music!

According to their FAQ section, “Toyota Music Factory is an experience – with 25 restaurants and entertainment concepts, an Alamo Drafthouse Theater, and the Pavilion – an 8,000 capacity indoor/outdoor, state-of-the-art concert venue, Toyota Music Factory is the new soul of the DFW Metroplex. From power lunches to happy hours, date nights to show time, it’s sure to satisfy any taste in food, music, movies, and more.”  But is it really?

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s a fabulous concept.  Being able to arrive a couple of hours early and stop for dinner at one of the on-site restaurants is great, especially for people who don’t know the area well (like us).  And since it’s not even a year old (it officially opened in September of 2017), minor problems are to be expected.  Case in point, the security people on parking duty had absolutely no clue about handicap parking.  Even the valet people seemed confused, but there was one cripple spot left up front, so they told us to go ahead and park there instead of in one of the garages.  And that was once we were there.  The signage to get to the place was absolutely horrible.  But I don’t know if that’s a venue issue or a city of Irving issue.

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Borrowed from TMF’s website.

The Pavilion (the music venue itself) was a nice place, but I wouldn’t call it state-of-the-art by any means.  It was stark, all concrete and wood.  It actually reminded me of some of the small venues I’ve been to, only ten times the size.  There wasn’t an actual elevator.  Instead, they have a “lift,” which is a base with a wall on either side, but the front and back are exposed to the concrete/doors of the shaft.  So, while it’s moving, you better keep yourself away from the front and back.  Then there was the seating.  Handicap seating was fairly close (second section) with a barrier that didn’t obstruct the view.  We were in the center.  There was also some handicap seating up in the third section.  But even though the floor seating was the same as the companion seats in the cripple sections, easily removed folding chairs (seemed kind of chintzy for “state-of-the-art”), there weren’t any handicap tickets available down there.  It wasn’t a bad venue by any means, but it certainly wasn’t what they advertise it to be.

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The lift was something like this, encased in concrete.

Overall, it’s a venue I wouldn’t mind going back to if a band worth seeing comes through.  All of the staff were friendly and helpful, which goes a long way to balancing out the not-so-good aspects of the place.  However, it’s definitely not going to be the “new soul” of DFW unless they make some significant improvements.  Plus, it’s all the way over in Irving, so the bands will have to be really good to make me go back.

It Just Irks Me

Hello, hello!  The past few weeks, I’ve been really diligent about submitting to at least two magazines or anthologies each Monday.  This means that I’ve been going through Duotrope, Ralan’s site, and random calls for submissions.  In my searches, I came across a really neat anthology that I will likely submit to if I can come up with a story that falls in the realm of Sci-Fi, but something about their call rubs me the wrong way.  They’re looking for people who “identify as disabled.”  I had to read their call three times before I realized it was that exact phrase that made me twitch every time.  Something about it just irks me.

head tilt
If I could tilt my head, this would’ve been my reaction.

The anthology is being put together by people with disabilities and will be comprised of stories/essays/poems/etc. by people with disabilities, so I want to be clear that I think it’s a wonderful thing and I look forward to reading it.  The thing that makes me pause and overthink everything is the concept of choosing whether or not to identify as disabled.  It’s something I never really thought about before, because my crippleness is so apparent that not having it as part of my identity was never an option.  In my experience, people are either disabled or they aren’t.  They don’t really get a choice.

Sure, some disabilities are less severe than others.  Some are even invisible.  But a disability is a disability regardless of whether outsiders can tell it’s there or not.  If you’re disabled in a way that isn’t apparent to others and you choose to keep it to yourself, that’s your prerogative, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re disabled.  If you don’t have a physical or mental deficit/difference, even if you want one (which apparently is a thing, though I have no idea why anyone would want to be disabled), then you aren’t disabled.  You could become disabled in the future, but you aren’t right now.  Disabilities don’t care how you identify.  They either happen to you or they don’t.

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From Ctrl+Alt+Del.  I still laugh when I come across this one.

I suppose my biggest issue with the idea of choosing whether or not to identify as disabled is that it implies disability is some kind of social construct that people can opt into or out of whenever they want.  It’s not.  Disabilities are diseases and abnormalities that people have to deal with every single day.  It’s not a choice.  It’s not politics.  It’s the hand life decided to deal us.

But I also know there are a lot of people who struggle with the idea of whether or not they’re “disabled enough” to claim the title.  That’s why the anthology uses the concept of identity in its call.  They want to include as many people as possible and they want people with disabilities to know that they aren’t judging what counts as a disability.  They want people to feel welcome to submit no matter the type of disability or severity.  In my head, I know and understand this.  I even think it’s a diplomatic way to handle a tough situation.  It’s just something that made me stop and think.

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I do this far too often.

I’m going to stop rambling now.  Feel free to leave your thoughts or comments here or on my social media pages!

The Problem With Privilege…

Howdy, howdy!  Any time something awful happens in the world, after the initial shock wears off, there seems to be an uptick in talk about “privilege” among my Interwebz friends.  I don’t know why.  Awful things happen because people suck, not because they’re privileged.  But still, the debates arise.  Normally, I avoid these conversations and keep my opinions to myself because, frankly, my opinion doesn’t really matter and doesn’t mesh with most of my friends’ opinions.  So, instead of joining the debates on Facebook and Twitter (which almost always devolve into name calling), I thought I would share my thoughts about privilege and my experience with it here.

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I, in fact, do not like to live dangerously, but here it goes

I actually really hate it when people start throwing around the word “privilege.”  It’s not because I don’t believe it exists, but because I don’t believe it’s an insult to the people you’re calling privileged.  Nor is it something to be ashamed of.  A privilege is a good thing.  According to the OED, a privilege is “a right, advantage, or immunity granted to or enjoyed by an individual, corporation of individuals, etc., beyond the usual rights or advantages of others.”  Why would anyone in their right mind be ashamed of that?  Granted, not everyone has earned these benefits, but be honest… if you received some kind of special treatment from other people, would you feel guilty?  I don’t, and I get a lot of special treatment (cripple privilege is very much a thing).

The word “privilege” is, however, an insult to everyone you’re not including in it.  I’m white, which comes with its own set of privileges according to the people who bandy that word around.  I’m also female, crippled, and not entirely heterosexual.  All of which, according to these same people, make me somehow lesser in the eyes of others.  Don’t get me wrong, these people will tell me that I’m just as good as everyone else, just as good as a straight, white, able bodied male, then they turn around and say that the male has more privilege (read: is treated, and thus viewed as, better by others) because of the way he was born.  That’s a contradiction.  I’ve had this conversation before (oddly enough, never with the straight, white, able males because I’ve never met one with the gall to insinuate I’m lesser to my face) and I really want to tell people to make up their damn minds.  Are we equal or is he (the so-called privileged guy) better?  You can’t have it both ways.

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I also dislike calling people privileged just because they got certain genes, because it gives them a kind of power they don’t deserve.  Everyone deserves respect and courtesy, but that’s because we’re all humans.  Treat people the way you want to be treated until they give you a reason to treat them differently.  Don’t give them special treatment then call them privileged, because at that point they’re just accepting what others are offering them.  Now, if they demand to be treated better than everyone else, they’re entitled asshats.  Entitlement is different from privilege.  Entitlement means they’re assuming they’re special.  Privilege means you’re assuming they’re special.  At least, that’s how I feel about it.

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This is what I think of when they talk about privilege.

I know this post will piss people off, but it’s just my own thoughts.  “Privilege” isn’t something we should feel bad about having.  It’s something that is given to us by other people and it can be taken away.  All the word really does is reinforce the idea that some of us are lesser because of genetics, which is stupid and hurtful.  I think a better phrase to describe people who think they’re privileged is to say they have an unhealthy “sense of entitlement.”  That’s all.

Feel free to share your thoughts or comments here or on my social media pages!

Books Vs. eBooks

Hello, hello!  It’s October already, so I wanted to give you a quick update on my September goals before I get into this week’s ramblings.  I wrote about 19,000 words (huzzah!), finished reading two books and am working on a third (which is where this post is coming from), queried my 100th agent (the waiting continues), submitted a flash piece to my critique group, and messaged some different people (the conversations didn’t last long, but at least I tried).  In other words, September was super productive and I hope October will be as well!

Now, onto what this post is really about: books.  Pretty much everyone I know has strong opinions on whether regular old books or ebooks (Kindle, Nook, etc.) are better.  Here are my thoughts.

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Book 1, eBook 0

First up are books.  Personally, I adore them.  The smell of an old book is basically the best thing ever.  The feel of a page against your hand is lovely.  And going into a library or bookstore (or our back bedroom) to peruse titles is one of the funnest activities in the world.  Or maybe it’s just a nice activity because it doesn’t usually have to involve other people (unless you’re me), which is a plus for introverts.  There’s also something about seeing book covers outside of a screen that’s awesome.  I bought one book online and had no idea its cover was shiny and metallic until it got here, which only made it cooler.  So yes, I love books.

On the other hand, books are a pain in the ass for me.  If they aren’t in a couple of very particular places, I can’t grab them by myself when I’m in the mood to read.  I know asking someone (read: Dad) to hand me a book isn’t a big deal, but it requires them to stop whatever they’re doing just for that.  It’s weird.  Plus, I sometimes have trouble opening/keeping a book open (especially when they’re new).  If you’ve ever had a book close itself and forgot what page you were on, you know how annoying it is.

Books-are-a-uniquely-portable-magic.

Next up are ebooks.  In my opinion, they aren’t nearly as magical as regular books.  No one can see the cool cover as you read or how far along you are, so they can’t really strike up a conversation about the book (but who really wants that when they’re reading?).  They don’t smell, they don’t have weird stains on the pages, they don’t have the right feel.  BUT!  They’re easier for me to use.  I can pull a book up on my phone or computer whenever I want.  I can browse for titles online without any help.  They’re just really convenient for people with a limited range of motion.  And that makes them awesome in their own special way.

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It’s true.

Ultimately, for me, both books and ebooks have their pluses (neither of the plurals for that word look right) and minuses.  If I love an author and can be reasonably sure I’ll like the book, I’ll automatically opt for a hardcopy.  If I don’t know the author or have doubts about whether I’ll enjoy a book, I automatically go the ebook route.  For everything in between, my choice usually boils down to how fast I want/need the book.

What about you?  Do you prefer one over the other?  Why or why not?  Feel free to share your thoughts and comments here or on my social media pages!

Avoiding Becoming The Token Cripple

Howdy, howdy!  I hope everyone is having a wonderful week.  Today, I want to talk a little about some of my struggles with deciding how much to reveal about myself when submitting to publishers and/or agents.  I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things, especially with Garnets and Guardians, because being cripple is the best asset one can have when writing cripple characters, right?  But, honestly, it’s really difficult to know how much to reveal about yourself and how that information is going to influence the people who are ultimately judging your talent (or lack thereof).

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There’s a thin line that I don’t want to cross.

When it comes to submitting short stories to various magazines, I don’t bother mentioning my disability.  Mostly, I keep it to myself because it has no bearing on the stories I submit.  There aren’t any cripple characters in my short stories, so there’s no point in mentioning it.  But, I also keep it to myself because I fear the concept of a pity pub (getting published because they feel sorry for me).  I understand that these are professionals who are supposed to be above such actions, but years of “cripple perks” (earning awards in high school for simply doing the work I was assigned, being called “inspirational” at college just because I preferred classes on campus instead of online, etc.) have made me wary of succeeding in subjective areas.  It’s just something I will always be worried about.

However, when I began submitting Garnets and Guardians to agents, I was forced to reevaluate the choice to keep my disability out of things.  On the one hand, I don’t want to take the chance of people judging my writing less harshly just because I’m cripple.  I also don’t want agents to become intrigued by me even if they aren’t enthusiastic about my writing.  I’m not interested in being anyone’s token cripple.  On the other hand, the protagonist of my novel has a disability, so my own crippleness gives me a unique perspective into her development as a realistic character.

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We can’t all write Timmy and Jimmy.

In the end, I chose simply to mention my disability in passing in my query letter.  I don’t know if it’s the correct decision or not.  Sometimes, I wonder if I should go into more detail, but then I worry it will seem like I’m hoping for special treatment, which I also want to avoid.  I was raised to never expect or ask for special treatment beyond the accommodations I need (but not to turn it down in certain cases either).  But ultimately, a brief mention of it to establish that I have knowledge about cripple experiences feels necessary.  Besides, if my query letter intrigues an agent and they decide to look at my website or blog, they’re going to find out about my crippleness anyway, so it’s not as if I’m hiding it.

mermaid
I try, but how much of myself should I be?

So yeah, while I don’t technically hide my disability from people, I remain wary about announcing it in a professional (virtually anonymous) setting just in case it will cause people to think differently about me.  What about you?  Is there anything you refrain from mentioning because of similar reasons?  What about completely different reasons?  Feel free to share here or on my social media sites!

Until next time!