Elizabeth Roderick's Blog, page 7

The Process of Critique and Revision of #OwnVoices Stories

I decided to submit to the Pitch Wars writing contest this year. For those of you who haven’t heard of it, this isn’t the usual sort of writing contest, where you submit a “perfect” polished story and the “best” one wins. Pitch Wars contestants submit the query and first chapter of a book that has been edited and revised, but which might benefit from some revision before being pitched. The contestants chosen then spend several short weeks working with a mentor—a professional author—in order to rework and polish their manuscript and query. The resulting queries and books are then showcased in an agent round, where agents request to see more pages of the books that catch their eye. A large percentage of the writers chosen for this contest end up signing with agents.

The question came up during this contest, as it always does: how willing are potential mentees to do complete rewrites of their books based on mentor suggestions?

Because of the nature of this contest, everyone’s answer should be “extremely willing!” However, when this question was posed, my answer was somewhat more hesitant. “Yes, but…” I have a good reason for this hesitation, though. I’ll surely do myself no further damage by discussing why, in further detail.

Accepting hard critique and doing major revisions of your manuscript is never easy. At times, it can be excruciating and brutal. Stories about the revisions Pitch Wars contestants have done based on mentor suggestions are often tales of terror: “I had a few weeks to change the main character, their goals, the stakes, and the main love interest.” (That might be slightly exaggerated, but really not much.)

Most writers would balk at this level of rewriting, it’s true: our stories are our babies. However, we did enter this contest. It’s what we signed up for. And if we’re not willing to make revisions and go the extra mile to make our stories better, we may be in the wrong business altogether.

Don’t get me wrong: it may be hard for me to take critique sometimes, but I take it. I’ve ended up making major revisions based on critique that at first blush had me howling, because once it had sunk in I’d seen its validity. And, though I do believe an artist’s vision is something to be treasured, I’m not one of those jerkoffs that thinks tampering with it in any way is “selling out”. In my experience, the phrase “selling out” is only used by people who have never seriously tried to be artists. Critique and revision is an intrinsic part of the artistic process. Even songwriters (of which I’m one) work with other musicians, band members, producers, and engineers in order to hone and polish their work. Not all changes will be met with universal approval, but it’s still part of the process.

My reason for hesitation with regard to unconditional acceptance of critique with my Pitch Wars manuscript in particular is because the book I submitted to Pitch Wars this year is an #ownvocies book, and I’ve had some really bad experiences in the past with critique of my #ownvocies writing.

The Pitch Wars mentors are top notch. They are seasoned professionals with an excellent grasp of what makes a great story, and also of what makes a story marketable. I do trust them. I trust my CPs and betas, as well. I think they all have my best interests at heart. The root of the problem in an #ownvoices situation is that, sometimes, what makes a “great” and “marketable” story isn’t always compatible with an #ownvocies writer telling their story “how it is”. This is the whole reason for the need for diverse books and #ownvoices writers to begin with: we’re telling the story the way you haven’t heard it before, from our point of view. That isn’t always the story readers want to hear, or the one the market wants, because it’s not always comfortable. But there needs to be room for #ownvocies writers to tell the stories they need to tell without outsiders changing them to be more in line with what people expect.

I do know that I need to work hard to make my characters and my stories appealing and relatable for readers and agents. I DO work hard to do this. With characters like mine, not to toot my own horn, but I really have learned to bend over backwards to make them resonate with readers, in a way a lot of writers don’t have to do. That’s how I’ve gotten my books published so far, even though they’re written from the points of view of some pretty traditionally “unlikable” characters: characters that readers generally have a hard time identifying with. But if I had taken all the well-meaning suggestions of CPs/Betas/Agents/Editors, my stories would not have been #ownvoices any longer.

The first book of mine that could be called #ownvocies is The Hustle. When I first started putting the book out with critique groups in late 2014, #ownvoices wasn’t a thing yet. There was a call for diversity, and of course the idea of #ownvocies was there, but a real push for members of diverse groups to tell their own stories in their own way is startlingly new, and still developing. So, when I put The Hustle in front of critiquers, I knew that I felt differently about their advice, but I didn’t have the umbrella of the #ownvoices hashtag, as it were, under which to discuss the reason for that different feeling in a safe place where I might be understood.

The main character in The Hustle, Liria, had a pretty rough childhood. She has  some mental health and addiction issues resulting from that, and when the book opens she’s homeless and addicted to heroin, with only the beginnings of realization that she won’t live much longer if she doesn’t make some changes. Liria, however, is in a position where she doesn’t have a lot of real options, and she has to do a lot of stuff she isn’t exactly proud of in order to get by and try to get ahead.

Critiquers said things about The Hustle like, “You need to give us something to like about your main character. Is she at least pretty?” (Direct quote there.)  They were frustrated with Liria for her continued relapses and bad choices. “It’s like she doesn’t even want a better life.” As examples of compelling stories of people like Liria that I could integrate into my narrative to make it more compelling, critiquers would cite tales of homeless addicts they’d seen in the media: stories of beautiful blonde girls who had fallen into meth addiction because of some terrible tragedy outside their control, and ended up murdered.

The reason for these well-meaning suggestions is that Liria’s situation is something most people in the literary world truly have no concept of. They sometimes think they do, but they don’t. If you haven’t been an addict on the streets, you really can’t understand what it’s like. You can’t understand that sometimes you make bad decisions because there are no good decisions left to you. Even if by some miracle there are, you have no idea what they are or how to make them, because you’ve no experience with how to make good decisions, and/or you’ve no confidence in yourself to make them. Most of my critiquers had no insight into Liria’s hopes and fears and, despite it all, her joys and loves: because a lot of folks miss that there is good in even the most destitute and desperate of people, and that they have inner lives every bit as rich as their own. With The Hustle, the critiquers wanted me to use pity to hook the audience, instead of helping me to hone my own voice in order to draw readers in with the dark (but compelling) beauty and nuance of what life on the streets can actually be like. If I’d taken their suggestions, I might have had an easier road to publication; I might have better sales now. However, I wouldn’t have been adding my own voice to the literary world.

My voice has value. It’s all I have to offer, and I have to offer it, even if it hurts my career J

I faced similar problems with my book The Other Place (which isn’t an #ownvoices book, but it is extremely close) and with the #ownvoices book I submitted to Pitch Wars, True Story. Both of those books have neurodiverse main characters: Justin from The Other Place has schizophrenia, and Mike from True Story has bipolar psychosis, like me. Critiquers asked me to make Justin and Mike “less crazy”. They said it seemed at times like they were “acting out for attention” and like they were “bad news”: in short, all the things people sometimes say about me in real life.

People tended, also, to be disbelieving about the treatment my neurodiverse characters receive from the community, the police, and mental health professionals in these books. If you haven’t experienced this discrimination first-hand, it might seem outlandish and unrealistic, but unfortunately it’s not.

I also had one very nice, very professional, and very insightful agent tell me, after reading the full manuscript of The Other Place, that she would have rather the story had been about Justin coming to terms with his toxic mother and others in his environment that misunderstood him; learning to control his schizophrenia (with the help of his well-meaning girlfriend, of course); then getting his GED and becoming a successful, somewhat stable artist. That’s a beautiful narrative. It’s also one we’ve all heard before. My experience as a neurodiverse person is not so simple, nor is it for many of the neurodiverse people I’m close to and care about. That narrative is a good narrative, but it’s not really an #ownvoices narrative. The lives of people like me tend to be messy—even rather messier than the average person’s. We tend to alienate a lot of good, well-intentioned people because they don’t know what to do for us or with us. We tend to fail at a lot of things we try to do, because our mental illness causes us to behave in a certain way and/or people in our chosen profession see us as a liability and aren’t willing to give us a chance. We tend to be exploited, hurt, disenfranchised, discriminated against, and downtrodden more than people in the general population.

A lot of folks think neurodiverse people need to be “saved” and shown how to live a “normal” life, and so these are the stories they want to see written about neurodiverse people. But I want to tell stories about people like me who save themselves and people who make good lives out of the supposedly “flawed” materials they are given. Those lives may not always look the way most people want their lives to look, but that doesn’t mean they’re not good lives.

The thing that may surprise SOME of you is that I did, indeed, take all the critiques I’ve described above into consideration. After all, this is my audience. I need to make my characters as accessible as I can, or no one will read the book in the first place. Learning to work with these critiques has been a really excruciating process, and one that has really helped me to grow as a writer: I’ve had to find ways to make my characters and stories more compelling without sacrificing their authenticity.

I still have plenty of room to grow in my craft, of course. I would really love a mentor and/or agent to fall in love with my stories, and to help me to take my writing to the next level. The best thing for me and my writing, however, would be if that person understood me and my characters, so they could help me to hone my own voice so that I can use it to the best of my ability. No matter how wonderful, talented, savvy, and well-intentioned potential mentors and agents are, this job is more difficult and nuanced when you’re working with someone’s #ownvoices story. Not everyone will be right for the job. The Pitch Wars mentors (as well as literary agents) know this, of course.

This is the reasoning behind any hesitation I’ve expressed with regard to arbitrarily accepting all revision suggestions.

 

Pitch Wars #PimpMyBio: “Coming Out” About My #OwnVoices Book

I’m late to the Pitch Wars #Pimpmybio party, which is odd, because I usually have a bad habit of showing up way too early at most parties.

I just this morning resolved to enter the contest. This will be my third time entering Pitch Wars, and I’ve entered with a different manuscript each time. The first time, I entered the very first novel I’d ever completed, the first in a series of seven YA urban fantasy novels. I’ve since put that series on the back burner; it needs serious editing with my now-more-trained eye before I pitch it again.

The novel I entered last year, The Other Place, is an upper YA/NA contemporary magical realism novel. It’s about a young man with schizophrenia trying to make it as an artist, find love, and find his place in the world. This book was released by Limitless Publishing on 7/5/16.

Yes, I know. I’m a published author, and so I feel a little shy entering Pitch Wars. I know (from experience, unfortunately) that some other contestants are likely giving me the stink-eye, wishing I’d step aside to give the less fortunate a chance. But I don’t have an agent, and really want one; my books are getting great reviews, but I’m a marketing doofus and I think I could get wider exposure if I had an agent on my side, holding my hand and cheering me on.

This competition brings in some of the best aspiring authors in the English-speaking world, and I know I don’t have any more talent or chance of being selected than a lot of the unpublished entrants. The fact I’m published and others aren’t, isn’t a measure purely of talent, but also of hard work and persistence. In fact, no matter how awesome I think my manuscript is, I don’t have a ton of hope it will be chosen. That isn’t the real reason I’m entering this contest. I’m entering because, in past years, I’ve made so many great friends in the Pitch Wars feed, and I’d love to make some more. I’m also entering because I’ve had so much going on in my life lately, both good and bad, so I’ve not been doing much querying. Pitch Wars will make me focus on trying to find this book a home.

The book I’m entering this year is entitled True Story. It’s a diverse YA romance. The main character is a seventeen-year-old Native American foster girl with the unusual name of Mike Charley. She isn’t trans; she was named after her grandfather by her bipolar mother, who thought Mike was his reincarnation.

This is an #ownvoices book. I’m not Native (though I have family in the same tribe Mike’s mother was from), but Mike has bipolar disorder with episodes of psychosis, like her mother did…and like I do.

I’ve been hesitant about pitching True Story as an #ownvoices book, though I know it might make some people more curious about it. I only recently “came out” about my neurodiversity, and it has definitely been a mixed bag. I’m lucky that my diversity isn’t visible; most days, I seem like a perfectly normal, if maybe somewhat eccentric, person, so not a lot of people knew about my neurodiversity. Since I opened up about it, I’ve gotten such a wonderful outpouring of support, but I’ve also suffered a lot of negative and hurtful comments.

Bipolar is a condition that comes with many misconceptions. People either think you’re a howling nutjob, or that you’re being attention-seeking: “I get mood swings, too, and you don’t see me crying about it.” I’m not a howling nutjob on most days, nor am I particularly attention-seeking. These stereotypes are hurtful.

When I wrote True Story, it wasn’t my intention to “educate” the world about bipolar disorder. I was just telling a cool story about a wonderful girl. But now that the book is written and edited, and steaming up the windows in its boisterous urge to get on the road, I really do want to find a wide audience for it, to show one insider’s perspective on living with bipolar.

I also think it’s important to have YA novels with bipolar and otherwise neurodiverse main characters. After my first episode of psychosis when I was 15, I was terrified. I thought my brain would completely desert me; that I might lose control of myself and hurt people. That’s what most people think “psychos” are, after all: homicidal maniacs. Most books reflect these misconceptions, and portray psychotic characters as killers or otherwise evil antagonists. At best, characters with psychosis are often complete wastes of space, objects of nothing more than pity and contempt, and are there only to be somehow “saved” by a neurotypical character.

Because I’d swallowed all those stereotypes, it was decades before I had the courage to admit even to a doctor that I’d suffered psychotic episodes. Instead, I got pretty good at managing them myself. I tried to avoid the situations that might trigger them, and I self-medicated. A lot. When I was in my late teens, I discovered that heroin made my brain chill out, and eased my crushing episodes of (sometimes suicidal) depression. It took me years and a trip to prison to kick that habit, but I eventually found healthier ways to deal with my symptoms.

But those ways don’t always work, especially when you’re like me and don’t even try to control your episodes of mania.

I love being manic. My last manic episode started in the summer of 2013. That’s when I first started writing in earnest: I finished seven novels in a year, and another five in the year after that. However, the episode coincided with a huge shift in my marriage dynamics and caused it even more strain. My husband became very insulting about my inability to “grow up and act right”. His behavior felt very abusive to me, which triggered both my bipolar disorder and my PTSD and made my behavior even more erratic. I ended up having a psychotic break last summer (my first one in more than a decade), and a few close brushes with suicide, before the relationship finally ended for good.

My dream with regard to True Story, and my other books (and other authors’ books) with neurodiverse characters, is that people will read them and be less afraid to talk about their own experiences with neurodiversity. I want people with mental illness to know that they aren’t “less” than neurotypical people; they’re not dangerous or creepy, or in any other way unfit to take their rightful place in society. Then maybe they won’t have to go through some of the stuff I’ve gone through.

So I’m standing up (with somewhat trembly knees) and proudly declaring that True Story is an #ownvoices book. I know my admission that I have a serious mental condition might make some agents leery of working with me, but I console myself that they might not be a good match for my work anyway. When I finally do get an agent, that person will see my value, and will believe in me and my writing. They won’t buy into the negative stereotypes about bipolar disorder or PTSD. They’ll know people like me can be productive, professional, intelligent, and easy to work with.

So, that’s why I’m entering Pitch Wars: because I deserve to; because I believe in my books; and because I believe in myself and others like me.

Thank you for reading this. I’d love to hear your comments and get links to your blogs, as well. Like I said, making new friends is one of my main goals in entering Pitch Wars.

Good luck to everyone!

Signing at Inklings Bookstore on September 10!

I’m happy to announce that I’m going to have a signing at Inklings Bookstore in Yakima, Washington on the afternoon of Saturday, September 10th. I also landed an interview on KIMA TV news. I’ll have more info soon, and hopefully more dates! I hope to see you all there.

*RELEASE BLITZ*: Confessions of a Wedding Planner

★★★ PRE-ORDER NOW ★★★



CONFESSIONS OF A WEDDING PLANNER 

by Michelle Jo Quinn

(The Bliss Series Book 1)






★ SYNOPSIS ★



Wedding planner, Veronica Soto-Stewart believes everyone deserves a fairy tale–even her ex-boyfriend. Unable to refuse his request, and with the help of Bliss Events motley crew, she finds herself creating the most magical event for the perfect couple. 

 And not all happy ever afters can be planned…

 Can Levi convince Veronica that her perfect happily ever after is closer than she ever realized?

★★ PURCHASE ★

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★★★ GIVEAWAY ★★★

★★★ MICHELLE JO QUINN ★★★

An unabashed, self-proclaimed foodie, Michelle loves to try new food whenever given the chance.  She loves to travel, dislikes the cold weather and would rather buy paperbacks than shoes.  She enjoys watching foreign films and reading a great book that makes her swoon.

Michelle lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband, two kids and a morkie pup named Scarlett.


★★★ Follow Michelle ★★★

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What I Want for My Birthday: An End to Needless Killings

Every day there are more people shot needlessly by police. Today, the big ones in the news are Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and tomorrow there will unfortunately will likely be others. This needs to stop, and we need to stop feeling powerless against a system that allows and even supports law enforcement officers in perpetrating these killings. I have friends who are in law enforcement or have loved ones who are. I know not all cops would do something like this, but ALL POLICE NEED TO RECOGNIZE THAT THIS IS A HUGE PROBLEM. IT NEEDS TO BE SOLVED. IT CAN BE SOLVED. AND IF IT ISN’T, YOU ARE UNDERMINING YOUR OWN INSTITUTION AND THE RULE OF LAW IN GENERAL. When people start, quite rightly, viewing the police as the perpetrators of violence in their communities, it isn’t going to go well for anyone. The oppressed populations in these communities are trying, almost exclusively, to have their voices heard nonviolently. But at what point does it start feeling like an issue of self-defense?

My birthday is this Sunday. Whether you planned on buying me a present or not, I’d like you to consider making a donation to one of the causes named in this post, or other causes that support the promotion of the welfare of people of color, or neurodiverse people; two populations that suffer extreme and needless violence and persecution by law enforcement and others.

I am also giving away a full manuscript critique and paperback copy of The Other Place over on the #WordsForChange hashtag on Twitter, in exchange for a donation to one of the causes named in Laura Silverman’s post.

Additionally, I will donate 50% of my net proceeds from the sale of The Other Place for the month of July to one or more causes that promote the welfare of people of color or neurodiverse people. If I can afford more, I’ll give more. So, if you were curious about this book, now would be a good time to buy it; you’ll be getting a great book, and supporting a great cause.

I get July’s royalty statement in October, so which causes I support with the proceeds will probably depend on which seem to need money  most at the time, though you can also make your case to me for which one it should be.

Thank you for reading, and for supporting this cause. Now I’m going to get back to writing, so I’m not incapacitated by panic and anger.

#WordsForChange

For those of you (hopefully everyone) who has heard of the Alton Sterling tragedy, as well as the way-too-many other similar incidents, please go to the #WordsForChange hashtag on Twitter. There are some great giveaways happening over there in exchange for donations to causes to help effect change with regard to police mishandling/lack of training/and outright violence against people in our society who have no voice. HERE IS MORE INFO.

This is a cause I feel deeply about, and it’s one of those things that, every time I hear about something like the Alton Sterling tragedy, it sends me into a spiral of panic and rage. I know that neurodiversity is a lot different than being a person of color, and I’m not trying to co-opt the conversation here, but I’ll just say I’ve had a loved one almost shot by police when unarmed, and the political distinction disappears when it’s someone you care about that is being oppressed and abused and having their life threatened by officers that lack the temperament or training to do their jobs correctly.

I’m giving away a FULL MANUSCRIPT CRITIQUE and a PAPERBACK COPY OF THE OTHER PLACE for a $30 donation to one of the causes listed here. All you have to do is provide proof of the donation and either retweet my tweet on the #WordsForChange hashtag, or comment here if you can’t find it. If I get any entries at all, eek, and if I get more than one, I’ll choose by rafflecopter.  Not only is it a great deal, it’s a great cause.

Owning the Label of “Mentally Ill”

I wanted to talk about something that’s been on my mind a lot lately: how we, and those around us, deal with mental health issues, along with the stigma and complications that label brings. It’s a subject I’ve been exploring in my own life, as well as in my book The Other Place (which has a schizophrenic main character, and came out TODAY!!)

Background on me, for those new to my blog: I’m a neurodiverse person. Every time I go into the psych doc, it seems like they diagnose me with a new letter of the alphabet. Pretty soon they’re going to have to make up new letters, just to diagnose me with them. My main diagnoses are PTSD and Bipolar I (or II, depending on whom you ask, but since I sometimes go totes whackadoodle, I’d probably say I).

It’s only recently I’ve discovered that I don’t have to call myself “mentally ill” (or “nutball” or “whackadoodle”)—I can call myself “neurodiverse”. I think that term fits a lot better, and feels better. Illness is bad, but diversity is something we should be proud of.

The problem is that we as a society don’t typically see neurodiversity in the same light as we see other types of diversity. Neurodiversity is something to be hidden or cured. It’s something to “rise above” and “be successful in spite of” (indeed, some people still see racial, cultural, religious and sexual diversity in the same light, but we should try our hardest to forget those sorts of people, at least for a few blissful moments before Trump opens his mouth again). And sure, there are certain symptoms that go along with being a neurodiverse person that most of us in that category do want some help dealing with or rising above. But, mostly, the impetus should be on society to realize that neurodiverse people aren’t going to change, and shouldn’t have to change.

I’ve spent a lot of my life denying and trying to escape my diagnoses, along with the stigma, danger, and (often) horrible and ineffective treatments that come with them. It’s only recently I’ve realized that there isn’t really something “wrong” with me, and that perhaps it’s society that needs to change in some ways, and not me.

Society has a long way to go with regard to understanding mental illness. Having certain diagnoses on your record can prevent you from getting certain jobs (or any jobs, if you’re open about it like I am online, because employers tend to stalk you before hiring). A record of mental illness can cause you trouble with the law, can affect the quality of your medical treatment even for conditions unrelated to mental health, and a bunch of other things.

Letting myself be diagnosed didn’t really seem worthwhile, because, let’s face it: a lot of treatments for mental health conditions aren’t very effective, and not much progress has been made in making them so in the last few decades. A lot of the treatments don’t make me feel better; sometimes they actually make me feel worse, at least in the short-term, and/or can have long-term negative health effects. It’s always a trade-off, and it sometimes doesn’t seem like a net benefit. So, every time a doctor has tried to slap a label on me, shower me with shitty pills, or put me in therapy, I’ve gone to another doctor or just quit treatment altogether.

I recently had a pretty big breakdown, though, so I’m back in treatment again. I’m struggling to make it work this time, for a couple big reasons. One is that I’ve finally gotten to the point where I can see what effect my mental health was having on my life, and that perhaps I could do better if I took care of myself. Another reason is that I’m ready to accept my diagnoses, and deal with all the fallout that happens from owning the label of “mentally ill”.

What made me ready to own the label was meeting my friend Phoenix, who has schizophrenia. He is hands-down one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and interesting people I’ve ever met. If he can be so incredibly awesome, then I figured maybe I wasn’t so bad, either. Maybe it is society that has the problem, and not us.

I’m also ready to accept the label of “mentally ill” out of a sense of obligation. I can pass for reasonably sane on good days. I can speak fairly coherently about my experiences with psychosis and mental illness in general. But Phoenix, as awesome as he is, doesn’t have much of a voice in society at large. I understand the turn of his mind, but a lot of people just think he’s a ranting lunatic and don’t stick around to find out he’s not. They’re angered or frightened by his behavior. They think he’s on drugs. They abuse, exploit, and ignore him. He’s been beaten into a coma for trying to be friendly (seriously), and has been arrested for standing in his own yard yelling about cow-worshiping vegans (long story). He was almost shot by police during a psychotic break, even though he was unarmed. And he and I have gotten kicked out of so many places just for being unobtrusively weird.

So, I feel the need to speak up and be proud, not just for myself, but for him, and for people like us everywhere.

It’s not easy to be proud a lot of the time, though. Having a mental health diagnosis hits you in two ways: it changes how you look at yourself, and it changes how society sees you. Those two things can also affect each other, so it becomes sort of a feedback loop.

Getting the correct diagnosis can help you to understand yourself better, and why you feel and react in certain ways. That can lift some of your heavy burden of guilt, shame, and self-recrimination, so that you can go about changing or dealing with those behaviors in a more constructive way. Having a diagnosis can also help those close to you recognize your behaviors for what they are, and respond to them in a healthier and more appropriate manner.

However, a diagnosis can also bring a new level of shame, and cause a different kind of inappropriate and unhealthy backlash from society.

People are more open about their mental health problems now than they were in the past, so you can find some very supportive friends if you start talking about your experiences. You also get a lot of pity, though. Pity isn’t what most people are looking for when they talk about their mental problems: they’re looking for understanding, for a way that they can fit into society and be accepted.

Pity, however, is better than the fear, anger, or condescension a lot of people display if you talk about your diagnosis.

Like I said before, I usually pass for reasonably sane. Sometimes, though, I don’t. I don’t usually realize it when it’s happening, but I behave pretty oddly sometimes. I’ve lost friends and loved ones because of it. I’ve been told to “just stop acting that way”, to “get over myself”, and to “grow up.” I’ve been told I’m attention-seeking. I’ve had people say, “Everyone’s crazy, but most of us don’t have to put it on full display.”

Here’s my answer to that: everyone is an ignorant dickhole in some ways, but most of us try not to put it on full display.

Sanity is definitely a spectrum. I have a pretty wide view of sanity, because pretty much everyone has some pretty kooky habits, paranoias, anxieties and beliefs. But I have intimate experience with that ethereal border over which be mental dragons; the line which, once crossed, puts you in the territory of bona-fide insane. I’ve been there, and I’ve witnessed others in that place. It’s not a place most of us choose to go. It can be terrifying, frightening, embarrassing and dangerous, not just because psychotic people are sometimes apt to hurt themselves, but because others tend to misunderstand us, take us for dangerous, and hurt us because of it. I’m lucky I get to spend the majority of my time on the sane side of that line. Others aren’t so lucky.

Most of us probably can agree that the lunatic ranting on the street corner didn’t get that way by poor life choices, right? Unfortunately, a lot of people don’t see it that way. People really do say things like, “Get a job, you lousy bum!” Seriously. I’ve seen it.

But for people like me, who maybe are a little bit there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I with regard to becoming a ranting hobo on the street corner, but probably won’t go there because we’re more stable and functional, it’s more difficult to sort out what part of our behavior is intentional on some level and can be changed, and what part is just who we are. It’s even difficult for me to sort out, with regard to my own behavior. So when people get frustrated or angry with me for doing certain things, and give me the “straighten up and fly right/get a job you lousy bum”-type lecture, it really hits home.

I’ve spent a lot of time struggling with myself and beating up on myself for being certain ways. I end up walking this tightrope; on one side is things about myself that I can’t change, and just need to learn how to deal with; and on the other side is behavior that I could change, and would be copping out if I blamed it on my mental health issues. Everyone else has their own opinions about which side of that tightrope certain behaviors fall, which makes it even harder to sort out for myself.

And then there’s the added stigma that a lot of people think I’m being attention-seeking or trying to be a “special snowflake” for even talking about these issues publicly. Since I’ve seen even POC and other diverse individuals get that brand of bullshit, though, I try not to let it bug me too much. I’m talking about these issues for the same reasons any diverse person talks about the issues related to their diversity: to understand it myself and to garner more understanding from others, so that someday maybe people like me will have a comfortable place in society where we don’t suffer discrimination, abuse, violence, and misunderstanding.

I hope that by writing these blog posts and books like The Other Place, I make some headway in that regard.

RELEASE DAY FOR THE OTHER PLACE !

Today is release day for my magical realism novel, The Other Place! This is book two in the series, but it can be read as a standalone. It is the story of Justin, a young man with schizophrenia, who is trying to make it as an artist, find love, and find his place in the world. Basically, it’s a sort of coming-of-age story, but with a very unique character and more action than those sorts of books usually have. It’s not a dark book at all; it’s very different from The  Hustle, though you do get to read about the further adventures of Arty and Liria.

The Other Place is based on my own experiences with psychosis, as well as the things I’ve witnessed and experienced while hanging out with my friend Phoenix, who has schizophrenia.

People with psychosis can live beautiful lives, but they deal with a great deal of discrimination, misunderstanding, and outright abuse by police and the general public.

I hope you check it out and enjoy it!

Surviving, and Writing About, Abuse

I’ve participated in a lot of discussions, both online and in the real world, about what makes people stay in abusive relationships. The answers people come up with are generally along the lines of, “They’re insecure.” Or, “They just don’t know anything different.” And, “They don’t see any way out.”

I have been in abusive relationships, and I’ll tell you what I hear when people give the answers above: “It’s your fault. You were with abusers, and stayed with them, because you’re defective: weak, ignorant, and stupid.”

I’m not saying there isn’t a grain of truth in the fact that people living in abuse are insecure, sometimes lacking in objectivity with regard to their situation, and that they might have a hard time taking whatever steps they need to in order to leave their home and family and start a new life. Do you know who else fits that description? Pretty much everyone else on the fucking planet.

Unfortunately, more than a few fiction authors portray abused women (the abused character is almost always a woman, though that isn’t always the case in real life) as creatures we should both pity and cheer on as they inevitably overcome all their difficulties and reinvent themselves as strong, confident individuals.

Conversely, some readers of my novel The Hustle have expressed frustration with the main character, Liria, who goes through a string of ill-advised and abusive relationships (will she do better in The Other Place? I’m not telling[image error] ). “I just don’t understand why Liria keeps getting involved with people who treat her so badly,” some people say. “It’s like she doesn’t want a better life.”

That’s another way of saying it’s the abused person’s fault for being abused. And yes, I know it is upon each and every one of us to take control of our lives and try to be the best we can be. However, suffering people’s ignorant judgment doesn’t help anyone. Nor, truly, does pity, because pity doesn’t really equal understanding…though it’s definitely better than sneering judgment.

When I was a teenager, I was in a relationship that was physically, emotionally, and sexually abusive. After that, I was in a couple relationships that maybe weren’t exactly healthy, but were marred to a greater extent by addiction than abuse. Then, I met my current (ish) husband.

My husband is a Ph.D. professor of biophysics; a hard-working, incredibly intelligent guy who comes off in company as perhaps a little odd, but sweet and quiet and nerdy. I, on the other hand, have only an undergraduate degree and a history of incarceration and heroin addiction. That stuff was long time ago, but still: I felt sort of like I’d hit the jackpot when I landed him; not just because of his education and the fact he didn’t do needle drugs, either, but because he was unfailingly kind to me, never so much as looked at another woman, and was always reliable and safe. He had his frustrating weirdnesses, sure, but doesn’t everyone?

Then we moved to California, and his frustrating weirdnesses turned against me. I’d quit my job and started writing when we moved—we didn’t need the money, and we’d discussed my being a stay-at-home mom when he got a tenure-track job. But, for reasons I won’t go into again here, he ended up not liking this situation. He accused me of lying around all day and writing my silly stories. He called me selfish, lazy, and immature, and said I didn’t have the guts to leave him because I didn’t want to get a job and support myself. Pretty mean stuff, right? But think about it: if you were lucky enough to get to stay home and write all day (and, you know, clean the house and cook and garden and all that), you might feel a little guilty about it, right? That’s pretty normal among others I’ve spoken to who are stay-at-home. So, when my husband said that stuff, I didn’t really think it was abuse: I thought he had a point. I mean, it pissed me off and hurt me, sure, but this was a man I loved and had been married to awhile. He had never been like this before. I thought he’d get over it. I even tried to get a job to make him happy, because sometimes doing stuff to make your spouse happy is part of marriage. But we’d moved to the worst economy in the known universe so I didn’t get a single call back.

Some friends I cried to about this stuff told me he was being abusive. But I’d suffered real abuse, I thought, and it hadn’t really been the same.

Other people thought I was overreacting. After all, my husband was the big fancy doctor and I was just some chick with a sordid past who thought she was a writer. All you writers out there probably know what it’s like to feel like a fraud and like you suck, especially when those rejections are rolling in.

Anyway, my husband moved on to saying he had lost all respect for me and was done with me. He told me he wasn’t interested in having sex with me ever again, and told me to get the fuck out of the house on various occasions.

Now, you think, any self-respecting woman would have packed up and got the fuck out of the house. And I actually did, many times. But I would always come back. I loved him, and I was worried about him. His behavior seemed erratic, and I was concerned for his mental health. I told him to go to a psychiatrist, which he did do. And we went to marriage counseling. I still had hopes things would get better. And besides, I was a little selfish and immature: I just wanted to stay home and write, and I wouldn’t get to do much of that if I left to be a single mom. Also, you know, destroying a household and uprooting your kid isn’t as easy as it sounds, under any circumstances.

My husband didn’t get better. He got worse, and I started getting smashed-ass drunk several times a week and hanging out with another man. I can forgive myself for this a little bit now, because I was truly miserable and going off the deep end, but at the time I felt horrendously guilty and weak for not being able to change my behavior. I knew I had some mental health issues of my own, as well, and that I wasn’t really taking care of myself, which exacerbated my personal problems. So when my husband yelled at me and berated me for all of this stuff too, it again didn’t feel like abuse: it hit home. I felt like it was a lot my fault our relationship had gotten so bad, and like I was the one who needed to change.

And that was true. I needed to change, and I did, eventually: I cut down on drinking, etc., and I took my kid and left. I went home to my parents’, renovated and built onto a cabin on their property, and I lie around here all day writing, editing, gardening, playing with my kid, building cabinets and making homemade wine. I don’t know how long this situation will last, but I wanted to still live my life on my own terms for as long as I could. I didn’t want my husband to win, and force me into a miserable life that I don’t want.

Now, a lot of you who are still reading this (if even a single person has stuck around) might say that I stayed in my abusive relationships because I was insecure, because I didn’t know any better having been in abusive relationships before, and that I didn’t see a way out (at least that allowed me to live the way I want). You’d be right, in a way. But what you might be wrong about is the fact that you would never act that way in my situation. Whenever I hear someone say they’ll never be with anyone who doesn’t treat them like a princess/prince, I usually roll my eyes inwardly. Because there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m just a human being who has made decisions that made sense at the time. I’ve done the best I can do with what I’m given. I don’t always do the right thing, but if you think you always do the right thing there might be something wrong with you.

Anyone who has been lucky enough not to experience abuse is just that: lucky. They weren’t subjected to it at a young and impressionable age, and they didn’t get sucked into it slowly and insidiously like I did later, or any of the other things that can lead people into abusive relationships. Because I didn’t stay with my husband because I’m weak or dumb or ignorant: I stayed with him because I loved him, and I didn’t want to give up our life together. The same as people in healthier relationships.

What we need to do, both in life and in fiction, is see abused people as human beings, not as objects of pity and contempt.

Find The Hustle, my book that deals with abuse, here.

The Other Place is Available for Preorder!

After a long and daunting struggle, release day for The Other Place is almost here. You can preorder the book in either Kindle or paperback format, and read the story of Justin, a young man with schizophrenia trying to find his place in the world.

It’s not easy being a person like Justin, but I think you’ll find a lot of beauty and wisdom in his life, and in the way his mind works.

I hope you read and enjoy this book.

Kindle Preorder

Paperback Preorder