The Virus Diaries: Sanity
There are two major mental challenges when it comes to staying in one’s home. In no particular order they are:
1) Spending time with other people.
2) Not spending time with other people.
Today is all about my advice on staying sane! And yes I’m aware of the irony of a mentally ill person telling others how to chill.
My first recommendation is to recognise that all of this is really, really hard. Different people will struggle with different aspects, and will cope (or not cope) in different ways. Some people will cope really well, but don’t let that make you feel bad. They definitely suck at other things which aren’t relevant right now.
If being with your immediate family (or housemates) 24/7 is hard for you to deal with, I recommend being honest (ideally before you snap and scream your truth at people) and figuring out a way to get some space. Camping in the yard? Going nocturnal (if your housemates are diurnal)? Trading people with one other household? Getting a TV for your room so you never have to share the remote? Personally I’m really enjoying having Chris sleep elsewhere (hello darling), because it’s super annoying that he falls asleep more or less instantly every night while I have nightmares, toss and turn due to muscle pain, etc.
If being out of contact with your social circle is the worst part for you, then look into some of the creative ways people are connecting at the moment: Zoom is very popular, also Skype, twitter, and facebook. Also people sometimes sing together from their balconies, or make a giant outside circle (6 feet apart) to chat of an evening. Or you could actually talk on the phone.
And of course you may be one of those lucky ones who suffers from both #1 and #2 above. Good luck to you.
I’ve had a few very lonely times in my life, and I have a pretty good skill set for this kind of thing. The most notable ‘lonely time’ was when I was eighteen. I lived in Indonesia with Indonesians for six months, and no one spoke English so I didn’t truly ‘talk’ to people for all that time. Before that journey I was good at Indonesian in the sense that I had an A+ in Year 10 Indonesian classes. By the end I was more or less fluent.
That was the second time I’d been to Indonesia—the first was a fortnight as a blonde-streaked and adorably pimply sixteen year-old (with a group of other young and young-ish people). For your amusement, I dug up this Real Physical Photo of me being utterly distracted by a baby animal (I haven’t changed much when it comes to cute animals):
Pretty sure that bracelet spells “Jesus”. Not much is changed there either (nowadays I have a tattoo of a cross, and I still want to make the world better).
I think I had one phone call with my family during my six-month visit to Indonesia. I didn’t have a mobile, and the place where I stayed had a single landline that was rarely used. This was in the distant time of the year 2000. There was one TV at the place I was staying which was certainly not for my use. There was no Netflix. No social media. No internet (except internet cafes, which I visited once a week). I had a discman (a tiny battery-powered CD player) and a few CDs, which was all the music I had, and all the technology too. During that time I wrote my first full-length book about my experience. In the first draft it was over 200,000 words… all of them written freehand.
In case it wasn’t obvious, writing is my #1 coping method. Even if you’re not a writer, journalling (or even blogging) can be really helpful to process life, especially a big experience like isolation or quarantine. I do genuinely recommend you try it. Which brings me to my first idea of ways to cope:
1. Do something. Whether it’s your job, journalling, writing a novel, gardening, or whatever, try not to slide into the utter nothingness of pure unfettered laziness for too long (it gets old after about three days, and it can be hard to snap out of it). Wear pants. Shower. Eat breakfast at breakfast time. Cook proper food and clean the kitchen every night. A lot of people are celebrating “Formal Fridays” where they dress up for the day and post photos online.
2. Stop. Take at least one day a week off, whatever that means for you. Enjoy that lazy Sunday vibe, stay in your PJs all day, eat nothing but cereal, do no schoolwork, whatever. Apart from anything else, this gives you something to look forward to.
3. Do healthy stuff. Eat well (especially fruit and vegies, or things will not go well in your bathroom), and figure out a way to exercise (walking, running up and down stairs, playing soccer with the kids, whatever). Make yourself get up at a certain time each day (with one ‘sleep in’ day a week because sleeping in is awesome). Get some sunshine if you possibly can (I’m assuming you at least have a balcony). It really helps your body feel like you’ve done something and can therefore sleep at night.
4. Be polite no matter what. Small annoyances built up fast, whether it’s the noisy way your kid eats or societally institutionalised sexism (exemplified by your husband dropping his dirty socks on the floor). Blame coronavirus, not each other. Save your big fights for a time when you’re allowed to go and stay at a friend’s house if you need to cool down. The most important thing is not to burn any bridges with the people you love. So be nice. Seriously. Hating the sight of your family is a side effect of home isolation, not a sign it’s time for a divorce.
5. Pick your goals wisely, and change course as required.
Even under the heading of ‘writing’ I have a lot of very different things I’m working on:
a) Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. A super exciting fun shiny new book… which is currently not coming together, so I’ve moved it to the back burner for now.
b) The Floating City. A climate change/scifi book that has given me a huge amount of grief but is ever so close to finished. I’m currently going through the sensitivity readers’ comments (usually small facts or phrases so not hard to change) and then I’ll be editing just the ending. But I’m forcing myself to go slow because I often rush endings and I don’t want to do it for this book.
c) Flight. Another really fun book, which needs an edit and a couple more chapters (around 20,000 words). I was going to enter it in a contest last year but I got the date wrong and as a result it wasn’t ready in time. So I’m aiming for this year instead. I have had a lot of excellent feedback from about 5 different places, so I need to go back and find it all, then deal with it. A lot of it is major criticism that will require big rewrites… but the book itself is really good and really fun, so that will be enjoyable-although-difficult when I get to it.
d) Blogging. It’s taking a lot of my mental space at the moment, which is good because I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile (and it’s bad because the rest of my writing is suffering). And it’s free therapy. And technically work, since writers are meant to be bloggers too these days. So I do feel kinda righteous. At the same time, I’m writing this on Saturday to post Sunday so I can take Sunday ‘off’ blogging.
I haven’t got around to doing any schoolwork with the kids today, which is fine. It’s Saturday. I was planning to at least do a fun activity with them, but so what? I didn’t tell them, so they’re not disappointed. The great thing about setting goals for myself is I can let myself off the hook as needed.
6. Failure is always an option. If you end up in a fetid pile of dirty washing, buck naked and screaming at your two year-old that you want a divorce… that’s okay. It might look and feel like the end of the world, but when things are normal again you’ll go back to normal too. If you fail in your goals, wallow for a day, think about whether your goals need to be altered, and then start fresh.
7. Remember humans are amazingly adaptable, even you. Your first ten minutes of homeschooling may make you want to give up on humanity altogether, but in the usual pattern of good and bad days and good and bad moments, you’ll get better at doing this. So don’t extrapolate the pain of that ten minutes into the weeks or months of isolation ahead. Change hurts, but you’ll settle sooner or later into some kind of routine and it won’t hurt this much all the time. I promise.
8. Do fun stuff. Bake stuff you’ve always wanted to try, or watch that series everyone was talking about three years ago. Get day drunk in your living room. Whatever works for you (and doesn’t cause long-term harm).
9. Humour. There are a bazillion and one jokes and songs about the coronavirus now. Dive in and laugh at all of this nonsense.
10. Whatever works. The above list is aimed at healthy people. Those with health conditions that flare up randomly will need to adjust day by day and often hour by hour. But that was always true. And if wearing PJs every day works for you, go for it!
It might not look like it, but this is a picture of TJ. He asked me to take it so… well, there it is.
Resource of the day:
Someone else’s take on how to work from home.
Stuffed Capsicum (serves two, or one hungry person):
1. Slice a capsicum in half and scoop out the seeds and ribs so it makes two little bowls. Roast them facing down for ten minutes at 200 degrees celcius.
2. Mix a small amount of cooked rice with crushed nuts (you can smash them to bits yourself with a potato masher), chopped tomatoes, basil, garlic and a teaspoon or so of either cream, butter or oil. You can also put in tuna, cooked chicken pieces, tofu, or almost anything.
3. Flip over the slightly-cooked capsicum halves and fill with the mixture. Cook another 5-10 minutes, top with grated cheese, and eat.
Recommended Donation of the Day:
Support a musician on Kickstarter. Musicians are losing gigs and money at a really high rate, and music is one of the things that makes life better during isolation.
Recommended personal action of the day:
Carefully (because you don’t want to wet or break them) clean your TV remotes.
Recommended hoarding item of the day:
Buy another TV. Unless you already have one TV per person in your house, this will help you stay sane.
* * *
For those following along with the Castle Project, one of the vacant lots I had my eye on (unfortunately it’s impossible to track the owner) is now under construction. I reached out via the email on the builder’s notice, but no joy there I think.
I need to start applying for grants but I… haven’t yet. The tabs are open, however. Maybe this week.
The Virus Diaries: Kids
I just had someone call me for a medical survey and I was WAY too excited to talk to someone outside of my immediately family. It’s been =almost= six days.
Whatever “it” is, I’m losing it.
Unimpressed cat is unimpressed.
I managed to get both kids outside for a bit today (TJ is a ball of energy at all times; Louisette… takes after me). And we’ve all showered, and the kids have both done some book learnin’. I am winning at life, and I’ve survived a whole week of home schooling.
Proof Louisette went outside today:
Louisette also had stomach cramps today, which means our family is 4 out of 4 for having SOME kind of illness (probably a very minor gastro episode). So the question of, “Should I keep my kids home from school?” is moot for us, because everyone everywhere agrees that if your kid is sick at all they should be home.
But here’s some general advice from five experts, most of whom reckon schools should stay open and non-sick kids should stay at school (for the moment; things can change in an instant of course).
I find it absolutely astonishing that kids are not (currently) identified as the major disease vectors that they usually are. It goes against everything I know about children, hygiene, and infectious diseases. Noting for the record that I am NOT an immunologist and so you shouldn’t listen to me, allow me to give you an extremely fresh example…
TJ had a bath today. When it was time to get out, I did what I always do, and asked him to squeeze out his facewasher and give it to me so I could put it straight into the washing machine. He fished it out, started squeezing it… and then shifted his head underneath the dripping cloth so he could drink his own bath water.
It was like my very own real-life reenactment of this infamous scene from “Man Versus Wild”:
Not so cute now, is he?
Ah, who am I kidding? He’s still cute as pie.
Extremely gross pie.
When it comes to the question of, “Should I keep my kids home from school?” the answer is YES if your kids are the tiniest bit sick with anything.
(You’re probably aware that a lot of people have COVID-19 and are infectious without having any symptoms at all. Fun! And that kids tend to have much milder experiences with this virus than adults, which is good in the sense that no-one wants kids to die. Ever.)
Resource of the day:
Ten questions to ask yourself when considering keeping healthy kids at home.
1. If my kids are home, is there someone who can stay home with them, who is NOT over 60 years of age or otherwise immunocompromised?
My answer: Sorta. I’m immunocompromised but I’m also their Mum. If I wasn’t writing this blog or chronically ill I’d even be able to keep up with my work (with a certain amount of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight”-related disruption).
2. Does keeping my kids home cause an essential worker (eg a health or store worker) to be unavailable?
My answer: Nah; we’re good.
3. Will my children fall behind at school if I keep them home?
My answer: Yes, a bit. But not as much as most since they’re both enthusiastic learners and Chris and I both have teaching experience. Primary kids require more input from parents while older kids are more likely to take time off school as a chance to go and see friends (which is clearly even worse than having them at school) but can also, theoretically, do homework to keep up. I think two hours a day is plenty of time for high schoolers to keep up with schoolwork. If your kid definitely can’t do school work for two hours a day at home (or can’t be trusted to stay at home), that’s going to be tricky.
4. Are my kids or any other members of the household at higher risk?
My answer: Yes, me.
5. Will my children suffer from the social isolation?
My answer: Mine barely saw people in the Christmas school holidays, so they’ll be absolutely fine.
6. Can I keep this up, possibly for months?
My answer: Looks like we’re going to find out 
7. Do I want to take a conservative approach while evidence is not 100% clear?
My answer: Yes. Although it does look like the evidence so far suggests kids are way less dangerous than usual germ-wise.
8. Is isolation going to risk the mental health or harmony of my family?
My answer: Yes, a bit, but we’re all pretty good at coping with this sort of thing (introversion helps, plus experience with my chronic illness, plus all of us are screen addicted in a big way).
9. Can the parents still work and/or earn money?
My answer: We’ll take a hit, but fundamentally yes.
10. What if the schools are all shut down completely and your isolation period is longer than you would have chosen?
My answer: At least I wouldn’t feel like this was all an over-reaction on my part. Plus we’d have official school resources to work with. In any case, if this goes on for months we’ll cope—one way or another.
Bonus kittypic.
Recommended donation of the day: Who do you know who is a single parent? They often have less secure working arrangements as well, so check they have food and toilet paper and (if you’re up to it) offer to mind their kids for X number of days (making it clear if you are/are not able to mind sick kids).
Recommended personal action of the day: Pick one area (cleaning the bathroom, washing bedlinen, washing towels, cleaning doorknobs) that you probably don’t do quite as often as you should, and choose what your new normal will be. Something sane and manageable eg I theoretically wash our bathrooms every week (that’s what I did before I got sick) but it’s more like twice a year in reality these days. Official guidelines are to wash the bathroom every time someone uses it (definitely not gonna happen—apart from anything else, us diabetics pee about 20 times a day), so I’m going to make the effort to clean the bathrooms once a week. But no more than that, or I’ll be overwhelmed and definitely fail.
Recommended hoarding item of the day: Go and see your dentist while you can. (Lockdown guidelines will allow essential visits but not checkups.)
The Virus Diaries: CoroNaNo?
The greatest excitement yesterday was five year-old TJ doing a little bit of reading. More on that later.
Since Chris went to work yesterday, he also went shopping. We’re still in that grey area of prepping for full-blown isolation and rather half-arsing it in the meantime.
The ennui of staying at home has already got to me a little, and I also had the classic school-holiday moment of getting to about 3pm yesterday and just wanting to shut down. Those who are chronically ill will be familiar with the sensation of running low on spoons (you can read about Spoon Theory if you like). I DID get both kids to shower and do some schoolwork, plus of course playing the wii with TJ (Louisette watches TV in her room while drawing, and TJ plays the wii. This is our life now—but while Louisette barely needs anything from me, TJ really wants me to play WITH him. All day, every day). So technically I was A Good Mum (TM) yesterday by my very limited standards, but… tired out, and all too aware of how little I actually did.
I am also “at work” technically (I’ve been working from home for years), but I got almost no writing done this week. (Okay, yes, I wrote a LOT here on the blog, which definitely counts even though it doesn’t get me any money.)
Sunday I was barely functional brain-wise, so decided to call it a ‘Sabbath’ (I try to take one day off per week) and not feel bad.
Monday I didn’t write anything, but I did some outlining.
Tuesday I felt… wrong… about my outline. I went and looked at a different chapter 1 that I wrote and, sure enough, it had a lot more in it. So we’ve established that my outline needs more work. A lot more.
Today is Wednesday.
This is Zipper snuggling up to TJ in bed. They are adorable. In Zipper’s early days, TJ tried to feed Zipper crackers and to get her to play with his toys. She is naturally cautious of the noisy and fast-moving TJ but she loves him and trusts his gentleness… especially if he’s unconscious.
Anyway.
Today was meant to be about suggesting at-home projects for people to do, specifically writing a novel. (The title is a reference to NaNoWriMo aka ‘National Novel Writing Month’, in which people around the world attempt to write the first draft of the first 50,000 words of a book in a month.)
I still do recommend that. Is there something around your house you’ve always meant to fix/paint/assemble/disassemble/weed/plant/etc? Now (or soon) is your moment!
Of course that includes writing a novel. Or a short story. Or a poem.
I’ve always been extremely self-motivated and (with the exception of what I eat) self-disciplined. I wrote about 15 novels/a million words (yes I literally lost count) before I was first published. (That first book was my Australian fantasy steampunk novel, Heart of Brass, which you can buy online and I’ll sign and send it to you. It’s now part of a completed and published trilogy. I can send the whole thing to you, in fact, or you can get it at Amazon or your local bookshop.)
It looks like today will be a day of thinking about how bad the outline of the book is until something occurs to me that makes it better. To be honest, I think I tend to shove too much plot into a small space, so what I need is to let my character slow down and have lots of little bumps along the way to the main goal.
Yes, that’s the solution. I just need to let it bubble for a bit so I think of some “little bumps” that show character and the environment of the story.
The story is called “Dr Jekyll and Mr Holmes”. It’s an interactive novel, so the reader will choose the personality and strengths of both Dr Jekyll and Mr/Ms Hyde. Hyde can be evil or not, as the reader chooses. Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler will both appear as romantic options, and there is a murderer on the loose in Victorian London. . .
It’s set in the same magical steampunk universe as all my steampunk tales (there’s a semi-coherent list here that I keep fairly up to date). It’s not my first time using actual historical characters. The above picture is Miss Lavevski, an absolutely real, famous, and accomplished equestrian of the Victorian era who performed in a circus. Isn’t she spectacular? She appears in my longest interactive steampunk tale, Choices That Matter: And Their Souls Were Eaten. You can get it for your device via iOS or Google Play. There are three stories in the app, and I’m deeply involved in all three. The app has over 1.5 million downloads. (Which is seriously impressive, I gotta say.)
* * *
Let’s talk grocery stores and empty shelves. As you know, I’m immunocompromised, self-isolating, and extremely limited in what I eat.
A day of (relatively) “safe” eating for me would look like this:
Breakfast:
Special K and full cream lactose free milk and two squares of chocolate. (I can eat most other cereals but Special K is probably the healthiest thing I regularly eat. The chocolate gets me out of bed and also keeps me regular.)
Morning Tea: Milo.
Lunch: Brie sandwich on white bread (I usually dither between the less-safe alternatives of mi goreng with egg and/or cheese (that’s what I had today), a sandwich with cheese and avocado/beetroot—I don’t like cheese on its own but avocado and beetroot are both equal parts delicious and dangerous due to FODMAPS—or peanut butter and jam—both of which are not safe foods for me as nuts contain salicylates and jam contains fruit).
Afternoon Tea: Milo + cheese and crackers + lollies/chocolate.
Dinner: Roasted Lamb/Chicken and potatoes (safer without gravy or any kind of sauce) or frozen fish and chips. Usually some sweet potato and/or carrots. Zucchini if I’m being extremely impressive (it’s my safest green vegetable). The maple-marinated salmon is pretty good, although I do react a little to peas. I can also have tuna mornay fairly safely.
Supper: Milo and popcorn and lollies (popcorn is mildly unsafe digestively speaking but I figure it’s healthier than more chocolate).
So I basically live on Special K, cheese (which has some lactose but way less than milk), lactose free full cream milk, chocolate, lollies, milo, lamb (chicken just grosses me out for some reason, and so does fish—I can handle each type about once a week but I could easily eat lamb every day), and potatoes.
I have 2-3 weeks’ worth of most things, but only a weeks’ worth of lactose free full cream milk. Chevelle looked for it on Sunday and Chris looked for it yesterday with no luck.
I started stocking up on groceries when there was still toilet paper in the shops, and since Chris was able to find some frozen fish yesterday Louisette will be fine for quite a while. But yes, I’m very anxious about the possibility of running out of my small list of safe foods. So am I, a self-isolating diabetic & chronically ill mother of two, deserving of more milk? Or am I, a fat person who barely even tries to control her blood sugar, takes money from healthy taxpayers, and isn’t able to provide adequate long-term care for her kids, undeserving?
Everyone wants to keep their family safe, and to give them all their usual foods and supplies. I get that. Don’t give someone a death glare just because they’re buying the last pack of toilet paper. They might need it, or they might be getting it for someone who does.
Let’s be clear though: Anyone who has more than 6 weeks’ worth of stuff stocked up and no plans to share it is a terrible person (or, if this is your normal way of living and you had the food before the crisis, a bit of a genius really). That’s where I draw the line.
Any person with a young and healthy household who has recently hoarded more than 2 weeks’ worth of essentials (toilet paper, cleaning products, meat, etc) is also someone who had better be giving that stuff away (or selling it at the normal retail price) to those who need it more, starting now.
Any person who is selling anything essential (any kind of food, hygiene, or cleaning item) for inflated prices needs to stop now and sell them for a normal price. Even twice normal price is okay for a lot of things. I understand that some people make a living selling stuff online, or that selling stuff might be their only source of income at the moment due to casual workers not having work. But this is not a good time to be making a killing. Because people are literally dying, and many many more are suffering in less dramatic ways.
My current toilet paper supply is enough for 1-2 weeks, although there’s still a lot of diarrhea in the house so things could get tricky soon.
My mum has a cold (“OR IS IT MORE???” says the internet) and is now self-isolating. She’s going to finish painting the copper signs for me, so that’s handy!
Chris will be working from home tomorrow, and probably Friday. His work, part of the public service, is doing a clever thing where half the centre works from home each day. Why is that clever (I hear you ask) when that means everyone is still exposed to the total amount of germs at the centre? It’s clever because it’s a great step along the way to having everyone stay home. They will find and figure out a LOT of bugs (the computer kind) by doing this, and hopefully when the time comes for everyone to work from home they will be ready.
I rather hope that when the coronavirus is a memory, a LOT more people, including Chris, will be able to work from home. Chris’ travelling time is over 2 hours a day, over 10 hours a week! He doesn’t mind it but I sure do, especially when it’s 5:00 and there’s still an hour and a half until Daddy gets home, and everyone is hungry and cranky and tired (especially me).
I’ll talk some other time about my predictions for how the world will change after this. I think the environment will benefit a LOT as we realise how flexible our entire society can be when we actually try to make big changes. And… I don’t want to celebrate any individual person’s sickness or death (even though many politicians cause widespread suffering including sickness and even death so the world is empirically improved if they are not in it)… but a lot of people who refuse to believe scientists (in this case immunologists) are going to die. And hopefully those heroic scientists who have been shouting about climate change for decades will be listened to at last.
Resource of the day:
Do you have a Kindy kid staying home? I wrote a nice and easy home-schooling guide for parents of Kindergarten kids that takes as little as ten minutes a day, and is designed for non-teachers. I’ll probably do one for the rest of Primary School pretty soon.
Recommended donation of the day:
Do you know someone in the medical profession? Ask them what you can do to help while they’re under immense stress (and about to face more). Are you able to mind their kids if the kids are sent home from school (even if it’s just one day, or one day a week)? Can you deliver food/toilet paper care packages so they don’t have to deal with shops AND hospital life? These are the kinds of actions that could literally save lives.
Recommended personal action of the day: If it’s sunny, hang all your cushions and doonas and other often-touched but not machine washable items out in the sun for the day. It’s a brilliant free disinfectant.
Recommended hoarding item of the day:
What do you require in order to do that project you’ve been putting off? Notebooks and sweet stationary to plan your novel? Paint for your art (or your gutters)? Tools? Nails? Now is your moment to prepare for that project.
Editing a ChoiceScript Game
The interactive fiction community is a wonderful, welcoming space. It is common practice to share a book (aka a game) with other people before officially publishing it. Those first readers spot all manner of errors and are extremely generous and helpful.
But with THE FLOATING CITY, I needed a Sensitivity Reader to check I wasn’t unwittingly writing harmful tropes into my characters who are disabled. So that meant hiring someone from outside the community. I wrote this quick and dirty guide to coping with the weird-looking files that magically turn into shiny happy games… because if you’re SERIOUS about editing, you need to go ‘backstage’ and read every single word.
Without further ado….
The income of the full-time author
Many years ago, I learned that the average full-time writer in Australia earns $12,000 per year (that is, considerably less than minimum wage).
Here’s what I earned over the last three years:
$20,000.
-$10,000.
$5000.
Soooo…. this year was better than last year. Yay?
The main reason I lost so much money last financial year was that I accidentally started a small business—”Murder in the Mail” and “Magic in the Mail”. Starting a small business is even more expensive than writing for a living—and yes, I’m still very behind financially on those stories (which, in small business terms, is perfectly normal).
Don’t start a small business, kids. (I mean, unless it’s what you really want to do, and you’ve saved up a huge pile of money to invest.)
As you can imagine, all this puts a huge strain on our finances. Which in turn puts a huge stress on my already-teetering mental health. Not to mention physical health (as a relatively minor example, I currently need a CPAP machine to treat my sleep apnea—that’s been on the ‘to-do’ list for about a year so far).
I’m relatively lucky, by writer standards. Weirdly enough, the main reason I’m able to write full time is that I’m not well enough to do anything else (so our finances would suck whether I wrote or not). And I also have a husband who works full-time. It’s a dirty secret that most full-time writers have a spouse who’s paying most of the bills.
The positive side of this is that writing doesn’t have to be expensive. You got a computer? at least one finger? Internet? That’s all you need. (Yes, it’s a good idea to do professional development and networking and so on, but you genuinely don’t need to bother until you’ve written and polished at least one novel, which most people will never do.)
(Yes, writing takes time. If you care about it, you find time. If not, then why fight it? Watch TV instead, or garden, or whatever.)
If you want to write, write. But remember that every dream has a cost.
Guest Post: What doesn’t kill me. . .
Hello and welcome to Karen J Carlisle!
Karen J Carlisle is a writer and illustrator of steampunk, Victorian mysteries and fantasy. She was short-listed in Australian Literature Review’s 2013 Murder/Mystery Short Story Competition. Her first novella, Doctor Jack & Other Tales, was published in 2015 and her short stories have featured in the 2016 Adelaide Fringe exhibition, ‘A Trail of Tales’, and the ‘Where’s Holmes’ and ‘Deadsteam’ anthologies.
Karen lives in Adelaide with her family and the ghost of her ancient Devon Rex cat.
She’s always loved dark chocolate and rarely refuses a cup of tea. http://www.karenjcarlisle.com
Karen is just about to release The Department of Curiosities. Here’s the blurb:
Miss Matilda Meriwether has a secret. Actually, she has several. One of them has shaped her adult life. Another now controls it. Her Majesty Queen Victoria has control of the Empire. She is the Empire, and creator of its secrets. Sir Avery works for The Department of Curiosities – the keepers of secrets – especially if they are useful to the Empire. When Tillie finds herself in the employment of The Department of Curiosities, she realises this is the perfect opportunity to uncover the truth she has been searching for. But the Queen has other plans for her.
The Department of Curiosities is a steampunk tale of adventure, a heroine, mad scientists, traitors and secrets. All for the good of the Empire.
And here’s a guest blog:
What doesn’t kill me…
“Was mich nicht umbringt macht mich stärker.”
“That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.”
-Friedrich Nietzsche (German philosopher),
Twilight of the Idols (1888)
Today I’m writing about writing processes, the evolution of The Department of Curiosities and a long, long journey through the dark.
In 2012 my life changed. For six months I floundered. I’d worked since I was fifteen. Now, suddenly and unexpectedly, I wasn’t. I was lost. How had this happened? Why had this happened? Why me? Why?
I was given professional advice: do something I like. “Find your bliss,” they said. “Do something for yourself.”
I’d always wanted to be a writer and artist, so I turned to a quirky fantasy story that had been mulling around in my head since the late 1980s. But my mood was too dark for the characters. I didn’t blame them. There were other stories wanting to be freed. I turned to a steampunk story I’d been toying with… An adventure. It had a name: The Department of Curiosities. I started writing.
For almost a year I wrote, as my professional world began to crumble, and finally crashed in 2014. I felt used, abused, betrayed, and abandoned. My mental health was stretched. After twenty-eight years of looking after everyone else – my family, my patients – I had to learn to look after myself (not as easy as it sounds). I felt selfish. I felt exhausted. I felt useless.
I stopped writing.
The characters of The Department of Curiosities slipped back into the shadows not wanting to entertain the Black Dog. I didn’t blame them either. Eventually, Viola Stewart stepped forward, willing to sacrifice herself (and her eye) to support and guide me through the next three years. Jack the Ripper, and various nefarious villains, helped me explore motives and psychology as I delved into the darker side of humanity: why do people do what they do? In the process I confronted my own daemons and my personal Black Dog, which constantly nipped at my heels.
Being trained as a scientist, I needed not only to put a name to my emotions, but to discover why I felt this way. Almost five years of professional help, and I hadn’t progressed beyond: Anxiety, ‘deep breathing’ and ‘finding my happy place’.
In 2018 I changed professionals, and was challenged to confront myself. I was diagnosed with PTSD. I started desensitisation therapy.
Finally I felt a slight ease. Things made sense. There was the odd moment of calm. A smile here and there. Aunt Enid popped by, providing a glimmer of hope in my writing worlds. She was beginning to open the doorway back to my original fantasy story… but I wasn’t (and am not) quite there yet.
Tillie stepped forward. She was ready to be heard. I glanced over my notes, pulled out my original manuscript (of almost 80,000 words). I started at the beginning –rewriting, scribbling down notes and plot changes as I went. The story was a little darker than I’d originally envisaged, but overall was a much lighter story than Viola’s murder mysteries, with adventure at its heart.
The Department of Curiosities is my longest story yet – at 104,000 (ish) words/420 pages. Most of the plot has remained intact, though I’ve rewritten almost everything – cutting back on ‘tell’, rewriting ‘inactive’ sentences and adding extra characters. I’ve learned so much about writing in the past five years! During the process, I discovered Tillie, like me, has been fighting to control her own life.
I’ve heard people describe writing as a form of therapy. But it’s not an easy path (at least not the one I took), and not one for the faint hearted. I confronted some dark themes, shied away from some, and embraced others. I discovered catharsis. I’ve excised a character’s eye in revenge, peeked into the darkness of the soul, confronted the feeling of helplessness, and struggled to free myself (and my characters) from the control (or at least the perceived control) of others. I’ve even visited the happier memories from my childhood.
It’s been a long journey, and looks to be a long, rocky trek ahead. Writing has played a major part, sometimes taking me on unexpected side paths, but all heading in one direction: forward.
I feel like I’m starting to free myself from years of expectations and self-denial and neglect. I’ve found a way to work through some of my darker thoughts. It’s helped me to accept (on good days) that I deserve ‘me time’, to look after myself and my mental health. As Writing has made me stronger. I’m starting to believe in myself again. I’m facing my fears and anxieties one at a time. Sometimes I win. Sometimes they do. Perhaps one day I will bring that Black Dog to heel?
The Department of Curiosities is my fifth book – and my longest (if you don’t count that fantasy book still squirming in the back of my head), not only in word count, but in gestation time. I wrote another five chapters and shuffled two chapters into the second book of the trilogy.
I started this journey in 2013. It’s taken five years to see it to completion. It’s taken a year to finally finish the final version of the manuscript.
The Department of Curiosities will be officially released on 22nd May (Tillie’s birthday). A perfect time for new beginnings…
You can find out more information on where to buy it at: http://www.karenjcarlisle.com/shop Check out the book trailers at https://karenjcarlisle.com/books/the-department-of-curiosities/book-trailers-the-department-of-curiosities/
If you want to follow the rest of The Department of Curiosities book launch blog tour, check out the links on my blog post: http://www.karenjcarlisle.com/DOC1bookblogtour You can sign up for my newsletter at: https://karenjcarlisle.com/sign-up-email-list/
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NaNo Oh No!
Astute viewers may have observed a certain lack of blog posts lately… a dearth of content that started just before November and is now ending just after November.
Not a coincidence.
November (and sometimes July) is National Novel Writing Month, when thousands of writers around the world attempt to write the first 50,000 words of their novel in a month. It’s a glorious, unhealthy, stressful ride.
This year I wrote a game. It’s a magical murder mystery named “Death at the Rectory”. It’ll most likely be available via Choice of Games’s “Hosted Games” label sometime in 2019.
It’s set at a very real, very specific location: the 140 year-old rectory of St John’s Anglican Church in Gundagai. It’s no coincidence that my mother is currently the priest there (until the end of this year). Every time I go there I think how amazing it would be to have a writing retreat there (bags not organise such a thing, though) because of the history of the house and the ridiculously high number of external doors (8, almost all in bedrooms). And incredible views from a deck that wraps around three sides of the house.
The idea of doing a fictional writing retreat there percolated in my brain for a while, and now it’s a fully-written interactive fiction story. With murder. And magic.
(This is the church, which is even older than the rectory—and right next door, too.)
By “fully” written I mean there are over 50,000 words, the quality of which I cannot vouch for.
Zipper is doing just fine, for those who come here exclusively for the cat pics.
Monsters
Spoilers for The Shape of Water.
(And highly unrelated pictures, because I’m hazy on copyright law for movie stills.)
Last night, I saw The Shape of Water, which recently won an Oscar and (more importantly in my world) has been talked up by The Mary Sue.
I walked into the movie saying to Chris, “I have no idea why a movie about fish sex just won Best Picture.”
I walked out saying the same thing. I still don’t get it.
The Shape of Water is a fantastic movie. No doubt about that. So I watched a brilliantly written and acted speculative fiction movie and… the more I think about it, the less I like it.
I certainly do appreciate that this is a movie for and about freaks: a fishman, a mute orphan, a black woman (possibly an atheist), an older gay man, and a Russian scientist. (The villain is an oh so heterosexual white man.) It’s also really cool that the film doesn’t suffer from the “male gaze” problem that so many films do (there’s a “normal” sex scene which made the audience audibly horrified, and sexy scenes with Eliza and the fish man focus on her pleasure via her delighted smile). Guillermo del Toro was very careful to give the fish man a lean, muscular body (and especially butt) for female audience members to appreciate (seriously; he consulted regularly with his wife and others) but there aren’t any lingering shots of the fish man either. It is, in short, not a film that’s all about being sexy to the audience.
However, the movie makes it abundantly clear that yes, Eliza (the main character) and the fish man definitely have sex. In her extremely interesting video on Monster Boyfriends, Linday Ellis says The Shape of Water finally took the monster movie “where scores have women had wanted it to go for decades”.
I am just not one of those women. I’m a little disappointed in myself, to be honest. Surely my imagination and empathy aren’t letting me down right here in my favourite genre?
I really like Lindsay Ellis’s take that “Beauty and the Beast” stories are a way for women to talk about their anxiety—and hope—when facing the daunting spectre of arranged marriage. I’ve spoken to quite a few Indonesian people who are in happy arranged marriages and it’s a topic that has fascinated me for years (and that I’m not necessarily opposed to… except of course that it gives men even more power than they already have, with the inevitable awful results in way too many cases).
Elliss’s video has changed my view of the entire “Beauty and the Beast” concept, except of course that (a) Most of the audience is NOT facing arranged marriage, so there’s clearly something else at play (b) The idea of a super-virtuous female changing a bad man into a good man is so awful. First because that’s a classic inverse of famous abuser lines (“I love you, but sometimes you just make me so angry I can’t help it.”), secondly because it relies on fundamental personality change for a relationship to work, which is both patronising (don’t ever go into a relationship thinking you can mould someone to your specifications) and dangerous (false hope and false reality, both of which aren’t healthy).
I DO think that a healthy relationship improves people, but in a mutual and mutually beneficial way. I like a romance where people are partners, and I hate a relationship where someone (pretty much always the woman in a hetero pairing) is the parental figure—either disrespecting their partner, doing more than their fair share of the work, or constantly nurturing someone who doesn’t nurture them back. (This is a topic very close to home as my husband has inattentive ADD, which causes a lot of behaviour that appears childish in a grown man. Luckily-?-my own anxiety and bad health causes a lot of childish-like behaviour in me, too.)
The adjacent idea of “Men will do anything for a pretty woman” is also super problematic. It’s linked to rape culture as well as the infantilising of men (which then links to men not doing their share of household chores, which isn’t good for anyone). I do understand the appeal of that idea. I like the idea of women being powerful, even if only because they own a pair of boobs.
Ellis’s video also talks about King Kong and other movies, and the shift from hatred of monsters to sympathy. She says that, overall, monsters tend to represent the anxieties of whatever time they’re written in.
Which brings us to King Kong. Unfortunately, any kind of primate tends to represent (unconsciously or otherwise) black people, and it’s no coincidence that the darkest/hairiest monsters tend to be paired with the whitest possible females (Sally Hawkins is incredibly white, and her fish man is dark—another problematic element of The Shape of Water). King Kong isn’t a romance (or is it?) but a story of how a white woman is more powerful than a black man (and/or monster). Which is appealing, even to me, but also deeply messed up as I explained above.
On reflection, I think the romantic “monster” of modern books/movies is all about the “bad boy” thing. (Or, in some cases, a case of “Us freaks have finally found each other” crossed with “OUR romance is special and unique”. Both of which I’m actually fine with.)
I have a really close friend who I respect deeply (and who is an adult, mother, and wife) who loves both Twilight and Beauty and the Beast. Both of us are married to very stable, reliable men. Her life is quite stable and responsible and adult-like because her husband has a stabilising influence (it’s not boring; they can do really cool things with their whole family because they actually do planning and budgeting and stuff); my life is risky and chaotic and exciting because I know my husband will be there when I fail. So I think that might be at the heart of things. The bad boy appeals because he is exciting; ditto monsters. To me the bad boy has no appeal because I am already wild and destructive and risky. I am the monster, so I don’t look for those qualities in a partner.
Yep, I think that’s it. Okay! I feel better about monster movies now.
So what about the movie?
First, let’s talk masturbation. The Mary Sue web site loved the fact that Eliza’s life was perfectly content—she didn’t need a man (amphibious or otherwise). She was sexually satisfied by pleasuring herself, and her daily routine was exactly what she wanted it to be. When I watched the movie I wasn’t sure what the purpose of showing Eliza’s masturbation was—why have a masturbation scene, when it clearly wasn’t to titillate the audience?
I think a lot of it was just to say, “Yes, this is set in the 60s, but people were sexually active then too”, so that it felt more natural for her to have a sexual relationship with someone (the fish man, in this case) that she hasn’t known very long.
And I think it was also to hint that Eliza wasn’t necessarily entirely human herself. She was a foundling discovered by a river, with what looked like knife slashes on her neck that later turn into/turn out to be gills. She masturbates in water because she’s part fish person herself. (The fish man is clearly very comfortable mating with a human, so it’s entirely possible fish people have been interbreeding with humans.)
So that’s fine. I found it slightly jarring that Eliza’s face is quite old for a romantic lead (why, she’s over forty! Which is lovely) but her body is VERY young. Not a wrinkle, freckle, sag, or blemish.
Eh, I’m probably just jealous.
I mentioned earlier that the film is all about freaks, which is lovely. (A mute woman, a gay man, etc.) But I hated hated hated that the gay man’s crush was on a twenty-something. The actors are about forty years different in age, and the crush was framed in the film as sweet and life-affirming and charming. I just found it creepy. I would have found it creepy in any much older person crushing on a much younger person, but so much homophobia is based on the idea that homophobia = pedophilia, and although that’s nonsense, having a huge age gap like that in a film is really unhelpful.
I was surprised and disappointed at how little time was spent developing the relationship between Eliza and the fish man. To me, you get to know someone and have a deep connection with them, then you have sex. In the movie, the fish man learns how to say “egg” and “music” and… that’s it. It’s clear that time is passing and there’s more to their growing friendship that we the audience don’t see, but they never actually have a conversation. Couldn’t we have a scene where Eliza and the fish man actually talk to each other? It doesn’t even need to be in words (or in sign language, or whatever). Although having said that, how about they learn one another’s names? Or invent names for each other?
It just didn’t seem to me as if there was much more to the relationship than a bit of sex and a rescue (which is noble and exciting, but doesn’t make a relationship). Clearly the movie portrays sex AS communication/connection.
Okay, fine. Sorta.
It also disturbed me very much that the fish man was child-like in some ways. That’s never not going to make me hate a romantic pairing. I’m fine with someone having fun and being silly, but I’m not okay with someone having the intelligence of a child and then having sex.
Much is made of the fish man’s intelligence, but he doesn’t behave like an intelligent adult. He behaves like an intelligent child.
Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.
And I have one more big problem with the movie (an issue linked to the slightly-off choice of a speaking woman actress for a mute character—when it would be so much better to use a mute actress). I feel like the movie contradicts itself. Eliza appears content from the beginning of the movie (in her rather ordinary life), and she has two excellent friends who don’t see her as a mute woman but as a person.
But then she gives an impassioned speech about how the fish man is happy to see her, and doesn’t see her as incomplete.
Sure, that’s nice. But she already has at least two friends who don’t see her as incomplete either. She’s doing just fine. So what is that speech doing there? There are so many other things she could have spoken passionately about at that exact moment.
Then, in a scene that a lot of people love, she is sitting across the table from the fish man knowing she soon has to let him go, and she sings to him and has an imagined dance sequence with him (much like the TV she loves to watch). So she longs to talk—and sing. Fair enough.
Except… she was so content until then. So it’s as if the fish man brings out her unhappiness, making her life and sense of self seem poor and shabby when they were fine before. No relationship should make you feel worse about yourself or your disabilities (a passing moment of wistfulness, sure—but not an iconic movie scene, weighted with meaning).
I would have been so much happier if her impassioned speech was about something—anything—else. The character is so much more than her disability, yet the movie treats her muteness as her most important character trait in the two most emotional scenes. I hate that.
Maybe the masturbation was all bout Eliza longing desperately for a romantic relationship—the one thing her life lacks most (other than a nicer apartment and job, two things that apparently never bother her). But a romance is so much more than sex. In my opinion.
And, finally, the body horror of the bad guy’s injured fingers is a total cliche, in my opinion, and something rather unworthy of a film that treats a fish man as beautiful and a mute woman as the hero. Yeah, I get that the bad guy is… well… bad. So does that mean everyone with a physical deformity is bad, too? So muteness is fine but physical disability = evil?
I really wanted to like this film, and there are so many wonderful and original things about it. But I don’t have a thing for monsters, I don’t think adult-child romances are ever cute, and I don’t think being mute is the most interesting (or the most tragic) thing about Eliza.
A little piracy
Last weekend I ran a stall at CanCon for three days. It’s Canberra’s biggest board game gathering, and this was the 40th year.
I wore corsets! It was so exciting! And there was a T-Rex. I’ve already booked the exact same stall location for January 2019.
I also wore my pretty pretty princess outfit:
I didn’t actually take a proper camera. Most of these photos were taken on my kindle (NOT recommended, but awfully handy at times).
I’m uncommonly proud that I wore my hair three different ways over the three days. I’m often too tired to brush it before leaving the house.
My new and improved post-surgery body held up pretty well, although I was as careful as I could be while still staffing the stall. I rested a lot today, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t do any permanent injury to myself (I had a lot of ominous blisters and aches and suchlike, but luckily I have a lot of hospital-grade bandages which I used with great care, changing them every day). My wheelchair was handy because it made me feel comfortable sitting down (otherwise I’d feel rude), and because the armrests help support my back.
I sold a massive amount of books, and let a lot of people know about the free pirate ball happening on Saturday 17 February. My daughter also celebrated her 6th birthday on Saturday morning with a dress-up pool party (while my fellow author, Annabelle Lee, manned the stall at CanCon). Two of the younger siblings of her friends are BFFs with my son, so I took one of my favourite sets of photos ever:
These three boys are just as adorable in real life as they look in the pictures.
On the last day of CanCon I received the full set of illustrations for The Monster Apprentice! Tash Turgoose does photorealistic pencils and I’ve been dying to see her work. Here are three small versions of some important characters: Captain Sol, an evil pirate; the heroine, Dance, coming face to face with a heest monster; and Ransom, who. . . well, you’ll have to read the books to find out.
You can immediately see that the fantasy world of Rahana was inspired by Indonesia. And that asking to have Tash Turgoose illustrate the books was a genius move on my part. I saw her book, Makeshift Galaxy, and I’ve been in awe ever since.
Why YES, she is one of the authors (and writers for that matter) for Murder in the Mail. Incidentally, I’m already taking pre-orders for Murder in the Mail. Details in the forum here.
The Monster Apprentice will be launched at the pirate ball on Saturday 17 February. It’s Book 1 of the Heest Trilogy, which is suitable for 10-14 year olds (and also people like me, that just like a great story). It’s likely there are more Rahana stories to come after this trilogy, too.
Sandy Fussell is one of my absolute favourite children’s authors (I own the entire Samurai Kids series), so I asked her for a cover quote for The Monster Apprentice. She gave me a selection! Here’s one:
- The Monster’s Apprentice will transport you somewhere wonderful, unlike any world you’ve imagined. Caught between terrifying Heest monsters and murderous pirates, with only her name for a weapon, Dance must defend the ice island of Luar and its people.
She also said “I wish I had Felicity’s imagination” which is simply ludicrous. If you read any of her books, you’ll know why.
But I don’t mind a little flattery. I am a writer, after all.
And here’s the final trailer for The Monster Apprentice, for the three humans who haven’t seen it yet.
https://www.youtube.com/my_videos?o=U
Felicity Banks 