here’s how quinn (and all the entirian) looks to me

Finished Chapter 9 of SoA tonight (4/12/2017). Also, I found a picture of what I imagine Quinn looks like. (You’d have to come to my wordpress to see it, though.)

Chapter 9 is the chapter where Quinn is at boot camp and has to earn everyone’s respect there. It was actually a very difficult chapter to write because it gave me some unpleasant flashbacks and I had to stop writing it for a bit.

I did enjoy writing most of it, though. The only part that really sucked was the scene where Quinn finally earns everyone’s respect. It didn’t . . . resonate with me, so I doubt it’ll resonate with readers, even though it’s supposed to be a powerful and defining moment for Quinn. I just didn’t . . . pull it off. I’m thinking that scene will need many rewrites or else I’ll have to come up with a different idea.

Right now, I feel like SoA can be explained this way: the first half of the book is sex, gender, and sexuality, the second half of the book is friendship, family, blood and gore.

It’s like that because the book begins when Quinn is still a teenager and is getting her weird alien period and exploring her sexuality. Also, Ckylar and General Miora both give Quinn “the talk” since her mother Rose is not there.

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Yes, Virginia. People are BORN queer. (and there is a santa claus)

I plan for this to be my last post for the weekend, subscribers. New post comin’ Monday!

I recently had the great misfortune of stumbling across a blog — here on wordpress, no less — where a bunch of ignorant people sat around talking about how homosexuality is wrong and a learned behavior and should not be a part of “diversity” when we talk about diverse books.

What’s interesting is that all the people who commented claimed they don’t hate gay people and even wanted to include gay people in their stories. They see us as people with a mental disorder that needs fixing. They don’t want to hurt us, they say.

Except invalidating someone’s sexuality is hurting them and you are wrong.

They’re like those racists who swear they aren’t racist but who see black people as inferiors who can’t help being inferior. It’s wrong to hate our inferiors. People can’t help being lowly scum, right? The kind thing to do is to teach them to be better! And by “better” we mean “like us!”

I think I’m going to hurl. . . . my car at someone’s head.

It’s very curious how people can be hateful and discriminatory bigots, all under the delusion that they mean no harm. Benevolent bigotry is still bigotry. It stems from ignorance, just like every other form of hatred. Maybe you don’t think you hate gay people, but telling someone they’re disgusting and wrong and excluding them from discussions about diversity and invalidating who and what they are is hateful. 

It’s hatred.

And you know why you think that way? You know why you think homosexuality is wrong? Because you were taught to think that way. See, you’re the one following instructions. Not me.

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Self-Publishing: Just Another Prejudice

I’ve always kinda felt like any morbidly curious person who wanted to understand how it felt to face daily prejudice and discrimination should just self-publish a book and watch as they were wilted down into an incompetent, worthless, inferior by the rest of the publishing world.

Watch as the condescending headpats come in. “Oh sure, you’re a real author. Sure.”

Watch as every book blogger, contest, and community suddenly wants nothing to do with you.

Watch as every person you tell your book about gets a fixed smile as they pretend to encourage you.

Watch as the world openly points and laughs at you, belittles you, and writes entire dissertations about how you are inferior and disgusting and a blight on the publishing world.

It’s not the full experience of living with oppression, of course. It doesn’t extend into the workplace, where you’re lucky to get hired at all, where you’re often the first person let go. It doesn’t extend to your family or your community or your ability to walk down the fucking street, shop in a store without being deemed “suspicious.” It doesn’t extend to comedians dressing up like you and mocking and shaming your body. It doesn’t extend to casual slurs hurled at you with the expectation that you will quietly, docilely take them. It doesn’t extend into the courtroom, where your rapist will be patted on the head because now his life is ruined, not yours, even though everyone is writing disgusting articles detailing your rape and blaming you for getting separated from your friends.

For me, a marginalized person, self-publishing is just the cream on the already-sour cake. It’s one more thing holding me back from achieving my goals. You could argue that self-publishing is a choice and that being born gay, for instance, is not. But . . . sometimes I don’t feel as if the traditional publishing world left me any choice. For me, self-publishing was the only way to be heard.

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