What Language Our Survival Speaks

Hello good folks (and auto-follow bots). What a noisy, quiet year. Noisy on the input, quiet on the output. Almost every writer I know or follow has spent some (most?) of 2021 living on the writer’s block. I am not immune. I’ve lived there, too.

Just as the year closed out, however, I finally felt that spark. It turned into this piece for the Spoonie Authors Network. Called Welcome to Disability (a House with Infinite┬áRooms), it’s my letter to the folks with long Covid who are just finding themselves in our ranks, though I think it can speak to anyone who exists in this space called Disabled.

I hope to have more to share soon. I hope you are well. I hope whatever it is you love to create is only hibernating in these wild times. I hope. I hope. I hope. Because I can’t fathom the alternative.

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Best of the Net

(CW: Mental illness, hospitalization)

I first wrote my poem, In Patient, while I was hospitalized because of debilitating symptoms that hit at my intersection of mental illnesses. The poem has lived on my computer for about 20 years, a small moment in a long relationship with my disability. Literary magazine Serotonin not only gave it a home, but they gave it a loving home. Now they’ve nominated it, along with 7 others, for the Best of the Net 2020. I’m heartened by the changing conversation around neurodiversity and mental illness and I’m grateful that my experiences are a part of it.