2019 Fiction Master Post

I finished two of the pieces mentioned in last year’s master post. I suppose that’s an accomplishment, if we ignore all the name-dropped works that didn’t eventuate?

On the positive side, I’ve been somewhat-regularly posting fiction through the second half of this year. My mental health has been a disaster, I’ve got another new chronic pain site, I’ve tried several new medications, I’ve spent much of this year struggling to sleep even on melatonin, and I’ve had to kiss farewell anything containing gluten … but I have posted a score of stories. That’s something worth celebrating, even as I hope that I never again endure a year imbued with 2019’s chronic sense of despondency.

(I’m hoping that coeliac turns out to be the missing key in the mystery that is my ongoing physical and mental health, because I’m beyond tired of enduring yet another treatment or medication change for no meaningful difference.)

I’ve posted or published a total of 82, 318 words of fiction alone in 2019. I’ve also gotten back into sewing in a major way, between making clothes for my 6 inch mini dolls and pride-flag cross-stitch patches. (There’s even more on Tumblr.) I also made an allo-aro information hub on Aro Worlds, I started a Patreon, and I created Aro Arrows, an archive for aromantic-pride stock images. Making different things (so there’s something I can do when various limbs object to what I mean to do) is how I survive my body and brain, so to talk only in terms of productivity obscures the real pain and struggle 2019 also brought me. But there is also a wondrous selection of things I can say that I made!

(I also changed my pronouns, about which I still haven’t had the time or spoons to write.)

I’m currently working on tutorials for said patches and the publication edition of Love is the Reckoning, but I am desperate to start writing a story (any story) in which I can provide representation for coeliac. Like autism, I have to wonder what my quality of life may have been now had I known earlier–if my doctors hadn’t brushed off the possibility. Diagnosis, again, brings that twinned combination of belated recognition and betrayal. If I can bring awareness to coeliac through my writing in 2020, perhaps I can build a world where people can sooner recognise their symptoms and push for testing.

Thank you, as always, to my supporters: you are in large measure the reason why there’s so many fiction pieces on this list!

I would like, in 2020, to be able to make enough income from my online work that I can afford domain registration and add-free plans for all my websites. If you want to help me with that not-so-lofty goal, please check out my ko-fi and (again) my patreon.

Cover image for Hallo, Aro: Allosexual Aromantic Flash Fiction by K. A. Cook. Cover features dark pink handwritten type on a mottled green background with a large line-drawn peacock feather, several sketch-style leaves and swirly text dividers. Green arrows sit underneath each line of text.Hallo, Aro: Friendship

Contains: A sapphic aromantic who wishes to partner a dragon’s handmaiden without the complications of a romantic relationship, but finds comfort in her friendship with her own dragon.

Length: 993 words / 4 PDF pages.

Why I liked writing it: There’s an aro-coded dragon…? I like the idea of aro characters finding support in platonic or non-romantic relationships, but I adore writing about aro characters finding support in platonic or non-romantic relationships with other aromantics.

Read after this: Attraction, where Elisa finds a girl and still has no intention of leaving her dragon.

Continue reading

2018 Fiction Master Post

Despite veering from periods of no writing to periods of all the writing, I have managed to end this year by posting or publishing twelve new fictional pieces. A master post collecting all pieces seems appropriate, both in the sense of allowing me to talk a little and making all these pieces easy for readers to find and access.

It seems to me that aromanticism has become an irrevocable presence in my fiction, as central to what I write as being trans and autistic: every single piece features an aromantic-spectrum protagonist (although some works don’t focus on this). For me this sense that I do not have to include something alien to me feels liberating and empowering. It’s frustrating, yes, to struggle to find my place in the literary canon; it’s disheartening to know that eschewing alloromantic experiences is a unrecognised barrier between me and a good many readers. Yet I have this year made an online space that is more receptive of my work, and I can only hope that this keeps on growing.

Thank you to all the folks who have supported me and my art in some way this year, be it through likes or reblogs, linking my work to others or sending me messages: I am truly grateful for your interaction and encouragement.

If you like what I do and have the ability to help me survive in doing it, I’ll remind you all that I have a ko-fi. All digital beverages are gratefully appreciated (although I am baffled by the thought of imbibing real coffee).

Please find below a variety of flash fiction pieces, short stories and novelettes, featuring a collection of queer, disabled, trans, non-binary, autistic and aromantic characters. All these works are free to read!

Continue reading

Links, Updates and Tumblr

I was planning to post new fiction today, but I never had the chance to edit. Between scrolling through thousands of posts on Tumblr to check for erroneous “NSFW” flags, making alternate accounts, backing up blogs and general unhappiness, my hands and shoulder are horrible. Stress, unsurprisingly, is a pain trigger, and I put my hands through hell in trying to catch Tumblr’s mistakes.

(Until last night, I didn’t even have a functioning chronic pain tag in which to post about said chronic pain flare. I am pleased that it has been returned to us; I am not pleased that Tumblr hasn’t acknowledged the damage caused by denying disabled people access to this tag.)

Mermaid sequin pillows, pencil cases, slime, squishies, chew pendants, text posts about aro autistics discussing our creativity and a post advertising Their Courts of Crows were flagged as NSFW. Everything flagged as explicit, despite being worksafe content, was for or about queer, autistic, aromantic, disabled and trans people. My posts seem to have become unflagged since I reported them, but I have no reason to trust that Tumblr will remain a safe space for marginalised content creators.

People who haven’t violated Tumblr’s new restrictions can’t trust Tumblr as a reliable host for our content. Where does that leave everyone else?

Continue reading

Linkspam Friday: November 30

Does anyone remember that I do this? I can’t blame you if you don’t. It’s been a while.

After a flurry of posting fiction, I’ve been updating book pages. I’ve now got cover art up for The Sorcerous Compendium of Postmortem Query. (Self, use a less unwieldy title next time.) I’m currently trying to focus on finishing the third Mara and Esher story because I can’t post the second Crew chapter: there’s just too big a revelation for the events that happen in A Quest of Spheres and Phalanges for those two pieces to be read out of order. (Self, that title isn’t much less unwieldy and you damn well know it.) After that, I’d really like to finish Love in the House of the Ravens (so unwieldy) so I can put that and One Strange Man up: together with The Adventurer King, they form a kind of trilogy in Darius’s identifying as aromantic. I have to admit that between Darius, Mara, Kit, Amelia and a little bit of Tes, I’ll be glad to put to bed the “discovering the word” genre of aromantic writing.

It’s a shape of storytelling that needs to exist, given how much it normalises our experiences as aromantics. I’m just so used to now writing characters who are trans or autistic with little explanation on their gender or neurotype that I’m feeling the need for a similar approach with aro-spec characters, too. I like writing about aromantic characters mentoring new aromantics because I can show folks already at that point, but I’m starting to yearn for a story that mentions a protagonist’s aromanticism, has no reaction from anyone else beyond casual acceptance and then concerns itself with everything but aromanticism.

In unrelated news, Tumblr decided that “chronic pain” is a porn-related tag and now has given folks with chronic pain no way to search for each other or find related content. Disabled people like me are collateral damage in their rush to delete dangerous and illegal content that shouldn’t have been allowed to flourish in the first place. Tumblr, if there’s porn in the chronic pain tag, the problem is the porn bots who shouldn’t be putting it there, not a community of chronic pain patients trying to find support and connection.

I know that there’s never been a purge of anything that hasn’t caught up innocent (most often marginalised) people in its wake, but surely by 2018 there’s enough historical precedent to realise that a little care is needed before hitting the wipe button?

(And I hate, I hate that I have far too much of a following to be able to walk away from a platform that thinks it acceptable to silence me as a disabled person.)

Continue reading

Fiction: Maybe When the Bones Crumble

Summary: His hand broken, his father dead, his brother rebelling and his mother dancing the bones, Einas ein Iteme has nobody at the Eyrie but the chancellor and one cursed question he can’t escape.

Content advisory: This story depicts several shades of ableism targeted at autistics and chronic pain patients, along with a good amount of casual cissexism and more direct heterosexism. I’m intentionally writing about the ableism that isn’t seen by the abled as ableism, but for this reason it may be more distressing for disabled readers. It also takes place in the context of civil war and familial abuse, with references to both. Please note that there’s references of medical mismanagement and poor handling of meltdowns; there’s also depictions of and references to self-harm, one of which may be interpreted as suicidal ideation. It’s also worth mentioning that this story does not have a happy ending, at least for the moment. This begins to change in Birds of a Feather.

Word count: 4, 945 words.

Note the first: Maybe When the Bones Crumble takes place before, during and immediately after Their Courts of Crows, detailing Ein’s time in the Eyrie while Paide and Zaishne war it out across Ihrne and Arsh. Please note that this isn’t written to be accessible to newcomers: I don’t spend words on detailed explanations on how Ein came to be injured or the fact of Ein’s autism.

Note the second: I have a relative who breaks me every time she asks me this same question. (What part of chronic pain do abled people not understand? All of it, including the fact that it doesn’t just magically go away.) Her latest rendition took place on the eighth anniversary of the injuries that caused my chronic wrist pain, an unexpected double-blow, so I wanted to put this hurt and frustration to story—the growing knowledge that just as my pain won’t change, neither will the attitudes of the people who hurt me. So this is a short, personal piece that I’m posting, fairly unedited, to get that weight of feeling outside my skin. I’ll also mention that this story is a deliberate examination of the way autism, anxiety and chronic pain come together, things inseparable in Ein and in me.

It seems to him then that pain is its own irrevocable truth.

Continue reading

Linkspam Friday: October 19

Last week, I had four medical appointments at the end of the week and nowhere near the organisational skills required to get a post organised before then–a feat not helped by a dire lack of content to post about.

This week, I still don’t have a lot of @aroworlds content. I’ve been working on the long-awaited post collecting allosexual aromantic media and hammering out a last-minute first draft for a vaguely-Halloween-ish short story about a necromancer’s summoning her outspoken great-aunt’s ghost to talk about her struggles with cute girls and romantic attraction. It results in a whole horde of local ghosts coming out as various shades of aro-spec and a terrible overuse of the word “bosom”. I would have appreciated the idea coming to mind sooner than Tuesday night, but, on the positive side, I have a complete 7k first draft written in three days despite more pain than I like (because I am not recovered from Kit March, of course). I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever, without stopping, written a complete story like that; more often, I write, get distracted by something else in the middle and finish the story days, weeks or months later.

I want to publish it properly, because it works wonderfully as a prequel for Love is the Reckoning, but I’ll post it here sometime before Halloween regardless of its polishing. I think having a friend, the fabulous @crimsonsquare, encourage me on its progress has helped me be able to sit and work to get it done. It’s easier to write when I feel like someone not me is interested in the story…

Continue reading

Linkspam Friday: August 31

I’m still getting used to my new desk arrangement, but I’m finally able to sit at my desk chair for more than half an hour. Excuse me while I sigh, for I’d love to own a body that doesn’t react to new positions with migraines and pain in places that aren’t chronic pain sites. A former psychologist of mine used to argue that I’ve got the advantage of having experienced much of the pain and limitations that come with aging early, as though experience is a consolation prize for not being able to spend my twenties and thirties doing things I should take for granted. In truth, all it does is make me wonder how much worse my life is going to be when I’m sixty if I can’t cope now.

I rather suspect that kind of reframing doesn’t well work on the autistic and anxious.

It breaks me, sometimes, to think on how little I knew about good-for-me psychology and how much difficulty, struggle and trauma it’s taken to even recognise what my needs are. I’ve spent a lifetime trying not to be autistic such that, two years in, I only have an incomplete sense of what doesn’t work. What does work is a grey space of vagary, an eternal question mark. I think that question underpins everything I write–that it’s all one long, rambling conversation between an autistic and their subconscious trying to figure out what’s needed from the world.

Post – My New Desk Arrangement: Here’s a photo of my desk, my new chair height, temporary footstool and test sideways mouse, along with a little rambling on the lack of conversation about office accessibility for tall/short people.

Continue reading

Linkspam Friday: August 10

I’m trying to get used to a new keyboard/desk arrangement on the advice from the OT at the pain clinic, which is making typing difficult for me. Even the slightest of changes in posture and arrangement throw me off to a ridiculous degree in terms of body memory, pain and not triggering migraines–I will get used to it, probably, but the adjustment period is difficult, more disabling for me than my pain. I’ve now also got to hunt down an affordable sideways mouse to see if that helps me use it more comfortably.

On the positive side, I do keep my shoulders and neck in the correct position, and I’ve been using my iPad as well as it is possible to use a tablet in terms of propping it on pillows and my bag. His opinion is more that I shouldn’t be trying to use it with the tucked-in-no-arms-out-everywhere position wielded by everyone else … but it’d be so nice to be able to comfortably use my devices on the train without needing to occupy two seats. I still don’t know how other folks do this. Not being autistic? Souls sold to demons? Who knows, because I don’t.

Apparently I type fast, but I talk, walk and read fast, too, so this should be a surprise to nobody. I’ve never operated at normal human speed.

Post: “Heartfelt”, The Good Doctor and Autistic Character Arc – In which I prove that I am still not over this ableist disaster of an episode by complaining about it and discussing the need to centre our need for representation instead on the works of autistic creatives. I admit that I have a few horses in this race, but I am so tired of seeing The Good Doctor praised for including a character who moves like me when the story is still so focused on seeing Shaun become more allistic. One day I’ll have the spoons to write a long-arse essay on why I am not a fan.

Post: Trans Characters Versus Trans Fiction – In which I rant about the phenomenon of seeing any book with a trans side character (by a cis author) recommended (by cis reviewers) as trans fiction … while trans authors of trans fiction with trans narrating protagonists struggle to get the same recommendations and audience. I have horses in this race as well to say the least, but am I tried of having well-meaning folks recommend me a story as important trans rep only to discover that the character is a side character.

Continue reading

Linkspam Friday: August 3

This week I went to a chronic pain information session where the attending psychologist lovingly spoke of mindfulness for far longer than I find comfortable. I, on the other hand, sat there as a stubborn autistic in an unreachable state of hell, no. I think she knew it, too, because she tried to talk to me after the event. Thankfully, the (good!) psychiatrist I’m seeing as part of the same program is really on board with autism, told me that we do not have to go there with mindfulness and I don’t have to see the program psychologists, so it’s more an annoyance than a problem.

On the positive side, this information session didn’t spent three hours demonising pain medication like most others I’ve been to. For a government-funded pain clinic, that’s actually impressive: the information sessions I went to at the first clinic were basically Pain Medication Is The Devil propaganda. It was close to the same addiction/opioid crisis spiel I get from “normal” people with a little more medical jargon thrown in, but one should never underestimate the ableism in medicine. I don’t. I can’t. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard pain specialists talk about pain meds as a “crutch” to a room of disabled pain patients while forgetting that a crutch is a mobility aid and not a ball and chain. It’s remarkable when I don’t have to sigh at it.

So! What else have I done this week?

Header text: Aro Worlds: Connecting aro creatives and aro audiences. Header is in antique black type above an ornate divider.

Ask – Character Tropes and Identity: In which an anon asks me about a character trope that might be read as aromisia and writing an ace character who doesn’t use the split-attraction model, and I talk writing a world full of a-spec in response. I also make an addition on the Tumblr post in talking about allowing creators to prioritise one’s own marginalised identity over broader representation in our protagonists, which I should have mentioned in the original.

Post – The Quiver and the Quill: I’ve been murmuring about starting a collective for independent aro-spec writers, given the lack of specialised community, promotion and support–especially for those of us who can’t find it in asexual spaces. In this post I both offered up a name and underestimated the aro-spec community’s love for subtle puns and alliteration!

Fiction – What If It Isn’t: A month ago, I posted a short story to Tumblr, so this week I posted it to the WordPress site as well. If you want a cute, fluffy, unresearched piece about adorable sapphics planning to figure out a QPR after robbing an art gallery, plus an obligatory autistic aro-spec protagonist, this is for you. Also available in PDF and EPUB, because I can.

Continue reading

Blog Promo: Aro Worlds

I don’t need another blog. I’m failing quite nicely at keeping up with the ones I have.

Except that I was browsing Tumblr one day and felt so frustrated at the decreased visibility for aro creative media compared to ace creative media. The problem with having a bunch of social media, editing, design and text-related skills housed in a disabled body is that my brain keeps on telling me that if it doesn’t exist to my specifications, there’s nothing stopping me from doing it myself. There isn’t, if I discard mental illness and chronic pain.

(It’s kind of amazing how a brain that is impacted by mental illness has a habit of just ignoring said mental illnesses until I’m neck deep in all the things my brain told me to do, all the things driving me to panic and suicidal ideation because, shock, I can’t do everything. I mean, come on. We’ve been through this hell multiple times now, brain. Learn, would you?)

I’m not saying that ace folks have a glut of representation. That isn’t true. I am saying that there’s a little more conversation about it, more available resources connecting ace audiences to ace creativity; it’s a little bit easier to find, especially if you’re after alloromantic ace media.

Continue reading