Discussion: If We Could Tell an Author One Thing …
If our contributors could tell an author writing a character with their disability one thing–besides “do your research”–what would it be?
If our contributors could tell an author writing a character with their disability one thing–besides “do your research”–what would it be?
These magical or futuristic “fixes” seem rooted in a discomfort with disability: many writers cannot (or don’t want to) imagine a life without sight and therefore create excuses to give their character equivalent sighted experiences.
As much as I crave representation in fiction, it bothers me that some people seem to see autism as a way to create conflict or add a unique viewpoint to a narrative. It is even more disturbing when so many of these portrayals are inaccurate or incomplete.
An estimated 1 in 7 women suffer from chronic pelvic pain; it’s bizarre and disappointing that despite these statistics, there are distinctly zero characters with this condition.
I have to accumulate all the data from these varying experiences and use them to define myself. Otherwise, others will do it for me.
It’s clear that many people, including pre-diagnosis me, don’t know much about hypermobility; this only makes the need for representation more necessary.
A lot of people only see the bad sides of Asperger’s. What they don’t see is that it can have its perks, too. My entire career as an author—which is a very fun one!—is entirely dependent on this condition.
Blind characters seem to always go too far in either one direction or the other—either completely ruled by their disability, or completely unfazed. The truth is, I hate both, because neither is honest.