Chemotherapy: Work-Life Balance (Rambling)

The first seven-to-nine days after a chemo dose I'm exhausted.  Brain fog swirls around each thought, and I nap daily.  Side effects cram themselves between gaps of consciousness.  I get nothing done.

 I struggle with my lack of progress, especially when my brain starts to clear but I'm still not able to work.  Everything I want done bombards my thoughts.  I tell myself I should get busy. Naps, so necessary, are taken as a sign I'm lazy.  I begin to hate myself for my lack of ambition.

~*~

There is a two-week span between my chemotherapy treatments.  During a rough dose, I might only have four truly "good" days to get things done before I receive another.  I must choose carefully or I lose even more time to indecision.

Three blogs, two Twitter accounts, one mentor program, four email accounts, submission deadlines, editing, social obligations, doctor appointments...

My husband and I don't have children.  I don't work outside the home.  I can't imagine what chemotherapy is like for other people.
~*~
The American Cancer Society runs commercials with smiling chemotherapy patients who do yoga, manage a full-time job, and go dancing.  They are nothing like me.  These portrayals make me feel like I'm not trying hard enough.  Why is it easier for them?

Maybe, like most advertisements, it's all an act.
~*~
I'm a huge believer in lists and prioritization.  Foolishly, I thought all my tasks could be managed with an up-to-date list in color-coded glory.  The list is barely a guideline.  A blog post that should take an hour will now take three.  An afternoon of submitting to literary magazines bleeds into a muddled week.

Near the end of every recovery period, I quickly sketch what I need to do for the next set of "good" days.  Only the barest of plans are laid.  Any promises I made go to the top.  My career takes a hit because the only one I will disappoint is myself.

I struggle and flail.  I tell myself any progress is victory.  I nap.

Mentor Applications Close April 7th

Update:  Mentor applications will be accepted until April 7th.  Hopefully, this will help our potential mentors.

We have one returning mentor for poetry.  And... that's it.  Applications for mentors close in ten days!  (Click here for the application link.)  No one else has emailed us.  I'm hoping for a rush of excellent writers directly at the finish line.  But, I know I can't always turn dreams into reality.

I haven't promoted the program as hard this year... maybe.  Chemo is demanding and difficult.  Perhaps everyone thought it was more exciting last year because it was our inaugural year.

We want to make this an annual event!  To our knowledge, we're the only mentor program for disabled/neurodivergent writers.  We're the only program that keeps it directly in our community.  Always.

If we don't receive more applications, the program will go into hiatus this year.  We don't want that to happen.

Please, if you're an established disabled/neurodivergent writer who thinks they'd make a great mentor, consider applying.  It's a volunteer position but an important one.  You will help foster another writer's career or project for two months.  For a community that's often isolated from mainstream opportunity, this could make a huge difference to someone.  You could make the difference.

(For all the links about our program, click here.)

If you have questions or need the application in another format:  Comment on this post.  Or email us at:  handyuncappedpen@gmail.com
We are also on Twitter:  @HandUnPen

Suffering Artists (Two Branches)

You do not have to suffer for your art.  You shouldn't be expected to bleed trauma onto the page or stage for the masses.  You have a right to find joy, peace, connection, or any number of facets in creation.

The mythology of the "suffering artist" is often used to make downtrodden, creative folks stay on a path of isolation and pain.  It's supposed to hurt, society tells us.  We're supposed to endure.  But, agony shouldn't be a constant state of being.

Following any passion requires sacrifice... true.  There will be arduous parts of your career.  Ultimately, art should nourish you more than wound.
~*~
Notions of suffering propelling art are so romanticized in certain circles that some artists bemoan not being targets of bigotry or oppression.  They crave the flavor it would add to their work.  A truly privileged position, to think of trauma as an accessory!

Instead of counting themselves lucky, they practically demand front-row access to torment they have no right to.  They soak it up vicariously and try to regurgitate it for their own audiences—losing nuance and depth for faux-gravitas.

An important fact the rhetoric ignores:  Art can heal.  It defines the knots of past wounds.  It can show others the shape of someone else's pain and help them understand.  Pain is not a currency.

When is Our "Moment"?

If able-bodied agents and editors are waiting in their inaccessible towers for disabled and neurodivergent writers to have our "mainstream moment" in the industry, it will never come.  Because they don't care about our accomplishments or see our triumphs now.  Because our talent means nothing to them without an arbitrary form of relevance they help foster.  It's like someone who is self-employed waiting with growing irritation for their workday to begin.

If our "moment" rolls in with the help of able-bodied publishers, what will it look like?  Inspiration porn derived from our successes?  Scraps of pity from their feast?  Our stories are already (often) twisted for mainstream consumption.  Will those involved center us, or just use us?

Anticipating an inciting incident for a rise in criplit smacks of a fad.  Our stories are merely a trend to chase—vampire erotica will wax and wane alongside heroines on crutches.  And, when the "moment" arrives, it will be full of able-bodied/neurotypical writers flooding the market with crippled characters in two-dimensional glory.  Our lives reduced to cardboard and forever "othered".

No group of people is ever a fad.  We are not frivolous plot points.  We are not the latest fashion you can discard in a dresser next season!

Just because "the mainstream" thinks we haven't had our moment, doesn't mean we aren't relevant.  We are the world's largest minority.  We have famous writers and artists permeating our history.  We have writers crushing the hell out of things right now!  Our successes are not anomalies and not confined to a tiny capsule of days.

Mainstream media will tell you we haven't had our moment yet and they're correct—we will never settle for such a short period of time.  We own the future.

8 MFA Alternatives

January brought social media announcements of disabled writers going back to college.  Between those posts, I saw others lament their lack of degrees.  A lot of us, it seems, desire(d) a college education without the ability to obtain one.  If what you want is knowledge (and not necessarily the paper), there are alternatives out there.

The eight options below take a variety of approaches.  For the best results, mix and match.  There are probably more positives or negatives for each option than listed.

If you're continuing your creative writing education without a traditional college path, how are you accomplishing it?

Alternatives to an MFA:

1.  The library.

Pros:  Free, numerous resources, librarians to assist you with research, Internet access, most libraries are at least somewhat accessible, go at your own pace.  Some even have Gale Courses.

Cons:  No consistent guidance, finding what you need might prove tricky, no critique or mentorship.

2.  Auditing college classes.

Pros:  Real college experience, guided learning, no pressure to turn in assignments.  Reduced cost (but not free).

Cons:  Accommodations might not be made for your needs, no participating in discussions, limited (or no) access to professors if you're struggling, timed commitment.

3.  Online courses.

Pros:  Stay home, certain classes have group discussions, more flexible schedule, guided learning, instructors may be available to help you.

Cons:  Time commitment required, some classes cost money, technology used might not be right for every disability.  Some places allow anyone to post a "course", so you have to be cautious.

4.  A critique/writing group.

Pros:  Free, feedback/advice, possible support outside the group.

Cons:  Time commitment required, local groups might meet in inaccessible places, you might end up using your energy on other people's work more than your own.

5.  Conferences.

Pros:  Connect with industry professionals/other writers, interesting panels, possible pitch sessions, readings.

Cons:  Most conferences cost serious money and aren't accessible.  Online offerings are meager.  Not great for long-term education.

6.  Subscriptions/services.

Pros:  Literary magazines can expose you to new work and styles; reading them also gives you insight into what they publish.  Writing magazines can keep you updated on publishing news and give you editing tips.  Some services submit for you and/or keep track of where you've submitted.  Delivered to your door.

Cons:  Costs money (and, with submission services, a lot), limited information, no interaction, you'd need quite a few different resources to cobble together a well-rounded experience.

7.  Workshops.

Pros:  Feedback/advice, instructor-lead sessions, some instructors might be writers you admire.

Cons:  Same as conferences, except there seem to be more workshop opportunities available online.

8.  Mentors.

Pros:  One-on-one advice/feedback, more relaxed interactions, can help open doors or shape a career.  Free (hopefully).

Cons:  A bad mentor can mess you up worse than a bad conference because of the trust and proximity of the relationship.  Finding the right one is difficult.

Applications for Mentors Open Today!

Disabled and neurodivergent writers, today we open for applications from volunteer mentors for our 2019 term! Established writers will agree to work with emerging ones in our community during the months of August and September.

Things you need to know:

1.  This program can't pay anyone involved.
2.  We'd like at least one mentor for teens this year.
3.  We try to check out everyone before accepting them. (No bigots, liars, etc.)
4.  Everyone participating should write in English. No geographic restriction.
5.  This program is for disabled and/or neurodivergent people only!
6.  Applications are due March 31st.

An overview of the program is here.
For application questions, please click this.
We have a FAQ page here.

Thank you for considering our program!  Without our hardworking mentors, this wouldn't exist.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. We can be reached via email (handyuncappedpen@gmail.com), on Twitter (@HandUnPen), or in the comments below.

A Gift of Ableism for the Holidays

"Editors are always interested in heart-warming, holiday-themed content.  Write stories of stray dogs finding homes and disabled people finding help."

"The disabled receiving Christmas miracles make great stories!  How about a young girl learning to walk on Christmas morning?!"

At least four different, able-bodied writers gave a variation of the above advice in newsletters or via social media last month.  Cripples are to be pitied, according to these writers.  We are as pathetic and helpless as stray dogs!  We are a gimmick (tug those heartstrings).  One writer went as far as to say able-bodied people should be the ones to fix or assist us in the stories.

We are seen as nothing but an abstract concept or glaring stereotype of sucking, horrid need.  I'd like to blame the existence of Tiny Tim—a sweet, sickly child with the temperament a Catholic martyr would envy—for this, but I just can't.  People should know better in our current age.  Research, if nothing else, would improve their impressions of us.

This is yet another consequence of our exclusion from society (as writers and as part of the general population).  I'd bet most of these writers only have whispers of interaction with a disabled person, if that.  They get their ignorance from misguided popular media and, in turn, guide other writers in creating more of the same.  Disabled people writing new narratives are often dismissed because they refuse to reinforce ludicrous notions or regurgitate stories of our oppression.

Next holiday season, don't regift your ableism... throw it the hell out!