The Many Faces of Writers

After a long day of productive writing on a fun side story, I felt that intense urge to prematurely share the adventure... Once more hitting that frustrating wall belonging to every serious writer who self-publishes to market rather than throwing their first drafts on WattPad--I just can't. I can tell a friend or two, but the intimate thrill of the writing must still be refined into its intended finale before I take that leap.

The paradox begins to twist into my thoughts. Even though I blog in first person about myself or my methods, etc. I begin to feel as if my truest voice is growing in my fiction, my ideals, my most faithful words, my endless love for creation. I feel the frustration and confusion of reality start to untangle, the complex becoming understandable, my connection to reality stronger through my interpretation in fantasy. I don't feel this need to transform reality to cater to me, but rather, I become more peaceful in the acceptance that I can't control anything completely. I also have no temptation to disguise my real-life ideals, politics, or preferences to subliminally teach people or, worse, recruit them to think like me, or guilt my readers to agree with what I think might be good or bad.

Perhaps even more strongly since I've seen writers insist that writers have a responsibility to educate, when nothing can be further from the truth. Can it be a responsibility? Presented as non-fiction, certainly, but even then, it falls under personal responsibility for each person to remember you absolutely cannot believe everything you read, no matter how it is presented. Biases will always exist that will saw away the best intentions into so much dust.

For some in a state of mental simplicity, zen, whatever you want to call it, the easy answer is that all voices coming from you (barring crippling schizophrenia) are your true voice. However, I feel as if there is always a voice I associate myself with more and it's not always the one in our shared reality. Don't get me wrong--this isn't about retreating from reality. I can literally feel my brain working more clearly, cleverly, calmly in certain states. More often than not, it's while exploring internal processes than external stimuli.

Since I'm back at writing, I'll leave this at that. Thanks for reading!

Why Write Fantasy?

For some people, this is probably an easier answer. Maybe it's always been your favorite genre or it's how you think. In my case, most of the entertainment I consume isn't fantasy. Video games, yes, but aside from my love of superheroes, I'm not someone that looks for fantasy shows or movies first. My tastes tend to lead me to comedy, dramas, medical and crime, even documentaries. So when I ask myself 'why write fantasy?', I had to do some digging. I'll have to jump around a bit, but there are a lot of layers to this.

I've come into adult concepts since childhood that I've struggled to understand even as an adult. When we struggle to understand, sometimes we give up and end up either accepting it unexplained or developing a stance of ignorance. There's even a lot of ego in our youth that tells us it's tolerance that makes it acceptable to just let our emotions lead, but as we grow up, we look for logical ways to be at peace with the unknown. We start to accept that the good and bad in people is subjective and variable and that we often say things that don't match our actions. For example, while people might generally see as tolerant, we often say something before we've thought it out that twists that. I watched an old video where Kelly Osbourne slipped up and said "If you kick Latinos out of your country, who will be cleaning your toilets, Donald Trump?" And most of us winced but at the same time, we knew what she bungled at trying to simplify too quickly. In this country, immigrants, legal or no, have a reputation for a work ethic that most entitled citizens, including Trump himself, would never touch. Kick out the people who are grateful to do thankless jobs and what good is it for any of us?

Because I'm not gifted with impeccable selections of speech on the fly, I tend to be more sympathetic when people, who normally do harmonize with their favorable character, stick their foot in their mouth and realized their attempts to simplify have to be explained with a lot more complexity once they've smeared it. I replay a lot of bungled conversations in my head. Sometimes even when I do well, I'll think of ten better ways to say it later. Words can have a powerful effect on our reactions and emotions, but I agree when free speech, hate speech or not, is protected. Words themselves might incite a lot of strong things, but I believe that the listener, the consumer, is ultimately responsible for their actions, that words are not actions unless they directly threaten to escalate (I'm going to kill you) or incite violence (we will meet here to kill you). I don't know about you, but I want to know who hates me. I don't want these people, disgruntled, silenced, sitting in basements, stirring a bitter stew that will hit me without warning. I think oppressing speech is doing more towards encouraging violence than just being disturbed by vitriol. 

That being said, communication of my ideas is very important to me, not that everyone fall in love with everything I say and do. When we speak out, we must accept that people will react, but the consequences of reacting violently are illegal and a crime and you can't blame words alone-- only your own immaturity towards the manifestation of your reactions. I certainly encourage people to counter hate speech with rebuttals and logic whenever possible-- I envy speakers like Jordan Peterson, Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins, and even comedians like Joe Rogan. Even if you don't like their message or what I'm about to say, it's hard to deny that they deliver their messages brilliantly and with a practiced ease I envy. I struggle to get better at public speaking, but I think I would love to say things that such talented people could deliver with their focus and force of reason. I suppose as a woman, it's taboo to say that I would want a man to speak my words for me. I might also pick Christina Hoff Summers, a choice feminist whose levelheadedness I also envy, would work too. What these people have in common-- they claim responsibility for their words, grow with new information, and don't really lose their cool even when they raise their voice. They survive Q&As without dissolving into incoherent frustration.

Even explaining that, it still seems lacking to sufficiently encompass my choices as a writer. It is difficult to summarize, but words are a responsibility with consequences that can be justified, right or wrong, but how do we choose a medium to explore them?

Again, why fantasy, when I clearly have a love for understanding reality and have a solid basis in it? Well, the whimsical outlet of fantasy allows me to explore the deeper concepts of light and dark through metaphor. Not good and bad, mind you, since moral concepts also have levels of societal acceptability and individual experience. Often, there's a general consensus of what we know we can or can't be punished for, but individual mentality or even mob mentality often kicks against where 'morals' attempt to oppress people concerning even the use of their own bodies. And yes, personally, even when it's widely accepted to be moral or immoral, we come up with logical exceptions that bear consideration. It's extremely difficult for people to voice unpopular opinions, so we all need to find a playing field where we can test those doubts, fears, and curiosities. Non-fiction, where my life is concerned, has too many consequences for being tactlessly earnest.

It would be nice if adulthood was a magical escape from childhood dilemmas, but as an adult, I'm often pulled back into the lessons of my immediate past. I know both what it is like to be a child that had been through hell that some adults have not and to be an adult who is often disregarded as childish (I laugh freely, often and girlishly even at 37). I write adult fiction right now because my childhood just isn't kid friendly. I do use whimsical themes to bridge the gap but these adult themes do resonate with my real battles from adolescence.

Some people could make the argument that it is inappropriate for characters of a certain age to run into certain situations. Unfortunately, it's an uncomfortable truth for some of us. It's not a mark of how little your parents care or love you because it IS a sign of love and trust for them to let you explore the big bad world and hope you come back, alive, when you need a respite. The world does not and cannot protect us from the curiosities of reality. Nor should it. It should definitely have laws to protect against harm and it does, ones that at best will change as the world needs it to. What stands is that a child can and does get beat down by adult things. Telling a child that they can't possibly understand insults, abuses and raises their vitriol when they are certain they are not just living in it, but are one of the new demons who come to poke and ridicule them. Disbelief only reinforces it.

And yes, there are also attention-seeking predators, even children, who see that a tortured soul draws the sort of attention they want and mimics it insincerely. One thing I love about a Jordan Peterson video I watched is that he doesn't believe in 'erring on the side of caution'. (video here -- I encourage you to watch it and form your own impressions. Just taking what I say on faith is like playing a game of telephone. Always go from the source in case my interpretations carry a bias.)When he suspects that a patient is asking him to cater some demand of uniqueness with a privilege that they simply feel entitled to but doesn't stand to help them to pretend, he calls them out on it. He admits that sometimes he is wrong, but shows that it is imperative that we test the resolve of people's demands, to see if they are simply trying to mold others or truly find themselves. As a psychologist, he has seen that entertaining people's delusions does not help them learn how to grow as themselves. It's a very tough topic to discuss and he manages to find the words very eloquently. I even appreciate that he shows his thoughtfulness and consideration as he attempts to arrive at his answer. He's not just reading off of a script or parroting a false ego.

Diverting from the technical sides of my choice, I feel a kinship with harsh realities and the possibilities of fantasy. Life isn't just receiving our scars, but bearing them, even showing them in the sunshine. We can assemble armies or meet magical creatures, attune to our inner child or come to terms with being an adult. Even when we explore ourselves through our work, it doesn't assure hidden agendas, at least not intentionally. I've heard people make rather nefarious leaps of accusation-- underage sexuality? Pedophilia! Women writers detailing sex? Turns men gay (and I'm talking heterosexual sex even; apparently we force male readers to resume the stance of a woman to trick them into lusting for the male body. I couldn't even make this shit up)! Graphic calculated violence? Serial killer in the making!

I've always been a firm believer that saying it/playing it is often enough. Playing the games, watching the movies, reading the books, is often the satisfaction of the curiosity not the catalyst to demand more. When I write controversial topics, it is not done in secret delight, always the representative of my desires. I write things that make me downright uncomfortable. I can write something that titillates me and something that disgusts me in the same day even. Of course, those attention-seeking predators I mentioned before often look to call these the catalysts of their murder sprees, rapes, etc. Why? Because we create excuses for addictions, heinous acts, absolve people as brave for doing bad things and 'redeeming themselves', a culture that CREATES visibility for monstrous acts, encouraging people to abuse themselves and others so they can earn relevance for just doing what decent people do invisibly. Writers see this and make them into believable villains. Whether it humanizes or dehumanizes them, whether it's right or wrong is moot. We should continue to piss each other off, entertain each other, release words in ways that make people become curious, challenged. Do you back people up into a wall and tell them they're not cornered if they climb? Is there a rope, a ladder, a trampoline? Is the wall tall or short? Do you stop your pursuit or do they have to worry you're concealing a knife to drive into their back when they turn away? Presentation is everything.

Fantasy just aligns with the way I want to present my ideas. I'm not writing a book on psychology because it can't always be clinically accurate or documented in studies. There's a lot we don't understand about the brain and how it works. What other place could I bring to life the monsters under the bed, the monsters you mistake for friends, the smiles that hide the villains? It's not the only genre I will use, but right now, I'm in love with the way I can build characters and plots and puzzles and worlds and creatures, to lay color to the concepts and ideas around me? How else can I bridge the muddy transitions of childhood and adulthood with any clarity or understanding? How else can I mystify romance and horrify violence, overblowing it but making it logical to the landscape?

Fantasy is whimsy, fantasy is darkness, fantasy is triumph and tragedy.

On that note, I really can't wait to see this Welcome to Marwen movie. I'm not a very emotional consumer, but I teared up a bit just on the trailer. It does align with themes I work with and even inspired this post. One day, I hope to build up the scale of ways to present my own ideas. It's not unusual for writers to see movies in their head while creating, but I'm also well aware that a screenplay is a different creature than a novel (hey, did I mention I'm a screenplay editor? So it seems like a logical course to try it out someday). You can't dream too big.

The Distance and the Intimacy: The Love Affair with Writing

We're all consumers before we are creators, no matter how much our parents/caregivers might have insisted the massive dumps in our diapers were a sight to behold. Learning faces through the blur of first sight, hearing every strange noise to prickle the ear-- assuming we're born with all senses intact, that is. (Perhaps this is why some deprivation of sense is fascinating to me, but I'll get to that.)

What do I mean by distance and intimacy? Well, not all of us really know that our 'passions' have longevity so there's a time issue involved. Sometimes, and for long periods of time, we may break up with our passions, cheat on them, all the while pining for them. Sometimes a particularly sensitive piece creates a different phenomenon of distance/intimacy. Sometimes we need to blubber and roll in the juices and sometimes we need to be the harsh logical judge of it. We get through the passion parts and then poke, edit, play, indulge, reject, accept-- it's 12 stages of grief and euphoria, but we each fill in the blanks. I've said before-- ebb and flow and some of the best writing I've seen uses the push and pull of development, to align with the very real state of many struggles. Something the characters move on their motivations, sometimes things have to happen to them. Do we take the omniscient look and hash it out in great detail or do we limit it to experience the spotty details alongside the character? Neither one is king when it comes to depth. From any perspective, we can get uncomfortably close or coldly analytical.

There are a lot of aspects to me, for one, that people try to explain. It's especially trendy these days to assume to speak for others, even when the subject is more than capable. I suppose you could narrow down my attitudes to trauma, whether it be my sexuality, my draw towards art and writing, my lifestyle. You could correlate things simply, but there's more to that history than I will ever feel comfortable writing or explaining, especially when it pertains to the 'stressors' outside of myself, the people that did and still can terrorize me if I step over the line. I will not give them that piece of fame, to ride on whatever failures or successes I have in my life with association. If you have bogeymen in your life, give them to your fictions. A memoir is the thing to write if you outlive them all.

That being said, there are 'other' things. Things I stopped trying to understand, things I use and learn to master as much as possible and I don't aim to be mysterious with those so I'll describe this the best I can without using labels that might give you false impressions.

I've struggled with neuropathic issues from a very early age. For no apparent reason or stressor, I've temporary lost my sight or hearing or sense of touch, or had them 'heightened' to unbearable and painful levels. No amount of searching ever gave me answers and in most cases, I was too afraid to tell. I had some wonderful teachers along the way that saw me melting down in my confusion and helped me, no questions, no words. Sometimes it was just a space to cry in their office, sometimes it was me interrupting to go to the bathroom. The counselor, for some reason, really liked me, even gave me her home phone number and told me to call if I needed it, made sure all my teachers knew that I could leave class any time I needed to (on days I bothered to show up, I didn't leave class at all-- kind of an all-or-nothing when it comes to showing up). It's not that these people thought I was suicidal, but looking back, I think they knew my 'other' better than books or doctors had any grasp of back then. They also saw my potential. Another thing I couldn't see without hindsight, but learned to trust some people when they said good things about me.

Because I don't see what's in front of me or, rather, rarely do. I see things more clearly looking back, sometimes beating myself up for how stupid or ineffective I was in the moment. I became adept at trying to recreate the person I wanted to be, to try to learn to be a person that can see the moment or even a little ahead, learn to anticipate the world around me. Somewhere in the invention of myself, I became a storyteller. I never saw a place for THAT (I never could get the taste for lying) in my life, but there was a pocket I'd stumbled on where worlds did wait. Despite all the characters and events happening over 'there', it could still be a lonely place, not a place of inside jokes and the things I could talk about with others who weren't familiar. So I wanted to find ways to show people. I was already building those places, learning to express through art and writing what I struggled to say.

An honest place, one I have trouble lying about too. It's not a place that can actually speak for my desires, doubts or fears, just a gathering ground from my journey in this world. And I don't have these fascinating stories of world travel, but I can simulate it through the means that I have. It's maddening, a bloom of chaos and beauty. It can be safe and warm or frigid and frightening. It affects moods that people can't see the reason for, and sometimes I don't even know why I feel or act the way I do. It can be a real bastard trying to recreate it for the sharing. Yeah, sometimes I thought about giving up because creation and using it to funnel what I don't really understand is never a safe place. It's erratic and it's not structured. Because of that, writing...

Writing holds structure or none at all. The only demand is what you intend for it. I wrote stories for school, but then I wrote stories in school when I was supposed to be doing something else. Just little stories. 'Born to Play Video Games' and 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Kitties'... (I loved the Turtles, but the idea of drawing humanoid cats was just so appealing.) I wrote poems when I fell in love with rhythm and rhyme. It was music and color in words alone. Alongside this passion, always came the impulse and whimsy of 'doodling'. I love that word too, doodling. So often it was said to me in an attempt to belittle it or guilt me for wasting time, but doodling and noodling about-- those things brought me closer to a feeling of rightness. Doodling has brought me closer to some of the most amazing people in my life-- my best friends, family, and my friend's children especially. No matter how much adulting pressures my drawing to be 'more', kids always give me this surreal sense of expertise I forget to see sometimes. They're not comparing me to 'masters' or ticking off all they've liked better; they're capable of just loving it for what it is. (Not unique to kids, by the way-- my best friends always seem to lift me up like this too. Also people who are terrible at lying, but are also likely to clam up if they don't want to hurt my feelings either.)

It's hard to say whether I can make my characters and worlds resonate the same way they do with me. I'm not someone who can see the hook, the blurb, the simplification of the big picture. My love affair with writing and creating is selfish but it wants to be generous. It can feel superficial, it can feel overly deep. Courageous and cowardly. I can't lie, but sometimes I can omit or gloss over, defense mechanisms for survival and a habit I try to break.

I write because... it's too big to contain. Because otherwise it can leak out where I don't want it to. Just like my neuropathic struggles, it's not about the cure, but working with the intuitive treatment of it. Writing is often a sensitive organism, sometimes needing compassion, sometimes needing tough love. Raising kids-- much the same. You treat every kid the same and they lose sight of what could motivate them to improve or change. I don't discipline my nephews the same, nor reward them the same and when they notice this, I explain the circumstances, let them see the logic (the punishment fits the crime and so on). Almost always, a punishment or a reward merits a discussion, but there is also a lot of time for play, contemplation, or things being what they will be. I never wanted to be a parent, but like most labels, it's not important. These little guys grew on me and the one thing I want to give them are tools to maneuver through an unfair, unsympathetic, confusing world.

I write because it's not an exaggeration to say they saved me. I call them my little heroes. I knew it would never be fair for a human being to inherit my issues, but I did need 'new life' to remind me of the one the world tried to beat out of me. I did find myself and it wasn't just through me. It was all the things they helped me see-- family/friends, writing, drawing, music. I didn't need to 'have kids' to learn to look ahead. I just needed to open myself to the 'other' things.

When a Line is Open to Scrutiny

"Always remember, someone's effort is a reflection of their interest in you."

You see those one-liner quotes all the time that SCREAM 'guilt trip' everywhere these days. You instantly realize there's no way to offer a rebuttal outside of a lengthy objection.

So from the first, this quote ignores the reality of 'obligation.' It's difficult, if not impossible, to fit in every priority in your life into a day, of course. Sometimes it's hard to fit anything in for months. Your obligations are your efforts, first and foremost. Some relationships take extra steps, extra time, and not remembering to check in on people just isn't a mark of their value in your life.

As a writer and artist, my days are gobbled quick. I have certain 'routines' that I go to the effort of keeping up. When I hear my nephews awake in the morning (usually the sound of a keyboard or a bathroom door), I get up and poke my head around the corner with a cheerful 'good morning'. Breaks are often those times where I wander away from my work to eat, catch a nap, research something I feel my knowledge is weak on, poke my head around a door to see if my nephews want to talk or eat a meal with me. I love them and they are a priority, but there won't be many 'fun days' because the greater effort pulls me away from critical points in the process.

"It only take a few seconds to text 'hi'." Psh, you don't know a writer very well. My 'texts' are rarely less than a paragraph. And I'm a 3 AM kind of thinker sometimes, so you tell me how most people feel about a 'hi' at 3 AM with their notification volume still high.

My 'interest' in you is always something I will meet halfway. I let my friends kidnap me with zero notice and largely because I have the 'every three months' kind of friends. We're adults-- jobs, obligations, and I can tell you that a 'lack of effort' creates an 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' situation to the max. So I have to wonder, when I see a statement that needy, what are the expectations? Is there a demand for more time (which we'd all love to have) or a need to be entertained? No, I don't know what it is, but it certainly doesn't speak for people who have realized that chasing a dream requires sacrifice to things like a social life or a presence.

Admittedly, I am the person that doesn't contact first. I do feel some guilt about that, but there is also the humility of not rubbing it in people's faces that flexibility is something I get to enjoy at this stage in my life. My friends often have scheduled jobs, children (that understandably come first), and obligations I endeavor not to add additional pressure to with my own interest in them. However, this 'flexibility' is given the myth of a 'free' lifestyle when there is very little freedom in the pressure to be accountable to your work and yourself. Facing the same attitudes when I did college online, let me strengthen this concept for you. When I started college, I made a note of about 30 names that I saw consistently start and move through the courses with me. One or two started disappearing after months at a time. When I graduated after two years? Three names. I was also a consistently top scoring student and the C students were often baffled that the course minimum requirements of 2-3 hours a day plus 'doing all the work' made them average students. Even with a part-time job, I was putting in at least 6-8 hours of time towards my daily projects. Flexibility is not something casual attitudes will handle with success because many people go into it with the attitude that it will be 'easy'. What it means is, that instead of the standard full time job of 8 hours a day, I can home in on those 3 hour productivity bursts spread through at least three periods throughout my 24 hour day, to maximize the output and... to sacrifice 'days off' or even 'relaxing evenings'.

So no, effort is not the result of interest. I often start working with a lack of interest, just the energy and the understanding that momentum builds from a starting point so I can't always do what needs to be done with a full tank of enthusiasm. I often take small pleasure in finding what the people I am interested in are doing by passively browsing their social media, making a comment here and there. I always have interest for them and even a longing to see them, but it's also precious to me when we just happen to run into each other and we're free.

Right now, I'm not. I greet my nephews, who most of the time have me and only me around, but I am also a passive constant until they feel a spontaneous, low-effort urge to poke their head around my door. Drafting 160K words was something I knew would bite into a couple of weeks of focus. That's not to say people can't stop by, but it's not the time of luxuries where a 'hi' is good to go in becoming a four hour long chat session or a plan is organic to what I need to do first. I might even be quieter than usual because my brain will keep going to my work (that I can't talk about and have make any sense) or... I'll babble on some nonsensical inspiration, completely excited that I've found something to talk about. I'm at peace with this place-- forward-moving and interesting. However, 'effort' outside of it is a passing thought, a poke around the door into your life and a step back into the things I know I can't put off without regret.

Of course, I don't want my friends to feel like they are the only ones putting in all of the effort, but if they make me a priority, I give them the benefit of my best return effort. This is where I'm at. And maybe I'm a little dreamy, hoping for a day when I can be the one sailing into people's lives to whisk them away on adventures, but in the meantime, you're forewarned. This is what I need to do now. And what if there's no tomorrow? Sorry, I'm just not big on YOLO philosophies or the idea that you have to cling to people for fear of not having those guarantees.

Before my mom passed away, I got to spend one amazing day with her in the sunshine, give her her birthday present early, a skull bracelet I crocheted. When she was admitted to the hospital, I got that bracelet back when I left with a bag of her things the day she left her body behind. My last day with  her was spontaneous, devoid of the fears of what might come and I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't go through life wondering what my last memory will be of you nor what yours might be of me. The last two years of her life, effort amounted to a message from her asking if I wanted to come over, me saying yes, us watching game shows and talking about our lives-- the books I was writing, things we read in a magazine article, hilarious commercials from the 1920s. Never once did she guilt me about effort or entertainment or availability. As much as her and I have put each other through, I lost my soulmate when I lost her. It's impossible to tell me that any relationship worthwhile requires enormous effort. Perhaps I am perpetually single because compromise just doesn't fit into my priorities though. Work, mastery, skill requires effort. Relationships are where your heart goes to breathe and will always work best when done naturally.

Also, don't guilt your loved ones with cheap memes. Pour your heart out to their face. It denotes a lack of courage and a lack of creativity to do otherwise. I don't know who that quote was made for when I saw it(not for me, but I could take a guess) but I guarantee if you care that much, you're going about it the wrong way. Unless resentment and misery is the aim. Then you're just being toxic.

Annnnnd if you ever wonder WHY writers are verbose, it's because we know that even a well-thought out work leaves room for interpretation. We just endeavor to close up the gaps a bit more each time. It's a process.

Do You Even Bracket, Bro?

One thing I provide as a public service is my ability to butcher popular slang and quotes on the regular. However, my cringe-worthy post heading has another purpose: utilizing all those little keys that aren't as worn on my silicone keyboard cover.

Not talking hot key shortcuts, function keys, the arrow keys or even the poor redundant Tab key that fell out of use when word processor formatting favored auto indents. Nope, I'm talking... *whomp whomp* brackets. I guess there's no mystery there...

It seems to be a personal mission to torment myself with making certain challenges towards communicating my ideas. UnNamed was about the concealment of names mostly (and the creative use of pronouns and descriptors in absence of names) and UnSung is no exception.

Aiden is mute. I am not. I don't pretend to know what it's like to be so this was not a book based on an issue I can relate to. However, I do know what it's like to desire to communicate or the exhaustion of that effort leading to isolation. In Aiden's case, he finds that his own efforts do not go unrewarded. He greets all of those moments of breakthrough with exuberance. He finds two unique ways to communicate with two of the women in his life, one through a language he created through music, one through a magical link.

Before I go into what this has to do with brackets, this wasn't an attempt to mask a disability with a superpower. That's not what this is, since the two people still aren't going to afford him the same sort of 'voice' that people who can speak have. Aiden still finds the limitations of these 'break-through' abilities and still endures the frustration of having to depend on someone's ability to want to understand him at all. As a point of reference, my granddad turns off his hearing aid when my grandma starts arguing with him, causing her hurt, frustration, rage and impotence with communicating-- that he can just 'turn off' when it doesn't suit him is always a one-sided solution that never benefits her. It would be like learning ASL to debate with a deaf person, then closing your eyes or looking away when you're done. It's worse than hanging up the phone on someone because you are right there still, negating someone with an advantage they can't use.

So, brackets. When Aiden uses his language, I knew I wanted to deviate from just italics. While his 'thoughts' are still italicized, italics are also easy to miss when spread out in a conversation and since he is speaking through these thoughts, it deserved something as important as a quote. Not these ( ). No, parentheses are a side note, often serving the purpose of injecting a secondary idea. Not these guys either { }. I'm never quite sure where those brackets are used but they're too busy. Quotation marks are clean and quick so I wanted Aiden's voice to have a similar simplicity. I dug these guys out from my high school days: ⎡⎦

Yes! L brackets! These remind me of the ¡! deal you get with exclamations in español. As you can tell, I know my way around the optional symbols on a keyboard. Other favorites are © ™ and … Yes, yes, you can make an ellipsis with Option + : (colon) on a Mac (because three periods are more work than two simultaneously pressed keys maybe). Here's the thing-- I also have to make sure that the choose-your-own-font capabilities of an ebook doesn't warp my precious L brackets into some OTHER bracket or worse-- the 404 equivalent of character nullification: the random wing-ding symbol. And no, I don't have that stupid rectangle's hot key combo memorized. I'm rather partial to this choice so I will conduct ridiculous amounts of research to make it happen.

I suppose it would be my designer training that makes me so enthusiastic about utilizing fonts to communicate effectively in a novel. No matter how complex my ideas are in planning, I always stand by the mission to deliver these ideas with all of those complexities combed smooth for sharing. I'm not going to be using ASCII art (although you should do yourself a favor and see how awesome this endeavor is), but I do work to be sure that my punctuation and style choices are the best choice possible.

Even if you don't use special characters outside of the basic set in the body of your writing itself, I bet that many people, from time to time still end up pulling one of these: 

--~~{@ TITLE @}~~--

You can't deny that a nice little bit of dressing for those headers isn't at least a little bit tempting. There use to be some serious excitement when you told people those look like roses. That was before the excitement of using eggplant emojis as penises. It's okay if you don't remember...

 And that's what matters most.