2018 - My Year of Reading

I’ve been thinking about my blog a lot lately, about how neglected it has been. It is sad and lonely without me, and in need of a little update I think. Many thanks to those who still visit.

I still consider myself a writer, but I am so much more. I am writing, on and off (I never completely stop), but nothing major, nothing large. I am mostly writing poetry and have been attempting to put together enough for a collection. In fact, I had finally motivated myself to making a goal to submit a manuscript to Five Islands Press - a spectacularly reputable publisher of poetry - during their submission period in November, only to discover at the eleventh hour that they had decided to “retire” this year with the manuscripts they already had and were closed for submissions now and forevermore. I admit, this bummed me out big time and I did all the usual pulling of hair, woe is meing, what is the point of it all etc etc... it wasn’t pretty. But then I remembered there were other things I enjoyed doing and kept doing them.

I’ve been making a lot of art. I LOVE colour. Colours. All of them. I have been learning new ways of making art, using new techniques, new products. I am quite in love with art jornalling right now and am forever trying to be more spontaneous and messy with it...I can be a bit controlled in my approach - a bit of a perfectionist, really - which is weird, because as a writer, I have always been a pantser and never a planner. If you are a writer you will understand this and probably swing more one way than the other.

Anyway, you’re here for my “Year of Reading” update, so here you go...

I gave myself what I thought was an achievable goal of reading 60 Books this year. Due to a rather large amount of lethargy and a particularly bad winter with my ongoing depression I didn’t quite manage it. I read, but much less than usual. My memory being what it is (or isn’t!) lately, luckily I record my reading on goodreads.

There were some great latecomers in the last quarter of 2018. Wintering by Krissy Kneen, A Superior Spectre by Angela Meyer, and The Fragments by Toni Jordan. As usual, I read quite a bit of poetry and sought inspiration in the pages of some great art books. I finally read Robin Hobb’s The Fitz and The Fool trilogy and I was absolutely blown away. I cried buckets. Another amazing standout was Trent Dalton’s Boy Swallows Universe. Simply spectacular. I devoured every single scrumptious word of it. Trust me, you need to read this book. Honestly. Just do it!

Another change in my world is the very late diagnosis of an autism spectrum disorder. A short while back it would have been called Aspergers, but my diagnosis came after the latest changes to the terminology. The diagnosis didn’t come as any surprise to me, I sought it out after all, knowing it was more than likely given my son’s autism and my lifelong struggles with most everything, but especially social interactions and sensory issues. I have always, always, been weird. Funnily enough, even with the lack of surprise and the welcoming of the diagnosis, it took me almsot four years to settle into it. Almost fifty years of life pre diagnosis, takes some time to look back on, analyse, and assimilate. So many aha moments. So many what ifs. So many events and incidents. But I’m here now, and I’m getting a handle on who I am. 

So I’m thinking of making a bit of a change to this blog - or perhaps even starting a new one on a different platform. Rest assured there will always be books, for books were my first friends and teachers, but I will be adding some art and craft and conversation. Join me, won’t you?

As for 2019, I have dedicated it, the year of the kindle. I have so many unread books gathering dust (haha!) on my kindle that I think it’s high time I read them. So, for the duration of the next twelve months that is my plan. Like every other year, I will read as many books as possible, but only from my kindle. If I absolutely ’must’ read a new release during 2019, I will buy a digital copy of it, otherwise all new physical books can wait until 2020.  I can see already that I will miss reading poetry, but perhaps to fill this need I will endeavour to write more. Time will tell. Enjoy your new years celebrations. Health and happiness to you all.

Review - Are You Seeing Me?

I was given an electronic review copy of this book many months ago. Unfortunately, due to some personal problems and lack of time-management or a concrete deadline, I have been remiss in not posting this review until now. Apologies to the Author and Publisher.

I was such a fan of Kindling that I was automatically interested in reading Are You Seeing Me? I was not disappointed. Groth has created a story with heart. Family is the main focus, but in particular, forgiveness.

Justine and Perry are twins. Unknown to Justine, their father has made previous arrangements for Perry, who has a disability, to move into assisted living when he reaches adulthood. Unfortunately their father dies just before the twins 18th birthday, leaving Justine to follow through on his plans, which she is reluctant to do. She takes Perry to America for a holiday when they are 19, with the secondary motive of having him ’meet’ their mother - who left when they were four years old. Justine doesn’t want Perry to move into 'Fair Go' and is trying to arrange an alternative future for him. Perry wants wants Justine to have a 'normal' life. He wants her to be happy. He thinks the only way she can be free, and live the full life he wants her to have, is for him to leave. He is especially trying to 'cope' with things that might happen on their trip because he is worried that Justine will use any problems he might have as an excuse to keep him with her.

The author's use of the twin's father’s letters and journal add an extra layer to this dual narrator story. This pertinent back story flows naturally into the fabric of the linear story without interrupting the narrative. The theme of independence is a big one. This is something most parents want for their children, something that sometimes seems impossible for children with disabilities. The truth is, though, that no one is ever truly independent. When faced with difficulty, we all need someone’s support, regardless of how capable we are to function in the world as independent adults. Regardless of our ability or inability to care for ourselves, regardless of diagnosis.

Perry has two special interests; earthquakes and mythological sea creatures. During their trip he predicts an earthquake and his prediction comes true. Justine is hurt during the earthquake. She isn’t breathing. Perry, rather than melting down in this high stress situation and failing to function, revives Justine using CPR and gets the help of a stranger to get her to the hospital. These are things he would normally have problems with, things Justine would never expect him to be able to deal with on his own, but he does. He even calls his Mum to let her know what has happened. He had earlier found out about Justine's plans and the Skype calls she has been having with their mother. Not surprisingly, Perry is able to recognise the feelings of overwhelm that his mother experienced when they were young, feelings that so 'disabled' her that she chose to leave her children.

Perry has far more self-awareness and empathy than those around him can understand. Though Justine says, on multiple occasions throughout the book, that he is capable, I’m unconvinced in her belief. She seems unaware of just how capable he can be until he is put to the test. Perry can be calculated and selfless, he can imagine lives and scenarios in the future and how they will differ without him being there, being a problem - his sister and her boyfriend for instance. If I was to criticise the book at all, it would be the spiel that Justine uses to explain her brother’s behaviour to strangers. I don’t particularly like the rote nature of it or how often and how quickly she jumps into it. Perhaps the writer wants the reader to be annoyed with her. I certainly was.

There is a difference with being independent and being interdependent. I learnt this while studying Disability Work. Independence suggests you do everything for yourself without the need for assistance. Interdependence is the skill of being able to ask for the help you need when you need it. I believe this is far more important. Perry proved he is capable of doing just that. He saved his sister’s life. She has to respect and admire him for that. He is not the ’little’ brother she’s always taken care of anymore, he’s much more than that. He’s a man.

First Day

For those of you who don't know, my youngest son J has autism. We've been fortunate to have him mainstreamed and funded throughout his primary education. Today is his first day at secondary school and, after hearing the principal welcome the students and introduce his teaching staff, we parents (those of us who stayed) were more or less told to skedaddle. So I said goodbye, told him where I would meet him after school and restrained myself from kissing him.

I headed to the door feeling mildly confident that he would enjoy his day. I took one last look back, hoping to catch his eye and give him a wave and he had disappeared. I scanned the rows of students but couldn't see him anywhere. Puzzled, I turned to the front of the room where the teachers still stood and there he was, standing in front of his 'learning mentor'. Not more than five minutes before I had reminded him that if at any time he was feeling sad, worried or lonely he could always go and talk to his learning mentor. I'm thinking he wasn't feeling as 'okay' about his first day as he had made me believe. Still, I'd done all I could do to make this transition as comfortable as I could for him.

He was originally enrolled to go to another school with a student population of 1400, my decision based solely on the fabulous integration program they had there. As soon as I realised we wouldn't be getting any help from the Government I found another school for him. Today he has joined around 149 other year 7s at a brand new school, with well-planned buildings and a fresh new teaching staff. We have visited the school a couple of times prior to today and spoken with the principal and a couple of the staff. I have put together a page of information and ideas to help J's teachers to better understand and help him. I can only trust that they will read it.

I'm at home now and feeling all kinds of emotions about this day and the years to come. I'm feeling apprehensive, proud, relieved; relieved that the build up to this day is over and he's finally there and proud of all the hard work he has put in to get here. But I'm also feeling ripped-off and angry on J's behalf. We had to reapply for funding at the end of last year and we were knocked back. We appealed the decision and were again knocked back. The hard work we've put in over the last seven years (nine, if we count the two years of early intervention at the autism school before that) is just the foundation; the next six years are even more important to J developing the skills he'll need to be able to get and keep a job and be as independent as he can possibly be as an adult with autism. Having this extra, vital support denied to him now is like a kick in the guts. I'm still pursuing the Government for funding. I have written to the Minister for Education. I won't be giving up.