Good morning, Readers!

It'a rare Friday post!

Today happens to be a very special day.  Why?  Well...

Mum,

You have always been there for me.  I know I wasn't the easiest child.  No, I didn't party, and I didn't get drunk or do drugs at all, but I was a loner and depressed and I know I worried you a lot.  And then there were all those times I ran out into the scrub bare foot... You were right to get mad at me about that.  It's a wonder I'm still alive really.

FYI kids, don't go running through the Australian scrub with no shoes on.  There are snakes and spiders that can kill you quick smart.

Whenever I did anything creative, you always treated it like it was something special, even when it was utter crap.  When I started sharing my writing, you patiently listened to me reading out the first idiotic attempts at a story.  You smiled and told me it was wonderful.

You lied.  It wasn't.  But I appreciate it all the same.

Without your support I would never have felt confident enough to embark on this ridiculous quest of trying to become a full-time novelist.

Even now, when I'm a woman grown, I still love to hear you exclaim 'It's wonderful!'  Even if I don't think it is.  Even now, when I'm a woman grown, you there with your invisible pompoms cheering me on.

It means the world to me.

All those attempts you made to help me through a difficult adolescence, all those small praises, all the hugs and the giggles, the talks and the silences together mean the world to me.  I would not be here, and this happy, and this determined (bloody-minded?) without you.

I owe you the world.

I love you so much, and I am so grateful.

Someone upstairs did something right when they decided to put you in the world.

Happy Birthday, Mum.

I love you.

Sonia.

Good morning, Readers!

The above image has nothing to do with anything in today's post.  I just thought it was frakkin' hilarious!  Image courtesy of stumbleupon.com.

So, yesterday's blog got a wonderful discussion going.  Thanks you all for keeping it civil, even when you disagreed with me.  It's nice to see people behaving like adults!

A point was brought up by someone who agreed with my post, but cautioned against extremism.

My first thought was, well, duh.  Then I thought a little deeper and realised that, actually, yes.  I do need to make a distinction between your run-of-the-mill SJW (ie - normal folk who care about making the world a better place) and the extremists.  Now, while it is very unlikely that an extremist of the SJW nature is likely to actually turn terrorist, it's really not that unheard of (there have been some pretty horrific instances of domestic terrorism (destroyed labs etc) by some animal rights groups, for example).  That would be a very extreme outlier.

But there are extremists; from every movement and faction... even the good ones, guys.  Let's be honest.

I'm not talking about people who state their opinions definitively or defend their positions passionately, though they are often called extremists by the other party (femenazi, anyone?) merely for defending their position with passion, or even merely pointing out an action or phrase that was particularly thoughtless.

With people throwing the word extremist around as if everyone who disagrees with them is one, it's hard to know what extremism for any cause is.

In my experience, of course, the accusation of being an extremist is hurled at myself and other members of the feminist movement an awful lot (I note that it's my experience because that is my main social justice issue).  Any feminist, not matter how mild mannered, will be called a feminiazi at one point or another.  Probably repeatedly.  They will be dismissed as militant feminists.  All for pointing out that the wage gap is real, or something equally as benign.  Facts.  Apparently knowing them makes you an extremist.

I'm actually talking about the bullies.  It seems like such a weak word to describe the horror these people willingly and gleefully inflict on others.

Don't do it, okay?  I know that whatever cause you have going is very close to your heart.  It ignites your passion like a spark starting a bush fire.  I get it.  Trust me.  I get it.  I'm down here fighting my battles too.  At the moment, I'm with the countless men and women fighting to have women recognised as people; to have our reproductive and health decisions be our own, to be paid what we're worth... and to let the world know that our worth is equal to a man's.  I'm fighting to end gendered violence, which disproportionately affects women; women of colour especially.  I'm battling to for trans and LGBTQ+ rights, because they're women too and deserved to be treated with respect.

Granted, I'm doing it in small ways for now; lending my voice to the growing number of people seeing reason, writing letters to the people who make decisions, and sticking up for myself whenever I face sexism in my life.  It's almost an hourly occurrence, by the way.

I get how hard and frustrating and scary it is.  I know fighting the good fight is exhausting and people being morons can make you lose your temper sometimes.

None of this is an excuse for extremist behaviour.  None.  Of.  It.

No doxxing, no threatening to do harm, no actually doing harm, no swatting, no harassment or name calling.  Just, stop.  If you cannot form an argument without resorting to any of these things, then your argument is not as strong as you pretend and you need to do some serious re-evaluating about your position.

If you are fighting for respect by disrespecting others, you've already lost your battle.  You see, the minute you devolve into threatening, doxxing, harming, harassment or name calling you're no longer one of the good guys.

You're a villain.

Even if you're fighting for a good cause, the minute you become a bully (an extremist), you become a villain.

Writing note: If you want a sympathetic villain, make her fight for a just cause, but too extreme; she's trying to save lives, but ends up blowing half the city up or something.  Those kinds of villains are always the most fascinating.

I know it's easier said than done.  My blood tends to run hot when I get on issues that matter to me - Celtic Studies, Writing, Feminism...  When I'm challenged on any of these by people who, to my mind, are being wilfully ignorant I lose my temper quickly.  I have been guilty of hurling insults at people in the past.

Now I try to walk away before I hit breaking point.  I find a heavy bag and pound it for a bit.  i go for a run.  I cry in private.

You know, whatever it takes to not be one of those people.

So in yesterday's post advocating for being a SJW (because fighting for social justice, whoo!) I was NOT in any way, shape or form advocating we all run out in the streets to beat on one another.  There is a line that should not be crossed.

Clear as mud?

I have work to do now.  Have a great weekend.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Today, I am going to talk a little about SJWs, and how nonsensical trying to use the title Social Justice Warrior to malign people is.  It is, in essence, the stupidest (non) insult ever imaginable.

Before I get into the technicalities of why it is such a stupid insult, can we first take a moment to ponder what kind of Orwellian nightmare we have made for ourselves where fighting for social justice is considered a bad thing?  Since when was the justice made a curse word?

Just sit on that a moment.

Really think about it.

There are real people out in the world actively, loudly, proudly declaring themselves in opposition to social justice.

THERE ARE REAL LIVE PEOPLE WHO OPENLY ADMIT TO WORKING AGAINST JUSTICE.

It's like the worst possible comic book villain.  You know, the one who is evil for evil's sake?  The one who openly admits to be working for the side of evil (and isn't bat shit insane the way The Joker is)?  The one we all find eye-rollingly unbelievable?

They actually exist.

Think about that.

Think.

Are you depressed yet?  Lost faith in the species?

Yeah...

Okay.  Now many arguments I've heard for using SJW as a pejorative is that they are talking specifically about the "Twitter Activists" or people like them who do nothing but sign online petitions and spam Facebook and Twitter with articles and memes and goodness knows what else.  They claim that people using SWJs as an insult are talking about the fools who don't actually lift a finger to help their cause except to hit that "retweet" button.

Except here's the thing, even doing something so apparently flippant as retweeting a link is helping.

How?

Sunlight.  It is throwing light onto an issue that people may not be aware of; an issue that would create outrage in any person who isn't psychotic and completely lacking in empathy.  The sharing of information is vital to getting the situation to change.  How can a problem be fixed if no one knows there's a problem?

There is also considerable scepticism about the effectiveness of online petitions.  That kind of scepticism is healthy, actually, and I encourage that kind of critical thinking.  It might just find a better way to get things done.  Except most the people shooting down online petitions aren't contributing to finding a better way.  They're just shooting the platform down for the sake of shooting it down.

And there is considerable proof that petitions do work:  Granted, they're for relatively small things like freeing suffering circus animals rather than huge institutional changes.  But even the small things matter, and in the grand scheme of things, a lot of small changes all rolled in together makes for massive changes over all.

Also, even if petitions didn't work, they do the same thing as that retweet button - they shed light on issues that people would otherwise be unaware of.  Sunlight is a disinfectant.

But wait!  Other people use SJWs to mean a different group of people. people who annoyingly inject their politics into everything they say and do.  You can't have a normal conversation with them without them bringing up how that rape joke was super inappropriate.  So annoying.

No, no, SWJs actually mean the people who claim they're for social justice, but are actually out to only get a one-up for their particular group/subculture/posse and they tear down everyone else.

No, SWJs are people who are extremists for the cause.

No, they're extremists for the cause, but only online.

No, no, they're... they're... they're what exactly?

It seems everyone has a definition for what a SJW is, and no one really knows what it means or how to use it.  In fact, it's one of those terms that people will throw at someone for pretty much any reason whatsoever.

From what I've seen, when someone calls someone else a SJW in an attempt to insult them, they're almost literally saying, "Hey, you're infringing on my ability to be a complete arsehole, and I don't like it."

Now lets look at the insult itself.  The words.

According to my Google-fu, Social is:

Doesn't sound especially egregious to me.

Justice is:

Even better!  I'm liking this!

Okay, okay.  I'm being a bit facetious.  Social Justice is:

Nope.  Still not  a bad thing.

Moving swiftly on.

Warrior is:

Brave.  A warrior is brave.  And experienced.  A fighter.

Where, exactly, is the insult in any of these words?  Clue: there isn't any.

The ironic use might hold some weight, if anyone could decide what, exactly, is actually meant by the ironic use.  It's a million different things to a million different people.

It's not an insult.  Not in the slightest.

In fact, it's a label to be proud of.

So fight the good fight, SJWs.  I'll be right there with you, wondering how on earth equality, peace, freedom, and opportunity could ever be considered wrong, and never understanding why people fighting to make it happen could be considered bad.

I shake my head at you, humanity.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

My apologies for the terrible pun.  I'm just so excited!

So... yesterday I received the final formatted interior for Human.

It looks amazing.  Amazing.

I'm super excited about it.  I uploaded it to Createspace (my P.O.D. printer) first thing yesterday and spent the entire day combing through their online proof.  I spied a few little errors; a missing comma here, forgotten italics there.  They were fixed at the end of the day and sent back to the formatter to check that I didn't screw everything up horrifically.  Turns out, just a slight formatting slip up created by my changes.  They were quickly fixed and then I had the final format.

I uploaded it first thing this morning so I would have time to go through the onine proof once more.  I did it all, and now I'm just waiting for the file submission to go through.  Then I can order the physical proof.  And then start handing out advanced reading copies for people/papers/magazines to review.

Checking the online proof took literally all of my work day yesterday, so that left very little time to research who I should be sending A.R.C.s to and where, so that is still on my list.  A friend pointed me to at least one place I could send one to.  I'm still lost as to where to begin with this kind of thing.

I should probably also learn how to do a press release.

I'm so clueless.  Even after four published books.  I'm utterly clueless... Just ask my formatter!

Right, there is a lot to be going on with today.  I must dash.

First one the list, coffee.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, it was a pretty busy Saturday, this weekend!

The Amazing Flatmate had her birthday party Saturday night.  She organised the whole thing.  I'm feeling a bit of guilt about that, as I had wanted to organise something wonderful for her.  Alas, her work schedule meant that she couldn't really give me a time when she'd be free.  That makes for tricky organising, I tell you.  Ahhh...the life of a free-lancer in the film industry.

In any case, it meant that she organised it all herself.  There was still a tonne of work that needed doing, of course, and as amazing as she is, she couldn't do it all herself, so I spent all Saturday pretty much in the kitchen.  I needed a long nap afterwards, though it seems like I can't do anything without needing a long nap afterwards, these days.

(See also: symptoms of depression)

It was totally worth it.

What a fantastic night!  There were people!  Laughter!  Food!  Scotch (Thanks, Tom)!  So many people, so many good friends gathered in one place... You all make me feel better about the state of my species.  Thank you all so much for coming and for making Saturday night as wonderful as it was.  Between the two of us, the Amazing Flatmate and I know incredible people.

Of course, it was all very overwhelming and I required pretty much all of yesterday to recover.  I feel guilty.  I should have been tidying the kitchen yesterday, but I was just so bone weary.  I spent most of yesterday in bed, recovering.  In my defence, I crawled into bed well past my bed time Saturday night (actually, Sunday morning), and I was "on" for the whole night as I tried to be a good hostess and make sure everyone had something to drink and eat, and to talk to everyone who came.  I didn't quite manage to get around to everyone, I think, but I tried!

I should have been waiting on the birthday girl, who was also flitting around trying to be a good hostess and talk to everyone and make sure everyone had food and drink.  She forgot to feed herself in the process.  Do me a favour?  If you see her today, hand her a piece of fruit or something...

Still, it was a fantastic night, and I'm so glad everyone came.  I'm so happy it went well!

In the world of writing, I have almost finished transcribing Sky Road Walker from second person to first person.  It should hopefully be finished by this week.  Once that's done, I need to go through and divide the text into chapters and then start the real editing.  If I'm really lucky, I should have the book out to the first Beta Reader by the end of June.  If I'm really lucky.

I was worried that the book would be too long for the standard paperback format, but it's looking like it will be fine.  If it does prove to be too long by the end of it, I'll just make the paperbacks slightly larger than I already do.  It should all fit into one volume that way.  I have no idea when it might be released as of yet.  At this rate, it's looking like early next year.

As for Human, it's almost complete.  The formatting should be finished sometime this week.  Once I have the formatted file, I can upload it and order the physical proof.  I'm so excited to hold this book in my hand.  It's like I'm publishing for the first time all over again!  I'm fairly certain that there are few errors in this book... but I say that about every book.  This is why I find it hugely important to get the physical copy of a book.  I find it far easier to find errors in a physical copy than I can staring at a computer screen.

Once that's done, I just have to wait for the cover!  Yay!

I was thinking of handing out some A.R.C.s to people who might want to review the book.  I'm not sure where to start with that, as this is the first time I've done the advanced reading copy thing.  Does anyone know of any book bloggers or newspaper/magazine folk that might be open to reviewing the book?  I think I will be spending the majority of today l researching that.

Life news is rather plain.  There is some excitement, though!  I've been in contact with my equestrian archery trainer and will hopefully be out in the field to train soon.  I'm excited about that.

Lastly, I wanted to touch on Thursday's blog post (THIS one, in case you haven't read it yet).  Yesterday, in between resting and napping, I logged onto YouTube to catch up on my subscriptions.  I'm subscribed to a number of people on YouTube.  Most of them are my age or older.  A couple are young.  The Third Pew falls into this category.  He's young.  Very young.  He's also entertaining, funny and incredibly insightful.

This weekend, he uploaded this is the video:

In it he talks about the responsibility YouTubers have (do they have one?) to educate as well as entertain.  He talks about the same struggle I talked about on Thursday, except for him the struggle was not about accepting and learning to love his femininity (he's a dude.  Not that I know anything about his inner life, but I'm reasonably sure that struggle isn't really something he knows), it was about learning to accept and love his blackness.

He talks about previously rejecting his culture and language, wishing his skin was lighter and so on.

It broke my heart a little bit, mostly because he seems like such an awesome human being.

He also talked about representation, and the distinct lack of black representation in his particular community.  This is important.  It needs to be addressed.  It sucks that, at just eighteen years old, he has to consider his part in the presentation of black youth so deeply.  He should be able to be a normal kid doing normal silly kid stuff on YouTube.  You know, like white kids can.

I do hope that Nathan continues to vlog.  I think more black youth need to see black youth being their normal, intelligent selves instead of being assaulted by the horrifically skewed images of themselves as presented by the traditional media.

Representation matters.

And on that note, I'll leave you all to go practice Welsh!

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, I'm moving forward with the promised continuation of Tuesday's post.

Making peace with my "girly" side hasn't been easy for me.  I equated femininity with incompetence, weakness, vacuousness, and dullness.  Feminine women were silly, empty, unintelligent things, who also happened to be raging divas.

That was, at least, how I perceived them to be.

In my defence, that is often how they were portrayed in the media around me and young women seeking approval often actually behaved in that fashion, mistakenly thinking that is how they should behave in order to be seen as women (and therefore "correct") because of how women were portrayed in the media they consumed daily.  I saw it all the time.

I saw it in movies, portraying the beautiful, popular, hyper-feminine characters as unmitigated awful human beings obsessed with boys and looks and little else.  It's a stereotype oft repeated in film and in books.

It is a stereotype, I have learnt, that is entirely untrue.

Sure, some beautiful young women did and do coast by on their looks alone.  Sure, some of them were and are actually awful people.  However, the vast majority of beautiful young women were and are actually very intelligent, hard-working, sensible and, while unable to escape society's obsession with physical appearance, generally well-rounded.

And the vacuous, silly, horrible bully-type is not solely relegated to the hyper-feminine presenting women, either.  I've faced shocking amount of it from people the movies told me would be the more chill group.

I was not the only one who grew up thinking that hyper-feminine meant idiotic and mean, either.  I grew up surrounded by young women mimicking just that kind of behaviour in the hopes that they would be seen as feminine enough to gain approval.  I happen to know that much of it was an act.

Young women I knew to be otherwise intelligent people reduced themselves to simpering idiots in order to keep the boat from rocking, to appear non-threatening to those they desired approval from, to conform.  It turned into some ridiculous self-feeding loop.

Media portrayed women thusly, and so young women behaved thusly, so media believed it's own portrayal, and young women believed the media... and so too did young men.

I, being vaguely unable to pick up on social cues, did not attempt to conform.  I used big words all the time.  I did not try to make myself smaller and quieter.  I was continually told I was intimidating.  And I was rejected for it.  This led to a world of hurt, leading to a reactionary rejection of all things feminine, for which I blamed my condition.

Another self-feeding loop.

Now I was fortunate enough to have been growing up with television shows like Xena: Warrior Princess and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, both of which provided a counterpoint to everything else I was seeing.  Xena and Buffy were tough as nails, took no shit, and frequently kicked arse.  Then there was Stargate SG1, who had the incredibly intelligent Samantha Carter, who was brainy and could fire a gun at aliens with the best of them.

Unfortunately, the damage was already done by the time these shows came into my consciousness.

While these shows didn't save me from myself, what they did do was highlight a different aspect of womanhood - the aspect I did not think belonged to the gender: fortitude, courage, independence,  physical strength, intelligence and, perhaps most importantly, competence.

Buffy's strength came from her place as the supernatural arse-kicker of other supernaturals.  Xena, however, did not have this aspect.  She was just strong; a good fighter (well, as good as campy 90s television shows could make her).  Carter was smart.  Really smart.  And her introduction to the series, where she shoots Kawalski's macho posturing down with the prefect rebuttal, was something I will never forget.

Then there was the problem of history, which proved, for the most part, to be very much his story.  Women were woefully under-represented in history classes, despite being incredibly influential players in their times.  I didn't learn about Boudicca, for example, until I started self-studying on the ancient history of Britain (before I started attending university for the same).  This woman, who united several disparate tribes in Britain, raised an army and commanded them through several victories, this woman who has an entire archaeological layer named after her (the Boudiccan Destruction Horizon) apparently did not warrant a mention in the history books.  Even today, I have a book edited as recently as 1991 who, despite mentioning smaller events in the same time, makes no mention of her whatsoever.

She razed three cities to their foundations and very nearly cast Rome from Britain.

She is not the only influential woman history books have failed to mention.  Indeed, most history books simply gloss over women; they are reduced to mentions or after-thoughts.  Not important enough for their own chapters.  It wasn't until last year, for example, that I learnt that the person who actually discovered that DNA was in fact a double helix was a woman by the name of Rosalind Franklin (and had her findings stolen by the two men who are still, despite their crime being made known, credited with the discovery).  It is improving, but women are still wildly unrepresented.

In case you can't tell, it pisses me off no end.

I'm a huge fan of Rejected Princesses because the illustrator does wonders bringing to life amazing women from history and legend, and letting the world know that there is a much fuller, far deeper, impossibly rich representation of femininity out there.  Seriously, go read that site.  It's so wonderful.

With these new representations, my day dreams slowly started to change.  Instead of imagining myself saving the kingdom in full armour, and a man, I started to day dream about saving the kingdom in full armour, and still, and very proudly, a woman.

My perception of womanhood had changed.  It didn't happen over night, but it started to.

None of the women I've mentioned in popular media presented as ultra-feminine.  They simply weren't portrayed that way.  Since there are no examples of the femininity of ancient women, even reading about their histories didn't help me much. So while my vision of what womanhood meant was changing for the better, I was still struggling with the concept of femininity.

Then, quite recently, something switched in my head.

I realised that all things that women do are feminine by virtue of the gender performing the act.  U.F.C.  Feminine.  Yes, feminine means kicking butt.  Black Widow?  Agent Carter?  Arguably very feminine.  Still kicking colossal butt.  Combat books and rifles?  Feminine.  Skirts and pretty dresses?  Also feminine.  And they don't mean the wearer has any less ability to kick butt or outsmart their opponents.

There are no tomboys.  Those tomboys are doing perfectly normal things for a girl to do, which is, unsurprisingly, also what boys tend to enjoy.

Boys and girls really aren't as different as some people like to pretend they are (see: MRAs and their concepts of "real" women), and it is possible, even probable, to be a woman and like all the things I like - Bundi and Coke, swords and armour, video games, rough and tumble - and still be entirely, wholly and unmistakably woman.

I would never have been able to accept this if I didn't see it for myself, either in the women around me (thank you, Rhonda Rousey, for existing), portrayed in the media (thank you Xena, Buffy and Sam), and acknowledged in history (thank you Boudicca, Gwenllian ferch Gryffydd, Marie Curie, Hypatia, Ada Loveless and countless others we know too little about because of skewed representations in history books).

Representation matters.  I am living proof of this.

So, when the black community, or the LGBTQ+ community, or the Asian community, or the growing number of stay at home fathers moan about the fact that there are no black heroes, no LGBTQ+ heroes, no Asian heroes, no competent fathers represented in media I cannot dismiss the claims as so many do.

They have a very valid, very concerning point.

Representation matters.

It helped me make peace with myself.

Representation matters.

There is so much more that could be said on this topic, but I'm running late as it is and need to get working.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I know yesterday that I said that I'd discuss representation, but at the time of writing that, it completely slipped my mind that the following day (today) was the 20th.

Why is the 20th important, you might ask?

Well strap in, people, because I'm about to get really, really, really sappy.

Once upon a time there lived a young woman (me), who swore on her life she would never live with another human again.  She had such terrible time with people in general, and living with them was incredibly stressful and upsetting - to the point of nervous breakdown.

This young woman (me) had lived a number of years alone and loved it, thank you very much.

When news came that she must move, the young woman (me) had lined up a new studio apartment to live in.  Alone.

The universe disagreed.

Through what can only be described as a series of unfortunate events, the young woman (me) lost her new studio apartment and had no choice.  Having already been offered a place with the Amazing Flatmate and turned it down, the young woman (me) meekly sent an email wondering if the room was free.

It was.

The young woman (me) moved in.

As it turned out, it was the best decision I had no choice but to make ever.

The Amazing Flatmate has continually earned her moniker.  Over and over again she has proven to be hard-working, dedicated, and the single most kind person I have ever met.  She's always there for people.  She's always been there for me.  She's less a flatmate and more a sister at this point.

I feel so very fortunate to have her in my life, and I honestly don't know where I'd be without her.

I know I'm healthier, happier and better for knowing her.

And today is her birthday.

That's why today is so special.  This is the day someone impossibly wonderful was born, and I continually thank my lucky stars that she was.  There should be an international holiday or something.

Anyway, if you could spam her on Twitter with birthday wishes, that would make me happy... and probably weird her out a bit.  Her handle is @AmazingFlatmate and you can find her Twitter profile HERE.

Right, I have work to do.

Ciao!