What’s in a name?

Or a book title.

giphy-4

Here Comes the Son went through a series of titles before I hit on the punny goodness of the perfect one.

I thought it would be fun to share some of the rejects.

1. Not the Devil

2. Devil on My Shoulder

3. Wicked Satisfaction

4. Morning Son

5. Son of the Morning

6. Son Set

7. Devilish

8. Kingdom Come

9. Wicked Saint

10. Wicked Inheritance

The Herb-a-Swore

giphy-downsized

If you’ve read any of my books, you’ll know I LOVE a good swear. Sometimes inventive, sometimes conventional, I’ve rarely made a supposed ‘bad’ word I didn’t like.

In Here Comes the Son, I got incredibly creative with Lalo, one of the main characters. He doesn’t curse in a way you’d expect.

So here are a few of his greatest hits.

  1. Holy Crumbs
  2. Fudgesicles
  3. Son of a Carrot
  4. Son of a Cabbage
  5. Oh My Basil
  6. Basil It Up
  7. For the Love of Oregano
  8. For Fennel’s Sake
  9. What the Fennel?
  10. Crumbs

I think ‘basil it up’ is probably my favourite.

The Mile High….City

You thought I was going somewhere naughty with that, didn’t you?

denver-1567052_1920

I’ve been to Denver probably four or five times. My husband was born just north of the city and lived there for the first forty years of his life. He knows the city inside and out.

He was a great resource when I began writing Here Comes The Son.

There are loads of interesting places and buildings to see in the Mile High City (The Library is my husband’s favourite.)

I thought I’d focus on food, partly because it features quite prominently in my story.

So here are ten amazing restaurants to check out if you’re ever in the area.

  1. Denver Biscuit Company – yum
  2. Bar Dough
  3. Uncle
  4. Maria Empanada
  5. Potager
  6. Cattivella
  7. Vinh Xuong Bakery
  8. Aiko Pops
  9. Rioja
  10. Fruition

There are loads more, but these are definitely top of my list.

And now, I’m hungry.

Sex on the Spectrum

April is generally considered ‘Autism Awareness’ month. I prefer Autism Acceptance.  I do not support Autism Speaks. I do not light it up blue. I am not a puzzle piece.

I thought for my second Monday Blog in April. I’d discuss another aspect of my life as an autistic adult.

giphy-5

One of the greatest dangers that face an autistic adult is not having sufficient information to deal with adult issues.

I’ve noticed a trend where non-autistics tend to infantilize autistics as teens and adults. They treat us as though we’re incapable of making decisions and caring for ourselves. And that is definitely not accurate.

It can and often does lead to a number of issues as we grow up.

One of which is sex and sexuality. I can only speak for myself here and my experiences, though. As we always say, when you’ve met one autistic…you’ve met one autistic.

I grew up in a very sheltered environment. I was the adopted child of closed-minded Baptist missionaries. I didn’t even know autism exited until I was in my twenties. I knew I was different, but not why.

Being sheltered and undiagnosed led to a number of issues. One being a serious lack of knowledge about sex. This all happened before ‘googling’ was a thing. I had no access to information–and no idea I needed information.

That, to me, is the most dangerous thing.

All these instinctual things non-autistics seem to grasp.

I didn’t.

I had no idea how sex worked. How safe sex worked. I had no clue that there were different sexualities.

It seems ridiculous and incomprehensible, but it’s true.

Education is important. CRITICALLY important for autistics.

I had to learn the hard way. I had to educate myself. I made humiliating mistakes. My dating history is littered with bad decisions I could’ve avoided with a little knowledge.

And I’ve completely lost my train of thought. Thanks, Brain. I’ll end this post here.

Bonus round of unrelated yet related things I wish:

– Society didn’t mock adults looking for information that people consider ‘common sense.’

– People wouldn’t say ‘there’s no such thing as a stupid question’ without meaning it.

 

 

 

 

Thanks. No Thanks. Thanks.

April is generally considered ‘Autism Awareness’ month. I prefer Autism Acceptance.  I do not support Autism Speaks. I do not light it up blue. I am not a puzzle piece.

I thought for my first Monday Blog in April. I’d discuss an aspect of my life as an autistic adult.

giphy-downsized (2)

The above gif is an accurate representation of how I feel about my brain daily.

True story.

I’ve wanted to write this blog post for over a year but struggled to put my thoughts into coherent words. Something I deal with quite frequently as an autistic. An experience this week made me want to make an attempt yet again–so please forgive any rambling. I’m trying.

I am autistic.

I live in a world that isn’t designed for the neurally divergent.

Let’s be honest, the world was made for the neurally and physically abled person.

The older I get, the harder it becomes to mask my way through life. (If you’d like to learn more about autistic masking, Neurodivergent Rebel has a fantastic video on the subject: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZB38phQNzw)

And with masking becoming harder, it can be a battle to do specific tasks. All the author things I have to do with promo, talking to people, blogging, so many things. It can be overwhelming and some days impossible. I have days where I sit at my desk and stare at my to-do list for an hour without actually accomplishing a single item.

I get comfortable with people and routines, both of which help me climb these hurdlers within myself.

My life has been blessed with a core group of friends who go out of their way to help me…or at least not make my life more difficult.

The trouble is that I struggle with something that feels a bit like imposter syndrome. I know I need help. I don’t ask for it, but when I receive it.

I suddenly feel like I shouldn’t take the help. Like, I not only do I not need help. I don’t deserve it.

This past week offered a prime example.

My point of contact with my publisher is generally one of two people. As my publisher grows, more people are added to the mix. It causes me a lot of anxiety.

My beloved publisher graciously makes accommodations for me, so that I’m able to cope.

The downside of this brilliant kindness is that a negative internal conversation happens. I question myself. I don’t really need this help, do I? I can manage. I’ll be fine. I’m making their lives more difficult.

It’s toxic self-doubt.

I don’t know if many of my fellow autistics struggle with this.  I’m sure some must.

I do need help at times. I can manage, sometimes, but at what cost to my mental health and stress levels?

One of my goals this year was to be kinder to myself.

I don’t have to be extraordinary or superhuman to validate my existence as an autistic and person.

(This is one of my greatest issues with inspiration porn featuring extraordinary autistics with amazing gifts. It inspires non-autistics, but frequently leaves other autistics feeling as though they will never be enough just as they are.)

I’m trying to do better.

How do you handle accepting help when you need it?

Five Reasons to Love Fie

giphy-downsized

Fie is one of my favourite characters that I’ve ever written.

Here are a few reasons why you should love him as well.

1. Beard. The Beard. His beard. Beardy bear of a man that he is.

2. His strength and courage facing his fears.

3. Did I mention the beard?

4. His love of pottery.

5. His relationship with Haggard, his service animal and best friend.

And a million other reasons.