Tales From the Editing Trenches and other Endeavors


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It’s been awhile since I’ve written, I know dear readers. It’s been a busy summer. I’ll only bore you with a few of the details, I swear. I hope that you walk away with a few of the insights that I did even if you’re bored to tears. I’m laughing to myself right now as I sit in my new auction purchased writer’s chair in my cluttered little office. I laugh because like all things in my life lately, I am examining where to begin. This is not an easy chore.

As some of you know, I started a new job this summer. I have been frightfully busy doing nothing because of impending changes due to the federal sequestration of funding. Then I was frightfully busy waiting to be able to implement the changes which I could not do until the powers that be made a bunch of decisions. In true “powers that be” form it took until the last minute and then they want to start asking why I didn’t make these changes sooner. To which I blow giant raspberries. Typical government crap….hurry up and wait and then change everything to fit today’s needs in yesterday’s timelines. I also am starting to think that this job problem is biting into my social media time….I’m laughing out loud at how acclimated we have all become to the constraints of real life on our virtual lives.

The summer has also been busy with following my heart on many things which is starting to prove to be a very worthwhile endeavor. Even though it is scary and sometimes uncomfortable for this little autistic zombie girl, I am very happy to report that I have just closed my eyes and done lots of deep breathing. Then opened them to the surprise. Wow the surprise is that this method has actually worked!

I’ve also seen lots of movies and in typical summer pursuits at our house gone to lots of concerts! My dislike for old man bands grows while my anticipation for the upcoming Adam Ant show makes me giggle in 80’s girl insanity.

The biggest changes of this summer, outside of the new job issue is my slightly changing view of myself and the world in general around me. Not that the world has suddenly become autistically inclined, but more in the comfortableness of myself and learning to balance all of the new roles within my own little world.

One of the most important changes has been in my own house as I am the main money maker, now. Yes, the Fix-it-guy is still unemployed. I feel his tension in the shift of the money power, and honestly, I really try not to point it out. Occasionally, however, I take just a little delight in poking my finger at it. I actually have a little extra money these days and I treated myself to a brand new netbook. I have waited far too long for Scrivener to pull an iPad app out of thin air. Honestly, Scrivener, you started on Mac, why isn’t this the first thing you worked on? The call of NaNo looms hugely over my head and the pressure to be mobile as the new ML of the Indiana Elsewhere group charges at me with its ugly little stubborn head full force and completely without brakes. I wish technology would keep up with me, honestly. Why is the march of progress so relentlessly slow? It’s like a snail.

Wee Geek continues to struggle with the parameters of his grown up world. This has been the most difficult part of my life lately. I know that he has to struggle and I feel so powerless in pushing him up the hill and over the hump. There was a misguided and misunderstood non-suicide threat which landed him in the nut hut for a couple of days. This did make him understand that he needs to learn how to control his emotions a little more and also to understand that he cannot do this huge job of mopping up the mess his dad made all by himself.  I’m sure that in his dad’s little control freak brain, it made perfect sense to disable rather than to enable this kid. What he really did was create a huge cauldron of crap that is taking a lot of time to unravel. Wee Geek spent so much time stuffing himself down to keep from getting killed in that awful environment that there was little opportunity to actually learn how to cope. Now that his life has settled down and started to find a path, he is unable to control the feelings that are surfacing. The biggest of which is anger at his dad. I feel a great deal of frustration in him sending all of his energy in that direction. That too is a coping mechanism, however, and I have to let him get through it. No matter how inefficient it truly is.

It’s been a struggle for me not to run to bring him home. There is value to all paths we make decisions to follow. Not always wisdom, but value. He refuses to go file for unemployment. He has been warned that I will be somewhat unsympathetic toward money issues if he does not take steps to help himself. We all have to draw lines in the sand. In reality, the Fix-it-guy and I know that the best thing for him would prolly be to come home and let us help him to get on the autism waiver and get involved with Voc Rehab to help him with financial stuff and getting a new job. It would be helpful in getting him back into school, too. He’s very afraid to take that step. It feels like he’s taking a step backward to him. It’s progress in a backdoor way and he is not excited for that in the least.

The biggest event of the summer came in a very strange way, however. And it almost didn’t happen. My publisher Post Mortem Press (go see link here) http://www.postmortem-press.com/ threw a little retreat for its authors. I had planned for Fix-it-guy to come and at the very last minute (and I do mean that in the most literal sense of the word) he decided not to go. So, I drove to Yellow Springs, Ohio all by my lonesome. The motel was fantastic http://www.thespringsmotel.com/ and I recommend it for that truly creepy Bates Motel experience. Not that the motel was bad, it just gave you this very distinct feeling of going back in time. It was your typical one story strip mall kind of motel with gigantic dollops of nostalgia.

It was interesting to meet the other authors and most exciting of all…..extremely motivational! The main activity of the weekend was a little Edited! (rather than Chopped) contest. We had to submit a flash fiction story before we arrived. Don’t worry, I had to look it up, too. I had no idea how to write flash fiction and only barely understood what it actually was. This link helped me to get it: http://www.writing-world.com/fiction/flash.shtml .  So I wrote this strange little story called “Damned If You Do” about a boy zombie killer and his girlfriend. I know, no surprises there. After placing in the top of that round, we were given the lyrics to an old Joy Division song http://www.lyricsfreak.com/j/joy+division/love+will+tear+us+apart_20075884.html “Love Will Tear Us Apart”. Here’s a link to the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHYOXyy1ToI  . Didn’t really miss Joy Division, did you? So I wrote another little story of the same title about a man who kills his wife and they in true Norman Bates style, keeps her as if she was sick. The next prompt was a picture prompt. It was a strange little photo with a young girl holding a baby and a storm brewing in the background. That story was born of a strange experience in a haunted school (that will be later) called “Vortex Baby”. It was about  a child of an incestuous rape being born. The final story was based on the prompt “The Caretaker”. This story was rooted a little in the story that appeared in “Fear of the Abyss” http://www.amazon.com/Fear-Abyss-Post-Mortem-Press/dp/0615732518  and a little on the movie “Daybreakers” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0433362/ which I highly recommend as refreshing look at the vampire mythology.  It was about an alien race who used humans as their Life Force. It smacks greatly of “Solyent Green” http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0070723/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1  again another movie that comes highly recommended from yours truly. This story was the winner.

I know that the strange string of events that led to this was nothing short of silly, but it worked and as a writer of fiction, who am I to argue with the debate of fiction needing to be more real

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than real life. At any rate, my winnings consisted of a little plastic trophy and a  huge cache of Post Mortem Press books. Winning this really did something to me. It validated that I do indeed know what the hell I am doing. It made me realize that this is what I should be doing with my life. It also solidified the need to get all three of these books out of my computer and into a book.

So, never fear, the zombie novel is finally coming.  I was so inspired and energized by spending the weekend with 20 people that I didn’t even know of outside of Facebook and some not really at all, that I now count them all as wonderful influences on my life as a whole.

So here are some links to authors that you should link to.

Nelson Pyles http://nelsonwpyles.com/ who also runs https://www.facebook.com/TheWickedLibrary

J. David Anderson: https://www.facebook.com/authorjdavidanderson

C. Bryan Brown: https://www.facebook.com/cbryanbrown

Jessica McHugh: https://www.facebook.com/author.JessicaMcHugh

Gary Braunbeck: http://garybraunbeck.com/

Tim Waggoner: http://www.timwaggoner.com/

Lucy Snyder: http://www.sff.net/people/lucy-snyder/

Kenneth Cain: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Your-eyes-My-vision-the-Dark-Fiction-of-Kenneth-W-Cain/177796992258142

Brady Allen: https://www.facebook.com/authorbradyallen

Georgina Morales: http://www.diaryofawriterinprogress.blogspot.com/

I think that hits everyone. If I missed someone feel free to let me know.

What I did learn from this fateful weekend is so awesome that I find it hard to find words to talk about it.

I know, you are dying to know about the Haunted School trip. It was at Poasttown school http://poasttownschool.com/Home_Page.php . There is a place in the heart of the school that they call the Vortex. It’s a kind of place that all the roads in the school merge into. It has a very unique energy. As most of you longer time readers know, I have Asperger’s. This means that my brain is never quiet and I never stop ticking. This is usually fairly easy to control with massive doses of Benydryl. As I walked into the vortex, I was taken completely off my feet. My brain was quiet. My body was quiet. I didn’t feel the need to rock or twitch or move or really anything. I know that most neurotypical people won’t get it. They can actually turn off their brains. My brain does not have that switch. It is constantly moving and driving me into distraction and destruction. The feeling of complete and utter calm was so foreign that I almost didn’t know how to react. At first the quiet scared me. It was immediate. Like a switch being turned off in my brain. It was dark and felt like everyone was sleeping. If it had only been quiet and I had not had the stillness in my body, I prolly would have run like hell. Instead, I just stood and enjoyed the curiosity of it.

At any rate, that was the reason behind the “Vortex Baby” story. It also brings me to a screeching halt here in the Land of the Not Quite Right. I have a roaring allergy headache that refuses to go away and I am seriously going to lay down and try to get rid of the damn thing. I am inspired once more, so hopefully more blogs will be leaking out of my head as I continue on this creative binge.

 

 

 

A Mother’s Humour and Other Ways to Delve Into Madness


It’s literally been a very odd week. It started with Mother’s Day. I, of course, wanted Wee Geek to go and pick up my mom and drive to Muncie and meet us at Outback for lunch. Which after all the court broo-haha on Friday prior to that would have been nice. However, my mom was in one of her moods that are so aspy, and yet, so completely odd to me. She decided that she didn’t want to go. I guess it was fine. Wee Geek told me to let it go and I did. So The Fix it Guy and I spent Mother’s Day eating lunch at Outback and then going to an auction which turned out to be completely great. I picked up a ton of nice vintage jewelry that I’m ever so much in love with.

I don’t pretend to understand why my mom has these moments, but when I look at it, I guess that occasionally, I do as well. So I shouldn’t be too hard on her. After all, we all need time to do our own thing and I would want her to accept that about me.

Another odd thing about Mother’s Day was that a dear friend’s mother died that day. I didn’t know this friend’s mother very well, I’ve only met her a few times, but I’m told that the irony in her dying this particular day is simply delicious. I’m glad that my friend is able to deal with the loss of his only surviving parent with this kind of humour. He, does, in general, try to face most trials in his life in this way and I suppose that this is prolly why we are friends. Because we both approach life’s tragedies and trials as if it is in reality some gargantuan joke that we just don’t know the punch line to. And we laugh anyway. If you can’t beat them, by god, join them.

I’ve been very interested in watching the dynamics of this family as they go through this difficult time, because as always, I am a keen observer of humans in general. (I may have to report back to the Big Giant Head at any moment…see http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0115082/?ref_=sr_1 if you have no idea what that refers to.) I hope that my friends don’t mind my observations. My friend is trying very hard to be the zen hippy dippy California guy and stay in the middle because his sister is a wreck and his brother is the guy who always orchestrates the duck line and makes sure that it is doing the right thing. So the only thing left for him to be is the guy in the middle who is even.

This process has been difficult to watch because it brings to mind the idea that our parents are getting older and their health is going to decline and they are going to need help. I am very aware that my mom doesn’t have anyone else to rely on that’s close except for me. This is hard and I often wish she would move closer to us so that I don’t have to worry so damn much.

So going through this week, trying to be considerate of my friend’s feelings, I have just been trying to anticipate what he might need and I’ve been trying to make sure that he knows that he has support or someone who accepts him and loves him for who he is. It is hard to know what to do in these situations, but especially hard when you live on the spectrum because you just never are quite sure what the protocol for social behavior is. Grieving times compound this because people do not react in uniform ways to grief. Very distressing for those of us who need some sort of species conformity in order to form rules for ourselves so that we don’t inadvertently perform some ritual that is going to cause Karma to visit us 4 times daily with extra healthy heapings of bad luck.  So, if all of you neurotypical people could just get together and figure out a uniform way to grieve, that would be very helpful, thank you.

I never know what to say. Thankfully, The Fix it Guy knows that you are supposed to say silly things like “I’m sorry for your loss”. I don’t even know how that is remotely comforting. I much prefer, “I am here for you to use however you need to so that you can get through this truly horrific moment in your life”. I would never even have guessed “I’m sorry for your loss” not even with cue cards.

So, I am still teaching blogging at this conference tomorrow and so have to miss the funeral. I always feel as if funerals should really truly be for people who were close to the dead person or family. I’m just sort of a random passerby who happens to know three of her four kids. I will be thinking of my friends tomorrow as they go down this path of their lives. It is with a truly heavy heart that I think of them.

In other news….I think I’ve figured out what the next phase in my life is. So now I have to hurry up and do all of the stuff that I said I would do while I was not working. Craft room will be completely moved this upcoming week as well as one zombie book edited. In the meantime, please enjoy these photos of my craftiness.

The first three doctors

The first three doctors

The Fourth Doctor

The Fourth Doctor

The Fifth Doctor

The Fifth Doctor

 

MWW 12 Reflections: Being a Literary Citizen


I’m still reflecting on things overheard at the Midwest Writer’s Workshop.  Go here to learn more. It’s a wonderful opportunity for writers right here in the heart of midwestern land http://www.midwestwriters.org/ .

I heard a lot about being a literary citizen. I’ve thought about this in depth for this last week. I’ve also thought about the people that I see doing this every day. Big shout out to http://kelseytimmerman.com/ who pulled a gigantic move of conscience and sent back his Eagle Scout badge this week. You can contact him on twitter, or just tune in to see what his thoughts are in general. http://twitter.com/KelseyTimmerman or just find him @Kelsey Timmerman. Think about the stand he is taking and why it is occasionally important to stand up for what you believe in even if it means becoming a pariah in some of your normal social groups. Everyone loves a groupie, but they really aspire to be a star.

It’s not just about being active on all of the social media, which they made a huge deal out of. It’s not just connecting on social media sites like Twitter and Facebook. It’s not just about interacting in communities that you think might help you. All of these things are good and even putting links to things like I just did twice already will prolly get you lots more readers, but there’s more to it than that. What is it about? Here is where you thank  your lucky stars that I’m here to think about this stuff for you, so that you don’t have to. Here is where you look at what I did and say to yourself….”Hmmmm….self, maybe I should ponder this for the hundredth of a second that social media will allow me to and see if this makes sense for me to do.”

I talked in great length with one of the social media consultants during the workshop (http://twitter.com/androgynisto) who was absolutely brilliant in stroking my little writer’s ego, but also in suggesting new ways to boost my little writer’s ego for myself.  I’m not negating what my 10-25 regular readers do, I’m just saying that I’d like to boost my subscriptions AND feel as if I am actually doing something for my community that is fulfilling and satisfying. I have also been thinking of being a literary citizen in terms of extending the conversations that I am already having. The ones that hold meaning for me.

I’ve thought about what MY community is. I belong to lots of communities. All of them offer me something different in the fulfilling and satisfying department. My home community, although frustrating and the number one filler of blog content, is genuinely pretty satisfying and fulfilling. 

I belong to a community of writers. Actually a couple of them. This community has given me the courage to put myself out there and actually get published. It also has encouraged me to write. Not just stories, but things about myself, this blog and even a few articles here and there. This community has also given me friends and a time when I desperately needed to have friends so that I could transition from being Wee Geek’s mom to the wonderful autistic zombie girl that you have grown to know and to love.

I belong to the autistic community and this is where I feel the greatest responsibility. I cannot separate myself from the way that my brain works. It colours everything that I do, how I think, how I feel, how I interact with the world. Here is a great article about person first language by Jim Sinclair: http://autismmythbusters.com/general-public/autistic-vs-people-with-autism/jim-sinclair-why-i-dislike-person-first-language/ . I feel a great responsibility toward this community mostly because I am the most in tune and intertwined with this community. It bugs the hell out of me that there are so few role models  for autistic people. Especially ones on the higher end of the spectrum. I also feel that we need to dispell the myths about autism because it is a spectrum and we need to ALL work together to make the world a better place for ALL of us. Not just the lower functioning people. Not just the higher functioning people. ALL of us as an autistic community. (I jump sheepishly down from the soapbox.)

I belong to a community of early education specialists. People who know the value of early intervention in the lives of children and their families. For me this means pinpointing developmental issues and trying to minimise their lasting effects on kids. We all know that the earlier we intervene with kids on the spectrum the higher functioning we can make them. Here is a good article on early intervention impacts (disregard the crap about ABA): http://autism-help.org/intervention-autism-aspergers-introduction.htm . I believe this with all of my heart and soul. This also means working with families to make them understand that this is true and coming to grips with the autism diagnosis NOT being a death sentence. It also means enjoying little kids and sharing with their families why you can enjoy your little kids. Our families are in such crisis sometimes that they have forgotten to truly enjoy this wonderful little person that has been thrust upon them.

When I look at just these few communities that I belong to, I am overwhelmed by the impact that they have on me. These few communities only scratch the surface of the things that I am involved in, but they are all terribly integral to who I am as a person and what my belief system is. These are the communities that I care about contributing to and extended conversations about. In some cases I want to start important conversations in these communities and move on with them. I want to learn from these conversations and broaden my horizons with them.

So when I examine my idea of being a literary citizen. I hope that I’m being faithful to the things that I mean to be faithful to. I hope that I am conveying meaningful ideas that start conversations, add to them and make people want to continue them. I hope that I am doing these things in a thoughtful manner that encourage interactions. I also hope that I am doing these things in a thoughtful way that might make people discontinue interactions. This means that I am hitting home with someone and making them think in a way that is uncomfortable for them. Making them think outside of their boxes.

I encourage people in my communities and in other communities to do this as well. We cannot blindly follow. We must think and intervene. We must be good citizens of all of our communities and promote meaningful and thoughtful change when needed.

Go forth, all of you, and use your evil powers for good.

Notes from the Midwest Writer’s Workshop and Other Places Zombie Girls Might Thrive


I know that it’s been a little while, and I will get around to updating you. It’s been a very interesting and busy week including a little mini vacation. I wanted to fulfill my need to catalogue everything I see on some sort of notecard that I will tuck away in some dark and deep corner of my brain where I can access it later for what could turn out to be some illicit purpose.

I look around at the people who attend this writer’s conference and chuckle sardonically to myself. I want to interject here that I am much more relaxed at this particular conference than when I came here 2 years ago for the first time. Last time I came, I’d felt a little bit like I was trying to live up to some expectation that I couldn’t possibly ever live up to. This time, I just feel like going with it and trying to have fun, make good observations and learn something. I’m having lots of fun with observations today.

Today I am noticing that there is a little different crowd than was at the intensive sessions. Intensive sessions are all day classes on a specific topic. I had wanted to get in the manuscript makeover class, but Best Buy guy didn’t give me the money (as my birthday present) in time, so there were no slots open. I had to pick something else that may or may not have been helpful. In retrospect, it was only slightly in the may be helpful category. I would have been happier if I’d actually read the teacher’s stuff. I hadn’t. I also hadn’t read anything that anyone talked about during the entire session. Sigh. It was a long road with the promise of taking an idea to some semblence of fruition. In this class, there was a bullish man who tried to interject his ideas (none of them very good or very well thought out) into everything. He did this in a way that tried to warp everything into some strange Frankenstein monster of an idea. I did not enjoy that. I didn’t care enough to interject my own thoughts, I had decided to just go with the flow. I know, completely contrary to my normal autistic stance.

I look around today and see a few of those faces from yesterday, but I also see a few pretend people. That is to say, people who have an idea in their heads of what “real writers” look like, and they try to look like that. In other words, there’s some cosplay looking stuff going on here. A few examples: a guy with a steampunky waxed into curls mustache, a woman with an ostrich plume in her hair, a girl with a little 20’s inspired outfit, complete with flapper hat. It’s definitely an interesting group with a diverse idea of what being a writer means. There are lots of degrees of pretentiousness here which is a whole different range of scary.  I love it.

How to Tell Your Kid He’s Autistic


There seems to be a real rash of TV shows needing to tell kids that they are autistic.  There was a lot of stuff last week when they made the big announcement on “Parenthood”.  I don’t watch the show and didn’t tune in especially for this.  However, I looked at the blitz that was in the media afterward, and I wasn’t impressed.  I’ve caught two shows this week that were in reruns along the same topic.  One was “Scrubs” in which the mean doctor tells his wife that their son is autistic.

One thing that bothers me about all of this is first of all that parents act as if the diagnosis is some sort of death sentence for their child.  I don’t care where your child is on the spectrum, parents need to look at the diagnosis as a name that will enable their child to get services in the school system.  That’s the biggest obstacle right there.  Getting services in the school system for your child that has this social issue which translates into all sorts of things.

In this new age of more proactive early intervention services and more proactive parents who are persistent and do not accept the opinion of one doctor if they really feel that there is an issue with their child, the diagnosis especially for kids on the higher end of the spectrum is becoming more common earlier on.  Doctors and therapists who do not have their fingers on the pulse of the autistic community, do not understand that the traditional signs are not as accurate or traditional as they used to be in light of the higher functioning autistic brain.  I still hear things like “they make eye contact, so there is no chance of being autistic” or “they can talk, so there’s no autism issues”.  My favourite is “we’re only seeing a few sensory things and they aren’t that severe”. 

My experience has been that sensory issues, if dealt with early are easier to curtail later on.  It’s also easier to make a repetitive tic more “normal” looking if you start early and modify it down.

The topic at hand still is that overwhelming question of how do you tell your kid?  At our house it was more of a process of putting a real working label on what was already going on at our house.  We already knew that Kale didn’t think the same way as other kids and we already had figured out several ways of combatting that at our house.  Not everyone appreciates the quirky wonderfulness that is the epitome of our children, but there are ways to make the kid okay with it and in translation other people are more okay with it, too.

I know for most parents, they are so worried about the stigma that is the diagnosis that they forget about the good stuff that comes along with it.  It’s very important to remember that giving a name to something that is going on with your child means that someone else has had this issue.  That’s a good thing.  It means that you are not alone.  It means that your child is not alone.  For most of us adults on the spectrum, it was a moment of “okay, I’m not crazy.  There’s a name for this, so that means that at least one other guy out there has this.  That means that I’m not the only weirdo in the universe.”  In spite of what you might think, it really is a comforting thought.

Believe me, if your kid has gotten to school age and they have not realised that they are different…then you have a way big problem on your hands.  the key here is to not turn the different into the equivalent of bad.  Having some self confidence in that difference and realising that it’s okay to look at things from a different perspective does a great deal for a kid.  I’ve often said that I grew up thinking that there was something inherently wrong with me and that I could just change the way I was if I just thought about it a little harder.  That is not a good mindset to have.  It took me a long time to realise that parents who grew up in a cookie cutter world just couldn’t understand not being a cookie.

As I said, at our house, it was more a struggle to get a name put to the “problem” than actually dealing with the “problem”.  The hardest thing in our universe was getting my family to understand that it didn’t change Kale to have this label.  It just changed the way that the school was dealing with his pretty unique issues.  We still dealt with him the exact same way. 

The next thing was getting Kale’s dad to deal with the label.  He’s never dealt with it.  Truthfully, you can’t have a kid like ours and not know that there’s some stuff going on there that is not like other kids.  You can’t have a kid like ours and not know that he is the proverbial square peg in a round hole.  A very square peg in a very round hole.  So, not dealing with it is doing a huge dis-service to yourself and the kid.  You can’t tell someone not to tic or not to have physical things because that is involuntary.  Can’t help that. Can’t stop it.  So move on.  It’s a stress reaction to whatever is going on. Truthfully, that little tick sometimes keeps my mouth out of trouble.

My main goal as a parent of a kid who was the same brand of weird as I was to raise him knowing that weird was okay and it was not a bad word.  My goal was that he would be happy and comfortable in his skin and never think that his way of doing things was not okay for him.  Quirkiness is in the eye of the beholder and truthfully not everyone can just go through life with everything just clicking into place and swimming along with the current.  Some people are destined and determined to swim upstream and against the current, that is their purpose. 

I don’t know how you are going to tell your kid about the spectrum.  I only know what worked for our family.  However, if I can make a suggestion or two….make it obvious that there is nothing wrong with it.  Make it certain that having a name for what’s going on with you helps people who provide help to others to provide the help that is most likely to be very good for you.  Make it evident that the unique way of thinking that comes along with the spectrum is not so great in the cookie cutter world of public school systems but very sought after in the world as we know it.  Although every strives to be the same in this small portion of the world we live in, it is not in reality what makes the world a better place to live in.

People who march to their own drummers are the ones that change the world and make it better for those of you who can’t find your inner drummer.  People who go against the grain and the current are the ones who ask the really big questions and make us all think about what we are really doing in this world and to this world.  People who have their own drummers and their own paintbrushes and their own microscopes are the ones who change the world and usually for the better.  These people are integral to the world advancing in a positive way.

I think alot about the commercial where they ask what would happen if we stuck with the first thing that was invented.  Without the Japanese inventing the electronic shrink ray for every product out there, we would still be carrying around bag phones that only fit in your trunk.  Without the genius who said, why shouldn’t our phones be more like our computers, there would be no facebook, no twitter, no foursquare or any of the other diversions that we all love and have become enslaved to.

I love the idea of the tablet computer.  I practically carry my netbook with me everywhere I go anyway, especially around NaNo time in November.  I really love the idea of a computer that interfaces by plugging your phone into it.  I’ve told my husband that if he’ll buy me a tablet, that I will get rid of my netbook, my Kindle and my Zune because they can all be segwayed into the tablet.  All of my devices in one one simple device seems like some futuristic wet dream that I can actually touch.  If that device would be my camera and my phone imagine the possibilities.  I am and it makes me giddy.

So, the bottom line is that I don’t know how you are going to tell your kid.  I don’t know what works for your family.  I can only tell you what worked for mine.  I know that you need to be sensible and not treat it as if it’s some sort of death sentence that can’t be dealt with.  I know that I wish someone in my life would have understood that my wildly creative imagination was a gift and not something that should have been condensed into a box.

Good luck with telling your kid if you need to.  If you need advice, just ask.  Good luck with making your family understand.  For them, you will need to be armed.  Good luck with dealing with it yourself if you aren’t on the spectrum.  For that you will need to be armed, too.