Anarchist’s Lullaby, and the fights ahead of us.

Anarchist’s Lullaby comes out, what, tomorrow? Hard to believe. I’ve spent the past month in and out of medical procedures and surgery, and have largely made myself at peace with it being out of my hands, and out in the wider world. But that’s been a frightening process, because of what this book is to me.
Anarchist’s Lullaby, to me, is a promise that when the time comes, I will fight. My ways of fighting are weird, due to my patchwork of disabilities. For me, writing a novel such as Anarchist’s Lullaby is a form of activism and protest- rather than simply a piece of entertainment or art. It’s not a battle as we’ve come to think of them. I’m hideously unsuited to those kinds of battles.
But it’s a promise to fight my way.
It’s hard to think of myself as a fighter when I’m breathing with the aid of a tube. When disruptions to our health care system could deprive me of medicines that prevent my body from committing suicide on a cellular level. It’s hard to think of myself as a fighter when some days my body seems so alien that it makes me dizzy to look in the mirror. It’s hard to think of myself as a fighter when the avenues that are visible to us are out of reach. I cannot become a politician- that’s a privilege largely reserved for the already-wealthy, as well as those who have never made compromises in poverty, such as sex work or bankrupcy or petty theft. It’s out of reach for many, maybe even most of those seeking to join the fight. I cannot become a protester- my health issues would never permit it. Many of the “do-gooder” jobs in social work or private charities are unsuited to my physical and mental issues.
But I do fight.
I fight through my writing. I fight through sharing private snippets of my life with you guys, so that you can understand how those around you in similar situations may feel pressured to silence. I fight through doing my best to share things that uplift people who don’t always have many with the privileges and power I do have reaching out to show things that make them feel beautiful and strong.
I fight by trying to be the best damn person I can be.
But sometimes, I need reminding. I need reminding that even when I’m quiet, even when I’m healing, I will not back down from the fights ongoing.
Because we need every fighter we can get if we’re gonna uphold the progress we’ve made, and keep marginalized members of our communities safe.
Even a sick, crazy romance novelist.
We all have roles to play. We all have fights to face.
Maybe the nice thing about having severe medical scares so frequently is having that constant reality check. People emerging from near-death situations often talk about feeling their life was wasted, looking back on it and realizing all the things they wanted to change. Going through that frequently leaves me constantly doublechecking that my feet are on the right path so that if this next medical scare is the one that sees me dead, I won’t have too many regrets.
I won’t regret Anarchist’s Lullaby.
I won’t regret fighting.
En garde.


Anarchist’s Lullaby is available on All profits go to Black Lives Matter. Thank you for reading and supporting my books!

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