Category Archives: Fiction

Neuroqueer, an offering

There is something about the inbetweeny nature of the kind of experience that is the natural territory of the neurodiverse way of being that lends itself to evolution, as and when the various methodologies of life unlock themselves from all the rules and rigidity of what is already known and familiar to most, to venture into the territory and meet us there. We naturally inhabit the void where new potentials emerge by virtue of the fact we are non-conformers and this leads into new extrapolations of experience…and expression. Continue reading

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Jane Eyre – nineteenth century Aspie woman

Yesterday, I was at the Blackeyed Theatre stage production of Jane Eyre and, from the front balcony seat looking down onto the stage, I saw something so new yet just so obvious about this well-known character that I had missed … Continue reading

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To walk visible…at last

Was your fierce teenage femininity woken up and crystallised by Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights”? Mine certainly was. I know I’ve thought of re-reading “Wuthering Heights” many times over the years – what stopped me, caused hesitation? Did I fear disappointment with what engaged me so as a girl like when you try to visit the most magical books of childhood and they’re just not the same, am I more squeamish of the dark than I used to be, or was it the thought of comparison…with where I am now…that I most dreaded? For, where is my inner Cathy, where are my wild moors; have I sold my life out to the Lintons, made nice and put wild plaything away? Or am I still promising them to myself “tomorrow”? Continue reading

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Curiosity killed the joy

What happens when we start to consider that there can be many truths, all at the same time. After all, life is never a single, simple thread; everything we release into it becomes woven into a dense tapestry of other people and events and yet only we each get to choose which is our still-relatable thread to follow. No one else can come along and unpick or reclaim that thread as more-rightfully theirs, or even snip it out as though it never existed or was “wrong”, which is how we mess-up when we attempt to post-mortem anything that happened “in the past”. As we pull away at “what was”, there is always the risk that unpicking one part of the tapestry to make ourselves feel better will cause other things to fall apart for others…perhaps necessarily so in cases where something continues to be harmfully distorted to this day, but quite unnecessary in others, so this need to be a very conscious and considered choice… Continue reading

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Being the rainbow bridge

When we reach out our arms and embrace the broken aspect of the masculine, we bring it home to ourselves and the feminine values that are so needed by this world in order for us to move on together, intermingled as the best of both masculine and feminine qualities, as one unit. When we do this, we allow the masculine to dare to come home to the ever present embrace of the feminine, not to build up its walls of resistance even stronger against it. It is sad, yes, that so often the masculine has to be broken before it will come home in this way; but let it be broken only because of its own doings, not because the feminine contributed to that (which is not what the feminine is about anyway). As such, we all get to be the rainbow rather than chasing down its mythical ending (something I pondered just a few days ago  as I was travelling home along a road arced by a rainbow, wondering which end the pot of gold was meant to be at; surely when we realise it is to be found at both ends, the whole of its bridge, joining one place to another, becomes that long sought-after gold). When we are the rainbow ourselves, rather than seeking it externally, we incorporate the best of both worlds…as ourselves; which makes it less of a destination than a state we get to be in, all of the time.

Rediscovering the much-needed rainbow bridge that I describe as it is so beautifully conveyed in a hundred year old “parable” of our times: E. M Forster’s “Howard’s End”. Continue reading

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Now is the time…

I loved this novel so much and, like all the best and most timely reads, I chose it almost by accident, feeling my way into the author via a particular root I was following (“root” feels like exactly the right … Continue reading

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