Mini-essay Monday: Our CripLit Village

On 22 May 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn CripLit, disability advocacy, Mini-works Mondays, pandemic, publishing, Spoonie challenges, WritingLeave a comment

Note: Crip is a reclaimed term that many disabled folks use as a word of empowerment. CripLit is a term for disability literature.

January 19, 2023

Our “village” is a place we all seek. It’s that band of friends and strangers who become friends… a group who share our lived experiences. That collective where being perfect never has to exist. We can be messy, and we celebrate our messiness. Brains don’t hafta brain optimally. We understand that and work with it.

Last night, I took my sick, exhausted body into my office, along with my brain that lived in a dense fog, and co-emceed a virtual book launch of Nothing Without Us Too. I moderated a panel where we were all delightful hot messes. Our answers were edifying, validating, honest, even snarky. Together we just worked. We just clicked. We accommodated, accepted, and celebrated each other where we were at. That absence of the pressure to present as “normal” leads to unrestrained freedom of the soul.

Sometimes at book launches, one wants to impress, to “sell” the work. This is a business after all. But last night, all we cared about was the community we had with each other—disabled, neurodivergent, and mentally ill authors. We laughed, we vented, we did nothing to be palatable to an abled, NT audience. People would have to deal with our perspectives, our experiences, our journeys. CripLit…the director’s cut.

There is such a constant pressure for us to “perform” and “mask” to adapt to the Normies’ structure of society. It’s draining. So, to show up as our authentic selves, unedited, is a gift. A gift we need to bring to each other more often.

This is why I am an advocate in literary circles. Spread out, we’re tokenized. Together, we’re a community to be reckoned with. Separate, we’re unique crystals of snow, but together, we’re a boulder torrenting down a hill, able to take out an entire township.

And we’re coming for you, ableism. We’re coming for ya.

A greyscale close-up of me, standing in front of a blank background. I am a white woman with short silver hair cropped closely on the sides. I am wearing dark metallic rimmed glasses with rhinestones on the side. I’m wearing silver hook earrings with flat beads and a plaid shirt.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the award-nominated, multi-genre, disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Voting is open to nominate works in the Prix Aurora Awards—and I have two works eligible this year!

On 10 Mar 202330 Apr 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Awards, SFF Fiction, This blog's posts, WritingLeave a comment

The Prix Aurora Awards are given to works and orgs under the speculative fiction umbrella by the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association (CSFFA). They have a three-step process for issuing the award:

Listing works or organizations that are eligible to be nominated.
Nominating the works or organizations to appear on the final ballot.
Voting from the ballot, that is, the lists of finalists in each category. This vote determines the winner of the award.

As of this post, we’re in Step 2. So, for example, my poem, Adrift, appears in the Best Poem category, and the multi-genre disability fiction anthology, Nothing Without Us Too (edited by myself and Talia C. Johnson), appears in Best Related Work. They’re not officially nominated yet, but eligible to be nominated.

If you would like to vote for my works to be nominated as finalists (to appear on the official ballot), and you’re a Canadian citizen or Permanent Resident, you can join the CSFFA for only 10$ a year! And what’s really cool is that when the finalists are named, you get a voter’s package of the written works to help you make your final decision about who wins the Auroras. So, free reads! Sometimes the reads are an excerpt, but I have bought books from loving those excerpts too!

And there is no pressure about voting for my stuff. You can vote for whomever you wish! There are a lot of great stories, poems, books, and more!

To learn more about the Prix Aurora Awards and how to join the CSFFA, please visit the CSFFA website. You can choose who should be nominated for the final ballot from now until April 22 at 11:59 EST.

Thanks so much for considering my works!

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured photo is the aurora sky banner on the CSFFA website.

Mini-fiction Monday: With My Kind

On 6 Mar 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Flash Fiction, microfiction, Mini-works Mondays, This blog's posts, WritingLeave a comment

CN: Ableism, eugenics
Genre: science fiction

Fun fact: This was the first micro-fiction I had ever written, and it first appears in Stargazing: Microtales from the Cosmos.

They’ll be coming for me. Fine. Anyway, there’s something so satisfying about a high-speed chase through space involving a Crip at the helm.

Huh.

Funny how our leadership brags that our planet’s a galactic god of tech, but they’re oblivious to the spirit of disabled sentients. Whatever. I’m here, alone for the moment, lights off but with life support, staring at the stars.

I’d been scheduled for “restructuring.” Well, the collective They felt people with legs that don’t leg were an impediment to their medical accolades. Being corralled to the Institute (read: institution) with about a hundred others was super fun. Thank goodness for Sheena. Our late-night convos from our bunks made everything bearable.

“You’re a star,” she’d sign. “You need to shine with your own kind.”

I finally had the courage to sign back, “I love you,” the night before they took her away.

She wasn’t voiceless. I heard her screams. The restructuring didn’t take.

So, for the next weeks, I watched. Each security team, what they carried, when they took breaks.

They shouldn’t have left that hoverchair unattended.

Nor the Crip Carrier.

Gorgeous ship, too.

I’m with my own kind now, Sheena.

“I love you.”

With My Kind © 2020 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction from the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured photo by Philippe Donn on Pexels.com

Ephemera reading series banner: A pale pink-biege sky with flocks of black birds flying near the moon

First reading ever of Iris and the Crew to happen live at ephemera on March 15, 2023!

On 24 Feb 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Author appearance, Author Reading, EventsLeave a comment

You could have knocked me over with a feather when KT Bryski sent me an email this week, asking me to read at the next ephemera event. For those who don’t know it, ephemera is a multi-award-nominated reading series run by awesome humans KT Bryski and Jen Albert. It used to be an in-person event but has been streamed live on YouTube since the pandemic came to Canada. Every month, usually the third week, these events take place with wonderful readers and performing artists!

You can subscribe to their YouTube channel at this link to watch past or future events: https://youtube.com/@EphemeraSeries

So, yeah, I was invited to read! Honestly, I was so honoured and frankly, stunned. But what a wonderful opportunity for me to share words from my new book, Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space! I’ve already chosen the excerpt, too!

If you would like to listen to me read, please go to the Live section option on ephemera YouTube channel on March 15 at 7pm EST! The entire event is about an hour long and will remain on their channel (in the Live section) afterwards!

I’m still full of squees! And very grateful for the opportunity!

*bounces up and down*

Hope you can join us!

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured photo is the official ephemera FB page banner.

Mini-Fiction Monday (a day late): Deliver Me From This Pandemic Hell

On 7 Feb 20237 Feb 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Flash Fiction, Mini-works Mondays, WritingLeave a comment

by Cait Gordon

Genre: Realistic Fiction, CN: Eugenics, Ableism, Inaccessibility

“Humanity started with Eden, and now it seems we’re in hell.”

“What the heck to do you mean by that?” asks Ed.

Cherie slumps against the table, then holds a hand out to stroke the handle of her rollator. It’s smooth, comforting. This is a time for comfort. This hell. This hell that never seems to end.

“I dunno. Never mind I said anything.”

Her words are muffled by the soft woollen sweater she loves. Periwinkle blue. That colour is a stim for her eyes. It’s cool but happy. She’s tried to explain this to Ed. His usual comment: “You’re wearing that blue one again?”

“Listen,” he says now, “We’re outside. Finally. It’s what we both wanted, right?”

“I need to put my mask back on.”

“Why? It’s a big room and not many people around.”

Cherie wants so badly to bop Ed one. Violence apparently never solves anything. Whoever said that must have never been interacted with a clueless abled. She still loves Ed, though. She supposes. He wears her out sometimes with his failure to see things as they are.

Wrapping her elbow around her face, Cherie bends over to the bag in her mobility device and grabs a white KN-95 mask. Her fingers are misbehaving today and tremble as she puts on the protective piece.

Ed isn’t wearing his. He scowls at her.

“Can’t we just do anything normal anymore?”

Cherie rolls her eyes. “Dude, what is normal to you and most other non-disabled or high risk folks is a right heap of crap for us. This pandemic has brought out the worst in people. All I’ve heard from government officials, medical professionals, and even members of my own family is that we need to live with this virus. Well, maybe they want to catch it several times and play Russian roulette with their immune systems, but I don’t. Do you have any idea how much I think in a day about my body? Like, even before 2020?”

Ed’s scowl is replaced by that confused expression again. The one he wears so often when she’s talking about her health.

“I can’t leave the house without thinking how long we will be,” Cherie continues. “If I’ll need snacks in case hypoglycaemia comes to call. Or if it’s longer, do I pack a small lunch because of my food sensitivities. Then there are my legs. Will they be okay for a cane or should we bring the rollator in case there’s too much walking or standing? Should we bring the combo rollator-wheelchair in case my feet become a neuropathic symphony? Is the place where we’re going accessible at all to let me enter the joint, will the aisles be large enough to move around? Are there going to be searing lights and music that blasts bass into my sterum? That’s part of my normal!”

And then Ed does it. He sighs.

“Okay, you know what?” says Cherie, carefully standing up, “You can go visit the sun. I’m out of here.”

“Whoa, whoa, I didn’t say anything!”

Cherie unfolds the black mobility device until the seat snaps in place. She unlocks the brakes and turns to leave.

Ed puts a hand on each handle, over her hands.

Fire fills her pupils. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.”

He pulls them away as if burned by the flame decals on the chassis.

“Sorry, okay? I just don’t want you to go! We never get out anymore.”

She raises her index finger. “That’s not my fault. You always propose activities that might end in harm for me. Almost every time you suggest something, I need to add to my list of thinking for my body. It stresses me out to no end!”

“Then just stop thinking so much!”

Cherie laughs. It’s not a happy sound. On reflex, Ed takes a step back from her.

“Spoken like someone who has never transitioned from a life before chronic illness and disability,” she says. “Someone who has never had to grieve who they were before they could accept and love their new self as they are. Who has to constantly live in a world that does nearly nothing to accommodate them. Don’t you think I wish I could move out of my front door and not have to prepare in advance for the constant possibility of inaccessibility? I would be a heckin’ lot more laid back if the support needs of folks like me were already woven into spaces!”

Ed sighs again, but this time it doesn’t set Cherie off again.

“Yeah, I know,” he admits, “I don’t really get it. I only want us to be together and just… live.”

“I want that too,” says Cherie. “But I need you to take the protections I need seriously. I bet we could do a ton of things if we put our thinking caps on together.”

His eyes perk.

“I could really use a thinking partner,” she adds.

“Like someone who takes the pressure off you having to think by yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Ed smiles. The breeze from the open window fluffs up his brown swoopy bangs. He reaches into the right pocket of his dark jacket and pulls out a black KN-95 mask.

“I might not be as knowledgeable as you,” he says, putting on the mask, “but I will do my best to help.”

Cherie grins under her mask, but it also shows in her blue-green eyes. “Sometimes I get exhausted from being an ‘educator’ about my criptastickness, but other times, it’s a time investment… for future happiness.”

“Well, I love you, okay? And I offer myself as a willing student. I hope you feel I’m worth the time, clueless wonder that I am.” He winks and reaches out a hand. “May I?”

She clasps it.

“What do you want to do today?” Ed asks.

Cherie looks to the side as the wheels churn in her thoughts. Ed knows enough to be silent and patient when she does this. He sighs a third time, but happily, awaiting her reply.

Deliver Me From This Pandemic Hell © 2023 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction from the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

A whole bunch of wooden Scrabble letters

Awards Eligibility 2022

On 13 Dec 202230 Apr 2023 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn anthology, Awards, disability advocacy, poetry, publishing, short stories, This blog's posts, Writing2 Comments

So, this has been a full year for me, even though my name is only on one book. Since that book happens to be an anthology where I am co-editor, I will already take that as a win! It’s not the quantity, but the quality, as they say. And in the case of this collection, we have both!

Books

Book cover: a watercolour of a brick wall in teal, brown, and beige bricks. Black graffiti says “Nothing without US.” And dark orange-red graffiti says “TOO.” Editors and author names are also on the cover.

Nothing Without Us Too is the second book of Talia C. Johnson’s and my disability fiction series where the authors and their protagonists are disabled, d/Deaf, Blind or visually impaired, neurodivergent, Spoonie, and/or they manage mental illness.

This multi-genre collection has fantasy, space opera, romance, paranormal, and a vampire story that takes a bite out of expected tropes. It also has realistic/literary fiction. But whether LitFic or SpecFic, the characters are relatable and their journeys are unforgettable.

Produced during a pandemic where in real life we disabled and higher-risk creatives were pummelled nearly daily with eugenics-based messaging about how only we were at risk for serious illness, the title of this work feels a declaration for society to remember us in publishing and in this world. Nothing without us, too, folks!

Available at Chapters-Indigo and these online booksellers.

Released: September 2022

Poetry

I versed this year!

Adrift, by Cait Gordon (Polar Borealis Issue 21, May 2022)

This short space opera poem is a metaphor for what neurotypical publishing circles can feel like when one is a neurodivergent person. I drew upon an experience of being at a crossroads several years ago, then realizing the path I had to take. It can often seem like being adrift for a while, until one finds one’s footing. Or the course one must plot!

Here is where you can read the poem. The magazine is a PDF.

That’s it! Here’s anticipating what next year will bring!

Have a happy and safe holiday season.

Cheers!

Cait Gordon is an autistic, disabled, and queer Canadian writer of speculative fiction that celebrates diversity. She is the author of Life in the ’Cosm, The Stealth Lovers, and the forthcoming Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space (2023). Cait also founded the Spoonie Authors Network and joined Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the multi-genre disability fiction anthologies Nothing Without Us and Nothing Without Us Too.

Featured image by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Book acceptance! A new crew is coming in 2023!

On 2 Feb 2022 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn This blog's posts, worldbuilding, Writing7 Comments

I did a teaser trailer about a cool thing that I announced yesterday!

THOSE WITH LIGHT SENSITIVITY: I didn’t have a problem with the flickering border under the text or brief flash of light near the end (I have light sensitivity myself and didn’t find it that intense), but here’s a warning that it starts right after I say, “Get ready for season one,” and the text briefly flashes out toward the screen for the next three panels. If you’re unsure, please do not watch this video.

There is a dramatic score in the background, and what appears to be a whirl of stars in space after the line, “The crew of a certain science vessel tears through space.” The video is mostly text flying onto the screen and there is an audio voice-over of the text.

This is the news: Iris and the Crew will tear through space in the Fall of 2023!

ID: Book advert by Cait Gordon. Aqua background. From left to right: Iris, a platinum-haired woman in a grey uniform with a sash, bending over an aqua robot. Her left hand is on the bot’s head and her right is holding a low-vision cane. Lartha is brown-skinned with half her head shaved, revealing a tattoo that says, “Just try it.” The other half of her head has flowing, wavy magenta locks. She’s wearing a black and grey uniform and aiming a large tubular weapon in front of her. She has two prosthetic limbs, and the left one is a glowing beacon with a short black boot. Davan is blue-skinned with pointed ears and a long trunk. He’s wearing a sleeves amber and grey uniform and waves to his right. Herb is pale skinned with brown and russet wavy hair in chunky layers, just hitting his shoulders. He’s in a baggy green mechanical uniform with pockets. Herb’s back is to us as he points to the tear while trying to get Davan’s attention. Text: Season One, Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space, by Cait Gordon, Coming in the Fall of 2023 — *(Just an advert. Not the cover.)*

I’m so excited for you to meet this crew. I loved writing this first season, although world-building a space opera while inspired by the concept of Universal Design and the Social Model of Disability… during a eugenics-based pandemic on Earth… was… interesting. I found myself diving into Iris’s world just to escape this one. This series is my dream of what things might be like if a society became so accommodating and accessible, they wouldn’t understand the need to use identity-based language for disability. All bodyminds would be celebrated as part of everyday life. They would just… be.

The Iris and the Crew series follows the adventures of a science vessel crew on a massively accessible ship, the S.S. SpoonZ. They are a part of a galactic network known as the Keangal (key’angle), where inclusivity and supports are the norm. But not everyone is living in harmony within the Keangal—most notoriously so are the dreaded Piranha Brigade pirates whose creed is to do away with anyone they consider “weak.” And they’ve discovered a new enemy in Iris and the Crew…

I gobble up so many streaming series, I decided to make one myself, in book form! My hope is to have Blind, Deaf, neurodivergent, and disabled readers find themselves represented as major characters in this story! (I think there might be abled, NT members of that crew somewhere on the ship. I mean, it is inclusive after all.)

Anyway, squeeee!

Voting for the 2020 Prix Aurora Awards is now open!

On 25 Jun 202016 Aug 2020 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Awards, This blog's posts, WritingLeave a comment

I’m really excited about this year’s ballot because I know many of the nominees. That makes it fun for me because there’s an added level of excitement and anticipation.

Also, for the first time ever, I have a work on the ballot! Nothing Without Us is a nominee in the Best Related Work category. Kohenet Talia C. Johnson and I are the editors of this multi-genre collection where the authors and their protagonists identify as disabled, Deaf, neurodiverse, Spoonie, and/or they manage mental illness.

You can learn more about this anthology, read reviews, and check out author interviews at the Nothing Without Us website!

If you’re a member of the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association (CSFFA), you can cast your vote for your favourites to win Prix Aurora Awards in their categories until July 25, 2020, 11:59 pm EDT! To cast your votes and/or find out how to become a member of the CSFFA (only $10 to join), please visit prixaurorawards .ca.

I enthusiastically thank everyone who has supported this anthology—readers, listeners, reviewers, and those who nominated us for this award. You’re sending us a clear message that our voices are also welcome in speculative fiction.

It’s been a wonderful ride for Talia and me.

Good luck and best wishes to all the nominees!

Cait Gordon is a disability advocate who wants everyone to be wise and prevent the spread of COVID-19!

She’s also the author of Life in the ’Cosm and The Stealth Lovers. When Cait’s not writing, she’s editing manuscripts and running The Spoonie Authors Network, a blog whose contributors manage disabilities and/or chronic conditions. She also teamed up with Kohenet Talia C. Johnson to co-edit the Nothing Without Us anthology (now a 2020 Prix Aurora Award nominee) in an attempt to take over the world.

Nothing Without Us is a Prix Aurora Award Nominee! [UPDATED]

On 8 May 202025 Jun 2020 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Awards, This blog's posts, Writing5 Comments

IMPORTANT NEWS! The voters’ reading package is now available for Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association (CSFFA) members! If you become a member now (membership is $10 per year), you can download the works of the nominees! Voting will take place between June 20 and July 25, 2020 (11:59:59 EDT). Don’t forget to vote for your favourite works and creatives. And if you’d like to vote for Nothing Without Us, we’re in the Best Related Work category! Go to the CSFFA website to learn how to become a member! (You must be a Canadian Citizen or Permanent Resident.)

My co-editor (and BFF) Kohenet Talia C. Johnson and myself were just gobsmacked, then boingy, to discover Nothing Without Us had been nominated for a Prix Aurora Award in the Best Related Work category. We are so grateful to our amazing authors and all the supporters of this anthology. It means so much to know that our peers recognize how important it is for creatives who are disabled, Deaf, neurodiverse, Spoonie, and/or who manage mental illness to write protagonists who reflect their identities. So often disabled characters—written by non-disabled authors—are set off to the side (if mentioned at all) and are crafted using harmful tropes. That’s why it’s very encouraging to know this work is supported by the speculative fiction writing community.

So, thanks times a billionty to all those who nominated the anthology! You are all on my list of wonderful humans!

Congratulations to all! The ballot looks stupendous this year!

Okay, I still need to go bounce up and down for a bit. Stay safe and keep well!

Cait Gordon is a disability advocate who wants everyone to pummel that curve!

ID: Mock cover image of Iris and the Crew Tear Space a New One. Text reads: Camp NaNoWriMo Day 30, Final word count: 12, 042

Camp NaNoWriMo Day 30: Why I Feel Like a Winner

On 30 Apr 2020 By Cait (like Kat) GordonIn Health, This blog's posts, WritingLeave a comment

So, my final word count was 12,042. It hasn’t changed since my last update, but do I ever have a good reason for that! (Coming up in my next post, so stay tuned!)

I had set a goal for 40,000 words, knowing it was really ambitious, but I wanted to prod myself a little. As with many creatives who are experiencing all the ups and downs that go with this pandemic, it was difficult for me to focus on writing this month, too.

But that’s so totally okay because I feel like a winner!

Why?

I wrote words! Those are 12,042 new words for my manuscript that weren’t there in March!
I got to know my characters. This is a different world from the ’Cosm series, but I’ve learned to love these characters! I’m very attached to them and hope I’ll write more books with them.
Our writing group came back online. The Inkonceivables is back, which is wonderful, and means they’ll influence me to keep writing. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to read and to listen to works in progress!
I went through a bad spell, but my writing community was there for me! Because of their encouragement, I feel ready to go with drafting the rest of the “episodes” of Iris and the Crew Tear Space a New One! (Read also: My Writing Community Rescued Me Once Again)

So, once more, I’m glad Camp NaNoWriMo came around this April. It served its purpose: getting me back to my keyboard. It also reignited my love for our writing group. I feel all set up to continue my new WIP, and that’s all I could ask for, really.

WOOHOO!

Take care and stay safe, folks.