If you’re in Canada, you can visit the 49th Shelf website and click the Shop Local button to discover which indie shops carry it near you. Wherever you are on this rotating orb, maybe you ask if your local indie bookstore can order it for you! (And thanks to all who support the works of disabled creatives.)
When the ebook is released, I will update you all for sure! I have been told there will be an audiobook as well, but that will be released perhaps in 2024. I will keep you posted on all updates!
This is the fifth book with my name on it, and the squeefulness is still there. Maybe even more so because writing a disability hope-punk space opera in the middle of a global pandemic was really something. I can never say that enough. I’m so thrilled to Renaissance for once again believing in my work.
Yay! All the yay!
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.
I’m telling you, it was so hard to keep this information to myself. Both Talia and I felt our brains were going to explode. We were completely stunned to discover that the second anthology we co-edited, Nothing Without Us Too, received a nomination for the 2023 Prix Aurora Award in the Best Related Work category. We had previously received a nomination in the same category for the first anthology, Nothing Without Us, but we did not expect lightning to strike twice!
It was a heck of a mental health journey, curating an anthology of disability fiction during a global pandemic where eugenics messaging was almost daily. We knew how much weight many disabled creatives carried and how hard it was for a lot of us to create at all. So, this anthology feels like a collection of collective resilience. We were so saddened that Melissa Mead died before we could send out our acceptance but are really grateful to her family for letting us include her story, “Pest.” We also dedicated the book to her as well.
So, many emotions emoted during the production of Nothing Without Us Too. And even though awards aren’t everything, and there were so many stellar books that didn’t get nominated, we have to admit that receiving peer recognition of this kind does feel good. Thanks a ton to all who cast their nominations for this work. We do appreciate it!
Now this anthology can join their older sibling, which was a 2020 Prix Aurora Award finalist. I have no idea if Nothing Without Us Too will win in our category, but Talia and I agree that the big win was getting the anthology out there despite so many obstacles set against us. Anything else is bonus!
Voting for the actual Prix Aurora Awards will take place in June. I will keep you posted if you’d like to vote for our work and other amazing works! You just have to be a member of the Canadian Science Fiction and fantasy Association (CSFFA). Canadian citizens and Permanent Residents can apply to be members. It’s only $10 a year! And you can get a voters package with a bunch of free books and stories! Learn more at https://csffa.ca.
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.
I’m just sitting here stunned. In April, I hurled myself into Camp NaNoWriMo with not much heads-up. I had a couple of paragraphs and an illustration for something called Hot Wings and Sauciness. Was this a good idea? Just diving in? Especially since I had been so tied up with health issues and other stressors since the year began?
YES, MUCH GOOD IDEA!
My brain was aching for a creativity stint. I needed to write.
I set a goal of 40K words, which with my chronic pain is hard to do. But holy smokies, I ended up writing 33K words! I also did this:
had a blast
fell in love with these characters
cared for this “throwaway project”
realized I don’t want to throw it away after all
I also accommodated for my pain and fatigue and didn’t write every day. Now I have something that is wonderfully raw and first drafty, and I know how to finish it. This will be my first very short novel and something I want to indie publish in hopes of raising funds for cool projects with the Spoonie Authors Network. Hey, a disabled crone can dream, can’t she?
So yeah, here’s my dashboard as of April 30, 2023:
These NaNoWriMos are great motivators for me. And they not only get me back into the habit of writing but also the desire to write. I’ve been in production mode for two years with Nothing Without Us Too and Season One: Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space, so it’s nice just to play in my wordbox again (like a sandbox but with words).
I’m going to continue with Hot Wings and Sauciness this month, until I have a completed super-duper raw first draft. Like Terry Pratchett said, I’m just telling myself the story right now.
So, there ya go! Whoo!
Remember that we often think too much in a binary way—pass or fail, win or lose. The reality is we need to celebrate all the things. I didn’t “lose” anything! I wrote 33,000 words that weren’t there in March! I got a story to be enthusiastic about. To quote Ted Lasso, my book is a “work-in-prog-mess,” and I couldn’t be more proud.
I challenge you to be proud of yourself today. Go for it. Be shameless.
There’s too much self-bashing in AuthorWorldLand. Let’s try the other way, okay? Be your own cheerleader!
Because I have a strong suspicion other folks think you’re awesome too.
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 a screenshot of my CampNaNoWriMo dashboard.
Let me begin by admitting that I totally forgot it was that month. I say it this way, a bit jaded, because April is often a battleground on Twitter between Autism Mom Warriors and/or autism organizations and/or autism “professionals” trying to speak over adults who are autistic. Sometimes it’s even autistic adults who have formal diagnoses going after those of us who are self-discovered. (To be clear though, there are also many, many diagnosed autistic folks who are overwhelmingly supportive of those who are prevented from getting a diagnosis. And for the most part, autistic culture validates self-discovered or self-Dxed people.) But yeah, because I quit the Twitters, I just plain didn’t remember it was the month of autism awareness, acceptance, and celebration.
Which is kinda funny because at the last second, I decided to participate in Camp NaNoWriMo to write “the awkward space opera romance nobody asked for” known as Hot Wings and Sauciness. Something in my subconscious must have remembered something about April because my female protagonist is a feisty autistic and disabled 50something. (Honestly, I have no idea where I came up with that notion…cough…) Anyway, I’m having fun going back to my absurdist humour roots, but even after the first seven days of writing this character, something cool is happening to me.
I feel really empowered.
It must be something akin to unmasking when an autistic author writes an autistic protagonist. Because my self-confidence is boosted (I know, please run and hide) and my identity is affirmed. Autistic folks can be romantic leads! I also have a romantic subplot in Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space! that starts in “Episode 3: Herbie Tries to Flirt.” And that was cathartic for me to write as well. Even though I purposely have no cited diagnoses in my Iris and the Crew series, I did reflect my neurodivergence onto Herb and a couple of other characters.
But Colleen O’Donnell in Hot Wings is written differently. (Why, it’s almost like we autistics are not a monolith!) I think I’ve just slammed my foot on the gas for this lead. She’s from Earth in the not-so-distant future, so it’s not an idyllic world-building. And this gives me a chance to vent some feelings through her about disability and acceptance. But, it’s funny too. Well, it’s absolutely ridiculous at times. Humour is a great vehicle for storytelling. It’s my fave, really.
I also find with ripping off the mask comes untold freedom, whether in real life or through characters. And honestly, with so many non-autistic folks thinking they know people like me, but who really do not, if I don’t represent myself on the page, I will just shut down.
My voice deserves to be out there, not held back.
I have no idea if I will ever publish Hot Wings and Sauciness, but I am so glad I’m giving it a whirl. As with several of my short stories and especially with Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space, I am writing for myself first. To soothe my spirit through storytelling. That has to by my priority. It’s self-care and self-love. Then, if I feel ready, I will happily invite others to come along for the ride by putting it out in the world.
For now, I am just going to enjoy celebrating my autistic self, by creating art. It feels like the right thing to do.
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.
So far, 2023 has been a whirlwind of drama from all dimensions. I’ve been on antibiotics for five out of twelve weeks (hopefully, it’s all over now), I yeeted Twitter into the stratosphere, I set even more boundaries on social media, I did several virtual panels and a reading, and I’ve been working on the cover design illustration for Sesaon One: Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space!
Time for a rest, right?
Well, I have decided to go camping. Camp NaNoWriMo style, that is!
I have been benevolently threatening to write a romance novel for years now. While I add romantic elements in all of my novels, I’m not really a romance author. And guess what? I’m still not! As if that’s gonna stop me from trying a thing this month!
My project is a 40K-ish novel titled Hot Wings and Sauciness. It’s the awkward space opera romance nobody asked for! Whoo! I’m going back to my roots of silliness but adding some spice too—a romance through the filter of my autistic brain. In fact, the protagonist, Colleen O’Donnell, is a snarky and saucy space station technician in her 50s who is autistic and disabled. Perfect leading lady, imo.
What?
Anyway, she hasn’t been in a relationship in years but isn’t bothered about that at all. Yet, one day on the job as she’s heading to service an air filtration unit for a melodramatic dowager countess, her friend ’Brina messages her to be on the alert for “Captain Hot Wings.” ’Brina even calls him a potential match for Colleen. Of course, Colleen dismisses the idea of this Adonis right away, but her brain keeps nudging her to be curious.
But there’s not much time to think of this guy. ’Brina and Sharon have invited a bunch of their friends, including Colleen, out for a hen party to celebrate their upcoming nuptials. And no better place to go than the Coq of the Walk, which features exotic male dancers and the best chicken wings in the solar system. Colleen would rather shave her eyelids than head there, but she’ll go along to support her friend.
Little does she know their group will all be at this hen party… dressed as hens.
Colleen then discovers an entire spectrum of being unimpressed while a stranger behind her cannot help but be amused at the expression on her face.
So, yeah, it’s absurdist and ridiculous, and a much-needed project. I have been so hard at work during this pandemic with the Nothing Without Us Too anthology and Iris and the Crew, it’s time to go back to my roots of playful and absurd humour. It’s also nice to have a protagonist who shares my neurotype, age, and disability. I can just put my foot on the gas and vrrrm!
I have about 3K written so far and will write more this afternoon!
A camping I will go!
(I love NaNoWriMo for motivation. Have you had good experiences? Let me know in the comments!)
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 a screen grab of my Camp NaNoWriMo dashboard
On March 15, I had the great honour of being one of the guest authors at the award-nominated and wonderful ephemera reading series. I was sick as heck (but hey, when am I not) and still had a blast!
I am the first author to read, but I strongly encourage you to watch the entire thing. The other guest authors are Eric Choi and Jae Waller! And there’s a cool performance by Cristianna and Josh Formeller.
It’s my first-ever public reading of Season One: Iris and the Crew Tear Through Space, and I chose an excerpt from “Episode 5: Beachfront Learns a Thing.” It stars junior security officer Lieutenant Marq Bronwryck. He comes from wealth and privilege and considers himself above everyone and everything—even chief of security Lieutenant Commander Leanna Lartha (hard to imagine that because she’s freaking awesome). He might also think he’s above needing protective equipment when a mysterious mist invades the shuttle he’s in with Lieutenant Sasha. But hey, who needs a mask, right? Not like they’ve ever been important…cough.
Hope you enjoy it! There are closed captions, but auto-generated captions misspell stuff, unfortunately. I included the excerpt of my story below the embedded video.
Transcript of my reading (Episode 5, Beachfront Learns a Thing, by Cait Gordon, advanced copy courtesy of Renaissance)
Content note for ableist attitude, and characters experiencing pain, discomfort, and/or anxiety
After being released from Medical, Marq Bronwryck was fortunately not sent back there by Lartha, but was threatened with a dishonourable discharge—through an empty weapons bay. It had been made abundantly clear to him that because of some admiral’s impending arrival, Security Chief Lartha had no time or resources to dedicate to Bronwryck’s dismissal. This discourse had even been done remotely through a comm because she had been so busy. However, she would have no problem bringing up a discharge plea to the captain once the soon-arriving admiral had been escorted to their destination.
So, his only option was to smarten up. He definitely couldn’t face his family after a dishonourable discharge. What would everyone say at the club? The shame upon him and his family would render them social outcasts.
Bronwryck wandered about random corridors since he would only be on duty in an hour. He moped inwardly, blaming everyone but himself for this current situation. Sasha, for veering into that weird nebula-turned-swarm thing; Rivers and Rennick, for overreacting and keeping him in sick bay; and Lartha, for being such a grouch all the time.
He shuffled around a corner and without warning, collapsed to the floor, clenching his thighs. The air fled his lungs and when he looked up, he saw his superior officer chatting into her arm band, a short distance away. Her back was to him.
“Yeah, we’re gonna have to step it up when the admiral comes on board. We’ll be a flagship when they arrive, and I want no sloppiness, Reez.” Lartha rubbed her thighs with an almost imperceptible wince. “Absolutely. Let’s get on that for sure.” She limped over to a reddish-orange horizontal stripe that spanned the corridor wall, one of many that were ubiquitous on the ship. She placed her right palm on it and said, “Chair.”
“What type?” said the AI.
“Hover.”
A hover-chair materialized in front of her. Lartha sat down and continued her conversation with Lieutenant Reez as she zipped away.
The pain in Bronwryck’s legs vanished. What in the worlds? He stood up and leaned against a wall, watching her.
Down the far end of the corridor, a woman with a walking stick exhaled with a whistle, then tapped her cane in a certain pattern. The corridor’s Accessible Tech stripe illuminated by her. She signed, “Chair.”
Text appeared on the stripe. “What kind?”
“Motor.”
A motorized wheelchair appeared before the woman, and she sat in it, just as Lartha approached her. The security chief signed her greeting, and they high-fived each other with a laugh as their chairs passed.
When the woman neared Bronwryck, she greeted him, and he signed back. But as soon as her chair got closer, a sensation overtook him at once that felt like searing vibrating rods had been impaled in his hips, knees, and ankles.
The other officer didn’t notice as she had stopped to text into her armband. Then she rapidly turned the corner.
Bronwryck’s cheeks streamed with tears. And suddenly, again, the pain disappeared. Did I work out too hard this morning? I’ve never had muscle and joint stuff that just came and went, though.
“Good morning, Lieutenant Bronwryck,” said Iris.
He yelped, not expecting her to be there, turned to face her, then immediately clutched his head.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Bronwryck closed his eyes and opened them. “Ahh!” He blinked a few times and tried again. “Okay, what is this? What’s going on with me today???”
Iris took his arm gently. “Whatever it is, I’m here! What can I do to help?”
“First pain, like lots of it. Then none. And now, everything’s like, hyper-clear, my vision I mean. It’s making me really dizzy!”
“Right, I’m calling Medical.” Iris pressed her palm against the AT-stripe and said, “Transport chair.”
Once again, a chair appeared.
“I got a transport one because I’d like to take you there myself,” Iris explained.
“Help me! I don’t want to open my eyes ’cause I can’t focus without wanting to barf!”
“Don’t worry,” said Iris, then spoke into her forearm band. “Urgent Care, this is Lieutenant Iris.”
“Receiving, Lieutenant Iris. What is the nature of your urgency?”
“I’m bringing in Lieutenant Marq Bronwryck. He’s experiencing severe dizziness from what appears to be sudden onset visual hyper-acuity.”
“Copy that. We’ll be ready for him.”
“Thank you. Iris out.”
Bronwryck trembled. Iris patted his shoulder.
“Don’t be alarmed,” she said. “We’ll figure this out.”
“I’m not scared,” he lied. “I will beat this!”
Iris made a face. “Or you’ll adapt. I did.”
“Lieutenant Iris, report to the command deck. Lieutenant Iris, report to the command deck.”
“Oh, fweep.”
“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” cried Bronwryck.
“Um, just hold on a second.” Iris peered from side to side, then smiled with relief as she spotted Davan down the corridor. She called out to get his attention.
He smiled with his eyes, then switched to an expression of surprise, noticing Bronwryck in the transport hover-chair. “What is going on?” he signed while running toward them.
Bronwryck tried to respond but found he couldn’t create audible words with his mouth. His eyes fired out his alarm.
“I can’t speak, I can’t speak,” he signed.
Davan titled his head, perplexed. “No, you’re doing just fine. I can understand you completely.”
“No, no,” Bronwryck signed. “I can’t form words with my vocal cords!”
Iris frowned and held her chin for a moment before signing, “Davan, I have to go to the bridge. Will you please escort Bronwryck to Medical? And better update them. It started as pain, then his vision, and now his oral communication is affected.”
“Sure. I can take him,” signed Davan.
“Good, thanks!” she signed. “Okay, Lieutenant, you’re safe as houses with Commander Davan. You’ll get answers soon enough, I’m sure of it,” she said.
“Thank you,” he signed miserably.
Iris and Davan exchanged a glance, then she darted off to the nearest lift.
As soon as she left, Bronwryck’s vision returned to how he’d always experienced it. He sighed with relief. He tried telling Davan, but his vocal cords would still not obey. He reached out to touch Davan’s arm.
Davan stopped guiding the transport chair and stood in front of Bronwryck.
“You want to tell me something?” the commander signed.
“My vision is okay,” signed Bronwryck.
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“My vision is normal.”
“Uhhh…” Davan spelled.
“I still can’t talk out loud, though. I can only sign. This sucks.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Wow, you’re really a winner, aren’t you?”
Bronwryck jolted in his chair. “Who said that?” he signed. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” signed Davan.
“That voice!”
“I didn’t hear anything. Is your thought-receiver activated?”
Bronwryck checked. “No. But it felt like it was.”
“Let’s get you to Medical.”
“Can you please explain to me what you’re experiencing?” asked the triage nurse.
“Well, I had this weird nerve thing in my legs, but then it disappeared. Next, my vision made me feel I could see through time, but then it got back to usual. And now I can’t communicate,” Bronwryck signed.
“You’re communicating fine,” she signed back.
“No, I mean out loud.”
“Can you show me what happens when you try to speak orally?”
Bronwryck opened his mouth. “Right, I… hey! I can talk! What the gleek? Why is everything stopping and restarting for me?”
“I can’t say for sure,” said the nurse, “but we’ll keep you here for observation. I know Doctor Rivers will want to perform some tests and give you a full examination.”
“But I had one when Sasha and I got quarantined. No virus or anything. Can’t I just return for duty now?”
“Sit tight,” said the nurse. “I’ll get the doctor.”
“Fine,” he said and folded his arms yet again in a right sulk.
“Caught on yet, genius?”
Bronwryck yelped and glanced around the room. He removed his pocket scanner and searched for life signs. It seemed like it was just him in the room. Then he remembered that Engineering had tweaked the capabilities of Security’s scanners, under the new configuration Lieutenant Commander Herbert had designed. Bronwryck modified his settings to allow for the fullest detection of organic sentient life.
Instead of one reading, his own, there were now two.
“Hello, you razor-sharp thing, you!”
The junior security officer leapt off his chair.
“HELP, HELP ME!” he screamed.
The voice inside his head merely groaned.
“Well, this is peculiar,” Doctor Rivers muttered while studying the readings in his examination room. Holographic, floating touch-displays eased the pressure on his finger joints and could be brought to whatever position he was at, whether sitting or standing. And this afternoon, the equipment had been modified with the parameters gleaned from Herb’s upgrades of Security’s handheld scanner.
Bronwryck lay very still on the cot. He was afraid to move.
“I still can’t make out anything,” said Rivers. “Are you sure you got two readings?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
“No need to shout. It’s just that I’m not picking up a secondary life form.”
“Oh, fine.”
Rivers jerked his head. “Ah, there we go!”
“And did you hear the voice?” asked Bronwryck.
“Voice? No. But I can make out a blip on your anterior insular cortex. In your brain configuration, it plays a strong role in helping you process things like compassion, empathy…”
“Should I explain what those are? Because it’s like a void in here.”
“Hey!” said Bronwryck. “That’s not very nice.”
“What did I say?” said Rivers. “This is actually the location on your brain scan.”
“No, not you. I was talking to the thing.”
“The thing? Now who’s not being nice?!”
Bronwryck clutched his head. “You’re sure you can’t hear it, Doctor Rivers?”
“I am not an ‘it.’”
“Sorry. What’s your pronouns?”
“He/him,” said Rivers.
“Not you!”
Rivers gestured like he was about to give up on the conversation. “What is going on? Who are you addressing?”
“We refer to ourselves as ‘I’, or ‘we’ as a group, but we never refer to other individuals of our species with a pronoun. Only by our name. You may call me Maddox.”
“Lieutenant Bronwryck?” asked Rivers.
The security officer took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He raised his head to face the doctor. “Yeah, okay, so I’m talking to Maddox.”
“Who’s that?”
“The blip on my brain scan.”
“Of all the beings to cohabitate in symbiosis for life, this is the brain-meat I end up with.”
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 S.S. SpoonZ, drawn by Cait Gordon
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.
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.
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!
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.
Okay, sorry to visit my anxiety on you. That wasn’t nice.
But I have so many feelings right now! My current novel is in production and should be in the world this September. I’m immersed in that familiar whirlwind of getting all the edits done, sending eARCs for blurbers, gathering info for my publisher for the distributor…these are all good problems, yet, EEK! This means people will be introduced to Iris and the Crew this year!
While I have had extremely positive and enthusiastic feedback on this first “season” of this series, I always get terrified about new book releases. This will be my third title as an author (I had two additional titles as a co-editor), and after going through production five times since 2016, you would think I would have become more laidback by now.
And you would be wrong! (LOL, I am such a mess.)
It’s also the first book I wrote during the pandemic. The world-building has no cure narratives and does have bodymind celebration, and accessible ship, and pew-pew-pew! In the Keangal, we make space accessible! On Earth… well, you know how I feel about accessibility on Earth… It always blows my mind how I can’t even open most doors by myself in this city.
Anyway, so much is different for me with this book. I have never drawn episode sketches before. Heck, I’ve never written chapters like episodes before! I also have more aliens who resemble humans this time. And instead of one disabled or neurodivergent character, I have an ensemble cast of stars with a gorgeous diversity of bodyminds!
By the way, sensitivity editors are gifts to humankind. Without them, I would be trapped in a vortex of overthinking. Hug a sensitivity editor today! (But only with their consent, of course.)
So, yeah, I’m all whirwindy and stuff, so this blog isn’t my most eloquent piece. In summary: book happening, full of eek.
Okay, I have to have a meeting with a sensitivity editor now. 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.
“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.
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.
Cait Gordon—author and editor 