Floating Doors
No self-promo links today, folks. It doesn’t feel appropriate. Sorry.
I wasn’t going to write anything. Because, what is there to say? A bunch of faceless strangers voted against their own self-interest, from immigrants to cis women. And we probably had Gen Z doing the same given some of the stories heard, including Gen X and Gen Z immigrants. Truth be told, I’m angry at people I have never met and a few immigrants in my city that I have known for years. They knew better.
But then the newsletters came in, from Gabino Iglesias and Diabolical Plots. They expressed the same hurt, anger and betrayal that I was feeling. And they reminded me of something.
Being here is an act of rebellion. Creating is an act of rebellion. Whether you create for yourself by writing stories or drawing or cross-stitch, you are rebelling. Because you assert, “I am here. This is my mark.”
And are you having trouble finding joy? It may take a while to reclaim it. Right now, it’s okay to feel sad, overwhelmed, and despairing. I found out the hard way that maintaining that for four years was bad for my health. So we have to find ways to process the hurt and misery, to save ourselves so we can save each other. If you’ve seen Titanic, we’ve joked about Rose and Jack not being able to share the floating door. But Rose and Jack had to climb onto that door, just like they climbed the sinking ship to escape the water and hostile gunmen.
You are making someone’s life better by existing. Each act of creation fights against this nonsense. We’ll work together, to find those floating doors.