All The News! Cover Reveal, Tattoo, Print Copies etc….

Hello, everyone! Long time, no blog! I’ve been taking it easy, enjoying my new place, intermittently battling the great depression beast, as you do. I haven’t been writing at all, something I hope will change soon, but I have been editing and preparing for a couple of new releases, as well as preparing for GRNW in September! So, to that end, I have a bunch of stuff to share with you guys! Hold on, lemme get my camera.

Okay, so first off, these babies arrived:

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They are gorgeous, and I wish I could bring them with me to GRNW, but they don’t come out until November! *pout* But I think I’m going to see about maybe doing an advance giveaway possibly maybe. We’ll see. Anyway, next up is these!

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Please ignore the typo on the back. Oh great, now you can’t because I drew attention to it. Go me. I seriously can’t believe I didn’t notice that but… ah well, what can you do? Nobody’s perfect. They are still glorious and rainbow, and I’ll probably be handing them out at GRNW (with candy bribes attached!)

ALSO, I’m going to be on a panel at GRNW! It’ll be Trans Authors on Characters, Stories and Industry. We have an amazing line-up of trans authors, and it should be a pretty great panel! I’ll also be at the book fair selling books and just hanging out, if you want to come and talk to me!

So JUNIOR HERO BLUES is coming out November 7th (go pre-order!) but I also have another romance novella coming out sometime after that! No blurb or release date yet, but I just got the cover, so I have to show it off! It’s by the wonderful Aisha Akeju who like, takes images directly out of my brain and turns them into covers (she is obviously a witch) and this one is no different!

SeaLover

Perfect, right? Sea Lover is a fairly low-key, sweet romance between a seal-merman and a reclusive fisherman who finds him on the beach. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I can’t wait to share more!

And finally, in personal matters, I finally got a new tattoo!

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Taking pictures of your right arm with your left hand: surprisingly difficult. Anyway, it’s based off of the designs at Newgrange, and I couldn’t be more in love with how it came out. The placement, the size, even the fact that it looks like it was drawn by a human, and not a machine, are all exactly what I wanted. I actually didn’t know the exact placement I wanted going in, so I let the artist (Deborah at Unicus Studios) decide how it would look best, and she came up with this kind of off-centre position that I think looks so great and organic.

This one hurt like a mother-fucker too. Inside arm, and she had to start with a thin line and then go over it multiple times to thicken them. Ouch. It’s still quite tender and sore today, but it seems to be healing well. You can tell in the picture it’s still at that awkward healing, slightly swollen stage, but I’ll post photo updates on my twitter  to show how it comes out!

Thanks everyone for reading! 2016 has been an awesome year so far, and I hope it continues that way. Stay tuned for more info about Sea Lover, and a Junior Hero Blues giveaway.

Oh, and one more thing. No blog post is complete without this face:

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She loves the camera.

Dropping Out

Let’s talk about college. There’s a lot of pressure in life to attend college, especially if you do well in school. People say that you don’t need to study creative writing to be an author, but most of the authors I interact with do have a degree in something, or are studying to get one. I’m always incredibly impressed when someone mentions that they have a degree in something. But I also always feel a bit guilty and uncomfortable. Everyone around me seems to be this accomplished graduate, and here I am, a college drop-out. Is there something wrong with me that I couldn’t finish university? Am I not very smart? Am I lazy, or pathetic? It’s taken me a long time to convince myself that those things aren’t true. There are a lot of factors that contributed to me not enjoying or completing college. It wasn’t for me, and at the end of the day, I have to allow myself to believe that that’s okay. That it doesn’t make me any less important or intelligent. But sometimes it can be hard.

I always expected I would go to college or university. It wasn’t really a question, just something that was in my future. I assume it’s this way for most kids who do fairly well in school. I was smart, I liked reading and writing, I wanted to be an author, but I’d been told from every angle that that wasn’t a valid career goal. I knew I liked writing though, so an English degree seemed like the next logical step for me after graduating.

I was offered a scholarship for the first year of university in my hometown, but I declined it against the wishes of my parents, in favour of moving to a different town and staying with an aunt and uncle while I attended college there. At the time I was closeted, and terrified that my family would find out that I was queer and punish me. I lived in a constant state of stress and terror. I still have anxiety talking about my queerness because I was so terrified that someone might find out. Moving away seemed like a way to relieve stress and escape. Unfortunately, living with my aunt and uncle was even worse, with my aunt becoming extremely controlling and manipulative. Eventually I had no choice but to get away. I rented a basement suite with my partner and got out of there.

Of course then I was suddenly thrust into trying to learn how to care for myself, and save up enough to pay for school, all while knowing that if I somehow ended up with not enough money, I would either be out on the street or have to go back to my family. The idea of having to do so still fills me with incredibly anxiety. So I started working 24-30 hours a week, while still attending school in the next town over, carpooling in every morning and spending 8 hours a day on campus.

If you went to university and had someone paying your tuition and/or living expenses during, I can’t really ask you to understand how incredibly physically and emotionally draining it can be trying to support yourself while also putting yourself through school. You work long hours for minimal pay, only to turn around and give all that money away again so that you can do even more work for free. Maybe some people who are stronger mentally than me might have been able to do it, but I don’t handle stress well. Even now, I have to very carefully limit how much I do, so that I don’t burn out and fall into a dark chasm of depression and exhaustion that is incredibly hard to drag myself out of.

University for me was just one long haze of dark, early mornings, constantly feeling sick to my stomach, trying to force myself to be enthusiastic about the subject matter when all I could think about was how cold and sick I felt, and how much I wanted to sleep forever. I didn’t eat enough, usually just heating up a frozen lunch halfway through the day and then falling into bed when I got home without bothering to cook anything. One of the things my abusive aunt had impressed into me was that it was bad to spend too much money on food, and that buying food from a restaurant, or basically eating anything besides what she chose to feed me was bad. It took me years to get over that and allow myself to spend enough money on food to keep myself properly functioning. Sometimes I had to take the greyhound home and would walk half an hour (in the dark and cold in winter) to the station and stand there in the cold outside the closed station waiting for the bus that was often extremely late. I also often worked late hours at work and had to walk about an hour to get home afterwards, again in the cold. (I know, I sound whiny, but my point isn’t really about how horrible it was so much as how physically exhausting it was, and physical exhaustion for me, is what makes me unable to fight depression.)

In the middle of all this, out of desperation and a need to escape our reality, my partner and I started telling each other stories. When we should have been working on our school work, we hid ourselves away in one of the few pitiful lounge areas at our small community-college-turned-university and told each other sexy, fun stories about magical people and worlds. One of those stories was what would become The Fairy Gift. I told it quickly over a couple of days, and liked it so much that I decided to write an outline of the plot. Then, on a whim, I started writing it. I hadn’t written anything in years, too busy with work, too stressed to imagine anything. But I was inspired. I wrote the Fairy Gift, and then I kept writing, more cute stories, with fairies and magic and sex. They kept me going.

Then, out of sheer dumb luck, I found myself redirected from deviantart to a yaoi website (yaoifix, I think?) and saw an advertisement for Less Than Three Press, and that they were accepting submissions. I clicked through and looked at a few of their books, and thought that The Fairy Gift seemed perfect for them. I decided why not and submitted a horribly edited draft, but they must have seen something they liked in it, because it was accepted for publication. So cool! I was damn excited and even more damn skeptical. I’d had a friend who submitted a piece of poetry for some kind of publication that turned out to be a scam, and I was terrified that this was something similar. I also at the time had this idea that publication was something that only happened to one author in a million and, as I said, I didn’t believe that it was a real career goal. I didn’t realise that I’d been lucky enough to stumble into the publishing revolution that is romance ebooks. So I was skeptical up until the moment I received my first paycheck. Then everything changed for me.

I realised that this was something that I could do and make money off of. It was a real career goal. Suddenly my priorities shifted away from school, away from the dream of a degree with which I would get some nebulous English-related job that I didn’t really want. I wanted to keep writing. I wanted to publish more books. I needed to make writing my priority. I was slowly drowning in schoolwork, losing weight and falling into a depression that it’s taken me years to crawl out of. I ended up dropping out of two of my classes, and barely passing the other two. That summer I came out to my family, over the safety of the internet, and felt a huge weight lifted off me. I was still writing, and I decided to take a “semester off” school.

I haven’t gone back yet.

And I’m better now. Better than I have been for years. School didn’t work for me. Certainly I had the triple handicap of being poor, queer and mentally ill. But also (and it’s incredibly hard for me to say this, because it’s usually such a source of pride for an intellectual) I’m just not in love with learning. I’m in love with creating, and often learning is an important part of that, but it’s not the end goal. I spent so many years as a pretentious asshole, thinking I was better than everyone because I loved to read and was “going places,” and there’s an incredibly strong culture of superiority amongst students and intellectuals that encourages this. But for me it’s really freeing to finally be able to say this: I’m happy working in customer service. I’m satisfied emotionally with a simple life and a non-prestigious job. I’m not strong enough emotionally to push myself to my limits like some people are. I just want to live and support myself, and write and create worlds. Probably I’ll never write a great, thought-provoking classic. But I want to write stories that make people happy, and maybe one day I’ll be able to do it full-time.

And I want to say this to other young people who might be struggling with school: It’s okay. It’s okay if it’s not for you. Everyone might be saying this is what you have to do, but that doesn’t mean it is. If you’re truly happy learning, then that’s wonderful. If you hate it, but you really want that degree and that job, then keep going. But if you can feel yourself dying inside with every essay you write, if you feel like this thing is sucking away your life, then you have permission to stop. If you need to stop to preserve yourself, and your mental well-being, then stop. You can always go back, if you want to. Maybe you’ll want to, and maybe you won’t. If you’re happiest with a simple, low-stress minimum wage job, then there’s no shame in that. If you’re a writer, and you’re doing this because you feel like you’ll never be a great author if you don’t, please know that that’s not true. College isn’t everything. You can still be an amazing, smart, happy person without a college degree. I know I am.


This is long and dense, and I don’t know if anyone will read it. But I do think it’s important, so I’m going to post it anyway. Love you all, and if you read this far, thank you for reading! In thanks, have an advertisement for my book, and then a picture of my cat.

Cheers!

JK


To Summon Nightmares

To Summon Nightmares

Three years ago, Cohen Brandwein was “Ireland’s Favorite Daughter”, a popular teenage author and internet celebrity. But ever since he came out publicly as trans, the media’s treatment of him has been less than golden, and these days, Cohen is desperate for escape.

When he inherits an old house in the country, Cohen sees it as a perfect opportunity to escape the press and work on his new book. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in a small town murder mystery and falling for the primary suspect, a man whose reality makes Cohen’s fantasy books seem like child’s play…

Wordcount: 53,000
Price: $5.99
Genre: Paranormal, Fantasy, Trans, M/M
Excerpt
Buy Here

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Her majesty.

Imposter Syndrome, Being Femme and Non-binary

Have you heard of imposter syndrome? If you’re an author, you probably have. Wikipedia defines it as “a psychological phenomenon in which people are unable to internalize their accomplishments.” Authors often believe that they’re not actually a good enough writer to be published, someone obviously made a mistake somewhere along the line, and any minute now they’re going to be exposed as a fraud and kicked out of the author club for good.

What you might not know, is that something very similar often affects transgender people. Not exactly the same, obviously, since being transgender isn’t really an accomplishment, but it’s the idea that while other people with the same experiences or symptoms as you are obviously transgender, and who they say they are, you are obviously faking it. Why? Well, who knows really, but you obviously are.

For instance, for about five minutes yesterday, I became convinced that I’m not actually non-binary because I didn’t identify that way as a child. Never mind that I did actually, I just didn’t have the words for it, my brain will skew my memories in order to try to convince me that I’m not really trans, that I’m just faking it for attention. And I know, anyway, that plenty of trans people didn’t identify as trans as a child. But for those few moments, my brain was desperate to come up with something, anything, to convince me that what I feel isn’t really valid, and that I’m just a fake. This happens to binary and non-binary trans folk alike, but it’s particularly prevalent among NB folks who don’t fit the standard narrative of what a trans person is supposed to be.

The technical definition of a transgender person is “a person who identifies as a gender other than what they were assigned at birth.” That paints a nice, broad stroke of trans people, including non-binary folk, agender, genderfluid etc etc. But the mainstream idea of a trans person is still “a person who rejects the body they were born with/feels trapped in their body, and takes medical steps to transition including hormones and surgery.” This person will also always present in a way which ensures that they pass as the gender they identify as, wearing traditionally masculine/feminine clothing, cutting their hair in an appropriate style, binding breasts or wearing a padded bra, tucking etc.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with people who do identify and present this way. I’m not saying that. But people who don’t follow all those steps, or who don’t feel like they fit into one binary gender or the other, are often thrown under the bus, labelled “transtenders” and told that they’re just faking it for attention. Even on areas of the internet commonly thought of as a safe space for people like me, like tumblr, these attitudes still crop up.

And let’s get this straight. Being part of the trans community is great. You get support, other people who understand you, a community that you can be a part of. But the downside is that you do have to be trans (which for plenty of people, comes with acute dysphoria) in a world where people are constantly laughing you off, calling you a liar, a fake and an abomination. I’m not saying that no one would ever choose to be trans. But it’s not all fun and games. It’s definitely not something that a person would choose just because it sounds like fun.

I should add though, that even if a person does initially start out identifying as trans just because they feel it will help them fit in, or they want to explore their gender identity, that has to be fine as well. The only way to ever come to the realisation that one is trans is to try it on and see if it fits. So everyone should have the opportunity to do so.

So, what with being called out for being fake and a pretender by both myself and others, I sometimes get the desire to prove myself as non-binary. Especially since I am someone who was both assigned female and birth, and presents as largely female.

I did go through a phase where I tried to present as androgynous. I failed hopelessly at it. Why? Two reasons.

1. I’m a 34DD. Let that sink in. Try to hide that under a binder. It doesn’t work. A sports bra flattens them down a bit, but they’re there, and they’re always going to show.

2. I’m a feminine person. I just am. I like pretty earrings and make-up, which is something about me that has nothing to do with my gender identity, but when paired with an afab (assigned female at birth) body, distinctly marks me as female. I didn’t like having to give up being pretty, wearing make-up, wearing clothes and accessories that weren’t all bland muted colours. Because here’s the thing: You don’t realise how incredibly fragile masculinity is until you’ve attempted to fit into it. Especially for someone who is already in danger of being read as female, any hint of femininity destroys the illusion. I had to change the colour of my ipod case because it was too bright of a blue. And at that point I decided fuck it. Why should I force myself to be completely masculine, just so I can be read as androgynous? Why does our androgyny skew so far towards masculine anyway? Why are pants and a watch androgynous, while a skirt and earrings aren’t?

The truth is, you can’t win at being androgynous. Not unless you’re willing to give up your own personal style to fit into society’s incredibly narrow and limited idea of what androgyny is. So fuck it.

Yeah, I wear make-up, and earrings and pretty clothes. You know who else does? Drag queens and lots of gay men who still identify as male. And that’s the real point here: gender identity and gender presentation are two completely different things. I am a non-binary person who presents as female because it fits with my style, and because it’s convenient for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am non-binary. Trans people don’t have to dress in a requisite masculine or feminine style in order to be valid in their gender identity.

I go to work every day as a female. I’m read as female, and I introduce myself as a female, and it’s fine. Then I come home and I take off my costume. I go back to being myself. But the breasts won’t come off. I go online and present myself as non-binary, and someone writes that they think non-binary people are just confused and don’t exist. I look at myself in the mirror naked, and see not a man or a woman, but a person who’s body parts just don’t quite fit. And that’s when the dysphoria starts.


As well as being about evil organisations and demons and such, my upcoming book To Summon Nightares also explores transgender themes like dysphoria, and how it relates to relationships and sex. It’s out November 5th, from Less Than Three Press. See blurb and buy links below. Thanks for reading!

To Summon Nightmares

Three years ago, Cohen Brandwein was “Ireland’s Favorite Daughter”, a popular teenage author and internet celebrity. But ever since he came out publicly as trans, the media’s treatment of him has been less than golden, and these days, Cohen is desperate for escape.

When he inherits an old house in the country, Cohen sees it as a perfect opportunity to escape the press and work on his new book. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in a small town murder mystery and falling for the primary suspect, a man whose reality makes Cohen’s fantasy books seem like child’s play…

Read an Excerpt
Pre-order (save 15%)
Print (save 25%)
All Romance Ebooks
Goodreads

And of course, where would this blog be without pictures of my cat? I did another photoshoot and told her to pose but … well, you know how it is.

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Libraries, Queer Books and Me

So today I want to talk a little bit about my Queer Origin Story. The whole story is long and sordid and probably quite boring, honestly, but I want to talk specifically about books.

Okay, first, go read this post by E.E. Ottoman on getting queer romances into local libraries, because it’s a great post, and their questions at the end got me thinking about my history with queer books, and how important they were to me.

Like a lot of authors, I was a voracious reader as a child. I started with the Magic Tree House books in grade three and basically never stopped. My mother took me to the public library in our town (which, looking back, was pretty damn huge and awesome, thought I didn’t realise it at the time) and I took out a stack of books every few weeks, and read through them in short order. My mom often joked that we were keeping the place in business with all the late fees we paid, but at least that didn’t stop her from taking me.

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This is what the library in my hometown looks like, by the way. It’s kind of like a giant, rectangular geode.

I continued reading all the way into high-school, when I made my way from the children’s section of the library over to the special “teen” section. And it was there, and in my high-school library, that I first encountered queer characters.

I wish I could remember the names of the books I read. Have this quote by Neil Gaiman instead:

“Stories you read when you’re the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you’ll forget precisely what happened, but if a story touches you it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind that you rarely ever visit.”
Neil Gaiman

It’s pretty accurate. I remember the characters, the words, could even recite some of them probably. But I can’t remember the titles or the authors. Sometimes I’ll scour goodreads or amazon looking for them. But, like the quote says, they stayed with me, touched me, and left a very powerful nostalgia behind. In fact, most of the books I remember reading as a teenager had LGBT characters. I don’t know if it’s just because my libraries had a good selection of them, or because I was particularly drawn to LGBT stories, even though it often wasn’t hinted at in the blurb. I suspect though, that those are just the books I remember the strongest. The ones that really deeply affected me.

I grew up in a Christian household where homosexuals were people who made the choice to sin. I was taught to judge, to condemn, to pity. I grew up haughty, believing myself better than others because of my faith. But when I read these books, I saw the world through the characters’ eyes. I understood them, felt sympathy, even though in my mind I felt compelled to judge and condemn them. Maybe that conflict that happened in my mind every time I read a gay character is what caused them to be burnt into my subconscious. Without a doubt, it changed my opinions on homosexuality, which in turn made my own coming out just a little less painful. I didn’t actually believe I was evil, or that what I was doing and feeling was a sin. Why? Because I had read about characters like me. Characters who were good and normal and, every now and then, got to have their own happy end.

I absolutely believe that books can change people, and the world, for the better. I write queer characters not just because I enjoy them, but because I believe that through them, people might be able to gain sympathy for others, and understanding of themselves. And as a kid, libraries were my pathway to those books. I’ll be forever grateful to the authors of those books, and the librarians who made them available to me.


Promo time! My book, To Summon Nightmares, which features a bisexual transgender main character, a fairly evil demon, a really evil organisation, some bad-ass ladies, and quite a few more summoning rituals than is widely recommended, is out November 5th. To Summon Nightmares

Three years ago, Cohen Brandwein was “Ireland’s Favorite Daughter”, a popular teenage author and internet celebrity. But ever since he came out publicly as trans, the media’s treatment of him has been less than golden, and these days, Cohen is desperate for escape.

When he inherits an old house in the country, Cohen sees it as a perfect opportunity to escape the press and work on his new book. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in a small town murder mystery and falling for the primary suspect, a man whose reality makes Cohen’s fantasy books seem like child’s play…

Pre-order here!
Read an Excerpt
Goodreads

Thanks for reading! Have another cat picture.

We got her a new couch.

We bought her a new couch the other day. She’s very appreciative.

1 Month Countdown! – My Fears about Publishing Trans Romance

To Summon Nightmares comes out in just over a month, and I’m filled with both excitement and trepidation.

I’m excited because I honestly believe that it’s a great book, and I can’t wait to share it with the world. It’s probably the best book I’ve ever written, and at the time of writing it, it definitely was. There was a flow to the writing that hadn’t been there before. I knew what I was doing, and although I ended up having to scrap and rewrite quite a bit, I felt confident in my ability to make it To Summon Nightmaresbetter, and to really write something good. I believe that confidence is one of the best tools that an author can have. To make the audience believe that you know what you’re doing, to make the audience trust you, is invaluable.

On top of that I’ve had a couple of people who read early versions go out of their way to tell me how much they liked it, and that it was one of their favourites.

It’s also a subject that is very personal to me, and writing stories with transgender characters is something that I feel is incredibly important. In this story, the fact that Cohen is transgender isn’t just a medical condition from his past (although I think stories that have trans characters without revolving around that fact are important too.) He’s in the midst of the turbulence of transition, dealing with issues of self and self-image, and wrestling with dysphoria. I wanted to get up close and personal with Cohen’s dysphoria, and much of it is lifted directly from my experiences. It’s a story about a turning point, and writing it mirrored and became a turning point in my own life as well.

So the trepidation I’m feeling is because I suspect very strongly that it’s not going to sell well. I shouldn’t care so much, I know. I should be happy if it reaches a few readers who really love it. And it really isn’t about money (although money would be nice, haha.) My last book, Ink & Flowers, did phenomenally well. But hey, it was a contemporary romance with conventionally attractive gay cis boys. That’s what sells. Paranormal fantasy with a chubby trans lead? Probably not so much. I know I’m getting ahead of myself here, and it might end up selling very well.  I’m mostly trying to prepare myself for disappointment. But I’ve read plenty of testimonials from authors who want to write more trans characters, but unfortunately they rely on writing for their income, and trans stories, they say, just don’t sell.

I want to become a successful author with a wide reach. But I don’t want to have to sacrifice writing stories that mean something to me. (Not that I&F didn’t mean something to me, because it did, but so does Nightmares.) So what do I do?  And I know I’m not the first author to lament this. But I do want to be able to retire from my day job eventually. And I don’t want to stop writing trans characters either. The only solution I can think of is just to keep writing really, really good trans stories, and hope they catch on!

Anyway, after all that, I don’t want to be a huge douchewaffle and start pressuring you to buy my book. Instead I think I’ll link to a few romance books about trans characters by authors who I would love to see more trans stories from. If you would too, consider supporting these books!

A Matter of Disagreement by E.E. Ottoman
Breaking Free by Cat Grant
Wallflower by Heidi Belleau
Static by L.A. Witt

If you know of more, please feel free to link in the comments! And of course, you can pre-order To Summon Nightmares here.

And this blog post is now over the recommended length of 500 words, and doesn’t contain anything close to the optimal quota of cat pictures. So I’ll leave you with a photo of my cat and no more words, and that’ll have to do! Cheers!

Girls go crazy 'bout a sharp dressed cat.

On Love and Bad Parents

I write a lot of dysfunctional families. It’s something I like to explore, because it’s something close to me, and because I find the ways in which parents spectacularly fail to understand and empathize with their children fascinating.

Here’s the thing. The overwhelming parental l love that most people feel upon having a child is one of the most powerful things in the word, but it’s also, unfortunately, quite shallow.  This might seem cynical (and I won’t be surprised if I get some comments to the effect of “you don’t understand because you’re not a parent!!”), but compared to the love between romantic partners and friends, which is based on mutual respect, understanding, and shared values, parental love doesn’t require anything except, well, having a child.

There’s a quote from a video by Joji Grey that’s always stuck with me:

If someone says that they love you, but they refuse to accept you for who you are, then they don’t really love you. They love the idea of you.

And I think this is all too common, especially in cases of queer children. Parents will refuse to believe that their child is actually gay, or grieve the loss of their transgender child, even when said child is right there in front of them. And it’s not a nice feeling, being the queer child of a grieving parent and realizing that they are rejecting you in favour of a person who doesn’t even exist.

I also don’t imagine it’s a nice thing to think, as a parent, that you don’t love your child for who they are so much as just because they are your child. And I’m not saying that this love can’t be used as the base from which to grow a strong, respectful, healthy relationship, just that a lot of the time it isn’t. Parents assume that the unconditional love they feel for their child is a solid alternative to an actual relationship. Or worse, they assume that their child must be a certain way, or they wouldn’t love them so much. 

Anyway, I wanted to challenge the idea that parental love (especially a mother’s love for her child) is intrinsically a a pure, good thing. It’s portrayed that way a lot, but it doesn’t really fit with what I’ve been talking about. As I said before, love is powerful yes, but it isn’t necessarily good. In To Summon Nightmares, one of the villains, Kathleen, is compelled to carry out increasingly horrible tasks so that her sick daughter will continue to receive treatment. She knows that what she’s doing is wrong, and she hates doing it, but she feels that she can’t help herself. That she loves her daughter too much to let her die. 

Obviously that’s a bit more extreme than a parent refusing to accept their child’s homosexuality, but the point I’m getting at here is that just because someone does something “out of love” or for what they believe will be the benefit of their child, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a morally good action. It’s no good to make sacrifices, or to do anything really, on another person’s behalf before first acquiring that person’s consent. And loving someone doesn’t automatically equal knowing what’s best for them.

I think these things are really important thing to remember, both for parents, and for children, many of who feel like they are obligated to accept their parents love, no matter how toxic that love might be.


Rusted Antique Door Knob

Three years ago, Cohen Brandwein was “Ireland’s Favorite Daughter”, a popular teenage author and internet celebrity. But ever since he came out publicly as trans, the media’s treatment of him has been less than golden, and these days, Cohen is desperate for escape.

When he inherits an old house in the country, Cohen sees it as a perfect opportunity to escape the press and work on his new book. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in a small town murder mystery and falling for the primary suspect, a man whose reality makes Cohen’s fantasy books seem like child’s play…

Available November 5th from Less Than Three Press
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