Joyful Things Because Joy is Resistance (& Boy Have I Got Joyful NEWS)

I have several half finished blogs from post-election written where I tried to gather my thoughts on Everything. But you know what? Other people have already talked about that, and have done so very eloquently. I don’t have much else to add that hasn’t already been said better by someone else (at least nothing that doesn’t need to be said in the form of a novel), and, like I’ve said before, I’m tired of talking about sexual assault (but I’ll keep writing about it in novels because that’s what storytelling is for). I’m thoroughly exhausted and frankly rather triggered by anything to do with he who shall not be named because it actually makes me sick to my stomach to even type his name. The world will not end if I don’t put in my two cents, like it won’t end if I don’t stew in my anxiety, disgust, and fear for the next four years. The best way forward (the way they really, really don’t want you to move forward) is in joy.

Now, if you’d like to join me in this, I should warn you: there can be a degree of giddiness to this method. It’s not a turn-the-other-cheek kind of joy, but a dig-your-heels-in-and-bathe-in-spite kind of joy. But it’s been years since gave up the idea that one must constantly suffer at the plight of the world in order to be a moral human being. Yes, I’m aware of the shit happening. I’m doing my best not to contribute to it, and I’m doing what I can to change things (which isn’t going to look the same for everyone, by the way).

Which brings me to joy number one:

Not to sound weird, but I am in a position to have a positive influence on the world. Maybe not a huge part of it, but there are a lot of folks out there who read YA. The first time this trauma happened, in 2016, I was an unpublished grad student barely making ends meet, battling lifelong depression, with no power to do anything that could affect the world but click ‘send’ on a tweet (and not once did any of my impassioned tweets go viral, and even if they did, what change would that really have created?). Maybe that’s why the gut-punch from the results of the 2024 election didn’t send me spiraling this time. Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s because I’ve been managing consistently high levels of outrage and deep betrayal since October of 2023, so this was nothing new. But they say trauma happens when you’re powerless in a frightening situation—well, this time I have a modicum of power. I already know The Wilderness of Girls has touched over a thousand lives (going by Goodreads ratings). How many more might be influenced by my writing to stand up for themselves and break free of the cages society puts us in? What an absolute honor it is to know I am in a position to do even some good. And if you doubt the power of books: why do you think conservatives fighting so hard to implement book bans?

Speaking of having a wider audience to influence with my writing: AS I was writing this blog post (talk about lucky girl energy) I received the news that The Wilderness of Girls is a FINALIST for the YALSA William C. Morris Debut Award!

The Morris Award is given to YA authors who have not previously published with a traditional publisher, so you only get one shot at it: your debut. I am deeply, profoundly honored to be in the running alongside such talented fellow debuts. I’ve said it before, but Wilderness is not the book of my heart, it is the book of my guts. It took everything I had to write this book: crises, healing, therapy, an MFA, the crumbling of my worldview, the reconstruction of my own identity. And when reviews started to roll in for Wilderness, I started to see a theme: people said it was emotionally devastating, but that it also gave them hope; they said it tore them apart, but lovingly sewed them back together; they said my book healed something in them. That was when I knew (standing in a mall reading a review my partner had texted to me) that I’d done what I had set out to do. I’d achieved my goal. People understood this book. Now, to know that this book, which holds such a huge piece of my soul and my own healing journey, has been chosen by librarians (superheroes of literacy and references and public services and STORIES) as worthy of recognition…well. I don’t even know. I can’t say it’s beyond my wildest dreams because I can dream pretty big. But it feels a lot like glowing. I wonder if this is what it’s like to be a firefly.

Still, The Wilderness of Girls would not be anywhere near as excellent as it is without the incredible skills of my agent Danielle Burby, my editor Tiff Liao, and her editorial assitant TJ Ohler. Each one of them helped me sharpen my vision for this book and bring it all to life in the final version. (See the “Acknowledgements” page of Wilderness for more gushing praise!) I genuinely could not have done this without you. (Ok maybe I could have done something similar, but not nearly as good.)

Another joy: I recently received official medical diagnoses for autism spectrum disorder and severe ADHD inattentive type. I have suspected that I am autistic for a handful of years now, and still suspect that the lack of diagnosis + a lifetime of masking and shaming myself have profoundly contributed to my chronic illness. I firmly believe self-diagnosis is valid when it comes to ASD (studies have shown something like 99% of adults who think they might be autistic turn out to be correct, and most neurotypicals simply do not wonder about being autistic) but as in most things when you’re a recovering perfectionist, “that’s valid for everyone else but me.” I decided to get a diagnosis because I knew that without it I would continue to doubt whether or not I was really autistic, and thus keep treating myself like I am neurotypical and keep pushing myself past my limitations and continue the cycle of burnout. Now I feel like I have a much greater understanding about how much more energy I use to exist in the world, as well as permission to respect my limitations and enforce boundaries to protect myself.

Admittedly, I was surprised by the ADHD diagnosis, but only because I had a poor understanding of what ADHD was and what it could look like. My (wonderful, spectacular, amazing) partner has lived with me for the last 5 years and he has pretty severe combined type ADHD, so I thought I knew what it looked like. I was super wrong! ADHD, much like ASD, can look very very different in girls (and therefore women as well). And of course, now that I know what it can look like, it seems obvious (I should have just sent the assessors a screenshot of all the partially finished blog post drafts I have on here). And in fact, I think undiagnosed ADHD might have been an even bigger contributor to my poor mental health over the years than the undiagnosed ASD. I’ve struggled with executive dysfunction my whole life, but I’ve always just assumed I was lazy, irresponsible, careless, messy, immature…you can imagine the way I talked to myself when things were hard over the years. What a relief to find out I’m not any of those things (generally speaking). I am very excited to move forward with therapy and my own personal growth with this new information in mind. And of course, I’m hella excited to try medication! (Get out of here if you’re anti-meds, we don’t need that negativity.) I have admittedly tried a friend’s ADHD medication before and those were some of the most productive hours of my life. Imagine if I could be that focused on the regular!

Since the diagnoses I’ve had a few moments of “well fuck, how might my life have been different if I’d been diagnosed as a kid?” But let’s be totally real here: the resources for people like me didn’t exist back then. The understanding of what autism and ADHD could look like in girls (especially “gifted” girls, which is an identity I find harder to accept than ASD or ADHD) was not there, and even if it was I still probably would not have received much support because I was a very smart kid who got excellent grades, turned my work in on time, and was “a pleasure to have in class”. So I could dwell on a fictional could-have-been (that never really could have been) and wonder what life might have been like without panic attacks and long stretches of major depression…or I can feel deep, cathartic compassion for my past self and all that I went through, which has made me who I am today.

And…shit. Look at what I have accomplished even with my executive functioning chasing squirrels while I’m trying to work: a BA, an MFA, over 15 finished manuscripts (one of them even published by a REAL publisher and set to publish in at least SEVEN foreign countries, AND just nominated for a big deal award!), an LLC, and not for nothing but I also basically turned my day job from a bleh customer service/order fulfillment position into VP of a company I more than tripled sales for ALL BY MYSELF with ZERO business education, all while fighting for my mental health and dealing with a mysterious chronic illnesses (and going to grad school). And that’s to say nothing of being a VERY good daughter, sister, friend, and partner. I mean, holy crap, what am I going to accomplish when my executive functioning is FUNCTIONING? (I feel like a living embodiment of the “Once I get my shit together it’s over for you bitches” meme.)

The FINAL Joy (for today anyway): I am about to become a full time writer. Don’t ask me how because the whole story is long and complicated, suffice it to say I am a Taurus so I am diligent with savings and I make (mostly) smart financial decisions, not least of which has been the decision to stay in an area with one of the lowest costs of living in the USA specifically for this purpose (publishing doesn’t give a damn about where you live). This is a dream I have had since I was a wee child, to make my living fully from being an author. That will include writing and selling books, but I’m also hoping to offer workshops, themed retreats, school visits…all the usual stuff full time authors do to cobble together a living, and maybe some unusual stuff too. I still have a few more weeks of wrapping up odds and ends at the day job, but I plan on taking the time to really relax during the holidays (and Mars retrograde 😰) so I can come back to “work” fully recharged and ready to create my dream work-life balance. And hopefully get those ADHD meds, too! 😀

Anyway. There are things to be joyful about if you look around! And if you can’t find it, it’s a really good time to make joy in any way you can. Because in the face of so much (so much) greed and hate, joy despite everything is the ultimate form of resistance.