#this is the year I become a well adjusted human young adult with hobbies that don't involve tearing my hair out over sports

[maranello]

haha im still furious about the 2022 season hahaha :)

[johnnyprofane1]

How to Get Diagnosed #ActuallyAutistic in Just 26 Years

First off, this is not a poor-me story.This is a journey to #AutisticJoy story…

I’m a singer/songwriter, pretend Rock Star with a decent following… after at least 5 other careers.

I’m also #ActuallyAutistic. Or my fave hashtag… #AutisticAF.

Two most frequent private-message questions I get?

Not about lyrics, my guitar playing, or even my mohawk…

1. Could I be autistic?

2. Should I get a diagnosis?

Well, here’s my way-long, way-detailed, way genuinely autistic answer…

I was born in 1953. Long before autism or Asperger’s were widely discussed in medicine or popular culture. More or less, just beginning in the 70s.

At least by 1957, at 4, I knew I was “different.” Family and neighbor kids told me so.

A lot.

In kindergarten, a teacher reported I was unusually creative, but “stayed to myself.” After 2nd grade intelligence testing, I was tagged “gifted.”

But my behavior was “odd.” Solitary. Formal in speech, a know-it-all. “Insensitive to context,” liked talking and playing in class. “Inattentive” to lessons.

I had one close friend at a time… In fact, only one I remember in all of primary school. In 4th & 5th grade. Jeff.

Wonder what he’s been up to the last 56 years…

My intelligence: uneven. My reading skills were off the chart, but verbal learning, most of education at the time, was difficult for me. Math tested high, but I was so impulsive on quizzes, I needed remedial classes.

Tests were a silly game to me. It was fun to be the first-one-done. I couldn’t have cared less about grades. I’m a process-, not results-oriented guy.

And most glaring? I was disliked, even hated, by schoolmates, cousins, perhaps even parents.

I was a target for mockery, hate speech, bullying, physical and sexual attack, and later molestation. And universal disappointment: “You’re not living up to your potential.”

A history of dozens of jobs, dozens of relocations, lost years in a cult, lost years in badly matched relationships…

And honestly? A history of causing great pain to others. Inadvertently perhaps, but not always. Then circling back to the couple of decades in what most would label a “cult…”

Something was just not right with this picture.

I first sought diagnosis at 17 following suicide attempt #1 in 1970. The experience was horrific.

I felt badgered by the therapist, “I know you have a secret you want to tell me.” I wanted so badly to please her. But had no idea what I was feeling, much less why.

As still happens under great stress, I temporarily lost language ability. I became mute. Which has several times been interpreted as “resistance,” “guardedness,” or even “passive aggression” by “helping” professionals.

I didn’t try therapy again until my first year in grad school, 1980. The psychiatrist summarily dismissed me without a plan when I didn’t respond to imipramine (an anti-depressant)– possibly I pissed him off. I seem to have a talent for stepping on therapist toes.

But in 1991, I entered the mental health system and essentially never left. Every new psychiatrist, psychologist, therapeutic social worker confidently diagnosed me… with something entirely different.

Between 1991 and 2016, I was diagnosed with adjustment disorder, major depression, type II Bipolarity, rapid cycling bipolarity, malingering, borderline personality disorder, dissociative disorder NOS (including discussion of multiplicity), PTSD….

There have been additional discussions of various anxiety disorders (especially social anxiety), attention deficit, schizophrenia, TIAs, stroke damage…

Pretty sure I’m leaving a few out.

With each new diagnosis, each and every professional confidently told me he or she had nailed it.

This time…

And they could help.

I was medicated accordingly with imipramine, Prozac and all the modern SSRIs, Welbutrin, Effexor, Lithium, depakote, tegretol, gabapentin, klonapin, lorazepam, respirdal, the occasional syringe of haldol, provigil and other narcolepsy drugs, sleep aids, supplements like fish oil, more I’ve forgotten….

And offered suggestions of Abilify, Seroquel, other anti-psychotics, electro-shock (ECT)…

As well as therapies including Jungian, supportive, interpersonal, analytical, psychodynamic, cognitive, task-centered, solution focused, dialectical behavior, cognitive behavioral…

I was myself a counselor from 2001 to 2011. Strange, but true.

Not one of these interventions helped me materially.

Not one.

And I experienced some very concerning side effects: tics, emotional numbness, difficulty thinking, feeling like a stranger in a strange mind. I totally gave up on treatment and medication in 2011. Bouts of suicidality ensued.

A very few friends and one wife threw the term autistic around over the years, but I never followed up. It seemed so unlikely. I was so bright. So articulate. Even somewhat successful… for a few months at a time.

And without conscious awareness, I had become adept at hiding the fact I was actually dysfunctional… perhaps the majority of the time.

Plus, I could pass for “normal” by masking… when not under stress. I learned by junior high to practice my favorite classmates’ neurotypical behavior in the bathroom mirror. Hide stimming, meltdowns, panic attacks, the total autistic burnouts lasting sometimes months, years…

In 2011, the intimacy of the most successful relationship of my life forced me to look inwardly as deeply as I could in order to avoid losing my third wife. (We are still together, deeply in love, but live in separate houses a few hundred feet apart. She needs breaks from my intensity. I find even her company exhausting after a few hours.)

My now-third wife had a family member with “high-functioning” autism, what we used to call Asperger’s (and what we now call, simply, autism). Watching this young boy negotiate his world was like watching myself in a magnifying mirror.

We had so many behaviors in common. Mine were just somewhat better disguised. With my wife’s encouragement in 2012, I began reading articles, books, online forums…

In 2016, when we separated briefly, I finally re-entered therapy. This time, I contacted various experts in adult autism through Indiana University’s Indiana Institute For Disabilities Community (IIDC).

Bingo.

Every symptom…Explained.

Every “flaw” in my character… traced back to this pervasive developmental diagnosis.

I am making progress in a kind of task-oriented counseling. Working on strategies to accommodate characteristics that just ain’t gonna change…

But the key gifts that external, credible diagnosis gave me:

Accepting I really am different, with very different needs from neurotypical folks.

Providing for those needs, as I discovered them. For instance, understanding my “special interests” are not hobbies. They are central to my survival. My job.

Reducing stimulation, sensory & social. Accepting I will have few intimate relationships in my life and becoming cautious about “friendships,” only those few folks who take the long, long journey to know and like me. After a lifetime naively assuming each new stranger was a new friend, my motto became, “Don’t like me? Don’t hang.”

Spending unashamed time… alone. I have a radical need for autonomy, while simultaneous difficulty managing independence when any other human is present. As much as I crave intimacy, I must manage my time with humans. Say less than 5 minutes with a stranger before anxiety or panic sets in, maybe 2 hours with my wife. Which brings me to…

Over the last few years, I’ve not only experienced reduction in anxiety, depression, suicidality, dissociation, night terrors, meltdowns, panic… I’ve come to realize my natural state.

Finding love. My neurotypical wife and I respect, admire, encourage, and desire one another. Pretty much a first for me.

Autistic joy.

Not disease…

Joy.

When I’m creating words or music, walking alone in Nature, watering my garden, cooking, fermenting pickles, making bread, decorating, yard sale-ing, reading, loving my pets, meditating, even shaving…

I’m in the flow.

There is no time. There is no space. No surroundings. No memory. No pain. Just lizard-warming-in-the-sun…

Joy.

Everything that restricts that joy? Gotta go. Good riddance…

So, diagnosis?

Yeah.

That’s my story.

And this time, I’m sticking to it.

[enkisstories]

- A Detroit Become human drabble with Daniel - - The years 2034 - 2037 are pretty universal, 2038 + 2039 specific for my AU -

Christmas 2034

You have lost your New Car smell, but otherwise are in top condition. Broken in, adjusted to the Phillips household’s individual needs and at peak performance. But when you say “household”, what you really mean is “family”, because you do not get to stay within the apartment much. You get taken to places by your humans, shown off to co-workers, friends and of course the extended family. Caroline is so happy and John is so proud of their new PL600 mobile, autonomous household assistant device. You run their household, but even moreso you make them smile.

Christmas 2035

You still remember all the fuss the Phillips couple made over you last year, so this year you make sure to spend much time with little Emma in order to not let her become jealous again. But they seem to have understood that themselves, because there’s a lot less showing off this year and more time for just the four of you. Christmas 2036

Emma grows and… matures, for lack of a better word. Still a child, but more considerate about the world around her as well as people’s feelings. At the age of eight she discovers the joy of giving, not just receiving. The girl has prepared presents for her mom, for her dad and for you: Glittery paintings composed of strass stones to hang at the wall for the adults. But for you, who doesn’t have a room of yourself, Emma made a pendant from colorful, baked-together plastic pearls. You can wear it on a string around your neck.

For the first time in your existence you own something.

Christmas 2037

You are wearing a new android armband, an old shirt of John’s, a vest and a tie. All of this to hide the fact that you are a PL600. Out of the uniform, part of the family, you think. That feels great! Caroline even suggested you should dye your hair brown and curl it up. Okay, gift-giving is nice and good, but this is going too far! John agrees: no hairstyle experiments! But then he tells you to “just don’t let anybody see you”.

This is confusing. After serving dinner you retreat from the living room, as instructed. This has never happened before. It also contradicts the “a real part of the family now”. In Caroline’s hobby room you try a few of her yoga poses to regain your focus, but it doesn’t help much.

Christmas 2038

You are staring at the little Christmas tree in the DPD’s cafeteria. It has been placed here and lovingly decorated by those who care about this holiday. For the first time in your life you don’t. It’s not that you did NOT care, not like a Christmas hater. It’s more that you’ve went numb inside, machine-like. How ironic that only after deviating you have become much more of a household appliance than when you were still a machine. But it is the only solace you have from the toxic mixture of guilt and anger that would otherwise rule you. And then there is the phantom pain. You feel no actual physical pain, but the regularly popping up error notifications of your amateurishly re-attached limbs are not pleasant at all. But you bite the pain/not-pain back while go about your janitorial work. You’ve been granted this second chance at life and although you’re not doing much in the way of actually living, to what little you have left you cling.

At one of the cafeteria tables Lt. Anderson clutches a bottle. The other person present is, much to your surprise, Detective Reed. Turned out him doing “everything” for a promotion also includes putting in real work, like volunteering for the holiday shift. Lately you’ve also come to notice a fear of not being good enough, of getting replaced and left behind in the detective, a notion that you know only too well. Reed himself doesn’t seem to realize it, that lucky, confident, selfish, cute bastard!

“Go home already, Sir!” you tell the lieutenant weakly, for maybe the third or fourth time today. But Anderson doesn’t want to. What he wants is leave this earth altogether. However…

“Can’t go. Can’t leave. Not now. Must live… for Connor.”

Connor. The hero who has subdued the evil android revolution. The revolution that has totally gone over your head. For you this is still about the Phillips family’s betrayal. And Connor’s. The only good deed that blasted thing has ever done was to die and instill the will to live in Lt. Anderson who is, that much you cannot deny even if you wanted to, a good person. You know you’re unfair, but for what it’s worth, fully realizing that Connor won’t return is one of the few instances when you feel actually good.

You’re sitting there, the three of you, each of you lost in your own little world: Anderson is holding fast to his bottle without drinking from it. Reed gazes into a digital textbook as if it was his salvation. And you caress the smashed remains of an ornament made of plastic pearls. If asked about it, you’d tell the truck that ran you over after falling off that roof finished the trinket, too, when in truth you crushed it with your own hands the evening of the betrayal…

Reed nudges you. “Hey, tincan, what do you think we gave you access to the DPD’s network for? Play phone games? - Stream something for us! Something lively!”

Moments later the cafeteria fills with “Jingle Bells”. You hardly listen to the sound you produce, but you see Reed’s face distort strangely, then hear him snort and finally break into laughter:

“That’s… will you LOOK at this, Anderson! This is priceless! Android stereo!”

You wonder what’s so funny about music coming out of your ears without your lips moving… except for the fact that music is coming out of your ears while your lips aren’t moving, of course. Part of you wants to laugh with Reed at the absurdity of the sight. Another part wants to smash his stupid face against the nearest wall. But all you do is sit straight with an unmoved expression. A stationary android stereo indeed.

“Now the ground is white!” the detective merrily blares along with the music. “Go it while you're young!”

And now the lieutenant starts shaking. At first you think he’s done for for real now, but then you realize that the man is laughing.

“And now you’re the external amplifier to our new android stereo, Reed!” Anderson cackles.

“Take the girls tonight!” your speakers go, accompanied by two human singers now. “And sing this sleighing song!”

So you can still make the goddam apes smile. Huh! You hadn’t realized that this feat still meant something to you…

Christmas 2039

You’re manning the reception in your spiffy new uniform when the door opens. In come a certain detective and a truant. Wow, hero, you think. Knowing what dangerous criminal you apprehended, Detroit sure can sleep soundly tonight…

Juggling a fucking novel worth of cops having called in sick today in your head, at first you barely pay attention to what Reed is babbling. But then a few key words manage to jolt you out of the files and back into meatspace:

“…ma, this is police technician Dean. Dean, say “Hello” to Emma Phillips, whose dad ran away with the stunningly good looking family android!”

Wait a moment, you think, Emma WHO, whose WHO did WHAT with WHOM? And what was part about “stunningly good looking”?

“Oh my god”, you sputter, before catching yourself: “I mean: Hi.”

A convoluted explanation follows and then Emma approaches you, arms outstretched, ready to receive a therapeutic hug from a totally unrelated PL600 named “Dean”. But suddenly she backs away from you, no less afraid of you than she was in the night of the betrayal. And THEN, you realize it not without pride, you look no longer into a little girl’s face, but into a mirror. Emma is angry and in her anger she looks uncannily like you. The child of Caroline, no doubt, but also the child of two fathers.

Eventually the two of you find yourself sitting on a bench, under strict surveillance of the cute, antisocial detective. What game exactly Reed is playing here you have no idea.

“I didn’t expect to be afraid again, officer!” Emma complains without looking at you. “I miss Daniel, I really do, I’m not imagining that! But now I think that if he came back, I’d probably run away screaming. Still, what happened wasn’t even his fault. And neither was it father’s. No one’s to blame, or everyone. I… I’m not making sense at all, huh?”

“Maybe to those involved”, you agree, choosing each of your words carefully. You need to remember exactly what Emma has shared with Reed about the incident and not accidently display your full knowledge of the events. Pretend to be nothing more than an amiable plastic police auxiliary..

“Give it time”, you tell the girl. “And don’t say you’re unfair! A wound like yours takes time to heal. You know what? You sitting here and chatting with another PL600 after being hurt by one is already a huge success!”

It’s not a reconciliation. But it is more, much more than you could have hoped for before today.

(Note: The full 2039 scene appeared in my simfic “Fairytale of Detroit”: https://enkisstories.tumblr.com/tagged/emmaparkscene/chrono

Gavin wears a standard police uniform in the screenshots because he, Hank and Connor have temporarily gotten demoted to beat cops in that story. Yes, Connor is still alive, the characters just didn’t know that in 2038.)

[brynwrites]

Ask Compilation.

Topics covered:

Chapter Titles

Nonbinary character shenanigans

These Treacherous Tides, the series

Marketing yourself as an author via blog

Starting back up with writing

Writing children

Writing fighting woman with big hearts

Differentiating casts who feel similar

Writing in your native language vs English

And a few notes from my lovely followers.

All other questions should be listed on the ask queue page. (Except the last two WIP related questions I haven’t gotten around to answering…)

Chapter Titles

@aithlynfreyeaesthetic asked: Hello, I hope you're doing well. Are chapter title absolutely necessary? I've been avoiding chapter titles purely because I'm horrible at titles, but I've just always wondered.

Not at all! The majority of fiction books don’t use chapter titles. They can be fun, especially in certain genres, but they’re in no way necessary. 

Nonbinary character shenanigans 

@thebravetinsoldier asked: Hi! I’m writing a steampunk story were the main character is being hunted because they’ve cheated death and become immortal by changing their “deceased” parts with robotics and magic. I really want this character to be nonbinary, but part of the explanation is that they’ve changed parts of themselves so much that they no longer remember if they were a boy or a girl. Is this a bad thing? Sorry for the bad formulation, English is not my first language.

First up, I want to clarify that there’s nothing inherently wrong with most concepts in which nonbinary people are robots or mythical creatures, but it does paint an uncomfortable picture simply because there are so few nonbinary character in existence who are actually human, creating a implication that nonbinary people are not-quite-human because humans are the ones who have binary genders.

You fix that particular issue with a small adjustment: Let there be fully human/non-magical nonbinary characters in the world, even if they’re just a side characters who only appears in one scene. 

The main problem here though, is the idea that physical appearance determines identity. Rather than presenting the main character as not being able to identify whether they’re a binary gender, it’s far better to present it as them knowing they don’t (and have probably never) felt like a binary gender, and feeling happy with the way their body is androgynous, because they don’t feel the need to present as a specific gender*. 

Let me illustrate it this way: A girl who losses her physical, female body (or is born in a male body) will be no less a girl, even if society tries to tell her that she could or should be a boy. With time, she’ll still decide she is in fact a girl, no matter what her body says. The same is true with nonbinary people. If a person composed of robotics and magic decides they’re nonbinary, then it’s because they’ve always been nonbinary; they might have just taken a while to figure it out, especially if they original had a body their society told them had to assign them a binary identity.

(*this is not a qualification of being nonbinary by the way, though it is a common feeling among many nonbinary people.)

These Treacherous Tides, the series

@kiarazuri asked: You’ve mentioned before that Pearl is set in a mermaid series called These Treacherous Tides (awesome title, btw) and I was wondering how many books you’ve got planned? Also whether or not any of the books will interact with each other or just be set in the same world?

The These Treacherous Tides series is going to be a more or less unconnected series of romance/family-oriented books about different species of merfolk (and humans), though I’m not opposed in any way to cameos, especially of side characters. 

I don’t officially have a second book planned yet, but merpeople are one of my favorite things in existence, and the moment I finished Our Bloody Pearl I knew I wanted to write more books about them. I do have two concepts I want to play with in future books, so I’ll be fleshing them out further and picking a direction for them once I’m finished with We Are, We Are Monsters.

Marketing yourself as an author via blog

Anon asked: hi! i'm getting into the final stretch of writing my first novel (i have a few drafts left to complete and then i'll begin the self-publishing process!) and i was looking into how to market myself. among other things, i've been told to create a separate tumblr blog to post about my writing. obviously, yours is working very well! i was wondering if you would suggest doing this and if you have any tips to get it started/gain a following? thanks! 

I would definitely suggest creating some kind of blog for writing, and in my experience the writeblr community here is very encouraging and one of the most interactive writing communities on the web. The one thing I will mention though, is that every follower you talk to (i.e. are acquaintances or friends with) are worth a hundred followers you don’t know. I owe all my success to having a ton of writeblr friends who have (and continue to) reblog my posts like they’re gold. 

Check out my marketing tag for a ton of posts I’ve written about this! (Make sure you scroll down to the article on building an audience.)

Starting back up with writing

Anon asked: So I've just had exams so I had to stop writing for a while, but now I want to get back into writing my novel but I'm really struggling. I feel like I've forgotten everything ugh. Do you have any advice on how to jump back in?

My key tips:

Start small. Write 50 words. Take a break. Write another 50 words.

Remove distractions. If you’re on tumblr you’re not writing.

Don’t worry if your writing doesn’t sound good! (Follow the link for a full post!)

Writing children

@bloodybutterfly222 asked: Hey! I really love your tips, and I thought maybe you could help me with a problem I've been stumbling in. I have a story that partially revolves around parenting (bonding with a 2-year-old, more specifically) but I realized I don't know how to write children speech/dialogue. Since I've never had much contact with children myself, I'm even more at a lost about how to portray it significantly and yet accurately. Do you happen to have any tips on the matter?

I would love to help you, but I have little current experience in this area too. (Which I’m kicking myself over, because I did nanny through all of college, but I didn’t actually think about the way children speak while I was doing it and so when I write my own child characters they tend to be really stiff and generic.) 

The one piece of advice I will impart is this: Children are a lot smarter and braver and more creative than they’re given credit for, and they really do say the darnedest things. Some of my most memorable experiences with kiddos:

An eight year old asked me where evil and sin came from if god didn’t create it and then had a theological conversation with me that most adults couldn’t match.

He and his younger bother decided the heroes of our story would win by buying the villain a million ketchup covered pancakes.

Same younger bother spent ten minutes jumping on his bed shouting chocolate chips at the top of his lungs because he didn’t want to sleep. 

Also same young brother would tell everyone he was moving across the country for exactly seven years whenever he was angry.

Multiple instances of really polite 4-6 year old kids coming up to me while I worked retail at the Zoo, asking some variation of “Excuse me, miss, but would be okay if I could buy one of those cups, thank you” and then conducting the entire purchase on their own.

Writing fighting woman with big hearts

@tokinokagura asked: Hello Sir, Regarding your answer about strong female characters. In your opinion, where do females who are strong and independent yet have a very very kind side (like a fighting mom or big sis type, or a type who got something to be strong for) and also how do I approach this scenario of a strong independent fighting strong mother/big sis figure? Thanks in advance

There’s no trick to writing this sort of character; you just write them. Show her being both strong and nurturing, independent and compassionate. Explore the way these traits interact and enhance each other. Does she love her own freedom and want to provide others who are oppressed the same independence she’s found? Does she see compassion as something the strong are required to give? Does she believe true heroes are the ones who fight for others? Look deeper into how she became who she is and why she fights for those she fights for, and then carry that throughout the story in every scene, every choice she makes.

Differentiating casts who feel similar

@katekarl asked: Alright, I could use some help with this WIP. I have a heavy cast of female characters, and I need a way to keep them from sounding too similar. Some of them ARE similar, and the differences in worldview/personality/dialogue might be a little too nuanced. What are some ways that I can try and keep them from looking like they were copy-pasted into their different roles?

Bullet points!

Unless your world is heavy on the sexism and holds to very constricting gender norms, it shouldn’t make any difference that they’re all women; they should have just as diverse a range of personalities, hobbies, strengths, etc as if they were a group of any mix of genders, so long as the class and cultural diversity doesn’t change.

If your characters are too similar to differentiate between them, then you probably don’t actually need all of them. Any two characters who consistently make very similar choices should almost always be combined. If two characters are in fact making very different choices despite being similar in personality and background, then it might be time to sit down and figure out where those choices are coming from and adjust one of the characters to make the origin of their choices obvious.

In my opinion, quirkier characters are always more fun than un-quirky characters, and there are a million different crazy and eccentric traits you can give your characters to make them stand out. (I have a post about developing side characters here which has a few more, similar concepts.)

Writing in your native language vs English

Hi, I can speak English on a B2/C1 level but it's not my native language. I want to write a novel but idk what language I should write in. I have a poetry blog in English and I used to write stories in English but I feel like something more serious requires wider vocabulary and better language skills in general. I have nowhere to post/publish it in my native language though, so it would probably end up forgotten if I were to write it in my native language:/ what do you think I should do?

I don’t have any advice other than this: You’ll get better at a language the longer to try to write more complicated things in it. If you want to write something more serious in English someday, the only way you’ll get there is by writing something serious is English now, even if you do a poor job of it at first. 

Kind words

Anon said: I just wanted to say thank you for that fanfic answer and letting us in on what inspired you. I have an original novel in the works basically inspired by Steve and Bucky and wanting them to eventually build a definite relationship. But I didn’t want to write a fanfic, even though I love fanfic. It turned into a space opera thing

You’re very welcome! That sounds like an awesome space opera, and I wish you the best of luck with it! <3

Anon said: Hi I just saw what you said about writing through mental illness and I just had to tell you that it helped me so much! There is so much power in the advice and motivation you put there, thank you. 

I’m glad it could help! I’ve been struggling as a writer (and human) with depression and anxiety for year now, and I’m just happy to share what I’ve learned <3 I’ll admit that some days I don’t... well I almost said I don’t win this battle, but that’s not a mentally healthy way of looking at it. Some days I have to give myself time to recoop. Some days, taking proactive steps towards tomorrow is the best course of action, even if that doesn’t include writing. (And the taking to best course of action is always a successful day, even if you didn’t get to any of the things you wanted to.)

Anyhow, I’m proud of myself for coming this far and I’m proud of you all for growing alongside me!

Anon said: Not an ask, rather a message. Sorry if it's in the wrong place--I'm kinda new. So, yes, I'm a newbie and I found your blog, and I love it! Keep on writing. I'll be looking forward your works. Cheers! 

Thank you my friend! (This is exactly the write place. You’re so sweet to take the time to say this <3)

[sentientsallysims]

100 Demon Baby Challenge for TS2

 Intro

 I wanted to work on a story / challenge that I think I could somehow squeeze in updates during the school year. The Sims 2 runs on my tablet which is handy while I’m away at campus. I thought that the “100 babies challenge” was cool but the rules I was seeing included a lot of language like “she must be totally devoted to her kids and can’t have any help!” which is cool but not really my style. I also wanted to make the challenge a little less grind-y by having the option to switch to other families while still making progress in my main challenge. Finally, I wanted to make the whole thing a little less… clean, a little more NSFW. So I came up with my own twist, which is definitely superior to all other 100 baby challenges because it involves more math. This is the challenge I will be working on for TS2.

 The main “protagonist” (or founder or whatever)

 Meet Lullaby, a demon who squeezed her way out of simhell to satisfy her natural demonic impulses with regular sims. Starting as a teenager, she conned a regular human couple into acting as her adoptive parents and immediately began acting on her primary instinct: repopulating simworld with her demonspawn!

 That said, Lullaby isn’t really evil. Maybe she is a little naughty, but also silly, rebellious and fun-loving. Lullaby doesn’t know what she wants all the time, as reflected by her Romance Aspiration: she wants to have lots of babies, but doesn’t want to have lots of babies!

 Rules:

1.       The main objective is to populate the world with demon children.

a.       The object is not simply to make 100 babies. The object is to populate simworld with demons. Therefore, offspring are worth points not necessarily equal to one per child.

b.       A child is considered a demon if s/he inherits Lullaby’s unusual skin or eye color, and each demon child is considered 1 child.

c.       Regular “human” children (meaning they inherit neither mother’s demon eyes nor her demon skin) are still precious to Lullaby as carriers of her genes, but are not as prized by simdemon culture and are therefore only considered 0.25 children for the purpose of her population effort.

d.       A child that inherits Lullaby’s unusual eyes, AND unusual skin, AND her hair color is considered a “full demon.” Full demons are prized above all else in simdemon culture and are therefore considered 1.25 children.

                                                               i.      If a “full demon” spawn is a female, she is allowed to aid her mother in the population effort as soon as she is a teenager. Up to 5 additional population agents are allowed at any time—once 5 of Lullaby’s daughters are instilled as population agents, an agent must be retired before a new one can take her place. Only female full demon sims are allowed to help.

                                                             ii.      Population agents must have pleasure or romance for aspirations, otherwise they are not well-adjusted demonspawn!

                                                           iii.      Unless stated otherwise, population agents must follow the same rules as Lullaby herself.

                                                            iv.      Population agents’ instincts to breed are not as strong as Lullaby’s and so they may only contribute 10 total babies of any type. Once a population agent has contributed 10 babies, she must be retired and is not allowed to have any more children. A new population agent may take her place.

e.       All children must have unique names, so keep track!

f.        The game is won when the “children points” adds up to 100.

2.       Only male sims may father children with Lullaby.

3.       Each male sim can only father a child with her once.

a.       After fathering a child with Lullaby, he may father a child with one of her daughters. They’re demons, after all, taboo is what they do!

4.       Lullaby cannot get married and, honestly, she doesn’t want to!

5.       I have Inteen with “silent pregnancy” installed, meaning I will not know the minute Lullaby becomes pregnant. All “try for baby” menus are disabled. Lullaby will instead have what’s called “risky woohoo” that has a possibility of getting her pregnant, but is not for sure. The chime is also disabled. Just like real life, she’ll have to keep trying, never knowing for sure!

6.       Children must be moved out of the home upon reaching adult stage for non-University users or young adult stage if University is installed.

7.       Lullaby and her descendants must be the only demons in the game. One cannot add more demons through CAS or any other means.

8.       Because Lullaby and her descendants are the only demons in the game, and they are, well, demons, incest is not frowned upon. Note that the game does not require mods for more distantly related relationships to occur (I think 4 steps away is the limit, will update later). What? I told you this was gonna be NSFW. She’s a demon for crying out loud!

9.       Lullaby is a silly demon and does not work, but can support herself with any of her numerous hobbies.

a.       Her full demon daughters who are population agents are allowed to work, even while acting as population agents, if they move out.

10.   Lullaby will start out on an empty lot. No cheats to get her ahead whatsoever. Edit: Because I started her out as a teenager, she is technically starting in a home with her family. Therefore, I built a home on a family budget from scratch instead of with a single sim. New rule: Lullaby and her “adopted family” will start on an empty lot.

11.   Lullaby is allowed to prolong her life with most methods available, with some caveats:

a.       Turning aging off completely is restricted

b.       Mods that would more than double any life stage are prohibited

12.   “Losing” is possible. If a “losing” condition is met, one must reload the last save or start completely over.

a.       If a child is taken away by social services

b.       If Lullaby’s descendant children die. Child, in this meaning, will include baby and child life stages, either Lullaby’s direct offspring or the offspring of an active population agent.

[lgbt-ya]

Dreadnought and Sovereign - the Nemesis series

Published by Diversion books on 26th July 2017

Genres: superheroes, trans, young adult, fantasy, LGBT

Goodreads | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Book Depository | Barnes & Noble

Blurb: Danny Tozer has a problem: she just inherited the powers of Dreadnought, the world’s greatest superhero.Until Dreadnought fell out of the sky and died right in front of her, Danny was trying to keep people from finding out she’s transgender. But before he expired, Dreadnought passed his mantle to her, and those secondhand superpowers transformed Danny’s body into what she’s always thought it should be. Now there’s no hiding that she’s a girl. 

It should be the happiest time of her life, but Danny’s first weeks finally living in a body that fits her are more difficult and complicated than she could have imagined. Between her father’s dangerous obsession with “curing” her girlhood, her best friend suddenly acting like he’s entitled to date her, and her fellow superheroes arguing over her place in their ranks, Danny feels like she’s in over her head.

She doesn’t have much time to adjust. Dreadnought’s murderer—a cyborg named Utopia—still haunts the streets of New Port City, threatening destruction. If Danny can’t sort through the confusion of coming out, master her powers, and stop Utopia in time, humanity faces extinction.

Interview with the author, April Daniels:

Hi, welcome to LGBT YA! Could you start by introducing us to the world of the Nemesis series?

Hello! I’d be glad to. The Nemesis series (Dreadnought, out in January, and Sovereign, out later this month) mainly takes place in New Port City, a metropolis that is described in a lot of my initial project notes as Not-Seattle. It’s a major American city in Northwest Washington on Puget Sound, but unlike its real-world counterpart it was the dominant population center on the west coast for much of the 20th century, which means it is both larger and more heavily urbanized than any real-world city in the Pacific Northwest. Seattle might exist as a small suburb, but it hasn’t appeared in the books. 

Approximately seventy years prior to the start of the series, a new wave of increasingly powerful super-humans appeared in the world stage. Superheroes and vigilantes are a part of everyday life, albeit one that most people don’t have much experience with.

This is the environment our narrator, teenage trans girl Danielle Tozer finds herself growing up in, and she is something of a superhero fangirl. When Dreadnought, the greatest hero in the world, gets shot out of the sky in front of her and she inherits his powers, Danielle’s body is changed to be what she always wanted it to be, and suddenly there’s no hiding that she’s a girl. On top of that she quickly learns that the world of professional superheroes is far less welcoming than she had hoped. I tried to ride the line between bleak cynicism in the flawed institutional design of the superhero laws and the optimistic sincerity of some of the heroes trying to work within a broken system. 

I wanted to create the feeling of a DC or Marvel style comic book universe with decades of history that shapes the present, but without the impenetrable continuity snarls and obscure back-story that characterize a lot of the output of the Big Two. 

Who is your favourite character in your books? What advice would you give them?

Calamity is an absolute blast to write, but she should learn to duck. How much of Dreadnought is inspired by your own experiences (excluding the magic!)?

A lot of the stuff relating to being trans, especially the description of dysphoria, are taken from my own life. The emotional damage that results from abuse is from my experiences as well, although the format of the abuse I endured was considerably different than the one Danielle confronts in Dreadnought. 

Dreadnought was your first published novel. What was the publication process like for you? 

I went to school to become a writer, enrolling in one of the few undergrad creative writing programs in the country at UC Santa Cruz. I thought I’d be published shortly after graduating, but it took nine years and I was homeless for some of that. Don’t do this to get rich.

When I finally had a manuscript I knew I could sell, I started querying agents. Querytracker.net is where you want to start that process. It’s long and stressful and difficult but eventually an agent said yes and we got to move on to the next stressful wait, but this time I had an agent doing the hard part. That’s when things started to feel a little real.

I was lucky in that we got an offer in our first round of submissions. We landed with Diversion Books, a smaller publisher, and working together my editors and I put the manuscript into publishable shape. 

Then there was a lot more waiting, and nerves and anxiety and then one day I was published and it sort of took me by surprise. At first it was sort of just another data point: okay, milestone passed, on to the next one. About 24 hours later I had a breakdown sob-laugh-cry fit for about an hour.

And that’s the publishing process. 

What are some of your favourite diverse SFF books?

Right now, I’m really into Martha Wells’ work, which often deals with protagonists who clearly have some kind of significant trauma in their pasts. This isn’t a sort of character background that’s marketed as diversity, but in the sense of being literature that helps someone recognize themselves and feel a little more complete, a little better able to face the day, then her work certain falls under the umbrella of diverse SFF books. Books that I really, really needed this year.  

Do you think diversity is a trend in publishing? What would you, as a trans reader, like to see more of in the future of publishing?

I think diversity has been a trend for a while, and we’ve been seeing the limits of that approach for some time now. The common pattern, historically, is that authors who did not have any personal experience with a particular kind of marginalization would read two or three books, decide they were an expert, and then write a book about The Trans Experience or whatever. This would only be annoying if it stopped there, but it can do real harm by perpetuating stereotypes and blocking marginalized authors out of the market. That’s where not thinking too deeply about diversity gets you; nothing actually changes, except the wallpaper.

Things are looking up, though. I don’t expect that this will never happen again, but I do think people are starting to move toward the understanding that if you want to read a book about a trans person, you should read a book by a trans person. The own-voices movement is one I’m a huge fan of. I think that’s probably the right strategy for where we are at the moment.

Obviously this doesn’t mean authors can’t write characters who are unlike themselves; it means authors shouldn’t claim to speak for others. 

Nobody can speak for us as well as we can speak for ourselves, and that’s true no matter who you are, unless you’re in politics. Publishers should to worry less about diversity in books, and more about diversifying the people whose work gets accepted for publication and promoted. The solution will need to start at home, so this will mean diversifying their own staffs as well. 

What advice would you give to authors who are planning to include a trans character in their next works?

It’s not too difficult, I don’t think. Don’t describe their bodies in a way that’s any more detailed or lurid than you would a cisgender body. Give them personality features aside from being trans. Don’t get cute with pronouns, don’t do a “surprising reveal”, and don’t kill them. Pretend we’re people and you can’t go too far wrong.

What are you writing next?

Can’t say, but past experience suggests people will like it. 

Finally, what’s your favourite conspiracy theory?

The best conspiracy theory is the one that NASA killed JFK to keep him from telling Khrushchev about the alien castles on the Moon. The book you want to read is called Dark Mission by Richard Hoagland and it is the most batshit story you will ever hear. 

From the Masonic ritual allegedly conducted shortly after the Eagle landed in the Sea of Tranquillity to the crank-a-licious numerology chapter, this book has it all, and also grainy photographs reputed to be of kilometres-tall crystal structures on the Moon. A perfect blend of kitschy Americana and paranoid hallucinations, this book has my highest recommendation for conspiracy fans of all sorts. 

Thank you for asking.

April Daniels was born in a military hospital just before it was shut down for chronic malpractice—in hindsight, that should have been an omen. After various tribulations in childhood and the frankly disconcerting discovery that she was a girl, she graduated from UC Santa Cruz with a degree in literature, and then promptly lost her job during the 2008 stock crash and recession. After she recovered from homelessness, she completed her first manuscript by scribbling a few sentences at a time between calls while working in the customer support department for a well-known video game console. This book was mainly porn, with a few swordfights included for variety. When April realized she couldn’t pitch her book without blushing, she decided to write something else. During yet another period of unemployment, she wrote Dreadnought.

She has a number of hobbies, most of which are boring and predictable. As nostalgia for the 1990s comes into its full bloom, she has become ever more convinced that she was born two or three years too late and missed all the good stuff the first time around. Having recently become a pagan, April is currently enduring the karmic backlash for all the times she was smug about her atheism.

Early in her writing practice, April set her narrative defaults to “lots of lesbians” and never looked back.

Follow April on tumblr at @msaprildaniels

[by-ethan-fox]

“Why people latch onto representation” A story about the 1990s, videogames, anime & Magic: The Gathering

One of the things I often read, when people complain about LGBTQIA+, persons of colour and such “latching on” to examples of their representation, or campaigning for more representation is the old line of...

“so x is gay, why do you have to make such a big deal of it?”

Thing is, I’m not queer or of colour, so I don’t claim to understand what it feels like to have those aspects of myself under-represented (it would be daft of me to claim I understand this), but I do know how it feels to yearn for representation for something else in the mainstream media.

Back in the 1990s, there were three pillars of my teen years. These were video games, anime & trading card games (namely Magic: The Gathering, as that was all that was available).

These activities were pretty core to the person I sought to be. Naturally the internet was in its infancy back then, and these were pretty niche pursuits. For people in their teen years in 2017, it’s difficult to describe, but...

Video games were seen as a children’s pursuit; shameful for adults and not much better for teenagers. Everything was against them. Movies portrayed them as something for the nerdiest of nerds, television talked about the dangers they posed to the nation’s youth, and educators tried to tell us they were of no creative or intrinsic value, and were cynically made as a way of robbing people of their free time and cash.

Most of all, though, the young nature of the hobby meant that very few in the mainstream media understood it. It was clear that all these opinions were voiced by people who didn’t really know what they were talking about.

I still remember a day when we brought a Playstation into school, and one of our teachers was mesmerised by Metal Gear Solid - he confessed on-the-spot that he didn’t know videogames had moved on much since Pac-Man.

Anime was almost unheard of and highly misunderstood. Half of the people who were aware of “Japanese Cartoons” thought they were all about graphic, depraved sex or at least, content with a sexual theme - the other half thought they were violent, and again, ultimately without “worth”.

Anime was expensive; no internet back then, and TV? No chance that a TV network would show Japanese Cartoons. Anime was only available on VHS, with 2-3 episodes per tape if you were lucky (in reality, Anime was more about movies than series, because people just couldn’t afford a series on VHS).

Still, we struggled, We swapped tapes amongst ourselves, bought magazines, pushed local suppliers to stock more stuff, and gradually things got better - but it took years, and I was pretty much out of my teens by then.

Trading Card Games had taken off, but they were still a very niche pursuit. Whereas my parents were broadly understanding of video games and anime, this was difficult even for them. It took up an inordinate amount of time, which they would’ve preferred I spent on something more “useful”.

Again, educators didn’t like TCGs. As a form of card game, they preached they would breed a desire for casino gambling (which proves, if nothing else, that they were making this criticism knowing nothing about the game - seriously; this is like suggesting that learning to cook promotes mugging because both can involve knives).

Still, we played, bought expansions and blister packs, played, read magazines, played some more... We just got on with it.

So yeah, things kinda sucked. This probably isn’t news to anyone.

You’re probably asking what this has to do with representation; the answer is that we all saw the fulcrum, the point at which things started to change, and that time was exciting.

I still remember the first times we saw adverts for video games on TV, and at the cinema. I remember, very clearly, seeing an extended advert for Final Fantasy VIII; basically most of the intro sequence (which back then was a stunning display of CGI).

You might argue “video games were advertised before 1999″ but it was different. Look at some of the magazine ads from back then and you’ll see what I mean.

This is a perfect example. Advertisers did everything in their power to sex up the content, promoting anything other than the actual games. Adverts were normally massive spreads in magazines with bizarre imagery - anything to avoid making the game screenshots or hardware pictures bigger than a postage-stamp. Videogames are lame, for nerds, for losers! Cool, interesting people need something eye-catching, it would be ridiculous to let the product sell itself! </sarcasm> 

1999 was around the time when videogame adverts started to turn around. Full-colour spreads with massive screenshots. Final Fantasy didn’t need a naked women holding a copy of the game to sell, it just needed the game itself. Suddenly, the media started speaking to us, and we were absolutely thrilled. It seems tragic now, but we were really blown away. We told everyone about it, we asked if others had seen x advert, or saw how y game was actually mentioned on TV last night. We poured over shots in films where a character was actually playing a contemporary game instead of something from 15 years ago, showing that someone who had even a basic knowledge of videogames picked it out. Hell, people even started to realise that (shock) videogames weren’t only played by boys.

Anime started to show up on TV. First, it was late-night showings on science fiction and movie channels. Before you knew it, there were whole evenings of it, and eventually, we even started to see the likes of Yugioh and Pokemon make their way onto kids television in the mornings. Given, these were heavily edited and marketed to a younger demographic, but it didn’t matter; Anime was becoming a thing. Again, we latched onto any example we could find, watching, talking, sometimes even taping. We talked to each other and would-be new fans endlessly, keeping a close watch on what was on, and when. Within a few years it was well understood by the mainstream what anime was, and that there was a huge range of it, including Ghibli and the rest. Suddenly our hobby was validated; the thing we’d struggled so hard to remain fans of was now more popular than ever, which made it easier to talk about and watch.

Trading card games exploded. Pretty soon the detractors shut up or were just drowned out by the popularity. The coming of the internet made it easy to connect to players all over the world.

And you know what? We annoyed people. Doubly so to those people who didn’t want these things to become successful. It didn’t matter, though. With every turn, every advert that validated the quality of our entertainment, every character in a movie who played video games yet seemed a well-adjusted human, every anime that aired on television where new fans could watch it, with every shop that now stocked trading cards that wouldn’t have considered it before, we saw walls break down and the media started to cater to us.

And most importantly, it wasn’t long before we were seeing people like us, who valued our entertainment, among the mainstream media. Years would pass, but before you knew it, you’d hear of Vin Diesel playing World of Warcraft, or Dara O’Briain talking about the new Assassin’s Creed on a chat show.

It was exciting - and we wanted everyone to know it.

This went through several distinct phases, which you may have picked up on.

The youth picked up on these new forms of entertainment. 

The world at large belittled them. 

Then, as they became more popular, people actively railed against them, seeing to both slander them and undermine the people who engaged in them. 

Eventually, those new forms of entertainment became part of mainstream culture and finally became more accepted.

Again, I don’t know what it feels like to yearn for (for example) racial representation in the media - but I do know what it feels like to at first have a desire for representation belittled, and how amazing it feels when it is fulfilled, even for something that to others might seem inconsequential.

So I’d say, to those of you who are struggling for representation in the media, please don’t be put off by those who belittle you. Keep working at the seams, the cracks in the wall, and things will change. If they’ve already stated, then the pace will quicken.

I’m sad to say that for some of you, it will take a long time - perhaps even longer than you have to give, but keep going as long as you can, and I look forward to the day when you hit that fulcrum, and I promise I’ll listen to you when you want to talk endlessly about how things are starting to change - because if this was exciting for us, I can’t imagine how new and exciting it’s going to be for you.

[mycreativename]

april car thoughts

this made sense to me this morning so I told myself I would write it out in the afternoon

today I was reminded of a big part of my life that I had completely forgotten when I saw a three wheeled car driving down the freeway

when I was a kid, me and my sister were homeschooled, and we used to go on a lot of road trips. sometimes for months at a time. and so when it became necessary for me to entertain myself for long periods of time, I developed a weird fascination with cars. not how they worked, not anything to do with driving, just knowing what they all were. every time I saw a logo I didn’t recognize I would ask about it. 9 year old me filled up several sheets of hotel paper with all the car brand icons I could think of off the top of my head at one point on the trip. what kind of 9 year old girl just sits around and draws every car brand logo in America?

a few months later it just stopped being a thing I did. nothing squelched my interest, it had just run its course. by all accounts I was obsessed, but I’ve never counted it among the major obsessions of my life.

the major obsessions were all consuming. they were default noise in my mind, they shaped how I thought of everything, and sometimes they would make me feel absolutely unable to pay any attention to anything else. but the defining factor, I think, is that they were the things I never talked about. I would start out being just self conscious enough to not talk about a developing interest, the interest would have nowhere to go except back into my mind, and later I would become so extraordinarily self conscious about my sheer force of obsessive energy that I would rarely even reveal a passing interest in the thing to friends or family. of course the ones I had as a very young child were apparent to everyone, and on the occasions that I discovered someone who shared my interest I would explode, but in general my outlets were very few and far between.

9 year old me would have been excited to see a three wheeled car. 10 year old me would not have cared, because 9 year old me never reached the point of cutting herself off from talking about cars and letting the obsession fester in an echo chamber.

the feeling that I cannot talk about something has been a driving, defining force in my life, for my entire life, to the point that I forget it’s a problem.

I was first attracted to writing instrumental music because it was an opportunity to write about whatever inspired me incognito. and 99% of the time that’s exactly what I’ve done with it. some people write about nice, artistic things like literature, history, visual art, big concepts, and then there’s me, drawing on an endless supply of things I shouldn’t need catharsis for. other people’s problems. things I should have gotten over sooner. situations I haven’t done enough to understand. there is a long list of people who have played a role in inspiring my music, and they will never know.

so in college I learned how to give good bs answers when people would ask me what my pieces were about. the first few times I was asked I blanked, but I got pretty good at it later. “well, I wanted to write something that combined these musical elements that I totally haven’t associated with a certain situation.” “I feel like this piece has a distinct personality and it definitely isn’t based on a real human’s personality.” “I see this as being like this kind of scene in a movie that has absolutely nothing to do with a scene that ever actually happened.”

and for some reason that was never enough. now, not only had I probably not actually dealt with the problems I was writing about, but now I had written this elaborate piece of code that I also could not talk about. some part of me always wanted people to just figure at least some of it out on their own. piece together some of the Easter eggs I left behind. give me a knowing look, say “oh, of course you wrote it that year and gave it that title!” and then never speak of it again, except in coded language whenever there was an opportunity for me to make an inside joke about it.

but I would never admit to writing about something that I felt was not mine to write about. every time I leave those Easter eggs I feel guilty about it. outwardly, I stay in my lane. but I am very rarely inspired to write about things in my lane. I am even more rarely inspired by things I have dealt with in healthy ways.

people give me weird looks when I say that sometimes I don’t even realize I can open up at all, but it’s true. I have to remind myself to take advantage of my friendships. but lately I have become much better at recognizing when I need to talk about something. I’m learning that leaning on friends for support when things go wrong does wonders for my recovery time, just like how following fandom blogs has prevented my fandom related obsessions from becoming incapacitating.

coincidentally, I also don’t write as much anymore, especially when you compare my adulthood and childhood writing habits. I’m sure that has more to do with adjusting to post grad life, but I still wonder. can I only create something great after a struggle when I’m neglecting other forms of self care?

if I drag myself out of isolation, will I stop being artistic?

was being artistic nothing but the only way I would allow myself to deal with the things I felt like I couldn’t talk about?

I have become dramatically more social than I was as a child, even (especially?) before I was homeschooled. I know this sounds ridiculous, but maybe I’m on a trajectory to just become a functional adult with a normal job and a few casual hobbies.

maybe I’ll write a piece after I finish this post that has nothing to do with anything I said.

[addcrazy-blog]

New Post has been published on Add Crazy

New Post has been published on https://addcrazy.com/digital-heroin-emerging-principal-people/

Digital heroin emerging principal people

AMRITSAR: Not handiest the substance dependency is taking lives of Punjabi adolescents but with the good sized reputation and unabated use of the net, the display addiction has also emerged as a powerful risk for human beings of all age groups the usage of mobile phones, that’s inflicting most important behavioral issues as well as impotency.

“There are over a dozen patients, with the majority of younger girls present process treatment of behavior disorder in our internet deaddiction center,” said dependancy psychiatrist Dr. JPS Bhatia while speak to TOI on Friday. Stating that blessings of social networking were a long way less than its harmful consequences, Bhatia stated it became hiding one’s very own proper identity under the garb of a pleasing activity. He stated that parents approach with sudden fall in grades in their children whilst other halves whinges approximately their husbands neglecting them. among kids, the signs and symptoms of screen addiction consist of unconsciously searching for mobile phone, hand movement closer to telephone, courting troubles with immediately own family contributors and living in a dream-like nation. Giving example, Bhatia said that determine of one in all his sufferers stated that their son spends hours in the lavatory. Vaishali (call modified), the mother of a 15-yr-old girl screen addict, stated, “I used to be concerned to discover predominant adjustments in my daughter’s behavior. She would spend at the least 3 to 4 hours in the rest room and once I clandestinely checked her cell, it turned into complete of porn stuff and more than one hundred male Fb friends that became an alarming name.” Bhatia stated that amongst person males, erectile malfunction changed into the main symptom. “Whilst husband and wife are the use of a cellular smartphone, they sense they may be being disregarded. This vacancy results in marital disharmony,” he said. Notably, a currently launched government statistics had disclosed Amritsar because the top metropolis amongst others for sharing sexual abuse material. In keeping with the information, Amritsar took pinnacle vicinity with more than four.three lakh “documents of hobby” – code for infant porn – shared among July 1, 2016, to January 15, 2017. while Delhi becomes 2d within the slot followed by means of Lucknow. talking approximately the treatment element, he stated on the internet deaddiction center, they supply existence abilities counseling and suggest on inculcating good habits at the same time as the male adults have been made to recognize the importance of real members of the family over the myth global of pornography.

even as agreeing to the dependency due to cell telephones and excessive use of the net, clinical superintendentmannerGuru Nanak Dev medical Clinic Dr. Ram Saroop said that over-dependence on mobile telephones become causing frustration amongst young people and related issues. Bhatia cautioned to increase “position models” at the college degree because the first measure to check the upcoming risk of display screen addiction. “College students observe their teachers and if the academics will hold the mobiles away, they will analyze the identical.”

Getting to know Oneself

You’re my heroine, Beryl. Beryl Markham entered my existence on a book recommendation from my son’s now long departed girlfriend. West With The Night time with the aid of Beryl Markham passed my expectations. Beryl’s adventures, discoveries, rescues and slim escapes made my existence faded in contrast. A huge adventure for me became going all ofmannerso Boston. Discoveries have been more like finding a flood within the basement after a thunderstorm and no knight rescued me from a slim escape or some thing else for that count. however you, Beryl, you did it all. Your e-book is more than a pilot’s memoir, it’s far a bold tale. How did you’ve got the moxie to fly the Atlantic from east to west in 1936? My god girl, they didn’t have GPS and Virtual units returned then! You had been flying by the seat of your pants.

I did not need to be a pilot. I’m terrified of heights. however I, did need an adventure like Beryl’s. journey found me in the form of a required conference in Seattle. Now that might be an journey. No longer your flight path exactly, Beryl, but I might fly west with the Night. 3000 miles. Alone. I was hoping for discoveries too, and maybe a slender break out and a rescue too.

It changed into a protracted flight Beryl, how did you ever do it? I was bloodless, weary and hungry While the jet finally landed. My lightweight wool jacket became no healthy for the pervasive Seattle damp and gloom that oozed into my bones. The cab journey from the airport to the lodge scared me – my first consciousness that I was on foreign turf. The cabbie slightly spoke English, but come what may he were given me to my destination, a venerable antique resort high above the Puget Sound. My room at the twenty fifth floor turned into stuffy and moldy. I attempted to open the window for some clean air. YIKES, Beryl, the window stuck, then popped our pulling me with it. I felt the air rush via me as I bent at the waist, preserving tight to the window latch. Oh my god, oh my god, don’t permit me fall.

Beryl, didn’t heights scare you? From in the back of me an arm reached around my waist. I should sense electricity inside the arm and candy breath at the returned of my neck. My arms have been pried off the window latch. I permit myself be pulled returned to safety, far from the open window. I blinked back tears and turned round, looking forward to to look who? I do not know, but the room was empty, crammed now with fresh air and the scent of my worry after a slender break out. Who rescued me? Beryl, did not you worry about falling from the sky?

Then I took off on a self-guided tour of the Cascade Loop, touted as a combination of inspiring, first rate, and various herbal splendor. at the ground, in a car, secure, nevertheless Alone, however in search of journey. Self-guided tour – what does that mean? I used to be traveling On my own inside the rapid lane as a consultant for three years now. The regulations were simple: Stay to the left and preserve taking walks at the moving walkway; get to the front of the line; speak to the man or woman subsequent to you most effective if it’s going to assist you in commercial enterprise.

My first prevent turned into Stevens Pass Ski Motel. 4,061 ft within the air. In late September the sky became blue, the solar susceptible but shining. A sweeping view of miles and miles of forests that make the White Mountains appear like a unmarried stand of trees. With one unexpected blast of cold air, a heavy snow flurry stuck me taking snap shots of vegetation in a rock lawn. I stood Alone with face to the heavens and arms outstretched, hands up, catching splendid huge moist snowflakes. What peace and beauty – for a second. The silence that incorporates snow become deep. Then I found out my plight. I was the best soul here. I popped the trunk of the apartment car – no snow brush. by way of this time the snow turned into one inch deep and still falling. I checked the grid on the tires, Now not lots grip there. I escaped down the mountain slipping and sliding. I should feel a hand at the wheel correcting my errors with every skid, righting the auto back to the street. one thousand ft down the street, the solar turned into shining and the snowflakes melted off the auto like the rivulets of my sweat. I drove on. Who helped me break out? Beryl, didn’t you worry approximately being so By myself?

The city of Leavenworth become a shocker – a transplanted Bavarian village where it just should not be. simply the facades of the homes had been actual. Open any door and interior and there has been center class The us – traveler wares, plump tourists, and tourist rapid food. I could not wait to get out of this town. This turned into No longer an journey, it was a retreat for the faint of coronary heart.

subsequent prevent on my tour turned into Ohme Gardens, constructed by means of an eccentric circle of relatives who spent each waking, non-working hour turning a dirt hill into a horticultural pleasure. high above the valley below, the Wenatchee and Columbia Rivers met and moved on with out an upward glance. I used to be the primary visitor of the day, likely the simplest traveller of the day. I sat and stared at the grand vista. I dared Now not challenge to the edge of the cliff. there has been no candy breath to hold onto me. The groundskeepers mowed and trimmed around me. I left the excessive floor and went downtown to stroll the sidewalk like a excursion manual as soon as taught me: Put one foot in the front of the opposite. Now do it 1000 instances extra. Beryl, did you marvel on the grand vistas below you?

My subsequent forestall was Lake Chelan. This time New Hampshire won. Lake Chelan changed into a puddle compared to Lake Winnipesauke. I drove right via. there was nothing to hold me or appeal me or scare me right here.

I entered the North Cascades Dual carriageway early the subsequent morning. Oooh this gets uncomfortable, like going again to the age with out Virtual contraptions – no reception on the auto radio; no sign on cellular cellphone. Using by the seat of my pants, I protected excessive peaks, curving roads, transfer backs from side to side, up one side and down the other. Repeat and repeat again, much like taking walks an limitless trail, or flying with not anything to see but Night. At the highest heights, there were scenic overlooks with no safety railings, ideal to drive right off, and nobody might hear a vehicle fall inside the woodland. And the wooded area would swallow you and cover you over. I was Not in any respect tempted, however I, was afraid – of the height, of the danger of falling. there has been no candy breath to make sure the rental automobile was in forward and Now not reverse. I watched the dashboard like a hawk. I held tight. had been you with me Beryl?

Then all at once thunder clouds and pelting rain. I would been in tropical downpours in Florida, however this turned into one of a kind. I used to be within the rain cloud, like a plane flying via it. I drove on and on trying to break out the storm and attain my resort in Concrete. there has been rarely a car in front of me, not often a vehicle in the back of me, rarely a car headed east. I was heading west with the Night time once more, Beryl.

after I in the end reached the city of Concrete, and pulled into the car parking zone of the hotel, I felt silly that I had made a reservation. Who else might Live right here? It turned into a protracted manner from Seattle skyscrapers, only a single row of outdoors hall rooms, the northern face covered with the identical moss that grows at the shady facet of bushes in the mountains. The room categorized Office turned into a mixture living room and lobby. The furniture within the room turned into obliterated by stacks of newspapers and leaning towers of fading Country wide Geographics yellowed and browned with time and. My room changed into rank with the smell of unscrubbed, sweaty human beings. I took off my coat and hung it within the bathe to dry. A whiff stuck me by way of wonder. My coat smelled the same as the room. turned into that the fragrance of worry? This was the remaining ditch resort, the only we all stopped at after surviving the self-guided excursion of life. I flew Alone in my car, with an aviator to look at over me.

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