OK, this turned out...unexpected. It's what I get for writing first thing. I should not, probably. But yes, I really had this conversation with somebody, back when

She misses the authority of standing, though she’s never had it. No subtle physical cue to say “Ok, we’re done,” no drawing up to “her full height”. She isn’t sure, even, what impression that would make. Could she ever be imposing? Sometimes her women friends that can walk are no help at all. “Erika gets the perfect view of most men.” they say. I am at eye level with most men’s crotches, and at parades my view is mostly asses. It takes a...special view to attract my attention in such instances.One tells me about a client she worked with who never went to a party without her ruler in her wheelchair, that she called her “peter meter.” The girls think this is a great hoot. I think it’s sad. Because if they aren’t going to want you to touch it, what are the stats for? For when you make your collage? Since I tend to put the “cerebral” in “cerebral palsy” my argument stalls after “It could be a pecker checker, too, I guess.” I don’t have the words for that.

“Ooh,” one says. “You can bring your claw and fake having a muscle spasm and ‘sample the merchandise’ But I’m sampling nothing playing cyborg grab ass with a stranger. I couldn’t even feel if the flesh was firm, my reaching claw being a rather longer version of those toys that you win the stuffed animal from. My hand, with all the warmth and sensitivity? Would be way at the other end, making the pinchers work Some metal and plastic and magnets would be getting a feel, ooh, how erotic? Do they think I don’t know the difference? Or is it just that I could get away with it. Because, probably, a time or two? I could, if I never looked the man in the face. But I like their faces, too, and it’s not like talking to them is not awkward enough without the props or without worrying about whether he knows me or some antic as the Wheeled Groper.

Oh Erika, that's amazing. I think that could be developed into a heck of an essay if you wanted to.

She misses the authority of standing

You know, don't you, that this is quite possibly one of the most perfect phrases ever written down? That is precisely it. After two wheelchair stints in my life, I can vouch for it.

God DAMN, erika.

That's awesome and distressing, Erika. You have the most amazing gift with words.

Really? But English is lousy with it. People "stand for" stuff, don't they? Put their feet down? Stand up for their rights? Um... And I've never been in an interview of any kind where the subject, or in the case of jobs, the interviewer, didn't say "We're finished." by standing. And I have no equivalent gesture, unless I push away, which looks tantrummy. And I guess I've been thinking of that since I met Paul AKA CG because when we first met, being a liberal, he didn't want to say "walk" or "stand" to me ever.(My God, that's almost a year already. Tempus fugit, yo) I had to say "Look, we both know I can't. It's okay to say so.")ETA: And in case you're wondering, no, never grabbed ass with the reacher. The language is able-ist but I don't think using it is. I laughed at him pretty hard for it, fondly, but like a bunch of lefties saying "Nicaragua". You can try too hard.

That's some great writing there, erika.

The bit I wrote that made me cry last night? Is getting cut. But I'm going to try to keep the emotion behind it. It's just that the specific dialogue feels a bit too clunky and obvious, even for a scene where I'm deliberately flirting with the over-the-top.

This is going to be a tough scene to polish, anyway. All I did last night was rough out the dialogue--basically, it's two people having an argument in front of four other people, with one of the onlookers as POV character. Oh, and one of the arguers is on horseback, and one of the non-POV onlookers is in labor. And it's entirely possible I'm abusing Juana's contractions as a plot device for whenever I'm stuck. It's a scene that would stage beautifully, but writing it gracefully while keeping decent enough track of all six people and giving even the least important one enough to do that no one forgets she's there--HARD.

I'm trying to figure out how to say this. You have a very unique perspective on things, Erika. When you write, you come from an almost completely different place than I would. Because you do see the world entirely differently. You see the crotches. And every time you write something, I get two opposing reactions. The first is, "This is about being a wheelchair. There is no way I'll be able to appreciate or understand this. It is so foreign to me that it cannot possibly reach me." The second is, "Oh my God. I feel this. I see it. This is as close to truly understanding this as I can get without actually being in a wheelchair."

You really do have a gift.

So,(near) death is my gift? :) Just kidding.(But I really almost died twice. that and the hair are about all I share with Buffy, except for a destiny I never really wanted.) I really thought it embarrassing, y'all. Truly. But it nagged at me. So thanks. And cheer up Spectral Bovine, I'm sure I've seen a few less penises than you.

She misses the authority of standing, though she’s never had it. No subtle physical cue to say “Ok, we’re done,” no drawing up to “her full height”. She isn’t sure, even, what impression that would make. Could she ever be imposing?

This is wonderful, Erika. I know it's not the same thing, but you're imposing in almost everything you write.

Aw, shucks. You're gonna give me an ego, now. Ain't no thing. Still not half bad for somebody who started life getting dinged for "attention-seeking behavior" and had her story writing referred to as "self-stim" Normal people have hobbies. Crips "self-stim". Yes, it's short for self-stimulate and no, despite the masturbatory implications, they probably don't mean porn.