Letter From The Author
“Well, that was to be expected.” Is there any phrase in the English language that is more disheartening? There is a reason why disappointment is such a powerful deterrent. Anger — and even sadness — gives energy to work off of. Disappointment, though, is powerful enough to destroy that energy.
For creative ventures, then, which are inherently energy-consuming, there can be no worse reaction on the part of the audience than disappointment. Worse than no reaction, disappointment means that there were expectations and there was excitement… just that you failed to deliver.
Creators are acutely aware of the threat of disappointment. I don’t claim to be unique. But I do think there is a special type of disappointment when you fail to be the representation that people are so hungry for.
Autistic people are hungry for representation. I know I am. I know that’s why I’m writing this story. But, whether I fail or not, I know that Autistic people will continue to be hungry for representation. I believe that Autistic representation benefits both Autistic and allistic (meaning not Autistic) people, but it is the latter group that needs convincing. And it is the latter group that has both the numbers advantage and the power.
I am Autistic. It is part of my identity. But I know that this identity, which is something I cannot change, disables me. But I am not disabled by my autism. I am disabled by my world’s lack of accommodation for my autism.
I hope, in reading this book, dear reader, a lot of it looks familiar. Expected, even. Two brothers on a trip. There and back again. A boy who can’t wait to grow up; a young man who wants adulthood to slow down. The quest.
Yes, this story should look familiar. I suppose the difference is who is going on this journey.
Autistic characters aren’t often allowed to go on a journey. They are allowed to be solitary geniuses. They are allowed to hold pearls of wisdom for a neurotypical character’s journey. That is “first wave Autistic representation” — to borrow more language from feminist critique.
I hope that All Ways will help usher in a second wave of Autistic representation, where Autistic characters are allowed to be what most people are: neither geniuses nor dependent on others, where Autistic characters can be — dare I say it — typical.
As we know from media studies, what characters are allowed to do can dictate what people are allowed to do.
Here is my central struggle: If someone who is not Autistic messes up a story about autism, well, that was to be expected. This is not to say that people outside of a certain marginalized identity cannot have the best intentions or even that they do not have the skill to tackle issues outside of their lived experience. (Here is the secret to creation: Even when we are not building off of our own lived experience, we are drawing upon someone’s.) It is undeniable, though, that the expectations are different. Disappointment is draining, yes, but at least in messing up representation for something you were never hungry for, you are not disappointing yourself.
So, hello, Past Kelly, this one goes out to you.
Because you are not a tragedy. You are not the solitary genius. You are not the accessory to a neurotypical character’s “lesson.” You have energy: angry energy, sad energy, and, yes, funny energy. You are Autistic. You are typical. The two are not mutually exclusive.
I can be reached on these social media platforms. Kelly Coons on Facebook, Kelly Coons on LinkedIn, and @kellycoonswritesabout____ on Instagram.
If you are interested in All Ways, you can buy it on Amazon here! The eBook is currently on sale for $0.99!
