Bad words

 

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Stolen from here; I don’t know if they’re the original creators but it’s a good image, don’t you think?

I want my little girl to have the best possible world and the widest opportunities. I want her to receive the same pay as any equivalent man in whatever field she moves into and to be able to choose the sexual (or asexual) partner of her choosing. I want this for everyone because I think it’s right. Pink is (not actually) banned in our house until she can make her own fashion blunders.

And yet I call her ‘sweetheart’. I call her ‘honey’. I tell her she’s pretty and cute and… and all the things that I wouldn’t say to a boy. These words slip out and they feel natural and I worry, I worry, I worry that I’m perpetuating gender stereotypes that are at best outdated and at worst harmful. That I’m damaging my own child in my ham-fisted attempts at love.

Words have power. Words create and corrupt. They’re also insidious little buggers and can ruin even the best-laid plans, displace the best of intentions and undermine the sweetest plans.

Through these subtle ways we define the world. By these choices we shall be known, and held up to society’s mirror. And yes, these things change. All we can do is the best we can by today’s standards. And yes, we can reject society’s values but then we will be judged.

Writers are especially vulnerable because words are how we communicate. Anyone can slip up and say the wrong thing, but writers choose. We think about what we say and how we say it. So writing a book with minimal female characterisation is a choice. We can’t claim that it was an accident: the best we can do is justify our decisions.

These choices aren’t always so clear. Do we include non-Caucasian characters in our mediaeval epics? Is realism an impenetrable barrier? A book without swearing is unrealistic, and yet we have apps that remove all swearing from our novels.

Arguments begin on the boundaries – and arguments, generally speaking, are good. They make us think, expose our unconscious biases.

That doesn’t stop me worrying. Because everything is political. I believe in conversation, not censorship, but that doesn’t stop me worrying about the subtle ways I’m influencing my daughter in her most formative years.

 

A balancing act

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I can’t find an attribution for this picture, culled randomly from the internet. I suspect Photoshop may be involved somewhere

There is a problem. The problem’s name is work. And me having some.

All I want to do is to write. It doesn’t have to be fresh creation – I even enjoy a spot of editing every now and again. But writing don’t pay the bills, so I have Paid Employment. And now, in a vague attempt to find something more sustainable in a barren future time, I’ve got myself a second job. I have my first piece of professional proofreading.

This is a good thing. I’m shortly going to be taking parental leave and will be bringing in less money. I need to keep the Lyrapillar in nappies (whores will, after all, have their trinkets). I chose proofreading as a revenue stream as it’s probably the only thing I’m qualified to do, and that’s using the word ‘qualified’ somewhat loosely. It’s something I can do from home and can fit around the rest of my life.

The rest of my life aside from real writing, that is. That’s my problem. I’m trying to devise a new novel, but my mind is full of another person’s work. I have set myself the impossible deadline of doing this proofreading in a month – because I never learn – and that leaves no time for self-promotion, for sending out submissions and all the other things that I should be doing in order to develop my career, let alone actually creating new worlds and words.

This is a self-created problem. I don’t expect sympathy. I say this because it’s something all aspiring authors will encounter through the nebulous days of their writing careers. The trick of balancing all aspects of their lives. To be successful you have to write, and write many pieces, be they short stories, poems, or novels. I have given myself a task that I have to complete and that’s to the exclusion of artistry.

Ultimately it will be good for me. Of course it will be good for me. It’ll hopefully help me as a writer as well as bringing me in a little cash. But I chafe: I want to create.

And now I must away. I have proofs to read.