about my writing process
My writing process? Do I have a writing process lol? In my case, my writing process is very much affected by mental health and disability issues that I live with. I've outlined my thoughts for a likely series, but I have no idea how long it'll actually take me to write all the pieces or how many posts I will manage.
I will try to make sure I post a list of particularly sensitive subjects before each of the posts. I have lived a life full of serious traumas that have most definitely impacted my writing. Those traumas have led me to a diagnosis of PTSD and that will certainly include some trigger warnings. I am also on the autism spectrum and the journey to diagnosis has been a hard one.
I’m not writing this as an invitation for people to question or debate my history. Does that sound hostile? I’m not sorry if that’s how someone takes it- 43 years into a life full of abuse, tragedy, and oppression has left me with quite an attitude.
Note- you may want to sign up for my RSS feed or follow me on Twitter to make sure you don't miss a post.
AAC, Audrey, and me
My dear Audrey started talking at me as I tried to come up with this scene; she suggested that she and I try it, since I'm using AAC in a slightly different way with my Master currently.
When I finished this piece, I debated if I would break it in parts, but there was no natural break so you get a long scene. It makes more sense if you consider part of Audrey's comment in my memory. If you want to know more about AAC beside seeing it used in this post, I recommend you read my first #TherapeuticThursday post here.
Audrey's voice traveled through my memory: Just because you've never been formally diagnosed with anything warranting AAC, never fitted by a professional doesn't mean it won't make our lovemaking that much better. Yes, using AAC can take longer than speech; that'll just be time to make our lovemaking be a longer time together.
I placed the last word on the board, pressing it down well at the corners to make sure it stuck. Grinning, I studied the words and pictures I'd chosen for this board. Audrey, me, me, Audrey, both of us.
“Such gorgeous pecs,” she murmured as her index finger traced over the picture of my chest in my white sports binder.
I tapped on the nipple of her breast pictured.
“So let's take your board to my bedroom.” She grabbed my empty hand and urged me to my feet. “You need a dry erase marker like with your shopping board?”
“Nah,” I murmured. I continued to hold her lovingly moisturized hand as we journeyed down the hallway.
“You gonna let me enjoy learning this board on you first some? We gonna use the ASL YES/NO eyebrows?”
I giggled and nodded. “Both!”
She snatched my board from me before tugging on my sundress and making her eyebrows go upward. Keeping her expression the same for a long moment, she lifted her shoulders to add to her question.
“Di di di di di. You wanna undress me?” I spun a circle.
With a quick movement, she caught the bottom hem of my dress when it spun out. Before I could find my balance, she had the light fabric off me and I fell to my butt on the floor.
“Love you!” I surged forward to kiss the tops of her pretty feet.
“Oh, you! Love you, darling.” Both her hands grabbing mine, she helped me to my feet and pulled me into a tight hug.
I hummed against her, relaxing in the touch and the smell of her. Light, light vanilla. Some nutmeg, like she was making cookies. Oh, almost too cold. I pulled her onto her bed with me.
“Hmhm. Still gonna lay back for me?”
I nodded and scurried backward to place my head on her fluffy white pillow.
“I like that you didn't shave before our time together.” She tapped her short purple nail on “Hair” on the board.
I touched “Go.” I held my breath until she touched the shaved part of my head; I hadn't thought to specify hair-where. Relaxing into her touch, I let my hands slip off my hips and onto the bed.
“That's good. I agree with Shaman. This style is quite fetching on you. I enjoy the dichotomy of shaved and long curls.”
A smile spread across my lips. Passive voice, passive voice! My fingertips tingled as if she said I could stroke her short layer of recently shaved cotton swirls. Twist out! So beautiful.
“Yes, lovely pecs.” She pressed her fingertip against the pecs side; after I nodded, she took both hands and pressed them against my pecs, the skin of her palms just touching above the edge of the sports bra binder. “Binder stays on today?”
I lifted my right hand to sign YES.
“I do love how YES looks like a nodding hand.” She touched “Lower” and raised her eyebrows, their delicate, rich black curves drawing me into her gaze.
Shuddering against the bed, I forced my lips apart even as I pointed to “Go.”
“Good girl,” she purred as she started to draw random shapes across my belly. “I like the idea of you holding up the board 'cause where I hope to be going, I'll need your help to see.”
With a high pitched whimper, my mind caught her teasing hint. I tapped away at “Lower” before grabbing the board and holding it up awkwardly on the bed.
She aimed one finger at “Vulva” with her lips pressing against my lower belly just above where my pubic hair started.
Both my hands tried to move in YES, even the one holding my AAC board up.
“I can't tell if you're signing YES or CAN.”
I gasped; she'd learned some more ASL. I stilled my left arm and signed YES again before tapping away on “Lower, Vulva, Lower.”
“Would it be cruel of me to ask you to speak some of these words?” She smirked.
I let my lips tremble as I strained to make my eyes wide open while blinking my eyelashes at her. I nodded slowly.
“Don't pull that innocent act on me.” She chuckled. “I know you are far from innocent, dearie.”
Snorting, I wrinkled my nose.
“Are you gonna use your words to tell me you don't like dearie? Or maybe point to stop?”
“Don't like use my words,” I snarled and jabbed my finger against “Stop.”
She brushed her finger over “Lips” and “Go” before lifting her eyebrows.
“Yes,” I shrieked.
Tracing the tip of her tongue over my labia majora, she repeated the gesture four times, up and down, before prying them apart to do the same to my labia minora. “Ba ba ba!”
She lifted her mouth from my body and stretched to touch “Bound Clitorophallus” on my board.
I pounded my finger against “Go.” I melted into a long groan as she sucked my clit between her lips. As my breathing slowed again, I poked at “Fingers” and then “Cunt.”
Her eyes pulled up at the corners to show her smile. She shifted until her right hand rested underneath her. Her thumb circled around the opening to my cunt.
Whining, I tapped against “Go” repeatedly. I released a gasp when one of her fingers slid into my wetness, pressing against the inner wall of my vagina. My fingers tightened on my AAC board as I struggled to keep it upright in the midst of my pleasure. “La la la la.”
She hummed against me, the buzz working its magic on my unbound clitorophallus. She moved her hips and her bound clitorophallus pressed against my leg.
“Ta ta ta ta.”
Lifting her mouth from my body, she asked, “Touch? You want my bound clitorophallus to keep touching you?”
I shook my hand “YES!” My toes curled down into the rich brown comforter.
“I wonder if I can find your g-spot now that you're so very turned on. Should I try to encourage a g-spot orgasm for my sweet girl?”
My finger randomly moved over “Go,” “Harder,” “Lower.”
Laughing, her mouth reclaimed my clit as her fingers moved within my cunt's top wall, searching for that elusive g-spot. Her gaze remained on my face. Her pupils dilated when she found it.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I held my hips tight so I wouldn't buck and move her finger off that glorious pleasure spot. Love that I indeed have a g-spot that my loves can find. Verb tense change! My ability to hold my hips still broke and I pushed down on her fingers until an orgasm roared through my body and out of my mouth. So much, too much. I tapped on “Slow.”
“That's my girl.” She kissed my bound clitorophallus. “I just wanna cuddle and hopefully soon we'll explore more words on your board.”
Words need added. “Love you.” My eyelids wavered closed.
Her lips brushed across my cheek. She drew on the bony part of my chest with her fingertip, “I love you.”
AAC & Romance
I just don't write “easy romance.”
It seems fitting that I should start this hashtag in my therapist's waiting room. I decluttered one book shelf in the living room yesterday; my Master dropped an oil change appointment on me this morning. Not at all feeling okay.
Well that was before therapy. Doing better, although I realize now that as we were talking about a goal of doing something independently once a week, I didn't tell my therapist about these “hanging out in the mall food court while daughter is working out.” It does make me ponder this hashtag more- #TherapeuticThursday- “Well maybe sensory needs of partners, or a look at one of your characters disabilities and what technology, therapy etc that character uses?”- as my first girlfriend suggested when she read my pondering about blogging.
So her suggestion had both implications for my writing and my non-virtual life. Augmentative and Alternative Communication (known most by its acronym AAC) is an important thing for people with different issues, including those on the Autism Spectrum, like my character Happy and myself. I started off writing “Typing My Love,” my WIP in which Happy is one of four main characters, in part to consider what it would be like for romantic and/or queerplatonic relationship partners to use AAC with a partner who uses AAC. I didn't realize until a few weeks ago- my Master has always supported my use of AAC.
AAC in practice can mean any number of technologies, from the no-tech of using American Sign Language to an AAC device costing thousands of dollars that can be worked by the user's eye gaze. I have a laptop, a Neo (a portable word processor made by AlphaSmart), a white board with a few words related to shopping glued onto it with space for writing in dry erase marker, notebooks, and I'm also learning ASL. But as I said in the previous paragraph, my Master has always supported my use of AAC; I just need to remember His stance. One of my current writing projects is a sexual situation for my Master; I'll share the first line with you, but the contents of the whole scene is only for Him. -- “So I decided to give you two slightly related versions of something, Master.”
Now I want to share a snippet of Happy using AAC to communicate with one of joys loves. Quick explanation that I ended up having to give my therapist when she was confused by the snippet I shared with her: Happy is bigender and uses the noun-self pronouns joy/joys/joyself. Joys partners are named Ziba, Iovita, and Mairead; when my therapist asked if Ziba is a woman, I *amusingly to me* paused; I decided with Ziba and Iovita to write women who consider themselves cisgender even though they have intersex traits.
I decided to show you a snippet of a dinner in a restaurant later the in book (still “in progress”). In it, Happy's current service dog, Alfie, and service dog prospect, Vivien, are both mentioned.
Ziba held the cafe's door open for Alfie and Happy. Soon Vivien will be ready for public access training, even if we will put her to USA standards on that. She followed them inside.
Happy took out joys tablet and made it speak the prepared phrase, “Two for dinner. My partner called ahead so you were aware of my service dog.”
“Of course,” the hostess said. “This way. We set up a booth in the back corner so there would be more room for your dog.”
Ziba and Happy followed the hostess through the restaurant.
At the booth, Happy ordered Alfie to tuck under the table before joy and Ziba sat.
“Oh, oops,” the hostess said. “I didn't think to ask. Do either of you read German or should I get English menus?”
“We can understand enough German to order,” Ziba replied.
“Good. So here are your menus. Lina will be your waitress and she'll be over shortly.” The hostess hurried away.
Happy turned on joys tablet. After a bit, it said, “Thanks for calling ahead to let them know about Alfie. Although Austrians are as good about dogs as most Europeans.”
“You're welcome. It's good to be safe since we don't have anything like the US's ADA here.” She opened the plastic menu. “Well they are known for their pizza here. They make various kinds of vegan cheese in-house.”
“Hi, my name is Lina and I'll be your waitress tonight. Would you like to start with drinks?”
“I have a question about the smoothies.” At Lina's nod, Ziba continued, “Do they have ice in them?”
“No ice cubes because we use frozen fruit,” Lina said.
“I would like the mixed berry smoothie.”
Happy's tablet said, “I would like the strawberry kiwi smoothie.”
“Are you both ready to order your food or do you need time?” Lina asked.
Ziba nodded. “I would like the eighteen centimeter pizza with red onions and chef's choice of cheese.”
Happy's tablet made a weird squawking noise before saying, “Achtzehn Zentimeter Pizza mit Kase und vegetarische Wurst.” Joy snorted and voiced, “It thinks pizza is just English.”
“Bad tablet,” Ziba laughed. She turned to Lina and explained, “My partner uses text-to-speech software because speaking can be hard for them. It doesn't like what it perceives as mixed language sentences though.”
“Technology still has a long way to catch up on many things,” Lina agreed.
It's seldom that I need the same AAC support as Happy is shown using in the previous scene. Most commonly I need some written or visual way to communicate with my carer when I'm wearing my noise-canceling headphones. However, when I'm at my most distressed, sometimes having that level of communication support seems like a need to me. Of course, at 40 years old, I'm just a few years post-coming to terms with the fact that I'm on the Autism Spectrum and have unique sensory challenges; it seems that as an AFAB person, I have just learned social masking too well. Earlier in the book with Happy, I describe a childhood spent in an intentional community- in many ways, Happy got the support I also needed, but was denied. But you know, if someone sat down beside me in the food court where I'm sitting now and gestured that they wanted to type, like I've been daydreaming, I would be ecstatic.
I wanted to continue with a scene showing the use of AAC during a sexual situation, but I'm going to reserve that for next Thursday's #TherapeuticThursday.