Benny, Joon, & Me: An Autism Movie Takes On Ableism & Soundly Defeats It

In 1993, my 19 year old brain latched on to a movie character and wouldn't let go. Now in 2015, I rewatched to find out why. 

In 1993 autism was considered a rare condition that was little understood. Few English-speaking mental health professionals had even heard of its higher-functioning form, Asperger Syndrome, because it wouldn't be in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistics Manual) for another year.

Nevertheless, writers and actors excel at capturing the human spirit. That year, a movie came out that accurately depicted high-functioning autism and directly combated ableism (harmful beliefs about disabled people) in unambiguous terms.

Benny & Joon is unique. How often are two disabled people allowed to fall in love with each other on the big screen? This may be the only autistic romance movie in existence.

If you are autistic, Benny & Joon offers validation, empowerment, and positive self-image. If you know an autistic adult or child, this movie should add depth to your understanding of them. And if you never expect to meet an autist, well, statistics are against you, but at least watch it to have your heart warmed and your awareness expanded.

It saddens me, however, that certain critics somehow found Benny & Joon problematic. Throughout this post, I will directly answer the points made by one of these reviews. 

Spoiler warning: This review reveals plot points and thematic arcs, but don't worry. The formulaic storyline is already somewhat predictable; the joy is in seeing it played out on screen by interesting characters. You might even enjoy it more by having this autistic lens to view it through.

Why My Brain Latched On and Wouldn't Let Go

When I first saw this movie, I didn't know that 18 years later I would be diagnosed with Aspergers. But my subconscious knew that Joon was like me. I loved Joon. I admired her. I related to her. 

I identified with her odd little mannerisms, and knew that, deep down, I wanted to hold the same flat affect on my face and make those jerky, birdlike motions. Her descriptions of the world mirrored my own strange ways of thinking. Her outbursts and unusual speech patterns reflected an inner persona I was holding at bay, like I had this little bit of crazy locked up inside that escaped sometimes when no one was looking. 

Shortly after seeing the movie the first time, I had a dream. It was of a blond girl, dressed in gray, running nimbly along the top of a castle wall. When she reached the peak, she jumped. 

And I awoke.

I knew instantly that she was inspired by Joon. There was this deep sense that the girl was incredibly smart and talented, and yet she was also mentally immature, restricted, and damaged in some way.

It inspired a novella I wrote about a princess kidnapped into slavery, and her will is beaten out of her. She is rescued in adulthood, but never lost her stunted naiveté juxtaposed against a keen mental acuity. 

When I finished writing, I realized it was an autobiography: a metaphorical account of my own abuse by teachers and peers, an allegory of the way the world misunderstood me and of all the messages from a world that told me I was crazy and broken.

I even borrowed a few decorating tips from Joon.
Colored bottles, knickknacks, brightly colored wispy fabrics.
This is basically my room.

Looking back, I can see just how validating this movie was, and how beneficial it was to my own development. 

Movies like these give millions of undiagnosed autists something to connect to and a way to feel valued when the rest of the world is marginalizing us for being different.

Evidence of Autism

The movie refers to Joon simply as "mentally ill", and doesn't comment at all on Sam's condition. In 1993, "mentally ill" might have been the only diagnosis available for a high-functioning autist. So we're left to speculate.  

The most common armchair diagnosis I've seen online (aside from autism) is that Joon is schizophrenic, and that Sam is "quirky". Perhaps this is because autists are often not thought to be capable of creativity, and since Joon is a painter, she must be schizophrenic? 

So much creationizing!
And paintifying! Look at all that paintifying!

Misconceptions like this pervade both society and the medical community, which is one reason it took me so long to look into Aspergers for myself. Like Joon, I was merely "quirky" with a tendency towards "mental illness" that I kept under wraps. 

So let's clear up the misconceptions. 

Autism traits tend to vary widely from person to person, some even manifesting in opposite ways. Many traits haven't been studied and are not part of official diagnostic manuals. When you read about autism long enough and learn about some of the root causes (like sensory processing issues), you start to notice patterns.

Let's consider Sam first. Here are his autistic traits that jumped out quite starkly:

• Special interest in movies, particularly old movies, particular the silent-film comedian, Buster Keaton.
• Twenty-six years old, with no job, living with relatives, and not functionally literate.
• "Spends all day polishing forks," according to his cousin.
• Struggles with his literacy issues when applying for a job.
• An unorthodox thinker in nearly every regard.

Joon's list is longer; she's on screen more.

• Sudden outbursts, bad enough to chase away housekeepers (aka caregivers).
• Needs things to be just right or she has an "episode".
• Picky about housekeepers. Joon rejects them for a long list of imperfections. One committed sins of metaphor, and another, "her hair smelled". These indicate sensory processing issues and a need for certainty and literalism.
• Seems comforted when she's painting. 
• Particular about food.
• Wears a helmet when riding in the car.
• Shows deep creativity and intelligence but no one takes her seriously.
• Fascinated with fire (for similar reasons why some autists are fascinated by water – watching the flow and movement).
• Doesn't get along with peers (according to her doctor).
• "Her stress level is always a factor in her display of symptoms," according to her doctor.
• Gets hung up on moral details which results in outbursts of anger (moral rigidity).
• "Her routine is everything to her," Benny describes to Sam.
• Notable stimming (self-stimulation, like rocking or shaking a leg) when she's nervous.
• Talks to herself. At some point Benny says that she hears voices, but as it's depicted on screen, it could easily be echolalia, or repetitive vocal stimming.
• Nearly has a meltdown when Sam plays loud rock music (sensory processing). She takes away his radio. Later, she has trouble articulating the experience, particularly what she was seeing and hearing, which indicates that her verbal skills are conditional.
• Kicks Sam out for "cleaning the house." Probably because her things got moved — highly anxiety-producing for many autists.

She has other traits which are more difficult to describe. For instance, she may have a form of synesthesia, which is common in autists, as evidenced by a scene in which she describes how the raisins in her pudding must feel emotionally. Many autists sense that objects have personalities, either to a mild or extreme degree.

There are only two times when she breaks with autistic behavior. 

STOP: Not typical autistic behavior.

At one point, she stands in the middle of the street and "directs traffic" with a ping pong paddle, and acts totally detached from reality. To be very clear, this is not something a typical autist would do, but might be more in line with schizophrenia or bipolar in a hyper-manic phase. 

In another scene, she melts down on a bus in a high-stress situation. Initially, her behavior is in line with an autistic meltdown (including rocking and hand flapping). But as the tension heightens, she becomes paranoid. Such behavior could stem from an extreme meltdown, but not typically.

These exceptions can be explained either by comorbidities (other conditions that occur alongside autism), or as necessary additions to drive the plot. 

A Positive Portrayal

Autistic people are capable of love, happiness, creativity, and agency.

Overall, the film portrays autism in a positive and realistic light, neither overly glorifying it, nor bemoaning our miserable fate. It grapples with real issues that autists and our caregivers or family must face, and manages to frame it in a light-hearted comedy. The theme comes across strongly and can be summarized in this sentence: 

"Disabled people have the right to make their own choices."

The movie represents autists as human and promotes neurodiversity, highlighting the value we can provide to ourselves and those around us, even to those might otherwise see us as useless burdens.

Moreover, Benny & Joon: 

• depicts autists as capable of love and deserving of a love life; 
• depicts autists as capable of happiness, even when we're not "productive" by societal standards; 
• portrays a loving sibling relationship with an autist, where her brother is (for the most part) good to her. (Contrast this to the sibling relationship in Rain Man.)

Romance

The romantic arc truly sets this film apart. It doesn't merely depict a successful autistic love relationship; it goes further, contrasting it to Benny's neurotypical romance with Ruthie.

Chemistry so powerful you can reach out and touch it.

Sam and Joon's chemistry is palpable — innocent and enchanting. They seem to communicate without words. Each seems to have finally found a kindred soul, and, though neither has any experience with love, they take their first steps with grace, with no hint of shame or self-consciousness.

In contrast, Benny and Ruthie's chemistry is awkward. Joon and Sam are far more socially capable (with each other) than the allistic (non-autistic) leads, who are constantly fumbling. Their barriers to love center around miscommunication and a lack of self-awareness. 

Things are just not coming together for these two.
These scenes are literally back to back.

This is a reversal of the standard expectations and it filled me with glee. It reminds viewers that allists can also be poor at social interactions and empathy, even with each other.

I often say that autism is characterized by extreme mental strengths and specializations juxtaposed against extreme mental deficits. Particularly sweet is how Joon and Sam's autistic extremes compliment one another, each filling in the void left by the other's weaknesses. 

In one scene, barely-literate Sam tries to write to his mother. Joon rewrites the letter with hyperlexic skill. 

One of the harsh realities of autism depicted here.
Writing is difficult for many on the spectrum,
whereas it comes easily to others, like me.

She's got problems of her own, though. For instance, she is sloppy and disorganized. He cleans the house with acute, almost obsessive, attention to detail. In spite of her initial distress, she warms to this pretty quickly.

Is Autism A "Disability"? Or A Difference In Cultures

The story argues for what many autists already believe: that most problems associated with autism aren't intrinsically caused by autism itself. They are more often caused by neurotypical expectations that autists are unable to meet, in an environment that is set up exclusively for neurotypical success. 

Every conflict Joon or Sam have is with the world, not with themselves or with each other. Individually, Joon is happy; Sam is happy. And they're happy together. 

All of their problems are caused by allists: the endless stream of housekeepers who can't get along with Joon, the doctor who wants to send Joon to a group home, and the overprotective brother who won't let her make her own choices. It's a world in which their talents — her art and Sam's performance comedy — aren't appreciated — at least not enough that anyone will give them a living wage. 

While Benny and Ruthie struggle to hook up, Joon and Sam progress blissfully and problem-free. No significant misunderstandings, no hidden defensiveness. You get the sense that if they could live on their own little planet, they'd be perfectly functional.

This is a sentiment expressed by many autists. We feel like we were born on the WrongPlanet. Our most distressing symptoms come from living in an allistic world trying to conform to a neurotypical culture.

The application process almost proves to be an unbeatable obstacle,
as it is for many on the spectrum. 

Sam eventually uses his expertise and passion for movies to get a job in a video store. Many autists struggle to feel like their idiosyncratic special interests are useful, but he figures out how to make a living at it. This isn't possible for all autists, but it's at least one role model in a world with none.

It sends a message to society: Don't underestimate us. We have skills. Maybe not the exact skills you want us to have, or we might be rough around the edges, but widen your view and you might be surprised. 

"Patronizingly Adorable" or Patronizingly Keeping Us In Our Place?

Not all reviewers agree with me. Carleen Tibbetts titled her feminist btchflcks.com review, "The Patronizingly 'Adorable' Side of Schizophrenia." As an autistic woman, I found her review patronizingly dismissive, condescending, and ignorant.

The author of the piece is bipolar, which makes her an authority on invisible disabilities in general, but it does not make her an authority on autism. Just to make it clear: being one neurotype does not make you an expert on other neurotypes. I live with a bipolar woman, a couple of OCDs, and another aspie. I'm careful to never assume their experience. 

Even though she concludes that Joon is autistic, Tibbetts insists on using the word "schizophrenic," as if the two neurotypes are interchangeable. It's frankly offensive… probably to schizophrenics, too.

Her lack of knowledge is revealed in a number of places. Most egregious is when she calls Joon's outbursts "tantrums", when she indicates that better meds might help with this and her "erratic behavior". Anyone familiar with ASD would call them "meltdowns," or at the very least, would use non-derogatory terms. They would also understand that, while some meds can help reduce anxiety and lower risk and severity of meltdowns, there is no medication currently that can treat the erratic behavior of autism. Many autists would resist taking such a med out of fear that it would change the very nature of who we are.

This? Is not a "tantrum."

"Tantrum" implies a childish, manipulative call for attention. In reality, a meltdown is a sensory overload that floods our brains with panic or emotional overwhelm, leaving us with little control over our bodies or speech. I tell people a meltdown is like an emotional seizure, and they should treat it like a medical problem. It's poor allyship to perpetuate this marginalizing stereotype.

Her review flies under the flag of false advocacy. Her outrage at Benny & Joon reminds me of the Derpy Hooves controversy, where parents of developmentally challenged children found the My Little Pony character offensive, and protested to get her edited out of the show. In contrast, the majority of actual autists felt personally attacked. A character we related to was made invisible by our supposed allies. By deleting Derpy, they deleted us.

Save Derpy

I dare you not to cry.

The organization Autism Speaks does the same thing in the name of autism advocacy. As does Ms. Tibbetts in this review.

These patronizing, chivalrous, well-meaning allies are Disability Ventriloquists, because they think we're dummies and they try to speak for us. We remain dehumanized, pawns without agency, moved around on the chessboard by whoever speaks for us the loudest. 

I am not your dummy.
#ActuallyAutistic

But I'd like to thank Ms. Tibbetts for being wrong, because she provides a good counterpoint for a detailed look at what this movie does right. 

Too Adorkable? Oh noes!

The Bitch Flicks review takes greatest issue with how Benny & Joon presents autism: 

"There is NOTHING 'adorable' about mental illness… [This movie] trivializes and downplays a serious, crippling disorder." 

Ahem. 

First, autism is not a "crippling disorder," which is a point made within the film itself when Benny repeatedly underestimates Joon's and Sam's capabilities. For Bitch Flicks to perpetuate this stereotype in the face of a film that attempts to dismantle it is the pinnacle of ablism.

Secondly, Benny & Joon is a comedy. Its job is making us laugh.

Nevertheless, the darker aspects of autism are explicitly portrayed. Benny's life is severely impacted by having to take care of his sister. Sam is grateful to sleep on Benny's couch because his cousin had him sleeping under the sink. Joon nearly burns the house down a couple of times. One of her meltdowns is so uncomfortably and realistically depicted on screen that tears came to my eyes. 

This living situation is an improvement over
sleeping under the sink.

Autistic life sucks, and this movie gives us glimpses of these harsh realities lurking there beneath the surface.

But life as an autist is awesome, too. We are quirky, fun-loving, talented. Yes, we can giggle and paint and be silly. When we're given full freedom to express ourselves, life is an absolute joy to live, both for us, and for our loved ones.

Should we be condemned to misery, even in fiction, because disabilities are Serious Business? Are we to only have depressing horror films made about us? Is neurotypical society only allowed to see what a burden we are, and how unredeemable and useless we are? Are we supposed to have every light-hearted happy-ending stricken from our collective consciousness?

If I need to see the untarnished details of the most horrific aspects of being "abnormal", I'll watch Melancholia, Girl Interrupted, Heavenly Creatures, or Silence of the Lambs. Or I'll just read my twitter feed for about 15 minutes. Or visit some of my own worst memories.

Problematic? You Don't Get How Stories Work

Some social justice media critics think that if any character acts badly, the whole story is problematic. 

I want to destroy that idea right now. 

Ka-boom.

Problematic behavior exists in real life, and it therefore should be depicted in fiction.

Why? Because those who experience these situations in real life need something relate to. And those who commit harmful behaviors need to see the harm they cause. 

I wish more social justice champions understood how how plot and theme work. Here's a quick rundown:

As Robert McKee points out in Story (a how-to book for screenwriters and novelists) a theme is an argument between two opposing values, which builds, until it reaches a final conclusion. 

It's a debate: a fictional argument. You have to show characters acting in opposition. Who will turn out to be right? The story must depict the tragic results of acting on the opposing value. If no character behaves badly, the conclusion will ring hollow. 

If you make a movie to combat ablism, you must depict ablism. To make a movie combatting sexism, you must portray sexism. To make a movie against racism, you've got to show some racists. Otherwise, you have a boring, unconvincing movie where nothing happens. And if we successfully remove these types of problematic content from our fiction, our movement will fizzle out and die.

Combatting oppresssion
through the power of creativity

So the real proof of a problematic story is in its ending. 

We can tell by the ending that the theme of Benny & Joon is, "Developmentally disabled people are capable of, and have the right, to make their own choices." 

The movie refuses to justify Benny's abuse of Joon and Sam. It condemns his behavior and then offers him redemption in a very simple form: Stop treating your sister like a child. Let her grow up and follow her own path.

An ableist movie would have sent a smiling Joon off to live safely ever after in an institution. The theme would concluded: "Disabled people cannot think for themselves, so they should live out of sight lest they offend our sensibilities or hurt someone."

Sadly, it seems that Ms. Tibbetts might have preferred that message.

What Seems Problematic Is Actually Good Storytelling

Benny has taken care of his sister since their parents died. He resists putting her in a group home because he thinks she won't be happy there, and he wants her to have some level of independence. This is admirable.

But he isn't perfect. He is patronizing and overprotective. Moreover, he's in the difficult position most caregivers are: It's hard to care for someone with special needs. It sets limitations on his free time, money, social life, and energy. He's under a constant emotional drain.

According to Tibbetts, "Benny & Joon deals far more with Benny’s 'unfortunate' situation of having to care for his sister than it does with Joon herself. Yes, although it does speak to Joon’s creativity, her spirit, etc., it doesn’t address the fact that Benny's kept her infantilized most of her adult life." 

Firstly, the stress of caregiving shouldn't be so flippantly dismissed. It's clear in this movie that Benny simultaneously loves his sister, enjoys her company, and is becoming resentful of the distress she causes him. This is a realistic situation, and an understandable reaction. As an autistic mother with autistic children, I know this all too well.

Secondly, the movie does far more than address Benny's well-intentioned but misguided mistreatment of his sister. This is, in fact, the whole point of the movie, as is shown through dialog, over and over again. 

For example, Sam has been pursuing a job at the video store, where he hopes to capitalize on his special interest. But Benny thinks Sam should make a living as a performer. Sam resists this idea, and in the confrontation, Benny and Joon discuss Sam like he isn't there: 

This is what addressing ableism looks like.
Benny comes off looking like a big huge jerk in this scene.

"What is your problem?" Benny asks Joon. "This is his chance to do something, be somebody."

"He is somebody," Joon replies.

"Yeah, I know, but he wants to be more."

"You don't know what he wants."

The argument for autistic agency couldn't be any more clear. Joon is addressing Benny's tendency to infantilize Sam, and by extension, her. And since she's a strong female protagonist, she stands her ground against the onslaught.

Then Joon turns and invites Sam into the conversation, and the couple tells Benny, in not so many words, that they're "together". 

Right on cue, Benny blatantly denies Joon the agency to choose who she loves. He violently kicks Sam out of the house. When she defends her rights, he becomes physically violent with her and decides he's going to send her to the group home, because she can't make good decisions.

Here she is robbed of agency in a very literal way: In the home, she will have no freedom or independence whatsoever. 

Benny, after their fight: "Can I get you anything?"
In my head canon, Joon replies, "Yes. A new brother!"

Benny's attitude is ableist and misogynist. It's the well-meaning paternalism that mentally and physically disabled people have come to expect from real people everywhere. 

Ms. Tibbetts can't seem to see how she, too, reflects this attitude in her review, or how it denies us freedom, agency, love, and the ability to be represented with these qualities. She tries to speak for us in the same way Benny speaks for Sam and Joon, an allist who assumes she knows what we want, what media we should or shouldn't relate to or find meaning in, because she knows what's best for us. 

And that makes her a Disability Ventriloquist.

This scene further drives home the point that our greatest problems come from allists who continually try to force us into unnatural and unfulfilling ways of being: whether it's in career direction, institutions, rigid social expectations, abusive teaching techniques, or through certain abusive therapies.

In a later confrontation with Sam, Benny becomes even more abusive. His behavior crosses the line into bullying territory as he is both violent and verbally cruel to Sam: 

"You wanna know why everyone laughs at you, Sam? Because you're an idiot." 

The comment stings in this context, and the word carries with it the harsh power it once had before it started being so casually tossed around. The same hurtful power the "R" word still carries. 

Just to be sure he's clear, Benny puts all the venom he possibly can into his voice and follows up with, "You're a first class moron."

Oh no. You did NOT just say that.

In response, Sam displays that uncanny human insight that we autists are often capable of. He looks past Benny's aggressive outward behavior and pinpoints Benny's deeper issue: "You're scared," he says. Then he asserts his agency and condemns Benny: "I used to look up to you. Now I can't look at you at all."

Sam's simple statement stops Benny. In that magical Hollywood moment, Benny realizes how he's mistreated Joon. 

As soon as he sees her, he lets go of her, offering her autonomy, a chance to live on her own and to choose her own relationships. 

"I'm through making decisions for you," he says, driving the theme home. 

She rightly doesn't trust this change of heart, and during the ensuing argument, she displays the same uncanny autistic insight skill as Sam: "You need me to be sick," she accuses. 

Of course this has been true in the past. But Benny has changed. When the doctor pressures Benny to put Joon in a group home ("Joon, we want what's best for you"), he gets his chance to prove his new course in the movie's final thematic pivot. He stops the doctor and says, "Why don't we ask Joon what she wants?"

Conclusion: Joon is a human being; stop treating her like a child.

The Feminist Angle

There are few women in this movie. Two men fight over the girl. These are good flaws to point out. 

But I'm also of this opinion: No movie can, or should, escape every problematic trope. When you're throwing new ideas at an audience, you've got to stay focused. If you veer too far from what the audience expects, your point gets lost. 

Here's a film that tackles the theme of disability in an impressive way. This argument would have been diluted with sisterhood themes, had Benny instead been Bernadette. 

Moreover, we got to see a rarely depicted male character: a nurturing and loving brother who sacrifices money, relationships, and free time, to take care of his sister. This important portrayal helps defeat patriarchal macho-male stereotypes.

Or imagine if Sam was instead Samantha. In 1993, no one would have gone to see the movie, and even today, the disability theme would be completely obliterated by a more controversial LGBT theme.

Tibbetts criticizes the film for giving Sam's talents more screen time than Joon's. But we actually spend far more time following Joon. She is the first person we see, and Sam isn't even introduced until 20 minutes in. We already like her, so we don't need to see dwell on her talents. (Plus, it's kind of boring to watch someone paint.)

Sam is the manic pixie dream boy, who exists solely to liberate Joon from her cloistered, sheltered life. We're not rooting for Sam to win Joon; we're rooting for Joon to win Sam. It's a reversal of the boy-meets-girl trope, so we're watching Sam through her gaze; we need to see what she likes about him. 

So manic. So pixie.
#Swoon

After all, she is the one doing the choosing. And that portrayal gets two thumbs up from this feminist.

Mental Health Services Are The Answer?

Ms. Tibbitts claims the movie doesn't show Joon getting treatment of any kind. I have to wonder if she fell asleep during the scenes with the aforementioned doctor. In one scene, Joon exits a personal session which I assumed was therapy. She is also on medication. 

There is no reason to assume this suddenly stops just because Joon moves out. We might also hope they are able to get social services. Those details are the sort of boring minutia reserved for Wikipedia, government websites, and clinic pamphlets. Not for the ending of a movie.

Ms. Tibbitts' attitude seems to imply that getting help is easy and safe. It is not necessarily either. Most disabled people are pressed for money, professional help is expensive, insurance doesn't cover most of our needs, and social services are severely lacking and difficult to navigate, especially for people on the autistic spectrum. 

Even when we can find a way to pay for it, and get through the paperwork, mental health services are desperately in shortage, in what USA Today calls a "man-made disaster".

From:
http://www.afaa-us.org/storage/documents/OAR_NYCA_survey_Current_State_of_Services_for_Adults_with_Autism.pdf

Worse, there are many dangerous programs and therapies that cause more harm than good. Controversy surrounds even some commonly accepted practices. 

A news story about abuses at the Judge Rotenberg Center
just last summer. Yes, including electroshock therapy. (Aug 2014)

Moving into a group home is not all happiness and daisies. As the doctor in the movie says, "These are very nice places," but they always say that. Institutions are often rife with all manner of abuses, ranging from neglect (and here), to electroshock therapy, to outright beatings and rape. It's nice to think those barbaric practices are a thing of the past, but we can't count on it.

Yes, therapy, meds, treatment are often beneficial. But it's dangerous to pretend these solutions are the answer for every autistic person. It bothers me to no end when allists carelessly toss them out as if it's all solved. It most certainly isn't.

For some autists, love is the only available answer. And many don't even have that.

Strong Disabled Female Character

Ms. Tibbetts' review concludes, "…the underlying message [is] that all Joon really needs is a stable romantic relationship rather than a stable relationship with herself, especially in relation to functioning in the outside world…" 

Thanks for your concern Ms. Feminist Lady, but I like myself fine.
Oh, and also?
#Swoon

Sorry, but Joon likes herself just fine, and neurotypicals be damned. She makes her choices and continues to assert herself against a powerful force that seeks to completely take away her freedom. Through meeting Sam, a fellow autist, she finalizes her already-begun self-actualization. She is liberated.

She isn't cured or changed. Instead, the world changes to allow her to live as she chooses.

This is what the neurodiversity and anti-ableism movement is fighting for. We wish to be accepted without having to force ourselves into the mold society expects of us. 

Yet it's by this mold that the reviewer judges Joon. She implies that Joon isn't in a stable relationship with herself unless it's in relation to the neurotypical world. Her relation to herself, only to herself, as a hetro woman in love with another disabled person, letting him provide for her so she can make art, doesn't seem matter. 

In the end, Joon and Sam don't let ableist messages control them. And neither will I. I won't let Disability Ventriloquists speak for me. No matter how well-intentioned they are.

Build a Bigger Berry

You're in a restaurant supply grocery store, the kind with walk-in freezers and where you can buy 5 lb boxes of strawberries. The produce refrigerator, in which you're standing, smells like old broccoli. As you lift the box of strawberries to place on the cart, the lid pops open, and the biggest strawberry you've ever beheld falls to the gray concrete floor.

What do you do?

* Actual Size. Not part of this complete breakfast.
or, "It's dangerous to go alone. Take this!"

Nothing could be less interesting than a strawberry falling on the floor. Or so it seems. Yet the circumstances  for this event can shape important elements of story: the stakes, character development, plot, worldbuilding, and theme. The first three are essential, but if a writer does her job right, a minor strawberry-fumble scene should convey all five.

Stakes & Tension

This true story (which actually happened to me) only became interesting because of two factors:

1) A strawberry the size of my fist,
2) a floor of the sort my mother taught me never to even walk on without washing my feet afterwards.

The stakes were raised. Not a small berry, a big one. Not a clean floor, a nasty one.

Circumstances had set up a dichotomy for me. A difficult choice. I became fascinated with how I would meet this challenge. In order for your plot to be interesting, your choices must be interesting.

To increase stakes, you can tweak the circumstances. Is the strawberry large or small? Ripe or rotten? Is the character is starving? Was she commanded by the king to find the largest strawberry ever, on penalty of death? (The king will never know it hit the floor... right?)

Character Development

"I'm going to give you the choice I never had."
 Lestat, Interview with a Vampire

Choice defines character. Once you've given them a quirky laugh and a lopsided hat (characteristics), ultimately, your character is made by the choices they make.

If your character picks up the berry with a look of wonder, it tells us she is mesmerized by large berries.

If it's a normal berry and she picks it up, maybe she is a spendthrift and can't let anything go to waste. Or maybe she doesn't care about cleanliness.

If she leaves it on the ground where someone else can step on it and make a mess or even get hurt, maybe she's thoughtless or reckless.

If she puts the strawberry back in the box and places it on the shelf so she can buy a different box, we have all kinds of subtle, and potentially negative, indicators about her personality.

The results of one decision will still leave motives and personality vague, so a series of choices across scenes can compound to paint the broader picture.

Plot

A series of decisions constitutes plot. Events can occur randomly or coincidentally, but preferably, the result of the first choice should have consequences to start your plot-chain, each event a result of a previous decision.

Or better, events can be created by choices made by your other characters. Your characters should all have independent and preferably opposing desires. As they attempt to achieve their goals, they work against one another. That's how the plot thickens.

What if she picks up the strawberry, takes it home, and all is well until her child eats it without washing, and gets e. coli?

Or she leaves it in the fridge for three weeks and the whole box spoils, and that starts an argument with her partner?

What if she puts it back on the shelf and someone she admires spots her irresponsible behavior?

What if she leaves it on the ground and someone is injured by slipping on it?

What if she simply cannot stop thinking about the strawberry, and it turns into a blog post?

This is why readers read. This is what constitutes story.

Worldbuilding

Other details about each experience can show elements of your world without an info dump. In my example, the strawberry fell in a normal grocery store in the ordinary world. Or did it? ...

Show the rules of the magic or tech or culture through the decision and its consequences.

Maybe it's a magic strawberry and the character shrinks and has to live on it under the produce shelf where it's rolled until it gets all moldy and is carried off by a rat.

Maybe the character has a curse that she must eat every strawberry she sees, and a second geas binding her to never eat anything that touches the ground. Talk about raising the stakes.

Maybe it's a genetically engineered strawberry that kills germs. Maybe the floor is kept clean by robots. Maybe her species doesn't even need food and it's just a plastic strawberry.

You can give hints as to the behavior of your world through simple scenes like this. Just remember to keep the stakes and tension high by not eliminating all strawberry-floor problems with advanced technology.)

Theme

Why write a strawberry falling into the floor and not a beer spilling in a bar, or a dagger being pressed into the chest of an enemy, or a horse running away?

The props, events, and choices in the scene can reverberate and reinforce, either consciously or subconsciously, a larger, overarching feeling or meaning. Berries can represent many things: life, growth, food, color, freshness, waste, rot, fertility, goodness, sweetness, health, youth, agriculture, consumerism.

A scene with a strawberry, then a horse, then a memory about grandma's farm may conjure a theme of farming, youth, or health. Or all three.

A scene with a strawberry, then a rose, and then a wild sexy romp with a stranger shifts the theme to passion, hedonism, sensuality.

If you want to go with consumerism and decay, have another scene with an overflowing garbage can and a pile of unwanted Christmas presents.

Theme is how we make a story more than entertaining. It gives the story meaning.

Conclusion

If you've written a scene that's fallen flat, maybe you just need to tweak a few subtle elements to raise the stakes, to make the choice hard, to reveal elements of character, to build your world, and reinforce themes.

Just build a bigger berry.

Les Misérables and Ayn Rand

I delight in finding flaws in Ayn Rand's reasoning using the tools of logic she promoted. This isn't because I hate Ayn Rand; to the contrary, she has been highly influential and I respect her greatly.

Just as she did, I enjoy battling contradiction where ever I find it. Rand herself said, in the (in)famous John Galt speech of Atlas Shrugged, "To arrive at a contradiction is to confess an error in one’s thinking; to maintain a contradiction is to abdicate one’s mind and to evict oneself from the realm of reality." This woman who espoused individual thinking and death to dogma created perhaps one of the greatest contradictions -- followers who question not a word she spoke, who thirty years after her expiration date continue to walk in lock step and exile anyone who dares question or have an original idea.

Perhaps it is also because I have the heart of a hacker that I love to poke. Rand's philosophy, Objectivism, is a complex yet elegant machine, so self-assured of its own function, wholeness, and security, that I cannot resist breaking it apart whenever I can. Objectivism is a machine that has a place in this world, but it should not run the world. It should click along quietly in the shadows, cranking out interesting ideas, and keeping corruption of certain types in check. It should not produce a type of corruption itself; a corruption which has, unfortunately, permeated much of our society, corporate culture, and government.

It is in this spirit I write this post.

Just as Ayn Rand is one of my influences, she often cited Victor Hugo as one of hers. She idealized romanticism, which she saw as a type of art which distilled reality down into its most poignant, beautiful, powerful parts. Art should lift up humanity's highest values as a guide for all to follow, and she found this in Hugo's work. Her favorite of these works is also my favorite: Les Misérables.

[Spoiler warning: Les Mis is one of those timeless stories that shouldn't require a spoiler warning. Ruining the surprise doesn't really ruin the surprise. Nonetheless, I speak in detail from here on out.]

Rand spoke often of the "ideal man" in fiction, and Jean Valjean stood tall as the most ideal of ideal men. She respected his dignity and unremitting honesty, his determination and perseverance, his independence and industry. If these are the traits Ayn Rand loved, she detested their opposites. She had the harshest words about selflessness, altruism, sacrifice, piety, and devotion to God. The poor were probably poor because they refused to lift themselves up, and in a properly structured Capitalist, atheist society, greed would motivate those who wanted a better life badly enough to work for it, and punish those who did not.

Hugo's novel exposed the levers in French society with which the upper class oppressed the lower class. Of this, she said, "Les Misérables was the big experience. Everything about it became important to me, holy, everything that reminded me of it was a souvenir of my love. It was my first view of how one should see life, wider than any concretes of the story. I didn’t approve of the ideas about the poor and the disinherited, except that Hugo set them up in a way that I could sympathize with; they were the victims of government, of the aristocracy, or established authority."

Clearly Rand was inspired by Les Misérables for many of the same reasons I am. Aside from the complex and interesting plot, there is something about the actions of the characters, the unjust world, and the fight for a future freedom, that resounds with the post-Enlightenment soul. I read an abridged version of Les Misérables as a teenager and became familiar with the musical long before I encountered Rand in my late 20's. By then I had seen every film production and had the lyrics to most of the songs memorized. 

Yesterday I watched the new film production with Objectivism tickling the back of my mind. The movie fills in details that the musical glosses over. They added quite a few lines of speech and music to explain some of the holes you might not understand from the musical alone. Most of the story fit the Objecticist worldview. In spite of the injustice established by moochers like the French aristocracy and the Thénardiers running around making life generally suck for everyone, Jean Valjean manages to succeed. He never complains. He starts a factory and becomes the mayor, and as he is perused by the unrelentingly lawful Javert throughout France, he manages to continue to succeed, keep his promises, and be an all around great guy.

Clearly an ideal man in a novel that Ayn Rand could have easily written herself. The few times Valjean gives anything to anyone, it's in exchange for something he values. Even his promise to take care of Cosette springs from his personal feelings of justice, since it is by his own inadvertent actions that Fantine, an honest hard-worker, gets fired and eventually dies. Those who give their lives at the barricade do so for the sake of freedom. Marius is a sort of mini-Valjean full of his own ideals and values and noble pursuits. The love between Marius and Cosette is a love of equals, two worthy human beings who find value in each other.

In Hugo's work, altruism loses, virtuous selfishness wins.

Except for one thing. Here is where it all falls apart. All of Valjean's admirable actions and heroic deeds hinge on a single simple act by a minor character -- one act without which Valjean would have died a bitter, thieving moocher of a man. Just another Thénardier, a nameless, faceless, undignified whining wretch. This act is not only altruistic and selfless, it is done in the name of God, by a man of God. 

Valjean is given shelter in a cathedral by Bishop Myriel. At his first chance, Valjean steals the silver. When he is caught fleeing, he knows he will be sent back to prison for life. Yet when confronted by the police, the Bishop tells them he gave the silver to Valjean, and offers him two candlesticks that he "forgot". After the police leave, the Bishop tells Valjean to take the silver and begin a new life. In the musical, the Bishop sings, "I have bought your soul for God."

This one action causes a crisis of conscious for Valjean (in contrast to Javert's later crisis when Valjean saves his life). Valjean's cynical view of the world is shattered. He takes the silver and invests in the engines of capitalism, starting the factory and becoming the mayor. He employs hundreds of workers and lives a life Ayn Rand would wholly approve of.

Up until that moment, Valjean was a filthy freeloader. His savior was a selfless man of God. Both Valjean and the Bishop have every trait to qualify as a villain or a victim in a Rand novel. In her story, Valjean would have run off with the silver; blown it all on drugs, charity, taxes, or something equally vile; and returned to steal again. In her story, the Bishop would have used Valjean for his own ends only to meet destruction through his altruistic folly.

Though I respect the values of Objectivism, I am no longer an Objectivist. It is too single-minded, too caught up in the rule of the Laws of Logic to see the exceptions, to see that goodness in life is a balancing act of a whole spectrum of values. Just as Javert could not believe Valjean had been redeemed in spite of all the evidence before him, Ayn Rand ignored that a well-timed selfless act does as much good as well-implemented capitalism. All of our values have a place, and any of them can be taken too far. 

Those in power are resourceful at remaining in power. I am as mistrustful of corporate power as I am of the government. Yes, we have come a long way since 19th century France. But we haven't changed as much as we think. Our system is better, yet it still works to keep the poor down. Businesses require money. Intelligence requires good nutrition. Education requires skilled teachers and adequate facilities. Success requires good health, access to computers, and social connections. All of which are out of reach of millions of people. It's not that they are unwilling to climb the ladder of success, but that the first rung is held too high for them to reach.

Without a little help, like the help Bishop Myriel gave Valjean, even the most capable and idealistic of the unfortunate are no more capable of lifting themselves from the gutter than Valjean would have been. Capitalism does not solve every problem. Sometimes it takes a little senseless charity.

The Next Big Thing

Andrew Williams graciously invited me to be next in the Next Big Thing blog hop. He got it from Eric J. Guignard, who got it from Erik T. Johnson, who caught it from John F.D. Taff, who doesn't really remember where he got it from.

If all infections diseases were so fun and productive to spread, we'd have no need for modern medicine. I guess that's why they think of memes as a life form. The symptom of this disease is that I will be posting the answers to ten questions about my current work in progress. As a reader, you have no need to fear -- I will not be spreading this infection to you. If you never engage in the unsafe act of writing fiction, you are inoculated.

My writer friends, on the other hand, are completely exposed, and I have infected tagged four of them who will be acting out their symptoms next week on December 19th.

Hey, at least it's not a pyramid scheme...

...or IS it?

Now for the questions...

What is the working title of your next book?

Emerald City Iron. The theme grew nicely out of the working title, so it is now firmly the title.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

This novel is a sequel to my last novel, Emerald City Dreamer. I wanted a simple monster-hunting plot to parallel Sandy's inner growth, and so used the most horrifying monster I'd ever encountered in all of my fairy lore research - the Nuckelavee. Because I never can be too mean to Sandy.

What genre does your book fall under?

Urban Fantasy.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Scarlett Johansson would make a pretty decent Sandy, as long as she's wearing reading glasses.

Only with auburn hair.

Phaesyle should be played by Elle Fanning.

Woops, did I accidentally trick you with enigmatic phrasing again?
I'm such a faerie!

Kirsten Dunst has the perfect face to play Gretel - round and youthful, almost childlike.

Only with round glasses and an accent.

Jamie Hyneman of Mythbusters might make a good Hollis, if he had long white hair and shaved everything below his nose instead. Philip Seymour Hoffman has the right versatility and subtly as an actor, but not quite the right face.

Hollis is likely to glare, like this. Also he is just as likely to make something nerdy and cool...

...but this guy can actually act.

Emily Haines, lead singer in Metric, would make a perfect Jina. I wouldn't want anyone else to play this part.

Everybody just want to fall in love.
Everybody just wanna play the lead.

Jett would be a difficult role to fill, given her other-worldliness. Aside from having elfin features, she is half-Japanese, half-Irish. Matsushima Nanako or Yuko Takeuchi might come close.

She's a thousand years old..

...but you'd never know it. Maybe it's Maybelline.*
(*Actually, it's glamour created by feasting on the will of dreamers.)

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

While hunting down a dangerous faerie sea monster, Sandy Windham gets help from a therapist and discovers why her inner demons won't stay dead.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

I will self-publish Emerald City Iron to retain creative control of the series.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

This is a very short novel. My target was novella and it went long. I took my time, editing old scenes as I continued to write new ones. I began plotting and outlining in mid-September, and I finished the final scene in mid-November. So about two months. Now I'm doing final cleanup, which is going really quickly.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

To be honest, I don't read enough Urban Fantasy to make a comparison. I do try to be unique, crafting deeply psychological UF, and so far, I haven't run across anyone else doing that. If you have, please let me know in the comments and I'll check it out.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Folklore. And I drew very strongly from my own experiences with hunting faeries personal growth and trauma recovery. Metaphorically, Sandy's struggles in Emerald City Iron mirror my own during the past year. I learned as much from her as she learned from me.

What else about the book might pique the reader's interest?

Seattle. Faeries. Danger. New characters. Thematic metaphors. Harpoon cannons. Squirt guns. Beach battles. Surprises. Tir Nan Og. Angry elves. Abandoned buildings. Drinking. Hallucinations. Cellar Demons. Bodies. Mutilated cattle. Explosions. Boats. Seagull poop. Trespassing.

Tag, You're It

The following four authors are totally cool, and they're all working on the Next Big Thing. Be sure to visit they're blogs on December 19th to catch a glimpse of their projects.

John Nakamura Remy
Andrew Rosenberg
Elf Sternberg
Jennifer Brozek

Ultimate Fantasy Escapism: Choose Your Race, Choose Your Class.

You're starting a new game. It may be a table-top RPG, or the latest MMORPG. You create a character.

Your very first choice: Race. You can be a human, elf, dwarf, halfling, orc, lizardman, or cat-person. Some games even offer different kinds of elves (light vs. dark elves), and in still others you can be mixed-race -- say half-elf.

Your choice isn't just cosmetic. Your race will provide you with a starter personality and an ethnic background you can expand upon. Based on your race, your character will be given inborn advantages and disadvanges: differences in intelligence, strength, dexterity, charm, health, and ability to buy and sell at a discount.

Next you choose gender, which usually provides no difference in gameplay, other than how cute the ass is you will be staring at for the next eighty hours.

Then you choose your class. Do you want to be a fighter, or thief? Monk or mage? Archer or knight? Will you rule your foes with magic or might? Your birthright is yours for the choosing.

Of course we know fantasy is escapism. The real question is: What are we escaping from? The doldrums of life, certainly. Who wouldn't want the chance, through hard work and many hours of rolling dice and clicking mice, to eventually become a king? Or a powerful mage? (Alongside thousands of our peers.) It's the perfect blend of aristocracy and meritocracy: A world ruled by invincible hereditary dominance, with all the upward mobility of modern society.

But is there something deeper we're escaping from? It has bothered me somewhat, as David Brin has put it well, that fantasy glorifies a non-existent golden age. A medieval time when benevolent kings and mages (aka religious priests) kept the kingdom in a perpetual state of peace so the happy farmers could live out their simple pastoral lives, never having to worry about rush hour, corporate mergers, and Manager Rob.

That is, until Evil McOverlord comes along to stir up the joyous peasant's otherwise idyllic lives. This is the time when that one special peasant takes the chance every peasant has, to climb the serfdom ladder and, by luck of destiny and/or secret birthright, exercise his right to become a king or mage himself. Through his well-rewarded efforts, the countryside can go back to blissfully herding sheep.

If only...

So what is it that attracts us to that specific time? Why the middle ages? Why not the Enlightenment, when the class system began to change and people began to demand freedom and equality? What is it about the values of one of the lowest points of Western Civilization, sandwiched between the glory of the Roman Empire and the Enlightenment, that attracts millions of fans?

Could it be those worlds are acting as a surrogate for something we all crave? Could the clues to this craving be in the very words we use to describe our first choices in character creation -- "race" and "class"?

Violence is another nasty little element we idolize in our entertainment. When we look at history, we realize why the past wasn't so idyllic. Violence has been a part of regular human experience of nearly every individual on earth until very recently. Men were sent to war not once a generation, but once a year, with cattle raids and such happening more frequently. Even in peacetime, dinner came from the pasture or the forest and it was something you had to kill and dress with your own hands. No one had to wonder if blood had a smell, because it was more than just a smudge of red pixels on your computer screen -- blood was simply a part of life.

Violence is written in our genes. Now that we are more civilized, we have a historical privilege we all take for granted. We rarely commit or are victims of violence. Fiction is our outlet. We give life to imaginary phantoms, only so we can take it away with the slash of a sword. We can watch death, read about it, and even act it out, in a way that hurts no one.

Likewise, tribalism is writ in our genes. Racism, classism, religious hate. There was a time when the majority of our ancestors believed there were tangible physical, moral, and spiritual differences between peoples of other races, cultures, and castes. People outside the familiar group were not human, they were "other". And those groups were generally very small, limited to families, tribes, small kingdoms, or local religions. Killing someone outside your group came easily and without regret. Like violence itself, these were survival tools in a world where letting go of limited resources or undefended territories could mean your death.

Here in the United States in 2012, we have new values to live by. These values are luxuries we enjoy in a world with abundant resources, and in part, we have abundant resources because of these values.

Among them:

• All humans are created equal. 
• All humans have the same capacity for achievement, regardless of gender, race, or class. 
• The playing field should be level so that hard work can lead to success. 
• We all deserve equal reward for equal effort.
• Those at the top who do not contribute should fall to make room for those who do contribute.

Not everyone holds these values. (Just go read the comments section on news articles and YouTube.) But they are our cultural standard. It is what we strive for.

We take for granted that even mere decades ago, majorities held opposite values. During those medieval times, races were considered fundamentally superior and inferior. Members of the upper class were divinely chosen by birth. Knowledge was reserved for those privileged enough to join the clergy. Enslaving others, be it through ownership or serfdom, was considered noble. Forcibly robbing whole nations of their cultures was thought to be an act of moral goodness.

As our society slowly outgrows our base instincts, we have replaced real hate with playful outlets. We've built political groups, religious factions, sports teams, and subcultures, and most of the time, tribalism is harmless. More or less.

Racism and classism still very much exist, even in "civilized" America, just as violence still exists. People still die because of their race, and upper classes still believe themselves better and use power to maintain position. We are always poised on the brink of some terrible mob-mentality disaster.

At heart, we are still tribal. "Us vs. Them" is wired in the very nature of the human spirit. It is manipulated by politicians and religious leaders to keep us committing guilt-free acts of violence, large and small, real and metaphorical, against other human beings.

The important thing is that our society now strives to overcome it. Our fiction reflects this: The "underdog" movie is ever popular. The little guy works hard, and in spite of the odds, in spite of the intolerance and hate directed at him, he rises to the top. This is our culture's idea of a happy ending.

Yet our culture makes violent films as well. An outlet. A way to pretend.

Unlike violence, depictions of justified hate can actually reinforce real hate. How can we feel the satisfaction of superiority, without it being at another's expense? How can we foster a sense of equality while at the same time, satisfy our intolerant urges?

We log in, we choose our race, we choose our gender, and we choose our class.

Oh, we may not realize it. We don't set out to play at racism anymore than we set out to commit play-violence. All we know is that it's fun to fight goblins and orcs and lizardmen. Everyone knows goblins are ugly and genetically inferior. They aren't human. We can kill them with glee, secure in the knowledge that they don't deserve to live. Secure in our knowledge that no one in the real world is hurt by our hate.

It's taken for granted that elves hate dwarves, and everyone justifyably hates goblins, and there's nothing wrong with that; no harm done. Dwarves can go on cracking elf jokes and having a good time, at no one's expense. 

(That's not to say fantasy is entirely free from real-world parallels to existing cultures who are harmed by stereotypes. I frequently see culture appropriation that goes a little too far. Likewise, violence in media is not completely free from influencing violence in real life.)

We have the privilege to play at being underprivileged. If we decide we don't like life as an Asura Thief, because the Asura are too short and everyone thinks we look like children and we're big nerds, and we find out the life of a thief really stinks, we can start again, as a giant Norn guardian with a big sword, who doesn't have to take orders from anybody.

A new life and new destiny is just a re-roll away.

Most of the time, fantasy fiction is completely unaware of its own themes. Sometimes, much to my delight, a game or novel becomes aware, and uses uses fantasy intolerance to hold a mirror up to our society.

Dragon Age springs to mind. In this fantasy world, elves are considered inferior to all other races and have been segregated into "Alienages". The game explores themes of racism and segregation. Most non-elves accept this reality. Some don't think it's fair. The elves themselves react sometimes passively, sometimes actively, and some have formed into groups to change things, sometimes using violent means. Your own character gets to make choices, and those choices have real consequences.

We play this game through our own culture's eyes. Unlike the dehumanized goblins of other games, where the world is bettered by the hated-group's demise, the elves have personalities. They are humanized. We know the elves' suffering is unjust.

Even when we commit genocidal acts against the elves, we know they are the "evil" choices, and we make them with a sick kind of glee, (just like when the game gives us violent and sadistic choices), because we are not allowed to feel that way in real life. Unlike our ancestors, we know these choices are wrong. And you get to see exactly how those choices play out.

Even when we're playing at being evil, we see how the virtual elves are hurt.

This can't be said of real-world hatred. Those who wrap themselves up in racism or religious hatred or other forms of tribalism, do not see their enemies as human. They see them as "the other". They feel no more moral crisis at the deaths of black people, or Mulsims, than I feel getting an achievement for slaughtering my 1,000th green-skinned goblin.

Fantasy gives us pretend racism and classism, and when we're done, we can return to our privileged and moral lives. I choose to see it for what it is, and rest easy knowing that, just as I wouldn't wield a sword against a real human being, I also wouldn't really want to live in a world where inequality, injustice, intolerance, and genocide are glorified.

Games provide an acceptable outlet for make-believe hate. And the more people who redirect their hatred away from real human beings, towards virtual races, the better.