Writers have magical powers. They can turn their dreams into a reader’s reality. It’s an intimate sharing, and great stories become a part of us.
I spent a lot of time in bad places growing up, and writers like Tolkien and Silverburg, Heinlein and Hemingway, LeGuin and L’engle spirited me away to big bright worlds I got lost in. All I had to do was wipe away a tear, turn a page, and for a little while, I was someplace safe.
I wanted that kind of power. Now I write, and stories are still magic to me.
There aren’t many stories with handicapped heroes. When my oldest was little he was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome. There weren’t any superheroes like my son, and I looked hard. He was wired differently than other kids and in many ways, he lived in a different world. But he was honest and indomitable and funny and other kids rallied around him even though he was different. Raising kids isn’t easy, and different can be wonderful, but it’s hard to be an outsider to the tribe. Degrees of hate and mistrust can come from surprisingly unexpected places.
A writer whose work is well-loved and who I respect just experienced hate and a campaign of censorship because she shared the first draft of a story about the magical adventures of a girl with Down Syndrome to a friend who betrayed her trust in the vilest of ways, directly and through a social media mob, to threaten the author and her publisher if they didn’t immediately stop work on this story. They didn’t want discourse, or to inform a point, they wanted to burn her unborn book.
This philosophy of “if I don’t agree with a person or like a thing then no one can like it” is an arrogant disease spreading throughout our culture. It’s the opposite of freedom of speech. It’s nothing short of intellectual fascism.
Truth be told, I don’t know if I’ll like the final story after rewrites and editing, but I want the opportunity to read it and decide for myself. I love the idea, the author is a powerful storyteller, and I think the world benefits from different kinds of heroes. Particularly for children who don’t have many protagonists who look and act like them. Especially if she reframes our perspective or shows us an insight we might have otherwise never seen.
That’s a place I’d like to go as a reader, and a story I would have liked to have been able to share with my son when he was little and first became aware that he was different.
I won’t be told what books I can and can not read, and I’m glad the author and her publisher stood their ground against the digital torches and pitchforks of that angry mob. Ideas and differing views can be frightening, but where would we be today if we never challenged our assumptions.
Let me know what you think.