NaNoWriMo and Negative Infinity

Yep, I'm quite insane. I'm doing NaNoWriMo--fifty thousand words in one month--while attempting to keep my grades up. Oh, and did I mention the school's finally starting my evaluations? I might finally get the help I need. (And on top of that, I'm building NCC 1701D. Better known as the Starship Enterprise from the Next Generation. How, you ask? Slightly aired out Crayola Model Magic and paint with cardboard supports. Along with insanity, my ambition is extreme.)

But anyway, my novel is called Negative Infinity. It's my first novel I'm planning on publishing, and it pretty much disproves every stereotype that ever existed about autistics. (Sorry if you like it capitalized, I've never had the tendency. If I talk to you and you ask me to, I will.) For one, the main character is non-speaking. Although I speak, I sometimes lose it if I'm exhausted. In those cases, only a word or two can slip out. So I know the frustration that comes along with it. But Tanner, the main character, is really lucky--the school realized how smart she was and let her use a tablet. That tablet is her lifeline when someone doesn't know her crude form of ASL, adapted from her deaf brother Bryce, a senior in high school. She's mostly mainstreamed, except when no teachers want her in their class, the situation she has in history. She's allowed to do things at her pace because of that, something I know many autistics could use. Especially those of us with extremely good memories. So at the end of eighth grade, her math teacher allows her to take some time to herself, and she thinks of something extraordinary: negative infinity.

The summer after she turns fourteen, she visits her grandparents' ranch in Arizona with her younger sister, Brenn. For the first time, her father is able to see how much she loves animals. After she breaks in one of the stallions on the ranch with her grandfather's help, she's given a puppy to bring home to Upstate New York. She promptly names him Diablo when he undoes her carefully tied shoelaces two minutes after their first hello. After they go home, Tanner begins to train him. But high school begins just two days later, and that means struggles. But Tanner isn't worried, because she knows the school system won't mind her being herself.

Of course, that's not the case with Brenn. The book starts out with Brenn not even diagnosed, but we later find out she is, also, autistic. She hates third grade, and begins to run away at least once every couple of weeks. Tanner notices, however, that she doesn't go without first saying goodbye to Diablo. This prompts her to train Diablo even further, and after getting permission from her parents, she starts his training as a service dog for Brenn.

But in the meantime, Brenn's running has an effect on Tanner's parents. They begin to fight, and halfway through the school year, they start talking about a divorce. Brenn's recent diagnosis doesn't help matters. So while Brenn is running away and Bryce is getting ready for his graduation, Tanner alone has Diablo's training. But by May, with the divorce finalized and all three kids staying with their mom for the school year, Tanner gets a special gift for her birthday: a service dog harness. Diablo's training had come along so well that in Brenn's newly finalized IEP, it was stated that she could have him with her at all times. Her running away stops very quickly, as her frustration at her needs not being met disappears. Everything turns out alright for everyone.

People have been telling me they like the plot because it is realistic. That's the important part--it could happen. That's how we're going to spread the word. We're all perfectly intelligent. We just think differently.

Tanner's brain is wired like mine. And I'm going to spread this story.

So you'll try to understand me.

So you'll try to comprehend.

So I'll just mean discovery

Of trinkets, odds and ends.

P.S. One of my commentors will get this at some point, so I'll say this: BBC Radio Silence 2014. And I'll also give you credit if you can tell me the Vernon Dursley line that applies to this post. Yes, I'm an autistic fangirl.

Don't You Dare

Some people.

They just don't get it. I mean, people purposely steal my seat on the bus. They've done that for years. But purposely clapping your hands two feet from my ear after I've told you to stop? Purposely thrusting a basketball to the ground with two hands--an illegal move in the game you're playing-- just because I'm standing nearby?

Purposely directing profanity at me, and following it with "you?"

I'm starting to doubt that some of these sophomores are civilized human beings at all.

There are two of them, really. I have to deal with them three times a week in gym. They have, together, caused multiple public meltdowns and about a dozen at home. Sin-gle-hand-ed-ly.

Last night, Mom called the school and reported it. The guidance counselor had been notified of the profanity I had been subjected to first block, but had no clue about the clapping or basketball.

Yesterday was bad. But today was better.

First off, it was a half day. That's why I'm posting so early. Because of this, from the fifteen or so tokens I had to start with (a concept that I have really loved and embraced since I found out about it) school only took about four or five. I've regained them since arriving home. Of course, my shoulder hurts a ton right now, but that's because I partially dislocate it some nights from my tossing and turning. It'll be alright tomorrow, most likely.

Next thing, one of the boys was gone.

I only deal with him during health and gym normally. Today was a health day. He wasn't present. He was in the office. I'm pretty sure he's an official bully. The other boy was in class, but he had clearly been in the office earlier in the day.

You want to know why autistic children are bullied more often? They aren't. It's just that they will keep it a secret until it's the clearest thing to all of their teachers, unlike the other kids, who tell someone right away. The autistic kids don't have trust. They have to have a lifeline. Otherwise, you won't see the bullies caught until the damage has been done.

Schools, you have been warned.

You see, I remember.

You know, I can't forget.

You may try to understand me,

But I'm something you don't get.

P. S. I'm now typing The Attic from memory. Here's your clue: I share this eidetic memory with the main character's brother, as stated in the fourth short story collection. This older brother "has the greatest capacity for storing facts of any man living." Of course, this was a long time ago.

On the Matter of Echolalia

I'm proud of myself. I'm posting twice in one day. Awesome.

But anyway, my second cousin's son is extremely echolalic. He's sitting outside of my room right now, playing with Mr. Potato Head. He's not even two years old. But he's really good at it, from the words filtering through my door.

He's collecting glasses.

He's saying he's a sponge.

"Yeah!"

Why do people say echolalia is so bad? I just don't get it.

Oh, wow. My mom just said, "You've got good language." He responded with, "Yeah!" He's not even two. This sounds like me, of course. But the best part--"yeah" is his echolalia at work right now. He said it not even five minutes ago after hearing my mom say it. And he responds with "yeah" in an appropriate context.

Yet if I quote something, even if it is in context, somebody will tell me to use my words.

Mine.

Mine.

The words are mine.

Do you understand? I'm not just saying something at random. I said "V" earlier under my breath. This was when I was overwhelmed because my sister brought two of my second cousins and their older brother's son. I needed away. So I said "V". My mind was working so fast, that was the first thing I came to.

V is the Roman numeral for five. Have you ever heard of Beethoven's Fifth?

P.S. Yes, The Attic is actually somewhat echolalic of me. That's why I love it. I quote it all the time. Does quoting yourself count as echolalia?

Information from all sources,

Information that I know.

Info never to be covered,

Even in dust light as snow.

Warning: Broken Computer

Yep, that's right. The main computer shut down, and it's a hardware problem so I can't just reprogram it and fix it. We've already tried a new graphics card. My uncle thinks it's the motherboard.

The only other computer in the house is my personal one, without access to the Internet, at my mom's request. But my ADD brother has a few extra laptops laying around his house, so I'm on one that he brought over.

Now for my executive functioning problems today. First, I have an extremely high metabolism. I've already had a huge bowl of cereal, another bowl of potato sticks, and two huge smores today. I'm still starving. So that makes it so I can't focus on my schoolwork on my day off. Yep--I've got two projects due on Friday. How unlucky. Especially since I've also got a bad cold.

Of course, I'm used to this. As soon as I finish this post, I'm researching Galileo for a project in history. I'm the only one working alone, as there are an odd number of us in the class. But I prefer it, as I explained to the teacher. I'm happier this way.

I've also got a geometry project. It's on the different postulates and theorems, and we have to write information about each of them. I'm on page five of twenty-three, and I'm stuck. I still struggle to put into words the difference between equality and congruence. I can see it, I can think it, I can diagram it. I can't write it. That'll take some research, too.

I'm listening to Eye of the Tiger right now. I was just watching Star Trek: The Next Generation. Both of these things reference, in code, the one thing I based The Attic on. I'll keep hinting at it until someone gets it. Here's the next verse, and I hope to update soon.

My attic is just different.

My attic is not filled. 

My attic has the needed facts, 

Were I to be grilled.