Since November, I have not slept a restful sleep. At 4am, my body wakes up to the harsh realization of what is going on in this world. This week, my novel made its debut. I am torn from celebrating to falling into a despair. I know I am not alone and that other 2017 debut authors have expressed the same sentiment.
In recent interviews I get questions on how to deal with this administration as a writer and usually I want to answer with a gif of someone screaming. I don't have an answer that can be contained in two to three sentences, that is not filled with curses.
I am angry all the time. I find so many things offensive. People posting Facebook images telling others to be kind. People trying to convince me there is such a thing as "bad protesting." The resistance is now a t-shirt that you can buy.
The other day a child cursed at my kid for no apparent reason and I immediately got on the phone with the school administration. The first person that answered the call didn't want to do a thing. "Well, she doesn't even know who the boy is." My rage was almost blinding. I didn't even know what I said but co-workers listening in on this conversation looked at me with serious concern and raised eyebrows. Don't tell me what can't be done. Listen to my reality and let's figure out how to make this better.
This is what I can do. Listen, protect the children, and figure out alternatives. This is what we can all do.