Neurodiversity, Mental Illness, and the Fiction Narrative

What does neurodiverse mean?

According to https://www.disabled-world.com/disability/awareness/neurodiversity/ the word neurodiverse includes an expanding number of conditions that need to be accepted as part of the human condition.

"Today, neurodiversity is broadly defined as an approach to learning and disability that suggests diverse neurological conditions appear as a result of normal variations in the human genome.

Neurodiversity advocates promote support systems (such as inclusion-focused services, accommodations, communication and assistive technologies, occupational training, and independent living support) that allow those who are neuro-divergent to live their lives as they are, rather than being coerced or forced to adopt uncritically accepted ideas of normality, or to conform to a clinical ideal.

Different people think differently - not just because of differences in culture or life experience, but because their brains are "wired" to work differently.

"Neurodiversity is not a word about autism alone. It is a word that embraces all neurological uniqueness, all rhythms of neurodevelopment and all the forms by which humans can express themselves and contribute to their world." - newforums.com/use-term-neurodiversity/"

I have worked providing accommodations for many individuals who had a diversity of brain issues, and I have a family member who is neurodiverse. That word hasn't been around that long, and so my family member struggled through numerous oddball labels and definitions -- autism, depression, bipolar, schizo-this or schizo-that -- it got crazy for us and for the family member, because none of these labels had any diagnostic touchstone. In the 90's, I accepted that reality, but in the 2000s, I started to wonder. If there's no evidence, no blood test, no MRI, no x-ray, sonogram, no nothing...then what are we really talking about here? And if the label keeps changing, what does that say about the medical practitioners who are creating and dishing out these labels?

Those are rhetorical questions, because, from my point of view, we are talking about the concept written above -- people are neurodiverse, and there are a variety of ways that neurodiversity reveals itself in humans. The answer to the second question about medical practitioners is that they are not qualified to label individuals with an "illness" when there is no diagnostic proof it exists. The symptoms vary and are vague or pronounced depending on how they affect each individual. As I often say, if doctors diagnosed heart conditions the way they diagnose mental illness or autism, they'd be sued for malpractice.

And as regards mental illness -- with all due respect to practitioners -- psychiatry is 17th century medicine. 

So what's this got to do with the fiction narrative, you ask. I have been dealing with this for a while. My first book with a character with mental illness was In Albuquerque, Abandoned, published in 2016. One of the characters, a suspect, had schizophrenia. The character's challenges, the prejudices against him, the challenges of his family -- these are all examined as the mystery is solved. I communicated with several readers who had family members diagnosed with schizophrenia after the book was published, and I began to think about the situation more seriously.

Then I started another mystery novel about a family detective agency that was started to give the mentally ill family member a place to work, because her personality was different and hard to appreciate. After writing the first few chapters of the book, I stepped back. I didn't like the label, so I took the leap -- I called her undiagnosed, or misdiagnosed. As the story unfolds, her different way of seeing and operating in the world is turned to an advantage. This is when I learned about and embraced the concept of neurodiversity.  The character is challenging to her family and to other characters because her behavior is not neuro-conventional, yet her unique method of operating in the uncovers information that the characters who are neuro-conventional don't see.

I created a word there -- neuro-conventional.  Maybe you can find another, and the words and labels don't really matter.  I guess the way I see it is the way the Burt and Ernie characters saw it in a tape I used to have when the kids were small..."Anybody Can Play."  In other words, people need not be eliminated from our life experiences, our work world, our church, or our community because they don't play the same way we do. We can make room for them.

And I am trying to make room for people with disabilities -- diverse individuals -- in my fiction narrative. While I don't--yet--have a physical impairment, I will if I live long enough. I have struggled with mental health issues -- and I only succeeded in managing those issues successfully when I accepted the idea that it's okay to function differently from others.

So...all of this said, we need fiction novels for adults with characters with neurodiversity who are part of the narrative, not the subject of the narrative. We need more adult fiction with characters with disabilities who are part of the narrative, not heroes because they live with the disability or subjects of pity.

Thus, being submitted to publishers now is my mystery novel that includes Spree, who lives with neurodiversity and her family, who lives with her and her neurodiversity with love and with challenge.

Silencing Sistine by Tower Lowe

The star investigator at The Finders, a missing persons agency, is the multiply diagnosed (neurodiverse) Spree, a Brazilian adoptee, sister to long suffering Jack and daughter to the ever-patient Eva, who started the agency to keep her family together. The team are hired out of Santa Fe, New Mexico to find Sistine, who disappeared from Miami twenty years ago on the arm of a dangerous man. Sistine’s younger sister, Lace, hires the agency when her dying mother accuses Sistine of murdering their father.

The story quickly moves to Cuba, where The Finders discover that the story of Sistine is a bit more complicated than they first thought. The Cuban government, Cuban families in both countries, and a mysterious stranger back in the United States cloud their efforts to locate the elusive Sistine. Spree’s quirky personality and intuition drive the family towards a resolution, aided by Jack’s sketches and Eva’s knowledge of human psychology.  

More on the book and characters with neurodiversity in fiction when the book releases.

Thank you for following all that is mysterious and romantic in New Mexico.

The Ghost of San Miguel Past

I spent the last two weeks in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, and I wondered: Does that old colonial town full of artists, great Mexican food, mercados, and USA ex-pats have any old ghosts?

Claro que sí.

 I asked one of our neighbors, a Mexico native who has lived ten years in San Miguel de Allende, and did she ever have a story to tell. It starts in on of the historic hotels in El Centro, which is basically the town square. This hotel goes way back into the time when the Spanish ruled the area. 

In this hotel, people kept losing items of clothing! The aristocracy staying there blamed the Maya who worked for them, but they Maya simply shook their heads and whispered. Finally, one of the young Spanish girls -- Carmelita -- who had befriended a young Maya girl asked, "What are you whispering about the missing clothes?"

"Aluxes," the Maya girl said. "They are stealing the clothes because they do not like the people."

"What is an Aluxes?"

"They are little people who live in the forest. Mostly they joke around, but, in this case, they are mad because the Maya are not getting enough food."

"How do you know that?"

"They whisper to us in the night."

Carmelita did not really believe this story, so she asked if she could spend the night with her friend and hear the Aluxes for herself.

It was agreed, because Carmelita was a very spoiled child and usually go to do whatever she wanted. It was fun to stay with the Maya family, as they were warm and funny, and not so strict as Carmelita's family. The girl meant to stay awake until the Aluxes appeared. But she and her friend snuggled into blankets on the floor, and after the warm meal of beans and squash, Carmelita fell instantly asleep. She dreamed off beautiful gowns and tiaras and as she went forward to try on one of the beautiful dresses, but just as she was ready to put it on, the dress was snatched away, and Carmelita was left standing naked. She awoke, and felt a cold wind on her chest. 

Carmelita opened her eyes. She saw a tiny figure holding the tip of her blanket, pulling it off her shoulders.

"No!" she called, but the creature continued. It was a girl, too, and she winked at Carmelita once the blanket was down to her waist. Then she hopped on the Spanish girl's chest, tickling her so that she laughed.

"What do you want?" she asked.

The little creature walked closer to Carmelita's face. And then, she ran to her shoulder an leaned into her ear.

"You must tell your mother that the Maya don't have enough food. Just as you were cold when you tried to wear the beautiful dress, the Maya are hungry when they prepare your food."

"Tell her yourself!" Carmelita did not think her mother would like the message.

But the Alux had disappeared and Carmelita was covered by her blanket again and warm. The next morning, she told her little friend about the visit.

"You must help us," he friend said.

So, Carmelita, spoiled and beloved, told her mother about the night time visit of the creature and her message. Her mother looked at her closely and then bushed Carmelita's hair from her face.

"I think you are a very observant little girl," she said.  And she gave her daughter a basket to fill with food for the Maya.

That's a nice story, I told my Mexican neighbor.

"Indeed. But watch out, now. For once you speak of the Aluxes, they will come to visit you with a message."

Little did I know, that very thing would happen in two days. I'll write about it in my next post.

And that's why it's mysterious in New Mexico (and Mexico, too!)

A romantic ghost story?

What? You say a graveyard isn't romantic? But this is a ghost story. My great great grandfather is the guy under that tall obelisk, and I remember he had something like four wives. Now, the facts have it that they died in childbirth. Now that was common back then, with childbirth being an extremely dangerous event. And, sadly, one of the babies died of whooping cough, also an extremely dangerous event back then.

But teenage girls like a ghost story, and I had a girlfriend who was descended from one of my great great grandfather's wives. And here's what she heard from her grandmother about that...

Miss Rosa Thornton was the wife in question -- already known to haunt the hallways of my antebellum house in Homeville. (See pic below.)

Miss Rosa haunted the lives of her sisters after her untimely death. The sisters attended church one Sunday and sat next to a woman who introduced herself as "Rosa." They did not recognize their sister, but at one point the woman got up and walked to the altar. No one seemed to notice as Rosa circled the church. She stopped at the sister's pew, leaned down, and whisptered, "I miss you, but I loved another man, and I had had to get away from my husband."

Afterwards, when the sisters asked the other churchgoers, they all said they didn't see any woman at all, much less their sister Rosa. So maybe she was never there, maybe she never had a lover, and maybe she died in childbirth. Either way, we are .... mysterious in New Mexico.

Romantic New Mexico

I decided to try out something new....Romance...or, actually, Romantic Suspense. I've finished the first draft and I'm halfway through the second. What fun!

Here's my working blurb for Let me Out, Please by Tower Lowe...

A charming conversation between Miguel Alvarez and Molly Monahan is interrupted by a lone gunman who enters the Santa Fe real estate office and murders Molly’s friend Gloria. An email sent before Gloria died propels Molly and Miguel into a hunt for the killer. The two are immediately attracted to each other, but Miguel is a recovering addict who can’t leave his past behind, and Molly doesn’t dare trust him – especially after being dumped by her fiance because of her stroke-damaged arm. Soon Molly realizes her life is in danger, and so is Miguel’s – or is it? Miguel may be part of the plot to kill her. Molly fights for her life until she uncovers the unexpected truth.

Graveyard Ghost in the Attic

Here's a little fictional ghost story based on Homeville and my latest novel set there, Premonition. 

Part of the story is true...

I was five, and my grandfather was my hero. He took me around his half acre garden, explaining all the plants and vegetables, he took me to the spooky cemetery out back and pointed to the gravestones, explaining who they were and how they died -- particularly one woman who died in childbirth. Her little baby died, too, and was buried right beside her. I was barefoot and mesmerized, a country girl with big eyes and a vivid imagination.

One afternoon, we trudged up to the second floor of the farmhouse (see pic here) It was hot in those days -- no air conditioning, just fans to throw around the air. Grandaddy put up a ladder and opened the entrance to the attic. Recall, I was small, and I had no idea what an attic was...I thought it was an entrance to the past. And, in a way, that's what an attic is -- a place where the past is stored. Grandaddy let me look into the opening and I saw boxes and old dressers, a pile of tools and a trunk full of lacy cotton undergarments. I know now these were from the early part of the 20th century, but at the time I thought they might be the clothes of ghosts.

Grandaddy disappeared into the attic, looking for an old footstool, and I stood at the entrance, dizzy from the heat. I saw visions of the graveyard where my ancestors were buried. I thought about the baby and that's when I saw her -- a woman dressed all in white undergarments, her hair pulled on top of her head, reaching out to me. I felt the tendrils of her hands on my arms, her warm breath on my cheeks, and I screamed.

Grandaddy was upset of course. Why was this little kid screaming while he tried to a stool in the attic? I told him I saw a lady in white, but he only laughed.

Was she a figment of my imagination, or was she trying to get back her baby?

That's why it's still mysterious in New Mexico -- and Homeville, too.

Ghosts Appear

See More Here

Ghosts or no Ghosts?

The supernatural enters my new murder mystery through elements of the past (1864-5) trying to break through to the present (1972-4).
Here are some of the Ghosts that appear to the characters in 1972-4.

1. A young man from the 1890s holding a law book appears in a deer's eyes in 1974. 
2. The sounds of fire crackling and the smell of smoke from a kitchen fire in 1864 overcome the modern day Cotton Lee on the front porch.
3. The voice of the Civil war Sophie as she falls down the stairs is heard by a modern day character who slips on his attic stairs.
4. Cotton Lee in 1974 sees the figure of Martha, the young Civil War cousin of Sophie. Martha is angry.
5. And then there are the ancestor's, lurking in the forest and threatening the 1974 plumber as he digs up the sewer. 
6. The image a modern day Mark sees driving to a Christmas party at ... is a it a drug fueled hallucination, or the devil himself?

Read decide for yourself whether the past is trying to break through to the present, or the characters merely have rich imaginations.

Available for purchase here.