We have landed in the family section of The Guardian this morning. A good article, though it seems to suggest that my book is something of a 'bonkbuster'. I didn't think it was that, erm... salacious, but if it helps to shift a few copies... Over all, we're really pleased with the piece.
Sally Williams has done a good job of conveying the ordinariness of what we were trying to achieve, and the desire to get back to normal life.
This said, it is rather an odd experience being all over the papers, especially as we drove through Stoke Newington this morning only to see every pedestrian with a copy of the Guardian under their arm. The print version of the story (rather than online) carries some really nice pictures. A lovely family pic around the old 'Joanna' (Cor lumme Guv'nor.Fancy a sing song? Chim-chimerny, etc.), and a nice old one of me and R asleep when she was just a tiny wee thing.
The thing is, I think R and P should be all right to venture out without being too noticeable, but I may have a bit more difficulty in being incognito. Perhaps a voluminous Burqa-style garment to cover the chair too...
The response to our desire to get back to normality following the accident has been really positive, but I feel it's important to make it clear that I have nothing but admiration for those people who have suffered some kind of illness or disability, only to go on and achieve extraordinary things. It's just that this was never my intention, and I sometimes wonder if our interest and promotion of these stories reflects the way society perceives disability.
It's as if we promote the exceptional tales in order to feel a bit more comfortable with disability, as we do with old age, because the everyday reality of most people's experience is too uncomfortable for us to entertain. Society's obsession with youth and vigour means that have a tendency to refer to old people as if they are a different species sometimes. Everyone over a certain age (either in years or appearance) is treated as having lived through the Blitz/ two world wars, have false teeth, like zip up slippers, live in a care home, listen to Vera Lynn and bang on constantly about being able to leave doors unlocked, etc.
The thing is, it seems to me that what we are doing here is to distance ourselves from old age, and by association mortality, because we find the subject too difficult to deal with. I sometimes wonder if our attitude to disability is the same as that towards ageing, hence why we jump so enthusiastically on stories of triumph over adversity, and show much less enthusiasm for issues like the shortage of adapted housing or the postcode lottery of wheelchair provision in the UK. We are more comfortable looking at successful disabled explorers who have climbed Everest using only their nose or asking centagenarians the secret of their longevity (which is usually something daft, like drinking turnip juice every full moon, or keeping a live badger in your pocket, or somesuch).
All of this probably underlines the double-whammy of my relatively recent disability and the fast approaching mid-life crisis of my fortieth birthday. I am transported back to the playground and the wounded riposte of "Well I didn't want to play your stupid game ANYWAY."
For those of you on the other side of the planet, I'll leave you with this cheery moment of radio from yesterday morning.
Hi Tim,
I’m part of the editorial team working on Able magazine, the UK’s most widely distributed general lifestyle magazine for disabled people. This is a magazine that, as its name implies, focuses very much on what people can do rather than what they can’t. Each issue includes articles on different sporting and leisure opportunities along with real life stories, information on accessible holidays and explanations of the latest disability legislation.
I would very much like to speak to you with regards possible inclusion in a future issue of Able magazine.
My contact details are as follows:
0141 419 0044
paul(at)cravenpublishing(dot)co(dot)uk
Thanks!
Paul.
Hi Tim,
I got here from the Ouch podcast page - I understand your wierdness about dealing with disability media... I've had a disability since birth but was raised completely "able" in outlook. I've only recently gotten used to the idea of enjoying disability-focused media or even getting involved with it. The Ouch-ers are pretty great though - it's the sarcastic humor that I go for.
I wanted to comment because I completely agree with your comment about how society views people with disabilities - particularly people in chairs. I come from Vancouver, Canada, where Terry Fox and Rick Hansen are from. Rick is the only person to ever wheel around the world, and Terry lost his leg to cancer and then jogged across canada on his prosthetic. I think there's something about society's need for meaning that glorifies the whole "triumph over disability" nonsense. Having known a lot of people (even been roommates with one) who have just been through rehab, I can say that the most normal, pedestrian things can be the major triumphs.
So - bravo you for writing a great book (I'm sure) about getting back to normal. But... I'll bet you that you'll write another book in a few years when your life settles out a bit - and the meeja will call it a "triumph!"