Olmstead Clarification: Segregation

Imagine you're a child: You have loving parents, maybe some siblings, possibly a spotted brown mutt that you chase fireflies with, and definitely some wild dreams of who you will be when you grow up. You struggle in school, all subjects, but your parents reassure you (and themselves) that you'll catch up. But you don't. So, they go to a doctor and are told you will never be "normal" and that an institution is best for "someone like you." It's decades before the Americans with Disabilities Act is signed. You have no access to special education. Community services aren't available. There is no therapy outside of an institution. So, your parents agree. 

You grow up bouncing between facilities. Your parents become elderly. You imagine your old pal (who you missed out on years with and didn't get to say goodbye to) chasing fireflies between heaven's clouds. You don't get to have a romantic partner, learn to drive a car, get a job, or even choose the color of the sheets you sleep on. But, somewhere in the long stretch of gray, the doctors agree you're well enough to live in your community. 

It's years between their decision to release you and your freedom because there is still, after decades, no programs to help you reintegrate. There are no services to have someone come in and assist you with the few things you can't manage alone. Now, your parents aren't even around. 

You have to go to court to be free. In 1999, the Supreme Court sides with you. They rule that "segregation of persons with disabilities constitutes discrimination in violation of title II of the Americans with Disabilities Act." You finally get a chance at a better life. Your court case is known as Olmstead, and it helps a lot of disabled people stay in their homes and communities.

*~*~*

This month, a memo put out by the Justice Department says the integration mandate in Olmstead can't be enforced and that states aren't required to provide services (like in-home healthcare) to ensure disabled people can stay in their communities. In short, if the state a disabled person lives in decides it will no longer provide care, there are few options that will exist outside of an institution.

Some people will say: Chill out, a memo isn't a law. 

It's not, but it is permission. Permission to cut programs to "save money." Permission for a school to gut their special education department (something that might happen anyway now that the Department of Education is being scattered among other departments). Permission to allow private investors to build more institutions. It's permission for businesses to not make their buildings ADA-compliant because more disabled people will be afraid to "make waves" now that their place in their community is exceedingly tenuous. 

The memo combined with targeted attacks on the program that pays family members who are caregivers and the expanded work requirements for people getting assistance (even those suffering from cancer) can be seen as nothing but the intentional dismantling of protections and the construction of harmful roadblocks. They want disabled people in for-profit institutions, four of us crammed into a room meant for two, making stockholders sweet dividends. Out of sight like decades ago, sentenced to life for the crime of being a cripple.

Poems and Scraps

 

I wrote over twenty-five poems for April's Poem-a-Day Challenge (another year I didn't "win"). When I was editing the viable pieces earlier this month, I had a brief flare of panic; I couldn't remember any other poems I wrote this year. Do I only pen new poems during challenge months now? Would I still be a "real poet" if I only had significant output two months out of twelve?

And then I took the travel notebook out of my purse.

And then I looked at the drafts section of my email.

And then I paged through the steno book I keep on my couch.

Although I'm not creating as much as I'd like, I've definitely written more than April's bounty. I just used to be better at transferring over scraps and scribbles to a master document. I jot down verses on van rides and forget as pain and brain fog gobble my attention. Ideas are scratched onto a torn page and then tucked inside a book as I get ready to sleep. I become coordinator and participant in a private, poetic scavenger hunt.

I edited around seventeen poems and two flash fiction pieces this month with a few difficult ones requiring more marination time in their own document. At least five of those were written prior to April. Several other poems aren't publishable in literary magazines but would make good Instagram posts.

It's a relief, knowing that I'm still getting words down (regardless of how slow it may be) year-round. 

Dinner Party Minus You: Word Search

Notes before beginning:

1. My sister, Crafter on Wheels, interviewed me for her channel. It's audio only but can be found by clicking here. 

2. My YouTube channel is filled with poetry shorts, but I occasionally cover other topics like the Shy Girl debacle.

3. "Dinner Party Minus You" was first published in Red Rock Review.

Semi-Bedbound Writer

I lie on my left side over 19 hours a day with few exceptions. The old sponge mattress on my living room floor has a permanent imprint after years of holding me longer than my husband can. A small, white bench I've had since childhood is my dining table, nail salon, craft space, writing desk, and occasional seat. 

Chronic pain has always permeated my life. My hips have grown inward. My shoulders and elbows crack and crunch. My knees are unhappy after decades of crawling. Muscles are tense and spasm, causing me to jerk when concentrating on a physical task. Arthritis, though present since my teen years, started infiltrating my hands after my 40th birthday. My back aches for no discernable reason. 

Chronic fatigue is a newer partner. It found me after sepsis a decade ago and refuses to depart. A few hours out of my apartment means days of recovery—I sleep more, have increased pain, and battle brain fog. Visitors and sitting up in a chair without leaving home can also make things worse. Even editing or responding to emails can drain my battery.

*****

Each task I do requires planning. If I go out on Monday for three hours, I can't schedule anything else until around Thursday (Wednesday, if I'm extremely lucky). Working on a story for multiple hours a day for two or three days means a persistent headache and reduced ability to focus. And sometimes, I can do everything "right" and still wake up too stiff to move or with a low-grade fever I can't explain.

As writers, we're told not only to tell great stories or religiously edit our poems, but to network and get on various social media platforms multiple times a week. My YouTube channel suffers because I can't make the videos I want without sacrificing something else. Do I reschedule a doctor's appointment to write a new video script? Do I stop making holiday cards to create Instagram posts? If I have five useable "outdoor" hours a week and ten I can use on tasks mostly lying down, where do I put my energy? 

*****

One of the things people don't talk about with chronic illness is the grief and anger that comes with it. I lost two of the people I love the most because I'm unable to babysit during first shift for months at a time. Projects, no matter how much I try, rarely get off the ground. A job would hospitalize me within a couple weeks. Medical appointments are usually a third (sometimes half or all) of my monthly outings. 

There is so much I want to experience. So much I want to do. I've pivoted around obstacles to the point of dizziness, tempered my expectations to the point of near nothingness. And still, my heart breaks. The world goes by without me. People learn to drive, move to new cities, change careers, travel, and I stay put... collecting diagnoses like baseball cards. White walls creep closer. Screens are my windows to the world. 

I try to hold onto the good: My husband, my two siblings, a safe place to live, beautiful music, a few (mostly online) friends, and stories that take me out of my bed and towards adventure. I tell myself that no one knows what can happen tomorrow (though the last decade of tomorrows hasn't boded well). I look out the window as farmland and small towns fly by on the way to another blood test and pretend I'm on a road trip. I write another blog post lying on my left side.

Proliferation of AI Book Covers

Notes before beginning: 

1. I have a fantasy flash fiction piece up to read at Schlock!

2. Some people have been duped by others into thinking they purchased a genuine image for their ads or whatnot; it's why I differentiate between those knowing something is AI generated or not.

Back in November, I reviewed three Christmas books on this blog. I tried to find reads in a range of genres to share. There were even two holiday horror selections I had picked out—a short story collection and a novel. I ended up not reviewing either... because of AI.

As far as I know, neither book was written with the help of AI, but they weren't free of it. The novel had a cover with an '80s aesthetic I thought was a photo and added clip art, but the interior mentioned that AI "made" it. The short story collection had a drawn cover, which was produced by a human, but at the end of every story was an image definitely not created by a person.

I'm against generative AI for more reasons than I care to get into here, but it goes against my morals to openly discuss/promote work I know uses AI to churn it out. I still haven't read either book all the way through and don't expect to.

A lot of writers, even those against using AI to craft a novel, will still consider using AI to design their cover art or online ads. How is it okay to steal art for a book cover just to turn around and slap an "anti-piracy" page in your book? Even better, novels written with the "help" of AI sometimes have a notice inside warning people that the story cannot be taken to train LLMs! I guess they're fine with taking other people's art but refuse to feed those marvelous machines... hypocrites.

Amazon has a way to mark if a story was created by a slop machine, but it's not mandatory. Most people who use AI to finish a novel will often refuse to indicate how they "wrote" their "creations" because they know readers predominantly prefer stories by actual authors. I believe anyone knowingly using generative AI on things sold to the public without disclosure should be in trouble for false advertising.

Honestly, I can't always tell when something is crapped out by AI versus being human-made, and it will only get more difficult to tell down the road. Do you have trouble with figuring out what images, books, and videos are produced by AI?

2025: Year in Review

2025 felt like a year of calamity. Each month, my husband and I had to deal with another disaster or heartache. We finally got a cellphone after realizing we could no longer stream without one (which lead to panic as our ISP shut off our service without consent). A family member was hospitalized for a few days at the beginning of the year. I received a new diagnosis that requires ongoing maintenance shortly after my 40th birthday. We lost a long-time neighbor and friend around Thanksgiving. On and on.

*~*~*

I had to reject a contract from Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine in October. I didn't realize the publication had new owners with a (in my opinion) predatory boilerplate contract. They barely budged when I tried to negotiate and, though they claim they worked with the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association to create a fair starting agreement, I have trouble believing they changed anything at all. I waited for years to see one of my poems in Asimov's; it's now a dream that will never come true.

The writing group I attended at the local library is no longer the same. I haven't been there in over a year. I miss it, but it's geared more for novelists than anyone else now. I also just don't feel as welcome at the library proper since our board made... improvements.

*~*~*

Submissions by the numbers:

Submissions sent - 53

Rejections - 37

Acceptances - 10 (eighteen poems, four flash fiction pieces)

Spectral Realms: (Toc only)

The Disappointed Housewife: Three poems

SpecPoVerse: Three poems 

Micromance: "Until the Stars"

Schlock: "Ten Minutes After the Summoning"

3 Best Versions of "A Christmas Carol"

There's never been such a retold tale as the Christmas classic by Charles Dickens. Plays, books, TV specials, and interpretive dances spin the story on repeat. And the near-obscene amount of films can keep you watching for days! Should you sit down to a more traditional rendition featuring the incomparable Sir Patrick Stewart? Do you feel like watching talking animals trying to save their farm in My Dad is Scrooge? 

If you're having trouble picking out a few worthwhile watches, let me help you.

3. An All Dogs Christmas Carol

Charlie and Itchy are back on Earth to save Christmas from the clutches of the evil Belladonna. In order to do so, they have to make her lackey Carface (played by Ernest Borgnine) clean up his act and turn against her before midnight.

The music in this is quite catchy, the voice acting is good, and the animation is serviceable. The packaging around the story is one of the more unique ones as the Scrooge character is far from the only being at risk of falling to darkness. 

Memorable Moment: The song "I Always Get Emotional at Christmastime" is an earworm.

2. The Muppet Christmas Carol

Sir Michael Caine plays Scrooge opposite of the Muppets in this version. Kermit is Bob Cratchit. Gonzo and Rizzo are narrators. And it has all the charm you would expect from a production by the Jim Henson Company.

I wrote a review on this movie a few years ago, so I won't go into it too far. But the hijinks and music still hold up today. The juxtaposition of Caine's straight-laced performance mixed with the zaniness of the Muppets is a marvelous blend that will please children and adults alike.

Memorable Moment: The breakup scene with Belle in the uncut version.

1. Bah, Humduck! A Looney Tunes Christmas

Daffy, an orphaned department store mogul, runs his workers into the ground to line his pockets. After he announces that his store will be open all day on Christmas, the ghosts visit him during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The animation in this special is absolutely spectacular, top-notch stuff. Comedic moments are plentiful and giggle-worthy. Numerous characters from the franchise are represented, so you're likely to see at least see one of your favorites. Read my full review!

Memorable Moment: The Ghost of Christmas Present (Yosemite Sam) giving Daffy/Scrooge the what for.

***

Honorable mentions:

Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol
It's Christmas, Carol!

A Christmas Karen 

Mickey's Christmas Carol

The Stingiest Man in Town

My Dad is Scrooge 

A Jetson Christmas Carol