life – A. L. Lester

RAtR: Kind of, anyway

Read Around the Rainbow

As you’re probably aware, #RAtR is a blogging project I am doing with a few friends who also write LGBTQIA romance. You can find everyone by clicking here or on the image to the right.

Hi! Hello! The observant among you will have noticed I have been absent from RAtR, and pretty much everywhere else, for the best part of a year. In that time I’ve sent out a couple of newsletters I think and put one or two things on my FB group. But essentially I’ve been focusing on family.

Littlest became very ill with a respiratory infection last September. She was in hospital for five months and became critically ill the week before Christmas. We prepared for the worst; and then the day before Christmas Eve she didn’t quite sit up and demand a bacon sandwich. But she pulled round very quickly and was discharged to home in the second week of January. We knew we were on borrowed time and amended her Advanced Care Plan accordingly.

Health and Social Care pulled a number of rabbits out of their various hats and we had an incredible amount of help put in place at home. She was largely confined to bed initially, but then towards the end of February she improved further and was able to get out and about a couple of times a week. She thoroughly enjoyed it, as she was so bored in bed. We focused on ‘quality over quantity’ and organised for her to go back to school for a few hours a week.

Luck was always against us though, and at the end of June, she passed away of COVID. It was quick, at home and surrounded by family who loved her. She was fifteen.

We are now at the end of August and I am just beginning to realise she’s not coming back. I lie in bed at night, and in my head I imagine she is asleep next door, and I can hear the quiet thump of the oxygen condenser and swsssh of the ventilator. That any moment she will mutter in her sleep or call out for one of us to come and reposition her, or pick up the cuddly toys she has thrown overboard.

It is inconceivable to me that she is gone, although we knew that this moment would happen. The house is bare without her mobility aids and when the team came to remove the ceiling hoists, I cried. If we go out, I still rush, and check my watch, and count minutes off on my head so we won’t be back late for her carers. Our grocery shopping no longer has regular bumper-packs of wet-wipes and hand sanitiser, or tins and tins of tinned fruit and yoghurt and other things to put in her tube feeds. The carpets are exponentially cleaner because she is not tracking half the countryside in on the wheels of the wheelchair. Our washing machine use has halved.

I cannot watch TV programs with bereavements, or ones with young children who giggle when their parents boop their nose. Watching, I get a physical pressure in my chest, a stone sitting on my heart and I cannot bear it.

My daughter is dead, and nothing will ever be the same again. I feel guilt, that perhaps I didn’t do enough. I constantly feel I’ve forgotten something; that ‘Oh shit I left the baby at the Post Office!’ feeling. But there is no baby now and the Post Office has been permanently closed.

A part of me is relieved. Relieved for her, that she no longer has to struggle. But also selfishly relieved for myself that I no longer have to write emails and make phonecalls and fight and fight for her care and her health and her education. I am tired. We are both so tired. If you’ve never cared for anyone long-term, you have no idea how tired you can be.

For the first month, we both just wandered around in a daze. We had nightmares, we had insomnia, we slept at odd times. Now, at the end of the second month we are sleeping better. I am dragging myself out of bed each morning instead of staying in my pyjamas all day. We are trying to keep occupied. If I’m not occupied, I seem to go into a fugue state where all I do is stare at the wall and feel the enormous weight of my grief, like a horsehair blanket thrown over me, muffling everything in the world.

Writing has been impossible for the last twelve months. I am starting, very slowly, to feel neurons come back online though. Memories I had lost pop up regularly now I have all that extra processing power freed up and can sleep for eight hours a night. I am hoping I might be able to begin to write again soon, but I’m not going to push myself. For once in my life I am going to take the time that I need. That’s why I am writing this instead of the Dark Romance topic. Next month, I hope I can join in with the team and get back on track.

For their thoughts on Dark Romance, check out their blogs:

To read what my Read Around the Rainbow colleagues have written about Dark Romance, click through below!

Nell Iris : Ofelia Grand : Lillian Francis : Fiona Glass : Amy Spector : Ellie Thomas : Holly Day : K. L. Noone : Addison Albright

Gallbladder Summer followed by Children’s Respiratory Illness Autumn

Nenna, smiling in her new pyjamas with pineapples on them.

If you follow me on social media at all, you’ll know that Littlest has been in hospital for a couple of weeks now. She went in with a respiratory infection that necessitated us flying back from our holiday/respite break and she’s having trouble throwing it off. She’s been in and out of the local ICU, swapping between there and the children’s ward HDU. There isn’t a dedicated PICU locally and we are waiting for a bed in the children’s hospital in Bristol. They are snowed however, because the Children’s Respiratory Illness Season ™ has come early this year.

She doesn’t currently need non-invasive ventilation and is on nasal oxygen of either the high-flow or low-flow kind; IV antibiotics; and having a lot of chest physio and suction. Her SATS keep swinging up and down and she is getting very tired. Last week we had a very difficult conversation with her doctors about the pros and cons of invasive ventilation. It needed to be had, but it was emotionally gruesome.

I’m updating every couple of days on tiktok, more for myself than anyone else really–it feels good to talk about it a bit, it releases some of the pressure inside me. She’s a strong-minded little girl–not so little now at fourteen–and we are hopeful she will throw this off. But also, we have been living with the knowledge that she is life-limited since we were first referred to the children’s hospice when she was four.

Every time she is poorly like this, her overall health and wellbeing steps down. Even if she throws it off, it’s probable she won’t ever regain the strength she had before. One of the reasons Bristol want her there is so they can assess her for overnight non-invasive ventilation when she is well enough to come home.

I am swinging between bursts of activity on social media and managing to write as displacement, to not being able to do anything. My own health still isn’t back to normal after my Gallbladder Summer and I’m having to pace myself. Consequently Mr AL is spending most of the time in hospital with Littlest–because of her communication issues and special needs she needs someone who knows here there pretty much all the time. I’m trying to do a few hours in the morning and early afternoon and he’s doing the late afternoon and evening; and when we don’t have help from one of her lovely carers, the night as well. No-one needs me overdoing it and having a seizure on the ward, although they’ve been very nice when I have.

Talking Child is bottling it all up, as are we all I suppose. Every so often they have a meltdown, completely understandably. We are taking it in turns.

That’s the news, anyway. If you’d like to contribute to a crowdfunder to help with additional carer costs and for hospital food when we don’t have enough spoons to take sandwiches and a thermos, I have set one up here. Alternatively if you’d like to support us by buying one of my books, you can find them here. Any help is very gratefully received <3.

#AMA: The Nix List

This week’s question is another by Anabela (who gave me a wheelbarrow-load of really good ones!) Do you have subjects you think you could never write about?

Yes! Definitely! Is the short answer—I should think everyone does. And I should think everyone’s answer is very different and probably changes with time.

The first one that jumps to mind though is children. I’ve always been very disinclined to write about characters with children. Mine are in their early teens now and I was first published in 2017 when they were…thinks very hard…nine and ten. The absolutely last thing I wanted to do was revisit that in fiction. Likewise now, I can’t see myself writing in the parental romance genre any time soon. I had a rubbish time when they were tiny babies and it’s simply not something I want to explore, whether it would be a story that sells or not. I’m utterly baffled by epilogues in romance that show characters having children. I read them and they leave me cold, they’re not my thing at all. So I can’t ever envisage me writing one.

Having said that I do have a character in the Theatr Fach world who has a child; but that’s accidental—I wrote them as a side character in Out of Focus and threw in a kid they had to pick up from school as an excuse to leave Alex alone at the hospital; and I’d quite like to explore them further, so ta-da, they’re a parent. But generally speaking…writing about characters with children is a nix.

Also a nix is mpreg. Does that come under the ‘people with children’ caveat? It probably does, but it should also be a category on its own. I just…can’t. I think it might be my own dysphoria that makes me so revolted by it. Let me emphasise people should absolutely read and write what they want, this is my own personal reaction, not a judgment. I think, actually, giving it more thought whilst writing this, it’s not just mpreg, it’s an entire pregnancy thing. So let’s expand the nix to cover pregnancy. I cannot envisage ever writing a pregnant character. Even writing this paragraph has made me shudder. I did not enjoy being pregnant—I loathed it, every single minute of it. I had the two children very close together—sort of by design as I was nearly forty by the time the first one came along—but so close together that at one point I was pregnant and had post-natal depression. When Littlest was born, my lovely obstetrician wrote me a letter of congratulation expressing the wish never to see me in her clinic again. So a nix to pregnancy completely, please!

I don’t think there’s anything else I am conscious of definitely not wanting to write about. I’ve written about death and violence and assault, all sort of horrible things. I do find writing about sexytimes quite difficult sometimes. I don’t think that’s an inherent disinclination though, more that sex is inherently messy and funny and stupid and I find it hard to do right without slipping in to cliché. I’m always worried that readers will come across a sex-scene and it’ll throw them out of the story because I’ve done sexing in a way that no-one else will find acceptable/interesting/arousing/relevant to the narrative.

I’m sure there are other things and I don’t know it, simply because I haven’t come across them yet or I’ve buried them so deeply I don’t have a clue they’re there!

I’m really enjoying these posts…if you have an #AskMeAnything question, do drop me an email or pop in to Lester Towers to ask.

Introducing Read Around the Rainbow

Read Around the Rainbow, Writers and bloggers of LGBTQIA+ romance

So, here’s our New Thing! My Office Writing Buddies ™, Nell Iris and Ofelia Grand and I all run blogs and we like to drop in to each other’s places and make things collaborative. So we have set up a little group of like-minded people who write similar stories and we are all going to pick a topic once a month and write about it.

I have [please insert your drumroll here] set up a webring. Webrings are an ancient and venerable part of the internet and some of you might not even know what they are. My memories of them from the glorious nineties and noughties are…variable. There weren’t many easy options to find like-minded people on the world wide interweb, so bloggers and website hosts with similar interests got together in groups and directed one-another to our sites. You signed up, stuck a bit of code on your webpage that produced something like this and off you went:

Read around the RainbowVisit the rest of The Rainbow bloggers!

Previous Random Next

(Purely in hopes of admiration, I need to say at this point that I forked a repository on Github to make this happen—I regularly say my coding days are over and they definitely are, I found it tortuous!)

The result of all this is that a handful of us are going to pick a topic, write about it on the last Friday of the month and link to each other’s posts. Because we are all high-stress people, the plan is to be very easy going and not put pressure on ourselves…if we don’t fancy a topic one month, we just don’t do it.

Our first posts will be going up on the Friday 25th of March, so do keep an eye out! We hope to see you around!

Ofelia Gränd/Holly Day :: Nell Iris :: A.L. Lester :: Lillian Francis :: Fiona Glass :: Amy Spector :: K.L. Noone :: Ellie Thomas

New year, new stories

I’m not usually the sort of person who celebrates New Year’s Eve and this year it was a bit peculiar anyway, because Mr AL spent it in a hotel near the airport so he could collect Talking Child from her Big American Adventure. I had an early night and woke up to find TC’s flight had landed and they were on their way home. It was the best New Year’s present I could have had, really.

This is the first morning I’ve got up to write in the office for a couple of weeks—I had a horrible cold in the week before Christmas and it knocked me completely off track. I have been having serious problems with the third Bradfield book that my editor and I finally tracked down to the fact I don’t actually like my main character; which is a bit of an issue. I have decided to put it on the backburner for a bit and try and reframe her in my mind whilst I write something else in the interim; but I’m still not sure what.

This year I have in my mind that I am not going to write any series. It’s going to be the year of the stand-alone story. And I want to write something new. I’ve been dealing with monsters and the border and all that for six years now and whilst I love my magical world it’s time to try something different, even if I come back to it in a while. That’s why I wanted to write Bradfield #3 early this year and be able to draw a line under it for a bit.

I want to write the companion novel to The Flowers of Time and expand the mm romance between Edie’s brother Hugh and his friend Carruthers. That involves immersing myself in the 1780s again and is something I’ve been looking forward to for a while. And I have another idea I’m calling Space Gays that I haven’t fleshed out yet…I thought it might be a trilogy though, so that’s a no-no for a while under my current rules!

In my half-started folder I have a post-pandemic dystopia I began well before covid hit. I really want to finish it; but since covid I haven’t been able to even look at it…too close to home. I thought I might try and finish it; but I have serious doubts about anyone wanting to read that sort of thing at the moment. Last week’s newsletter poll more or less confirmed that! And I want to write some more Celtic myths. I’m really enjoying them and people seem to like reading them. They’re very satisfying to write.

In among all these ideas, JMS Books has some interesting submission calls this year; particularly one for time-travel romances. I am now wondering about that…but time. I need a way to fold time.

So. That’s my vague writing plans for the new year. I also have more audiobooks on the backburner—I have a lovely person lined up for The Fog of War and I’d like Callum to voice The Quid Pro Quo for me if he’s available.

I do have a spreadsheet that I’m putting things in to so I don’t overwhelm myself; which is basically what happened toward the end of last year. I tend to fill my coping mechanism up to the top and then when something unexpected happens there’s no room and everything overflows. Leaving myself some headroom is definitely a better strategy.

Among all that we have been shielding Littlest again against Omicron. She’s had two jabs and hopefully clinically vulnerable children in the UK will be able to have a third soon, which will put my mind at rest.

I wish you all the very best for 2022. Let’s hope it’s a bit less stressful than the last couple of years.