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I've been working on a submission for This Patchwork Flesh. So far (a), it's very weird, (b) enough that I worry if it can break 2000 words without losing coherence entirely, and (c) I keep worrying that I'm not placing enough emphasis on the protagonist's orientation, except in kind of a reverse way:
A friend wants to know if you’re unable to grieve because of internalized homophobia. You remind them that they’re not actually a psychiatrist, and that you’re not their patient. They ask you if you’ve read Sontag’s Illness As Metaphor.
You can see it from her point of view, of course. You’re gay, and widowed, and probably a bunch of other undiagnosed things, and it would be one hell of a coincidence for you to be haunted as well.
(That's from early on, before the story starts to lose coherence. At least I've cut the gratuitous Surrealist shout-out.)
A friend wants to know if you’re unable to grieve because of internalized homophobia. You remind them that they’re not actually a psychiatrist, and that you’re not their patient. They ask you if you’ve read Sontag’s Illness As Metaphor.
You can see it from her point of view, of course. You’re gay, and widowed, and probably a bunch of other undiagnosed things, and it would be one hell of a coincidence for you to be haunted as well.
(That's from early on, before the story starts to lose coherence. At least I've cut the gratuitous Surrealist shout-out.)
