(Not) Engaging with Disability: Convenient Approaches in SFF. In speculative fiction, by the very definition of the genre, you’re dealing with magic, technology, or other elements that aren’t present in our world. This opens up tons of story possibilities for authors. It can also close off opportunities. For example, if you want to include disabled characters without using magic workarounds, it’s occasionally difficult to realistically integrate them into your world. After all, if your characters are incredibly skilled magicians, is it realistic that they wouldn’t try to minimize or heal their disability?
If you’re working with warp portals and faster-than-light travel, wouldn’t that world also have prostheses that are nigh indistinguishable from natural limbs, and far more effective medications around the board? Magic and technology will absolutely mean different approaches to disability, ranging from hyper-advanced tools to creative uses of magic to medical/magical cures. We want to acknowledge and integrate this reality into the narrative. Navigating Criticism and Discussions of Disability Representation. For authors just learning about disability representation, it can be intimidating to watch the conversations taking place: from articles on websites like Disability in Kidlit, to disappointed reviews, to disabled people on Twitter talking scathingly among themselves.
When you’re genuinely trying to learn, it can be terrifying to see how much writers appear to be doing wrong, and all the impossibly nuanced rules of what does and doesn’t seem to be okay. It may even feel like people are setting up arbitrary hurdles to jump, and will lash out at the smallest mistake despite what else the book may do right, and despite how sincerely the author wants to do right. There are plenty of articles out there about why you should try writing disabled (and otherwise marginalized) characters despite the risk of criticism. Representation matters. That does not make it easy, however. In fact, it’s damn hard, and that’s what I want to talk about in this article.
Consider my own situation. And honestly? The Trope of Curing Disability. Growing up, one of my favorite classic children’s book was Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden. One of my favorites, I think, for two reasons. One, an ancient house on the moors and a secret walled garden? WANT. Two, a bed-ridden, disabled boy. As a mostly bed-ridden, disabled girl, I—surprisingly—identified with Colin more than with most able-bodied characters in most books (which, up until that point, formed about 99,99% of what I read, because frankly, it was and is surprisingly hard to find disabled characters). Sure, he was angry and unlikeable and pitiable, but at the very least he wasn’t the villain.
Progress, right? That feeling of identification lasted right up until the point where he got out of his wheelchair and threw off his disability. Now in Colin’s case, it might be argued that he was never disabled at all, just weakened and made ill, but to me, it felt like a betrayal. And quite frankly, that trope needs to GTFO. Does that mean no one wants to be cured? Contes des ères abyssales. Voici donc la seconde partie de l’article de Thomas.La première partie se trouve par ici. Toujours dire oui Le creux de créer par réaction, c'est de toujours répondre aux joueuses. Éviter de laisser une action sans réaction. Et si possible, toujours répondre oui. Quitte à nuancer par un “oui mais…”, un “oui et…” ou un “non mais…” - La porte est-elle fermée ?
On peut utiliser une table de réponse, inspirée du système FU, avec 1d6 : Non etNonNon maisOui maisOuiOui et Pour aller plus loin :Louis Bar, Etienne Bar, Pierre Gavard-Colenny, Nathan Russell : FU Créer par réaction et toujours dire oui, c'est cultiver un jeu où on se contente de répondre aux joueuses. La parcimonie Quand on improvise, nul besoin d'apporter de nouveaux éléments en permanence. Hormis si la partie se base sur un feu roulant d'adversité, de dilemmes moraux ou une mitraillage esthétique, cette méthode est fatigante et risque de rendre l'aventure indigeste.
Faire des pauses Ces pauses involontaires brisent le quatrième mur. Limbic Systems | Jeux de rôle indépendants. Outsider | Générateur d'énergie créative. Folklores artisanaux. Par Thomas Munier. Écrire sur un personnage LGBT : l'orientation sexuelle – Mademoiselle Cordélia. Les archétypes de héros de roman – Mademoiselle Cordélia. Les stéréotypes de personnages féminins – Mademoiselle Cordélia.