Kia ora koutou,
Thank you so much to everyone who attended, promoted, hosted and took part in the I’m disabled, of course I’m a villain! readings at this year’s Verb Wellington LitCrawl.
We did it!
Despite my abject terror (I’m in comms – I’m used to being the person behind the person speaking) it went better than I could have imagined.
The audience was much bigger than we expected – apparently, at that point in proceedings, we had the second biggest LitCrawl turn out next to Bad Diaries (an awesome regular) - which was pretty great for something relatively niche.
This of course made it even scarier, but everyone was amazing, and so supportive - and it helped that I was joined by some super talented folk.
Villainous role call:
Andi C. Buchanan, Rem Wigmore, Casey Lucas, Me, Erin Donohue, Alice Mander
Huge thanks to Andi C. Buchanan for herding us author-cats, to Verb Wellington for taking a punt on us, to our New Zealand Sign Language interpreters (loved learning NZSL for ‘vampire), to the folk at Te Auaha for being such amazing hosts and to Unity Books Wellington for selling our work at the event (if you live in Wellington, you should pop in and see if there’s anything left!)
The script:
As promised, for those of you who were unable to attend, here’s the text for my monologue. I also had a go at recording myself reading it. I think I sound like a goober, but if your eyes are a bit rubbish like mine, it might be nicer to hear a human read it than an automated voice.
I wear a mask – of course I’m a villain
It is I, the masked villain! I wear a mask to hide my true self – which of course is terribly, awfully, evilly, evil.
I am the Phantom, I am the Dread Pirate Roberts, (Darth Vader voice) I am your father– RIP James Earl Jones.
I wear a mask because my face looks different from yours. It could be because of ‘the Incident’ or the misfortune of being born this way. Either way I am bitter because I am not like you and, of course, this has made me evil.
I wear a mask over my eyes, or my whole face, so you can’t read my evil intentions – though I tend to reveal them in painful detail instead of just getting on and killing the hero, so I’m not really sure how effective that is…
I wear a mask over my mouth and nose. I say it’s because I am immunocompromised, or just because I don’t want to catch your greeblies – but we all know the truth. It’s really so you can’t see the fluorescent, 5G, protein-spike rays, shining out from between my teeth. I mean it’s obvious really, how can you trust someone when you can’t see their face?
I am Anna the writer – I am autistic and have ADHD. I wear a mask that is made up of humour, confidence, and capability (unless someone asks me directions or where I put my phone down last).
I can make you laugh while describing people being brutally murdered by sentient statues – of course I am evil.
I’m sort of not joking about that last one. I mean I’m not plotting your imminent demise right now (or am I?...) But I have masked so hard and for so long, that I am not really sure who I am underneath.
At 43, I have only very recently been diagnosed, and I am still learning about the concept of masking. For those who are also new to this all – it is something neuro-divergent people learn to do from a very young age when we discover we are different from our peers, and that being different isn’t always safe.
It happens when we discover we are too much, or not enough. So, to avoid being bullied, or excluded, we watch what others do and copy that. We learn to put a mask over our differences and our intensity so we don’t make other people feel uncomfortable, so we can fit in.
For me the best way to do this was also something that comes naturally – making people laugh. If not at me, then something silly I created, or something bizarre I am wearing. Deflect, deflect, deflect…
After 43 years of doing this, the mask and I have merged. I’m now in the process of working out what is mask and what is me. It’s liberating and terrifying. I rattle around in my head wondering what it means that I can’t really tell. Sometimes I lay awake at night wondering ‘am I the baddie?’
One thing I am slowly learning is that knowing about the mask doesn’t actually mean I have to chuck it all in the bin. I love my humour-armour. It has protected me throughout my life – it’s my ride or die. I also genuinely love making people smile. The thought that something silly I said or wrote made someone happy, even briefly, in this grim-arsed world is a dopamine boost like no other.
The mask has been my protector. It has given me the confidence to allow myself to do the things I know I am capable of. It has helped me get, and do well at, jobs and given me the strength to put myself out there and publish books.
If it wasn’t for good old Masky McMaskface, I certainly wouldn’t be standing in front of you all right now.
Learning how to build the mask, unconsciously over the years, has given me a deeper understanding of people. I study them to work out the best way to connect. I don’t see this as faking, but rather taking the time to understand how people work, because my brain doesn’t operate quite the same way as theirs. It helps me relate to people on lots of different levels and was an absolute asset during my career as a journalist.
These experiences, and how I have learned to handle them, are part of who I am now. They’re my Peopling 101 toolkit. Mask on or off, they are me - and I genuinely don’t think that is a bad thing.
It’s only when I lean on the humour mask at the expense of actually dealing with the hard things in life that it becomes a problem. I think this part of the mask is so ingrained in me now that training it, and taming it, is the only way to go.
There’s a dark world inside me too – that’s what I channel into writing horror. But it’s a horror that’s tempered with humour and wholesomeness. (Captain Planet voice) With my masking powers combined I can recreate this grim-arsed world in a safe way that we can laugh at.
If the mask didn’t exist, I don’t think my writing would either.
I’m an 80s baby – I grew up with The Never-ending Story (from film, to book, to first tattoo), the Goonies, ET – kids saving the world on bikes or growing up to be the ‘chosen one’. You had two choices, be the hero of your own story, or the villain. As an adult it can be hard to learn that you probably aren’t either.
As an elder Millennial trying to work out who I am under decades of mask however, this revelation is weirdly reassuring. If I’m not the hero, then perhaps I’m not the villain either. Maybe what’s under here is just… me. Just a person muddling through this world trying to keep themselves and those close to them safe. Maybe I’m just a little human, doing the best I can with who I am – and maybe that’s okay.
Either way, I’m starting to look forward to the adventure of working that out.
(takes mask off)
Thank you for helping.
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