[Stylist] Opinion Piece Quite Informative by a Blind Author

[David Russell]

Hello Writers,

I am copying and pasting an opinion piece that is shared sort of
second-hand from a Facebook group to which I belong that is in
Tuesday's Huffington Post. I could not fully access the lone article
itself and this one has ads you may have to skim over. Nonetheless,
Laurie Alice Eakes, blind author, has some interesting but very real
observations about the writing world as it is today, especially for
blind authors. Be encouraged.

OPINION
Yes, Blind People Read Books. We Write Them, Too.
Laurie Alice Eakes
, Guest Writer
09/17/2018 05:45 AM ET




A close-up shot of a woman's hands as she types on a laptop keyboard.
A close-up shot of a woman's hands as she types on a laptop keyboard.
(serg3d via Getty Images)
“Windy, let’s get some coffee,” I suggested, in need of an iced latte.
My Seeing Eye Dog swerved right, tension through the harness
increasing as she skirted a corral of outdoor tables. She knew exactly
where she was going, eager for the praise and pats she’d receive when
we reached the door.
Knowing to head for my favorite coffee shop just because I suggested
it is not part of Windy’s training, and if anyone had heard me, a
common misconception would’ve been satisfied. “My daughter is going
blind, but she doesn’t need a dog, because she already knows her way
around,” an elderly woman told me on the bus earlier that morning.
“The dog doesn’t know the way around,” I politely responded. “I give
her directions. It’s her job to get me to my destination safely.”
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The woman’s vague “uh-huh” told me she didn’t believe me.
No matter how many people we inform, many still believe blind people
are clueless about their directions, their surroundings and anything
else requiring sight ― which, to the sighted world, is just about
everything. Plenty others also seem to forget that blind people
communicate and consume media as would any other hearing person. We
use expressions like “see,” “watched” and “looked at” all the time
(they’ve taken on the meaning of “absorbed” and “observed”). We have
cable TV. We go to movies and subscribe to Netflix and Hulu. We have
favorite shows.
And we read books.
Two hundred years ago, when books were rare and expensive, people read
to one another in a group and, afterward, all claimed to have “read”
the book. An audiobook is no different. Many blind people also read
Braille books. Some of us read via our Kindle apps on our iPhones,
which have Voiceover to make them accessible if a person can’t see.



Blind people write books, too. I have 27 traditionally published books
to my name and more coming out. Many of them are historical novels
that I researched via more books ― scanned books, recorded books,
digitized books.
Reading and writing books is no more difficult for a blind person than
for a person who can see. It’s the publishing part that’s not so easy.
The first agent who offered to represent me stopped sending out my
work to editors when she learned I was blind. Other editors wouldn’t
work with me, daring to tell my agent it was because of my blindness.
One went so far as to think she should rewrite my book for me and I
should accept it because of my “visual problems.”
And my favorite incident—the one time I dared write a realistic blind
heroine who wasn’t all sunshine and light about her condition or how
people treated her ― the editor told my agent a blind woman wouldn’t
fear being a parent because she, the editor, had seen otherwise in the
media.
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Seriously?
“Reading and writing books is no more difficult for a blind person
than for a person who can see. It’s the publishing part that’s not so
easy.
Though I have to admit, she had a point. The media depicts blind
people as super-spiritual beings. Books ― and their authors ― rarely
make their blind characters angry with the world for being ignorant.
Nor do they give their blind heroine a drop-dead gorgeous man to
romance. On the contrary, she generally falls for the ugly dude whom
others shun despite his goodness, which only she sees.
Historically, blind characters are never shunted into dark corners,
hidden away in institutions or left uneducated because the world
believed blindness meant one wasn’t capable of learning. Blind people
are supposed to be like John Milton and Fanny Crosby, writing
beautiful poetry and hymns designed to inspire. Readers follow blind
characters who are blithely living their lives despite their
condition, gaining insights others don’t have, to remind them just how
well off they are. I may be worried about making rent, but it’s
nothing compared to being blind. What an inspiration this protagonist,
and this author, is.
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Frankly, I’d rather be told I’m snarky. That, at least, would make me human.
I confess I too once fell into the trap of writing a happy-go-lucky
character with a disability. I wanted to write a blind hero who lived
in the 1890s because of a tidbit of history I’d read while researching
other books. Of course, I made sure the character had a ton of money
and was content with his lot. That suited the plot much better than
the realism of blind people dependent on the government or others for
support.
Because many are. According to the U.S. Department of Labor’s Bureau
of Labor Statistics, an alarming 75 percent of blind or visually
disabled people are not part of our country’s labor force. My husband,
a blind attorney, and I, a blind author, are incredibly blessed to
have jobs and a house of our own in a fantastic location, but we are
the exception.
Even when gainfully employed, the industries we work in can make our
jobs unnecessarily challenging. I’ve seen some encouraging signs
recently that change is coming to the publishing industry (including
making trade association websites more accessible to blind users and
ensuring physical barriers to conferences and workshops are removed),
but general attitudes have remained stagnant. Agents and editors with
whom I’ve worked in the past have made me paranoid about “coming out”
regarding my blindness or attending writing conferences. Once, the
marketing person for one of my publishers introduced herself to
everyone at the book signing except for me. She skipped right over me,
as though I were invisible. Like I was wearing my own invisibility
cloak.
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“Agents and editors with whom I’ve worked in the past have made me
paranoid about 'coming out' regarding my blindness or attending
writing conferences.
That cloak doesn’t extend to my wonderful Windy; at a recent writers’
conference, more people talked to my dog than to me. Most people know
not to touch service dogs, but they don’t realize they shouldn’t talk
to them, either. If Windy gets distracted, she gets corrected, and
that’s not fair to her (but is necessary to keep her focused on her
work). When I asked attendees not to talk to my dog, I was either
ignored or treated as though I was in the wrong.
During the Jane Austen era, one could ruin someone’s social career by
employing the “cut direct,” in which one acknowledged the person with
a look, then turned away, thereby erasing them.
That’s how I feel sometimes ― erased. No one cared that I was wearing
a pin that said I’d been a finalist for the highest award in the
romance genre, the RITA. No one cared I was wearing my “25 books
published” pin (next pin is 35). No one cared I was presenting at a
workshop that week or that, just maybe, we had more than just writing
and books in common. Instead, they talked to the dog, because
apparently a creature with a brain the size of a walnut is more
intelligent than a woman with a master’s degree who can’t see.
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I currently have both an amazing agent and an incredible editor. They
are supportive and understanding that sometimes certain software and
social media platforms don’t always work for me. They knew I was blind
before taking me on and liked my writing well enough not to care.
The publishing industry needs more agents and editors like them, but
true change will require more than just that. As of 2015, only 8
percent of industry professionals had a disability. We need people
with disabilities at all stages of the publishing process, including
authors, agents, editors, sensitivity readers, marketers and
publicists.
I look forward to the day when I attend a writers’ conference and
people talk to me instead of my dog. In the meantime, you can find me
working on book No. 28.
Laurie Alice Eakes is the bestselling author of more than 25 books,
both historical and contemporary romantic suspense. She writes full
time from her home in northern Illinois.

David Russell