I know I promised to get back to talking about writing stuff instead of autism stuff, but, well, plans change. (Sorry.)

Earlier today, the lovely Beth Cato linked to this article on Twitter–Autism Awareness is Not Enough: Here’s How to Change the World–and I loved it so much I had to post about it. This will be my new go-to article when explaining the autistic rights movement and neurodiversity to people.

If you’re interested in autism at all, I highly recommend taking the time to read the full thing. After an important introduction, fifteen people with close connections to autism–self-advocates, parents, teachers, and combinations thereof–are asked to share five thoughts on how to make the world more inclusive to people with autism. I don’t agree with every viewpoint, but I do agree with the vast majority–and the viewpoints I don’t agree with are still important enough that people should read and consider them to understand where people are coming from.

Since it’s such a long read, and because so many points made me want to jump up and cheer, I made a selection of my favorite quotes–one for each of the people interviewed.

(I also added my own ‘advice’ at the end.)

Lydia Brown:

Accept us. Autism is a part of who we are. As sure as skin color or sexual orientation, we cannot change being Autistic. Acceptance starts by understanding that we are not broken, defective, or diseased. We do not need to be fixed or cured. There is nothing wrong with us. Yes, autism is a disability, and yes, some Autistic people are very severely disabled. Accepting our autism does not mean ignoring or denying disability; it means accepting us for who we are, as we are.

Continue reading “Autistic Perspectives” »

Usually, I just rant on Autism Awareness Day. This time, I figured I’d chill out and actually talk about my experiences with autism and why awareness is important to me.

I do have to get my annual Autism Awareness Day requests out of the way first, though:

• Please do not donate to Autism Speaks. The vast majority of their income goes to research so they can eradicate autism, instead of supporting existing autistic people; they use incorrect statistics; they create advertisements that paint autistic people as monsters and burdens; they fearmonger, they lie, and for an organization that calls itself Autism Speaks, they don’t seem to care one whit of what actual autistic people have to say, given that they have no autistic individuals on their board.
• Instead, if you feel the need to donate, please consider ASAN–the Autistic Self Advocacy Network. Nothing About Us Without Us.
• Many blog posts today will spread misinformation, make gross simplifications, be condescending, and generally ignore autistic individuals in favor of talking about their non-autistic family. Please avoid playing into this trend.
• (Also avoid using the puzzle piece symbol, if you could.)
• If you want to learn more about autism, please try to get this information from autistic people, and not solely from families or organizations. We should not be shut out of these discussions.

Okay.

The below is very personal, and not always cheerful. If that makes you uncomfortable, you probably want to look away. I promise you, we’ll go right back to our regular writing-related ramblings later this week.

Looking at me, people would not peg me as autistic. I stim–usually by rocking back and forth or tapping my foot–but not outrageously so. I can communicate clearly and effectively. I am social, excitable, and have no problems recognizing expressions or moods. Although I’m sensitive to sound and touch, I’m unlikely to have extreme reactions.

(Well, I once kicked my grandmother when she tickled me without warning. Sorry, Grandma.)

All of that means that I’m privileged. Complete strangers won’t look at me with pity or condescension. People will never call me a retard. I’m capable of taking care of myself, and I can manage friendships and relationships.

So why is autism awareness important to me?

Because without awareness–the good kind of awareness, not the trendy kind that focuses on little kids only–people don’t believe that I’m autistic. Family, classmates, teachers, co-workers, government officials, my own doctor. When people hear about the problems I do have, they’ll disregard them, because, hey, look at me! I’m young. I’m normal. Clearly I’m in that group of kids who were misdiagnosed as autistic, and now I’m taking full advantage of it. I’m doing this for attention!

I’m… not doing this for attention.

This is how autism has affected my life: I had my first suicidal thoughts at eight, and had to drop out of high school at fourteen because school–with so many people and classes and demands and responsibilities–meant that I could no longer walk down a street without wanting to throw myself in the path of an oncoming car.

I’m no longer suicidal or even depressed. I like my life. I like myself. I’ve improved by leaps and bounds. I even dig my autism, because for all the bad things it’s caused, it’s done a lot of good things, too. Above all, it’s part of me.

But: I’m on disability benefits, because even working one or two afternoons a week caused so much stress that I struggled to get anything done around the house. I’ve never been able to eat normally, and will gag uncontrollably when made to eat food I can’t handle. I’ve consciously had to train my social skills; I was very proud when I finally learned to say ‘Have a good night!’ to people. (Unfortunately, I blurted it out during mornings and afternoons as well.)

I can talk about how I prefer certain shapes of forks or how I can’t handle certain sounds or how I still can’t make eye contact or how when I get stressed sometimes I’ll slap myself in the back of the neck, but what it comes down to is this: That I’m doing well doesn’t mean I’m any less autistic. Put me back in school, give me a job, force me to eat a normal meal, put me in a situation I can’t deal with, and I’ll go right back to freaking out because I never built up a script to deal with those situations.

Like I said–I generally like my life. I don’t want pity. What I do want is understanding, and that’s why awareness–the good kind–matters. I have learned to adapt to the rest of the world so much, and if there’s things left that I can’t do… please take my word for it. Please don’t think I’m taking it easy on myself. Please don’t laugh in my face and go, “Oh, please, like you’re autistic!” Please don’t tell me a positive attitude is all I need to hold down a job.

It’s not encouraging. It’s not a compliment. And it’s not true.

I am at peace with my limitations, and I wish more other people could be, too.

Thank you for reading this.

I know I’m not alone in fearing April Fools. I’m one of those really gullible people who doesn’t much like being pranked, so today is a minefield. I trust no one. No one.

I’ve got my eyes on you.

Even worse, right after April 1st comes… April 2nd. (Shocker, I know). And April 2nd is Autism Awareness Day.

Warning: SOAPBOXING AHEAD.

And I know people mean well. I do. But I’ve been dreading this day for weeks. Last year, I had to cringe my way through Twitter and Google Reader. This day seems to be aimed primarily at the clueless, and it feels odd to experience a day that’s about me, but not by me and apparently not for me, either. I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen people talk about the families and caretakers of people with autism while completely forgetting that the actual people with autism should also be taken into account.

Basically… good intentions mean very little when the end result is still hurtful, patronising, or just plain offensive.

So I’ve got two basic requests for anyone who wants to post about Autism Awareness Day:

1. If you don’t know a lot about autism — or even if you do! — please tread very carefully. I know awareness is important, and I know people just want to help, but please realize that many topics aren’t black-and-white within the autism community as they seem to be outside of it. Things like cures, early detection, high-functioning/low-functioning, autism-as-disease, vaccines as even a possible cause of autism, the increasing prevalence, teaching kids to appear/act normal… All of these are controversial and hotly debated within the autism community, and it’s super weird — and rather off-putting — to see total outsiders bring up/take sides on these topics without even realizing there might be another side to them.

   Keep in mind that people with autism also browse the web (hi, that’d be me!) and might also read your posts. The overwhelming majority of posts on Autism Awareness Day make me feel like an object of pity, like a problem to be solved, like people don’t even consider that I might be reading their post, or like people like me — ie. autistic adults — don’t even exist. Is that how you want to make the people you’re trying to help feel?

2. Do not ask people to donate to Autism Speaks. Do not use stats from Autism Speaks. Do not mention Autism Speaks in any positive way.

   I know this seems glib, but I’m serious. I could go into the reasons for this, but… well, I don’t really want to clog up this blog with my rants. If you’re really interested, shoot me an e-mail. (Or simply Google “autism speaks controversy”. There are many, many pages to leaf through. Focus on posts by autistic people.)

… and I’ve also got two basic requests for anyone who wants to Do Good on Autism Awareness Day without actually posting about it:

1. Seek out blog posts by autistic people. Remember who this day is supposed to be about. An outside perspective is often a skewed perspective. I absolutely value the opinions and experiences of those living with autistic people — but in media these days, those voices overpower the voices of those autistic people themselves. We are being shut out of our own conversations. That’s not how it should be.
2. If you want to donate to an organization — kudos to you! — try hunting down self-advocacy groups. Many autism organizations (like The One That Must Not Be Named a.k.a. The One I Named Earlier In This Post) don’t have a single person with autism on the board. That seems a little iffy, don’t you think?

Autism has been getting a lot of attention these past years, and the side effects of that are that people are more keen on helping out than ever, which I appreciate — but it also means that people are more clueless than ever due to the rampant misinformation and the prevalence of non-autistic voices in this discussion.

So what I’m asking is this: Do your research. Talk to autistic people in your vicinity or online. That way, if you want to help, you’ll be able to do it so much better. I’m all for awareness, but it needs to be the right kind.

I know this is short notice, but if anyone has a post prepared for tomorrow, I’d be happy to take a look, share my thoughts good and bad, and explain anything you might be confused about — even if I don’t have the faintest idea who you are. Just e-mail me and I’ll get back to you as fast as I can — definitely on time for you to post it tomorrow. Just be aware that I won’t hold back; only send it in if you genuinely want my thoughts.

Man, that title is bringing me back to my high school Latin days. And not in a good way. *shudder*

First off — look! I drew:

Oooh man, it feels nice to be doing art again.

Thinking about yesterday’s post some more, I’ve come to realize a few things. Those small tasks I do during my ‘cooling down’ periods include drawing (see above!), writing/editing/submitting short stories, beta reading novels for friends, designing websites, writing synopses and queries, and doing research and taking notes for future novels. Which basically means that I’m more productive than I give myself credit for… just nowhere near as productive as I feel I should be. I mean, I don’t have a job (I get by on disability benefits), I’m not married, and I have no children (hah!). That means I have scads and scads of free time on my hands. In theory, I should be able to write all day long. When I don’t, well, I look at all the hours wasted and the result is immense frustration.

But that’s overlooking the fact that I’m in on disability benefits for a damn good reason, isn’t it? If it were that easy for me to get work done, I’d be out there, er, doing work.

Anyhow, I also realized that a) I tend to have a far more difficult time getting into projects halfway through (editing, picking up abandoned first drafts, etc.) than starting projects from scratch, and b) I work better with some outside pressure. Organizing myself is hard as hell, but having someone give me a deadline and a job to do? I feel a lot more stressed, but it does tend to get results — and, within limits, the stress is worth it. Nothing feels quite like that sweet bliss of Getting Things Done.

These are all good things to realize. The more I know about myself and how I work, the easier I’ll be able to manipulate myself into productivity. We’re our own worst enemies, right?

I know I’m not supposed to process these kinds of things on a public blog — so long, professionalism! — and I promise I’m not going to make a habit out of it. But I do think it’s important to be at least somewhat open about these kinds of things. If everyone just talks about sunshine and rainbows all the time, we start to think we’re alone when things take a turn downward. And we never, ever are.

Besides: it makes all the sunshine and rainbows even better.

Forgive me, I usually try to keep the snark away from here, but I just finished watching this week’s episode of Criminal Minds and it compelled me to dig up something I wrote some time last year.

Standard disclaimer: I’m not saying all of these things are automatically wrong or never ever happen in real life. I’m just saying they’re really, really, nauseatingly clichéd and I may need to start throwing lawn chairs around if I see them again anytime soon.

Additions welcome.

Corinne’s Rules for Writing Autistic Characters™

• Some of us are female.
• Some of us are over the age of twelve.
• Some of us have actual personalities beyond ‘autistic’.
• Some of us have identities beyond Difficult Witness or Precocious Child.
• Some of us aren’t savants. Boring, I know.
• Some of us will, in fact, know when you’re being condescending and/or talking about us as though we’re not in the same damn room together.
• Some of us have emotions beyond PANIC and BLANK.
• Some of us may even do a freakish thing like hold down a job or have a relationship.
• Some of us can explain our condition ourselves instead of needing throwaway character X to do it for us.
• Some of us will be autistic even when it’s inconvenient to your story.
• Some of us can communicate in ways that don’t include far-fetched puzzles. We might even speak! Using words!
• Some of us will simply cringe instead of scream at the top of our lungs when touched unexpectedly.
• Some of us exist for purposes other than to make your main character look ~*sympathetic*~.
• Some of us will, in fact, refuse to look your main character in the eye or allow a hug even when they’re trying to have a moving scene. Sorry. We’re self-centered jerks like that.
• Some of us could even be main characters ourselves. (Maybe even in a story that’s not about autism. Shhh, don’t tell anyone!)

/PSA

Back to your not-so-regularly-scheduled not-so-snarky blog posts soon.

I don’t talk about it a lot here — though I’ve mentioned it on Twitter a few times — but as a result of my autism and likely ADHD, work is officially A Problem™, and I’m on government benefits as a result. I’m super grateful for this, but we’ve had our problems over the years.

Mainly when the Big Nameless Government Organization took one look at me and saw someone young, bright, and motivated, and figured I could totally work a full-time job given the right environment.

I really wish it worked that way. (It doesn’t — I’ve tried.)

Sadly, they kept pushing.

Long story short — about an hour ago, my job coach* dropped by with the news that he’s found someone within the Big Nameless Government Organization who’s a-okay with me focusing on my writing/art full-time instead of getting a regular job, and they’ll contact me ASAP to hash things out.

It took several years to get to this point. And yeah, it’s a huge relief to finally get them off my back, to not have to worry about it, to have help in figuring out how to set up my art business…

But you know what the weird thing is? What I’m most excited about is that this feels like validation. It’s the government saying, “Yup. You’re an writer. Open up Word and write about teenage girls assaulting depressed Germanic gods with bike pumps, young grasshopper, you’ve got my permission.”

It doesn’t really say anything about me as a writer. Though they asked a million questions to see how serious about my work I was, they’ve never actually read a word of it.

But still.

I kinda feel like a writer now.

* He got an oliebol for his troubles. Thanks, dude!

… and not of the fictional variety.

Warning: This is a me-me-me post, with some existential angst and whining on the side. Skip as desired!

A lot of writers struggle to make time for writing. I know I’m not alone there.Writing comes at the cost of family, friends, work, housekeeping — but it’s worth it, because it’s our passion, right? You have to make sacrifices for your passion.

But what if you have more than one passion? What if finishing a book gives you the same thrill and contentment and joy as finishing a drawing – and after years of trying, you still can’t find a way to balance the two?

That’s the predicament I find myself in now. I love art. I went to school for it. I want to keep doing it for the rest of my life – both because of sentimental and practical reasons: I make more money with a single drawing than I have with all my writing put together.

But for reasons of the neurological variety, I can’t multitask. I already struggle to keep up with housekeeping and a social life in addition to writing. If I’m willing/able to deal with stress, I can add the occasional Extra Activity: actual work, or reading, or art… but not all of those. Not even close. Something’s gotta give.

So I’ve been neglecting art these past few years in order to focus on writing. About once or twice a year I feel inspired to do more, I stock up on art supplies and brainstorm ideas for drawings and maybe even do a sketch or two — and then I feel bad that I’m so behind on my writing, and let the art slide. When I finally get around to dealing with agents and editors and deadlines, imagine how much worse it’ll be? Then I won’t have the opportunity to postpone writing for weeks or months at a time, and that’s the only way I ever get any art done.

Basically, I need to make some sort of decision.

This week, I realized that I pretty much did: in October, I received an invitation to participate in an exposition. The theme was Black & White. Right up my alley. Charcoal rules, y’all.

The deadline to submit was yesterday.

I’m not happy with this decision, such as it is. But I wouldn’t be the other way around, either. When I write, I feel like I should be drawing. When I draw, I feel like I should be writing.

Sometimes, having less ambition would be nice.

Jim Hines recently posted about his son, who has Asperger’s Syndrome, as a response to a comment someone left on his blog. It’s a good post – and you can never go wrong with photos of kids dressing up as Mario, right? Oh, the memories…

Still, I was nervous to venture into the comments. I sometimes struggle to read online discussions on Asperger’s, ablism, and related topics, because I know I’ll be twitching two minutes in. Most people are wonderful, but inevitably, a few things will be brought up.

(These aren’t in reference to Jim’s post specifically; I’ve seen these things a lot over the years, in many different places, and I just wanted to gather my thoughts on why it bothers me so much.)

* Someone is autistic, not stupid/drooling/insane/etc.
Depending on context, this can be pretty insulting towards people who do have certain mental problems. Ablism is always bad, not just when it’s perpetuated against high-functioning people. It’s really not cool to distance oneself from people with the “icky” disabilities.

(Note: If someone is stereotyping Asperger’s and making incorrect assumptions, jumping down their throats is totally cool. But often I see this used as “I have Asperger’s, but I’m not like those people!” Slamming other disabilities = just as ablist as people slamming Asperger’s.)

* But you don’t notice anything!
This is not always the positive thing it’s made out to be; it can be intensely stressful to be pressured into cutting down on stimming and similar ‘noticable’ autistic traits. So what if someone flaps their hands? It’s not inherently negative.

The thing to strive for shouldn’t be acting neurotypical; it should be minimizing difficulties.

* S/he’s very successful!
Again, it depends on context here, but often I’m not entirely sure what’s expected of me when I’m confronted with a story like this. It’s okay to be autistic as long as you can do everything that non-autistic people can? S/he’s a credit to her/his diagnosis? A lot of these ~*inspirational*~ and ~*awe-inspiring*~ stories of these mythical successful autistic folks are kind of creepy.

And here’s the thing: I’m on government benefits. I can’t hold down even a part-time job. I never finished high school. Does that mean someone who does manage to do those things is worth more than I am? That we’re both autistic doesn’t mean our brains work the same way, it doesn’t mean we can handle the same things, it doesn’t mean we had the same opportunities.

(Note: again, I’m OK with this being used in a context to refute stereotypes. If someone says that all people with Asperger’s are jobless losers, it’s totally cool to point out someone with a job who’s very successful at it. It just bothers me when these people are focused on and used as something to strive towards; it’s saying, “Your having Asperger’s is no excuse to be jobless/difficult/whatever,” when, in fact, sometimes it is.)

* Oh, he’s not really autistic – he just self-diagnosed.
A lot of people don’t have the opportunity to get a professional diagnosis, or tried and had incompetent doctors. Are there people who wrongly self-diagnose? Sure. But random strangers on the Internet aren’t the ones who gets to decide that.

Many people who self-diagnose do their research beforehand, the same way psychologists diagnose anything; there isn’t any blood test for this shit. They look at behaviour and thought patterns and that’s it. Given that Random People Online don’t know how much research someone did or didn’t do, they don’t get to claim ‘false’ or ‘true’.

Some realize this, and have taken to interrogating people about their symptoms and how much research they’ve done. Protip: this is none of your business. Stop policing people.

Having a diagnosis can be very validating, but it doesn’t mean that undiagnosed Asperger’s is any less real. And given that people who complain about self-diagnosis often say they’re trying to help the people with “ACTUAL Asperger’s”… please realize the implications of what you’re doing. For every five people you’re right about, there’s one you’re wrong about, and that’s not worth it. An asshat is an asshat. How they identify shouldn’t matter.

In addition, claiming you have Asperger’s isn’t as useful as a lot of people think it is. Even those of us with an official diagnosis often struggle with disbelief and dismissal. People really don’t have as much to gain as is often thought. A lot of the attention gained is negative attention.

* Some Asperger’s idiot –
I will not go into detail here. In short: Fuck you very much.

* Person [X] has some Asperger’s traits –
Autism of any kind does not begin and end at social awkwardness. I’d even say it’s the least noticable of my Asperger traits. What I notice a lot more of is this: Lack of self-discipline. Obsessions. Struggles with certain foods and textures. Inability to handle certain sounds. Stimming. Inability to look people in the eye. Mental exhaustion after social affairs. Difficulty planning ahead. I could go on and on.

Yet, the moment someone on TV is socially awkward and/or particularly interested in a certain topic, they must be autistic.

Honestly, insta-diagnosis by complete strangers bothers me a heck of a lot more than self-diagnosis of any kind.

These are just a few of the things I could think of off-hand. I welcome discussion, but the standard no-asshattery rules apply.

This is going to be one of those self-absorbed posts about feeeelings. Be warned, all ye who enter here.

So, I’m a big proponent of Doing What It Takes To Get Stuff Done. This actually doesn’t turn me into a complete drill sergeant. It does the exact opposite: I try to be relaxed, zen, accept my shortcomings, and not force myself into doing something when my body or brain say it’s wrong.

I know, it’s amazing how I get anything done at all.

The thing is, I’ve got this annoying brain that doesn’t work like most people’s, and when I try to fight against it, bad things tend to happen. The worst time in my life can be traced right back to that. When I started to accept my limits, life got better. I got things done, and actually felt like a human being in the process. Score!

What this means is that after any major project, I need to rest a while. Sometimes for a few days, sometimes for a few weeks. I’ve had to account for this when planning my schedule. (Yes, I plan my writing schedule months in advance.) I rarely let myself take more than a month off, and I usually do get things done during that time – they’re just small things. A sketch here. Editing a short story there. Brainstorming. Editing for other people. When I try to do more than what I’m capable of, my brain lets me know, and I shut down. If I keep pushing myself, Bad Things Happen. I can do it when a deadline is looming, but I pay the price later, with long stretches ofhighly frustrating inactivity.

Anyway, When I’m up to writing or revising again, I get antsy. My brain won’t shut up about this or that book, and I know it’s time to get back to work. I’m pretty much in that state right now – the only problem is, I’ve already got work to do. August was reserved to work on The Audio File – the graphic novel project I’m doing in collaboration with K.V. Taylor. I’m excited about it, it looks fun and challenging, and I’m making good headway on drawing the first page.

Brain sez: not enough. It’s already been eagerly plotting the YA sci-fi I’ve mentioned here and there, which I started in November ’09 and subsequently scrapped. Some brainstorming with Jodi Meadows helped me put some things together, reading The Hunger Games got me extra excited to be digging into the YA game and helped me rethink my main character’s motivation, and I’ve been scribbling notebooks full of plotting.

I told my brain, all right, I can keep plotting eagerly, so I can start writing this book when I return from my September vacation. (I’m going to Australia for like a month. How awesome is that?)

But no. Yesterday evening, the brain decided that if it can’t write the YA sci-fi yet, maybe shifting gears to editing The Hands of Cally Wu would help. After all, the writing style can work, but needs a lot of polishing, and I still need to work on the pacing and introduce some plot points earlier on, and -

No, I chastised the brain. August is for Audio File. Besides, if I take on any other major projects, I’ll just need to put it on hold during Australia (!!!) and pausing a project midway is the fastest route to doubting yourself and wanting to give up.

The brain grumped. The brain went to sleep. The brain woke up after an hour of sleep and said, “You know, that urban fantasy trilogy you’ve been brainstorming for the past year and a half? It could work as a YA.”

I laughed, turned over to get back to sleep – and realized it was right. Sleep-deprived Tweeting from my cellphone ensued.

The thing is – this solves so many of the problems I’ve been having with the book. It introduces some others, but those are easily solved. It changes the tone, but that’s not necessarily bad. The characters are younger, and therefore different, but it just makes them more interesting/deliciously angsty. There’s more conflict. And more importantly/annoyingly, since I’ve already done a lot of plotting for this book, it’s just about ready to be written now. (I mean, several hours of non-stop brainstorming will help you convert a book to YA in no time flat.)

So when I’m normally cursing my brain because it’s not letting me be productive – sometimes it it does the opposite.

And at the least opportune time, too. Is anyone surprised?

As an aspiring publishing professional, I try to, you know, be professional. This involves using phrases like ‘you know’ on my blog, because nothing spells out professionalism like that.

Anyhow, it means I try to avoid too many posts about the Big Issues. Religion, politics, social justice stuff, all those good things that get people fired up. It’s problematic sometimes, because it gets me fired up, too. I can’t count the number of times I’ve thought, “Yes! This is a relevant topic and I actually have something semi-interesting to contribute! … I’ll just go and have lunch instead.”

I’ll admit may have slipped once. Or twice. Like when I wrote about Autism Speaks. And feminism. And queerness. So apparently I’m not too great on keeping these things from the blog, but I do try.

No one said anything about guest posts, though. So if you’re interested in my thoughts on autism, cures, identity, and stuff like that, go take a look at my post over at the PageTurnersBlog today, “Identity Doesn’t Need To Be Fixed”.

I was quite pleased to be asked to guest blog, as one of my pet peeves about Awareness Months and the likes is how rarely the people they’re about get to say anything. Without going out of my way, I’ve found a handful of Autism Awareness Month blog posts in my regular blog reading, and within the publishing sphere, not a one of them was by a person who had autism themselves.

Coincidentally, a post about this very phenomenon went online yesterday at the Feminists With Disabilities blog. It’s a good read–check it out.

I would, however, like to pose a question to all of you.

In your opinion, how much is too much? Do you get annoyed when an author you follow talks about the Big Issues? Does it make any difference whether it’s in the context of writing? If they’re aspiring or professional? How much do you tackle or avoid these issues in your own blog?

I can only think of a handful of author/agent/editor blogs I follow that are open about them–Jim C. Hines’s blog is the first to come to mind–but I know there are plenty out there who don’t attempt to keep their opinions and professional life separated. Do you think it helps or hurts them? Does it make them more open to attacks, or does it help them build up an online presence because of the discussion it generates? Does the tone matter–snarky ranting vs. level-headed discussion? Is it important to use whatever platform you have to discuss the things you believe in, or is your professional blog just not the place?

Er, okay, that’s eight questions. Apparently, I’m even nosier than I thought!