Today’s been a day of self-doubt.

Now usually, when I start feeling this way, this means something’s going on inside that hasn’t come out yet. At first I thought it was about the schedule, feeling overwhelmed. Earlier today, I wrote this in a draft:

January went pretty well. I came nowhere close to getting Freedom edited, but I did figure out where to begin, which is a big part of the battle. There’s a discussion over on the Cherry forums about when/whether you have the chops to write a story. I’m beginning to wonder about this when it comes to this particular book.

You see the doubt there? I couldn’t figure out why, because the other thing I worked on in January, the worldbuilding and outline for Test of Time, went well. And that story is going very well.

But what I did last night was more research into bigotry, which is one of the big subthemes in Freedom. It really was accidental, in a way. I had stumbled across a blog, which led to another blog, which led to some comments that were certainly applicable, which led me to some that really hit home, like this article and this one.

And then I mulled over all this overnight as I tend to, and all today, and I now understand that I officially Do Not Get It. I Know Nothing. I thought I knew a lot of things. I don’t. Or maybe I get it too well. Which, for some personal reasons, is depressing.

So I wrote a rant of sorts for Hannah, my former bigot who now sees what a mess prejudice has caused her, when she sees another young girl starting on the same path.

The year is 2372, and psychics are the majority in America. Sarah is a young psychic teen whose little brother was murdered by anti-psychic terrorists and has beaten up a non-psychic teen (who had nothing to do with it) just as Hannah’s old boyfriend was beaten 30 years before, starting him on the road to becoming one of the terrorists. And Hannah tells Sarah:

I weep for the human race, because we like to hate. It feels good, that self-righteousness that says I’ve been oppressed! I’ve been wronged! And I will never forgive, and I will never forget, and I deserve to hate you, and to make every thing in your life a misery, because you kept me down, me and my parents and grandparents and all my friends as well. You and your kind, who have everything and get everything and have every door opened to you.

But it’s a dead end street, Sarah. You get the victory over them and you find out that it was you that died, that it was you. You had everything and you gave it away through hating instead of living. And your hate ate away at you and destroyed everything and everyone you loved. And it means nothing. All you’ve done is make another person who now hates your kind, and it never ends. It just goes on and on and on. And one day we’ll wake up and realize it, but it will be too late for the dead.

I know that now. But if you still want some non-psychic to hate then hate me because I know. I can take it. I deserve it if anyone does. My father did that to Tyler. He killed him, and he’s in jail, but if you want to hate, don’t go hating some little boy who doesn’t know why you hate him. Hate me. I know why, and maybe it’ll do us both some good.

I don’t know if I’ll use it in the story, and if I do, it won’t be until the third of the series (assuming this gets published at all). I may be totally off the mark, but it made me feel better to write it.

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