Finding Dory Review

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). And today I’m here with another of my reviews on disabilities in the media. Now, as my Third Anniversary Special was a bit UK-centred, and something hardly anyone knew, I decided to look at something more internationally well-known. Also, I’m taking a step back from Autism and focusing on disabilities in general. I see no better movie to do that with than Finding Dory (2016).

During the late 90s and early 2000s, Pixar was establishing themselves as one of the industry leaders in animated films. With their ground-breaking computer technology and stories that were both imaginative and relatable, every feature they released was a major success. One of their biggest hits during that period was Finding Nemo (2003); a story about an overprotective father (Marlin the clownfish), whose son (Nemo) is kidnapped by divers. Now he has to fight his way through the ocean to reach Syndey, Australia and save him. It’s not the most original concept ever. In fact, you could say it’s your typical run-of-the-mill rescue mission. But what it ended up becoming was something a lot more. Through bonds of friendship, life-threatening situations, and personal growth for both the father and son, it’s a story that shows just how the power of love can overcome any obstacle and bring families closer together.

The response to this film was outstanding. Not only did it win the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature in 2003, but it was the second highest grossing film of that year and became one of the best-selling DVDs of all time – with 40 million copies sold in just three years. The American Film Institute even named it the 10th Greatest Animated Film ever made, and, it was voted one of the Greatest Motion Pictures since 2000 by international critics. After more than a decade since its release, Finding Nemo continues to inspire audiences both young and old. And so in 2013, Pixar announced they’d be releasing a sequel. But how do you continue a story that was near-perfect and arguably didn’t need a follow-up? By focusing on one of its most beloved characters. The ever-forgetful Dory.

Voiced by Ellen DeGeneres, Dory is the regal blue tang who joins Marlin on his quest to find Nemo. Although she’s incredibly good-hearted and wants to help, it doesn’t take Marlin long to realise she comes with complications. You see, Dory has a disability – specifically short-term memory loss – which causes her to forget things almost instantly. Throughout the first film, her condition is mostly played for comedy or used to delay the journey somehow. But it’s not all bad. Some of her other abilities are very useful to Marlin. For one thing, she can read. Which allows them to work out where Nemo is. She also teaches Marlin to enjoy himself every once in a while and uses her charm to get other fish to help them. Additionally, her disability has its high points too. While travelling with Marlin, she remembers their destination thanks to her strong desire to help him. Also, towards the end, when it seems he and Nemo have missed each other, Dory is able to reunite them following a sudden spark in her memory. Through it all, though, she remains her lovable and entertaining self.

In Finding Dory, she becomes the main character. And we’re given answers to questions we never realised we needed. How did Dory learn to read? Where did she come from? And, most importantly, what happened to her parents? In this role reversal of the first film, she sets out to find her family with help from Marlin and Nemo. Along the way, her condition is explored more deeply, and the film provides a social commentary on disabilities as a whole. Now, obviously, I can’t speak for anyone who has short-term memory loss, since I don’t have the condition myself. But I am diagnosed with Autism, which is also a neurological disability. And, as far as representing those go, the film does an excellent job speaking to both the people diagnosed with them and their parents. How exactly? Let’s find out.

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The movie begins with a young Dory, learning a phrase from her parents – one that will help her if she ever gets lost. “Hi, I’m Dory, I suffer from short-term memory loss.” We then get our first glimpse of how the condition affects her. She can’t count to 10, she’s easily distracted by sand (because it’s squishy) and forgets her parents are pretending to be fish she’s never met.

Distraction is common for people with neurological disabilities. Things may look or sound more interesting than what we should be focusing on, and our brains get instinctively attracted to them. This can lead to learning difficulties, which is why those people need guidance and support in their early years.

Dory’s condition also poses risks to her wellbeing. We see she has to be careful not to swim near the undertow or its current might sweep her away. However, she forgets the danger and occasionally swims too close anyway. Her parents try teaching her a song to remember, but she gets distracted again and starts singing a different tune. It’s at this point she notices them looking worried and feels sorry.

What’s good about this scene is that Dory’s parents remain patient and reassuring. Even young children will understand they have problems and they might feel ashamed by them. It’s essential for parents to make sure their child isn’t discouraged and that they find engaging ways of teaching them – no matter how challenging it is.

We then cut to some time later, where Dory has somehow gotten lost. She remembers what her parents taught her to say, but she can’t remember how she lost them. Worse still, she keeps forgetting the fish who try to help her and wanders off again and again. She spends years wandering the ocean until she bumps into Marlin, setting off the events of the first film.

It can be a risky thing when a child gets lost. But it’s even more so when that child has a disability. In some cases, they get so invested in their own thoughts that they can’t comprehend what’s going on around them. I know this because it wasn’t long ago a child wandered off from a store where I work. They actually left the shop altogether and began walking down the high street with a busy road. Even when he was found, he didn’t respond to his mother’s calls or understand what he’d done wrong. Not all children are affected to this degree. But until they know better, it’s best never to let a child like this out of your sight. In Dory’s case, she was lucky not to have been eaten.

A year later, Dory is happily living next door to Marlin and Nemo. However, she keeps waking up too early and forgetting about their anemone’s stings. During a field trip to the stingray migration, words like “home” and “undertow” suddenly trigger suppressed memories in Dory’s mind; she remembers how she got lost and something called “the Jewel of Morro Bay, California.” In a frenzy, she swims for the edge of the reef.

Before I go on, I should say this: Dory continues having these flashbacks throughout the movie, and they gradually reveal what happened to her. Initially, they were meant to be part of the first film with Marlin – to show why he became so paranoid and overbearing. However, the idea was dropped in favour of the prologue because it would’ve diverted from the journey’s heart too much. The reason they work better here is they allow us to feel what it’s like having Dory’s condition. With each new memory, we learn crucial information which brings us closer to the story’s climax. In this sense, it’s as much our journey as it is her’s.

Dory makes it clear she doesn’t want to forget these memories. She has to find her family but knows she can’t do it alone. She needs Marlin and Nemo with her or else she’ll forget. On a side note, I really love it when disadvantaged people show this level of understanding towards their condition. It proves they can work around their own limitations and live independently.

Marlin is reluctant to leave the reef again. But seeing how much Dory misses her parents, as he did Nemo, he agrees to help her. This is a well-executed moment because it gives us some emotional, as well as nostalgic, connection to the first film. We then get another one in the next scene. We see Crush the sea turtle again! By the way, this movie does feature many returning characters (e.g. the seagulls, Mr Ray, and the Tank Gang), but they only play very minor roles, and more emphasis is given to the newer ones introduced – which I’ll get to in a minute.

Upon arriving in California, Dory has a flashback which reminds her of her parents’ names: Jenny and Charlie. Unfortunately, calling them attracts the attention of a monster squid. After nearly getting Nemo eaten, Marlin angrily tells Dory to wait somewhere and forget – since it’s what she does best. This is harsh and would definitely upset anyone with a disability. Essentially, it shows us how not to react in this situation. Marlin gets frustrated with Dory and berates her for not being able to do the simplest things. Even though it’s not always her fault. Saying something like this would just make her resent her condition and gravely affect her psyche. Compared to the earlier scene with Dory’s parents, it’s clear which way is better in handling challenging situations. Additionally, this moment begins a small development arc for Marlin. As Nemo points out, his father tends not to believe in the capabilities of disadvantaged creatures. He did so a lot with Nemo in the first film – given his son was born with a disfigured fin – and continues doing so with Dory, and later a mentally-handicapped bird named Becky. Eventually, he does realise the error of his ways and accepts these creatures have their own way of solving things.

Back onto the story, Dory is caught by marine biologists and taken into the Californian Marine Life Institute – aka “The Jewel of Morro Bay.” Inside, she comes across some colourful characters. There’s Hank the octopus, who’s a bit grouchy but has three good hearts, and two other disabled sea creatures: Destiny the whale shark, who’s near-sighted; and Bailey the beluga, who supposedly can’t use his echolocation after hitting his head. Having characters like this with physical disabilities shows the movie is appealing to all disabled audiences, not just those associated with memory loss. Additionally, they provide some alternate viewpoints on the subject. Destiny doesn’t like her disability because it makes her scared of bumping into things. Whereas Bailey could, unfortunately, represent someone trying to exploit their disability; it’s revealed later on he can use echolocation, he just let his injury prevent him from trying. Being disabled does make things challenging, there’s no doubt, but it should never be used as an excuse. I never let my Autism stop me from putting in my best writing effort.

After more flashbacks, Dory recalls it was Destiny who taught her to speak whale and her parents who made up the Just Keep Swimming song. She also remembers her dad telling her there’s always another way, which inspires her to reach the Open Ocean exhibit – where her parents are – by land. Thinking back to the beginning, when Dory was struggling to learn important lessons, these revelations prove it is possible to remember them over time – even with a neurological disability. It just takes persistence and creativity. In Dory’s case, she was able to memorise whale-speak through constant practice with Destiny, and, her parents embedded a catchy song in her head, which helped her grow up happy and determined. It’s moments like this when disabilities don’t seem all that bad. However, in contrast, the next scene presents some of the issues Dory still has with her’s.

While travelling to the Open Ocean exhibit (by stroller and sippy cup), Dory has to remember the route by following signs and giving Hank directions. She keeps repeating “follow the signs to [the] Open Ocean“, but even then she get’s distracted. Consequently, she makes Hank take a wrong turn and they end up way off track. He then exclaims her memory isn’t working and it’s probably how she lost her family in the first place. Again this is harsh, but it sets up for some essential character development.

While defending she didn’t ‘lose’ anyone, Dory and Hank end up in the touch pool. Which I will admit is made to feel very threatening from the perspective of a fish. Despite the risk of being crushed, Dory tells Hank he needs to keep on swimming, and soon he releases a cloud of ink which fends off the kids. With his life saved, Hank takes back what he said and warms up to Dory. In fact, when they eventually part ways, he says he’ll have a hard time forgetting her. Just as she says “I think I’m going to remember you” – which coming from her means a lot.

Inside the Open Ocean, Dory can’t find her parents. But she does notice some shells lying in the sand. She then remembers her parents used to leave a trail of them so she could find her way home. Following it, she comes to the place where she used to live. But her parents aren’t there either. Seeing it, however, does bring back her most significant memory. One night, a young Dory overheard her mother crying. She was worried that her daughter wouldn’t be able to live independently given the severity of her condition. Dory didn’t want to see her mother sad, so she went to get her a purple shell to cheer her up. Unfortunately, the one she chose was too close to the undertow, and the current swept her away.

How many parents have had this concern? How easy is it to think your child won’t survive in life because of their condition? What if your teaching methods are all in vain? I know my parents must’ve felt this way at some point. And so have millions of others. But the thing is, none of it’s true. History has shown that even the most severely disabled people can go on to live happy, normal lives and do incredible things. It’s not just me, famous people have overcome their limitations; Albert Einstein, Satoshi Tajiri, Steven Hawking and many more. What’s important is for parents not to give in to doubt. If they do, their child will just pick up on their concerns and lack any self-confidence. But if they stick to their teachings and remain calm and reassuring, everything will work out well in the end. If there’s one scene from Finding Dory worth watching, believe me, it’s this one.

Following her flashback, Dory learns that all the regal blue tangs have been taken into quarantine. The quickest way to get there is through the pipes, but she’s worried she’ll forget the directions she’s given – again, this is showing a clear understanding of her limitations. Unfortunately, she’s right. Within moments the directions get jumbled up in her head, she makes wrong turns and becomes hopelessly lost. Luckily another memory saves her. Using the pipes’ echo, she’s able to contact Destiny, and, with Bailey’s reawakened echolocation, the whale shark guides her to safety. But not before the latter reunites with Marlin and Nemo, who’ve been on their own misadventure to find her.

As the three travel down the pipes together, Dory wonders if her parents will really want to see her again. But Marlin tells her they’ll be overjoyed. Because parents will always love their children regardless of their disabilities. Which is an important thing to remember; no matter how challenging a child’s condition is, it’s simply a part of who they are. True parents will learn to accept this and live past it. Marlin knows Dory’s parents will also love who she is now. Because he admits that the time he’s spent with her has made him a better father. In fact, the way he and Nemo found her was by thinking: “What would Dory do?” She feels happier after hearing this, but Nemo is sad to realise they’ll have to say goodbye soon.

Arriving in quarantine, it doesn’t take the friends long to find the regal blue tangs’ tank. However, there’s shocking news: Jenny and Charlie went missing years ago. Apparently, they followed Dory down the pipes to try and find her but never came back. Believing her parents to be dead, Dory begins spacing out and loses all sense of what’s going on. It then goes from bad to worse as she’s lifted from the tank – leaving Marlin and Nemo trapped – gets dropped on the floor and then slips down a grating back into the ocean. Within seconds, she can’t remember what’s just happened and even forgets Marlin and Nemo.

This goes back to what I said about being heavily invested in your own thoughts. Dory is so distraught by her parents’ fate that she can’t register anything else. It’s another well-executed moment because everything is shown through Dory’s eyes, allowing us to feel how confused and unfocused she is.

At this point, Dory is terrified. And we’re scared for her since there’s a real chance she could end up wandering the ocean again. Fortunately, the one thing she does remember is “what would Dory do?” So, staying calm, she assesses her surroundings and makes decisions on where to go. First, she swims towards some kelp (since it’s better than open water); then some sand (because it’s squishy), then a shell, then another shell, then another. And then she realises there’s a whole trail of them. Following it, she comes to a sunken tyre with dozens of shell trails leading towards it. As she approaches, two figures emerge from the distance. It’s her parents! After a moment of stunned silence, Jenny and Charlie rush towards their daughter and embrace her lovingly. Dory is overjoyed as well. But then she starts crying. She apologises to her parents, saying she knows she’s got a problem, but can’t fix it; thoughts leave her head, ideas change, she even forgot about them, etc.

Never before have I ever seen a character so openly expressive about their condition. If the flashback with Dory’s mother was for the parents watching, this scene is definitely for the children.

Jenny and Charlie tell Dory not to be sorry. Because she found them! And they always knew she would. They escaped the institute and stayed in one place for years, collecting shells and making trails, because they always knew somehow she’d remember what they taught her. And she did. “You remembered in your own amazing Dory way,” Jenny says. This was the most powerful line in the whole movie for me. It speaks volumes about the true capabilities of disabled people and what they can achieve under the right influences.

When asked if she’s been alone all this time, Dory suddenly remembers Marlin and Nemo. She has to go back and save them or else they’ll be shipped off to Missouri with the regal blue tangs. With help from her parents and numerous other creatures – including Hank, Bailey and Destiny (who’ve all escaped the institute) – she comes up with a plan. At one point, she has to separate from her parents. But she tells them not to worry. Because even if she does forget, she knows she can find them again. After some crazy shenanigans, including hijacking a truck and crashing it into the sea, Marlin and Nemo are saved. And the other sea creatures can finally enjoy the real open ocean.

Sometime later, Dory is back on the reef with Marlin and Nemo. Her parents have moved there along with Hank, Bailey and Destiny. We see she still has problems with her memory, e.g. forgetting how to count and why she’s counting, but after thinking things through, she’s able to remember quickly. The final scene shows her enjoying the ocean view with Marlin and having one last flashback: her parents are proud she’s followed the shell trail home and say she can do anything if she puts her mind to it.

In conclusion, Finding Dory may not have been a sequel anyone asked for. But it was a surprising success nonetheless. With its unforgettable characters and highly relatable story, it’s little wonder why it became the second Pixar film to gross more than a billion dollars at the box office. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: this movie is for everyone. Even if you’re not a fan of Pixar or animation, I’d recommend it if you’re associated with disabilities in any way (parent or child).

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And that’s all I have to say for Finding Dory. I’m sorry this review took me a little longer to finish, but I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be more than happy to answer them. And, as always, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of https://www.amazon.ca/Finding-Dory-Blu-ray-DVD-Digital/dp/B01FJ4UGF0)

Life, Animated Review (2nd Anniversary Special – Part 4)

(Continued from Part 3: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2017/11/01/life-animated-2nd-anniversary-special-part-3/)

As Owen prepares for his graduation, he has The Little Mermaid (1989) playing in the background. Specifically, the ending where Sebastian says: “children got to be free to lead their own lives.” Once again, a Disney film parallels Owen’s life. Like Ariel stepping out of the sea, he’s leaving school to become independent. It’s a proud day for Cornelia, too, seeing her son on stage. It’s incredible to think how far he’s come from being the quiet little boy she thought would never talk again. Let alone graduate.

Following the ceremony, Owen and his family begin the process of moving him to his new apartment. Before they do, however, Owen insists on watching a few scenes of Dumbo (1941) to celebrate. This notion seems to imply that he understands his condition in this situation. He needs to watch those scenes to be in the right frame of mind, or it could impact him both mentally and emotionally. In fact, we get to witness this Autistic stress first-hand.

Just as the family is about to leave, Owen suddenly realises he’s lost the charm on the necklace Emily gave him. He gets very upset about it and starts behaving erratically (i.e. trying to ‘sniff it out‘ and moaning like a child). His dad suggests they can simply buy another one, but Owen won’t hear of it. Although he knows Emily didn’t make the charm herself, she did buy it for him out of love. So it’s special in a way his dad can’t understand.

To be honest, I do get how Owen feels. I’m something of a hoarder myself. I know it makes sense to get rid of old things and make room for the new. But doing so never feels right to me. It doesn’t matter if its school work, holiday souvenirs or a scarf my Nan gave me before she died; they all have unique memories attached to them. Throwing them away would feel like throwing away part of myself. Perhaps that’s why Owen holds so tightly to his Disney films.

Eventually, Cornelia finds the missing charm, and everyone makes their way to Owen’s new place. His apartment is in an assisted living community, around 75 miles from his parents’ house. Owen is excited to be moving in at first and eagerly helps to unpack. However, once Ron and Cornelia leave, the reality of the situation slowly starts to sink in: he really is all by himself. His feelings are expressed through yet another Disney film. This time it’s Bambi (1942). The first scene shows Bambi’s mother warning him about the dangers of the meadow; it’s wide and open, and they’re unprotected on it. Then, following the infamous shooting scene, the fawn is shown calling out for his mother – which is just before his father shows up, telling him she can’t be with him anymore. In a way, Owen is going through Bambi’s predicament right now. The world can be a dangerous place sometimes, and now he has to face it without the usual protection of his parents.

As time goes by, Owen gradually adjusts to his new life. He struggles with some basic things, like opening the right mailbox. But as it’s an assisted living community, there are always people around to help him. They show him how to cook, how to pay bills and when to take his medication. They also assist him in looking for a job, and we actually get to see him going for an interview at his local cinema. It’s interesting to note the type of role he’s going for too since it involves interacting with many unfamiliar people. And as all we know, this sort of thing tends to make him nervous. It’s good to see him fighting his own insecurities.

Around this time, we also delve more into Owen’s relationship with Emily. And some of its issues. You see, although they do enjoy each other’s company, there appears to be very little chemistry between them. One night when she comes over, they just spend the evening watching Disney’s Aladdin (1992). And other than some light conversation over food, there’s nothing but awkward silence throughout. Reality-wise it’s not the healthiest relationship. Other people notice as well.

While playing miniature golf together, Walter speaks to Owen about possibly moving forward with his relationship. Owen, however, doesn’t seem to grasp what the next stage is. For example, when asked what people use other than their mouths when they kiss, he replies “feelings.” But of course, the real answer is tongues. The problem is, Owen only knows about romance from what he’s seen in Disney films; through couples like Eric and Ariel, Hercules and Meg, Belle and the Beast, etc. It’s challenging for Walter to work around that since Disney films don’t usually explore relationships beyond the Happily Ever After kiss. He even jokingly says the only way he might get his brother into sex is by showing him Disney p###. Sadly, it never comes to that. Because not long after this, something goes horribly, horribly wrong.

At his home in Washington DC, Walter gets a phone call from the assisted living community. After looking distraught for a moment, he tells us the sad news. Emily has broken up with Owen. Apparently, there was a meeting with caseworkers where she expressed concerns about him getting “too close” and that she needed personal space. Owen takes the news very badly. Keep in mind, breakups are practically unheard of in Disney films; the fact that he’s lost his Happily Ever After isn’t something his mind can fully comprehend. It’s the first time he’s ever experienced such as a hard dose of reality. Trying to make sense of it all, he calls his mom and asks her why life is “so full of unfair pain and tragedy?” She replies it’s just the way life is sometimes. There are joyous and relaxing times, but also sad and painful ones. What’s important is to accept they’ve happened, move on and trust things will get better in the end. Unfortunately, Owen can’t seem to do that. Not only does he still wear Emily’s necklace, but he has a picture of her next to his bed. Plus, he’s seen watching a sad clip from The Little Mermaid where Ariel is crying over Eric getting married to the Sea Witch. Eventually, a councillor has to step in to try and explain the situation. But Owen won’t listen to reason. He’s too emotionally unstable and even starts shouting in frustration.

It is painful to watch. But once again, I think it’s an essential scene. It shows how sensitive Autistic people can be under challenging circumstances. I should know, I’ve been there myself. During my last year of University, I was succeeding well in terms of grades. But I was also under a lot of stress. The sheer volume of work and tight deadlines were so intimidating to me that I never wanted to stop working. If I did, I feared my condition would slow me down and then I’d never finish on time. As a result, I devoted practically every second I had to my assignments. Which gravely affected my health and mentality. It got to the point where I was literally crying myself to sleep and waking up in the morning vomiting with anxiety. It didn’t matter what other people said to me; they weren’t the ones with Autism. They couldn’t understand what battling through my learning/focus difficulties was like. So whenever they said I was stressing over nothing, or they’d been through worse, it didn’t reassure me. It just made me resent them.

Anyway, back onto Owen; he tries to cope by channelling his emotions into his creative work again. For instance, he creates the villain Fuzzbutch for his Land of the Lost Sidekicks story. A creature that blows fog inside people’s heads and makes the world look like a sad, scary place. Clearly, it’s how he sees it right now. But that’s not all.

Soon after, his mom calls with some exciting news. He’s been invited to an Autism conference at the Rennes University in France. They want him to give a speech about Autistic people, and how they use their passions to make sense of the world – as Owen does with Disney. Owen agrees to go, but he struggles with a lot leading up to it. He finds it challenging to write his speech, he doesn’t know how to do up a tie (despite being 23-years-old), and when he’s on stage it looks like he won’t talk at all – he’s never spoken to such a large audience of strangers before. Eventually, though, he does find his voice.

He starts off talking about the very specific interests he and some of his Autistic friends have; animated films, superheroes, and the history of all actors and comedians who are Jewish. He then addresses the false notion that Autistic people don’t want to be around other people. The truth is, they want what everyone else wants. But sometimes they’re misguided and don’t know how to connect with others. He, himself, used to be afraid of growing up and watched the world go by like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. He explains that Quasimodo didn’t get the girl in the end, but was happily welcomed into society after a long and hard journey of being an outcast.

I hung on every word of the speech because it’s 100% true, especially the parts comparing Owen to The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Here’s the interesting thing about that movie – and by the way, I am quoting a review by Animat here. Not only is the tone more adult for a Disney film, but it touches on many dark and realistic themes that most animated features wouldn’t dare to. These include religion; the mistreatment of gipsies (which can be seen as a social commentary on immigration); lust; and most importantly, dealing with a heartbreak. The reason the latter stands out is that it’s a moment in life everyone goes through. Sure, eventually, you will settle down and find true love. But along the way, you will end up loving the wrong person – someone who doesn’t love you back. And you will learn this the hard way. It’s definitely sad when Quasimodo sees Esmeralda kissing Phoebus. But it’s essential to the plot because it reminds him of his true goal. Which isn’t to fall in love, but to be socially accepted. And when it comes down to it, that’s the primary goal for any Autistic person.

Following the conference, Owen finally comes to terms his break up. He takes off Emily’s necklace and shows Walter a message he sent her over the weekend. It says he’s now accepted their relationship is over, but he hopes they can still be friends – they know each other too well not to. It seems to have worked; Owen and Emily do cross paths at one point, and they appear to be on good speaking terms.

As the documentary comes to an end, we see Owen at his new job in the movie theatre. He tells us once more how worried he was about losing his Disney films when he grew up. But he never did. Although his childhood is over, he’s glad to be moving forward, while still cherishing what he holds most dear.

And I think that’s an important message. It’s good to want to change yourself. But it’s also essential to keep a part of your old self too. If you change just for other’s benefit, then you’ll lose sight of who you really are, and maybe even hate yourself for it. Nothing is more important in development than happiness.

The final scene shows Owen sitting in a dark movie theatre, mumbling his usual Disney dialogue, while a montage of Disney clips plays – the last one being Simba’s roar atop Pride Rock.

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And that’s Life, Animated. Simply put, it’s one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen. Not only does it perfectly represent Autism in such an open and honest way, but it shows exactly how the condition affects everyone, not just the person who’s diagnosed. On top of that, the comparisons made between Owen’s life and Disney mean it’s both relatable and inspiring to anyone who watches it.

As for me, I felt a genuine connection to the story. In many ways, Owen and I are the same; we both have trouble socialising, we both like being creative and we both mumble things that stick in our heads. At the same time though, we’re also very different. I got my first job when I was only 18-years-old. And while Owen has already experienced moving out and having a girlfriend, I’ve yet to accomplish either. It just goes to show how diverse the condition is for each individual person.

I cannot stress this enough. If you have Autism, or you know somebody who does, then this is an absolute must-watch documentary. Nowhere will you find a more perfect guide to the condition, and what you can do to assist it. If you see it for sale, just buy it yourself and be inspired by a masterpiece.

And with that, my 2nd Anniversary Special is done. I never imagined it would take me a year and four parts to finish. But now I can start debating on what to release for the 3rd Anniversary. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be happy to answer them. And until next time, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of http://www.tulsakids.com/Web-2016/Life-Animated-at-Circle-Cinema/)

Life, Animated Review (2nd Anniversary Special – Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2017/06/01/life-animated-review-2nd-anniversary-special-part-1/)

After briefly cutting back to Owen’s adult life, we learn how his parents made their first major breakthrough with his Autism.

It was a year after the diagnosis. And in that time, Owen rarely spoke or interacted with anyone. Even when he did, he’d always spurt random gibberish like “juice of us.” The only thing that kept him calm anymore was watching the Disney movies with his family. Then one day, they were watching The Little Mermaid (1989), and something unusual happened. Owen kept rewinding and replaying the part where Ursula the Sea Witch sings “just your voice” in Poor Unfortunate Soul. Each time he’d say “juice of us.” It was then his mother, Cornelia, realised the truth. Owen wasn’t speaking random gibberish. He was quoting the movie. “Juice of us” meant “just your voice.” His father then said the line and Owen quoted it back. It was the first time their son had looked at either of them in over a year.

I find two things fascinating about this section. The first is Owen’s habit of rewinding and replaying specific scenes. I literally do this all the time whenever I watch DVDs. If I see or hear something I really enjoy, I can’t help experiencing it multiple times. That way, I’m able to store it in my memory and relive it whenever I choose. The other amazing thing is the line itself. How ironic is it that, for the better part of a year, Owen had lost his voice – like Ariel in the movie – and the words that helped him speak again were “just your voice“? It’s another major parallel he has with Disney.

By this point, Owen’s parents thought they had Autism figured out. They understood their son’s gibberish and now, seemingly, had a way of communicating with him. However, a specialist pointed out that many Autistic children just repeat what they hear. Which is true. Sometimes I say things back to myself, not because I’m trying to make conversation, but because I’m trying to register certain information. Owen does the same throughout Life, Animated; he repeats what people say to him to ensure it sticks in his mind.

Four years later, however, Owen’s parents would make their biggest breakthrough.

It’s worth mentioning here that Owen has an older brother. Whose name – ironically enough – is Walter (or ‘Walt’ for short). During Walt’s 9th birthday, Owen noticed that his sibling wasn’t feeling too happy. In fact, he looked downright depressed at something. Owen then went to his parents and said, “Walter doesn’t want to grow up, like Mowgli or Peter Pan.” This was astonishing for Ron and Cornelia. For years, they’d assumed their son couldn’t process the world around him. Yet he’d just spoken to them about a real-world issue. It wasn’t something he heard or repeated either; he’d observed a complex emotion, processed a complex thought and expressed it using a complex sentence. He’d used Peter Pan (1953) and The Jungle Book (1967) to work out a situation even his parents weren’t aware of.

But things didn’t stop there.

Soon afterwards, Ron wanted to try speaking to Owen. But he knew his son wouldn’t likely talk back. That’s when he noticed something nearby: a hand-puppet of Iago the Parrot (Aladdin; 1992). Putting it on and mimicking the bird’s voice, Ron asked Owen how he was feeling. Owen admitted he was sad because he didn’t have friends. Just managing to stay in character, Ron then questioned how he (Iago) and Owen became such good friends. Owen replied, “when I watched Aladdin you made me laugh.” This was the first proper conversation the two had ever had. But Ron discovered something else. Whenever he said something Iago did in the movie, Owen would reply with the next line (e.g. “I love the way your foul little mind works,“). Suddenly, it all made sense. It wasn’t just scenes and dialogue Owen remembered. He’d memorised the whole of Aladdin! And all the other Disney movies, too! As long as you said something like one of the characters, Owen would listen and make conversation. This was the answer Ron had been searching for; the secret that would allow him and his wife to help their son. From then on, the whole family spoke in Disney dialogue.

You might think that choosing to live a Disney movie is going a bit extreme. But when it comes to Autism, nothing is too drastic. Sometimes the only way to get through to a person is to appeal to their interests. You can then use those interests to help them engage with reality, and eventually teach them life skills. For Ron and Cornelia, Disney was their best hope of assisting Owen’s development in the long-run.

And it worked.

As time went by, Owen’s silence gradually began to fade. He still mumbled to himself, but he was finally able to speak and express his emotions – albeit slightly exaggerated. Plus, his obsession with Disney continued to do wonders for him. He’d memorise all the film credits, and it taught him to read. If he felt a certain way, he’d use scenes or characters to express himself; like Hercules for not giving up, Mowgli for wanting friends or Pinocchio for wanting to feel like a ‘real boy’. Later in life, it would even help him to become a mentor of sorts.

Remember what I said about Autistic people using their unique talents to make a positive difference in the world? Well, that’s what Owen did. As a young man, he started his own Disney club – a special one for disadvantaged people. In addition to watching the movies, he would encourage his friends to think about what they were teaching them in life. For instance, The Lion King (1994) is primarily about Simba learning the responsibility of being a king and how to live on after his father’s death. It shows how much Owen understands independence and wants to pass on that knowledge to others.

Thanks to his club, Owen was able to bring people together and form connections. He even got to meet his idols Gilbert Gottfried and Johnathan Freeman, the voices of Iago and Jafar (respectively), when they came to perform Aladdin scenes with everyone. Best of all though, the club is where Owen met his girlfriend, Emily.

Seeing them together, it’s clear Emily is just as Autistic as Owen. Her speech is slow, her facial expressions are often glassy, and she comes off as being child-like. In one scene, Owen gives her some flowers, while she gives him a necklace with a Mickey Mouse charm on it. She also gives him a hand-made card with coloured writing and a drawing of them both holding hands – seeing it reminds me of the cards I used to make when I was a child. Owen says he loves Emily because she’s “wonderful[,] cute[,] adorable and speaks soft and gentle.” Plus, she’ll be moving into the apartment just above his when he graduates. So then they’ll be “neighbours in love.”

This section is another highlight of the documentary for me. With everything Owen has been through, it’s lovely seeing him live as normal a life as possible. Some people with Autism can go years without finding love, or even friends who share their interests. Owen was able to find both in Emily. Thanks to his parents freeing him from isolation, he was given the opportunity to socialise with others. It’s moments like this that give people like me – and their parents – hope and inspiration for the future.

However, we all know life is full of high and low points. And as Life, Animated continues, Owen learns he still has many difficult challenges ahead.

Continued in Part 3: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2017/11/01/life-animated-2nd-anniversary-special-part-3/

(Image courtesy of: http://www.tulsakids.com/Web-2016/Life-Animated-at-Circle-Cinema/)

Sword Art Online II: Part 4 Review

There’s something I want to share with you all: this piece which I uploaded on Amazon not too long ago. It may seem like a random review of a random DVD. But to me, it’s the culmination of nearly three months hard work. That’s right, I said three months. Some of you may find that shocking. Which is why I want to discuss things here and now, rather than wait forever to talk about it on my other blog: https://autisticbloggerreviews.wordpress.com. Hopefully, when I’m done, you’ll understand why one of my favourite hobbies is also one of my biggest drawbacks. Let me explain.

For those of you who don’t know, I like writing Amazon reviews in my spare time. They help me practise my creative skills when I’m not working on documents like articles or cover letters. Since 2014, I’ve posted more than 50 of them, with over 85 helpful votes between them. I’m even listed as one of the site’s Top Reviewers. However, few people realise the amount of time and effort that goes into one of these pieces.

Sometimes it’s easy. If I know the product well and plan what to say in advance, then it only takes me a couple of weeks to write the review – depending on how much spare time I have. But sometimes the process takes A LOT longer. If there are dozens of points I want to make, for instance, I usually skip the planning stage and try writing the piece as quickly as possible. This is never a good idea. Knowing what to say and how to say it are two different things.

Without a proper layout, I don’t know when best to bring up certain points. Do I mention them straight away? Or save some for later? Which would be better for the reader? Also, how long should I talk about these points? Should I go into detail? Or can they be summed up in a sentence or two? Do they even need mentioning? Writing on instinct can only take you so far.

Plus, given how much my Autism makes me a perfectionist, I’m constantly revising my thoughts. Here’s a peek into my autistic mind:

Should I add this word here or does it work better there? Is this sentence too long or too short? Does it lead into this sentence okay? Am I using this word too much? Can I get rid of this sentence? Will the paragraph make sense without it? When should I start a new paragraph? Do I use a comma here or a dash? What about a bracket? A colon? A semi-colon? Should I change this word? Or this sentence? Or this paragraph? Should I just start over again?

All these questions – and more – constantly nag me as I write. That’s why I spend more time editing my work than actually finishing it.

In my last update, I said there were numerous reasons why I hadn’t been posting new content on my blog: work, job searching, drama rehearsals, etc. But the main reason was this review. I didn’t want to start anything else before finishing it, in case it stressed me out even more. That being said, focusing solely on the review didn’t help either. It was exhausting reading the same words over and over again. I couldn’t focus my thoughts properly. And I began losing all sorts of things; time, patience, motivation, even my own sanity. It was getting to the point where I would literally spend a whole week on one paragraph, then another week on the next and so on. Until eventually three months had gone by. As you can imagine, it was a huge relief when I finally clicked the submit button on Amazon.

It does concern me how long I take to write things sometimes. Especially as my dream is to become a children’s author one day. How can I hope to write books if I can’t even manage a 2000-word piece in less than two weeks? It doesn’t seem possible, does it?

The sad thing is I know how to prevent myself running into these sorts of writing problems. I just didn’t apply that knowledge here because I thought the review would take me longer to finish if I did. Ironic, isn’t it?

I’m sure many of you would say I’m just overthinking things. Or my time would be better spent on more important projects. I do agree with you 100%. But old habits die hard as they say.

Completing this review was a real eye-opener for me. It helped me realise I need to be more organised. Not just with writing, but my life in general. If I took my time planning what to do, when to do it and how long for, it would make things much easier on me.

All of that aside, I am glad how this review turned out. My dedication and determination made it one of the best I’ve written to date. So please take a look and let me know what you think of it. The other parts are available on my Amazon profile, where you can vote if they’re helpful or not (https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/profile/amzn1.account.AHNGEVB42MLFVOSAZTJJKBFBACEQ?ie=UTF8&preview=true).

I know this isn’t like my usual posts. But given how vast Amazon is, and how much I had to sacrifice for this review, I couldn’t bear the thought of nobody seeing it. Enjoy:

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Before I begin, I just want to say this: I am a HUGE fan of Asuna. I know Kirito is meant to be the main protagonist of SAO. But whenever I watch animes, I always find myself more attracted to the female leads; simply because of how much potential I think they have. You see, back in college, I was taught there were only 18 specific roles a woman could fulfil – compared to the 43 taken by men. But I disagree. I believe women can outshine men in almost any role, as long as there is enough passion behind the character.
When I see Asuna, I see the embodiment of a well-written female lead. Not only is she a resilient fighter, with a charming personality, but the story also explores the deeper aspects of her life (e.g. her flaws, motives and insecurities), making her one of the most fleshed-out characters in the series. I’ve always felt it’s because of her we have other well-developed heroines like Leafa and Sinon. And, if given the opportunity, she could carry the series just as well as Kirito does. Naturally, when I found out Season 2‘s last story-arc would feature Asuna as the main protagonist I was eagerly anticipating it. So does Part 4 live up to her character? Let’s start with the story.
Continuing where Part 3 left off; Yuuki introduces Asuna to the Sleeping Knights, a group of players who will soon be disbanding because of commitments they have in the real world. Before they do, however, they want to achieve a monumental task. Specifically, clear a high-level boss with only their guild! Asuna doubts it’s possible. But she agrees to join the group so they might stand a better chance. Over the next few days, she grows immensely fond of her new friends and wants to know them in real-life, too. But when she offers to meet them, they all seem uneasy about something. Even Yuuki – who’s been calling Asuna “Sis” for some reason – says it’s best if she forgets them after clearing the boss. Confused, Asuna decides to investigate. It turns out her teammates have been hiding an unfortunate secret. And when she finds the real Yuuki, she’s determined to stay by her side her until the end.
Meanwhile, Asuna’s home life isn’t much better. Her mother keeps pressuring her to transfer schools and give up gaming – almost to the point of being hostile. Asuna has strength in the virtual world. But she’s helpless when it comes to reality. Now she has to find a way to stand up for herself or risk losing the friends she loves.
From the synopsis alone, you can tell just how dedicated the writers were to making this Asuna’s story-arc; Kirito hardly appears, the subplot focuses heavily on her personal life, and she even gets the chance to be a leader again. It’s pleasing to see her in the spotlight like this. Especially considering how she’s been undervalued in recent volumes. Let me explain.
During the first half of Season 1, Asuna was as much the lead character as Kirito. Her sword skills and strategic mind made her a powerful warrior, while her feelings gave her a more loving persona. All in all, she was a solid 3-Dimensional character with tremendous audience appeal. 
Then came the later arcs. 
Alfhiem had the terrible idea of turning Asuna into a damsel in distress. Seeing her wait to be rescued felt insulting because it diminished her prowess and made her look weak. The Extra Edition (OVA) did restore some of her credibility, but only enough to make her a side character. Phantom Bullet also struggled to maintain her relevance. In my opinion, the closest she’s come to showing her full potential again was in the Calibur arc, where she and her skills were featured as prominently as the other characters’.
So what about Mother’s Rosario? 
Starting with the main plot, its set-up allows Asuna to become the centre of our attention. Being the only Sleeping Knight we recognise, we expect her to raise her game and stand out as the group’s leader. Does she do that? Absolutely! Using her old boss-raid knowledge, she comes up with unique battle strategies, and fights alongside her teammates, with all the heart and determination she had during Season 1. Her actions remind us exactly why she was second-in-command of KBO (Knights of the Blood Oath).
The subplot is handled well, too. For the first time, we get to experience Asuna’s home life and just how deeply it contrasts her virtual one. This is largely thanks to the presence of her mother.
Whenever Kyouko is onscreen, we can see why Asuna feels intimidated by her. It’s not just her design – or the animation’s use of dim lighting – but her aggressive, overbearing personality. She’s so strict about Asuna’s future that she frequently decides her life for her. She even tries forcing her into relationships, knowing full-well she has a boyfriend (Part 3). What’s more, if Asuna opposes her judgement, or even considers leading a different life, Kyouko makes it clear she won’t tolerate it. Just like she won’t tolerate her socialising with lower-class people.
Although it was tense watching the scenes between Asuna and her mother, I wish there’d been more focus on their relationship. The main plot is engaging with its action and diverse characters. But their conflict felt like the stronger story to me. Not only does it perfectly emphasise the harsh realities gamers face after logging out, but it shows a side of Asuna we’ve rarely seen before. By exposing her vulnerabilities, and what she’s desperate to hide, it adds significant depth to her character – making her more relatable to the audience. I’ve often compared her problems to those I’ve had with my own mother.
If executed right, this subplot could’ve been groundbreaking for the series. Unfortunately, despite its incredible build up (episodes 1 and 19), the writers chose not to tackle things head on. Instead, they padded out the conflict by giving more screen-time to the Sleeping Knights and almost casually mentioning a solution. It’s a bit underwhelming how easily they resolved the matter. But to be fair, the payoff does work. When Asuna finally confronts her mother, she settles their issues in a way that’s both touching and unique.
Another criticism I have is the story’s pacing. Given how short the arc is – and how much it focuses on Asuna – the narrative barely has time to develop its side characters. Even when it tries, their scenes often feel rushed; like they’re trying to reach the next plot point as soon as possible. In other words, Mother’s Rosario has the same pacing problems as Season 1. Consequently, we don’t learn much about the individual Sleeping Knights, and they can come off as being one-dimensional. 
The only member worth mentioning is Yuuki.
Also known as Zekkon, Yuuki is the cheerful, free-spirited swordswoman, who admires Asuna for her gaming experience. In the beginning, her role seems straight-forward enough. Like Leafa and Sinon, she acts as a mentor/ally to the main lead; teaching Asuna to fight for her future, while also forming a close bond with her. As the episodes progress, however, we find out there’s more to Yuuki than meets the eye. In fact, she has one of the saddest backstories the series has ever produced. I can’t reveal too much, or else it will spoil the last three episodes. But when her secret is uncovered, everything suddenly makes sense: why she and the Knights had to defeat the boss solo; why she’s always in such high spirits; and why she doesn’t want Asuna getting too close to her. In case you’re wondering, it’s not because they’re related – it’s just a coincidence they have Yuuki in both their names. The real twist is far more tragic. To put it simply; the Knights are disbanding because Yuuki is leaving, and she knows for a fact she’ll never see them again. Her send-off is so beautiful I almost cried.
Now, some of you may be wondering about Kirito. Where does he fit into all this? As I mentioned before, he’s hardly seen in this volume because Asuna is the main lead. He’s mostly there to provide information and support, like the other side characters. Even so, the story doesn’t forget to highlight everything he’s accomplished throughout the season. During one battle scene, for instance, he uses the Holy Sword of Excalibur (obtained in Calibur) and cuts down high-speed spells with a skill he learnt in (Phantom Bullet). Plus, the virtual device he’s been working on plays a vital role in the last two episodes. Hardcore fans may be disappointed by his lack of action. But I think it’s smart whenever a series shifts focus to another character; it keeps things fresh and allows the latter to develop as much as their co-stars.
As for the other recurring characters (Klien, Silica, Lisbeth, Yui, Leafa, Sinon, etc.), they only make cameos here. The most we see them is during a montage (episode 24) where they interact with the Sleeping Knights, and other familiar faces. Which, I will admit, is very nostalgic.
In conclusion, Part 4 is a satisfying end to SAO2. The plot wasn’t taken in the direction I would’ve hoped. But the writers did a fantastic job making Asuna feel like a real heroine again. She remains centre-stage throughout, her abilities were used to their fullest potential, and she was given some much-needed character growth. On top of that, the volume touches on numerous real-world issues; such as AIDS, peer pressure and family conflict. So much so, you feel a personal connection with each of the victims. For a series heavily based around virtual gaming, it’s admirable how much relatability the episodes push for.
And that concludes my reviews of SAO2. Is it on par with the first season? For the most part, I’d say yes. It had a bit of a shaky start with its raunchy humour and slow pacing (Part 1). But it quickly made up for it with complex characters, engrossing storylines and a tone that enabled it to stand out from its predecessor. Additionally, the attention to detail shows how committed the writers were to maintaining the series’ success.
I would recommend this volume, and the rest of SAO2, to any fans of anime. Specifically, those who enjoy video games and/or realistic scenarios. The episodes provide just the right nostalgia for returning fans, while also incorporating new aspects which leave lasting impressions – even on late-comers.
At the time I’m writing this, there haven’t been any plans to make a third season of SAO just yet. But there is the 2017 movie, Ordinal Scale. If they decide to release an English Dub on Blu-Ray or DVD, I may consider reviewing it. Until then, stay tuned.
(P.S. I apologise how long it’s taken me to post this review; please let me know if it was helpful or not.)

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If you have any questions, please leave me a comment – I’ll be happy to answer them. And, until next time, stay tuned.

My Little Pony: Lesson Zero and Autism (Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2016/10/22/my-little-pony-lesson-zero-and-autism-part-1/)

From here onwards, the episode focuses on Twilight trying to cope with the stress of potentially missing her deadline. Many people go through this situation, of course. But it’s important to note how Twilight is reacting. And why. Because she thinks very highly of Celestia, she feels it’s necessary to push herself – if she’s not perfect, it’s not meeting her tutor’s standards. I had this same problem in university. Because I took Creative Writing at Greenwich, one of London’s top colleges, every assignment felt like it had to be precise or else I’d fail my course. This goes back to what I said before about problems feeling bigger than they actually are. No one expects perfection – not even royalty. But if you’re used to being a model pupil, it’s easy to stress over small details and imagine all the negative outcomes.

Thinking she’ll be sent back to magic kindergarten if she fails, Twilight decides to find a friendship problem and solve it by the end of the day. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much luck. Every time she runs into one of her friends they look like they’re in trouble. But it turns out to be a misunderstanding, leaving her crushed.

Yes, Twilight is actually hoping her friends are suffering so she’ll have something to fix and write about. When you’re stressing over a deadline, it’s hard to concern yourself with anything else.

With no friendship problems in sight, Twilight curls up on a park bench trying to comfort herself. However, the pressure is clearly getting her. She’s stroking her tail, her mane is frazzled, she starts crying and arguing with herself (Gollum-style.) She even has hallucinations of younger ponies (fillies) laughing at her.

You might think this behaviour is a bit exaggerated or comical. But I can tell you, from personal experience, that it’s realistic. There were times in university when I’d curl up in fear. Or I’d cry and talk to my reflection. Sometimes I even had nervous twitches that made me throw up in the morning. The point is, stress can cause you to act the way Twilight does. And I’m glad Meghan McCarthy and the animators gave us such an accurate portrayal here.

Spike tells Twilight she needs to calm down because he’s worried about her. He suggests they go to the picnic so she can relax. But Twilight sees this as another chance to find a friendship problem.

Again, this is realistic behaviour from Twilight. When you have short deadlines, it feels like you can’t afford to take breaks. If you do, you’ll just have less time to finish your tasks, which makes the situation more stressful.

Arriving at the picnic, Twilight tells her friends she desperately needs their help. They seem eager to lend a hoof until she explains she’s late for an assignment. At which point, they brush off the problem and go back to their picnic. Twilight insists her whole life depends on this. But her friends just say she’s getting all worked up over nothing – some even laugh and call her a drama queen. This infuriates Twilight, and she runs off in frustration.

This is a very pivotal moment in the episode. Not only does it affect everything that happens afterwards, but it ultimately leads us to the moral of the story.

Also, this situation is something I feel very personal about.

To be fair, Twilight’s friends aren’t being hurtful on purpose – they do show regret after she runs off. But if I were in her position, I’d be mad too. There have been times when I’ve gone to people for help, and all they’ve done is tell me my problems aren’t worth stressing over. I  do understand why they say this. But it doesn’t do anything to help me, and I almost hate them for it.

It’s the same with Twilight.

Yes, she is overreacting – that much is obvious. But she wouldn’t be panicking if she didn’t feel she had a reason to. Her friends don’t see what’s so stressful because they’re not the ones with the problem. So they think the obvious solution is to stop worrying about it. But this is the worst thing you can say to somebody in Twilight’s predicament.

People do prefer not to feel negative emotions. But they can’t stop feeling how they are just because someone tells them to. If you were punched in the face, you wouldn’t forgive the person who did it just because they said it was a joke. You wouldn’t immediately cheer up if you were told your mother died. And you wouldn’t stop worrying about something just because another person said they would. Telling someone they’re overreacting, without offering a proper solution to their problem, just makes that person think you’re being insensitive. Or worse, poking fun at their misery. This is the sort of thing that ruins relationships.

Twilight’s friends don’t realise the severity of their actions – or lack of them. And it’s what leads us to the episode’s climax.

We cut back to Twilight, who’s watching the sun set from her bedroom. By this point, her mind has officially snapped, and she’s descending into madness.

Seriously, go on YouTube, type Crazy Twilight Sparkle and click the first video that comes up. This scene alone proves why My Little Pony isn’t just for girls anymore.

With seemingly no other option, Twilight decides if she can’t find a friendship problem, she’ll make one.

I’ve been through this scenario once too often; the pressure of meeting a deadline can be so overwhelming you resort to taking shortcuts. The stress means you can’t think straight and you’re so focused on finishing the task you don’t care if it’s done well or not.

Twilight goes outside, with a sadistic grin on her face (see image link below), and comes across Applebloom, Sweetiebelle and Scootaloo (the Cutie Mark Crusaders). She shows the fillies her Smarty Pants doll and gives it to them, hoping they’ll fight over it. When they don’t, she casts a “Want It/Need It” spell, which forces them to fight. Twilight tries to teach the girls about sharing but quickly realises the spell is too powerful. Then more ponies fall under her spell until nearly everyone in Ponyville is fighting over the doll. Twilight finds her friends and admits she messed up, just as the sun sets over the horizon.

By the way, I should mention the sun has been setting in a rather unique way. Along with a ‘ticking’ windmill, it’s been jolting across the sky like the hours on a clock face. I love how the animators did this because it emphasises how Twilight is feeling about her time pressure.

Just when it looks like things can’t get any worse, a voice cries out “TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” It’s Princess Celestia. She casts a spell which removes the enchantment from the doll, returning every pony to normal. She then approaches Twilight and says to meet her in the library. Believing she knows what this means, Twilight says a sad goodbye to her friends and walks away – it’s only then they realise how big Twilight’s problem might’ve been.

However, it turns out Celestia isn’t mad. She tells Twilight she’s a wonderful student, and she doesn’t need to get a letter from her every week to know that.

This is further proof that Twilight set the letter deadline herself. She was just pushing herself, unnecessarily, to impress her teacher.

Suddenly, Twilight’s friends burst in and beg Celestia not to punish her. They insist it was their fault for what happened because they didn’t take Twilight’s feelings seriously before. If they did, they could’ve done more to help her, and she wouldn’t have caused all the chaos.

I’m so glad Megan McCarthy included this scene. The episode could’ve ended with Twilight learning her lesson, and that would’ve been enough. But she makes it clear that Twilight wasn’t the only pony at fault. Her friends share equal blame for not taking the right course of action. To quote a line from an old Sonic Underground episode: “You’re part of the problem if you’re not helping solve them.”

Celestia seems impressed that every pony has learnt from the day’s experience. So she makes a deal with them. She’ll forget the fiasco if, from now on, all six of them write her letters on their lessons of friendship – when, and only when, they discover them.

This solution is perfect for two reasons: A) it takes some much-needed pressure off of Twilight, and B) it solves a problem many critics had with the first season. You see, because Twilight was the only pony who could write Celestia letters, she had to be shoehorned into every single episode – even when she wasn’t the primary focus. With this new set-up, however, the writers could keep the spotlight on other characters, without squeezing Twilight in if they didn’t need her.

Before Celestia leaves, Twilight finds out it was Spike who told her she was in trouble and needed some guidance.

I love how Spike was written in this episode. He’s the only character (other than Celestia) who did the right thing. Twilight was too busy panicking to contact the one pony who could’ve assured her nothing was wrong. So, like a true friend, he did it for her. It’s better to express your fears to the person you’re answering to rather than worrying about what they might say or think.

The episode ends with everyone working together to write Celestia a letter. Twilight has learnt not to let her fears get the better of her, or let a small problem turn into something bigger. Her friends have learnt it’s important to listen to others, and consider their feelings when they come to you with a problem. Spike tries writing how great he is and how he didn’t need to learn a lesson but realises he should cross it out. Everyone laughs as the screen fades to black.

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Overall, Lesson Zero is one of my favourite Friendship is Magic episodes. There have been better ones since it aired like Magical Mystery Cure (S3, Ep13), Slice of Life (S5, Ep9) and Crusaders of the Lost Mark (S5, Ep18). But I enjoy how relatable it is.

I don’t think I would’ve done anything differently to Twilight in this episode. In fact, one of the lessons it teaches has had a profound impact on my writing.

When I first started this blog, I tried to write something for it every week. Unfortunately, this proved too stressful because I had other things going on in my life. And I couldn’t always come up with ideas. So I decided to take Princess Celestia’s advice. Now, like Twilight and her friends, I only write when there’s a significant topic I want to discuss, and when I’m able to devote enough time and effort to it. This has allowed me to produce much better content, with the quality and high standards that my readers deserve.

I could tell you more about what Lesson Zero has done for my life. But I can’t do it justice just by talking about it. If you have Autism, or you care for somebody with the condition, then I would seriously recommend giving this episode a watch. Who’s knows, you might like it so much you end up becoming a brony/pegasister yourself, and watch all six seasons of Friendship is Magic – plus the four Equestria Girls movies.

That’s all I have to say for now. I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to finish this post – it’ll probably be a while before there’s another one – but I try to make sure I have the right blend of quality and quantity in my work. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment. I’ll be happy to answer them. And, as always, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of http://www.brony.com/brony-facts-faq/my-little-pony-cast/)

(Twilight’s sadistic grin: http://orig11.deviantart.net/8150/f/2012/193/1/9/twilight_sparkle___crazy_by_pyschedelicskooma-d56ymme.png)

‘Lola Rose’ Review

This review has been a long time coming. I’m glad I’ve finally finished it. Enjoy.

Ever since finishing my review of ‘Lily Alone’, I’ve been eager to read another Jacqueline Wilson book. And for while, I couldn’t decide which one to choose from the collection I have. Eventually, I decided to go with ‘Lola Rose’, since it handles not one, but two real-world issues – which few other authors dare to attempt.
It’s the story of Jayni, a young girl who lives with her brother (Kenny), mother (Nikki) and father (Jay). The family lives in constant fear of Jay because he’s a rageaholic and unpredictably violent – he’s even put his wife in hospital several times. One day, Jayni gets the surprise that her mother has won the lottery. This seems to put Jay in a good mood. But after drinking too much, he hits Nikki over something petty and then attacks Jayni when she tries standing up to him. Seeing this as the last straw, Nikki gathers her things and tells the kids they’re running away. With the lottery winnings in hand, they travel to London in hopes of starting a new life. They even change names: Nikki becomes Victoria Luck, Kenny becomes Kendall and Jayni becomes Lola Rose. Everything appears to go well to start with. Unfortunately, the money can’t last forever. And things get scary for Lola when she learns her mum might be dying.
Just reading the book’s blurb is enough to make you feel tense. Domestic violence is one thing, but running away and changing your name, so the person you’re escaping can’t find you, really emphasises how serious the situation is. Not to mention, the artwork gives off a sense of danger. The front cover is red (like blood) with a shadow of Jay standing over Lola and Kendall, whilst the back cover features a shark – a recurring motif throughout the book. Also, the blurb says “For Older Readers”, so the audience know this isn’t going to be one of Jacqueline’s light-hearted novels. They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but in this case, the cover actually gets the reader in the right frame of mind, before they’ve turned the first page.
Despite the powerful build-up to domestic violence however, it’s not the biggest focus of the story. It’s only after we start reading that we discover the book’s second real-world issue. Cancer.
This is a subject I can personally relate to. I had a nan who was diagnosed with cancer when I was in secondary school. I tried to stay hopeful for her, but she sadly passed away two months later. Back then I was in my teens, so I couldn’t imagine what the experience was like for younger children.
Before the first chapter, Jacqueline Wilson explains how many people – parents and children – wrote to her about cancer. Their longing for a book which addressed the subject was what encouraged her to create ‘Lola Rose’. Her aim wasn’t to assure readers that everyone survives cancer – since no one can promise something like that – but to portray cancer in a realistic manner; showing how it can take hold of someone’s life and affect everybody around them.
Victoria doesn’t have cancer in the beginning of the story, nor does it suddenly appear out of nowhere. Instead the illness is foreshadowed and slowly develops over time. The first chapter mentions Lola’s grandma had cancer before passing; Victoria’s breasts become saggy and lumped; Victoria is urged to see a doctor; and so on, until one day she’s right as rain and the next she’s fighting for her life. The story also does well to show how Lola feels at every stage of her mother’s diagnosis – from her initial suspicions, to her growing anxiety, to the absolute terror of learning the truth.
Although Jacqueline Wilson herself admits the story is sad and she puts the family through a lot of hard times, it’s all done for realism. Cancer doesn’t care who you are – even if you’re a single parent looking after two children. It’s an unforgivable disease that can claim the life of anyone at any time.
What makes the issues in ‘Lola Rose’ so strong is how believably they’re portrayed in the story. This is largely thanks to the realistic way the characters are written.
First there’s the main character, Lola Rose (Jayni). Like most Jacqueline Wilson heroines, she’s very mature for her age and seems eager to grow up; she dreams of becoming a model like her mum, with a slim body and long flowing hair. Also, she’s aware of everything that goes on in her family (beatings, finances, housing, etc.). Sometimes she has to take responsibility because her mum makes foolish decisions or doesn’t think things through seriously enough. At one point, Lola even sounds like Victoria’s mum: “I’ve been worrying myself sick wondering where you [were],” (p95).
No matter how grown up or responsible she acts though, the story never fails to remind us that Lola is a child. She enjoys making collages out of scrap magazines and has many typical fears for a girl her age (e.g. sharks). The fact that she’s also scared of her father and understands such adult things as money, prison and abuse goes to show us what she’s unfortunately been exposed to early in life.
It’s sad when a child has to act grown up. But it also makes us proud of Lola when she takes mature actions for the well-being of her family. She refuses to listen to the “Voice of Doom” in her head and faces her fears by standing in front of a shark tank for an hour. Things get desperate, but she doesn’t resort to stealing. She even tracks down a distant relative to help the family when they’re at their lowest point.
Lola’s role in the story is to be someone readers can relate to and/or learn from. Which is why it’s essential that the narrative be told entirely from her perspective.
There’s also Lola’s younger brother Kenny/Kendall. Unlike his sister, he doesn’t understand the situation with their father and keeps expecting him to come back. He’s a terrible nuisance for Lola and Victoria, because he whines all the time and often lets slip information about their past lives. His purpose is to show the struggles carers have with younger children – especially in situations the latter can’t comprehend. Having a little brother also gives Lola more of a reason to act responsible when her mother isn’t around.
Victoria is a responsible woman and loves her kids dearly. But the story often shows how weak and simple-minded she is. A lot of her mannerisms can be considered childish; she chews her thumb when she’s nervous, dots her ‘i’s with hearts, fantasises impossible things (like becoming friends with Victoria Beckham) and sometimes loses her grip on reality. It’s even mentioned that Victoria gave birth to Lola when she was just 17. Plus, she admits to being “a kid at heart,” (p4).
Her low self-esteem is probably why she’s unable to stand up to Jay, and allows him to beat and control her. It’s only after he punches Lola that she finally has the integrity to leave him. She also takes things more seriously when she realises the lottery money is running out; she finds herself a job, gets proper accommodation, and enrols her kids in a local school. Unfortunately, some of her old habits die hard and it causes all sorts of problems for Lola.
And then there’s Jay. He’s not featured in the story a lot, but he certainly leaves his impression. The first two chapters establish how violent and intimidating he is; we don’t just hear about him spending time in prison for GBH, we’re also shown him punching his daughter. Plus, the way Lola describes Jay only makes him scarier: “he can make you feel so special – but he can also smash your face in,” (p7). She even compares him to a shark: “he smiled…a shark smile,” (p270); “it didn’t stop me worrying about the shark swimming silently in and out the windows and doors, looking for his family,” (p114).
There’s no denying Jay is a terrible father and his actions can’t be condoned. But the most important thing about him is that his character is portrayed believably. Lola explains how he and her mum genuinely fell in love when they were younger. She also mentions how Jay sometimes regrets his violence and even cries about it. This really humanises him, because it proves he’s not 100% evil – no person is. It just goes to show that anyone is capable of causing harm under the right circumstances. Lola even admits after running away that whilst she hates her father and is scared silly of him, she does still love him (p49).
Finally, there’s Auntie Barbera – the family’s guardian angel. She’s introduced late in the story, but she doesn’t feel like an ex-machina (since her existence was established beforehand). She takes care of Lola and Kendall in their time of need, showing how loyal family can be in dire situations.
From beginning to end the story is character-driven. Everyone is so engaging and relatable that it’s hard to believe we’re reading a novel and not an autobiography.
Another thing that makes the story believable is its real-world references. Anyone who’s been to the London aquarium will recognise the room with the giant shark tank – and could easily picture Lola standing there. Also, the text mentions shops like Tesco and HMV; restaurants like McDonalds and T.G.I. Fridays; TV shows like ‘South Park’ and ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’; movies like ‘Jaws’ and ‘The Wizard of Oz’; stage productions like ‘Beauty and the Beast’ and ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’; singers like the Spice Girls and Kylie Minogue; songs like ‘I Should be so Lucky and ‘Follow the Yellow Brick Road’; and so on. It depicts a world that’s familiar to any reader.
In conclusion, ‘Lola Rose’ is another Jacqueline Wilson classic, with sincere characters, strong messages, and a plot with high and low points throughout. It’s also very creative with its writing (e.g. the shark and “Voice of Doom” metaphors). Some elements do feel like they were added in for plot convenience – the most obvious being Victoria winning the lottery – but it really helps us think about the subjects we’re reading. We know that people in real life won’t be as fortunate as Lola’s family. Even the book’s ending is ambiguous, so we’re not entirely sure if it’s happy or sad.
I also noticed similarities between this story and ‘Lily Alone’. There’s a mum who acts childish and falls in love with a college student, a mature girl who acts responsible and likes being creative, a younger sibling who always causes trouble, etc. I’m sure I’d feel the same way about ‘Lily Alone’ if I’d read ‘Lola Rose’ first though.
For this book, I have a couple of important recommendations. I would recommend this to readers who haven’t experienced domestic violence and readers who are experiencing cancer. The former can appreciate how harsh and frightening other people’s lives can be, whilst the latter can use it as a guide to help them through some difficult times.
That’s it of this review. I really enjoyed reading ‘Lola Rose’ and I look forward to picking up another Jacqueline Wilson book in the near future. Until next time, stay tuned.

If you enjoyed this review, then please check out some of the other things I’ve critiqued on this blog, my Amazon profile (https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/profile/A2AR00PMKLC1TG?ie=UTF8&ref_=sv_ys_3) and Autistic Blogger Reviews (https://autisticbloggerreviews.wordpress.com/). Leave me a comment to let me know what you think – or if you have any questions. And, as always, keep an eye out for the next post.

(Image courtesy of Wikia: http://jacquelinewilson.wikia.com/wiki/Lola_Rose/Jayni)

About me: For 7-9 Year Olds

Happy new year everybody, this is George Harvey (aka ‘The Autistic Blogger’). For my first post of 2016 I decided to share something a little bit different. You see, for the past several months I’ve been doing a bit of job-searching. It’s a challenging thing to break into the world of work, especially when you want to be part of the writing industry. Sometimes to prove how good you are you need more than just a good CV or cover letter. In some cases, organisations will set you a writing task to test your abilities in specific ways. For one of the jobs I applied for, I was asked to describe myself in a way that would be exciting for 7-9 Year Olds. This was an interesting challenge for me since I had to think outside the box and the age group was one I really wanted  to write for in the future. Although my application to the job was unsuccessful, the staff were very impressed with what I’d written. I was even asked if they could use my material to talk about Autism in a primary school – one of the staff was also a teacher. Written below is a copy of the piece I sent them. Enjoy.

Hello, my name is George Harvey. There’s something you should know about me. I’m not what you call an ordinary person. I don’t mean I’m psychic or have magical super powers in case you’re wondering. No, I’m just a regular human being. However, I am just a little bit different to everyone else.

You see, ever since I was a little boy, I’ve been able to see things others can’t. Sometimes I see WWE wrestlers becoming Power Rangers to fight King Kong or Godzilla. Sometimes I see Pokémon characters playing dodgeball or Quidditch. Sometimes I see Jeremy Kyle as James Bond, or Ant and Dec as Laurel and Hardy, or characters from ‘My Little Pony’ acting out episodes of Doctor Who. Pretty weird huh?

So why does nobody else see these strange things happen except me? Well, they don’t happen in just any old place. You couldn’t walk down the street and expect to see a Dalek waiting for a bus – unless you were really, really, lucky of course. No, these things happen in a very special place only I can visit. It’s a place where everything unusual and out-of-place gathers to be as free and crazy as it likes. Where even the most uninteresting thing can become the king or queen of their own kingdom. And do you know where that special place is? My mind.

That’s right. All these impossible things are fantasies I see in my head.

But how do I get such absurd and creative thoughts? Well, you know when you have favourite TV programs, movies or books? Sometimes there are things in them you always remember, because of how funny, sad or interesting they are. Well this happens to me all the time. Whenever I see or hear something interesting, I record it in my brain. I then play it back to myself over and over again like a tape recorder. Over time, I record more interesting things, until I have several stories and characters all swimming in my mind like a school of fish. Occasionally, when I think two or more things work well together, I combine them to form something new in my head. Have you ever wondered why the Muppets went to Treasure Island or the Land of Oz in their films? Their creators must’ve had the same trick in their heads.

I wouldn’t call myself ‘Megamind’ – that’s already a Dreamworks film. But my wacky thoughts have made me come up with of some pretty amazing stories over the years. Sometimes they’re so exciting, I just can’t contain them inside my head, and they escape through my mouth or fingers as words. If you ever see someone talking to themselves, or typing away frantically, perhaps they’ve just had a ‘eureka’ moment and they’re not the crazy people you think they are.

It’s a wonderful gift to come up with stories so easily. I guess you could almost call it a super power. But with great power, comes great responsibility – and sometimes hardships. And I feel it’s my responsibility to let others know about these hardships.

Imagine you enjoyed something so much it was on your mind literally every second of every day. You’d always want to focus on it and not let anything, or anyone, disturb your thoughts. However, because people around you can’t see the special world inside your head, they just think you’re being rude when you don’t speak or pay attention to them. It can be very hard to make friends this way. So the only way you can help them understand is to tell stories about yourself and those like you.

Writing is my gift. My curse. Who am I? Not Spider-Man. Not a superhero. Just George Brian Harvey. A writer with Autism, who has a passion for using his creativity for the greater good.

If you liked this post then please check out some of the other material I’ve written for the blog. If you have any questions please leave me a comment – I’ll be happy to answer them. And, as always, keep an eye out for the next post. Stay tuned.

‘Lily Alone’ Review

Hello Internet. This is George Brian Harvey, otherwise known as ‘The Autistic Blogger’. Now, this week, I decided to post something that’s a little bit different than normal. This won’t be a post where I talk about Autism or my experiences with it. This will actually be my first ‘Review’.
When I started this blog, I had two main goals for it. The first was to express myself as an advocate, since I’m very passionate about raising awareness of Autism and its effects. The second was to showcase my skills as a writer. However, I also had a third objective: to let people know exactly what I think are some of the best examples of influential work.
Autism is my primary focus, but I understand how important it is for people to know the effects of other real-world issues and disabilities. And there’s no better way to raise awareness than through the media. Every so often, I come across a book, TV series, movie, etc, which I think does well to emphasis how certain issues effect people and society. When that happens, I defiantly feel it’s something everybody should watch/read. This is why I watch TV shows like ‘My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic’ or read books that are aimed at young children. It doesn’t matter to me what their target audiences are. If their morals are universally appealing then they’re worthy of my praise and attention. The message of a story is always more important than the story itself, I feel.
One author I really look up to as a writer is Jacqueline Wilson. From foster-care, to divorce, to social anxieties, her books touch on a number of issues that many people can relate to and learn from. I hope someday I’ll be able to write books as inspiring as her’s. To honour this, my first review for this blog will be on her (2011) novel, ‘Lily Alone’.

‘Lily Alone’ is the story of Lily Green; the eldest of four children, who lives in a rundown flat with her mother and three half-siblings. Lily struggles to care for her family, since her siblings (Bliss, Baxter and Pixie) are very young, and her mother (Kate) is often too sick or depressed to look after them. It doesn’t help either that Lily seems to be the only one in the family who takes matters seriously. One night, Kate meets Gordon, a young man who she agrees to go on holiday with. Despite Lily’s protests, Kate leaves a message for her ex-husband (Mikey) to look after the kids and departs for Spain. However, the next day Lily gets a call back from Mikey, saying he can’t come as he’s away in Scotland for the week. Now with limited food, no money and no front door key, Lily has to find a way to support her siblings, whilst making sure nobody finds out about their secret.
It’s clear from the premise that ‘Lily Alone’ deals with issues of child neglect – as well as responsibility and young caring. How the narrative expresses them to the reader is by telling the story from Lily’s perspective (1st person). Every emotion she feels, or opinion she has, we agree with because it’s how she sees the world. If the story were told from another perspective the feeling and moral would arguably be a lot different. But since the purpose of the story is to emphasis Lily’s struggles, it makes sense that things are shown through her eyes. Jacqueline Wilson has mastered her style of writing to not only raise awareness of real-world issues, but also to make sure her morals are expressed by the right character.
Another thing I like about the story’s narrative is how it always feels believable. Jacqueline Wilson uses many real-world references to emphasise that the story takes place in modern day Britain. Some references include The ‘Secret Garden’ (novel), ‘Chessington World of Adventures’ (theme park), TV shows like ‘Coronation Street’ and ‘I’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here!’, and other things like Smarties, ‘The Wizard of Oz’, Batman, Spider-Man and McDonalds. Wilson even mentions the TV adaption of her ‘Tracey Beaker’ book and the Disney Pixar movie ‘Up’ (2009). Everything makes the story feel realistic and gives the impression that ‘Lily Alone’ is based on actual events – which is just the feeling you want to get from a book like this. The references also advance the plot or express Lily’s mindset (e.g. Lily compares her mum to step-mothers in fairytales, or imagines herself as Peter Pan). There’s even one scene where she describes herself ‘crushing’ fairytale characters inside a book as she closes it.
It’s easy to understand why each character has the personality they do in the story – just as if they were real people.
Bliss is the most sensible and well-mannered of the three younger siblings. She clearly enjoys the affection from Lily and her mother, which is probably why she always tries to be a good girl. However, like most kids her age, she occasionally makes a ruckus and wants things she can’t always have.
Baxter (Bliss’s twin) is the complete opposite of his sister. He’s the hardest to deal with, because he’s violent, reckless and always wants to be in charge. He likes the idea of killing animals; wishes he could join a group of older boys with their beers and cigarettes; swears even though he’s six; sometimes runs off on his own; looks at rude, inappropriate magazines; refuses to be kissed, etc. His behaviour probably stems from his father, Mikey, who Lily feels is too rough and not a good influence on him. She even implies that Mikey has his own knife and let’s Baxter play with it sometimes.
I actually think Baxter represents the problem with most young children today: they don’t act their age. Kids these days use swear words, know sexually inappropriate things and just want to act as grown-up as possible – as quickly as possible. It really concerns me how they’re essentially throwing away their childhood, because of influences they get from their parents. If their parents swear, they think swearing is appropriate; if their parents are aggressive, they think violence is appropriate; if their parents smoke, they’ll want to buy their first packet of cigarets as early as secondary school – possibly even sooner. Whether intentionally or not, I think Jacqueline Wilson raises this issue in ‘Lily Alone’ and emphasises how parents (like Mikey) should be more considerate when speaking and behaving around their children.
Pixie is the youngest of the three siblings and still has a bottle, buggy and cot. By her age (3) she probably would’ve been taken off such things, which implies to me that she may have problems with her personal development. This could be because her family is disorganised and unable to give her the proper growth she needs.
And then there’s Kate. You might think that she’s just a selfish, heartless woman, who would abandon her kids in a heart-beat to go on a holiday. But that’s actually not her character at all – if it was, she’d be stereotypical. Kate’s problem is that, for the most part, she’s still a child herself. She gave birth to Lily when she was just 15, so she’s young enough to be her older sister. The two don’t even act like mother and daughter most of the time – sometimes Kate calls Lily her “best mate”. It’s clear, too, that Kate doesn’t always take her role as a mother seriously. She acts more childish than Lily and never seems to think things through (e.g. money issues or how she’s going to get back from her holiday). What’s more, Kate doesn’t always learn from her mistakes. She’s committed credit card fraud multiple times, had kids with three different men and been to court – all before her 27th birthday.
So can Kate be described as a bad mother? Well…yes. But she’s not terrible. She does understand child neglect and tries to avoid it by setting things up with Mikey. However, just leaving him a message and expecting him to look after the kids isn’t the wisest decision. She doesn’t know if Mikey has plans. And why would he want to babysit for her if he knew she was going to meet her ‘new’ boyfriend?
There’s no denying Kate has faults as a mother, but you can’t really hate her for it. She’s not a bad parent intentionally. She’s just young and misguided. She really loves her kids with all her heart and would do anything to keep them by her side.
This is what makes the story more believable to me; it proves that parents don’t always have to be cruel or uncaring to commit child neglect. Sometimes it just comes down to the circumstances and making the wrong decisions. What’s important is Kate learns her lesson by the end of book – even though it might be too late.
Finally, there’s the main focus of the story: Lily. When we’re first introduced to her, it’s clear she shoulders responsibility well; she’s glad to look after her siblings so her mum can rejuvenate. However, it’s also clear that she isn’t entirely happy with the life she has. She understands the sort of person her mother has become and doesn’t want to end up like her – hence she never wants to have a boyfriend, get married or have children. Her dream is to live in a luxurious house, alone, where she won’t have to worry about caring for anyone but herself.
As the story progresses we see just how old Lily is for her age. She knows about things like the Magistrates’ court and paying the bills, even though she’s eleven. It feels like she’s always taking care of the family even when her mum is around. And when Kate leaves for Spain, Lily doesn’t allow herself to cry or question things, like her siblings, because she’s the oldest and has to keep them happy. Speaking of which…
Despite her plans not to be a mother, Lily really knows how to look after kids well. Some of the things she does in the story could even be considered genius. She knows how to keep Baxter under control; she knows how to keep Bliss smiling; she watches Pixie to make sure she’s kept out of harm’s way, and she keeps the kids entertained with stories and made up games. All the while, she manages to do all the necessary things, like making sure everyone has clean clothes and the right nutrition – like a real mother would. The siblings love their “Lilymum” and Lily almost reconsiders wanting to live alone.
However, Lily isn’t ready to be a parent. She’s just too young to handle the enormous responsibility. Throughout the book she shows signs of still being a child herself, like enjoying fairytales, fearing the dark and constantly wishing her mum would come back. There’s even one scene where she cuddles a pillow, with her mother’s scent on it. The pressure soon gets to Lily, as she begins resorting to more drastic things, like running away from the flat, eating out of the rubbish and even breaking into somebody’s house for food – which just goes to show what real children in similar situations would do to survive neglect. Plus, there’s the constant threat of strangers and somebody discovering their secret. In the end, Lily is close to breaking point, before help arrives. And even then she blames herself and refuses, very stubbornly, to accept that she needs support.
It’s almost upsetting to know how quickly Lily’s had to grow up and how responsible she thinks she is. All she wants is to be a family with her mother and siblings again.
The hard situations Lily and her siblings go through are padded out by people being nice to them (e.g. an ice cream man, a fish and chip shop owner and an elderly couple). However, children in similar situations probably wouldn’t be so lucky. Jacqueline Wilson understands this and so, for realism purposes, she doesn’t make clear whether the ending is happy or sad. Instead she leaves things open-ended for the readers to work out what logical events will likely follow the story’s conclusion. It’s one thing for a story to blatantly express its morals to a reader, but it’s another thing to actually challenge them to think about what lessons they’ve being taught. That’s what I admire about Jacqueline Wilson.
In conclusion, ‘Lily Alone’ portrays a very realistic situation of child neglect, with highly believable characters and an ending that really makes you think about the universal moral. I would recommend this book to any fans of Jacqueline Wilson, since it’s definitely one of her finer works. I would also recommend it to first-time readers of the author, who want to understand her writing style – and mine. But most importantly, I’d recommend ‘Lily Alone’ to anyone who wants to understand the realities of child neglect, young caring and responsibility. I think there’s no better way to learn about such issues than through the eyes of a child.

If you enjoyed this review, then please check out some of the other things I’ve written for this blog. Leave me a comment to let me know what you think, or ask any questions. And keep an eye out for the next post. I don’t know yet when my next ‘Review’ will be, but I have some ideas for the future. Plus, you can follow the link below to my Amazon page to see some of the other things I’ve reviewed over the years. I hope you enjoy them. Stay tuned.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/pdp/profile/A2AR00PMKLC1TG/ref=cm_cr_dp_pdp

(Image courtesy of Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lily_Alone)

Secondary School and Change (part 2)

Last week, I started talking about change and how it effected me during my early years in secondary school. This week, I will tell you about the rest.

I don’t remember the exact date, but there was one day of school that really put me on track to becoming the writer and blogger I am today.

During my early years, I had no idea what I wanted to do after leaving secondary school. I had some vague ideas about games designing, but it was never something I seriously considered doing. Then, one day, my English teacher read aloud the opening to a mystery novel. I was so intrigued by its descriptions that I wanted to try writing something like it myself. So I began the first draft of my own mystery novel once I got home. That’s when it hit me. For years, I’d had all sorts of fantasies going through my head: stories, crossovers, inventions, etc. And it was all because I had Autism. My condition made me interested in a variety of different things, which gave me a very creative mind. I realised that if I wrote down some of these fantasies, then I could make a great fiction writer. That was the day I decided to become an author.

It’s really ironic how writing ended up being the thing I wanted to do in life, as I’d always hated it in primary school. Just the thought of noting down lots of words was unbearable to me and my teachers often had to show me where to write down to in my text books. I also hated reading because I thought it was strenuous; I lied about the books I read for homework and the only ones I checked out of the library were simple ones for infants. After studying books like ‘Holes’ and ‘Kensuke’s Kingdom’, however, reading became my new passion. The creativity that went into some of their stories only fuelled my desire to write.

However, as an amateur writer my first attempts weren’t very good. My Autism made me a perfectionist to the point where I spent more time correcting what I’d written than actually finishing the story. As a result, I never completed any of my personal projects and they were all shelved. Also, my grammar skills were somewhat lacking; one of my biggest regrets in life was not taking English as one of my sixth form options.

I don’t remember much of what happened between the time I decided to become an author and sixth from. But I do remember wanting to be more independent. I already had some work experience – thanks to my family – and I was able to use public transport by myself. However, I wanted to take charge of my education, too. So in a bold move I decided to stop having TA (teaching assistant) support. This made sixth form the first time since nursery school I had no additional help in any of my lessons.

I didn’t really struggle during my first year of sixth form, because a lot of things stayed the same for me. I was still in the same school, with the same teachers and students. And although I had fewer lessons now, they were all the same, too. Plus, if things ever got too stressful, I still had the comfort of the spectrum base – a room where I could meet with friends and share my love of trading cards, games, etc. However, things took a drastic turn in my final year.

The whole school had moved to a completely new building, to go with them changing from a school to an academy. The new environment didn’t bother me, but I did find flaws in the design of the building: a) there was no area for sixth formers; and b) there was no spectrum base. Without the base I was compGrateletely lost at what to do during my break and lunch times. Since I was so used to the room, the playground didn’t feel like an option for me – how could I possibly interact with people outside when I’d spent 6 years indoors? Also, I actually liked ‘doing’ things in my spare time; I didn’t fancy wondering the playground for half an hour talking to someone about a subject I had no interest in.

It was around this time I started realising just how unsociable my Autism was making me. I was so addicted to my interests that I didn’t have any way of engaging in a conversation without bringing them up. And since very few people shared my interests, it just made talking all the more harder. Even if there had been a place to meet fellow sixth formers, I doubt I would’ve had anything to talk to them about.

With no other option, I decided to spend my break times alone. I’d sit by myself, either reading a book or playing games on my iPad. Sometimes I’d see other students sitting across from me, talking like the best of friends, and I’d feel really envious. Sometimes I desperately wanted to try talking to them and maybe make friends with them. But, I was always nervous about speaking to new people, and I feared they’d just shun me if they didn’t like what I had to say. Plus, what was the point in trying to make new friends if I was graduating in less than a year? So I just kept myself to myself and those students never took any notice of me.

Needless to say, my last year at secondary school was quite a sad and lonely time of my life. I realised that I’d missed many opportunities to make friends outside the spectrum base and I felt miserable because of it. Perhaps that was why my mum and dad had been so insistent on me not spend all my break times in that room; I really did have no way other of interacting with people, except through my interests. This wasn’t just a problem in school either. At home, I started spending a lot more time by myself and not leaving the house – since I had no friends to go out with. My mum was really concerned about this and I almost felt ashamed of myself for making her worry – especially since she’d always been there to support me through the big changes of my life.

Another person who was always there for me was my twin sister. I said in ‘part 1’ that I was grateful she’d come to the same school as me instead of enrolling somewhere else, because it gave me comfort knowing she was there. However, I couldn’t have known just how much I’d come to rely on her in later years. Whenever I got depressed or worried about something she’d always be there to give me advice and make me feel better about myself. She was the Alfred to my Batman, you could say. In fact, in my seven years at secondary school, she was probably the best friend I ever had – not that there’s anything wrong with that.

However, secondary school wasn’t all misery and isolation, for me. There were some genuinely good times I had while I was there, too: I won third prize in a school talent show with a comedy act; my lessons allowed me to develop my creativity, with media, technology and ICT projects. I created a ‘Billie Jean’ music video that was uploaded to YouTube; an assistant head called me a role model for younger students. But most importantly, I was doing better in my lessons than I ever had done I primary school; I wasn’t as easily distracted now and I took every one of my classes seriously. I’d decided to stop having TA support, because I felt I could handle things on my own and didn’t need the extra help so much anymore. And I was right.

Eventually, with hard work and determination (plus a few tears), I managed to earn the necessary qualifications I needed to qualify for a professional writing course at college. Getting into college was by far the greatest achievement I’d ever earned as a student with Autism.

How did Autism play a part in my college life? You’ll have to stay tuned to find out.

Before I finish I just want to say this in conclusion. I think that all schools (both primary and secondary) should have some kind of spectrum base, where students can eat lunch, talk, read, play games, watch DVDs, trade cards, etc. It’s a good way for students who don’t usually speak or interact with anyone to be engaging and discover new friends who share their interests. It also gives students who are anxious or have no one to play with in the playground a place of retreat. However, teachers running these bases should also encourage the students who regularly attend them to use their new communication skills in the playground as well. That way the students will know they have the comfort of the room if they need it, but won’t always seclude themselves in it to the point where the playground becomes like an alien world to them. I learnt this the hard way, but it’s good to have friends both in and out of your comfort zone.

If you liked this post, then feel free to check out my other pieces on this blog. Leave me a comment if you have any questions – I’ll be glad to answer them – and, as always, keep an eye out for the next post. Stay tuned.

Secondary School and Change (part 1)

A couple of weeks ago, I spoke about my life in primary school and how my Autism affected me while I was there. This week, I will talk about how the condition affected me in secondary school.

It’s said that one of the hardest things to deal with in life is change. We’re so used to things being a certain way all the time that when we’re faced with something new it can be difficult to accept it. This is especially true for someone with Autism. Often when people have Autism, they feel their lives follow a specific routine (hour-by-hour, every day, every week). By sticking to this routine and doing all the things they’re familiar with (in the right places and right times), they feel they understand all they need to know about life and can live through it in comfort. That’s why any kind of change to their routine – even the slightest alteration – can be sad, scary or stressful to them. Back in primary school there were times when I was heavily affected by change. I was worried when my grandparents moved to Spain, because it meant I wouldn’t see them every Thursday – or enjoy my nan’s special burgers – anymore. Also, I was miserable to learn that our class groups were being mixed up for Year 4, because we’d always been in the same ones every year until that point.

Even today, change still concerns me. I feel compelled to live a routined life and I always get nervous when trying something new. It’s as though whenever I’m faced with a big change, I lose the comfort of my old life and have to stressfully adjust to the new one.

As you can imagine, changing from primary school to secondary school was quite hard for me. But before I talk about what changed, I think it’s worth mentioning what stayed the same. As I mentioned in ‘Primary School Days’, I always had the same teaching assistants (TAs) helping me in lessons. Even though they couldn’t accompany me to my new school (for obvious reasons), I had new TAs to support me once I got there – and they were just as helpful and considerate. This meant I didn’t have to go through the stress of learning in a new environment without someone helping me. Another thing that stayed the same was my sister. Although we never shared a single class together in primary school, just knowing she was in the same school was reassuring to me. She was always my one comfort away from home and I was grateful she hadn’t enrolled in another school like she’d been planning to. These might seem like small things to be concerned about, but for someone with Autism it makes all the difference.

Let me put it another way.

We all know change is important in life – in fact, it’s essential. But I don’t think it’s always a good idea to change yourself 100%. You might want to change for someone else’s benefit or your own – and that’s a good thing. But if you don’t like the person you’ve become after those changes then what was the point in changing to begin with? When you decide to go through with change, I think it’s important to always keep something of your old self. The slightest familiarity in your new life can prevent you from feeling overly stressed about it. That’s why, even to this day, I still find interest in the things I did when I was in primary and secondary school (e.g. trading cards, wrestling, games consoles, animes, etc). Maintaining these interests makes me feel like I’m never completely throwing away the comfort of my old life.

But back onto secondary school.

Although I had my sister and TAs, there were still major differences in my new school life. The least of which was having five different teachers, for five different lessons, in five different locations, throughout the day – not to mention five different time tables for each day of the week. This was a change I settled into well, however. My TAs were with me most of the time and moving from room to room soon became just another routine to me.

Another change – which was harder for me to deal with – was the number of friends I had. In primary school I’d been friends with almost everyone in my class. But before starting secondary school I’d moved house, and, after leaving primary school, I lost contact with all my old friends – keep in mind these were the days before Facebook and Twitter, and we didn’t have our own phones or emails yet. I did make new friends in secondary school, but I’m not sure I was ever as close to them as my old friends – we never met outside school.

The biggest change, however, was to my personality. I’ll admit that when I was in primary school, I was a little terror, who always got into trouble (see ‘Primary School Days’). But I knew how important my new lessons were, and I felt I couldn’t act that way in secondary school and expect to survive – I just couldn’t. So I devoted myself to being the best student possible. My first form tutor even told my mum I was “as good as gold.”

However, my classmates weren’t the same. Secondary school was just one big joke to them and they just liked disrupting the class by talking, laughing and not letting the teacher speak. I felt this was really unfair because I was genuinely trying to learn something and I often had to pay for their antics. I cried a lot whenever the teacher raised their voice – although they assured me their anger was never directed at me. Sometimes I’d get angry, too, and shout at my classmates for their idiocy. I used to think I was the only person who did this, but apparently there are lots of Autistic people who get this ‘Police Officer’ impulse (i.e. try to be assertive when there’s already an assertive person in the room). I later dropped the ‘Police Officer’ outbursts, but I had another problem with my classmates. Aside from my sister, there was just one other boy I knew from primary school attending my lessons. And, unfortunately, he taught others my weaknesses and insecurities. After that, bullying became an emotional, on/off problem for me until sixth form.

Fortunately I had a place of retreat. At break and lunch times there was a special (spectrum) room/centre/base where students could eat lunch, talk to each other, read, play games consoles, watch DVDs, trade cards, etc. I went there everyday and was able to enjoy myself with students who shared my interests. My parents thought I should’ve spent more time in the playground, but by this time my social anxieties were kicking in. I couldn’t speak to people unless it was about something that interested me – hence my friends in the spectrum base were so easy to talk to. I also thought it was better than just wondering the playground with fantasies in my head like I had in primary school. Later on, however, I’d have to adjust to school life without the spectrum base. Something I never quite managed to do…

As this piece is already quite long – and I don’t want to be too late posting it – I will end my secondary school story here and pick it up again either next week or the week after. When that happens, I will talk about my sixth form years and the day that changed my life forever. But before I finish I just want to say this in conclusion. Life is full of changes. You may accept them willingly or reluctantly, but the most important thing is that you’re happy with them. As long as you’re happy with who you are and what you become that’s all that matters.

If you liked this post, feel free to check out my other pieces on this blog. Leave me a comment if you have any questions – I’ll be glad to answer them – and, as always, keep an eye out for the next post. Stay tuned.