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Perceiving the Imperceptible

Today I participated in a local author fair at the Jeffersonville Township Public Library.  Because of an oversight on their part, I only had two day to prepare.  I had no copies of any of my books to bring.  On my table, I had only the library's copy of The King's Eagle, some stickers of the Death Magick cover, and 15 sheets of paper with my info on them.   I was all alone at my table and no one I know came to see me.  Talking to strangers was very hard, especially when I tried to tell them what my books were about. I don't know whether I was interesting or not.  I tried to read people's faces and body language, but that isn't my forte.  I can't read subtle nonverbal cues at all, and I only know that because of what I've been told.  I don't know what I miss unless someone tells me, and even then I will almost certainly miss it again.  I did better than I expected with the socializing though, even without Klonopin.

Faces are a mystery.  I see expressions but I don't notice them.  Smiles are obvious, but people don't generally try to hide smiles.  They want to hide boredom, and I imagine that I'm very boring.  Minds are mysteries, too.  People are like frozen lakes.  I can't know how deep they are.  Now and again I see something moving just under the ice, but I can't reach into them.  I know academically that there is complexity to everyone that I can't see, but academic knowledge of others is cold when you're up close.  I can only speak into others through murk and a frosted sheet.  Is this how everyone feels all the time?

The hardest part of today was figuring out how to summarize my stories.  Talking about deep or advanced themes seems to be a bad idea.  It appears that people want something quick and simple.  That's what gets their interest: a hint in a flash.  Near the end of the fair, I think I was kind of getting it.  I started to feel like I was seeing through the ice a little bit, but I can't be sure.  Did I see interest?  What contributes most to these difficulties is that I can't even see what I'm looking for.  I'm always guessing, and I can't ever know if I've guessed correctly.  High-functioning autism is all about uncertainty.

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