Thursday 19 October 2017

Ready Player One by Ernest Cline

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9969571-ready-player-one


Ready Player One is like being immersed in an awesome massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG) and reading a wonderful book simultaneously.

On a dystopian Earth, destroyed by a global energy crisis, the only thing left for people is the online utopia of the OASIS, where you can do anything, be anyone, where the lines of distinction between a person’s real identity and that of their avatar begin to blur. When the creator, James Halliday dies, he leaves behind the biggest Easter egg hunt the world has seen. The prize: ownership of his vast fortune and total control of the OASIS.

Wade Watts is just one of the many ‘gunters’ (those who have devoted their lives to Halliday’s hunt) and since it was announced five years ago, he’s learnt all he can about the god among geeks, the nerd uber-deity on the level of Gygax, Gattiott, and Gates: James Halliday.

When Wade deciphers the location of the first clue and is awarded the Copper Key, the first of three, his avatar ‘Parzival’ shows up as the first name on the scoreboard. Passion for the hunt reignites. Hot on his heel are thousands of competitors including the Innovative Online Industries (IOI) who, in Wade’s words, want to turn the game into a fascist corporate theme park where the few people who can still afford the price of admission no longer have an ounce of freedom. Wade soon realises that the IOI will stop at nothing to control the OASIS, and when he can’t be bought to their side, everything he has is threatened.

I was late coming to this book, originally published in 2011. It was the name that drew me in, and the frequency in which it was appearing in recommended read lists. I was not disappointed.

It’s not science-fiction, it’s not fantasy, but it is. Think ‘Enders Game’, think ‘Surrogates’, ‘Gamer’ and ‘Westworld’. The front cover quote says; ‘Enchanting. Willy Wonka meets The Matrix.’ It’s all comparable, but nothing I know is like this book.  It’s a smorgasbord of ‘80s pop culture. There were so many references it didn't matter that I didn't get half of them. Joss Whedon eat your heart out.

It’s not a hard read, it’s a simple plot – good versus evil. Moving from the real world into the action-packed OASIS is seamless. The descriptions of the world outside leave me wanting more, in a good way. I was genuinely anxious when I had to close the book because I was invested in the lives of these characters.

I haven't been this excited over a book since I read Transformation by Carol Berg. For me, like that book, this one is a game changer.

This book was amazing. I read it in a few days. I didn't want to let it go. I can't wait to hand it around to my friends and family so they too can share my excitement.

Read this one.


Saturday 1 July 2017

FTM Magazine Article

I am officially a published author...

Originally published on https://ftmmagazine.com/ (HERE) on 10 April 2017, the link is no longer active, so I am posting my article here:

Self-Harm, Transition...

It was never a choice. I did not one day decide to be a boy. One day I simply allowed my true self to come into being. | Erik Garkain



My body is scarred.

From my shoulders to fingertips, under my clothes, over my chest, my stomach and my legs – all support a tracery of scars inflicted through deliberate self-harm. Self-harm had been a way for me to release emotional pain and stress: the only way I could feel in control of my life.  It made me feel alive. It made me feel something, not just so disturbingly numb.

If you could see under my shirt, you’d see other scars too: surgical scars that helped salvage this life. I have two identical scars curving from my armpits to my sternum – double bilateral mastectomy with chest reconstruction; and, a horizontal 20cm scar underneath my belly, just above my pubic line – total hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy.

Ten years ago I was living a completely different life. I was bordering on my 21st birthday, working with the elderly in an aged care hostel, and, at the beginning of what would become a five-year relationship of relative heteronormativity.

I was also a girl. I often wonder if my self-harm was a consequence of my latent gender dysphoria?

I was male on the inside. It was a feeling I hadn’t come to accept, or believe could be fact. I was carrying a weight that I’m sure rings familiar with anyone who has borne the confines of a closet. My ‘closet’ was an identity I had been taught, not one that was true. The hormones were wrong, my body was wrong; it had bits I couldn’t associate with, it did things that terrified and disgusted me.

Coming out was a challenge. I have always been shy. I don’t often speak up, even if I have something worthwhile to contribute, so, to come forward to the people in my life with something so personal, was a terrifying prospect. When you come out as trans, it immediately cultivates all sorts of unwanted and personal intrusions: Is it a sexual thing? Does that mean you’re gay, or straight? Do you like boys or girls now? Are you pre-op or post-op? What have you got ‘downstairs’? And my favourite: If you don’t have a penis, you’ll never be a ‘real’ guy. But I shouldn’t have worried. My family have always been supportive, my sisters – amazing. I don’t often give people a chance to be anything else. If they want me in their life, they will respect my choices.

Strangers are harder. Historically gays have been persecuted by just as much misunderstanding and judgment as the transgender community, but a lot of trans people feel ostracised in queer safe spaces, as if we don’t belong. A lot of the discrimination I have had has come directly from the gay community: My choosing to be male didn’t make it so because I would never have a penis.

It was never a choice. I did not one day decide to be a boy. One day I simply allowed my true self to come into being. I would never choose to become a second class citizen; to open myself to discrimination and hate with possible abandonment and rejection from family and friends; to jeopardise my job security; to lose the right to marry; or, risk ever finding a partner who could accept me… None of this is anything I would willingly choose. It was simply the next step of my existence, and it was always going to happen.


Looking back this past decade, to the start of my transition, the doubts were strong. But now I can see what I have achieved. Physically and mentally I am in the happiest place I have been. As each day passes, my confidence grows, and with it, strength to be who I really am, and that is a wonderful feeling. If I could go back, I wouldn’t change my journey, because changing that would change the essence of who I am. But perhaps some words of solace for the darkest of nights: You’re not weird, you’re not crazy, and these feelings, they won’t go away. Don’t listen to the people in your life that want to make you feel worthless. Don’t listen to the people who want to tell you who you should be. Listen to yourself. Only you know how you truly feel. And yes, at times it will be tough – out on that ledge, exposed to the world – but you need to be yourself. That is where your happiness is. You are better than you think you are. You are great, and people love you, for you.