Breaking Boundaries: My Journey into Deaf Magic and Sci-Fi Fantasy

Let me start by saying this: I suck at science. Always have, probably always will. But I’m completely obsessed with science fiction. Writers like Octavia Butler and N.K. Jemisin? I worship their work. Sci-fi queer short stories? Love them. Afrofuturism? Give me all of it. Their stories don’t just entertain me—they ignite my imagination, inspiring me to wonder: What would this genre look like if it was all Deaf magic and sci-fi? What if the major historical events of our world had occurred within Deaf communities, reshaped by their unique perspectives, challenges, and triumphs?

That question led me to my first attempt at writing sci-fi fantasy. Spoiler alert: it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

The Struggle of Creation

When I started drafting this story, my thoughts were all over the place. I couldn’t make it flow. My brain was teeming with ideas, but they wouldn’t cooperate enough to land on the page in an organized way. I spent so much money on beta readers and editors—people who were patient and brilliant. I’d read their feedback, nod furiously, and think, Yes, that makes total sense. But getting my thoughts in order? A totally different story.

This project ended up being my longest piece of work ever. I’d get excited and dive in, pouring out scenes that felt alive. And then, inevitably, I’d hit a wall, get bored, and rewrite the whole thing. Over and over. I’m not going to lie—there were times I felt incredibly self-conscious. Sci-fi feels like the ultimate genre to me. The top tier. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t doing it justice, that I couldn’t wrap my head around it the way other writers do.

Eventually, I started leaning into fantasy elements. It felt more natural, more “me.” When I read my drafts, I realized they leaned heavily toward magic rather than tech. Maybe one day I’ll fully embrace sci-fi, but for now, I’m happy to exist in the in-between space where sci-fi and fantasy meet.

My Favorite Project Yet: Ma'Hil Nayce: Keeper of the Unbroken

This story is my baby. It’s set in a world I’ve been dreaming about for years, one where Deaf and disabled identities are centered and celebrated. The main character, Ma’Hil Nayce, is a DeafBlind trans person—a leader in a resistance movement in a reimagined version of Old Buffalo, NY, now called Rivermoss. The story mostly takes place in Eldervale, a small town on the outskirts, 90 years after The Unbinding. This era marks the beginning of decolonization, landback movements, and a shift toward environmental sustainability.

Here’s the premise:

In the oppressive world of Eldervale, the Council is pushing for something called “UnDeafening”—a horrifying process meant to erase Deaf, Blind, and disabled identities, turning people into obedient subjects stripped of their community and culture. Ma’Hil, a member of the resistance, has already lost someone dear to them—Nia, a fellow activist who’s been captured by the Council and subjected to their experiments.

As Ma’Hil fights to save Nia, they uncover something groundbreaking: the Council’s power is intrinsically linked to the magic they’re trying to destroy. This magic, once wielded by oppressed communities, is the very source of the Council’s control. It’s a race against time as Ma’Hil and the resistance work to protect their world, their identity, and their right to exist on their own terms.

Why This Story Matters

Writing Ma'Hil Nayce: Keeper of the Unbroken was a personal journey. It’s about resistance, identity, and the courage to fight for a future where everyone is seen and valued. For me, it’s also a love letter to the Deaf community and all its intersectional brilliance—the joy, the resilience, the defiance in the face of systems that try to erase us.

It wasn’t an easy project to write (as I’ve mentioned), but it’s my favorite so far. Ma’Hil is a character I poured my heart into—someone who embodies strength, vulnerability, and the fierce determination to protect their community. And while the story might lean more toward fantasy, its sci-fi elements remind me that I don’t have to fit neatly into one genre or another.

Maybe one day I’ll write a full-blown sci-fi epic. Who knows? For now, I’m proud of this story and what it represents. It’s messy, it’s magical, and it’s me.

UnDeafening: A Story of Hope and Resistance

If you’ve ever felt like your voice doesn’t belong in a particular space or genre, let me tell you—it does. Sci-fi, fantasy, whatever you dream up, there’s room for it. For me, blending Deaf magic, resistance, and Afrofuturistic elements into a story like Ma’Hil Nayce felt like carving out a piece of that room for myself. And I hope it inspires others to do the same.

Because at the end of the day, storytelling is about connection. It’s about imagining worlds that reflect our own struggles and triumphs—and dreaming up ones that are even better.

Let me know if this feels authentic to your voice or if you’d like to tweak anything!