This post is part of The Magic Between Us series, an exploration and analysis of characters in the Stories of the Eleriannan series.
Emmaline Waters is one of the characters we’re introduced to in Cast a Shadow of Doubt, and she’ll also be the main focal character in my upcoming, as-yet-unnamed Eleriannan novel. When we meet Emmaline, she is a talented writer for a local magazine, but she’s isolated from much of the world because she’s chronically ill, with an unidentified disease. [I vaguely imply that it’s a form of IBD but it’s never spelled out in the text.] She manages to leave her house regularly by spending time each day in a nearby cafe where she can comfortably observe people and write about them, but she still deeply feels the othering effects of her disease. I left the specifics of her diagnosis ambiguous so that all the chronically ill folk out there have the possibility to feel seen—but her experiences are definitely based on my own.
She is a strong person who struggles with the limitations that chronic illness places on her. Being forced to contemplate her own mortality, she’s got an accepting, open personality and that allows her to get close to Camlin, who is otherwise isolated, angry, and defensive. In turn, Camlin learns to be open to caring about someone—especially a mortal—outside of himself. Early on in their friendship, he tries to baby her with a clumsy attempt to take care of her needs without asking her directly what would be best. She firmly shuts him down, bruising his ego, because she knows that if she doesn’t nip that kind of uninformed attempt to be “helpful” in the bud, it would become a big problem. Not only would it foster an imbalance of power between them, if she allowed it to persist it would eventually frustrate her to the point that she would lose the relationship. At first Camlin is insulted, but he learns from the incident and it deepens their relationship along with his respect for her. Her openness and determination to maintain boundaries helps Camlin begin his path to redemption.
When her illness takes a turn for the worse, Camlin knows he’s risking everything by taking her to The Maithe to beg them for help. If you asked him if he was afraid that they’d take his life, he’d shrug that off. He already assumes that might be the price for saving Emmaline. What he feared more was losing his relationship with her by interfering. But he does it anyway, because she needs someone at that point to fight and advocate for her. This action and its potential consequences are what start the whole plot of Cast a Shadow of Doubt.
But even more importantly than Emmaline’s illness and Camlin’s sacrifice to win her a cure being an inciting incident, I gave her a magical “cure” because WE FUCKING DESERVE ONE. It’s rare for folks with chronic illness to get anything resembling a cure in real life, despite all those happy people dancing around in pharmaceutical commercials. Sometimes the illness goes into remission, but at this time most of the major chronic illnesses don’t have a cure. Crohn’s and UC sure as hell don’t.
She’s not *fully* cured, I should add. She still gets tired, and can be frail at times. She can do extraordinary things that require strength, but she often pays for it. But she’s my character that holds out hope for those of us who have very little when it comes to getting a cure.
She also represents people like me who were poor and didn’t get the care they needed, and when they finally did, were told there wasn’t much to be done. It almost kills her. If you know anything about me, you’ll recognize that story. Money always talks and that’s true in the medical industry as much as anywhere. Those in higher tax brackets often get better, more complete treatment and monitoring, and sometimes quicker diagnoses. Poor folks are more likely to be dismissed, ignored, or given up on when the easiest answer turns out to be wrong.
I believe in representation in fiction.
Representation of health challenges and chronic illnesses is complex. It includes people who are living with their medical issues, disabilities, mental illnesses and more, and those people can be angry, content, resigned, proud, or any combination of those and more feelings that I haven’t mentioned. They may be struggling or fully adapted. All these situations deserve to be represented. I want to see the reality of living with mental illness, or using adaptive aids, or trying to thrive with chronic illness. Emmaline gets a “cure” for us but as I said above, it’s not actually a cure so much as it is a reprieve from death and an improvement on her health situation. She still has struggles and limitations, but she’s not using all her strength just to drag herself through her days anymore. She can put that energy to use in other, magical ways.
For Emmaline, she now has the space to discover who she is now that she’s not spending all her time just trying to drag herself through her day with as little pain as possible. That’s the true gift that the Fae gave her. And it’s also the reason why she has the magical ability to control plants: she’s able to nurture these small beings in ways that she was unable to do for herself, empowering them to grow strong and thrive. In return, they assist her when she needs it. She’s also an advocate for ill-regarded plants, ones that mortals look at with disdain or annoyance, if they pay attention to them at all. Her first plant connection is with a morning glory vine, a plant often looked at as a nuisance weed. She sees the inherent value in it just for being what it is, and in return it bonds with her. Emmaline never judges. That’s just who she is.
In the upcoming book you’ll learn more about Emmaline and join her in the journey to discover who she will be as she walks a new path from being defined by her chronic illness whether she wants it or not to learning how to step into her mantle of power.
I, for one, can’t wait to see which direction these changes take her.
