I'm writing a book about a teenage boy who becomes a quadriplegic in a bike accident at 14/15/ before he has the chance to do any real dating. The boy will be a HTM-Chadlite for purposes of the story. His injury condition will be such that he can still feel arousal and the desire for girls, but he's unable to act on it because he can't even move his arms. He has to go through highschool as a special-ed quadriplegic, witnessing everyone else live their lives to the fullest, knowing he is forever locked out of that world. I'm imagining a movie adaptation of the book, where it shows him in slow mo arriving for his first day of school, and all the Chads and Stacies are making out in the hallways. He is forced to watch from his little cuckwheel chair as he zooms by knowing that could have, but isn't him, nor will it ever be.
I'm thinking of calling it "raging hormones". It will be a recurring theme in the book that he has "raging hormones" but is unable to act on them in any way, shape, or form.
The reason this book will be so effective at engendering normie support is because everybody feel's bad for a disabled person, especially a quadriplegic. Normies won't be able to say "well he's an entitled inkwell!". He's a literal neckdown quad trying to navigate life and is yearning for the life he will never have. Of course Incels don't have it quite that bad, we can still move our arms and legs, but the mental anguish of FOMO while your peers move on without you is nevertheless torturous.
I'm thinking of calling it "raging hormones". It will be a recurring theme in the book that he has "raging hormones" but is unable to act on them in any way, shape, or form.
The reason this book will be so effective at engendering normie support is because everybody feel's bad for a disabled person, especially a quadriplegic. Normies won't be able to say "well he's an entitled inkwell!". He's a literal neckdown quad trying to navigate life and is yearning for the life he will never have. Of course Incels don't have it quite that bad, we can still move our arms and legs, but the mental anguish of FOMO while your peers move on without you is nevertheless torturous.
