Chuck Wendig's Blog, page 206

The Silent Majority: Fear of Sexism is a Misogynist’s Best Friend

Like I said last week, I think part of the role of men in the discussions against sexism and misogyny is to be a signal booster — to help get the word of others out. Karina Cooper — author of the Dark Mission and St. Croix Chronicles books — said she wanted to continue the conversation about women in writing and publishing and the SFF genre, so here she is to talk more about what it means to stay silent in fights like this one:

Can I assume y’all know the history of the USA?  Can I go into this comfortable with the understanding that you’re familiar with Martin Luther King, Jr. and the civil rights movement in the 50s and 60s? Is that, I don’t know, a safe thing to assume?

I have to tell you, I’m just not sure. But because I’m not your mom and I’m not whatever teacher you probably ignored in school, I’ll spare you the summary. You don’t want to hear it from me, anyway. If you’re legitimately clueless, go do some reading. Yes, it’s Wikipedia—I’m not willing to strain anyone’s higher thought processes just yet.

Fast forward forty-five years. We’re still struggling with racial prejudice, but it is widely understood that a man who says, “I strongly believe darker-skinned people will lower the quality of this product” is tantamount to labeling himself the white supremacist fuckless wonder that he is. We have seen evidence of this just recently, yes?

So, that in mind: Would one of these rabid, woman-hating trollskins explain to me how “girls are making sci-fi worse” is any different? I mean, aside from the obvious, which is that one involves people with different color skin than yours and the other is naturally more inclusive, since it involves people of all color… who just happen to have vaginas.

Maybe you, dear reader, missed the memo. If you’ve been absent from the internet for the past forever, here’s a quick refresher: some people think women shouldn’t be writing “real” books, playing or designing “real games,” or speaking about anything at all. Some people, a great many outspoken people, are convinced sexism doesn’t exist.

Guess what? We have always been fighting this fight.

No Girls Allowed

For decades, women and people of color have been barred from the SF/F community due to, I don’t know, some perceived fear of cooties—or a petrifying fear of change. The people refusing them entry—primarily white men—routinely forced authors who weren’t white men to hide behind pseudonyms, behind false biographies, and refused to publish stories that attempted to feature anyone other than white men as heroes.

In the year 2013, this has not changed all that much. It’s not “PC” to bar people of color anymore, but they certainly continue to have a litany of problems going on—usually couched in more subversive terms involving “quality” and “experience.”

The issues women are having, however, seems to come straight out of the lexicon the civil rights movement deemed incorrect for public use—it’s like watching a particularly surreal episode of Mad Men, only everyone’s in jeans and on the internet. For example, in order to get any “credit” (from men, the dominating force in the literary world), women are forced to hide behind initials, or crowbarred into the romance or chicklit genres “where they belong.” They are groped by famous male colleagues, and they are ignored or jeered at on panels.

“But wait, there are all kinds of women published!” you might point out, and you’d be right. There are all kinds of women published. There are all kinds of women in the gaming field. Those who work hard are extremely well-respected, too, for—oh, wait. No, they aren’t. Really, anywhere.

You know what we ladies who are authors and gamers get? Unending amounts of shit from dickstroking mouthbreathers, an avalanche of vile abuse spewed from internet communities filled with spermslugs convinced that they are God’s gift to all who earn their attention. That they, in their tiny little worlds with their tragic lack of a loving orifice that doesn’t come shrink-wrapped in plastic, are the rightful inheritors of multi-million dollar industries—the keyholders to future generations’ creativity and imagination.

And you know what? They are right.

Despite the fact that female gamers make up 47% of the gaming community, despite the fact that women are award-winning authors, we are threatened with rape and violence if we dare to speak up about how we’re treated, by troglodytes so afraid of change that they’ll shout as loud as they possibly can just to get the rest of the world to shut up. They are so awful, so offensive, that the rest of the world looks away with a knowing, “Don’t feed the trolls.” They see the reprehensible behaviors of these soggy foreskins, say with feeling, “Aren’t you glad that’s not me?” and go about their merry days as if that takes care of that—and that, babies, is why it’s working.

Because the only way to avoid feeding the trolls is to be silent—and these trolls are growing up to run your world.

Proud and Not So Loud

If you’d be so kind, take a look at this reasonable and extremely logical post by Chris F. Holm—a fine author in his own right—and you’ll see he promotes two sound concepts. The second is the most important: be kind to one another, punctuated by a Vonnegut quote that has me calling everyone “babies” when I’m feeling philosophical. But a glance down to the comments mirrors what’s being said in Der Wendighosten’s G+ page: it’s so much better to read a book because of genre, quality, and style than it is to read a book because of gender, and so choosing a book because of gender is just another form of sexism.

Naturally, no one reading a book for quality is a bigot—you certainly can’t be blamed for any prejudice when you’re not paying any attention to the gender, color, or lifestyle of the author. And certainly, being told what and what not to read, for any reason, is anathema to cultivators of book libraries around the world.

The dialogue then becomes something like this: “Of course sexism is bad, that’s why I’m not interested in reading or acquiring books by women just because they’re women—I don’t want to be sexist!” And so the person justifying this pats themselves on the back for being an evolved being, shares some companionable nods with others like them, and lives a happy life knowing they aren’t misogynistic or prejudiced or bigoted. Which is a lovely ideal, but have you finished reading about the civil rights movement yet?

As I recall from my education in the subject, I don’t believe any of the civil rights supporters were saying things like, “Well, naturally, racial prejudice is bad, that’s why I’m not interested in showing people of color any favoritism by shopping at black-owned stores just because they’re black-owned.” In fact, I’ll wager this sort of thing was often said by white people unwilling to make the effort—or to accept the nature of equality at all.

Can you imagine how the civil rights movement would have stalled without open and deliberate support by everyone who claimed to be so open-minded?

I admire Chris a great deal, and hope to one day live the philosophy he shares, but I obviously disagree with him on various executions—primarily, that grace and dignity will see us through the unending amounts of abuse we receive. As far as I’m concerned, centuries of grace and dignity has landed women in this mess. Like my feminist forbears, it’s time to burn a few “foundation garments:” starting with the concept that the silence of good people is any support at all.

More Than a Dream

Martin Luther King, Jr.’s speech was not one of waiting—though it was of dignity (okay, point for Chris). Where other revolutionaries and civil rights leaders pushed for violence, King pushed for the power and passion of speech—of “soul” force to meet overwhelming force. And he called on everyone to do it. He spoke of freedoms of color, of class, of religion.

King and the movement supporters pushed for active inclusion—standing side by side with the very same people who wanted them pushed down. He did not stop at penning dignified notes, he did not wait for the power of words to make it through the communities threatening him and those like him with violence. He gathered like-minded folks, that included the powerful voices of white supporters—political and otherwise—to help make it happen, to add their voices to his. To  bloody well say something.

Active inclusion, babies. It’s about one person—maybe you?—making the choice to pick up a book by a woman author and giving it a chance, and then treating that book like you would any other book. If you like it, pass it on with glowing recommendations—not because of how the author looks in a bathing suit, or what her genitals might be, but because it’s a good book. If you don’t like it, reasoning why, and have that discussion with your fellow readers.

It means that though you might make it a point to pick up a book because it’s written by a woman, a person of color, a man, an LGBTQ author, you’re passing it on and talking about it because it’s good. Because the author moved you. Because regardless of why you originally grabbed it, the book made you feel.

It’s about adding your voice to support women in gaming, women in writing, women anywhere—just like we would for anyone else. Because if you think this isn’t about you—if you think that I’m only talking to the sad little boys lodged in their circle jerking internet communities, convinced that “cocksucker” is an insult while desperately hoping to meet a real life woman they don’t have to threaten to rape to get some—you are sadly mistaken.

There are literally thousands of men ready and waiting to be unleashed on women like me. Men and boys who make a game of rape threats and violence, who will be spooged out of whatever black hole they dribble from, screaming that I am a threat—that I don’t deserve to live, that I should be raped into silence, that I’m just a bitch and should shut up. These are the same assholes raising boys who think it’s okay to call an eight year old girl a “cunt.”

But I know—I know—that there are thousands more of men and women who are remaining silent, because they know they aren’t among the trolls, that they’re not sexist, that they don’t want to be sexist. And because they know that, they’re content to simply be.

“Simply being” is not enough.

The Loudest Voices Shape the World

We like to look back at history and say things like, “Gandhi had it right.” We like to suggest that the best way to evoke change is to live quietly, live by example. To quote an erroneous and useless bit of drivel: “be the change you want to see in the world.” They fling this around like it’s gold and fail to remember that part of being that change is taking the opportunity to make a difference, not sit back and “not engage.” We like to think that passive protests, protests without deeds or words, are a thing of peaceful power.

We are wrong. Even Gandhi believed in refusing to bow one’s head—even at the cost of one’s life. And he wasn’t alone; or did you forget the thousands who supported him?

As long as good people are willing to remain silent—to look the other way, shrug and laugh and say, “It’s just trolls,” then people like me are forced to write things like this. As long as people are content to passively protest sexism just by not engaging in it, people like me will continue to feel unsafe at cons,  on the street, at parties and in bars, in the movie theater, and—thanks to the pervasive abuse, in our own homes. (Side note: the first person to suggest that there’s no reason to be “that hysterical” gets a goddamn boot in the back of a Volkswagen.)

In the industry I work in, I found that when authors—primarily men, but not always—thought I was a reader, they were all too happy to talk with me about various sci-fi and fantasy subjects, geek hobbies, and the like. As soon as the dreaded, “What do you do?” question cropped up, I’d answer, “Oh, I write romance!” That shut the conversation down. At the nicest, I received a very sweet(ly condescending), “That’s great, honey, good luck with that.” At the worst, a laugh and, “Oh, Christ.”

So I learned how to talk about what I write in ways that don’t use the word “romance”. I spoke of action and adventure, crazy conspiracies, love and loss, blood and murder. At least three different times, men have asked me with great interest where they could acquire my books. When they realized Avon was the publisher, I was given eerily similar versions of: “Oh, I thought it was a real book.”

I have been forced to endure painfully personal questions about my sex life, my fantasies, any regrets that I’m married to a single man and can’t really experience all that’s out there to write about it—“write what you know,” to this day, remains one of my most violent rage triggers.

You know what I don’t hear? Anyone asking George R. R. Martin if the rape sequences in Game of Thrones is based on personal experience. I don’t hear anyone credible asking John Scalzi if the RT Reviewer’s Choice Award is a real award, anyway.  I don’t hear anyone critiquing Jim C. Hines for his outfit, Neil Gaiman for his lack of makeup of hair products. No one is asking Chuck if the sex in Blackbird is a fantasy of his—or if his spouse is laying him regularly.

You know what I’m asked? If I write “aggressive men” in my books, and if that’s because I have a secret fantasy of being raped. I have been asked if I write myself into all my heroines, because I just want a man to save me—or dominate me. I’m asked if my husband supports me by helping me “block out my sex scenes”. I’m asked if he’s “okay” with me being a writer—as if it’s a personal hobby or darling quirk. One fellow laughed when he heard how crazy my deadlines can be, expressing concern that I’m not “putting out” enough for my husband to make his tolerance of my writing worth it.

You know what I’m not asked? If men can put their hands on me—which they then proceed to do. Why? Because the pervasive mentality is that men write and women “engage in a hobby.” That we’re there to “spruce up the place,” to be “token girls,” to give an appearance of inclusion without having to actually commit. I am a piece of decorative furniture, there to give the audience—comprised of men and women, because money is money, no matter the wallet it comes from—something nice to look at. “Look, ladies, here’s one of you sitting among us real authors! Guys, don’t worry about her, we won’t ask her anything too tough.”

That’s the atmosphere that needs to change. Just as Chuck is not your toy—not your “token beard” to be admired, not your manmeat waiting with bated breath to be told how nice he looks in a swim suit—neither am I. Neither are any of the women writing and reading and gaming in this industry.

We Need Your Help

Change does not happen in a vacuum. For every person refusing to go out of your way to give a book written by a woman a chance, that’s a voice held in check, silent against the hatred and oppression barring our way.

We don’t need gender-blindness, we need awareness. We need help. Not talking about it, not acknowledging the problem, only feeds the same trolls hammering us down. As long as good men and women remain silent, convinced they’re not part of the problem, we don’t have the support we need to stand up to the misogynists shouting us down.

One day, we all will be on a level playing field, and then we can afford to be blind. One day,  women will be recognized for the qualities of their work and not the qualities of their bodies, one day people of color will be referenced first by their accomplishments and not by their heritage, one day LGBTQ people will be lauded for their achievements and not what they do in the bedroom—but this is not that day.

My plea: Give books written by women and games by and featuring women a chance. Give them the same chance you’d give a new genre, a new type of story, a game in general. Maybe you’re picking it up because it’s in your favorite genre and it’s written by a woman, maybe you’re reading it because some old guy said it was trash and because it’s written by a woman. Whatever the reason, let the motive for passing it on be this: it’s a damn good book or game, and you’d like to see more women who create like this get the same opportunities men already have to share it.

This isn’t about wars on the internet. It’s about acceptance—going a little further to give people struggling against obvious and sometimes violent oppression a helping hand. Where will it start, if not with you?

How Do You Like Your Eggs?

That sounds like I’m coming on to you, doesn’t it? I’m not, I swear. I respect you, Internet.

Normally Tuesdays are writing posts but last week was a little heavy and this week I’m on vacation so, you get a post about eggs. Chicken eggs, in particular.

I eat eggs every morning in some capacity. Farm-fresh eggs in particular. It’s interesting, actually, to see the shift in organic (which now doesn’t mean what you want it to mean) to free range (which used to mean that the chickens dined outside as wandering creatures but now means that someone opens a door and gives them the opportunity to roam free which they don’t do automatically because they’re not, uh, smart animals) to pastured or pasture-fed.

Mostly, buying fresh from a local farm undercuts all that. Because you can usually see the chickens somewhere in the distance, dicking around, being chickens.

Anyway. When out of season I do try to buy the “pasture-fed, not pumped full of exotic pharma-cocktails” type of egg, and in terms of taste it damn sure pays off. The regular eggs you buy — woo boy, I ate those for most of my life but had no idea. Those eggs are watery. Flavorless. Then you crack open a farm-fresh egg and it’s like, the yolk is thick and looks like a little sunshine. And the eggs taste like something. (Appropriately enough, a little like chicken.) And sometimes you crack open one egg and a little baby chick hops out and chirps at you and helps you with housework and dress-mending TRUE STORY SHUT UP.

Sometimes I make my eggs in the morning in a particular and perhaps peculiar fashion that is both simple and — at least, far as I know — unheard of. Not sure anybody else does this. Maybe they do and I have more people out there than I think. Here’s how it works:

I warm up a non-stick skillet (an omelette skillet) on medium heat and drop into it a glob of whatever Delicious Fat Product I choose to lubricate my food with. Butter is the obvious choice. I don’t eat vegetable oil because I’m one of those paranoid food types. Olive oil is a good oil but for me, not with eggs. I happen to recently like coconut oil for this purpose, actually — the blobs of white coconutty goodness bring a kind of sweetness to the end result (though any coconut taste is lost). Anyway: MELTY FAT GOODNESS.

Swirl the pan, let that fan run a few laps around the skillet.

Just after it melts, I crack a couple-few eggs into the skillet. For extra fun, draw a couple of googly eyes and a mouth frozen in horror onto the eggs, then crack them and mimic their screams. Then leave the shattered egg-skull fragments around for a loved one to find.

Anyway, point here is, you don’t want to drop the eggs into the pan so they’re suddenly sizzling and bubbling. You want to beat the heat a little, let the eggs warm up in the pan. BECAUSE IF IT’S TOO HOT YOU’LL RUIN IT LIKE YOU RUIN EVERYTHING ELSE. Ahem. Anyway, what you want is for the goopy translucent egg whites to slowly grow white — and when the pocket of goop around the yolk gets mostly white, that’s when you want to flip the eggs.

Now comes the weird part.

You let it cook another 30 seconds or so.

Then you take a fork.

Gently — as if performing surgery — make an incision over each yolk. Peel the egg back, exposing the golden sunshiney goodness. Use the fork or whatever other tool you so choose (spatula, spoon, hobo-finger) to spread the goopy yolk around over the top of the egg so that the majority of it is covered in a golden shellacking.

It’s like you’re bronzing the egg with its own insides.

This, by the way, is the time for salt and pepper.

Let it keep cooking until the egg yolk — again, most of which is now smeared all over the eggs — starts to firm up. It may almost start to look like it’s getting a skin to it. The goal is to stop it from turning yellow. You want the orange yolk to thicken, to tighten, but not go full bore. The taste is exquisite — like in that middle phase the fat and the poltry magic and the souls of all the incomplete chickens come together and –

*eyes roll back in head, begins drooling, moaning in eggy pleasure*

Oh. Ahem. Sorry. I’m back! I’m back.

This is probably some French technique that I just stumbled upon. Whatevs.

And so now I ask you:

How do you like your eggs?

Toss around some egg recipes. Let’s see ‘em. C’mon, chop chop.

Uh-Oh, Another Origin Story

Maybe you like origin stories.

The world certainly seems to like them well enough.

But I’m not a fan.

I in fact actively dislike them.

I pee on them. I make an angry face, and I pee on them.

Here’s why:

An origin story is all prologue.

It’s act one of a story stretched across the narrative expanse of three (or five, or seven) acts.

Just as the origin story ends is when I want to begin.

Note: an origin story differs from a story that presents a character’s origin. The latter is a tale whose primary plot is something else, but that may touch on or reveal the character’s origin in an oblique way — a side-angle, a sub-plot, a component that features but does not dominate. An origin story proper is where the character’s origin is the dominant sequence of events.

Origin stories frequently hit the same beats. Childhood. Before the powers and abilities. Gaining the powers and abilities. Learning (and failing to learn) responsibility with those powers. Epiphany and sometimes, apotheosis.

These stories are often reiterative and redundant. We know how Superman becomes Superman because we’ve seen it a hundred times. Same with Spider-Man (and they even rebooted that pesky web-head approximately ten minutes after we ended the last set of Spider-Man movies).

The more interesting stories frequently occur after the origin, and yet we remain subjected to the origin narrative over and over and over again.

Imagine if we had to sit through a film before Die Hard where we have to first learn how John McClane becomes the alcoholic hero-cop — his youth, his training at the academy, his time as a beat-cop. (There’s a comic book series that covers this, I believe; I don’t know if it’s worth checking out.) Is it necessary? Would it even be that interesting? Aren’t we better off just jumping into the story as it is? Leaving some open variables? Doors and windows yet to open?

Most aspects of an origin story can be embedded in a non-origin story. Flashbacks. Dialogue. World-building. We don’t need it to fill up two full hours of film.

Origin stories are expository.

Origin stories defeat mystery. And mystery is good.

Avengers is so much fun because it is not an origin story. We’ve gotten over all that stuff in the other films. (Curiously, of the new Marvel series, Thor really isn’t an origin story.)

The Dark Knight is a far stronger film than Batman Begins because we have dispensed with all the Stuff We Already Knew and got right to All The Awesome.

Origin stories are money-making plays meant to stretch out the potential narrative bandwidth. I’m sure if somebody could get away with an Iron Man Takes His First Dump story, they would have. (Hey, Hollywood – call me. I’m your Huckleberry.)

An origin story defies that old writing chestnut — “Start the story as late as you can.” I’m not opposed to defying traditional advice, obviously. You can do anything with a story and violate any rule and if you do it well and with aplomb, nobody gives a bag of koala cock that you did it.

That’s the thing. Some origin stories can and do work. The Star Wars prequels are a bad example, but the original Star Wars: A New Hope is a pretty solid example. I thought the first Iron Man was solid enough, though buoyed more by RDJ than by anything else, maybe.

All of this is, of course, IMHO, YMMV.

It is my cross to bear, this disgust toward origin stories.

And so I ask you:

What origin stories work? What ones don’t?

What would make an origin story better? What do we see too much of?

Noodle. Answer. I’ll sit here and stare at you, eating comic book pages like Communion wafers.

Holy Shitcrap This Movie Theater Is Too Fucking Loud

I WENT TO THE MOVIE THEATER AND I SAW MAN OF STEEL AND THE MOVIE WAS VERY FUCKING LOUD. IT WAS, YOU MIGHT EVEN SAY, “SUPER” LOUD. HA HA HA OW.

I FEEL LIKE I JUST SPENT TWO AND A HALF HOURS LETTING SOME DUDE YELL IN MY EARS AND PUNCH ME IN THE SIDE OF THE HEAD

DID A GRENADE JUST GO OFF

MY EARS ARE RINGING

I HAVE PTSD NOW

NEXT TO ME SAT A LITTLE GIRL — THIS IS A TRUE STORY, I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP — MAYBE EIGHT MAYBE NINE YEARS OLD AND THE WHOLE TIME SHE SAT THERE WITH HER FINGERS IN HER EARS. FOR OVER TWO HOURS. FINGERS! IN EARS! OCCASIONALLY SHE’D MAKE THIS SOUND LIKE SHE WANTED TO CRY? I’M NOT KIDDING THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

THEN ON THE WAY OUT OF THE THEATER THIS FAMILY OF FOUR — DUDE, WIFE, ONE BOY, ONE GIRL — WERE WALKING NEXT TO ME AND THE DAD WAS TALKING ABOUT HOW HE THOUGHT THE MOVIE WAS JUST OKAY AND STUFF AND THE LITTLE GIRL SAID: “WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU MY EARS ARE RINGING.” AND THE WIFE SAID: “THAT MOVIE WAS TOO LOUD IT WAS JUST NOISE AND FIRE.” AND I AGREED AND SAID YEAH, YEAH, TOO LOUD, AND THE HUSBAND SAID, “WE JUST DROPPED SIXTY BUCKS ON TICKETS TO WHAT FELT LIKE A METALLICA SHOW.” AND THE WIFE SAID: “I’M NOT DOING THIS AGAIN.”

I HAD EARPLUGS IN

I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT

I PUT EARPLUGS IN MY FUCKING EARS BEFORE I WENT BECAUSE I ALREADY KNOW THAT YOUR MOVIES ARE TOO GODDAMN LOUD AND STILL — STILL! — MY EARS ARE RINGING. THEY’RE MAKING THIS EEEEEEEEEE NOISE LIKE AFTER I’D GO SHOOTING RIFLES WITH MY DAD AND HE WOULDN’T LET ME WEAR EARMUFFS

TOO LOUD

CAPS LOCK

IT’S LIKE TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF CAPS LOCK

FUCK YOU MOVIE THEATERS AND I KNOW IT’S NOT EVEN ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT BECAUSE THE STUDIOS SET YOUR MOVIES AT A CERTAIN VOLUME LEVEL AND YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO FIDDLE WITH THAT SHIT BUT I DON’T CARE IT’S ON YOU ASSHOLES BECAUSE SOMEWHERE I’M SURE YOU HAVE A VOLUME KNOB HIDDEN BEHIND A GLASS BOX THAT YOU’RE ALLOWED TO BREAK IN AN EMERGENCY

WELL IT’S AN EMERGENCY

MY EARS ARE SQUIRTING BLOOD LIKE I’M A LAWN SPRINKLER

LOUD

LOUD

AAAAAAAA

CAPS LOCK ALL THE TIME IS IRRITATING ISN’T IT

TRY GOING TO MOVIE WHERE EVEN THE DIALOGUE SOUNDS LIKE SOMEONE HITTING YOU IN THE EARDRUM WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER

I’M DONE WITH YOU MOVIE THEATERS

DONE GAME OVER POOP NOISE

I HAVE A VERY NICE TELEVISION SET AND SURROUND SOUND

AND I HAVE A REMOTE CONTROL WITH A FUCKING VOLUME KNOB

AND I’M GOING TO USE IT SO I CAN SAVE MY HEARING

ASSHOLES

* * *

Postscript:

A brief Man of Steel review:

MORE LIKE MEH OF STEEL AMIRITE?

Ahem.

I mean, it was fine? I thought I’d hate it. But it was, y’know, okay?

Liked Cavill as Superman. Liked Amy Adams as Lois Lane. Really liked both, actually.

The Krypton prologue is assy because they basically retell the exact same story later in the movie when Superman finds the not-named-Fortress-of-Solitude and they retell it much faster and much cooler. Then the third act is basically an assault on the senses (I assume the script just reads BOOM KSSSHHH CITY CRAAAAASH PUNCH THROUGH BUILDING PUNCH THROUGH BUILDING PUNCH THROUGH BUILDING KAPOOOOOM RUN RUN EEEEEAAAH PUNCH THROUGH SKY PUNCH THROUGH SKY BADOOOOOM all in messy crayon).

They do the hard part, though, of making Superman a likable guy — a protagonist who feels very human despite all of it. Which is a shame that the rest of the movie kind of falls down into either a) boring origin story or b) noisy consequence-less apocalypse fight because it would’ve been rad to get more of, well, Superman’s character in there.

And that’s what it’s really missing. It’s missing that sense of character. It’s missing fun! The movie isn’t any fun. I’m okay with Batman not being a whole lot of fun (though even the Joker brings a kind of sociopathic circus tent with him), but Superman — I feel like it’s a dire shame to miss out on the fun and games portion of that story. Like, when he learns to fly, that’s what you get. That’s the most fun the movie ever gets. And then it’s all steely dire gray boom.

All of it is an origin story.

And origin stories are fundamentally flawed. Ninety percent of them are a waste of time.

So: meh.

And also:

TOO FUCKING LOUD

the end.

Flash Fiction Challenge: Bad Dads

Last week’s challenge: “ABC Meets XYZ“

All right.

This week’s challenge (up a couple days late since for some reason again WordPress borked me on a Friday where I was gone from the house, grarrrgh) is pretty simple: in the tradition of Don Draper, Tony Soprano, Walter White, or even my own Mookie Pearl (hint hint), it’s time to write a bit of flash fiction featuring a bad dad. These fathers fit on the lower more sinister echelon of the D&D alignment chart. The question is: can you also make them sympathetic?

You’ve got 1000 words.

You’ve got (less than) a week: due by Friday the 21st, noon EST.

Write at your online space.

Link back here.

Go and write.

Ten Questions About Ecko Rising, By Danie Ware

I gotta be honest — this is one of those books I’ve been waiting to read for quite some time. It’s got, as the kids call it, “buzz.” It’s now available in the States so that means my greedy little ink-fingers are gonna go get grabby. Here’s Danie to talk about the book:

Tell Us About Yourself: Who The Hell Are You?

I’m Danie, full name Daniella (don’t tell anyone) aka @Danacea. You’ll find me at the head offices of Forbidden Planet in London, or at home with my son. You might also find me on a bicycle trying not to get hit by London traffic, in a gym trying to beat the rush to an elliptical trainer, or, you know, in the pub.

I’ve been everything from a Viking warrior to a kiss-a-gram girl to a professional mathematician – and I’ve found out that I’m pretty happy where I am!

Give Us The 140-Character Pitch:

A little sex, a little violence, a little sarcasm – this is a tongue-in-cheek sideswipe at the genres we know and love!

Where Does This Story Come From?

From years of wacky creative projects with my mates, from endless evenings of throwing everything at the wall just to see what stuck, from the darkest depths of our sugar-fuelled imaginations. The core and concept of the story is more than twenty years old; it’s something I never really left behind, and something I had to come back to when I started writing again.

I guess I needed to let it out!

How Is This A Story Only You Could’ve Written?

Because no-one else has the mates I do! Humorous, but pretty much true – in our twenties we explored our collaborative creativity to its outermost limit. Some of it was genius, some of it was awful, some it exploded under the weight of its own pretentiousness and should never be mentioned in polite company again – but it’s all fuel of the best kind.

Though your question says ‘only you’… though perhaps any of that coterie could have taken the concepts we played with and breathed life into them!

What Was The Hardest Thing About Writing Ecko Rising?

Two answers to that question. The first one is Ecko himself, who can be both the hardest and the easiest thing to write, depending on mood. He’s angry, he’s vitriolic, he’s sarcastic – he’s that part of all of us that doesn’t want to do what it’s told, and, in the right mood, writing him is freeing, it’s a real rush. If I’m not in the right frame of mind, though, trying to reach for it is very hard.

The other thing has always been the sheer size and ambition of the project. There are several critical story threads that work right through the whole Ecko sequence and they needed to be woven in and together early on. This was a very hard thing to get right!

What Did You Learn Writing Ecko Rising?

Mostly, just how much work a book really is and how many people’s time and energy – and love – go into making it happen. You may have a book in your head, and you may be the one writing it – but it also comes to life in the hands of everyone that meets it along the way. From my mates at the beginning, to the friends that helped me start writing again, to the editors and the proof-readers and the agent and the publicist that brought it all to life. To the cover artist who drew Ecko and scared me out of my skin (he’d never looked back at me before), and to all the people who have bought it in the UK and offered feedback.

…the book you write is a piece of your heart – dark or light or any combination, it’s something of yourself and your soul. What I’ve learned is the absolute wonder that occurs when other people can see it too.

What Do You Love About Ecko Rising?

I love Ecko – he runs away with himself. He doesn’t care, does exactly what he wants to do and doesn’t give a toss about the consequences. This can land me in some interesting places as a writer, and sometimes I have no idea how to get out of them again… but there’s never a dull moment!

What Don’t You Like About It?

That’s a hard one! The honest answer to that one is that it’s nearly over – for me anyway as I’m finishing the initial draft of the third book. This idea has been with me for such a long time that I’m going to be oddly bereft when it’s over – and I had no idea where I’ll head next.

Though I’m sure every author must feel like that!

Give Us Your Favorite Paragraph From The Story:

…he tweaked back the edge of the curtain.

A slice of bright illumination made the colours of his skin recoil.

His oculars defending his vision, he looked out at the polluted, halogen-blazing –

The sky was dark, untouched by advertising – unobscured by clouds or buildings, by the Tate’s ever-cycling LED. It was pitch-black, crystal-vision clear and completely starless.

What?

That wasn’t right.

The moon was half-full, low, brilliant and shimmering silver. It was way too close and way too bright – that wasn’t right either. The second moon, a little higher and glowing a fantastic yellow-gold, was also half-full. That was getting beyond not right.

What freaked Ecko right out was that it was the other half.

What’s Next For You As A Storyteller?

The sequel, Ecko Burning, will be out from Titan Books in the UK in October this year, and I’m halfway through writing the third book of the sequence. After that, we shall see!

Danie Ware: Website / @Danacea

Ecko Rising: Amazon / Trailer

 

Why Men Should Speak Out About Sexism, Misogyny and Rape Culture

(Once again, trigger warnings.)

I guess THREE POSTS MAKE A SERIES, eh?

One last post on this subject, then I’ll cool it for a little while and talk more about story plotting or how to cook your eggs while using the requisite amount of egg-specific profanity. But I felt this needed to be said as it’s something I’ve been wrestling with over the last couple of days –

I posted the two posts over the last two days about this difficult and uncomfortable topic — the post itself and then the follow-up. And most of the responses are positive from both men and women. Overwhelmingly positive in some cases. Lots of signal boost and agreement and thumbs-ups and high-fives. So: YAAAAAY.

But I’m a guy. I say stuff like this, I get credit for being brave or standing up when I’m doing no such thing. I’m making a controversial argument from what is ostensibly a very safe position. I’m up here on Heteronormative White Dude Mountain (which is a very long name for this mountain so most people just call it “Mount Norm”) and few people dare to fling rocks up at Mount Norm where I sit on my comfortable chair made of Safe, Patriarchal History.

When a woman says stuff like this, they might also get credit for being brave and standing up, but then they also get a tide of venom sweeping over them –

Sometimes in the form of rape or death threats.

My goal isn’t to jump into this conversation and be all like, “DON’T WORRY, LADIES, I WILL OPEN THAT STUCK CULTURAL PICKLE JAR FOR YOU — POP! — THERE WE GO, YOU ARE SAFE NOW. CAPTAIN MAN-PANTS IS DONE HERE.”

Some have even raised the question of, should men say anything at all? Are we just muddying the conversation? Are we just continuing the cultural vibe that women need us to swoop in and save them? We’re the heroes, they’re the victims?

Here’s why men need to speak up:

Because solidarity. Men speaking up are choosing solidarity with the side of change and against the side of sexism and misogyny. If men don’t say anything, it sounds like they agree by default — or are at least not concerned enough to take those two steps up onto the soapbox. And it also sends a message to those rank, rancid assholes — “I’m not on your side.”

(Sidenote: that’s actually a thing about being a white dude. You sometimes get other white dudes coming up to you and in apparent confidence they start spilling racist or sexist shit like, without even knowing you. And when you react poorly they get this look like, “Ohhh, oooh, you’re one of them. See, I thought because we both had these KKK robes for skin we could talk about stuff like this but apparently you’re a Pod Person gotta go.”)

We don’t want the behaviors of this septic culture to become or seem normalized. If we’re quiet about it, we contribute to the normalization of misogyny or any of the other cultural poisons.

Like I said the other day, this isn’t about playing the hero — we aren’t going to fix it with our magical man-hammers, and women are not our Death Star Princesses to rescue. But we can signal boost. We can support. We can be on the side of the angels instead of the side of the diseased dick-bags (they don’t rate being devils, honestly) who want to trumpet their hate and rampant shittiness. We can try to do better and ask that others do the same.

Postscript: Speaking Of Rampant Shittiness

The anti-woman vibe amongst gamers is some of the worst out there.

This isn’t universal, obviously — a lot of gamers are awesome people. Most gamers, probably. But there’s a very strong and not necessarily small contingent of deeply ingrained awfulness out there. (It’s why I don’t generally get on Xbox Live anymore — I can only hear angry 13-year-olds spew toxic racist or homophobic slurs at me so long before I contemplate melting the console into slag and moving to some cozy island where I can raise sheep and tend a lighthouse.)

I actually tweeted about it, referencing the tsunami of hate (warning, reaaaaaaally triggery) cast at Anita Sarkeesian just for saying that none of the Xbox One game demos had female protagonists in them.

And lo and behold, just by invoking her name, I got some troll comments all my own.

My favorite (“favorite” being relative, mind you) was:

@chuckwendig anita sarkeesian sucks big fucking cock

— fullname (@steedsoftware) June 12, 2013

Now, at first I just assumed — well, here’s some chump with an egg-avatar on Twitter, so I’m going to look at his feed and it’s going to be puerile boy-rage all the way down. Oh ho ho, no. You look at his feed and what do you see? Someone who wants to work in the game industry.

My deepest hope is that this little human turd would never be allowed through the gates, but then again, given some of the behaviors not only of gamers but also the game industry, I can’t be sure that @steedsoftware won’t one day be among those Captains of Industry.

Point being –

There is work yet to do.

Challenging Responses To Sexism And Misogyny

Yesterday I wrote a thing about sexism and misogyny (and rape culture and slut shaming and, and, and) inside writing and publishing. And it’s generated some good discussion and, more importantly, discussion that was fairly well-mannered. You know, mostly.

Just the same, I’ve seen some response around These Olde Internets that have me cocking an eyebrow so high I think it’s floating above my head by about six inches, so I think I’ll take a short post to address some of those responses. I’m not going to call out individual responders –I’ll just generalize the comments and offer my own in return.

Again: potential trigger warning.

“He’s Just Doing This For Attention.”

Well, duh. The purpose of the blog isn’t to fall down a dark hole where nobody will read it. I’m throwing it out onto the Internet! A magical, unreal, ephemeral place driven by the Attention Economy. Of course I want eyes on the post. Of course I want attention.

I want attention on it because it’s something I believe in. And I think it’s a conversation we need to have. I know, I know — you think I’m self-righteous or alternately that I’m just doing it to capitalize on page views. Newsflash: I can’t do anything with page views. Like, they don’t each become a Mario Brothers coin that bounces into my wallet. I can’t eat page views. I’ve tried. On yesterday’s post I purposefully left out any of my normal shilling self-promo book links at the base of the post because I didn’t want to sell books merely by dint of waving my arms and getting attention about a controversial topic.

This is not the first time I’ve spoken out about issues that affect me, or affect publishing, or affect my friends and acquaintances and idols in publishing. If I am compelled by an issue I’ll talk about it. And I’m glad that it got attention. That’s the purpose! That’s the goal!

“But Women Sell Well And Look At All Those Lady Authors!”

…oh. Oh. Oh! Damn. That’s a pretty good point, I guess. The bestseller list has women on it. And certainly the bookstore is full of books by women. Well. Huh. I guess we’re done here, then. SHUT IT DOWN, MIKE. CLOSE UP THE BLOG. LOCK THE DOORS.

I hope one of you will coordinate the parade! I demand ponies.

Oh, wait.

That doesn’t fix the problem.

You mean the cultural problem still persists regardless of dollar signs and bestsellers? You mean all the problems I mentioned yesterday — cover design and panel inequality and creepers and rape culture and institutionalized bias — still happen anyway?

WELL, SHIT.

As I said in the post yesterday, this is a crap argument. So stop making it.

“But What About The Men?!”

The men are fine. Not to be crass (though when has that stopped me before?) — men basically have this stupid fleshy protuberance in their pants that often acts like a Key to the Kingdom. It’s weird, but it means that we’re doing just fine in writing and publishing. Don’t derail this conversation and make it about you, Guy Who’s Not Successful Because He’s Not Very Good But Wants To Blame It On Women Because It Distracts From His Rampant Inadequacy.

Point is, my post was not about making writing and publishing better for men.

Because, c’mon, son.

You wanna write that post, hey, go for it.

“No, Really, You’re Being Sexist Toward Men!”

Oh, fuck off.

Sexist toward men?

Are you shitting me?

I saw way too many people say that my post was sexist because it didn’t present a balanced view — despite being a post with the word “misogyny” in the title, not “misandry” — and now some dudes are doing exactly what I said they’d do, which is pout and stomp their feet because they’re not allowed up at the podium. Guys, you get the podium all the time. Particularly us white dudes. It’s time to share. It’s time to let go and let some other kids play with your toys.

When you see someone with a sucking chest wound don’t cry about the splinter in your thumb.

You want to write the post about how you’re being oppressed, hey, find your own corner of the Internet and scream it so the cheap seats can hear.

You’ll forgive me if I stay over here.

“Women Should Just Fight Back!”

Another sentiment: if women want equal treatment they need to fight for it.

This presents a number of problems as an argument.

First, it assumes that they aren’t fighting for it already. (And they are.)

Second, that fighting for it frequently translates to, “Kick him in the balls,” or “Get aggressively up in his face.” Now — I admit, if some guy is getting grabby whether it’s on a panel or in an elevator, I am all for you turning his wiggly bits into cock-smash pate. But this is often presented as a response to instances like when women are demeaned on a panel, or when, say, Harlan Ellison grabs Connie Willis’ breast on stage. You do realize that being too aggro, particularly in public, can end poorly for the woman, right?

Third, the idea that if you don’t fight back, you basically agreed to let it happen. Never mind being overwhelmed by fear. Never mind being uncertain how it will affect you professionally if you say something and make waves. Never mind a cultural bias that suggests women should just shut up and suck it up (see Betsy Dornbusch talking about how one author cherishes Barbie as a noble image for little girls because Barbie maintains her “quiet dignity”).

“There Are Better Posts To Read On The Subject.”

Yes! There are! Which is why I linked to several of them yesterday.

“This Is All Politically-Correct Clap-Trap.”

My post referenced a “panty tornado.”

I have little interest in political correctness.

I have little fear of offending. My books can be very, very offensive.

I have quite a lot of concern over being hurtful, on the other hand. Because there’s a lot of hurt going around in this world and I don’t find it valuable to add to it.

This isn’t about being politically correct.

This is about correcting a grave imbalance.

For the record, nobody actually said the word “clap-trap.” That one’s all on me because it’s a great word and we don’t use it enough shut up no you shut up.

“But It Doesn’t Serve The Story!”

Worst excuse ever.

I hate this excuse. I hate it like I hate the DMV, hemorrhoids, airline travel delays, and bad coffee. I hate it because it suggests that writers are not in control of their own stories, that they are merely conduits for some kind of divine unicorn breath, some heady Musefart that they can’t help but gassily breathe onto the page. I AM VESSEL. STORY IS LOA.

I hate it because it absolves you of ever having to change anything — whether that means changing a character’s race or sex or even just making edits to improve a story.

I hate it because it allows you to rely on lazy crutches, institutional biases, stereotypical culture patterns, and a whole lot of horrible shit-ass storytelling.

I hate it because it excuses you from making effort or taking responsibility.

Like I said yesterday — I’m not saying you have to make every story some kind of Social Justice League, some weird Pokemon grab where you make sure your story has one of everybody who’s different from you. And I’m not saying you can’t tackle challenging issues like rape culture in your fiction. The goal is to not play into those lazy habits, those stereotypes. The goal is to not exploit, to sexualize, to contribute to the overall pattern of a world where Middle-Class White Dudes are the speakers and the listeners. The story doesn’t control you. You are its boss.

The audience would much rather you be confident and responsible than a lazy shrugging half-wit who falls into the river and lets it take him wherever it goes.

25 Things To Know About Sexism & Misogyny In Writing & Publishing

This is one of those posts where I worry about putting it out there — like, I wrote a book, Blackbirds, which features a female character who some reviewers have suggested makes me a misogynist but other reviews have suggested makes me a feminist. And I worry, “Shit, am I gonna write a post like this and offend somebody? Will I lose a reader? Ten readers? A hundred? What if I’m so blinded by my own bullshit I say a bunch of stupid stuff?”

Because that totally happens. I totally do that sometimes.

Still, it feels to me like, if I’m worried, then maybe it means I should post it.

So, this stuff is all part of a conversation. Not a list of proclamations. Not a face full of holy writs. But these are the thing I’m thinking. Let’s put it out there and see what happens.

Potential trigger warning.

1. Sexism Totally Exists

I know there’s someone out there saying, “Wait, is this really a problem? Sexism and Misogyny in writing? In publishing? In science-fiction and fantasy? Are you sure this isn’t just a small bunch of very loud women with their panties all whirled around in some kinda panty tornado?” And there I’d correct you and note that I am a dude and, in fact, my panties are indeed whirling about in a panty tornado because this is a problem in our respective industry and it sucks. I’ll gently point you in the direction of Ann Aguirre’s post (“This Week In SF“) and Delilah Dawson’s powerful followup (“Why I’m Writing This Now Instead Of Two Days Ago“) and you’ll start see just the teeniest fraction of the iceberg poking out of the water.

2. Let’s Define Our Terms: Sexism & Misogyny

Sexism is discrimination and prejudice based on sex. (In this case, toward women.) Misogyny is like sexism on steroids — sexism that has completed many of its prejudicial quests and has leveled up – ding! — and become full-on anger and hatred toward women.

3. Why I’m Writing This Post

I am a young(ish) white dude in America — and in fact I am a soundly middle-class white dude in America — which makes me a very lucky fucking ducky. I’m not quite as lucky as say, a rich white dude in America, but hey, whatever. So, you might wonder just why I’m writing this post. After all, one would think I am best served by keeping my own young(ish) white American dude interests at heart. If writing and publishing is tilted favorably toward me, well, maybe I’d be best served by shutting my fool mouth and riding this sweet, sugary wave to its conclusion. Nnyeaaaah, no. I think the community is broken. And if the community is broken, all members are, too. That means me. That means you. I want a healthy writing and publishing environment and that doesn’t mean ignoring other groups to make my group look better. If we are to assume that we’re all on the same team, the same boat, the same Galactic Arcology drifting toward our star-born utopia, then I want everybody to be treated equally and treated well. I mean, I have a wife. I have a mother and sisters. I want a daughter one day. I don’t like a world where they’re less than me. I don’t like a world where they’re targets and victims. And so, ta-da. Here I am.

4. Yes, Publishing Has Lots Of Women (And That’s A Shitty Argument)

One argument I’ve seen suggests this is all a big buncha poopnoise because writing and publishing is chock full of women. Lots of women writers. Lots of women editors and marketers and in libraries and bookstores and, and, and. LADIES EVERYWHERE, YAY, EQUALITY, WE CAN ALL STOP TALKING ABOUT IT NOW. Yeah, that’s a shitty argument. Having a majority presence sadly doesn’t mean a bucket of llama spit. Outside of writing and publishing women are 51% of the populace — and yet they still get paid less, they still suffer the brunt of rape culture, they still get treated like lesser even though numerically they are no such thing. That’s not an argument of value, so stop making it. Frankly, it doesn’t matter of women are 5, 50, or 95% of the audience; they’re people that deserve the maximum respect afforded to everybody.

5. Diversity And Kindness Are Products Of Effort

I talked about Genderflipping Doctor Who last week and, besides some of the hate mail (yay hate mail) I also saw some truly bizarre reasons given for why we can’t have an actress fill the role. Some folks shouted tokenism — which misunderstands tokenism at a fundamental level. Some folks shouted that it should serve the story and not just be a “gimmick” — as if an actor in the role is proper but hiring an actress for this flesh-shifting time-traveling chaos-theory-in-action-character would just be a stunt. Some folks said it should happen naturally, that it should serve the story — as if the story is its own magical creature that will one day evolve to embrace an actress in the role, as if these things happen all on their own and without human meddling. They do not. Diversity does not occur in a vacuum. Defeating sexism is not the default mode or it would’ve happened already. We want to evoke diversity in writing and publishing, don’t we? Then it happens with choice. With agency and action. It happens when you make it happen, not when it happens on its own. Fuck inertia. Enact change by MAKING THINGS HAPPEN.

6. I Believe The Children Are Our Future

All this shit starts when we humans are tiny. I have a two-year-old son. Boys get the BLUE STUFF. Hard. Steely! Naval. Girls get the PINK STUFF. Soft. Squishy! Fleshy. Our son loves trucks. You think, “Oh, this is genetic. Boys are biologically attracted to boy things.” Until you see him playing with little girls and the girls are all like, “YEAH TRUCKS ARE AWESOME, MOTHERTRUCKER,” and that dashes that idea into itty-bits. Then you go to buy books and you see it translates there, too: the blue, the pink, the trucks, the dollies. So you realize, this boy/girl thing starts early in terms of writing and publishing. And that means it’s where you have to do some damage control early. Let your boy play with dolls. Let your girl read about trucks. Teach them early on to respect each other and everybody else. (AKA: “Hey, kid, don’t be an asshole.”)

7. The SFWA Thing

Recent SFWA kerfuffle: in an SFWA bulletin featuring a chainmail bikini girl on the cover, a couple old white author-mummies kicked their way out of their dusty old sci-fi tombs and said something like BLAH BLAH BLAH THEM LADY AUTHORS AND GIRL EDITORS SURE LOOK GOOD IN BIKINIS and that was I guess their idea of being progressive and inclusive? Then their cranky pants got all constrictive when people (understandably) complained and then the old mummies were like SOMETHING-SOMETHING CENSORSHIP. I dunno. Creepy, right? Whatever. Point is, this is a professional organization that serves a very significant genre. That’s not awesome behavior. What is awesome, however, is that instead of just letting this slide, lots of folks inside and outside the SFWA got pissed, got vocal, and made a difference. Tuck that lesson away.

8. Dangerous And Needless Distinctions

Seanan McGuire, the SFWA’s official Murder Princess and my own Spirit Animal, said unsurprisingly smart things here about what it means to highlight women for their appearance or to highlight that they’re women at all — meaning, “lady authors” or “lady editors.” She says:

…women get forced to understand men if we want to enjoy media and tell stories, while men are allowed to treat women as these weird extraterrestrial creatures who can never be comprehended, but must be fought. It’s like we’re somehow the opposing army in an alien invasion story, here to be battled, defeated, and tamed, but never acknowledged as fully human.

9. On Display At Conventions And Conferences

The most grotesque and overt displays of sexism and misogyny is at conventions and conferences. Genre conventions in particular often have panels with a strong imbalance leaning toward DUDES and where said dudes often speak over any of the women on those panels. It’s also where you get creep-a-holics coming up on women as if they’re predators stalking gazelle on the veldt. Last year at WorldCon I watched a dude literally hit on a girl passing him by as he went to the elevator (and here’s why we don’t ‘hit’ on women, FYI); it was painful and awkward and creepy, like he was just desperately trying to find a place for his penis to live for a while, as if the woman wasn’t a person so much as a wandering dick receptacle. Then, at BEA this year, I passed by the booth of a venerable publisher only to hear an old and presumably important dude laud his female staff by, of course, talking as much about their beauty as he did their abilities in their field. (Imagine if he did that to guys, too: “John, you’re a great editor, and your ass looks like gold in those chinos, my friend.”) We counterbalance this by making sure women get represented on panels equally. And by making sure they work on staff, too. And that we treat them with respect and not like targets or victims or booth babes.

10. The Problem With Chainmail Bikinis

Isn’t just that they’re impractical (uhh, which they are). It’s that, it looks like this is how we see women — as foolish, impractical objects with gravitationally-irrational kickball-bosoms that are in fact the only thing on the woman worth defending from blade or arrow. It’s the same thing with the leather-clad urban fantasy covers or the spine-bending contortionist Catwomen on comic book covers. We’re saying that the only thing we as authors and publishers and even readers value in these theoretically strong female protagonists is their, erm, various “assets.”

11. The Coverflippers

Maureen Johnson issued a challenge not long ago where readers gender-flipped book covers — they answered the call in hilarious and eye-opening ways.

12. The Hawkeye Initiative

And, as a follow-up to that: the Hawkeye Initiative takes comic book covers and panels of female characters in, erm, extreme poses and then redraws them with Hawkeye doing them instead. It’s awesome and hilarious but also does a good job at illustrating the absurdity. Oh, see also, the masterful Jim Hines on his own cover posing efforts.

13. Sexuality Versus Sexualization

On the other side of things you have slut shaming, where women are made to feel lesser for their sexual choices (or, worse, for being sexually assaulted). It’s easy when criticizing covers (as above) to make it sound like slut shaming: “Those women are too sexy on those book covers, they should be all covered up LIKE PROPER MENNONITE MOTHERS.” The difference, I think, is between being sexual and being sexualized. The former is under the character’s (or author’s) control — the latter is controlled by someone else. Criticizing the sexualization of women has merit; criticizing the sexual nature of women is fucked up (and is slut shaming).

14. The Bechdel Test And Beyond

The Bechdel Test is a test applied to pop culture properties and stories to see if it meets a minimum requirement for not being completely dismissive of women. The test is: a) does it have two or more women characters [with names] in it? b) do they talk to each other? c) do they talk to each other about something other than men? The Bechdel Test is not the end-all be-all for making sure your work is representative of strong female characterization (strong as in, complex and compelling rather than can karate kick a vampire), but it’s a good entry-level test. And it’s still amazing how many major works of pop culture fail it twenty years later.

15. The Nature Of Rape In Fiction

Yes, you can write about rape. Saying you can’t write about rape as a subject of fiction is the same as saying you shouldn’t talk about it at all — which is a dangerous supposition to make. That said, you need to look at how you handle rape. Is it just another plot point? Is it exploitative? Is it an easy and lazy crutch in a genre where it’s used too often? Is it made to be more titillating than horrific? Rape is not just a throwaway topic. Realize that some of your readers may be the victims of sexual assault. Consider how you want to speak to them as your audience and how you want them treated in your fiction.

16. So You’re Tired Of Hearing About Rape Culture

I’m just going to leave this here then.

17. The Role Of Men In This Conversation

The role of men in this conversation is definitely not to be a bunch of pouty shouty poo-poo faces who start yelling about how they’re oppressed too and something-something our-poor-penises. But you can swing too far the other way, too — the role of men in this conversation is also not to be the swooping swinging heroes who need to jump into the fray and save the Poor Widdle Women. Women are not our damsels in distress. We are not rescuing them from the onrushing train of sexism and misogyny (I’LL SAVE YOU FROM THE ANGRY OLD SCI-FI WRITER, LITTLE NELL). Our job is to facilitate the conversation and to foster a healthy, safe, kind environment. Our job is to signal boost and to cheerlead awesome women and, ultimately, to not be dicks about any of it. Can we just say that last part again? DON’T BE A DICK KAY? Kay.

18. It Starts Inside Publishing

Hey, Giant Monolithic Publishing Industry: a lot of this starts with you. It starts with you having women across all the roles of your company, and that doesn’t just mean editors or artists, but also as authors, as CEOs. From the mailroom to the boardroom: up and down the pike.

19. And It Continues Inside The Books

Like I said, diversity doesn’t just happen. It isn’t the natural evolution you’d like it to be — you don’t one day just step into strong female characters in your books and wonder how the fuck they got there. You write them in. You put them there as author. None of this bullshit of — “Well, only if it serves the story.” Hello, you’re the DEITY CONTROLLING THIS PLACE. It serves the story when you jolly well say it does. You write the story. It does not write you.

20. And It Continues Outside The Books, Too

It’s about book covers. And booksellers. And librarians. And readers. And cosplayers. And convention-goers. It’s about ensuring that everybody gets to play. It’s about making sure we’re talking to our whole audience and that we’re not contributing to a culture of imbalance and victimization and prejudice. This is lateral. This is everywhere. Pay attention.

21. Check Your Shelves

Many years ago I looked at my bookshelves and I saw they were mostly male authors sitting there. Er, I mean, books by male authors — I didn’t have like, Neil Gaiman and Stephen King crouching there like creepy black-clad gargoyles. I’ve since made a concerted effort to put many more women authors on my shelves, so much so that I probably read as much by women as I do by men. Look at your shelves and if the ratio is out of whack — er, put it in whack, goddamnit.

22. Speak To Your Entire Audience

This is very simple: remember that you’re not just talking to people like you. With your work you’re (ideally) talking to everyone. So, try to imagine how your work will translate. Does it compel? Empower? Does it diminish? Does it perpetuate stereotypes or dangerous cultural aspects? This isn’t about being politically correct. Politics can fuck off. Real people are out there. How are you reaching them? How will they read your work?

23. Works Across Racial, Religious, Gender, Sexual, Economic Boundaries, Too

This isn’t just about sexism. Obviously the brunt of this list is written that way but you could pretty easily rewrite it to include folks of different race, religion, gender, sex, sexual preference, or economic class, too. Nobody’s asking you to be perfect. But it can’t hurt to try, can it? You don’t need to be an avatar of social justice, but a little inclusion is good for everybody.

24. If You See Something, Say Something

I hate to borrow a twee saying from our Masters at Homeland Security, but when you see inequality, it’s time to kick up some dust, time to throw a little sand. To borrow another twee sentiment: all evil requires is for good folks to stand by and do nothing. All sexism needs to thrive is for good people to do the same. Which is to say…

25. This Is Not A Time To Be Quiet

Those who resist these conversations often make a weak-boned play at having a point but it’s often frequently geared toward shutting the conversation down. You can feel the vibe — they don’t really want to debate the points so much as they just don’t want there to be a debate at all. Which is why this is precisely the time to have these debates. Change happens through noise, through wild gesticulations, though these kerfuffles both on the Internet and in meatspace. Like Delilah Dawson says: “Being quiet doesn’t get results.” So, this is not a time to be quiet. Strides are being made. So keep making them. Keep taking those steps. Keep waving your arms and pointing out bullshit when you see it. Nobody’s saying we’re going to get through this comfortably — but we’ll get through this long as we keep making noise.

Time To Totally Judge Some Books By Their Covers

Book covers, man.

Tricky business.

Subjective, for one. In theory, book covers are art (or are supposed to be) — and everybody responds to art in different ways. We like certain colors, dislike other colors. We respond to images a certain way — with love, with attraction, with revulsion, with curiosity.

Then you add in the complexity that different genres have different “cover tropes” present. Sometimes paranormal romance or urban fantasy has the leather-clad heroine or hero (sometimes turning so as to demonstrate a leather-clad asscheek because, I dunno why — do they fight vampires and werewolves with their asses?). Space-driven science-fiction often has to have a spaceship on the cover or, I dunno, people freak out and burn down the bookstore.

Plus, covers are changing function. Digital books still have covers but Amazon’s demonstration of them is often as a thumbnail (though that appears to be changing, as my Amazon for print books now shows a cover on display that’s much bigger). Further, it’s interesting that digital books still have to have cover-shaped covers given the fact they never actually have to be printed out, but I guess if they don’t fit the Kindle screen, the world will explode.

(Then you add in super-extra-crazy-complexity once you add in gendered cover concerns like what Maureen Johnson was highlighting with Coverflip.)

So, I come to you readers and writers and ask:

What works for you on a book cover?

Have you bought a book based on the cover alone?

What covers have worked?

Flipside:

What doesn’t work? What weirds you out on covers? Have you ever been put off by a cover?

LET’S TALK THIS THROUGH, PEOPLE.