Showing posts with label diversity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diversity. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Secretly Mastering Fandom

So I haven't said anything about this yet, partly because I was tired and lazy, and partly because I wasn't sure whether this was supposed to be an actual secret. But this past weekend, I got to go to SMOFcon in Fort Worth. The SMOFs, of course, are the Secret Masters of Fandom - a grand confederation of shadow-dwelling arch-nerds who have devoted themselves to running the non-profit conventions of the world. SFF literary cons, anime cons, gaming cons, you name it. If it doesn't have the word "Comic" in it, these guys are probably at the helm.

And my god, what ferocious captains of industry they are!
Needless to say, I am a tiny, soft-bellied smofling at best - but after hitting up so many conventions this year, it was a huge treat to get to meet some of the people who mastermind them, and spend a weekend talking shop: who's working on what, how the next WorldCon is shaping up, what's dying or coming back or getting good again. It was a convention planner's conference, so I packed my weekend with panels about hotel relationships and guest policies and scheduling apps, and took copious notes at every one (and I realize that probably sounds boring as hell, but let's just say it's been awhile since I've been this excited about programming.)

And yet there was a tension to it all that I didn't expect - maybe the love-hate culmination of a whole year's worth of con-going. My new friend Linda Deneroff expressed it best, I think, when we were talking about the difference between our community and the big media cons: she said, "we operate on a different economy." As in, ours is a culture of volunteering: we're not in the business of charging for autographs or herding 20,000 people through the turnstiles, and except for whatever premium we pay to get George R. R. Martin on the premises, nobody involved nets a dime.

Part of a tribute to Peggy Rae Sapienza - our fannish bodhisattva.
You won't see this at Comic-Con.

That is an amazing thing. I am just absolutely overjoyed and delighted to belong to a community of giving - to be surrounded by people who donate literally years of their lives to creating something for everyone to enjoy. I love our culture of generosity and camaraderie - how we set out free hot dogs and bowls of cheesy-poofs in the consuite so people can eat without killing their wallets, how you can meet The George in the bar or at a panel or wherever and just hang out, how people will host room parties to advertise their con/event or just for the hell of it, and throw the doors wide open for anyone to come and enjoy. It all makes for this delightful, hugely addictive atmosphere, and I'm just massively in love with it.

This was part of the video archaeology project - restoring footage from years past.
The panel on the screen was from a discussion on feminism at the 1976 WorldCon
- which inspired the creation of WisCon.

But the thing is... it's one thing to donate your time. It's another thing to rely from top to bottom on a comprehensive system of unpaid labor. (And I'm not singling out fan conventions here - writers conferences do it too.) From organizers to boots-on-the-ground henchpeople to guests and presenters - nobody gets paid. Ever. And I mean, I get it: that's what keeps the cost down, so the event stays accessible to everybody - or at least as many people as possible. But here's the kicker: we're kind of failing on the 'everybody' front. Those corporate big-box media cons beat the pants off us here. Comicpalooza and A-Kon and Dallas ComicCon are full of young people, small children - whole families. And they aren't nearly as monochromatic.

Maybe it sounds crass to count census demographics. It's a little hypocritical to criticize a surfeit of squishy white people when you are one. But the town, city, and state I've lived my whole life in are all 40-50% minority, and it never stops feeling weird to go from the huge mix of everyday folks around me to a con, or to workshop, or to a writers conference, and find myself in a venerable white wonderland. It feels like the other half of the world just got quietly filtered out while I wasn't looking - like they just disappeared.

Which is a big reason why the 1956 Hugo Awards...

...still look a whole lot like the 2013 Hugo Awards

More importantly, and more to the point: this is SUCH an awesome community, and I really want it to become as inclusive as it's trying to be (and it IS trying). I want it to be a place by and for all the fans, not just one where they're all theoretically welcome.

I don't blame the SMOFs for that (though I wish there had been some substantial discussion of these things at the con). Honestly - it's a weird, broken world out there, y'all, and not surprising that our social microcosms still reflect that. Race and age and money and the luxury of time - they're all part of the same big ugly muddle that's still tripping up our whole society, and sometimes it's hard to have any hope for improvement. Sometimes you just get so swept up in the joy of seeing the people who ARE there that you don't notice or think about the ones who aren't.

But I tell you what: the power of nerd-love built this house, and I believe it can open the doors even wider. The people I hung out with this past weekend raised this community up from the foundation - from the first tiny Star Trek conventions and fanzines to the massive, million-dollar WorldCons we put on today. They've done phenomenal work in forging this space, and wide-eyed nooblets like me have already benefited enormously from their efforts. If we carry the torch even half as far as they have, we'll have something even more incredible - a worthy legacy for their work, and a community that continues to honor the forward-looking dreams of all the best science fiction.

After all, we're nerds. The future is what we do.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

The WorldCon is Not Enough

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Well, it's probably a little of both: after a month of couch-surfing, con-crashing, clan-bonding fun in the Pacific Northwest, I'm finally home again. I don't think the cat remembers me, but we'll work on that.

If you look closely, you can see the banana peel on the back of the Prius.
Because we're Thompsons, and this is how we motherfucking roll.
Anyway, so WorldCon.  Look, I don't need to tell you that I had a terrific time. I might as well tell you that I metabolize oxygen. And I don't need to tell you that this year was a hugely political and contentious one for the Hugo Awards (because if you know what I'm talking about, you're already sick of hearing about it, and if you don't, have a Wired article.)

And yes, it is AWESOME that two translated works got the Hugo. Yes, it is GREAT that Helsinki won the bid to host in 2017. And I am absolutely delighted to see women and minorities receive more critical attention for producing truly master-class work. All of these are tremendous achievements, and part of what I hope will be a larger continuing trend.

But I don't think we can act like we just blew up the Death Star.

The thing is, WorldCon itself is still a huge ivory-tower event. It always has been. It has to be. A ~$200 ticket, plus airfare and hotel and meals for the better part of a week practically guarantee that anyone not within driving distance will be dropping at least the better part of a grand on this event.  It's great that you don't need to attend to vote on the awards - but that $40 supporting membership still means that we're only hearing from people who can afford to drop $40 in the ballot box.

With that said, the Gallifreyan contingent may be saving significantly on travel.

As Selina Rosen put it on Facebook (lightly edited by yours truly),
WorldCon is for people with lots of disposable income. It's for the big pros, the big publishers, and the big fans. It's not for people like me. [...] For me, a WorldCon is a huge affirmation that I have failed to make a name for myself in the business, and it has cost me more than I will ever make back. Most of the debt I have left to pay is because of the many WorldCons I attended. 

So I get it that you're all having a good time and that so many of you wish you could be there. I'd rather stay here and stick twigs under my fingernails, thank you very much.
And y'know, she's not wrong. The only reason I got to do this is because I signed with a publisher who could afford to pay me a good advance, and because I have a lifestyle that allows me to stuff that advance in a big sock and spend it all on traveling and self-promotion. I've truly enjoyed getting to be a part of this club, but I'm acutely aware that there are many, many people who are getting caught behind the velvet ropes, and I'm one bad die-roll away from being one of them.

And to be clear: this isn't strictly a WorldCon issue. Movement takes energy, which costs money. Space costs money. Time costs money.

To be fair, the wildfire smoke and eerie Kryptonian sun were complimentary.

So at the end of the day, any event that requires in-person travel is going to exclude a whole lot of people. Thus it has ever been. If we have a reason to feel better about this now than in decades past, it's because the Internet is helping us broaden the conversation to include the people who can't be physically present - and that is a great thing.

But speaking as someone who got to watch the Hugos at WorldCon and simultaneously follow the online feeds, it feels to me like what we have is two different conversations - maybe even two different communities.

From everything I saw, the mood at the event was overwhelmingly joyous. The people in my posse were ECSTATIC that Laura Mixon won. We were DELIGHTED for Wes Chu, and Wendy Wagner, and Julie Dillon - because for most of us, those people are our colleagues and friends.

By contrast, most of what I saw online was about who lost. The Puppies lost. Bigotry lost. Slate voting and awards-gaming and the Evil Empire lost. The virtual conversation seems to be much more about promoting ideas than individuals - and if we are talking about an individual, it's usually to rip them apart.

And of course, this is hardly an objective analysis. Everything I see and hear only amounts to a single anecdotal data point.  But I worry that the convention-going subset of our community is diverging significantly from the rest. It bothers me that the online medium seems to reward hyperbole, stifle nuance, and feed anger. And I hate that the forum where we get to see each other face-to-face, where we're naturally prompted to treat each other as real human beings, is also the smallest and least accessible.

I talk a lot about 'getting on the wagon', but a con lets you
and Team Novelocity literally GET ON THE WAGON.
This is fantastic! I want this for everyone!
I don't know how to fix that. I do know that I want to keep supporting causes like Con or Bust!, that work to bring fans to conventions, and throw more weight behind traveling circuses like WorldCon, WesterCon, and NASFiC, that serve to bring conventions to the fans. And I want to work on my digital game, because I know I'm missing out on a ton of cool people that I won't get to meet in meatspace.

I also know that it's my bedtime in at least two time zones, so I'll close here. All navel-gazing aside: thanks for a grand time, world-conveners. Until our next great conjunction...!


Be excellent to each other.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Guest Post: Straight From the Marginalized Horse's Mouth

Well, guys, it's like this: when somebody as devastatingly great as Ally Bishop says, "hey, there's this really cool guy I know, and you two should totally share crayons and trade pudding cups"... you listen.

And when he turns out to be William Galaini, you make everybody else listen, too.

See, it turns out that William and I have a lot of the same ideas about fiction - about what we love to read and write, about who's not showing up often enough on the bookshelves and how we can help be part of the solution, even though we're both members of an already well-represented cultural majority.  (That sounds so much better than "raining down social-justice hellfire from my privilege-encrusted mayonnaise throne", doesn't it?)  Spoiler alert: you really can't do a good job writing about other people if you haven't ever stopped to listen to them.

Anyway, so William's been out practicing what I've only preached, and I am so, so excited that he's agreed to come practice HIS preaching here on the blog.  Take it away, buddy!


Straight From the Marginalized Horse's Mouth
by William Galaini

The imagery evoked from the word ‘diversity’ can be overwhelmingly… diverse. This is understandable given the breadth of sexualities, ethnicities, religions, physical conditions, and ideals that comprise the human condition. But culture, novels particularly, has yet to catch up. ‘Diversity’ is a buzz word at conventions and perhaps a signpost for quirky genre-fiction, but we have yet to see the larger scope of writers and publishers not only explore the ocean of diversity but embrace it.

Tex wanted me to do a blog post for her. She wanted it to be on diversity, and my publicist encouraged me to do so because my new novel due in November has a homosexual main character.

But I’m no authority! I’m as vanilla as it gets. I’m a white, heterosexual cismale with daddy issues and high blood pressure. Truth is, I have zero right to assert any thesis on bi-sexuals, asexuals, trans-sexuals, homosexuals, women, men, etc. 

So I went to the experts. I found three souls who are directly connected with the issue of diversity in pop literature but to protect their anonymity, I will only disclose their gender and sexual orientation. I asked each of them the same five questions, and here are their answers:

1.)    How is your sexuality represented in pop literature?
a.    ‘Billy’ is a demisexual transgender male: “My sexuality is not represented in pop literature. In fact, there's very little light on demisexuality at all, and I've never ever read of an asexual (which is similar in some aspects) character in mainstream literature.”
b.    ‘Katie’ is a bisexual female: “It really isn't. I have yet to read a ‘popular’ book (or any book, really) with a character that even slightly represents my sexuality.”
c.    ‘Noah’ is a homosexual male: “I don't think it is represented in pop literature.”

2.)    In what way did public school literature influence your exploration of your sexual identity?
a.    Billy: “I don't recall it ever influencing me to explore my own sexuality. Outside media (I wouldn't exactly call it literature) prompted me to explore myself far more than anything I ever read in public schooling. Though, that's assuming I did most of the readings.”
b.    Katie: “It didn't. There were never any class assigned books mentioning anything about relationships past the lines of: the guy gets the girl, and there was much rejoicing.”
c.    Noah: “If anything, it's hindered it. There's not much of a sexual side to public school literature, but when there is it's always the annoying cliché of the guy gets the girl. Rejoicing.”

3.)    What would be the most AWESOME protagonist you could imagine that would represent YOU?
a.    Billy: “Oh jeez. Honestly, I would like to see a man portrayed as asexual, or demisexual. I'm not sure who, as it would take a considerable amount of thought. Perhaps someone of influence, whether it be a warrior or military personnel. A president or a prime minister. Someone with the power to do with as they will. Those who are often viewed as sexually deviant because of their position.”
b.    Katie: “Honestly, I'd rather have a character that represents me be the antagonist. But, as far as protagonists go, a girl that isn't really wimpy or overly touchy-feely about most things would be a great start.”
c.    Noah: “I can't think of a PROTAGONIST that is a selective extrovert, very sarcastic, doesn't suffer fools, and is smart, to be perfectly honest. (That sounds stuck up-ish, but I feel it's accurate).”

4.)    Why do you not encounter more sexually diverse characters in mainstream and genre novels?
a.    Billy: “I think because it doesn't appeal to the masses, to read of someone perhaps loving someone of their gender, or being open to loving someone of their gender. With a majority of our population being heterosexual, it's easier for the readers to identify with a heterosexual protagonist, when they inevitably find someone and fall in love. It gives it that extra sense of normalcy. I've only ever read one pop culture series that has an openly gay couple whose story is not abandoned or tossed around like dead weight. It was approached with care and a realness to it. However, it was side characters, so it was only a small story arc, but it was there.”
b.    Katie: “Because sexually diverse characters don't represent the majority of the people reading those types of novels.”
c.    Noah: “Because sexual diversity isn't necessarily mainstream; by the act of making a character sexually diverse, the chance of a book becoming mainstream is significantly reduced.”

5.)    If every single author and publisher was reading this, what would you want them to know about diversity?
a.    Billy: “I would want them to know that sexual appetite is not the solitary fuel to a character. As a writer myself, I try to focus on those of the lesser known orientations and genders. For example, take my own sexuality into view. I'm demisexual, and hardly anyone knows what that means. Even with a proper explanation, it can be taken entirely out of context. My sexuality means that I cannot find someone sexually attractive until I first get to know them. And then, maybe, just maybe, I might find them attractive sexually. Hence why it is either often confused to be asexual, or I've actually been asked "So you wanna fuck all your friends?" No. That is not what my sexuality means. It just simply means that I am sexually attracted to personalities, not bodies. And even though I have figured this out, I still question it. I still wonder if maybe what I feel isn't sexual attraction, and I'm really just asexual. Or if it's my gender getting in the way of my sexuality.”

b.    Katie: “I don't think it's really their fault, to be honest. They're writing to the largest part of their audience, meaning they only have a select amount plot lines, stereotypical characters, etc. to choose from. Straying from those options don't usually work out in the author's favor, so every book ends up being the same to a certain extent. But it is a little disheartening to not be able to find a character that I can truly connect with.”

c.    Noah: “I don't feel it's necessarily the author's or publisher's fault for there being a very obvious lack of sexual diversity in literature. Most authors will write what they know will sell, while settings and names may change, rarely is there an original plot. When you add diversity, sexual or not, it makes it difficult to use time-tested plots. But I would say to come up with original plot lines that don't require the use of hetero-normative and/or cisgender people.”

So, what can we learn from this? Let me speak from the perspective of a vanilla American male. Here’s my takeaway:

•    MANY of the books we read exist for money. They are written by money and for money. Money typically does not represent human diversity. Money represents money.

•    These three people are amazingly gracious about being overlooked on a consistent basis. Has our society conditioned them to accept being ignored? How have I, as a vanilla, perpetuated this either overtly or even covertly?

•    The Hero With a Thousand Faces really nailed a lot of the cultural impact behind the idea of a ‘protagonist.’ I greatly suspect that even Campbell would concede that it could be “Hero of a Thousand Genders” or “Hero of a Thousand Sexual Identities.” So why don’t we see more high-profile novels of this nature? It’s 'Hero with a Thousand Faces', not 'Hero with MY Face'.

•    Until vanilla people like me stop blenching at “diverse” protagonists in literature, these authors won’t be getting the exposure and support they should.

-WG


So there you have it, y'all: the bad news is that we still have a long, long way to go - but the good news is that every new kind of author or story you try, every new kind of person you (thoughtfully, carefully) include in your own writing, every time you step outside your comfort zone makes you part of the solution.

And if you're looking for something new, may I recommend William's Trampling in the Land of Woe? Frankly, he had me at "journey into Dante's steampunk hell" - but this time the hero is Hephaestion,  braving the city of the damned to rescue his soulmate, Alexander the Great, and I could NOT be more excited.

https://pubslush.com/project/4532


Seriously, seriously check it out - and while you're at it, head over to WilliamGalaini.com: he's got a wonderfully sharp and insightful writing blog, including an amazing 'how-to' series about how he successfully crowdfunded this book. Don't miss this guy, regardless: we might be too late to get in on the ground floor, but I bet we can catch him if we take the stairs!

-Tex

Monday, April 27, 2015

Con or Bust - Calling at Morganville, the Discworld, and Sixes

Well, at this point it's no big secret: I really, really, really like going to conventions.

And why wouldn't I?  I learned how to be an author at a con.

For my first-ever reading, it went pretty well!
And also how to be a fan.

My endgame cosplay scenario: Pam Poovey with a portal gun.
I've met amazing new friends at cons.

This is my legendary 16-bit buddy and pixie-lated musical genius, Lauren the Flute. 
Under Merriam-Webster's revised definition of the word "literally", she is literally a flute.
 And had once-in-a-lifetime experiences with old ones.

WorldCon 2013, DFW Writers Workshop contingent.
My first and sadly only time getting to hang out with Paul LaMarr.
As usual, Gabe stole the show.
Going to cons has become the absolute highlight of my probably-shouldn't-call-it-a-career-yet.  I seriously live for the weekends when work and writing and wifing all get kicked to the curb while Cinderella goes to the ball.

So naturally, I want other people to get to enjoy this weird, wild, nothing-else-like-it phenomenal good time that we call fan conventions.  I want a world where everyone has the opportunity to have a Disneyland-Hogwarts-Woodstock-carnival-prom experience of their very own.

We don't live in that world yet - but we are incredibly fortunate to have Con or Bust, a non-profit initiative that provides funding for fans of color attend conventions.  That means a great time for them, bigger and more inclusive events for con-goers in general, and ultimately a richer, stronger, greater community for everyone. 

"SWEET," I hear you say.  "How does it work?"

Well, Con or Bust raises money by accepting donated items - books, crafts, services, you name it - and auctioning them off.  This year, I am pleased as passionfruit punch to have goodies of my own to donate - and stoked as strawberry sangria to have a partner in crime.  Rachel Caine, New York Times bestselling author of the Morganville Vampires series and all-around phenomenal human being (seriously, guys, you are NOT prepared), has generously contributed a collection of rare, limited-edition books and merchandise to help further the cause - and all of it is going to the highest bidder!




Here's what we have (click each title link to go to its auction page):



The Morganville Vampires Superfan Swag Bag

Everything but a vampire's kitchen sink! (Cat not included.) You get:
  • an autographed copy of The Morganville Vampires, Volume 1
  • a pair of vampire bunny slippers (a.k.a. the “Rabbit With Big Pointy Teeth” slippers)
  • the Morganville: The Series paper doll book
  • “Common Grounds” coffee mug
  • lenticular double-wide Fall of Night bookmark
  • Morganville: The Series souvenir postcard
  • set of six Morganville temporary tattoos (all different designs)
  • Morganville Resident Identification Card
  • green rubber Morganville wrist band




Prince of Shadows Special Gift Set 

Buddy, this ain't your granddad's Romeo and Juliet. This is dark, thrilling, historical YA at its murder-in-the-alleys finest. You get:
  • a hardback copy of Prince of Shadows, signed by the author
  • a decorative hard-backed journal, with lined pages and a magnet flap
  • black and gold novelty book box with red faux-velvet interior (inside storage dimensions 11.5″ x 7″ x 2.25″)
  • blue ballpoint quill pen
  • 6″ heavyweight ‘rapier’ letter opener



One Night in Sixes - Rare Annotated Misprint Edition

This isn't just one of the rare first-edition British copies that got pulped and reissued when we (by which I mean my super-diligent Uncle Sandy) discovered a missing page.  This is a rare first-edition British copy that I've lovingly annotated with never-revealed series secrets, research notes, character trivia, and lore galore. It's cowboys-and-fishmen fantasy like you've never seen it before - with DVD director's commentary!





Manuscript Critique - Up to 10,000 Words

Want some help with your own magnum opus?  I'll critique up to 10,000 words of your original fiction, with your choice of either content, line, or copy-editing (see auction page for details).  Come, ambitious writers of the world - marinate your masterpiece in my delectable brain-juices!



And last but not least, in tribute to the late, great Terry Pratchett:




2015 "We R Igors" Discworld Diary

This is a new copy of the 2015 “We R Igors” Discworld Diary. It's a wonderfully designed hardcover book, featuring day-planner-style blank calendar pages alongside excellent illustrations and fun “flavor text” entries revealing the inner lives of the Igors – a true collector’s item.


Can you beat that?  At the risk of sounding competitive, I would submit that you cannot.  And you know what they say: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em before the auction ends on Sunday, May 3rd. Now go, gentle reader - visit the auctions, learn how to place your bids, and help make the world a better place for fandom!

Friday, June 13, 2014

Artificial Barriers to Entry, Part III: Astroturf and Rocket Ships

(Very-belatedly continued from Part I and Part II!)

All right, sports-fans - here is a fun fact.

Between 1928 and 1972, India won 7 out of 10 Olympic gold medals in field hockey.
Between 1976 to 2012, India won 1 out of 10.

Quickly, Robin - to the history books!  What caused this abrupt decades-long crash from a country that dominated this sport for half a century?  War?  Military coup?  Michael Phelps?

No, as The Atlantic reports.
...in 1976, the Olympics switched from natural turf to synthetic, which is far more expensive. All the Indian players who practiced on fields and grass patches were learning skills no longer suited to international competition, and only the communities with the money and will to build a synthetic field could train viable contenders. India has won only a single field hockey medal in the 40 years since it last competed on natural turf, priced out of a sport that had once brought it so much Olympic glory.
Not in the budget for the Hyderabad YMCA.
This story is unquestionably about money, which we talked a lot about in Part II.  But I also think it makes a good bridge to what I'd like to look at today: namely, how similar practices in the publishing industry end up likewise passively excluding entire groups of people.

So let's say you've trained up to the top of your authorial game.  You put in the 10 years of practice, wrote your million words of crap.  What you have in your hands is a gold-star manuscript: fresh, gripping, original, and immaculately edited.  With a spring in your step and a flutter in your heart, you decide to start querying agents.  What happens next?

Well, if you're like my one friend, you get a pile of effusive, glowing rejections, gushing about how much they love the story but "have no idea where they'd send it" because the one publisher they'd normally submit to "already bought their lesbian novel for the year."  (Which is a hell of a thing, considering your story is a straight-up thriller.)

If you're like my other friend, you shelve your dreams of a Mesoamerican fantasy that celebrates your origins, because Big Publishing is only interested if your book is loaded with gold and skin and feathers and the blood of human sacrifices.

If you're like my third friend, you sit quietly with your fresh fiction and your budding blog, and wonder whether you should even show your face on the Internet at all.

And actually, I'd like to stop and showcase her for a moment, because hers is a voice I don't think we hear very often. With her gracious permission, please say hello (again!) to my good buddy Shay E. Dee:


I hugely encourage you to watch her whole video, because she's warm and fun and real (and braver than I am, with her fearless vlogging self!), but also because her message is much bigger and broader than this little snippet I've transcribed here:
Even if you're looking just for an agent – you do tend to go around, and you will find, generally speaking, that there are a lot of fair [i.e. white] people in the publishing industry.  I don't know if it means anything, but you do sit down and question what that even means, and because of that, you then question whether you even fit in there – if you should even be doing that.
...
I'm sure agents out there don't really care, that they just want a book to represent and sell and make billions. I'm sure color doesn't really come into it. But then, if it doesn't, then... why is it like that?
And I just can't even tell you guys how hard I think we need to be listening, here.  Shay isn't Daniel José Older or N.K. Jemisin or Junot Diaz or any one of the hundreds of lesser-known writers who have hit the Straight White Wall of the literary world face-first and made it their mission to help break it down.  Shay is just starting out.  So when she speaks, what you're hearing is the voice of a writer who's brand-new - so new she hasn't even seriously started querying yet - and already wondering if she's not supposed to be here.

And that is a damned shame.  (She's not wrong, either - if you haven't been to a writers conference lately, scope out the AAR directory.  It won't take you long to see the pattern.)

So why IS it like that?  Why is it that decades after the Civil Rights movement, the Stonewall Riots, the ADA act, Cesar Chavez, Oprah Winfrey, and Captain Planet, that the traditional publishing industry is still so very... traditional?  Didn't we get the memo from Sesame Street and the Super Friends?  Shouldn't we have our demographic crap straight by now?

Well, here is a thought.  (Which will be illustrated through the sci-fi/fantasy facet of the publishing industry, since that's the one I know best.  Relevant fact: the Hugos are the SFF equivalent of the Oscars, given every year to a broad swath of authors, artists, editors, and other spec-fic publishing pros.  The statue is a suggestively-shaped rocket ship instead of a naked golden ubermensch, because that's how we roll.)

Observation I:  traditional publishing is something of a closed loop.  Authors are also agents.  Editors are also authors.  From what I've seen of the business so far, it's fairly rare to find someone who only wears a single hat - and rarer still to find someone who's never worked outside their current role.

WorldCon 1956 - New York.  Arthur C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov and others in attendance.
Segregation is the law of the land.
Photo from fanac.org


Observation II:  this closed loop is also a relatively small one.  Go to half a dozen conferences and conventions in your state, and I guarantee you will see the same people over and over and over again.  And this effect can only be a million times more potent in New York, still the Dyson Sphere of the American publishing industry.

WorldCon 1978 - Phoenix.  George R.R. Martin's first novel nominated for a Hugo.
Segregation over; indoor smoking still the norm.
Photo from fanac.org
Observation III:  this small, closed loop also makes it very, very easy to "hire from within."  Whether that's editors taking a preferential look at a short story submission they received from an author they met at a room party or an agent taking on an intern who was recommended to them over lunch with colleagues, there are a huge number of job openings and opportunities that never leave this tiny, enormously social world.

WorldCon 1992 - Orlando.  Bill Clinton newly elected; ADA act is two years old.
Isaac Asimov died earlier in the year, but won a Hugo anyway.
Photo from fanac.org
Observation IV:  it's human nature to want to work with people who "get you".  Editors buy stories that agree with their vision of what good fiction looks like - which are more likely to be written by authors who share their vision of what the world looks like - who are more likely to have cultural and political kinship with the agents and editors who ultimately pick them up.  This is not necessarily a product of active, hateful prejudice.  This is an ingrained tendency that flourishes in an enormously subjective industry - with hugely discriminatory results.

(And I wish like hell that I could use this spot to post a clip of Hank Hill hiring a fellow white guy who comments on his Dallas Cowboys calendar over a Hispanic woman who couldn't pick Troy Aikman out of a lineup.  Go take 20 minutes to watch the "Junkie Business" episode of King of the Hill - it's a classic.)

Worldcon 2013 - San Antonio.  Women are well-represented at the Hugos this year:
Seanan McGuire, Mary Robinette Kowal, Elizabeth Bear, and others are honored.
Photo from demotix.com


And so we end up here: with a WorldCon 2013 group photo that's almost as monochromatic as its 1956 counterpart.

But the other thing I want to emphasize with all these pictures is how little torch-passing has actually happened in these 57 years.  See that 1956 picture up top?  Robert Silverberg won a Hugo that year for Most Promising New Author.  Wanna know who did stand-up at WorldCon 2013?  Yes indeedily. 

And the young lady smoking in the 1978 photo is Teresa Nielsen Hayden, who's now a consulting editor at Tor Books (a Big Publisher for us spec-fic folks.)  Did you know that she was excommunicated from her church for supporting the 1980 Equal Rights Amendment for women?  I didn't until I sat down to write this post, and yet her story and her photo up there illustrate these two points perfectly:

1.  If it feels like the face of publishing hasn't changed since the Mad Men days, it's because in many cases we are still literally looking at the same faces.

2.  Older faces don't necessarily mean older ideas - but it's worth remembering that they did grow up in a world with different social norms and expectations, and that can still be reflected in the stories they choose to write, the books they choose to publish, and the people they choose to work with.

"Good job, Tex," you may here reply. "It's taken you 640 words to define 'good ol' boys club.'"

I know, right?!  I thought that was pretty damned efficient of me!  (Trust me: if brevity is the soul of wit, then we epic fantasy writers are its ever-churning lower intestine.)

But here's the thing, guys: this thing, this glacially slow passing of the industry baton?  This is not just a temporary inconvenience.  This is not just Tiger Woods feeling conspicuous at the country club.  This really has, is having, and will continue to have a huge impact on whose voices we hear, and how loudly they have to scream to be heard.  I'd like to look at that next time - because the more people know about these professional herd instincts of ours and their consequences, the better-equipped we all are to help move things in a better direction.  (Optimism, Annie - I promise it's coming!)


If you could eat at Luly's with one of the following, would it be A) Jesus, B) Muhammad, or C) Golda Meir?