SF/F Commentary

Reader Entitlement Syndrome: Stacey Jay and the Windmill Full of Corpses

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I would like to begin this post with a disclaimer:  what will follow is unlikely to be pleasant; it will be filled with profanity and angry ranting.  If that’s not your thing, then you can find a happy home next door where ponies dance in the moonlight and authors get shit all over for no good fucking reason and just have to smile and take it because they’re the modern equivalent of the court jester now.  Yeah. So, if you didn’t know that a thing happened over the last few days, then you should probably read this less angry post on Chuck Wendig’s blog.  In short, due to poor sales, an author named Stacey Jay (author of Princess of Thorns) was let go by her publisher, Delacorte Press, and decided to start a Kickstarter for the sequel  to her novel.  Among the things she included in her target goal were funds for living expenses ($7,000, to be exact).  Apparently, some people really didn’t like that, and even less so the idea that Jay might not release the novel if she couldn’t reach her goal.  And so they threw a fit about it.  Jay eventually took down the Kickstarter and threw in the towel, saying she’d continue writing under other pen names.  And still more people threw a fit. That’s where I come in.  The moment I saw the post on Wendig’s blog, the rage monster rose up.  I was so pissed off.  I thought:  Holy fucking hell; the people throwing fits are entitled pieces of shit.  What the fuck is this garbage?  And so I decided to hold off on the Twitter rant that I wanted to write at that moment so I could rant like a madman here. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when this mentality of “what readers want is more important than the needs of the writer” became so embedded into the writing landscape.  Regardless, it’s a mentality that needs to fucking die, not only because it’s toxic, but also because it derives from a series of totally bullshit premises about how writers earn their keep and what we as consumers should be asked to provide.  There are few other classes of workers in this country that people would actually point to and say “you get paid when I damn well tell you” than writers.  Even fucking employees at fucking McDonald’s are treated with more respect than writers, and they’re probably some of the most unloved workers in the whole of the Western world other than IRS agents (who everyone hates, but everyone still thinks should be paid more money than the guy who could be putting his boogers in their food).  I’m not saying that McDonald’s workers deserve to be treated like shit.  I’m just saying that we treat that guy a lot better than we do writers.  Well, unless they’re writers we love and they make a shit ton of money and never have to ask for anything because publishers will toss $500K at them or their books sell so fucking much that it’s never an issue.  Oh, wait.  No.  If a writer who sells a ton of books ever says “gosh, being a writer is tough,” someone will step up on the balcony over their heads and take a steaming shit all over them.  Because NYT Best Selling Authors are as rich as Bill fucking Gates (lies). Writers are one of the few classes of worker to whom you can say “you write that thing and then I’ll pay you to live later” and almost nobody bats an eye. Now, it turns out that the mechanics of publishing demand this to a degree.  After all, how the hell is a publisher supposed to know which book to publish if the damned thing hasn’t been written yet?  But we’re not talking about a new writer.  We’re talking about an established one, to a certain degree.  And even so, that’s why good publishers pay this little thing called an advance.  As you probably know, that’s the sad chunk of cash a publisher gives an author when they decide to publish a work, as if to say (not really), “Well, you did all that friggin work, so now we’ll give you something so you don’t have to starve anymore.”  And some authors get paid those things even if the book isn’t fucking done, because they’ve built a relationship with their agent or publisher or whatever through writing other shit — as I’m sure Stacey Jay has. So the idea that Stacey Jay would say, “hey, you all liked my books, but the publisher wanted to sell 4,000,000 copies, and I’m never going to do that, so I thought, since a bunch of you liked the darn thing, maybe we could do this whole bit where you help me live for a few months so I can write the book without interruption, and then you’ll have it and we’ll all be happy” is really not that out there.  Presumably, her publisher would have paid her that money anyway. The entitlement of those who think this is absurd is no more apparent than in the tweets from shitheads who seem to think writers are some kind of new class of serf.  Take this shit, for example: @_KatKennedy if it were just the editor and the cover, i’d be like, yeah that makes sense but asking us to pay your bills is ridiculous — Nova Lee Zaiden (@NovaBlogder) January 5, 2015 @_KatKennedy EXACTLY. Threatening to stop writing if fans don’t pay her enough money to write full time? Hard pass. — Angie (@disquietus) January 5, 2015 @_KatKennedy i saw it and like, since when does buying groceries and gas count specifically for the project? — Nova Lee Zaiden (@NovaBlogder) January 4, 2015 @booknerdcanada Yeah…which is just a whole world of no. — Molli Moran (@MissMolliWrites) January 5, 2015 Again, the question:  since when does buying groceries and gas count specifically for the project? SINCE FUCKING EVER. Why, yes.  It is

SF/F Commentary

The 2013 and 2014 WISB Awards

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It’s been almost two years since I last posted my selections for the WISB Awards.  The 2013 Awards should have gone up in January of 2014, but I got a tad overwhelmed with podcasting, Hugo stuff, and academia.  Such is life! But now the awards are back like a weird plague that never really goes away, but takes brief hiatuses to make you feel safe from its wicked grasp. To make up for the absence of the awards last year, I’m going to double up this year, which makes this doubly hard, since I cannot fall to temptation by allowing myself to select best books or movies I enjoyed in 2014, even though I’m basically in love with so many things right now (new and old). First, the rules: I must have consumed the item in 2013 or 2014.[1] No more than 3 runners up per category. I can drop or add categories as necessary. I will use “genre” to mean “science fiction and fantasy” in order to distinguish categories without using 3 extra words. So, without further ado, here are the 2013 and 2014 WISB Awards: Best Novel 2014 Selection:  City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett (Broadway Books) Bennett’s recent novel brought a delicious noir flavor to an imperialist landscape in a world where the gods have been murdered…maybe.  It’s the kind of book someone like me devours because it hits all of their little interest buttons.  Colonialism and empire?  Check.  Cultural exploration?  Check.  Colonial detectives?  Check.  Weird world-changing craziness?  And check.  There were a lot of great novels in 2014, but this one still haunts me, and it will probably haunt me for years to come. Runners Up:  Breach Zone by Myke Cole (Ace Books), Ancillary Sword by Ann Leckie (Orbit Books), and The Violent Century by Lavie Tidhar (Hodder and Stoughton) 2013 Selection:  Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie (Orbit Books) By now, you’ve heard so much about this book that you’re probably not surprised that it graced my WISB Awards list in some fashion.  Leckie’s debut novel took the science fiction field by storm, garnering wins from just about every science fiction award.  It was probably the single most talked about science fiction novel in 2013 — and possibly in the last decade.  And it deserved all of that attention.  Leckie’s novel took some familiar ideas and beautifully weaved them into a complex, socio-political jacket of colonialism.  It’s the kind of book I would teach if ever given the opportunity, because it’s just that good. Runners Up:  The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes (Little, Brown, and Company), Promise of Blood by Brian McClellan (Orbit Books), and Sister Mine by Nalo Hopkinson (Grand Central Publishing) Best Collection or Anthology 2014 Selection:  N/A For some monumentally stupid reason, I have not read enough collections or anthologies this year, which means I am a terrible person… 2013 Selection:  Conservation of Shadows by Yoon Ha Lee (Prime Books) I was blown away by Yoon Ha Lee’s collection of stories from Prime Books.  Though I’d read some of her work before (mostly through Clarkesworld), the collection of stories in Conservation of Shadows were so refreshing that I have continued to read everything Lee has written since 2013.  If you’re looking for unique, intellectual, and diverse/rich short fiction, Conservation of Shadows is the place to go. Runners Up:  Mothership:  Tales from Afrofuturism and Beyond edited by Bill Campbell and Edward Austin Hall (Rosarium Publishing) and The Love Machine and Other Contraptions by Nir Yaniv (infinity plus) Best Publisher 2014 Selection:  Tor Books Tor continues to be on the forefront of science fiction and fantasy publishing.  This year, they released a number of superb titles and were involved in everything from traditional sf/f fair to English translation, including Ken Liu’s translation of Liu Cixin’s The Three Body Problem.  Tor is always high on my favorite publishers list because they always strive for greater and better publishing pastures. Runners Up:  Angry Robot Books, Orbit Books, and Hodder and Stoughton 2013 Selection:  Orbit Books Orbit had a good year in 2013.  A really good year.  They published Brian McClellan’s Promise of Blood and Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice, both of which are superb works.  On top of that, they continue to publish the James S.A. Corey Expanse novels.  These elements alone made Orbit one of the top spots for sf/f fiction.  Hopefully, they will continue to publish new and exceptional works in 2015. Runners Up:  Tor Books, Angry Robot Books, and Hodder and Stoughton Best Magazine 2014 Selection:  Tor.com 2014 was certainly Tor.com’s year.  They published another excellent story by John Chu (“A Cost-Benefit Analysis of the Proposed Trade-Offs for the Overhaul of the Barricade”), one by Ken Lieu (“Reborn”), and one by Yoon Ha Lee (“Combustion Hour”) — all writers whose work I gobble up like some kind of writerly pumpkin pie.  We will see how the awards season will turn out for them, but I suspect we’ll see quite a few Tor.com stories on the Hugo ballot! Runners Up:  Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons and Interzone 2013 Selection:  Clarkesworld In the last few years, Clarkesworld has published some pretty extraordinary fiction.  In 2013, they were on top of their game.  They published “Effigy Nights” by Yoon Ha Lee, “Silent Bridge, Pale Cascade” by Benjanun Sriduangkaew, and a ton of other amazing work, including some from Aliette de Bodard (sweet heavens yes).  Clarkesworld, of course, has been consistently good for years, but for reasons that I can’t quite explain, it has been my go-to-magazine since 2013 — hence its placement on this list. Runners Up:  Strange Horizons, Interzone, and Tor.com Best Cover 2014 Selection:  The Pilgrims by Will Elliot (art by Kekai Kotaki) The artwork for Will Elliot’s second novel so overwhelmed me when I first saw it that I promptly forgot the name of the book.  All I could remember was that gorgeous cover art.  Granted, the cover art is supposed to make me remember the book, but I think there is something of value in art that explodes something in your

SF/F Commentary

2015 Resolutions: Oh, God, So Much Work to Do!

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The New Year is upon us, and there’s far too much I didn’t get done in 2014 that I should have.  And so I figure I should make one of those resolutions things to make myself feel inclined to actually complete some projects. On that note, here are my resolutions: Publish a collection with Sarah Chorn (who is the awesomestest) Finish the SpecFic 2014 anthology with Renay (which I have to do because I said I would) Lose another 20 lbs (or replace it with muscle) Finish my dissertation by November 2015 Finish my action adventure space opera novel of awesome featuring a female protagonist who is a tech savant and her warrior brother who fights using a mecha-based wheel chair (yeah!) Review 50 books Review 25 movies Finish my SFF Odyssey project Be awesome I think that’s a fair enough list, don’t you? What are your resolutions for 2015?

SF/F Commentary

Comic Review: Drifter (Issue #1) by Ivan Brandon and Nic Klein

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As I’ve read more and more comics, I’ve come to the realization that one of the things I am sorely missing is a good sense of the non-Marvel/non-DC comics worldview.  Thus, I have turned to Image Comics to find those gems that I would otherwise miss.  This is, of course, hardly a challenge for me, since I’ve enjoyed Saga as much as Wake and Wytches.  Still, the more I look at what I read, the more it becomes apparent to me that I’m not diversifying as much as I should — and that I’m not reading enough science fiction that doesn’t involve superheroes.  And so I have turned to Drifter #1, the first in a new series by Ivan Brandon and Nic Klein from Image Comics, where one of my comics-reading friends buys 99% of his comics because he likes the weird stuff they publish (so do I, it turns out). I have some mixed feelings about Drifter #1.  Though the overarching narrative is compelling, its subplots are somewhat mixed, leaving an introductory issue that, while intriguing, also misses something crucial in the narrative space.  The narrative follows Abram Pollux, a pilot whose spacecraft is severely damaged, presumably by the man chasing him.  Pollux is forced to crashland on Ouro, an alien backwater world; upon extracting himself from the wreckage, he is shot by the assailant and left to die.  But he doesn’t.  Instead, Pollux awakens in Ghost Town, a settlement populated by equally unfortunate rough-and-tumble humans.  In an attempt to track down his ship, and the man who tried to kill him, Pollux reveals that things on Ouro may not be what they seemed and that his notion of reality could be just a little bit false… (this is me being vague so as to avoid ruining the ending of the first issue, which is pretty awesome) As a comics reader, I am mostly picky about two things:  the depth and pace of the narrative and the art.  Though it is difficult to judge the former in a single issue, the latter is largely why I picked up the first issue in the first place.  Nic Klein’s artwork is simply gorgeous.  Though I wouldn’t call Klein’s art original, it is functional.  Klein conveys action with a deft hand and indulges in gorgeous wide shots when necessary for a sense of scale (one such shot is provided below).  At times, the level of detail is stunning, while at others, the details fall away as if the washout of text within an action sequence is also washing out the definition of the visual landscape.  I love this sort of variation when it comes to comics, especially when the artist puts more attention into the details than on a some kind of stylistic signature.  In this case, Klein is certainly focused on the details, not the style. From a narrative perspective, Drifter is hard to judge.  Perhaps the strongest aspect of the narrative are its characters, however briefly explored.  Though Pollux will likely remain the focal point for every issue, Sheriff Carter, a medic-turned-law-woman, bears the brunt of the narrative’s backstory, with Arkady, the priest, serving as the text’s punching bag.  Given the discussions of representations of women in sf/f, and in comics in general, I suspect Carter will be a focus for many.  From my perspective, her character, though undeveloped as of yet, provides the sort of “product of circumstance” nuance that will make for interesting conflicts in future volumes.  Carter is not quite the idealist, but she is the one who seems most practical when it comes to her role in Ghost Town, and she is likely the one who Pollux will most rely on because of his disruptive presence as an outsider and her authority as Sheriff and as “one who has already been here for a long while.”  Carter also benefits from having her gender largely ignored, except as a visual cue.  Brandon doesn’t essentialize her as any particular kind of “woman;” rather, Carter is allowed to “be,” even in a secondary role.  My hope is that future volumes will give her more of an arc so we can understand why she views Ghost Town the way she does. The narrative proper also shows promise.  I can see where Brandon intends to develop a thematic “man vs. nature” subplot and even where the brief interactions of the main character with the townspeople will produce some nuanced relationships for later parts of the narrative.  There is potential here for the narrative to escape its Western trappings to become something more than “outlaws doing outlaw things.”  This is my hope, as the familiarity of the setting and some of the subplots can act as a trap for the narrative. That said, there are flaws in the plot, particularly since it answers too few of its most basic questions.  Who is the man who shot Pollux?  Who is Pollux, and why does he have an inconsistent attitude with regards to violence?  The more complicated answers would be revealed over time, obviously, but the snippets are needed here not only to give Drifter‘s narrative arc depth, but also to avoid an attempt to alienate the reader without something to also ground them.  That level of estrangement disrupts in a way that draws too much attention to itself, which Drifter certainly doesn’t need. Part of this problem stems from the occasional poor transitions between dialogue sequences and from the occasional clunky dialogue.  Brandon attempts to convey a vernacular of sorts here, but one which is more rooted in a gritty Western aesthetic than something along the lines of Burgess’ Nadsat.  Often, this feels unnatural.  Phrases like “What kind of place, I guess we’re working at” occasionally grace the pages of Drifter #1 along with the use of various contractions (ain’t, why’m, etc.).  The strategy is the same:  contracting the language into something more rugged than direct; these contracted sentence structures draw attention not to the ideas under discussion, but to the words

World in the Satin Bag

On Ridley Scott’s Exodus and Bannings

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The Washington Post reports that Egypt has banned Ridley Scott’s controversial Bible film, Exodus (starring Christian Bale, Joel Edgerton, and Ben Kingsley), due to “alleged historical inaccuracies and a ‘Zionist’ agenda.”  You can read the article for more detail, though I would suggest extra care here given the region under discussion and the inevitable spin that will come out of U.S. news sources.  For the record:  the BBC has reported the same thing, more or less. I should also note that I’m not going to defend Exodus from the charges that it is inaccurate in any direct sense.  Honestly, I don’t think the movie should have been made.  Its white-washing of history and clear manipulation of Biblical narrative for “sensationalist imagery” — not to mention Ridley Scott’s absurd defense of the former — have not endeared the film to me.  In fact, I’m perfectly content with never seeing Exodus, and I sincerely hope it does so poorly that Hollywood thinks again before letting Ridley Scott ruin anything else.  But none of this is a reason to ban the film.  They made it, and if theaters want to play it, then so be it. Now, to my thoughts: As a general rule, I am against censorship, allowing for exceptions that might arise in which censorship might be necessary (no, I haven’t a clue what those exceptions might look like).  Of course, when I say “censorship,” I mean “from the government or its subsidiaries.”  While I might be bothered by a theater refusing to play a film, my objections would be personal, not ethical or legal. Censorship from the government, however, moves beyond a personal level.   One business entity making a quality judgement has little bearing on the public’s perception of a work of art.  After all, there are theaters devoted entirely to independent films, and so they intentionally leave out all sorts of films that do not fit their criteria, in part because so many of those theaters are small and cannot play every indie film that gets released.  The Hippodrome Theater in Gainesville (where I live) does this.  They probably play 10% of the “significant” independent films released in a year because they do not have the space — nor the funds — of a company like Regal Cinemas, which receives, I imagine, 100 times the attendance of the Hipp.  And so the Hipp must make judgments on what it wants to play and for how long.  Those judgments might involve content, the assessment of the local audience, money, and so on and so forth.  All fair in the economics game. But the government doesn’t have the luxury of reflecting the voice of one entity, let alone a small collection of people working within that entity.  It is meant to reflect the voice of a nation.  In the case of the U.S., that voice is a protected voice, not just by our Constitution, but also by the individual laws we have put in place to protect artistic and everyday expression.  We have a history of that protection lapsing, and we still struggle with a culture of book banning.  Ever more the reason to discuss these rights and to continue fighting for them. Egypt, however, is not the U.S. and is not bound by our rules and legal structures (as should be obvious).  Here, I think the principle of expression is paramount, and that’s something that I find difficult to support beyond the confines of the U.S.  After all, it’s not every day that I am asked to defend my perspective of human rights with someone who does not share my nation’s history.  How do I justify a position which says that Egypt’s banning of Exodus is wrong — even somewhat fascistic — when that position arrives from a growing up in a nation where such values are mostly upheld?  Even if I suggest that expression is a fundamental right, can I defend that without resorting to a Western view? As it turns out, I can.  Sorta.  Egypt has been part of the United Nations since 1945 (Oct. 24).  In 1948, they adopted the U.N. Declaration of Human Rights, which contains a handy little section on expression: Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. In short, Egypt agreed to the same principles which protect artistic and everyday expression in the U.S. (though, I must admit that the U.N.’s language is a tad clearer on the implementation).  Egypt’s decision to ban Exodus, in other words, is a clear violation of this right/principle. We could certainly get into arguments about whether the U.N. has any authority or whether its Declaration is anything other than symbolic.  Regardless, that Egypt adopted the Declaration suggests that they agreed with the principles written within it — or, rather, that a previous government did and no government afterwards saw fit to contradict that adoption.  A banning, in short, is fundamentally unethical, and it sets a precedent that allows for other moralistic decisions about art.  After all, that’s what Egypt’s banning is.  Exodus was not banned because it is obscene or can be shown to have any real impact on Egypt’s population; it was banned because it does not represent history as Egypt’s government would want it. While it is probably true that Exodus is disgustingly wrong about its history (it certainly failed on the racial front), there is a suspiciously religious-moralistic flavor to this particular banning.  If it were not so marked, then one could look back through Egypt’s history and find instances of other blatantly inaccurate films being banned.  But Egypt released Gladiator, 300, 300:  Rise of an Empire, The Patriot, and 10,000 B.C.  One might argue that some of these simply take creative license with historical periods, but you can’t say that they are accurate films; given that at least two of these intended to be accurate, they

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