All Your Human Are Belong to Us: Cats, Authors, and Science Fiction and Fantasy
Since I’ve already talked about cats in SFF in this “top 10 cats” post, I decided to go after this subject from a different angle: authors. On Monday and Tuesday of this week, I conducted an informal survey on the relationship between authors, their cats, and genre. The results were both familiar and unusual.* As expected, most of the authors who own cats mentioned that the natural independence of the feline species makes them perfect pets for an otherwise introverted or attention-limited group. The “cats are not like dogs” sentiment came up several times, though some authors expressed a love of the canine species as well, prompting me to consider whether a “authors who don’t own cats” survey would be equally as compelling. In any case, what we already kind of knew came up in almost every single case: cats are independent, and authors like having an uncompromising furry creature that is perfectly fine being ignored but won’t let you get away with being a neglectful turd (truth). The more interesting responses were the vaguely fantastic ones. More than one author suggested that cats seemed to have an otherworldly presence: they can hear spiders and breach the supernatural, as one anonymous author declared. These statements were obviously said with tongue firmly planted in cheek, but I think there is an undercurrent of honesty in these statements, too. Judith Tarr, for example, said that “cats are the distilled essence of the weird” (winner of this year’s Most Profound Statement About Cats Award). So many authors ascribed supernatural “feeling” to cats that it’s not surprising that so many fantasy novels have included cats in some form, whether at the forefront or in the background — urban fantasy especially. From Sabrina the Teenage Witch (1996-2003) to recent novels such as Kristi Charish’s Owl and the Japanese Circus (2015) and Elizabeth Bear’s Karen Memory (2015), cats are a fairly common occurrence in fantasy, active or otherwise Trying to take over the world one kitty barf at a time… Part of that prevalence, of course, is historical. Cats have been part of human history for almost as long as we’ve we’ve had what could be called “civilization.” They have been worshiped, given pet status, treated as exterminators, been consumed as food, hunted (in the case of the big cats), and immortalized in our literature (T.S. Eliot anyone?). They may not have the same symbiotic relationship with us as dogs, but they are undoubtedly a part of the human experience. There may even be some truth to the notion that cats have some connection to the supernatural that goes beyond normal human experience. And if not, then they certainly give that impression, don’t they? On the more science fictional side were Martha Wells and Kelly McCullough, who both suggested that cats are about as close to an alien intelligence that one can reasonably get (presumably keeping tapeworms as pets is still a faux pas, which is total crap).** Wells, for example, stated that “cats are the aliens that live in our houses,” which is a curious phrase indeed. What I find interesting here is that cats are frequently listed on the survey as influencing an author’s work, but in some cases, cats are granted a higher state of influence. There’s a duality of function: on the one hand, cats influence writers by keeping them “in check” or giving them necessary companionship; on the other hand, cats become vehicles for speculative exploration, either directly in the form of actual cats in an author’s work or indirectly as inspiration for characters or creatures. DOAN TOUCH MAH HOOMAN OR IM GONNA EAT U!!!1 The particular alien-ness of cats is also interesting because they are frequently thought of as one of the only proper companion species which is alien to human beings — “proper” meaning “creatures which are domesticated so that they seek out companionship with humans”*** Dogs and parrots do not have the same indifference to humans as cats almost always do. In fact, some parrots bond to a single owner for life, making it quite difficult to find them replacement homes when their human owners do not outlive them. I need to say nothing of dogs. But cats are different. Almost every author in the survey noted that cats take what they want and give what they please, but they are otherwise independent creatures who seem to tolerate our existence. That is, of course, a human assessment of a cat, so it should be taken with a grain of salt. I’ve no more clue what goes on in a cat’s mind than any of you for hopefully obvious reasons (I’m not a cat; really). So reading cats as “alien intelligences” isn’t that far off the mark. More than so many other companion species, cats really do seem removed. Alien. Even our attempts to understand them come up short because we filter everything through a human lens. While this might work for dogs, which have similar mammalian social functions as human beings, it is less clear with cats. I think that on some level we explain away cat behaviors in humanistic terms to make ourselves feel better; otherwise, we have to admit to living with creatures whose motives are unknown. The last serious question I had for authors was specific to the topic, which was suggested by Amy Fredericks as one of her patron rewards on my Patreon page: do you think there is a deeper connection between science fiction and fantasy and cats, or are they a writer thing in general? Most of the respondents didn’t think there was much of a connection. Cats may be more common among writers, they remarked, but they are otherwise a people thing, and there’s no reason to think that cats are somehow more “unique” or “influential” in SFF than they are elsewhere. The Kzinti are to galactic wars as cat tantrums are to cat scratch fever… That said, I think it’s worth noting that cats are a huge part of SFF literary and cinematic history, as became apparent
SFF Reappraisals: Brian Francis Slattery
SFF Reappraisals is a new column on WISB which discusses under-appreciated or lesser known writers in an attempt to explain why they deserve greater recognition. ————————– Though a winner of the Philip K. Dick Award in 2012, Brian Francis Slattery’s literary science fiction has thus far been “under the radar” within wider SF circles. I think this is a mistake, if not because Slattery is an exceptional writer, then certainly because Slattery’s work speaks to our present in a way that so few writers today have shown (or the other way around). For this reason, I’ve selected Slattery as the first author in my SFF Reappraisals feature. So, without further ado… The Work Slattery is primarily known for his novel writing, one of which, Lost Everything (2012; Tor), won the 2012 Philip K. Dick Award. His other novels include Spaceman Blues: A Love Song (2007; Tor), Liberation: Being the Adventures of the Slick Six After the Collapse of the United States of America (2008; Tor), and the forthcoming The Family Hightower (Seven Stories Press).* As a literary stylist, Slattery is perhaps best thought of as SFF’s Cormac McCarthy, though even that is a limited comparison. There’s a distinctly “southern” feel to some of his work, which either comes from personal history or literary allusion. Lost Everything, for example, bears the traces of Faulkner in its examination of a post-climate change America, and may even have the characteristic dark wit for which Faulkner seems to have been divested of as generations of students become increasingly removed from the Great Depression. One might also see parallels to Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, though not so much in plot as in its allusions, which are, at times, clearly reminiscent of Civil War Era literature. This “feeling” certainly reminds one of a literary modality — in the sense that Slattery appears to borrow from literary forms to tell otherwise speculative stories which speak about our present either directly — as in the case of Lost Everything — or more abstractly. Spaceman Blues, for example, is an urban retelling of the classic myth of Orpheus, yet bears resemblance to the postmodern stylings of Kurt Vonnegut or Philip K. Dick and the literary traditions of the Pulps. Yet Spaceman Blues, whose protagonist is homosexual, has the (mis)fortune of having been published during a remarkably bigoted period of American history, wherein the vast majority of States had some form of same sex marriage ban on the books. That this mythic retelling features a homosexual man, then, is not insignificant at all: the great mythic romance is not just a hetero romance. The appearance of literary mimicry gives Slattery’s work a certain gravitas that I find compelling. What on the surface appears to be a simple narrative canvas quickly becomes a complicated foray into the lives of very real, sometimes very strange or unique people. Spaceman Blues is, on the surface, a simple mythic retelling, but it is also a love story which revels in and interrogates SFF’s narrative traditions; Lost Everything is another climate change dystopia, but it is also mythic in scope and so closely focused on the everyday lives of those trying to survive that it transcends — even reduces to mythic monstrosity — its dystopian setting: it is about people, not the end of the world. Slattery is an interesting case because his work is undoubtedly of the literary vein, yet it is published by a major SFF publisher who is largely recognized for its backlist of straight SFF — much like metafictionalist Paul Park. But he is also a writer that deserves greater attention. If you haven’t read a Slattery novel, you should. Recommendation If you’re a fan of Cormac McCarthy, Paul Park, or William Faulkner, you’ll certainly enjoy Brian Francis Slattery’s work. Further Reading and Listening I have written two reviews of Slattery’s work (Spaceman Blues and Lost Everything), and he has made one appearance on The Skiffy and Fanty Show. Slattery also writes short fiction, most of which is available via online venues. They are linked on his website. —————— This post was suggested by Paul Weimer as one of his patron rewards on my Patreon page. You can have a say in the content for this website, too, by becoming a patron. —————– *Which I have not read.
Hugo Award Reading: Suggest Shorts/Novelettes/Novellas (Final Open Call)
The title says it all. I’m working on my nomination ballot for the Hugo Awards, and I need more suggestions for the shorter-than-a-novel categories so I can get a proper survey. If you have a suggestion, please leave it in the magic comment box (links to online stories are appreciated). By the way, I had nearly 1,000 pages of reading last year thanks to everyone’s suggestions. It was totally worth it. Alright, off to work!
Patreon Updates: Rewards, Milestone Goals, and February Offer Madness
In case you missed it, I made some changes to my Patreon page, which include the following: Added 5 reward levels, which give Patrons various special abilities and what not Added 3 Milestone Goals (the most expensive goal involves me starting an sf/f writing podcast where I talk to authors about their process) Added more detail in the description (for reasons) Do check it out and consider supporting my blogging efforts there. On a side note: since I didn’t have any of these things on the Patreon page from the start, I decided to give everyone the Ninja Hamster Master level for February if they became a patron before the 1st. Do with that magic information what you will. Regular programming will continue soon…
On Self-Publishing and the Hugh Howey / Data Guy January 2015 Report
(Parts of this post originally appeared on my Google+ page and in the comments on Mike Reeves-McMillan’s post on the report.) You may be aware that Author Earnings, a data analysis site run by Hugh Howey and someone called Data Guy, recently released a report on ebook sales and the market share of those sales by the various publishing methods. There is a lot of interesting information here, so I do recommend checking it out if you have the time. As you may expect, I have some issues with the report and with responses to the report — and to my questions regarding the report. I should start by saying that I haven’t bothered with the self-publishing vs. traditional publishing debate in any serious sense for years because I find the entrenched positions on either side to be, in light of the current publishing climate, monstrously stupid. There are too many pundits out there trying to prescribe the “right” path for publishing while rejecting any alternative as viable; yet, so few of them have much in the way of hard, objective data to back up their arguments. As it stands, most of the debates about which method is better are based almost entirely on anecdotes or reports like the one I’m going to talk about here. Unfortunately, that invariably means these arguments are fundamentally faulty. While I don’t doubt that a lot of the data here is accurate (and interesting), there are two immediate problems that come to mind: 1) As a statistical study, it does a poor job of maintaining objectivity. From the start, it is clear where the author’s biases lie, and it’s hard not to think that that perspective affects how the authors interpret and compare the data. Given that Hugh Howey, a fairly staunch pro-self-publishing pundit, is involved here, that’s not surprising.* That’s a serious issue for me, because I find the debates concerning traditional publishing and self-publishing to be largely fought on ideological grounds. When that ideology creeps into the data we’re using to talk about either side, it will invariably change the way data is perceived either by the reader or the one doing the analysis. 2) The data doesn’t actually tell us much in any usable sense. Honestly, I don’t know why data regarding sales is a valid metric for determining who is better off: a self-published author or a traditionally-published one. Short of instances where one author or another is clearly getting a raw deal (bad publisher or Amazon contract terms, for example), sales figures really don’t paint a clear enough picture of the writing life for either group — or the hybrids that arise from either end. There are more factors than sales here. How money is allocated, whether literally in the case of a traditional publisher or based on effort (or via a hire of some kind) for a self-publisher, is actually a more useful application of the data. If the average self-publisher makes less / the same / more per hour on average than a traditional publisher, that tells us something useful. I just want hard data without the bias. Objective data analysis. Given how long these industries have been in play, you wouldn’t think that would be so hard. But it is… Obviously, part of this argument didn’t go over well with everyone. As I noted on Mike’s original post: There are very VERY successful people in either camp, and some VERY successful people who do it both ways. Some have to do PR. Some don’t. Some like to. Some don’t. Some spend more time doing PR than they do writing — to little effect; some have great success for the effort. But basic sales data and market share doesn’t divulge that kind of information. I don’t know if anybody actually knows how the two publishing lives compare, except via anecdote. But I think we desperately need that data so we can have actual useful conversations about both forms of publishing. Mike was receptive, stating that he thought that data would be of interest, too. Another commenter by the name of Brian Rush was less enthused: It’s not valid to assume that indies spend more marketing time than the traditionally published. That’s almost certainly not true. Indies do spend more time and/or more of their own money on editing, cover design, and formatting than the trads, because all of that is handled by the publisher. However, for successful authors it’s a trivial difference, because it’s a fixed per-title cost, not a per-volume cost. Look at it in dollars (although in fact you can trade time for money for a lot of it, dollars make it easier to calculate). If you go full-on professional in all three categories, you’re probably talking about $2000 on the average. If you sell 10,000 copies, that’s 20 cents per copy. If you sell 100,000 copies, it’s 2 cents per copy. See what I mean? Trivial, unless the book doesn’t sell well. I pointed out that unless you have hard data to back these claims, you have no way beyond anecdote and self-reported information to know how hours are allocated based on publishing method, nor how those hours change depending on publisher, format, sites used, etc. Hours worked ≠ fixed per-title cost. There’s no available data to compare the average SP to the big name examples that are pointed to as “the successes,” nor the same for the alternative OR for hybrids. Without that information, any claim about either method that offers an analysis of its efficacy is faulty. We cannot use sales numbers alone to assess anything but the size and health of an “industry” in totally superficial terms. That would be like using touchdown numbers to determine how good your football team is. Brian disagreed, resorting to tactics that are probably pretty tame by comparison to the kinds of verbal abuse faced on the traditional publishing vs. self-publishing debate: Everything I said is easy to know, and you’re just dumping
A Conversation with Josh Vogt About the Internet and Perverted Things
(Trigger warning for anyone bother STD analogies…) SCENE: In the minutes before Shaun’s new editing website went live, an unsuspecting Josh Vogt is gifted an exchange of adolescent absurdity on Facebook. SHAUN: I want to announce this thing, but I can’t do it if the stupid thing doesn’t propagate. Make Internet love and spread already! JOSH: You make it sound like an STD. SHAUN: It’s kind of like one…It waits for an unsuspecting server to touch it in its delicate place, and then infects it with new information. That’s all STDs are. New information. We just perceive it as genital warts. JOSH: Ew. Though that’d make an intriguing character POV. SHAUN: I’m actually laughing right now because that’s funny shit right there. JOSH: Someone who worships disease because it’s just information and information must be shared to have value. SHAUN: I’m going to tweet that… JOSH: No no! I’m stealing your idea. You’ll see it in a book someday. SHAUN: That’s cool. I just want to tweet the convo. Because it’s funny. But I can save it. JOSH: Naw. SHAUN: I’ll use it as blackmail when you sell the story. JOSH: Spread the love SHAUN: I will spread Internet genital warts. Yes. JOSH: So is Twitter an orgy then? SHAUN: Yes. I can’t tweet this. Some of the sentences are too long. Can I put it on my blog? JOSH: Sure nuff. SHAUN: Woot! IT HAS PROPOGATED! JOSH: Heheh SHAUN: http://thedukeofediting.com/ My Internet genital warts virus has flowered! JOSH: I really hope this isn’t anything I dream about tonight…Soon, websites will instead be known a webstds SHAUN: We’re part of the future, Josh. Part of the *FUTURE.* THE END