Materialism and the Fantasy Genre
Skimming critiques of critiques of capitalism makes you think really interesting things. Take, for example, the concept of materialism and how it relates to the fantasy genre–and more specifically its typical representations found in the big names of the genre. What does magic do to issues of hoarding, to materialism itself, and to general concerns over resources? I can’t think of many examples in which magic is used as the primary method of acquiring, well, everything the kingdom needs, but it is interesting to consider how materialism acts as a dividing force in fantasy. Individuals who hoard and who must own things are seen primarily as the enemy, or are at least on the darker side of the good guys. Harry Potter, perhaps, is one of the few series that so obviously presents oppositional forces in the world of materialism–a good and evil battle between the kinds of materialism we are familiar with today. The Malfoy family dominates much of the series as the principle nemesis family to Potter and the Weasley’s: they are wealthy, pride themselves in said wealth, and spend it with the express purpose of acquiring new and flashy things; they are the pinnacle of materialist families in the Potter universe. Harry, however, is exceptionally anti-materialist. Most of his possessions are those he has acquired not necessarily by intent, but through gift or necessity–and each of those possessions is “special” to him, having something to do with his family or his friends. Potter isn’t interested in acquiring things so much as hanging on to his links to those most important to him; the Malfoy family, however, is the opposite. And, of course, Potter is the hero, the good guy, the Chosen One. These things are seen elsewhere too. Karen Miller’s The Innocent Mage/The Awakened Mage series splits society into two distinct groups: those who typically support the King, and those that believe the King’s family doesn’t deserve to be where they are. While each of these groups are in a position of privilege and power, there is a particularly strong materialist bent in those families that do not typically support the King. These “darker” families want the throne for purely selfish reasons, while the “lighter” families want the throne to protect the Kingdom. Even the King’s magic-less son is opposed to materialist formations, rejecting much of what has been forced upon him as the son of the King. There are even splits within the royal family as well, with the princess being particularly arrogant and selfish, despite her parents’ level-headed approach to authority. But what about materialism in fantasy that isn’t definitively evil or good? How does magic influence the way the material is perceived? I can’t think of any examples, but it seems to me that if a select few individuals in a society were to have magic and were also not inclined towards ruling “normies,” wouldn’t there be a rejection of materialism in general? Why would you be a materialist if you could create anything you needed out of thin air? What of Gods? Why is it that in fantasies which contain Gods as active participants, that they are often materialist in nature? Perhaps there’s a bit of faulty thinking by fantasy writers in certain instances. It seems illogical to have materialist tendencies in societies in which magic alters the consciousness of select individuals, or even where entire societies are magically inclined. But maybe this is what fantasy does: it steals from modern society and drags it into the fantasy landscape, even if the analogy doesn’t quite compute. —————————– What do you all think about materialism in fantasy? Let me know in the comments!
The Rules of Shelving Books: Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Their Literary Friends
David Barnett of The Guardian had an interesting post about science fiction as a label and how certain authors of the more “literary” vein see science fiction in general. It was an interesting article that highlighted the three typical responses to science fiction by “literary” authors: it’s trashy pulp, it’s just a stupid label and all labels are pointless, and there’s nothing wrong with writing science fiction, because like anything else, it has its pulpy and more literary sides (which also translates to: if you don’t want to be known as a science fiction writer, then don’t use science fiction elements in your fiction). Much of what is written in the post isn’t really all that new; some of the authors we’ve heard from before (such as Margaret Atwood), and all that is being said is mostly a repeat or a rehash of an argument genre fans are all too familiar with. But what interested me most about the post was Barnett’s questions about shelving science fiction and fantasy. Winterson, it seems, has some rather radical suggestions: Is it feasible, as Jeanette Winterson seems to be suggesting, to do away with all categories on novels, and simply file them all in an A-Z of general fiction? It might conceivably give every novel a fighting chance, but would the reader who visits a shop or library looking for the latest crime, war or, indeed, science fiction novel really be well served by such a move? Personally, I think this is a bad idea. The thing about book buyers is that they often like to sit within their comfort zones. Few people consciously read outside of their “comfort genres” (i.e. the genres they find most enjoyable, which the individual consumer is unlikely to break away from). So, while it might seem like a good idea to dispense with labels and have a big literature section with everything shoved into one place, doing so could be a real deterrent for the consumer. How exactly are they going to find the next big thing in science fiction or fantasy or crime or mystery or “literary” fiction? True, they might pick up a book by someone outside of their typical genres, but what if they do this repeatedly and end up getting so sick of the time and money wasted to find one good book that they give it up altogether? I think we have enough problems getting people to read these days that adding more to the consumptive load of the consumer could be detrimental to reading in general. Personally, I might stop shopping at a story that shelves things like this. I like to look at books, but I’m also unwilling to work my butt off to find something I might enjoy reading. While I do spend a lot of time in stores like Powell’s City of Books, it’s mainly because of its size (it has about 9 aisles of science fiction and fantasy, plus at least ten more aisles for YA, and a dozen or so other sections that I like to peruse). Quadruple the size and take away the labels and I imagine the store would lose it’s value for me. But what about the problem of shelving books that are both “literary” and science fiction? Are they right? If you want to buy Oryx and Crake or Stone Gods, should you head for the general fiction section in Waterstone’s or the science fiction and fantasy shelves? Powell’s City of Books seems to have this question well addressed: they shelve books that are clearly of two literary veins in both places, allowing such books to be more easily found. For example: You can find novels by Karen Joy Fowler in both the SF/F and literature sections (specifically her novels with a more “fantastic” feel). Granted, Powell’s is a special kind of bookstore, but cross-pollinating books seems like a good way to draw readers in from seemingly separate genres. If we were to come up with a handful of rules bookstores should follow for proper shelving, they would probably be the following: Keep all the labels (science fiction, general fiction, fantasy, mystery, etc.). Shelve books that cross genres in multiple places so as to properly cross-pollinate works that cannot be so easily fixed into the narrowed categories we are familiar with. Don’t fall into the ridiculous trap of “quality” that is often argued by “literary” folks. A book with a spaceship is probably just as fantasy as it is “literary.” Selling books is important for any author. Offer recommendations (either in the form of “we recommend this book” or “if you like A, you might like B”). If possible, have knowledgeable staff in certain genres (optional). Those rules seem like good ones to follow to me. But what do you all think? Obviously not all bookstores can do this; size is a factor. But a lot of them could follow Powell’s example and help drive people out of their comfort zones enough to pursue authors they might never have found because they weren’t labeled a certain thing. In any case, if you have an opinion, let me know in the comments section!
Book Covers: Misrepresentations?
I was at Powell’s City of Books today and while perusing the shelves I noticed that some of books I was forced to read in high school had been redone with flashy new covers. What was disconcerting wasn’t so much that the covers were new–that’s just part of the “classics” sub-industry–but the kinds of covers. In particular was the cover for this edition of Lord of the Flies. If you click the link you’ll see that they’ve designed the cover with an enormous fly and a caricature of what I assume is an English prep-school boy. Oh, and did I mention that this book was in the science fiction/fantasy section? It’s interesting, because while I can see some “fantastic” elements within this particular novel, I would never consider it to be fantasy or science fiction. Most people don’t, actually, and for good reason–it lacks much of what is typical of the genres. But the cover for this particular version gives the impression that the novel itself is perhaps part of the New Weird movement, or at least some sort of fantasy or strange novel. True, Lord of the Flies is certainly strange, but not that strange! I suppose my problem with this is that the impression given by the cover doesn’t reflect well enough the novel itself. Maybe this is an illogical reaction to have. After all, perhaps giving a different impression of this particular book will bring more readers to the classics. That might be a good thing, or it might not (that depends on the reader). What do you all think about misrepresentations on the covers of books? Are there other books you can think of where the cover did not match the book itself? Am I just being ridiculous?
Reader Question: Should Writers Have English Degrees?
(For some reason I did not write down the name of the person who asked this question, nor did I write down where it came from. So, if you asked this, please leave me a comment here letting me know so I can give you credit!) I think at one point people thought that they had to have a creative writing degree or something related in order to be a good writer. Perhaps a lot of people still think this. The reality is that there’s no reason that you have to get a degree to be a writer or to even be a successful one. While creative writing programs can be wonderful, they can also be terrible depending on what you write. Most of what you learn about writing comes not from taking a class, but from reading and doing. You can take every college course imaginable and there still will be no guarantee of you learning how to be a better writer, or that you will get published as a result. This isn’t to say that creative writing programs, or English programs, aren’t beneficial. You certainly can and probably will learn things from a creative writing class and professors of creative writing can help you develop your craft based on their experiences–the hope is, of course, that these professors have a significant publishing career behind them to add credibility to their advice. But the brutal truth is that having a B.A. in creative writing means diddly squat to most editors, and having one doesn’t automatically mean that you’re better than all those also trying to get published who don’t have such a degree. Creative writing programs tend to be a mixed bag. Some are fantastic, some not so much, but none of them can promise to churn out excellent writers–Iowa Writer’s Workshop does have an excellent track record, though, and that might be worth acknowledging if you’re interested in a degree. And then there is the fact that quite a lot of writers who are successful have no degrees whatsoever. Some have degrees not even related to the writing field at all–look at all the scientists who become science fiction writers, etc. Ultimately, it really doesn’t matter if you have a degree or not: you can be a writer either way. If you want a degree, however, get it because you want to have a career that isn’t necessarily based on something so obviously without guarantee. Creative writing degrees are good, but I’ve always seen them as being largely pointless unless you pursue them at the M.A. or PhD. levels. A B.A. in creative writing is essentially even more useless than a B.A. in literature or English–and let’s face it, a B.A. in almost anything is worth less than the cost of printing the certificate; this is the sad state of affairs in the education world. I’d recommend that those who want to eventually have writing careers should have a fallback plan. There is literally no guarantee that you will ever have a writing career, no matter how much work you put into it, no matter how you do it, whether it be traditionally publishing novels or short stories, or doing it on your own. Being conscious of that when pursuing advanced education will help you make an educated decision about your future. What are you willing to do for a career while you try to develop your fiction skills and get the publishing credits you need to reach that point where you can quit your day job? Thinking about that can certainly help ground your career goals. But let’s not leave it up to me. What do all my readers think about this? Leave a comment. ——————– If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!
Self-Publishing: A Clarification (for those who don’t know)
Apparently I’ve raised a tiny bit of a stink over self-publishing based on what I said here, particularly with folks who apparently are not familiar with my full position on self-publishing, which had no purpose being reiterated in that post. So, to make things more clear on my position, I give you this list of points: Self-publishing is not the same as traditional publishing. Self-publishing does not deserve unearned respect. Why? Because anybody can self-publish, and for free these days. You wouldn’t give unnecessary respect to someone who ate a carrot, would you? That’s essentially what is being asked of folks like me, that we should respect the process unconditionally, when there is no difficulty in said process. Self-published authors must earn the respect, and that often means through persistence and hard work; even then, there’s no guarantee. Most self-published novels are crap. That’s reality, not just a talking point. You can cite a dozen novels that are exceptions, but that still does not change the fact that the vast majority of self-published novels are not worth the paper they are printed on. When I say that they are crap, I am specifically talking about the quality of the writing: typos, grammar, style, etc. One could argue endlessly about the merits of plot or character, but when it comes to the quality of the writing itself, there are few, if any, arguments. Crappy writing is crappy writing. Self-publishing is not legitimate. If it were, then you would be able to cite authors who have been successful doing it. But there are basically none. No, Paolini, Scalzi, and the handful of others you could cite do not count primarily because they didn’t become successful, bestselling authors due to self-publishing, but due to being picked up by legitimate presses, which put them in bookstores. There are no bestselling self-published authors, only bestselling former self-published authors. If the form were legitimate, said folks would still be doing it, because why would you bother working with a traditional publisher if you could be just as successful by yourself? Self-publishing will not be legitimate until such time as a filtering system can be put in to weed out the overwhelming majority of garbage. To expect the consumer to figure this out on their own is not only rude, but unacceptable. The consumer expects a certain level of quality in a published work and self-publishing, unfortunately, has not met that demand and won’t until someone can figure out how to make it clear which self-published books are worth spending money on. Telling the consumer to read excerpts to figure out if a self-published book is worth buying is essentially asking the consumer to go out of their way for you. The consumer is not your bitch. Their time is equivalent to money, except that they cannot earn it back. This is another reason why self-publishing is not a successful endeavor for the vast majority of would-be authors: because the consumer has no desire to take gambles or waste their time reading excerpts to figure out if a book is worth their hard-earned dollars when they can just hop on over to Borders and find a book printed by a legitimate press that they know will at least be of a certain written quality. The following are the only reasonable demands to make on a consumer: To look at the price. To look at the cover. To read the dust jacket or the back of the book. To glance inside to see if the writing is in a tense that the consumer likes to read. Self-publishing is not an escape from an evil corporate publishing scheme, because traditional publishing is not an evil corporate publishing scheme. These sorts of untruths are the kinds of things spoken by bitter writers who couldn’t hack it, for various reasons. Vanity presses are evil corporate schemes, and any press that asks you, the author, to pay for the honor of being printed is an evil corporate scheme, even if you’re paying for something as simple as distribution or an ISBN. The reality is, if traditional publishing were such an evil thing, some of the most successful authors in history would not be published through them. After all, writers like Stephen King should just as easily be able to make a living publishing their own work rather than dealing with a traditional press, right? The problem is that people who are against traditional publishing are either delusional or sucked into a self-publishing trap and perpetuate the lies shoved onto the traditional platform. These people do a disservice to self-publishing as a whole by misrepresenting what it actually entails and by ignoring and even lying about what traditional publishing offers. There are some excellent self-published novels. But one great self-published novel does not make up for an overwhelming supply of filth and wasted paper. With tens of thousands of self-published books being thrust on the public, most of them horrendous, you cannot possibly expect the consumer or anyone to wade through to find the good stuff. When I say good, I don’t mean excellent or superb, just good, as in entertaining (gets the job done). This is really the only reasonable expectation by the consumer. I do not begrudge anyone who self-publishes. I wish them all the success in the world, but that does not mean that I am not going to point out a harsh reality. You should know what you are getting yourself into when you self-publish. I will begrudge those who lie and are deceptive about self-publishing. In particular I am thinking about people who create “presses” in order to publish their own work. This gives the consumer the impression that a work is legitimate, but what it actually does is confirm everything I’ve said here: that self-publishing is not legitimate, that it has a stigma attached to it that is not unreasonable, and that said author is much more willing to manipulate and deceive the consumer rather than
Reader Question: To Self-publish or Not to Self-publish, That is the Question
Blondishnet recently asked: What are your thoughts on ‘self-publishing?’ Would you recommend it? And if so, for whom? This is a good question, the answer to which will not be remotely surprising. No, I do not recommend self-publishing except in the following instances: You are writing a family memoir that you only intend family to read. You are making a photo book of some sort and have no intention of selling it. Unless you’re creating something that will only be appealing to people close to you, such as friends and family, avoid self-publishing like the plague. The reason? Because it can damage a potential writing career, there are too many companies that intentionally and unintentionally prey on people who don’t know any better, and almost nobody fully understands what they are getting themselves into when they do self-publish. But I will elaborate here just a bit. When you decide to self-publish you need to face the stark reality that you will not only get absolutely zero respect in the publishing community, because you likely don’t deserve it, and that most likely your writing will be atrocious–and people will notice. Most people who self-publish do not pay for editing services, and those that do rarely pay for decent editing service, settling for line-by-line work, rather than having someone actually tear apart the manuscript. If you’ve been rejected by legitimate publishers, you should probably start asking yourself why. Is it possible that you suck? Or maybe your manuscript isn’t good enough or still needs a lot of work? This isn’t like the short story market where there can often be a flood of good stories that get rejected simply because there isn’t space. Legitimate publishers reject novels for very good reasons and very (and I do mean very) rarely do they reject perfectly good manuscripts–yes, it happens, but when that happens you’ll likely know about it, which should be an encouragement. If your novel was rejected, you should ask yourself why rather than throwing up your hands and self-publishing. And here’s the thing: self-published authors feel like they should get respect by default, as if being published by a firm like Lulu or Booksurge or whatever is the same as being picked up by Tor or Randomhouse or some other legitimate press. You are not the same as Stephen King, because you have opted to cheat the system, a system which works and which pays authors for their writing. In cheating, you’ve put out a manuscript that will most likely be seriously flawed, and now you expect folks to take their hard-earned dollars and give them to you because you say your book is good, even though it was not professionally edited, has a crappy cover, and was essentially paid for by you to be put into print by a company that doesn’t give a flying fig whether your novel is any good. And that’s just it: self-publishing firms DO NOT care if your book is good or utter filth. They want to make a quick buck, and I won’t begrudge them that, except where they lie and misrepresent who they are. And consumers generally know this. How they have managed to become smarter than a lot of writers is beyond me, but consumers are not likely to buy your self-published book when they can get one from a professional publisher for the same price, or cheaper, and have some guarantee of quality. And you can damage your career by self-publishing. You might get lucky and still get published by a real press, but the chances of that are slim to none. Most likely you’ll get so entrenched in the self-publishing world, and even bitter about it, that you’ll never leave it. In the process you’ll lose out on any chance to not only improve your craft, but to also develop a career. Self-publishing is also manipulative. Yes, there are decent companies out there that do a fine job of not misrepresenting what they do (such as Lulu), but there are also a lot of companies out there that will do everything they can to snatch up your book and make you pay to have it printed. They prey on the unsuspecting author and are the only ones who profit from it. Be smart about your writing. If you honestly think it is good, don’t give up after a few rejections. Keep trying. Just because you’re having it rough now doesn’t mean you won’t get a break later. You won’t get anywhere by giving up, and there are a lot of benefits to persisting in the writing world. Self-publishing should only be the answer if you have a certain kind of product, but if you do decide to self-publish your fiction, be fully aware of what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t expect respect and come to grips with the reality that you will be looked down upon as an inferior author for legitimate reasons. You’ll have to work even harder to get anywhere as a self-published author, and if you’re willing to put that kind of effort there, why wouldn’t you do it in the more legitimate market? Self-publishing certainly has some benefits (you have greater control of your intellectual property), but again, is it worth it? I say not. ————————— If you have a question you’d like answered, whether silly or serious, feel free to send an email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, send a twitter message to @shaunduke, or leave a comment here or anywhere. 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