This is the second definition for fanwanking in the Urban Dictionary:

To fill in plot holes or explain away lapses in continuity in fictional works by coming up with (often convoluted) explanations of how it could have happened.

“But David used Sarah’s real name even though he never knew her before she changed her identity.”

“He could have read her file. He had access to it in episode seventeen and there were a few minutes when he could have flicked through it.”

As someone who spent much of her adolescence in fandom, I’ve spent a whole lot of time fanwanking. I still do it. Take the Avengers movie for example: You know when Banner Hulks out and chases Black Widow, clearly without any control? Can’t distinguish friend from enemy? And you know how he’s totally chill at the end of the movie?

Yeeeaahh. My excuse was, “Maybe he can control it when he consciously chooses to Hulk out?”

That’s all fine and dandy, but here’s the thing: I don’t think audiences should have to flail around for missing information or pain-stakingly plug plot holes. As a writer, I think that’s my job. My mantra: Put it on the page.

I don’t mean subtext or reading between the lines. I mean obvious things. When my CPs lovingly shred my work, I can’t say, “The climax wasn’t anti-climactic at all. The secondary characters were off having dramatic show-downs of their own. Off-page. It was very exciting.”

Or: “What do you mean, ‘convenient’ breakthrough? Lucy actually Googled that info between chapters seven and eight. Yes, those chapters lead directly into each other. She… took a quick Internet break…?”

All this seems obvious, but it’s astounding how much we have in our heads that never makes it onto the page.

Sometimes, that’s intentional; I may want to save explanations for a sequel. I can still hint at the missing parts, though. Make my character wonder what’s up. Mention the dangling plot point or odd mood swing.

I’ll simply have to make it clear, in whatever way I choose, that I’m consciously omitting X or Y. It’s not an oversight. I’m just being a puppet master.

Cackling goes [here.]

This goes for details, too: How did the character get back home when her car broke down last chapter? Is she exhausted from walking for hours? Did she call a taxi? Is her car in the shop?

Nobody wants to know every aspect of a character’s life, but if I make a big deal out of something, I try to follow through. An off-hand mention may keep the reader from wondering about unimportant consequences. Instead, I want them invested in my sparkling plot.

So let’s extend this “put it in writing!” mantra to problems beyond plot holes.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen people criticize authors or directors for writing about entirely straight/white worlds, only to hear, “Jeez, of course they exist, it just wasn’t relevant to the story! My world isn’t all-white at all!”

In one memorable case, the reaction was, “What are you talking about? My show has three queer characters. YOU’RE the homophobe for assuming everyone is straight.”

I don’t think it’s fair to whip out information that’s only in the author’s head and claim it’s just as canon as what’s in the books/show. It seems like a cop-out: “I’m not sure how to write a convincing gay character/it might cut down on my audience. I’ll just not mention it in the book and appease those who complain in online interviews. Win-win!”

It’s rarely intended that way, but the effect is the same: no visible representation.

Besides, what about people who never read creator interviews? Would they have an incomplete understanding of the material? For example, I’m convinced that people who watched the original The Amazing Spider-Man trailers and read interviews and articles have a different view of the story than those who only saw the movie.

“It exists in my head!” doesn’t–shouldn’t–work as a defense against criticism, be it regarding plot holes or minority representation.

The book is all most readers have. And if it’s not on those pages, it doesn’t exist.

I know I promised to get back to talking about writing stuff instead of autism stuff, but, well, plans change. (Sorry.)

Earlier today, the lovely Beth Cato linked to this article on Twitter–Autism Awareness is Not Enough: Here’s How to Change the World–and I loved it so much I had to post about it. This will be my new go-to article when explaining the autistic rights movement and neurodiversity to people.

If you’re interested in autism at all, I highly recommend taking the time to read the full thing. After an important introduction, fifteen people with close connections to autism–self-advocates, parents, teachers, and combinations thereof–are asked to share five thoughts on how to make the world more inclusive to people with autism. I don’t agree with every viewpoint, but I do agree with the vast majority–and the viewpoints I don’t agree with are still important enough that people should read and consider them to understand where people are coming from.

Since it’s such a long read, and because so many points made me want to jump up and cheer, I made a selection of my favorite quotes–one for each of the people interviewed.

(I also added my own ‘advice’ at the end.)

Lydia Brown:

Accept us. Autism is a part of who we are. As sure as skin color or sexual orientation, we cannot change being Autistic. Acceptance starts by understanding that we are not broken, defective, or diseased. We do not need to be fixed or cured. There is nothing wrong with us. Yes, autism is a disability, and yes, some Autistic people are very severely disabled. Accepting our autism does not mean ignoring or denying disability; it means accepting us for who we are, as we are.

Continue reading “Autistic Perspectives” »

Usually, I just rant on Autism Awareness Day. This time, I figured I’d chill out and actually talk about my experiences with autism and why awareness is important to me.

I do have to get my annual Autism Awareness Day requests out of the way first, though:

• Please do not donate to Autism Speaks. The vast majority of their income goes to research so they can eradicate autism, instead of supporting existing autistic people; they use incorrect statistics; they create advertisements that paint autistic people as monsters and burdens; they fearmonger, they lie, and for an organization that calls itself Autism Speaks, they don’t seem to care one whit of what actual autistic people have to say, given that they have no autistic individuals on their board.
• Instead, if you feel the need to donate, please consider ASAN–the Autistic Self Advocacy Network. Nothing About Us Without Us.
• Many blog posts today will spread misinformation, make gross simplifications, be condescending, and generally ignore autistic individuals in favor of talking about their non-autistic family. Please avoid playing into this trend.
• (Also avoid using the puzzle piece symbol, if you could.)
• If you want to learn more about autism, please try to get this information from autistic people, and not solely from families or organizations. We should not be shut out of these discussions.

Okay.

The below is very personal, and not always cheerful. If that makes you uncomfortable, you probably want to look away. I promise you, we’ll go right back to our regular writing-related ramblings later this week.

Looking at me, people would not peg me as autistic. I stim–usually by rocking back and forth or tapping my foot–but not outrageously so. I can communicate clearly and effectively. I am social, excitable, and have no problems recognizing expressions or moods. Although I’m sensitive to sound and touch, I’m unlikely to have extreme reactions.

(Well, I once kicked my grandmother when she tickled me without warning. Sorry, Grandma.)

All of that means that I’m privileged. Complete strangers won’t look at me with pity or condescension. People will never call me a retard. I’m capable of taking care of myself, and I can manage friendships and relationships.

So why is autism awareness important to me?

Because without awareness–the good kind of awareness, not the trendy kind that focuses on little kids only–people don’t believe that I’m autistic. Family, classmates, teachers, co-workers, government officials, my own doctor. When people hear about the problems I do have, they’ll disregard them, because, hey, look at me! I’m young. I’m normal. Clearly I’m in that group of kids who were misdiagnosed as autistic, and now I’m taking full advantage of it. I’m doing this for attention!

I’m… not doing this for attention.

This is how autism has affected my life: I had my first suicidal thoughts at eight, and had to drop out of high school at fourteen because school–with so many people and classes and demands and responsibilities–meant that I could no longer walk down a street without wanting to throw myself in the path of an oncoming car.

I’m no longer suicidal or even depressed. I like my life. I like myself. I’ve improved by leaps and bounds. I even dig my autism, because for all the bad things it’s caused, it’s done a lot of good things, too. Above all, it’s part of me.

But: I’m on disability benefits, because even working one or two afternoons a week caused so much stress that I struggled to get anything done around the house. I’ve never been able to eat normally, and will gag uncontrollably when made to eat food I can’t handle. I’ve consciously had to train my social skills; I was very proud when I finally learned to say ‘Have a good night!’ to people. (Unfortunately, I blurted it out during mornings and afternoons as well.)

I can talk about how I prefer certain shapes of forks or how I can’t handle certain sounds or how I still can’t make eye contact or how when I get stressed sometimes I’ll slap myself in the back of the neck, but what it comes down to is this: That I’m doing well doesn’t mean I’m any less autistic. Put me back in school, give me a job, force me to eat a normal meal, put me in a situation I can’t deal with, and I’ll go right back to freaking out because I never built up a script to deal with those situations.

Like I said–I generally like my life. I don’t want pity. What I do want is understanding, and that’s why awareness–the good kind–matters. I have learned to adapt to the rest of the world so much, and if there’s things left that I can’t do… please take my word for it. Please don’t think I’m taking it easy on myself. Please don’t laugh in my face and go, “Oh, please, like you’re autistic!” Please don’t tell me a positive attitude is all I need to hold down a job.

It’s not encouraging. It’s not a compliment. And it’s not true.

I am at peace with my limitations, and I wish more other people could be, too.

Thank you for reading this.

The official advice here, of course, is to never say “everyone”. Your audience is people aged [X] to [Y]. Your audience is people interested in topic [Z], or fans of authors [ABC].

In reality, your audience is all kinds of people. You never know who will read your book.

So when you make a joke about rape, when you superficially touch on racism without having ever experienced it, when you use words used to put down groups you’ve never belonged to…

Don’t think, “Well, I’m allowed to use this word. I’m allowed to write about whatever I want. Why would this hurt anyone?”

It doesn’t matter what you’re allowed to do. It doesn’t matter what you intend to do. What matters is the consequences.

If you have your character fiercely defend not being gay, how do you think queer teenagers will like reading your book, knowing that their very identity is something to forcefully distance yourself from?

If your protagonists use the word retard freely, you can say, “That’s just how kids talk.” That’s true. Do you think disabled teens care when they read that? Or do you think they cringe when they see that word thoughtlessly coming from a person they’re supposed to cheer for?

When you make a trans joke, do you think, “Hah, this is hilarious,” or do you pause to think of how all the damn trans jokes in the entire cruel world help make trans teens feel?

Are you going to make your books adventures everyone can read about and enjoy without once feeling that stab of, why did this author have to go there, too? I’ve felt that stab hundreds of times. It hurts, and I am tired of it, and I am tired of having books I want to love shut me out.

Your audience is not composed of you.

If you’re a member of a majority group, you don’t get any say in what is and isn’t okay. You don’t get any say in what is and isn’t hurtful, because the edge of the blade is pointed away from you. That sword is never, ever going to stab you.

Are you going to continue stabbing others with it?

I don’t like to spend too much time on publishing drama. As worked up as I can get over things, I try to have a positive attitude about things, especially in this here blog. No one wants to read about a sourpuss unless they’re spectacularly witty, and that’s just too much of an effort, frankly.

Since there have been Big Developments in the whole queer YA thing though, ie. the agent giving her side of the story, I figured not posting a follow-up might be sort of weird.

In short, I’m irritated. I’m irritated because, until someone produces a recording of the original phone conversation, none of us can know the truth, yet people are throwing around accusations of liars, of manipulators, of homophobes and hoaxes. People are accusing those who spread the original story of being part of an unthinking angry mob, and accusing Rose Fox of Publishers Weekly of not fact-checking properly. (How was she supposed to do that, anyway, given that the authors expressly wanted to keep the agent’s identity quiet, and practically no agent would ever admit to making those requests?)

Yeah, sure, before the rebuttal, people wondered who the agent was and wondering if the situation was that black-and-white, and there were a few things lobbied about that got my hackles up — hence my first post — but overall, people were focusing on the bigger picture. They were talking about buying queer books, and agents and editors were clarifying their openness to books with queer content.

Since the rebuttal, well…

Scott Westerfeld said it best: “I feel foolish for getting only one side of the story. But I’ll make up for it by uncritically accepting the other side!” -the Internets

I don’t know the authors, but I know enough people who have vouched for them that I refuse to believe this is a publicity stunt or hoax of any kind. I don’t know the agent, either, but I don’t think there was any malicious intent there either and I don’t think I care enough to debate it.

Why? Because it doesn’t matter to the larger issue at hand.

(Still irritated here, for the record.)

People are accusing the agents of this and the authors of that. People are saying, see, this was a malicious hoax, there was never any problem in the first place! People are defending the publishing industry and the openness of the YA genre. They don’t know any agents or editors who would request such a change! And look at all these (half a dozen) authors who had no problems getting their queer characters published! And the original post was dubious, anyway, ’cause this could never happen in their utopian YA world where Wicked Pretty Things was a collective hallucination and LIAR never had a white girl on the cover and and and…

Well, it has happened. Often. Whatever happened in this particular case doesn’t take away that less than half a percent of published YA feature significant queer characters–not even main characters per se. It doesn’t take away that various other authors have stepped forward to say that, guess what, editors and agents have asked them to de-queer their characters.

Focus on those facts. Because those facts? They indicate a problem. And that’s what matters.

I love YA, and I love the YA community. We can do better.

Stepping off my soapbox now, since I’m getting a little snarkier than intended, but first! Obligatory linkage to smart, smart people:

Scott Tracey refutes some of the arguments that have come up over the past few days.

Cleolinda Jones has a long, fantastic round-up of this entire situation, including various experiences by authors who’ve been asked to remove queer characters from their books.

Kate Hart at YA Highway rounds up the various opinions on both sides.

K. Tempest Bradford shares her observations.

I know, right? None of you would EVER have expected this from me! Ever! In a million years! I mean, I keep my support of queer books firmly to myself most of the time, so–

Yeah, okay, let’s move on.

For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, check out this post at Publishers Weekly. Short version: Two authors co-wrote a book. The book has five point of view characters. One of these characters is gay and has a same-gender relationship. They get a big-time agent (still unidentified) interested in representing their work… on the condition that they either remove the gay PoV or make the character straight. (They had permission to have him come out of the closet in a sequel, though. Yay?)

I’m guessing y’all know why that’s unacceptable, so I won’t linger on that. Basically, just read the post, especially the advice near the end, and browse the comments. This is not an isolated occurrence. (The kerfuffle earlier this year surrounding Jessica Verday’s short story made that abundantly clear.)

One point I did want to make–and something I’ve seen most people echo, thankfully–is that the agent’s reasons for requesting these changes don’t matter. Whatever her personal biases or lack thereof, requesting a change like this contributes to the marginalization of an already underrepresented group.

However, not everyone agrees. I’ve seen these arguments mentioned in defense of the agent, or in disagreement with all the outrage spreading in the Twittersphere:

* It’s an editing decision. Agents should be allowed to edit/make suggestions. YES, that’s true. Maybe the agent thought five characters was too many, was bogging down the story, or the gay character’s PoV added nothing new to the story. This entire argument is invalid given the current situation. Obviously, this decision was about the character’s gayness, or she wouldn’t have presented straightening him out as an option. In general, though, I think such arguments only hold water if they’re backed up by those reasons (“remove this PoV or it won’t sell” vs “it drags down the pacing for such and such reason”). I’ve seen various authors mention that they had such criticisms on their queer-themed novels and none of them blamed the agents for homophobia. This isn’t an argument people are making, so there’s no reason to, er, argue it.

If there’s a sensible editorial reason for “make the character straight instead of gay”, I’d love to hear it. Like agent Sarah LaPolla pointed out: When would sexual orientation ever “not work?” Does a character’s straightness ever get in the way of plot?

Yes, if an inordinate amount of time is spent on the character’s relationship or coming out or dealing with homophobia or whatever, and it takes away from the meat of the story, that’s a valid editorial comment. Those could go for straight characters just as well. Again, that’s not what we’re arguing here. 

* It’s a marketing decision. Queer romances don’t sell as well as straight romances. She just wanted to increase the potential audience. But that’s not the book that’s written. By that logic you should never write a niche book because hey! It could have more commercial appeal!

The last thing we need is to shove queer characters back into hiding. People can’t buy these books if they don’t exist. How can we ever expect queer characters to be commonly accepted–especially as PoV characters–if they’re never let past the gatekeepers?

* This is just a fluke. Most agents and editors are completely open to queer content. For a perfect take-down of this argument, I’d like to direct you to this post by Rick Lipman, who writes about how it’s a sign of remarkable privilege just how many people are shocked by this.

Also, Robin Talley points out how this probably happens way more often than we hear, it’s just often invisible. She also speculates on the difference between queerness in contemporary and SF/F novels.

Lastly, Rachel Manija Brown, one of the authors of the novel that caused all this, compiled a list of queer characters in SF/F YA, with commentary. I definitely need to check out some of these.

And I also need to get back to writing BLINK so it can join that list one day. Front-and-center lesbian romance FTW!

Yesterday, I said I had faith I’d be able to solve those remaining three plot problems soon enough. Today, I’m down to one. Boo-yah!

Anyway, before I get back to problem-solving, ie. scribbling furiously in my notebook, here’s some things that caught my eye this past week:

Maggie Stiefvater is brilliant as usual, talking about first lines and first pages and how to pace a novel.

Katey Hawthorne (more commonly referred to as K.V. Taylor or just ‘Katey’ around these parts) had her very first book release last week! It’s a Loose Id paranormal romance called Equilibrium, and it’s about boys with superpowers. Best thing ever, y/y?

Wait, Holly Black’s White Cat cover is whitewashed?

Signal boost: A small-town library destroyed in Irene needs your help.

The delightful Beth Cato has a new story out at Daily Science Fiction. It’s short and solid. Take a look if you have a few minutes!

Dagan Books is looking for a slush reader. These people make very pretty books.

Agent Mary Kole has a post up to help people looking for critique partners.

Also, I have a new phone. It’s my first Android phone. It is very shiny. This is not a link, but I wanted you to know, anyway.

So, the dreaded Autism Awareness Day is here, and… uh… I’m not quite sure what to write. When I have something to say about autism, I just say it, so I’ve got nothing in particular to say or recommend right now.

So instead, let’s steer away from the soapboxing and focus on REALLY AWESOME THINGS.

Like:

• Remember my post about Animorphs and whitewashing? Scholastic responded, and they did it awesomely. I’m so, so happy right now.
• That super fancy netbook I mentioned on Thursday? It’s arriving today! It’s a shiny white Samsung N210, and can’t wait to get my hands on it and get it ready for lift-off for when my Pixel Qi screen arrives next week.
• Also thing from that post on Thursday… I forgot to list another geeky movie I’m cautiously excited about. Namely, X-Men: First Class. Which also has a semicolon in its name. I’m starting to smell a conspiracy of some sort.
• People were completely lovely in commenting on, linking to & retweeting yesterday’s post on Autism Awareness Day. Thank you!
• There’s more good news. Really good news, in fact, which… I can’t post about until tomorrow. I can’t wait to share! (And no, it’s not a book deal. *g*)

One of these days, I will write a blog post that does not include lists.

… it’s a skill that clearly needs developing.

I know I’m not alone in fearing April Fools. I’m one of those really gullible people who doesn’t much like being pranked, so today is a minefield. I trust no one. No one.

I’ve got my eyes on you.

Even worse, right after April 1st comes… April 2nd. (Shocker, I know). And April 2nd is Autism Awareness Day.

Warning: SOAPBOXING AHEAD.

And I know people mean well. I do. But I’ve been dreading this day for weeks. Last year, I had to cringe my way through Twitter and Google Reader. This day seems to be aimed primarily at the clueless, and it feels odd to experience a day that’s about me, but not by me and apparently not for me, either. I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen people talk about the families and caretakers of people with autism while completely forgetting that the actual people with autism should also be taken into account.

Basically… good intentions mean very little when the end result is still hurtful, patronising, or just plain offensive.

So I’ve got two basic requests for anyone who wants to post about Autism Awareness Day:

1. If you don’t know a lot about autism — or even if you do! — please tread very carefully. I know awareness is important, and I know people just want to help, but please realize that many topics aren’t black-and-white within the autism community as they seem to be outside of it. Things like cures, early detection, high-functioning/low-functioning, autism-as-disease, vaccines as even a possible cause of autism, the increasing prevalence, teaching kids to appear/act normal… All of these are controversial and hotly debated within the autism community, and it’s super weird — and rather off-putting — to see total outsiders bring up/take sides on these topics without even realizing there might be another side to them.

   Keep in mind that people with autism also browse the web (hi, that’d be me!) and might also read your posts. The overwhelming majority of posts on Autism Awareness Day make me feel like an object of pity, like a problem to be solved, like people don’t even consider that I might be reading their post, or like people like me — ie. autistic adults — don’t even exist. Is that how you want to make the people you’re trying to help feel?

2. Do not ask people to donate to Autism Speaks. Do not use stats from Autism Speaks. Do not mention Autism Speaks in any positive way.

   I know this seems glib, but I’m serious. I could go into the reasons for this, but… well, I don’t really want to clog up this blog with my rants. If you’re really interested, shoot me an e-mail. (Or simply Google “autism speaks controversy”. There are many, many pages to leaf through. Focus on posts by autistic people.)

… and I’ve also got two basic requests for anyone who wants to Do Good on Autism Awareness Day without actually posting about it:

1. Seek out blog posts by autistic people. Remember who this day is supposed to be about. An outside perspective is often a skewed perspective. I absolutely value the opinions and experiences of those living with autistic people — but in media these days, those voices overpower the voices of those autistic people themselves. We are being shut out of our own conversations. That’s not how it should be.
2. If you want to donate to an organization — kudos to you! — try hunting down self-advocacy groups. Many autism organizations (like The One That Must Not Be Named a.k.a. The One I Named Earlier In This Post) don’t have a single person with autism on the board. That seems a little iffy, don’t you think?

Autism has been getting a lot of attention these past years, and the side effects of that are that people are more keen on helping out than ever, which I appreciate — but it also means that people are more clueless than ever due to the rampant misinformation and the prevalence of non-autistic voices in this discussion.

So what I’m asking is this: Do your research. Talk to autistic people in your vicinity or online. That way, if you want to help, you’ll be able to do it so much better. I’m all for awareness, but it needs to be the right kind.

I know this is short notice, but if anyone has a post prepared for tomorrow, I’d be happy to take a look, share my thoughts good and bad, and explain anything you might be confused about — even if I don’t have the faintest idea who you are. Just e-mail me and I’ll get back to you as fast as I can — definitely on time for you to post it tomorrow. Just be aware that I won’t hold back; only send it in if you genuinely want my thoughts.

I promise, I have actual blog posts to write. I just need to… you know… write them.

In the meantime, here are a couple of unrelated tidbits.

• I read four books in January and four books in February. For me, that’s a lot. In March, I read only one book. The clear connection here: in March, I actually tried to be productive. It didn’t work out exactly as planned, but it did mean that I felt far too guilty to be spending time reading when I ought to edit or write instead. Interesting to realize these things; I’ll need to organize my future book-reading accordingly.
• I’m sure everyone has heard about the Wicked Pretty Things drama by now. If not, the short version is that Jessica Verday wrote a story which contained a relationship between two teenage boys for an upcoming anthology. The editor requested that one of the boys would be rewritten as a girl, instead, as she believed an M/M romance would not be acceptable. Jessica Verday ended up pulling her story in protest — followed by a lot of other authors from that anthology doing the same thing, as well as a handful of authors pulling their stories from different anthologies by the same editor. I’m still sorting out my feelings over some of the fall-out, but I do know one thing: I am incredibly, incredibly heartened by the uniformly supportive responses to come out of this.

  While Fae Print has a straight lead, various other projects I have in the pipeline — including the Fae Print sequel — do not. Representation matters. It was important to me to find an agent who supported me in this, and I’m thrilled that I did (yay Agent Michael!), but I’ve worried a lot over the years about the responses to and market for queer leads. Even queer secondary characters seem to be rare. That’s why seeing authors, editors and agents coming out in support of queer leads as loudly as they have is, well, amazing. I can only hope that this support will show through over the next few years in the increase of queer leads in YA — especially SFF YA.

• I forgot to mention a classic I read in that blog post from the other week. I’ve also read Ira Levin’s The Stepford Wives. (Does that count as a classic? Please tell me it does. I need to pad that list!)

• Remember how I squeed about that tablet with the fancy screen coming out this year? For various reasons, I’ve chosen not to buy it. Instead, I ordered a separate Pixel Qi screen and a compatible netbook. The former is currently with a friend in America and will be arriving here mid-April, and the latter will be mailed out tomorrow. I can’t wait to spend the summer working out in the sun.
• I have far, far too many exciting projects I want to work on, and I love each and every one of them to pieces. I want to write all the books!
• My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic is the cutest thing ever. I think I love Pinkie Pie best of all. Or Fluttershy. Or Rainbow Dash! Or maybe Twilight Sparkle… #nerdponylove

• I thought Captain America: The First Avenger was coming out in 2012? I only just found out it’s actually coming out in July. Between that, Harry Potter, and Thor, I’m going to have a delightfully geeky summer. (Green Lantern doesn’t interest me much — I don’t know much about the character and the trailer didn’t look that great.)
• OH EM GEE The Last Airbender: The Legend of Korra is going to be a-ma-zing. This honestly looks like it could be my favourite cartoon ever. It has everything I loved about the original series, with extra awesome chick and steampunk goodness.
• … how come all three those things I just mentioned had colons in their names?