Galactic Suburbia is a bi-weekly (or, as they say in Australia, fortnightly) podcast, which exists to call attention to feminist issues in the speculative fiction world. In each episode, Tansy Rayner Roberts, Alex Pierce, and Alisa Krasnostein talk about news and noteworthy events, and then discuss the culture they’ve consumed. These conversations are open and fun, and often draw my attention to aspects of books and television shows that I wouldn’t have considered otherwise. I’ve been a fan for a while now, and I’ve mentioned that on this blog, in my own podcast, and during panels at conventions.

Given that, I was absolutely delighted and a bit flummoxed to find OA Podcast #11 on their Honours List. They chose to recognize me along with Kirstyn McDermott and Ian Mond, hosts of one of my other favorite podcasts, The Writer and the Critic. Since several people have told me that episode #11 was their favorite OA Podcast episode, I must give Ian and Kirstyn the bulk of the credit here. They were wonderful guests.

I also want to congratulate everyone else on the Honours List. Special congratulations to Michele Lee, who is an OA member, and the first person I ever interviewed for this blog; and to Cheryl Morgan, who has been an active OA member from the start, and whose thoughtful posts often give me a new perspective on things to do with gender and spec fic. Seriously, though, everyone on the Honours List has done wonderful things, and I admire all of them.

Most exciting of all, perhaps, is this year’s winner. Nicola Griffith (also an OA member!) gets to take home a hand painted Galactic Suburbia Deepings doll for her Russ Pledge idea. Nicola called for everyone to read and talk about women’s writing, and people listened! Several book challenges and blog posts and podcast discussions started because of Nicola’s idea, and the conversation seems to be gaining momentum even now.

Two weeks ago, I was on a “How Not to Suppress Women’s Writing” panel at Arisia, which existed because of the Russ Pledge conversation opener. Andrea Hairston, who is one of the Guests of Honor for WisCon this year, was  our moderator, and we spent the session recommending books, talking about how to keep the conversation going, and exploring resources for news and other things like that (I actually recommended Galactic Suburbia there). It was a great panel, and lots of strangers stopped me later to tell me how much they’d gotten out of it. I’m so glad to see Nicola being recognized for her contribution.

Congratulations, Nicola! And congratulations to Carrie Goldman and Katie, Cheryl Morgan, Helen Merrick, Jim C. Hines, Kirstyn McDermott, Ian Mond, L. Timmel Duchamp, and Michele Lee! I think you’re all the bee’s knees, and I’m thrilled to  be in your company.

You can hear the Galactic Suburbia team explaining their choices for this award in a special podcast episode. A written explanation is here.

They’re also looking for nominees for the 2012 award, so if you see someone doing something wonderful to advance the feminist conversation, be sure to let them know!

Earlier this week over at Genreville, Rose Fox lent her blog to Sherwood Smith and Rachel Manija Brown so that they could share their experience submitting a post-apocalyptic YA novel with a gay point of view character. They wrote about how an agent offered them representation if they’d change that character to make him straight.

Rose asked for honest conversation, and in the days since that post went live, I’ve seen hundreds of responses. Several agents and editors have publicly said they’re open to/actively hoping to see LGBTQIA content in their submissions piles, a representative from the agency in question responded claiming it had all been a misunderstanding, the #YesGayYA hashtag on Twitter took off and was full of recommendations and discussion, and many people have taken this as another prompt to point out their favorite YA books with non-straight characters. So that’s all good and happy and we’re done, right?

Not so fast.

As Sherwood and Rachel pointed out in their first post (in which, I note, they deliberately chose not to name the agent in question so as to focus on the larger problem):

Forcing all major characters in YA novels into a straight white mold is a widespread, systemic problem which requires long-term, consistent action.

In their personal blogs, in response to the agency’s post, they add:

This is why we went public: After the initial exchange a month ago, we spoke in private to a number of other writers, without mentioning the name of the agent or agency. There was an overwhelming response of “Me too!” Many other writers had been asked by agents and editors to alter or remove the minority identity of their characters, sometimes as a condition of representation or sale. Sometimes those identities had been altered by editors without the writers’ knowledge or permission.

…

We urge you all to continue focusing on the bigger picture.

The bigger picture does seem to be something everyone involved professes to care about, so let’s take a look at it.

Not every author has major trouble around this kind of thing. Malinda Lo‘s Ash, a retelling of Cinderella in which the main character happens to be a lesbian (and no one in her world thinks that’s strange or anything!), seems to have had a fairly easy road to publication, for instance. This spring, she wrote a long post about how little homophobia she’s had to deal with in her professional life. In that post, she pointed out the difference between personal homophobia and cold hard marketing numbers crunching. Then, this week, she crunched some numbers and made some colorful graphs and charts. These numbers are encouraging in some ways, and very discouraging in others.

Encouraging:

*All the major publishing houses consistently put out at least one YA book with LGBTQIA main or supporting characters each year.

*The numbers dropped sharply in 2010, but rose again in 2011.

*There has been at least one trans or genderqueer character each year.

Discouraging:

*The number of YA books with LGBTQIA main or major supporting characters comprises less than or about 1% of all the YA books out there. Now, the lowest estimates I usually see about LGBTQIA people tend to say that we make up about 10% of the general population. If that’s correct, 1% is a rather low representation.

*Of the LGBTQIA YA books out there, 50% are about gay males. This means Lesbians, bi people of all genders, genderqueer, trans, questioning, asexual, and intersex people are even more under-represented in YA than gay males.

*Very few of these books feature LGBTQIA characters as the protagonist of the book. Many have LGBTQIA supporting young characters (the gay best friend, etc.), or parent/guardian characters instead.

*Many of the books with LGBTQIA characters as the protagonist are Issue Books. That is to say, they’re about the struggles associated with accepting one’s gender identity and/or sexual orientation. While these kinds of books are good to have around, by being the overwhelming majority of this tiny subset of YA books, they’re also contributing to a general sense that LGBTQIA people are not normal. If all queer stories feature people trying to accept their LGBTQIA identities, then what we’re saying as a society, is that having an LGBTQIA identity is something that isn’t easily acceptable. Do we really want to be telling ourselves that? What I hear over and over from members of the community is that we’d love to see more books where people are queer as a matter of course and not as an issue which requires great personal struggles. I think many of us would love to see more books like Ash, in which the protagonist’s orientation is not an issue, and her journey is about more than coming out or learning to accept her identity.

*Out of the eleven LGBTQIA YA books on Malinda’s list, which were published in 2010, only one was a specfic book.  YA is a major market for specfic. In almost every bookstore I’ve gone into in the last two years, there’ve been separate sections for non-specfic YA and specfic YA, because there was just so much YA specfic out there. So the fact that only one book on that 2010 list is a specfic book? Is really sad to me. I haven’t counted the other years. Maybe they’re better. But I’m betting the numbers are still pretty low.

Below are a few collected responses to this debate:

Seanan McGuire (AKA Mira Grant) wrote a great post about what she wants to see in fiction.

When I talk about wanting diversity in my YA, I’m not asking for more specifically “queer YA.” I love it, I want to see it keep getting published, I think it’s important, and I think it’s not the point of this particular sword. What I want is paranormal romance where the lead is in love with the head cheerleader, not the head jock. What I want is heist books and con men where it’s Mike and Dan, not Mike and Dawn.

Nicola Griffith wrote a post and included a video of her telling the story of her struggles getting attention for her book, Slow River.

I think just about every queer author has been through this. I imagine people of colour go through it, too. We all choose whether or not to walk away. I dealt with this in 1994–instantly, satisfyingly (though it was a jaw-dropping shock).

Dennis Upkins wrote a post, which supported Nicola’s musing about people of color facing under-representation.

Do you honestly think this was an isolated incident or these kind of attitudes are happening in a vacuum?

This is most pervasive of the industry as a whole.

Ask yourself how many novels there are out there in mainstream speculative fiction that feature LGBTQs, particularly gay males, as the primary protagonists? For that matter ask yourselves how many mainstream speculative novels feature POCs, or better yet how many feature queer POCs.

Corinne Duyvis posted a roundup of arguments and counter arguments about this issue (well worth reading all of them if you have the time).

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.

Scott Tracey posted about his experience getting his book with a gay protagonist, Witch Eyes, published.

I don’t like to talk about it, because I still feel like someone’s going to come and rap my knuckles with a ruler, but WITCH EYES had it’s moments.  I had agents who said there wasn’t a market for a paranormal with a gay character who had a romance.  I had editors suggest they would reconsider the book if Braden and Trey became Brenda and Trey.  Or if I removed the romance and made it a straight girl/gay guy buddy comedy.

Scott asks us to buy more LGBTQIA YA if we want to see more published. I think that’s a really important thing to do, but it only works if we have LGBTQIA YA books available to buy.Which brings us to our ending point for today.

Rick Lipman wrote a post about his experiences being a young queer reader and writer. His ending words bring us straight to the heart of this issue:

Listen. I am not that old. When I was growing up, there were no gay characters. And then, when there were, it was Will & Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. I did not get to see people like me in books, or on television, or as superheroes. We were not mainstream. We were not acceptable or appropriate for public consumption.

I’m 24 years old. Times have changed a lot in recent years, but to act like there isn’t still a long road of progress ahead is arrogance, plain and simple. I didn’t grow up with role models or stories of my own.

It is unconscionable to me that teens today may still be in the same position.

I’m going to leave it there for today, but I welcome further discussion. I’m not particularly interested in attacks on or defenses of Sherwood, Rachel, or the agency in question, though. I’d rather we keep this discussion to the larger issue, because this isn’t about three people; it’s about all of us.

These issues are still very much alive and kicking in the LGBTQI community, so perhaps it should come as no surprise that in the past couple of days, I have seen people express both excitement and discomfort at the LLF’s new  awards guidelines. It seems that Lambda Literary is trying to appease everyone with their proposed change (most awards open to anyone regardless of orientation, some awards limited to particular groups), but their exclusive categories are too exclusive for many members of the LGBTQI community.

In particular there are categories meant for debut novel to be awarded to a lesbian and a gay man, and then mid-career awards for a female-identified person and a male-identified person. By these rules, I (an openly bi-identifed person, who is active in the LGBTQI community) would not be eligible in the debut category, and many of my friends would not be eligible in these special categories because their genders are fluid or non-binary. This is troubling because I’m pretty sure we’re all the sorts of people LLF would like to include, not exclude.

But don’t take my word for it! Have some links to ponder!

Rose Fox (a past Lambda judge) posted an open letter, in which she dissects the wording of the special categories and explains why she finds it troubling. Rose also includes the brief response she received from Dr. Judith Markowitz, which, alas, doesn’t clear matters up much.

Cheryl Morgan posted her thoughts on the matter, and received several interesting comments from previous Lambda winners and judges like Rick Bowes, Roz Kaveney, and Cecilia Tan as well. Do read the comments on that post!

Nicola Griffith (who is no longer a member of the LLF board, but still interested in the LLF’s work) posted a call for, “… a full and frank discussion of these issues. The Lambda Literary Foundation needs to address trans and bi visibility, equality, and accessibility. Or it should bill itself not as an LGBT organisation but LG(bt).” Nicola also points to an example of someone who disagrees with the removal of the self-identified LGBT authors only requirement, in case you’re curious to see what people have to say about that.

Shaun Duke also weighs in on the issue, and we’ll end with his last line: “ When an important award which is supposed to celebrate LGBT issues in literature doesn’t get how its policies discriminate against its own target demographic, then something is seriously wrong…”

Have you got thoughts about this issue? Please feel free to share them in the comments here, or on the OA google group. We do love lively and frank discussion.

A Gay (Straight) Girl (Man) in Damascus (Edinburgh) by Ali Abbas and Assia Boundaoui is an explanation of the damage the Amina hoax did from two “New York based writers and freelance-journalists that submitted a blood test and birth certificate to affirm that the above thoughts are their own analysis based on a lifetime of Arab and or queer and or American and or woman identification.”

White Privilege and the ‘Gay Girl in Damascus’ is an NPR segment in which Brian Spears (a white man) talks about white male privilege and why it’s not okay to co-opt the voices of marginalized people.

Sara Amis will be moderating a Feminist SF Twitter chat on Sunday at 2pm EST. The theme of this discussion is worldbuilding. If you want to participate, just follow the FeministSF hashtag.

And while we’re talking about #FeministSF, NPR is asking people to share their favorite SF/F books with the goal of ultimately making a top 100 books list. Nicola Griffith reminds everyone to consider including books by women on the list. I’ll add a bid for considering including books by queer people and people of color.

Finally, Ladies of Trade Town is available now at HarpHaven Publishing. I talked to Lee Martindale about this in the big Gaylaxicon podcast episode–it’s an anthology of stories about the oldest profession, with stories by Catherine Lundoff and Cecilia Tan.

Cheryl Morgan asks what feminism is, and explores some of the various answers in a thoughtful post on her blog. The comments there are also full of interesting points (like that the wave model is not really ideal, for instance). One of the things that Cheryl brings up is the idea of intersectionality–that feminism shouldn’t be in opposition with anti-racist movements or LGBTQI rights movements. That’s definitely something that most of the OA membership seems to agree with, based on the way people interact on the mailing list. It’s one of the reasons why we try to point out works by and about people of all sorts of genders and racial identities, and not just works by and about gay white men. Not that there’s anything wrong with gay white men, mind you. As a group, we love work by and about them (have I mentioned lately that Hal Duncan writes awesome stories, one of which just won the Spectrum Award for short fiction? I have? Oh, right then). Just, personally, I want to see everyone represented, and I think other OA members do, too.

There’s a long road ahead of us, I’m afraid. Even though there are awesome things like the Tiptree Award (and The Carl Brandon Awards, and the Lammies, and the Spectrum, and…), there are still a lot of people who don’t recognize works that don’t fit into their idea of normality. Which sucks. A lot.

Nicola Griffith points this out over on her blog with a post about The Guardian’s Favourite SF Books list (of which, out of over 500 listed books, 18 are by women–slightly imbalanced?). On the heels of that post, Nicola calls for us to take the Joanna Russ Pledge.

“The single most important thing we (readers, writers, journalists, critics, publishers, editors, etc.) can do is talk about women writers whenever we talk about men. And if we honestly can’t think of women ‘good enough’ to match those men, then we should wonder aloud (or in print) why that is so.”

I’m going to go a step beyond, and say that we should be doing this for people of color and LGBTQI people as well. The way to become visible is to refuse invisibility.

Finally, talking of Joanna Russ, the awesome women of Galactic Suburbia (an Australian feminist SF podcast) are planning to have a big discussion of The Female Man and “When it Changed” in an upcoming episode. I mention this because it’s a great chance to read and listen and contribute to the conversation about feminism and queerness in SF. I’d like to see more open conversation about this spread all over the internet.

That’s it for this week. Next week will bring the June episode of the OA Podcast. In the meantime, please feel free to share your thoughts on feminism, SF, Joanna Russ, intersectionality, and other related topics in the comments here, on the google group, or by e-mailing me at julia@juliarios.com.

OA Members Talk About Coming Out:

Nicola Griffith shared an excerpt from her memoir, And Now We Are Going to Have a Party: Liner Notes to a Writer’s Early Life. This is a sad, alarming, amusing, and sweet glimpse of Nicola’s teen years before she became a well-adjusted and happily out adult.

Cheryl Morgan reminded us that being out is not always simple, easy, or safe with a post examining some of the challenges trans people face.

Catherine Lundoff agrees that being out is a privilege, and asks that we consider supporting organizations which help queer youth like District 202.

New Releases:

Rigor Amortis, the anthology of zombie erotica edited by Jaym Gates and Erika Holt is available at amazon, and contains stories by OA members Kay Holt and Kaolin Fire.

The Little Death of Crossed Genres, edited by Chris Fletcher and Jaym Gates is available in both electronic and print formats through the Crossed Genres website.

The latest issue of Weird Tales contains Natania Barron’s three part poem about “made” women in mythology. “The Wakened Image” appears alongside pictures by Brigid Ashwood.

Calls for Submissions by Queer-friendly Publishers:

Rose Lemberg would love to see poems with LGBTQI voices for Stone Telling. The current submission window is open until the 21st of November, and at present, Rose says there hasn’t been nearly enough queer content in the submissions pile.

Port Iris Zine is accepting submissions for issue #4 until the 5th of November. See their guidelines for more details.

Karen Romanko is looking for Halloween themed stories for her next anthology, Jack-o’-Spec.

That’s all for this time. Join us again next week, and please share any news you might have here in the comments, on the Outer Alliance google group, or via Twitter (mention either @omgjulia, or @outeralliance)

We Got your Back:

Another excellent project to give hope and support to LGBTQI teens popped up this week. The We Got Your Back Project wants your written or video stories, whether you are part of the LGBTQI spectrum, or a supportive ally. Their site is full of great resources for people who are considering suicide, or people who know others in that position. If you submit something to this project, please let us know and we’ll link to your story.

New Releases:

Sandra McDonald’s story, “Seven Sexy Robot Cowboys” is up at Strange Horizons. It’s got queer content and there’s a link to a video of sexy ice-skating cowboys at the bottom in case sexy ice-skating cowboys are your thing.

Salon Futura’s latest issue features a podcast discussion in which Nicola Griffith, Hal Duncan, Cheryl Morgan, and Catherynne M. Valente talk about writing LGBTQ characters.

Lee Benoit’s novel, Moonspun is out as part of Loose Id’s special Coming Out Day 2010 collection.

Angelia Sparrow’s erotic steampunk romance novella, Sky Rat is available from Pink Petal Books.

JoSelle Vanderhooft announced the table of contents for an anthology she’s editing, Steam Powered: Lesbian Steampunk Stories. The book should arrive in January of 2011, but you can pre-order or request review copies now by contacting JoSelle.

Calls for Submissions:

Circlet Press has four anthologies open right now. Like an Iron Fist: Dystopian Erotica and Like a Moonrise (erotic coming of age stories about animal shapeshifters) both close on the 15th of October. Sense and Sensuality (paranormal Jane Austen inspired stories) is open until the 1st of November, and Like a Cunning Plan: Erotic Trickster Tales is open until the 15th of December.

The Saints and Sinners Literary Festival Short Fiction Contest is open until the 1st of November. They’re looking for 5,000-7,000 word LGBT stories in all genres. There’s a $15 entry fee, and the top winners will receive $250 for first place and $50 for second and third place as well as publication in n anthology, which will be launched at the literary festival in May of 2011.

That’s all for this time. Join us again next week, and please share any news you might have (or links to your We Got Your Back Project contributions!) here in the comments, on the Outer Alliance google group, or via Twitter (mention either @omgjulia, or @outeralliance).

“Here’s how it works: Authors write a science fiction or fantasy short story which is inspired by a scientific discovery or innovation made or announced within the past year. It can’t be peripherally added: the science must be integral to the story. Writers must include a link to a relevant article or study of the applied science when they submit their stories.”

A panel of 6 amazing judges will vote on the finalists. Two of the six judges (Nicola Griffith and Cat Rambo) are members of Outer Alliance.

There’s $400 of cash prizes to be won, plus subscriptions, books, etc.

Please visit the contest page, read the entry guidelines, see who the judges are, and read about our Kickstarter drive to put the winning stories in print!

Then, enter your story! The contest will be open for entries from April 1 through June 30. Winners will be announced on July 21.

Show us there’s still room for real Science in fiction! Huge thanks to everyone who helped us make the contest happen!

Nicola’s first novel, Ammonite, won the Premio Italia, Lambda, and Tiptree awards. She went on to win the Nebula, Spectrum, World Fantasy Award and  5 more Lambdas before joining the Lambda Literary Foundation Board of Trustees in June of 2009. In addition to writing 5 novels, a memoir, and several shorter works, she also co-edited (with Stephen Pagel) the Bending the Landscape series of LGBTQ science fiction, fantasy, and horror anthologies. She keeps a blog at http://asknicola.blogspot.com/.

Originally from the UK, Nicola now lives in Seattle with her partner, Kelley Eskridge, with whom she recently started Sterling Editing (an editing, mentoring, and coaching service for writers). Both Nicola and Kelley will be appearing alongside futuristic heavy metal band, BloodHag, on October 24th at Olympia Washington’s first SciFiFest.

You’ve won six Lambda Literary Awards, and now you’re on the Lambda Literary Foundation board. Can you weigh in on the controversy surrounding the new nomination guidelines? How did the board come to the decision to only accept nominations for books by people who identify as LGBT, and why is that a good choice for the Lammies?

I’m a brand new member of the board; I joined in June.  Not long before that, the board adopted a new mission statement.  “The Lambda Literary Foundation seeks to elevate the status of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people throughout society by rewarding and promoting excellence among openly LGBT writers who use their work to explore LGBT lives.”  This influenced the award guidelines.  Our explicit mission is to honour and reward openly LGBT writers.  It’s that simple.

Publishing, though, is changing.  The position of LGBT people in society at large is changing.  I have no doubt that LLF’s mission will also change.

The Nomination window for the Lammies is open right now. Who can nominate, and where should nominators go to submit their favorite LGBT books?

A book may be nominated only by its publisher or author.  The full guidelines are here.

If you have a favourite novel, nag the author and/or publisher to submit.  If they can’t afford the postage and fees (it costs $30 and five copies per title), pass the hat.  That’s what community is for: to support each other.  Sometimes that takes cold, hard cash.

I wish LLF could make the submission process free, but we have to cover our administrative costs.  This year, Richard Labonte is coordinating the awards process. I think he’ll do a knockout job.  We’ll have finalists in all 22 categories early next year.  (The f/sf shortlist is a great way to select titles for your TBR pile–and to persuade your library to order.)  The big gala ceremony will be in New York in May, during BEA.

You met your partner at the Clarion workshop, and have since won the Nebula, World Fantasy, and James Tiptree Jr. awards, so clearly you know your way around speculative fiction. Have you ever found interactions within the genre difficult because of your orientation? Have you got any suggestions about how fandom might become more welcoming to a diverse spectrum of fans?

I haven’t written an sf novel since Slow River (though of course I co-edited the Bending the Landscape series and have written short fiction–the most recent, “It Takes Two,” is due out any day in Eclipse 3, ed. Jonathan Strahan, which has an absolutely knockout lineup).  I have a big old sword-swangin’ fantasy/alternate history all planned out but simply haven’t found the time to work on it.  My focus now is on my novel about Hild of Whitby (set in seventh century England).  I keep a blog about the process here: http://gemaecca.blogspot.com/.

I’ve never had a minute’s problem being a dyke in f/sf world.  I enter a room expecting to be treated at least as well as anyone else, and so I am.  Some people occasionally say clumsy things but generally they mean well.  Conversation over a beer usually clears things up.  I’ve never had a problem, either, in editorial terms–never had a problem selling novels or stories stuffed with dykes to the trade press.  In my experience publishers just don’t care who your characters have sex with, as long as they’re really well written characters.

However I have had problems with an agent (I fired her) and the critical reception of my work.

My first agent was Fran Collin.  After I’d already got an offer for my first novel, Ammonite, from Malcolm Edwards at HarperCollins UK, Fran took me on and got an offer from St. Martin’s and Avon for a US hard/soft deal.  Two slight snags.

One, they wanted me to change the title:

“No one knows what it means!” the editor said.

“Then they should fucking look it up,” I said.

Two, they wanted me to lose 20 percent of the text:

“Which 20 percent?” I said.

“We don’t care,” the editor said.  “But it exceeds the optimum product size for a first novel.”

“You show me where the book sags and I’ll think about it.”

They couldn’t.  I turned down the offer.

Then Fran got an offer from Del Rey.  (For nearly twice the money St. Martin’s/Avon had offered, woo-hoo!)  The book won the Lambda Literary Award and the Tiptree (and got short-listed for a bunch of other things, like the Arthur C. Clarke Award: I smiled a lot).  So when it was time to outline my second novel, my hopes were high.  I wrote an ambitious (my friends called it career-suicidal) proposal (sex! sewage! tense & POV games!) and sent it to Fran.  She phoned me:

“This isn’t a selling outline,” she said.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, okay, look.  I understood why Marghe in Ammonite had sex with a girl–it was a women-only planet, she didn’t have a choice, poor thing–but why does Lore have to have a girlfriend?”

“Because she’s a dyke, Fran.”  And I fired her.  My new agent, Shawna McCarthy, had no trouble selling Slow River, again to Del Rey.  The reviews were stellar.

The reviews for Ammonite had been mixed.  The mainstream press loved it.  But the genre press was a bit puzzled.  Take, for example, the Locus review, which opined that it was all very nice, but, oh, how much powerful it might have been if only Marghe had had a brother we could have identified with…  Also, several of the Grand Old Men of the genre were rather dismissive: Ah, they’d say, yes, not bad–for a minor work from a sad little sub-genre.  To which I replied: Eat my fucking shorts.

Ah, but I’ve written about all this a lot, most recently in “War Machine, Time Machine” and “As We Mean to Go On,” both written with Kelley, both available for free.

If I had to sum up my dyke-in-publishing trajectory I’d say that the farther up the hierarchy I climb–from Del Rey mass market paperback to Nan A. Talese hardcover–the less reviewers mention the fact that my protagonists are always lesbians.

The f/sf community, while good at learning inclusiveness, when pushed, needs to work just a little harder.  The default is still straight and white (and male and able-bodied, etc.).  The genre still has a tendency to Other us queers.  But the Othering game does, to some degree, take two to play.  I refuse the game.  Mostly, it works.  For the other times, we have each other: we can educate and befriend and, when all else fails, name and shame.  Meanwhile, we need to be visible–which The Outer Alliance is doing brilliantly.  We need to ordinary people and extraordinary writers.

Your latest big project is Sterling Editing, which you just started with your partner, Kelley Eskridge. Judging by the sheer number of awards you’ve accumulated, you have serious writing chops. How does that translate into editing, and why did you choose to pursue this route?

Why do I do this? Because I can. Because it gives me joy.

I’ve been teaching since I was four, when I taught my little sister to tie her shoes (and then to make a bow and arrow–but that’s another story).  All through my 20s I was a women’s self-defense teacher.  I gave my first talk about story–what it is, how it works–to a class of nine-year-olds the month my first short story hit the shelves. (I still have some of their thank-you letters.)  I taught my first writing class three months later at the local women’s center, to eight women: one very young, one white-haired, the rest in their 30s and 40s. Three months after that, I was teaching a weekend course for SF writers.  I’ll teach anything to anybody.  I can’t help it.

When I came to Atlanta from the UK (I was 29), I reverted to teaching self-defense for a while.  (An all day date-rape class delivered to 70 Girl Scouts and their mothers was particularly memorable.)  Then, in 1993, just as my first novel was published, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.  Teaching self-defense became impossible.  Instead, I fell back on giving guest lectures and creative writing workshops (for local arts centers, for local colleges–anyone who asked).

My second novel came out in 1995 and Kelley and I moved to Seattle.   About this time, I began to edit the Bending the Landscape series of original anthologies.

It was a revelation.  I edited first-time authors, giants in the literary field who were trying their hand at writing speculative fiction, and some stalwarts of the f/sf field who were being brave and stepping outside their comfort zone.  I was astounded at how satisfying it was to help a writer lift a sleek 8,000 word story from a 14,000 word swamp.  I swelled with pride when I explained why something should be in first person and the writer said “Oh!” and then rewrote her submission piece into the best story of her life.

Teaching, coaching, and editing, then, are part of who I am.  The beauty of Sterling Editing is that I don’t have to travel.  Writers come to me (by email and phone and occasionally in person): writers who are a joy to work with, whose craft I can improve, whose careers I can nurture.  I’m also discovering the pleasure of working with those who don’t consider themselves writers, people who nonetheless have a story–their own, or another’s–to tell.

Yes, Sterling Editing work does use time and energy which could be spent on my novels–but it helps my writing in the long run. I learn from teaching.  It thrills me to the core of my being.  I like to connect with other artists and pass on my skills.  I need it.

Of course some of us can’t afford to pay for editing services, no matter how much we might want to. Are there any free or cheap writing resources you’d recommend for people who are serious about improving their craft, but sadly short on cash?

The single best way for a writer to learn is to read.  I don’t mean s/he should read books on how to write, but s/he should read novels.  Read everything.  Read poetry and short stories and nineteenth century epics.  Read every twentieth century sf novel you can get your hands on.  Read historical fiction.  Read Booker Prize winners.  (Oh, oops, the gatekeepers are finally admitting they’re the same thing…)  Read ravenously and with joy.

As writers, we are what we read.  It’s the font from which all springs.

Think about your favourite novel, the one you return to time and again, the one you read when you’re ill or tired or stressed out of your mind.  That’s the book that helped form the writer you are today.  So when you get stuck, when you don’t know how to achieve something–write an action scene, switch point of view, convey information without boring your reader rigid–go to your comfort read and find out how your favourite author did it.  It’s free if you use the library–and think of the joy you’ll take in the process.

***

Thanks, Nicola! Join us again next Friday for another Spotlight. In the meantime, why not take a look the editcast videos on the Sterling Editing website, or make sure you favorite LGBT author has been nominated for a Lammie? And if you’re in the Olympia, Washington area, don’t forget to check out SciFiFest!

OA members Nicola Griffith and Kelley Eskridge have just announced the formation of Sterling Editing, an editing, coaching and mentoring service for writers. As Nicola says:

If you want to make your writing better, we can help you.

We’ve both done a lot of teaching (Clarion West, Arts Council of Great Britain, Emory) and have been mentoring and coaching informally with those students and friends, but now it’s time to codify and formalise what we do.

We love to teach.  We love to share.

From the site:

Many people who offer editing services have never had a story, essay or book professionally published. They’ve never worked with an agent or publisher. They may have excellent theoretical knowledge — but we believe there’s no substitute for experience.

We are expert writers with excellent editing, teaching and coaching skills. We can help you both improve your writing and meet the challenges of a writer’s life, whether you’re trying to build a career, make a mid-career transition, carve out time from your busy life to work, or understand how the money works.

Serious congratulations are in order! Best of luck to you both. A truly wonderful resource for writers.