Monday, December 11, 2017

On Relatable Villains

[CW: This post discusses the way villains are often coded as marginalized identities. There are mentions specifically of queermisia/queerphobia, ableism, antisemitism, and racism.]

Like many people, I adore fictional villains. Most of my favorite characters of all time are villains, and I in fact have three tattoos inspired by fictional villains. Villains and antagonists are often some of the strongest parts of a story.

Name a fandom I'm part of, and there's a very strong chance the character I find most meaningful and relatable is a villain.

But to be honest? I kind of hate that.

Many, many people have written at length about coding: the way in which characters are implied to be of a specific background or marginalization without anyone ever coming out and saying it. This happens very often with villains, especially in fantasy. For example, the trope of villains with big hook noses is part of an extremely antisemitic stereotype that Jewish people = evil. My personal experience with coding, and the reason I relate to so many villains, is that many are coded as, one, queer in some fashion and, two, as neurodivergent/mentally ill.

These coded villains are not typically written by people who share their coded marginalizations, which adds a definite layer of sometimes subtle bigotry. This gets internalized by people who consume the media, and then applied, often subconsciously, to real people.

Here are a few examples that have personally affected me:

Untrustworthy characters being indicated by fidgeting and a lack of eye contact. As an autistic person, I am uncomfortable with eye contact and find it quite difficult if not impossible to maintain. Because eye contact is held up as such an important part of being trustworthy and honest, autistic people, especially children, are often abused by caregivers until they learn to make that eye contact. Fidgeting and stimming are also "trained" out of autistic people in abusive therapies like ABA.

Evil characters do not experience love, are repulsed by it, and never seek romantic partners. As an aromantic person, I frequently deal with dehumanization and vilification because I do not experience romantic attraction. Aromantic people are frequently seen as frigid, cruel, and even abusive, just because we do not experience that attraction the way alloromantic (non-aromantic) people do.

Characters who have low or no empathy are held up as the epitome of cruel and dangerous. A lack of empathy is heralded as a sure sign of abusive, controlling, and malicious tyrants. But there are multiple disorders, two of which I personally have, that often come with low or otherwise "abnormal" empathy. This does not make us bad people, and seeing villains (both real and fictional) who are portrayed as evil because they're not empathetic is extremely demoralizing and harmful.

What's the point of me saying this? The point is that if you want to write a good antagonist, you should be careful that you're not just using harmful coding as a shorthand that will hurt real people. Take great care (and hire sensitivity readers) so that you don't make bigoted assertions that a trait of a marginalized group is a sign of evil.

I'm tired of relating to villains. I'm tired of seeing my autism, my personality disorder, my queerness, my real-world experience reflected in the people I'm told I should hate and root against. If you are a content creator, please do your part to be mindful of the way coding and tropes can be used to harm.

Representation matters, but the thing is that it has to be positive representation. Give me a glimpse at myself in villain after villain after villain, and you have not told me that I matter. You have told me that I am repulsive and wrong.

Be mindful, be aware, and be better than creators of the past. Don't tell marginalized people that we're evil, because gods all know we get enough of that already.

Until next time,
Jenn.

Monday, October 30, 2017

It's That Time Again

It's the 30th of October. Tomorrow is Halloween, AKA the best day in the entire year. I'll be carving pumpkins and spending time with my family, and the day after that I'll be attending my local kickoff party for that beast that looms every November:

NaNoWriMo.

I write a variation of this post every year. It's relevant year-round, but doubly so in November, when many people are striving to write as much as they can in 30 days.

I've been participating in NaNoWriMo every year since 2008. In 2010, I was a senior in high school, with all the pressure that comes with that. In addition to worrying about homework and grades and my senior project, I decided I wanted to write my NaNo novel as quickly as possible, and write, not just 50,000 words, but as much as I possibly could. It was a personal challenge, and I got a wee bit too ambitious.

2010 was a rough year for me for a number of reasons, and I had a lot on my plate. I threw myself wholeheartedly into NaNo that year. I finished my project in four days, through a combination of not getting enough sleep, not taking nearly enough breaks, and pushing myself to the utter limit.

I was also sick at the time. That should have been my clue to take it easy, but I was sixteen and overconfident. So what could have been a quick, easy bout with the crud became a trip to the emergency room with a temperature of 106.3 degrees. When your temperature gets that high, you're in serious danger of permanent damage, and I remember sobbing that the water was too cold when my mom tossed me in a lukewarm shower in an attempt to bring my temperature down.

Not fun.

After a visit to the ER, during which I got a shot right in the ass cheek, I had to take a week off school. I spent the entire time either asleep or whining to my mom that I felt like crap. Not something I'm eager to repeat.

The moral of the story is this:

Take breaks. No matter how intently you're working on a story, for NaNoWriMo or otherwise, take breaks. Get up, drink some water, eat, stretch. Take a break from staring at a computer screen. Spend time with friends. Give yourself a rest. It's not worth hurting yourself just for the sake of word count. Believe me, putting yourself in the ER for the sake of a book is not only supremely unpleasant, it's pretty damn embarrassing.

Your story is important, but your health is important, too. Don't neglect the latter for the sake of the former.

Take care of yourself this NaNoWriMo, okay?

Until next time,
Jenn.

Monday, October 9, 2017

Polishing Turds

This afternoon at my usual coffee shop hangout, I finally finished the first draft of my WiP!

It sucks!

But that's not a bad thing!

Every writer has a different style. A lot of people edit their work as they go, so that by the time they finish a story it doesn't need much work at all. I'm not usually like that. I'm the kind of writer who's much more inclined to crap out a first draft in a short amount of time, and then spend ages and ages and ages refining it into something I really like.

Neither method is inherently superior to the other. It's all about what works for you. I always feel this huge sense of relief when I finish banging out a mess of a project, because playing in the sandbox that is revisions is something I immensely enjoy. It feels less like polishing a turd and much more like I've just bought a bunch of craft supplies that I get to puzzle together into a masterpiece.

I don't really have any point to prove or idea to raise with this post; I just thought I'd post something celebrating the fact that, hey, I finished laying the groundwork to edit together something I'm really excited about. I'll be posting snippets of the first draft and before/after comparisons over on my Patreon for all patrons, and maybe some cool graphics and screenshots over on Instagram for anyone who wants to follow along.

I've had a great day of writing, and I really look forward to diving into revisions. Wherever you are, I hope you've had a great day, too, and that whatever project you're working on treats you well.

Until next time,
Jenn.

Monday, October 2, 2017

On Labor

I've been thinking about labor a lot lately. Specifically, the way it is, and isn't, valued in our society.

I live in the United States. Here, unless you provide a very specific type of labor, it is consistently devalued and even belittled. You see it often when people talk about how "burger flippers" don't deserve a living wage (spoiler: they do). You also see it when white collar office jobs are more highly praised than vital labor provided by people like sanitation workers or the folks working road construction. And those are just a tiny thimbleful of examples in a sea of gross rhetoric.

Labor is devalued in our society. Especially when that labor comes from people marginalized along other axes--women, people of color, disabled people, the list goes on. It worsens the more axes you exist along.

Lately I've been particularly thoughtful on the ways society devalues the labor of artists and creatives. A while back, someone on Twitter felt the need to quote tweet the link to my Ko-Fi profile, for the sole purpose of telling me they would never, ever donate to it. Upon browsing this person's profile, I saw that I was not even close to the only person they'd done this to. In particular they seemed to be targeting indie writers and freelance artists.

People consistently demand art, but never want to pay the artists. People ask artists to draw their OCs for free, people get angry if an ebook costs more than .99, people expect musicians to put their music for free on YouTube. Content creators are thus forced to undervalue our own work if we want people to compensate us at all. I myself have put stories up for free when I really wanted to charge, because it's so damn hard to convince people to do things like pledge to your Patreon if they don't get some "proof" that it's worth it. I charge under the average for sensitivity reading services, because I've had people ask my prices and then completely vanish, without so much as a "thank you for your time," when hearing my original quote.

It is expected that artists will always produce art, to the point where I wonder if people put any thought into where it comes from. It seems people truly believe art comes from thin air.

The idea that everyone hates their job contributes to this idea that those who do something they love--like artists--don't "really" work. And if it's not "really" work, then the labor doesn't deserve compensation. It's a common thought that if you enjoy producing art, than you would be doing it anyway, so you don't need to be paid for your time.

It's such a pervasive thought that trying to fight against it is an endurance trial. It feels like beating your head against a brick wall, honestly.

Dancing that line between valuing your own labor, and keeping your prices in the range people are actually willing to pay, is difficult, exhausting, and an endless reshuffling.

I don't know how to force it to change. All I know is that I'll be here in my corner, adding 20%+ tips to everything I commission, doing my best to value my own work, and boosting all of the hardworking content creators I know. I urge the rest of you to do the same. Value your own labor. Value the labor of your friends, and your community, and artists everywhere.

Don't let the world convince you that your labor doesn't deserve compensation. Because even if you aren't a master, even if you are just one in a sea of creators, you matter. Your work is important, and your labor has value.

And if you aren't a content creator, remember--our work is work, the same as yours. Without labor, you would have nothing. Art does not magically just appear, just as other goods to not magically just appear. If you want to continue living in a world full of creativity, you will compensate your artists, and boost their links, and do your part to help them stay fed.

Until next time,
Jenn.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Book Review: Ripped Pages, by M. Hollis

[Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book for review.]

Today, September 22, is release day for M. Hollis' novella Ripped Pages!

[Image description: the cover of M. Hollis' novella Ripped Pages: A Rapunzel Retelling. It features black and white cursive text over a background of blonde hair.]

Ripped Pages is an F/F retelling of Rapunzel. After her mother's death, Princess Valentina's father locks her away in a tower, where she spends several years alone save the servants who bring her food. Scared of the wilderness surrounding her tower, Princess Valentina never quite musters the courage to try and escape, until another girl happens to pass by on a horse.

From there, it's adventure, sweet romance, and, all-in-all, an extremely satisfying retelling of one of my favorite faerie tales.

I devoured Ripped Pages in one sitting, because it was just so refreshing to see a story about sapphic teenagers that wasn't tragic, or fetishized, or infantilizing. These characters got to be cute and sweet and get to know themselves in a faerie tale setting, which is representation that so many people get denied.

The main character is a lesbian, and her love interest is multispec (I'm not sure if she's bi, pan, or ply--explicit labels aren't used). There is a gay couple as well, and casual mention of aspec people and nonbinary people. From a representation standpoint, it was lovely.

Something I also greatly appreciated was that the author included a page listing trigger warnings. That's a practice I've been advocating for for a while now, and it was great to see.

But besides the representation and trigger consideration, what I really loved about Ripped Pages was that it felt so genuine. I remember being a teenager wondering if my experiences were normal, and wanting to go out into the world and experience life in the wider world. I remember being scared to enter that wider world. Heck, I relate to that even as an adult. I remember how validating and empowering it was to finally meet other people like me, who really cared about who I was and what I wanted. This story really captured those feelings, and it is something I sincerely wish I had when I was younger.

Perhaps the highest praise I can offer is that I finished reading Ripped Pages and wanted to hug my e-reader. It made me feel warm fuzzies, and reminded me of just how good it is to see characters you identify with succeeding and coming into their own.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys faerie tales, and especially to anyone who needs to see a young lesbian come into her own, take control of her life, and find the love and support she deserves. Many thanks to the author for allowing me to read and review this book!

Until next time,
Jenn.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Announcing Sensitivity Reading Services

I am pleased to announce that I am now offering sensitivity reading services! The job of a sensitivity reader is to read over a work-in-progress and offer their opinions as a member of the marginalized group being portrayed.

I am available as a sensitivity reader for the following categories:

Gender, Sexuality, and Relationships:

AFAB nonbinary/agender
Bisexuality
Asexuality
Aromanticism
Polyamory

Disability & Neurodivergence:

Autism
Sensory processing disorder
Anxiety
Synesthesia
Dermatillomania
Hard of Hearing / hearing loss

Religion and Culture:

Germanic neopaganism/heathenry (practicing)
Catholic, raised in the Church (formerly)
Secular witchcraft
Neopagan witchcraft

For information on my prices and how to hire me, please visit this link!

Best,
Jenn.

Monday, June 26, 2017

Book Review: Knit One, Girl Two, by Shira Glassman

Knit One, Girl Two was a quick, utterly delightful read. It stars Clara Ziegler, a yarn dyer who finds herself facing a creative block. She finds inspiration in the paintings of Danielle Solomon. The two meet up, and come to inspire each other in their respective art forms. As they begin to spend more time together, they get closer. And then they go on possibly the most adorable date ever.

You’ve got geeky artists, queer solidarity, an adorable cat, and women bonding over fanfiction. Despite being a quick read, there was a lot of great stuff packed in. My favorite scene was probably the one with the knitting group meetup, because we got introduced to a lot of great characters. Several of them reminded me of people in my own community. It’s always wonderful to see queer people supporting each other, having fun, and just...existing. They don’t have to be a plot point to be there.

I read Knit One, Girl Two over the course of a hot, lazy afternoon, and it was a perfect way to pass the time. It was fluffy, and sweet, and geeky, and tons of fun. I can’t recommend it highly enough to anyone who wants a cozy read.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Book Review: Masquerade, by Bran Lindy Ayres

Masquerade follows a genderfluid spy, variably known as Genevieve Merlot or Lafayette Goddard depending on their gender, as they uncover a plot to harm their friend and sovereign, the Queen of Orandon. It is a quick, fast-paced prequel to Bran Lindy Ayres’ novel The Jeweled Dagger, telling the story of what got our protagonist into the mess that launches the plot of the novel. It’s a treat for those, like me, who loved The Jeweled Dagger, but it could easily be read as a standalone.

Masquerade has been on my to-be-read list for a while now. I loved The Jeweled Dagger, and I was excited to see more of Genevieve/Lafayette. They’re a fun character to follow, and it was nice to get a bit more context for what they go through at the beginning of the novel.

I’ve been a sucker for court intrigue and political fantasy for a long time, but the cruddy thing about that is that most political fantasy is straight, cis, allo, white, and, after a while, very same-y. Masquerade is exactly what I wanted--all of the intrigue, but with a realistically diverse cast. It’s not another story about rich privileged white men squabbling. And, gods, is that refreshing.

The story itself had just enough worldbuilding to satisfy, without being overwhelming. This world is well-rounded and rich, but the author doesn’t dump a million new concepts and ideas in your lap with no guidebook. As much as I love political fantasy, that’s generally my biggest complaint: too much all at once, with no time to process the world you’re in before throwing plot point after plot point at you. Despite the fast pace of the story, the worldbuilding was woven in naturally, which gave it a real, lived-in feel. I could picture everything pretty easily, and thus could sit back and enjoy the actual meat of the plot.

The plot was pretty straightforward: loyal spy uncovers an enemy plot, and gets stranded away from their home country and the queen they’re desperate to protect. But it was very well-done, and made for a great curl-up-on-the-couch read. I would recommend it highly to anyone who loves spies and intrigue, and badass genderfluid main characters.

Be advised that Masquerade carries trigger warnings for racism and transphobia perpetuated by antagonists, as well as violence.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Book Review: Every Heart a Doorway, by Seanan McGuire

I read this book at four in the morning while suffering a bout of insomnia. And, honestly, that felt like an appropriate time to read it, because this book is...weird. Not bad-weird. Just...weird. It had an almost dreamlike, surreal quality to it.

I liked it, though.

Be advised that this book does carry trigger warnings for violence, gore, mentions of sexual activity, and transphobia. The transphobia is called out and shown as a bad thing, but it is present.

The story follows the residents of Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children, which is partially a boarding school but mostly a sanctuary for teenagers who have traveled to other worlds and long to go back. The principal character is Nancy, who visited a land of the dead.

It’s not long after Nancy arrives at the Home that things start going wrong. Along with her fellow students, Nancy tries to unravel what’s going on, before more people are hurt or the school is forced to close.

It was an entertaining take on what happens to characters after they come back from their fantasy adventures. A lot of portal fantasy that I've read has an air of “happily ever after” once the protagonist comes home, and it’s always hard not to wonder how they cope with our world after that. In Every Heart a Doorway, the answer is...well, not that great. They struggle. They long to return to their individual fantasy worlds, and have to learn how to deal with the knowledge that it might never happen.

That was definitely compelling. I liked that a lot.

Every Heart a Doorway came highly recommended to me as an aspec trans person. The main character is asexual, and one of the major supporting characters is a trans man. That was great to see and I very much liked it. I thought it was done pretty well. The only real quibbles I had were that immediately after coming out to her roommate, the asexual main character is asked about masturbation, and the trans man character is referred to by another character as being “born a girl.” That said, both of the characters saying these things are portrayed as rude and their responses as inappropriate, so wasn’t too huge of an issue for me personally. Your mileage may vary.

Now for what I didn’t like.

[Note: the rest of this review contains spoilers.]

This story hinges on violence against young girls, including a young girl of color. Multiple characters die in graphic ways, and though the deaths are not shown on-page, the fatal wounds are described in relative detail. We don’t get to spend a lot of time with the characters before they’re killed, and we don’t get a great grasp on their stories until after the fact. I’m not inherently opposed to character death, but I have developed great distaste for violence against women and girls, especially women and girls of color, being used for entertainment. There’s a lot of it, and it gets hard to stomach. Especially in a work that doesn’t have a lot of time to add deep characterization, it’s jarring and upsetting to see girls get offed so violently and suddenly.

Overall, I really adored the premise and the worldbuilding, but I feel like there are other, much more engrossing stories that could have been set in this world than “violent murder spree targeting young girls.” That said, I’m definitely interested in reading the next installments in the series, because the premise and worldbuilding were enthralling.

In short, this is one I would recommend to my fellow portal fantasy fans, but it is one I would recommend with caution.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Book Review: Chameleon Moon, by RoAnna Sylver

I bought Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver within five minutes of it being recommended to me, because the premise was something I knew I needed in my life: queer superheroes. We all need queer superheroes in our lives, really, even if they only exist in the 
pages of books. We deserve to know that there’s hope, and that we’re not alone.

And that’s exactly what Chameleon Moon told me: there’s hope, and I’m not alone. From the first pages, I got to see people like myself: nonbinary people, asexual people, transgender people, polyamorous people, neurodivergent people, disabled people. People like me, who the mainstream too often pretends don’t even exist, got to be the stars of an action-packed, high-intensity narrative. And, gods, was that good. That was so good.

Chameleon Moon is set in Parole: a gutted, run-down city that sits above a fire that’s been burning for years. It’s perpetually on the verge of crumbling into the flames, and water is so precious it’s used as currency. Those left in Parole have strange abilities, given by a drug that didn’t work as planned when introduced to the populace. They’re under forced quarantine by a military police force, and everyone is in a perpetual state of waiting for the city to completely collapse.

The narrative follows Regan, the asexual lizard king of my heart, as he tries to recover his memory. He falls in with Evelyn Calliope, a trans woman whose voice dominates the stage at the Emerald Bar, and whose grace under pressure is, honestly, utter goals. Because she’s one of the Helpers that Mr. Rogers told us to look for in times of trouble, Evelyn takes Regan under her wing. She takes him home, where the rest of her family is introduced: her wives Rose and Danae, their son Jack, and the family robot-dog, Toto-Dandy.

From there, the story is a rollercoaster, but in the absolute best way.

Chameleon Moon was fast-paced and brutal. People get hurt, and struggle, and suffer. They get put through the wringer, and they earn every last second of downtime they get. There is no “dead queer” trope to be found, blessedly, but be advised that there is violence and serious injury. The ending is what I’d call a bittersweet victory--mysteries get solved, goals get met, and conflicts get resolved, but there are definitely still plotlines to be resolved. My copy came with a bonus short story set not too long after the book, which was a wonderful treat, but I’ll still be buying book two as soon as I can.

Overall, I adored Chameleon Moon. The story was a thrilling ride, but what really sold it for me was the characters. They were so real, and refreshingly relatable. They have panic attacks, they deal with PTSD, they dissociate, they validate each other's’ struggles and needs. As a neurodivergent person living in a world where triggers are all-too-often mocked, I needed Chameleon Moon. I needed queer, neurodivergent, disabled characters whose struggles aren’t just relatable, but validated and worked through and shown as normal.

The story was good, yes, but the characters made me feel good about myself. They made me feel loved. They made me feel like I, too, can get through the day even when I want to shut down and give up.

Read this book. If you ever need a reminder that you matter, please, read this book.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Representation is Not a Zero-Sum Game

Last week, I participated in the very first #QueerSpec Twitter chat, hosted by @AlexHarrowSFF. I had a great time chatting with some great people, and I'm looking forward to the next one (which, for those interested, will be June 15th at 6 PM EST).

One of the discussion questions centered around what kind of stories, topics, and themes the participants would like to see become more common in queer SFF. I posted multiple things, but, in particular, it was this one that came back to bite me:

"I would LOVE to see more queerplatonic relationships in fiction. People crap all over them, but they're important. #queerspec" [permalink]

I woke up this morning (er, afternoon) and checked Twitter to discover someone, who I have since blocked and whose tweets I can no longer access, was taking my tweet to mean that I believe gay romance doesn't matter and I think queerplatonic relationships are more highly stigmatized than sexual queer relationships. I was then accused of internalized homophobia and told that I am not allowed to use the word "queer."

A tip: that is not what I meant, and I can damn well use the word queer if I please.

I was accused of saying that gay sex isn't stigmatized and therefore shouldn't be represented, when what I simply said was that I'd like to see more representation of queerplatonic relationships. Queerplatonic relationships, or QPRs, are often stigmatized both outside and inside the queer community. They are a relationship style common among asexuals and aromantics, who constantly face harassment and exclusionary gatekeeping. Aspec people deserve to see our relationships represented as much as anyone else.

This spiked a conversation with a few other, wholly delightful, folks on Twitter that boiled down to, "representation is not a zero-sum game." People writing about QPRs does not take away from people writing about sexual and romantic queer relationships in the slightest. 

Writing autistic characters doesn't mean that nobody can write characters with ADHD. Writing bisexual characters doesn't take away from stories about lesbians. Writing stories with Latinx characters doesn't take away the importance of writing stories with Black characters. Etc. All of these groups deserve positive representation. 

Positive representation of one group doesn't take away from positive representation of another (assuming, of course, that the positive representation of one does not come coupled with hurtful representation or erasure of another--but that's an issue that deserves its own post).

If I am not portraying romantic and sexual queer relationships in a negative light, or pretending that they don't exist, there is no harm, and in fact is a lot of good, in me positively portraying queerplatonic relationships. Aspec people seeing ourselves in fiction is not taking away from allosexual and alloromantic queer representation.

So please, write queer romantic and sexual relationships. We need them desperately. Write them, share them, tell me about them so that I can share them, too.

But don't tell me that I don't deserve to see myself represented.

Don't tell me that seeing myself somehow means I'm keeping you from seeing yourself.

There is room for us all to be represented, and I will gladly stand beside you and help you boost your representation right alongside mine.

Because it's not a zero-sum game.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(Reminder: If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!)


Thursday, May 18, 2017

You Can't Quantify Hard Work

It's been a couple of weeks since I last posted. I've enjoyed having a blog again, and I've really been scratching my head for topics. The one I keep coming back to feels like a variation on my post "Don't Write Every Day," and I'm always wary of beating a dead horse.

Thing is, it seems like that message needs repeating. Often.

So many people fall into the trap of believing that people who don't write every day just aren't working hard enough. The thing is, you don't know how hard I work. You don't know just how hard it is to put my butt in the chair, as the common advice goes, and put words on the page.

"Hard work" is subjective, as well. There are days I can put down several thousand words without breaking a sweat. More commonly, I struggle to string together even a few paragraphs. Hitting 500 feels like a miracle. That doesn't somehow mean I worked "harder" or "better" on the day I wrote a few thousand.

I have to celebrate the baby steps. Every word is a victory. I've spent a long time feeling like I'm not successful because I don't have any published books to my name. I've spent a long time feeling miserable because it feels like I can never do enough, and my words will only mean anything once people can buy them in a bookstore.

I have never been a fan of the way the writing community puts published writers up on a pedestal, as if they are harder-working, better-writing, better-than-the-rest-of-us paragons of authordom. I have never liked the way that we as writers only seem to "count" once we sign that contract and have an official book deal--or, sometimes, when we only count once our book is on the shelf at Books a Million.

Writers are writers are writers, and we as a community have got to give more respect to those who struggle, who work for a week and produce only a handful of words, or who go weeks or months or years without being able to write much at all. We have got to have more respect for those who break themselves trying to meet far-off goals, only to realize that cramming themselves into the mold of what the community says success looks like is making them miserable.

There are countless paths to success as a writer. There are countless views on what "success" even means. There are countless ways to work hard, there are countless ways to produce content, and there are countless ways to be an author.

Your success is not the only way of being successful. Your accomplishments are not the only ones that took hard work. Your hard work is not the measuring stick by which others should be judged.
It's hard being too exhausted to write. It's hard being constantly told what my goals should be, what my workload should be, and what my daily output should be. It makes me hate writing, sometimes, to know that I'm "not working hard enough" by a lot of folks' standards.

Screw your standards, I work by my own. I am a writer regardless of what my output looks like, and I refuse to listen to those who put arbitrary quotas on people they don't even know.

It feels terrible to know that there are folks out there who think you're not doing enough. It feels terrible to find yourself buying into it, and to catch yourself beating yourself up for going a day without putting down words.

Don't let the gatekeepers and the naysayers get you down, because they're full of crap.

Every word is a victory. Celebrate it as such.

You are a real writer, and you belong in the writing community.

I promise.

Until next time,
Jenn.

If you enjoy my content, consider backing me on Patreon or buying me a coffee via Ko-Fi. Thanks!

Monday, April 24, 2017

Write What You Want

There's something that happens rather a lot in the publishing community, and it's this tendency toward telling writers to avoid things that have been done "too many times." Common plots and story seeds are labelled as inherently worthless to work with, and the oft-repeated refrain is, "everybody's tired of it."

I have multiple issues with this.

For one, some of my absolute favorite things get swept to the side and called "boring" because they've been "done too many times." I adore portal fantasy. I think plots where someone who seems like a boring nobody is actually secret royalty are still pretty fun. Faerie tale retellings? Love 'em. I could go on. And if I'm not tired of those plots, it's a safe bet that there are plenty of other people out there who aren't, either. So the argument that "nobody likes them anymore" just doesn't hold water.

For two, sure, there are a lot of plots out there that have been written already. But not by you. Not by me. We have not seen every conceivable take on every conceivable idea. Everybody tells a story differently. If I've read one book about vampires, I've read one book about vampires. The vampiric element is only a part of what makes the story, and I want to read all about the unique twists and turns and worldbuilding each new author brings forth. It's fun, it's entertaining, and I like it. No two authors tell the same tale.

For three, there are so many instances where "everybody's tired of it" comes off more as "it's popular, so I hate it." I don't have a lot of patience for that. Especially when these anti-bandwagons tend to heavily target things that are popular with girls and women. If it's not hurting anyone, let people enjoy things.

Trends ebb and flow, but to say that something is ever "dead" is just plain wrong, to me. Every book has a reader, and the only time I will ever look at a trend or a trope and say it's bad and should never be done is if that trend or that trope is rooted in bigotry. No more Nazi romances, for the love of all the gods. No more "noble savages." No more disabled people getting better through the power of love. Portal fantasy, though? Vampires? A portal fantasy with vampires? Hit me with it. I'll keep reading it for as long as people keep writing it.

(No, for real, if anyone has any portal fantasy with vampires, that actually sounds amazing and I want to know about it.)

In short? Write what you want. Write what entertains you. Write the book that you need, that you want, that you find entertaining. Just because some people are tired of it doesn't mean everyone is.

Until next time,
Jenn.



Monday, April 17, 2017

Don't Write Every Day

In the past, I've written about the passive ableism inherent in lots of popular writing advice. Recently on Twitter I posted the following series of tweets:

[Image description: A series of tweets from Twitter user @JennBasel discussing ableist writing advice. The tweets read: 
Stewing on some ideas for a post about how so much creativity advice is passively ableist. Because hoo boy, is it. 
“Write every day or you’re not a real writer!” is advice that’s been super harmful to me personally. I /can’t./ I only have so many spoons. 
“You have to force yourself to put your but [sic] in the chair and write!” is well and good on days I haven’t used all my spoons on basic hygiene. 
Some days I have fewer spoons & have to put them toward eating & getting dressed. I’m not less of a writer for not writing on those days.]

[Image description: A series of tweets from Twitter user @JennBasel discussing ableist writing advice. The tweets read:

I really can’t treat writing like a job most days, because even just existing is hard. “Write when you can,” is the policy I work by.

Today I made a to-do list, took one look at it, and nearly panicked because I KNEW it wasn’t doable. I cut everything that wasn’t vital.

tl;dr, don’t act as if “write every day” or “treat writing like a job” are accessible ways to approach being a writer. They’re not.

This thread brought to you by an autistic writer with severe anxiety and chronic fatigue, among many other things.]

I posted screenshots of these tweets on my Tumblr, and almost immediately started getting comments from fellow disabled writers that made me realize just how necessary this sentiment is. Multiple people across Twitter and Tumblr replied with thanks, and with frustration that this same sentiment isn't more common.

It really upset me. As nice as it is to have strung together words that resonated with people, these words shouldn't be so rare that they strike such a chord.

Too many writer communities get hung up on what it takes to be a "real writer." How much do you have to write? How often? How seriously? With what goals? To what end? All of these questions get debated hotly, and the conclusions that get drawn are almost always variations on, "You have to write every day, with the goal of publication, with the intent on making it a lucrative career."

That's a bunch of crap.

Not only is it dismissive and rude to those who write solely for fun, with no desire to make it a career, it's downright cruel to those of us who have tried our damnedest to meet those standards and failed because they are utterly inaccessible. I have broken myself in pursuit of that "real writer" ideal. It sapped my love of the craft, killed my creativity, and made me absolutely miserable.

"Write every day" is hurting people. It's time to acknowledge that, widely and loudly. I shouldn't be one of the only people saying it.

Write in the way that's best for you. Write what you can, when you can. If all you can manage is once every blue moon, you're not somehow "not a writer." You still write. You still have that desire to tell stories and have fun with it. Arbitrary quotas mean nothing, especially when they're imposed by other people.

I'm making this post not necessarily to elaborate on what I said in my tweets, but to keep boosting the message: You aren't less of a writer because you can't write every day. You aren't less of a writer because you can't or don't want to treat writing like a job. You aren't less of a writer because you don't write as much or as often as some other writers do. You don't have to meet someone else's arbitrary standards.

Write in the way that is best for you.

Until next time,
Jenn.

(If you enjoyed this post, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-Fi. Thanks!)


Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Self-Publishing and Taking Things Into My Own Hands

I never thought I'd be interested in self-publishing, and yet here we are. There's still an agent out there with my full manuscript, but unless they respond soon and want to talk, I think self-publishing is where I really ought to go.

When I first started writing with the goal of publication, the publishing industry was still very set against self-published authors. "Self-publishing is for quitters and the people who can't hack it in the 'real' publishing industry," was the general sentiment. While that is still around, it's not as widely accepted as fact as it used to be.

Ebook publishing had made self-publishing a lot more accessible and profitable, and some truly amazing communities have sprung up around it. Folks who aren't in it for the money and just want to share their stories have put together amazing resources for those who want to do the same.

The traditional publishing industry is a slow-moving, slow-changing behemoth. It's what works for a lot of people, and it's put out a lot of quality content. But it's not the only way to do things.

I'm a queer, disabled, broke twentysomething who just wants to write stories about people like me and hopefully make somebody's day a little brighter. And the fact of the matter is that people like me also tend to be broke. I want the power to say, hey, I'm putting my book on sale for .99 this week, so the people who need it can actually access it. I want to be able to say, hey, you can't afford even that much, but you seem like you'd really enjoy my work, so here's a free copy.

I want the power to say, hey, this style of writing isn't popular with agents or editors, but I think it's fun and I want to try it. I want the power to choose my titles and my covers, and have my hands in every part of the process.

It's going to be a lot of work, but I think it will be better for me in the end. I don't want to have a huge following, and I don't care if I don't make a cent. I just want to know that my stories are getting read by people who need them and enjoy them.

I'm not completely closing the door on traditional publishing, but for now...for now, let's see how well I can do on my own. It'll be a challenge, and it'll be a lot of work, but since deciding to give it a try I feel much more enthusiastic and excited about sitting down and writing. That's something I haven't felt in a long time.

It feels like I've put power back into my own hands after an eternity of stagnation. And that's nice.

Until next time,
Jenn.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

The Obligatory Intro Post

Hello everyone! I'm back on Blogger!

My writer life has been all over the place over the past couple of years, and I recently sat down to figure out what direction I actually want to take it. For now, I'm going to be taking a break from novel-length fiction to focus on short stories and getting involved in online writer communities again. I still have several novels on the backburner that I will absolutely be returning to, but for now I could use a break.

If you already know me, you know that I'm a self-described queer neurodivergent mess. My pronouns are they/them/their. I am always looking for positive fictional representation of all things queer and autistic. I love tales of fantasy and adventure--books, video games, film, you name it. I grew up on Harry Potter and went on to devour things like A Song of Ice and Fire. Give me a sweeping fantasy with a strong political bent and a seasoning of court intrigue and I'm there.

I'm getting back into blogging and various other social media to make connections with other writers. I got my start in the Twitter publishing community, and I miss all the friends I made. I'd love to be a part of that again, so don't hesitate to hit me up on whatever social media platform we share. You can find my links on the "Links & Contact" page up there in the header. Please don't email me unless it's absolutely necessary, though--I will probably forget to respond. Emails are for review requests and business.

If you're unfamiliar with my writing, I hope you'll stick around to read some of it! I'll be uploading weekly(ish) short stories on my Medium page, as well as sharing updates to my ongoing Skyrim fanfiction on Archive of our Own. Links to both of those are on the links page as well.

Lastly, if you do read my writing and want to kick a little cash my way, you can find me on Patreon! There are small rewards for those who back me, including critiques of your own personal writing by yours truly. You don't have to give me money in order to read my stories, but Patrons do get access to some exclusive content. Check it out if you can. My day job is baking, and that doesn't cover all the bills. Every dollar is much appreciated. You can find a link to my Patreon on the sidebar or on the links page.

Welcome to the blog, everyone--I hope you enjoy my ramblings. Feel free to let me know what you'd like me to talk about, because I am always open to suggestions.

Until next time,
Jenn.