On Feeling Helpless

In November, I wrote about why I might go quiet from time to time (here). For the most part, everything I said then is still true. I still feel lost sometimes, and I still don’t know what will happen next. I’ve read the history books and I know where this could end, but despite everything, I’m still an optimist.

 

When I signed in to write this, I was sort of stunned that my last post was my end-of-year query stats from December. I have been quieter lately, but I didn’t realize how much. I could have sworn I posted something in May or June. I’ve signed in to write drafts of new posts and then never finished. They’re still sitting there. They’re mostly about writing tips and publishing, of course, and someday I’ll post them when it feels like that’s what I should be writing about again.

 

Mostly I’ve been feeling helpless. In January and February, it felt like everyone I knew was taking a sabbatical to become full-time activists. We marched, we donated, we wrote letters, we called our representatives, we attended rallies, and then little by little we realized we couldn’t keep up that pace forever. We focused on work again and things started to feel normal. We’d still press pause and hold our breath during crucial votes in Congress, and we’d still donate and call our representatives, but we could work again. Uninterrupted. We could tweet about books and self-promote and make jokes again. And it felt nice. Like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all as long as we all stay engaged.

 

After what happened in Charlottesville, the culmination of all the things we feared would happen after he got sworn in, I feel helpless again. I’m having earnest conversations with friends about how to stop white supremacists. I’m watching centrist and apolitical friends slowly fall for the “both sides are bad” rhetoric. I don’t know what to do.

 

Switching gears slightly.

 

Almost every writer I follow on Twitter has been tentatively peeking out to whisper “is it OK if I promote my book?” I’ve watched giveaways come and go, cover reveals get a few Likes, and thought to myself “man, I hope the intended audience sees that.”  I try to promote my own clients too, and feel that same level of guilt. Is it OK to be self-serving right now? Is it OK to enjoy something and want to share that joy? Is it OK to do these things in hopes of getting sales and pre-orders? Because that’s why we do them, right? This is our job. We shouldn’t feel guilty about taking pride in our work and expecting income from it.

 

So, I’m giving every writer permission to tweet, blog, instagram, etc. to promote your books. Post happy things. But stay engaged and learn to read the room. If every person in your feed is focused on something else, maybe schedule that self-promo tweet for a time people will see it.

 

As for me, and going back to my own helplessness, I’m trying to take my own advice. I recently tweeted that I get easily overwhelmed when I can’t fix everything (hey, anxiety, hey!), but eventually I remember I can do something and that’s OK too. So, what can I do? Focus on what I can control.

 

What I want to do: Remove all Confederate statues and replace them with memorials to victims and/or monuments to people of color who served this country.

What I can do: Represent marginalized writers and diverse stories. Their books can be those monuments. Normalize different races, religions, gender identities, & sexual orientations by giving white/straight/cis readers familiar stories with unfamiliar perspectives. Embolden marginalized readers by showing them their stories matter, and that they are more than their struggle.

 

I can’t fight individual sexists, but I can help combat the patriarchy to prevent future sexism. I can’t change the minds of every white supremacist, but I can challenge white supremacy and sacrifice my white privilege to do it.

 

Sometimes what I do is going to feel so small and pointless that I’ll feel helpless all over again. Maybe that will happen to you too. But I’m putting this in writing as a way to move on, and serve as a reminder to anyone reading that tiny things add up. It’s also OK to do your own thing. You’re not alone.

 

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(sorry, couldn’t resist)

Personal Politics

If you’ve been in the blogosphere and Twittersphere today, you may have heard about this article, which told the story of two authors who were told by an agent to “straighten” their gay characters. The authors, Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith, weren’t sure if the agent in question had a personal stance on LGBT people, or if the decision was about LGBT characters who, in his or her opinion, might have been marketing liabilities. After you read the article, and this blog post, please check out the #YesGayYA hashtag on Twitter. Agents, editors, and authors who write and accept LGBT characters have been saying some very reassuring things over there. (While I have yet to contribute to the hashtag, let me just say that I am one of the agents who seek out LGBT characters!)

This introduction is my way of talking about a larger issue. It’s one that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Like the authors of the article, let me just repeat that I do not know, or even assume, that the agent’s political or religious beliefs affected their decision. I choose to believe that the agent thought straight characters would gain a larger audience, which is a little sad and misguided, but it’s not sinister or even homophobic. Still, I think it warrants the question, should someone’s personal politics affect their business choices?

Like I said, I’ve thought about this before today, and to me the answer is no. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume, based on things I say in real life and online, that writers are aware I’m a liberal. It’s part of my personal belief system, and while I try to keep it at bay in a professional setting, things do slip out. I don’t ever want to get into a political discussion on my blog because that’s not what it is for, so allow me to explain why I bring this up.

Sometimes I get queries that have agendas. And sometimes writers will query me with them because they think I share their desire to spread that agenda. I don’t. I never will. It’s true that I wouldn’t feel comfortable representing a book whose purpose is to promote a belief I don’t share – particularly if it’s one I feel strongly about. However, there are other queries that clearly have an anti-Republican stance, and the fact these writers think I’d want to spread that stance is insulting. On the other side of it, some projects might even have a story about a specific “liberal” cause I personally believe in, but I have absolutely no interest in perpetuating something so overt. These types of books are sometimes called “issue books,” and plenty of agents represent them. They even seek them out. But those books make me uncomfortable most of the time because it’s hard to talk about a specific issue without choosing a side. Good fiction, in my opinion, should come without political motive. When a story is good, the reader will interpret their own meaning from it. One person’s cautionary tale is another person’s happy ending.

There have been books I love – even projects I represent – who have characters who think in a way I do not, or have underlying themes that aren’t always in keeping with my personal philosophy. It’s an important part of this business to know what will offend vs. what might be disagreeable. If the hero of your story happens to be a religious man who thinks marriage is between a man and a woman, then he can still be a hero to me even if I disagree with him. However, if your story is about a religious man who tries to stop a gay marriage law from being passed in his home state, then to me he is no longer a hero. It’s a fine line, but it’s there.

If you’re ever in a situation – and hopefully you’re not – in which an agent or editor tells you to change a character in a way that fundamentally alters that character’s livelihood, then don’t be afraid to ask why. If they claim a marketing standpoint, then go do market research to try to prove them wrong. Or look for other agents and editors who might think differently. (Note: I mean look to see if they exist. Don’t leave your agent on the spot.) If it seems unanimous that the agent might have a point (or mostly unanimous since nothing in this business ever is), then try to consider their suggestion.

But if you think the agent or editor is imposing personal politics on you, then you have every right to reject them. If they aren’t willing to compromise their morals, then you shouldn’t be the one who has to.

The article I linked to is sad, but it doesn’t speak for all of us. I think most agents and editors do put aside personal politics for the greater good. Stories are what matter. Writers are what matter. Readers are what matter. If your work speaks to readers, we will find a way to work with you.

Here We Are Now; Entertain Us

I’ve been noticing something for the past couple of weeks. I was trying to ignore it, but now other events, that are just as strange, have made that impossible. Friends, on the streets of New York, I’ve been seeing… scrunchies. I’m not talking about the occasional sighting in tourist-ridden Times Square or on the ironically nostalgic streets of Brooklyn. No, these scrunchies are appearing on subways, in Greenwich Village, and in my very own neighborhood. In other words, they’ve hit the mainstream. I mean, what would Carrie Bradshaw say!?

I was willing to let this go. But then, last week on Twitter I saw that #why90srocked was trending, and Monday night on Conan, CAKE performed. Throw in the way-too-soon-and-downright-evil reboot of Buffy and the fact that teenagers all over the country think that being trendy means dressing like me in 3rd grade, and we have one viable conclusion – the ’90s are back.

This is sad to me for two reasons. The main reason is that, since fashion and trends are cyclical, this means that my generation is now the previous generation. This is depressing on an obvious level, not that we all didn’t see this coming. The other reason the ’90s being back is worrisome is because pretty soon we’re all going to have to re-learn, the hard way, that snap bracelets hurt!

As a ’90s enthusiast, however, I’m excited about the return to what I consider the most interesting decade in modern history (pipe down, ’60s fans, I got your back too). I won’t pretend I fully understood the cultural impact the ’90s had on the country at the time; I’m only now, in my late twenties, beginning to process what I had missed while I was busy growing up.

But, to me, the ’90s symbolized hope. Civil rights, including those of women and LGBT (an acronym, by the way, that started in the ’90s), were by no means where they needed to be, but it felt as if equality was finally on the way. Clinton started DADT, and while that was a bad decision (my blog = my opinion), it still managed to spark a national debate, one that is still very present in the news almost twenty years later. Yet, twenty years before that, I doubt anyone would have even noticed yet another government mandated form of intolerance. We probably wouldn’t have been told it was going on.

More than that, the ’90s, in retrospect only, represent the “before.” Better days, if you will, whatever that means. In the way that “post-war” became attached to literature, film, and even architectural structures after World War II, the phrase “post-9/11” infiltrated our culture in what we read, watch, and how we act. With that one morning, the economically positive, civil rights-defending, overall hopefulness of the ’90s came to a screeching halt. (I’m not, by the way, suggesting that 9/11 is the source of our current financial crisis. It is NOT. Just want to make that clear.) In the early ’00s, we managed to reinstate socially acceptable racism, only this time with a different face. We had a president who not only encouraged this, but he gave the racism a catchy name (“Axis of Evil”). Suddenly having a cowboy in the White House seemed more logical; I guess so he could play his role in the disaster film we were currently living.

The post-9/11, post-’90s world also created a wave of conservatism that, in addition to racial minorities, gays and women were back to being targets – with fewer voices willing to dissent this time around. The idea of two men or  two women getting married is an actual debate. This should say everything there is to say about the way we (America) feel is acceptable behavior. Likewise, a qualified, intelligent, and, yes, ambitious woman was thisclose to being president, and yet she is still, to this day, being denigrated for her choice in clothing, rather than being challenged on her policies. Likewise, I doubt Sarah Palin and Christine O’Donnell would receive even a fraction of “credibility” were it not for their darn physical attractiveness.

We live in a time of The Tea Party, a hate group that has not gained such national attention and support since the early days of the KKK. If the ’90s are coming back, I say bring it on. I’ll suffer through a Vanilla Ice comeback tour if it means returning to a time not dictated by fear and hate.

I don’t usually get so political here, so I’d like to state again that my blog represents my opinion only. Please respect it, especially in the comments section, and I’ll do the same for you.

Now, that said – what does all of this have to do with you as writers? Well, everything. Writers are the ones who get to dictate what’s remembered. We’re both a reflection of, and a cause of, what is happening around us.  The bestselling fiction authors of the 1990s do not differ too much from what we see today. It seems there will always be a Grisham, King, or Koontz novel on that list somewhere. Only now our terrorists and monsters represent different things than before. Will we see a return to Anne Rice vampires? Bridges over Madison, or other, counties? What about books like Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk, that represented a decade so perfectly, the way Jay McInerney and Bret Easton Ellis represented the ’80s? Books written “about the time” in the ’00s were automatically labeled post-9/11. It practically became its own genre. Lorrie Moore’s The Gate at the Stairs comes to mind, but there are others.

Did you know that the New York Times didn’t even have a Children’s Best Seller List until 2000? Apparently they wanted Harry Potter to get off the “real” list, so they gave it its own place. Writers, this speaks volumes of the power you have now.

We’re lucky enough to have finally returned to generation that doesn’t need to be pre- or post- anything. And when the previous generation returns, it means one thing – a new one has just begun. Contribute to its discourse, write its history, and, most importantly, entertain us.