Just The Caffeine Talking

Please FORWARD This IMPORTANT WARNING!

I've been following the news about the upcoming vote on whether or not Scotland should leave the United Kingdom. Interesting stuff. But then I had a shocking realization: there is a Sinister Plan underlying the whole scheme, and I'm sounding the alarm to make sure everyone is aware of what's going on. 

Follow the timeline:

1603: James VI of Scotland changes his last name to I and becomes King of England and Scotland.

1607: First successful British colony in the New World, named Jamestown after Mr. I.

1707: Act of Union turns England and Scotland into Great Britain.

1776: British colonies in the New World declare their independence from Great Britain, and after a bit of a dust-up with the Redcoats, form the United States of America.

Notice anything missing from that timeline? Let me spell it out: we never declared our independence from Scotland. This wasn't a problem as long as Scotland was safely tucked into the United Kingdom. But once they're loose again, what's the first thing the Scots are going to do? Try to reclaim America, that's what!

So we have to be ready. We have to be vigilant. Is it just a coincidence that the largest purveyor of fast food in America, with locations in every town and hamlet, has an obviously Scottish name? Is it just another convenient coincidence that the most popular brand of personal computer, handling all the private data and messages of millions of Americans, also has a suspiciously Scottish name?

I don't think so. Wake up, sheeple! Before the tartan-lined jackboot is on our necks!

Diversity and DragonCon

In recent years the cozy cameraderie of the science fiction world has been disrupted by controversies over diversity and tolerance. We've been told that SF is too white, too male, and too straight, and that we need to Do Something to change that.

I'm not going to grapple with the question of whether the demographics of a given branch of literature and its fans should necessarily reflect that of the nation or the world. There are both valid and bogus arguments for and against that notion, and all of them have been made too often. Instead, I'm going to point out that the whole issue is based on a false premise.

As I mentioned a couple of posts back, I spent a weekend at DragonCon in Atlanta recently, and as a result of that trip I am convinced there is simply no lack of diversity within fandom at all. DragonCon had large numbers of fans of every race, a male-to-female ratio better than the college I went to, and (judging by some costumes and T-shirts) a pretty active gay and lesbian contingent.

Quite simply, SF and fantasy fandom is wonderfully diverse. What isn't diverse is the group of fans and writers who attend the smaller, older, literary-focused conventions like Readercon, WisCon, and the annual Worldcon. Writers and fans with an interest in diversity issues go to those conventions and see the same other graying white people who go to those conventions, and they hold earnest discussions about how to make SF more diverse.

Meanwhile the younger, more diverse — and vastly larger — cohort of fans are going to Comic-Cons in New York, San Diego, or Salt Lake City. They're going to DragonCon and PAX and GenCon. Hundreds of thousands of them are going. They enjoy science fiction movies, TV shows, comics, computer games, webcomics, tabletop games, card games, fan fiction, anime, LARPs, and probably some enormous hobbies I don't even know about. They're having fun doing what they enjoy. And what they don't enjoy are serious-minded panels about the need for more diversity.

So here's my prescription for how to make science fiction more diverse: SF writers need to get out more. Go to mega-conventions, try your hand in different media, and create works with genuine appeal. The fans have voted with their feet and made their wishes very clear. They want the fun stuff, not earnest finger-wagging. Instead of worrying about making SF more diverse, we should focus on making SF more fun again. Bring the fun and the diversity will follow.              

Happy Publication Day

Today is the official publication date of the Hieroglyph anthology. Huzzah!

A word about publication dates: they're almost meaningless. At one time the pub date (that's cool writers-n-publishers slang for publication date) was the day the book actually went on sale. You still see that occasionally, for big best-seller releases like the later Harry Potter novels. The publisher actually embargoed the book until 12:01 a.m. on the publication date. 

But usually the publication date is just a day on the calendar. It doesn't mark the start of the marketing campaign — that begins weeks earlier. It doesn't have much to do with the availability of the book; that has more to do with when the cartons of reach Amazon's distribution centers. The authors have all seen their copies long before, and review copies went out months ago.

So why do we have a publication date at all? Well, some elements of an author's contract are tied to it, and it certainly is useful to have a stake in the ground for planning purposes. If the pub date for Hieroglyph is September 9, then the promotions department knows review copies have to be sent out in March, and signings should be set up for the month of September. The print buyer has that as the ship date for negotiations with the printer, and so forth.

But I also think there's a sentimental reason. Authors and editors both frequently talk about books as their "babies." It's only natural that you want to have a birth date for your baby. I suspect this reason may be as important as all the others, though nobody will admit it. So, happy birthday Hieroglyph!

 

 

Here Be Dragons: Dragon-Con 2014

My talented wife Diane Kelly was invited to participate in this year's Dragon-Con in Atlanta as a science panelist. I tagged along, for several reasons.

My first priority was to work in a little book promotion for A Darkling Sea and the upcoming Corsair. To that end I volunteered to help man the SFWA table at the convention, and printed up some postcards to pass around. I also wanted to do a little scouting around, to see if this would be a good convention to add to my list of regular stops. And, finally, there was a little nostalgia at work: I went to the old Atlanta Fantasy Fair back in the 1980s, and attended an early Dragon-Con in 1994, so I wanted to see how the convention scene in Atlanta has changed.

I got there on Friday afternoon, and got my first pleasant surprise. Check-in for prepaid memberships was more rapid and hassle-free than just about anything involving other people in the modern world. No line, no forms, no cavity search.

Diane and I dined early at an excellent Turkish restaurant (Truva Turkish Kitchen) and then plunged into the heart of the con.

The first thing we learned: Dragon-Con is big. Really big. The figure 65,000 people was bandied about; I don't know how accurate that is but it's certainly the right ballpark. Downtown Atlanta was full of costumed congoers. Really full. The three giant convention hotels (Hyatt, Marriott, and Hilton) were simply packed. Just getting from one building to another required a quarter-hour of filing along in an orderly mob up escalators and through the Habitrail connections between towers.

The immense crowd provided wonderful opportunities for people-watching. A large fraction of the congoers were in costume on Friday and Saturday; I'd guess at least a third of the people were dressed as something. The costumes were uniformly creative and excellent — not just garden-variety Gandalfs and Captain Kirks, but weird mashups like the redneck bounty hunter Bubba Fett, Iron Totoro, or Steampunk Superman. There were also a lot of women in revealing cross-gender superhero costumes (female Thor, female Loki, female Deadpool, female Flash, and doubtless some others).

While waiting to meet with some science bloggers at a get-together organized by io9 editrix Annalee Newitz we observed a platoon of perfectly-costumed Spartans, and I commented to my wife that they represented more well-toned male physiques than at all the conventions I attended in my youth combined. In fact, that was a notable feature of the costumers at Dragon-Con: all the spandex-clad superheroes, shirtless barbarians, chainmail bikini babes, and sexy whatever costumers had plausibly appropriate body types. America may be suffering an obesity epidemic, but fans are in better shape than ever.

And the fans were everywhere. Our hotel was one of the overflow locations, three MARTA stops away from the Peachtree Center complex, but even there one could look out of the window at any random time and see Dragon-Con attendees in costume. (Either that or a lot of Atlanta natives like to dress up as superheroes and sexy zombies.)

Diane had her first panel late Friday night, called "Nature is Kinkier Than You Are," all about the weirder varieties of animal reproduction. Despite the fact that the room parties were already starting to get under way and the presence of a bouncer at the door checking IDs (to avoid youngsters seeing shocking video of shark mating) the room was packed. As a friend observed, when you have close to a hundred thousand people present, even the obscure topics can fill a room.

On Saturday Diane had her second panel, about the biology of mermaids, giant monsters, and other imaginary creatures. I couldn't get into that one due to my SFWA table duty, and then I spent a couple of hours at some of the fascinating (and full) space exploration presentations. We dined with some friends at the OK Cafe, and eventually went back to our room to collapse. (On the way back to our hotel we passed one of Atlanta's trendy nightspots, and damned if there weren't people in Star Trek costumes waiting in line to get in.)

Sunday was a bit more low-key. The crowds weren't as massive and people were shifting back into street clothes. I spent a couple of hours making a tour of the gigantic dealer space, which occupied an entire trade show exhibit hall. I was a bit disappointed to see only one book dealer there — the SF convention mainstay Larry Smith Booksellers. Allen Steele was at the booth signing books, so we took a few minutes to catch up on Western Massachusetts gossip. I also tracked down dark historical fantasy author E.C. Ambrose at her publisher's booth.

After a second meal at the Turkish place with some more friends, we packed up and left. Forty-eight hours at Dragon-Con left us both exhausted and energized. I plan to go back next year.