While the Kittens are at Malice...

Sproing! If all's gone according to plan, two of our WoM, Nan and Elaine, will soon be arriving in the D.C. metro area. There, they'll be feted with malice aforethought for three days, and we expect succulent morsels of still-steaming dish served promptly upon their return. We also wish them a wonderful time, and to Nan, fingers crossed for the Agatha award! Since our ranks have been thinner as of late, I've been taking the mouse's chance to post, boing, post. It can't last.

All the recent conference activity (mystery, comic-sff, romantic) in turn spins off lots of spirited blogtalk about the states of the industry from various angles. Combine that with recent kerfuffles, first spawned online, re: plagiarism and reviews, and lots of questions have been raised recently about civility and collegiality across genres and cyberspace itself. I don't claim to have the answers, but there are more raw and funny opinions you may enjoy reading while coming to your own conclusions.

Nancy Martin of The Lipstick Chronicles enjoyed the recently-held Romantic Times in Pittsburgh, but behavior from attendees and exhibitors got beyond some folks's comfort range. As a prime example, some of the gentlemen models promoting an erotica line seem to have become 'handsy' in old parlance, creating consternation and issues of accountability. Where's the line between appreciating playful, edgy marketing and needing to get yourself steam-cleaned? Aside from her notes about hand sanitizer, Nancy makes fascinating observations about the different ways she saw readers connecting with books (the news ain't all bad!) and the way romance is growing its new generation of fans. Interesting stuff with wider application, I think.

Richard K. Morgan wrote a commissioned piece about the vitriol in the speculative fiction community that was so negative, he says, the man paying didn't want to run it. So he posted "Sound and Fury, Signifying...?" on his blog. If you don't know or care about the difference between mundane scifi and space opera, for example, feel free to insert any other warring sub-genres of your choice as you read. Now, I think Morgan would disagree with this last suggestion, as he claims that the world of mystery is eminently more civil than sff. Well maybe, and maybe it is the average age of the writers and readership at work. However, I think he grants the crime fiction crowd too many laurels when he writes:

...you don't get this gnawing, mutilative thread of self-hatred, this bulemic purging of whole sub-genres or readership sub-sections as somehow unworthy. A quick trawl through a couple of dozen crime writer websites and messageboards reveals no agendas or dogme-style utterances, no towering rages or griping about how the genre's going to shit these days, how there's all this generic pap being published, how this strain of crime writing is so much more valid than this other strain...

I quickly found this interview with legendary publisher/agent/bookseller Otto Penzler on Evil E, where he does take shots, as is his wont, at the so-called cat mysteries. He's known for it, but he's not alone. The books involving animals centrally, especially as crimefighters their furry selves, are extremely beloved and also widely mocked and reviled. Noir versus Meow- you can easily locate that snarking once your own antenna's hoisted. Perhaps this dispute is milder than ones in sff, but there are plenty of writers of "gritty, dark" fiction (and I've written some myself) who hold what's "cozy" in contempt. Lots of the cozy readers and writers feel disaffected and unwanted, and resent being pushed into ever darker stories as if it weren't okay to like what they like.

I'm a jukebox that plays all the songs from time to time, and believe more graphic violence and less-redeeming characters do not necessarily equate to elevated quality in the writing or storytelling. Careless writers toss in expletives and savagery without humanity, assuming their blue-streaked dialogue sings like Leonard's can and that readers intrinsically care for any thug or thugette they meet. Well, no. Even other thugs cross the street from certain crazies and death-bound baddies. Fans of the grimmest stuff are mostly quite nice, but getting readers over instinctive urges to cut bait with these losers is part of what makes the great writers of bleakness so satisfying to read. When they're not as good, repulsion and fatigue win for me. But, aside from that aside, I think this kind of internecine fragmentation happens any time someone likes mild versus hot salsa, for example, and doesn't much feel like they need improving simply because of their preferences.

The online world of free opinion sometimes seems less like a great party and more like an arena. There are times you want to change conversations or even grab your coat, preferably of rhinoceros hide. How you respond isn't really anyone else's purview, and depends on how you yourself are wired. You may decide finally to walk away, concentrate on your writing as best you can, and stay out of the scrum. Fair enough. You might also decide to join in with gusto and glee, irony as your Kevlar. For myself, I still find it all more exciting and amusing than awful, and as long as I do, I'm glad to have a front-row seat for whatever's Next.
Boing!