I Think She’d Be Marvelous

So apparently casting for the upcoming Captain Marvel movie is ramping up. I see the usual suspects suggesting the usual suspects for the title role. And I don’t know that anyone I’m hearing named is a bad choice, mind you, but when I sat down to think about what might make a good Captain Marvel, I came up with someone else.

I’m all in on Kerry Washington for the cinematic Captain Marvel.

I’ll stop right here and clarify that no, I’m not talking about making this film about Monica Rambeau. I’d be thrilled to see that character on screen, too, but that would involve a wholesale concept shift. I suspect the MCU gurus chose their Captain Marvel for her kree / alien / cosmic ties as they expand into outer space for their Infinity War mega-event. Trying to change the course of that monster seems so entirely outside the realm of possibility that I’m not sure it would be worth the effort.

So, yeah, I’m doing my back flips and megaphone cheers for Kerry Washington as Carol Danvers.

Since I can already hear the um actuallys starting with their But Carol Danvers is.., I’ll just stop right there and finish that sentence for you.

Carol Danvers is a woman filled with inner strength and determination.

Carol Danvers is a woman willing to fight against overwhelming odds to do what she thinks is right.

Carol Danvers is a woman whose military background suggests she’s used the previous qualities to push her way up the ranks in one of the ultimate Boys’ Clubs around.

Carol Danvers is a woman with a past of mistakes and tragedy, who’s been beaten by fate and circumstance time and again, gaining power, losing power, but who, at the end of the day, has come out triumphant and ready to keep fighting.

Um, yeah, so what I’m seeing here is someone who feels like she has a lot in common with Washington’s Oliva Pope on Scandal. Sure, her fights there aren’t nearly as physically violent as the kind Captain Marvel is likely to entail, but that’s what stunt doubles and special effects are for.

And while Washington herself hasn’t always been the punching character, her recent turn in Django Unchained, and previous roles in the first two Fantastic Four films, certainly suggest she’s not opposed to being part of a film built around things going ‘splody.

Said role in the FF films also happens to mean Washington’s already dealt with anti-diversity nerdrage and came out on top. I’ve no idea if she wants to wade into the morass again, mind you, but if she did, she at least wouldn’t be coming into the whole thing unawares.

So, yeah, if we’re fancasting that MCU flick? I’m on the Kerry Washington for Carol Danvers train. THAT would be some Marvelous casting, if you ask me.

Pronouns Caught In a Twister

So, after record-breaking attendance at the launch reading, Clockwork Phoenix 5 is now a thing which is officially out in the world. Which means “The Wind at His Back,” my story which starts this particular volume of “tales of beauty and strangeness,” is also officially a thing in the world, about which I couldn’t be more excited.

This story is special to me for several reasons. As I mentioned before, I went through a massive rut of writing basically nothing. What I didn’t say then (because we were talking about a different story), is that “The Wind at His Back” is the first story I wrote when I finally sat down and decided I was ready to write again. For that reason alone it’s pretty significant to me. I’ve sold other stories before this, but managing to sell the story that kind of marks my return to writing is its own unique awesome.

That my first dive back in has also been called out in a Publisher’s Weekly starred review and a Locus review certainly doesn’t hurt the warm fuzzy of it all.

They aren’t all glowing, mind you. One Goodreads reviewer wasn’t particularly impressed by the gay relationship at the heart of the story, where, as he summed it up “Basically, to add gay, change pronouns.”

I’m not highlighting this to be all sour grapes about it, mind you, but rather to lead into the other element of “The Wind at His Back” which makes it mean so much to me. This wasn’t the first time I’d written stories with gay characters, but previous to this, I always worried about writing gay characters. I hemmed and hawed about whether characters “needed” to be gay, if they might distract from other important things in the story.

When I came back to writing, when I sat down to write this story, I finally decided I was going to stop giving a fuck.

Look, when I came back to this, it needed to be something I wanted to do. Something that made me happy. That I was proud of. And I realized I couldn’t really enjoy writing if I had to worry readers might not respond to (or be actively averse to) people like me in fiction written by me. I knew that I, for one, was always extra excited to invest emotionally when a story I was reading or watching decided that (1) I existed, and (2) my existence needed neither a reason nor a special tragedy to justify said existence.

And there it was. Benito started riding from town toward the quiet home and life he’d made after leaving the bloody angst of life as a tornado wrangler, and hell if he didn’t come home to his husband. Pronouns switched. Gay achieved. That was, in fact, exactly how I added gay. And how I keep adding gay. Because of course it won’t be for everyone, but the people it’s for are, to my mind, the audience I want.

I’ve already published several subsequent stories which subscribe to that same “fuck it, you don’t need justification to exist” philosophy I adopted, but in a lot of ways, “The Wind at His Back” has always kind of been the mission statement, the tentpole, the source. That Mike Allen included it in Clockwork Phoenix 5, then, is an intense kind of validation.

Now, enough blubbering from me. Go read about my former tornado wrangler facing his troubled past while just trying to have a nice quiet life with his husband and the neighboring giants and his drinking buddy and her pet jackalope. The Mythic Delirium site’s collected the slew of formats and vendors into one handy post to help you out.

All The News

And into the void that is my blog updating schedule, lo there were a bunch of things to update (some of which may not be a surprise if you’ve been checking my bibliography page), so let’s dive in:

Almost available for your greedy reading needs:

I was lucky enough to make the cut for Clockwork Phoenix 5 (pre-order info at the link). As usual, I’ll probably wax on aspects of it more when it’s alive-alive, but for those keeping track, this is the third story set in the “Tall” universe. This time out, we’re tackling exactly what being a twister-wrangling Pac really entails. Also, tortured pasts and giants and magic trees because it wouldn’t be a Tall story without them.

Plus: men kissing and maybe doing a little more than kissing.

CP5 already has a starred review from Publishers Weekly. It even mentions my little story by name, which was extra nice.

If you’re a Goodreads person, you can also enter the giveaway for one of 12 copies of the book if you want to devour all the weird goodness for free.

Waiting in the wings for your greedy audio needs:

I just signed the contract for another story sale, this time to YA podcast Cast of Wonders. In a shocking turn of events, this story isn’t set in the world of any of my other stories. I know: a standalone? What new terrifying reality is this?

Don’t worry, dear hearts. It’s not quite the unrecognizable alien landscape you fear it to be. There’s still supernatural whatsis and boys kissing, so you needn’t worry I’ve completely lost my senses.

I’m excited to see this one, since it’s literally the oldest story I’ve written that I was still trying to get published.

Nope. Not finished yet.

I also had some roller-coaster-y excitement last week, when it turns out I made the shortlist for The James White Award, presented to one ‘non-professional’ writer as part of the BSFA award ceremony.

Ultimately I didn’t win, but making it to a final cut of 6 from a pool of around 350 entries was nothing to shrug at.

So, what’s new with you?

If You Can’t Tell People of Color From Dogs and Martians, I Can’t Help You

I did a bit of spitting and stuttering about this interview of The Coen Brothers by Jen Yamato on social media, but the more I stewed, the more I had to rant about, so I thought I’d take it to the lengthier venue of the blog.

Ignore the title of over at The Daily Beast. This is only tangentially about The Oscars. It’s far more substantively about the Coens who, after saying diversity is important, spin on their heels and dig in when questions of diversity are leveled at them (specifically, their newest film). The most egregious response comes from Joel Coen, when asked about criticism of a lack of non-white characters in Hail, Caesar!:

You don’t sit down and write a story and say, ‘I’m going to write a story that involves four black people, three Jews, and a dog,’—right? That’s not how stories get written. If you don’t understand that, you don’t understand anything about how stories get written and you don’t realize that the question you’re asking is idiotic.

I suppose I should at least be impressed by how very many ways Coen is fundamentally wrongheaded in such a short space. I mean, efficiency of language is something.

Still:

Let’s get some of the most hateful bits out of the way right here. A white, straight man is sitting around telling his Asian-American female interviewer that she’s an idiot for questioning his choices as a creator. This is such prototypical whitemansplaining that we might as well just stop using other examples. Joel Coen wins the crown.

I’ll give him some mild kudos for thinking to include “three Jews” in his hypothetical list that Writers Don’t Make. In the end, though, whether he’s throwing an ostensibly self-deprecating bone at himself or not, he still just implied that switching out white people for ethnic minorities if there isn’t A Big Reason for it is as asinine as replacing people with dogs. Aside from the fact that you’re only half a step removed from making “mongrel” comments, there, someone who claims to know “how stories get written” should probably know the difference between people and dogs. (special exceptions for writers of werewolf and anthropomorphic fiction notwithstanding). If you don’t, I’m pretty sure no one asking you questions is the one who’s an idiot.

More specific to the film in question, though, it sounds like Hail, Caesar! is exactly the kind of story which did start with a list of character concepts: The Marquee Actor, The Water Movie Starlet, The Hollywood Fixer. It’s a “day in the life” movie, after all, predicated on the notion that there are a lot of stories to tell about different Hollywood types. That kind of story by its very nature involves sitting down and thinking about which iconic character types you want to explore, what unique elements you want to bring to them (because if this is the same story we’ve already heard, why do we give a fuck?), then finding a way to weave them together.

Which is to say, if you’re already sitting down and saying we want a story with a big name star and someone from those Busby Berkely water musicals and a fresh-eyed kid and a grizzled veteran, you’re doing exactly the thing you’re pretending is idiotic: making a character list  with types of people in the real world.

Meaning that in the actual examining, it’s not idiotic at all. It’s how you craft characters. You sit down and think about who the people in your world are. Where they’re from. What they do. You give them lives and backgrounds. Different lives and backgrounds. If you didn’t, you’d have a story filled with a dozen of the same person. Which, short of that bit in Being John Malkovich, is a boring, horrible idea.

Pretending that taking a few moments in your character-building to consider the ethnic or sexual or gender or disability backgrounds of your characters as you strive for a vital, varied world that engages your audience is — at the insanely least — disingenuous.

And on the subject of four of one, three of another, etc., it’s long past time we stop pretending there’s a quota going on here. Seriously. There’s a request for storytellers to be more thoughtful about the world around them. That’s actually pretty much your job. It doesn’t help that this all comes with the infuriating implication that a movie full of white people is one where race happened naturally. Never considering if there was maybe too much White Default going on in the story is, actually, a choice.

If someone asks you “why is this movie so white?” and you have an answer which suggests it was for reasons other than being too lazy to conceive of any other configuration, fine. Whether or not it resonates, at least it means you thought about it. But when someone asks you “why is this movie so white?” and you just get dismissive and defensive, that tells me you never thought about it before.

In the end, I’m utterly exhausted by the authorial defense which insists that taking five minutes of story planning to consider that people other than the White (mostly male) Default exist in the world is some kind of egregious impediment to creativity or artistic integrity or storytelling or whatever-the-hell other stand in for The Muse happens to be word of the day.

People of all stripes exist in the real world. If you’re a storyteller, you’re building a world, too, and it is nothing short of lazy if you do not — in the course of that worldbuilding — consider the place of diverse individuals within it.

On Storytelling and Alien Perspectives

The latest episode of The Sockdolager podcast is live. Editors Paul Starr and Alison Wilgus share their insights on what they liked, loved, and noodled over for all of the stories in the Fall issue. As you may recall (and if you don’t, obviously I am un-subtly reminding you), this was the issue in which Hide Behind saw the light of published day.

Alison and Paul say a lot of the kind of complimentary stuff that makes the self-deprecating voices in my head squirm and wriggle, which is always nice. I won’t rehash all of it, because you should just go listen, but I will say I was especially happy that they made note of Yuna’s asexuality.

I did a lot of fiddling and angsting to find a way to make Yuna’s sexuality explicit without something so clunky as “As an asexual, Yuna…” in the narration or, worse, giving someone horrible “You see, Yuna, since you’re asexual…” dialogue. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

In editing, we never actually discussed any of the characters’ sexuality, though, so I’ll admit part of me wondered, but: it reads. Huzzah!

The other interesting bit I wanted to highlight is a discussion Paul and Alison have about whether or not this story takes place on Earth. Which never occurred to me, though I suppose it should have: while I was shopping this story around, a fantasy-only market I subbed it to rejected it explicitly because they thought it was too sci-fi for them.

Here’s the thing: in my head, “Hide Behind” takes place on an alt-history Earth filled with folklore come to life. However, I also have the benefit of having read the other stories I’ve set in this world. Only, one of those was published in an anthology that I’m not sure has got a lot of attention, one is forthcoming and thus isn’t in very many hands, either, and the others are either out on sub or aren’t even finished yet.

Stripped of other-story context, it makes sense. Most of the other stories lean a lot more heavily into the folklore and magic aspects. Yuna and Ruthie’s story, though, is probably the lowest on magic of any of the Tall stories. Which is intentional. I very much wanted to explore the nature of medicine and science in a world populated by so much fantastic, magical stuff. How do you navigate that, I wondered?

As a result, the mystical nature of the world gets a whole lot more grounding. When you actually start dissecting a giant and performing botanical grafts of trees with healing fruit, things become less magical and more alien.

Which, honestly, is its own kind of cool. “Hide Behind” is a story about characters who are alienated in a lot of ways, after all. Given one of my intentions with the Tall stories is to create works that can stand on their own (I’ve not sold more than one of them to the same market), but which can also provide a different experience for folks who have read more than one, this actually feels like proof of concept.

Also: I blame Firefly. ;)

Requisite Awards Eligibility Post

To be honest, this post is as much me attempting to flip off my Impostor Syndrome as anything else, so *obscene gesture inside my brain*.

Alrighty then, let’s get to it:

Given that I’ve only ramped up writing and submitting in the last year and change, there’s really not a lot of distinction I need to make here from my full bibliography. Right now the latter is organized in reverse chronological order, since it makes sense to me to highlight my most recent sales first, but it’s not like anyone needs to do heavy scrolling to find the 2015 pubs.

Also, if it matters, this is my first year of eligibility for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. I understand that largely falls on the shoulders of novelists, but hey, don’t self-reject, right?

All my pubs this year are in the Short Story (<7,500 words) category. If there's a link, it's because the story is free to read online, so have at if you didn't before:

  • “Broken” (on Escape Pod #509) November 2015
  • “Hide Behind” (in The Sockdolager #3) September 2015
  • “At Her Fingertips” (in Betwixt #7) April 2015
  • “Tall” (in Twice Upon A Time (Bearded Scribe Press)) January 2015
  • “Detritus” (in Sci Phi Journal #3) January 2015
  • The Title Applies to Everyone

    I couldn’t start this post.

    No, really. I’ve deleted at least a dozen versions of it, because all of them seem pedantic, or back-patting, or entitled. That I’m going to get this horribly, insultingly wrong.

    This isn’t entirely new. I get semi-regularly stuck on things when they aren’t exactly right. I latch onto something, and whether I want to or not, I can’t push through it or get around it. My mental wheels spin, and I’m screaming inside because there is no earthly reason why this should be so incredibly difficult. What. The Hell. Is wrong with me?

    Appropriately enough, I was in one of those places when I finally sat down and started “Broken.” Sy’s initial thoughts, his cavalier declarations that his head is broken, were a hyperbolic bit of channeling.

    That’s the thing about mental illness and developmental disorders which I find most … compelling is the wrong word; it casts people living very real challenges as some kind of exoticized zoo exhibit. Terrifying is just as wrong for similar reasons: while I suppose some people may indeed be monsters, I don’t think the people struggling to make it through the day qualify.

    So there isn’t a good word for it, which I suppose is also appropriate. Regardless, one of the things at the heart of Sy’s story is the realization that something inside isn’t “normal,” and that, further, knowing this doesn’t necessarily allow him to change that thing inside. If it were that easy, I’m not sure how many of us wouldn’t just flip that magical switch.

    Even outside the world of science fiction, there’s a false equivalence drawn between self-awareness and self-actualization. If we know what the problem is, then why the heck can’t we fix it by deciding not to give it audience? In a world where science works what we might think of as miracles, it’s even more tempting to allow for a quick fix.

    Of course, the very notion of normal is especially troubling and problematic on the asteroid colonies collectively known as The Rim. There, every single person exists with a twisted genetic code thanks to the inheritable plague that is The Skew. What the hell does normal even mean in that context? But if everyone is telling you it means not who you are, what does that mean for you?

    Inside, after all, is us. If you change yourself, do you change your self? What do you give up to be “better,” to be “normal”?

    What if the answer is too much?