Randomness

Is it just me, or maybe where I live? Or is it a sign of encroaching agedness? It seems to me that the young men I see nowadays fall into two main categories—those who have to hold up their pants when they walk, or those who, having some kind of corporate job, wear their pants a size too small.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against comfort, nor a nicely displayed butt. In fact, I can endorse both those things wholeheartedly. The problem is that neither of these styles fall into either of those categories. The guys wearing the baggy pants all walk like penguins, and it can’t be comfortable to not be able to walk properly, run or trust your pants will stay up. Of course, none of them look like they even HAVE an ass…

As for the others…um, guys, you look like you’re still wearing the pants from your prom suit. I’m not sure where they’re buying these dress pants, but I’m arranging a pitchfork and flaming torch party as soon as I figure it out. Besides, I predict a spate of infertility for these men. It can’t be good to have the boys squeezed up like that in polyester all day! To add insult to injury, it isn’t particularly attractive to see a man walking down the street with what amounts to a planned wedgie.

It’s so bad that when I see a man with a nice ass, in a well-fitting pair of pants, I’m staring, because who knows when next I’ll see another? I’m hoping the fashion wheel will spin once more and bring back something with a little more, or less, room in the toosh. I like penguins but not disguised as men, and tights on anyone other than a superhero doesn't do it for me!

Word Power

I've been on a self-enforced and necessary break from my keyboard but, like any other addict, I just haven't been able to stay away from loops and feeds. Getting my fix of reviews, commentary and snark just never gets old. People, with all their myriad complexities, are facinating. And scary. The sneaky bitch-assery they do to get their point across blows my mind. The fact that they think they're being clever, even when the true intent shines through like a beacon, makes me chuckle. The overabundance of anger evident in some posts just makes me sad. I definitely don't subscribe to the "If you don't have anything nice to say" school of thought, but I also don't subscribe to the 'let me rip you a new one' school either. For me moderation, or a clearly defined style of snark, work a lot better.

And please note I said 'snark,' not vitriol/rage/destructiveness.

Whether we like it or not, words have power. Whether we like it or not, our opinions are simply that--OUR opinions. Just because I don't believe something to be right, or even true, doesn't mean someone else who holds the opposing opinion is necessarily wrong. I learned that a long time ago, forced into the realisation by circumstances and my wise grandfather's words:

"There are three sides to ever story; yours, mine, and the truth."

And often the truth resides in the gray areas we don't want to inhabit or even examine. In this hard-edged world people seem determined to be the blade, the stabbing point, the bludgeon. Slice, dice, obliterate the "enemy,"; be heard by screaming the loudest, even if what they're screaming is opinion, unsupported by anything other than conviction that they're RIGHT, DAMMIT! Often there is no hesitation, no apparent urge to temper a response, even though it will cause pain, escalate conflict, make someone else feel small or stupid. Debates aren't won that way; they're destroyed, and in the destruction is also lost the chance to listen, to learn and to grow.

Blame it on the gremlins

After seeing thorough chastisements in all the places where people have been expressing disgust at Amazon's latest stupidity, including being told we're paranoid, spouting off without having the facts, seeing bogies where none exist, etc. the only response from the corporate behemoth is the old saw about all of this being a "glitch" which will be remedied soon.

If we (romance writers, and erotic/GLBT writers in particular) are simply throwing conspiracy theories around, I know which group I'd propose as the power behind this act, just to shit-disturb. Who suffers most from egg on their face when authors like Erastes and Alex Beecroft threaten to challenge the 'tried and true', being put out by the usual suspects, on the best-sellers list?

Unfortunately, that's just my late-night, over-active, insomnia stressed imagination at work...but damn, that would be fun. Disillutioned as I am with the workings of the world, I have to look for my amusement where I can find it...

I'm preparing to be tickled even further tomorrow, as the PR machine at Amazon churns out spin to try and recover from this friendly fire incident. I feel rather sorry for 'Ashlyn D', who replied to Mark Probst's inquiry. Girlie, you're probable gonna get thrown under the bus by management, with a big sign saying "Scapegoat" hanging around your neck.

That's the way of the world...and frankly it sucks.

Ranting author here

Okay, so I pick up a book the other day and start to read. It’s a literary novel written by a prominent Canadian author and nominated for a very prestigious literary prize. By the time I finished skimming through it (I couldn’t bring myself to read further than a few chapters in) I was depressed, upset and, yes, a little angry too.

Isn’t it amazing that the literary devices genre writers are constantly criticized for using—the big misunderstanding, great whopping gouts of backstory, the sacrifice of communication for description, etc.—constitute genius in the hands of literary writers?

Firstly let me make it clear—I have no beef with literary novels. There have been a number I thoroughly enjoyed and they remain as keepers on my book shelf. Between their covers I found beauty and clarity of language that made my heart sing. The message transmitted by the worlds those authors carefully constructed was worth hearing, and holding on to. Not all of them were cheerful, or even uplifting. In fact there can be a special kind of emotional pain so intense as to be almost sweeter than any joy imaginable. The moment you are forced to confront your worse fear, your deepest shame, the most tightly held secret in the safety of another’s narrative is worth re-visiting.

Having said all that, I have found the same sense of wonder, joy and emotional satisfaction in genre fiction too. There are sci-fi and fantasy novels, thrillers, mysteries and romances that I will never part with, because the stories found within their covers struck the same types of emotional cords as the above-mentioned literary offerings. A great writer is, IMHO, no less great because he or she chooses to pen a romance or thriller. The ability to take us outside ourselves, make us suspend all tightly held beliefs and simply hang on for the ride, laughing, crying, screaming and, yes, on occasion creaming our panties, is not limited to those “lofty” few who swim in literary waters. In fact, in recent years I’ve found far more genre novels worth keeping than literary.

Just because a book contains a mish-mash of self-consciously overdone (and self-congratulatory) prose and imagery does not, in my eyes, make it a work of genius. If an author feels the need to be so esoteric you have to scramble for a dictionary, thesaurus or encyclopaedia (or all three) every two paragraphs or so, then something’s wrong. The object is to keep the reader in the moment, not lead him or her off on an unscheduled tangent.

Likewise it seems strange to me a piece of fiction can be lauded as an emotional tour-de-force, and yet leave me completely and utterly unmoved. I consider myself an author’s dream reader. I am open to everything—willing, no downright eager, to plunge into the world between those covers—anger, pain, joy, lust, heartache, love, hate, WHATEVER...bring it on. Just don’t bore me, or go into such minutiae my mind wanders off to other, more important things, like flossing, or laundry.

And the comments above are aimed at all writers, no matter the genre.

In the end though, what really made me angry is the realization that really good genre novelists will never be offered the kinds of prizes, awards and accolades some of these literary hacks (YES I SAID THAT BAD WORD) are. While the elite few are enjoying their grants and retreats, compliments of governments and snooty endowments, where are the incentives for genre writers? Where the encouragement and offers of help to allow them time to grow and develop? Where the respect?

Funnier yet, when you realise which of these two groups makes the bigger economic impact, selling the most books, creating the bigger cash flow. Genre fiction keeps publishing, even in its mostly archaic state, viable. Genre fiction is, and will continue to be, in the vanguard of the publishing revolution now taking place.

Not all genre fiction is good. Not all literary fiction is either. All I wish is that there was a more of an admission of those facts, and people would stop looking down on very good authors in favour of others, less deserving of the praise just because they are considered "literary".