"Perhaps so many journals had piled up in the lighthouse because on some level most came, in time, to recognize the futility of language. Not just in Area X but against the rightness of the lived-in moment, the instant of touch, of connection, for which words were such a sorrowful disappointment, so inadequate an expression of both the finite and the infinite."
From Acceptance, book 3 of
Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer
Len Peralta's amazing adaptation of a certain superstar raccoon. The path we take to our creativity is totally unlike the path anyone else will ever travel. (Note: Be sure to check out and buy more of Len's artwork.)
This has been a tough writing year for me. I finished my first novel only to learn that at this point in my writing career it's going to be a hard sell. I've struggled with short fiction, publishing only two stories this year. I've even wondered why I'm writing stories in the first place (which probably ties back with the issues I've had with the novel and short fiction).
All of this caused me to step back and reflect on my writing career up to this point. And I've realized I've made just about every mistake an author can make, career-wise.
For example:
And those are merely a sample of the mistakes I've made. The list could easily go on and on. If you had to describe how to achieve success as an author, I'd pretty much be an example of what not to do.
Of course, the flip side to this is that the path I've taken, while perhaps not the best for furthering my writing career, has given me a unique voice and approach to storytelling. My love of short fiction has enabled me to experiment with stories and develop my voice in ways novel-length fiction wouldn't have tolerated. I've also been able to both publish my stories and reach new readers thanks to some amazing editors and the support of magazines like Interzone and Asimov's.
And most importantly, every mistake has taught me something.
At a recent convention — yes, I now go to conventions — I met artist Len Peralta and purchased several of his prints. Above is one of Len's prints which really stuck with me because it so perfectly highlights that great line from the blockbuster film Guardians of the Galaxy: “There ain't no thing like me, 'cept me!”
I don't know if I'll ever achieve all I want to achieve with my fiction writing, but I do know the creative path I've traveled has resulted in a writer who produces stories no one else could create. I also know I'll never stop reaching for my writing dreams.
Career wise, I've made just about every mistake an author could make. But writing wise, I wouldn't change a thing. Because my mistakes are part of what have taken me this far and helped me become who I am as a writer.
Note: See updates at bottom of page.
This is a difficult post to write. I love the Context SF convention in Columbus, Ohio. The convention is a small, literary-focused affair and the first genre con I ever attended. I've been an author guest at the convention for many years and have met and become friends with so many wonderful people because of Context. And the most recent convention, held in September, was the best ever, in no small part due to the efforts of programming director Steven Saus.
Which makes it all the more painful to say that I can't return unless Context seriously changes how it does business.
After the most recent convention I'd heard rumors of a harassment incident. I didn't witness this harassment and didn't know the people involved (File 770 has more details if you desire). But like many convention goers and attending authors I assumed the issue would be dealt with according to the convention's Code of Conduct.
Well, yes and no.
As Steven Saus makes clear in a post where he resigns as Context's programming director, while the harassment was eventually dealt with, this was done only after Saus and others pushed for Context to follow its own rules. The people who run the convention made excuse after excuse as to why they shouldn't follow their own rules, made disparaging comments about the entire situation, and basically wanted to sweep all this under the rug. Saus and others didn't let this happen, but the whole situation was so disgusting, and he lost such faith in the process, that he resigned.
As Saus says, "I do not have faith that the harassment policy will be enforced or that reports of harassment would be treated seriously at Context in the future."
And Saus isn't the only one to resign. Long-time Context supporter and volunteer Lucy Snyder announced on Facebook that she is resigning as writing workshops director. Context has had an amazing writing workshop schedule in recent years because of Snyder's hard work and I know how much she loves the convention, so this must have been a painful decision for her. I've also heard from others that they will no longer work for FANACO, Inc., the 501(c)3 organization behind Context.
Saus and Snyder have done the right thing and now others need to do the same. Like Saus I've also signed John Scalzi's harassment pledge. In addition, my personal ethics won't allow me to attend a convention where behavior like this is tolerated.
I hope Context will change. But since many of the people who pushed so hard for Context to do the right thing appear to be no longer association with the convention, I don't have faith that the convention can change at this point.
As Saus says in his post, "This should have been simple." Yes, it should have been very simple. And until Context proves that they can handle harassment issues, my response is very simple: I won't be attending your convention.
Update: On December 1st Steven Saus wrote that over the weekend the Context Board "met and dissolved itself. The convention is starting over, with last year's Con Chairs (who were not part of the resistance I experienced) starting over. .... This change resolves the concerns that led to my resignation."
Obviously this is a very positive development. We'll see how things play out but I'm greatly encouraged by this news.
Update 2: Ignore previous update. ConText is dead. Details here.
The beautiful omnibus edition of Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy.
In my continuing roundup of the year's best stories and novels, it's time to mention the mysterious region dominating this year's fiction: Area X.
This region/wilderness/ecology/creature/entity is the star of Jeff VanderMeer's amazing Southern Reach Trilogy. If that description seems a little vague, I'm both trying to avoid spoilers and also dealing with a creation which is by design ambiguous. The trilogy lives and breathes within the opaque reaches of life, and it's this strange and unknown nature which both gives the story it's power and ensures the reader is both unsettled and fascinating by the world VanderMeer has created.
The trilogy's novels — Annihilation, Authority, & Acceptance — follow a fascinating arc. In the first book, we follow the newest expedition as they explore Area X, which appeared on the Florida panhandle decades before and ever since has devoured most people who enter its boundaries. In the second book, we witness the government's feeble attempts to contain Area X and the struggle of one man to understand what Area X might be. In the final book, the past and present-day worlds of Area X, along with the lives of those who have experienced Area X, implode into a surreal understanding of what the region/wilderness/ecology/creature/entity might actually be.
If you're not familiar with VanderMeer's writing, he's a master of description, psychological depth, and insightful, literary explorations. He's also very comfortable writing within the unknown realms of fiction, where unseen monsters bring a far deeper level of unsettling fear than anything we might truly see. When done correctly, as VanderMeer does, this level of ambiguity allows the reader to more deeply experience the truths of fiction than can be found in the concrete, black and white stories most authors create.
The Southern Reach trilogy isn't merely one of the best stories of the year — it's one of the best of the last decade.
I'd love for the entire trilogy to be named to all the award shortlists, but that's probably expecting too much. So I will be naming Annihilation to my final ballots for the Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy Awards and I urge others to do the same.
And if you haven't already read the trilogy, it's not too late. FSG Originals has just released the trilogy as a hardcover omnibus edition. This edition is beautifully designed and crafted, and is a great way to dive into the truths of Area X.
Today the Vice Motherboard launched Terraform, a hub for publishing in their words "future fiction," or science fiction.
I wish Terraform the best. Want to give more exposure to SF stories? You have my support. Want to pay 20 cents a word? From the perspective of this SF author, you have my attention.
But unfortunately for Terraform, they attracted a different type of attention today with their manifesto, which stated that "there’s a distinct dearth of science fiction in its purest, arguably its original, form — short fiction — in the environment to which it seems best-suited. The internet."
I suppose this news came as a shock to the authors, editors and readers who have been enjoying and publishing online SF stories since the dawn of the internet.
This oversight irks me on a personal level because for many years I ran the Million Writers Award, which worked hard to highlight online fiction — including online SF stories. A number of SF stories won our top award over the years and an entire anthology of MWA SF/F stories was also released. Because of my work on the award it seems incredible to me that anyone could overlook pioneering online SF magazines like Sci Fiction, Strange Horizons, Apex Magazine, Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, InterGalactic Medicine Show, among many, many others.
But perhaps the problem is I'm too much an insider to online science fiction. I play in the online SF sandpit so of course I know all the other sand-covered kids.
Asa Whitman announces as much in the Terraform comment section by stating that Terraform is doing the right thing in not acknowledging its online competition. After all, what new business mentions its competition when it opens? Whitman also adds that there's something wrong with Terraform having to recognize that the sandpit belongs to someone else before they can even play in the sand.
And if that was true, I'd be in total agreement.
But the problem isn't in Terraform having to say the sandpit belongs to someone else. The problem is that Terraform acted like the sandpit didn't even exist.
There is truth in Terraform's manifesto. They rightly point out that in our SF-obsessed world, SF stories are overlooked. This has long been an issue with the genre and if Terraform can help solve this problem, more power to them. And I don't want anyone to avoid playing in the SF sandbox because someone else thinks they own it. That should never be how literature works.
But when you ignore what came before in literature — which includes the publishing of that literature — you're not simply dismissing the work of generations of writers and fans. Which you are. No, you're also saying science fiction isn't important enough for you to study. That you don't want to know science fiction's strengths and weaknesses and loves and powers and its continuing hold on readers.
As an author, I often wish to build a new science fiction. But this wish doesn't come from a hatred or ignorance of SF — it comes from a deep love and knowledge of the genre. I know what SF is and because of that I dream deeply about the new heights it might one day achieve.
So best of luck to Terraform. I hope they reach all their SF dreams. But no one should ever pretend that any literary dream can be created by ignoring what that literature has already achieved.