Umm... · yeah.

This week, Beneath Ceaseless Skies podcast "Bearslayer and the Black Night" by Tom Crosshill. I listened to it on the way to work. Because of the story's structure and the way it uses scene breaks, it made more sense when I read it afterwards. (Also, colonists were marching to the drum on the side of the road. For that stretch of the morning commute, I was more concerned about the traffic disruption. I'd have expect them to march on Patriot's Day, not several days after. However, even having lived here over a decade now, I'm still not up on the local ways.)

I have decidedly mixed feelings about this story. At the end of the day, it's probably no fault of the story and more a fault of the context the story finds itself.

On one hand, it's exceptionally well written. The voice of the story is dead on for what it wants to accomplish. I love the cross-cutting between how legend records the main characters and what actually happened. The story uses lots of specific, vivid details to build the world and reinforce the bind the characters find themselves in. That he gets across so much in so few words is masterful. (And the story is precisely the right length.)

On the other hand, I've pretty much read my fill of stories where gay lovers die. No, strictly speaking, they are not killed because they are lovers. They are killed because they are the champions of their respective tribes but refuse to fight each other. Do I really need to interrogate why they refuse to fight each other though?

(No, that they are lovers is not the only reason, but it's hard to argue that it is not a reason. I mean they kiss "And it burned those who watched. Cries of outrage rent the air like sharpened spears. Snarls of hatred boomed forth like blasts of gunpowder. Latts and Greni both grasped for blades that had never seen blood until this day. The ground shook as they charged their champions." No, I'm not saying that one shouldn't depict homophobia in stories. I'm saying it's tiring that the outcome is always that the gay characters die. There are lots of possible stories. Why do we always tell this one?)

Do I need to point out that, of course, that legend erases their love for each other? (Not saying that this is implausible. Just saying I've seen this a lot. Can I please see something else now?)

Of course, it's not that there are no stories where straight lovers die. However, there are also lots of stories where straight lovers live. When they do die, they are rarely killed because they are straight. I suppose it's possible to tell this story exactly as is except that one of the lovers is female. In practice, you rarely see it though. In other words, I shout "feh!" at your false equivalence.

I've hit the point where I really don't care how plausible or how justified the killing is. It'd just be nice to read stories where gay characters who face death survive. Why go for the cliched ending?

If there were lots and lots of stories that do not present death as the predestined fate of gay characters, the ending of this story wouldn't bug me as much. However, gay characters don't get very much representation in this sort of fiction. It's disheartening then that when I do find a genre story with gay characters, it falls victim to this trope (with no visible attempt to deconstruct or subvert it).

Again, I'm not saying anyone should or shouldn't do anything. I'm just saying that I've read this story before and I'd like for there to be something else to read. (It's not as simple as "I'd like to read something else." Someone has to write it, people have to want it, then someone has to publish it.)

I don't think Ties of Silver was an unqualified success. If nothing else, it was really educational.

For me, part of the problem might have been the pace and timbre of the reading. I understand why the growly voice and the measured, deliberate reading. I found it difficult to listen to on my car speakers though. (It was easier when I switched to headphones after I'd finished my commute.) The pace didn't draw me in, especially since the first half hour or so is structured exactly as I'd expected the story to be. (I should point out that the reading is actually quite good, just not for me. I think I'd have enjoyed the story more had I read it. However, I might have skimmed until the good part.)

The story, however, does hit the heights of awesome in its back half. Those who find the first half compelling enough to stick with it will be amply rewarded. This makes me think that it's never too late to hit the heights of awesome... as long as you can pull the readers with you until then.

In any case, lots of gritty, well-defined atmosphere. The story is mostly by the numbers but exceptionally well done. If I had to quibble, romanticization of the ghetto generally sits with me the wrong way and this story isn't an exception. Given a choice of whether to be ghettoized or not, there's a real cost to voluntary ghettoization. The story recognizes this by listing the benefits of not being ghettoized, but that feels dry and abstract.

The story ends pretty much the way it had to end for everything to pay off. I just wish it hadn't stacked the deck.

It started off as a quick reply to krylyr's post Bullshit and Blasephemy, so go read that first if you need context. However, my reply got longer than I expected, so I'm posting it here:

"The Parable of the Shower" was awesome. Based on the title and the first few sentences, my immediate thought was, "There's no way she can pull this off," but she does. Not only does she maintain the language but she also keeps it funny throughout the story. She explores the implications of that opening situation without ever flinching or shying away. The issues she confronts turns what might otherwise have been a style exercise into a moving story that's also really funny.

As for Card, well, now I know not to read "Hamlet's Father."(Rain Taxi's review) He has a right to express, by now, his really well known views. I have a right to express mine. That he wrote a story with a cardboard gay villain is still shocking but it's not surprising. What surprised me was his "this is fault of all of those calling me out on my homophobia" response. I get sad when people start calling out bingo card spaces.

About what happened to Sherwood Smith and Rachel Manija Brown, I have absolutely no doubt that by the time I manage any sort of success in the field, either de-gaying or whitewashing will have happened to me too. I've already decided that whoever says that is an editor, publisher, or agent I didn't want to work with anyway. (Yes, I totally get that editors, publishers and agents can make these sorts of decisions without personally being racists or homophobes themselves.)

Actually, something like it may have already happened to me at least once. My same sex marriage allegory once got a personal rejection that ended with something like "We really enjoyed this, but it's too controversial for our magazine." It's a story about a town fighting off the monsters that carry winter. *sigh* And a completely insignificant example: One of the first crits I received from Critters was from someone who did the "I'm not a homophobe, but..." thing and de-gayed my story. (It's amazing how much damage bad copyediting can wreak.) I've received a lot of useless crits from Critters but that was the most useless.

On the plus side, we now have agents rushing to blog and update their web pages to make clear that they absolutely welcome a diversity of characters in fiction. Public disapproval of de-gaying is always a good sign.

(ETA: originally I'd written "same sex marriage parable," but I meant "same sex marriage allegory." I've replaced the word above.)

I must be the only person in the world immune to the charms of The Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu. The podcasters at Galactic Suburbia loved it, for example. He's written a bunch of stories I love and deserves every bit of success coming to him and then some. This story, though, doesn't do it for me.

Lots of people find the story heart-breaking. I do too, but I feel manipulated. Yes, all stories manipulate but they also effect the illusion of portraying things just as they happened. The illusion didn't work for me here.

It starts off wonderfully. The main character and the relationship with his mother is spot on, especially once he goes to school and the rest of society intrudes on the world they'd created. I really enjoyed that section. How the main character turns on his mother is devastating. From there though, the story stretches out in time and loses me bit by bit. For me, the mother ceases to be a character and becomes a prop calculated to invoke pathos. A real missed opportunity.

I have to confess: I didn't listen to the entire podcast, although I read the story in F&SF. (Actually, I read it several times hoping that I'd change my mind and start liking it from beginning to end.) I stopped listening to the podcast at the tone-deaf rendition of the Mandarin dialogue. Sorry, folks. This is a pet peeve of mine. It's probably derived from memories of people making incoherent noises and calling it "Chinese."

Obviously, Podcastle didn't do anything like that. Still, why is it ok to mispronounce some words, but not others? (Yes, the mispronunciations are not intentional. They just didn't think about it. That's my point.)

Anyway, I wanted to like the story much more than I actually did. Most people, I suspect, will like the story more than me. So absolutely go listen to it and have a great time.

Last Sunday:

I'm at the supermarket. They don't leave much space between the steam tables and I'm blocking this guy. I step out of the way and apologize. He respond with, "Hey, I know you! I see you all the time at [Gym I Work Out At]."

I suppose this could have led to a friendly conversation. What I actually did was say, "Ok" and go to the other side of the supermarket. In my defense, I was heading there anyway.

In retrospect, I wonder if he'd tagged me as "the bald headed Chinese guy." I hope not. It'd be pretty awful if he told every bald headed Chinese guy that he saw him all the time at that gym.

Yesterday:

I get a phone call from a Nice Man who identifies himself as calling from a local Prestigious Opera Company. As it turns out, it's a good thing he does this. After we exchange ritual greetings, he asked me how I enjoyed A Midsummer Night's Dream, the Prestigious Opera Company's most recent production. If he hadn't identified himself, the conversation would have felt seriously stalker-y.

Anyway, instead of "do I have a stalker?" what goes through my mind is "why is he calling me out of the blue and engaging me in friendly, if pointless, conversation?" Maybe someone asking me for my opinion in a warm, friendly voice freaks me out. I have no idea. For whatever reason, my immediate reaction is to say, "Umm.. I'm not ready to donate to [Prestigious Opera Company] right now. Thank you and have a nice day." [This, BTW, is not a lie. I would seriously consider donating to them someday, but jeez, I've only ever attended the one production. Give me a little time to build up loyalty first.]

Just before I hit the disconnect button on my cellphone, I hear, "Whoa! You've cut straight to the chase!" At least I was right.

Today:

I'm working from home. Someone knocks at my door. Dread fills me. Last time I worked from home, it was a man trying to convert me to his religion. This time, it's a woman. She's not holding any religious materials. She's not holding anything at all. This worries me more than if I saw, say, a Bible or a clipboard with notes about some political cause. We exchange ritual greetings. She asks me how I am. Of course, I say I'm fine and I reciprocate by asking her how she is. She responds, "Good, but I'd feel even better if you'd adopt me and take me out for some liquid sunshine." WTF? [Note: I totally reserve the right to use that line as dialogue in some story I write.]

I blurt, "That's too freaky for me. Have a good day" then close the door. (Yes, I apparently wish people a good day even when I'm blurting whatever is on the top of my mind. That occurred to me right after I shut the door.) She leaves, or at least I assume she's left. It's been a few hours and I've been busy working.

I do wish I'd held it together a little better so that I could find out why she said that. People don't go door-to-door propositioning other people, do they? (That would be an extremely sad way of trying to get a date.)