Answering My Reviewers

I know you aren’t supposed to answer your reviewers, but, hey, rules are made to be broken. I have considered all of my reviews carefully, and it seems to me that it would be worthwhile to investigate some of the literary, epistomological, and political assumptions that underlie some of the things that have been said about my books over the last 31 years.

So, after much thought, here are my replies:

 

Okay, good point.

Bollix.

Thanks.

Did you even read it?

Your face is boring.

No, you’re wrong, you really liked it.

Thanks.

And you’re another.

Do you eat with that mouth?

Your mom is boring.

Thanks.

Compared to what?

Uh, maybe.

Really? That’s what you got out of that? Are you stupid?

Your mom’s face is boring.

Thanks.

Oh, yeah?

 

There, that should about cover it.

 

On Art and Politics and Silencing

Recent events have made me think about  the efforts of some to silence others within our community.  I’ve been trying to organize my thoughts.  Here’s what I’ve arrived at.

There is, within any social group, pressure to conform, at least in certain ways; that’s just the nature of the beast. If that social group is intensely political, that will include pressure to conform to the dominant political slant. In my milieu–the world of science fiction and fantasy literature–there is constant pressure to conform to identity politics and social justice activism–so much so, that I have often been silent about my own opinions, for fear of outraging or hurting friends and even family.

And you know something? So what. The pressure is there, my response is my own decision, and none of this pressure (in my case!) has been applied maliciously, or in an underhanded way, or with any sort of deliberate effort to shut me up. There is absolutely nothing wrong with people who believe in something fighting for what they believe in, and that fight will generate pressure to agree. If it doesn’t, you’re doing it wrong. I might–and do–disagree with much of what my friends, family, and loved ones support, but I in no way question their right to fight for it. So, yeah, I have sometimes chosen to remain silent; I have not been silenced.

Other people have. When death threats, bullying, doxxing, and career threats are used in an effort to either force someone to agree or to shut that person up, that is way, way out of line. At that point, you have lost the moral high ground.

I feel like I have to establish that I am not against silencing at all times under all circumstances.  For example, when the Murdoch-owned New York Daily News was spreading slanders and lies about the NYC bus drivers, the News was quite properly protected by the First Ammendment. And if the bus drivers had gone down to those offices en mass and shut that paper down, I’d have cheered.  I’m not a free speech absolutist; the interests of the working class take precedence over the rights of the bourgeoisie. (Yes, there are issues of when such actions can be turned against us; but that is a tactical question, and here I’m discussing the moral issue.)

But we are not talking, now, about a case where the vital interests of the working class are threatened by lies and distortions; we’re talking about a community built around the written word, in which our goal is–should be–the creation of moving and powerful stories. Everything the artist says, thinks, does, hears, goes into the image-constructed emotion-based cognition of life that we call “art.”   Art can no more be separated from politics than can anything else that human beings do socially. But art cannot thrive in an environment where the free exchange of ideas is suppressed.  The activity of battling against each other and the activity of working together can and should blend creatively in our effort to understand and improve both our craft and our goals–and above all, the understanding of our world that is at the heart of any story.

One would have to be incredibly naive to think that my conflicts with social justice activists do not–in complex, obscure, distorted, often contradictory ways–have an effect on the tales I tell. And that effect is a feature, not a bug. We are having conversations, both between stories and between writers, and these conversations inform the work we produce. And, obviously, this applies to criticism, whether public comments by a reviewer, or private remarks by a colleague, because just as art strives to reveal what is hidden in the world, criticism strives to reveal what is hidden in a work of art.  It’s all part of the exchange.  Any attempt to control or suppress this exchange by bullying, by intimidation, by shaming, by threats, hurts us all.

 

Not Required Reading

In my last blog post, I referred to this thing that is going on. In the comments, there is discussion of creating a list of authors whose books were unfairly trashed.

L. Raymond, frequent commenter on this blog, has put together a list–probably not exhaustive, but substantial. I would like to suggest that, if you’re looking for something to read–and even better, to review–you consider the books on this list. Because the books were unfairly trashed by a toxic troll does not mean they’re good; but it doesn’t mean they’re bad, either.  I think fair, even-handed reviews are just what is called for.

Note: These are all Amazon links; obviously, if you feel about Amazon the way I do, feel free to pick them up elsewhere, otherwise don’t worry about it.

Here is the list L. Raymond put together.  You are welcome to add to it in comments.

Brown, Rachel Manija
Andreadis, Athena
Bacigalupi, Paolo
Bakker, R. Scott
Bishop, Anne
Gaither, Chelsea
Goldberg, Melissa
Harris, Charlaine
Jemisin, NK
Kowal, Mary Robinette
Kress, Adrienne
Loenen-Ruiz, Rochita
Lord, Karen
McCalmont, Jonathan
Paget, Colum
Pon, Cindy
Rothfuss, Patrick
Sperring, Kari
Sullivan, Tricia
Williams, Liz

Only a Link, But One That Matters

I’m putting this here just to make sure that anyone who checks my blog but not twitter or facebook can find it. If you want. It is a major piece of ugliness that has been going on within the SFF community for many years, and which Laura Mixon tracked down and gathered evidence on.  It may not matter to you, which is fine. But it matters to me, because this has an effect on a community that I’m part of, and also has an effect on what stories I get to read.  If you have a weak stomach for abuse, you might want to skip it.

Here is the link.  The discussion is happening there, so there’s probably not much point in saying anything here.  Still, feel free if you wish.

 

 

The Language Police: That’d Be Me

Last night on Twitter I objected to a NASA announcer saying “…any data that is…” rather than “…any data that are.”  Why did I object? Well, to be honest, because I was really upset about Antares blowing up, and I was looking for someone I could be mad at. Yeah, I know, not very rational; but sometimes I’m just not.

A friend then replied with the following: ‘But, to summarize, do you also insist on “The agenda are…”? If so, good for you, but the language, per the OED, has moved on.’

The OED certainly is a good source, and I agree with them about agenda.  But I still prefer “data” as a plural and “datum” as the singular.  But, more important, I am heartily sick of, “the language has moved on.” According to whom?  Who gets to decide?

The answer is: I do, because I’m arguing about it, and stating my preference.  If you argue about it, and state your preference, then you get to decide too.  “The language has moved on” is meaningless rubbish.  If it has moved on to the point where no one is arguing about it, then it need never come up.  If there are people arguing about it, then it may be in the process of moving on, but it hasn’t gotten there yet.  How do I know? Because people are still arguing.

The arguing, you see, is the whole point.

There was a time when “awful” meant “filled one with a sense of awe.” It doesn’t mean that any more.  How do we know that? Because no one is using it that way, and no one is arguing for it.  In this case, the language has moved on; the proof is that in this case we never hear anyone insisting “the language has moved on.”

Now, perhaps, what you’re saying is, “usage is determined by majority rule, and the majority now does it this way.” If that’s what you’re saying, well, let’s say I disagree.  But if so, say so.

In the particular case in question, “data” vs “datum” as the singular, I don’t know that I can find a strong reason for my preference other than being used to it; so if you can find a good reason for your preference, you’re liable to win that argument, and then I’ll stop making irritated tweets correcting anonymous commentators.  But make it!  Tell me why that usage is better.  I’m here.  I’m listening.  What, it isn’t better?  It has no advantages, and you only claim the language has moved on because lots and lots of people say it? That doesn’t convince me this change makes the language more flexible, more powerful, more elegant, more nuanced, better able to express fine distinctions.

Examples: I dislike the current use of “hopefully”  because I think the distinction between “I hope,” “you should hope,” and “all right-thinking people ought to hope,” is useful and I don’t like to see it concealed.  I dislike the word “proactive” because it sounds as if it is conveying information when in fact it says nothing*.  Those two battles are mostly over, but I haven’t given up yet.  If you want to argue with me, you are free to do so.  If your argument is, “the language has moved on” do not expect to convince me.

Obviously, you have as much right to your preference as I have for mine.  Moreover, you have as much right to make a case for or against a given change as I do.  But if I insist a usage is wrong, and you don’t agree, then, make the case.  “The language has moved on” is never a valid argument, because it contains its own contradiction: as I said above, if it had moved on, we wouldn’t be talking about it.  Hell, I’ll even tell you how to make the case.  Instead of a strident, smug, empty, “the language has moved on,” try saying this: “Most people have accepted that “data” is a singular noun.  The language seems to be changing.  Can you make a case for keeping it the old way?”  There, see, now you’ve put the burden of proof on me.  That’s fair.

Who gets to decide what is correct usage? Anyone and everyone who bothers to have an opinion about it.

Now, it is perfectly reasonable to shrug and say to yourself, “Let the silly dinosaur keep raging; in twenty years everyone who insists that ‘data’ is a plural will be dead, and the language will have moved on.”  If you say that, you’ll almost certainly be right.  But if that’s your attitude, why are you telling me?  Do you expect to convince me that, just because a lot of people use “infer” and “imply” interchangeably, I should adapt myself to it?  If you want to convince me, convince me.  If you want to roll your eyes and let me fight my doomed battle, do that.  But “the language has moved on” is useless as an argument, and empty as an observation.  Argue, or shut up.

 

*For those of who believe “proactive” does convey something, I challenge you to find a real-world situation in which it suggests an action that isn’t better said by simply dropping it and moving on to the next sentence or clause.