QUILTBAG

Project Fierce: Preorder

I combed through my recent entries and realized I’ve neglected to unveil Project Fierce here on the blog.

Project Fierce Chicago is up for pre-order here and you can enjoy 15% off on this beautifully large, richly diverse volume through the afternoon of July 15th.

My story, Castle on a Cloud, was inspired by The Little Matchstick Girl but of course I had to go and give it a happy-ending twist … and a bit of a steampunk makeover along with a few other surprises.

The project benefits LGBTQ homeless youth in Chicago, so you’re not only investing in some quality fiction by a number of talented authors, but the entire proceeds go straight to charity. I finished proofing my galley copy this morning (for my story, I wouldn’t be so hubristic as to go through the whole thing) and you all are in for a treat!

More posts to come, so check back tomorrow and Saturday for news and a chance to win a shiny prize.

WIP Wednesday and Thursday giveaway

First and foremost! Less Than Three Press is still running their fabulous FREE BOOKS giveaway tomorrow, so keep an eye on their Tumblr or @LT3Press at the top of each hour.

At some point tomorrow, Signal to Noise will be up for free for a whole hour – so if you haven’t yet nabbed a copy, here comes your chance! It’s a good time to brush up, because its sequel Klaxon at the Core makes the drop in June!

Today’s WIP Wednesday is a teaser for my most recently accepted story, “Castle on a Cloud,” which will be a part of the Project Fierce charity anthology.

Jant Keed came to the cloudborne city of Skyrill to live out the opportunities that he and his brother Brannant could only dream of from afar. Instead, he finds himself on the street scraping by for each brass bit to make it from one day to the next. As he seeks shelter from the cold, he finds himself trading the tinders he could sell for visions that lure him to a turning point. The choice Jant makes could mean a bright future, or the end of one.

Jant Keed braced himself against the cold slap of wind that rolled in from the far side of the park’s expanse of manicured lawn. He tried to warm his chilled fingers with scant breath and wondered if there was a chance in the Frozen Hells he’d sell enough tinder to rent a cot to stay alive one night longer. The odds for a sale were increasingly small in the affluent upper terrace he’d spent his last brass bit to reach but the locale hadn’t been his choice. Skyrill was packed from lowton to royal tier for Midwinter’s Festival of Turning.

The Festival of Turning was such a pivotal celebration to the Four Aspects faith that Jant wasn’t surprised the cloudborne city of Skyrill was filled to capacity. Even guttersnipes had been evicted from trash bins by those higher on the street pecking order. Tradesmen were crammed in like canned fish in the gear district, grinders and beggars were pushed out of their usual pockets to fend for themselves, and even the tiniest tots had been displaced to seek a mercy shelter or run barefoot until they found a night’s charity. Jant himself had been elbowed out of the plot where he usually sold his pitch—a poor enough place between an alley and a trash heap—by a pair of older air whips with tousled dirty hair and sneers that promised violence.

On a clear, fair weather day the upper terraces like Proudmarch weren’t such a bad place to be. He’d even come more than once to admire the houses as much as to attempt his pitch. Jant shivered as another cold gust cut across his back. He attempted to curl himself into a tighter, more compact ball with his arms looped around his knees and gazed out over the empty walks that criss-crossed the front of the park. The sight summoned fresh misery that made his stoic expression crumble but he could only allow a brief, pained grimace before wiping it clean. He’d taken the steamcar to Proudmarch because he’d figured he wouldn’t have to fight for shill space, but there would be foot traffic enough to keep him in coin for one night more.

Showed how much Jant knew.

Proudmarch was deserted, and likely the other upper terraces as well. Jant had seen exactly two souls since his boots had left the steamcar and both of those had been servant class, proud enough in their finery but pressed for time or money. They didn’t need Jant’s tinder. All the fine houses were closed up tight, none in need of the heat or light Jant could provide with the self-contained globes of fire he could summon up to his palm and sell.

Fire was auspicious and in need in a place like Skyrill that had its share of a plentiful three—air, earth, and water—but was touched by fire only at dawn and dusk. Jant’s Aspect was fire and he thought he’d do well enough on the streets of Skyrill for all that, but he’d learned fast that his command of his Aspect was so slight as to be considered laughable. He could conjure tinder and make flames dance but not much more.

His eyes pricked and he steeled his face to hardness again, lifting a hand to summon up a bit of tinder. Fire burst into red-gold glory for an instant before Jant pulled on the flame with the ease of long practice, twisting it round itself. The surface formed a glassine orb, warm to the touch and etched in the flickering colors of the flame he’d summoned. He cradled the tinder in his hand and bit his lip against a sigh. He could cast it at his feet to release the flame again and it would warm him for a little while. Without a sale, though, it wouldn’t do anything for him; not fill his belly, nor find him shelter for the night. Each tinder used up a bit of his spirit and without the replenishment of food or sleep he’d be done for. Jant had seen his share of wide-eyed corpses over the past few days, left out overnight without any other option. He didn’t want to be one of them.

He straightened and hugged his knees as a tall man strode past with purposeful strides, his back toward Jant as he passed by the park. Jant half-stretched a hand and croaked, but by the time he’d cleared his throat Fehrad was gone.

Why wouldn’t he be? Jant’s doleful thought followed. Fehrad Bezuyt was a kind man, to be sure, having stopped a fair number of times on the street to buy tinder from Jant and share a few words of encouragement or advice. He was also too important to be dallying with the likes of Jant. A butler of House LeVries could have scraped Jant or his peers from the soles of his boots. It still caught Jant by surprise to be addressed by Fehrad on occasion.

If Fehrad was headed for Clairewater, the LeVries’ estate, at such a clip then he had business and no time for dallying. Jant balanced the tinder he’d conjured between his knees and stared with longing at the place where Fehrad’s wool-garbed broad shoulders had disappeared.

Jant had never seen a Kemet, one of the dark-skinned races to the far southeast, before coming to Skyrill. Fehrad had been the first and remained the most handsome to Jant’s eyes. He had a lean, sharp face with a pointed nose and thin lips that parted to reveal a brilliant smile with ready ease. He cut a stunning figure in his wool suits and waistcoats, or light linen when the weather permitted. Even in milder seasons the winds that buffeted Skyrill could be fierce. It was his hands that had truly snared Jant’s attention, though, being sturdy and calloused in a way that denoted he was no stranger to laborious work but well-shaped as fine sculpture for all that.

If he could have garnered Fehrad’s attention for a moment, he might have kindly purchased the tinder—at twice Jant’s asking price, as usual—but offered no further solace than for him to move along. There was no place in lowton, though, and Jant’s shiver wasn’t inspired by the wind when he considered the places he’d already been pushed out that day.

The cold was fierce enough, and the terrace empty enough, that Jant had considered breaking a window and crawling into one of the fine homes to hide for the night. At least the afternoon. Mayhem & Mischief’s patented alarm system would send up a clamor right quick, though, rousting the constables from their comfortable seats in the gastropub by the steam-rail station. They would find him with no great effort and the lockup would await him.

Jant’s thoughts traveled involuntarily to the sight of the great gray slate of the lockup, a terrace set apart from Skyrill’s storied propulsion-suspended levels. The dread that choked him was born of more than the prospect of being jailed. If he were to go there … they would find out. People would discover what he was. And a swift death would be the kindest thing that could await him.

His own parents had turned him out after his older brother Brannant had died—and why wouldn’t they? A boy spirit born into a girl’s body was evil, unlucky, impure. Jant’s spirit was tainted and it had been no great surprise to discover his Aspect was so limited. It had probably been stunted by the twisting of his own spirit from what had been intended in the body where he’d taken root.

He breathed on his chapped hands and turned his thoughts forcibly from the miserable realities that had brought him there. He had to focus on what came next.

Instead of breaking in someplace, Jant would keep watch in the park, alert for some stray worker who wasn’t at a worship center. He’d hide as the constables made their final rounds before turning in for the night to take their ease at the gastropub while they watched the main worship rites on the transmit-tube. At that point he could wedge himself under a bench and hope for the best. It wouldn’t be warm, but he’d make as compact a shape of himself as he could. Theft had never much occurred to him even when he was scraping cobblestones for a bit of brass, but right then Jant would have eagerly taken a blanket from a line if anyone had been amiss to leave it there.

Jant looked down at his hands with numb concern as he realized he could scarcely feel them. He chafed his fingers together, blew on them again, and bitterly considered the impact of each exhalation as his spirit left with it.

He would freeze or his last breath would leave him before the constables made their next round.

Queer Romance Blog Hop: Diversity & Inclusion Version

Welcome to the Queer Romance Blog Hop, where queer writers and readers of queer romance share their thoughts on the genre, as well as a few recommendations for books to read! Everyone participating in this blog hop identifies as queer and also reads and/or writes (or edits, or reviews!) queer romance. For our purposes, queer romance refers to books with:

1. LGBTQ+ main characters
2. In romantic relationships
3. That have a happy ending. (No Brokeback Mountain here, folks!)

I’m Talya, and I’ve been publishing queer fiction through Less Than Three Press for a little over a year now and writing it for much, much longer. I’ve been reading queer fiction since around 1997/1998 back when fiction selection was slim pickings: one shelf, and we were lucky if the bookstore carried even that much. Interestingly enough, that one shelf always seemed to be across, or around the corner from, the Christian non-fiction. I used to work at a Big&Name bookstore and I would trawl the general fiction section while shelving … sometimes you could find gay fiction that way, but it was like searching for Easter eggs. Not only was it difficult, but often you’d find something that was not really to your taste.

It’s been amazing to see how things have really grown and changed over the past decade plus, but at the same time, it seems like there’s still a lot of room for expansion.

1. Let’s start off with the getting-to-know-you stuff: How do you identify and what does that mean to you? Whatever level of detail you’re comfortable with, of course!

I am a bisexual woman, and I’ve been partnered for over ten years with another woman. To a lot of people this would mean I’m a lesbian, as though my sexual preference is tied to the person I’m with rather than who I am. Being with a woman for this long doesn’t make me a lesbian; it makes me monogamous. I think (and research supports) that a lot of bisexuals don’t self-identify because we’re not really well accepted by either straight or queer communities, so we tend to hide who we are in order to make other people more comfortable. It’s easier for someone with a female partner to simply say they’re a lesbian because that’s what most people understand. But I am, and always have been, attracted to people of both male and female genders.

Bisexuality was something that was difficult, at first, for me to come to terms with because there was virtually no representation when I was growing up. You were either straight (the default) or gay (deviant), and I didn’t identify with either. In fact, I fought being associated with the queer community at first because I was attracted to the opposite gender, so that meant I “had” to be straight. It was only once I got deeper into researching sexuality and gender that I started to realize, and admit to myself, that not only was bisexuality an option—it’s been a part of me from a very young age. I simply never had the cultural background to recognize it.

2. What’s your preferred “flavour” of queer romance (e.g. trans*, f/f, m/m, menage with queer characters, etc.) Why?

I don’t have a strong preference for any unless being “in the mood” for one or the other would be expressing a preference at the time. I’ve read and enjoyed all varieties, from trans* fiction, to f/f and m/m, poly in various configurations, and I’d love to read and write a great deal more permutations including and beyond those mentioned above. I enjoy the full spectrum of “queerness,” if you will, and I absolutely delight in finding and reading more than the standard fare. Diversity in fiction is a hugely important issue to me, and it’s reflected in my purchasing habits.

3. Do you write/read/review? Do you think being queer affects your participation or platform in romancelandia?

I write, and I think it’s absolutely affected my participation in romancelandia. For one, I don’t see an overwhelming amount of bisexual or pansexual characters represented. Because that’s a component of my own identity, that’s something that has been reflected in my own writing. Several of my published works include bisexual characters. In one work, the world-building assumes that bisexuality is the default with acceptable preferences to either same or opposite gender. I’ve also tended to include characters that, in my opinion, go against what is generally touted in romancelandia to be the typical gay male main character.

4. What drew you to queer romance?

This seems like a simple question that has a very involved, complicated answer for me! I can’t really boil it down to any one factor. I think at first I had an intense fascination with queer fiction because it was like an entirely new realm of romance opening up to me, and it was something kind of taboo and compelling and embattled. A lot of queer people both exist outside the norm and feel like they are pushed outside it, and I identified with that very strongly and was drawn to it. I was drawn to it for prurient as well as non-prurient reasons. There was a lot of raw sexuality and boundary-pushing in queer fiction, as well as character dynamics, that didn’t exist in the hetero romances I’d read. There was also tragedy—a lot of gay fiction didn’t get happy endings back when I first started reading it, and I wanted happy outcomes for a lot of fictional characters I came to care deeply for. I’m pleased to say the happy ending has come within our grasp and become more plausible, at least. And the happy ending (not to mention the sweet, sweet sexual payoff) is why I favor romance over fiction in general.

5. What do you love about queer romance in general, and/or your specific subgenre?

I love that anything is possible. The sky really is the limit as far as the kinds of characters I write and what kind of people they become, who they love and how they choose to express themselves. There’s always something fresh and new and interesting to write, and new and compelling stories to tell.

6. What’s your pet peeve?

That’s a loaded question. I’m going to assume this is intended to mean what’s my pet peeve about queerness in romancelandia. I would have to say my biggest pet peeve is placing limits on queerness, as though your characters have to meet some marketability checklist before they’re allowed to go forward. Diversity and inclusion is an extremely important issue for me, and I feel like we see a lot of cis* white stereotypically masculine men in queer fiction when the queer community contains a whole lot more than that. I want to see more people from all walks of life.

Conventional wisdom says write what you know; I say the hell with that. Write what’s out there in the world, and if it’s not your personal experience, ask, do research, talk to people, find out more and give an accurate representation of others’ experiences. I want to see and read about more people of color, people with disabilities, people from other countries, people of different sizes and attractiveness indexes, and absolutely more queer people from across the entire spectrum. It’s not only lesbian fiction that is under-represented: it’s genderqueer people, pansexuals, bisexuals, trans* people, and asexuals. Asexuals can be involved in romance too, people!

Basically my pet peeve is lack of representation for more than just a single, narrow slice of what being queer is all about.

(*Cis = people who identify with the gender that corresponds with the sex they present at birth.)

7. What growth would you like to see in the genre, going forward? Any ideas on how to accomplish that?

Absolutely more representation. I think there’s so much room to grow in every direction. We need to start writing for it, but I think publishers need to be encouraged to ask for it as well, maybe by broadening their submission standards, but also with targeted submission calls.

8. Do you seek out other queer authors when you read?

I’m really wide open with my reading preferences. If the author is telling a good story with compelling characters, then I’m there. What I’ve noticed, though, is if I find out that a particular author is queer, I definitely tend to gravitate more toward their work to check it out if I haven’t already, or to continue to support and read it if I already enjoy them. I was so excited to discover Fiona Patton was married to Tanya Huff! I’d really enjoyed her Branion books and that was just icing on the cake for me.

9. How do you feel, in general, about straight peoples’ participation in reading, writing, and reviewing queer romance?

I think it’s great. I’m all for making our experiences more accessible and relatable to straight people. It’s easier for people to become allies if they have something to latch onto and understand. And fiction—telling our stories and sharing how we love—really brings people together in a way like nothing else besides food, in my opinion.

I would never tell people not to read, write, or review queer romance. I might, however, caution people who aren’t queer to keep an open mind about our genre—it’s not always going to be something from their own experience, and they ought to be prepared to be accepting of “otherness.” If a straight person says “that’s not what gay people are like,” or “that’s not what lesbian women are like,” or “there’s no such thing as genderqueer people,” you’re potentially negating other peoples’ lived experiences, and that’s going over the line from participation into imposing and regulating queerness. And that has harmful consequences on both sides.

10. Rec us 3 titles in your chosen subgenre and tell us why you love them.

This is a tough one. Limiting it to only three is really, really hard.

I don’t have a “chosen genre” smaller than queer fiction in general, so I’m going to pick three titles in that wider genre and say why they made the short list.

“Comfort and Joy,” by Jim Grimsley – I come back to this again and again because it says a lot of things about gay relationships that still hold true today, and there’s a clash of privilege, both in terms of class (rich/poor, differing job levels), and ability/disability. It addresses HIV and shows the ways in which people sometimes really have to work at relationships when they may not even be sure that they want to. All this is interwoven into a holiday tale that shows the differences between the two main characters’ very different families, the ways they are welcome and not welcome in both, and how a tentative accord is reached at the end. I also love Jim’s prose. He simply has not written a book I’ve loved as much as this one ever since.

Liquor by Poppy Z. Brite – the author now identifies as trans* and goes by Billy Martin, which I recently discovered when looking for information on whether the author would ever continue the Liquor series. Liquor and its sequels were the first domino that tipped me into a full-blown passion for foodie culture. Poppy’s queer characters were always outstanding in a landscape of literature that had formerly tipped the hat but not really “gone there.” Rickey and G-man were very real to me, and though the novels became progressively darker, they presented a lot of real issues that gay people face in the macho world of the kitchen as well as outside of it and came across in an overall hopeful, functional, lasting way.

Zi Yong and the Collector of Secrets, by E. E. Ottoman. This is the first story of E.E.’s that I’d read that really made me sit up and take notice of their writing. This is a historical, wuxia-style tale that culminates in a relationship between two women, and it was really well done, restrained and artful, and I just loved it. Between enjoying this story so much and beta-reading another ladylove story of theirs that was just fantastic, I started reading other stories of E.E.’s and the topics this author tackles, as well as the broad range of character representation, have ensured I’ll keep following E.E. for as long as they write.

That sums it up for me. If you’ve made it this far, I salute you and hope this post has given you a few things to think about.

Thanks for reading and for following the tour! Be sure to use the links below to check out more great posts from our participants!

Effeminophobia: Why It Hurts

Yesterday I had the best of intentions to write up a post, but I’ll admit it—I flat-out forgot. Mondays are tough, not only for the start of the work-week, but my particular Mondays don’t see me comfortably settled on the loveseat, post-dinner, until around seven-thirty or so. That’s when I begin to catch up from a long day. The evening seems to whiz past from that point, going through posts and emails, checking in with various peeps, until it’s getting late and, being on the West coast, I’m very much aware that many people are already in bed. So even when it’s early evening for me, my Monday posts are still pretty much night blogging.

Besides, I hear a lot of awesome people were at GRL, so it’s polite to allow a day’s margin post con-hangover. Well, it’s not quite a con, but same effect.

This week’s topic is effeminophobia. There are several things that have led me to this topic, but the primary driver is this: hate and fear have no place in my world. They’re destructive forces. They’re the opposite of everything I believe in, and so far as romance and writing are concerned, they may be in the writer’s toolbox of tricks, but as things to be overcome, something to triumph over, not a status quo to be upheld.

What is effeminophobia?

We’re at the first-ever Gay Romance Northwest, and during the panel on Diversity in Fiction, author Rick Reed looks out at the audience, the vast majority of whom are women (authors and readers), and asks the question: “Why aren’t there more effeminate men in gay fiction?”

For about a second, you could hear a pin drop. But then the tides unleash.

An author is the first to speak up. “We’re told that it’s a stereotype, and we’re not supposed to use stereotypes in our fiction.”

“My editor tells me to take out [effeminate men],” another says. “They edit out behaviors, gestures that can be seen as womanly.”

“We don’t want to see men acting like women. We want to see men with men.”

“I’ve had characters like that, but my editor advises me to take them out.”

Another author relates how she was lambasted for having a character who displayed feminine traits while I’m thinking whether to contribute my own anecdote of being accused by one reviewer of writing Bastian as “a woman in a boy’s body” all because he had the audacity to wear nail polish and eyeliner and display his emotions openly—as well as being an enthusiastic bottom.

“Effeminophobia.” Someone finally voices an underlying cause, the answer to Rick’s question.

“Misogyny,” someone else says. Now we’ve hit on the real reason. There’s an uneasy current in the room. We’re women, writing about men who aren’t supposed to act like women. Because that’s bad. But is it really bad, or have we been conditioned to think it’s bad because there’s a larger force in play?

Effeminophobia is fear of the feminine, or womanliness, and the behaviors, gestures, presentation, and identifying traits that are associated with the female gender. It’s far more pervasive than most realize, and it starts young. And it is not limited to men displaying and reinforcing this phobia, as you might think.

“You shouldn’t play with dolls, you should play with trucks.”

“Those are girl toys! You don’t want to play with little girl’s toys, do you?”

“Don’t give the kid an EZ-Bake oven for his birthday. Do you want him to be a sissy? A BB gun, now that’s a good gift for a boy…”

The Barbie and little pony aisle and the Transformers and action figures beside it. Don’t hit like a girl. Blue is for boys, and pink is for girls. What are you, a pussy? Put some muscle into it—are you a man or are you a princess? Take up a sport, we’ll make a man out of you. No, you can’t wear nail polish, that’s only for girls. The boy with pink shoes whose mother was slammed and vilified on Facebook for being such an unfit parent as to let him wear what he wanted. Another little boy who was assaulted by a stranger in the store because his mother let him wear a bow in his hair. You shouldn’t sign up for ballet, only gays and girls are ballet dancers. Why are you crying, stop being such a girl! Boys wear boy costumes, girls wear girl costumes. You’ve got to do better than that if you don’t want all your friends to think you’re a little bitch, son. You can’t take that job, it’s women’s work. Look, girls can wear suits, but if you’re a guy, wearing a skirt is cross-dressing. Let’s all prank that kid because he screams like a girl!

It goes on…

There are two things all of the above list has in common: implying that everything feminine is unmanly; and planting the seed that anything associated with women or girls is bad and undesirable.

Why is effeminophobia bad for us?

These cultural attitudes are so ingrained and pervasive that they’re often invisible to us, both men and women. They’re accepted as things being the way they are, especially by the older generation for whom gender is a clean division, men versus women. This sets up the false paradigm that men can only dress, behave, present, and talk like men, in a masculine fashion, or they are less than men, other, queer, feminine, bad. This is harmful to all men, gay, straight, bisexual, and trans*, because it sets up the expectation that any and all of these men can only comport themselves a certain way. Anything else, and they’re not considered men. Heaven forbid a man wears makeup and seeks out female partners. Lightning strike the man who makes limp-wristed gestures because he’ll get blasted as a sissy and a gay stereotype in the same breath. And men who overtly display feminine characteristics are subjected to violence, or the threat of violence, on a regular basis. You don’t have to be queer to be gay-bashed, after all.

This is also harmful to women across the same spectrum: lesbian, straight, bisexual, trans*, all of us. Conversely, women who display masculine traits are vilified as bitches, uppity, trying too hard, “thinking they’re the man,” having penis envy. Women who dress or act masculine, especially “butch lesbians,” are subjected to violence and the threat or perpetration of rape on a regular, widespread basis. Women who dress in a manner deemed too revealing, or “slutty,” also run the same risk. Women are told to stick to the kitchen in the same breath they’re told we live in a post-feminist world.
Women have the vote! Women rule the world. As long as you act and behave like a “real woman” or a “modest woman” or a “proper woman,” you’re safe, even as rape and domestic violence statistics beg to differ. Women in politics are subject to a level of scrutiny for the way they dress and act in ways a man would never experience. Women actresses are questioned on their diet and their underwear and other intimate details when men in the same film would never be asked the same things. Women are conditioned, from an early age, on what is feminine and coached that we need to stick to those things otherwise “men won’t want us.” And if you dare to toe the line, there’s a queue of people—men AND women—waiting to put you in your place!

When I was a little girl, I did not like the color pink. I rejected pink in all its forms, from clothes to decorations. If asked what color for anything in particular, my answer from age seven onward was “not pink.” My mother asked me what color I wanted my bedroom, and that was my outright answer. She asked if purple was okay. I thought about it and accepted it, dubiously. It seemed like a compromise. Years later, I still fought this battle—my mom and stepmom would buy me pink shirts, hot chartreuse gloves, magenta scarves, and probably wondered why I never wore them. My mom bought me a fleece robe for Christmas and said defensively when I opened it, “it’s not pink!” (I assure you, it was.)

As an adult, I got into nail polish for a multitude of reasons, one of which was there were more options than various shades of pink. And then I found a pink that I loved. And it was girly. And I embraced it. And I started to realize I, educated and open-minded and conscious of diversity and inclusion as I’d thought I was, had absorbed more than a few misogynistic attitudes of my own. It took me longer than I care to admit to realize that gender and sexuality are separate. And however you choose to present, as well as whoever you’re attracted to, is not bad. It simply is. You have the right to exist. You have the right to be who you are, no matter where you are on the spectrum. And you should be represented in fiction.

Not only an author, but as a person, it’s important to recognize there are all kinds of men, from the hypermasculine straight guy who is moved to tears at Evita, to the lisping, girlish-gestured gay boy who can roll up his sleeves and bench press twice his weight.

The lack of tolerance, shutting people down into rigid gender roles, prevents all of us from being our best selves. It keeps us from expressing who we are. It makes us unsafe, misunderstood, leads to bitterness and resentment, as well as withdrawal from the community and each other. It perpetrates violence, verbal and physical. And yes, a lack of safe spaces in fiction for people who present across the entire gender spectrum ties into this lack of tolerance and creates a culture of exclusion in the very places that we feel we should be safe and included.

What’s wrong with effeminophobia? You’re telling effete men of all stripes that they shouldn’t exist. Hell, ‘effete’ by itself has come to have a negative connotation. Isn’t that bad enough by itself?

What can we do about it?

This one is a little harder. A lot of prejudice is disguised as “I like what I like, and you can’t tell me what to like.” At the same time, you can’t make someone read and enjoy your story about an androgynous male beauty blogger any more than I can get into a novel about two hairy bears doing the nasty. (I can’t. I’m sorry. And lovingly dwelling on the hairiness factor and armpit sweat makes me bail faster than you can say ‘furry hole.’) But what we can ask for, nay, expect, is some more tolerance, a little respect, and an attempt at inclusion. I uphold your right to enjoy bears and hairy asses and buff, manly men. Where it becomes a problem is when readers and editors and publishers say those are the only kinds of men, and men in fiction, who should exist.

Tolerance … “I may not agree with what you’re saying, but I will fight to the death to defend your right to say it.” You don’t need to understand everything about someone who’s different from you to tolerate their existence as their own individual person. Don’t vilify effeminate men or try to erase them from manuscripts where they’re presented. Do avoid portraying them as stereotypes; make sure they’re well-rounded people.

Respect … Abide by the Golden Rule, done one better. Treat effeminate men not as you want to be treated, but as they want to be treated. And if you don’t know what that is, ask.

Inclusion … Make them a part of things. Include them in your worldview. Embrace the fact that effeminate men exist—and they’re not stereotypes—by talking with them, not making fun of them. By giving their stories a try, even if you think it’s not your cup of tea.

Do you have to like it? No. But do effeminate men have the right to exist? Absolutely. Can we be tolerant of them? Gosh, I hope so. And you can show them they’re worthy of respect by including them—in your story, on your reading list (if only to give them a try, or support their existence as side characters), and in your submissions and editing process if you’re a publisher. Above and beyond, we can all raise the level of our playing field if we keep an open mind, avoid outright rejection of portrayal of men that’s maybe a little outside the norm, and celebrate men and women of all kinds without tearing either down.

What You Can Do (Yes, You!) to Grow the Genre, Part Two

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about what you, and everyone, can do to grow the gay fiction genre. And really by gay fiction genre I mean the entire QUILTBAG spectrum. You can visit here for a refresher if you need one, but the upshot is to request gay fiction at your local libraries. Yes, even if you’ve already read or own the titles! If you read and enjoyed it, so much the better–because someone else may, as well.

At the end of that entry, I promised to provide a follow up on what more you, and all of us, can do to keep growing the genre. And like Part One, it is almost too simple to be true.

Buy the books!

When you buy them, you’re showing the publishing companies with your dollars where you want to see more product. Do you love m/m romance? Buy more! Do you love genderqueer fiction? Buy it up when you see it! Looking for titles focused on lady-love, or trans* characters? Fork over that cash! And if you can’t spend your own dollars, ask your library to buy it for you. Put it on your wish list. Or get it with your Amazon gift card or birthday/holiday money or tax return.

Spending your money on something, or getting someone else to spend money, on books, results in the publishers turning right around and investing their dollars in more authors that write for that genre. So if you’re really digging post-apocalyptic dystopian fiction with bisexual heros and strong genderqueer sidekicks and you’re lucky enough to see one, snap it up! (And point me to it, I’d read the hell out of it.)

Okay, that’s going a bit far afield, but more generally: do you support f/f? Buy it! Do you want to see more trans* fiction? There’s an anthology coming out next year–buy it! Do you think we need more literature that’s generally inclusive of the entire spectrum? When you see it, buy it!

Supporting what you want to read with your dollars is only part of the equation, though. Because there’s more you can do to spread the word.

Read the books!

Uh, why do I even have this as a step? Isn’t that a given? You would think so, wouldn’t you! But if you’re anything like me, you have a pile of books on your e-reader and a pile of physical books lurking on that shelf over there. And the one over there. And maybe even the one upstairs in the computer room. What? I’m a book pack rat. I have books I bought years ago that I haven’t even read yet.

Hence me including this step. When you buy those books, read ’em! They’re not doing any good sitting there on the shelf–make the time! (Or skip the extra helpings of Cracked listicles. I may or may not have worked that reference in just because I like the word listicle.)

It’s important to take breaks from tasks, whether you’re a writer, a mom, a stockbroker, or a workaholic of any stripe. Take a half hour out of your evening and pick up a book.

Or heck, leave it in the bathroom for that particular daily trip. Only you and the book will know, and the book gets read regardless.

Review the books!

This is where you put your mouth where your money has been. Because there is, indeed, more you can do to support the genre than simply pouring your dollars into it.

Why rate the books?

So other people will see whether you liked them, and potentially get interested in new authors or books they may like, as well!

Your rates and reviews matter. They provide other readers with information that helps them decide whether they’re going to spend their hard-earned cash on someone’s book. People tend to look at ratings, and they also look at reviews as well.

You don’t have to write an essay. You can write a sentence or two. You can keep it simple, so long as you convey whether you liked a book, and what you liked (or disliked) about it. You can let other readers know whether there was something that should have been warned for, and wasn’t; you can let other readers know if there was something especially delightful, or something that grabbed you and wouldn’t let go.

How can this possibly help? By spreading the word! People find out about new books through word of mouth as much as stalking publishers and authors they enjoy. Why do you think Goodreads connects to Twitter? So you can let other people know about your three, four, or five star reviews, of course. (I’m looking at it optimistically, I like doing that.)

So keep calm. Buy the books. See also: get the library to buy the books. And spread the good word.

Because the more they hear about it, the more everyone hears about what we want to read, the easier it gets to buy it. I don’t think QUILTBAG fiction will ever be mainstream, no, but I do think the industry is getting big enough to give other publishing paradigms a run for their money. There is so much more variety, so many more incredible stories featuring non-straight characters than there was when I was a kid. I love that! But I think we can do better, and there’s a ways to go.

Buy the books.

Read the books! (Duh.)

And spread the good word.

Three simple steps to keep our genre growing in a diverse world that’s seeing the face of publishing change every day!

Nibbles and Drinks, Ocean-scented Air, and Gay Romance Everywhere

Today’s entry was meant to be part two of two for what you can do to grow the gay fiction genre, but I’m deferring it for later. A trip retrospective is long overdue, so here it is! Join me on my rambling re-creation of the journey.

On Friday the 13th, my best friend and I made the four and a half hour drive from our home base in Oregon up to Seattle, Washington. The goal: Gay Romance Northwest, a one-day event presented by Old Growth Northwest and sponsored by a number of gay fiction presses, including my publisher, Less Than Three Press, for whom my friend also works as an editor.

We got off to an erratic start. After planning on leaving around noon, I woke up and decided instead of going into work for four hours, I wanted to take it easy that morning and get on the road sooner. We planned on having dinner with a friend up in Seattle who I haven’t seen in years. Leaving at noon to meet up for a six-thirty dinner would cut it awfully close.

There were also other events and socializing that sprang up around the event on Friday, and I wish I’d kept a closer eye on all the information coming from the group discussions on Goodreads. A four-author reading event took place, books by all the attending authors were sold at the university bookstore, and it sounds like a great time was had by all. Next year I’ll hopefully be more on point!

I’m going to divide this up into the three days of our adventures and try not to get too wordy.

Friday

After a quick lunch at Falafel King, our favorite local purveyor of shawerma (the Yemeni owner always corrects my pronounciation, no matter how hard I try), we climbed into my new bb Prius, Calypso, for the long haul. From our home base about an hour and a half south of the border to Seattle itself, we only made one stop, and that was for coffee. At Starbucks. On our way to Seattle. I know.

We arrived around five-ish, hitting a slow crawl of traffic at two points, which really was not bad for a Friday and totaled our journey around four and a half hours. The Hotel Monaco, where we stayed, was very spacious, better than your average Hampton I guess, but after recently staying at L’Hermitage in Vancouver it was obvious it wasn’t as upscale as it wanted you to think. Still, location, location, location. Kitty-corner to the library where the event took place, a stone’s throw from a Starbucks, a bar/restaurant, and any number of great places to eat or hang out, we could not ask for more from the price we paid. (Which made my eyes bulge when I checked out, but that’s another story).

Leaving early was the best of all decisions, because we got there with enough time for each of us to take quick showers to cleanse the sweat of our travels and relax a bit before heading over to the restaurant where we’d arranged to meet my friend.

On the .9 mile walk over, my poor BFF threw her back out. This would be a physical harbinger for her weekend.

Still, we made it to Sitka and Spruce on time, met my friend, and discovered the restaurant had an hour and a half wait. Um…well, we’re in a foodie town, let’s check out our other options. We ended up at Terra Plata on the corner, and merriment was had. I only remembered to tweet a few pics, because we fell on our shared plates like ravening foodies. We had a roasted grape dish with walnuts and blue cheese to start, a risotto that I plated out for the three of us, salmon tartare with house-made chips and a dill puree, and pork belly with an Asian pear slaw. Sooooo good, so yummy. I also had a couple of drinks, including a Seattle Rain Drop that was similar to a lemon drop.

Afterward, I walked and my poor friend limped back to the hotel and we tweeted back and forth with the LT3 ladies, arranging to meet in the Hotel Monaco’s lobby because of mobility reasons. BFF and I had fully expected the LT3 ladies to crash after their long day, and the events they’d gone through, but they met up with us to hang out and have drinks!

Trace, across the street, was maybe trying too hard and the music was a little too loud, but the drinks were great and the company even better. I have to say, for me, meeting LT3’s Meg, Sasha, and Samantha was the high point of a pretty darned awesome weekend. They are gracious, great to hang out with, and I felt like I’d known them for years. Next time I’m in NC to visit the parents and aunt and uncle, I hope they’ll let me crash their doorstep and bring them treats, or something.

After drinks, across the street at Hotel Monaco we made a few drunken tweets, using my phone’s wifi hotspot because the hotel wanted to charge us a daily wifi fee, and fell asleep watching the Food Network.

Day One: totally a success, except for that whole backccident. (Look, Meg, I made a word.)

Saturday

Although my iPod would not dock with the hotel alarm clock, probably a sign I should upgrade but why would I when the Classic still works, I did get the alarm set and woke at a reasonable hour to get ready. We had plans to meet up with one of Amanda’s Tumblr acquaintances for brunch, then line up (because free books!) before the event and meet my lovely friend from the night before.

Sazerac’s was a great corner restaurant tucked along one side of the Monaco. We went out for Starbucks first, given there was an hour and a half between brunch and getting up and moving, and split a pumpkin croissant while we got our morning caffeine fix. Later, Finn Marlowe and her friend told me they had spotted us and thought we were “their people” but the book on the table was surely too thick to be gay romance. Turns out they were talking about Appetite, my pride and joy. I am long-winded? The pumpkin croissant was delightful and, I’m sure, contributed to my 5+ pound weekend gain.

For brunch, I jumped at the chance to enjoy eggs benedict over griddled corn cakes and thick-cut country ham. Bliss. Everything a vacation brunch should be. I also liked the restaurant’s bottomless coffee.

Across the street, we rendezvoused with friends and rediscovered the LT3 ladies, only for all of us to find there wasn’t much of a place to queue up outside the event location, given the library fire marshall’s code and all. Still, we were at the head of an increasingly long line as more people filtered in. Aside from the fact that the auditorium was roped off and one of the volunteer staff directed us not to block access to the escalators or through-way, there wasn’t much by way of queue management, and people had arrived early–probably for first crack at the free books! The LT3 ladies brought bagsful of stock for the Gay City book drive donation, and headed up the queue. Registration opened slightly past noon, and we poured into the Seattle Library auditorium.

There were some minor bobbles, probably due to communication between the volunteers. The badges were grouped into roughly alphabetical, but not strictly alphabetical, so it took the volunteer some searching to realize my “Andor” badge, which should have been on top, was simply part of the “A” pile. The attendee swag was handed out later, rather than at the door. But the donation drive, free book table, and bookstore table were all clearly visible and easy to access.

After perusing the free book table, we secured excellent seats third row center and settled in to await the opening ceremonies.

Opening ceremonies were some words from Tracy Timmons-Gray, the very capable organizer, and Alexander Haddad, Executive Director of Old Growth Northwest, the event host and organizer. We also had a fabulous keynote from Marlene Harris, which I already expounded upon in an earlier entry. She is the technical services manager for technical and collection services, and spends a vast amount of time reading and reviewing books. She urged us all to return to our communities, recognizing we were from far-flung places, and request the books we want to see at our local libraries. It’s best if authors don’t request their own books, she counseled, as the library will often cotton onto those kinds of requests and they may frown on requests that are clearly a conflict of interest (the author profits off the sales of their book). Friends and fans who live within that library’s community are more than welcome to place requests for the books, but the library does pay attention to usage, and may not purchase more books from that same author if the book isn’t checked out very often.

Following the keynote, the first panel was moderated by the lovely Megan Derr (pronounced “Duhr,” we learned at Trace the night before), and covered the topic of the ins and outs of gay romance with panelists Astrid Amada, Stormy Glenn, Daisy Harris, Ethan Stone, and Anne Tenino. A wide-ranging discussion on topics from the writer perspective ensued, though as an author starting out, I’d have loved to hear more about what it takes to become successful as opposed to getting over first-time jitters and submitting a manuscript. What sort of struggles did the authors have to overcome? What kind of approaches to networking or sitting back to wait and see ended up working for them? All the authors’ answers revolved around clearing the first hurdle, submitting, and not anything beyond that. The answer on reading reviews of their work was interesting, too–the uniform answer was “Don’t, or let your friends vet it first.” Personally I find it useful to read reviews even if I disagree with them. What I am 100% behind: never, ever, ever engage with negative reviews of your own work.

The second panel was Behind the Curtain: Editing, Publishing, and Cover Art, moderated by Tracy Timmons-Gray, the event coordinator, and the panel was composed of editors and cover artists. L.C. Chase, Samantha Derr, Lou Harper, Nicole Kimberling, and Devon Rhodes were in attendance. Some interesting discussions, but my main takeaway was that I was frustrated that questions about diversity of submission got minimalized to “we don’t publish f/f, it doesn’t sell,” and ignoring bisexual and trans*. I am very happy that LT3 accepts the entire queer spectrum. One of the big messages of this panel, beyond an amusing defense of the headless torsos on gay romance covers (truth in advertising, yo!) was for readers to pay attention to house standards, and research their potential publishers before submitting to make sure the publisher and their standards, and their cover artists, will be a good fit.

The third panel was on Diversifying and Evolving the Genre, moderated by Laylah Hunter. Panelists were Heidi Belleau, Kade Boehme, Ginn Hale, Rick R. Reed, and Andrea Speed. This panel contained some of the biggest highs and lows of the event. There were some challenging questions asked, including author Rick Reed turning a question on the audience regarding effeminophobia, or, why do gay romance authors shy away from portrayals of effeminate men? The resounding answer was that authors are either told they’re writing a stereotypical gay man, a woman in a gay man’s body (I won’t use the trans* offensive term that was yelled out), or flat-out told by editors to rein in or alter portrayals of effeminate men. I was warned by my own editor to expect some backlash for my portrayal of a male beauty blogger who wears makeup and is very much into fashion. Yet these men exist, and editing them out or criticizing women for portraying them is rooted in effeminophobia, which many authors traced back to its root cause–misogyny. There’s a dismaying amount of misogyny even in our reader/writer base, where you’d hope and think that we, women and gay men, could be past that.

There were good discussions, but not enough time. Questions about the lack of diversity, limiting queer fiction to male/male, and shutting out lesbians, bisexuals, and trans*, were not fully addressed. There was an overwhelming amount of material and topics to mine, and no shortage of lively discussion.

Afterward, I picked up some titles I’d been eyeing during the breaks, and was pleased to bustle right up to Heidi Belleau to snag an autograph. We went from the Seattle Library to Happy Hour (actually happy three hours) at the Hotel Monaco across the street and ouch, I thought happy hour drinks were supposed to be discounted – these weren’t. Still, I grabbed my rum and coke, filled my plate with an array of delectable nibbles, and sought out my seat.

While it was great to have an author seat at the table, I ended up ditching it (after getting the Irregulars signed by the very personable Astrid Amara), to hang out with my friends and the LT3 pillars of editing and author/tech support, Sam and Sasha.

A few tidbits of feedback from the newbie author perspective–there was very little by way of new author support for Gay Rom NW authors. It seemed tilted a great deal more toward established authors, leaving it completely contingent on me to a) figure out what the expectations were, and b) drum up any interest in me or my books for the event. I’m sure I missed a great deal not being as active as I possibly could on the Goodreads forum, but if there was some kind of handy checklist for attending authors, means of asking for more promotion, or call to action that would have gotten me better involved, I either missed it or believe it’s very much needed. Overall my impression of the event was the famous authors knew what they were doing, and I was there to take notes and try to figure out what to do better next time. Also, the Goodreads forum was somewhat difficult because it was extremely active and hard to keep up with, and it was intimidating because everyone participating was so much bigger and more confident. This little fishy will try to do better for Rainbow Con 2014.

At some point I suppose that means trying to procure self-promoting swag.

Another note–the author/reader ratio seemed very high. If the attendee total was where I remember it, it seemed like authors and writers were at or around half of the total attendees. In my own personal opinion, this can hurt the dynamics of such an event for reasons I won’t expound on, this entry already being too long, but I can’t suggest capping author attendance either because I’m not sure that’s the solution.

Happy Hour involved circulating with authors, nibbles, drinks, and later on there were author readings, unfortunately after most of the crowd had thinned out. There were only a few devotees left by the end of the evening, and for me it was easy to see why–I was starving!! If our dinner reservations hadn’t been until 9, I would have begged for us to leave early, too. The snacks were most welcome, especially healthy options like fruit, but ultimately not enough to sustain me from brunch all the way to a 9 pm dinner. I’d thought about keeping snacks in my purse before leaving, and dismissed the idea as being too food-obsessive. It was a fun event, maybe a little long. Marlene Harris spent some time with our little group, and it was great to sit down and talk video games and book reviews–she reviews a loooooot of them! Tracy Timmons-Gray also checked in, and she looked so exhausted I wanted to wrap a blanket around her. Conversations continued in all directions on subjects ranging from the event and topics from earlier in the day, to all the kinds of things you’d discuss with friends.

Regarding the readings–I was on the fence about whether to do one or not, but it turns out there was either a sign-up for them, or they were invite-only. Another thing I must have missed, not being as active as I should have on the Goodreads group. Either way, I wish that had been a little more clear on the day of. Though I still can’t decide if I would have done it or not, because everyone was doing erotic readings, and mine would have been a UST-laden moment.

Afterward, we went with the Less Than Three ladies and Piper Vaughn and our friends to Benihana where they made us wait, grr, and we were all starving! At last we were all seated, though, and it was a good if somewhat subdued time. By that point, most of us were very tired. When I told Kitty that the chef flips shrimp tails at people, she looked at me with disbelief and asked if I was serious. I grinned at her when, sure enough, the chef flipped some shrimp tails around some of the table’s occupants, including me.

It was a long day, we came away from it with our heads buzzing with information and our bags bursting with swag and new books, and once again fell asleep to the Food Network on television.

Sunday

A little less exciting–brunch, then homeward bound! One of the notifications on my phone was for discussions from the Goodreads forum, where I discovered there was dim sum and other stuff going on in the area. The Less Than Three ladies had to be airport-bound by three in the morning, and my heart goes out to them. And Amanda and I had to decide if we were going to make our way to Pike’s Place, or get brunch and go.

Turns out Amanda had pulled her leg the night before, on top of her already-out back. So we conferred with friends, and ate at Sazerac’s again before heading out. I had wanted to go to Pike’s Place and hit up a charming French bakery and get some macarons as a souvenir. However, I wasn’t willing to drive there. When we checked out, that was it–we were hitting the highway or bust. So instead, we met up with Kitty, Liz and her husband Alex, and had a really nice brunch. Once again, conversation was excellent and wide-ranging. I wish I could meet up with all of you lovely folks more often!

The trip back was much shorter, about three and a half hours compared to four and a half. We stopped twice, once for a horrible McDonald’s pumpkin spice latte which I ended up throwing out, and then for a late lunch at Panera on the way home. We talked more about the panels we’d attended the day before, and some of the issues we personally experienced with the genre.

It was a good experience. They will be organizing a Gay Romance Northwest 2014 for September 13th, and I will definitely go again. I’ll make sure to utilize all of the resources I can in advance to try and be better prepared. And my utmost gratitude to all of the organizers, sponsors, volunteers, and attendees who made it possible!

What You Can Do (Yes, YOU!) to Grow the Genre: Part One

The first-annual Gay Romance Northwest was convened on September 14th, 2013, and I hope there will be many more. First, because it was amazing to attend a forum of readers and fellow writers in the genre. Second, because so many vibrant ideas came out of its information-packed program.

Our keynote address was delivered by Marlene Harris, who I had the pleasant occasion to speak with during the after-event Happy Hour, and she gave a call to action that I wanted to bring forward and urge each and every one of you to take up. It is surprisingly simple. Even in its simplicity, it can launch a huge ripple effect, and has the potential for amazing long-term results for our genre.

I don’t know about you, but as a reader of gay fiction, when I want to read something in the genre, I typically buy it. Not necessarily because I am flush with cash (ha, ha) but rather because no matter how much I frequent my local library, gay fiction is very much absent from their shelves. I love libraries! I practically grew up in one. I fondly remember the days I’d ride my bicycle halfway across town, check out a thick stack to while away the summer evenings, and do it all again the following week or mere days later, depending on how quickly I devoured them. Whole new words open up through the printed word, and the library was the best way for me, a young person with very scant income, to satisfy my bookish tastes. Parents who were quick to get me back-to-school clothes and supplies didn’t quite see reading material the same way. Combing through the shelves as I grew older and tried to find gay characters, though, was like turning to my oasis getaway and finding it dried up into a desert.

Why don’t we go to our local library for gay literature? Well, they don’t have it. They won’t carry it, you might say.

But did you ask for it?

In the vein of “if you build it, they will come,” when there’s something that you want to read, you can request it from your local library. There are many ways that libraries decide what gets purchased to put on their shelves, and one of them is reader request. If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “I wish I could check that book out before I buy it–but my library doesn’t have it,” there’s a simple solution. Ask your library to carry it!

Sure, you don’t get the immediate gratification of loading it onto your e-reader or holding it in your hands right away. But if you’re strapped for cash, the wait is probably worth it if you’re able to get the title from your library in the end.

Suggesting books to your library works on two levels. If you’re a gay fiction reader and want to see certain titles at your local library, ask for them. You may see those titles filtering into the library and onto shelves, amount of time dependant on their process. If you’re a gay fiction reader and you love certain titles and want everyone to be able to read them, you can still ask for them! Even if you’ve already enjoyed them yourself, if you spread word far and wide about good books, the audience grows, the books get purchased, and more books get written and published for the whole genre.

At this point it’s important to tip the hat to the role politics plays in your region. “I ask for books I want, and they get them? It’s as simple as that?” Well, that depends on your library. Some libraries like Seattle’s are open to a wide range of content, and more than happy to work with the gay fiction presses to get their books on the shelves and their ebooks on the roster. Others may be more conservative–in those cases, I’d say it’s worth the effort to rally the local community and get several people writing in to suggest the same titles and authors. Though libraries may have different policies, they are all supported by public dollars, and their public has the right to at least ask to have their reading tastes represented.

The two-part call to action boils down to the first of two things that you, yes YOU, can do to expand our genre and make it more successful. Is there something you want to read or have others read? Ask your local library!

As for the other half of my call to action … that’s to be continued, next Monday. Thanks for reading! I’m going to cover the entire weekend in Seattle as soon as I muster up the brainpower–feels like con hangover, probably due in part to the four-hour drive. I’d do it all again. And will, next year.

Erasing the Bisexuals

I am a bisexual woman, and have been for as long as I know, even before I was explicitly aware of it.

I have been in a long-term relationship with another woman for fourteen years. This does not make me a lesbian. This makes me monogamous and committed. I am still bisexual, and always will be. Being with a woman for over a decade doesn’t make me gay. I do consider myself very much a part of the queer spectrum – I am not straight. I’m not heterosexual. But I’m not a full-on lesbian. I exist.

Not long ago, there was a certain kerfuffle in our literary blogosphere regarding the presence of het sex in gay fiction, and one of my first reactions was “wait, are they pretending bisexuals don’t exist?” Because, believe it or not, that happens. A lot.

There is a broad, wide market out there, a rapidly-expanding niche that–I thought–was becoming ever more inclusive across the QUILTBAG spectrum. Now, preference is one thing. I understand expressing a preference for a certain type of story, or a certain kind of erotica, and that’s all well and good. Where it becomes unfair, insulting, and even harmful is imposing that standard on the genre as a whole. Because, really, are we just the M/M genre now? We don’t make room for trans*? We don’t abide lesbians? We do not suffer the bisexual women and men to live and love?

It’s one thing to state “I don’t like reading scenes with heterosexual sex.” That’s totally valid, and I support that. Depending on the characters, I may not enjoy it and would skip it myself.

It’s another thing to state, “heterosexual sex doesn’t belong in the M/M genre.” It should be labeled. It is a squick. It is an insult to M/M readers. Get out of my sandbox, you have your own.

Okay, wow. So what about your bisexual men?

They don’t exist, detractors cry. That brings us round to my point to begin with–once again, supposed allies are erasing the bisexuals.

One of the things that made it so difficult to come to terms with my sexuality, personally, was the complete dearth of bisexual representation anywhere. Media, news, conversation, you name it. Growing up, the concept of bisexuality was not shown to me anywhere as something I could be. You were one or the other, straight or gay. What I wanted, what I was, did not exist. It’s been important to me, as a writer, to show that yes, we do.

Out of the three novels I’ve had published so far, two of them feature main characters (men) who are bisexual. In one of those, it’s something of a plot point, even, with Lucas’s struggle to come to terms with the fact that he can be bisexual and committed to another man. In the other, Alex is so fixated on Nik that no one else matters–but he has a past with women, and at one point it does come under scrutiny.

I’m guessing that this has been deemed acceptable, that this has passed muster in the genre, because there weren’t any scenes that depicted the men having graphic goings-on with anyone other than their love interest, who was also male. But what if they had? What if that had been an essential element of the story? Cut it, these reviewers would say. Your audience doesn’t want to see it. The audience doesn’t want a graphic relationship between a man and a woman. There’s already a robust market for that; it’s the hetero romance genre. Your het sex scenes are not welcome here.

Does this sound familiar? “You can do _____, so long as I don’t have to see it.” “Well, it’s your business if you like _____, as long as it’s in private and you don’t rub it in my face.” That doesn’t sound like tolerance, to me. That sounds like veiled hate speech. You can do that thing I find repulsive, but it doesn’t make it right. So do it somewhere else. When you consider this may apply to bisexuals and their relationships, it starts to sound like bi-phobia to me.

Where is the market for the people who swing both ways? The recent outburst from the reviewing sphere suggests that “het scenes” have no place in the “gay market.” That makes it amply clear, once again, that I and people like me don’t exist, or we’re not supposed to. Or we can hook up with opposite-sex people, so long as it happens out of sight. If we want to have sex onscreen, it had better be with the partner whose genitals match up with what our audience is expecting.

To me, this kind of thinking is not only unnecessarily stifling, creativity-wise, but it’s exclusive. We are so much more than a narrow slice of uniformly handsome white men getting it on with other equally handsome white men. We are disabled trans*men, and capable bisexual brown women, and devout Muslim men who sleep with women but fall in love with other men, and chubby girls with vitiligo and a penchant for polyamory saving the world with their adoring wheelchair-bound genderqueer sidekick, and androgynous asexual vampires finding their one true love in a girl with PTSD. We are women falling in love with men falling for men who OTP women and so on, ouroborous unending.

Or maybe we’re not there yet. But authors ought to be able to write it, if that’s the story they want to write. And it’s still queer fiction.

Blanket directives to keep certain content such as–dare I say the blasphemous concept, heteronormative erotica–out of the genre are oppressive and they exclude those of us who cross genre constraints, whether we’re bisexual or not. They exclude certain types of characters, including bisexual and trans*, and erase or otherwise heavily edit those characters’ experiences.

When I was younger, I thought the story of Casanova was that of a bisexual man, who romped through the ranks of the attractive men and women of court. Boy, was I disappointed to find that he kept his charms solely distributed to women. I was young and ignorant but even then, looking for portrayals of someone whose attractions transcended sex or gender. In this day and age, we ought to be able to get that bisexual Casanova. And if someone from the QUILTBAG genre were to write his story, it should be the whole unedited glorious romp. Messy, “undesirable” girl parts and all.

Because we exist, and our stories deserve to be told, too–including the sex we enjoy on both sides of the “street.”

Talya Andor

Author of QUILTBAG fiction