'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my room
Were bunny girls grumbling and portents of doom,
And fairy tale murders and things from the deep—
My friends hope my dreams will stay safely asleep—

And Tara is working on graphics so fine
To help and promote that new novel of mine
(The fifth in a series I love beyond Price;
Come watch as our Verity takes the stage twice).

I'm staying at home for a change and a shot
To catch up on sleep and do what's been forgot,
For changes are coming, and coming so fast,
And it's time that we leave this last year in the past.

Two thousand fifteen is a year nearly spent.
Oh, the things that we did, and the places we went!
With DAW and with Orbit, and now Tor.com,
And I went to Disney World, taking my mom.

A whole week of Dayes can now sit on your shelves,
With wise-cracking Cait Sidhe and underslept elves,
Another adventure is coming this year,
Which ought to be good for your holiday cheer.

In March, there's InCryptid, and then in September,
An October girl who I hope you remember.
If you've missed my zombies, you'll be happy soon,
With stories so new in November and June.

With Dodger and Velveteen, Babylon Archer,
And so many more all prepared for departure
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady—
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.

The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,

I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,

And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
The dead and the living will stand and rejoice!
(I beg you to rise while you still have a choice.)

The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

Tomorrow, November 24th, is my bookday! Happy bookday to me! Very soon, Chimera will be available from bookstores all over North America and the United Kingdom, and from import stores all over the world. It has yet to be spotted in the wild, but I know it's coming. Hooray!

Since it's release week, I figured it was time to once again answer the wonderful people asking how they can help. So here are a few dos and don'ts for making this book launch awesome.

DO buy the book as soon as you can. Sales during the first week are very important—think of it as "opening weekend" for a movie—but they're not the end-all be-all. If you can get the book tomorrow, get the book (and come see me at the Brooklyn WORD if you're in the New York area); if you can get it at my book release party at Borderlands on December 5th, get it at my book release party. Whatever works for you. Brick-and-mortar store purchases are best, as they encourage reordering. If you've already bought the book, consider buying the book again during release week, as a single copy might get lonely. They make great gifts!

DON'T yell at other people who haven't bought the book yet. I know, that's sort of a "why are you saying this?" statement, but I got a very sad email from a teenager who'd been yelled at for not buying A Local Habitation the week that it came out, and I have never forgotten it. So just be chill. Unless you want to buy books for people who don't have them, in which case, don't yell, just buy.

DO ask your local bookstore if they have it on order. If your local store is part of a large chain, such as Barnes and Noble, the odds are good that the answer will be "yes," and that they'll be more than happy to hold one for you. If your local store is small, and does not focus specifically on science fiction/fantasy, they may have been waiting to see signs of interest before placing an order. Get interested! Interest is awesome!

DON'T berate your local bookseller if they say "no." Telling people they're overlooking something awesome doesn't make them go "gosh, I see the error of my ways." It makes them go "well, I guess it can be awesome without me." Suggest. Ask if you can special-order a copy. But don't be nasty to people just because their shelves can't hold every book ever written.

DO post reviews on your blog or on Amazon.com. Reviews are fantastic! Reviews make everything better! Please, write and post a review, even if it's just "I liked it." Honestly, even if it's just "this wasn't really my thing." As long as you're being fair and reasoned in your commentary, I'm thrilled. (I like to believe you won't all race right out to post one-star reviews, but if that's what you really think, I promise that I won't be mad.)

DON'T get nasty at people who post negative reviews. You are all people. You all have a right to the ball. That includes people who don't like my work. Please don't argue with negative reviewers on my behalf. It just makes everybody sad. If you really think someone's being unfair, why don't you post your own review, to present an alternate perspective? (Also, please don't email me my Amazon reviews. I don't read them, I don't want to read them, and I definitely don't want to be surprised with them. Please have mercy.)

DO feel free to get multiple copies. No, you probably don't need eight copies for your permanent collection, but remember that bibliophile friends, school libraries, and shelters are always in need of books. I'm donating a few of my author's copies to a local women's shelter, because they get a lot of women there who really need the escape. There are also people who just can't afford their own copies, and would be delighted. I wouldn't have had half the library I did as a teenager if it weren't for the kindness of the people around me.

DON'T feel obligated to get multiple copies, or pressure other people to do so. Seriously, we're all on budgets, and too much aggressive press can actually turn people off on a good thing. Let people make their own choices. Have faith.

DO check with your local library to be sure they have a copy of on order. If they don't, you can fill out a library request form. Spread the paperback love!

DON'T forget that libraries need books. Many libraries, especially on the high school level, are really strapped for cash right now, and book donations are frequently tax deductible. If you have a few bucks to spare, you can improve the world on multiple levels by donating books to your local public and high school libraries. Ask first if they're taking donations; they may tell you that donated books go straight to the Friends of the Library book sale. Consider doing it anyway. FOTL benefits both the library and local low-income people looking for a way to read new books on a budget.

DO suggest the book to bookstore employees who like biomedical science fiction. Nothing boosts sales like having people in the stores who really like a project. If your Cousin Danny (or Dani) works at a bookstore, say "Hey, why don't you give this a try?" It just might help.

DON'T rearrange bookstore displays. If the staff of my local bookstore is constantly being forced to deal with fixing the shelves after someone "helpfully" rearranged things to give their chosen favorites a better position, they're unlikely to feel well inclined toward that book—or author. It's not a good thing to piss off the bookstores. Let's just not.

So those are some things. I'm sure there are lots of other things to consider; this is, at least, a start. Finally, a few things that don't help the book, but do help the me:

Please don't expect immediate email response from me for anything short of "you promised us this interview, it runs tomorrow, where are your answers?" I normally make an effort to be a semi-competent correspondent, but with a new book on shelves and final edits due on Once Broken Faith, a lot of things are falling by the wayside. Like sleep.

If you're in the New York area, I hope to see you tomorrow night at the Brooklyn WORD, where I will be reading, signing, and answering questions for your enjoyment!

Whee!

Thanks to the generosity of my readers, we are opening a second hardship giveaway.

What is a hardship giveaway? It's where I give away older books (not ARCs or just-released) to people who couldn't afford to buy them when they came out, and/or can't afford them now. It's an honor system: I believe that you will honor my intent, and only enter if you have a genuine need. Because T-shirt mailing is ongoing, this particular giveaway is only open to people with US addresses. I am so sorry about that, I really am, but a) I can't afford international postage (which is sort of contradictory to the whole "hardship" angle), and b) my postal workers will kill me if I add more international shipping right now.

To enter...

1) Comment on this post, indicating that you have a US address.
2) Tell me what book you are hoping to win. Anything I've written.
2a) Hell, feel free to list anthologies.
3) If you have a second choice, list that.

I cannot guarantee that I have any specific book "in stock," as it were, but I can sure look. (I can tell you for sure that I don't have Rosemary and Rue, Feed, or A Fantasy Medley 2 right now, although I do have When Will You Rise and Cat Valente's essay collection, for which I wrote the intro.)

I will choose ten winners on Monday, February 9th. They will have twenty-four hours to contact me to claim their prizes. This will be tightly enforced, as I leave for New York on the 12th. Please do not enter if you won a prize in the previous hardship giveaway, as we want to spread the love as far as possible.

Shoot for the moon!

Our hardship giveaway winners:

artofcheatery has won a copy of Parasite.
phoenix_singing has won a copy of The Winter Long.
jjmcgaffey has won a copy of Sparrow Hill Road.
starlingthefool has won a copy of Symbiont.
Tripp Potterfield has won a copy of Chimes at Midnight.

Please email me within the next twenty-four hours, using my website contact form, to claim your prizes.

But wait, there's more!

A few people asked me whether there was anything they could do to help with giveaways of this kind, because people are awesome. So. Here is my PayPal: delirium@xocolatl.com. If anyone wants to send me postage costs—roughly USD $5 per book, averaged out to include cost of envelopes and such (it's a little high for a paperback, a little low for a hardcover, so it all comes out in the wash), I will do another hardship giveaway as soon as I have $25 for postage.

ETA: Wow, no more postage costs needed! Opening the new giveaway now.

There are people in the world with tattoos inspired by my words. This will never fail to amaze me.

But this is the first time someone has tattooed me and Vixy on their body.

Look at this beautiful ink. What an amazing honor.

I am amazed.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my room
Were bunny girls grumbling and portents of doom,
And fairy tale murders and pandemic flu—
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true—

And Tara is working on graphics so fine
To help and promote that new novel of mine
(The fourth in a series I hope you enjoy,
Narrated by Alex, poor put-upon boy).

I'm staying at home for a change and a shot
To catch up on sleep and do what's been forgot,
For changes are coming, and coming so fast,
And it's time that we leave this last year in the past.

Two thousand fourteen is a year nearly spent.
Oh, the things that we did, and the places we went!
I'm still with the agent—now more than six years;
She's my superhero, and I have no fear.

A whole week of Dayes can now sit on your shelves,
With wise-cracking Cait Sidhe and underslept elves,
Another adventure is coming this year,
Which ought to be good for your holiday cheer.

In March, there's InCryptid, and then in September,
An October girl who I hope you remember.
The parasite panic will come to a head
In the month of November—so much to be read!

With Newsflesh and Velveteen, Babylon Archer,
And so many more all prepared for departure
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady—
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.

The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,

I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,

And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
The dead and the living will stand and rejoice!
(I beg you to rise while you still have a choice.)

The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

Katharine Kerr is a nice lady, a fellow DAWthor, and a really great storyteller. She needs our help.

I started the first draft of this post with some personal stuff, and then realized it didn't matter; this is a nice lady who tells great stories, and needs us, maybe now more than ever. Take a look.

http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/help-author-katharine-kerr-care-for-her-husband-howard/278370

Thank you.

If you are a creative professional, it is a sad reality that self-promotion is a part of your job. Maybe that wasn't always true; maybe there was a time when you could emerge from your creative chambers, hand your latest piece of deathless art to your agent, and then retreat back into your office fastness to keep creating. But alas, we do not live in that possibly mythic world, and if you work in the arts, at all, you need to be willing to sell yourself to whatever degree, and in whatever manner, you are comfortable.

Maybe it's social media updates. Maybe it's occasional blog posts. Maybe it's setting up a mailing list. There are a lot of ways to do self-promotion, and since I consider sincerity to be the most important thing of all, there's really no wrong way. As long as you're comfortable and happy and not drowning in your update links, you're probably okay.

But here's the thing. There is a line between "self-promotion" and "spam," and while that line is usually pretty visible, it's also easy to cross, even without intending to. I schedule Current Projects posts; make Inchworm Girl posts once a week at max; and try to do sales announcements and convention announcements when it will have the greatest impact. It is thus possible—not likely, but possible—that all three of these things could happen on the same day. That would seem a little spammy, and take away from all three. It would also still be confined to my space, which you can read at your leisure, if you read it at all.

The same goes for Twitter. On and around book release day, I get very "OMG BOOK" for about, oh, 80% of my Tweets. I lose a few followers every time I have a book come out, since the rest of the time, my Twitter is very much "here are pictures of my cats and snarky comments about my doll collection." (Most of those followers come back again about a week later, when the book stuff dies down.) And that's fine! I am shouting and running around within my own space, they aren't interested, they go to the corner store for some milk and bread and come back when things are back to normal. This is all totally awesome.

The trouble, for me, comes when self-promotion begins going into other peoples' spaces without being invited. An example:

Last week I tweeted about how my sister is a nervous flier. Within twenty minutes I had received an unsolicited tweet from a retired commercial pilot who does not normally follow me, with a link to his book on calming fears of flying. Now, this may seem like he's just being helpful, but again, he does not follow me, and I did not ask for advice. This is a stranger who clearly has some standard searches coming across my comment and deciding that he can use it to profit.

I told him that what he was doing was spamming, and he asked why I was making such a fuss. The reason is simple: because he came into my space, without my asking him to, and tried to sell me something I had not asked for. He was spamming.

Something I see with much more frequency, although also on Twitter (and, in a modified form, on Facebook), is people @-checking random groups of authors/fans/whatever with "Hey, think about it, Soviet steampunk [link to book]." Again, this is not encouraging me to buy your book, or even to look at it. This is spamming.

It's different when you're doing it in your own space, or when you've been solicited. If I Tweet "What should I be reading?" and you give me a link to your awesome Shakespearean detective erotica, we're all good. If I click over to your feed and it's two-thirds self-promo, that's cool too. But once you come into my space, you'd best be sure you were invited. By the same token, if I'm coming into your space, I'd best be sure that I was invited.

Anything else is likely to turn my serious message into a piece of unwanted lunch meat.

With Nanowrimo in full swing, I thought it was time to break out a few helpful links for those few, those brave few, those band of frumious bandersnatches who were fighting their way through this tulgy wood.

This is a blog post from 2011, from Literary Lab, and you should read it. Regardless of whether you're doing Nanowrimo, really, because it has some very helpful things to say.

You can read my original fifty thoughts on writing here. I still need to finish the essay series that goes with it, but the thoughts are solid, and I continue to stand by them.

There are a lot of resources out there to help you, and I hope you have the best November ever. I hope every one of you hits the finish line with a glorious and resounding "gong." I also hope that if you don't make your final goal, that you won't give up on your new project (or the old one you dusted off for this exercise). I don't often finish books in a single month, and I am essentially a word Olympian right now, constantly in training, constantly trying to beat my best time. So however far you get in this sprint, it is amazing and you are amazing, and you should feel good about yourself.

Happy Nanowrimo, and happy November to all of you.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my room
Were bunny girls bitching, and portents of doom,
And fairy tale murders and pandemic flu—
My friends hope my holiday dreams won't come true—

And Tara is working on graphics so fine
To help and promote that new novel of mine
(The third in a series I like quite a lot,
Narrated by Alex—please give him a shot).

I'm staying at home for a change and a shot
To catch up on sleep and do what's been forgot,
For changes are coming, and coming so fast,
And it's time that we leave this last year in the past.

Two thousand thirteen is a year nearly spent.
Oh, the things that we did, and the places we went!
I'm still with the agent—now more than five years;
She's my superhero, and I have no fear.

A whole week of Dayes can now sit on your shelves,
With wise-cracking Cait Sidhe and put-upon elves,
Another adventure is coming this year,
Which ought to be good for your holiday cheer.

In March, there's InCryptid, and Rose comes in May,
My Sparrow Hill girl who died so far away,
And then in September, the winter is long,
It's a bright, brand-new verse in my favorite song;

InCryptid and Velveteen, Babylon Archer,
And so many more are prepared for departure
At seanan_mcguire the updates are steady—
I'm keeping you posted. You'd better get ready.

The year yet to come will bring wonders galore,
And I can't start to guess at the great things in store,
So whatever you celebrate when the world's cold,
Be it secular, modern, or something quite old,

I hope that you're happy, I hope that you're warm,
I hope that you're ready to weather the storm,
And I wish you the joys that a winter provides,
All you Kings of the Summer and sweet Snow Queen brides,

And I can't wait to see what the next year will bring,
The stories we'll tell, and the songs that we'll sing.
The dead and the living will stand and rejoice!
(I beg you to rise while you still have a choice.)

The journey's been fun, and there's much more to see,
So grab your machete and come now with me,
And they'll hear us exclaim as we dash out of sight,
"Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!"

1. So I already wrote this entry once, and it was long and chatty and fun, and then I hit a button I didn't even realize existed and it all went away. I am thus suddenly grumpy, and my original tone may have changed a bit. Stupid buttons.

2. Amy Mebberson made a thing and you should all go admire it. I ordered mine so fast when it went up for sale that I actually got #1 of 50. That is love.

3. If you don't have a budget line item for Amy's art (which, let's face it, is a weird line item to have in a budget, and yet), take a look at Renee Nault's incredible watercolor mermaids. She has prints and calendars for sale, and has an incredibly diverse undersea world waiting for you to dive in. So pretty. So cool.

4. Starting Christmas Day, and continuing all the way through my birthday festivities, I will be doing a chain of twelve giveaways, for everything from ARCs and printed books to cover flats, posters, and special surprises. Each giveaway will have its own rules; watch this space for details.

5. Omnivoracious posted a super-fun thing about books at San Diego Comic-Con, including a picture of me in my Umbrella Corporation blue dress, standing in front of the Umbrella Corporation red cover for Parasite. I look very smug. You would, too, if that were your cover.

6. Alice and I did the Macarena this morning. I enjoyed it more than she did.

7. The year is almost over, but there are still some fun surprises to come: watch this space for details, and watch the sky for alien invasions. Darn those alien invasions.

8. Zombies are love.

9. I will be making my last pre-Christmas stop at Borderlands Books this afternoon. At this point, anything ordered won't reach you before the holidays, but you can still get signed and personalized books if you contact them before 2pm PST. After that, I don't guarantee another swing-through until sometime in January.

10. Finally for right now, Jill is still accepting donations to fund her surgery. As I said when she first started this campaign, we could buy her a future for Christmas, and that's amazing. If you've been looking for a tip jar to shove a couple of dollars into as a karmic investment for the year to come, please swing by and take a look at her plea.

I hope that you're all having the merriest holiday possible; I hope you're warm and safe and content, even if you're not in a place where you can be happy; I hope you're taking care of yourselves.

Let's get through these holidays together.

So Chuck Wendig posted his thoughts on spoilers recently. I agree with many of them. There are entire media empires I have chosen to have no truck with because they were spoiled for me so thoroughly before I could start embracing them, as often through the intent of the people doing the spoiling as by accident. There is a whole subculture on Tumblr dedicated to bootlegging new movies the day they hit theaters, so that the very first spoiler-laden animated .gifs can be created. It can get really, really frustrating. While I understand the joy of having an open and enthusiastic discussion of a thing you love, part of me goes "not everyone can go to every opening night, watch every show the second it airs, read every book in ARC form three months before publication." It's just not possible, and in those cases, spoilers can steal a lot of the joy in enjoying a piece of media.

(Not for everyone, naturally. I know people who adore spoilers, and find them an exciting roadmap to what's ahead. I am just as likely to go "welp, that was the greatest hits version of the story, let's go enjoy something new.")

But saying "spoilers are bad" and "spoilers are wrong" seems very...I don't know, privileged? At least to me. I have friends who cannot watch rape. Cannot watch any threat of sexual violence. Cannot handle the use of date rape drugs or other such devices in fiction. I know people who are so severely afraid of spiders that even spiders in movies are not safe for them, or who can't deal with certain forms of bodily harm (eyeballs, sure, but no fingers, no teeth...). Most, if not all, of these people have really good reasons for their fears, and if they don't go around wearing shirts that list them off for your comprehension and enlightenment, that's because it's nobody else's business.

So they seek out spoilers. They look for them everywhere, because a little loss of surprise is worth it for the comfort of knowing a piece of media is safe. I was lucky enough to see Thor 2 early (I love you, Disneyland Annual Pass), and while I refused, for the most part, to be a source of spoilers, one person asked me a very basic "this thing will be triggery for me, does this thing happen" question, and got an answer. Because my desire not to put spoilers out into the world is not stronger than someone else's need for mental peace. I knew why she was asking. Refusing to answer at that point would have been policing someone else's choices, and saying I knew what she needed better than she did.

I will absolutely roll with "involuntary spoilers are bad": I don't want to get spoiled for everything in the universe the second I turn on my computer in the morning. I will roll with "there is a statute of limitations," and while we haven't all agreed on what it is, I stop getting grumpy after a week or so for minor things (it takes longer for big, shocking, "this changes everything" revelations). But we have to remember that for some people, spoilers are safety and self-defense. Spoilers are what makes it possible for them to enjoy media, just like everybody else.

Sometimes, providing spoilers is the only kind thing to do.

The ongoing discussion about diversity in fiction is, well, ongoing; that's sort of what ongoing discussions do. (Also, I have been neck-deep in edits for the past month, so the fact that I used "ongoing" three times in the prior sentence feels deliciously naughty.) On the one side, you have people saying "representation matters." On the other side, you have people saying that the urge for diversity in fiction is "selfie culture" (and somehow that's bad?), and that fiction should show us new things, not just be "a representative of the self," and that it's "jarring" when they encounter "minority characters" who don't somehow fit a list of cultural and social ticky-boxes that would justify those characters existing as anything other than straight, white, male. "Cis" doesn't even need to be spoken. There's no way a trans* character could exist for any reason other than to talk about their genitals, and that would be the ultimate in jarring, thanks.

And people wonder why I spend so much time wanting to set the world on fire.

I think it's very telling that the people who say it's wrong to want representation in fiction are almost overwhelmingly white. If I want to read about white people having amazing adventures and doing incredible things, being heroes and villains, simple and complicated, handsome and hideous, loved and hated, all I need to do is pick up a book at random. There is a literally 90% chance that I will get all those things from whatever book I've chosen, especially if I'm going for the "classic literature" of the science fiction/fantasy/horror world. 90%! And that may honestly be low-balling the number! If I were a straight white man, of course I wouldn't see any issue with representation in fiction—I'd be on every page I turned! Even as a straight white woman, I'd be on a lot of pages, even if half those pages would have me either naked or screaming (or both, if I had happened to grab a Gor book). There's no problem with representation here!

But I've never been a straight white man. I've never been a straight white girl, either. I was a bisexual kid with a lot of questions and not very many answers, and it wasn't until I encountered ElfQuest that I actually felt like I saw myself on a page. No, I didn't think I was an elf, although I sort of wished I was, because elves are awesome, but it was Cutter and Leetah and the rest who introduced me to the idea that I could love boys and girls, and not be a bad person. I wasn't indecisive or wicked. I just had a lot of love to give, and my set of criteria for who got it wasn't based on gender.

Let me restate that: I was already bi. I had already been attracted to girls, guys, and a kid in my class who went by "Pup" and refused to be pinned down to either gender (and my second grade teacher never forced Pup to commit either way, which was pretty damn cool of her, given that this was the 1980s). Books did not make me choose my sexuality; books told me a) that my sexuality existed, and b) that it was okay, it was natural, it was not proof that there was something wrong with me. And especially in grade school/middle school, sexuality is invisible in a way that very little else is. No one knew I was queer until I came out. It wasn't even a matter of openly hiding it; sex wasn't on the table, I didn't feel like sharing, I didn't share. No one knew that I was different. Everyone thought that when they read their books about little white girls having adventures, they were reading about me, too.

You know what's not invisible? Race. "I don't see race" is bull. When we read those books about little white kids having amazing adventures, we knew that it was white kids having adventures, because adventures are for white people. At the age of eight, we all understood that our non-white classmates were not represented in the books we read, and very few of us had the sophistication to jump to "this is a lack of representation." Instead, we jumped to "I guess Oz doesn't like black people." Because books shape your view of the world, books remake you in their image, and the books we had said little white kids go on adventures, little kids of any other race are nowhere to be seen.

This is a problem.

So some of us grew up, and for whatever reason—maybe it affected us directly, maybe it affected our friends, maybe it was just pointed out—we started trying to show a world that looked more like the world we actually lived in, where everything wasn't a monoculture. And for some reason, this is being taken as a threat. How dare you want little Asian kids to go on adventures. How dare you want queer teenagers to save the world. How dare you imply that transwomen can be perfectly ordinary, perfectly competent people who just want to not get eaten by the dinosaur that's been eating everyone else. That's selfie culture, that's diversity for the sake of diversity, that's wrong. And after a great deal of consideration, I have come to this conclusion:

If that's what you think, you can go fuck yourself.

That's not politic, and it's not nice, and it may cause a couple of people to go "what a bitch, I'm done," but I don't fucking care. Because I am tired of people needing to thank me for making an effort. I am tired of receiving email that says it was distracting when so-and-so turned out to be gay, or asking why I have Indian characters in three separate series (and the fact that having an Indian woman show up and never speak a line is apparently enough to put Indexing on the same level as Blackout for some people just makes me weep for humanity). I am tired of "oh you feel like you're so open-minded" because I write about gay people, bi people, poly people, people who are exactly like the people that I know. I want to be unremarkable for my casting choices, and only remarkable for my characters being awesome (because let's face it, my characters are awesome).

A lack of representation in fiction leads to a lack of self-esteem, because selfie culture is important: we need to see ourselves, and the people who keep trying to dismiss that as somehow selfish or greedy or narcissistic are the ones who've had a mirror held up to them for so long that they don't even see it anymore. White becomes so generic, so default, that it's not mentioned when describing a character ("blonde hair, blue eyes" vs. "oh, she's black, of course, that's the biggest thing"). Humanity is huge and diverse and amazing, and saying that only a small, approved sliver of it belongs in fiction is a dick move. If diversity is distracting, it's because it's so rare.

We can fix that.

In the comments on my post on how difficult it is to harass people by mistake, people are branching into the cosplay discussion. It's still pretty mild here, because y'all are awesome, but I've seen it get fairly intense elsewhere. IE, "That girl over there who's dressed up like Black Widow is inviting me to stare at her, so how can the same rules of harassment apply to her?"

Well, first, the same rules of harassment apply to her because she's a goddamn human being, and all human beings, regardless of what they do or do not choose to wear, deserve to feel safe and be free from harassment. Second, the same rules of harassment apply to her because we're human beings, or alien anthropologists who know damn well where the standards for human behavior lie, and once we're old enough to buy convention memberships and book hotel rooms, we should know better. (We should know better before then, too, but that's a matter for our parents.)

I have several friends who do cosplay, both at general science fiction conventions and at larger genre conventions, such as San Diego Comic Con. This means that they are going out in public in outfits they have spent a lot of time and energy making, which may or may not be as concealing as standard street clothes. (One of my friends regularly cosplays Emma Frost. Another has won awards for a Na'vi costume which consists largely of incredibly well-applied body paint.) This also means that they are inviting a certain amount of looking at them: no one puts that much effort into looking amazing when they don't want to be looked at.

Note that "look" and "leer" are not the same word.

What is appropriate? Admiring a cosplayer's costume. Admiring how well they fit the character. Asking if you can take a picture (providing they're not in the middle of doing something else at the time, like say, trying to inhale a hot dog before their next panel, running to the bathroom, or otherwise being a biological creature in a material universe). Asking if you can take a picture with them. Asking about the workmanship that went into the costume's design.

What is not appropriate? "I really love it when a girl with decent tits dresses up as [character]." Trying to take pictures of disembodied lady pieces, like butts or boobs (also inappropriate: disembodied dude bits—they're just rarer). Quizzing them on whether or not they even know who they're dressed up as. (Spoiler alert: anyone who spent ninety hours making a picture-accurate Illyana Rasputin costume probably knows who she is, and if it's someone who, say, joined a group costume to make their friends happy, but prefers DC/spends too much time gaming to read comics/is really happier in the SCA, how is that hurting you any? There is no such thing as a fake geek.) Asking if they'll give you a spanking. Asking how much they charge by the hour. Asking if you can touch them.

There is something magical about meeting a really good cosplayer dressed as one of your favorite characters. They're avatars. Watch a small child meet someone dressed as Iron Man or Aang and see them stare in open-mouthed awe. Hell, watch me meet a really good Tinker Bell at a Disney park. Costuming is a form of magic. It makes the unreal concrete and tangible. It deserves respect.

But those Tinker Bells that I meet at Disneyland have handlers, people who will immediately step in if anyone crosses a line or makes the pixies uncomfortable. What's more, those Disney pixies are paid to be my fantasy, as long as that fantasy remains G-rated and friendly. Cosplayers? Not getting paid. They are people, and they have a right to the ball. They also have the right to say "please take your hand off me" or "please don't take pictures of my ass" without getting told "well, you shouldn't have dressed like that if you didn't want the attention." Wanting attention and wanting to be harassed are very different things.

And as a note: cosplayers are not harassing you by walking around being attractive, or semi-clothed, or interesting to look at. They are not "teases" or "gagging for it" when they put on something skimpy. They are not here to be anyone's private walking skin magazine. They are people.

(Yes, this means they can be inappropriate too. We had an issue at one of the comic conventions a few years ago with someone dressed as Deadpool inappropriately touching female attendees, and then running away. He couldn't be distinguished from the eight or so Deadpools not being giant sacks of asshole. Last year at Emerald City Comic-Con I observed two woman dressed as Jean Gray saying such nasty things about a woman dressed as Emma Frost that she was virtually in tears. None of these things were, or are, appropriate.)

Cosplay makes our conventions more visually arresting. It's a powerful form of expression. It's a hobby and a passion like any other. But costume does not equal consent.

Again, if this is something you can't trust yourself to grasp, maybe you need to stay home.

So we're talking a lot about harassment in the science fiction and fantasy community right now, and that's a good thing: that's a thing that really needs to happen. Much of the conversation has centered on sexual harassment, but it has also touched on racial harassment, religious harassment, social harassment, and plain ol' bullying. John Scalzi has put forth a convention harassment policy policy (not as redundant as it sounds), and a lot of people have co-signed to indicate that they, too, will refrain from attending conventions without good, public anti-harassment policies. Sounds good, right? I mean, "play nicely with the other children" is the building block of most people's educations, and none of us wakes up in the morning thinking "I'm gonna harass somebody today."

(Well. Maybe some people do. And fuck them.)

But as always happens when this conversation gets started, some people are standing up and shouting "THOUGHT POLICE!" and "Well I don't want to go to a convention where wearing a T-shirt could get me banned for harassment."

Oh, honey lambs, I'm sorry the world is so hard. Let's talk about harassment a little more, shall we? Wikipedia (which is not the most 100% reputable source, but is easy to copy and paste) defines "harassment" as "behavior intended to disturb or upset, and it is characteristically repetitive." It goes on to say that "In the legal sense, it is intentional behavior which is found threatening or disturbing. Sexual harassment refers to persistent and unwanted sexual advances."

Intentional. Intended. Persistent. What does each of these words mean? Let's look at definitions taken from real world experiences.

Intentional. If you run up to me in a public place and scream "I'M GOING TO RAPE YOU, YOU FAT BITCH!", you are harassing me. It only took one sentence to cross that line! Why is that? Well, because a specific threat was made, and even if there was no intent to actually cause physical harm, anyone who makes that statement clearly intended to disturb and upset me. This is harassment, and yeah, it's probably going to lead to my making a report to convention staff, and no, I'm not going to feel bad if someone gets kicked out because of it.

On the other hand, what if I'm just walking through the convention lobby and I hear some guys making dirty jokes in the corner? Is that harassment? No. It's in poor taste, but it's not harassment. I may still say something to convention staff, because most cons include children, and public space is not the place to be crossing certain lines.

Intended. But what happens if, after I tell convention staff "Hey, those guys over there are telling dirty jokes loudly in the lobby, maybe it would be a good idea for them to stop" those same people figure out that I was the one who reported them and spend the rest of the day following me around the hotel, telling dirty jokes loudly to try and get a rise out of me? What if, say, they follow me into my panels and ask questions that are really set-ups for filthy punchlines? Is that harassment?

Yeah. They intended to upset me. They wanted me to feel unsafe and unwelcome, and they did a very good job of it. But what if it was a T-shirt that made me go "ew," and not a bunch of joke-tellers? Well, if the convention doesn't have a "clean language" policy (which some cons with lots of underage attendees do have: they want Grandma to be able to look around the lobby and feel like little Timmy is safe), that's not harassment. Hell, even if there is a "clean language" policy, it's not harassment, it's just a rule violation. Running into the person in the inappropriate-to-me shirt several times over the course of the day is not harassment, it's happenstance.

I have seen costumed individuals harass people with their attire. The most upsetting incident involved someone in a bikini and bodypaint trying to force an individual whose religion forbade him to stare at uncovered women to look at her. Was the man committing religious oppression or harassment? No. He never said, at least in my hearing, that she needed to cover up her sinful, sinful body. He just didn't look at her. Was the woman committing harassment? Yes. But look at her actions: she intended to do what she did. It was intentional. Lots of women wearing as little or less walked by, and none of them were harassing him with their presence. Just the one who was yelling and touching his arms and generally being intentionally problematic.

Persistent. I've seen several people say that anti-harassment policies are the end of convention hook-ups and no geeks will ever get dates again oh noes we're going to die out. And that's where persistent comes to the party.

"Hey, you're nice, wanna have coffee?"
"No."

Not harassment!

"That dress could make a good dog break his leash."
"Crude but points for The West Wing reference."

Probably not harassment!

"Wanna fuck?"
"No."

Maybe harassment, maybe not, depending on what came before it.

"You're hot."
"Thanks, I'm with someone."
"Aw baby don't be like that."
"Please excuse me."
"Your ass is just...mmm."
"I'd really like to go over there."
"I'll come with you baby."

Harassment! Look: no one is saying "don't ask people out" or "never talk to a person you find attractive again." We're saying "no means no." We're saying "if she's trying to get away from you, let her." We're saying "if you follow him through the hotel, you are being inappropriate." We're saying "unless I have asked you to touch me, touching me is not appropriate."

Studies have shown that people are much better at picking up on "no" than they want to admit, because admitting it would mean acknowledging it. So learn to pick up on "no," both verbally and non-verbally. Watch body language. Back off. Listen.

Having a bawdy song filk circle is not harassment: it's in the program book, it's labeled, and anyone who comes to that circle and gets offended by the circle in general is looking to get upset. Singing a dirty song during open filk while staring at the girl who says she's uncomfortable with that sort of thing and going "Ha ha Olga's probably pretty turned on" is harassment. You have singled her out. You are making an intentional choice. You are persisting.

Cat and I do this panel called "In Conversation" that's sort of like "An Evening With Kevin Smith" with more boobs. We always provide a program book description that says, flat out, that we will swear, that we will answer all questions, that no topics are off the table. So no, you don't get to attend our panel and then say we harassed you with our swearing. But if we have that same conversation in the lobby, and won't stop, and get louder when asked to stop, you are right to involve the convention staff. You have a right to feel safe. You have a right to be allowed to participate freely in your community.

I've used "you" throughout this post both to avoid gendering the subject, and to make this point: If you, the reader, think that a convention where you can be asked not to make rape jokes at panelists, not to lay hands on people who have asked you (either aloud or with their actions) to leave them alone, and to treat everyone else as a human being who has a right to the ball, if you think that this convention sounds like political correctness gone awry and something you want no part in, good.

Stay home.

My friend Elise Matthesen asked me to post this; the words below are hers. I agreed because this is important information for every member of our community to be aware of.

Because this is a guest post, I will be watching the comments carefully for signs of incivility, but will not be responding to all comments.

Thank you for reading.

ETA: The contact list mentioned below is at http://www.jimchines.com/2012/07/reporting-sexual-harassment-in-sff-2/

***

How To Report Sexual Harassment, by Elise Matthesen.

We're geeks. We learn things and share, right? Well, this year at WisCon I learned firsthand how to report sexual harassment. In case you ever need or want to know, here's what I learned and how it went.

Two editors I knew were throwing a book release party on Friday night at the convention. I was there, standing around with a drink talking about Babylon 5, the work of China Mieville, and Marxist theories of labor (like you do) when an editor from a different house joined the conversation briefly and decided to do the thing that I reported. A minute or two after he left, one of the hosts came over to check on me. I was lucky: my host was alert and aware. On hearing what had happened, he gave me the name of a mandated reporter at the company the harasser was representing at the convention.

The mandated reporter was respectful and professional. Even though I knew them, reporting this stuff is scary, especially about someone who's been with a company for a long time, so I was really glad to be listened to. Since the incident happened during Memorial Day weekend, I was told Human Resources would follow up with me on Tuesday.

There was most of a convention between then and Tuesday, and I didn't like the thought of more of this nonsense (there's a polite word for it!) happening, so I went and found a convention Safety staffer. He asked me right away whether I was okay and whether I wanted someone with me while we talked or would rather speak privately. A friend was nearby, a previous Guest of Honor at the convention, and I asked her to stay for the conversation. The Safety person asked whether I'd like to make a formal report. I told him, "I'd just like to tell you what happened informally, I guess, while I figure out what I want to do."

It may seem odd to hesitate to make a formal report to a convention when one has just called somebody's employer and begun the process of formally reporting there, but that's how it was. I think I was a little bit in shock. (I kept shaking my head and thinking, "Dude, seriously??") So the Safety person closed his notebook and listened attentively. Partway through my account, I said, "Okay, open your notebook, because yeah, this should be official." Thus began the formal report to the convention. We listed what had happened, when and where, the names of other people who were there when it happened, and so forth. The Safety person told me he would be taking the report up to the next level, checked again to see whether I was okay, and then went.

I had been nervous about doing it, even though the Safety person and the friend sitting with us were people I have known for years. Sitting there, I tried to imagine how nervous I would have been if I were twenty-some years old and at my first convention. What if I were just starting out and had been hoping to show a manuscript to that editor? Would I have thought this kind of behavior was business as usual? What if I were afraid that person would blacklist me if I didn't make nice and go along with it? If I had been less experienced, less surrounded by people I could call on for strength and encouragement, would I have been able to report it at all?

Well, I actually know the answer to that one: I wouldn't have. I know this because I did not report it when it happened to me in my twenties. I didn't report it when it happened to me in my forties either. There are lots of reasons people might not report things, and I'm not going to tell someone they're wrong for choosing not to report. What I intend to do by writing this is to give some kind of road map to someone who is considering reporting. We're geeks, right? Learning something and sharing is what we do.

So I reported it to the convention. Somewhere in there they asked, "Shall we use your name?" I thought for a millisecond and said, "Oh, hell yes."

This is an important thing. A formal report has a name attached. More about this later.

The Safety team kept checking in with me. The coordinators of the convention were promptly involved. Someone told me that since it was the first report, the editor would not be asked to leave the convention. I was surprised it was the first report, but hey, if it was and if that's the process, follow the process. They told me they had instructed him to keep away from me for the rest of the convention. I thanked them.

Starting on Tuesday, the HR department of his company got in touch with me. They too were respectful and took the incident very seriously. Again I described what, where and when, and who had been present for the incident and aftermath. They asked me if I was making a formal report and wanted my name used. Again I said, "Hell, yes."

Both HR and Legal were in touch with me over the following weeks. HR called and emailed enough times that my husband started calling them "your good friends at HR." They also followed through on checking with the other people, and did so with a promptness that was good to see.

Although their behavior was professional and respectful, I was stunned when I found out that mine was the first formal report filed there as well. From various discussions in person and online, I knew for certain that I was not the only one to have reported inappropriate behavior by this person to his employer. It turned out that the previous reports had been made confidentially and not through HR and Legal. Therefore my report was the first one, because it was the first one that had ever been formally recorded.

Corporations (and conventions with formal procedures) live and die by the written word. "Records, or it didn't happen" is how it works, at least as far as doing anything official about it. So here I was, and here we all were, with a situation where this had definitely happened before, but which we had to treat as if it were the first time -- because for formal purposes, it was.

I asked whether people who had originally made confidential reports could go ahead and file formal ones now. There was a bit of confusion around an erroneous answer by someone in another department, but then the person at Legal clearly said that "the past is past" is not an accurate summation of company policy, and that she (and all the other people listed in the company's publically-available code of conduct) would definitely accept formal reports regardless of whether the behavior took place last week or last year.

If you choose to report, I hope this writing is useful to you. If you're new to the genre, please be assured that sexual harassment is NOT acceptable business-as-usual. I have had numerous editors tell me that reporting harassment will NOT get you blacklisted, that they WANT the bad apples reported and dealt with, and that this is very important to them, because this kind of thing is bad for everyone and is not okay. The thing is, though, that I'm fifty-two years old, familiar with the field and the world of conventions, moderately well known to many professionals in the field, and relatively well-liked. I've got a lot of social credit. And yet even I was nervous and a little in shock when faced with deciding whether or not to report what happened. Even I was thinking, "Oh, God, do I have to? What if this gets really ugly?"

But every time I got that scared feeling in my guts and the sensation of having a target between my shoulder blades, I thought, "How much worse would this be if I were inexperienced, if I were new to the field, if I were a lot younger?" A thousand times worse. So I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders and said, "Hell, yes, use my name." And while it's scary to write this now, and while various people are worried that parts of the Internet may fall on my head, I'm going to share the knowledge -- because I'm a geek, and that's what we do.

So if you need to report this stuff, the following things may make it easier to do so. Not easy, because I don't think it's gotten anywhere near easy, but they'll probably help.

NOTES: As soon as you can, make notes on the following:

- what happened
- when it happened and where
- who else was present (if anyone)
- any other possibly useful information

And take notes as you go through the process of reporting: write down who you talk with in the organization to which you are reporting, and when.

ALLIES: Line up your support team. When you report an incident of sexual harassment to a convention, it is fine to take a friend with you. A friend can keep you company while you make a report to a company by phone or in email. Some allies can help by hanging out with you at convention programming or parties or events, ready to be a buffer in case of unfortunate events -- or by just reminding you to eat, if you're too stressed to remember. If you're in shock, please try to tell your allies this, and ask for help if you can.

NAVIGATION: If there are procedures in place, what are they? Where do you start to make a report and how? (Finding out might be a job to outsource to allies.) Some companies have current codes of conduct posted on line with contact information for people to report harassment to. Jim Hines posted a list of contacts at various companies a while ago. Conventions should have a safety team listed in the program book. Know the difference between formal reports and informal reports. Ask what happens next with your report, and whether there will be a formal record of it, or whether it will result in a supervisor telling the person "Don't do that," but will be confidential and will not be counted formally.

REPORTING FORMALLY: This is a particularly important point. Serial harassers can get any number of little talking-to's and still have a clear record, which means HR and Legal can't make any disciplinary action stick when formal reports do finally get made. This is the sort of thing that can get companies really bad reputations, and the ongoing behavior hurts everybody in the field. It is particularly poisonous if the inappropriate behavior is consistently directed toward people over whom the harasser has some kind of real or perceived power: an aspiring writer may hesitate to report an editor, for instance, due to fear of economic harm or reprisal.

STAY SAFE: You get to choose what to do, because you're the only one who knows your situation and what risks you will and won't take. If not reporting is what you need to do, that's what you get to do, and if anybody gives you trouble about making that choice to stay safe, you can sic me on them. Me, I've had a bunch of conversations with my husband, and I've had a bunch of conversations with other people, and I hate the fact that I'm scared that there might be legal wrangling (from the person I'd name, not the convention or his employer) if I name names. But after all those conversations, I'm not going to. Instead, I'm writing the most important part, about how to report this, and make it work, which is so much bigger than one person's distasteful experience.

So hello! Good morning, and welcome to the many people who have shown up over the weekend. Here are a few things you might want to know, as you're deciding whether or not to stick around.

1. This is not a social issues blog. Mostly, it's about writing, my cats, and me doing stupid things in the interest of not being bored out of my skull. Because I have very strong feelings about a lot of social issues, they do crop up from time to time, but they're not my focus. Rage is exhausting. I try to focus on happier things, like that new rabies/Ebola virus that's started melting people while being inexplicable and impossible to cure. It's the little things in life.

2. I write urban fantasy under my own name, and science fiction medical thrillers under the name Mira Grant. The first books in my urban fantasy series are Rosemary and Rue (for the October Daye series), and Discount Armageddon (for my InCryptid series). There's also a lot of free fiction on my website, mostly in the Velveteen vs. superhero universe and the InCryptid universe, so you can try things if you want to see whether you like them.

3. I have OCD, in the literal, medically diagnosed sense, not in the joking "that was a little OCD of me" sense. This translates to a love of lists, both to do and to generate (hence this entry). I will occasionally do things that don't make much sense, like my insistence on answering every top-level comment I receive. Don't worry about it. I do my best not to make my problems anyone else's concern, and will let you know if there's a problem.

4. I do not ban people, but I do ask them to play nicely. Because I have a full-time day job, sometimes I can't clean up the comments as quickly as I want to. Please don't take a comment appearing as a sign of authorial approval. If it's inappropriate, rude, or over the line, I'll speak up as soon as I get the chance.

5. Cumulatively, my three cats weigh as much as a small golden retriever, and none of them are overweight. Jim Hines once said that I took my cats very seriously. This is because they can eat me. This is also why I tend to respond to "I just bought your book" with "thank you for feeding my cats." I do not wish to be eaten.

Again, welcome. You are all welcome to stay, and while I hope you will, I will not be hurt if you choose to go. It's a big internet, and we'd all explode if we tried to pay attention to absolutely everything.

Happy Monday!

Click the thumbnail to see the details!

Wicked Girls being nominated for a Hugo Award made me stop and think about just how many wonderful, wicked girls I know. This comic is just a few of them. (Seriously. Every girl I drew, I realized two more I had forgotten.)

Top row, left to right: Seanan, Vixy, Erin, Kate, Amy, Patty.
Second row, left to right: Rachel, Kaja, Brooke, Betsy (with Arial).
Third row, left to right: Devany, Teddy, Kirsten, Morgan, Emily, Torrey.
Fourth row, left to right: Jude (with Frost), Tara, Bear (with GRD), Catherynne.
Bottom row, left to right: Beckett, Teddy, Tara, Vixy, Seanan, Amy, Dr. Mary, Kate.

I am sorry I couldn't fit more people into a single sheet of paper. You are all, forever and always, amazing.

I was recently talking to a friend* of mine who is also a writer about inclusion and inclusiveness in fiction. He was frustrated. Why did people keep asking him to include a non-heterosexual character in a starring role in his work? After all, he'd said that non-hetero characters existed, and were actually the norm. It was right there, in black and white. So why wasn't that enough?

My first reaction was, naturally, "It's not enough because it's not enough." But at the end of the day, that reaction isn't enough, either. He was trying. He wanted to understand. So I figured I should try, too.

I explained how, when I was a kid, the only smart blondes I could find were Marilyn Munster and Susan Storm. How I wound up identifying with the Midwich Cuckoos, rather than the humans who they were threatening, because the Cuckoos looked like me and were isolated like me and no one understood them. How, as I got older and realized that what I wanted wasn't necessarily the kind of marriage my mother had, every gay character became a magical revelation—even the ones I would look at now and think of as stereotyped and cardboard. It was enough for me that they were there.

I don't think I saw bisexuals in fiction until I encountered ElfQuest. I definitely didn't encounter them in sympathetic roles, where they were allowed to be people first, and define their sexuality second. It was honestly a revelation to me.

I explained how important to me these characters were, first because they looked like me, and then because they were like me, and how it mattered for them to have a bigger part in the story than just "oh, honest, blondes and bisexuals exist, we keep them all in Australia because they really like the tax situation there." It wasn't that I didn't want straight while males having leading roles. I just wanted them to share.

I read three books recently where race and sexuality were just sort of there. They didn't change the shape of the story, although they were treated fairly and reasonably (and awesomely) by the author. One, Black Blade Blues, was an urban fantasy with an awesome blacksmith heroine who just happens to be a lesbian, and have a girlfriend. And while she had some personal issues to work through (which made her a compelling, relatable character), her story was still recognizably an urban fantasy story, with all the tropes and twists of the genre. The second, Storyteller, was science fiction/fantasy in the Pern style, where you have extremely advanced technology and fascinating aliens, but you're spending most of your time on a low-tech planet that might as well be a fantasy world. One of the central characters is gay; so are several secondary characters. None of them are treated in any way as either superior or inferior to the rest of the cast.

The last, The Hum and the Shiver, dealt more with race than sexuality, although it was notable for having a strong female lead who really enjoyed sex, had really enjoyed sex in the past, and was not in any way ashamed of herself for being a sexual being. It's not a sexy book; she actually has no sex during the book, for reasons the plot makes very clear. But she's not punished for who she is. One of the secondary characters is married to a Southern-raised Asian woman. Why? Because that was who she was. It's not a thing. It's never a thing. It's awesome.

He was still a little confused, so I tried another tack: in my Faerie, in Toby's Faerie, as far as I'm concerned, almost everyone immortal is also bisexual. People who are purely straight or purely gay are almost entirely changelings, and young changelings, at that. Out of the entire current cast, the only one I can point to and say "Yup, totally straight" is Toby, who was raised in the mortal 1950s, and never really considered girls as an option. Everyone else is bi. Yes, him. Yes, him, too. Yes, her. I'm not sure it counts in Lily's case, since she's a body of water that enjoys looking like a person, but she doesn't care about the gender of her meat-based lovers. So yes, even her.

Most fae marriages, on the other hand, are male/female, because the main motivator for fae marriage is having kids, and surrogacy isn't really an option when it takes three hundred years of steady marital relations to reliably get someone pregnant. So if you look at the first several books, everyone looks straight. I was too close to the material to realize that. I knew about Amandine's relationship with Lily, the Luidaeg's long-term Selkie lover, and lots of others. No one else did. What was on the page was heteronormative male/female love, over and over again, in all its good and bad forms.

As soon as I recognized that, I started making more of an effort to actually show the non-hetero relationships in the books. Not because I owed anyone anything. Not because I was pressured. Because saying they were there wasn't enough. It's never enough. We need to see those people, in part because for every kid like me, combing the margins for hidden people I could relate to, there are ten kids who just calmly accepted than yes, they were always going to be the protagonist. Mix it up. Make it different. Make us all learn to identify with other people, and take out the shadows. I learned to identify with straight white males because I had to, and I clung to my narrow band of options. How about we widen the spectrum until everybody gets the chance to learn to identify with everybody? Because that would be awesome.

I explained all this to my friend. I think he understood. And even if he didn't, he's thinking about it now, and he's smart; he'll get there.

I'll be waiting for him.

(*I won't name him, because that's not the point, and he's a damn good guy. He just hadn't thought some things through. Everyone has had their instances of not thinking things through, and it's easier when you're a middle-class white male with no particular religious affiliation. Everyone is you unless stated otherwise, in fiction. So please don't ask who my friend was, and I won't be forced to look at you sadly.)

Hey, kids. Wanna see something awesome? Well, this coming Sunday, I will be performing as part of the Geek Fest Concert and Vendor Fair, hosted by the Seattle Browncoats.

Music! From such luminaries as Vixy and Tony, Betsy Tinney, Sunnie Larson, the Doubleclicks, and Eben Brooks (and more! MUCH MORE!). Oh, and me. I'll be performing with my usual Seattle backing band, and it's going to be AWESOME.

Vendors! Are you looking for that perfect gift for your geeky sweetie? Well, this is your chance to buy directly from the creator, cutting out silly little things like "shipping" and "waiting for the mail." Again, it's going to be AWESOME.

Admission is a mere $10 ticket, granting you full access to the concert and the vendors. Food and drinks will be available for sale. The whole shindig is going to be indoors, so we're not going to get rained on, and your admission will go to a great cause. Support geeky pursuits, the Seattle Browncoats, and the randomness of me flying to Seattle for a one-day event, and show up for the Geek Fest!

Hope to see you there!

My planned Newsflesh novella for 2012 is a little piece entitled "San Diego 2014: The Last Stand and Final Fall of the California Browncoats." It's the story of what really happened when the Rising came to the San Diego International Comic Convention. Blood will spill, heads will roll, and a wonderful time will be had by all. The story will be set largely in 2014, with some modern-day narration and stitch-together from Mahir Gowda and Lorelei Tutt.

Where do you come in? Well...

The California Browncoats are auctioning off two Tuckerizations in this story, to benefit Equality Now. You can find details, and a link to the auction, in their original post. The first Tuckerization auction is live now; the second will be going live on November 20th.

What do you get if you win? Well:

1. I will write you into the story.
2. You will die horribly.
3. It will be awesome.

Also, if there is ever a printed edition of "San Diego 2014," I will supply two copies to the California Browncoats, signed, to be delivered to the winners of these auctions. This is one of the biggest tragedies in the history of the Newsflesh universe, and you have a chance to be a part of it. Literally. I mean, you can die.

Questions? Ask 'em here! And consider wanting a little zombie mayhem for your holiday season.

I asked Mom if we could go by the mall tonight after I got off work. "Sure," she said. "What for?" I told her there was a store I'd heard about called "Justice," and that they might have Monster High dolls. Mom, who is endlessly tolerant in some ways, thought this was a fine idea, and away we went.

Now, for the last month or so, we've been haunting the usual stores looking for the new beach assortment, the ghoulishly-named "Skull Shores." There are five dolls in the assortment, four of which have been released (the fifth, Draculaura, will be joining the set in the next wave of releases. This keeps you coming back to the shelves, even when you think you're done). We hadn't been able to find any of them.

We reached the mall, parked, and made our way to the Justice...where I immediately found all four currently available Skull Shores dolls, AND several Toralei dolls (the werecat I recently had wonderful people hunt for in Australia). I gleefully grabbed one of each of the Skull Shores dolls and, after a moment's consideration, snagged a Toralei as well. I wanted to compare her paint to the Australian version of the same doll.

Now, Mom and I go to Toys R Us a lot. I mean a lot. So we've come to know the people who work there pretty well, and one of them, M., also buys Monster High, for his little girl. Her favorite is Abbey Bominable, who is damn hard to find, and the reason that her father has also been awaiting Skull Shores anxiously. After a little more consideration, we grabbed a second Abbey. I paid for my toys (40% off the whole store!), and we decamped for the Toys R Us.

We took Abbey and Toralei inside, Abbey for M., Toralei to show the manager, since he's had people asking for her. M. was on lunch, and the manager said we might be able to find him outside. We went looking. Upon finding him, I thrust Abbey at him, going "Look!" He was very excited, since, well. Hell hath no nagging like a little girl in want of a specific toy. I explained that I hadn't found her inside, but we'd grabbed a second in case he needed her. He stared, and said (without handing back the doll—I think I would've lost fingers) that he had no cash on him. I affirmed that I knew where he worked.

Happiest. Dad. EVER.

I showed him the Toralei, so he'd know what she looked like. He asked, excited, whether they had another of her, too...so I handed him the Toralei. Dude, I have mine, and I am happy to play toy mule for actual small children. Tomorrow, I shall return to Toys R Us to get reimbursed for toys, and tonight, when he returns home, M. shall be a hero.

Karma is important. Pass it along.