On #OwnVoices in Gay Fantasy – A Look at Recent and New Data

I recently received a comment on my 2016 report on the State of #OwnVoices in Gay Fantasy. Then, I saw a lot of Twitter chatter about #OwnVoices in response to Helene Dunbar’s upcoming YA title about a gay boy coming of age in the early years of the AIDS epidemic, of which she made the unfortunate claim that no such stories have ever been written before.

Then, I saw an author sharing a list of #OwnVoices titles in adult fantasy to make the excellent point that the YA community has organized well to bring attention to diverse authors, but the adult fantasy world, not so much. (And sadly, to that point, I promptly lost the reference on my Twitter feed. Maybe the thread disappeared.)

All of that was enough to push me to revisit the topic and share some of my latest thoughts.

I won’t rehash all the data from my first look at #OwnVoices since you can read the (fairly) short article here. In brief, I looked at authorship of gay fantasy titles across three dimensions: popular books, recommended books, and award-nominated books. For popular books, I took data from two Listopia lists: Best Fantasy Books with Gay Main Characters, and Best Sci Fi Books with Gay Main Characters. For recommended books, I took data from the ALA’s Over the Rainbow Lists for Young Adults and for Adults. For award nominated books, I took data from the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards and the Lambda Literary awards (the Lammys) for Best SFF/Horror.

#OwnVoices titles ranged from zero to forty-four percent, and were more likely to be found in award-nominated and recommended lists. My analysis included data from the period of 2012 through 2016. I didn’t drill down on intersectionality, i.e. titles written by gay authors of color, though my guess would surely be the tiny slice of titles by those authors is quite troubling. I’m just a little wary about trying to quantify that with accuracy, and I don’t have the resources to survey authors. It’s become somewhat of a norm for gay authors to say they’re gay (or have a husband) in their bios, but not so much that they’re black or white or Asian, etc.

So now it’s a little over one year later. Has anything changed? Can we glean anything more by looking at other sources? These were my curiosities, so I took another look.

Goodreads’ Listopia lists are established by reader votes as well as the number of ratings and the average rating for each title. From my periodic perusal, they don’t change so dramatically from year-to-year. But to the extent new titles come out all the time and can shuffle things around a bit, I thought it was worthwhile to look at the same lists I analyzed back in 2016.

In 2016, the top 100 titles in Best Fantasy Books with Gay Main Characters included five #OwnVoices titles and four titles by authors whose sexual identity I could not determine. So, somewhere between five to nine percent were #OwnVoices.

My snapshot of the same list from a couple of days ago included eight #OwnVoices titles and one title by an author whose sexual identity I could not determine. As in 2016, none of those titles were in the top 10. Only one was in the top 40 actually (Jesse Hajicek’s The God Eaters). This shows a slight improvement, I guess. #OwnVoices are up to eight to nine percent of popular gay fantasy titles on Goodreads versus five to nine percent in 2016.

In 2016, the top 100 titles in Best Sci Fi Books with Gay Main Characters included twenty-two #OwnVoices titles and three undetermined titles. My more recent look: twelve #OwnVoices titles and seven I could not determine. That’s a drop from 22-25% to 12-19%. The results from that list are even more dismal when you consider some of the highest-ranked titles are popular sci fi books that don’t even have gay or bi lead characters, e.g. Frank Herbert’s Dune?

But, onward we go.

To expand my survey of popular titles, I bit the bullet and looked at an Amazon Best Seller list. I’d been skeptical about using that data source since gay fiction bestsellers on Amazon are notoriously strange, overrepresenting titles from their self-publishing platform, and heavily skewed toward erotica, regardless of the purported categorization.

Another problem is the ranking algorithm favors recent releases as it relies on predictive data. Many of us authors have experienced a new release popping up at the top of the charts because books get the most sales around release time. But Amazon treats that as a predictor of how many sales the title will get on an hourly basis, and typically over weeks, months, or years certainly, that once best-selling title takes a dramatic plunge in the charts based on actual buying behavior over time.

I’m still a bit skeptical about what the data tells us, but I thought it would be interesting to take a look at the titles and authors. So I pulled up one list, which is of course just a snapshot in time: Top 100 Best Sellers in LGBT Fantasy.

While there are a few L and T titles included, it definitely leans heavily toward stories with gay or bisexual male leads. I only considered those books when parsing out #OwnVoices titles.

I found eight #OwnVoices titles in the top 100. Twelve others appeared to be written by men, but I couldn’t determine if they were gay or bisexual.

A brief aside: This time around, I was slightly less assiduous in researching author sexual identity while also more conservative about counting an author as gay or bisexual. For one thing, when an author’s bio doesn’t say he’s “openly gay/bi,” it’s tedious work, combing through the media surrounding each author, looking for mentions of a husband or a coming out story. For another, the use of author pen names and fictional identities makes the research even tougher, and sometimes unreliable, with the stark possibility there are even fewer titles written by gay/bisexual male authors. (FYI, I had counted Santino Hassell’s books as #OwnVoices in my last report).

My conclusion, however questionably supported, is that Amazon best seller titles trend similarly to popular gay SFF on Goodreads: between 5-20% are #OwnVoices.

Next, taking a look at recommended lists.

ALA’s GLBT Roundtable had thirteen gay/bi male SFF titles on its Over the Rainbow List for Young Adults during the period of 2012-2016. Three of those were #OwnVoices. Their Over the Rainbow List for Adults had only seven gay/bi male SFF titles in the same time period and three were #OwnVoices. Overall, #Ownvoices made up a 30 percent share.

For 2017, the list for Young Adults included four gay/bi SFF titles. Two were by Rick Riordan. The other two were #Ownvoices. The Roundtable chose zero gay/bi SFF titles to include on its 2017 recommended list for adults. That list favors contemporary coming out stories, especially in underrepresented communities.

I tried to find another decent source to analyze recommended gay SFF titles, but it’s really the wild west out there on the interwebs. I mean, there are a lot of click-bait articles like “Seven must-read fantasy books with kick-ass queer heros/heroines,” but they’re so idiosyncratic and in some cases self-promoting, they don’t seem worth analyzing. If you’ve got an idea about where I should be looking, let me know.

Now for the major awards programs in queer SFF. Shockingly and disappointingly, Gaylactic continues to not be able to find a single #OwnVoices gay/bi male SFF title worthy of their consideration. I mean zero. They had zero from 2012-2015, and they had zero in their most recent (2016) awards program.

Lambda Literary Foundation does better. They had 44 percent #OwnVoices titles in their short lists for Best SFF/Horror 2012-2016. 2017 is a different story.

Now I should say, the number of Lammy SFF/Horror finalists for 2017 is small: eight titles; and it’s a mix of lesbian-themed, bisexual-themed, transgender-themed, non-binary themed, and gay-themed titles that all sound fascinating, worthy of recognition, and nicely representative of authors of color. Also, they favor titles with overlapping themes that explore gender in really interesting ways and in many cases include all kinds of variations of same-sex and poly and “queer” relationships (human/android for instance in Annalee Newitz’ Autonomous). They lean, of course, toward literary fiction versus genre fiction, and I’d say style/high concept versus action-adventure/plot-driven works.

So, my analysis was a little knottier, but based on four of the titles that feature a leading gay male oriented character (often along with other non-traditional gender constructions and lesbian characters) and based on only one of those titles being authored by a self-identified gay man, I’m saying 25% of their finalists are #OwnVoices.

This may be a good time to step back from the data and reconsider the question: why is #OwnVoices in gay SFF important? I mean, on one hand, you could say that queer representation in the genre has increased, such that readers can more easily find books by popular authors about queer people, some by household names. Rick Riordan is one example.

Furthermore, you could say SFF by definition is experimental and exploratory (speculative). SFF stories have stepped outside of gender/sexuality norms for decades, led by big name authors like Robert Heinlein, Ursula Le Guin and Samuel Delaney. Then, you could also say we’re happily beginning to see greater representation of non-binary, trans, poly, lesbian, queer people of color—all of which have been overlooked in SFF to a far greater extent than gay or bi male portrayals.  Lambda’s choices of finalists may reflect an effort to elevate those stories and those voices, and I’d say it’s appropriate for white, gay, cis gender male authors, and our titles to step aside for the sake of cultural fairness. #OwnVoices is, after all, a movement to redress historical barriers to publication.

Related to that point, you could say, if you look at gay/bi male authorship more broadly in the fiction world, and specifically at white, cis gender, gay male authors, there’s evidence that we face less barriers to publication, recognition, and awards than other writers beneath the QuILTBAG umbrella. Take for instance this year’s Pulitzer Prize winner for fiction: Andrew Sean Green. Many of the most successful authors writing LGBT YA are white, gay, cis gender men as well: David Levithan and Bill Konigsberg, for example. Historically, white men have been privileged in the publishing industry and continue to be. White, gay, cis gender male authors benefit from that privilege, so redistributing power to female, lesbian, trans, and non-binary authors, especially those of color, is important from a social justice perspective.

For all those reasons, you could argue the #OwnVoices cause lacks relevance for gay, cis gender male titles, just as few would argue we need more hetero, cis gender male titles written by hetero, cis gender men in order to even the scales. And I do think that point-of-view is important to the discussion.

Though I also think something different has happened in queer SFF, and it’s unrelated to the publishing industry’s intentional elevation of underrepresented queer voices, which is slowly occurring in contemporary adult fiction and YA. If that were the case, we’d see a queer SFF landscape that includes a diverse range of queer authors: gay, transgender, lesbian, bi, black, Latinx, Asian, Native, etc., and while there’s some evidence of that via awards programs (and to a limited extent in ALA’s curated titles), the authorship of popular queer SFF titles, which are naturally in the broadest distribution, is not so inclusive, and has never favored gay/bi male authors, even as gay/bi characters are much more common than other queer portrayals.

Pre-1990s I’d say, with wonderful, notable exceptions like Samuel Delaney, gay/bi portayals predominantly came from best-selling, heterosexual male and female authors (Richard Heinlein, Ursula Le Guin, Marion Zimmer Bradley, among others), and that tradition is still a factor in whose gay/bi stories get published (Ian McDonald, C.S. Pascat, Cassandra Clare, as some more recent examples). In the late 90s and early 2000s, female-authored “M/M” romance/erotica emerged as an important market, with popular subgenres in romantic sci fi and fantasy, and nowadays M/M fantasy is the most prolific, sought-after category of queer SFF, which has implications for what kinds of titles get published, what kinds of authors get published, and even how we talk about queer literature.

It’s not just an issue for SFF. One recent example is LGBTQ advocates’ reaction to Helene Dunbar’s upcoming title.

 

Um, #OwnVoices M/M YA? I realize M/M has become shorthand for stories with gay male characters, but using that terminology in the #OwnVoices context is kind of absurdly problematic.  M/M was created as homoeroticism “by and for women.” I’ll link in some references here:

“W4M4M?” a 2010 Out Magazine article, which humorously includes commentary by “Josh Lanyon, one of the M/M genres few male authors.”

“Is MM Romance Cultural Appropriation?” by Mary Grace, including the point: “[M/M romance] isn’t about gay men.”

What I fear many younger authors don’t understand is M/M was never intended to be a space for gay male authors to write about their own communities. And that before and after M/M existed, gay authors have been writing gay stories that some of us still call gay fiction, or gay romance, or gay fantasy, etc., because, well, they’re stories about gay people. The idea that gay authors need to be uplifted in the M/M fiction market, or need help ‘breaking into’ it, is a rather frightening statement on our positionality in the gay publishing industry.

All right. I’m going to very consciously set aside my personal feelings about M/M and focus instead on the story told by the data. Instead of looking at titles that are popular, win awards, and are otherwise recognized as merit-worthy, what about looking directly at the lists of titles coming out from publishers?

The biggest publishers of SFF, Tor and Gollanz for example, are unfortunately difficult to analyze because their output is so large, and at least as far as I’ve been able to determine, no one is quantifying the number of queer titles that get released on an annual basis. I spent some time on publisher websites, trying to use their search fields to call up titles with keywords like “gay” and “queer.” They’re not set up to generate the kind of information I’m looking for. For example, a search of “gay” at Tor’s webstore inexplicably brings up blog entries about “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” So, not so useful.

The main small presses that publish queer SFF have websites that are much more conducive to my purposes. You can browse titles by genre or ‘pairing,’ and see every title in their recent releases and backlist. So I looked at two of the biggest publishers of queer SFF in the small press world: Dreamspinner and Pride Publishing. There are others for sure, like Blind Eye Press, Bold Strokes Books, Less Than Three, and NineStar Press, but their collective output is dwarfed by those two big publishers with regard to SFF.

Dreamspinner published 100 gay SFF titles from October 5, 2016 – May 15, 2018, which is a pretty impressive output for a little over a year and a half period. Of those titles, I found fourteen which could be confirmed as authored by gay/bisexual male authors, and half of those were by two authors: Eric Arvin and T.J. Klune. I found four titles by authors who identified as male but whose sexuality I could not confirm. The upshot: 14-18 percent of Dreamspinner’s gay SFF titles were #OwnVoices.

Pride Publishing has a smaller output and tags their titles a little differently. I pulled up their last 100 gay fantasy/fairytales or gay sci fi titles, which covered the period of 2013-2018.

Just one author in that list appears to be male, and I could not determine that author’s sexuality. Thus, between zero and 1 percent of Pride Publishing’s gay SFF titles are #OwnVoices.

I think that data is a pretty good indicator that very few small press gay SFF titles are #OwnVoices. I didn’t take the time to analyze the content of the titles, but I’ll just say, unscientifically, based on the cover art, there is a preponderance of titles that are marketed as romance/erotica (M/M). But that would make for a good follow-up question to explore: how many gay SFF titles are first and foremost M/M romance versus SFF? Additionally: how many gay SFF titles feature characters of color and how many are written by gay/bi authors of color?

I’d love to come up with a way to analyze gay SFF in mainstream publishing, quantifying how many titles Tor and Gallanz and Penguin are putting out each year and take a look at authorship. Those publishers represent the harder, more epic, more adventure-driven edge of SFF, and it would great to say with some authority if #OwnVoices titles fare better or worse there. If anyone has any ideas that might be less tedious than analyzing their entire list of SFF titles, toss them my way!

I also think good information could be collected by doing a survey of gay/bisexual male authors as well as publishers of gay SFF. That would provide some data on racial diversity, who’s represented in publishing houses, and what concerns authors and publishers themselves have about #OwnVoices.

As a starting point, if you’re a gay/bisexual male author or a publisher of gay SFF, feel free to drop me a comment or an e-mail if you prefer.

On the state of #Ownvoices in queer SFF: A look at popularity, library recs and awards

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Most of us would agree that diversity and inclusion are good things. Perhaps especially in science fiction and fantasy (SFF), a white, cisgender, heterosexual male perspective has dominated the genre since the days of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells,  and largely neglected fully-formed portrayals of women, people of color, and LGBTs, among other marginalized groups. Cultural marginalization creates political marginalization, and vice versa, so when all we see and read in SFF are worlds with white, male heroes, often populated solely by white people, it reinforces the belief that the dominant culture is superior, and the only norm; the rest of us are the “others.”

That tradition has changed somewhat through the success of celebrated female authors like Ursula LeGuin and Margaret Atwood and authors of color like Octavia Butler and Samuel Delany. Recently, N.K. Jemisin became the first black, female author to win the Hugo award for a novel, and three of the five titles that were shortlisted in 2016 were written by women. The annual output of SFF has become more diverse in terms of gender, ethnicity, sexuality and other characteristics, but surveys show we still have a long way to go to bring representations of people of color, women, and LGBTs out of the margins.

It’s hard to find data outside of the YA world, where, for good reason, a lot of the attention to diversity has been placed. The YA data I did find may or may not reflect the state of diversity in SFF as a whole.

For example, the Cooperative Children’s Book Center tracks a rising number of SFF books about people of color over the past few years, though in the last recorded year (2015), those books represented a little less than fifteen percent of all SFF releases. Regarding LGBT diversity, Malinda Lo’s most recent (2014) LGBT YA by the Numbers also showed a growing, yet still disappointing number of SFF releases about LGBTs: a total of seventeen in 2014.

CCBC also tracks how many SFF books are written by people of color, and that share is even smaller at ten percent. That gap in authorship is one of the reasons behind the #OwnVoices hashtag.

Started by YA author Corinne Duyvis in 2015, #OwnVoices was created to uplift books about marginalized groups that are written by authors who are members of that marginalized group. In addition to concerns about depth of characterization and accuracy, Duyvis says her interest in #OwnVoices grew out a collective concern that many minority authors who write about their own communities experience marginalization within the publishing industry, in the form of less recognition, lower advances, and less promotion than their privileged peers who garner kudos for writing diverse characters.

#Ownvoices supporter Ellen Oh tweeted home the point with the example: “Everyone knows Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden but not Geisha of Gion by Mineko Iwasaki.” In terms of queer SFF, you might say: everyone knows the gay wizard Dumbledore, created by J.K. Rowling, but not the gay wizard Jessex, created by Jim Grimsley (that observation is especially depressing since Rowling didn’t even write the character as gay, but she was lauded for promoting LGBT diversity just by saying she had envisioned him as gay).

Duyvis makes the important distinction that #Ownvoices refers to titles, not the authors themselves, since not all minority authors write about their own communities. It’s also not a campaign against authors outside of minority groups writing about minorities, who are often allies, but rather a campaign for uplifting #Ownvoices titles.

That point is important to me as I segueway into my analysis of #Ownvoices in queer SFF. A good number of authors writing about gay SFF characters, for example, are women, and as I’ve gotten involved in the queer SFF community, I have tremendous gratitude and respect for the many female authors who are my colleagues and my friends and my Twitter and Facebook “buddies.” They are a source of inspiration and have opened up opportunities for me as an author. Maybe it should go without saying, but repeating the point from the paragraph above, my interest in #Ownvoices in queer SFF is not to criticize female authors (or non-gay male authors) who write gay SFF or to suggest that they should not be doing it. I’ve read, and on occasion, participated in online discussions about appropriation and objectification, and I do think those are important conversations for authors and readers to have. The data I compiled, however, does not and is not meant to speak to those issues.

My purpose is to delve deeper into the state of queer diversity in SFF. Good and plentiful portrayals of queer characters are one dimension of progress, and one that many of us would argue could stand for some improvement. But authorship is important to consider as well. Queer authors have historically faced censorship and discrimination in the publishing industry (and beyond) when writing about queer experiences. Authorship is an aspect of diversifying literature that hasn’t been well-explored in a quantifiable way. If efforts to diversify literature seek to promote cultural fairness, I would argue, as #Ownvoices does, then they should acknowledge the differential experiences of privileged and disadvantaged authors who are writing diverse books, and seek to remedy the disparities that exist.

All segments of the queer spectrum need to be considered. I chose gay male SFF as an appropriate starting point because I know that genre most intimately as an author and as a reader, and I also have lived experience as gay man. By compiling some data on how gay SFF #Ownvoices titles fare in the publishing world, my hope is to begin to examine diversity from the perspective of authorship.

It would have been useful to count the number of gay SFF titles published each year by the big houses (Tor, Gollancz, Ace Books) and determine how many were authored by gay men, as a measure of disparity and “status.” Those big house titles have access to trade reviews, wide distribution, marketing, libraries, and awards programs to a far greater extent than small press and self-published titles. Unfortunately, I struggled to find data on the annual output of gay SFF books, and the prospect of researching the many hundreds of releases listed on the publishers’ websites was just too overwhelming; though I’m happy to cheer on anyone who endeavors to do that. 🙂

Malindo Lo’s meticulous investigation of big house titles, just in the YA world, those seventeen LGBT SFF books she found in 2014, are not identified by title or author or L or G or B or T. Lo also noted in her report she couldn’t estimate with accuracy proportionality with respect to the total number of published books due to the complexity of capturing that data.

A little easier to analyze are lists of books that are popular among readers, and recommended lists, and winners and finalists in awards programs. I decided those were decent places to gather data.

Looking at the top 100 books in Goodreads’ Listopia “Best Fantasy Books with Gay Characters,” 89 of the titles are authored by female authors, including the top ten. Of the eleven titles authored by male authors, five are authored by self-identified gay men, two are authored by a self-identified heterosexual man (Richard K. Morgan), and four are authored by men whose sexual identity I could not determine. That’s a rather paltry five, or at best nine percent share by #Ownvoices titles.

My method for determining an author’s gender and sexuality involved looking at biographies for pronouns and mentions of “husbands,” “wives,” or male “partners,” and in some cases delving into media interviews in which the author talked about his sexuality.

The fantasy Listopia leans toward “M/M” category romance titles like Lynn Flewelling’s Nightrunner series and Mercedes Lackey’s Last Herald Mage, so despite its title, the voters may not be so representative of the range of gay SFF readers and buyers.

So I also looked at the top 100 books in Goodreads’ Listopia “Best Science Fiction Books with Gay Characters,” where I found that 69 of the titles were authored by female authors. Twenty-two of the titles were authored by self-identified gay men, six are authored by heterosexual men, and three were authored by men whose sexuality I could not determine. That seems to indicate that sci fi #OwnVoices titles do a little better than their fantasy counterparts, though Goodreads members are still much more aware of, and/or enthusiastic about gay sci fi titles written by non-gay authors.

ALA’s GLBT Roundtable compiles recommended GLBT titles each year, based on “exceptional merit relating to the gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender experience.” I analyzed their lists from the past five years (2012-2016). The Roundtable creates two annual “Over the Rainbow” lists: one for Young Readers and one for Adult Readers (18+). In the past three years, their Adult Readers list did not include any SFF titles. Their Young Readers list has more consistently included works of SFF.

In total, over the past five years, the Roundtable chose thirteen SFF titles featuring gay protagonists or secondary characters for its Young Adult list. Seven gay SFF titles figured into its Adult list for the years 2012 and 2013. Selections from both lists lean toward futuristic, dystopian and short story collections that are reflective of contemporary issues faced by LGBTs like religious and political persecution and coming out.

Out of those twenty selected titles, only six or 30 percent were authored by gay men. The Adult lists favored #Ownvoices titles a little more at 42 percent. The Young Adult lists included just three #Ownvoices titles out of thirteen books or 23 percent: Tim Floreen’s Willful Machines, Steven De Los Santos’ The Culling, and Alex London’s Proxy.

Another source I looked at was the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards. Their picks tend to be more “hard” and high concept SFF rather than M/M or books with educational themes. With its mission to: “honor outstanding works of science fiction, fantasy and horror which include significant positive explorations of gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered characters, themes, or issues,” you would expect to find lots of titles by gay authors on its shortlists, right?

Erm, not exactly. Spectrum nominees include a mix of lesbian, transgender, bisexual and gay male-themed titles, and of the twenty books with gay male protagonist or secondary characters that won awards or were shortlisted by Gaylactic over the past five years (2012-2016), exactly zero were written by gay men. Most were written by women, and two were written by heterosexual men.

Last, I looked at the winners and finalists at Lambda Literary Awards over the same five year period. The Lammys combine SFF and horror into one category, and, like Gaylactic, they don’t separate out the L, G, B or T. I did not consider horror titles in my analysis, and one challenge was that Lambda’s SFF picks lean toward literary speculative fiction, which in some cases defies conventional categorization, e.g. contemporary stories with some surrealistic elements (Robert Levy’s The Glittering World, Craig Laurance Gidney’s Skin Deep Magic) and stories that imagine gender and sexuality in fantastical ways (Mary Anne Mohanraj’s The Stars Change). I decided to include all of their SFF titles that contained some depiction of gay male sexuality, regardless of whether the SFF elements were “light” or “heavy.”

In total, I found eighteen titles that fit those criteria for the period of 2012-2016. Nine of the titles were written by female authors. Eight were written by gay male authors. One was written by a male author whose sexuality I could not determine. The upshot: 44 percent of Lambda’s picks were #Ownvoices titles.

Taken together, my analysis of five data sources seems to indicate that popular, recommended, and award-winning gay SFF titles are significantly more likely to be authored by non-gay authors, primarily women. The highest proportion of #OwnVoices titles I found was 44 percent within Lambda’s shortlist over the past five years. The lowest proportion was zero at Gaylactic.

And, wait for it…I made a chart!

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More research is definitely needed. For example, I’ll be the first to indict my preliminary analysis as one dimensional. I have not as yet taken the time to cross-analyze the titles and authors I found by characteristics like race/ethnicity, which is immensely important to consider. I would hypothesize that #Ownvoices titles by gay men of color receive even less recognition than their white-authored counterparts.

My findings suggest there is indeed a gap between #Ownvoices titles and non-gay authored titles in gay SFF, and that gap appears to run across M/M romance titles (where one might expect to find the biggest disparity), but also, more surprisingly, titles with educational themes, “hard” and high concept SFF, and literary speculative fiction. The results also suggest that gay authors who are writing gay science fiction and literary speculative fiction may be having more success than those who are writing fantasy romance and high concept SFF. It raises a questions worthy of further exploration: why aren’t #Ownvoices gay SFF titles received by readers, librarians, and awards programs with at least the same amount of enthusiasm as gay SFF written by non-gay authors?