Queens LGBT Book Night 2016

lgbtqbn-square-promo

Something very cool happening in November: I’ll be part of the second annual LGBT Queens Book Night, joining a fantastic group of local authors for readings, discussion, Q&A, and general, queer literary hijinks.

If that doesn’t sound fabulous enough to interest you, I thought of a number of reasons why you and every one of your friends, family members, neighbors, coworkers, acquaintances, and Twitter crushes should go.

  1. You’ll hear a preview reading from my just-released title The City of Seven Gods, which is sort of The Persian Boy meets Game of Thrones if they brought along their buddy Gods of Egypt and some hot dude named Gilgamesh showed up, forcing everyone to reconsider their motivations. Now you see why I’m lousy at elevator pitches. Never fear, my talking points get better.
  2. You probably know what you’ll get from me, but there’s something for literarily everyone on the panel. Joe Okonkwo is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and his début novel Jazz Moon is the story of a black, gay poet set against the Harlem Renaissance and Jazz Age Paris. Deborah Emin is the author of the Scags series, which chronicles the coming of age of a young lesbian in the midwest in the 1950s and 1960s. Our curator and moderator Nancy Agabian is a writer, teacher and liteary organizer, whose work has explored Armenian family history and queerness.
  3. Let’s face it. Queer literature is transcendant, subversive, ecstatically affirming, and studies show that it reduces aging by 25-40 percent.
  4. If you’re an aspiring writer, the event is the place to ask us all how we did it, and I promise we won’t be jaded or pompous at all.
  5. Are you single? LGBT community events are a great place to meet that special someone without the shadiness of bars or the pressure of gimmicky dating enterprises. Or, you can double your chances and after the event grab a beer at one of Jackson Heights’ fine drinking establishments.
  6. I’m guessing if you’re here visiting my site, you probably care about the health and sustainability of the LGBT arts community, which creates LGBT visibility, cultural fairness, and political equality, thereby benefiting all of us. LGBT Queens Book Night is an opportunity to think globally and act locally. Coming out to the event supports local writers and builds community!
  7. Last of all, the event is totally free! It’s underwritten by generous sponsors who are listed in the above flyer. You literarily have nothing to lose. (Notice how I cleverly used literarily twice?).

So come on down to Jackson Heights for a great time, and make sure to tell them who sent you (and say hello!).

Some of my favorite tweets from #OutWriters

OutWriters

It’s LGBT Pride month so you can expect things to be a little gayer than usual around here. 😉

Cleis Press, an independent queer publisher, launched the #OutWriters campaign on Twitter to “celebrate the importance of LGBT writing.” Sounded like a damn good idea to me. My publisher Bold Strokes Books has joined in, along with many LGBT/queer authors from the U.S. and beyond. It has inspired some awesome testimonials as well as a nice run of light-hearted humor and generalized frolic.

The idea is to tweet something about why you write LGBT fiction, or why it’s important to you. Here are some of my favorites so far this month.

And of course, here’s one of my own I like a lot.

Queer Portrayals in Books, the “Queer Seismometer” and What Really Impacts Cultural Equality

I have to credit comic writer Dale Lazarov for getting me started on this topic again. He posted a really interesting viewpoint on his Tmblr last week: “In Continuity: why people complain about the lack of gay characters in mainstream comics and why it isn’t about gay characters.”

Archie Comics publishes its first gay kiss

Last year’s advertisement for Archie Comics’ issue featuring gay character Kevin Keller’s first kiss

Lazarov talks about gay characters in comics, but it’s the same debate that goes on in YA and fantasy, and other genres I imagine.

Why aren’t there more LGBT people in books? And: what can we do about it?

I wrote on the topic two years ago in the wake of the #YesGayYA kerfuffle. (“Diversifying Books for Teens: #YesGayYA and Beyond.”) My perspective hasn’t changed that much, but Lazarov hit on some points about gay comics that I’ve often felt in regard to LGBT, or what I prefer to call queer literature. I don’t think I articulated that perspective as stridently as I could.

There’s a tendency to judge the progress of queer visibility by the changes that occur in mainstream publishing. We chart progress by watching the stylus on a queer seismometer. Everyone gets happy and excited when things register in a big way. We lament that most of the time it looks like a barely rippling line.

A Queer Seismometer

A queer seismometer showing an earthquake in queer representations in media; well, that’s my caption taken with liberties

I’ve fallen back on that tendency myself. When Entertainment Weekly ran an article about the cover art for Knopf Books’ upcoming Two Boys Kissing by David Levithanit felt like BIG NEWS. And I’m not saying that it wasn’t big news. But what Lazarov’s article got me thinking about was how the focus on mainstream publishing obscures and — dare I say — marginalizes the longtime efforts of indie publishers, their authors, and self-published authors.

Solutions to the perceived lack of queer books can also do the same thing; and here’s where it can get especially aggravating for queer authors and artists, as Lazarov notes. The common refrain is: if you want to see more queer books, you should buy more queer books. When publishers see sales, they’ll produce more of the books you want.

I’m all for people buying more queer books. But as a strategy for cultural equality, I find it a bit hollow and patronizing. Readers who like books about queer people already buy them. Shelling out our dough to Random House and HarperCollins for their few queer titles hasn’t made much of a difference. We make up 1-2% of their market.

Queer titles crossing over to non-queer readers has made a difference; and by “a difference,” I mean a tiny increase in the number of titles that come out each year by mainstream publishers. We need to acknowledge why that cross-over has happened. It’s because of broader social and cultural changes, well beyond the world of books, and made possible by a much bigger movement of activism by queer people and our allies. Straight readers (especially young straight female readers) are more comfortable reading queer stories.

I predict that the Supreme Court decision on DOMA will have a significant impact on the number of queer titles from mainstream publishers in future years. That landmark political change will have much more impact than any buying campaign by the 1-2% of us who are hard core queer lit fans. My second prediction: those mainstream releases will tend to deal with gay and lesbian couples getting married, and tend to be essentially books for non-queer readers – with straight heroines and heroes and gay or lesbian secondary characters.

So what about the 1-2%? This is a estimate that I arrived at considering: (a) most hard core queer lit fans are queer, and queer people are only 2-10% of the population according to most studies; (b) deduct at least half of the percentage points since, like our non-queer counterparts, the majority of queer people don’t read at all; (c) deduct a couple more percentage points since some queer readers aren’t particularly interested in queer literature anyway; (d) add a percentage point or two for non-queer people who mostly read queer literature.

I was tempted to invoke the slogan: We are the 1%! But I’ll restrain myself. 🙂

The good news that we don’t hear about enough is that there are many (hundreds? thousands?) of queer titles published and self-published every year. Try doing a search at Amazon. When I typed in “gay fantasy” just today, it turned up 5,341 titles. Scrolling through the first few pages, the vast majority of them were published by small presses or they were self-published.

Side note: Those first few titles also leaned heavily toward romance, so there may be fewer books with fantasy as their major theme and/or you have to search a little harder for them.

Queer presses and self-pubbed queer authors are creating cultural equality. With the growth of digital publications and on-line booksellers, the access point has widened dramatically. Lazarov says: “If you don’t see what you want to see in comics, make your own fucking comics.” (And he means the last part quite literally you’ll understand if you peruse his work). 🙂

I would add to that: if you want more stories about transgender people, lesbians, bisexuals, gay men, etc., do something to support LGBT political equality. Political equality and cultural equality are intertwined.

I know that many queer and ally authors are fighting the battles in and out of our manuscripts, so you can call me out on preaching to the choir. I guess what I’m getting at is that it makes more sense to me to frame the discussion in our own terms. We’ve got a fabulously talented community of authors and artists turning out high quality and diverse queer stories. Many of us have been doing the work for decades that has enabled queer characters to appear on the covers of mainstream books and comics.

 

 

 

 

Back to the Grind

I’ve been tight-lipped here for a little while, owing to a walloping on a couple of fronts.

I’m teaching my first ever college class this semester, balancing that with my full time job, and trying to widely hedge my bets on an agent for The Seventh Pleiade.

(You can all put down your bets on how soon the mental breakdown will arrive).

So, on the agent front, I’ve got some folks reading my full manuscript. Cross your fingers!  Querying/pitching is pretty torturous, but at least this time around I am getting some response.

Also on my mind lately:   Lambda’s announcement about changing guidelines for its 24th annual awards.

Responding to strong criticism about restricting nominations to self-identified LGBT authors and poets, Lambda’s Board re-opened the field to all writers, excepting three categories that recognize authors in stages of their careers: debut, mid-career, and lifetime achievement.

I’ve got a heap of mixed feelings about the announcement.   On one hand, exclusion rarely feels right to me.  When authors — LGBT or not — write fresh and honest stories about queer people, they are part of a united fight against censorship and marginalization, which are still very real obstacles in publishing.   Increasing the number of good queer portrayals is something to be lauded whether the author is non-LGBT, like George R.R. Martin (Song of Ice and Fire), or gay, like YA author David Levithan (Boy Meets Boy, Wide Awake).

On the other hand, I believe there is a need to celebrate queer authorship specifically, to have an occasion where people step up to the podium and validate that being a queer author matters.   It’s not just about the content of our work.   Queer authorship is a tradition, a history, a common struggle, and a triumph.   By celebrating queer authors, we celebrate more than simply queer themed work, as though it were a genre of fandom, like sci fi or romance.   We’re celebrating, and creating, community.

According to Lambda’s Executive Director Tony Valenzuela, the organization does not anticipate the policy change to have an impact on the number of queer authors nominated.   There were no restrictions on nominees for most of the Lammy’s history (notwithstanding the period of 2009-2010, when a 2009 policy was in effect restricting most awards to LGBT authors).

In correspondence with Valenzuela, he pointed out to me that queer authors have always competed extremely well, even dominating the competition.   Says Valenzuela:   “I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”