Identity Policing, Forced Outings, and my Thoughts on Coming Out in Publishing

Growing up as a queer kid in the 90s/00s in Canadian conservative country was, at the best of times, an incredibly isolating experience. There were no Gay Straight Alliances in my schools, many of my peers stayed in the closet longer for fear of rejection, and the bigoted jokes that played on loop across mainstream TV left the impression that I was a queer island in a sea of heteronormativity - separated from kin by thousands of miles. The only thing that helped bridge the seemingly endless distance was fiction - the few published books I could find featuring LGBTQ+ characters, as well as the budding online communities where queer folks could freely gather and share their stories.

I lived in those online queer spaces, but I kept going back to the bookstore, seeking out titles that maybe, just maybe, featured someone who felt like me. Whether the book was excellent or terrible, I found myself flipping to the author bios, searching for some evidence that the author was queer. I was always skeptical, and a little disappointed, when the author appeared to be straight and cis, or there was no indication as to their orientation. It felt like a sort of appropriation, and I was desperate to find the raw authenticity of queer stories told through an author's queer perspective. 

So I get it. I get the queer fans calling for writers to come out. I get the editors and agents who are seeking the security of marginalized authors who write in their lanes. With a limited number of books that can be published in a year, everyone with stock in the game wants to ensure the author they’re betting on is a safe gamble. Everyone wants authenticity. They wants to know: who are you to write this story? 

But do they have a right to know? 

When I entered the world of publishing in the late 2000s, young, bright-eyed and bushy-quilled, the

concept of author brands was gaining traction. As social media took hold, many in the industry quickly recognized the value in an author's "personal brand” and began pushing authors to develop loyal fanbases that would follow them from book to book. Today, this expectation is thrust on authors more than ever. Even when it’s not written directly in contracts, there’s an expectation that authors do a fair amount of their own promotion through social media, turning them into quasi-influencers. 

Over the last ten years, there's also been a growing cultural acceptance of and expectation for LGBTQ+ representation in media. As more queer kids grow up seeking queer stories, publishers quickly realized there was more money to be made appealing to the interests of queerdos than burying any mention of LGBTQ+ characters or themes under vague back jacket blurbs. All of this, in turn, changed how editors and agents evaluated potential clients and acquisitions. Industry professionals began looking for writers whose potential (or already constructed) author brand would align with the target audience's value system, reinforcing a parasocial relationship that would boost sales. #OwnVoices launched with the intention of supporting marginalized creators and connecting fans to the authenticity they were seeking, but was quickly co-opted by industry professionals into a catch-all branding term that identified more "marketable" clients. Fan and writer communities also weaponized the hashtag against marginalized creators to scrutinize their identities, histories, as well as gatekeep communities. (If you want to read more, BitchMedia wrote articles on the pressures on queer authors and authors being forcefully outed by the industry. R29 also wrote on the effects of #OwnVoices on books.)

Despite the retirement of #OwnVoices, this pattern of identity policing shows no signs of slowing down. On the one hand, readers aren't wrong to ask what an author's relationship is to the community they choose to write about. Young readers may do this as they attempt to find the same safety and solidarity from within the book in the real world, so it makes sense they would start with the author of the escapist fantasy that has already comforted them. On the other, the expectation that some of the most sensitive parts of our identity must be integrated into an author brand so we may be "allowed" to publish stories about marginalized communities feels ridiculously authoritarian. Not only does #OwnVoices not guarantee authenticity or credibility (as two people with the same identity may have vastly different experiences and perspectives), but the enforcement of authenticity above all harms and chases away marginalized creators, while limiting an author's career. An author’s consent in disclosing their identity should be prioritized above all, and silence should not be assumed to mean they don’t belong. I do hope more authors reveal more of who they are for the sake of representation, especially for YA and MG authors whose audience are likely looking up to them as role models, but no one should be pressured to build their entire brand—or identity—around a single diversity trait. Maybe by policing author brands, we'll catch the occasional con artist who seeks to insert themselves into marginalized communities to profit off them, but we'll harm a far greater numbers of allies, closeted people, and marginalized creators in the process. 

Cat Tax

As much as the idea of turning yourself into a 'product' still makes me uncomfy as all hell, I've seen a lot of value from building a brand that centers on you. I tend to be a bit of an oxymoron when it comes to self-disclosure. I don't like to talk about myself, but I wear everything on my sleeve, no secrets here. When considering my own brand, both as an author and a freelancer in the industry, I had to seriously consider how much of myself I wanted to place on the internet for public consideration. How to balance privacy and minority representation. How much I wanted to build a community centered around my LGBTQ+ identity vs other aspects of my personhood. How much of my career history I wanted to sacrifice to preserve my privacy. 

Some identities are easy to hide. Some aren't. Some minorities can walk into a room and blend, while others have it literally written on their skin. Being trans lets me exist in a strange reality where I'm both. At a certain point, I will pass enough that most people won't be able to tell that I'm from a minority group. Other times, it is painfully impossible to hide, and I have to put my safety in the hands of strangers in public spaces, hoping my identity doesn't upset those around me. But my personal brand grants me an opportunity: I could delete my blog, let go of my contacts and twitter, and essentially start my brand and business from scratch. It would completely disconnect me from my old name, gender, etc., yet I'd also sacrifice over ten years of work just to keep this part of myself hidden, while also surrendering a chance to provide representation for other transgender individuals. 

When put like that, the answer felt simple. At least for me.

So, hi. I'm Kyle, a transman. Nice to meet you. Come in, take a seat. I’ve got cookies around here

somewhere. 

I've been coming out slowly, tactically, in each new environment, like a solider behind enemy lines, and finally I've come to storm the online trenches. For me, being open about who I am and the changes I’m going through grants me the space to be a more authentic writer, which is why I’m choosing to publicize this change and my thoughts with this blog post, instead of quietly changing over my name and hoping no one notices. During my rebranding, I seriously considered whether I wanted a trans pride flag in my new banner, an easy way for other trans people to recognize the solidarity and connect, if they wanted to. Yet I hesitated, and ultimately chose not to include any identifiers in banners or bios, other than the vague title of "queerdo.” I know I’ll talk about it quite freely, so it will by no means be a secret, but I don’t want to advertise myself based on that feature and build an expectation with my audience that LGBTQ+ rights are a main focus of my art. Cause they are and they aren’t, and I don’t want to pigeon-hole myself artistically or have to publish under multiple pen-names, each with their own authorial branding. 

While coming out in this way works for me, the expectations of author transparency need to change. That disclosure of identity should be treated with respect – as the gift that it is, instead of something we’re entitled to. To help let go of this entitlement, the reigns need to be loosened on who "owns" what stories, and we need to let go of this desperate grab for an imaginary supreme authenticity. I believe very strongly in research, authenticity readers, and seeking to elevate representation of minority groups, but that can be achieved through criticizing the work, not the person. Somehow, in our push for more diversity, we expect marginalized individuals to act more alike than ever: conforming to single narratives about what it means to be gay, lesbian, Indigenous, an immigrant, etc. and labelling others as "bad rep" for not assimilating their own experiences into the dominant narrative. Author consent and autonomy needs to be central if we want to reverse the assimilation trajectory and get back to, you know, actually supporting and celebrating diversity. 

As Alanis Morissette would say, "Isn't it ironic..." 

Too Sensitive for Sensitivity Readers

Quote from Kira Hawke

'Twas the day before Christmas, and all the writers on twitter,

Were snuggled in their jammies, filled with wine and baked fritters.

When a post appeared online that arose such a clatter,

and had writers yelling, "Sensitivity readers matter!"

The New York Times is known for ruffling feathers in the YA community and kid lit with tone-deaf articles based in sensationalism rather than the full picture. Just in time of the holidays, they've gifted us with a new piece called, In An Era of Online Outrage, Do Sensitivity Readers Result in Better Books or Censorship? in which NYT picked and chose their words in a way we might call censorship to make it seem like the white authors who've used sensitivity readers were victims of an oppressive scheme to destroy art. I hate to give articles like this any extra hits but I think it's important to read the other side of the story (hah). Plus, I like knowing the opposing viewpoint, so I figured you would to.

So What Are Sensitivity Readers Anyway?

When an author finishes writing a book, it's not actually finished. Not if that writer has plans to publish it in any way. As said in many acknowledgement sections in books, "writing is a solitary art, but publishing is a group project." When someone writes a story, it is a wholly personal thing, a reflection of what's in their heart, and a testament to their experience. But once that person shares their story with others, it's no longer theirs. Readers are affected by it, and they ascribe their own interpretations and meaning that can change the message actually being conveyed, which makes the whole writing-publishing process a bit trickier. At the end of the day, you are trying to convey a message or story, and you want to do that as clearly as possible without inadvertently having your narrative say something you didn't mean to, such as reinforcing racism. This is where sensitivity readers come into play.

Sensitivity readers are a part of a book's editing stage, and are similar to beta readers. What makes them different is they are specifically looking for how a minority group is portrayed on the page, looking for accuracy, and to get rid of things that might be offensive. When writers write outside their cultural experience, they can sometimes get it wrong. No matter how much research one does-- and writers often have to research non-stop while writing-- when writing about a different way of life, tiny inaccuracies can pull readers out of books, can cause readers to put it down, or just plain offend someone. (Think of the marine biologist getting so worked up over Jaws inaccuracies, then imagine POC and minorities feel that except x100000). Sensitivity readers are people with the same experience or background as the characters, who can (hopefully) pick out the things that would be culturally insensitive or inaccurate. That way we could avoid the whole cycle of people getting mad on the internet and poorly worded apologies and conveniently trying to forget that book is a thing.

Notes from sensitivity readers hold no more power than a beta reader or your mom's opinion ("Oh sweetie, your characters shouldn't use so many naughty words") and though major publishing houses are starting to hire them, most sensitivity readers are unpaid, unofficial, and just trying to help out their fellow writers. Though some people's reactions have been harsh, sensitivity reads are a voluntary thing for writers, and many do seek them out. Because at the end of the day, this is a craft issue. Characterization is a major component of good writing and this is just another side to writing characters. For decades, publishing has, and most media as well, assumed the only experience out there is white, able-bodied, straight, with westernized views and a Christian background. That any other experience is considered 'niche,' 'specialized,' and in a 'significant minority,' and most people have the same experience in life. Slowly, we're realizing the opposite is true. Each of our experience is so varied and our culture hugely affects how systems and people react to us, that we can't paint all people in one brush. That even the experience of walking down the street is hugely different if you're white, compared to black or Muslim. Now that we're realizing that, we are striving to make each character's experience wholly accurate, and sensitivity readers, or input from people in the same shoes as your character, is vastly helping writers improve their craft. We're taking characterization to a new, better level. We're bringing our literature to eye level with reality, so we can more accurately express what it's like to be alive in this world.

The NYT article really said it best in the article with: "Like fact checkers or copy editors, sensitivity readers can provide a quality-control backstop to avoid embarrassing mistakes, but they specialize in the more fraught and subjective realm of guarding against potentially offensive portrayals of minority groups, in everything from picture books to science fiction and fantasy novels."

Oh yeah, fact checkers handling some seriously subjective subject matter. Which is probably why things are getting a little explosive.

The "Outrage"

I hate how the word "outrage" has been used lately. It's thrown out as a demeaning phrase used to devalue legitimate concerns, often raised by people of colour. Adding "online" seems to knock it down another peg, insinuating that because it's done online it has less merit somehow. It's not people marching in the streets, so it must not matter. Which is utterly ridiculous.

Minorities and people of colour have for decades felt this level of outrage for misrepresentation in

Black people protesting Birth of a Nation in 1915

media. Sometimes, before the days of the internet, they took to the streets to express their disgust at the level of harmful misrepresentation. Now that we have the internet, there is a public platform for minorities and POC to voice their concerns-- allowing publishers to easily see it and respond. Which makes it so much harder on the part of publishers, producers, creators, everyone, not to take responsibility for these things. If you know better, you do better. Or isn't that what we expect of each other? Publishing is beginning to listen to these concerns and is responding with sensitivity readers, especially children's publishers. As they publish content for the most vulnerable and impressionable, they need to ensure their representation is accurate. More than just making POC kids feel bad about themselves, books with stereotyped characters and cultures can indoctrinate white kids (or those unfamiliar with that culture) with inaccurate and harmful information, which perpetuates the racist and white supremacist systems in our society.

For most writers, this all seems pretty simple. Writing about a major medical incident? Get a doctor to read over your manuscript. Writing about Victorian London? Consult a historian. Writing about Navajos living on the reserve? Maybe you should talk to a Navajo living on the reserve.

One of the examples from the article really hit home the importance of sensitivity readers, especially for me, as someone who works with kids in foster care and who are in adoption processes. Kate Milford received feedback from sensitivity readers for her middle grade novel Ghosts of Greenglass House, who, like her character, were also adopted internationally by white American families. "In one small but meaningful change that a sensitivity reader suggested, she stopped referring to Milo’s mother and father as his adoptive parents, and simply called them his parents." This, to an adopted child, is a huge change they would've definitely noticed. They are often highly sensitive to the concept of "real" families and belonging. So reading this book, it may be a trigger for them to see a distinction between "my adoptive mom" and just "my mom" normalized in a published book. That word sticking out there reaffirms that they're outside the norm which can have damaging effects to their self-esteem over the long run.

So where's the problem? Sensitivity reading seems to do a lot of good. But the article, as well as some writers, seem to suggest this is all censorship.

Censorship? 

Cries of censorship echo all across the writing world, flying hand-in-hand with sensitivity readers. Yet I have trouble seeing the issue, especially when the process of sensitivity reading is the same as beta reading but with a different focus, and we didn't see cries of censorship there. Some writers (primarily white) are feeling afraid in this climate to "write outside their lane" as they fear getting it wrong and the inevitable backlash. Some are even claiming that they don't feel they can write about people of other backgrounds anymore, which doesn't make any sense to me. The whole point of sensitivity readers is to allow writers (primarily white) to write outside their own lane and do it successfully. The NYT article claims this is leading us to more homogeneous literature, when really the scrutiny towards accurate representation will allow us to write wider and write better. Instead of relying on internalized stereotypes and assumptions, we can get the inside scoop to allow writers to improve their craft and connect better with readers. Some critics are claiming that sensitivity readers are only one voice of a minority, and one black person can't speak to how all black people will feel. And while I agree wholeheartedly, it is still better to get the opinion of a few black people rather than none, is it not?

Criticism hurts at any point. It sucks to be told that the writing you've poured your heart into is bad, but that's all part of the process. If you want to improve, you have to take a hard look at your faults. If you want to publish, you have to be aware of your impact.

Shades of Magic series

Real censorship is awful, but criticism isn't censorship. Censorship is what happened to author VE Schwab. Her fantasy series, Shades of Magic, contains a gay relationship which was redacted from the Russian publication of the series without her permission. The contract stipulated that the plotline would remain, but the Russian publisher breached the contract to keep in line with the Russian "gay propaganda" law. Censorship comes without your knowledge or your consent. Censorship is the suppression or elimination of information. Sensitivity reading is the improvement of your content so you can tell the story you want. Sounds like the opposite of censorship to me.

People who take up arms against sensitivity reading don't have a lot of answers to the concerns POC raise about the lack of diversity in publishing. Nor do they really care. The way publishing Has Always Been benefits and suits them, and it can be difficult to engage people who can't see problems outside their own experience. So they claim that those who "don't like what's being published" should go off and "start their own" publishing houses/imprints/magazines/etc/etc. Aside from how difficult that is for people who don't come from rich backgrounds, POC have been starting their own houses/imprints/magazines/etc/etc for decades now. They've put in the work, building everything from the ground up just to publish works with accurate representation, and are still outpaced by big publishing houses who continue to publish books with harmful representation. Segregating publishing does nothing to address the problematic books being published all across the board.

The Core of It

Why is all of this such a big deal? Why should we even have to bother with sensitivity readers? At the end of the day, the need for sensitivity readers reflects the lack of diversity in the publishing industry. Where are the black editors? The Muslim agents? The Asian-American immigrant book reviewers for major publications? The more diversity we have within the industry itself, the less we'll have to reach out to sensitivity readers working unappreciated on the fringes. We're already asking for these people's input, and it's about time we put them in places where they can use their input to influence publishing. Not only will that open the door to more unique voices, but it will help to build sensitivity reading into the foundations of publishing itself, which is something we're long overdue for.

As it stands now, most of the gatekeepers within the publishing industry are of that white, straight, able-bodied, westernized, Christian background, and so don't have the experience to culturally vet so widely. That is also why we have more of a focus on white experiences. This is also why it's so much easier for white people to publish books about POC than for POC to publish books about POC. The expectation is (because the industry is mostly white) that the audience will also be mostly white. So even when books on POC are published, it needs to be through the viewpoint of a white person to make it more appealing to the "general" audience. And once that "Book about POC" slot is filled on a house's list (and because the assumption is the audience majority is white, there usually is only one or two slots a year for books about POC), most other submissions are shit outta luck until next year. So even when publishing about POC, white people still have the advantage to get those coveted spots of POC books to be published that year.

At the end of the day, sensitivity is nothing to be afraid of. If you want to write about black people, don't you want to get it right? If you're publishing anything at all, don't you want to make sure you put your best work forward?

And if your major concern is that there's too much focus on diversity, and we need less of it? Well then you can go fuck right off. Because we all deserve a voice. And it's about time we all learned to share the spotlight.

Should Books Contain Trigger/Content Warnings?

Riddle me this, book lovers: should books contain trigger and/or content warnings?

This question has made its rounds in literary circles many times before. A few years ago, many editorials came out discussing the idea after university students began asking for trigger warnings on course material. You know, mostly to have a head's up in case a disturbing scene is just around the corner. I was amazed at the amount of anger such a consideration sparked. It was as if these students had asked for regular book burnings to take place on campus. Many of the objections boiled down to some simple themes:

1) You are ruining the Sanctity of Literature if you spoil plot points through trigger warnings.

2) These special snowflakes need to buck up and deal with it. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings.

3) Being able to "opt out" of uncomfortable situations or scenarios is unhealthy.

4) Trigger warnings will lead to banning books. 

So let's really get into this. Because I want to know what you think about all this.

For the purpose of this post, when I talk about trigger warnings, usually I'm referring to graphic depictions that could trigger someone who has a history of trauma. Things like suicide, war,
racism, rape, child murder, domestic violence, etc. When I talk about content warnings, it's usually in a broader sense and covers things that may not be triggering, but many still would like to be aware of, such as group or kink sex, swearing, drug use, etc.

Frankly, content warnings are something that should have been added to books years ago. Every other media has a rating system to let people know what kind of content they're about to walk into. From movies, to television, video games, comics-- all have their own system to let you know what kind of content it holds, from a G rating all the way through to NC-17. Even TV shows have general disclaimers to make audiences aware of swearing, nudity, and violence. These rating systems don't spoil content-- it allows us to be informed consumers.

Yet books are exempt from this? Why?

Probably because books pre-date any sort of rating system. We were dragging around dusty tomes before we decided what was offensive and what wasn't. But does that mean they should stay exempt? It's easy to excuse a novel from needing a rating system simply because you need to immerse yourself to actually get the full impact. A person strolling by a grotesque movie poster only has to glance at it to feel the triggering effects. A book, however, can look innocuous enough until you realize what those words are building towards. Of any type of media, books are most deserving of content warnings and a rating system because you often have no inkling of it coming before you're immersed in a very triggering scene. Movie trailers give you a much stronger picture than vague back covers, and yet there are still ratings and systems in place to make sure you go in informed.

Also, to add to the argument against "content warnings are spoilers" lets remember that according to the University of California, spoilers don't spoil. In fact, they often make the experience more enjoyable.

But what about real life? Nobody hands you a content warning when you walk out the door. And could it be harmful to self-censor yourself from upsetting content? Unfortunately, when we talk about people who have been "triggered" by content like this, it's not because they've lived sheltered lives. It's because that person has a mental illness that is being aggravated by this trigger. To be triggered often means panic attacks, extreme anxiety, hallucinations or flashbacks, and are absolutely debilitating. People who suffer through experiences like this, often stemming from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, cannot control their triggers and are often hit by them when they least expect it. A traumatized individual could be triggered and not even know what by, which can create a life paralyzed by fear of the next trigger. Because of that, people will often avoid things they KNOW will trigger them, as they will inevitably be triggered by something they can't control anyway. Might as well minimize the damage, right?

Imagine PTSD as an allergic reaction. Every time you come in contact with coconut you break out in hives, so the logical thing would be to avoid coconut, would it not? You would want ingredient lists on anything you eat so you can know if it has coconut. If a teacher handed you raw coconut water and said you had to drink it for a grade, would you? Or would you protest, because this could severely hurt you, if not kill you?

Do people avoid certain topics and content? Sure, because everyone has preferences. At the end of the day, why should people be forced to read something they don't want to? There is no "book everyone must read" no matter what people say. Most importantly, due to life experiences, everyone will take away something different from a story. You may have found something beautiful in a book about a soldiers' journey through war, whereas an ex-military personnel may walk away feeling disgusted and horrified. It makes me think back to how media personnel vs military personnel responded to Trump's speech which honoured a fallen Navy SEAL, William "Ryan" Owens.

Media Reaction (left) and the Veteran's Reaction (right). 

Finally, will trigger warnings lead to banning books? I suppose I can see where the thought comes from, though to me it makes about as much sense as saying that if we offer people free healthcare they'll start running into traffic. In fact, everything I've seen when trigger warnings are put in place leads me to believe the opposite. Content warnings get people more excited about what's available to read. It's used as a tool to track down what you want through an over saturated market. To me, these 'warnings' are no different than tagging a book as sci-fi, fantasy, romance-- it helps to narrow down where in the world of literature this piece fits.

Before I came into the publishing world, I wrote fanfiction and participated in a lot of communities. Content and trigger warnings were STANDARD. It was EXPECTED. Often there were warnings on a chapter by chapter basis for longer pieces, so you knew exactly when the troubling content was coming. And how did people feel about it? Great! In fact, those content and trigger warnings became like lifeblood. Often, instead of turning people away from a story, it would engage them to click on and read. Back in those days, when I wanted to read a sweet romantic story featuring two gay men, I knew to look for tags such as "fluff" and usually the coded tag for that relationship (dating myself here, but in Saiyuki fandom, numbers were used to represent characters 3, 5, 8, and 9, so looking for a certain relationship meant looking for those numbers 3/9, 5/8, etc.) It worked amazingly. Going back to spoilers don't spoil piece, if people knew a story was especially dark, or contained graphic sex, or torture, tagging it as such let allowed people who were looking for those stories to find them easier.

When I transitioned out of the fanfiction world and started reading YA, I was thrown off by how little you are able to find out about a book. I wanted to find gay characters, especially as a teenager, and while in fanfiction such things would be easily tagged as such, in the book buying world I was flying blind. Unless the whole book focused around an Issue, you had to read the thing to find out if it had the content you were looking for. And then, Issue Books are often so formulaic and focuses so much on the problem that it can be hard to just enjoy the stories. Not to mention (especially for marginalized people) it's unfair that the only representation offered painted those people as People with Problems and forgot that they're just human.

Even today, when you look at how readers refer books to one another, you can see readers are concerned about content, not just when it comes to picking what not to read, but what to read as well. So many people on Twitter shoot out questions like, "Any recs for books with lesbian MCs/Disability rep/losing virginity/etc?" Yet if books had a content warning or rating page, it might be easier for people (especially teens) to track down the content they actually want to read about.

Content warnings don't have to be scary.

A content/trigger warning page doesn't have to be the end of the world. It can work like in the picture above, or a page like the acknowledgements listing out any troubling material, which can be easily skipped if you're not concerned and prefer to fly in blind. And if fanfiction is any indication, content warnings could serve to drum up excitement about books and reading. Would trigger warnings lead to censorship? Doubt it. If so, then we wouldn't have television, movies, video games... Besides, trying to slip in potentially distressing scenes in the name of Literary Sanctity, or to "teach readers" some moral or another, or because you know it won't be received well (slipping gay characters into Christian fiction, for ex)-- just comes across as, what we call in bird culture, a Dick Move.

I'm not asking for censorship. I just want the chance to be informed.

Blocked By VOYA Magazine

When I was younger, my mom taught me that when someone was bothering you, it was important to make it clear that you'd like that behaviour to stop. If it didn't, then it was best to disengage and interact with that person as little as possible. Starting fights doesn't often solve anything.

I've followed that ideal for most of my life. So when the initial mess with VOYA came up, I, like others, made my displeasure clear, offered criticism, and then watched as they stubbornly refused to change or take responsibility for wrongdoings. VOYA Magazine stooped so low as to block and gaslight those offering criticism, respond to industry professionals with sarcasm and rudeness, as well as respond to attempts to help them with insults.

Normally, I'd follow my mother's advice and walk away, but I can't this time. Not when a magazine that claims to be the "Voice of Youth Advocates" turns around and spits on not only their audience, but those they claim to "advocate" for.

If you haven't heard of the madness, it all began when VOYA Magazine published a review of Kody Keplinger's RUN (which they've since deleted), in which they claim the book should be for mature junior and high school readers due to a bisexual main character and swearing. The main issue, of course, being the implication that the mere existence of a bisexual character warrants a "warning." The real problem is best outlined by the author herself:

Nowhere in the review does it mention the straight sex. What makes the book mature was the mere fact that Bo expressed that she liked girls as well as boys. 

Tristina Wright (@TristinaWright) sent an email to VOYA after reading the review, and the following response from VOYA staff sent the internet into a frenzy.

The whole exchange makes me cringe hard. Of course, people make mistakes, right? Nothing a simple apology wouldn't fix. But the event only spiraled from there. 

Emails and tweets piled up from various writers, bloggers, publicists, publishers, agents, editors, basically everyone and their grandmother, expressing that this was not okay. The biphobic comment was awful, but VOYA's blatant disrespect towards one of their readers was inexcusable. Naturally, people wanted an apology. Instead of giving one, VOYA Magazine decided it was better to just block people and try to sweep the matter under the rug. 

An email response from VOYA. Deflect, deflect, deflect. 

The rage flames grew higher, and rightly so. Among other offenses, VOYA misgendered someone and continued to do so after being told to stop. 

They responded to valid concerns and criticisms, and offers of help with sarcasm and rudeness. 

Lied about apologizing to Tristina for insulting her and her child. 

They claimed that genderqueer is simply "twitter lingo." 

Naturally, this PR catastrophe bothered a lot of people in the community and there was a lot of blowback. After all, this kind of ignorance and bigotry is not accepted and cannot be allowed to run unchecked. So, VOYA released first a half-assed, victim-blaming apology: 

"The LGBTQ Community has taken offense" is the polite way of saying "The LGBTQ Community is forcing us to say this but frankly we've done nothing wrong." Surprisingly, this didn't go over well with the community (it's like they think we're stupid or something), and so VOYA released a longer, more eloquent, victim blaming apology: 

You'll notice VOYA now blames the community for not stepping forward sooner. The biphobic comment was noticed, by many, including the author herself and her publisher. But for them to speak out on the issue would have been seen as a major taboo (as the golden rule for authors involves never responding to a review). The fact that all this came out during BiWeek had less to do with us "searching to destroy our enemies in a public forum" (as VOYA has accused), and more to do with the fact that people were actively seeking out reviews about books with bisexual characters. An advocate looking to celebrate BiWeek came across the problematic review, and it was the magazine's horrible behaviour that blew the backlash to epic proportions. 

After all, this could have all been avoided if VOYA Magazine had acted like a professional, thanked Tristina for her feedback in the original email, and then edited the problematic line. Instead, they've proven that they don't care and they won't change. For all their apologies, they just don't care what the LGBTQ community has to say. 

As of Sunday night, days after all this hit the fan at high velocity, VOYA is still attempting to cover themselves with lies while censoring and blocking those raising issues. Hannah Moskowitz, a prominent member of the YA and LGBTQ communities, just this morning was blocked from VOYA's Facebook page with all her comments deleted. For all their apologies, they continue to dig themselves deeper and deeper into a hole. 

Like my mother always taught me, I'll be walking away from VOYA and making sure I never associate with them. But that's not enough. It's not enough for one major reason. 

VOYA Magazine is the Voice of the Youth Advocate. They claim to advocate for youth, all youth, and yet they've shown the exact opposite. They've shown to all those who look to them for advice, such as librarians, educators, bloggers, reviewers, etc., that bisexuals are something to be warned against. That bisexuals are the other, that though they are allowed to exist, they are "mature content." 

How many queer teen lives has VOYA affected in their screenings of f/f YA novels? How many innocent books were marked as "too mature" simply because there was a mention of LGBTQ? In comparison, why was Kody Keplinger's first book, The DUFF, not rated mature by VOYA despite the rampant (straight) sex all throughout the novel? 

VOYA cannot be allowed to be "an advocate for youth" if their advocating is selective. Bisexual, lesbian, and genderqueer youth deserve to be advocated for just as much as straight youth. I work in child welfare, and I've seen first hand all kinds of "youth advocates." I've seen those who would throw themselves on a grenade if it would give one vulnerable youth a better life, and I've seen "advocates" who would gladly throw children on grenades if it helped them get a better salary. 

VOYA Magazine is the latter. They are an advocate that only wants to exploit youth, young adult fiction, and what it may see as an "easy cash cow." 

Teens don't need fake advocates. They need people who care. Not people who brush off the realities of issues facing a large portion of their audience, of those they "advocate for." 

After all, would you want your youth advocate posting things like this in a public Facebook account? 

Lisa is the co-owner and review editor at VOYA. Definitely seems like she cares about youth and their rights. 

I refuse to stand by and allow VOYA to continue like this. I won't be able to sit comfortably wondering how many more queer youth are hurt by their unchecked abusive behaviour. 

I'm here to ask you, all of you, to make them accountable for this. It's time to boycott VOYA. I ask not only that you sign the petition to boycott, but to actually stand by it as well. 

Queer youth need to know that they have those that stand with them. That they don't need a content warning. That they don't need to be silent. 

BOYCOTT VOYA. 

Self-Care in Publishing

Self-care is something that is often brushed under the rug in our society. Who has the time to stop and take care of yourself in our go, go, go world? I deal with it a lot in the context of my dayjob. With child protective services, it is a necessary component of the job, which makes sense when you're going up against troubled kids dealing with mental health and behavioural problems, as well as hostile parents who see CPS as the enemy. Every week it comes up, if not every other day, with "How are you taking care of yourself?" It can be a hard question to answer, especially when people in this industry are so used to putting other people ahead of them. Myself included.

CPS workers are far from the only ones who need to practice self-care. There are some scary misconceptions about publishing that can create a lot of tension between writers, editors, agents, and everyone else involved with the process. After all, you don't need to be screamed at every day to have stress and expectations mount on top of you. In publishing, there is a silent expectation that runs in the background of everyone involved: Work Faster. It's fueled by passion and excitement, the anticipation of an answer that could affect your entire career. But that expectation sits on the shoulders of everyone, whether they're waiting for a response or working to get one out. Though it may be an exciting kind of stress, it is still stress, which can still overwhelm you. It isn't about the severity of the stress, but how long you have to endure it.

It's like this: imagine holding a glass of water at shoulder height. Nothing too scary, right? Now, how heavy is that glass of water when you've been holding it for two, three weeks straight? Imagine this glass of water as the expectations of publishing: work faster, work harder, work passionately. Nothing too serious to carry, until you can't put it down.

Self-care is being able to put the glass down, take a breath, and rest. It is absolutely essential for anyone, whether you have to deal with attempted assaults from angry clients, or just impatient nudging emails from writers  hoping you've read their work. But self-care isn't as easy as setting down a glass of water. Often we have dozens of others in the industry hanging over us (or at least in our heads) waiting for that response. So how do you practice self-care in an industry where speed in an important factor?

Literary agent Laura Zats put it beautifully:

Hey team, let's have a moment of real talk here. Publishing is an industry that is a lot of great things, but it's also very damaging (1/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

It's an industry that REQUIRES its artists, editors, designers, and more to break their backs trying to keep up with the work (2/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

Editors and agents (and writers) NEVER take a day off. We have office hours that don't include ANY time for reading. (3/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

And what that means is that we work nights, weekends, on our commutes, and more, and still are always behind (4/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

We do this because we love it. We love our jobs. But it's at the expense of our mental health. We shouldn't be comparing how busy we are 5/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

Or how behind we are. I shouldn't be feeling guilty because I got sick or took a walk today instead of reading. Or that I watched TV (6/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

None of us like saying no. None of us like making you wait. But we have to. 7/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I REFUSE to accept that you need to be unhealthy or in a bad mental space to make art, I refuse to do that for myself (8/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I don't want to be burned out by this business. Or to ever be at a conference when agents/editors can't remember the last book they read 9/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

And this is such a subjective industry that "hiring more people" isn't going to cut it. I'm tired of letting people down by being slow. 10/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

We should talk about burn out—and not as a badge of pride. We should talk about depression and anxiety and long hours (11/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I don't want any writer/agent/editor to feel like this business is a burden. Or that it's harming them. I want to talk about self-care 12/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I want to talk about compassion. And patience. And empathy. I want everyone to acknowledge that EVERYONE IS DOING THE BEST THEY CAN 12/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

This is an art and a business, and hearts and souls go into every project. We should remember that. Always. (14/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I want us to see panels on mental health and self-care and burnout at cons. I want us to talk to the community when we're hurting (14/?)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

What would YOU like to see happen? Webinars? A hashtag? A website or forum for supporting and communicating these things? I want it too 15/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

I'm not going to say I don't feel guilty for being slow. But I AM going to do my best. & communicate what that means 16/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

Tell me what YOU need to be healthy, and share it. Let's change the narrative, ok? Let's not be isolated by this anymore 17/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

in our culture, mental health issues are not treated like an actual illness. And we, as word people, can change that. & it starts here 19/?

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

Twitter rant over. Thank you all for listening. I'm going to go back to work now (of course). Let's be kind to one another (20/20)

— Laura Zats (@LZats) March 14, 2016

TS Ferguson, an editor over at Harlequin Teen also posted some great thoughts on burn out and self-care within the publishing industry. For the sake of length, I'll add in just a few (though he's an awesome person to follow on Twitter, so I suggest checking out his feed.)

6. there are so many of us who are overloaded, overwhelmed, and overworked. We do it because we love it, but let's be real,

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

7. this industry also has a HIGH turnover rate. I know more people who left the industry than I do people currently IN the industry.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

8. We do this bc we love it, but it can get really difficult sometimes. And mental health issues like depression can make it even harder.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

10. we're all humans with limitations and to be patient. That black-hole editor is trying to catch up as fast as she can. That agent who

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

11. hasn't gotten back to your query is trying to get through back-to-back client manuscripts first. Or is dealing with a stressful day job.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

12. A day job they had to take because they couldn't live off of their agent commission, because, another reminder...we're all underpaid.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

To add to the rant that I thought was over...if I had wishes, I'd wish for more time (to read or rest) and an assistant, not another job.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

I love my job. I just hate that there's not enough time to do it fast enough and that fast can sometimes be more important than talent.

— T.S. Ferguson (@TeeEss) March 14, 2016

Obviously, we have a problem here. The things that really jump out at me are the high turnover rate, and the fact that agents REQUIRE A BLOODY DAYJOB. It leads back to two significant needs that I face every day in CPS: high turnover in the industry means its employees require more support and self-care. There is a high turnover in CPS because of obvious reasons: not everyone can face child abuse day in and day out. There's only so much self-care you can do to handle it. But for publishing to have such a high turnover rate, when so many people claim that this is their dream job just doesn't make any sense. So why does it happen? Why do literary agents need a day job just to survive? How did we get to a place where the most passionate and driven people, who make books happen, have to struggle just to make end's meat?

So what do we do? How do we fix this broken system? Because our entire industry needs self-care, not just one or two of us. As a group, we need to learn how to put down that glass of water and understand what it means when we see others (agents, editors, writers) taking that time to rest their arm. But how do we get to that place, especially when we're all so anxious to hear back from each other?

Self-Care as a Group

•  The first step has already been taken. We need to talk about it. This isn't a case of mental illness where a few people have a disorder and we should take the time to acknowledge it. This is about EVERYONE'S well-being. We need to acknowledge that we are all human, that we can all get overworked. No one here is slacking off just to take a paycheck from the big boss. We are all here because we want to be, because we're passionate about words. That means that when agents, editors, writers, whoever, wants to talk about what they're facing, we must let them. Laura Zats and TS Ferguson and everyone else out there neck deep in submissions should be able to say "I'm exhausted" without fearing for their careers. Part of having a community is the support that we're able to give each other.

• We need to dispel the stereotypes already. In a world where we can log onto the net and find every answer we need at our fingertips, we can't keep perpetuating ideas about each other and the industry that simply aren't true. Such as, agents and editors being free to post on social media (we all need a brain dump after working non-stop) without fear of being seen as 'lazy', that agent and editors are merely 'gatekeepers' who want to keep people out (c'mon, let's get realistic), or that short form rejects are a personal attack. These ideas are all born out of an impatient and blinded mindset that comes from vulnerability. As writers, we make ourselves vulnerable by presenting our soul on paper. But you can't let fear of that vulnerability lead to angry or spiteful actions that will only destroy your career in the long run. Remember: always think of the person first, then their profession. 

• We are running a marathon, not a sprint. This applies to everyone in the industry. For some people, it only takes a few hours to read through a book. For some, it will only take them a handful of weeks to pound out the first draft and start combing through with edits (I know a writer even who does marathon writing weekends, where he finishes a book in two days. Talk about a headache). But these people are the exceptions. It will take you a while to read through a requested manuscript, or to write out a first draft, or go through edits with a beta reader. IT. TAKES. TIME. I think all of us feel guilty knowing there are people waiting on us, knowing that we hold their heart and soul within bound pages. I know the weight of that guilt can push you to rush rush rush. I've felt it myself with publicists and authors waiting up on me for a review, and while I'm reading as fast as I can, it never seems to be fast enough. If you feel this way, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. This is one of those things that, as a group, we need to accept. We are running marathons, and that takes a little longer, but the prize waiting at the finish line is so worth every step, especially when you can take the time to appreciate the journey. 

• Above all, kindness. Like I mentioned before, writers are often vulnerable due to the fact that they are turning their passion into a business. It can be taxing on the soul to wait and wait and wait only to be told no. Or you could be an agent or editor, tired of seeing the same rookie mistakes again and again. I think we're all smart enough (for the most part) not to air out our dirty laundry online and harass others in the business. However, I ask everyone to go one step further. The next time you find yourself annoyed by how long someone is taking to respond, or if you think they're tweeting too much, or you're overwhelmed by the urge to poke them with your very long pointy stick... just pause. Stop those thoughts in their tracks. Dialectal Behaviour Therapy is a strategy of therapy in which you acknowledge the patterns of behavior and do a complete 180 degree spin in the hopes of 'retraining' your thought patterns. So let's, all of us, start retraining our thinking. As much as business is competitive, we don't have to be. We have an incredible community that can allow us to achieve impossible things (like the #WeNeedDiverseBooks movement and #YASaves), but unless we band together and support each other, there won't be a community out there much longer. When we stop to ask each other how we're doing, remind each other that we're all doing the best we can, and grant each other kindness, patience, and understanding, we will be able to build an incredibly powerful community. One where people can thrive and see their dreams flourish. 

Of course, it's easy to say what we as a group can do, but a herd won't start charging until its members start moving. So what can you when at times this business can make us all feel so powerless and isolated? Everything starts small. How can you hope to check in with the well-being of those around, if you never stop to check in on your own well-being? As they say in CPS, the only way you'll be able to help anyone is to make sure you're strong and healthy first. Then you are best prepared to extend support to others. 

Self-Care as an Individual 

•  Take care of yourself! Often the most overlooked self-care tip. Eat right, make sure you get enough sleep, and take time to exercise. They're such small things, and can seem so freakin' unimportant when you've got deadlines and people breathing down your neck, but it is crucial. If you run yourself down and get sick, it will only stress you out more, and odds are you'll end up further behind. You'll be able to handle more stress and more shit slinging if you take time to stop, get some restful sleep, and eat an apple. Give yourself energy that will last. Don't let sugar and junk food make you feel sluggish. 

• UNPLUG! This is probably the second most important thing when it comes to publishing. We are all bound to our screens, yes, but we need to take time away. Staring at your email and refreshing it every five minutes will only serve to make you more anxious. Cyber stalking someone you're waiting on an answer from will also only add to your impatience and make the response take that much longer to get to you (or at least it feels that way). It may feel like it's helping when you're having a staring contest with your inbox, but the reality is, it just makes things worse. Think of an addict-- getting stoned doesn't get rid of the craving, and will only make the craving for it much worse, later. Schedule a time to go in and check your emails instead of sitting on it all day. You'll never get your mind off it while hitting refresh. 

• Use sensory items to help relax. This is a form of therapy that we use on traumatized kids in our facility. By utilizing the senses, you can actually help to regulate your emotions and calm yourself. Anything that invokes the senses can help: bubble baths, baking cookies, playing with Play-Doh, listening to music, listening to a river or fountain, etc. Try to invoke as many sense as you can (e.g., use bath salts or nice smelling oils during a bath). Again, this is such a small thing that has a powerful and lasting effect on your overall mental health. 

• Achieve something small! Some days, it can feel like you're paralyzed by your anxiety or depression or frustration with the industry as a whole. You can easily feel like you have no control, and in a lot of cases, you don't. But that's not the end of the world! There are things you can control and by stepping out and achieving things, you'll feel more confident in your ability to be patient. It's more than simply working on your next project-- it's about starting something small and being able to finish it to achieve a sense of accomplishment. That feeling  is addictive, and helps to keep the impatient demons at bay. 

• Get down, get weird, get CRAZY! This is a business, and we're all professionals standing around the imaginary water cooler. Often it can be hard to hold your tongue when colleagues are pissing you off, or unplug when you have four people who need you RIGHT NOW. Bottling up all those emotions will wear you down as quickly as not sleeping or eating poorly. So let loose. Go out and run about, fall to the floor laughing at your own jokes, rant at friends until your face turns blue. Express yourself, because your thoughts and feelings matter! But, as my mother would say, you've got to have the right place and the right time.

At the end of the day, you know you best and have the final say in what works and what doesn't. For myself, unplugging is essential. Often I'll get overwhelmed by others' successes, and when that happens I know it's time to step back and breathe. I also find going out for walks along the water and listening to the fountain in my condo's lobby incredibly peaceful.

So, what are your best self-care tips? What do you do to stay a #healthywriter? I would love to hear it!

Marketing vs Writing: Where Categories Fall Short

During my daily browsing, I came across a rather rude article about young adult fiction entitled How to Write a Shitty Young Adult Novel. Now, aside from me calling it rude, it is just a satire of many troupes and cliches found in young adult writing. It makes some very solid points, and there's a reason why nearly everything the writer outlined strikes a familiar chord with readers of YA. It left me between a rock and a hard place, because although I was raving mad and spouting my usual "YA is not a descriptor of quality!" I also saw that there was some valid points being made.

I was stuck. What to do. I could have gone to Twitter to post rants squashed down into 140 characters, or I could've ignored it entirely, choked it up to someone else's opinion and moved on with my day. But as I pondered, it occurred to me: why do I feel I have to defend myself? Why do I have to defend YA?

I could scream it until my face turns blue. YA, MG, NA, or adult is not a descriptor of quality. There are bad books everywhere. The title of that article could have been changed to at least a dozen other things. After all, isn't SF/F mocked for being "unrealistic" and "using magic or science to solve problems without difficulty"? Isn't romance and chick lit often thought of as just as wooden and hollow? Isn't literary and contemporary mocked for being dull or pretentious? It doesn't justify it, and mocking any genre or niche of fiction seems like the childish thing to me. Do you really have to elevate yourself above others just to feel good about what you enjoy? Then perhaps you need to reevaluate yourself before you start looking at others.

But why do people feel the need to dictate for others what is appropriate and not? 

We're told to avoid trolls. The internet is full of them, as well as real life, and they only wish to make people angry with whatever fodder they can come up with. Articles like this are no different. Sure, they may be accurate in their criticisms sometimes, but I fail to see what is being gained by shaming others for what they like. Whether its reading YA or MG, or enjoying My Little Pony, or falling in love with 50 Shades of Grey, or playing video games when you've become "too old" for something so silly, we all have or do something others may consider "childish" or "inappropriate" because you are not the target audience.

It comes down to, in my opinion, a lot of marketing bleeding into our perception of what is "normal." The marketing department of a publishing house decides vampires are the new hot ticket and begins to sell them to teenage girls, but when teenage boys begin reading them-- or adults, or even young children-- suddenly there's a societal problem. The books were not made with teenage boys or adults or children in mind, so it's not approrpaite for them. We use different shaming tactics--"Kids shouldn't have access to books with content like that." "Do you feel smart reading that book? Because obviously it's meant for kids and kids are stupid." "Ew, you actually want to read about ponies/vampires/X, isn't that for girls?" At the end of the day, content is content, and people don't fit into neatly made categories. Again, everyone else seems intent on deciding what is right for you.

Yes, there are people with their own opinions, and though they don't have to be wrong, it doesn't make the opinions of people who love, read, and write YA any less valid. Just because someone sets up a blog or works as a journalist does not mean they know what they're talking about. Hell, that includes me. I think it is important to remain aware of the effect categories, trends, marketing, and "target audiences" have on our writing. When we only focus on the idea of categories and what's appropriate for who, we forget that our art needs the freedom to grow and change, just as we do. If we get used to our comfort zones and never try to break boundaries, try something different, try to create something instead of just manufacturing something, then teen fiction has already been left to rot.

Ursula Le Guin said it best in her acceptance speech at the National Book Awards:

"Right now, I think we need writers who know the difference between the production of a market commodity and the practice of an art. Developing written material to suit sales strategies in order to maximize corporate profit and advertising revenue is not quite the same thing as responsible book publishing or authorship.

[...]

Books, you know, they’re not just commodities. The profit motive often is in conflict with the aims of art."

 Don't create the "Chosen One" story because you know it will sell. Don't sacrifice the needs of the story because someone else gets squeamish. Create art, then worry about where it fits later. Once you publish something, it's in print and there forever. Would you rather your debut be something you really care about, or an old story repackaged with different names?

If you're practicing art and not producing products, then you'll never have to defend yourself, because if you care about the craft, you'll always intend to improve. In my opinion, it's the beauty of art: it inspires growth, change, and emotion. But products don't inspire anything. They fill a need and are forgotten about when it no longer has use.

Even then, I can't bring myself to mock a book I feel is nothing more than a product. The business is subjective and there are many people who were touched or inspired by books that have put me to sleep. That's the magic in reading and the shortcoming of categorizing. A category only tells us the most basic of information. A shirt may be orange, but there are thousands of shades of orange. We put words like "Sunset orange" or "Urban fantasy" to try and narrow it down, but just as it pales in comparison to actually looking at a colour, a category cannot begin to encompass what's really found between pages.

Writers and Negativity

So, recently I had a few friends ask me for a copy of my book, Shell. I have no problem of giving away copies of my book, but this time I chose to say no, because the book is currently on submission and I thought it would be best to wait and see if the book was published or not.

Naturally, people get huffy when you say no. They don't understand why I wouldn't want to. Suddenly, they think I'm in it for the money.

This baffles me every time I hear it. I guarantee no writer will ever say this. If I was in life for the money, I would have gotten into business. Or marketing. Or tried my hand t driftwood sculpting. Writers DON'T make that much money. Most writers don't make enough to live on. Not, "Oh, I'm not paid enough." More like, "I HAVE $12 DOLLARS AND I HAVE TO PAY MY ELECTRICITY BILL AND RENT."

Yes, there are writers who make it big. And honestly? NOBODY REALLY KNOWS WHY. People pretend to know why Harry Potter was so big or how the Twilight phenomenon came about. They nod their heads and smoke their pipes and say, "Mm, yes, we expected that to come along. Precisely as anticipated."

The truth? Nobody knows what makes a bestseller besides: write a good story. So, those writers that do enter into this world to make money? You have a better chance of winning the lottery. And odds are it won't leave you cursing out your laptop when it breaks down and you're under deadline.

So, writers? Honestly, not in it for the money. Even YA writers, even though there seems to be a strange misconception going around the YA writers are "trend writers" and are "trying to chase the popularity of YA right now."

Uh, no.

No.

*clears throat* No.

Are you a writer? Yes? Are there types or writers you don't have respect for? Maybe they're YA or MG authors. Maybe they're mystery or romance writers. Maybe they're nonfiction writers. If there's a certain *type* of writer that you look down on, then I'm sorry for you.

As writers, we have a great community. And that community should be supportive. We are NOT in competition with each other. Even if you think we are, we're not. Someone who picks up a YA fantasy book but ignore yours? They like YA fantasy, and odds are they may pick up your book too. Between genres? We're not at war with each other, and we need to stop acting like it.

No matter what you write, you work hard at it, and we can't compare writing a MG fantasy to an adult contemporary. There is no comparison. They both have pros and cons and they're both not easy. If you compare genres or "difficulty level" of types of writing, then you are no different from children holding up their picture and saying they did better to a parent who really doesn't care.

It may seem like writing romance or a children's book or a contemporary is easy, but that's because it's our job to make it look easy. Writers get good at what they do so it seems effortless. But it's not. And as fellow writers, we should understand each other's pain.

Which leads me to another point. Writers who dehumanize agents and editors, saying they only want what's hot, who are only interested in money, who are plain "rude" for rejecting them, come on. I shouldn't have to say this. There are plenty of agent/editor blog posts where they say WE ARE HUMAN. WE LOVE THIS JOB. WE DO WANT YOU TO SUCCEED. Agents and editors are people too, people who LOVE this business, otherwise they wouldn't be in it. Like writers, agents and editors are usually sensitive people, because many of them are writers themselves.

This business is tough, and sometimes you need to rant. It's hard to deal with rejection and waiting and the struggle. But it's absolutely intolerable if you decide to take out your frustrations on agents, editors, or fellow writers.

We are not in high school. We are not dealing with office politics. We are all grown-ups here, and sometimes certain writers need to get their heads out of their asses and realize they are not the only people who love this business. Realize that writers write what they are called towards, even if you don't enjoy their genre. Agents and editors are doing the best they can, and they don't want to be rude. They don't like sending out rejection letters, but they cannot feasibly represent every author who emails them.

And I think this brings me to my point of this post:

If you are a writer that brews negativity, that just can't get over their spite and jealousy for fellow writers, that thinks agents and editors only care about money, this is your warning.

Get over yourself, or get out of this business.

The road to publication is long and frustrating, and if you're negative about the business, it will only drag you down. It WILL alienate you from your fellow writers. It WILL make editors less inclined to work with you. It WILL put off your agent. You will drown in this business. The thing about writing (and art in general) is there is a lot of put downs, and a lot of roadblocks. And if you can't pick yourself up and move on, you will never get anywhere.

So if you're a negative writer, look at yourself and ask: is this where I should be? Is the joy I get out of this worth dealing with all the bad things?

Can I put aside my anger and frustration and jealousy and love what I do?

I want you to succeed. But if you're just going to drag everyone else down into your pool of negativity, then you can go succeed elsewhere, because we don't want you here.