Clarkesworld Anthology 2012 (112 page)

I don’t remember how I found Lackey’s books. Were they given to me? Did I find them in the bookstore, saw that they had both bards and wizards, and simply wanted them on those merits? I wish I could remember. All I know is that I was damned lucky I found them. And I also know that if I hadn’t been brought up in a supportive environment, one series of books wouldn’t have been nearly enough.

But what about kids today? As the battle for queer rights has become more and more visible, these rights have also, in many respects, become more controversial. With the fight for gay marriage, the conservative fight against it, and the rash of tragic, queer teen suicides, it would seem as though queer characters would be popping up all over in SFF. After all, those geeky kids who get teased at school—whether they’re actually queer or just being called it—are the sorts of kids
we
were in high school. Or at least a lot of us. Marginalized, branded as outsiders, teased for being weird or different—and killing themselves because they’re queer. And to be queer, they’re told, is to be different.

Of all the people out there who didn’t grow up queer, you’d think straight geeks would be the most sympathetic—and the most understanding. Shouldn’t the SFF community be looking out for these kids?

Some within the community are. Malinda Lo has penned some amazing queer YA fantasy. Brit Mandelo writes an entire column on Tor.com called “Queering SFF” and has edited a new anthology called
Beyond Binary: Genderqueer and Sexually Fluid Speculative Fiction.
Cherie Priest featured a transgendered character in one of her
Clockwork Century
novels. There are queer SFF groups, like Geeks Out and Outer Alliance.

These examples stand out to me, though, because they’re few and far between and don’t get much notice. Even most romantic comedies today feature a stereotypical gay friend. It’s not the best representation, but at least we’re there. In SFF, we’re strangely invisible.

Failing to see queer characters in fiction doesn’t just damage queer kids. Parents read SFF, too. If queer kids have a parent who has never known a queer person in their life, they’ll be much more equipped for raising a queer child if they’ve read queer characters written as actual human beings—and not flat stereotypes or, worse, somehow wrong or immoral.

On the whole, the SFF community seems to me to be divided into three camps. First, the openly homophobic types, who for personal an/or religious reasons—or because they think it’s “evolutionarily backwards” (just like the other 200-plus species who practice homosexuality, right?)—feel queer people don’t deserve to be treated like actual human beings.

In the second camp we have the pro-queer types who love queer characters in their fiction and often are queer themselves.

The third camp, though, makes up the majority of the SFF community: folks who just don’t think about it. These are usually straight dudes who grew up pretty geeky, and who often are still mostly—and hopefully comfortably—geeky. But they just don’t give much thought to queer folks. If they did, they’d probably be cool with them; many probably consider themselves pro-gay rights.

But when it comes to their SFF, this third group finds it odd when there’s a gay character. Some say things like “I just can’t relate to a queer character, cause I’m straight,” but most seem surprised by the inclusion of queer characters. Some say they find the emphasis on sexuality to be heavy-handed—even when the emphasis on the queer character’s sexuality is equal to or less than the emphasis placed on the straight character’s sexuality. When a straight guy kisses a girl, it’s the norm; when a gay guy kisses a guy, it’s emphasizing their sexuality.

I don’t think people who hold this view are homophobes. They’re just used to their SFF being queer-free, and they feel startled by the inclusion of queer character. These are the folks I think are ready to open their minds. I don’t want them to be startled. Ideally, I don’t want them to think it’s any different than straight characters being included. For a start, though, I’d love to see them be happy to encounter queer characters. And I think they can be. They just need a little more prodding. And by prodding I mean more queer characters.

So the next time you read a book where there’s a heterosexual romantic pairing, don’t just accept it. Let that fact surprise you the way a queer romance might. Imagine how it makes that high-school kid feel, the one who still hasn’t found queer SFF. Think of how they look at every straight character in the books they read and are expected to relate to a straight character—but you, on the other hand, get surprised and kinda weirded out by one queer one. If they can relate, can’t you?

I’m not saying every story needs a queer character. Or that it’s a writer’s responsibility to do more than tell a great story. But I do think it’s time for all of us—straight folks included—to think more about where queer characters fit into SFF. And where we stand in that audience. A straight romantic lead is all well and good, but a queer romantic lead could make some teenager feel better about him or herself.

But we’re not going to get more queer characters without demanding them. Straight readers, we need your help—you should be asking for queer characters, too. You should be
hoping
for them. You should be happy about them, not surprised by them. Remember that we queer folks exist, and we exist in the world of SFF, too. That’s how you show us support; that’s how you take queer characters in SFF from invisible to natural.

We appreciate your support in politics. We love when you say you’re for gay marriage. But you can do more. After all, if you’re going to support us in the real world, you can support us in
every
world.

About the Author

Lev AC Rosen
is the author of the critically acclaimed
All Men of Genius,
which was an Amazon best of the month, on over a dozen best of the year lists, and has been nominated for multiple awards. He received his BA from Oberlin College and his MFA in Creative Writing from Sarah Lawrence College. Lev is originally from lower Manhattan and now lives in even lower Manhattan, right at the edge. He teaches creative writing.
All Men of Genius
will be available in paperback in November 2012.

Editor’s Desk: I, Cyborg

Neil Clarke

Sometime in the next month, I will become a cyborg. My “upgrade” won’t be anything cool like a bionic eye or cranial jack and it won’t be as painful as becoming a Cyberman. I never expected to become a cyborg at forty-six, but thanks to my July heart attack, my heart has sustained enough damage to require the installation of a defibrillator in my chest. As far as mods go, it’s pretty mundane, but it will provide some peace of mind and may even save my life someday.

Now that I’m taking the first step, maybe I should start considering other potential upgrades. Given my health over the last year, a nanobot-based immune and healing system would be particularly useful. I wouldn’t complain about a system that would allow me to learn new skills or languages via software updates. The old cyborg staples of strength and speed wouldn’t be high on my priority list, but are certainly worth considering. Still, the fictional cyborgs we read about often pay a high price for their improvements. Would I really want to be part of the collective, lose my emotions or memories, or become beholden to some secret government organization? What if your new parts can be taken over or subverted? The what-ifs make for a good story. (And now, I brace myself for the flood of cyborg stories.)

November is when many of us celebrate Thanksgiving. I have a significant list of reasons to be thankful this year. Obviously, surviving a major heart attack is up there, but I also have to appreciate the good fortune to be surrounded by good people, access to excellent medical care and the opportunity to become a cyborg. While my story has contained its fair share of bad things, I’m still here, and as Elizabeth Bear pointed out in her column a few months ago, good stories don’t have to be dark. I join the cyborg nation happy to have the opportunity to live. Whirr. Beep.

Cyborgification isn’t the only change this month at
Clarkesworld.
I am pleased to announce that Kate Baker has agreed to add Non-Fiction Editor to her list of responsibilities. Kate has been our Podcast Director for over three years (a job she intends to continue) and I look forward to having the opportunity to work with her on this aspect of the magazine. We’re carpooling to World Fantasy Convention this month, so we should have plenty to talk about on the long drive.

If you’ll be at World Fantasy, please stop by and say hi to Sean, Kate and I. We love to hear from our readers and authors. I’m also pleased to say that the
Clarkesworld
single issue chapbooks I mentioned last month will be available at the Prime Books table. I was able to get the January-October 2012 issues completed in time, so we’ll have a limited quantity of each available there.

Finally, I’d like to welcome our new subscribers. We appreciate your support and hope you’ll consider encouraging friends to do the same. It’s been encouraging to see those numbers go up a bit each month and provide the financial stability we need to grow this magazine. Welcome. You have been assimilated.

About the Author

Neil Clarke
is the editor of
Clarkesworld Magazine,
owner of Wyrm Publishing and a 2012 Hugo Nominee for Best Editor (short form). He currently lives in NJ with his wife and two children.

Clarkesworld Magazine

Issue 75

Table of Contents

Your Final Apocalypse

by Sandra McDonald

The Wisdom of Ants

by Thoraiya Dyer

Sweet Subtleties

by Lisa L Hannett

The Corpse of the Future: Jane C. Loudon's
The Mummy!
and Victorian Science Fiction

by S. J. Chambers

A Thousand Words You Can Hear All at Once: An Interview with Todd Lockwood

by Nayad A. Monroe

Another Word: The Echo Chamber

by Daniel Abraham

Editor's Desk: Getting off the Roller Coaster

by Neil Clarke

The Lost City

Art by David Demaret

© Clarkesworld Magazine, 2012
www.clarkesworldmagazine.com

Your Final Apocalypse

Sandra McDonald

This is not a story about the end of the world, although Casual Visitor arrived here in search of such a tale approximately .03 seconds ago. (It, not him or her or they. There is no gender in this corner of the future. There is nothing physical about Casual Visitor, but I’m a different story.)

You, on the other hand, are a young man sitting on the marble steps of a law library on a dazzling Saturday morning in autumn. You’re watching a pretty girl cross the quadrangle while your right leg jitters up and down, up and down. It’s the anxiety. Behind you, in a stuffy conference room, your study group bitches about your absence. Even now they’re speculating nastily about your chances of passing the bar exam and tapping out annoyed messages to hurl across the electronic gulf.