There is No Such Thing as Forced Diversity

I've written fairly often about what people would term "social justice" issues in fiction. From Asexual Awareness in Fiction, to What Would A Woman Do?, or even my fairly recent post from late last year Avoid Back-Handed Inclusion in Your Book, I've had a lot to say about representation in fiction. While a lot of the response has been positive, there has been one, consistent complaint used as a push-back whenever I (or someone else) talks about these topics. A line of reasoning that those embracing it seem to feel is the perfect counter-thrust to completely derail the conversation.

They simply say that they are all about diversity, but that "forced diversity" can ruin a book.

I don't know if you realize it, but those words are literally meaningless together.

I'm not the first person to say this, but I am going to re-affirm what other folks have said. There's no such thing as forced diversity. No one is forcing you to do anything. Either make your book more diverse, or don't. But if you choose not to, don't pretend it has something to do with a purer expression of your craft when it's just that you can't be bothered to swap up the color and gender palette.

Diversity And Representation Are Marketing Concerns

If your book has an all-white, all-heterosexual cast, that isn't going to stop it from selling. Those kinds of books have been selling for literal centuries with no problems. Also, this cannot be overstated, no one is going to make you change that roster. There isn't some kind of quota at publishers that say you have to have X number of black characters, Y number of strong female characters, and Z number of trans or genderqueer characters. Readers don't keep those checklists, either. It isn't going to be held against you.

However, it's not going to earn you any points, either.

This is the point where we talk about numbers.

You know that point I made above about how all-white, heteronormative casts have been the norm in books for literal centuries? Given that there are thousands of other books out there who made the same casting decision, how is yours going to stand out?

Because, and this is a little-known fact that some folks seem to miss, if you include an under-served group in your cast then members of said community are a lot more likely to actually check out your book. Why? Because getting the chance to see yourself in a work of fiction, and to have the issues you struggle with represented on the page, the screen, etc. is a huge selling point. And the more underserved a demographic is, the less competition you'll have in that area.

So, if you wanted to take a purely capitalist approach to things, then yes having a prominent trans character in your main cast would immediately put your story on some people's radars. From asexual strippers who hunt vampires, to a burly black cop comfortable in his gay sexuality hunting down serial killers, you would raise eyebrows, and get people to pay attention. Even if these characters aren't your main lead, just having them featured as part of the major cast of characters will generate buzz.

They're Story Concerns, Too

If you're one of those writers who just wants to be realistic in their casting (assuming you write fiction set in the real world), then you should also be interested in having a more diverse cast... because that's the world we live in! That isn't a new fact, either; people of all skin tones, a wide variety of sexualities, and all kinds of genders have existed in different cultures all over the planet without regard to where lines are drawn on modern maps for most of recorded history. From gay friars who were happily devoted to one another in medieval England, to Japanese mercenaries fighting the Dutch in the 1600s, our real-world history was a pretty diverse place.

But we're not even on Earth!

And if your story is set in a fantasy or sci-fi world that has no bearing on our Earth? Well, let me ask you this... does your story have humans in it? Because if it does, and they're supposed to be humans we can identify with, then you can only improve your setting by adding more options to it. Because it might seem easier to make fantasy or alien races a stand-in for a certain religion, ethnicity, sexuality, etc., but it just makes more sense to be genuinely diverse in your casting.

Again, remember, no one is forcing you to do this. If you think it's just easier to leave Buck Manwell, Space Force Captain and rugged, womanizing adventurer exactly the way he is, it's your book. You can do, or not do, whatever you want with it. And if you're just writing that book for your own pleasure, then that's fine... but if you're writing that book with the intent to sell copies, build an audience, and increase your professional reach, then diversifying your cast just makes sense.

Not only that, but it's a fairly easy habit to get into. Just look around, and ask why you've made certain characters in your cast the "default" setting. Then change them, and see what happens. You might be surprised at the results you get.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing installment! Hopefully it got the wheels turning for some folks. For more work by yours truly, check out my Vocal archive, or stop by My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

To stay on top of all my releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to support me, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular monthly patron. Every little bit helps!

I Believe in Love (But Not True Love)

I've been running The Literary Mercenary for several years now, and today is a bit of a special occasion. This is my first ever guest post, brought to you by the talented Vincent Cross. If you like what he has to say, follow him on Facebook, or check out his Amazon author page.

And now, without further ado...

I Believe in Love (But Not True Love)

I don't know about anyone else, but when it came time to talk about relationships, my parents didn't sit down to give me the straight dope. I got little hints, here and there, but mostly it was what not to do. Don't mumble, stand up straight, brush my hair, and just be myself. Platitudes, one and all. None of it had any substance, and it was about as useful as tying a boat anchor around my waist while trying to tread water in the dating pool.

And society frowns on slaying your crush's suitors as a display of strength, these days.

So who taught me what a relationship was supposed to look like? The movies I watched, the books I read, and the games I played. And do you know what they told me, every, single time? That love, real love, was easy. That it would always float to the top like good cream, and that no matter what challenges it faced, or how unlikely it seemed, it would always work out in the end.

What a crock of shit.

And of course we know that. We're adults. We know that you don't fall in love with someone because you shared a lingering glance across a crowded ballroom, and danced till midnight. That might lead to a whirlwind, backseat romance, but that isn't the sort of thing that makes a relationship work. Real relationships need things like mutual interest, connection, respect, and most of all, they take a lot of goddamn work.

And most stories don't have time for all that.

They're Just Books

But are they? Are they really?

Yeah, I wouldn't give this to my kids, either.

On the one hand, of course they're just books. They're just movies. They're just comics. But they're more than that. Stories are what we use to shape ourselves. They're the myths we bow our heads to, and that we study. They tell us how heroes, and villains, act. They tell us, in their own ways, what's real.

Maybe we don't really believe that love at first sight exists. As grown-ups, we know that if we see someone, and it makes our hearts flutter, that we're dealing with a bad case of lust. The sort of primal, primitive blood surge that can make you say and do some truly stupid things before you get yourself under control. But there is still that part of us that's eight years old being told that this is what love is supposed to feel like. That if we lose that spark, then we simply haven't found the one. That when we do find that special someone, it will be easy. No arguments, no loneliness, and we'll never wonder about our choice.

That's not a problem with us, as readers. Because stories are how we're hard-wired to see the world, and relate to ideas. It's a problem with our storytellers, who have been feeding us garbage. Giving us the childish simplicity of fairy tales, but then never stepping up the game as we get older, and could use more complex, more instructive stories.

They say if people aren't writing the kinds of books you want to read, then you're going to have to write them. So that's what I'm doing. Along the way, though, I'd like to ask that other storytellers think about the messages they're encoding in their books. There's no such thing as pure escapism. So make it fun, by all means. Make it sassy, dark, or demure, as you wish. But ask yourself what will happen if readers start using your stories as their mythology? What lessons will your gods and saints teach them about love, death, and getting on with your life?

Because, if I had my way, I'd like to make a generation that's less entitled, more respectful, and that understands there's no such thing as true love. That you need to tend that fire if you're serious about not letting it burn out.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing post. A big thanks again to Vincent for his contribution! For those of you who would like to help support me and my blog, why not stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to leave a small donation? As little as $1 a month is a big help, and it comes with a free book! Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter yet, well, what's stopping you?

Diversity in Fiction, and The 2016 Oscars

If you own a TV, listen to the radio, or browse the Internet, chances are good you've come across the budding storm that is the 2016 Oscar Diversity Scandal. If you haven't heard about it, somehow, then check out this article quoting the academy president, this video, and this list of highlights.

Up to speed? Good.

So what does the lack of diversity in mainstream film, and the significantly bigger lack of diversity in film awards, have to do with people writing books? Well, a big part of it is the argument that crops up, and which I have to listen to, every time this big, scary, capital-D discussion comes up. It doesn't matter if we're talking about college admissions, actors, authors, imaginary characters, or CEO job positions. The argument goes something like this:

"It doesn't matter what a person's skin color/gender/background is. We pick the people who do the job best, and who make us the most money."

I smell self-serving bullshit.

The argument accomplishes two things for the person making it. First, it depicts them as a truly color and gender-blind person. They're only interested in results, this argument protests. Second, it says that everyone has the same opportunity, and that because everyone has that same opportunity, those who come out on top did it all themselves.

I'm sick of hearing this, because it isn't true.

First, The Obvious

Before we get started here, I am aggressively white. My ancestors came to America from Norway and Sweden, via England and Ireland. I'm also male, and come from a middle-class background. I am often the subject of unfair treatment, but that treatment always benefits me. Because of the way I look, the way I talk, and because of my cultural heritage, I'm playing the game of life on easy mode in America.

A reference shot, for those who've never seen my book jacket.

I have never, for example, walked into my local comic shop wearing a Batman tee shirt and had someone demand I prove my fandom by asking me a slew of obscure trivia questions. I've never had someone ask me whether the book I was selling at a convention was full of "chick stuff." And I've never had someone insinuate that I got one of my stories published because the editors wanted to have someone of my ethnicity/gender/etc. in their book in order to score "diversity points" with readers.

You know something else that's never happened to me? I've never had someone tell me, "you can't do that," when I said I was going to be an author. More specifically, I've never been told that people of my gender or ethnicity don't write horror, sci-fi, or fantasy, as if that opinion was a fact. Editors have never suggested I change my work when I write stories with main characters who shared my ethnicity or gender because it, "might have trouble selling." I've never had to write under a pen name because readers are unlikely to buy a book if they think it was written by a man. Most notably, though, I've never had trouble finding representation in any of the fiction I love. Movies, comic books, novels, TV shows, and even video games have provided me with a life-long parade of manly white men whose adventures I have followed.

The idea that other people have to deal with any of the arbitrary barriers I just listed, and whose most common representation in the media they love is as comic relief, villains, and stock characters, is something that I think we should address head-on.

An Example of Social Factors

Anyway, back to the issue at hand.

My point is that movie studios aren't a colorblind mass who choose actors, directors, screenwriters, and composers based on an impartial judge of talent and past performance. It's just as often that someone lands a starring role because they fit a certain look, said something clever at a party, have the right friends, or graduated from the right college. It is, by no means, a merit-based career where people are rewarded based purely on the talent they've displayed.

To show the kinds of ripple effects unseen social barriers can create, I'd like to present an example that has nothing to do with movies or books, but which is illustrative of the impact social challenges can have on entire groups of people for generations.

This example is full of terrible stuff, so have a silly puppy before we start.

Have you heard of the Federal Housing Authority? Well, one of the many responsibilities this federal organization had was helping people become homeowners. The logic was that the more people who bought homes and owned property, the steadier the economy would become, and the better off society would be as a whole. As such, this organization gave out mortgages at lower rates to qualifying people. It was a good idea, but it was an idea with a heavy streak of institutionalized racism running through it.

You see, for many decades, the FHA gave out housing loans to white people who wanted to buy homes, but found reasons to deny minority applicants. This helped ensure that white neighborhoods stayed that way, but it also made sure that many minorities had to either get more expensive loans, or make due with renting. This allowed white families to acquire property, and to begin accruing wealth. Said wealth was handed down through the generations, providing firmer footing for their children and grandchildren.

This lending policy was eventually discovered, and steps were taken to reverse it. However, the rock had been thrown into the pond, and the ripples were still going. Because predominantly white families had been allowed to buy homes with low rates, the recipients had been able to move up the financial and social ladder. Minorities, on the other hand, had often been forced into poverty, saddling the next generation with debts and hardship instead of upward mobility. It was theoretically possible for these other groups to move forward now, but instead of starting at the beginning, many families were struggling just to get to the beginning after generations of hard living and wrecked credit scores.

The ripples go further than individual families, though. This lending policy contributed to minorities being segregated into low-income areas, and helped stop people from moving up financially. Additionally, when education was funded by home and property taxes in the school's area, it meant that schools from affluent, white communities received a great deal of funding, while minority-dominant schools received significantly less. This led to a gap in the way the next generation was educated, and the resources they were allocated. More graduates came from the schools with the funding to hire good teachers, and from communities where families weren't struggling to overcome a slew of other obstacles in addition to making good grades. The result? More of the kids from the predominantly white communities went to college, got degrees, and made the necessary connections to help them get further in their careers.

You still with me?

Now, none of that means there weren't people from bad homes or poor neighborhoods who didn't end up being successful. It doesn't mean there weren't failures in the affluent communities. It doesn't mean that those who achieved didn't work for their successes. However, it's a lot easier to graduate from high school if your parents have good jobs with benefits, if you have teachers who are happy with their salaries, and if you don't have to work a part-time job to help out with the household bills. And it's a lot easier to graduate from college if you were able to get grants and scholarships, or if your parents can help you pay the costs, so you can focus on meeting people you need to know, and getting the degree you need.

So What Does That Have to Do With The Oscars?

The point is that these kinds of background manipulations happen at all levels of society, including movies and books. There isn't a dearth of minority and female roles in Hollywood because the picky public won't go to see them (just look at the rave reviews for the last Star Wars film, or Mad Max: Fury Road). The dearth comes from the money men only being willing to green-light projects that conform to their expectations. Additionally, it isn't that female action figures don't sell. Executives don't want to confuse their demographic by making toys of action-oriented women like the Black Widow, or Rey, even though there's a huge market demand for them. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; we've decided these movies don't sell, so we don't make them. Because there are none of these movies, everyone assumes it's because they don't sell.

After all, why would you refuse to make something if there were hordes of fans lining up to throw money at you for giving them what they want?

The same thing happens with books, too.

What people are asking for with the Oscars, and with most other fiction awards, is not to take awards away from white actors, or white authors. Especially from our favorites, whom we all agree have earned those awards. What we're asking for is genuine opportunity for people who haven't been given a shot. That the next time Hollywood is making an action movie where the hero's ethnicity isn't specified, that you consider casting someone who isn't a straight, white man in the role. Or, if Hollywood really wants to branch out, to purposefully tell stories from someone else's perspective.

No one is denying the talent on display at the Oscars. What we're asking is where are all the other talented people who deserve recognition as well?

Thanks for tuning in to this week's rant. For those who'd like to help support me and my blogs, check out my Patreon page. As little as $1 a month can be a big help. If you want to make sure you don't miss out on my future rants, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, too, while you're at it.

What is Representation in Fiction, and Why Is It Important?

I want you to do something very simple; think of your favorite book. Just lean back, close your eyes, and re-live for a few moments the story or stories that hold a place of honor on your bookshelf. Got a clear image of the book? Good. Now take a look at your favorite character. Is he a dashing secret agent, by some chance? Perhaps she's an intrepid police detective who doesn't take anyone's shit?

Whoever your favorite character is, and whatever s/he does, ask yourself how many traits that character shares with you. Do you have the same ethnicity? Religion? Do you come from the same part of the world, or the same kind of family or culture? Do you have the same hair color, sexual orientation (or lack thereof), or ability/disability?

American... that's a start...

Now that we've conducted that little thought experiment, let's do a follow-up. How many times have you read a book (or seen a movie, or watched a TV show) where no one in the cast except a minor character in the background seemed like someone you could identify with? How often have you seen characters whom you feel do you and those like you a disservice because of how they're written? If you answered all the damn time then chances are good you are experiencing a lack of representation in fiction.

What Is Representation?

The easiest way to explain representation is to give examples. For starters you could check out this story about a young boy who falls on the Autism spectrum, and how he fell in love with Drax the Destroyer in Guardians of the Galaxy because they shared a similar way of experiencing language. There's also the story of Anthony Smith, a young deaf boy who often rejected his hearing aid because superheroes didn't wear them until he discovered that Hawkeye was both deaf and wore a hearing aid. There's even this case about how, if you believe Hollywood, the entire continent of Africa is nothing but savage tribes and corrupt warlords in a hostile waste.

That's two examples of positive representation, and one of negative representation.

Why does everyone think we all have terrible grammar and cram cheeseburgers down our throats?

Why It's Important

Representation is important to authors because it's important to readers. I'll give you one more example, and it's about my experience with representation.

For those who don't know me I am in fact a white male. I was born into a middle class and upwardly mobile family, my parents are still together, and I have one brother. From the outside my life up to the point that I wrote this blog entry looks like something you'd see on a 90's sitcom where the dad's a little too stern, the mom is demanding yet fair, the younger brother is constantly trying to tag along on adventures, and the older brother gets involved in all kinds of shenanigans while he comes of age.

And then grows up into this handsome motherfucker.

With that kind of setup you'd think it would be easy to find characters I could identify with, but that wasn't the case. The reason for that was because my dad was in the military, which meant every few years I went to a new school, had to learn a new set of standards, and had to go through the arduous process of trying to make new friends all over again.

Also, I had bright red hair as a kid.

That might not sound like a big deal (particularly to those who often find themselves maligned or made fun of by crass stereotypes in fiction), but to me it was. I loved comic books, monster movies, video games, and every character who had red hair was either a bespectacled caricature or the goofy best friend who bungled his way through the plot (if, that was, a ginger showed up at all). This fact didn't stop me from watching He-Man or reading the Hulk, but I noted the differences and wondered what they said about me.

Then Thundercats came on TV, and that was a game changer for me.

I had always had characters I liked or identified with in minor ways, but they were always heroes I might be some day. Liono, by comparison, was a kid in an adult's body (something I sometimes felt for since I got my growth spurt before everyone else), and he had to deal with being an outsider on a planet he had come to from a home he barely remembered. Beset on all sides by foes, he and the other cat-themed heroes on the show had to dig deep to triumph.

All of that, and he was a leader with a thick, ruby mane. It was the first message that I felt spoke directly to me and said hey kid, you can do this too! Now go out there and be awesome!

That's Really Why Representation is Important

When someone sees him or herself represented in fiction it transforms the experience. Tyrion Lannister is a great character in his own right, but he is also a little person who has to deal with all the challenges, slights, and difficulties that comes with his condition even while he struggles not to let it define who he is. John Constantine (at least in his source material) was a character who happened to be bi-sexual, and while that trait didn't define him it could act as a touchstone for viewers to identify with him (particularly men who are having trouble finding heroes that aren't purely heterosexual).

This book has even been praised for its female lead, if you can believe it.

You're probably noticing that in the examples I keep giving there's a plethora of characters for white males. That observation just goes to prove the point that while there are examples of diversity and representation in fiction, it could be argued that many more are needed to reflect the makeup of the audiences who are actually reading all of this content.

That is the point of the current discussion about representation in fiction.

No one is telling authors that they have to write books about leads from non-Western cultures, who have non-Christian religions, who have non-mainstream sexuality (including asexuality), or characters who have disabilities. No one is going to force authors to change their characters' genders, ethnicities, ways of speech, or even the way they dress. It's been made very clear that the reading public will be happy to consume good stories if the characters are well-constructed, the plot is engaging, and the book leaves them wanting more.

That said, it does bear thinking that in the changing demographics of the world it might be a good idea to have someone save the day who isn't a heterosexual white man. Especially if you really want your book to stand out.

As always, if you want more from the Literary Mercenary then go to my Patreon page and become a patron today! To keep up on my updates either fill in your email address in the box on the right hand side of the screen, or follow me on Facebook or Tumblr.