preachy bastard

First, read this.

I admit, I pay more attention to the goings-on in YA than one might think.  A lot of that is because we tend to share the same tone and themes through our writing: triumphing over hardship and growing through adversity, embracing the fact that philosophy and ethics grow and wither instead of being set in stone, acceptance of the truth that bodily functions are usually hilarious.

Whatever the reason, I’ve often felt that YA and fantasy tend to have a kindred connection and that, in recent years, we’ve undergone transformations that are getting us closer together.  Both genres tend to be used as vehicles for human exploration, with YA serving as mostly a discovery of youth and fantasy serving as a discovery for everything else.  You can argue this if you like and maybe scratch your beards, possibly bring up the influence of Tolkien and the power of true myth.  Feel free to.  That’s not what we’re talking about here.

If you’ve been with the blog for a bit, you probably know my opinion of mainstream literature’s opinion of fantasy literature.  If not, let me summarize: who cares?  We’re not writing for them, we’re not trying to reach them, we’re not talking to them.  If they happen to find something in our work that they can relate to, then great.  If not, then it’s not really our concern as writers and readers of fantasy.

There’s a lot more to go into there, but I’ll end that particular thought by summarizing one of their usual cries against fantasy: it’s escapism.  It has no real value.  It does not relate to the human experience.

In more than a few ways, they’re actually right, and we’ve talked about them on this blog before.  The concept of Chosen Ones, prophecies, clean conflicts with neat endings, absolute good and evil, unquestioningly accepting a fate based on whether your mother was an elf or an orc.  Traditions.  Proud traditions.  But left as they are, unquestioned and unaltered, they move us further away from humanity.

Realism is overrated.  We’re not aiming for realism.  But we are aiming for honesty: honesty to humanity and honesty to the art.  This is the chief reason that I frequently rail against the status quo (the other reason being that I am consummate attention whore).

And yet, some people prefer that.  They like their orcs evil, their princesses in peril and their heroes to say no to tobacco and whores.  Admittedly, they can make a pretty good case against a trend in fantasy that everyone has to be grimy and gritty for the sake of being edgy (which is as dishonest as the other end of the spectrum, I feel).  I don’t blame them.  Some people read for the sake of comfort and that’s absolutely and utterly fine.  I’m not suggesting that there is only one way to write and if you dare enjoy your heroes and villains then you’re not hanging out in reality, maaaaan.

Rather, I’m suggesting that we need to avoid taking the comfort as canon and the tradition as unalterable.  Disliking, criticizing or outright not reading something uncomfortable is fine.  But denying it totally as a contribution to the work seems to be all too common.  And going even further than that, we seem to use it as an excuse to reject any part of humanity we find uncomfortable.  Hence why we often see a lack of non-straight, non-white non-male protagonists.

As evidenced by what happened in Ms. Verday’s story (you didn’t think I had a point, did you?  DID YOU?)

Admittedly, this is a subject I’ve grappled with for awhile.  For a long time, I was leaning toward the theory that it’s more honest to not put in a non-straight, non-white non-male protagonist in a story if you are a straight, white male.  After all, how could you be honest about an experience you’ve never had?  Then I realized that I write about suicidal people, religious xenophobes and schizophrenics without being any of those things.

And that’s why I’ve changed my opinion to “there is value in trying.”

I’m not going to say there’s no harm in trying.  You might completely fuck something up and be ridiculed and shamed for it.  You might be utterly rejected as a writer for it.  Yeah.  That sucks.  Rejection, though, is going to be ever-present in your life as a person.  I can tell you it doesn’t stop after you get published, either.

But if it’s what you want to do, you have to try.  Even if it goes against tradition.  Even if you’re worried you might screw it up.  Even if it runs the risk of someone proposing the same ultimatum to you that they did to Ms. Verday.

We should all strive to do the same, then, and do our best to stick to our guns.

There might be some decrying that a YA author is experiencing this sort of thing before we big bad adults are tackling the issue.  After all, we’ve been pretty aware of this as an issue in our genre for a while.  I see it more as an inspiration, though.  As I said, and it might still be just me, but there is a connection between YA and fantasy and I don’t think it’s a bad thing that we take cues from each other now and again.

I don’t think it’s a bad thing that we try something new.  I don’t think it’s a bad thing that we occasionally meet a stumbling block like Ms. Verday did.  I don’t think it’s a bad thing that we sometimes mess it up entirely.

I do think it’s a bad thing if we feel constrained in our writing.  I do think it’s a bad thing if the urge to be published overwhelms our urge to explore.  I do think it’s a bad thing if the fear that we might be ridiculed, rejected or loathed for what we honestly try keeps us from doing so.

Admittedly, it’s easier for me to suggest that getting published is not that big a deal, since I am.  But what I’m not is award-winning, best-selling or possessing any other honors that might or might not be helped by writing something more safe and traditional.  And I still believe what I’ve just written.

You might dismiss this blog post entirely on that basis, though.  Or you might just roll your eyes and see another Sam Sykes anti-establishment rant.  You might just decide that this particular call isn’t for you.

That’s fine.

Because, in a way, this is another anti-establishment rant and what I’m suggesting is not for everyone.  I never suggested it should be.  What I am suggesting is that there is always value in fearlessness, that a fear of rejection is as weak an emotion as a fear of something new, that there is always room to learn and you will only ever do so by actually trying.

Think less.

Do more.