The recent Amazonfail mutancy got me thinking about how labels can drive our behaviour, even though we aren't necessarily informed about where those labels come from.
It's amazing how many times one hears comments to the effect: "I won't read Author X, because I have it on good authority s/he's a homophobe/racist/bigot/[insert species of socially mutated idiot here]".
Uh huh. You know what? Fine, don't agree with them. Don't condone their behaviour. Don't buy their books if it makes you feel better not to give them royalties. But isn't refusing to read them on that basis and that basis only merely exposing yourself to just the kind of cultural censorship and brainwash that made that author the repellent person they are?
Rather, refuse to read them because their books suck.
I happen to find anti-Semitism repulsive, for instance. But I don't care if Mel Gibson is or isn't an anti-Semite. It won't stop me from watching his films. Tom Cruise apparently does weird Scientology stuff, and jumps on couches on national tv. That makes him an amusing spectacle and a walking commentary on the price of fame. But it doesn't make him a bad actor.
His bad acting does that :) nah. Just kidding. Actually, I rate the baffling Mr Cruise as an actor. But you get my drift.
Certain authors tend to rant on the internet, to many fans' disgust. That behaviour makes them ranters, not bad authors. Only bad books make you a bad author. And reading those books doesn't mean I agree with everything the author believes.
Same goes with writing and critting. I'm a fiction writer, not a social commentator. Writing a murder mystery doesn't mean I condone murder. Nor does reading one.
And if I'm reviewing or critting a story, I talk about fiction. Not about the author's values or lifestyle or experiences. Frankly, unless I know you personally -- and sometimes even then -- I don't give a damn about any of those things. And I flatter myself that I have at least a small clue about what makes readable fiction. If I suggest a story's broken, there's at least a slim chance that it is, in fact, broken. Even if the broken part is dear to your heart, some point you're just dying to make.
I don't care about your point. I care about good fiction. Sigh. Why do people take things so personally?
Read. Watch. Consume information. Know your enemy's failings. Pretending they don't exist won't make them go away.
And neither will delisting them on Amazon, apparently.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
my government thinks I'm an idiot
We apologise for this interruption to our scheduled programming.
I'm not linking to it, see? Some fool at the Australian Communications and Media Authority (ACMA) might fine me $11,000.
But if you go to a site called Wikileaks, and search for 'ACMA blacklist', you'll find it. The alleged ACMA blacklist, that is. All those nasty internet sites our government is trying to stop us from viewing. It may or may not be accurate. But it's enough to get really angry about.
Here's why ACMA say I shouldn't do exactly what I'm doing. The proposed compulsory ISP-based internet filter is supposed to 'prevent access to harmful and offensive online material'.
Yeah. Don't adjust your set. It says 'offensive'.
Not 'illegal' or 'defamatory' or 'exploitative' or 'non-consensual'. 'Offensive'.
Well, I'm pretty fucking offended by your internet filter, okay? I'm offended by jerks who want to take all our responsibilities away so we'll no longer be entitled to the rights that come with them. I'm offended by bureaucrats and politicians who think I'm so dumb I can't decide for myself what I'm offended by. I'm offfended by parents who are so weak and seduced by the culture of blame that they refuse to take responsibility for what their kids see on the internet and think the government should do it for them.
The government we deserve, folks. Don't let this happen.
I'm not linking to it, see? Some fool at the Australian Communications and Media Authority (ACMA) might fine me $11,000.
But if you go to a site called Wikileaks, and search for 'ACMA blacklist', you'll find it. The alleged ACMA blacklist, that is. All those nasty internet sites our government is trying to stop us from viewing. It may or may not be accurate. But it's enough to get really angry about.
Here's why ACMA say I shouldn't do exactly what I'm doing. The proposed compulsory ISP-based internet filter is supposed to 'prevent access to harmful and offensive online material'.
Yeah. Don't adjust your set. It says 'offensive'.
Not 'illegal' or 'defamatory' or 'exploitative' or 'non-consensual'. 'Offensive'.
Well, I'm pretty fucking offended by your internet filter, okay? I'm offended by jerks who want to take all our responsibilities away so we'll no longer be entitled to the rights that come with them. I'm offended by bureaucrats and politicians who think I'm so dumb I can't decide for myself what I'm offended by. I'm offfended by parents who are so weak and seduced by the culture of blame that they refuse to take responsibility for what their kids see on the internet and think the government should do it for them.
The government we deserve, folks. Don't let this happen.
Friday, March 6, 2009
me and my new boyfriend
Me, a slab of Cadbury chocolate, and this guy:
Fwoar. The Prince of Persia. Just call him Prince. And lest I out myself as a total geekgurl (oh, wait, too late) he is one hot dude. Sigh. That dusty grab-me hair. Those bloody blades. That homicidal stare. I've found my next romance hero :)
Explore, if you will, the depths of my geekdom: I deserved a reward this week (small matter of finishing my latest manuscript, go me!). So I hop down to my local EB Games and pick up Prince of Persia: Warrior Within, one of my old favourites.
Geek enough for you yet? Read on.
I get home, already weak at the knees with anticipation. But guess what? The Prince ain't backwards compatible on the 360. More geek points for knowing what that means.
Sob.
So do I return him?
No way. I drive half an hour to the secondhand store and pick up an original console. Just for the Prince.
Must be true love.
Fwoar. The Prince of Persia. Just call him Prince. And lest I out myself as a total geekgurl (oh, wait, too late) he is one hot dude. Sigh. That dusty grab-me hair. Those bloody blades. That homicidal stare. I've found my next romance hero :)
Explore, if you will, the depths of my geekdom: I deserved a reward this week (small matter of finishing my latest manuscript, go me!). So I hop down to my local EB Games and pick up Prince of Persia: Warrior Within, one of my old favourites.
Geek enough for you yet? Read on.
I get home, already weak at the knees with anticipation. But guess what? The Prince ain't backwards compatible on the 360. More geek points for knowing what that means.
Sob.
So do I return him?
No way. I drive half an hour to the secondhand store and pick up an original console. Just for the Prince.
Must be true love.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
they cast who?
Vampires, right? The stiletto heels of the paranormal. People keep saying they'll go out of fashion as we come to our senses, but it keeps not happening, because they're just too damn sexy.
From way back when, I mean. This isn't a new idea. I still remember puzzling over the abridged version of Dracula when I eleven. I wasn't quite sure what was wrong with poor hysterical Lucy, but it didn't sound all bad.
And then high school, and Interview With the Vampire.
Sigh.
Louis, the vamp who put the e in emo before we even knew what emo was. Baffled, beautiful and bewildered with ennui, he wasn't a vamp because he was attacked by a vicious monster or or bewitched by some blood-fanged hellbeast. He was a vampire because he hated his life but was too scared to die when the opportunity came.
Cue a whole generation of romance heroes with heartbreaking fatal flaws.
Louis was gorgeous and he sparked a tradition of angsty, whining vamps who abhorred this life of death and sorrow, yadda yadda, but for inadequately explored reasons never actually get around to killing themselves. But we forgive him because he's the original and the best.
And because, in 1994, we found out he actually looked like this:
Gulp. Honestly. No one really cared whom they cast as Louis because of the furore over Tom Cruise (I mean, OMG, like, he's not even blond, are they crazy? etc. etc.). And then River Phoenix died and people cared even less. I don't know what possessed Them to cast JD from Thelma and Louise as Louis, but that limb? I want out on it.
(Okay, so Mr Pitt had done a little more than that at the time. If you haven't seen it, check out Kalifornia. It's fantastic.)
I actually love the entire casting of Interview. It's crazy, but it's crazybeautiful.
IMO Mr Cruise is perfect. You want to punch him, but you admire him too. And everyone who's read the books knows that Armand is a short chubby-cheeked redhead from Venice. Right?
Al contrario.
Need I say more? And recall, if you will, the collective bated breath in the cinema when this (almost) happened:
Mmm. Anyway. I digress :)
Apart from spawning a generation of Louis-clones -- and are we pleased about that or what? -- Interview is notable also for what it didn't spawn, at least not straight away: a generation of vampires like Lestat. The monster hero who's pretty damn pleased to be a monster, thanks very much, and if I'm going to hell (or not?) I might as well have some fun along the way. It's only recently that we've been inundated with this kind of character.
But more than thirty years (can you believe it?) have passed since the release of Interview, and no one has yet out-emo-ed Louis. No one has out-bratted Lestat.
If only Ms Rice had known when to stop.
Like me. Here.
From way back when, I mean. This isn't a new idea. I still remember puzzling over the abridged version of Dracula when I eleven. I wasn't quite sure what was wrong with poor hysterical Lucy, but it didn't sound all bad.
And then high school, and Interview With the Vampire.
Sigh.
Louis, the vamp who put the e in emo before we even knew what emo was. Baffled, beautiful and bewildered with ennui, he wasn't a vamp because he was attacked by a vicious monster or or bewitched by some blood-fanged hellbeast. He was a vampire because he hated his life but was too scared to die when the opportunity came.
Cue a whole generation of romance heroes with heartbreaking fatal flaws.
Louis was gorgeous and he sparked a tradition of angsty, whining vamps who abhorred this life of death and sorrow, yadda yadda, but for inadequately explored reasons never actually get around to killing themselves. But we forgive him because he's the original and the best.
And because, in 1994, we found out he actually looked like this:
Gulp. Honestly. No one really cared whom they cast as Louis because of the furore over Tom Cruise (I mean, OMG, like, he's not even blond, are they crazy? etc. etc.). And then River Phoenix died and people cared even less. I don't know what possessed Them to cast JD from Thelma and Louise as Louis, but that limb? I want out on it.
(Okay, so Mr Pitt had done a little more than that at the time. If you haven't seen it, check out Kalifornia. It's fantastic.)
I actually love the entire casting of Interview. It's crazy, but it's crazybeautiful.
IMO Mr Cruise is perfect. You want to punch him, but you admire him too. And everyone who's read the books knows that Armand is a short chubby-cheeked redhead from Venice. Right?
Al contrario.
Need I say more? And recall, if you will, the collective bated breath in the cinema when this (almost) happened:
Mmm. Anyway. I digress :)
Apart from spawning a generation of Louis-clones -- and are we pleased about that or what? -- Interview is notable also for what it didn't spawn, at least not straight away: a generation of vampires like Lestat. The monster hero who's pretty damn pleased to be a monster, thanks very much, and if I'm going to hell (or not?) I might as well have some fun along the way. It's only recently that we've been inundated with this kind of character.
But more than thirty years (can you believe it?) have passed since the release of Interview, and no one has yet out-emo-ed Louis. No one has out-bratted Lestat.
If only Ms Rice had known when to stop.
Like me. Here.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
tha kikass convenshun, we haz it
What a blast.
Melbourne. Australian Romance Readers Convention. You know the drill.
First was the welcome reception on Friday night. Everyone capered around with free champagne and goggled at the famous people and talked in high giggly voices. Excitement was palpable.
Saturday morning, and Mary Janice Davidson's speech had everyone in stitches. What a charming lady.
Next an academic panel: Why Romance Gets Dissed By Everyone Who's Never Read It, and Why Do We Worry So Much About What Other People Think? Interesting points made. Glen Thomas is a crack-up. I have only one thing to say: we've still got 80% of the sales, dissers. Go starve in your garrets :)
The next panel was on paranormal romance: Why Are Scary Dudes So Hot? Answer: because they're scary. Well, duh.
Lunch was good. I mean, surprisingly good. The food provided by the Jasper staff was universally agreed to be excellent. A big rap for them.
Afternoon panel: romantic suspense. Now we know why no one ever got devoured by rats on Neighbours. Luke, dude, I am so buying your book.
Stephanie Laurens gave a speech. I'm not sure I buy Romance Makes the Free World a Better Place by Increasing the Birth Rate, but an interesting talk by a wonderful author.
Book signings and goodies galore:
Assorted conference pics:
Second day, first speakers was Susan Grant -- how cool is this lady? a 747 pilot and a mum, and oh by the way writes kick-ass books in her spare time?
Liz Maverick was very funny talking about the stages of romance reading. Ya know, kinda like the 12-step program but better.
First panel for me was urban fantasy, sci-fi and futuristic: Why Is It So Cool? Answer: if you don't understand, we can't explain it to you. Kinda like Harley-Davidsons.
Later, the cross-genre panel. Solution: pretty much everything these days is cross-genre. Just don't call it that when you're pitching it.
The final session with Sherrilyn Kenyon and Diana Love was the funniest thing I've sat through in many a day. What charming, honest, lovely people.
Okay, that's it. I promised you vampires and Brad Pitt. I haven't forgotten.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
the place for a village
Melbourne, that is. That's what the founder, John Batman, is meant to have said when he got there in 1835.
Now, it's the place for shopping, cricket and the best Italian food ever.
Now, it's the place for shopping, cricket and the best Italian food ever.
It's also the place for my book, Shadowfae. There are fairies there, you know. Just gotta look properly, and hang out at the right clubs. But we'll talk about that later.
More importantly, it's the place for a convention. The Australian Romance Readers Convention, to be precise. I'll be there over the weekend, meeting authors and chatting with readers and indulging assorted romance-related mayhem. Mmm. I see chocolate in my future.
I'll be back next week with a con report and some pics.
And we'll talk about vampires and why they'll never go out of style no matter what People say, and how Brad Pitt changed the face of paranormal romance before we even really knew who he was, and what Vince Colosimo has to do with any of it.
See you soon!
Monday, February 16, 2009
fairies and weirdlings and all manner of good things
Hi. I'm Erica Hayes. I'm an Australian urban fantasy author, and my first book, Shadowfae, is coming out in late 2009 from St Martin's Press.
There. That's that over with. Glad you dropped by.
Here, we're gonna be talking about the weird stuff, and I don't mean Tasmanians.
I'm talking fairies. Vampires. Demons. Banshees. Succubi. More fairies. A spriggan or two. Anything that takes our fancy. Fantasy creatures, coming to a gritty city street near you.
We'll chat about urban fantasy books, and movies, and odd things that catch our eye. And, of course, romance. We adore romance. Especially if it's got fairies. And not the tiny flittering kind.
Friend me? Aww. You're making me blush. Go right ahead. Link to me. RSS your sweet little socks off. I'll answer comments. I'll link you back. I'm like that.
So pull up a screen. Squirm yourself comfy in that beanbag. Pass the chocolate. And let's get chatting.
There. That's that over with. Glad you dropped by.
Here, we're gonna be talking about the weird stuff, and I don't mean Tasmanians.
I'm talking fairies. Vampires. Demons. Banshees. Succubi. More fairies. A spriggan or two. Anything that takes our fancy. Fantasy creatures, coming to a gritty city street near you.
We'll chat about urban fantasy books, and movies, and odd things that catch our eye. And, of course, romance. We adore romance. Especially if it's got fairies. And not the tiny flittering kind.
Friend me? Aww. You're making me blush. Go right ahead. Link to me. RSS your sweet little socks off. I'll answer comments. I'll link you back. I'm like that.
So pull up a screen. Squirm yourself comfy in that beanbag. Pass the chocolate. And let's get chatting.
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