A bit of a meandering post, this one.

At the recent Alt.Fiction Otherworlds event in Derby, I had a fascinating chat with a young lady (Helen, who I think was a friend of Adrian Tchaikovsky’s) about minority characters and people who are poorly represented in genre fiction. I made a comment in one of the panels about defending quotas for minorities – or rather, people of different races, sexuality, abilities etc. Whilst I can see people saying all sorts of nonsense about this being positive discrimination, and making general noises of discomfort, as I said in the panel, that assumes it is a level playing field, but it really isn’t. Whether we like it or not, our genre’s output is still populated by straight white middle-aged male heroes, for whom women are merely plot points.

The conversation afterwards really hit home. Helen was a bit of a literary activist, but a forgiving one, and that was something I liked. I’m paraphrasing badly here, but she suggested that when it comes to minorities, authors nearly always get it wrong, no matter what they do – but the main thing is that we reduce the amount of errors we make. Does this matter? Yes. A lot of people read our books, and a lot of people are influenced by them. You may choose to pass off books as entertainment, but that is not an excuse for accidental misogyny or racism, because readers – especially younger readers – may think that such treatment of people is the norm. I do think authors have some responsibility to influence what the perceived norm can be.

So, facing up to these statements, I think I’ve got plenty wrong. I know I made errors in Nights of Villjamur – personally, I didn’t think I made any of the female characters truly, independent or outstanding. I could make all sorts of bullshit up about the world being a patriarchal society, but so is ours. I could say I was concentrating too much on getting the gay character right, whatever. But after I wrote that novel, I thought I should rectify that; in City of Ruin, I wrote a properly independent and central female character, without trying to turn her into a leather-clad fetish. I’ve written about a transgendered character in The Book of Transformations – which serves not only having a strong female lead, but also focusses on the issues of another minority. Race is something I’ve dealt with down the species divide, so I hope I’ve addressed some issues there.

There are probably a whole load of other problems with my books (quiet at the back!) but it’s interesting that now I’m at that stage of my career where I can really assess what I’ve done so far and what I should try to fix. There are other minorities I’d like to address: people with disabilities was one that cropped up in our conversation. How few books feature a disabled character in a central role that is not a villain?

Anyway, food for thought.

If you’re currently writing something, why not question the ethnicity of your main characters. The act of questioning is the important part, surely? Why not try to get things less wrong, too?

The discussion of openness and impartiality of blog reviewers did the rounds on Twitter, and I realise it’s a storm in a teacup and hardly that important when the world is undergoing financial and environmental meltdown. That said…

First, here’s what I tweeted on the debate:

I like that bloggers are questioning how impartial they are. This is good, because publishing can be deeply nepotistic at times. Before blogs, the nepotism used to be behind closed doors. Now at least there is a discussion to be had.

@gavreads In my years in publishing, I found more than a few blog reviewers simply repeated the enthusiasm of a publisher… Which is, perhaps, to say the publisher can influence.

@Weirdmage I have big respect for bloggers. They are, largely speaking, honest and open. All I ask is that they don’t swoon to publishers.

@JonCG_novelist @gavreads Indeed, it isn’t the publisher’s fault; or anyone’s. Simply that things are regurgitated.

@Weirdmage @JasonBaki @murf61 Deep down it comes to: If a publisher invites a reviewer to dinner, would that reviewer give more coverage? … Because it’s not just the quality of coverage, it’s the amount of coverage.

Bloggers: forget the nonsensical debate of free ARCs. Publishers have been dishing those out for years, they’re just a marketing tool, hopefully you’ll shout about the books positively and everyone’s a winner, apart from the scummy dudes who throw them on eBay straight away before publication date (there is a special place in Hell for you).

No, this is the point of interest: you’re getting to that point where many of you should realise that you’ll be courted at parties and conventions with free booze and if you’re lucky a dinner or two, and some of you will be given guest post spots on their own blogs, or a little reviewing side-gig. How terrible for you. And this is in the interest of publishers, because (a) they want to thank you for giving free coverage and publicity to their books and (b) you’re probably helping them sell more books (not necessarily individually, but certainly as a hivemind). Also, don’t forget (c) it’s a small industry, so they probably enjoy speaking to you as fans, too. It’s not black and white. You have a mutual interest. Isn’t it lovely?

You just have to ask yourself the simple question: does a few free drinks or dinner, and a better relationship with a publisher, mean I’m more inclined to show more cover art or give better reviews of their books? Most of you will genuinely say no, which is a good thing.

And yes, I realise the same works with authors, too – I’m happy to admit that. If you like me as a person, I don’t expect you to like my books (and vice versa!), but don’t think I’m buying you dinner – I’m a writer, we have no money. Publishing is a small industry, and has been phenomenally nepotistic in the past. I realise that many of you are struggling writers, too, and getting close to industry people could possibly open up a dream career.

This industry is, and has always been, about relationships (apart from when it’s about money). Social media has just thrown a spanner in the works and no one quite knows how to handle the etiquette. The important thing is that you’re at least thinking about it, because this didn’t happen so much before we all aired our dirty laundry on Twitter.