JJ Litke

the neural pathways less traveled

Retribution bullying is still bullying

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You may have seen the case of Lynn Shepherd and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Attitude article, in which she suggests that J.K. Rowling stop writing adult fiction and give other writers a chance already. It’s no surprise that negative reaction ensued. Shepherd’s non-apology didn’t do much to help, at least in part because it was so disingenuous—if your intent is to highlight how tough it is for new writers to get noticed, you really need to write about that instead of trashing a well-known writer. If Shepherd genuinely thought she was writing about what she claimed, it’s evidence that she’s really not very good at writing, because that’s not the message anyone seemed to get.

Then, the backlash. Rowling fans mercilessly trashed Shepherd in return and left one-star reviews of her books. Books they have not read, just as Shepherd admitted she had not read Rowling’s before dissing them. Okay, here I have to admit I found that pretty damn funny. What comes around, goes around, right? Except part of the justification people used for doing that is it was unfair when Shepherd did it. So, when Shepherd did it, it was wrong, but when they did it, it was retribution and therefore justified.

And you know where I’m going with this because you’re a decent person with morals. You don’t get to twist your morals around and do something you know is wrong just because now you’re the one doing it to someone else. It’s that old “two wrongs don’t make a right” thing.

This is just the most recent example of people using bullying as a retribution tactic. It happens with a startling degree of regularity. People are really good at justifying their own horrible actions. I’m a good person, so the things I do aren’t bad. They’re just. Yeah, but, no. It doesn’t work that way.

This is part of the scary truth behind why we can’t eliminate bullying. Bullies almost never think they’re bullying. They think they’re justified, for whatever twisted reasons they can come up with to justify it. But let me assure you, no matter who you are, no matter how Good or Right you believe yourself to be, you are absolutely capable of becoming that bully. The more you think you are not, the more likely you are to do it, because you won’t examine your real motives, or the results of your actions.

So, what, we’re supposed to let people get away with their crappy behavior? No, frustrated do-gooder, I’m not suggesting that. And incidentally, I share your frustration, it sucks when you feel like someone is getting one over on us. What we should do is what we all said that Shepherd should have done–state our opinions without insults and think through the consequences before we speak. We need to strive to meet the standard we expect from others.

If only Shepherd had done that, she wouldn’t have so many people angry at her now.

The ways in which we are wrong

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The current rounds of controversy started with the petition aimed at SFWA. It continued with attacks against Mary Robinette Kowal on sff.net. Rather than rehash the issue directly (which is being done plenty already), I’ll attack the argument itself.

This is the exact text in question, by Sean P. Fodera, directed at Kowal:

I find it very funny and ironic that she would jump on this bandwagon. For
a long time, her website featured an array of photos of her in a diaphanous
white outfit, posing on a beach. No metal bikinis or such, but they were not
innocuous writer headshots either. One of them, with her recumbent on the sand
with legs exposed, made her somewhat attractive. I also recall she’s fond of
wearing tight-fitting gowns and plunging necklines when she attends cons and
award ceremonies.

I’ll have to add “phony” to “incompetent” and “arrogant” in the mental tags
I’ve assigned her.

What, you may ask, does her choice of clothing have to do with what she believes about the content of the SFWA’s member newsletter? The correct answer is: nothing. Of course it has nothing to do with it. What we see here is an example of a logical fallacy, in which Fodera attempts to discredit Kowal’s credibility on the basis that her clothing is not respectable enough. (Note that he does not describe his own clothing as a counter to why he is more credible.) There are also strong elements of cognitive bias going in these arguments.

By the way, that “legs exposed” bit in there refers to the fact that her ankles were showing. Her. Ankles. I’m not kidding.

Kowal’s defenders have posted statements and screeds attaching many fine traits to her. Which is great, and I’m glad that she’s getting support. At the same time, I’m uncomfortable with how we’re all leaping to that side of it. Did you see that I just did it myself above? I pointed out that the photos in question weren’t the slutty pics that Fodera implied they were. I caught myself writing it and then left it in just to make this point:

It shouldn’t matter what a woman wears. It shouldn’t matter whether she’s well-liked. But there it is, and we’re still judging women by a different standard than we’re judging men.

And we’re doing it even when we’re on the “right” side of the issue.

We’ve still got a long way to go.

Incidentally, Sean Fodera posted a threat to sue everyone who linked to that Daily Dot article. If you do, Mr. Fodera, please include me, because I could really use the publicity, and I’m pretty sure such a lawsuit will hurt you a whole hell of a lot more than it will hurt me.

Bookmark bits and pieces

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I finally bought a bookmark. I’m not sure I’ve ever paid actual money for one. But this hardcover I’m reading right now (The Emperor’s Blades) really seemed to warrant something nicer than just a scrap of paper. It turned out to be more difficult to find a nice bookmark than I would have thought. I ended up with this dragon one, just because it’s what I could get quickly. Hey, it has nice graphics. And it cost a whopping 49¢.

here there be dragons
Because tassel!

Since I’m a knitter, I could make a lovely bookmark. But I hate thick bookmarks that might press into the pages, and fine lace is too fussy and flimsy for the job. The same issue rules out the metal variety of bookmarks. It can’t be uncoated colored paper that might stain the pages. And all these picky criteria are why I end up using the folded receipt for the book itself. Besides, it’s a cool reminder of when I bought the book.

But there’s one better. The very best bookmark of all is an airline boarding pass.

boarding pass as a bookmark
Trip to Dallas. Okay, so that particular flight wasn’t to an exotic locale.

It didn’t take long of flipping through books to find one. Once I (or my husband) read a book on a flight, that boarding pass will probably live on in that book forever. Boarding passes are the ultimate bookmarks. They meet all the above rules, plus they add a sentimental interest. Any time I open that book again, I’ll remember that trip. Which, come to think of it, isn’t always a fun thing, but then it’s just a different kind of memory.

Still, I’m going to start keeping an eye out for fancy bookmarks that are actually functional. Or else I’ll have to start flying a lot more often.

Immortal characters and the people they know

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If someone lived long enough, they must have met some interesting historical figures, right? Famous names that anyone now would recognize. It just makes sense that it works that way, and it’s big fun to read those bits of alternative history in fiction. It’s even more fun to write them. Which is the only good reason to do it, because it’s definitely not realistic.

It really only makes sense if you don’t look too close or think too much about it. It turns out that many names we recognize as famous now were pretty far from that when they lived. In the novel Hounded, the first of the Iron Druid Chronicles, the main character–who has been around for 21 centuries–mentions knowing Van Gogh. But Van Gogh was virtually unknown during his life. He sold exactly one painting. Only later was his work noticed, and even later to become the widely-known name that he is. But okay, let’s say that his work became famous later because this long-lived character (strictly, he isn’t a true immortal) knew him, and somehow contrived that postmortem fame. So, there we go, still plausible. Though to be honest, I’m not sure that’s really how the author meant it (Kevin Hearne, if you’d like to correct me on this, I’d appreciate it).

So some examples could be explained away. Some others, not so much. The very worst demonstration of this I can think of is from the movie Hancock. Criticizing Hancock is like shooting fish in a barrel, there’s just so much to vilify there. But I’m talking about the bit right at the very end, when Jason Bateman quizzes Charlize Theron about various historical figures: Attila the Hun, Queen Elizabeth (without specifying which Queen Elizabeth, I’m assuming the dead one), and JFK. She personally knows EVERY PERSON WHO EVER EXISTED and she has opinions on all of them.

Now I know what you’re thinking: with everything that went wrong with Hancock, THAT is the thing you chose to pick at? Well, yeah, odds are good you didn’t even notice that particular flaw after the more glaring stuff that came before it, and the lame heart-moon thing after. Besides, it fits today’s subject.

I admit, that pieces of alternate history like this are really enjoyable when done well. In my own writing, I decided to go the other direction. My characters (like Hearne’s, they are not truly immortal) have spent centuries trying to remain hidden. While they’ve interacted and even interfered plenty, they aren’t given to hanging out at the top with big names. That, logically, would ruin anonymity. My fave depiction of this is a young man meeting someone who is more than seven centuries old (I know, that’s a little on the young side). He could ask about anything he wants. Coming back to their conversation later, they’re talking about football. It’s unfortunately realistic; I imagine that, on the spot, you’d quickly run out of questions, especially if you got a number of responses like, “No, I never met him,” or “I wasn’t there, I don’t know any more than a history text would.” Then the conversation would naturally turn to the sorts of things that any two people might talk about. (Though actually, I think someone who’s been in as high a number of wars and conflicts as that character might have a fascinating view of football, and I would totally jump at the chance to find out.)

All that said, I’d like to get some more historical figure references as I continue through the Iron Druid Chronicles. I’m holding out hope that Hearne will fall into the doing-it-right category.

The holidays approach, plan accordingly

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Ah, the winter holidays! Halloween gives us a nice prelude to the looming specter that is Thanksgiving and [December holiday of your choice]. And what makes these festive times so very unnerving?

Family. Those people you’ve avoided all year until now.

Okay, maybe it’s not really that bad. Somewhere in the world, there are happy families who all love and cherish one another and are always genuinely happy to be together. And the rest of us hate those guys. For most people, it’s not really one extreme or the other, and the truth lies somewhere in the middle. You want to see your family, but you’re really nervous about putting on a good front and appearing successful next to your overachieving cousin (that smug bastard). Or you know you’re going to be forced to deal with that jerk uncle who just can’t shut up about his political views. Maybe it’s that you just don’t get to see them often enough and you’re not sure how to get in enough time, which likely means you’re going to spread yourself thin and be exhausted by the end. Whatever your particular flavor of drama, the holidays bring us all the gift of stress.

One of the best ways to mitigate some of that stress is to manage your expectations. Don’t engage in magical thinking about how you’re going to finally get every detail right, or tell off Jerk Uncle this time, or finally earn Smug Bastard Cousin’s respect. It ain’t gonna happen. Accept it. Embrace it. It’s okay. Seriously, it is. You don’t have to be perfect, and you don’t have to be right (and that’s a topic that deserves an entire post on its own–hell, an entire blog). If you routinely feel disappointed at the end of the holidays, start managing those too-high expectations now.

Family isn’t so bad. Except when they are. But they’re every bit as human, and amazing, and flawed as you. If you can find a way to accept that, you’ll all be a lot happier. Especially after the holidays are over.

Family “support”

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My daughter earned her bachelor’s  degree a couple of years ago. She works in a research position at a hospital, but she has decided that’s not enough. So she’s started taking post-bacc classes with the intent to go to medical school.

This is a text message exchange we had a few weeks ago:

Her: Enrolled in cellular biology!

Me: Yay, I guess!

Her: I’m gonna be a doctor BE ENCOURAGING

Three things here. One, she recognized my snarky sarcasm (to someone who doesn’t know me, my comment might not sound as bad as it actually was). Two, she called me out for my complete lack of support. And three, my daughter has ambitions of becoming A DOCTOR. Which is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.

That last bit is significant. When she talks about medical school, it’s scary to me. It’s big, and challenging, and that makes it frightening. I don’t want her to fail. So what do I do? I discourage her. I pointed out the cost, and the time involved, and the required level of commitment. As if she was going to say, oh, gee, Mom, medical school is expensive? I didn’t think of that because it’s such a well-kept secret! Good thing you clued me in!

As I point it out now, it sounds completely obvious and freaking stupid. But we do this to our families and friends all the time. We’re afraid for them, so we try to hold them back to something safer. Don’t start your own business, it might lose money. Don’t move to a new place, you might not like it. Don’t reach too high, you might fall. And that’s it right there. We don’t want them to fall or to fail, so we attempt to steer them to something safe and easy. We sabotage the people we love most in an effort to protect them. It’s sort of horrible when you realize you’re doing it, or that someone else is doing it to you.

So what to do about it: Well, when you’re the one guilty of it, you can try to realize that your fear is the problem, not their ambition. Maybe they won’t fail. Maybe they will, but they’ll learn something else and still make some gain from it. If you believe your concern is based on genuine issues of not being prepared for the step they want to take, help them find the resources they need. (In the example above, if I thought she seriously didn’t know the cost, I could have tried looking at scholarship-related info and sent that to her.)

If someone is doing this to you, recognize their reaction as fear rather than true lack of faith. (And if it’s true lack of faith, that’s a different problem, and you probably need to quit trying to get support from this person.) Gather the resources you need to achieve your goal, and keep moving toward it.

And when all that falls apart and your family sucks at supporting you anyway, try to realize that this is just how families are.