Velvet Threads

I've been reading a lot of contemporary YA (ie non-fantasy, set in the real world) over the last couple of years and something has been niggling at me lately - where are the non-white characters?

I have managed to read quite a lot dealing with LBGT characters thanks to Lee Wind's blog, but very little that deals with cultures other than Anglo Americans, Anglo Australians, and Anglo Brits.

But I want mooooore different kind of teens. Not just the skinny white girls who haven't got breasts yet. Or the slightly (ever so slightly) heavier white girls. I'd love to see more books dealing with different cultures, and particularly in which the protagonist (and not just the best friend or the second best friend) are non-white. The whole point of reading lots of books is to get to see into many different windows, not just the same one over and over.

And yay, Colleen Mondor has addressed this in a recent post, asking for some opinions on why there isn't enough diversity in YA. I must say I was far more interested in the first few responses which are actually from non-white authors, than the many self-confessed "as a white middle-class woman..." opinions but the whole piece is worth reading as part of a (hopefully) larger discussion.

A shame not to see more editors and agents weighing in on the topic, though!

When you're nearly 8 months pregnant, everything is multi-tasking...

According to official schedules, I should have my hospital bag packed by Friday. I have dealt with this deadline by buying three pairs of pyjamas.

Current novel wordcount is about 67,000 words, which is 7,000 more than at the beginning of this month. Still managing 1000 words a day but it's a struggle every time, momentum has not yet kicked in. I have a horrible feeling that I am writing this novel Trent Jamieson style - not that Trent's results are anything to be sneezed at but my inner brain can't help wondering if right now is an appropriate time to be experimenting. I keep telling my writerly brain that it's time to write rich emotional scenes but no, brain just wants to sketch outlines that can be filled in later, and flit from scene to scene, leaving huge gaps in its wake. Damned brain.

My recent addition to the list of 'it counts as nesting, honestly' pursuits have been obsessively reading Mummyblogs, feminist blogs and my favourite, feminist mummy blogs. (my favourite new discovery is Blue Milk an Australian blogger who so fascinated me with her discussions of motherhood, feminism, identity and the work conflict that I found myself reading her ENTIRE BLOG over about 3-4 days - it was like travelling in time: oh look, Kevin Rudd's apologising to the stolen generation, oh hey look, economy is booming)

I assured myself that this was an entirely sensible method of reminding myself of what it is like to be the parent of a baby, and it all counts as preparation for Life As We Know It to change quite drastically.

However today I find myself obsessively reading amusing recaps of Sweet Valley High novels and am forced to admit that maybe this latter part of babymaking just brings the crazy.

Controversy is, of course, a great way to sell a book.

Given that I utterly adore Margo Lanagan's brutal fairy tale novel Tender Morsels and believe that it's one of the most important fantasy novels of the last decade, I should be utterly delighted by this article in the Observer.

According to the headline, parents are "alarmed over sex assault in children's novel," though if you read the actual article, no parental quotes are cited. The writer merely suggests in the first paragraph that the use of the word "slut" on the first page (which Margo has said elsewhere was intended to warn people what kind of book it was) and the sex scene between a witch and a dwarf might be seen as an 'end to children's literature.'

The actual quoted respondents to the book are mostly children's authors [the words YA or Young Adult are never mentioned in the article].

Anne Fine: "If you look at online reviews, nearly all the parents think it is quite unsuitable. Many of the children loved the book but among the girls, a lot of them found it frightening or even repulsive... I have to wonder generally whether a children's publisher does not sometimes have a responsibility to stop and say that although a shocking new book will make money, and even be popular, it does not have what the Americans call 'redeeming social importance'."

Again, references to children, without age references, suggests that we could be talking about anyone from 7 to 17 year olds. Bit of a difference, Anne. Also, how patronising is that last sentence?

Phillip Pullman: "I don't think there should be areas that children's books can't deal with. Why should there be, given that children are likely to encounter much stronger subjects in real life, ranging from divorce - which once used to be something terrible and awful that you must not talk about - to drug trafficking and sex?"

Much better and much more on target - as you would expect for someone who understands the difference between books teenagers might read and those for nine-year-olds - Pullman also makes some fair points about cover art and how it can be used to inform reader expectation.

There are also some nice quotes from the publisher, and from Michael Rosen.

I am just a touch boggled that nowhere in the article does it make it clear that the two different editions are aimed at adults and teenagers. Surely there is a YA culture in Britain like in the US and Australia?

EDIT: Margo responds to the Observer article.

Today has been about cleaning, sorting, organising. We have actually managed to reclaim our old bedroom, which is destined to return to being Parenting Suite Mk II (it's the only room big enough for bed and bassinet/crib and change table, etc.) while our current room at the back of the house will be Anti-Parenting Escape Pod and Guest Room.

Not so much nesting as 'clearing away six old nests to make way for a shiny new one.'

We have been slogging away at PSMII for several weekends, uncovering layers of Stuff and Clean Laundry and Whoa, Not So Clean Laundry and Well, Where Else Were We Going to Put It? and today we finally turned a corner, setting the bed up so that it is ready for human consumption.

We're actually - gulp - almost ready for baby. At 34 weeks! Still a bit of essential shopping to do, but mostly ready. Having things like the change table (aka soft mat on top of chest of drawers) is bringing back a lot of memories, and reminding us that yes, the nuts and bolts of looking after a baby, we can do that.

(possibly I have spent the last two days immersed in feminist parenting blogs, displacement, me? never)

I got a bit over-ambitious and attacked the dread bookshelves by the front door which are basically my to-read pile but somehow turned into the 'put that piece of paper down there, that's a good place for it' heap of crap. It feels amazing to have cleared it all out (and um, GJ, possibly I found a few things I thought were lost forever, *innocent eyes*).

I am adopting the Deb Biancotti method of ridding oneself of books - anyone who visits my house, there is a box of books by the door that you will be forced to look through to see if there is anything you want to take with you. When the box gets too full it can go to the local bookshop. Just as long as it is AWAY from me. I have several boxfuls that could go already...

I used to be a book hoarder, but no longer. Too many years of Aurealis Award judging, reviewing books, and just acquiring those damned papery things. If I'm not going to read it again, out it goes. *ruthless Tansy*

In honour of Alice Hoffman, Maureen Johnson (@maureen johnson) sent out a plea for an author feud and is currently involved in hostilities with, among others, John Green (@realjohngreen), Cassandra Clare (@cassieclare), Justine Larbalestier (@JustineLavaworm), Sarah Rees Brennan (@sarahreesbrenna), Scott Westerfeld (@scottwesterfeld) and even, quite possibly, Neil Gaiman (@neilhimself).

It was a very entertaining conversation to wake up to.

Also the creator of the Edward/Buffy mash up describes his feminist intentions and the effect of the vid - a fascinating guy, and was anyone else as genuinely shocked as I was to see there was a bloke behind it? I do like how much credit he gives to the women-heavy world of fandom and vidding.

I particularly thought it was interesting that he chose to make the vid about Edward (with Bella's behaviour criticised only by implication in her replacement by the far more self-aware and less passive Buffy): "I didn’t feel it was my place to lecture her on desire (even in remix form), especially since her character is already disempowered by the original screenplay to the point of absurdity."

I thought it was just a cute and funny mash up, but so much thought went into it! Awesome.

The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan - lovely demon and magical worldbuilding, plus sibling relationships, great dialogue and wicked twists. Worth the wait but now I have to hold out for book 2!!! (it works as a standalone now, don't wait, read it NOW)

Worldshaker by Richard Harland - the quirky style and morbid sense of humour and wordplay Richard displayed most evidently in cult horror book The Black Crusade translates marvellously to YA here in this twisted steampunk schoolboy revolution story. A must read of Aussie spec fic for the year.

Peace, Love and Baby Ducks by Lauren Myracle - my favourite Myracle book so far, an insightful YA drama about the love-hate-rivals-friends relationship of two teen sisters close in age, and the way that a sister can wound you more effectively than anyone else, but also patch you up when you need it. Raw and funny at the same time, as the best contemporary YA novels are. And I always love to read a girl novel where friendships and siblings are given greater narrative importance than romance.

I also tore through Ally Carter's Don't Judge a Girl by her Cover in one sitting, and came close to that with the practically-vintage Girls in Love and Girls Under Pressure by Jacqueline Wilson, the latter being a devastatingly realistic look at the mindset of a teenager developing eating disorders, and how easy it is to fall into that kind of pattern. Melissa Marr's Ink Exchange was fluid and lovely but suffered even more from the emotional distance I noticed in the first book of the series, Gwyneth Jones' Spirit was challenging but excellent (a review should appear on ASif soon), Louise Rennison's Angus, thongs and full-frontal snogging and It's okay I'm wearing really big pants were an equal balance of entertaining and annoying (so glad I'm not fourteen any more, so glad, so glad) and Laurell K Hamilton's Skin Trade featured Edward more than any other regular male character, and thus gets a thumb's up despite suffering from 70% more passive aggressive self-justifying conversations than any decent novel actually needs.

My tally for the year so far is 47 books. I think I'm aiming for 100, or half of a pre-motherhood Tansytally. There will be lots more reading time once that baby arrives (nearly 34 weeks, head is down, lots of kicking, hooray) and I glue myself to the Breastfeeding Chair for several hours out of every day. Unless I work out how to breastfeed and use my laptop at the same time, in which case it will be business as usual.

Why yes, I did get my daughter to school early and then mwaited in the car while I eyeballed the street around us, just to check that other parents had brought their kinder kids in fancy dress (something beginning with P!) and I had after all got the right date.

For the record, she went as a princess. Of course. Pink petal dress over stripey top, conical damsel hat (what is the NAME for those things?) purple tights and sneakers. My little punk princess. (and she was totally the cutest of all the princesses)

Belatedly, I am catching up on The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making, the serialised children's fantasy novel by Catherynne M Valente.

The first three chapters are up, and I enjoyed them greatly - Valente is nicely carrying off the stylised 'nonsense fantasy' tradition of classic stories like Peter Pan and Wendy, Alice in Wonderland, etc, with occasional modern elements thrown in ala Roald Dahl, making for a very pleasing mix.

I certainly prefer it already to Clive Barker's Abarat which tried and struggled to do much the same thing a few years ago, and came across as far more affected. I certainly plan to keep reading as new chapters come out!

TV Buffy is twelve years old, omg (hyperventilates)...

It's actually quite a good round up of the biggest author names in the genre, and what sets their books apart from each other. There's a hint of the male/female divide and some smart observations about the way people perceive the genre as an offshoot from romance even when some of the authors/books patently aren't connected to romance at all, just because of the gender of the authors and audience.

I also liked the point about how, for all the constant bemoaning about the sex-to-plot ratio in Laurell K's Anita Blake series, it's the interminable talking about Anita's sex life that is actually most annoying. I certainly don't have a problem with sex as narrative, but I could certainly do without Anita's ridiculously long-winded self-justifications and passive aggressive conversations with her many boyfriends. (Richard in particular I want to throw off a roof) Why yes, I do still read them, shut up.

Lynne Jamneck is over at Ripping Ozzie Reads, talking about the highlights and pitfalls of anthology editing. Come on over and join the conversation!

I have officially shipped Power and Majesty: Book One of the Creature Court off to HarperCollins Voyager. It's a good feeling. Now I just have to write another book before the end of the year (it's half done), have a baby, and finish book 3 by next July. Piece of cake.

Wow, the "33 weeks pregnant bubble of denial" is WICKED.

If you haven't been keeping up with the ROR blog, Ripping Ozzie Reads (rippingoz_reads), it's been lively lately:

Dave Luckett dropped in as our guest to ask whether it was still really a big deal for men to write female protagonists and vice versa
Richard Harland follows up on the same topic
I had a bit of a rant about a Guardian reporter who told people to stop sneering at fantasy fans while simultaneously repeating every dumb and out of date cliche about fantasy and its readers
And most recently, Trent, Rowena and Tansy all weighed in on what their writing process actually is (or isn't).

While I'm sharing linky goodness, there are never enough comedy Snape fanvids in the world.

My review of The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan is up at ASif!

Possibly other people know about this already but can I just say woohoo, new Miyazaki film! I really like what he has to say about his female heroes, and why he prefers female protagonists.

Raeli recently discovered Spirited Away and has been watching it obsessively which is... a touch odd in a 4.5 year old? I would have thought it was too scary for her, but no. She seems fascinated by it. I look forward to watching this one with her.

And it really is time I got my own copy of Howl's Moving Castle

I spent today at the Tasmanian Quilt Show, shopping (with remarkable restraint, really) and admiring pretty things with a gang of my best girls. It's always nice to see your own quilt on display (even if mine suffered from embarrassing hanging sleeve fail and flopped a bit at the top) but even more exciting to see so many other projects that Hobart crafters have been working on.

We were particularly inspired by the idea of journal quilts - making an A4 size piece per month - and have resolved (sort of) to give it a try. I am keen to make some small Aufleur-inspired artworks and this could be the way to go with that.

The marvellous and saintly Helen, AKA The Enabler (owner of the mighty vroom machine) turned out to be one of the judges of this year's show! Sneaky woman, she never said a word to us about it!

I picked up a bit of fabric but nothing dramatic - I was feeling a bit conservative about funds and I'm not really in huge pre-quilt frame of mind right now. The one thing I wanted - a bazillion pre-cut paper templates - was yet again nowhere on sale. Seriously, people. You could squeeze a FORTUNE out of me. I was complaining about this loudly to godiyeva and an elderly lady turned around and commented (there was a lot of this at the quilt show - people interrupting private conversations to give their unasked for advice, what do they think this is, Twitter?) that I should do it myself, it was easy enough even if fiddly and I could devote a "rainy afternooon" to it.

HA. godiyeva cracked up over the concept that I could spend more than ten minutes doing a repetitive task that involves measuring (she knows me so well) while I boggled at the thought of having a spare rainy afternoon. Seriously. These people are crazy.

Speaking of crazy, I felt remarkably oppressed at the Quilt Fair. Once you pass the 7 month part of being pregnant, you become infused with a certain sense of personal entitlement. People are more careful around you, will make sure you have a chair if you need one (heh you only have to faint in a bank queue once) and generally speaking will not barge into you even if they have spotted a bargain or they really need to join the coffee queue.

Not so at the Quilt Show! I suspect that the sheer number of women with similar senses of personal entitlement - the elderly, the disabled, general bastions of matronly rudenss, bargain-hunters - somehow cancels everything out and so my magical circle of pregnancy protection was gone. I spent most of the day having people step into, barge into and in some cases slam into my personal space, with nary a glance at my waistline.

I am a special and delicate flower, damn you all, stop treading on my feet!

I think this was the 4th quilt show that godiyeva and I have attended since she came to live with Helen and the Enabling began, and we finally learned our lesson to take a packed lunch rather than queue up for 45 minutes to score a luke-warm pie and 'muffin' (I'm sorry, if it's smaller than your average cupcake, it is NOT a muffin). We warned our entire posse who turned up not only with their own lunches and drink bottles, but also chocolates (love you, looneymoth) and homemade lemon slice (Mel is a goddess).

We felt very smug and civilised to discover that yes, despite the fact that the queues are disgustingly long every single year (the coffee one was worse than the food, and like that all day), nothing new had been done to alleviate the problem. Likewise, just as in all previous years, an event peopled with mostly mature women was catered for as if it was a bog-standard 1980's school canteen.

So yes, we won completely at bringing our own lunch and finally scored a table in the cafeteria despite requiring something like a military operation to acquire seven chairs.

But the important thing is, I didn't faint, throw up or in any way overtire myself, despite the fact that I came close to doing all three last year without being pregnant.

Now I get to relax in my oddly quiet house, as my child is stranded with her grandfather at his place until the RACT comes to fix his car. It's a good day...

After months (MONTHS, I tell you) of sitting on this news we can finally celebrate (with what else, cupcakes of death) Trent Jamieson becoming an Orbit author with his cool, kick-ass Aussie urban paranormal novel series Death Works, beginning with Death Most Definite.

I read DMD at ROR this year and loved it - Trent has taken a popular sub-genre and written something unlike any of his previous work. Oh, there are some familiar themes - plenty of death and doomed love and sharp, gruesome humour, but Trent at novel style is a very different beast to short story Trent. It's a fast and furious read and I am so looking forward to seeing what he does with the two contracted sequels.

Check out Trent's own announcement here.

*does the happy dance*

Laini Taylor, one of my favourite artists, is about three weeks more pregnant than I am (yes there ARE degrees of pregnancy!) and recently wrote a lovely post about how people treat pregnant women and their bodies, and particularly the boggling things they think are okay to say to someone who is pregnant.

The comments are lovely, celebrating Laini and her pregnancy and sharing all kinds of tales of the presumptions people make about pregnancy and pregnant body image.

Thanks to Colleen Mondor, I just found a blogger who is working on a re-read of the Trixie Belden books in order.

Of all the books I am stupidly nostalgic about from my childhood, these are perhaps the most ingrained (with Swallows and Amazons coming a close second). I've been building my own collection of beloved yellow paperbacks, having been cruelly forced to sell my originals as a world-travelling pre-teen.

Sarah's recaps are bringing it all back, and I just hope she keeps it up! LJ feed is sarah_rettger.

Meanwhile, Colleen has an awesome post on the Girl Detective then and now.

The sheer shock of working for a living outside the house for a fortnight (not even every day, don't think this is remotely impressive, people) has driven me to the couch with a laptop. Every part of me is exhausted. Especially the part that spent 10 minutes negotiating with the chemist over the fact that they had bizarrely put the specific bio-iron tablets I needed on special, and thus there were none to be sold.

I would have hopped in the car and gone to a different chemist, but LACK OF IRON MAKES ME TIRED. Finally she pointed out that in our tiny shopping centre of less than 10 shops, there was in fact a health food shop. Which, as it turned out, had exactly the right kind of tablets. Only one dollar more expensive than the ones which did not exist.

My couch recovery is entirely responsible for the fact that I have now joined Twitter. Oh yes, I have. I was missing out on things, people.

If you want me, I am tansyrr over there. Do not get up any hopes about me friending you back. Forming comprehensible sentences is currently the maximum achievement I can muster. But I would be happy to know your user names if you wish to share them.

Also, does anyone know how I can do that thing where Twitter automatically updates Facebook? I want to do that thing. That way the people on Facebook may stop worrying as to whether or not I am alive. I am pretty sure that I am!

In other news, the latest Lauren Myracle book, Peace, Love and Baby Ducks is brilliant.

I actually love being pregnant. There are people in my life (you know who you are, godiyeva who look at me in bewilderment when I say such a thing, but it's true. I loved it when I have having Raeli (aka Button) and I am enjoying it just as much with Little Kick. Yes, there are tiresome parts, like indigestion and back ache and being kicked repeatedly in a way that gets less cute the more actual heel and toe is involved. (soccer, definitely soccer for this one)

But I bond early with my babies, and I rather like sharing my body with another person. Even a cheeky little person who is already demanding to be a part of our conversations. The fact that this is (according to PLAN) the last time I'm going to be doing this only makes it more special. Yes, as with last time, I'm in complete denial about the whole labour/baby production aspect, but what the hell. It's just one day out of our lives. (cough, if lucky) This nine months is unique, and I'm trying to savour it as much as possible.

There are some lifestyle changes since last time I did this thing. I'm not desperately trying to finish a thesis, I'm desperately trying to finish a novel. (well the desperate part is more trying to get as much as possible of novel #2 done to allow myself maternity leave) I'm not going into my postgrad office 3-4 days a week (and just a couple of weeks of exam work have made me very happy about that) but I have nice internet people to chat to, to stop me going stir crazy.

This time around I have a 4.5 year old to get to school, pick up from school, entertain, give breakfast to, and generally wrangle. That's a definite difference. On the other hand I have the ability to drive which makes life SO MUCH EASIER.

On the other hand, I think my brain is melting. Like, out of my ears. I've always been a touch scatty (I keep lists for a reason!) but pregnancy has made it ten times worse. I say I'm going to do something and have forgotten five minutes later. I swear, if it wasn't for my laptop, I would be staring mindlessly at walls for hours at a time. People keep saying hello to me on the street and I do not know who they are. (obviously if you are reading this and you stopped me on the street recently to chat then of course I don't mean YOU)

Minions of Twitter, I am weakening. Now is the time to convince me that your path is the path of righteousness. 140 characters is looking awfully good right now...

While reading the last article I linked to I discovered this marvellous essay: Sports Corsetry and the Empowerful Woman, which beautifully lays out the reason that feminists get so narked about the concept (so lovingly presented by today's media) of the modern woman who is so Empowerful that she doesn't need feminism...

The empowerful woman is saucy, yet feminine. Clever, yet feminine. In her early thirties, yet feminine. Heterosexual, yet feminine. Stays in shape eating Lean Cuisine and sweating blue Gatorade while kickboxing in slow motion, yet feminine. Yes, the empowerful woman is many things. Too bad powerful isn’t one of them. That’s because feminine is all of them.