Women in Horror Month was quiet this year. It took until March for social media to explode with controversy involving women and POC in horror, this time about a popular anthology and the distinct lack of diversity in the table of contents. Adding fuel to the fire was the anthology editor’s Facebook comments that ranged from unprofessional to downright rude.
I know some of the people in the table of contents of this antho, and I’ve met said editor at Necon and AnthoCon. I don’t know him well. I never formally introduced myself and made a point to network with him and he gave me the same treatment. I would not consider him a “friend” in the traditional sense, but I nevertheless hesitate to raise my voice with the crowd in calling him out for a perceived bias that may or may not exist. Something I absolutely despise about social media and blogs is how people assume, with absolute authority, the intentions and feelings of someone they know nothing about.
What I can add without assumption are my own reactions to this editor’s comments. I found his response to questions about his anthology belittling and unprofessional, indicative of a superiority complex that screams of elitism that I wish would die in genre fiction. If I’d been on the receiving end of his tirade, I would be completely crushed to powder. Chuck Wendig added on Facebook that he received a rejection from this editor once that was “so savage, I actually thought about quitting writing” and after reading the comment threads, I don’t doubt it. Thank God you didn’t quit, Chuck, but I’m wondering if there are any authors out there who did. That thought makes me sad.
What deserves more discussion, however, is this question: How long is horror going to accept the “words on a page are all I look at” excuse from editors as a blanket defense for remaining in their comfort zone? Does anyone actually believe that “the best stories” are mostly from white men? The clichéd answer of “I don’t care if you’re black or white or green or purple,” only holds weight if there is action behind that claim and the final TOC is reflective the slush pile of most anthologies and magazines. As a former slush reader for Shock Totem, I can only speak to my own experience. There’s a lot of good stuff out there from women. Not a few stories, but I’d say more than half the stories I read and truly enjoyed were from women authors.
The slush pile does not exist in a vacuum. Lazy editors would like their critics to swallow an unlikely explanation that pure skill, the genderless, racially void, purity of ink on a page, is the only thing that matters. If talent alone was enough for recognition and publication, I know half a dozen authors who would be far better known and frequently paid. Networking matters, and when certain editors aren’t trying to make excuses for their bias, subconscious or no, they would in the same breath gladly dole out career advice that sounds a lot like this: It’s all about who you know.
When a new author limits themselves socially, they are being foolish and missing out on opportunity. An experienced editor with a large following and the respect of the community has far more power. When someone with a big name and influence closes their networking circle and doesn’t make themselves accessible or approachable to new talent, exclusion is the inevitable outcome. Exclusion is more subtle than outright discrimination, which makes it so much harder to discuss without vitriol and accusations of sensitivity or division. “Everyone is the same! You’re the one dividing us!” seems to be the common cry of those who are the most blind to their own privilege.
This past month I listened to Brian Keene’s radio show. He had John Goodrich on with him, and the question was asked (forgive me, I don’t remember the exact wording and I’m too lazy to search through the entire broadcast for it) how the horror community could be more inclusive toward women, and John sighed heavily and said “I really don’t know.” I could hear the frustration in his voice. I see similar reactions from men in the horror community who are true allies and just don’t know how to help women and POC in the most effective way.
There is no simple answer. The most hurtful actions to my career have been very subtle, noticeable perhaps only to me. I’ve been mansplained by editors behind closed doors. I’ve had my accomplishments minimalized. I’ve had people show me their back instead of welcoming me in to conversations. At Boskone, I had an author close me out of a conversation circle by crowding me out and then literally standing in front of me when I turned away to say hello to someone else. He didn’t bother to introduce himself to me, but later he had a lengthy conversation with my husband.
As an author with a husband who is also an author, I notice how we are treated differently. I notice how we are spoken to and in what context, how people listen to him with more attentiveness, how his ideas are given more weight. Nobody stands up in the middle of a crowded room and announces they are a misogynist. Exclusion is built not on large acts of violence but on small gestures that culminate over time into women being marginalized while men are celebrated as “the best.” Certain authors and editors shrug in response and say “What do you want me to do?” like they’re powerless to stop it.
My suggestion for how horror can become more inclusive is this: Be as professional and friendly as possible to everyone, not just those who are in your comfort zone. Go to a convention and seek out new faces, not just your old friends. Treat me like a person, not your dating pool. That means we can be friends and professionals, even if you don’t find me attractive or are disappointed that I’m married and there’s no chance you’ll get me into bed. That sounds so defensive, like my next suggestion would be for everyone to go bra-burning, but honestly, you’d be shocked how much easier it is to network with men when you’re single or devastatingly hot. Since I am neither of those things, I would love to be judged on my personality and talent and treated like a friend. You know—just like how most men judge each other.
If you are established, extend opportunity to others who might not be getting their fair shake. Even out the playing field. There are already amazing leaders in the horror community doing this. They are reaching out to the next generation of authors and opening up doors for women and POC. It made me smile to see editors commenting on social media to discussions regarding diversity, asking “How can we be more inclusive?” with genuine eagerness to create a better community where everyone has equal opportunity for success.
I would also like to see more women authors putting themselves on the front lines, pushing for change and equal treatment, demanding to be validated and recognized for their talents and accomplishments. We can’t marginalize ourselves by waiting for February to have a voice. Be the loudest voice in the room every month of the year.
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