It seems that the feminism issue rears its head on the speculative fiction blogosphere about once every six months, maybe more frequently if you follow specific blogs in question. I'd been meaning, with certain trepidation, to throw my hat in, and now seems an opportune time as I have found myself unwittingly participating in one editor's salvo in response to the issues -- with a poem that is very firmly a women's-issues poem.

I do support positive initiatives to broaden any industry (I'm using one of "Broad Universe's" flyers as a bookmark in Old Man's War at the moment, actually), but the problem with much of the discussion on the internet -- which, like all internet discussions, should be taken with a liberal dose of salt -- is that it seems to remain so resoundingly negative and resentment-generating.

I have a certain experience releasing pain-filled screeds onto the internet. That's probably why I get so bothered by these discussions. Since 2004 I have been working hard in the games industry to raise awareness and facilitate advancement away from problems that I highlighted, and a certain amount of it is out of a sense of penance for releasing something so full of negative energy into the world. But I certainly understand the value and the periodic need for such things. I just also understand that at a certain point you have to start talking about and then enacting solutions, or you start to harm yourself and your cause.

You also have to be reasonably self-aware, and aware of your position in the grand scope of the universe. I find that herbal tea often helps with this. But to further define my place in these things, I spend a lot of my time in the video game world and talking to people in related media, and boy howdy, does the spec-fic scene ever not have as much to worry about as video games or comics when it comes to the feminist cause. So this is another angle on my perspective and my rating on what deserves screaming into the ether and what is making sufficient progress on its own.

Lately, an angry black woman says that you shouldn't get a cookie for doing the right thing (though in fairness to her she does cite John Klima's Electric Velocipede 14 as undeserving of backlash) -- and I think this is recent evidence of what troubles me in the generally numbers-based quantification of the alleged bias in genre fiction toward publishing male authors. I think that if your primary goal is a sense of self-righteousness and reassurance of being in the Right on a particular subject, yeah, maybe you don't give cookies for good behavior. But if your intent is to elicit change, cookies are exactly what you need to give, and then on top of that you need to open your own damn cookie-generating bakery.

I'm on a women's-issues-based mailing list for the International Game Developers Association, and these issues find their reflections in every area in which women are in the minority and are attempting to claim their stake. I've written my share of public contributions and commentaries on the state of the industry in these subjects; I like to think I know what I'm talking about and have proved that I am sufficiently vested in the issues. And, as they do in spec fic (and anything having to do with fanfiction), these subjects attract a lot of attention and comment from a very specific subset of readers -- and also scare off a lot of the majority, who feel that they can't comment for fear of being attacked or denigrated. And that's unfortunate, and mildly hypocritical. I don't personally like the fact that John Klima and folk like him have to be delicate about explaining decisions they've made for their own magazines.

What we did find in video games, with the caveat that I certainly don't speak for all or even most women in the field, is that the most effective way to actually enact change in the industry was just to make the video games we wanted to see. Lamenting about their lack, which I have done my share of, has a certain purpose, but the more you repeat yourself the more you weaken your argument. Action must follow thought or the thought is impotent. In games this meant a couple of things: a) mentoring promising female developers and creating a safe haven for them to enter the industry, which there certainly has not always been; b) advocating for the awareness of games that did feature rounded, dynamic, enjoyable female characters; c) leaping outside of the existing boundaries of the field to create new audiences.

That third issue is why I still say that the militant sci-fi feminist contingent (and believe me that I am all about the 'militant' in issues for which I have passion -- I'm just for effective militancy) needs to create their own female-themed magazine. It would be nice if they did not engage in quota-meeting -- quotas are sometimes effective in extreme circumstances where brute force methods are necessary to leaven a field in a state of grave imbalance, but I don't think that's the case in speculative fiction (or video games, for that matter). There actually was an attempt at a feminist science fiction online magazine focusing on heroic female characters -- it was short-lived, and I wish I could remember its name, but I seem to have lost track of it since it went under. But I think it was very much on the right track. I understand why it hasn't been done -- for one thing, starting a self-sustaining magazine of any kind is wickedly difficult -- but I think for these issues to achieve relevance there needs to be an element of market proof of concept. And I think it could be successful.

Positive action is the key. And there certainly is a good deal of positive action from quiet individuals around the community -- but there is also this loud contingent of seemingly impotent anger. I think that the error is in a mistake in focus. It is possible, though difficult, to change someone else's views by screaming at them incessantly, or by quoting statistics at them. But it is generally easier, less enemy-generating, and better for one's blood pressure to expand the market rather than trying to brute-force alter the market. The problem here is not one of willful bias on the part of totalitarian editors; it is a simple vacuum in the marketplace, a niche that is not yet adequately filled. It is a potential, not an injustice; a prosperity engine waiting to be harnessed.

I'm not telling anyone not to be angry. People are free to feel as they choose to feel. But if change is the true desire, there are faster and happier ways to it. Me, I don't feel sufficiently disenfranchised in this particular corner to take action on it. I don't have trouble selling stories, at least no more than the average writing acolyte does, and I have more than my fair share of pet injustices to right in the world. And, uh, I like a lot of guy-oriented fiction, and I don't have a problem seeing a lot of male authors on magazine covers. But would I be on board and prioritize sending submissions to a magazine that promised (and delivered) women-oriented fantasy and science fiction? You bet. And I bet I wouldn't be alone.

With Naomi Novik's recent announcement about the Organization for Transformative Works there's been a renewed energy in discussion of fanfiction and its impact on the specluative fiction community. I'm not really going to comment on the OTW -- I tend to concur with John Scalzi on its feasibility and potential danger to the fanfiction community itself. But particularly given my involvement with the BetterEULA project and interactive elements in storytelling in general, the discussion got me thinking about the intersection of reader participation and speculative fiction, and, of course, virtual world and video game space. No, video games can't solve all your problems. Just most of them.

I have to get this out of the way first: I don't generally like fanfiction. I don't read it, I don't write it, and when someone promising devotes a disproportionate amount of their time to writing fanfiction rather than creating their own worlds (and especially characters) I tend to get a little bit sad.

Further, I could not write about Harry Potter. Harry Potter is not mine. I think that characters are almost always foils of their authors in some intrinsic way, and I would no sooner march around with someone else's character -- especially uninvited -- than I would try on another person's skin. It is creepy to me on that level and I can honestly say always has been. I must be a freak, but I have simply never had the inclination to puppet someone else's creation.

I have, however, participated in shared worlds, in small doses. And I fully recognize that whether or not fanfiction tweaks my particular melon, its sheer proliferation indicates that there is a powerful human drive at work here, and smart authors and publishers are wise to ride that wave rather than trying to push it back in the bottle.

But here's the thing. I do think that unbridled fanfiction is actually harmful to an IP. Here's why.

1. Fictional worlds and fictional characters have themes and trajectories that fanfiction writers do not know about. Any author participating in even cursory worldbuilding has notes and copious information that doesn't make it into the main stage -- it is backstory in its simplest terms. By ignoring or operating without these background rules a derivative work is attempting to redefine a character or place in their own terms; they are inherently attempting to alter the IP without the owner's knowledge or, often, express agreement.

2. The more you let someone do something illegal, the more they will start to feel entitled to do so. Turning a blind eye will only work for so long before you start getting major problems, and by then there's no way to correct the situation without royally pissing off some of your most devoted fans. When you allow someone to spend a significant amount of time creating something, you are allowing them to invest, and if you spontaneously take away that investment, they are, pretty rightfully, going to be ticked off and never buy your work again.

3. Fanfiction dilutes an IP. It is not, as some have postulated, simply "expanding" a universe. It is not "transforming" anything. It is creating a myriad parallel universes in which things the original author did not intend happen all over the place. This is not immediately and inherently harmful, but when someone starts to invest in reading these parallel universes, they are storing up situations that did not happen. It's very similar to using cheat codes in a video game. A little bit of it isn't going to hurt anyone, but when it is systemic and sustained eventually you are going to lose the entire concept of what the original game was, because a game, like a world, is defined by its limitations or parameters, which fanfiction and cheat codes generally exist to remove.

All of these considerations are purely in terms of the integrity of the story itself, and don't even take into consideration the potential and historic legal pitfalls that exist when you allow fans free rein over your world.

But I assert that by looking closely at what fans are getting out of the fanfiction experience -- and it appears to be an awful lot (what do they want? A sandbox! when do they want it? Yesterday!) -- it is possible to provide them those advantages and satisfactions without falling victim to the many dangerous pits surrounding the relinquishing of IP. Video games allow interactivity every day without surrendering their creative rights. If you play your cards right, with a little sensitive attention you can turn fanfiction energy into an engine that drives a fanbase, builds a community, and satisfies your readers when you're not laying a book in front of them.

Containing fanfiction has already been attempted. In fact, a year ago someone caught on to monetizing it in a serious way. How it's working out for them monetarily I have no idea, but I tend to concur with those on Making Light who said they would likely burn through their cash and then pop like a soap bubble. It looks like they've made a soldiering attempt to build some community there, but it looks like trying to build a community around a mall, which has never panned out very well.

Outside of video game territory, the primary shared world I participated in was Pern fandom. Anne McCaffrey, way ahead of the curve (because, like new models for online magazines, I believe that interactivity in fiction is ultimately the wave of the future, and that includes derivative work), saw what her fans were doing and gave them some guidelines to behave by if they were sharing her world. It wasn't handled perfectly, through little fault of hers, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything else of its kind that I've seen.

Here are, in my opinion, the critical things that Pern fandom did:

1. It split the universe, deliberately creating a definably separate parallel universe for the Pern world where specific world-altering events did or did not happen. This separated the sandboxes of McCaffrey's Pern and her fans' Pern without changing major sensory features such as landscape, world mechanics, or environmental feel. This was a stroke of genius that prevented Pern from going the way of Darkover. Bulletproof? No, but close enough.

2. It gave fans rules by which to create their characters, even employing some basic random number generation. This is like pouring a nice fat dish of agar for your community. Using some very simple game mechanics, it ensured that participants had an even field and some baselines to play by -- and also an achievement ladder that they could climb. The Pern fangroup also provided an entire system by which new fangroups, or "Weyrs", could be created. This egalitarian mindset helped ensure that Pern was, for the most part, an amazingly peaceful, pleasant place to be.

3. It allowed participants a huge degree of freedom in their choice of expressive media, whether that was text storytelling, live (text) roleplay, craft-making, textile-art, or even game creation (MU*s). There was very little in terms of expression you could request permission for from the fandom and be told "no". And resultingly some players created some amazing things -- cookbooks, sculptures, costumes, and more.

4. It actually grew the world by requiring that players created their own characters rather than manipulating the characters of the author. "Canon" characters were off limits and could not be given dialogue or represented in more than a passing reference fashion. This kept McCaffrey's novels further distinct and commoditized while presenting a very reasonable and acceptable alternative for fans that encouraged them to have personal investment and engage creatively with the world.

The cohesiveness of this system meant that fans were provided a clear, sanctioned, fun playground to exercise their creativity in. Not only was McCaffrey protecting her IP, she was encouraging some amazing creativity amongst her fans. She was having them engage in some of the most compelling elements that would later feed the explosion of massively multiplayer online games -- in a simple, clear way and in her own world, encouraging them to create characters to which they would form indelible lasting attachments.

Could players break the rules? Sure. And they did. There were a few major kerfluffles in the fandom that I was aware of, and all of them resulted in lack of maintenance from McCaffrey directly on the system. Fan systems do need to be maintained and at large capacities become organisms that need attention if they are to avoid going feral. Some Weyrs did go feral, and a few of them were even put down for it -- all stemming from the groups engaging in activities for long periods of time (years) that the original creator did not know about. Once McCaffrey did know, she felt that her world theme was compromised, and felt compelled to take action to correct it. This drove away a not insignificant number of fans, as their investments were taken -- and illustrates the importance of maintaining a communication line between the IP originator and the major arteries of the fan groups.

But despite these hiccups, relatively few people actually deliberately ignored McCaffrey's wishes. Why would they? She'd given them the core of what they wanted. And if anyone did piss in the sandbox by defying her, the entire community would typically rise up and smite them down -- McCaffrey didn't even have to lift a finger. Fans generally have a great deal of respect for the creators of the works they wish to occupy; if they are treated with respect in return, they'll do tremendous things for you.

Authors and owners of secondary worlds have started to crawl their way onto the Internet, some of them kicking and screaming. The next step is for them to give some focused, competent attention to their fans and the careful growth of community. I think it is no coincidence at all that some of the most prolific fangroups concern worlds created by women. Fan groups need to be nurtured and understood -- while still treated with firmness when they go astray.

Would I build on McCaffrey's foundation? Sure. In lots of ways. But that foundation does exist and, rather than allowing the fan community to run wild and untended, it behooves the owners of IP to take a proactive role in letting them into their worlds. Reader creativity and participation is here to stay, and, properly leveraged, it can be one way that books can effectively compete with live media. As usual, the solution exists in looking for potential rather than burying our heads in the sand until the explosion comes.

And that is about as far as my French gets!

Like most, I don't quite know what to think of this second sale of livejournal, but this discussion of the specifics on Slashdot was quite interesting. The future of Russia on the Internet is not something that has figured largely into projections for the cyber-future, but it certainly contains some most interesting potential... and certainly the intersection of non-English-speaking communities with the American-heavy majority is something we will see more and more.

The mention in this Wired article of the Pepsi assault on Barak Berkowitz's gift account page is brilliant and so indicative of the uniqueness, intelligence, and passion of the LJ community. Full of drama, sure -- but give me that any day over apathy. illucian, you're on the first page of gifts! You all are amazing. Keep on keepin' on.

A busy week and Monday is barely over. But all of you magazine types looking to get into online marketing -- you should have a Zazzle store. It is like CafePress on E. GoPets has one, and even more designs should be available soon.

Jeff Murray over at Fuel Industries posted this very kind writeup of my presentation at MIGS:

Later that day, Erin Hoffman blew my mind with her presentation ‘Plugged in: Why game developers make great parents’. With a title like that, I was expecting something all airy fairy and went along out of pure curiosity as to what it meant. To my absolute surprise, Hoffman spoke fast and meant every word. I found myself literally nodding throughout her whole presentation. There were times when it felt like I had stumbled into some kind of underground movement to overthrow the government; true revelations. The atmosphere was electric and my mind was racing at the possibilities - if we don’t try to change the way that the games industry is perceived in the media, it’s going to have huge implications further down the line.

Hoffman goes on to talk about how parents who build games are more in touch with their kids and their kids’ culture. Game developers know more about games, which means a more informed choice about what is suitable for their kids to play. Perhaps game developers are more likely to pick up the titles that reflect their family values, family ‘moral code’ or encourage mental or physical development in particular areas. That is opposed to the typical parent who would not make such informed decisions. In my book, that reads ‘people who allow their 3 year old to baseball bat old people in Grand Theft Auto when they’re off down the pub’.

It was difficult for the talk not to sidestep into a discussion on violence in videogames, which is a shame since there are so many more interesting things to talk about. Hoffman detailed the ‘good stuff’ and cited some fantastic examples; What good can games do? How are games being usedto help real world situations and problems? Well, I think that probably deserves a separate blog post from me as it’s a broader topic than I can do justice in my ‘highlights of MIGS’.

I can dig it. Jason DR also says that the whole event was "snowed under with awesomeness" over at RealityPanic and gives a quick, if briefer, rundown of the convention. The segues in my session into the subject of violence in video games, and its effect (or lack thereof) on fragile minds, did absorb much of the discussion, which is my fault -- but I do maintain that the two concepts are irrevocably intertwined. We cannot talk about the role of parents in games without addressing the public image of games in the media sphere. But that, and censorship, will be the topic of this week's column over at the Escapist, so I'll shut up here. The discussion of parents and games is really just beginning.

Photos from Montreal are up here and I am caught a few times, least awkwardly in this one from the talk itself. Yay! There are other photos in that album from the event -- again overall a very cool experience. Now if I could just catch up on my email...