Patterns in the Nebula finalist list

I had mentioned in the comments section of my announcement of the Nebula finalists that I thought recent shifts in the makeup of the SFWA membership had led to changes in the ballot. To clarify, this is the sudden appearance of indie press military/hard SF on the finalists list when it had been recently trending (as in most awards) to primarily female and fantasy nominees. As it turns out, some other people noticed this pattern shift, too. In the last few days, there has been a huge and embarrassing battle raging on Twitter about a recommended reading list posted before the vote at 20booksto50K a self-publishing writers co-op. Although the post stated that this was NOT intended as a slate, it was still taken that way by some readers who claimed it had unfairly influenced the results.

Annie Bellet and Marko Kloos (apparently still suffering from PTSD acquired from their experience with the 2015 Hugos) challenged the list on Twitter and demanded that the finalists whose stories had appeared on it withdraw. Author of the post Jonathan Brazee immediately issued an apology and offered to withdraw his novella from consideration. Other nominees hunkered down in horror and kept their mouths shut, as did the SFWA Officers and Board of Directors. However, Sri Lankan writer Yudhanjaya Wijeratne, angered by racist accusations that he cheated because he couldn’t otherwise make it as a POC, stepped up to fight it out. Welcome to the SFF community Yudhanjaya Wijeratne. Bellet and Yudhanjaya eventually kissed and made up on Twitter, but not before fairly serious damage was done to both their reputations.

I’m sure no one knew who Yudhanjaya was before his name appeared on the Nebula finalist list. For folks still in the dark, he is an established novelist and a hybrid writer, with both traditional and self-published works. His novelette “Messenger” with R.R. Virdi appeared in the anthology The Expanding Universe 4, and scored 15 recommendations on the 2018 Nebula reading list, plenty of votes to get the nomination without any slate. So, this comes off like another case of bullying successful POC writers.

See File 770 for a roundup of posts on the issue here and here. See Yudhanjaya’s blog here about this enlightening experience with the Nebulas so far.

Moving on to some other observations, once you get to looking for patterns in the Nebula finalist list, then there are at least a couple more that show up. I had meant to discuss this after the reviews, but since it’s been pointed out on other venues, this seems to be a better time. The dominance of certain traditional publishers on the list is troubling, for example, Tor. In the categories where Tor publishes (novelette, novella, novel) about half of the finalists this year were released by Tor. I’ve discussed this issue in the past, and the most likely explanation is the system of promotion, which includes give-aways, recommended reading lists, and reviews and recommendations in elite publications. I really almost think I could predict the finalists from a review of these promotions, and the same choices tend to appear in the Hugo Awards. The promotions determine what books everyone has read, so they become the award-winners, too.

The last pattern that shows up in the Nebulas is the inclusion of SFWA insiders on the list. This year, four members of SFWA Board of Directors out of five appear on the list of finalists, including: Sarah Pinsker, Andy Duncan, Lawrence Schoen and Kelly Robson. According to the rules, officers are ineligible for Nebula nominations because of their administrative access, but board members remain eligible. Mary Robinette Kowal, in line for president next year, is also a finalist. When asked about this on the SFWA forum, board members brushed it off as inconsequential.

There are also some patterns in the themes and styles this year, but I’ll get to that in my wrap up after the reviews.

A Question about Double Standards

The Nebula nominations are closed now, so while they’re producing the list of finalists for review, I’ll talk about something else for a few days. First, a question seems to have arisen this week about whether racist Internet bullies and/or abusers should be forgiven even if it looks like they’ve reformed their ways, or whether they should be blacklisted in some way.

The pertinent issue right now is about Requires Hate, an Internet personality who spent years harassing and bullying writers under different screen names, especially young writers of color. Her different personas were eventually connected to her pen name for fiction, Benjanun Sriduangkaew, and Laura Mixon won a 2015 Hugo Award for an expose. Sriduangkaew, in her persona as a Thai lesbian writer, was by then a rising star published by a number of high-profile magazines and a nominee for the 2014 John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. I’ve had commenters on my blog assume that being exposed as a racist, homophobic bully ended Sriduangkaew’s writing career. However, it didn’t. The high-profile magazines continued to promote her stories, while she apparently continued her harassment behaviors. This issue came up last week when Apex Magazine included Sriduangkaew on a roundtable event. After complaints, editor Jason Sizemore issued an apology.

Contrast this with the recent treatment of writer Sunil Patel. After various complaints from women about “manipulation, grooming behavior and objectification of women” (but not apparently direct sexual harassment), several publishers cut ties with Patel, dropping him out of scheduled publications. This happened even after he publicly apologized.

So, why the difference? Why does the community of editors (and presumably readers) ignore Sriduangkaew’s racist, homophobic transgressions and continued harassment of writers, while blacklisting Patel? Is there a double standard of some kind in work?

Review of “Runtime” by S.B. Divya

This is a novella published by Tor. It currently has 21 recommendations on the Nebula Recommended Reading List.

Marmeg is unlicensed, has cobbled together a set of exos and some illegal embed chips so she can work as a club security guard. The Minerva Sierra Challenge is coming up, and Marmeg dreams of winning the race so she can get real gear and trans surgery to become a beautiful asexual moot. Her Filipino mother works as a health aide and dreams of Marmeg going to school to become a nurse. Instead, Marmeg has spent the tuition money on the entry fee for the race. She spends the last of her wages to get to the site, lies about a support team and starts the race. She quickly runs into bad weather, dangerous competitors and survivalist nats who offer her an opportunity to cheat. What will she do?

As Greg Hullender has promised in recent comments, I’ve gotten a solid story right at the top of the novella recommendations. Pros: This is science fiction, as there wouldn’t be a story without the technology and the moots. It’s got pretty well defined characters, strong imagery, good human elements and a strong plot. The main theme is about honesty and values, but sub-themes about body alteration, survivalism, illegal status and the American caste system ask questions and add complexity. Cons: The prose is a little clunky. Plus, I’m suspicious of the HEA (happily ever after) ending and that Marmeg is rewarded so generously for her value choices. Given the setting, I’d expect the adults and the wealthy class would be as far into the caste system as anybody else. I’m also a little concerned that she gives up her own dreams so quickly.

Solid competitor. Four stars and a half.

Why are all these potential Nebula nominees so sappy?

There’s one more story with between five and ten recommendations on the Nebula Reading List. This is “The Continuing Saga of Tom Corbett: Space Cadet” by James Van Pelt, published in Analog. I gather from other reviews that this is an entertaining read, but it’s not available online so I’ll have to defer comments. That’s means I’m done with this set of reviews and ready to sum up some thoughts.

As I expected, the message fiction thinly disguised as SFF dropped off as I got deeper into the list, to be replaced with the usual highly sentimental stuff that all the pro magazines publish these days. There’s heavy emotional content in every one of these stories. Limited themes. Four of the eight are about abused children, and one more is about elderly dementia. That suggests the Nebula is a competition to see who can provide the biggest emotional whallop.

Other than that, science fiction in general is clearly in trouble here. The two stories that might be SF only use that as a framework to present the story—it’s not at all necessary to the plot. There are no serious questions or ideas offered up, no real predictions of where we might be going in the future. I have to conclude that science fiction, what Pamela Sargent calls “the literature of ideas” is dying. Instead, people want to cry about something.

So why is this happening? Some of it is social trends, of course. People may be just less interested in questions and ideas these days and more interested in emotional chills. But there’s something else, too, which is that this is how people are now taught to write. Last year I meant to comment on this, and I located this quote about teaching methods for children: “…an emphasis on emotions and feelings and ‘expressing’ them. This pressures children to produce work that is cathartic and trite—a very bad combination—and puts the teacher, to say nothing of the classmates, in the position of acting as an untrained, ersatz therapist…”

Unfortunately the link I have for this now seems to be bad, meaning it may have been taken down. More fortunately, there are other sources available. For example, Advanced Writing: Fiction and Film by Wells Earl Draughon offers advice on how to get started on a successful story. Draughon suggests that opening with a character is dull and boring unless some kind of suffering is also attached. This hook attracts the reader and produced sympathy for the character that will lead into the story. By definition, this emotional hook has to be trite or “stock” in order for the reader to quickly understand it. Everyone now expects this. So, in order to get your story published, you have to sift through all the trite trigger situations out there and try to find a creative way to incorporate some overused theme, i.e. child abuse, into your story. If you’re really good at it, then you can be a star writer.

But where does this leave SFF as a genre? As a potential reader, I end up with a choice of the same stock situations used repeatedly as themes because they’ve got great emotional hooks. As a writer, I’m limited in what I can present because I have to stick to these strict requirements to capture an editor’s attention. Add to this the apparent trend to progressive message fiction in the pro magazines that the top of the Nebula list indicates, and you’ve got content that’s restricted to emotional, hot-button issues with no new ideas, and heaven forbid that there be any actual science in there. It’s too cold and clinical for a story to actually ask questions about space travel or the future of the human race.

Is there any hope for change on this?

Review of “The Right Sort of Monsters” by Kelly Sandoval

This story was published in Strange Horizons. It currently has nine recommendations on the Nebula Reading List.

Anabeth has bought back a son with crocodile teeth from the Godswalk. Her sister Viette wants a child, too. She has suffered a succession of miscarriages, and her marriage is failing as a result. The Godswalk is a beautiful oasis that appeared suddenly in the marshland after bright stars appeared in the night sky. Since then, the villagers have grown barren. Anabeth advises Viette not to go to the blood trees and ask for a child, because there are costs. Regardless, Viette sets off. She meets a monster child in the Godswalk, and finds that the trees not only want blood, but produce a crop of children that are mostly monsters. She is pleased with all the children she gets in return for her blood.

This might be slipstream, as I’m not sure whether to take it as science fiction or fantasy. It’s another story that plays on emotions, a mother’s desire for children. There’s a little social commentary, maybe, about how mothers are willing to accept the flaws in their children, and about how all children are monsters. I’m not sure this is intended.

Viette is expecting to cause trouble by accepting all her crop of monster children, but I’m not sure this revolutionary theme is justified. Is she expecting the villagers will attack her for bringing all her children home? That the children will be bullied? Everyone who has these children knows the truth about their birth, after all. This is a fully developed story, including imagery, character development and world building. Slight horrific undercurrent. Very sentimental, but no political messages that I can identify.

Four stars.

Potential nominee.

Another Eligibility Announcement (aka shameless self promotion)

Nominate hard SF for the Nebula Award!

For any science fiction fans out there who are also SFWA members, I put my money where my mouth was last year. I have a hard science fiction short story on the Nebula Recommended Reading List. It’s “Only a Signal Shown” by Lela E. Buis (of course), published by the wonderful editor Sam Bellotto Jr. at Perihelion SF. Follow the link here to read the story and consider it for nomination within the next couple of weeks.

As happens with many of my stories, this one started out to be a serious look at spaceflight, alien contact and space colonization, but it went off the rails pretty quickly. I really appreciate the support the story has gotten so far, and I’d like to encourage everyone to read it, whether or not you’re a voting SFWA member. Follow the link and enjoy!

 

 

Review of “Laws of Night and Silk” by Seth Dickinson

This short story was published in Beneath Ceaseless Skies. It currently has six recommendations on the Nebula Reading List.

Kavian is a sorcerer of the Cteri, the people of the dams, making war against the Efficate that wants the water they have captured in their reservoirs. The Efficate have wizards, too, but they are weak in comparison to the weapons of the Cteri. These weapons are abused children called abnarch who have been kept in dark, solitary confinement for their whole lifetimes. Kavain is given the abnarch girl, Irasht, to use as a weapon in the war. Her own abnarch daughter, Heurian, is given to another sorcerer, Fereyd Japur. The two use the girls to destroy the Efficate armies. Heurian dies, but Irasht is saved when the Efficate break off the war. Kavian then revolts against the system, challenging the female warlord Absu to release the imprisoned children.

This is a fully developed story, very personal and written in the present tense. Because it’s about abused children meant to be used as vessels, it’s very emotionally charged for our society that protects children so heavily. Absu is very pragmatic, without any apparent feelings clouding her decisions. However, both Kavian and Japur are plagued with guilt and get attached to their charges. By the end of the story Kavian has taught Irasht to talk and think, and uses her to press the revolt.

This is a very competent work meant to be emotional manipulation. I’m impressed at Dickinson’s skill at putting it together–he hits on a lot of current memes, strong females and disadvantaged men, etc. However, I’m a little hard to manipulate emotionally, so this just comes across as offensive because of the child abuse. There are also some other issues: First with the Cteri, who seem to be hogging all the water in the region and then abusing the children as a means of defending their civilization—there’s no mention that maybe they should just share. Next, I doubt very much that sorcerers who have grown up within this system would wallow in guilt or even question how it works—that’s imposed from our culture. Last, children who have been kept in the dark this way will likely be insane and not loving or trainable in any way. It’s also likely they will be blind.

I’ll give it some extra credit for the quality of the writing. Excellent imagery, character development and world building.

Four stars.

I think this one is a potential nominee.

Review of “The Curse of Giants” by Jose Pablo Iriarte

This story was published by Daily Science Fiction. It currently has nine recommendations on the Nebula Reading List.

Danny was born a “giant,” which means he never fits in. He is clumsy and is called Dumbass Danny at school, where he sometimes responds to the bullying by acting out, knocking over chairs and tables and kicking things. When this happens, he gets disciplined at home, as well. He tries to report that he’s being bullied, but nothing happens. When the acting out happens again, his father beats him with a belt. Danny goes to the principal’s office and lifts his shirt, showing the marks.

This is another feel good story with strong anti-bullying and anti-child abuse messages. However, like most of the stories I’ve read on the Nebula Reading List this year, it’s not fully developed. Danny has made a strong statement at the end, but the story should have gone on to tell what happens in Danny’s life when Child Protective Services intervenes. Also, I don’t think this one is SFF. I can’t see any science fiction or fantasy content at all, except that Danny thinks he’s a “giant” instead of a disabled child.

Three stars.

Review of “A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers” by Alyssa Wong

I’m continuing down the Nebula Reading List. This story currently has 6 recommendations. It was published by Tor.com.

Hannah and Melanie are sisters with powers over reality. As children, they crackle with lightning, weave daisy chains in the sky. As they get older, Melanie warns Hannah against changing things. “It’s not that easy to get it right,” she says. Hannah breaks away from family and runs to the opposite coast, while Melanie stays home. Eventually Melanie ends the world, immolating herself. Arriving just too late, Hannah tries to fix things, going back further and further in time as we follow the iterations. During this process, Hannah reflects on her sister, their childhood and their mother, a visit Melanie made before she ended the world.

The story has a creative organization, as it repeats different permutations of Melanie dying and the world ending, each with added reflections on the sisters’ lives and relationship. It had a strong hook and started with a magical feel, but I was eventually disappointed when it didn’t fill out with more substance. It remained all just suggestion, the whole situation vague and undefined, snapshots in time continually shifting until it ends. I’ll give it a little extra for style.

Three stars and a half stars.

Investment in the Hugo Awards

Dang, my little traffic counter is tired—Vox Day linked to my last blog. I normally get an uptick when File770 links, but now we see who the real powerhouse is. Thanks to all who stopped by. It’s good to have discussion, although this one got a little off-track.

I read all the comments, here and also on these two respective sites. There are interesting responses. First, I gather that some people have a quite a personal investment in the Hugo Awards. The suggestion I made in the blog that DragonCon had looked at the Hugo controversy and would be in competition turned out more than one knight-errant to defend the Hugo Awards. Steve Davidson wrote a response supporting my position that the Dragon Awards are likely to change the flow of both money and promotion in ways that will undermine the Hugos.

The big question was about what I meant by “the Hugo process where works are winnowed through a narrow review and recommendation system and onto the ballot.” Although the Sad/Rabid Puppies have been severely trashed for their viewpoints, a faction of fandom has looked at their complaints critically and moved to analyze the awards process in response. If you’ve been following the blog, you’ll recall that I’ve featured statistical studies of the awards process for both the Hugos and the Nebulas during the last year. These show that prominent recommendation lists can be used to predict the nominees pretty accurately, and that the awards process is subject to bias. Other studies have shown the lists have limited sources, low diversity and a tendency for repeat appearances. The award winners for both the Hugos and the Nebulas are typically chosen by relatively small groups of individuals that lean to professional writers, editors and publishers. This is what I’m calling a “narrow” process.

I don’t know that you can ever eliminate these problems. People will always need a system to sift through what’s available. One of the main issues is how to work through the sheer number of SFF works published during the year, and another is the fierce competition to use the awards for their promotional value. I expect the Dragon Awards will have similar fairness issues. Plus, you can bet some people are already looking for ways to manipulate the results.