The Human Wave, Sad Puppies, and SFF Monoculture, Part 1
A spectre is haunting fandom: the specter of monoculture.
I haven't done much in SF for almost two years, having spent a great deal of time learning some new technology and then writing about it. (That saga is painful and may end badly, as I'll explain when it does end, one way or another.) So I come back and begin preparing several things for publication on Amazon, including Firejammer, The Cunning Blood, Drumlin Circus, and a number of my longer stories. As I flip around the screamosphere seeing what's up after my two-year absence, wow: A rumble has begat a manifesto that begat an attempt to break out of the worst rut the SFF world has ever seen. "Monoculture" is the polite word for a rut so deep that it threatens the viability of an industry. That's what we're up against in SFF, and that's what I'm going to be discussing for a few entries here on Contra.
One warning: This issue makes people of certain psychologies slobberingly, incoherently, hatefully, murderously, roll-eyes-back-in-the-head angry. If that's you, well, about face, forward march. You are not allowed to be angry here, and if anger is your hobby, you won't find much to enjoy.
To begin: I read a lot of SFF. I've been reading it for over fifty years. Recently, instead of new fiction, I find myself increasingly reaching back to the 90s and prior for things I've read not just once or several, but often many times. I do try new fiction, but I rarely finish it. These are the primary reasons:
- It's depressing. Depressed characters with depressing 10,000-word backstories wander around depressing worlds through depressing situations where nothing is learned, no one is redeemed, and in truth nothing of consequence ever actually happens. (Sarah Hoyt calls these "grey goo stories.")
- It's preachy. Good polemic is hard, and should be subversive, not in-your-face. Clever writers can preach via story without being too obvious about it, but sermons in story costumes are dull, off-putting, and in many cases excuses for scapegoating and tribal hatred.
- It's slow, and talky. I don't necessarily demand fistfights and explosions on every other page. Still, shut up, put those coffee cups down and do something!
- It lacks ideas. I may be peculiar in this, but to me a story without interesting ideas lacks an SFF soul.
- Humor is nowhere in sight. I like funny SFF. As best I can tell, it's now extinct.
- From a height, it just isn't fun. Fun is what we do this for. Fun is subjective, and hard to define, but damn, I know it when I read it.
When I begin reading a new work of SFF, I start a mental timer. If at some point the fun doesn't start (and that point depends on my current mood and available time) I put the book down and go on to something else. Such books rarely get second chances. I gave Bowl of Heaven a second chance because it's an idea story by authors with good records, but the fun took a long time to start and really didn't go anywhere coherent. I haven't given it away yet, so a third chance is possible, but as it's the first volume in a saga, I may wait until the second volume actually appears.
I've been slowly drifting away from SFF for a number of years. Discussions with people I know suggest that I'm not alone.We're all still reading as voraciously as ever, but the reading has gone over to other things, especially nonfiction. Nonfiction matters: I've noticed that I've become a better fiction writer since I've become an insatiable nonfiction reader. Fiction, especially SFF, is not 100% imagination. On the other hand, when you set aside a recent Hugo-award winning novel for being tedious and generally lame, well, that says something.
Note well (especially you hotheads) what I'm saying and not saying here: I'm saying that the SFF universe is losing readers because of a steadily narrowing focus on dark, dull, misanthropic, idea-free titles. I am pointedly not saying that such titles should not be published, nor read. What I want is a broad selection. What I am against is monoculture.
Having given it a great deal of thought, I see the monoculture issue in four parts:
- Political monoculture. I hate politics and loathe talking about it, so I'll let others handle this one. It's just an extension of the monkeyshit tribal wars that seem to dominate our culture right now.
- Social monoculture. This is tricky, and has to do with the fact that the SFF fan community is aging and grouchy, and young people are for the most part going elsewhere. For example, how many people go to Worldcon? How many to Dragoncon? From what I can see, the dragons have it twenty to one.
- Industry monoculture. SFF publishing has become a reflection of NYC publishing as smaller presses are engulfed and devoured by conglomerates or simply go under. It's the same people and the same companies working in more or less the same place, with fewer and fewer gatekeepers who are mostly all alike. There's a time limit on this one, as anybody who's paying attention can tell. (Much more on this in future entries.)
- Technique monoculture. Critics and gatekeepers lean strongly toward literary techniques, and against techniques that emerged from the pulps, and the pulp descendents that many of us grew up on: adventure, action, and upbeat themes that express the triumph of the human spirit. Yes, characters are critically important. Characters are not the whole show.
Whew. That should be enough to get me in serious trouble for the rest of my next three lives. Heh. See if I care, as I go more deeply into these points in future entries.