Things to be thankful for.

It's Thanksgiving. I can't think of anything profound to write about. Sue me. Also have a lovely weekend.

Silly bookish things I am thankful for: the giant box of books from ALAN that  showed up on my doorstep this morning.

(Also my backpack and my messy room.)

Also the fact that in that box are signed books from none other than Sarah Dessen, M.T. Anderson, and Rita Williams Garcia, which my co-panelists were kind enough to acquire for me.

Also the news that Maggie Stiefvater is finally writing the sequel to Ballad and Lament, both of which I reviewed last week. As a Stiefvater fangrrl, this obviously induced some squealing.

Also just being alive and able to read and enjoy books. Contrary to popular belief, book blogging is not easy. And the *free books* are not sufficient motivation. The books are. I love books.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

RIP, Anne McCaffrey: Why women belong in sci-fi

From GalleyCat: Anne McCaffrey has died.

I am dumbfounded. There are certain people in literature that seem as if they should live forever; Anne McCaffrey was one of them. Anne McCaffrey is one of the first reasons that comes to mind when I wonder why I love science fiction. I don't think it's exaggerating to say that Anne McCaffrey is the reason I am who I am today.

I was thirteen when I first read The Dragonriders of Pern series. I giggled at the first read-through of her dragon sex scenes and got sort of confused by her prose and the names that to me looked like a whole lot of apostrophes and not much else. I then proceeded to re-read it a half-dozen times in quick succession.


In her short story collection Get Off the Unicorn, which I devoured shortly after, I was astonished at the sheer variety within, from soft porn to soft, silly sci-fi, to psychological musings worthy of an Orson Scott Card novel (minus the ugly bigotry).

And in her novel The Rowan--actually a series of novellas and an extension of a story contained within Get Off the Unicorn--my love for Anne McCaffrey was sealed. I loved her ideas. I loved her writing. I loved her world. This was science fiction as I'd never read it. This was science fiction by...a woman.

Hear me out. Unlike certain Nobel Prize winners, I doubt you could tell blindly tell a woman's writing from a man's. We're not talking a difference in quality, or even in style. What we are talking about is a difference in perspective; what we are talking about, especially in sci-fi, is treating women as objects versus treating them like real people who can do anything. Anne McCaffrey fell into the latter category, and thus shaped a genre forever.

Even YA fans who have never touched adult sci-fi should recognize that, along with Ursula K. Le Guin and Diana Wynne Jones, it would be hard to point to an influence more singular in shaping what YA looks like today. Imagine a YA world without women speculative fiction writers--without Tamora Pierce, J.K. Rowling, Holly Black, Justine Larbalestier, Cassandra Clare, Libba Bray, Malinda Lo, Laini Taylor, Maggie Stiefvater, Dia Reeves, Suzanne Collins, Cindy Pon, and yes, even Stephenie Meyer; along with so many, many more--and you're imagining a sad world indeed. Anne McCaffrey was one of the trailblazers. If (when) I have a writing career in speculative fiction, I can probably thank Anne McCaffrey.

So I hope you'll forgive me for waxing eloquent, but the world is just a little bit sadder without Anne McCaffrey in it. Pick up one of her books to celebrate the life of this fantastically wonderful writer. Pick up one of her books to celebrate women in sci-fi and fantasy everywhere.

And write on.

In brief other news: In conjunction with the ALAN panel I participated in remotely today, I had the pleasure of being interviewed over at The Pirate Tree: Social Justice & Children's Literature. Check it out! And if you did attend our panel (session 2.02, 2:55-3:55, Teen Book Blogger Forge a New Reviewing Model), please let me know how it went. Wish I could have been there in person!