A Mini Rant

Nothing to do with fandom, I promise.

Over the past year or so I have noticed a trend in business communications for people to start or end emails with something like, “I hope this finds you well.”

Why do they do that? They don’t mean it! They don’t expect a reply. Indeed, they don’t want one. If they person that they are writing to isn’t well then the very last thing they want is to get a response detailing exactly what is wrong. And if they are well then any response will be just as vacuous as the original comment.

So please, people, next time you are tempted to add this piece of false bonhomie to a communication, consider what effect it might have if the recipient actually isn’t well; possibly is seriously unwell. You’ve just sent them a message about their health that they know is insincere and which they know you don’t want an honest reply to. How will that make them feel?

(And for those wondering, other than a continually sore shoulder, my health is perfectly OK, thank you, though I may be tempted to respond that I’m exhausted and profoundly depressed, which may be why I am cranky.)

Survey Design – Advice Needed

Is there anyone out there who is an expert in designing surveys? The sort of thing you get on sites like SurveyMonkey. I’ve completed quite a few of these as a subject, and they’ve mostly seemed pretty badly designed. Now that I have to create one myself, I’d like to do better, and that means I need to learn.

Busy

No, I am not at Eastercon.

Yes, I am busy. I have day job stuff that I have to get done so that I’ll be clear to go to Croatia at the end of the month.

Sorry for the silence.

Lovely People, Croatian Fans

Oh look, those nice folks from Zagreb have added me to the GoH list for their Eurocon. 🙂

I am, of course, deeply honoured, as always. That’s both for being a Guest of Honour and for being pictured in the presence of the Dread Lord, Fluff Cthulhu (whom I expect will be the God of Honour at the convention).

So, thank you, kind people of Croatia. I hope I will provide you with some interesting panels. I’m looking forward to seeing you and the beautiful city of Zagreb.

The Bad News: No World Fantasy For Me

The thing I have been looking forward to most this year is World Fantasy in Toronto. It was going to cost more than I can afford to get there (including most of my remaining United frequent flier points), but it is an event that Kevin can get to relatively cheaply and I haven’t seen him for almost a year now. Also my friends Liz Hand, John Clute and Gary K. Wolfe are all on the Guest of Honor list. But now it looks like I can’t risk trying to go.

Via this article in the Independent I have discovered that the USA is insisting that its “no fly” list be enforced for all flights to North America, not just ones to or transiting the USA. Having been denied entry to the US, I am almost certainly on that list. But even if I am not, I can’t afford to find out. That’s because the only way to know for certain whether I’m on the list is to buy a ticket and turn up at the airport hoping to travel. I have already wasted the cost of a trans-Atlantic air ticket once, and that was when my business was doing reasonably well. I can’t afford to do so again, especially now.

Kevin has already fulminated about this on his LiveJournal, with predictable immediate results in the comments. I’m sure that there are very many people in the USA who believe that any measure, no matter how draconian, is justified in order to protect their borders. What I don’t accept is that you can be convicted of being a danger to the US simply because one immigration officer deems you “suspicious”, and that there should be no way of clearing your name without recourse to the sort of money you need a lottery win to obtain.

Being Visible #GirlsLikeUs

Today is the International Trans Day of Visibility. It is held at the opposite end of the year from the Day of Remembrance, and the idea is to have a positive alternative to that dark shadow, a time in which the achievements of trans people can be celebrated. Unfortunately it is often hard to find much to celebrate.

I did my bit yesterday. Two of the stars of My Transsexual Summer, Sarah Savage and Karen Gale, were due to appear at a nightclub in Bristol. Prior to that, Bristol Pride organized a special event in conjunction with TransBristol that would allow local trans people to meet with Sarah and Karen in a more private setting. I went along to do my bit of being a (hopefully) positive role model.

It was a lovely evening, and I met lots of new people. Sadly I didn’t get to chat much to Sarah and Karen, but I’ve met them before and it was more important to let them have time with new people. What I did do was chat to some of the cis folks there. In particular I chatted quite a bit to Peter Main, a gay man who will shortly become the new Lord Mayor of Bristol. Peter is very keen to do something positive for the local LGBT community while he is Mayor, and I was delighted to see him determined to ensure that trans people are included in that.

In addition I got to meet a young lady who is one of the LGBT liaison officers for Avon & Somerset police. She and her girlfriend, who works on Bristol Pride, had gone along to make contact with trans people so that we knew we had someone we could come to if we were in trouble. The contrast to the way the world was when I transitioned is startling, and heartwarming.

Jenna TalackovaMoving on to other people, by far the most visible trans person around at the moment is Jenna Talackova. This Canadian girl was kicked out of the Miss Universe Canada contest because she is not a “natural born female”. Beauty pageants are a minefield for trans women. If we compete in them (or indeed take on any other career that relies on our good looks) then we get yelled at by the RadFems for reinforcing the gender binary. But if we don’t share Jenna’s good looks then we get laughed at for failing to live up to social standards of feminine appearance. Just like a woman has to be twice as good as a man to hold down an equivalent job, so a trans woman has to be twice as beautiful as a cis woman to be deemed pretty enough to count as female. The excellent Mercedes Allen does her usual fine job of tiptoeing through the minefield from both a trans and Canadian perspective here.

There are a couple of salient points to be raised about Jenna’s case. As usual, people are making stupid comments about how she is “really a man”, but in a very real sense she has never been one. Jenna is one of the lucky younger generation of trans people who are able to start hormone treatment very young. She may have spent part of her life living as a boy, but she never went through puberty as a male. Her adolescence was spent under the influence of estrogen, not testosterone. Then there is this question of being a “natural born woman”. Jenna, as far as I know, was born naturally. So was I. I also have a birth certificate attesting that I was born female. That is one of the benefits I acquired under the UK’s Gender Recognition Act. Canada, I guess, does not have a similar law. Perhaps it should.

The best comment on Jenna’s case, however, was this article in the Huffington Post by trans actress, Laverne Cox. She neatly sidesteps the issue of beauty pageants by asking whether trans people are allowed to dream. Jenna’s dream growing up might have been to be a beauty queen, and looking at her she surely deserves to succeed. But growing up trans doesn’t just debar you from such contests, it debars you from all sorts of careers and life choices that cis people take for granted. Recently Roz Kaveney has been writing about an idea called the “cotton ceiling”, which denotes the fact that most trans people can’t expect to find love and companionship outside of the trans community because cis people, even those who claim to be trans allies, react with revulsion to the idea that they might actually have sex with trans people, or even be thought by others to be considering such a thing.

I am well aware that I have been very lucky in this respect. I cannot begin to count the ways in which Kevin has made my life immeasurably better. And yet, compared to the dreams I had of my life as a teenager, or even my hopes for continuing my career after I transitioned, my life has been a dismal failure. Even winning a few Hugos, for which I am eternally grateful, hasn’t been much help. Science fiction fans are so despised in the UK that I’m no use to the trans community here as a public role model. I’m more like proof of what sad, pathetic people trans folk are. I’m still somewhat surprised that I have survived this long, and have no expectation of a long and pleasant old age, despite my health being excellent. As Laverne says, as a trans person you get so used to being at the bottom of the social pecking order that you are absurdly grateful for a life that most people would view with horror.

All I can say is that things are getting better, and are doing so at a rate much faster than I ever expected. It may be too late for me, but people like Jenna, Laverne and Janet Mock are doing great work across the Atlantic, and the likes of Paris Lees and CN Lester are having similar success over here. With any luck, by the time the latest generation of trans kids have grown up, there will be no limit to the dreams that they can achieve.

Of course they are not getting better for everyone at the same speed. A case that you may be unaware of is that of CeCe McDonald, who as a black trans woman is absolutely on the bottom rung as far as the US justice system is concerned. Or there’s the case of Alex Kaminski (name changed), a German girl whose estranged father went to court to have her committed to a psychiatric hospital rather than allow her to continue her gender treatment. The court ruled that Alex’s gender identity had been “induced by her mother”, who is supportive of her. Thankfully the hospital in question wants nothing to do with this. As Jane Fae explains, the doctors have refused to attempt forced “cure” and have threatened to sue newspapers over their reporting of the case.

There’s a constant battle to be waged here. While we definitely appear to be winning, there are always more horror stories waiting around the corner to ambush us. And with the current fashion for right wing politicians here and in the US to take Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale as a blueprint for a political utopia, there is always the worry that yesterday’s victories will be taken away from us. Which is why, despite the fact that it kills my blog stats, I am poking my head above the parapet once again. Thank you for listening.

(The hashtag, by the way, is a Twitter campaign started by Janet Mock to support Jenna and draw attention to other successful and talented trans women.)

A Day in Tiger Bay

In days past the area around the docks was one of the least salubrious parts of a city. It had homes for the impoverished dock workers and immigrants fresh off the boats; it had the inevitable red light district. Most coastal cities had a place like this. These days, however, what few docks there are take the form of highly mechanized container ports. The majority of cities have identified the old dockyard region as a valuable piece of seafront real estate that can be transformed into an urban entertainment complex.

My grandfather’s ship was based out of Cardiff, so he must have spent a fair amount of time at the docks. However, he died long before I was born, and when I was a kid Tiger Bay was known only as a bad part of town, and the home of the most famous Welshwoman of the time, the divine Shirley Bassey. That’s all changed. With devolution came money, renewed civic pride, and a need for impressive new national buildings. Thus Tiger Bay became Cardiff Bay, the location of the National Assembly building and so much more. I have never liked the re-naming, but I must say that the place does look rather nice these days.

I was there yesterday for the opening of a Welsh LGBT History exhibition staged by the fine folks from the LGBT Excellence Centre. I won’t say much about the exhibition itself, because my colleagues and I at Out Stories Bristol are planning a similar event for next year and they’ve asked me not to give my views on the Cardiff exhibition until they have had a chance to look at it. I can, however, comment on the event itself, and the location.

The exhibition is in the Pierhead Building, a delightfully crazy piece of Victorian extravagance that is now a small museum of Welsh identity. The photos below show details of the building and some of the non-LGBT elements on display. If you are interested in learning more about the ancient legal code of Wales, the BBC has an interesting post here.

Special guests for the day were Sarah, Fox, Karen and Donna from the My Transsexual Summer TV series. I’m delighted to report that they are all just as nice in person as they seemed on screen. They have also grown into magnificent ambassadors for the trans community and I’m proud to have met them. They gave an excellent interview and Q&A session.

The other main event for the day was a performance of Not About Heroes, a two-person play by Stephen McDonald detailing the relationship between the WWI poets, Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. It was a very powerful piece, and got me thinking a lot about the very different war I have been writing about. There may be a separate blog post about this at some point if I think I can do it justice.

I also spent a bit for time wandering around the Bay taking photos. It is a very science fictional location. The BBC Wales studios, where Doctor Who is filmed, are not far away, and parts of Mermaid Quay have been used for sets in Torchwood. Indeed, one of the main sites of interest at the Quay is the Torchwood HQ and associated shrine to Ianto Jones. That’s quite a memorial for a fictional character. The location also memorializes Cardiff’s most well-known contributor to the arts of speculative fiction, Roald Dahl.

One of the things that impressed me most about the day was the multicultural nature of the event, and of the city. LGBTEC is a thoroughly diverse organization. The event was chaired by Federico Podeschi, who sounds quite Welsh despite his name. I met a PoC trans woman who was born in the Sudan. There were also people with clear connections to the Spanish-speaking world. Dahl, of course, was the child of Norwegian immigrants. The church that the Norwegians built for themselves can still be seen across the Bay. And on Mermaid Quay there is a statue of a young couple enjoying the view. The young man looks like he might be a dock worker with a lengthy local ancestry. His partner looks like her family came to Cardiff via the Caribbean or Africa. But the title of the sculpture is “People Like Us”. It is a very conscious statement of the multicultural nature of modern Welsh society.

Here are the photos. There are three pages of them, so single-click on the picture and then keep clicking “next”.

[shashin type=”album” id=”52″ size=”medium”]

Microcon Briefly

I should have blogged about Microcon last week, but as it turned out I could only stay there for a couple of panels. One of those was Philip Reeve, who was the person I really wanted to see. He has a long report on event here. It includes a bit of personal history from me, and a fine photos of a very nice pub.

Farewell, Davy

Yeah, this is one of those “is she really that old?” posts.

Davy Jones died today. I was a few years short of being a teenager when The Monkees were huge stars. I don’t think that Davy was my first crush. That honor probably belongs to Adam Faith. But I do remember the Monkees TV show with a great deal of fondness. And for a manufactured band they were surprisingly good (at least in part because of the top quality song writers they worked with).

Here’s Davy and the boys being their usual goofy selves.

Yes kids, people really did dress like that in the Sixties.

I Get Interviewed

So there I was sat back enjoying a whisky on New Year’s Eve when a link popped up on Twitter to an interview I had done that had just come online. Of course it was morning on January 1st in Australia by that time, which is why Rowena Cory Daniels was up and working. I’ve held off talking about this until now as I figured you folks would all have hangovers that needed recovering from before reading about me.

The interview, should you be interested, is here. Many thanks to Rowena for asking me to do it.

The Turning of the Page

Well, it is December 31st yet again. I have been spending part of today watching some of the appendices from Return of the King. Some of it is quite emotional, with Peter Jackson and his crew saying goodbye to each other after four years of filming. It seemed an appropriate sort of thing to be doing at the year’s end.

I don’t think I’ll miss 2011. It has been a fairly disastrous year financially and business-wise. That may seem a very odd thing to say in a year in which you won another Hugo, but I’m also fairly certain now that, barring miracles like a lottery win, I’ll never get back to California. I’m not even sure if I will ever see Kevin again, except via Skype.

The past, however, is past. As Neil wrote earlier today (he’s in Melbourne, so he’s been in 2012 for some time now), a new year is an opportunity to make new and different mistakes. Next year I shall try to fail better, at new and hopefully exciting things. You never know what the future might hold.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Hobbits and Memories

My Solstice present from Kevin this year was a set of the Extended Edition versions of the Lord of the Rings films. I watched the whole thing through over three days. That’s 12 hours of movie, which is quite enough for me, thank you. There is much in those films that is ridiculous, and more in the story that is disturbing, but there’s no doubting the visual and emotional impact of the films. They also have a lot of good memories for me. Probably the sharpest is meeting Sean Astin when he came to ConJosé to collect the Hugo for Fellowship. But of course I saw all of the films with Kevin. They were pretty much the only things we went to the movies for. I suspect that I am emotionally invested in those films. I’ll probably watch them next year too.

Thank You, Internets #xmasathome

I’m dropping in here as I have an un-anticipated extension to the cooking plans (why do cooking times on frozen roasts always get it so badly wrong?) and a bit of time to kill. Not that I have great plans, of course. As usual I’m spending Christmas by myself. And in years gone by that could be quite a lonely thing. Today, however, I have been chatting merrily with friends in Australia, India, Estonia, Finland, the UK, Barbados and the USA (and probably a few other countries I have forgotten). There is, I gather, even a Twitter hashtag for people who are spending Christmas alone so that they can meet up online and chat (I put it in the heading here so it will get onto Twitter). Isn’t technology wonderful. 🙂

Happy Solstice!

The Winter Solstice happens at around 5:30 UTC tomorrow. That will still be today for those of you on the US West Coast, and I’ll be asleep when it happens, so I should get the festive post up now.

For the holiday I’m planning to head into Bath in search of cheese and other fine foodstuffs. After that it is back home and cook. There may also be a bottle of Saint-Emilion sat waiting for me. Bloggage will be limited.

Porky Pies

I got a call from the complaints department at the bank today about the credit card issue I blogged about yesterday. Here’s what I was told.

1. They made the point about 99p transactions being suspect (thanks Matthew, that was a good one).

2. They said that when the transaction first came in it was from another vendor, not Amazon, though it shows up on my statement as Amazon. Apparently this was Internet pixies at work or something.

3. They said that, despite what I had been assured by two other bank staff, they never, ever decline cards purely at random.

4. They had this bridge that they wanted to sell me.

I lied about point 4.

But now I trust them even less than I did yesterday.

Security Pantomime

We see a lot of Security Theater these days – supposed security procedures that are there primarily to convince the public that they are more secure, but which actually do little beyond cause massive inconvenience. Sometimes, however, the whole thing get so silly that the word “theater” would dignify it.

On Saturday night (UK time) Neil Gaiman tweeted to remind UK fans that The Graveyard Book was on sale for 99p at Amazon’s Kindle store. As my paper copy of the book is in California I figured I should pick up a copy. Much to my surprise, my credit card was declined; for a 99p transaction with a vendor that I buy from fairly often.

While I was logging into my Amazon account to try to sort things out I got a phone call purporting to be from my bank. As is depressingly common they insisted on asking me a bunch of personal questions of the type they warn you never to give out to strangers over the phone, while refusing to identify themselves in any way. I put the phone down, looked up the customer service number, and called them back (at considerable expense, of course, because their customer “service” line uses a premium rate phone number).

So yes, my credit card had been declined. No, there was no problem with it. I hadn’t missed a payment, nor had there been any suspicious transactions on it. The card had been declined because the bank uses a system that randomly declines card transactions as a spot check for fraud. It was all the fault of the computers. There was nothing that mere humans could do about it.

Anyway, with my card unblocked and book purchased, I waited for Monday, and this morning I went into my local branch to check that I had heard correctly. Apparently I did. And what’s more this is not just confined to credit cards, or online purchases. Apparently any of my cards can be declined at any time, entirely at random. This is for my safety and security.

I don’t suppose there’s a lot of point in getting annoyed with individual banks here. I’m sure that all UK banks do a similar sort of thing. I remember reading the small print on an RBS card agreement once and noticing that it said that if I told anyone any information about the card, including reporting a lost card to the police, that would make me liable for any fraudulent transactions on it. They do these things, in part because they can, and in part because we have become so obsessed with price comparison that banks, utilities and similar organizations are engaged in constant service-cutting programs so that they can offer “better value” than their competitors. It does occur to me, however, as we move faster towards a Phil Dick world in which our wealth and identity can be taken from us by a careless or unscrupulous computer system, that black economies based on barter and the like will grow so that people can continue economic behavior without being at the mercy of banks.

The icing on the cake came when I was just leaving. The lady in the bank that I had been speaking to asked me to make sure I forwarded any phishing scam emails that I received to the special address the bank has for such things, so that they would know to suspend my access to online banking. I’m not entirely sure she intended to say that, but it would not surprise me at all to find that the bank has a policy of assuming that anyone who receives a phishing scam will inevitably fall victim to it. You might want to remember this next time you feel public spirited about reporting suspicious spam. I know I will.

November Plans

OK folks, here’s where we are with regard to November.

Firstly, while I might not have much urgent work on the books, the quantity of stuff that has been put on the back burner over the past few months is huge, and I need to clear it. Much of that is book reviews.

Secondly, it is probably more important that I should be encouraging you to read other people’s good fiction than that I should add to the large amount of bad fiction in the world. I know that for a lot of people that makes me just another opinionated jerk, and not a real “writer”, but it is what I enjoy doing.

And thirdly, while I still don’t have a complete outline, it has become obvious over the weekend that what I thought was a fairly lightweight urban fantasy is actually a complex, deeply political novel for which I’ll need to do a lot of research on ethnic communities in London. That shouldn’t have surprised me, but it does mean that I should not try to write the whole thing in the coming month.

So I am planning to write 50,000 words in November, but most of that will be promised magazine articles, and book reviews. It may also involve a few novel chapters and/or short fiction, but those are secondary priority.

As I understand it, it would be wrong for me to sign up for NaNoWriMo under those circumstances, so that will have to wait for next year, when I shall try to be better prepared.

Apologies

I was hoping to blog about the various LGBT publishing-related controversies today, but instead I am having a bad day with the shoulder. Urgent emails have to take priority. Sorry.

Colin Harvey’s Funeral

Today I attended Colin Harvey’s funeral in Bath. It was a lovely location out on the edge of town with magnificent views out over the Somerset countryside. I was very impressed by the whole thing. Here’s a brief review.

The first thing I noticed was that the place was packed. There was barely room for all of us to sit down. There were very few SF people there. Besides myself we had Gareth Powell and his wife, Jo Hall and her partner, Roz Clarke, Tony Keen who had come up from Kent for the day, and Rob Rowntree who, I think, had come down from Nottingham. In addition there were a few people from the creative writing course that Colin was taking at Bath University. There were also people from the Bristol hospital where he worked, old colleagues from Uniliver, and quite likely a lot of other people as well; besides family, of course.

Although the crematorium had clearly been built with religious ceremonies in mind, Colin’s, by family request, was entirely secular, and the staff did a wonderful job of carrying that out. We arrived to the sound of Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold”, which summed up Colin perfectly. During the ceremony they played “Chasing cars” by Snow Patrol, and we left to the sound of Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl” (which Kate told me Colin used to play when writing). The funeral director read some of the tributes to Colin that had been posted to Facebook, and also two poems, the details of which I’m afraid I have forgotten. The second poem encouraged us all not to cry, and consider the departed lost forever, but instead to smile and remember all of the good times we’d had together. Again that was perfect for Colin.

After the funeral, donations were taken for the Above & Beyond medical charity, which Colin worked for. If you’d like to remember him in some way, please consider making your own donation.

And then, exactly as Colin would have wanted, we all went to the pub.