Tag: LGBT

Fantasy from A to Z: S is for Sanderson

Brandon Sanderson is, without a doubt, the most popular fantasy writer currently living and writing today. He is also one of the classiest and most gracious authors you will ever meet, in any genre. I’ve also got a personal connection to him, from taking his writing class at BYU.

Brandon decided to become a writer when he was very young. The way he explains it, the bug really bit him when he read Dragonsbane by Barbara Hambly. Depression runs in his family, and growing up, he always felt emotionally monotone and distant—until he read that book. From then on, he became obsessed with fantasy, both with reading and with writing it.

The way I heard Brandon explain it, that emotional monotone has been both a personal struggle and a great asset. It’s part of the reason he’s able to write so much, since where other writers tend to have huge emotional swings that affect their ability to write, Brandon is able to just sit down and do the work, day after day after day. It’s also part of what gives him an even keel that makes him such a gracious and generous person. Where other writers tend to get worked up on social media or join outrage mobs, Brandon avoids all of that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard of him becoming outraged about anything.

Brandon was one of the last major authors to break into book publishing before the indie revolution began turning everything upside down. He broke in by researching agents and editors, attending all the important conferences, and networking with everyone who’s anyone in the genre. He also wrote a lot of really good books—as well as a lot of crappy ones. I believe that Elantris, his debut novel, was actually the sixth novel he wrote, and Mistborn: The Final Empire was something like the 13th. He landed his agent, Joshua Bilmes, from attending World Fantasy, and his agent eventually got him his publisher, Moshe, at Tor.

Elantris and Mistborn were good, but not immediate bestsellers. In fact, Brandon was on track to be an average mid-list fantasy author with a relatively unremarkable career, until Robert Jordan died, leaving the Wheel of Time unfinished. By that point, a lot of readers felt frustrated with the series and used his death as an opportunity to write scathing screeds about how it had gone off of the rails and grown far too bloated and large. But Brandon was much more classy and gracious than that, and wrote a tribute to the man instead, praising his work and the impact it had had on his life. When Robert Jordan’s widow read Brandon’s post, she decided that he was the one who should finish the Wheel of Time.

Personally, I’m not a huge Wheel of Time fan. I read the first three books and enjoyed them, but I got lost midway through the fourth book. My wife read them all and feels like the series is overrated, and I generally trust her judgment. But I can appreciate how a lot of people really love the series—and really, there is a lot to love. Just because it isn’t to my personal taste doesn’t mean that it isn’t good. 

My friends who are Wheel of Time fans tell me that Brandon not only finished the series—he rescued it. Apparently, the last three books rejuvenated the series, wrapping things up in an incredibly satisfying way. Of course, Brandon would defer and say that it wasn’t his genius that turned the series around, but Robert Jordan’s original vision and the detailed notes and outlines that Brandon followed. But there’s no denying that Brandon really stuck the landing.

It was around this point in the story that I met Brandon. I was a student at BYU at the time, and I had an opportunity to take his writing class. From the time when I was eight, I had wanted to be a writer, but I didn’t think I would ever turn it into a career. Brandon’s writing class changed all that, and helped me to see that I could pursue writing as a career. He also taught me the nuts and bolts of writing fiction, vastly improving my writing skills. I had started several novels in high school, but never finished anything until I took his class. And while my first finished novel was a disaster that I promptly locked in the trunk, my second novel attempt (which I started writing in Brandon’s class) ultimately became my debut, Genesis Earth.

(As a side note, my wife was also in that ‘08 class with Brandon Sanderson, though we didn’t actually meet each other until almost a decade later when we matched on Mutual. She also started a writing group with her college roommate, who won the Writers of the Future and married into Brandon Sanderson’s writing group. Our writing group has also got one of Brandon’s college roommates.)

Brandon’s success with Wheel of Time was what catapulted Brandon from a midlist author to a bestselling phenomenon. But even then, if he wrote at the same slow pace as most other fantasy authors, he would have forever been known as “the guy who finished Wheel of Time.” Instead, he became famous for writing and publishing massive +300k word doorstopper tomes at an unprecedented rate, leading fans to joke about his writing super powers. Then the pandemic happened, and he wrote four “secret” novels with all of the extra time he had from not traveling anywhere. The fans went crazy, and his kickstarter blew everything out of the water.

I haven’t read all of Brandon’s books. I really loved the Mistborn era I books, and the first Stormlight Archive book was good, but my favorite is Emperor’s Soul, because I think that Brandon is at his best when he writes shorter novels rather than the massive +300k word doorstopper tomes. In my experience, Brandon is a 3-star author who writes 5-star endings. His writing tends to meander, especially in the early middle, but around the 3/4ths mark there’s usually a twist that brings things together, and the conflict escalates consistently until it builds into a really satisfying ending.

Brandon is also known for his hard magic systems, which have become a signature trait of his books. Some readers feel that clearly explaining the rules of magic defeats the sense of wonder that a fantasy novel should have, but that’s not been my experience with his books. When I read a Brandon Sanderson novel, I feel almost like I’m reading a video game. Knowing the ins and outs of the magic helps me to see the possibilities for the characters to use it, and Brandon is usually really good at adding an unexpected twist, exploiting the rules of magic in a surprising yet inevitable way. This creates its own sense of wonder that really adds to his books.

Brandon also is known for how all of his books are tied together into the same transdimensional “cosmere” multiverse, though I actually think this is the least remarkable thing that makes his books so distinctive. For one thing, he’s not the first one to do it—David Gemmell also discretely linked all of his books, which blew my mind when I discovered that particular easter egg. For another thing, Brandon has turned his cosmere from a delightfully hidden easter egg and nod to the fans to the grand key that you must possess in order to understand and appreciate his later books. As a result, the cosmere is becoming an obstacle to new readers, even as his most ardent fans all swoon over the cosmere connections.

I think Brandon’s ultimate goal is to turn his books into a massive cinematic universe, kind of like the MCU. From what I understand, he was really close to signing a Hollywood deal, but it fell through at the last minute, leaving him back at square one (I don’t know all the details, though Jon Del Arroz did some interesting reporting on that). This is also probably why his books have become more woke in recent years. 

I’ve already written at length about that subject, so I won’t belabor the point here. But I really do feel that this represents a betrayal of his more conservative fans, many of whom turned to Brandon precisely because his books tend to be free of all of the gratuitous language and sexual content of most modern fantasy. Also, one of Brandon’s really great strengths during the gamergate and puppygate fannish controversies of the 2010s was his strict neutrality. While the culture wars were raging all around them, he continued to be his classy and gracious self, refraining from picking sides or wading into the mudfest. With the LGBTQ romantic subplot in Wind and Truth, that appears to have changed.

I hope he turns away from all of that. What the world really needs right now are books that transcend the whole woke vs. anti-woke divide, bringing us together and healing the artificial (and in many cases subversive) divisions that pit us against each other. Maybe Brandon will surprise me, and accomplish exactly that, just from the left side of the aisle. But as of Wind and Truth, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve reached peak Sanderson. Only time will tell.

Regardless, I will always be grateful to Brandon Sanderson for the things he taught me, and for all of his graciousness and generosity that he showed in his writing class. Without that experience, I probably would have pursued a different career, and not written nearly so many books. I also probably would not have married my wife, since one of the big things that drew her to me was my love and dedication to my writing craft. 

Yes, Brandon Sanderson has gone woke

By his own admission, in his latest blog post: On Renarin and Rlain. He says the post is addressed “toward my more conservative readership.” However, he also calls himself “an ally to LGBT+ people” and boasts about writing the “first openly gay men [in] the Wheel of Time.” When discussing Christianity and his own Latter-day Saint faith, he makes repeated appeals to “empathy” and “respect,” without addressing the Bible’s clear condemnation of sexual sin. He also does not mention the Family Proclamation, which clearly lays out his own church’s position on homosexuality, transgenderism, and gay marriage.

In other words, Brandon basically told his conservative readers “I hear you, but you’re wrong.” He implies that any conservative Christian who has concerns with the gay romance in Wind and Truth is lacking in empathy and respect. He also implies that by voicing their concerns, they are dividing the world into “us” vs. “them” and betraying a key tenet of their own Christian faith.

If Brandon genuinely wanted to allay the concerns of his conservative readers, he would have acknowledged the Family Proclamation and Biblical standards of sexual morality. He would have discussed the gay romance of his latest book in the context of such standards. Then, he would have presented an argument similar to Andrew Klavan’s: that conservative art is not the same as conservative life. Good art must provide an honest and truthful representation of life. It should not glorify or promote those aspects of life that are evil. Brandon starts to make the first half of that argument, in discussing how Tracy Hickman portrayed gay characters in his books, but he fails to follow it up. He doesn’t explain how making a gay romance essential to the plot of Wind and Truth serves the good, the true, and the beautiful.

Brandon doesn’t seem to trust his conservative Christian readers to be able to separate the sin from the sinner. He also refuses to acknowledge the lived experience of his gay and lesbian readers who have chosen to live morally pure and faithful Christian lives. Like Brandon, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Some of the most inspiring members of the church for me are those who struggle with same-gender attraction but still live true to their testimonies. I imagine it must feel pretty lonely at times like this, when their brother in Christ has chosen to side with those who preach the false gospel of pride, equity, and self-worship, instead of the gospel of the One who declared “Father, Thy will be done, and the glory be Thine forever.”

Has Brandon denied his faith? I’m not Brandon’s bishop, nor am I his eternal judge. It’s important to remember that the church is not a place for perfect people. I do think there ought to be a place in the church for self-described LGBT+ allies, so long as they sustain the leaders—and the doctrine—of the church. But if he hasn’t crossed the line, he’s certainly standing a lot closer to it than I ever would.

My personal testimony is that the Family Proclamation is inspired of God, and that the men who wrote and signed their names to it are prophets, seers, and revelators. It teaches true principles about the family and sexual morality. We are all children of God, gays and lesbians included, and that makes us all brothers and sisters regardless of how we choose to live. At the same time, Christ didn’t suffer and die for us so that we could continue in our sins. If the Family Proclamation is true, affirming homosexuality is not an act of love, no matter how empathetic it may be. Christ had empathy for the woman caught in adultery, but because He loved her, He also commanded her to “go, and sin no more.”

On a personal level, I feel frustrated and disappointed by Brandon’s recent turn. I count Brandon as an early mentor—in fact, it was Brandon’s class that inspired me to pursue writing as a career. I haven’t spoken with Brandon in years, but I do still count him as a friend. If I could sit down with him I would ask him about the people he’s surrounded himself with. They seem to be leading him in a bad direction, since he seems to have grown out of touch.

Has he betrayed his conservative readers? Yes, I think he has, and that he’s making a big mistake by doing so. One of the things that set him apart until now was the fact that his books are very clean. His fans may argue that Renarin and Rlain’s romance is also clean, but as a conservative reader, it feels more like a camel’s nose peeking under the tent. In a world of drag queen story hour, pornographic gay pride parades, and genital mutilation of children, is it even possible to have a clean gay romance? I think not. To paraphrase Brandon, as much as we may long for the days where there was no slippery slope, maybe that world never existed. Maybe there will always be an instinct to divide the world into the “clean” and the “queer.”

So let me just say this: whatever the stories that Brandon wants to tell, I can no longer trust that they’ll be the kind I’ll want to read. He could still turn around, of course, and I genuinely hope that he does. But reading between the lines, it seems that this turn toward the woke is not a new direction from him. It seems to be something that he’s contemplated for some time. I’ll still read the rest of his secret projects and keep my signed copies of the original Mistborn trilogy. But I’m going to DNF the Stormlight Archive, and probably won’t buy his future books.

Brandon ends his blog post by saying that one of his primary goals in life is to be more empathetic. This is what motivates him to write: because it’s how he explores the world. I, too, feel compelled to explore the world through my stories, but my primary goal is to pursue the truth. Those two goals aren’t always in conflict, but when they are, I think the pursuit of truth should be higher. The pursuit of truth ultimately leads us to love one another more fully and more meaningfully than the pursuit of empathy does. It saddens me that Brandon disagrees.

Has Brandon Sanderson gone woke?

Update (11 Jan 2025): Brandon has addressed this question with his blog post On Renarin and Rlain, and I have responded with Yes, Brandon Sanderson has gone woke.

This is a genuine question: I don’t have any new information or tea to spill. But there have been some rumblings recently that make me wonder if Brandon has gone over to the woke side—or indeed, if he was always quietly there to begin with.

Most of these rumblings have come from the recent videos that Jon Del Arroz has put out on the subject. Before you post your angry comments, know that I am already aware that JDA is an extremely polarizing figure (which doesn’t necessarily speak ill of him—or good, for that matter). Personally, I don’t have a strong opinion about JDA either way: I don’t know him personally, so I can’t speak to his character, and while he does seem to have the right enemies, that only says so much. A lot of his content does seem to be clickbaity and hyper-partisan, and the way he wears his Christianity on his sleeve can make me uneasy at times (though I do appreciate that he’s open about his beliefs).

With all of that said, JDA has broken some very interesting and important stories in the recent past, such as the very serious sexual abuse allegations against Neil Gaiman—and more importantly, the way the publishing industry and legacy media have been working to downplay that story and even cover it up. So when he started covering the controversy surrounding Brandon Sanderson’s recent release of Wind and Truth, the fifth book in the Stormlight Archive, and how some of his fans are reacting to what they perceive as a woke sell-out, I perked up.

But the thing that prompted me to write this blog post is what Brad Torgerson posted, and which JDA quotes in the above video. I’ve chatted with Brad on several occasions, and I know and like him a lot. He’s also a bit of a polarizing figure in the fandom, mostly for spearheading the Sad Puppies movement in 2015, but he’s always struck me as a good guy and completely undeserving of most of the crap that he’s taken, including some local convention drama. Brad and I are both Utah writers, and we both run in the same circles, though we only cross paths maybe a couple of times a year.

As for Brandon, it’s been a few years since the last time I spoke with him, but I did take his writing class at BYU, and one of the members of his writing group is also a member of our writing group. In fact, I’m very curious to talk with her the next time we meet, because a couple of months ago she did cryptically mention that there were a couple of things in the early draft of Wind and Truth that she read that she really, really did not like, and advised Brandon to cut. Are those the same things that are behind the controversy now. Perhaps—though she did make it seem like Brandon’s agent and publisher were also advising him to cut them, so whatever it was, I don’t think he added it because they pressured him to, and he “sold out,” as JDA characterizes.

Also, I think JDA takes it a little too far when he says that Brandon is denying his faith. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I’ve served in a bishopric before, and participated in church disciplinary councils where excommunication and disfellowshipment were on the line. From what I can tell, nothing that Brandon has said or done would warrant a formal church council—not even donating to the Utah Pride Center, though if I were his bishop, I would want to talk with him about that. The church is a place for sinners and doubters, which we all are in some degree. If Brandon were to explicitly denounce the Family Proclamation, that might (or might not) warrant a disciplinary council, but I don’t think it’s fair or accurate to say that Brandon has denied his LDS faith.

With that said, if Brandon is putting gay romances and transgender characters in his books, that’s awfully hard to square with the Family Proclamation, which explicitly states that “marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God” and “gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.” Personally, I sustain the Family Proclamation wholeheartedly and without reservation, and it saddens me to see other members of my faith take issue with it. I firmly believe that these are the words of living prophets, with the same scriptural authority as the Bible and the Book of Mormon, and I look forward to the day when the Family Proclamation is officially canonized in the Doctrine and Covenants, which I expect it will be.

You have to leave some room for nuance, though. My book Queen of the Falconstar, which is currently available as a free ebook (no, I didn’t plan it that way), has a LGBT main character, whose bisexuality is an important part of the plot. The book does not “celebrate” her bisexuality, or promote it as a morally justified lifestyle choice—in fact, it’s a major driver in her downfall in the second book, which I’m currently writing. When I was writing the first book, there were many times when I wondered if I should scrap this part of her character, but when I prayed about it, I got the distinct impression that I should keep it in. In fact, there were many times when I wondered if I should trunk the whole book, and the only reason I ultimately wrote and published it was because I felt prompted by the Spirit that God wanted me to write this book.

Of course, stating it in these terms means I’ve basically alienated everyone from either side of this issue. But it’s true. The book is neither woke nor anti-woke: it has a bisexual main character whose sexuality is a liability and an obstacle. Guaranteed to offend both sides. Also, I firmly believe that this was a book God wanted me to write—and for that reason, I’ve been careful not to write it in such a way that it disparages or denies the Family Proclamation, though the characters themselves would probably not agree with it. Which is also guaranteed to offend basically everyone.

Enough about Queen of the Falconstar. I only bring it up to make the point that you have to leave room for nuance, if you want to write truthfully. But if Brandon’s conservative fans feel he has betrayed them, that feeling is totally legitimate—and frankly, the part of this story that interests me the most. Is that what’s going on here? I’ve only ready partway through book 2 of the Stormlight Archive, so I’m not up to date on the series. A cursory glance at the Goodreads reviews shows that there’s some interesting discussion about this, but I’m not connected enough with the Sanderson fandom to really say what that means.

However, I did find this article on Brandon’s blog, dated back to 2023, which makes me think that he’s always been symathetic to some, if not all LGBTQ causes. Then again, he does talk about how his LGBTQ friends have been “patient” with him as he’s “come a long way,” so maybe there has been some recent influence on him? I honestly don’t know, though I suspect that all those sensitivity readers have been leaning on him pretty hard. His scalp has got to be worth quite a lot.

Jon, if you’re reading this, thanks for covering this story. I’m not particularly close to Brandon anymore, but I do run in many of the same circles here in Utah, and count him as an early mentor of mine, so I’m following this story with interest. Also, thanks for reading from the Family Proclamation on your channel. If you want to talk, feel free to leave a comment or shoot me an email.

What’s really behind the “Mormon Church”‘s stance on the Respect for Marriage Act?

Earlier this year, the US Supreme Court overthrew Roe v. Wade in the Dobbs v. Jackson decision. This was a major legal and cultural earthquake. A big question that arose from this decision was how will this affect Obergefell v. Hodges, which codified same-sex marriage as legal back in 2015? Most of the conservative justices stated that Dobbs does not affect Obergefell, but Justice Thomas stated that he was willing to revisit that case.

In response, congress crafted the Respect for Marriage Act, which would require the federal government to redefine “marriage” in a way that would recognize same-sex marriage equally with traditional marriage. What does this mean for those who believe that marriage should be limited to a union between a man and a woman? As I understand it, those who espouse this view could be prosecuted for discrimination if this bill passes. There are some protections for religious institutions, but many conservatives believe that these are too weak, and that this law would put us on the slippery slope to churches losing their tax exempt status and possibly even being forced to perform same-sex marriages.

To everyone’s surprise, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints came out with an official statement in support of this legislation, or specifically, this “way forward.” There’s been a lot of noise in the press about this, most of which is either misinformed or outright misinformation, so here is the full statement:

The doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints related to marriage between a man and a woman is well known and will remain unchanged.

We are grateful for the continuing efforts of those who work to ensure the Respect for Marriage Act includes appropriate religious freedom protections while respecting the law and preserving the rights of our LGBTQ brothers and sisters.

We believe this approach is the way forward. As we work together to preserve the principles and practices of religious freedom together with the rights of LGBTQ individuals, much can be accomplished to heal relationships and foster greater understanding.

Some outlets, like the Washington Post (where democracy dies in darkness), are reporting that this statement represents a doctrinal shift for the church, and an embrace of same-sex marriage. However, a careful reading should demonstrate that this is fake news calculated to create a false narrative and manufacture consent for that false narrative. Sadly, this is typical of MSM rags like the Washington Post.

Other commentators argue that the restored church has “surrendered to the spirit of the age” and is siding with Utah Senator Mitt Romney, who is ready to sign the Respect for Marriage Act as it stands, instead of Utah Senator Mike Lee, who is pushing for an amendment to the bill that would strengthen the protections for religious freedom.

Frankly, I don’t see that. The church’s statement does not endorse any specific legislation, but “this [new] approach,” and expresses support for “the continuing efforts of those who work to ensure the Respect for Marriage Act includes appropriate religious freedom protections.” (emphasis added) Yes, the statement came out before the bill passed the house and Mike Lee put forward his amendments, but I don’t see anything to indicate that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is siding with Romney over Lee.

But has the restored church gone over to the spirit of the age? At best, it appears that the church is making a strategic retreat in the culture wars. It’s certainly a far cry from the Proposition 8 debate in the 00s, in which Californians ultimately voted to ban same-sex marriage. What a different world that was! With this most recent statement, it appears that the church has switched from defending the traditional definition of marriage to pushing instead for protections on religious freedom.

How are we supposed to square this with paragraph 9 of the Family Proclamation? That was the question that Greg Matsen asked on the most recent episode of the Cwic Media podcast. For reference, here is paragraph 9 in its entirety:

“We call upon responsible citizens and officers of government everywhere to promote those measures designed to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society.”

When you read the rest of the Family Proclamation, which is a line-by-line, point-by-point refutation of many of the radical gender theories currently taking over our society (which is remarkable, since the proclamation was issued in the 90s, long before any of these radical ideologies had hit the cultural mainstream), it certainly seems to be at odds with the church’s recent statement, which supports “preserving the rights of our LGBTQ brothers and sisters” and “the rights of LGBTQ individuals.”

But what if those two documents aren’t at odds at all? What if the best way to “preserve and maintain” traditional marriage in our current cultural climate is also to preserve LGBTQ rights? In other words, what if the church isn’t capitulating or retreating from the marriage issue, but making a strategic retreat in anticipation of a new front opening up in the culture wars—a battle which will make strange bedfellows of same-sex marriage proponents and the defenders of traditional marriage?

In an ideal world, the church would want to foster a society in which the laws of the land are in harmony with the laws of the restored gospel—in other words, a society that defines marriage as between a man and a woman. Obviously, we don’t live in that society (at least, not here in the United States). So what are our options instead?

On the one hand, we can accept that same-sex marriage is now the law of the land, and seek to promote laws that strengthen both the traditional family and the families of same-sex couples together. On the other hand, we can push for the libertarian approach of “getting the government out of the marriage business altogether,” removing the tax benefits and legal protections of marriage and making the state totally agnostic to marriage and families.

Which of those two paths is more likely to “maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society”? Which of those paths is more likely to lead to a society where marriage is considered to be obsolete and unnecessary?

Which brings us to the next major front in the culture wars, which I believe is going to be between those who view marriage and family as a social goods, and those who view the family as a “system of oppression” and want to deconstruct and abolish it altogether. We got a sneak peak of this in 2020, when the Black Lives Matter movement posted the following statement on their website:

We disrupt the Western-prescribed nuclear family structure requirement by supporting each other as extended families and ‘villages’ that collectively care for one another, especially our children, to the degree that mothers, parents, and children are comfortable.

At the time, this statement created some controversy, and the organization ultimately took it down. If you search online for information about it, you get a bunch of articles “debunking” that BLM ever advocated destroying the traditional family. But the radical left’s modus operandi is first to hide and deny what they’re doing, then to accuse you of doing what they’re actually doing, then to ridicule you for pointing out what they’re doing, and finally to attack you for opposing it at all. We’re already well into the first phase of that process.

Black Lives Matter isn’t the only faction in the radical left that would love to destroy or abolish the nuclear family. Those who are pushing to normalize pedophilia would love to see such a cultural shift too. Same with those who are pushing the Cloward-Piven strategy of making us all more dependent on the state. Same with the Malthusian climate change alarmists who are pushing the depopulation agenda.

If this is the next big front in the culture wars, then conservatives might play right into the hand of the enemy by continuing to push a losing cultural battle for the traditional definition of marriage. After all, what better way to “get the government out of the marriage business” than to point out that we can’t even agree on the definition of marriage in the first place? And once the state becomes agnostic to marriage, we’re well on the slippery slope to a society that views the family itself as obsolete and unnecessary.

I would love to live in a society that recognizes the traditional definition of marriage as being between a man and a woman, and that vigorously promotes measures to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society. Unfortunately, at this point it’s going to take a generational struggle to get us to that society—perhaps even a multi-generational struggle—and we’re not going to win that struggle by fighting the last generation’s war.

So has the restored church capitulated on the issue of traditional marriage? Has it surrendered to the spirit of the age? Hardly. If anything, I think the brethren are just as far-sighted and inspired as they were when they gave us the Family Proclamation. Be prepared to make some very strange bedfellows in the coming years.

Confessing My White Privilege

From the title of this post, you’re probably expecting a snarky takedown of the concept of “white privilege” and a good solid fisking of critical race theory. And while I thoroughly despise everything having to do with CRT, liberation theology, and Ibram Henry Roger’s X Kendi’s ideas of “anti-racism,” I do have one point of white privilege that I do need to confess. That is to say, I do indeed have an undue advantage because of the color of my skin.

I get to be the boogeyman.

As a straight white cisgender male conservative Christian, the woke intersectional left may mock me, attack me, or otherwise attack me rhetorically for my values, beliefs and opinions, but they do not ignore me or pretend that I do not exist. For example, if I write a blog post that criticizes the wokeness of science fiction, File 770 will often pick it up. I’m not on social media anymore, but if I were, I’m pretty sure that my anti-woke posts would similarly spark a very hot debate, and get passed around by intersectional leftists as an example of white supremacy.

If I were a straight black cisgender male conservative, all of those people would treat me as if I didn’t exist.

Their entire system of belief depends on black people fitting into a role defined by neo-Marxism, which separates everybody into racially-defined groups and declares that certain races are the oppressed, while other races are the oppressors. Black conservatives, especially black Christian conservatives, repudiate this theory by their very existence, which is why you’ll often hear people on the left claim that they aren’t “black enough.” Which of course is just another way of saying that they don’t exist.

You’ll often hear woke social justice types accuse conservatives of “denying the existence” of people who are trans, or queer, or in one of their other intersectional victim groups. This is nothing less than confession through projection. If you’re gay and you’re conservative, you aren’t really gay. If you’re trans and you’re conservative, you aren’t really trans… except, if your skin color is white, they can always chalk it up to “interalized whiteness” or some other such nonesense. But if you’re black? No such thing.

Of course, there are some black conservatives who are prominent enough that the woke types cannot ignore them. Justice Clarence Thomas comes to mind, as well as Thomas Sowell, Larry Elder, Candace Owens, Justin Whitlock… but here’s the thing: because these prominent conservatives are black, they get WAY more hate and vitriol from the left than white conservatives. Ridiculous amounts of hate. Larry Elder, for example, was called “the black face of white supremacy” and nearly got egged during his run for governor of California. By a leftist. Would that have happened if he weren’t black? Probably not.

Here’s the thing, though: for every black conservative who is too prominent for the woke intersectional left to ignore, there are hundreds—perhaps thousands—of small fry like me who they can effectively unperson and ignore. Which isn’t to say that every black conservative creator’s struggles are due to woke racism, but it is definitely a factor, and one that I personally don’t have to deal with because I am the great white boogeyman. Any publicity is good publicity, especially when you’re small.

Of course, there is a way to remove this white privilege and equalize the opportunities for black conservatives and white conservatives alike… and that is to remove anti-racism, CRT, liberation theology, and all of this other woke garbage from our society. If our culture were not dominated by these ideologies, I would not be privileged above black conservative creators in this way. And frankly, that’s a world I’d much rather live in.

But this does make me want to find more conservative, black authors like me who are finding it difficult to get any traction in this industry because they are black and conservative. Indie is (to my knowledge) still a pretty level playing field, but traditional publishing is not, especially with the short story markets. And of course, promo sites and newsletters are going to be a mixed bag.

So if any of you know of some black conservative authors (or if you happen to be one), please let me know! I’d like to check them out.

Three common tropes that I hate (and what I’d like to see more of instead)

So I’ve been reading a lot of books in the last few months, which means that I’ve been DNFing a lot of books too, and I’ve noticed some recurring patterns in the books that I’ve DNFed. A lot of these are tropes that I’ve either gotten sick of seeing, or that tend to make for a much weaker book. Or both.

I thought it might be interesting to point a few of them out, but I don’t want this post to be totally negative, so I’ll counteract that by also sharing some positive tropes that I’d like to see more of instead. If you guys enjoy this post, maybe I’ll do something like it again in a couple of months.

The Only True Love is LGBTQ Love

I see this one all the time in SF&F these days. Basically, if there are two characters who are romantically involved with each other, or if there is a romantic subplot to the story (not the main plot: sci-fi romance is a separate thing, for purposes of this trope), then that romantic relationship has to be gay, trans, or queer in some way. Or polyamorous, I suppose (does poly fall under the “+” in “LGBTQ+”? Maybe it’s the “P” in “LMNOP.”)

From what I gather, this trope began when LGBTQ activists pointed out that their particular kinks and orientations were “under-represented” in SF&F. Publishers, editors, and authors responded by filling their stories with more LGBTQ relationships, in order to avoid getting singled out as not being sufficiently LGBTQ-friendly. It’s the same principle as the zombie apocalypse: you don’t actually have to be the fastest runner, you just have to run faster than the guy behind you. Of course, since the SF&F field is so thoroughly dominated by leftists, pretty soon every story had an LGBTQ romance in it, to the point where straight romantic sub-plots are now actually kind of rare, at least in the books that are winning all the awards. Which is how you know the “under-representation” angle was a lie from the beginning.

It’s gotten to the point where if any character at all announces themselves as LGBTQ in the first few chapters of a novel, or the first few paragraphs of a short story, I immediately DNF. Call me homophobic; I don’t really care. These stories are so predictable that I can often pick out both which characters are going to be LGBTQ and which ones will end up together, within a page or two of them stepping into the story.

Of course, the main reason I don’t like these stories is because I’m not LGBTQ myself, and personally find straight romantic subplots to be much more interesting and satisfying. But there is another reason, and it has to do with the way that all of these stories aren’t just about entertaining readers, but about promoting LGBTQ pride.

This is going to get me a lot of hate, but it’s true so I’m going to say it anyway: the only thing that unites the LGBTQ movement together is the normalization of sexual perversity.

Think about it for a moment: what do each of the letters in LGBTQ really have to do with each other? Most gays would be happy to live in a world without women, and most lesbians would be happy to live in a world without men. Both of them view bisexuals with veiled suspicion and sometimes outright hostility, as if they’re somehow traitors to the wider homosexual cause. Transgenders affirm their identity by playing into as many stereotypes of masculinity and femininity as they can, which puts them directly at odds with masculine women and feminine men. And queers adopt all sorts of positions that contradict—or even negate—every other letter in the pantheon.

The LGBTQ movement is so full of internal contradictions that the only way it can hold together is to unite against a common enemy, and the only enemies that they all have in common are the people who affirm that there is a moral dimension to human sexuality, and that some forms of sexual expression are immoral. Even the modern notion that all consensual sex is fine goes too far for these people, because it excludes pedophilia, since children are not capable of giving their consent. And does anyone really doubt that one of the LGBTQ movement’s ultimate goals is to normalize pedophilia? When it’s not uncommon to see children under 12 at pride parades, drag shows, and drag queen story hour at the local library, sometimes as the very stars of the show?

I’ll say it again: the only thing that unites the LGBTQ movement is the normalization of sexual perversity. As soon as the leaders of the movement draw a line in the sand and say “this is not okay, this goes too far,” the movement will turn on itself and the revolution will eat its own. Thus, every new form of sexual perversion must be one-upped by something even more perverse. That is why we are literally butchering and chemically castrating children now.

(As a side note, it’s worth pointing out that being gay does not automatically make you part of the LGBTQ movement. My brother in law is openly gay, but he’s also a practicing Latter-day Saint who rejects all of this stuff. His faith is directly at odds with the LGBTQ movement, and he has chosen to keep his faith.)

So now, whenever I read a book with two (or more) characters in an LGBTQ relationship, I can’t help but feel that I’m reading “message” fiction, where the message is ultimately to normalize some other aspect of sexual perversion. Sorry (not sorry), but no thanks.

Instead: More pro-family, pro-natalist, life affirming fiction

So what do I want see instead? More stories with strong, healthy families. Stories about motherhood and fatherhood, that affirm the importance of both parents in raising children. Pro-natalist stories where having children is seen as a good thing, not as destroying the environment or burdening the world with more mouths to feed. In other words, stories that affirm and celebrate the intrinsic value of life—every life.

The one thing that all LGBTQ relationships have in common is that they cannot naturally produce children. Because of this, stories that follow the “all true love is LGBTQ love” tend to be about found families, rather than natural families. Parents are often absent or abusive in these stories, and children are either adopted or non-existant. A significant number of these stories also tend toward the macabre, since affirming the intrinsic value of life ultimately invalidates many of these LGBTQ relationships.

But that’s not why I want more pro-family, pro-natalist, life affirming stories. It isn’t about bashing LGBTQ, but about presenting a vision that stands apart from the LGBTQ movement, and doesn’t kowtow to the activists’ demands. It can even have room for some LGBTQ characters and relationships. Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames is a good example of that, where one of the side characters is monogamously gay, and the protagonist is very much a family man. Another life affirming book I really enjoyed was To Sleep in a Sea of Stars by Christopher Paolini.

All Christians are Evil or Stupid

This is one you probably don’t notice if you aren’t Christian yourself, but I see it all the time, as do most other Christian readers that I know. If a character in a book or a story is some sort of Christian, then invariably they will turn out to be a villain, or so stupid that they’re less of a help and more of an obstacle to the protagonist. Or an eccentric curiosity.

It wasn’t always this way. Back in the 80s and 90s, there were lots of science fiction novels where the good guys were Christians. But these days, if the Christian character turns out to be a good guy, the author is either indie or a pariah to the rest of the SF&F field, like Larry Correia, John C. Wright, or Orson Scott Card.

Activists like to point out that if a majority of books tend to portray a particular race, gender, or sexuality in a negative light, it’s a sign that the field itself is racist/sexist/etc. They aren’t wrong. Now apply that to how mainstream science fiction and fantasy tends to portray Christians, and you begin to see the problem. There is a ton of anti-Christian bigotry in the culture right now, and it shows when you read most of these books.

Instead: More badass Mormons

So what do I want to see instead? More stories with badass Mormons. I’m only partially joking. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, of course I would love to see more books with members of my faith doing awesome and inspiring things, but I’d be happy to see other kinds of Christians too.

Even books with generic Christians as good guys would be nice, but it would be better if something unique about their faith is central to the story. For that, you need to go deeper than a generic approach, so it would be better to make the character a member of a particular church or creed. And even though we Christians have our own theological differences, and sometimes argue quiet passionately over them, I wouldn’t at all mind to read stories with more Catholic main characters, or Evangelical, or even a well-written Jehovah’s Witness.

But personally, I want to see more badass Latter-day Saints.

An Innocently Profane and Vulgar Childhood

This one isn’t quite as prevalent as the other two, at least in the books I’ve read recently. However, it is definitely a common trope, especially in more recent books. Basically, it’s when something profane or vulgar invades a character’s childhood, but that isn’t portrayed as bad or even significant. For example, when there’s a child on the page and the people around them are swearing, or maybe even the children themselves. Or as a child, a character is exposed to something sexual, but it’s not a big deal.

In most of these books, it doesn’t seem like the author is doing it intentionally. But as Jonathan Haidt points out, liberals tend not to value things like purity and innocence as much as conservatives, or even really at all. Since the SF&F field is so thoroughly dominated by leftists, I think they often tend to violate the innocence of childhood without realizing that they’re doing it.

But in some books, it seems like the author is doing it intentionally to make a point: either that innocence itself is an illusion, or that children do better when they aren’t sheltered from the harsh realities of the world (they don’t). Or often, the author just thinks it’s funny to juxtapose childhood innocence with the profane (it isn’t—at least, not to me).

Instead: More noblebright

This isn’t generally a trope that you see in noblebright fiction. Not that noblebright doesn’t wrestle with questions of profanity, vulgarity, and evil, but it does tend to respect the boundaries of childhood innocence. And even after the characters lose their innocence, they still tend to become purified by the events of the story. There is a difference between being innocent and being pure, and a lot of really excellent noblebright stories explore the finer nuances of that difference.

Noblebright isn’t very popular right now, but I hope that will change in the coming years. There are some very good reasons to think that it will. Of course, noblebright can be done poorly, and stories that don’t put their characters into any real peril tend to be boring and unengaging. But it is possible to put children in peril without violating their innocence, or rejecting the concept of innocence to begin with. That is what I want to see.

Do trans people exist?

There’s this video clip currently making the rounds where Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO) confronts a crazy-eyed law professor from Berkely and gets called out for, among other things, saying that trans people “don’t exist.” It’s a highly partisan exchange that I’m sure will be used by both sides to rally the base, but it also gets at the fundamental incoherence of the modern LGBTQ+ movement, which I find absolutely fascinating.

First of all, it’s worth examining the accusation that Hawley doesn’t think that trans people “exist.” What exactly does that accusation mean? It can actually mean one (or both) of two things:

  1. The category of “trans” is not (or should not be) a legitimate identity for legal and societal purposes.
  2. People who identify as “trans” should be un-personed and deprived of all their basic human rights.

It’s extremely disingenuous of the professor to conflate those things, because it is entirely possible to believe the former without believing the latter: that is, to believe that “trans” as a category is illegitimate while also acknowledging that people who identify as “trans” are still people and deserving of basic human rights. Also, it’s disingenuous of her to argue that denying “trans” as a category causes people who identify as “trans” to commit suicide, as the suicide rate for transgender people is the same after they transition as it is before they transition. But I digress.

The thing that makes this interesting, at least to me, is that if you follow the professor’s logic to its conclusion, it actually undermines the fundamental premise of the gay rights movement: that gays, lesbians, and bisexuals didn’t choose to be gay, but in fact were “born this way.” Allow me to explain.

At first, the argument was “I didn’t choose to be gay, I was born this way.” Thus the concept of sexual identity was born, with categories for heterosexual, homosexual (gay/lesbian), and bisexual.

Then, the argument was “I’m a man/woman who was born in a woman’s/man’s body.” In other words, that gender and sex are separate things, and it is possible to identify with a gender that is different than your sex. Thus, the concept of gender identity was born, and with it the category of transgender.

At this point, it’s important to point out that the “born this way” argument still held sway. The idea wasn’t that trans people choose to change gender, but that they were, in fact, born in the wrong body. Thus the distinction between sex and gender.

But once the trans category was added to the movement, transforming it into LGBT, that created a major epistemological problem for its members: how do you know which category you belong to? That is, how do you know whether you’re actually a gay man, or really a woman in a man’s body? You can’t be both. You were either born one way, or you were born the other. So which one is it, and how do you know?

This is where the movement began to fall apart, because there is no objective way to tell the difference between gay/lesbian and trans. It’s entirely subjective. And once we allowed that, suddenly we got a bunch of people saying things like:

“What if I feel like a man today, and a woman tomorrow?”

“What if I don’t feel like a man OR a woman?”

“What if I feel like I’m actually a cat, or a wolf?”

“What if I feel like I’m a totally different gender/sexual category that none of y’all have imagined yet?”

And suddenly, just like that, the “born this way” argument was completely undermined, because if gender and sexuality are subjective, then it can be whatever you want it to be. Which is how we got personal bios like this one:

Serah Eley is a software developer and former podcaster who once produced a weekly science fiction podcast called Escape Pod. It’s since gone on to become somewhat successful. She strangely mispronounced her name as Steve Eley at the time; she’s since realized that life is much more fun as a woman, and came out as transgender last year. Serah lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her two wives, Alison and Cat.

So if there were ever any betting pools on what happened to Steve: changed sex, joined a committed lesbian love triangle is the dark horse winner. She is, obviously, still Having Fun.

So gender is something you can change on a whim because it’s “more fun”? That doesn’t sound at all like Serah was “born this way.” It sounds a lot more like “reality is whatever I want it to be.”

But if sexuality and gender are all subjective, the entire premise that the movement was originally built upon—that LGBT people are “born this way”—is completely false, and the “born this way” argument is outdated at best, and at worst was a Trojan Horse for the LGBTQ+ agenda from the very beginning.

Either way, by the standards of this Berkeley professor, gays, lesbians, and bisexuals “don’t exist.”

Just like man and woman “don’t exist.”

Just like objective reality doesn’t “exist.”

Because biological sex, “born this way” arguments, and objective reality itself are all fundamentally transphobic.

That’s where you get if you follow the LGBTQ+ logic to its ultimate conclusion. The fundamental premises on which the movement is based are totally incoherent and self-contradictory. It’s remarkable, really, because the language the movement uses is not all that different from the Orwellian doublespeak of 1984.

But hey, I’ve also been reliably informed that reason and logic are all just constructs of white supremacy, so obviously that means that professor crazy-eyes is right and there’s nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.

Christians: The Most Marginalized and Underrepresented Minority in SF&F (By Design)

So I’m reading The Expanse, and I recently finished the third book in the series, Abaddon’s Gate. Really great book! I thoroughly enjoyed it. Lots of action, lots of adventure, and a very optimistic ending, which is not something you see a lot of in science fiction and fantasy these days.

However, there was one small thing that bugged me about one of the major viewpoint characters: Anna, the Christian pastor. To be fair, they played her religious devotion straight, and didn’t just make her a hypocrite or the bad guy—which is another thing we don’t see a lot of in SF&F these days (more on that later). But they also made her a lesbian, and to be honest, yeah, that bugged me.

Why did that bug me? Because most conservative Christians (and most Muslims, by the way) believe that homosexuality is a sin. Not that being attracted to the opposite sex is inherently sinful, but that acting out on those sexual desires is. Of course, there are plenty of liberal churches that do not believe this, but their theology is in conflict with all of mainstream Christian teaching from the time of Christ himself. So by making Anna a lesbian, the authors were basically saying “yeah, she’s a Christian, but she’s not that kind of Christian.”

Not that I blame the authors for doing that. I totally get that they were writing for a mainstream SF&F audience and wanted to be able to bring up theological topics in the story without turning off any non-religious or LGBT readers. By making the religious character a lesbian, they signalled that the character was “safe,” even if she was a Christian.

But it got me to thinking: when was the last time that a mainstream, bestselling book, movie, or series had a devoutly religious Christian main character who 1) is not a villain or anti-hero, 2) is not a hypocrite, and 3) is not LGBT? Kind of like the Bechdel test, except for Christians.

Firefly comes to mind, though that was twenty years ago. Monster Hunter International has a devoutly religious side character—does he get his own book? I haven’t read far enough in the series yet to know. Looking at my bookshelf, I can see A Canticle for Leibowitz, The Speed of Dark, Hyperion, and Folk of the Fringe, but all of those books are old now. The most recent award-winning example I can think of is Eric James Stone’s novelette “That Leviathan Whom Thou Hast Made” (2010).

I’m having a very hard time thinking of anything published in the last ten years that passes the test. Even with authors like Larry Correia and John C. Wright, those guys have faced tremendous pushback from the left. It really does seem like there is an effort, at least from some quarters to erase good, faithful, conservative Christian characters from SF&F, and to ostracize or marginalize any authors who dare to buck that trend.

It reminds me of a family history podcast from NPR that I checked out once, only to find that the very first episode was about someone finding that two of their ancestors were gay. Laying aside the rather obvious (and hilarious) biological problems with that—adopted family is still family, after all—the implication here was that by making family history LGBT, NPR was making it “safe,” probably for their liberal listeners who have come to associate family history with the Latter-day Saints.

At the same time, we’ve heard a lot in recent years about how important it is to include underrepresented groups in fiction—to make sure that every reader can find characters who “look like them,” or “love like them.” And yet, none of the people championing this cause seem to care whether I can read about characters who “look like me” when it comes to religion. In fact, it seems that the people screaming the loudest about how we need “more diverse books” and more “own voices” are also the loudest in trying to erase and marginalize Christians like me.

So was it really ever about “representation” or “diversity” at all, or was all of that lip service about tolerance and diversity just a Trojan horse from the very beginning? Because here’s the thing: if I as an author don’t include any LGBT, BIPOC, or LMNOP characters in my books, I’ll get slammed by the woke activists for not having enough representation in my books… but if I do include any “marginalized” characters, then I’ll be accused of cultural appropriation. Unless, of course, my book promotes the woke activists’ agenda visavis things like climate change, ESG, gay pride, etc.

“Show me the man and I’ll show you the crime” said Lavrentiy Beria, one of the most psychopathically evil agents of the Soviet Union. That is exactly the same principle that the woke movement operates on, and unfortunately, that movement has come to dominate the SF&F field (just look at what they did to Mercedes Lackey). So really, it should not come as a surprise to anyone that they don’t apply the same principles of tolerance, diversity, and equal representation to conservative Christians—which are rapidly becoming the most marginalized and underrepresented minority in science fiction and fantasy.

So what is the solution? Honestly, it may just be to smile and turn the other cheek. If we give these people enough rope, they will hang themselves with it. Get woke, go broke. Granted, there are reasons to be worried about ESG, Big Tech, and Amazon’s dominance, but it is still possible to build a resilient author career where you aren’t beholden to all that. The more of us accomplish that, the less power these woke crazies will have over us.

Lash out in kind, bend the knee, or smile and turn the other cheek… definitely the third option is best. It’s what Christians have been doing since the time of the Savior Himself, and is the unique genius of the religion that has allowed it to thrive in the face of so much persecution. But it’s important to keep in mind that turning the other cheek is not the same as bending the knee.