The Patriarchal Call is Coming From Inside The House

*A version of this was posted on Facebook in late April.

I've been thinking, lately, about cis men's acceptance into — and often domination of — feminine-coded spaces. Mainly because I have this clawing, gut-wrenching resentment of it that's been building over the past few years. It's like acid reflux but less pleasant. I tried to flip it around. To interrogate it from a different perspective. "Suleikha, if someone was this resentful of your inclusion in an exclusively white space, what would you say?" But you know what...? That's not the same thing. Because in NO WAY would I be allowed to gain the kind of power and notoriety that men acquire amongst women's groups. I would not be ceded the floor at every opportunity. My word would not be treated as gospel. You can be the token minority, but you can never lead the pack. That is not the case when you're a dude surrounded by women.

Is there an element of misandry in what I'm feeling? Probably. I'm self-aware enough to acknowledge that. But I also know that it's a particular type of man who inspires this roiling in my gut. There are plenty of guys I don't mind having around when I'm with women friends or with fellow industry professionals. The ones that rankle are the sea lions, the mansplainers, the guys who have to jump up and down and go, "Look at me!" so that every eye in the room is now on them. Because it's disingenuous. It's disrespectful. It's claiming a space as yours, marking your territory and turning a collaborative space into your harem.

Spoiler Alert: Someone Dies in This Movie

One of my biggest cinematic pet peeves is when a film is advertised as a romance and you've invested your heart and soul in a beautiful love story...and then half the pairing kicks the bucket. Pushes up daisies. Shuffles off the mortal coil. THEY DIE. Because it's somehow noble and artsy and the partner left behind can cherish that experience and move forward and live a full life with skydiving and Pulitzers and shit.

How is that romantic? Like...no. Heartbreak is terrible. If I wanted heartbreak, I'd just stay in my own life, not fork over dough to escape into someone else's!

My Newish Release is Up for Pre-order!

What do you do when a bunch of your stories go away due to publisher-related natural disasters? You put up more! This labor of love is a collection of shorts and novellas, both new and old, spanning my entire publishing career so far. Some of them will be familiar to readers — like Heart Murmurs and Spice & Sand — so don't feel pressured to buy Ishq Factors if you already own those two tales! But I'm not going to complain if you DO still buy it. ;)

It's $2.99 for 12 stories of varying lengths, and I'm happy to furnish ARCs to reviewers. The book drops on April 4, 2017! 

From the past to the future, from hotel rooms to hospitals to homes, passion can bloom anywhere. In this collection of previously released and brand-new stories, Suleikha Snyder describes the many permutations of love, of ishq.

You have a thing for your hot boss. You can’t get your ex out of your head. You’re not supposed to be together. You are supposed to be together. He doesn’t remember you. You can’t forget her. She died. You die. Somehow, love and lust still find a way. These are the Ishq Factors.


Pre-order Ishq Factors at:

Amazon  | Barnes & Noble |  Kobo |  iBooks

Also, OMGWTFBBQ, this is a thing that has already happened: