Born To Be White: How Biracial Historical Heroes Reinforce The Status Quo

I was in the shower, thinking about how much I enjoyed KJ Charles’ Unfit to Print and its two POC leads, when I had a revelation about books I don’t enjoy so much. Why do half-Indian heroes in most historical romances continue to bother me so damn much? Not just because they don’t engage with biracial identity or transracial adoption or anything of that nature in any meaningful way, but also because they reinforce the relationship between white adjacency and white supremacy. When that hit me, I practically skidded across the tub from the force of the “duh!” The whole point of these sexy dukes and earls and generally wealthy hunks with tans is that they can move in white worlds. They “belong” in ballrooms, in clubs, in the House of Lords. It’s aspirational, inspirational. I mean, heavens, we wouldn’t want them otherwise, would we?

You're Not Reinventing the Romance Wheel

Every few years — hell, maybe it's every few months — someone tries to set themselves up as the arbiter of what romance novels have validity and deserve to be representative of the genre. Whether it's declaring historical romance dead and hailing the rise of New Adult, suggesting the New York Times review these authors and not those books for a "smarter" presentation of romance, penning pieces about the "new" heroines of "new" feminist romances, or dismissing Harlequin as outmoded and out of touch compared to independent authors...someone is always trying to reinvent the wheel to their specifications. It would be kind of funny if it weren't so divisive. Given how much gatekeeping we already have to deal with from publishers, do we really need the extra elitism and attempts at taste-making?

Romance has been blazing trails since the 1970s. We could even go all the way back to Heyer and Austen. I'm not going to go over the ground that many academics and romance historians have already tread. I'm just pointing out that none of this is new. The writing and reading of romance has always, always, been a feminist act for its time. And trends within the genre have always been cyclical. Alpha heroes and strong women who push back against them didn't just crop up five years ago. Neither did heroines in their late teens/early 20s. Neither did super-filthy, boundary-pushing love scenes. (Bertrice Small's Wild Jasmine had an f/m/f scene with anal sex. In 1992.) You're not bringing sexy back, Justin. It never left.

Schooleikha's in Session — Catch Up On My Videos!

Did you know I have a YouTube channel now? I'm kind of bad at announcing these things, but, yes, you can actually WATCH me rant about things.

I've started a video series called Schooleikha's in Session, talking about diversity from a craft perspective. So far there are only three clips, but I will happily make more — especially if you leave me questions in the comments of this post! I'm happy to tackle anything related to writing and social media branding.

For now, check out these three videos about writing diversely!

THE WHY:

HOW TO:

THE WHO (not the rock group):

Kerfuffles, TARDISes and Empty Seats

I recently got into the strangest fracas on Twitter about racism in publishing...where some diversity naysayers asked if I'd read conservative books (because, clearly, I'm biased against such things) and wondered who my favorite Supreme Court Justice is. Frankly, I have no idea what the latter has to do with publishing (it's Ruth Bader Ginsburg, because DUH), but the former is a more troubling query. Because, let's face it, given the literary canon according to schools and colleges, most of what we read is by right-leaning white authors. If anything, I'm making up for not reading lefties and social progressives for 22 years!

So, yeah, that was weird. Also weird was this idea that talking about the disparity in publishing means painting white people as racists. Because, as always, being called a racist is the terrible part. Not the inequality in the system. And it's such a clever, kneejerk-emotional way to distract from the actual topic. It centers the conversation back on white cishet folks instead of the work that still needs to be done to include everyone.

But here's what I really don't get about these perpetual kerfuffles: why asking people to read more is a bad thing. As I said on Twitter, so many people act like being told to diversify your reading is limiting. No, dude, it just means more awesome books. The capacity to devour stories is infinite. It's like a TARDIS. There's plenty of room in there. You can read dead white guys, living white ladies, and POC. That's all that's being said. I mean, I love to read. I've been binge-reading to shut out the world, and I flow from one text to the next. Paul Tremblay to Sonali Dev to Sherry Thomas to Sabaa Tahir to Amanda Bouchet. It's "and" not "instead of."

No one is forcing medicine down your throat. Like I've said many times before, POC aren't kale. We're not some new health trend. We've always been here. The Mahabharata is estimated to date back to the 8th or 9th Century BCE. The Epic of Gilgamesh is dated around 2100 BCE. I could go on. But, basically, POC were spinning stories while paler folks were still scribbling in the dirt. So don't pretend you were here first. You just built the modern stadium, the modern playing field, and then put us in the parking lot...not realizing that there's plenty of room in that stadium. Tons of seats left to fill.

Am I mixing my metaphors? I might be mixing my metaphors.

Stop being weird, people. Just read more goddamn books.

     

A Whole Lotta Words on Doing Things By Halves

Romance author and Washington Post columnist Sarah MacLean put out a call on Twitter earlier today, asking for India-set historicals featuring heroes and heroines of color. Maybe it's because I kind of understand Sarah-speak by now, or because I have a lot of hope, but I automatically assumed she was asking about stories by authors of South Asian origin writing about South Asian people. The answers that came back were all recs for books by white women...and at least four white authors volunteered that they're writing stories with half-Indian characters.

Sophia Duleep Singh, actual biracial person and
 suffragette, in 1910

White authors are writing historical romances with half-Indian characters, and all I can ask is "Why?" Because you care about the biracial and marginalized experience at the time or because you think it's sexy and the right touch of angst? If it's the latter...I thought we were past that two decades ago, aside from a few authors here and there who still love to drop in a half-Indian peer. If you claim it's the former...show me the receipts. I would love to see a fictionalized take on Sophia Duleep Singh. Or Merle Oberon (yes, I know Michael Korda already did that). But I know that the reality of romance writing is much different. What we're told and what we actually get are often seas apart.

And, let's be honest, why isn't the character 100 percent Indian? Is there something wrong with that? Will it completely change your story? Or is the half-Indianness just a tool, an easy source of conflict? A dash of spice? Biracial people, whether they're on the page or picking up the book, deserve FAR better than that.

With diversity and inclusivity very much part of the romance publishing conversation, I really question intent. Is this about being cool and trendy? Are you trying to jump on a bandwagon? Because I've talked about that. So MANY of us have talked about that. We're not this hot new thing. And we're not demanding diverse characters from everybody. You seriously don't have to include POC...especially if you're going to half-ass it. Because another part of the conversation we're having is about harm. Is your portrayal going to cause someone pain?

No, I'm Not Done Talking About This

I've been thinking a lot about diversity panels and diversity months and visibility. Bandwagons vs. real change. How to be seen and how to be heard. It's sticky and tangled and problematic, and I know some people wish I would shut up about it. But I can't, because I know I'm not the only one with questions. There are others who don't feel comfortable asking the room. Bull in a china shop that I am, I don't mind shouting.

There's a backlash right now about the word "diversity" and how it's pretty much just lip service. An empty buzzword being tossed around You also see a lot of big-name authors of color turning down diversity panels and landing on "diverse books" lists because they want to be part of the larger picture, general panels, general lists, and not pigeonholed by race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, etc.

Why POC Aren't Kale And We'd Rather Have Wine Than Your Tears

I'd like to talk about what constitutes kindness and bravery, and what any of it has to do with writing romance. But there is so much, so many different threads, that I'm not sure how to pull them together — especially without citing hundreds of years of racial disparity, colonialism, colorism, segregation, privilege, etc. It's a lot.

You can read some brilliant thoughts on what's going on in Romancelandia right now — what HAS been going on for decades — by Courtney Milan, Melissa Blue, and Zoraida Córdova.

Now here are some of my thoughts.  

RWA15 in NYC: A Tale of Two Conferences

This year's Romance Writers of America conference in New York City was my first as an author. I've attended three past RWAs around the country as an industry professional — and it was really interesting to attend as someone the programming was ostensibly for rather than as someone just observing for the purposes of coverage. It was also really fascinating to realize that, even with only one hat on, I was basically at two conferences.

On Writing Diverse Characters...and Moving Past Passive Aggression

What do you do when you stumble across a book that is so hurtful you physically recoil? These past few months, I've developed an almost pathological obsession with such a book. Every time I see mention of it, I flinch and my gut roils. I subtweet about it. I message friends and wonder what, if anything, can be done about it. And I tried to just grin and bear it. I know, I know, you're all thinking, "Suleikha, why didn't you just call this out publicly? That's what you do."

Yeah, that's what I do. And that's what exhausts me, what makes many label me as histrionic or one of those Angry Women of Color who doesn't want white people writing diverse books. Inevitably, one way or another, the hurtful book will still continue to hurt me. I will be the Bad Guy. Sure, sometimes it can be fun, even vindicating, to be the Bad Guy. But, mostly, it eats at you. Because you know that calling out race-fail is ultimately worse than writing something racist. That's the lesson we're taught. Being a whistleblower often means you get the blowback.  

So, I'm going to try and channel my anger and frustration into something more positive. Here are five basic things to keep in mind while writing a character of color, in particular characters of South Asian origin.

Bollywood Confidentially: A Hard Look Back

Ever have one of those "If I only knew then what I know now" moments? Sometimes, it feels like my entire experience in romance publishing is that moment. More and more, I circle back to what was initially my great joy: my Bollywood Confidential novellas for Samhain Publishing. I was so proud to get these stories out there. And then so demoralized when they did poorly. But I learned a lot and if I could go back, there are so many things I would do differently. Here are just a few.

1. I would take the people off the covers. I mean, I LOVE these covers. They are stunning. Cover artist Angela Waters is a goddess. But POC on covers don't sell well -- particularly for authors of color. It's hard lesson to learn and a tough truth to swallow, but them's the breaks. Mainstream romance readers (by which I mean primarily white ones) take one look at these covers and go, "Oh, this isn't for me." Similar to why they won't hang a left at the African-American section at the bookstore. The sad-funny thing is, my books don't do well with Indian readers either!

Sometimes you just have to slap a piece of furniture and a puppy on a book to get folks to realize it is for them to read. 

Spilling Tea, Choking on Silence and Perhaps Burning Bridges

I'm not a bestselling author. I'm not a degree-holding academic feminist who purports to validate the romance genre by reading it. I'm an author and reader of color who grew up with a certain amount of upper middle class and model minority privilege — none of which holds any weight in the publishing industry. Because, you see, like most of my fellow writers of color, I am invisible.

The past few weeks saw Stephanie Dray, a white author of historical fiction, "joking" about writing Thomas Jefferson-Sally Hemings BDSM romance. Women of color expressed hurt on Twitter, and those issues were later outlined more extensively in the blogosphere here and here. Dray made sure to seek absolution from well-known authors like Courtney Milan, Mary Robinette Kowal and Jenny Trout, and Beverly Jenkins lauded her for her apology. Ultimately the fracas became centered on Trout, Anne Rice and Jaid Black. Slavery and rape were forgotten. The black women hurt by the comments were forgotten. White authors with a bigger followings were having some feelings, so that took precedence.

Le Sheikh C'est Chic? Not So Much!

Valentino and Agnes Ayres, The Sheik

Rudolph Valentino played The Sheik in 1921, based on a 1919 novel by Edith Maude Hull. Almost one hundred years later, swarthy men in flowing robes are still wooing the ladies and bending them to their lusty will in the pages of Harlequin and Mills & Boon category romances. Whodathunkit? As much a sexy captivity narrative as the noble savage Native American romances that authors like Cassie Edwards made bank on, sheikh romances have prevailed where other outdated, racist, colonial tropes have died. Neither rain nor snow nor 9/11 nor the Iraq war have killed this plot. Why?

Why aren’t sheikh romances tagged and shelved as interracial romances? Because, to a large extent, they aren’t. They are a white, largely Christian, woman’s fantasy as much as a sparkling vampire or an alphahole billionaire, largely written by and for that market. In essence, a sheikh is not real. Stripped of all true cultural markers — namely practicing Islam — pale on the book covers, bowled over by the first fiery western woman they see… this is the rhetoric. This is the narrative. And it serves only one audience — certainly not the pseudo-minority culture it portrays.

Multicultural Fiction Is Not a Monolith

As I follow publishing trends for both my day job and my budding career as a romance writer, I'm always fascinated by reader/reviewer/publisher response to genre fiction written by writers of color — primarily women of color, but men as well. Nowhere else, except perhaps in LGBT fiction, will you find that we are all judged together. Someone reads one bad book by an author of color and, all of a sudden, you don't know if you can read another one. Or, one book by an author of color didn't hit, so we're not going to publish someone else.

Did that happen with Fifty Shades of Grey? No. With the plethora of lackluster New Adult novels that followed Easy? The motorcycle club books that hit the shelves after Kristen Ashley hit it big? I can't recall seeing people fear that the next book might suck. No, if anything, the subsequent titles were snapped up like Chex Mix at a Super Bowl party. And even if some titles are less than thrilling, people keep buying. Publishers keep publishing.

Lit From Within: Where Do South Asian Romance Writers Make a Name?

With a novella set to release in two months — my fourth India-set story, and the do-or-die of the Bollywood Confidential series before I move on to another subgenre — my mind is turned to marketing and promotion. I keep coming back to one question: Where does the South Asian romance writer go to find an audience, a support system, a foundation? (And, more importantly, a springboard to get our works Out There.) Do we look to our community, or to the romance community at large? Both are hard to break into, much less navigate.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping

Earlier this week, I guest-blogged at The Galaxy Express about the challenges of standing out as a writer of color in a market laden with both conscious and unconscious white privilege. It's not exactly a fun topic. Not one that makes friends and influences people. Of course, the hard topics seldom do.

I was talking to a fellow writer recently about how it's expected that people of color write about POC experiences. She observed that, in contrast, when a white author writes about a minority experience — be it Kathryn Stockett and The Help or a romance novel where one protagonist is a racial or sexual minority — there is an immediate rush to applaud, to dole out accolades for the "risk" they took. As if an author of color doesn't have to do the same due diligence and research? As if we're not "brave" or "bold" for addressing the same issues? And, of course, when POC write white stories, well, that's just...the status quo. No kudos there. No applause. Because everyone should be doing that, right? Because it's the foundational narrative? Because it's the foundational reader?

It's pretty disturbing when you break it down like that. It's disheartening, too.

It's My Party, And I'll Face-Palm If I Want To

Kimono. Dashiki. Kilt. Sari.

Superhero. Disco queen. Flower child. Vampire.

The first list consists of native cultural dress. You know, clothes. The second list is of costumes. You know, playing dress-up. So why, in this day and age, is a well-known publisher of erotica and erotic romance like Ellora’s Cave continuing to confuse the two?

“I really need to NOT know about Ellora's Cave's Bollywood parties,” I said on Twitter. “For the sake of my blood pressure.” The thing is, people in general need to know about these kinds of themed parties, for the sake of common sense.