Linkfind from Ellen Datlow and Jay Lake.

The gist of the article is some Sci-fi ghetto rumbling about how the genre gets no respect from the literati who use genre conventions in their literary masterpieces.  Margaret Atwood:

“Science fiction is rockets, chemicals and talking squids in outer space,”

Well…sure it is.

Here’s where I diverge from the expected path that some other genre authors/editors are taking: I’m not outraged.  Sure, it’d be nice to have the Establishment’s respect.  Everyone wants to be respected.  Everyone wants critical acclaim.

But at some point or other, the speculative fiction genre as a whole has to stop worrying about whether or not we’re sitting at the cool table.  There’s nothing less cool than desperation, and a LOT of what I hear coming out of the mouthy keyboards from my speculative fiction acquaintances sounds like clutching and weeping and gnashing for a seat next to the cheerleaders.

Look.  We’ve got bigger fish to fry than the Booker Prize.  I mean, SCREW the Booker: have you seen the circulation numbers for Asimov’s Magazine?

Or ANY speculative fiction magazine?

What concerns me far more than the loss of respect– or more realistically, the never-even-had respect– is the loss of readership.  Fewer and fewer people are picking up our mags; fewer and fewer people are buying science fiction books.  We should be caring less about winning the literary awards, and caring more about winning what one author called Beer Money.