How to Apply for SFWA Membership with Small Press or Self-Published Credentials

One of the things I’ve been trying to do in recent years is look more at the history of the field. In the thrift store, I love finding F&SF anthologies from the 60s and 70s, in part because it’s interesting to see which names kept on going, which faded away. Often the most riveting story in a collection is from a writer whose name I’ll only see that once. In reading anthologies, I find that often one of the most revelatory parts is the introduction, less for anything said about the stories than for clues to the publishing climate at the time.

Recently in the thrift shop, I picked up a couple of paperbacks: two volumes worth of early Hugo winners, edited by Isaac Asimov. Of course I bought them. How could I not, in light of recent controversies? They’ve been an interesting read – particularly when I’m reading the first Nebula volume at the same time — and sometimes illuminating. If you’d like to read the book I pulled these from, it is More Stories From the Hugo Winners Vol II, published in 1971.

I certainly have realized that despite my admiration for Asimov’s work, the good doctor and I would probably have not gotten along particularly well — at least from my point of view. Every intro to a story seems much more about Asimov than either story or writer, in an egocentric way that seems a little charming but I’m betting was pretty grating to be around at times. (I by no means claim that Asimov is the only SF writer to exhibit this trait.) But Mr. Asimov is not here to defend himself and was very much a product of his time, so I’ll leave it at that.

Because I found it striking, this is taken from his introduction to Anne McCaffrey’s “Weyr Search”. It’s a glimpse into the social mores of that time (the early 70s) that’s interesting. I have refrained from adding any inline commentary. As you read, you may admire my restraint in that.

Anne McCaffrey is a woman. (Yes, she is; you notice it instantly.) What makes this remarkable is that she’s a woman in a man’s world and it doesn’t bother her a bit.

Science fiction is far less a man’s world than it used to be as far as the readers are concerned. Walk into any convention these days and the number of shrill young girls fluttering before you (if you are Harlan Ellison) or backing cautiously away (if you are me) is either fascinating or frightening, depending on your point of view. (I am the fascinated type.)

The writers, however, are still masculine by a heavy majority. What’s more, they are a particularly sticky type of male, used to dealing with males, and a little perturbed at having to accept a woman on an equal basis.

It’s not so surprising. Science is a heavily masculine activity (in our society, anyway); so science fiction writing is, or should be. Isn’t that the way it goes?

And then in comes Anne McCaffrey, with snow-white hair and a young face (the hair-color is premature) and Junoesque measurements and utter self-confidence, talking down mere males whenever necessary.

I get along simply marvelously well with Annie. Not only am I a “Women’s Lib” from long before there was one, but I have the most disarming way of goggling at Junoesque measurements which convinces any woman possessing them that I have good taste.

Coupled with all the accounts of Isaac Asimov groping women, the part about the girls backing cautiously away while lusting after Ellison, who was a hottie (IMO) or at least a lot better looking than Asimov, makes perfect sense. Of course, it’s impossible not to mention a much later incident that underscores some of the irony so rife in all of this, although my understanding is that he regrets that episode and is unlikely to repeat it.

Here I typed out and then deleted a protracted rant about the hypnotic powers of breasts. I’ll save that for some other time.

Okay, so back to that intro. It’s interesting because Asimov positions himself very much as one of the good guys, “a ‘Women’s Lib’ from long before there was one” because it is immediately followed up with “plus women really like it when I compliment them on their breasts.” OMG there are the hypnotic powers again.

Well, maybe by the end of the piece, he’s moved away from breasts. Let’s see:

In August 1970 Annie and I were co-guests of honor at a science fiction conference in Toronto. That meant one certain thing. We had another of our perennial songfest competitions. We sing at each other very loudly, and finally we work ourselves up to a climax*, which is always “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”

We each have our pride, of course, not so much in any skill at singing, but in loudness and range. And while everyone in the audience gets far out to non-wincing distance, we get louder and higher. (I happen to have a resonant baritone, but Annie perversely refuses to consider me anything but a tenor. “Never trust a tenor,” she says darkly.)

It always ends the same way. At the final note, she takes a deep breath and holds. I do, too, but before the minute is up, I fade, choke, and halt, while that final note of Annie’s keeps right on going — loud, shrill, and piercing, for an additional fifteen seconds at least.

And then everyone applauds and when I say, “It’s not fair. She has spare lungs,” and point at her aforementioned Junoesque proportions, no one seems to care.

There’s another line about how she’s in Ireland and he misses her, but I’m gonna leave it at that and let’s look at two things.

A. not so much in any skill at singing.

Okay, that’s just so far off the mark that it’s weird. This is from Anne McCaffrey’s biography:

She studied voice for nine years and, during that time, became intensely interested in the stage direction of opera and operetta, ending that phase of her experience with the direction of the American premiere of Carl Orff’s LUDUS DE NATO INFANTE MIRIFICUS in which she also played a witch.

Given that, when I see words like “shrill” and “piercing” applied to that final note, I’ve got some doubts about whether people are scrambling out to “non-wincing distance” on her account. And I find it interesting how all of that experience doesn’t get mentioned, because I’m pretty sure he would have been aware of it.

Was this perhaps an in-joke (always a possibility in this field), Asimov fondly tweaking “Annie”? Even allowing for that, from my vantage position, it seems like not just slightly hostile humor, but humor aimed at diminishing her achievements, and that sets off certain alarm bells for me.

B. And then everyone applauds and when I say, “It’s not fair. She has spare lungs,” and point at her aforementioned Junoesque proportions, no one seems to care.

I must admit, I am sure that this moment happened in real life at least once. Probably more. And I read that “no one seems to care” as an appalled silence in which the rest of the room, including McCaffrey, thought “FFS, Isaac,” exchanged glances, and wordlessly established that they would all ignore the gaucherie of a professional author being such a bad loser that he’s blaming her win on the fact she has “Junoesque proportions” aka a hefty set of mammary glands. Remember, it’s the early 70s, and “women’s Lib” is enough of a catch-phrase for it to fall pretty easily off Asimov’s tongue.

And you know, we can argue that the women of the time didn’t mind it, or didn’t object at the time, but a few things are clear. One, the boob-grabbing, whether verbal or literal, has been going on a while and two, here we’re not getting much talk about the story or the lady’s actual accomplishments, other than being well-endowed. And that, I think, is at the heart of some of this — that women writers often have this “hey, hey, my eyes are up HERE” thing that goes on and while it’s annoying, when it gets to the point of obscuring one’s writing, it’s downright alarming.

This may be why some of us, when reading pieces about the history of the field, object to descriptions of the female writers and editors that focus on their physical appearance and really don’t tell us what we want to know: what were they like? What writers did they like and mentor? How did they help shape the field? What were the friendships and rivalries like? I’d rather know that than cup size; I am aware mileage on such matters varies.

I’ve hit longer than usual length here, so I will leave the introductions to Samuel R. Delany, Robert Silverberg, and Harlan Ellison (who has two stories in the work) for another time. There’s a really peculiar distancing thing that happens when Asimov references Delany** that doesn’t happen with any other writer, as least in the intros I’ve read so far (about half). But in looking at those, I’m also going to argue that Asimov’s emphasis on the personal in the introductions isn’t restrained to McCaffrey. There’s a lot about the physical appearance of the male writers as well. It’s just some interesting differences in stress.

Want to know more about McCaffrey? You can hear her talking for herself here:

*See earlier note about admiring my restraint.
**I’m aware of what he said to Delany; what he says in the intro simultaneously reflects and belies it in a way that may provide some insight.

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, an august non-profit on whose board I have served in the past, held its business meeting in January of this year, and since it was virtual, I had the chance to attend, which was a nice chance to see some familiar faces, meet some new ones, and hear what the organization has been up to in the past year.

An interesting development for SFWA that seems to have been flying under most people’s radar is that the organization’s members will be voting on whether or not to change the membership requirements in a way that the organization has not previously done. This may be one of the biggest changes made to the membership yet in the organization’s 50+ years of history.

The new qualifications: a writer can join as an Associate member once they have earned $100 over the course of their career, and as a Full member at the $1000 level.

That’s a huge and very significant change from the current, somewhat arcane membership requirements of $1000 over the course of a year on a single work to become a Full member. Particularly when you think that one of the most contentious propositions on the discussion boards in the past has been the idea of re-qualification, of making people prove they qualify on a yearly basis. Moving away from a system so complicated SFWA had to create a webform to walk people through whether or not they qualified to something like this is a big win in so many ways.

Why I’m absolutely voting yes:

• This change makes SFWA available to more people in the earlier stages of their career, which is often when they most need that community, support, and advice.
• More and more varied members will make the Nebulas a heck of a lot more interesting and perhaps combat some of the logrolling that I’ve witnessed over twenty or so years.  This has the potential to really shake things up in a good way.
• More and more varied members means more volunteers and budget and that’s huge. One of the best things about admitting indie writers was the wealth of knowledge, experience, and enthusiasm added to the organization overall. This is even more of that.
• That also means more people talking on the boards. I’ve been a moderator on those boards for a long, long time, and they remain a source of community, news, and information for me. The more the merrier, in my opinion. 
• This change also opens up the game writing qualifications in a way that answers a lot of the existing issues. SFWA’s admitting game writers has been a bit bumpy, mainly because of the incredible variety of ways that writing can manifest.
• On a small personal level, it may mean I’ll witness less truculent bullshit from people personally affronted by the existence of the past requirements, although people will continue to think SFWA is a gelatinous cube.

For this to pass, enough of the full members need to vote on it. If you are a full member, I urge you to check your email for the mail with the voting link, which would have come on January 15, with the subject “[SFWA] 2022 Call for SFWA Board Candidates & Bylaws Vote”. The cut-off date for getting this done is February 15, a rapidly approaching deadline.

One other change from the board meeting answers the question of how this affects the idea of “SFWA qualifying markets,” which has in the past been used as a way to make sure fiction markets increased their rates every once in a while. We’re going to see a fiction matrix that looks at a number of factors, including pay, but also response time, quality of contract, etc. It’s very nice to see this long overdue project finally manifest, and I bear as much guilt as anyone in the long overdue part, since I was around when it was first proposed and should have kicked it along significantly harder than I did. I’m very happy to see this and ten thousand kudos to the people who made it happen.

There wasn’t much else to the meeting that surprised me. Like a lot of the F&SF organizations in 2021, live events have been a problem. (This surprised me given that SFWA was one of the first organizations to put on a pandemic version in a way that really showcased what a virtual event could be.) But hotel and event stuff has been problematic for a lot of events, to the point where some seem moribund or seriously endangered, and given that, it’s unsurprising that cancellation costs of the event have wounded the SFWA budget.

Overall though, SFWA remains pretty robust financially, and the Emergency Medical Fund, Legal Fund, and Givers Grants programs are still doing stellar work. You’ve seen some of that continue to play out in the DisneyMustPay campaign. I will remind people that it’s a good place to direct charitable donations, and that you can also support it through the Amazon Smile program, buying SFWA’s Storybundles and HumbleBundles, or even by buying one of those cool secret decoder rings.