Website Revamp on the Way

My author website, stephenmarkrainey.com, is currently undergoing a total revamp at the capable hands of long-time friend Deena Warner, web and graphic designer extraordinaire. I designed my site back in the early 2000s, but as interwebz technology has exploded over the past couple of decades, I've not been able to devote the time, energy, and resources to remain proficient at web design beyond the most basic; at best, I've been able to keep my site updated semi-regularly. However, since my former host, helpinghost.com, is closing down as of February 1, I decided to take the opportunity to have the old webmonster remade and based at a new site host.

Deena has created and maintained websites for many of the biggest and the best creative names in the dark lit field (among many others), so I am confident that, after all these years, my virtual home will not look quite as old as I am. For the time being, the thing is under construction, so it may show up as wonky or nonexistent.

Will update here when there are updates to announce, and I do thank those of you who see fit to follow my (mis)adventures here, there, and everywhere. In the meantime, check out Deena Warner's site here. Her clients include Nicholas Kaufmann, Dean Koontz, George R.R. Martin, Kimberly McCreight, Katherine Ozment, Tim Waggoner, and many, many others.

Bad Behavior

Why not? I'm gonna step right up and post my thoughts sparked by the latest of the endless social media explosions because, for me, these go beyond just the immediate cases.

I dip into the social media pool fairly frequently, but I don't live on social media. I don't always see the latest kerfuffle in the literary world at the moment it happens, or block the latest persona non grata as fast as some people would like ("You need to do better!" [to be fair, not directed specifically at me, but apparently to those whose fingers don't perpetually hover on the block button]), especially when said PNG's page doesn't reveal diddly about what he or she might have done. At the risk of sounding defensive — not that I'm gonna apologize for handling my social media presence as I see fit — I use almost all my waking hours writing, editing, hiking, working at being a good husband, or doing something personally productive with my time and energy (why, yes, I am that self-centered); dealing with the perpetual weirdness of social media, while important in many ways, tends to be a lower priority.

That said, I do appreciate finding out that, yes, I should be aware of certain goings-on with so-and-so, and I'll weigh that info on its merits and act as I see fit. But I don't do that on your timetable, Mrs. Kravitz.*

Now, no one has come after me personally, but some of the vehemence among commenters I've seen implies guilt by association if you haven't jumped on the bandwagon fast enough for their liking. Transferring anger from the offender to the otherwise uninvolved does kind of chap my ass.

All that said, YES, OF COURSE, I condemn the behavior of Mr. JD Barker. He was on my friends' list, not that I can recall ever interacting with him. I hope that my own conduct online and in-person would never suggest tacit approval of deplorable behavior.

*It occurs to me that, for the younger set, you might wanna look up Bewitched.

It’s the Work... and Then Some

I decided to drag this post from Facebook over to my blog, mainly for posterity’s sake. It is surely vaguebooking to those who don’t know the origin, but pretty clear to those who do.

 

I kept saying I wasn’t gonna wade in... but I’m wading in.

 

It is about the work. No one has said it wasn’t. But is the bulk of the work you see and know representative of a picture that’s bigger than you might have realized, or is it an insular subset?

 

I’ll be very honest: particularly in my editorial capacity, I have historically said that it is all about the work, and once I put out the call, the onus is on the creator who wants me to see their work to get it to me. And sell it to me. It still is.

 

But because I also make it a point to listen when people whose experiences in our chosen field, whose personal and cultural backgrounds might be radically different from mine (and even from the stable of creators and readers that so many of us know so well), speak up and question whether my/our experiences and perspectives could stand some expanding, well, yeah, it might rub me wrong at first, but if that questioning doesn’t give me food for thought — or reason to explore beyond my well-honed worldview — then perhaps that’s my failing.

 

As writers, editors — hell, creators of all sorts — aren’t we among the most passionate, most vocal proponents of education?

 

Do we somehow feel we’re beyond being “educated” ourselves?

 

We all have our prejudices; I certainly own a set. But as far as this business goes, a thought or two (and I’m grabbing this bit from my response on a related Facebook thread):

 

You know, I’m 63 years old, I’m a straight white male, and I’ve been in this business a long time. I have many "old" relationships in the field. But I still consider myself a novice. I am learning — with writing, with editing — with relating to people — and although I can’t begin to read as much as I’d like to, thanks to my aging eyes giving me problems, I strive very hard to stay informed, to welcome and honor different viewpoints, and to do anything but remain stagnant. Everything I write is a practice swing in the game of getting better.

 

Editing-wise, certain lovely things are happening... and while the project I’m heading up honors its old-time roots, above all, it’s for playing the long game. To stay not just relevant but maybe even motivational in this business.

 

I simply feel this is the decent way to be. And that said, despite being a pretty well-educated old fart, maybe I don’t yet know enough about THE WORK to make as informed an evaluation as I thought I did.

Listen

Being a writer of fictions and foolishness of all sorts, I express myself in words, probably too many for some people's liking. Over the years, I feel I've become a better writer by reading, experiencing as much of life as I can, reading, meeting other writers, and reading. I tend to absorb massive amounts of information and am, by nature, compelled to regurgitate it in what I hope is a creative, engaging manner.

By the same token, I feel I've become a better person by listening. Listening more than talking. This is hard for me because I have a lot of pent-up stuff to talk about. I like expressing myself. I like to communicate. Listening can be difficult because all that inner noise gets in the way. But I'm trying to become a better listener. Every opinion I have, every conviction, comes from listening, evaluating, and collating. I try to make decisions, not in a vacuum or echo chamber, but based on the best information I can absorb. Lately more than ever, I feel it has been a time to listen. To—at least occasionally—shut the fuck up and just listen. To voices that I ordinarily might not hear. That I might disagree with. That I might find offensive. That impart wisdom based on experiences I can never know.

Social media allows everyone to have their say. Unfortunately, now more than ever—likely because 2020 has dealt us more than a few serious boots to the head—it seems to me that way too many people are yammering when they should be listening. The signal to noise ratio is bad. Very bad. Blind, dogmatic BS, shared because it simply fits a convenient but mindless narrative. So, I'm going to ask, nicely, that some folks take a breather, suck it up, and just freaking listen. Me, I am not egotistical enough to think I have all the answers. A lot of times, I don't even have the right questions. But can you—will you—listen? You might learn something. I sure have, and I plan to continue.

Bear in mind, listening does not mean blindly accepting; far from it. It means critically examining and filtering. That is how we build convictions.

And that, in perhaps too many words, is what's happening upstairs today. Thank you for listening, and I shut up now.

Whose Living Room Is It, Anyway?

I posted this on Facebook, but it's relevant in the bigger picture, so here 'tis:

An actress of my acquaintance, for whom I have considerable respect, often posts links to articles that decry racism, spotlight achievements of women, focus on social injustice, and cover other topics of relevance. A few days ago, a blustery male broke into her thread warning her "not to get political," since doing so was an all-around bad idea—for her.

Really?

Of course I see boorish, arrogant, rude, outright stupid posts day after day, and I have become desensitized to most of it. On the other hand, I not only appreciate but expect a show of decent manners if someone posts on my Facebook page. (No, I'm not referring to vulgar fucking language, that's just gonna happen around here.)

In the case I'm referring to, it wasn't even the content of the link that set the chap off. Content can be discussed, debated, debunked, dissected, and/or dismissed. No, this was about the audacity of the lady exercising her freedom to post what she sees fit. In my book, no one has the right to come onto another person's page and tell them they need to shut up (barring terms of service violations, and such) for their own good. If someone comes onto your page to tell you you're doing it wrong, then they are doing it wrong. I posted exactly this on the thread in question, not that Ms. Actress needed me or anyone else to shut Mr. Mansplainer down.

Happily, this doesn't often happen on my page. For one thing, when it does, the offender doesn't get to revisit. If you're on social media, you have your own forum to post whatever you see fit. If you think Ms. Actress ought not be posting what she sees fit on her own page, you need to run back to yours and spew your vacuous noise there.

What she or I or anyone else chooses to post is none of your goddamn business.