Pink Ghetto

In an interesting piece, author Jeb Kinnison talks about how women have taken over publishing:

Publishing is another field where women have come to dominate an industry — as in teaching, by the 1960s “There was a dearth of willing men and a plethora of educated, young white women qualified to [do editorial work] for low salaries.” Publishing had always employed large numbers of women in clerical and lower-level positions though men dominated editorial, managerial, and sales jobs. This began to change rapidly in the 1960s, and by the 1990s publishing was dominated by women, until today every part of the industry is female-dominated, from agents to editors to even authors. It’s often noted that the reading of books also became a primarily female-associated activity during that period, with women buying and reading far more books than men to the point where female-favored genres like romance outsell all other fiction.

This is why, one supposes Borders came to be dominated by books decked out in pink and purple and lavender pastels. This is how Twilight became a thing.

The list of  'chick-lit' books is endless. Each is about a pretty yet somehow single 20 something with an interesting career living in an exposed brick apartment in Manhattan, or Chicago if necessary.

They're all the same.

Which is fine. There must be at least a hundred indy authors writing alternate history. At least I steer clear of the Civil War. For now.

My foray into traditional publishing ended in 2009. Since A Line Through the Desert, I haven't even tried. I wonder if an office full of 20 something gals disappointed that their own 'Mr. Big' (yes I know a character from Nookie in NY, sorry)  hadn't come along just weren't interested in ALTD. Why would they like a novel about a tank driving, chain smoking, skirt chasing young man who says things like 'I've ridden a girl bareback before.'?

Writing has taught me about the massive chasm between men and women, or I should say, reinforced my beliefs about said chasm. When I was working on To Defend the Earth, I described the Chinese general, Chin-peng in a long sentence, noting his chiseled jaw and broad, metal decorated chest. For a man this says pages worth of description. Our minds fill in the details. The chick-editor at Amazon wanted me to go on and on about Chin-peng.

I read 50 Shades. Why wouldn't I? Sorry girls, this is what you're reading? In public? At the pool? Look, girls, this guy lead, I can't remember his name and I'm not going to look it up, is utterly shallow and predictable. He's the girl equivalent of the female lead one sometimes see's in military sci-fi. You all know the one I mean, fellas. A female naval officer say, really good at her job, but also pretty. Maybe she's a space marine with a scar across her high cheek bones and below her crystal-blue almond shaped eyes. Oh, and she's a tigress in the sack, or bunk I should say.

The last time I noticed the mass-woman-paperback  phenomenon was in the late 90's. I was running a swimming pool and noticed the 30ish moms ( they were all coming to my pool, I was 24, tan, 40 pounds lighter and walked around lifting a dumbbell wearing nothing but red swim-trunks, but I digress)...well, they were all reading Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Whatever the fuck that is.