Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Branding your platform, or platforming your brand?



When you are first thinking about starting a new blog or website, if you're like me and you go searching for tips and tricks to make it look interesting (eye-catching but easy-to-maneuver), one tip is often to make sure you know what your site's purpose is and make sure you keep the focus on that. If you blog is about being a first-time mother and is for first-time mothers, you shouldn't stray to movie reviews. If yours is a crafting blog, there shouldn't be posts about your trips to the gym. 

I've always thought this was good advice—your goal is to build a brand, so to speak, and talking about anything and everything dilutes that brand—but I've also always had a hard time sticking to that. CoffeeQuill was a blog I began because 1. I am a writer, and 2. A writer has a blog, for them to talk about their process, their stories, their tips and tricks, and the challenges and delights of publication. 

But earlier today I was reminding a friend that they are more than a writer. It can be a big part of a person's identity—it certainly is for me—but it isn't the whole of who I am. And frankly, there are only so many posts one can make about the importance of the oxford comma. (Don't get me wrong, I will defend the oxford comma to my dying breath, but there's only so many times someone wants to hear about it, and I know from experience, for someone people the number of times is often zero.) 

I am a writer, but I also love music and art and fashion and history and nature and crafting. I take photographs of the flowers around my neighborhood, and landscape pics of the sea. I sew stuffed animals and messenger bags and totes. I wire-wrap gemstones and create necklaces and bracelets. I loved sculpture when I took it in high school, and the only thing really stopping me from doing it now is space and equipment. I love fantasy art, and am essentially teaching myself Photoshop to improve my digital art and graphic art design skills. Don't get me started on my love of watching (and critiquing!) TV shows and movies. 

I have a variety of social media outlets, tumblr for the fandom primarily, twitter for short bites about important issues in the publishing and movie industries. Both of these to address, signal boost, and examine issues of privilege, equality, and representation. Facebook is for more daily life things, keeping in touch with friends I don't get to see as much. Livejournal (yes, I'm still on LJ) for personal venting and self-analysis, and for keeping in touch with some authors who also use it (I am not the only one!). And two blogs, Red-Inked Leaf for very specific editing posts (updated rarely because so much has already been said, and I don't want to rehash the same things without adding something new or different). 

That leave CoffeeQuill. As I said, it started as a writer blog, but my interests are varied. 

I made a Yakul (from Princess Mononoke) for a friend of mine.
Here's what I realized. Even though I think it's a good idea to have a focus for one's blog, there is a way to do that while still bringing in the variety of interests you have. 

That mom blog reviewing movies might do so from the perspective of someone who needs/wants to bring their child, or for whom being a mom has changed their perspective on what they find amusing or worth their time. The craft blogger talking about their time in the gym might be examining time management—how to fit in crafting with self-care or other obligations. Or they might be talking about how the gym provides them the energy to craft, or a chance to generate ideas, returning home with a lot more plans for things to make. 

I write fantasy. I create worlds that are informed by my knowledge of art and fashion and history and politics. The publishing industry is informed by and informs the world's ideas and attitudes about equality, representation, and diversity. The photographs I take sometimes become inspiration for locations, and the drawing and painting and crafting are ways for me to give my mind a break when a story is being difficult, and sometimes they help me visualize something I couldn't before. When I post about the ABC show, Once Upon A Time, I am breaking down the story structure and looking for ways to make my own writing better. When I write about white privilege, I am examining my own attitudes and seeing how they inform my writing, whether I want them to or not. 

The key is bringing it back to your platform, your brand. It's not always easy. (I'm sure there are posts where I could've done better to bring it back to the writing angle. It's a learning process.) But it's worth the effort. You get to write about something you enjoy, and you give readers a bigger glimpse into who you are. 

The author blogs I've most enjoyed have been ones that also talked about their families and pets, their daily walks, the shows they enjoy watching, and the issues that are important to them. There's more to them than just the writer, and it's okay to show that.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Why Pop Culture Matters


It's the "Age of the Geek," as Alec Hardison would say. He's a hacker on a TV series that ended four years ago, but his words are no less true.




In many ways, most people are geeks, expressing their deep interest in a particular film, television show, band, hobby, or sport. They are not just comic-collecting, bespectacled nerds brandishing a wand at a moment's notice. The world is full of geeks, and many of these geeks engage directly and enthusiastically with popular culture.


Pop culture is usually viewed as something silly, fun, and not worth thinking about too deeply. Tell that to the sports fan with countless stats memorized, or the budding musician who spends hours practicing their favorite band's songs. Fans of the "geekier" side of geekdom—genre-specific films, shows, and books—often express their  interest by writing and creating art based on it, but some also engage with it through critiques of the shows and movies they love.

Unfortunately, critiques of big names in pop culture are invariably met with someone saying, "Why are you complaining about this? It's fiction! It's not real! It doesn't matter!"

They couldn't be more wrong. Yes, these stories are fictional. Yes, wizards and superheroes aren't real. But it absolutely does matter.


Recently, JK Rowling was criticizedfor her presentation of Native American magic in the wizarding world. Many people, including fans of the Harry Potter books, felt she didn't do enough research. They argued that she appropriated concepts and values of Native American nations (ignoring the differences between nations), and that she presented a non-white culture as less civilized than their European counterpart. For example, while establishing in the original series that wandless magic showed exceptional skill, she implied the lack of wands among Native American magic-users was a sign that they were less developed than European wizards.

Marvel is also not immune to criticism, as more images from their upcoming Dr. Strange film illustrate a blatant appropriation of Asiancultures with nary an Asian actor in sight. Films like Dr. Strange contain costumes, settings, and props inspired by Asian cultures (often lumping the many different countries into one vague culture. And yet, the presence of Asian actors is completely missing. When that occurs, it can feel as if the filmmakers are treating the cultures themselves as props—that the look of Asian cultures is worth using, but the actors from those countries aren't. Children notice that.

Fiction—be it fantasy, science fiction, horror, superheroes, or any genre bringing the unreal to the page or screen—tells us something incredible about the things that are important to us as human beings. It matters, not just to the fantasy and sci fi geeks, but to everyone who reads and watches and engages with these fictional portrayals.

http://www.quirkbooks.com/post/awesome-racebent-harry-potter-fan-art-and-why-racebending-matters

Rowling writes about wizards and dragons and magic. She also writes about a boy growing up in a role he never asked to be in, joining a new school, and navigating a culture that's unknown to him. How many people have been the new kid at school? How many have had to deal with the expectations of adults around them?

Marvel's X-Men, the crime-fighting group of super-powered mutants, has long been seen as a metaphor for race. Kids growing up with the comic books, learning how mutants respond to often hateful reactions from non-mutants, see a similarity in how people from other races are treated, making real-life experiences easier to understand.



Representation matters. Pop culture matters. Because even in a world of magic, superheroes, aliens, or ghosts, the characters are based on our understanding of humanity, and there's no way to write a story or make a movie without consumers looking for themselves and learning about life. When a piece of pop culture deliberately ignores a group, or dismisses a population's experiences or identity, it is a reflection of the world we live in.