Racism, Sue, and Suzan

Hello, Dear Readers, I am trying to get myself back into a blogging frame of mind. Not easy but I’m trying. Today, however, I am reblogging Teach Me Tonight‘s excellent post on the past and present racism of Sue Grimshaw and how she is perceived by people on both sides of the issue.

As Twitter filled with authors and readers wondering what possessed two separate small publishers to hire her as an acquisitions editor,  one, Jack’s House, let her go but the other, Glenfinnan, has doubled down on the insistence that Grimshaw is a Nice White Lady and not at all what so many people have the receipts for.

Glenfinnan’s CEO, Suzan Tisdale, even went live  to give us 12 cringe worthy minutes defending her bestie. This link will get you to the post. THen Teach Me Tonight posted her blog with some history of Grimshaw’s past behavior and a transcript of Tisdale’s defense including screenshots of people’s reactions posted on Twitter.

Racism and the Corporate Romance Buyer: a “little fiasco” involving Sue Grimshaw

There’s been a lot of discussion about readers and publishers and who has the greatest role in blocking the publication of particular books/preventing them becoming a success. There’s also been discussion about how the RWA awards (which can help boost an author’s career) might be shaped by racism and homophobia.

Recently, another type of player has been under discussion: the corporate book buyer. In particular, Sue Grimshaw. In 2007, Grimshaw was interviewed at Dear Author and the importance of her role was explained: Link to post.

The next day Vivanco posted a second piece, Shaping Submissions via Omissionswhich details how Glenfinnan’s submission requirements keeps any sort of diversity out.

Both posts provide a clear picture of the effect of a pattern of behavior that should no longer be socially, ethically, or morally acceptable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Penguins

It’s Penguin Awareness Day.

Brian Bilston's Poetry Laboetry

They were sighted off the south-east coast,
drifting in towards the port;
their boat, a snapped-off block of ice,
melting slowly in the warmth.
 
By the docks, a crowd had formed itself;
mob-angry, it looked on.
Placards were thrust. A chant began:
GO BACK TO WHERE YOU’RE FROM.
 
‘They’re just economic migrants,’
declared a spokesman for the right.
‘They’ve come to rob us of our jobs.
It’s as clear as black and white.’
 
‘Tragic,’ said the Home Secretary,
mock-sadness suppressed his smirk.
‘We’d let them stay but here’s the rub –
they have no paperwork.’
 
‘They’ll undermine Our Way of Life!’
The warnings raged on Twitter.
‘They stink of fish.’ ‘They’ll rape your wife.’
‘There’s bombs beneath those flippers.’
 
‘PENGUIN CLAIMS “MY HOME IS MELTING!”’
The Sun printed in disgust.
‘But whose fault is THAT – except THEIR OWN?
What’s that to do with US?’

View original post 24 more words

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.  -John McCrae