In late July six years ago I was still
coming off the high of my double final in the Paranormal category of the
Romance Writers of America’s® Golden Heart® contest for unpublished
manuscripts. I attended the conference with all my fellow GH finalists (the
Firebirds, one of whom was also my blog partner Laurie Green) and basked in the
glow of attention and good wishes from some 2000 romance writers and industry
pros all that week.
A few weeks later I actually got “the call”
from one of the hundreds of agents I’d queried in my years of hunting. That GH
final had done the trick, catapulting me past all the other poor shlubs in the
slush pile to put me in front of the right pair of eyes. Someone who liked me, really liked me!
Now I’m actually a
published author, with four books out there that I can honestly say I’m proud
of. I have a few reviews, almost all of them good. I have a little bit of a
presence in the social media world. Sales? Meh. But at least I haven’t fallen
off the cliff in the Amazon rankings. I’m not entirely invisible.
Some goals I’ve given up on—I won’t be
published traditionally. Don’t think I want that anymore; don’t think I want to
give up the control I have over my creativity now in return for a dubious
promise of promotion and sales. Other goals stay out of reach—I’d dearly love
to kick my sales up a notch (or ten). And I’m not ashamed to say I want to
final in the RITAs® before the RWA® puts them forever out of my league.
And, mark my words, that day will come for
those of us who work the indie side of the street. RWA®, in its recent misdirected
attempts to become more “professional” will eventually make it so that any but
the most prolific and profitable authors will be unwelcome, just like every
other writers’ organization on the planet.
At one time, RWA® was unique because it encouraged
newbie and unpublished writers to join and learn from the more experienced
members of the organization as they came up. Once you had worked your way to the
top, mentoring your younger, less successful peers, was expected and
applauded. “A hand reaching up and a hand reaching down” was an unofficial
motto.
And, believe it or not, people really did
take that seriously. I can’t tell you how many well-known authors took the time
to give me free advice in the hectic minutes before the literacy signings, or
between panel discussions at Conference. I benefited from free writing critiques
in online seminars conducted by Linnea Sinclair and Angela Knight. I met
people. I heard people share their expertise in panels and roundtables.
But a few years ago, RWA® began to change.
Requirements for becoming a member of the Professional Authors Network were
raised, then raised again, primarily, it seemed to me, to make it harder for
anyone who was not traditionally published to join. The award ceremony for the Golden
Heart® contest at Conference was demoted from an event happening along with the
glamorous RITAs® (the Academy Awards of romance!) to a separate luncheon in the
middle of the busy Conference schedule.
And, now, predictably, the Golden Hearts®
have been eliminated altogether. The contest that has launched so many careers,
that is essentially the biggest Golden Ticket for aspiring romance writers in
the world, will be discontinued after the 2019 contest.
I am disappointed. I am saddened. I am
outraged. I am frustrated. But I can’t say I am surprised. I saw this coming
years ago.
Oh, the RWA® “leadership” says this decision has been made
on purely economic grounds. The GH contest has been losing money for years,
they say, with fewer and fewer entries and not enough judges. It doesn’t pay
for itself; it takes too much administrative time; and, worst of all, aspiring
writers aren’t interested in it anymore in this day of self-publication.
The problem is, of course, that for years the
leadership has been ignoring suggestions from the membership of RWA® for how
these issues could be addressed: raise the entry fee; insist, as we do for
RITA, that entrants serve as judges; look to successful chapter contests for
better ways to encourage entrants; change the categories(for
God’s sake!) that are as moribund as a library card catalog
from the Sixties. And, most importantly, reinstate the award ceremony. Entrants
dropped off precipitously as soon as they saw they would be seated at the kiddie
table even if they won.
But none of these changes will be made and
none of them were ever going to be made because RWA® has set out to remake
itself in the image (God forbid) of the Science Fiction Writers of America® or
the Mystery Writers of America®, organizations for which “professional author”
status is a prerequisite to
membership. For those organizations, education is not a part of their mission;
mentorship is not a part of their makeup. And, for damn sure, collaboration is
not what they are about. Competition, yes. Collaboration, cooperation and
comradery, um, no. Just look at how they are treating Hugo winners who happen to be female and/or of color in assigning
panel slots this year at SFWA’s WorldCon
to see the future of RWA®.
What’s the answer? I’m not sure. A
revolution from the inside of RWA® seems unlikely. We may have to look for a
visionary organizer to establish a new kind of group outside the confines of
traditional publishing, without the entanglements of the back-stabbing,
book-stuffing, algorithm-manipulating indie shark scammer crowd. Right now,
that seems like a lot to ask.
So, maybe just look at this pretty picture
and try to breathe.
Cheers, Donna
