“Were You Expecting Faeries and Unicorns? My Bad.”

How is it still fascinating to people that women can write fiction? Action, suspense, thriller, crime, dark comedy, etc. are not exclusive to cockbearers. In fact, the capacity to tell stories or write prose has nothing to do with genitals! And yet here we are, 2014, still discriminating against writers because of their sex. I know it’s inherent, it’s conditioned, it’s assumed decorum, to marvel over a woman’s achievements in a predominantly male field, but just because it’s your habit doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.

In recent correspondence, an emailed compliment included the phrase  “…for a woman…”, which caused me immediate stomach pain. I fake-appreciated the adoration from an older man, who, as he paid for my book said, “So you’re the authoress!” in a tone really meant to express, “So you’re my hot Latina nanny!” Ay yay yay…

Then there’s the guy who’s gotten all his socialization cues from porn. Somehow the relay of my business card to the gent turns into a, “So what’s up?” followed by a wink and an overt head nod towards his car. I use this card for promotion, not prostitution. I’m glad the new prints only have the website and my business email address…can’t imagine how many “U up” texts I’d receive had I left my number on there.

And women…SISTERS…you are really bad at helping promote your own! Women can be criminals without having some gruesome, sex-related trauma catapult their character forward. Sheesh, the amount of victimhood women look for in their anti-heroes. Aren’t you sick of the “Good Girl Gone Wrong” arc? I sure am! You were looking for someone to cry herself to sleep every night after a day’s work? Sorry, try the next aisle, you’ll find that bullshit between Melissa Bank and E.L. James.

Yeah, I look fantastic in nothing but knee-high boots. You’re right, I do have a pretty mouth. But don’t let the tits and ass distract you, I also write great fiction.