Social Media Hiatus

I’m taking a social media hiatus right now. It’s too easy to lose myself in endless conversations instead of doing the work I want and need to do: writing and editing books. I will be off social media for all of March, and we’ll see about April. If you need me, of course you can always e-mail me at hi DOT saundra AT gmail DOT com. Love, love, love and all the best wishes for you for this spring. Get ready to leap forward, the future is coming!

The Pattern of Bias in VOYA Magazine reviews of LGBTQIA+ Literature for Teens: An Open Letter

I sent this letter to VOYA publisher Edward Kurdyla, co-owner and reviews editor Lisa Frueh Kurdyla, Editor in Chief RoseMary Ludt, and to VOYA’s editorial board, Ellsworth Carman Rockefeller, Paula Brehm-Heeger, Pam Spencer Holley, Teri S. Lesesne, Diane Tuccillo and Deborah Taylor on the evening of Thursday, October 20, 2016.

________________________________________________________________________

Dear VOYA Magazine and Editorial Board,

Because you invited me to show evidence of a queerphobic bias in your reviews after you found none, I have gathered that evidence and I am bringing it here for you to reconsider it. I hope that you will read all of this, and reflect on it, and reevaluate your previous position.

For the record of bias (not including Kody Keplinger’s RUN, as the issues with the biphobic line in that review have been fully enumerated,)  I will present four young adult novels with LGBTQIA+ content.

I will present VOYA Magazine’s and another trade review of the same book, as taken from the Barnes & Noble website on October 19, 2016.

First is ASH by Malinda Lo, with reviews from VOYA and School Library Journal. I reproduce them in full so you can read and compare them.

VOYA – Ann Welton

Ash has lost her mother. Shortly after her father remarries, he dies as well. Taken far away from her beloved childhood home and its magical woods, Ash becomes an indentured servant to Stepmother and two Stepsisters. Befriended by Kaisa, the King’s Huntress, Ash is offered a chance to ride in the first great hunt of the season. She desperately wants to go, but in order to do so, she must first enter into an illicit bond with the Fairy, Sidhean. Unsure of what her full repayment might entail, Ash only knows she would risk anything to see Kaisa again. Part one of this Cinderella-with-a-twist remake displays all of the fine elements of a Donna Jo Napoli tale. In the second part, however, the story begins to degrade. Ash’s life is followed from ages thirteen to eighteen, and yet there is nary a mention of any budding sexual preferences. It is therefore, a bit bizarre when Ash ultimately develops feelings for Kaisa. Also, the Huntress herself is fairly undefined; one feels at a loss to fully grasp her connection to Ash or even her physical details. More disturbingly, the male characters are either nondescript or negatively portrayed, which is somewhat off-putting and unnecessary (Father inexplicably dwindled away the family fortune; Prince is war-worn and bloodthirsty). Overall it is an admirable first effort, and unless there is an objection to same-sex romance (which is neither overplayed nor in-your-face), this book should appeal to teenage girls and fairy tale/fantasy fans. Reviewer: Ann Welton

School Library Journal

Gr 8 Up—Described as “Cinderella…with a twist,” Ash is in many ways the familiar fairy tale about a girl’s move from comfort to despair to true love (with a little help from fairies and magic). Standard Cinderella images set up the story: after losing her mother and later her father, Ash is treated as a servant in the home of an unkind stepmother and two unfriendly stepsisters. She has ties to the fairy world, attends the royal ball in an enchanted dress, catches the eye of the prince, and finds love by the end of the story. However, while structural similarities exist, ideologically Lo’s beautiful and dark tale takes the story to a new place. It is not about Ash being found and saved by a charming prince; instead, it is about her courtship with Kaisa, the King’s huntress, a relationship that burgeons over time and is based on more than just initial attraction. Despite Ash’s grief, oppressive guardianship, and dangerous flirtation with the fairy Sidhean, who promises to steal her away from her sadness, the protagonist finds her own salvation and chooses to live and love in the real world and on her own terms. Ash will appeal to readers looking for GLBTQ titles, but fans of romance, fantasy, and strong female protagonists will also embrace this fine debut novel.—Jennifer Miskec, Longwood University, Farmville, VA

The bias in the VOYA review is 
on several levels. The reviewer states “there is nary a mention of any budding sexual preferences.”

1) People have orientations, not sexual preferences.

2) This implies that any queer character in a book must grapple with their attraction and come to terms with it for it to be legitimate.

The reviewer goes on to say, “It is therefore bizarre when Ash ultimately develops feelings for Kaisa.”

Is it bizarre when het characters
develop feelings for each other over the course of the book? Why would it be bizarre when queer characters do?

The review culminates
with the line, “Unless there is an objection to same-sex romance (which is neither overplayed nor in-your-face)…”

This again sets different standards for queer relationships. Would we ever say that the romance in Becca Fitzpatrick’s HUSH HUSH is in-your-face?

This echoes language used
against LGBTQIA+ people, for example: “They need to keep it in the bedroom,” I don’t care what they do in the bedroom, but they don’t need to bring it up in front of my kids,” or “They don’t need to rub it in my face.”

LGBTQIA+ people are people–
their attraction and their romances are not inherently more sexual than heterosexual romances, nor should they be more occluded from view.

Next is Sarah McCarry’s ABOUT A GIRL. Here I have reproduced the VOYA and SLJ reviews in full so you can read and compare them.

VOYA, August 2015 (Vol. 38, No. 3) – Erin Segreto

Throughout her life, self-proclaimed “square” genius and future astronomer Tally has struggled with the fact that she does not know who her father is, and having never met her own mother, she has very little to go on. Tally’s mother abandoned her with friends when she was just a baby, and the mysterious weave of her life is just now beginning to unravel. Her adoptive family has raised her with as much love as anyone could ask for, and her best friend, Shane, has been a long-time loyal companion. One day Shane shares the music of a forgotten artist with Tally, who realizes this man may hold the key to her family. Tally embarks on a quest to find her birth parents and instead falls in love with Maddy, a girl with a mysterious past and seemingly magical power over her. The more time she spends with Maddy, the more she realizes that the universe holds more enigmas than she ever imagined, and finding her parents is more strange, difficult, and dangerous the further she investigates. Based loosely on Jason and the Argonauts, About A Girl is the third book in McCarry’s Metamorphoses trilogy. It is a well-constructed story of mystery, adventure, and love. It is questionable whether the frequency of the sexual acts between Tally and Maddy are needed, as they contribute little to the pace or character development. Readers unfamiliar with Greek mythology may struggle with some of the references, but fans of modern interpretations of classic tales will enjoy this book, which can be read as a stand-alone title or part of the series. About A Girl is a valuable addition to any senior high school library. Reviewer: Erin Segreto; Ages 15 to 18.

School Library Journal

★ 06/01/2015

Gr 10 Up—The conclusion to the “Metamorphoses” trilogy (St. Martin’s) follows Tally to a small town outside of Seattle where she seeks out her maybe-father to learn more about her past and her family. The place feels full of magic and people who intrigue her. Tally has a hard time thinking straight here, and her dreams are filled with vivid and terrifying images of blood. She falls for the mysterious Maddy, a girl who seems to hold the answers to her many questions. Based loosely on the story of Jason and the Argonauts, the protagonist’s journey reveals far more about her family than she could have imagined. Maddy keeps saying “no pasts,” but as Tally learns, the past is everywhere—the past is then and now. The stunning, densely packed story is full of as much intoxicating poetry as meticulous scientific explanations. Tally’s initial prim and rather academic narration becomes richer and more dreamlike as her story unfolds. This edgy, smart, and challenging title combines mythology, punk rock, science, a quest, feminism, art, dreams, and the power of stories and storytelling with unforgettable results. The well-developed cast of characters is racially and sexually diverse. The emphasis on the importance of female relationships—as family, as lovers, and as friends—is a welcome exploration of the many levels of intimacy. The book can be read as a stand-alone, but will certainly send new readers looking for the previous books in the series. VERDICT A highly recommended and breathtakingly read for sophisticated readers.—Amanda MacGregor, formerly at Apollo High School Library, St. Cloud, MN

In this, the reviewer states, “It is questionable whether the frequency of the sexual acts between Tally and Maddy are needed, 
as they contribute little to the pace or character development of the story.”

First, please note that SLJ didn’t feel the need to mention 
these scenes at all in their review.

Second, please note that the VOYA review stating they are unnecessary and contribute little comes 
directly after the same reviewer states “It is a well-constructed story of mystery, adventure and love.”

These two statements seem to be
 mutually exclusive: if the scenes are excessive add nothing (and we can argue that positive portrayal of queer love is absolutely necessary for queer 
teen readers,) then the book can’t be well-constructed.

This is also a book in which there is heterosexual sex on the page, which is not singled out as unnecessary (or mentioned at all.) Queer intimacy is treated differently from the heterosexual intimacy, just as it was in VOYA’s review of Kody Keplinger’s RUN.

Now I move on to the reviews for Tess Sharpe’s FAR FROM YOU. Here, we have VOYA’s review, alongside Kirkus’ review for the same.

VOYA, June 2014 (Vol. 37, No. 2) – Mary Ann Darby

Seventeen-year-old Sophie Winters has just survived an attack by a masked man in the woods; her best friend, Mina, was not so lucky. When police decide that Mina’s murder is the result of a drug deal gone bad, fingers are pointed at Sophie. Sophie has been fighting an addiction to pain pills since an accident three years earlier, and although she has finally beaten the addiction, no one is willing to believe her. She is forced into rehab, and by the time she is released, people who were friends have turned their backs on her, including Mina’s brother, Trev. When Sophie starts digging for the truth, more layers of mystery are uncovered, with additional characters and elements introduced. The last chapters answer most of the story’s questions, including the true nature of Mina and Sophie’s relationship and why Mina was murdered. Although high school teens may well be hooked into the story’s murder mystery, which is introduced immediately, Sharpe’s first novel seems to have a bit of an identity crisis, taking on too many angles for a single story. Elements of a love story, a love triangle, drug dependency and recovery, as well as additional subplots of a mysterious disappearance and pregnancy, are a great deal to untangle cleanly. Throw in a series of flashbacks from very different times in Sophie’s life, and there are too many threads to weave smoothly. Themes and content make this most suitable for mature young adult readers. Reviewer: Mary Ann Darby; Ages 15 to 18.

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2014-02-12

This beautifully realized debut delves into the emotions of a girl recovering from drug addiction and grief, all wrapped up in a solid mystery. Sophie and Mina have been best friends since second grade. When they were 14, they were involved in a car accident that nearly killed Sophie, who became addicted to OxyContin during her recovery. Sophie has kicked her habit with the help of her bounty-hunter aunt and clings to each day that she stays clean. As the book opens, however, readers learn that Mina has been murdered. Since the murderer planted OxyContin in Sophie’s pocket, everyone, including Sophie’s mom and the police, believes that the girls were trying to buy drugs. Sophie knows the murderer will go free unless she uncovers a story that Mina was investigating for the local newspaper—but pursuing him will put her in grave danger. Sharpe writes in chapters alternating between scenes from the past and present as she moves the story forward. Within the mystery plot, she focuses mostly on Sophie’s battle against drugs and against those who refuse to believe her—and on an emotional secret the two girls shared. She doesn’t settle for simplistic, one-dimensional characters, giving each flaws and virtues, strengths and weaknesses, from Sophie’s parents to her friends. An absorbing story full of depth and emotion. (Mystery. 14-18)

This comparison of reviews is more subtle. They both do their best to protect the revelations at the end of this mystery, and by doing so
they both occlude the queer content.

VOYA’s review however, characterizes the discovery of “the true nature” of Mina and Sophie’s
 relationship, while Kirkus describes it as “an emotional secret the two girls shared.”

VOYA’s review underscores once more that queer 
relationships somehow fundamentally differ from heterosexual relationships. It defines Sophie and Mina by their orientation, rather than 
their relationship to each other as human beings.

VOYA explicitly states that themes and contents make this suitable for mature readers.
 Kirkus makes no such recommendation, and gives an age range of 14-18 rather than VOYA’s 15-18.

Finally, I am going to talk about Tim Federle’s THE GREAT AMERICAN WHATEVER.
 I have reproduced the VOYA review and the SLJ review here.

VOYA, February 2016 (Vol. 38, No. 6) – Christina C. Jones

Sixteen-year-old Quinn Roberts, aspiring screenwriter and closeted gay teen, has not returned to school since his older sister died in a tragic car accident last December. It is now summer, and Geoff, his best friend, is determined to get him out of the house. Quinn goes with Geoff to a college party where he is instantly attracted to Amir who later asks him out on a date. What follows is a fluid first-person narrative that shines with Quinn’s flippant humor and genuine teenage vulnerability. The narrative is interspersed with Quinn’s favorite movie moments and quotes, albeit somewhat obscure for today’s teens, and Quinn’s unique way of imagining moments of his life written as a screenplay. The reader cares not only for Quinn, but also for Geoff, who secretly dated Quinn’s sister before her death, and Quinn’s mother, an obese hoarder who was abandoned by her husband but who is loved dearly by her son. Quinn ultimately discovers, through a series of events—seeing Amir, talking with his childhood idol, a screenwriter who is in town on the set of his latest movie—that life is not like the movies, but it is worth living to the fullest. He is able to come out to Geoff and his mom, and he finally reads his sister’s last text message, the one she sent before her death. Quinn experiences sex for the first time with Amir in a somewhat glossed over sex scene. This is recommended for mature teens who want to be inspired. Reviewer: Christina C. Jones; Ages 15 to 18.

School Library Journal

★ 01/01/2016

Gr 10 Up—In the six months since his sister was killed in a car accident, Quinn has hardly left his bedroom. He hasn’t gone to school or talked to his best friend and has barely interacted with his heartbroken mother. He hasn’t turned on his phone, either, knowing the last text his sister sent before running a red light was to him. Urged on by his best friend, Geoff, Quinn reluctantly emerges from his isolation just in time to meet a cute boy, turn 17, rediscover his passion for writing screenplays, and uncover some big secrets about the people he thought he knew best. He also gets some advice from a former idol, a neighbor turned Hollywood screenwriter: forget the rules of what’s expected in a script and just write the truth. For Quinn, who seeks solace in his daydreamy scripts with imagined conversations and outcomes that he can control, this is a hard pill to swallow, especially as he’s learning some truths he’s not really sure he likes. Even under the weight of grief, Quinn’s conversational and charming narrative voice effervesces, mixing humor and vulnerability in typical Federle style. Quinn’s story is at turns sad, funny, awkward, and endearing as he figures out friendship, romance, coming out, and moving on. VERDICT Federle’s YA debut about life’s unscripted moments has wide appeal and is an essential purchase for all collections. Readers will be instant fans of the funny and honest Quinn.—Amanda MacGregor, Great River Regional Library, St. Cloud, MN

Both VOYA and SLJ give an overview of the plot, but you will notice that SLJ describes Quinn’s orientation and his attraction to Amir as one
 would any YA romance, citing daydreamy fantasy and language, and the personal connection between the characters.

VOYA on the other hand
focuses on Quinn’s being in the closet and on his coming out to his mother and to his best friend Geoff, as if they are required elements.

Then, the  VOYA reviewer notes “Quinn experiences sex for the first time with Amir in a somewhat glossed-over scene. This is recommended for
 mature teens who want to be inspired.”

There’s literally nothing in this review to indicate there is any mature content, except what they
 describe as a glossed-over sex scene. This single, gauzy scene is the only point that the reviewer enumerates that might make this book
 better for mature readers, but it’s interesting that Kirkus felt no need to centralize this scene at all.

Once again, it appears that the 
existence of a queer teen alone is enough for VOYA to offer a maturity level (because VOYA has not listed heterosexual scenes on the page for RUN or ABOUT A GIRL, so therefore, they do not appear to be mature content.)

All of these reviews are written
 by different people, so the argument can be made that they are individuals who don’t represent VOYA Magazine as a whole.

However, all of these reviews were read,
 evaluated, and edited by VOYA Magazine’s reviews editor, Lisa Frueh Kurdyla (with the possible exception of the ASH review, which was published in 2009; a year before E. L. Kurdyla publishing bought VOYA Magazine from Scarecrow Press.)

All of these reviews passed her desk, and she deemed them
publishable. She didn’t notice the implicit bias in any of them; she approved these reviews and VOYA Magazine published them.

You have told me that you detected no bias in VOYA reviews, but invited me to respond and trigger another investigation. Here, I have provided with you an initial investigation, along with explanations of the implicit bias in each review.

This pattern exists, and this is the reason that LGBTQIA+ specific, targeted sensitivity training for RoseMary Ludt and Lisa Frueh Kurdyla— and anyone else responsible at VOYA Magazine for vetting the content it publishes— is necessary.

Even if Ludt and Frueh-Kurdyla are absolutely progressive and without animus against LGBTQIA+ people, they do not recognize bias when they are editing, and they cannot edit effectively for biases they don’t even see.


I have written suggested sensitivity guidelines for reviewing books featuring LGBTQIA+ people and characters.
You may look at them here, and download the infographic that goes along with it.

Suggested LGBTQIA+ Sensitivity Guide for Reviewers of Children’s and Young Adult Books

People Are Not Mature Content Infographic

At the very least, I would hope that these sensitivity guidelines are incorporated by VOYA Magazine, disseminated to your reviewers, and kept on the forefront of VOYA Magazine’s mind when preparing and editing material that features LGBTQIA+ people in the future.

I address this to VOYA Magazine, and to its Editorial Board, in the hopes that VOYA Magazine will acknowledge the issues that exist, formulate an action plan to address past reviews and future ones, and rededicate itself to its own mission statement to be youth advocates for ALL young people.

Sincerely,

Saundra Mitchell