02/07/00 -- "Professionals" in Furry Fandom

You heard me mention Anthrocon yesterday, right?  Well, I'm still stuck on my furry kick right now, so just bear with me.  Right now, the thing that's blowing my mind is the way people in the furry community define professionals.   And how that differs from the way people in the grander scifi/fantasy/horror genre community define professionals.

I enjoy Anthrocon.  I don't want people to think I'm harshing on it, but it's the con I've got the most experience with, and I know that there isn't that much difference across the other furry cons.  And I've been to several others and seen the same things I saw at Anthrocon, so I'm not just blowing smoke.   That said, here's my rant... (Pardon me while I generalize.)

Furries have a really screwed up definition of "professional".  At mainstream genre cons (like MileHiCon and World Fantasy Con and Reader Con), the people on panels are professionals in their field.  They make money doing what they're talking about.  Most of them don't have another job on the side.  They are professional writers, or professional artists.  They are scientists who have studied biology or physics or chemistry.

As far as furries are concerned, a professional seems to be "anyone who does <X> better than me."  Or anyone who has had a piece of art or short story or poem published in a fanzine.  The people on panels are people who have never been heard of (for the most part) outside of the fandom.

I'm thinking more of writers, which may be my first mistake because furry fandom has a specific inclination toward visual arts, but that's where my strength is.  Writers (in this case, defined as people who write) in furry fandom seem to be distinctly unmotivated to do anything beyond write poorly crafted stories with characters who are essentially humans with ears, tails and muzzles attached to them.   They're content with their styles, don't want to get better, and don't have any ambition to be read beyond the fandom.  It breaks my head.

At the staff dinner post-con on Sunday at Anthrocon, I ended up bemoaning my inability to get a story published.  I don't remember if was a specific story, or if it was just stories in general.  But what was said, by someone across the table from me, just made me twitch.  The guy said, "Oh, give it to Silverfox.  If he'll publish my stories, he'll publish anything."

This seems to be the mentality of a lot of furry writers (and, in some cases, furry artists, too).  I just want to see it in print.  I don't care what appears with it.  I don't care who reads it.  I just want to be in print.  That'll make me a real writer.  I'm not sure that's what's really going through their heads, but that's what I thought when I heard that.  I couldn't imagine wanting to be in an anthology or fanzine whose editor has the reputation of publishing anything.  I want some quality surrounding me.   I want to be judged by standards higher than those I have and not found wanting.   I want to get better.  But that doesn't seem to be their concern.

Maybe I'm way off base.  Or maybe I'm too elitist.  But striving to get better seems to be what makes one a professional.  Striving to improve one's craft to the point that editors of professional magazines want it, and want it badly, is what makes one professional.  Not settling for giving it away to someone who has a reputation for publshing anything.

The writing panels at furry cons, however, seem to be populated by people with that attitude.  With the exception of the guest of honor, writing panels at furry cons have names that some people in the fandom recognize.  But no other professionals.  No one else who seems willing to push themselves beyond stories that will be read by 100 people (at most) and then forgotten.

I want to push myself.  I want to find out what makes my stories work when they work.  And what they need to work when they don't.  Maybe that does make me a little elitist.  Maybe it makes me silide into the realm of my art is better than your art.  And maybe I should stop being so judgemental.   It makes these people happy to see their stories in print no matter what else it appears with and no matter what the quality.  At one point, that might have been enough for me, too.

But it isn't anymore.