What we’re looking for at Tu: Mystery

For the first season, Tu Books focused on science fiction and fantasy. Now that Fall 2011 is acquired and in the midst of editing and production, we’re opening up our focus on genre fiction to include mysteries for children and young adults. Remember, we’re still looking for main characters of color, but the setting could be anywhere—or any when—in the world.

As always, please refer to our submission guidelines for details.

Booklists: Touchstone children’s/YA fantasy and science fiction

I’m working on my talk at the Ventura/Santa Barbara SCBWI Writers’ Day. In preparation for it, I’m doing a personal review of touchstone children’s and YA fantasy and science fiction titles from, say, the late Victorian period forward. Science fiction is tougher—I’m not going to cover pulp novels from the 30s or anything. Perhaps we might start with the 70s or 80s in SF (though I tossed Jules Verne and Robert Heinlein on the list because they do stand out—please advise me of others of similar caliber). I’m heading to the library tomorrow to grab a number of books, and trying to think if I’ve missed any.

Now, “fantasy” in children’s books has a pretty broad definition. I’m going to narrow the focus down to prose novels with human or humanoid main characters. That is, I’m not interested in animal stories (Redwall is awesome, but not the point of what I’m going for) or graphic novels or toy/doll stories (Winnie the Pooh, lovely as he is, doesn’t count here, though he does play into the whole British tradition; but no matter, that’s not what I’m looking for today). The Wind in the Willows is iffy–it’s anthropormorphized animals running around in frock coats and talking in British accents; for our purposes here today I’m going to say we’ll leave it off, though I reserve the right to change my mind later. Of course, so is Redwall (without the frock coats), so that helps make my decision in identifying their similarity.

I’m looking for books that a large number of readers would consider a touchstone—not obscure. “Touchstone,” as I’m using it here, is a title that’s either so popular practically everyone would probably have read it (like Harry Potter) and/or has great literary merit—something with great importance. Hence my list becomes more thin as it comes closer to the present day because I feel like we’re a little too close to those books to really be able to pick out that many books (right now) with lasting merit; those will manifest over time. But some do stand out, and I’ve included them.

Here’s my list. Anything you might add? Surely there are more pre-WWII era that I’m forgetting, and I’m sure I’m overlooking something obvious altogether. I’ve never (gasp) read Andre Norton, for example—hence my request on Twitter & FB for title suggestions—and could use some prompting about what her most memorable/important titles are.

Late Victorian Era (1850–1901)

  • The Water Babies, Charles Kingsley (1863)
  • The Light Princess, George MacDonald (1864)
  • A Journey to the Center of the Earth, Jules Verne (1864)
  • The Princess and the Goblin, George MacDonald (1872)
  • The Princess and Curdie, George MacDonald (1882)
  • Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Louis Carroll (1897)
  • Through the Looking-Glass, Louis Carroll (1897)
  • The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum (1900)—its sequels cross my arbitrary dateline of 1901, which is the end of the Victorian era because that’s when Queen Victoria died

Pre-World War II (1901–1940)

  • Five Children and It, E. Nesbit (1902)
  • Peter and Wendy (or Peter Pan), J.M. Barrie (1911)
  • Mary Poppins, P.L. Travers (1934)
  • The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien (1937)

Post-World War II, including Vietnam Era (1940s—early 1970s)

  • Bedknob and Broomstick, Mary Norton (1943 & 1946)
  • The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, C.S. Lewis (1950) and of course its sequels
  • The Borrowers, Mary Norton (1952)
  • The Children of Green Knowe, Lucy M. Boston (1954) and its sequels
  • Half Magic, Edward Eager (1954)
  • The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien (1955) and The Two Towers and Return of the King
  • Have Spacesuit, Will Travel, Robert Heinlein (1958) and other Heinlein juveniles
  • James and the Giant Peach, Roald Dahl (1961)
  • A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L’Engle (1962)
  • Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl (1964) and Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator (1972)
  • The Book of Three, Lloyd Alexander (1964) and its sequels, especially The Black Cauldron (1965)
  • The Dark is Rising series, Susan Cooper (1965-1970s): Over Sea, Under Stone (1965), The Dark Is Rising (1973), Greenwitch (1974), The Grey King (1975), Silver on the Tree (1977)
  • Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey (1968)
  • A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin (1968)
  • The Perilous Gard, Elizabeth Pope (1974)

Gen Xers’/Millennials’ growing-up years (late 1970s–2001)

  • Tuck Everlasting, Natalie Babbitt (1975)
  • Dragonsong, Anne McCaffrey (1976)
  • Chrestomanci Chronicles, Diana Wynne Jones (1977–2006, with perhaps more to come? DWJ is seriously ill, so it depends on her health)
  • Beauty, by Robin McKinley (1978)
  • The Blue Sword, Robin McKinley (1982)
  • Alana: The First Adventure, Tamora Pierce (1983) and its sequels
  • The Magical Adventures of Pretty Pearl, Virginia Hamilton (1983)
  • The Witches, Roald Dahl (1983)
  • The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley (1984)
  • Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card (1985)
  • The Hounds of the Morrigan, Pat O’Shea (1985)
  • Howl’s Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones (1986)
  • The Devil’s Arithmetic, Jane Yolen (1988)
  • Matilda, Roald Dahl (1988)
  • Dealing with Dragons, Patricia C. Wrede (1990) and its sequels
  • The Giver, Lois Lowry (1993)
  • The Ear, the Eye, and the Arm, Nancy Farmer (1994)
  • Sabriel, Garth Nix (1995), and Lirael (2001) and Abhorsen, its sequels
  • The Golden Compass, Philip Pullman (1995) and its sequels
  • Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling (1997) and its sequels (though that also cuts across past Sept. 11th)
  • Ella Enchanted, Gail Carson Levine (1997)
  • The Folk Keeper, Franny Billingsley (1999)

Post-September 11th (2002–present)

  • Harry Potter sequels, J.K. Rowling
  • Feed, M.T. Anderson (2002)
  • The House of the Scorpion, Nancy Farmer (2002)
  • The Spiderwick Chronicles, Holly Black & Tony DiTerlizzi (2003)
  • The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins (2008)


A Is for Anansi, NY Comic Con, and TANKBORN

Last weekend I went to the excellent A Is for Anansi conference at NYU, and met a lot of thoughtful people who want to make the world a better place for African American kids. I took a lot of notes and would like to share them at some point, but I’m in the midst of finishing an edit and have only popped online, so I’ll have to do it some other time. In the meantime, Hannah in Lee & Low’s marketing department took some great notes that she shares here.

I cut out from that conference a little early to pop by New York Comic Con over at the Javitz Center, and the best way I can find to describe it is CROWDED. Apparently something like 90,000 people went over the course of the weekend, but I believe most of them were there Saturday between 1 and 4. Got to see my friends Brandon and Emily Sanderson for a few minutes while Brandon was signing books in the midst of a madhouse (we caught up later in less crowded circumstances), wandered around the significantly less-crowded Artist Alley for a while, said hi to some old Wizards of the Coast coworkers at the Wizards booth, and then the crowds got to me and I made my escape. It helped that I was also in the midst of a Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood marathon on Hulu at home, and watching that sounded much more appealing than shoving through crowds and not really seeing anything. I took my camera with me to take pictures of the costumes—and there were some really good ones—but there wasn’t any room to get a good candid shot, so I didn’t bother. Sorry–blog posts are always more fun with pictures. (I’ve taken a number of pictures lately, but haven’t had the time to actually upload them online.)

Thirdly, and BEST of all, I can finally announce our third acquisition at Tu Books, making our third book and rounding out the Fall 2011 season! As reported in PW Children’s Bookshelf yesterday:

Stacy Whitman at Lee & Low Books bought North American rights to Tankborn by Karen Sandler, for publication in fall 2011 as part of the Tu Books imprint launch list. The dystopian YA title is about best friends Kayla and Mishalla, genetically engineered slaves on the planet Loka, whose developing friendships with higher-status boys lead them to question the strict caste system of their world. Sandler has written more than 17 adult romance titles; this is her first YA. Lindsay Ribar and Matt Bialer at Sanford J. Greenburger Associates brokered the deal.

I’m SO EXCITED. The lineup for Tu for Fall 2011 is going to be awesome. We’ve got a YA paranormal thriller (I call it Burn Notice with werewolves), a middle grade space adventure (Olympics in space), and a YA dystopian with two main characters you’re going to love. As time goes on, I’ll be able to tell you more about Wolf Mark, Galaxy Games, and Tankborn; for now, the teasers will have to suffice!

Speaking of which, as I said, I’m in the midst of an edit that I’m trying to get back to the author before I leave for the weekend. Have a good one!

Reader question: What’s an imprint?

Ingrid writes to ask:

How exactly does an imprint of a publishing company work? Are imprints more specific in subject matter or is there a deeper connection with the parent company?

Are your chances of getting published better with an imprint or does the sale of your work do better with a more well-known publisher?

I would like to submit my manuscript to a smaller company because I think that they will “get” my writing style, but this company is an imprint of a bigger one. Is it safer to submit to the parent company and hope for the best or will an imprint be more helpful and “reachable?”

First off, let’s distinguish between a smaller company and an imprint. Big and small publishers will both have imprints. You may have an advantage getting published with a smaller press because they’ll often be able to give more personalized attention from the editorial stage on through production and promotion—though that can depend, too. I’ll get to small publisher vs. large publisher in another post. First, what is an imprint?

An imprint is publishing speak for a brand. It’s usually not a separate company from the parent publisher; rather, it’s a way to divide books within the publisher that might just be on paper (editors and other staff might work across imprints; the books are simply branded differently depending on genre or audience) or might be a fiscal division of the company, depending on the size of the company and the way it’s organized.

For example, MacMillan reorganized last year so that all their children’s imprints (FSG, Feiwel and Friends, Holt, etc.) are in one division of the company, MacMillan Children’s Publishing Group. Now, I don’t know the company well enough to know whether the editorial for each imprint is divided into different departments underneath the group (I imagine so—the articles I’ve read mention that they’ll share art departments and production resources), but certain editors only work on Feiwel and Friends, and others only work on FSG. At least, that’s how I understand it as an outsider to the company—some editors could be working across imprints, the way that Sharyn November works on both Viking and Firebird books at Penguin. It just depends on how the company structures itself.

When I worked at Wizards of the Coast, I only worked on Mirrorstone books, not any of the adult novels, and not any of the game books (such as Dungeons and Dragons rule books). Mirrorstone was the imprint I worked on, but Wizards of the Coast was the company I worked for, which was itself a division of Hasbro, the toy and game company. There were departmental lines between the novels and the games (at least at first; this changed, as corporations are wont to do), and within the novels lines, editors were assigned to particular imprints. When the now-defunct Discoveries imprint was launching, all the adult editors worked on Discoveries as well as their own Wizards-imprint books, but Mirrorstone editors worked only on Mirrorstone. Here at Lee & Low, I only work on Tu’s books, and the other editors only work on Lee & Low books, not Tu.

Editors will pass manuscripts over to editors at other imprints within the company if something has been misdirected to us, but we prefer that a book be directed to the right imprint. Hence, if your manuscript fits a particular imprint, it’s best to submit to that imprint—if they take unsolicited submissions. Most of the bigger companies don’t take unsolicited submissions, and if the larger company doesn’t, usually the imprint doesn’t. Check their submission guidelines, which are usually linked on company websites. You also might poke around on Google, blogs, and Twitter to see which editors work for which imprints; if the individual editor has submission guidelines, you can then figure out whether your book might be directed to that particular editor. If the editor doesn’t post submission guidelines or specifically says they’re not open to unsolicited submissions, you’ll need an agent to submit to them.

As far as acceptance goes, the little imprints at bigger companies can be more selective than general submissions at the parent publisher, depending on what the imprint focuses on. A more literary imprint, for example, will cull “commercial”-feeling manuscripts. A science fiction and fantasy imprint will cull manuscripts that have no speculative nature to them. I run into this a lot—people will hear “multicultural fantasy for children & young adults” and only hear “multicultural” or “fantasy,” not both. A lot of the manuscripts I receive don’t hit the specific niche I’m working to fill, and so they’re automatic no’s. So unless you are sure that your manuscript definitely fits everything an imprint is looking for—AND you’ve checked whether they accept unsolicited submissions—it’s best to find either another imprint/publisher to submit to or find an agent, who can help you in targeting your manuscript to the right editors within a closed house.

The best chance of being published—whether with a big company or a small one, with the parent publisher imprint or a small imprint—is to write a good book that fits what they’re looking for. If a publisher only does picture books, they’re not going to want to see a YA novel, and vice versa.

But it sounds like you’ve looked at the books they publish and think that their sensibility is the right fit. The next step—after polishing your manuscript to perfection, of course—is to simply submit to them, if they’re open to unsolicited submissions, and see what happens. Publishing isn’t a crap shoot—your best chance at getting published is to submit widely after finding a list of publishers that your manuscript fits. Once you start getting bites, that’s the time to get down to brass tacks about which one will have better marketing, better distribution, which one has the editor you want to work with, and so forth.

The same goes for agents. Don’t just submit to your one “dream agent.” I’m not convinced there is such a thing in abstract, before you’ve started querying and talking to those who are interested in your work. Once you start getting deeper in the process, a lot of clues will come up in the interaction to help you decide if that’s the right direction to go. If you have the rare advantage of choosing between actual offers from a large publisher, another large publisher’s prestigious imprint, and a small publisher, that’s when you start looking at each company’s track record in sales, distribution, marketing, public relations, and so forth. Until that time comes, though, cast a wide net.

The question about sales I’ll leave for another post, because that gets back as well to the advantages and disadvantages of going with small presses vs. large companies, complicated by the imprint question. I’ll try to address that later this week.

Ursula K. Le Guin: “Why Are Americans Afraid of Dragons?”

I’ve been reading Ursula Le Guin’s collection of essays, The Language of the Night, and found her 1974 essay “Why Are Americans Afraid of Dragons?” just as relevant today as it ever was back then. In our post-Harry Potter world, perhaps we’re a little less afraid of fantasy as a culture, but her point remains cogent, given the backlash against Harry Potter and his ilk, too. Here’s an excerpt:

For fantasy is true, of course. It isn’t factual, but it is true. Children know that. Adults know it too, and that is precisely why many of them are afraid of fantasy. They know that its truth challenges, even threatens, all that is false, all that is phony, unnecessary, and trivial in the life they have let themselves be forced into living. They are afraid of dragons, because they are afraid of freedom.

This freedom she speaks of is that of the imagination, the ability to believe in things you know not to be real:

So I believe that we should trust our children. Normal children do not confuse reality and fantasy—they confuse them much less often than we adults do (as a certain great fantasist pointed out in a story called “The Emperor’s New Clothes”). Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren’t real, but they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books. All too often, that’s more than Mummy and Daddy know; for, in denying their childhood, the adults have denied half their knowledge, and are left with the sad, sterile little fact: “Unicorns aren’t real.” And that fact is one that never got anybody anywhere (except in the story “The Unicorn in the Garden,” by another great fantasist, in which it is shown that a devotion to the unreality of unicorns may get you straight into the loony bin). It is by such statements as, “Once upon a time there was a dragon,” or “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit”—it is by such beautiful non-facts that we fantastic human beings may arrive, in our peculiar fashion, at the truth.

Unfortunately, the essay isn’t online to link to the rest of it, but do look up The Language of the Night at your local library (it doesn’t appear to still be in print, but used copies are going for anywhere from 75 cents on Half.com to $151 on Amazon). I’m still working my way through—each essay is fascinating. Working my way up to “American SF and the Other,” which is the reason I checked the book out from the library.

ETA: A blogger whose post on this essay is one of the top Google results posted the results of a Q & A with Le Guin last year that addresses her thoughts on where we are today.

Willow, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways

I’m rewatching a comfort movie from my childhood again, a huge favorite: Willow. Warning: POSSIBLE SPOILERS. Sure, the movie’s 22 years old, but I’m sure there are those who haven’t seen it yet.

There’s so much to love about this movie. So I thought I’d really count the ways, because I want to share, and enumerating them via Twitter just doesn’t work as well as a bulleted list.

  • Uses old fantasy tropes like farm-boy-goes-on-quest in new, interesting ways. This farm boy is not a hidden prince, but a father and husband who’s well-established in his life, and knows where he comes from.
  • Said father is a nurturing figure in the movie–he takes care of the baby competently the whole way through. Nice change from the big manly heroes who always save the day through brawn—though of course we get that in Madmartigan.
  • “Ignore the bird. Follow the river!”
  • The brownies are a great use of perspective, blue screen, and editing to make it seem like they’re actually tiny people (well, for 1988 technology). And who can’t love lines like “I stole da babyyyy!”
  • Madmartigan. Everything about him. His mysterious past, his roguish nature. His complete inability to possess tact.
  • “Temptiiiing… but, NO!”
  • “Gentlemen? Meet Lug!”
  • The diversity of characters in both the daichini (daikini?) and nelwyn people is refreshing in a genre that sometimes (not always, but too often) forgets that not all elves or dwarves are exactly the same.
  • Drunk brownies falling in love with kitties
  • Mouse hats
  • Chase scenes galore! Including one that plays on the old cartoon trope of rolling down a snow-covered hill (after a great sled chase scene!) and turning into a giant snowball.
  • The fact that until today when I looked it up on IMDB—i.e., for 22 years—I’ve thought that Madmartigan’s name was Mad Martigan, because everyone thought he was mad.
  • Blackroot. “Puts hair on your chest!”—just what a baby girl wants!
  • Okay, so the final fight scene with the two-headed monster is a bit odd. But Fin Raizel definitely makes up for it!
  • “Willll-loow! YOU IDIOT!”–Fin Raizel, as a goat
  • Fin Raizel as a sugar glider, or just about any animal, for that matter
  • A love potion gone wrong that helps a strong female character realize she’s fighting for the wrong team
  • Sorsha kicking Madmartigan in the face
  • The sets! Oh, the beautiful sets!
  • The costumes! Oh the beautiful costumes!
  • Except: What is UP with General Kael’s skull mask?
  • “It went away? ‘I dwell in darkness without you’ and it went away??”
  • I also just realized (how many times have I watched this movie? at least twice a year for many, many years) that the people at Tiras Lee were turned to stone or encased in crystal or something. It’s so quick and not terribly clear—all these years I thought they were just stones Madmartigan was waving at.
  • Madmartigan thinking he’s so scary when everyone runs at Tir Aislean, when it’s really a two-headed fire-breathing used-to-be-a-troll creature.
  • Why does the music (final fight scene) keep make me expect Sloth the come swinging in on a rope, yelling, “HEY YOU GUUUYS!”?
  • Oh yeah, this isn’t the final fight scene. We still have to face off with Bavmorda.
  • “You’re not warriors! You’re pigs! You’re allll pigs!
  • Oh, I’m sure I’ll remember more as the movie plays on.

What about you? Is Willow a favorite? What do you love about it? What other fantasy movies are your oft-returned-to favorites?

Pre-Robert Jordan epic fantasy book list

I’ve had several topics I’ve been meaning to post on, but I’m afraid this week has been a little busy, filled with good things like editing in-process books, talking with designers, finishing reads on a couple manuscripts, and a couple of editorial letters, just to name a few things. As I tweeted earlier this week, watching me do such things—either through me discussing them here, or actually watching me in person—would rather be like watching paint dry. Not a whole lot of entertainment.

But now this weekend I’m starting to work on my talk for the Venture/Santa Barbara SCBWI at the end of October, the title of which is Beyond Orcs and Elves: Diversity in Fantasy and Science Fiction. My focus, of course, will be on fantasy for children and young adults, but as part of the discussion I’ll be talking about working on Dragonlance: The New Adventures during my time at Wizards of the Coast, and the huge body of work of epic fantasy that those books drew upon (not to mention hundreds of game manuals).

So, I figured it’s time for another book list. This is a very specific one: I’m looking for a list of PRE-Robert Jordan epic fantasy that appealed to teenagers, whether published for them or not. So that includes Dragonlance Chronicles, which was published for adults, but it also includes Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown, published for young readers. (I’m not sure if the latter two were published for teens or children, but I believe it was teens. I could be wrong.)

What do you all think? Remember, I want pre-Robert Jordan. The Eye of the World came out in 1990, so we’re talking the 15 or so years before that, because Robert Jordan really changed a LOT of things in epic fantasy, inspiring a lot of epic fantasists working today both in adult and children’s. I’m looking for the “before” shot. (It’s not really a before-after—more like a before-after-after-after, but you get the idea.)

To get us started, I’ll just list a few authors (I will come back tomorrow when it’s not after midnight and flesh out the list with specific books):

Robin McKinley

Tamora Pierce

Terry Brooks

Piers Anthony

Lloyd Alexander

Susan Cooper

Anne McCaffrey

David Eddings

Then there are the obvious precursors to these fantasists, including Tolkien and Lewis. But any other suggestions to fill out the 70s-80s list? I’m as likely as not to know the books, so please feel free to suggest either an author’s whole body of work, or specific books.

Announcing two books for Tu Books

It’s official! We’ve acquired our first books, and are pushing forward toward more. Hence the reason I’ve had to be so quiet around here–nothing I could talk about until the ink was dry. But now that it’s all settled, I’m happy to say that we have some really awesome books coming out next fall. Here’s the announcement we sent out:

Stacy Whitman at Lee & Low Books has acquired the first novels for the Tu Books imprint, which launches in fall 2011. The imprint will focus on multicultural MG/YA science fiction and fantasy. For the launch list, Whitman has acquired World rights to a YA paranormal thriller tentatively titled Wolf Mark by Joseph Bruchac, author of Codetalker and Skeleton Man. When Lucas King’s black-ops father is kidnapped and his best friend, Meena, put in danger, Lucas’s only chance to save them is hidden away in an abandoned, monster-guarded mansion.  The deal was done by Barbara Kouts of the Barbara S. Kouts Agency.

Whitman has also bought world rights to Galaxy Games by Greg Fishbone, a MG science fiction trilogy about an incoming asteroid that turns out to be an alien spaceship, visiting Earth to recruit a team of kid athletes to compete in the upcoming Galaxy Games Tournament. The first book, tentatively titled Preliminaries, will be published as part of the Tu Books launch list in fall 2011. The three-book deal was completed by Garrett Hicks of Will Entertainment.

ETA: Just a reminder: If you think these books sound awesome, remember to follow @tubooks (or on FB: http://bit.ly/4vsAbz) for more Tu Books news. We’ll also be sharing this news on the Lee & Low official blog tomorrow.

Toph: “Supercrip” stereotype or well-rounded disabled character?

I just today read this post on disabled people (or, if you prefer, people who happen to be disabled)—particularly regarding creation of characters—over at the Rejectionist, so being a little late and interested in continuing the discussion focusing on a specific character, I am turning my potential comment into a blog post instead.

Rachel notes that the “Supercrip” character stereotype is “the most pervasive and most cherished in the Able-bodied Narrative.” What was that relatively recent book made into a movie in which a kid with spina bifida (or was it cerebral palsy?) joins up with his able-bodied friend/nemesis with a mental disability to imagine that they’re both superheroes, but ends up with at least one if not both dead because they get beat up? (Forgive me if I mangled that plot—I got so annoyed by the emotional manipulation that I stopped paying attention; I must have been watching it in a location where I couldn’t just turn it off, like at a relative’s house or something.)  Then there’s A Beautiful Mind, which I can’t judge well because I refused to see it because it appeared to portray a schizophrenic curing himself—another trope Rachel discusses, looking for the cure. (My mother is schizophrenic. Sorry, it’s not curable.) It isn’t enough that the guy is a mathematician who happens to have schizophrenia. No, it makes him one of the best mathematicians in the world! It’s all so inspiring! (gag) Tell me if I’m wrong, because like I said, I avoided it it due to perceived possible emotional manipulation.

As Rachel says,

Supercrip is the “inspiring” and “amazing” disabled person who has “suffered” and “overcome” the “terrible limitations” of disability. Bitch magazine explains it thus:

Supercrip provides a way for non-disabled folks to be “inspired” by persons with disabilities without actually questioning—or making changes to—how persons with disabilities are treated in society…. Supercrip cannot just be human; she or he must be superhuman and surpass not only her/his disability, but the realms of “normal” human achievement. Supercrip allows some non-disabled folks to feel better about themselves; this is quite evident when it comes to statements like, “What an inspiration!”

In fiction, particularly fantasy, the Supercrip trope is interpreted in its literal sense—the disabled superhero, a la Daredevil, a blind man with super-sensitive hearing and touch that completely negated the effects his blindness and therefore of his experience as a blind man. It is a form of fixing and normalizes disability by rendering actual conflicts and difficulties of being disabled as irrelevant.

Which makes me wonder where Toph in Avatar: The Last Airbender fits in to this paradigm.  I don’t see Toph in the same way that I see those emotionally manipulative stories. Toph may be “making up” for her blindness via Earthbending, yet it’s not really the same thing … is it? Sure, she can “see” with her feet, but it’s a much different kind of seeing. She still can’t do some things her companions can, like read. (Because, duh, she’s blind, as she so matter-of-factly reminds them.) Being blind is simply a part of who she is as a well-rounded character. She’s not *more* awesome than everyone else (though she’s still VERY awesome)—she’s just who she is, a smart, capable girl who happens to be one of the best Earthbenders in the world (hence, my wondering: stereotype?), who discovers metalbending, who grows emotionally as a character (as does everyone in the group), and who is one of several essential people who will help the Avatar save the world.

It makes me wonder how a fantasy hero with a disability might be portrayed without playing into the Supercrip stereotype; after all, one of the main tropes of fantasy protagonists is that the reason they’re the protagonist is that they stand out in a crowd, whatever their unique talent is. It makes me wonder if it’s simply that their disability doesn’t need to be replaced with a magical ability (i.e., their disability doesn’t compensate for the “loss” of whatever ability an able-bodied person might possess), or if there’s something I’m missing, as a mostly-able-bodied person who doesn’t always get it.

How about Professor X? His disability (being unable to walk) doesn’t affect whether or not he can use his mental powers to speak in others’ minds or read their minds. It’s not a direct compensation for abilities lost—Jean Grey has the same powers and is able-bodied. And for that matter, if you’ve seen (spoilers!) The Book of Eli, in which a disabled character is a major part of the plot, there’s a huge possibility of the stereotype interpretation.

I’d really like to parse this out, because it’s important to me that people of all kinds are portrayed in the fiction I edit, and I’d like to be sure to watch out for stereotypes, but in the case of fantasy and science fiction—as opposed to realism, in which I find many more of the “inspiring” Supercrip stories using Rachel’s definition—it seems important for many (not all) protagonists to have special powers, whether able-bodied or not.

What’s your opinion? Would Toph be considered a Supercrip? How might Toph be made better as a character, within the bounds of the Avatar world, but not as a Supercrip, if you might consider her one?