There are a few familiar ways to be a strong female character in science fiction and fantasy.
You can be a Xena or a Buffy or, more recently, an Arya or a Rey—a warrior who fights evil with laser swords or wooden stakes or daggers. Or you can follow the model of Chrisjen Avasarala, and turn to words, forward planning, and a deadly eye for the intricacies of societal maneuvering to save the day.
But sometimes, you don’t want to choose. Sometimes, as a reader, you want both.
In July 2019, artist Al Norton posted a digital painting of two characters from Ryohgo Narita’s Baccano! light novels. A young lady in military epaulettes holds another girl in a pink gown prisoner, sword placed intimately across her throat. They’re staring into each other’s eyes—one skittish, the other smug. “#wlw” read the caption—women loving women.
It lit a spark.
Now here we are, more than a year later. In many ways, the world is a different place. But as a queer woman, I maintain that there is something vital and triumphant in bringing an anthology like this—one that celebrates the diverse ways to be a strong, queer woman and still fight for what is right—into being.
It is not frivolous to take joy in being queer, in loving who we love. There is no one right way to be strong. In many ways, queer joy is a transgression, even today. Prominent creators think nothing of spouting transphobic views in public; Villanelle and Anne Lister may front popular television series, but mainstream comic book movies such as Wonder Woman still determinedly erase their characters’ canonical bisexuality. Fourteen years after Tara Maclay’s violent death as a queer woman on Buffy, CW’s The 100 merrily killed off its main character’s love interest Lexa shortly after a reconciliation, in an eerie echo of Whedon’s storyline.
The message is hard not to absorb: we are not safe. We, queer women, are at best distractions for the heroine, and at worst... well. At worst, we are the evil that tempts innocent mermaid girls into giving up their legs. We are the corruption.
I refuse to allow that message to take root in my heart. The only way to fight such stories is with more stories—different stories, from different perspectives, showing myriad ways to be women, and incandescent, and triumphant, and alive.
Inside these pages, you will find tales of humor and tales of romance, stories of smugglers and stories of dancers—you will find women wielding swords and magic and books and nothing but the power of their voice.
Above all, we hope to leave you with a joyful celebration that goes beyond the clichés of what it means to be strong while female, and while queer. Stories that allow those who choose not to wield weapons to be just as powerful, just as respected, as those who do.
Sometimes, the grumpy one can be soft for the sunshine one—sometimes, the warrior falls for the gentlewoman. And we think that’s wonderful.
Jennifer Mace
7 August 2020
Seattle, WA