Love and Solidarity

Waking up after the election I didn’t think I would be able to write. Not that day, for certain, and I feared I would never be able to write again. Every day of the next four years lined up like soldiers to stare me down and bully me into silence. The world was a fog and words made no sense.

For the first time, I wondered if writing was worth it.

Shouldn’t we drop the novel we’ve been laboring over? Drop the fantasy book we’re reading and pick up a political science text instead? Take to the streets as full-time organizers? When the president-elect seeks to erase every aspect of who you are—your sex, your gender, your sexuality, your race, your religion, your place of birth—how could writing be anything more than a luxury?

But I was thinking from fear and instability, not from love and the radical inclusivity I am lucky enough to have in my life through Luna Station Quarterly. Writers are needed now more than ever. Female writers. Writers of speculative fiction from all different backgrounds and experiences. Muslim women. Trans women. Non binary people. Women with disabilities. Women of color. Any intersectional combination thereof and any person who will be at risk under a Trump presidency. We need Luna Station Quarterly and all our networks of support now more than ever.

Our fight hasn’t changed. We still fight to erase the gender gap in publishing. We still fight for more female writers, queer writers, queer writers of color. We still fight for women to be recognized for the depth of their work and experience. We still fight so that female writers are seen and heard. The only difference under the president-elect is that our fight just got louder and more visible.  The more we write, the more we publicly exclaim that women’s stories matter. Women’s voices matter.

Speculative fiction is all about re-imagining the world. And yes, we can escape from reality if that’s what we need for a moment to heal ourselves. But we are also creators of reality, a reality we shape. When we imagine the world through our words, let every reader know how beautifully diverse that world is. Let every reader be devastated with a world that shuns love and embraces hatred and violence.

The Wednesday after the election felt like waking up into a dystopia. But what is dystopia but speculative fiction? This is our space! We write the next pages. We build each other up. We support our friends, our neighbors, our co-workers, strangers on the street. We spread love and radical inclusivity through our words.

Please don’t stop writing. Every sentence is a protest. Every sentence tells our president-elect all bigots who would seek to spread fear and hatred, that women will not be silenced and we will not let hatred and bigotry silence others.

In love and solidarity,

Cheryl Wollner