An LJ friend recently posted a piece titled Why I No Longer Support the Writers of the Future Contest.

I was a first place winner in Writers of the Future back in 1998. It was my first major short fiction sale. WotF paid me better than anyone else ever has for a short story. They also flew me out for a week-long workshop with folks like Algis Budrys and Dave Wolverton. It was a great experience, and I’m genuinely grateful for that.

When the subject of Scientology came up, we were told that the contest and its finances were completely separate from the church. That’s something I’ve repeated to other writers more than once.

I’m no longer certain this is true.

Frank Wu wrote about the financial connections between Scientology and Writers/Illustrators of the Future back in 2005. He also reproduced a letter he received in 2006 from Joni Labaqui, one of the contest administrators, who wrote:

You were actually wrong in that Scientology pays for the writers and illustrators awards. The Hubbard estate (which is not the church) makes so much money on royalties from his hundreds of published fiction it would make your head spin. You were right about the fact that every one of us who works at Author Services is a Scientologist, but the judges of the contest are not. They share the same goal that Mr. Hubbard did in starting and paying for this contest – to help the new guy…

I met Joni 13 years ago, and while I was rather overwhelmed that week, I remember her as a nice and hard-working person. I liked her.

In a similar vein, Jerry Pournelle (one of the WotF judges) writes:

I also don’t have to have an opinion about the Church of Scientology, because it doesn’t operate the Writers of the Future, and has no influence over who wins it. That much I can guarantee. The contest isn’t rigged. Algis Budrys wouldn’t have anything to do with it if there were the slightest chance of that. Nor would I.

I agree that it’s not rigged, and I’ve seen nothing to suggest otherwise. Does the church operate the contest, though? It looks like the “Writers of the Future” trademark was assigned to the Church of Scientific Technology (if I’m reading the records correctly). What does that mean? I’m honestly not certain … but it suggests to me that perhaps the wall of separation isn’t as solid as Pournelle believes.

I agree with John Scalzi’s post that Writers of the Future is not a Scientology recruitment scheme. I remember joining a few friends as a kid for a Christian camp. I felt more pressure to join that church than I ever did at Writers of the Future. While the WotF experience idolizes L. Ron Hubbard, there was no attempt to recruit me. However, I’ve spoken to one individual who did observe precisely that kind of high-pressure church recruitment tactic toward someone there for the contest at a WotF event.

A fair amount of the “Writers of the Future = Scientology!” writing out there is big on angry rhetoric and short on anything resembling facts, which is a little frustrating. (See this piece, for example.) I’m not trying to tell anyone what to believe. I’m just trying to gather what information I have to try to sort things out in my own mind. Some of the information comes from people who prefer to remain anonymous. All I’ll say is that I wouldn’t include their claims if I didn’t think they were reliable sources.

I was told by one such individual that for the church, the goal is not so much to help new writers, but to promote LRH and his brand. Particularly in schools and to kids, where they push the contest anthologies hard, hoping the books will serve as a gateway into Scientology. (This was presented not as conjecture, but as directly-overheard statements from multiple church members.)

None of this is meant to undermine the good things the contest does. The judges are, for the most part, amazing writers and people. Getting a walking tour of Hollywood from Tim Freaking Powers remains one of my favorite writing-related memories to this day. And I know that a lot of people involved with the contest, particularly some of the judges, are insistent about keeping the church separate from the contest.

But I no longer believe that Writers of the Future is entirely separate from Scientology.

I’m not saying everyone should run out and boycott the contest. But I’ve publicly praised Writers of the Future on many occasions, so I thought it was important to state this publicly as well.

I know the comments on this one have the potential to get messy, so let me preemptively ban some of the things I’ve seen on similar discussions elsewhere.

• “Scientologists are all ________.” Just like Catholics are all pedophiles and Mormons are all polygamists and so on? Don’t be an ass.
• “All religions are equally evil!” I’ll buy this as soon as you provide historical documentation on the Quaker Crusades.
• “Why are you picking on religion?” I’m pretty sure I’m not, thanks.
• “Aren’t there more important problems to worry about?” The Official Hierarchy of What We Can and Can’t Worry About pisses me off. Don’t go there.

With that said, discussion is welcome, as always. Just keep Wheaton’s Law in mind, ‘kay?

This is, at least indirectly, a follow-up to my post from a week or so back about trusting your gut.

I’m a pretty strong supporter of the idea of self-defense. I enrolled my daughter in karate years ago. (This is how I ended up taking it as well.) She eventually dropped out, but I hope she retained at least some of the basics: things like a willingness to be loud, fight back, and raise a fuss.

I love working with the kids in class, teaching them to throw punches while at the same time yelling things like, “No! You’re not my Dad! Stranger!” I love when can show someone that even though I might be physically stronger, there are some pretty straightforward things they can do to put me on the ground.

But I have a problem with … let’s call it a certain philosophy about self-defense, one best summed up by the phrase, “Don’t be a victim!” The assumption being that if you follow all of this training, then you’ll be safe … and as a direct corollary, if you’re assaulted, then it’s because you didn’t remember your training. I.e., it’s your own fault.

How often have we seen and heard that phrase? Don’t be a victim! Like it’s all about the victim’s choice. “Gosh, I’m bored and there’s nothing good on TV. Guess I’ll go get myself assaulted.” Why the hell do we so rarely see, “Don’t be a rapist!” or “Don’t be a batterer!”

There are certainly things you can do to affect your chances of being victimized. A stranger is more likely to target someone whose body language projects nervousness and insecurity than someone who projects confidence. Learning to trust your gut, like my daughter did in the previous post, can help you avoid or escape a bad situation. Physically working with someone else, learning what it’s like to take a hit, to punch and kick and throw, can cut down on that moment of paralysis when and if something happens. All of these are good things.

Yet the majority of rapes are committed, not by strangers, but by friends and family members. (73% of rapes against women, according to one 2005 study.) Another study finds that more than half of all violent crime occurs between non-strangers. Self-defense programs often do a great job talking about strangers; how many prepare you to fight off a boyfriend, a relative, or a coworker? (Some do, and that’s great … but it’s nowhere near as common, in my experience.)

Even the best self-defense techniques aren’t perfect. After working with countless rape survivors, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no guaranteed way to be safe. I’ve been told many times in Sanchin-Ryu that no matter how good you are, you’re going to get hit. There is no perfect defense. Likewise, as long as there are individuals determined to commit rape and assault, there is no way to guarantee you won’t be a victim.

The other problem is that the “Don’t be a victim!” approach tends to put most or all of the responsibility on the potential victims. We’ll send girls to learn self-defense, and voila, we’ve solved rape and domestic violence! As opposed to emphasizing things like bystander intervention, or just addressing the myths and assumptions that teach people (primarily men) that it’s okay to commit these crimes in the first place. It came up a lot when I was working at MSU. I’d talk to groups about rapes on campus, and the first — sometimes the only — suggestion would be for self-defense training for girls.

Does anyone else see a problem with making women responsible for fixing crimes committed primarily by men?

There’s got to be more. Even something as simple as trusting your gut has to go further. It can’t just be about a girl turning back because a stopped car looks wrong. It has to be about the guy at a party who sees a couple and notices that the girl looks uncomfortable. It’s about that guy trusting his own gut and actually stepping in to ask if everything’s all right. It’s about everyone at World Fantasy Con who saw the famed “creeper” harassing women but did nothing, ignoring their own gut feelings, because they assumed someone else would intervene.

I wouldn’t be continuing my study of karate if I didn’t believe in the things I’m learning and teaching there. But self-defense can’t be the only solution. Nor can we allow it to shift the responsibility from the perpetrators onto the victims.

Yesterday afternoon, my daughter was getting ready to walk home from a friend’s house. Her friend walked with her toward the end of the street. At this point, a blue car pulled to a stop up ahead. The driver didn’t get out; he simply watched them.

The girls turned around and went back to the driveway, where my daughter called me on her phone to let me know she would be late. As soon as she brought the phone to her ear, the car took off.

When she called, she started off by apologizing because she was supposed to be home by 5:00…

One of the most important lessons I hear in almost every kind of self-defense is to listen to your gut. If something feels wrong, trust that feeling.

That’s not something we tend to encourage in this culture. We’re pressured to just keep quiet and avoid raising a fuss (especially girls and women). We second-guess those gut feelings. We let friends and others push us into situations that feel wrong, and we stay in those situations because we’ve learned to be more afraid of the scorn, of being ostracized.

I told my daughter she had done exactly the right thing, and despite her protests that the car had left and it was only a few blocks to get home, I drove over to pick her up. (This also gave me the chance to talk to her friend’s Dad.)

Maybe the guy in the blue car was just lost. Maybe my daughter and her friend were perfectly safe the whole time. But in a situation like this, I don’t want to take that chance.

More importantly, when she feels like something’s not right, I want her to trust that feeling, and I want her to act on it.

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(Because I suspect someone will ask, yes, I did call the police and let them know what happened. There’s obviously not much they can do beyond keeping an eye out, but at least they’re aware.)