Sex in terms of male or female, my friends (usually now called the inaccurate ‘gender’). This entry is about how the author’s sex/gender influences reading decisions.
I reviewed Of Bees and Mist earlier this week (I was a little disappointed). I picked this book up based on the first few pages, the presence of leading female characters, and a bit of a whim. When I got it home, I realised the author’s name was EricK, not EricA and I have to admit that my heart sank and that I would not have bought it had I noticed that it was written by a man, not a woman.
The reason for that is simple: I generally don’t think male authors do a good job portraying woman as actual people rather than as stereotypes of their ideal or nightmare, and this particular book focuses on three main female characters. In fact, I probably misread the name entirely because it was a book about women, and, naughty me, I assumed the author too would be female.
Kudos to Setiawan — the book wasn’t my cup of tea, but I didn’t have to waste time rolling my eyes at his characterisations (partly because the style of the book lent itself to somewhat less than full-bodied characters anyway — not a criticism, just an observation of this style of book). I did think, as I said in the review, that the male lead in that book did not deserve the ending he got, and that could be because the author was male and thought he did…
But the point is that I have this tremendous bias — I like to read books with female leads, but not if they’re written by men. On the other hand, male leads written by women, I have no problem with. I don’t feel too bad about this, as it’s no worse than the fact that men notoriously tend not to read books by or about women whereas women tend to be perfectly happy to read books by or about men. The example from my little world is Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures… — by a man, about two male leads, and I utterly adored it.
I do feel bad only in that I recognise that I’m wrong in this bias. I’ve read plenty of books by men that do a decent job at creating complex female characters that don’t fall into the angel/whore dichotomy (or the ballbreaker/wants-100-children dichotomy or the nice-girl/bitch dichotomy and so on ad nauseum).
I’ve also read plenty of books by women that are just as narrow in their outlook of what women are or want or need as something written by a man (yes, I know it’s a joke book and so does the webcomic writer. It still has that same old underlying message that women don’t really enjoy sex).
And if you want an example of a man doing a terrible job even though his wife is helping him write the series, you can’t really go past fantasy writer David Eddings, who seemed incapable of creating female characters not based on his apparently wonderfully wise wife or his apparently snotty-as-all-get-out teenage daughter. When I found out his wife had helped him, my first thought was, why aren’t his female characters more diverse then?.
Note: I’m sure there’s plenty of authors of either sex who do a terrible job writing men. I can’t judge this, all I can say is that the characterisation didn’t work for me or rang false somehow. Generally, if an author can’t capture the way a person, male or female, thinks or their motivations in an authentically human way, their portrayal of male AND female characters is going to be off. Authors that limit their female characters will probably limit their male characters too. (ie David Eddings’s male characters weren’t all that diverse either, he was just applying a slightly wider range of archetypes…)
Even knowing I’m wrong, I still hesitate when seeing a male name on a certain type of book; since I read a lot in the fantasy genre, I recoil especially from fantasy books with female leads but male authors. I try not to have this reaction, though often I don’t even notice that I do (as above, where I only realised my bias when I saw I’d misread the author’s name). I try not to judge a book by its cover — and that includes the sex of the name on the cover.
What about you? Do you pay attention to the sex of the author? Are you more or less likely to choose a book when the author is male or when she’s female?

As much as I enjoyed the story, I thought Memoirs of a Geisha would have been better written by a woman. Preferably a Japanese woman but hey, they had their chance!
On a bit of a tangent, it’s interesting what you say about the book you read in which the man didn’t get the ending he deserved. I’ve written a few short stories recently in which the characters certainly didn’t get what they deserved – in acknowledgement of the fact that in fiction, and in life, not everyone does get his comeuppance. Some members of my critique group really recoiled and I learnt something valuable about fiction: if characters don’t get what they deserve, a certain proportion of your readers are not going to feel satisfied with the story. Here I was thinking I was making a point!
I haven’t noticed any male-female author prejudices in my own tastes but I’ll start looking out for them now. That’s not to say I’m unprejudiced. I am. I absolutely detest weak female leads in books, movies and computer games. Yet there are weak women in the world…
I agree re Memoirs — better by a woman. It read quite flat to me, and I think a female perspective (and as you say, especially a Japanese one) might have helped me sink more into the story.
I’m sure many readers would think the male lead did deserve his ending (I’m being deliberately ambiguous about whether it was a good ending or a bad ending as I don’t want to spoil the book for others). I just have strong views on the matter…
Ah, well, you never can control reader reaction/satisfaction. Sometimes it’s better if they’re not satisfied, because it leaves them thinking about it longer (eg me and The Magicians, which had an unsatisfactory-to-me ending and left me thinking about it for days).
Your comment about hating weak women in books (me too) even though they exist in real life reminds me of Babylon 5. The writers got a lot of flak for introducing a rather wishy-washy female character late in the series, which rather unfairly overlooked the number of strong female character in the series, and also the fact that, yes, as with strong and weak men, strong and weak women exist too.
I think the important thing is that whatever character is not weak in every possible way. Everyone has strengths to go along with her or his weaknesses. So maybe the portrayal of weak women is so infuriating in fiction because it’s just too simplistic (as well as being kind of cliched and dull).
“…the fact that men notoriously tend not to read books by or about women…”
Hi Wendy
Until recently, I thought the same thing. I’ve been surprised (pleasantly) by the number of positive reviews I’ve received from male readers for my novels, which all feature female protagonists. More reviews than from female readers. Goes to show you never can tell.
Cheers
Vicki
I pay little attention to the gender of the author especially an unknown (to me) author since men publish w/ female pen names and women publish w/ male pen names so frequently.
Good point, Pussreboots!
Vicki — that’s great. There’s plenty of stats that say men don’t read “female” books (or don’t read at all…), and there’s always readers to prove the stats wrong. I think tastes are broadening out past the men-read-westerns, women-read-romances stereotypes anyway.
Very good point, pussreboots, I never think about whether the name might be a pseudonym. Except when I read Lies of Locke Lamora and decided it must really be a woman writing under a man’s name because the relationship between Locke and Jean was so well-portrayed and I didn’t think a man could have done it (there’s that bias again! Goes deeper than I thought!)
I should point out I read plenty of male authors, pay little attention to the name, and have never not read a book just because the author is male … it’s just that I seem to have fallen into the habit of checking the author if the lead character(s) is/are female, and then having a bit of a pause if it is a male author/female lead combo.
If you have a bias I don’t think you should feel bad about it. Of course most writers and publishers wouldn’t want people to have a bias because it limits their readership but everyone knows this bias exists which is why some authors disguise their gender by various means. As a reader I have many biases because I’m trying to filter out the novels I probably won’t enjoy. On the other hand I read very widely because I don’t want to miss anything that might possibly give me that elusive special thrill.
I don’t mind having biases that help me filter (so many books, more being published every day, no possible way to keep up), because they’re really just preferences; and/or they’re informed by having tried that author or style before.
But I don’t like the thought of having a bias that might cause me to dismiss a book I would have loved – that special elusive thrill, as you say. I don’t think it’s happened yet…and hopefully won’t now I’ve caught myself.
I’m not totally sure if we’re talking about stereotypes or reader biases or what exactly. All of the above?
I’m sometimes dismayed by anti-stereotyping which just leads to a new cliche. The heroine is beautiful *and* brilliant *and* buttkicking. She can change a tire or slay a demon, but she’s helpless in a kitchen (microwaves frozen food every night). Her only weakness is her irresistible passion for [insert implausibly sexy creature of the night].
There’s shelf after shelf of this stuff. It has become tiresome to me, and IME women are more likely than men to write it.
That doesn’t bias me in favor of male writers, though, because there are plenty of women writing about characters with a smidgen of nuance. It’s that particular sub-sub-genre which gets on my nerves. It’s reached the point where I put down any book on which the cover copy describes the love interest as sexy or gorgeous or similar. I just can’t take any more. I’d rather read about a fainting flower than about yet another woman whose only imperfection is that she’s ruled by what a 13-year-old girl imagines a grown woman’s sexual desire to be like.
Got off on a bit of a rant, there, didn’t I? Anyway, I don’t worry about the sex of the author. I believe either sex is capable of creating good characters of either sex, even though not all do.
It can be about anything you like…
“whose only imperfection is that she’s ruled by what a 13-year-old girl imagines a grown woman’s secual desire to be like.”
That’s such a beautifully apt way of describing those types of books. I find it the whole fantastic-at-everything-but-don’t-ask-me-to-cook (or other “feminine” activity) trope annoying as well. Yeah, housework is not the shining goal of life that advertisements seem to think it is…but most competent adults can pull a meal together, iron a shirt or in some way hold their domestic life together. Also, I’d like to see any kick-arse person in real life stay energetic and fit while living off instant meals.
I’ve been thinking about this a little more. For a while, I thought that the ferocious avoidance of any traditionally feminine activities came from fear of stereotypes–if the heroine so much as offers an omelet to a starving houseguest then she might be perceived as a traditional little woman cooking up goodies, so we’d better make it Chinese leftovers instead.
I still think that might be a factor, but I also think there’s some wish-fulfillment involved. Most people who have cooked for a family for years would love a cooking-free life. So heroines are young, beautiful, besieged by sexy suitors, in possession of superpowers–and never cook.
That’s a really, really good point re wish fulfilment.
I always thought it was partly over-avoidance of stereotypes and partly a lazy way to introduce a flaw (she’s not perfect, she can’t cook! a la Bella’s clumsiness in Twilight), but I think wish fulfilment is definitely a primary factor.
It reminds me of a discussion about home I went to at last year’s Perth Writer’s Festival. A woman panellist spoke about how the notion of “home” is traditionally a refuge, a haven, and how that is true for men and children but for women, “home” has the double-meaning of chores and responsibilities and expectations.
Then a male speaker, looking slightly abashed, spoke about how home is a refuge, a haven…
I’m not big on housework and my partner and I share some duties and refuse to do others (I Do Not Iron Unless Attending Job Interview), but I can see where she was coming from, when I glance about the house and think, ‘better do a tidy-up’ or ‘gee, it’s getting a bit feral in the bathroom’, and I don’t think the same thought crosses my partner’s mind nearly as often.
So I can see where wish fulfilment comes from – in fact, maybe that’s partly why I hate it when authors describe their characters doing the laundry. Maybe I’m trying to pretend laundry doesn’t exist.