Back in 2023, I was at a local author showcase at a library in my area, in a large room with a bunch of other authors. Each of us had our books, advertising flyers, posters, and other merchandise displayed and ready for sale. While there wasn't a whole lot of traffic from the public, it was nice to associate with other local authors, buying and selling each other's books among ourselves and learning about each other's experiences as writers. We would walk around to each other's displays and talk to each other about our books.
One author in particular was a proud member of the LGBT community, and her books and writing were both geared toward and reflective of her community. While I do not belong to that community, I admire her for being open and upfront about who she is and where she comes from and what her writing is about. When this young lady came by my display, I talked about my two published books and how the first one was a parody-mashup based on the premise of Harry Potter mixed with other franchises, and how the second one mostly parodied the Narnia book, Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
I can't recall if I was giving away books for free that day, or selling them, or offering to trade, but what I recall very clearly was the fact that when I offered one of my books to her, she turned down the first book and went with the second book instead, saying something like, "I can do Narnia."
I thought that was a bit odd, since most people would want to read the first book in a series, but I was okay with it. After all, I was happy that she was willing to take any of my books.
It was only later that it finally hit me, the probable reason for why this person had made the choice not to read my first book. It was because my book parodied Harry Potter. And for a very large number of people, that is no longer okay.
So much has been said in the past five years about J. K. Rowling and the controversial statements that she made, and continues to make, about transgender people, in particular about transgender women. I'm not posting here to weigh in on her statements and whether I agree or disagree with one side or the other of the controversy. There's nothing I can say that will meaningfully add to that dialogue.
What I am here to talk about is how the controversy itself has affected me personally, and how much it hurts to know that my Jerry Copperpot parody/mashup book series, deserving or not, will be forever tainted by indirect association to Harry Potter.
So, when it came to addressing the controversy while writing my new novels, parts three and four of the Jerry Copperpot series, I felt that, given the metafictional nature of my writing, the best way I could handle it was within the text itself.
In book four, Jerry finally gets to meet his hero, Jake A. Rolling. But instead of the smiling young dark-haired fellow Jerry is used to seeing in the author photos on the books, he turns out to be a frail white-haired old man, tired and prematurely aging beyond his years- incidentally a very intentional reference to Bilbo Baggins in the Lord of the Rings after he gave up the ring. Rolling goes on to explain to Jerry the reason for his appearance:
That's the condensed, fictionalized version of it, and an excerpt from a rough draft, but I'd like to go a little deeper into what I meant when I wrote that.
Here's the thing about being part of a fan community-- it's like a family. An extended family bound together by love for something, be it music, books, movies, TV shows, anything pop culture can produce. These feelings of love are strong, powerful emotions.
And just like a family, when something creates a rift in a fan community, it's like what a divorce does to a family. People take sides, they stop associating with one another. The powerful feelings that once held them together get turned around and push them apart. There's a real psychology involved in this.
So when J.K. Rowling's statements about trans people split the Harry Potter fan community along roughly ideological lines, it was just like a divorce. Half the fans, now former fans, have turned against her and her art, while the other half have stayed with her and even take stances in her defence.
I've seen this happen in different fan communities for one reason or another. For example, the fan communities of some of my favorite '70s rock bands have experienced a schism when those bands have parted with core members. It happened with Styx fans, and it happened particularly with the Journey fan community, who it seems has lost their sense of humor and cannot take the slightest joke about their favorite band.
Such schisms in rock band fan communities pale in comparison to the split in Harry Potter fans. It's almost unfair for me to make the comparison. But like those Journey fans, some current and former Harry Potter fans have most certainly lost their sense of humor. After all, who wants to laugh when the author of books you once loved is making transphobic comments that are deeply hurtful to the LGBT community and their allies in general?
So when they see my novel, where my character Jerry Copperpot is reading a book called Harvey Totter by one Jake A. Rolling, there's no desire to laugh. No matter that my first book was published in 2019 before this all started, and conceived and mostly written in 2016 before the politically polarizing era of Donald Trump began.
Some might say that I've got nothing to complain about. Due to my age, I didn't grow up with Harry Potter, therefore I didn't have a cherished part of my childhood become poisoned and tainted, made unpalatable by Rowling's transphobia. And neither did wind up with those who feel they need to defend and support Rowling and her art. Perhaps I should just shut up because I'm not one of the children of this divorce; I didn't watch my parents break up and my household fall to pieces. I am merely a member of the extended family.
And yet, in a divorce, the extended family suffers too. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins on both sides get cut off, disinvited, and excluded. And here I am, the goofy uncle who tells bad dad jokes, who is no longer welcome to gather with some of them, or if I am permitted to attend, my jokes are certainly not, for they have grown old and stale and irrelevant.
It's not to say that I don't mourn parts of my own childhood pop culture that have become tainted by their creators' controversies. I myself threw out all my Bill Cosby records when he admitted to his crimes against women, and I can no longer laugh at Woody Allen the way I once did after learning of the allegations made against him. I can understand, in a small way, where they are coming from in this respect.
But it still hurts to know that my parodies have been effectively canceled, simply by association and through no fault of my own.
Even one of my own kids, who recently came out as part of the LGBT community, has mixed feelings about the connection between my novels and JK Rowling's books. And my kids are my biggest fans. This is not the place to discuss my own family situation in detail, but it would be an understatement to say that my own experience dealing with my child's identity and mental health situation has been difficult, being torn between my liberal politics and my conservative religion, between accommodating my kid and still practicing my beliefs with the remainder of my family. The anxiety, pain, worry, and heartbreak in this particular experience have been overwhelming at times, and there are some days when it seems like Mulderscull, the personification of my anxiety, will win in a tragically ironic real-life way that I never would have imagined when I created him as a character in my first novel.
My writing has become a form of escape and helped greatly in dealing with my mood and emotions during these times. And all I can do is carry on, and hope that someone, somewhere will still read my books or listen to my audiobooks and be a little more understanding of where I'm coming from.
