Sci-Fi and Eggplant

What do the two have in common? People who have never tried it tend to turn their noses up at it. I have a theory: it's all in the name. If I call it "speculative fiction," then the instant mental image isn't of aliens and spaceships, just like if I call it an "aubergine," that sounds exotic and French and yummy, right?

A lot of my work falls into that weird slipstream category where it isn't quite Sci-Fi, but it isn't just non-genre contemporary fiction either. Oh, and I like eggplant. They have this great baked eggplant with sundried tomatoes on sourdough thing over at 2nd City and... wait, I'm talking about books now. Lunch was just really good, and it was definitely hearty, stick-to-your-ribs eggplant, not fancy, frilly aubergine.

Anyway, I'm guilty of speculative-fictioning my own work because I feel like a giant dork when I call it Urban Fantasy, even though that's what it is. My biggest fiction project, which will commence at midnight as I've saved it for NaNoWriMo, is definitely a fantastical story taking place in a real-world setting. By definition, that's Urban Fantasy and yet, when people outside my circle of geeks friends ask what kind of book I'm working on, I suddenly become acutely aware that I am the nerd who says things like "these aren't the droids you're looking for" without first checking to see if I'm among people who have even seen Star Wars, and so I say "Speculative Fiction."

One of Bill Maher's New Rules is, "call things what they are." So, in the spirit of that rule and in honor of NaNoWriMo-eve, I will hold my chin up high and announce that my novel, titled On the Wings of the Night, is Urban Fantasy.

Now, you can go about your business. Move along. Have the eggplant.