Long Time, No Blog

At least really blog. With the kind of content I like to write about. But I've been a bit distracted as of late.

The most recent distraction was, probably like most people, the holidays. #2 is my Nano work in progress. Which despite my not updating my NanoWriMo profile I have kept up with a bit. Mid-week I crossed the 20k word threshhold, which was my initial goal for the month. Even though it's scattered as hell and would probably get me a one way ticket to the nearest Asylum (which, I think, is St. Elizabeth's) I've got 3 complete chapters. Or at least complete enough that I have a better idea of where things are going than I did four weeks ago.

But my main distraction, both this past week and really all this month, is career related. Finding that right career path is dificult for everyone, but you throw in the desire to actively pursue interests like writing into the mix and it gets more difficult. Do you get a job that makes you write during the day, possibly making you sick of writing by the time you get home, or do you pursue something completely different? I once heard Samuel Delany say that every writer in the beginning of his career should work as a ditch digger. It doesn't demand anything of you mentally, so you have time during the day to think about writing and then time at night to actually do the writing. Trouble is, I'm getting to that point that I'm looking towards big life things like marriage, kids, a house....all that normal crap everyone wants. I've spent most of my working life in different jobs at arts organizations, and I've tried teaching college. Arts jobs just aren't doing it for me anymore, and while I loved teaching I grew tired of hearing that I'd have to slave away as a part-time adjunct for 5-10 years before getting anything full time.

So I started looking at libraries. It's working with books, helping people find information and literature, but not in the same corporate way that it would be if I worked for a publishing house. Whether or not it's the right choice, I don't know for sure. But it seems a better path than the one I'm on now. I applied to graduate school late last month, and somewhat to my surprise I was accepted to my first choice of schools. Now I'm facing that big life change. I'm excited about learning something new and taking some steps in another direction, but nervous that the steps are the wrong ones. Only time, I suppose, will tell.

But in the meantime, I have a novel to keep cranking away at and book reviews to churn out and life to live. I hope to keep reporting on all of the above as I go through it.

Excelsior.

Happy Thanksgiving

I've spent most of the last two days cleaning and doing yardwork, getting ready for the two houseguests for Thanksgiving. A lot of work, with small gratification. But that's okay. It will be a nice day once the food's in the oven. We're actually having ham, not the glorious turducken shown in the photo above. No one else seems as intrigued by the concept of the turducken (a hen shoved inside a duck, then shoved inside a turkey doused in cajun seasoning) as me, so I may just have to order my own sometime.

Hope everyone has a great day. I'll have something writing/reading related up tomorrow.

Excelsior.

Potterific

Yesterday Miss L and I took a break from everything and took in a matinee of the new Harry Potter movie, Goblet of Fire. As a preface, I'll make it known that I'm not a mega-fan of all things Potter. I've enjoyed the books I've read (about half of them) and the movies have all been pretty entertaining but I don't approach Potter with the sheer mania and extreme fandom some seem to. My boss at work, for example, re-read the entire series thus far in the weeks leading up to the release of the HP novel that came out this fall. She also keeps pretty extensive notes on everything Potter, trying to forecast future plotlines like some great psychic. Her fandom is not limited to HP, though. The background image on her computer at work is a mildly racy photo of actor Scott Bakula.

But I was writing about Harry Potter.

Goblet of Fire is a surprisingly fun movie. From someone who's only read the book once, and not in some time, I was really pleased. It's much better paced than the last HP movie and Finnes as Voldemort is one of the creepiest figures I've seen in recent cinema. I won't go so far to call it great art, but it's probably the movie I've enjoyed most on a sheer entertainment level this year, with Batman Begins coming in at a very close 2nd. The challenges the four go through for the Tri-Wizard contest made me think a bit more about some of my plot twists and obstacles, and I'm rethinking them a bit. Because, at least for now, it's all about the NanoNovel. I can't even walk down the street anymore without thinking how it might tie into the NanoNovel.

Excelsior.

Nano Update

I lost my writing flow the last few days. A few weeks ago I caught a pretty bad head cold, and the cough was still lingering. For some reason last Friday I decided to go running, and I spent the rest of the day hacking up my lungs. That combined with staying up way to late several days in a row caught up with me and got me sick again. So I napped during my lunch hour at work, napped on the metro ride home and went to bed right after dinner every night the last several days.

But I'm feeling more human again. Yesterday I finally got hero #2 to the fantasy world, and I've written a few scenes from the point of view of Clive the talking dog. Now that I'm in the fantasy world I'm going to try to just let my mind go and populate it with some crazy races of creatures. Creatures with spider torsos and human heads. Sentient being who eat through photosynthesis. And the always required Birdmen. Or maybe not, I haven't decided yet.

Today's my day off, and I'll be fine-tuning some book reviews and then trying to crank out 5 pages or so for the NanoNovel. Good luck to any others out there trying to keep pace.

Excelsior.

Google Print

I know this topic already is taking up a lot of bandwidth, airtime and printspace in lots of other venues, but it's important enough to spread as much info as possible.

Tomorrow representatives from Google, the Author's Guild and the Association of American Publishers will meet in NY City to discuss the big hullabaloo over Google wanting to scan and publish vast quantities of material online. A large part of the disagreement seems to come from the way tech companies do business; tech companies often get so enamored with their new toys and blaze ahead, hoping law will restructure around them. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it is bound to cause some intense debate over the next several months until both sides come to some kind of an agreement. Whatever happens, the publishing industry and writers may very well face some of the same issues music labels have dealt with ever since Napster first went online.

Quite possibly one of the better looks at the issues involved comes not from a lawyer or a tech expert, but a lone writer in Scotland. Author Charlie Stross speaks from the unique point of view of an author who offered his recent novel Accelerando for free online while you could still buy a hardcopy at your local bookstore. More than anything, I appreciate his point that he just wants to be asked first.

If you need more detailed info, take a look at the COCOA proposal and even sign their petition. It's an important issue for anyone who writes or who wants to write for a living, and best to be informed as much as you can.

Excelsior.

Happy B-Day Mr. Vonnegut

Yep. Today is Kurt Vonnegut's birthday, and he reaches the well earned age of 83 if the article I read this morning is at all accurate.

Of late Vonnegut's become somewhat of a letdown to me. His recent books still have their clever moments but by and large lack the punch his masterworks like Breakfast of Champions deliver. His political essays written for various magazines and newspapers since 9-11 have also lacked a certain polish, although they certainly contain a lot of the anger he's always had, just none of the clever pathos. Despite that, I'll always have a soft spot in my reading heart for Mr. Vonnegut. His books cracked my head open to some pomo ideas that I still love to play with, and I don't think anyone else has delivered them in a manner quite so universal as Vonnegut. When I'm out at dinner tonight with Miss L and some of her pals I'll insist on a toast to one of the great writers and satirists of our age.

And for any who would deny his influence upon society, just pay a visit here.

Excelsior.

Nano Update

I hadn't intended to be reading Mieville's collection Looking for Jake as inspiration reading while scrawling out my NanoWriMo entry, but it's kind of turned out that way. I'm really impressed with how he takes an unusual fear or psychosis and makes it reality in his fiction. Probably my favorite story thus far is "Different Skies". The man character is an elderly gent living in London. Teens are getting a bit wilder and the old timer is a bit afraid of them. He has a new window installed in his apartment; by day it's normal but at night one of the panes of glass looks not outside his own home but onto a dark, dirty alleyway. A gang of shadowy kids lurk there in the mysterious alleyway, taunting him with messages in chalk on the walls and tossing rocks at his window. Very odd, very distinctive and very creepy.

My own writing is going ok. As of now, I'm a little shy of 15k words. So I'm actually ahead of schedule for my own goal of 20k words. I'm pretty much ignoring everyone pushing so hard to 50k. Someone in the forum said it best when they said, "NanoWriMo isn't about competing with other writers. It's about competing with yourself and whatever goals you set." Approaching it that way, I feel pretty good about what I'm doing and what I'm writing. It's a big stinking mess at this point, but after everything's laid out I feel pretty sure I can straighten it up a bit after about a thousand edits.

Excelsior.

Porgy and Bess

A good write-up at The Post for the free broadcast of Porgy and Bess the Washington Opera put together on the National Mall this past Sunday. Basically, they set up a large screen on the mall near the Hirshhorn Sculpture garden and did a live broadcast of their performance that afternoon at the Kennedy Center.

I myself was not able to attend. Sadly, I was working. My Mom, however, did go and I had the chance to "interview" her about her experience over dinner at the nearby Gordon Biersch restaurant. So with a blackened Mahi Mahi in front of me and some kind of stir fry in front of her, I asked my mom about the whole event.

Heb: So, how was it?

Heb's Mom: Right before it started they said they had an estimated turnout of 7000 people. But more kept coming as the screening continued.

Heb: Ok. So how was the music.

Heb's Mom: Oh, it was great. I've heard Porgy and Bess on albums before but I've never sat through an actual performance. Not even on television. Even though it was in English, they still used Supertitles. It really helped me keep up with the story. The sound system they used was great and whoever ran the cameras did a fabulous job shooting from different perspectives.

Heb: What kind of people came to the screening?

Heb's Mom: A mixture. Most were people were middle-aged or older. But a lot of families with small children. A number of people brought dogs. The dogs didn't seem to like it, though.

Heb: No?

Heb's Mom: Well, they would bark pretty loudly everytime one of the sopranos sang. One thing they really did well was have plenty of porta-potties set up. Some of the mroe uppity people looked at them like they were some kind of abomination, but everyone used them during intermission.

Heb: So will you go to more things by the Washington Opera?

Heb's Mom: I'll think about it. I already subscribe to two other things and the Washington Opera is a lot more expensive. Maybe if I drop one next year I'll start going.

So there you have it.

I'm sure Washington Opera hopes the free concert, which their own board apparently paid for, will increase interest in their performances. The only opera I've been to was a free dress rehearsal held a few years ago at Constitution Hall. But I'm afraid I have to agree with my mom on this one. Their bottom end seats run $45, and prices run all the way up to $290. A low level worker bee like me has to think twice when he sees a movie for $12, so even their low end seats are a stretch for a joe blow like me. Special events like these are great, because they expose people to opera who might not otherwise be able to drop $290 or even $45. So keep doing the freebies...people love them.

Excelsior.

Stop Reading....

and go vote, you slacker!

There are important state-wide elections going on in most states in the U.S. today. Some states, like New Jersey and my own Virginia, are particularly vital because we are electing new governors and the races look like they will be close ones.

I stopped at my local polling station on my way to work today. Very sad to see only two people in line ahead of me, and both of them obviously part of the retired set. I know most people go after work, but still. If you haven't voted, leave work early, run out on your lunch break. If nothing else, you get a free sticker.

Excelsior.

Fast Cars and Sweaty Guys in Jumpsuits=Hot Romance

Good reliable Harlequin Romances recently announced a new line of titles based on the still growing Nascar racing trend. The debut novel In the Groove by romance author Pamela Britton is slated to be released in January of 2006, right before the Daytona 500.

I never really caught Nascar fever. I went to undergrad in a pretty small town and I clearly remember my friends and I making fun of all the people who shopped in the Nascar store at the local mall. I didn't get it then, and I don't really get it now. But it's an undeniable phenomenon, and not surprising romance would take steps into the Nascar market.

I'm imagining romantic laisons committed on top of cars, in cars while they zoom around the track and perhaps even on those little flat platforms on wheels mechanics use to work under cars. I'm hoping for a retooled version of Ballard's Crash, but I doubt things will get that racy. More likely we'll have Fabio squezzed into a skintight jumpsuit, smelling of sweat oil and gasoline, flexing his fabulous pecs and gawking at an innumerable ammount of heaving bosoms.

Excelsior

Nanowrimo: Day 4

My progress so far has been pretty slow, writing a couple hundred words each day. Initially, I hand-write everything. Probably part of why I'm so slow.

I'm not exactly sure what happened, but this afternoon I started typing in what I had so far, expanding and editing a bit as I went along. Somehow I ended up with 4k words. Not sure how I did that. Placed alongside some very speedy writers out there dishing out 5-10k a day, it's not that impressive. But I'm quite pleased with the progress. At that rate, I'll hit around 20k or a little more. A number I'll be pretty happy with for a month's work. The trick will be to keep going after November.

The next chapter will probably be tougher. I now enter the actual fantasy world of my fantasy (there's some hopping back and forth between the "real" world and a fantasy world). I don't have the fantasy world as well thought out as I probably should, so I'll be relying pretty heavily on my inner critic shutting the hell up and the little kid in me letting loose with every weird detail he can muster up. I may be sidetracked here and there by odd real life things as well, but I hope not too much.

I plan on making coffee my best friend over the next few weeks. That's the only way I'll be able to keep up.

Excelsior.

That's Entertainment

Gaiman follows up the success of his modern-day, mythical fantasy American Gods with the equally mythical and darkly comic gem Anansi Boys. Charles "Fat Charlie" Nancy leads a normal, ordinary, even boring existence. Strapped to a London office job he's less than thrilled with, his approaching wedding with his fiancé Rosie is the only thing he has to look forward to in life. One day Charlie calls the U.S. to invite his estranged father to the wedding and finds out he just died. After jetting off to Florida for the funeral he not only discovers a brother he didn't know he had, he also learns his father is the West African trickster god known as Anansi. Charlie’s brother Spider, who possesses a wide array of magical powers almost equal Anansi’s, later visits poor Charlie in London and spins Charlie’s life out of control. Spider takes over Charlie’s life and gets him fired, sleeps with his fiancée and even gets him arrested for involvement in white collar crime Charlie had nothing to do with. When Spider refuses to leave Charlie decides to fight back by getting assistance from other gods, some of whom are not so fond of Anansi. And that's when the real trouble begins. The other gods lead the brothers into adventures that are at times scary, and others downright hysterical. At first Charlie is completely overwhelmed by this new world, but he is, in the end, Anansi's son and shows just as much flair for trickery as his brother.

With its quirky myths and inventive fantasy fans of Gaiman will be thrilled with AB. But Gaiman writes this time with a fuller sense of character. American Gods held such a large cast it sometimes got a little distracting. But here focusing on a smaller handful gives Gaiman the room to really breathe life into these amazing characters. His writing is also funnier, sillier and readable in that special way that looks so much easier than it really is.

The end result is fantasy that is funny, readable and extremely entertaining. I wondered sometimes, though, if just being entertaining is enough. Particularly now as I pen my own crappy submission for Nanowrimo, I wonder if we need to ask more of writers and more of ourselves when we write. Perhaps after grad school and reviewing various books for awhile it's hard for me to sit down and just plain enjoy a good read. But I can't help but feel that Gaiman is capable of just a little more in terms of a story that will really, really move his readers on a deeper emotional level. Don't get me wrong....he's earned his status as a popular and respected writer and I'd love to have his career. But if AB was a meal at my favorite eatery, I came away from the table still just the tiniest bit hungry.

Excelsior

Halloween

Hope everyone had a good All Hallow's Eve. Mine was pretty quiet. I spent it wearing my leather mask, listening to Skinny Puppy (there's no other music more suited to Halloween) and handing out candy to kids in football jerseys way too old to be trick-or-treating. But it's better I get the candy out of the house, so I doled out the Paydays and Reese's Cups in large handfulls.

I did do a couple of things over the weekend that were quasi-Halloween related.

Saturday night Miss L and I ventured to the AFI theatre in Silver Spring, Md. They were running old silent horror movies and using musicians to play new scores for the films. We saw Der Golem, an old German movie based on the Jewish Folktale the Golem. Music was written and performed by Baltimore's own Yeveto, a quartet composed of guitar, bass, keyboards, percussion and cello. Kind of an interesting mix of indie and experimental rock with chamber music and film scores. Edgy, gritty but often still melodic. The style often reminded me of other indie-rocker instrumental groups like Mogwai and God Speed You Black Emperor, but the overall sound was more diverse and dramatic. Their material complemented the film nicely, and I'll be curious to see what non-film score work they develop.

Last night took a very different turn. One of my co-workers, a 50-something self-described bear of a man, is obsessed with Cher. Okay, more than obsessed. Somehow he also holds the talent of imitating her singing voice. Last night he made an appearance at a bar dressed in full Halloween witch regalia, belting out such Cher winners as Dark Lady and Half Breed. For each song, you got a free drink from the bar. So by the end of the evening CherBear was pretty lit, prancing around the bar and enjoying himself like I've never seen. It was nice to see him so comfortable and relax, even if the music isn't my typical taste.

Tomorrow is day one of NaNoWriMo. Unless I really get into a flow, I don't actually expect to pull together a full novel in a 30 days. Not even the short novel of 50k words most are shooting for. I'm pretty much aiming for an average of two pages a day, a more realistic goal for my normal writing speed. If I get that much I'll be pretty happy with myself. The website is interesting. There are number of forums set up so people can ask quick research questions from all the members, as well as forums for people just to bitch about their lack of progress. In some ways, the website almost seems designed to give you more ways to avoid writing. But we'll see how it goes.

I'll probably be posting complaints and updates at various points over the month. I may or may not keep a running word count here, just to stick my face out completely for public ridicule.

Excelsior.

Albinism in Literature

With NaNoWriMo right around the corner, I'm cramming in some last minute research before I actually start writing on November 1. Probably not terribly surprising to anyone who reads here even somewhat regularly, the basic plot is a dark fantasy/horror with some light experimental touches. At least that's the hope.

I decided awhile ago that my main character will be an albino. But I want to treat this character differently. Albinos in literature and art are often used as thematic props, with little or no depth and little relation to what ablinism really is. So part of what I want to do is make my character as real as possible, and I'll do that partly by poking fun at some of the other books out there that use albinos in more stereotypical ways. My character is a literature student, so it would be important to him to be aware of all this. Here are the ones I've stumbled across so far:

Albino Knife by Steve Perry
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
The Elric Saga by Michael Moorcock
The Invisible Man by HG Wells
The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester
The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown
The Likes of Me by Randall Beth Platt
Ghost Boy by Iain Lawrence
I Sent for You Yesterday by John Edgar Wideman
The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper
Maia by Richard Adams
White Jenna by Jane Yolen
Bulletproof Soul by Steven L. Shrewsbury
Skels by Maggie Dubris


Strangely, I've read most of these over the years. The few I haven't, I'll try to snag at the library. If people know of others, please email me or reply to the post. All help appreciated!

Special thanks to Albinism in Popular Culture.

Excelsior.

Tales of the Blue Bear

When I was a little kid, about ages four and five, one of my best friends was another boy named Brendan. He was, and quite possibly still is, the best storyteller and most convincing liar I've ever known.

Once when I was visiting him he convinced me dinosaurs lived under his house, and the little hill in his front yard came from a Tyrannosaurus rex bumping his head. The dinosaurs hid underground during the day but prowled the neighborhood at night; the only way to keep them at bay was to have a red-colored night light shining in your bedroom. Otherwise, you'd become a nice midnight snack for something large and reptilian. Now I knew dinosaurs were extinct. And I knew the probability that some small contingent of them living under Brendan's house was pretty small, but he told it so well I believed him. I used that damn red night light for weeks. He even had the ability to convince himself of ridiculous things. I remember one hot summer week spent digging a hole in his backyard because Brendan convinced us that we all wanted to go to China. And Brendan worked harder at it than anyone else.

The title character in Walter Moers’s fabulous illustrated novel The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear is much like my old friend Brendan. Bluebear is, quite simply, a walking, talking bear with blue fur. A blue bear, as we are told on the first page, lives for 27 years and this novel is a first person account of Bluebear's first 13 1/2 lives. Each "life" is a stage in his growth and works like a fable with a little lesson. But don't worry. These aren't preachy little fables with some old man with aa long beard scolding you at the end. These are fables of monsters who fatten up their victims with fabulous food for months before eating them. Fables of city-sized, smoke belching battleships cruising the high seas. Fables of....

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The book opens with Bluebear's first memory: as a cub, floating with nothing more than a nutshell as his life-raft, he heads straight for a giant whirlpool threatening to suck him down into oblivion. Suddenly, he's saved by a boatload of liliputian pirates who teach him everything you could ever want to know about sailing. From there he enters into a lifetime (okay, 13 1/2 lifetimes) filled with humor and bizarre adventures. One part Norton Juster's The Phantom Tollbooth and two parts Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the novel mixes fantasy, science fiction, and tall tales into a wonderfully satirical cocktail you can't help but gulp down. Traveling through a land called Zamonia, a lost continent floating somewhere on the planet Earth, he encounters headless giants, pterodactyls who fly around saving people from otherwise certain death, and a giant spider who lures in its prey through fabulously convincing illusions. Many of the stories are improbable, in fact downright unbelievable, but Bluebear's wry and sly storyteller's voice, much like my friend Brendan's, makes you want to believe so much that you can't help but buy every little thing the hirsute adventurer is selling you.

There is much to entertain here; Moers’s wild imagination and fun wordplay have an almost childlike whimsy that remind me why exactly I love reading. Although much of the book walks the line between YA and adult, Moers works in enough depth to entertain the most disbelieving adults. The writing is definitely strong enough to carry itself, but coming from a comic book background Moers also includes black and white illustrations that enhance the whimsical nature of the story.

With so many little side trips to Bluebear's narrative, the story might frustrate those eager for an easy to follow, straght-lined plot. But this is not that kind of story. This is the kind of story you have to sit back and enjoy, no matter where it takes you. It does, eventually, tie together all the loose threads in a number of fun ways, re-using characters from past adventures and forcing Bluebear to use skills he learned earlier. This is truest in the city of Atlantis, where Bluebear becomes a professional story teller. Pulling from all his past adventures, his wild imagination and natural gift for drama Bluebear competes in slam-style competitions for money and fame. He's wildly successful, besting all challengers quite easily until he's faced with his idol, a half-man half-fox creature who returns to competing after a lengthy retirement

After developing a strong cult following both in Moer's native Germany and the U.K., there's now a movie in the works and a second book on the way. With the first book finally coming to the U.S. there are likely to be many more joining me in this joyous, guilty reading pleasure.

Excelsior

Four and Twenty Blackbirds

For as long as she can remember, Eden Moore has been gifted with the ability to see ghosts. Three dead sisters, all distant relatives of Eden, visit her quite frequently, watching over her and offering their cryptic advice. Much of it confuses young Eden, until she is attacked by Malachi, a distant cousin who believes Eden to be the reincarnation of their voodoo priest of a great grandfather. The three ghosts guide her through a forest and mine shaft, allowing Eden to escape harm and putting Malachi in jail. Not suprinsingly, Eden wants to know why this cousin she never met wants her dead. Raised by her aunt, it's natural that she would turn to her for answers. Although she seems to know a good bit about it all---Malachi, the great grandfather, the dead sisters, Eden's dead mother--- she refuses to tell Eden anything, claiming it's all to protect her niece. This is but the opening chapter to Cherie Priest's Four and Twenty Blackbirds, a horror/dark fantasy romp through the mansions, swamps, and cellars of the southern US.

The story jumps ahead twenty years; Malachi escapes imprisonment and makes another attempt on Eden's life. When her aunt still won't tell Eden anything, Eden conducts some research that leads her to a long-deserted home for troubled teens, an antebellum mansion, a new age bookstore and, finally, to the deep, dangerous swamps of Florida. The deeper she digs, the more frantic the ghosts become. At the core of Eden's story lies an ancient family curse, a curse connected to her great-grandfather and his search for eternal life. Set in Tennessee, Georgia and Florida, much of the book pulls from the traditions of the southern gothic horror tale. Family secrets, incest, ghosts, voodoo magic much of it is familiar territory. But despite some of the reliance on overused motifs author Priest pulls it off, and mostly through Eden.

Although she'd probably drive me crazy if I ever met her on the street, Eden’s a fantastic character. She's the kind of person who sends food back in a diner not once, not twice, but three times. The kind of person who sits on the outside seat on the bus and refuses to scoot over for anything because, dammit, that other seat’s for her purse. Not at all likable in real life, but it makes for a fabulous character. So often characters in a first novel sit back and just let things happen to them. But Eden is a doer, a person who runs out to find what she wants, no matter the consequences. Things are rarely slow down in this tale, because Eden is constantly pushing and prodding to find the secrets behind her family.

From the horror angle, the writing is deliciously spooky. Whether it's an abandoned building, a dank, claustrophobic swamp, or the latrine at a summer camp the layers of detail and near-Faulknerian language suck you into her world. Priest also knows the difference between dancing ghostly images off in her corner of the eye and putting something ghastly right in front of you, and she knows when to use which method. She's certainly not breaking new ground here, but it's a wonderful page turner and after seeing so much bad horror and dark fantasy over the past year it's refreshing to see someone who can deliver a good story with a strong central character and truly evocative language. Fast-paced, ghastly fun from a writer of real promise.

Tipping the Tree

Last week I sent in a review of the new L. Timmel Duchamp book Alanya to Alanya to Strange Horizons. It's a pretty good book, very political, and in the review I make some assertions linking it to Feminist SF, particuarly the Feminist SF written in the early 1970's. Along with Kelly Link and one or two other writers, Duchamp has been linked to a undercurrent trend in SF revitalizing feminist themes. Considering Duchamp also admits the heavy influence in the book's afterward section, I felt it a pretty good link to make in a book review.

Stange Horizons liked the review, and liked the links I made. But they wanted something more specific--metions of specific writers, stories or novels to tie into Duchamp and the themes of her new book. I know a little about the Feminist SF, but mostly the big names. Octavia Butler. Ursula K. LeGuin. And, of course, the grand master of it: Alice B. Sheldon, aka James Tiptree, jr. But I didn't feel informed enough to start making links to specific works.

So I've spent the last few days in my local library, combing through about 30 years of short fiction, book reviews and criticism. It's an interesting little subset of SF, and if there's one commonality at all it's that men and women see the world and think differently and the differences need to be explored and celebrated. Some stories go so far to suggest---ok, more than suggest---that if our societies were based more on the female-style of thinking instead of the power driven male style, the world would be a better place. With so much out there, it's a little daunting at the moment for me to choose which author, much less even which story, to focus on. But I'm thinking Tiptree is the way to go. A number of the basic ideas in Duchamp's novel seemed pulled right out of Tiptree, although Duchamp expands on puts her own stamp on them. I'm sleepy, and my brain is still a little muddled, but hopefully I'll get it done within the next day.

Coming soon, I should have a review up for Cherie Priest's ghosty novel, Four and Twenty Blackbirds.

Excelsior.

Anne Rice: Changing Gears

Best known for her widely popular novels involving vampires, witches and mummies Rice leaves the Goth behind her and explores the mysteries beneath the childhood of Jesus Christ in her newest novel, Christ the Lord. At age seven, Jesus and his family leave Egypt to return to their home and find themselves caught in the middle of a revolution after the death of the first King Herod, then ruler of the portion of the Roman Empire that included Israel. Rice does a fabulous job developing and weaving layers of historical detail. From political upheavals to Jewish ceremonies to proper weaving technique, I was quite surprised by how smoothly she creates the atmosphere of the times.

Although the historical and cultural details are authentic and well done, it is the character of Jesus that drives this novel. Jesus feels like a typical seven year old boy, but he’s a boy suddenly discovering abilities no one else possesses. With but a thought he brings clay birds to life, makes it snow, and even resurrects a dead playmate. Strangely….and as a comics fan I mean this in the best possible sense…this concept reminded me more of X-Men comics than anything else. There’s many a mutant hero who bumbled through the early days of his or her power, and that unique form of self-discovery is always full of possibilities.

Stunned by these odd happenings he turns to Joseph and Mary for answers. When they are not forthcoming he’s forced to hunt out clues through local legends, rumors and a strange spirit who visits and taunts him in his own dreams. Told in the first person from Jesus’s point of view, the strength of the novel weighs heavily on Rice’s ability to make him believable both as a child and as the son of god and she does a winning job with it. The wisdom of all things religious fills Jesus completely, but he’s naïve of day-to-day events. It’s almost charming when he can’t understand why a young girl he used to play with suddenly prefers at age twelve to learn about weaving and raising children. Fully developed and likable, Rice’s version of Jesus is not only believable, but probably her most memorable character since Lestat.

My only complaint about the book would be her use of language. Her prose style is very plain, very direct and lacks a certain poetry I’ve seen in some of her other work. That said, it probably makes it more accessible to a general audience. It’s difficult to say how well this book will do for her. Many of her vampire fans may not follow, because the subject matter lacks a lot of the flashy, gothy glamour many of her other works have. But breaking out into a different area widens her audience, and since she handles the story with a sense that’s both bold and reverent she just might pull it off.

Excelsior

Best of the Year

The National Book Award Nominees (very happy for both Didion and Vollman, btw) aren't the only big announcements for the week. The mag I review for pulled together the "best" for the past year. As explanation, most of my fellow reviewers are librarians, and the reviews are supposed to be adult books that a teen reader might like. The “best” are books the mag covered in the past year, and can be anything. Like normal, this year is dominated by fiction, but there are also a couple of graphic novels, a memoir, and some other non-fiction. All are judged equally, regardless of style, format, or genre.

Basically, anyone who reviews can nominate a best book. Once nominated, someone else reads it and either supports it or turns it down. If supported, the person who nominated it makes a short presentation to the group, and then there’s a vote. I seconded a few, turned down a few, but the only book I nominated is Anderson’s graphic novel, King. The whole nomination thing’s giving me a little more perspective on these awards. Even though my name is loosely attached to the list, I’ve only actually read three of them. Aside from Anderson’s, I read Will’s Choice, The Memory of Running, and Star Wars: Visionaries, all of which I give high marks to. But the others I have no idea about, aside from what other people have told me. From what I gather, our system is not that different from many others. In some ways, I'm quite proud of how diverse it is and pleased it's not all best sellers.

The big list this year (in no particular order) is:

Can't Stop, Won't Stop: A History of the Hip Hop Generation by Jeff Chang


The Children's War by Monique Charlesworth


Dear Zoe by Philip Beard


Freedom Rising: Washington in the Civil War by Ernerst Furguson


The Good Man Edward Jae-Suk Lee


King: The Complete Edition by Ho Che Anderson


The Lost German Slave Girl by John Bailey


The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty


My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult


Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro


Ophelia's Fan by Christine Balint


Pardonable Lies: A Maisie Dobbs Mystery by Jacqueline Winspear


Sky Bridge by Laura Pritchett


Star Wars: Visionaries


The Summer We Got Saved by Pat Cunningham Devoto


Sunny Ward of the State by Sonja Heinze Coryat


Will's Choice by Gail Girffith


Excelsior.

The Future is Now

At least in D.C., anyway.

Future Washington is a new anthology edited by Ernest Lilley, editor for the SFRevu. The volume collects 16 SF tales all based in Washington, D.C.

It's a great idea, one I've actually had myself. I've dreamed of putting together a Fantasy/SF/Horror mag in which all the stories have to take place in the D.C. area. Ideally showing areas, people, and events not normally portrayed in fiction and movies. There's a lot of weirdness in this area, and few writers really play with it beyond the typical stories involving lawyers, politicians or ex-millitary guys with walls full of machine guns. Perhaps if I ever get more publishing clout, it's something I can pursue.

It's a little bit of a letdown that they didn't pull more from local talent. As far as I know, Brenda Clough is the only local writer (she lives down in Prince William County, and teaches at the Writers Center of Bethesda, Md.) represented. Allen Steele has a sister in D.C. (no, I'm not some crazy Allen Steele stalker....I used to work with her in a local art museum), but I don't think that counts. And it's certainly not because there's no SF talent in the area. There's quite a bit, although primarily in the short form. But with such a good idea at play, and notable writers behind them, Future Washington is bound to have some real gems in it. I'm sure I'll do a review when it comes out, so keep looking.

Excelsior.