m. c. de marco

For comic fans, history fans, and comics history fans, the Digital Comics Museum is offering downloads and scans of public domain comic books from the 1940s and ’50s. There are a massive amount of titles and issues available, from Captain Science to Sherlock Holmes to Frisky Fairy Tales to the chaste Sweet Sixteen Magazine, and many, many more. You can also find the very same horror comics that led to the creation of the Comics Code Authority.

Clear some space on your hardrive and dive in. Entertainment from decades gone by can be an amazingly personal window into societal norms of the past that we’ve since rejected, and these comics personify that to a detail you can’t quite find in movies, radio, or television from that era. It’s also fascinating to read these comics knowing that the maturation of the comic book as a storytelling device is just around the corner...

Chris Greenland thinks “Captain Science” is a swell nickname but probably not a swell occupation. Who wants to be in charge of all that science, anyway?

There’s an interesting article by Alom Shaha over on the Guardian’s blog, on why he’s no longer an “angry atheist”. The gist of it is basically that the “preaching” atheists (those who claim loudly that to believe in God is the act of morons) can be as annoying as religious fanatics.
It’s an interesting comparison, and one which reminds me of a conversation I had a while ago over on Gareth’s blog with Cecile Cristofari. Cecile pointed out an article by Tatiana Chernyshova, which explained that

Only a fraction [of people], however, is actually able to explain what e=mc² stand for; and even fewer can understand the theory and explain precisely why it makes sense. The rest of us simply accept scientific facts in the same way as uneducated people in the 19th century accepted the idea that God existed: because competent authorities have said so, but this knowledge still relies on faith, not proof, in spite of the fact that science is supposed to be about proof, not faith.

To me, there’s a fair amount of similarities between atheism, science and religion: they’re all beliefs. Religious faith is the most obvious one; but faith in science (the idea that science can explain and/or control everything) is also one. So is atheism. Some of those beliefs seem more substantiated than others: science seems to work so far at explaining the world around us, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s perfect or even that it’s a good explanation. After all, the medieval Christian mythos also worked pretty well to explain the world ten centuries ago–until it became clear that particular worldview wasn’t equal to the task. At some point, all of those require a leap of faith: that science is an accurate representation of reality, that there is a God and that he spoke through the mouth of prophets or of the Messiah, that there is not and will never be a God.

But as beliefs? They’re not equal. Being a loud atheist is OK; being a loud religious person is… well, generally an embarrassment in most First World nations. Believing in science is reasonable and sensible (in spite of the fact that most people have no idea at all how most of it works or what assumptions it rests on, as Chernyshova points out); believing in God is much less so. As a scientist and a believer, I find it fascinating how some beliefs can end up more valued and/or socially acceptable than others, sometimes to the point of being accepted as gospel truths.

(also, I’m very much fascinated by the idea that faith in science has replaced faith in God, which is worryingly plausible, and possibly explains why I always end up in such acrimonious arguments about the fallibility of science)

PS: I welcome notes and comments on the subject, but could you please try to keep to basic rules of politeness. I have seen the Guardian’s comment thread, and I’m not over-enthusiastic to replicate it here…

Aliette de Bodard is a Computer Engineer who lives and works in France. When not wrestling with Artificial Intelligence problems (aka teaching computers how to analyse what they see), she writes speculative fiction. She is the author of the Aztec fantasy Servant of the Underworld from Angry Robot, and has had short fiction published in Asimov’s, Interzone and the Year’s Best Science Fiction.

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It’s hard not to have heard of Dexter, what with the very popular television show. I don’t mind the show; it’s one of the two or three things I actually watch on the TV. For the time being, though, let’s pretend it doesn’t exist, because I want to talk about why Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter novels are some of my absolute favorite books off of the “mystery/thriller” shelf. (If you’re curious, I also deeply enjoy Gillian Flynn and Chelsea Cain, and you may spy a pattern there.)

But they’re not purely mystery, by my standards, and that’s been one of the best narrative surprises. The construction of the Dark Passenger, especially the depths of which Lindsay explores in the third book, strikes me as… Well, as Dexter might say, secretly speculative. (The alliteration and lyrical games in these books make them a treat for writers, by the way.)

[Bear with me on this. Spoilers ahead, especially if you’ve only seen the TV show]

It would be safe to say that mystery novels about psychic detectives, for example, have a certain level of the speculative. Ditto your ghost-whisperers, magical tattoo artists, and all the other sorts who show up in the cozies. They’re still mystery novels at their heart, and so are the Dexter books, but there’s something else lurking in there, too, in the form of Dexter’s inner guide and monster-friend.

I can’t decide if I’d call the Dark Passenger (or, as Cody refers to his own, Shadow Guy) a science fictional concept or a fantastical concept. It’s described in the third book in very evolutional, scientific terms: these things that have grown up out of people are no longer people, really, and they hunt the regular types—brought on by trauma, generally, but it’s the trauma that opens a door. The Dark Passenger in its reptilian, winged, hissing and chuckling glory is what comes through.

So—it’s definitely speculative. The way Lindsay writes the Passenger wouldn’t necessarily be so if it was limited to Dexter’s internal psychosis. He could imagine anything he wanted; it could be his way of describing the urges he feels as a serial killer. However: every predator in the series with a touch of the Passenger reacts the same way and contains the same Other. They can recognize each other by the rustle of wings and the contact of eyes. If it worked that way in real life, well, I don’t know: would we have more serial killers, or less?

Having just finished the newest book, Dexter is Delicious, I’ve started thinking on this again. What makes a book cross from mystery with speculative elements to full-on speculative fiction? After all, the only speculative element of the series is the Passenger. But, it’s a huge part of the series. Its existence drives the plots of the books, the development of all the characters and how they interact with each other, whether they know that they’re conversing with a “monster” or not.

It seems to me that books cross the line into supernatural noir when there are outwardly distinguishable paranormal agents involved—vampires, werewolves, fairies, whatever. I’d never call the Dexter series supernatural noir—it’s definitely labeled “mystery/thriller” in my head.

But, but... really, they kind of are supernatural, at least in part. I suspect it’s what makes me enjoy them so much, beyond the witty writing. The Dark Passenger is a sibilant whisper for our dashing Dexter, and so it is for the reader, as well. It adds a level of scary, surreal description to the books that the TV show willingly ignores, posits a universe very different from ours in a fundamental way—after all, if all predators have a Dark Passenger guiding them, where do they come from? If they are really alien, Other, what do they want, beyond carnage and satisfaction?

They’re interesting questions. And, if Lindsay chooses to turn the series in a direction to answer them more than solve murders and do detective work, the books might make the jump to a different section of the bookstore.

Genre is such a fun toy.

Brit Mandelo is a multi-fandom geek with a special love for comics and queer literature. She can be found on Twitter and Livejournal.

Welcome to Wednesday Comics Pull-List, here on Tor.com! Every week we post reviews of a select handful of this week’s comic releases. We read less than usual, but loved more than most. One title in particular has Marvel Comics head honcho Joe Quesada proving himself wrong in the most beautiful way possible.

This week’s batch includes:

• Amazing Spider-Man #641
• Batman & Robin #14
• Billy the Kid’s Old Timey Oddies and the Ghastly Fiend of London #1
• The Calling: Cthuhlu Chronicles #3
• Dawn: Not To Touch The Earth
• Daytrippers #10
• Grimm Fairy Tales #50
• John Moore Presents: Dead Soldier #1

[Free amazing spider-hugs]

Amazing Spider-Man #641
Written by Joe Quesada
Art by Paolo Rivera and Joe Quesada
(Marvel Comics)

Chris says: This issue brings the “One Moment In Time” storyline to a close and pretty much answers the lingering questions left behind by the “Brand New Day” reboot.

I gave the “Brand New Day” experiment a chance when it first started as I wasn’t opposed to the ending of the Spider-Man marriage. I felt it was a non-issue, really. Unfortunately, the execution was handled very poorly and the following issues of Amazing Spider-Man just weren’t interesting enough to keep up with.

That said, I’ve really, really enjoyed “One Moment In Time” and I wish the title could pull off this kind of gravitas on a regular basis. Amazing Spider-Man #641 ends on something that I think a lot of folks would consider a cop out, but it feels like an organic conclusion within the story, so I’m willing to give it a pass. (And I’m more than happy to accept imperfection in our heroes if it feels genuine.) Moreover, the conclusion has me thinking about the title long after I finished it, which is always a great sign.

Although, the fact that the most interesting part of the whole 100-issue long “Brand New Day” experiment is the stuff dealing with Peter and MJ’s marriage kind of torpedoes Joe Quesada’s original assertion that the marriage doesn’t work. Funny that he does such a good job here that he ends up proving himself wrong on this point.

Pull?: Definitely. This is a high point of the entire series.

 

Batman & Robin #14
Written by Grant Morrison
Art by Frazer Irving
(DC Comics)

Annie says: I have been waiting for this issue for WEEKS. When DC released the unlettered previews and we saw Damien being taken over by Joker, two things went through my mind: 1.) Damien’s really not going to bash the Joker’s head in, is he? and 2.) holy crap, I have to read this.

The cool thing about this series is the cyclical nature of it. Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne are fighting the two villains who almost destroyed the original Batman, Bruce Wayne. So in a lot of ways it’s déjà vu but in all ways it’s awesome. Frazer Irving absolutely kills these illustrations, they are drenched with evil and encapsulate every emotion Grant Morrison penned onto these pages. Professor Pyg is absolutely demented, certainly one of my favorite villains, and the panel of him hanging upside down from Mother Goat are awe-inspiring.

Pull?: You mean you haven’t already?

 

Billy the Kid’s Old Timey Oddies and the Ghastly Fiend of London #1
Written by Eric Powell
Art by Eric Powell and Kyle Hotz
(Dark Horse)

Annie says: This comic picks up in London in the year 1888, a time where Jack the Ripper is roaming the streets and everyone, but mostly prostitutes, are fearing for their lives. We’re introduced to a rag-tag team of misfits (literally—they’re all sideshow freaks) who travel the world in a vaudeville act and, for some bizarre reason, Billy the Kid is also with them.

Everyone in this comic book is polite and well spoken, stereotypically British, so to speak, except for Billy the Kid, who is as boisterous, rude and ignorant as Americans seem to be portrayed in England. This was frustrating. I get it, he’s a cowboy and he doesn’t give a “hoot” about what other people think of him. He’s just sayin’ what’s on his mind, ya’ll! It’s comedic at times: “Fella, I seen all manner of putridness since I started runnin’ with these folks, but you win the blue ribbon for nasty!” How many times have you wanted to say some variation of that in a bar? Billy might be a good guy to bring out drinking, once. He’s definitely not the type of friend you invite to every occasion, maybe just the ones where you anticipate him making a spectacle of himself.

The problem with this comic is that it’s been done before. I know what you’re thinking and yes, it’s an original spin on a played out equation but the fact is, it’s still a played out equation.

Pull?: I want to say yes, but only for the panel that reads:

Fineas Sproule: “We’ll be in an area where there is an abundance of whores…”

Billy the Kid: “I’M IN!”

Now that I’ve ruined that for you, don’t bother.

 

The Calling: Cthuhlu Chronicles #3
Written by Johanna Stokes & Michael Alan Nelson
Art by Christopher Possenti
(Boom! Studios)

Annie says: Cthulhu Chronicles #2 was wordy and it seems that CthuIhu Chronicles #3 is even more wordy. I was hoping that this issue would retreat to the same vein as the first issue but it seems to have gone off the deep end. To the point where this new character, Stefano, has now confused not only me but all of the other characters in the story as well.

From what I could pull from this issue, The Dreamer was part of an experimental pharmaceutical experiment done by the same company that Clay works for. Then, Clay and Stefano go back to the pharmaceutical company to get more information and end up recruiting two more people to try and stop The Dreamer. So that’s what happened in this comic but it seemed like more information because of a lot of nonsensical banter? It was almost as if the author was trying to make it more than it was. A little disappointing.

Pull?: If you liked the first two issues, might as well. If not, I have a feeling it’s all going to be explained better in the 4th issue.

 

Dawn: Not To Touch The Earth
Writing and Art by Joseph Michael Linsner
(Image)

Chris says: The character of Dawn is the goddess of birth and rebirth, as old as life itself, and as such is always painted by creator Joseph Michael Linsner in the most sexually suggestive manner possible. As a goddess, her actions often revolve around taking lovers and fulfilling her archetypal role. Here, this plays out through an old celtic myth, with Dawn representing a Faerie queen.

The role that Dawn plays in the myth is outdated in the present day and gives Dawn’s actions in Not To Touch The Earth an uncomfortable subtext that I’m not sure was intended. The story begins with an office worker named Darian coming upon a captive Dawn in the woods. He is told to “be a man” by Dawn (a sentiment echoed a few pages before by an awful co-worker) and urged to kill the monster holding her. After that, they step into a dream realm and make love. As one might expect from stories involving Faerie, Darrian eventually meets his end because of his attraction to Dawn, although that end comes off pretty awkwardly.

It’s all very squicky. Dawn chooses her lovers, but otherwise fills a  subservient lover/male wish-fulfillment role, while Darrian is given little to no agency of his own. Nobody’s represented at their best here, and you end up feeling as if you’ve just read an illustrated romance paperback.

The art involving Dawn is, as one expects from Linsner, lusciously detailed. (It’s not hard to see why there are Dawn lookalike contests every year at Dragon*Con.) The story itself is forgettable, which, considering that Dawn books are rare releases, must be frustrating for existing fans.

Pull?: Only if you’re already a fan. The main attraction is more Dawn art, and while there are some great pin-ups at the end of the book, there’s just not enough to justify the $6 price tag for a newcomer.

 

Daytripper #10 (of 10)
Writing and Art by Fabio Moon & Gabriel Bá
(DC Comics / Vertigo)

Chris says: Damn. I wish I’d picked this title up when it started. Daytripper is a ten issue story written and drawn by twin brothers Fabio Moon and Gabriel Bá that picks out ten moments from the life of one man (Brás) and offers them up in service to a central theme: death and the continuation of life. Each issue is meant as a stand-alone story, though reading the entire series is an undoubtedly richer experience.

Fantastic circumstances and special powers are kept to a minimum here, and they’re not present whatsoever in Daytripper #10. This isn’t science fiction, speculative, action-oriented, or anything that you expect from a comic book. It’s just a well told character story. This particular issue focuses on Brás celebrating life after realizing quite matter-of-factly that he is okay with foregoing treatment for his tumors and choosing death. Aging and being a parent figure heavily into this, and even though I’ve personally experienced neither, I felt the resolution in the story brought about by these two experiences to ring simply and truly.

Pull?: Absolutely. Try and find the previous issues, as well.

 

Grimm Fairy Tales #50
Written by Joe Brusha
Art by Ralph Tedesco
(Zenescope Entertainment)

Annie says: There is absolutely nothing wrong with a little guilty pleasure to get you through a short week. Grimm Fairy Tales (GFT) #50 is a semi-perfect balance between action and suspense, with a dash or two of mindless rhetoric to keep it interesting.

The ongoing theme in this comic is choices. The choices Sela’s father made to protect her brother and her from danger frame the story for this issue. More choices are made throughout the story to demonstrate how good Sela actually is. Which is good. She’s really, really good. We get it. To the point where her virtue borders on naiveté. That’s not just my opinion, Sela says so herself: “I have to work on my character evaluation skills.” 

I really liked this comic. I know I’ve been harsh on female main characters before and Sela, more or less, fits into the mold I’ve complained about but she acknowledges her weaknesses and doesn’t pretend to be tougher than she is. I’m all for it.

This comic;s aesthetic is done very effectively. The action sequences are set up in such a way that you almost get sucked in. There’s one full page spread of good versus evil fighting and it’s gorgeous. I’d suggest picking it up just for the artwork.

Pull?: Yes, wholeheartedly, even. Guilty pleasure, people!

 

John Moore Presents: Dead Soldier #1
Written by John Moore & Richie Smith
Art by Dean Hyrapiet
(D.E.)

Annie says: I’m trying to think of a coherent way to write about this comic using actual words instead of acronyms or internet speak but I’m slowly losing control over those abilities because of how unbelievable this comic is. Let’s go with: OMG GUYS! You need to read this! Immediately! Dead Soldiers is DARK. Dark and suspenseful. Dark, suspenseful and, wait for it, well-written. A triple threat!

For a first issue in a series, this is perfect. We’re given just enough information on who the dead soldier is to keep the reader interested, with slivers of really juicy war-time action to keep the action levels up. It’s hard, sometimes, for a 30-something paged comic to keep your interest while narrating an appropriate story but John Moore’s dialogue matched with Dean Hyrapiet’s artwork (which attributes for most of my enthusiasm) is magical. The images are intense; one of the first we see is our beloved dead soldier, Colonel John Donner (who is sarcastic, demonic, and borderline charming) ripping out someone’s heart and then, from what I could tell, eating it. Anyone else finding the characters name a little… appropriate?

We’re plopped down in present day Sudan and taken inside a highly confidential level of the government where U.S. intelligent officials are trying to figure out exactly what Colonel Donner is and what happened to him. Then, something happens and, well… Just read this comic.

Pull?: YES. YES. YES.

Annie Gala is on her New York hustle.

Chris Greenland would use one moment in time to finish his lunch.

“Double identity” is a name I’ve given to a genre of books that people don’t tend to group as a genre. In fact, it’s a trope that can be used in any genre, but I think it’s interesting to consider these books together and see what they have in common, what makes them so fascinating, and how they work.

Double identity is where a character looks so much like somebody else that they could change places, and they do. The Prisoner of Zenda (1894) is a well known example. There are all sorts of variations on the theme, both in science fiction and fantasy and in mainstream novels. There are versions where the double has only a family resemblance and the original is dead, versions where the double is pretending to be a double and is actually the original, versions where almost everybody guesses about the substitution but has their own reasons for keeping quiet, and so on. Some doubles have been well drilled on the family they must deceive, others know literally nothing. The centre of these stories is the masquerade, keeping up the facade, the tightrope walk of pretending to be somebody who looks exactly like you.

[Read more: I give examples and ask for examples]

The books I’m going to be looking at are Josephine Tey’s Brat Farrar (1949), published as a mystery, Daphne Du Maurier’s The Scapegoat (1957), published as a mainstream novel, Mary Stewart’s The Ivy Tree (1961) published as romantic suspense, and Joan Aiken’s Deception, (1988) published as regency romance. I’m probably also going to read The Prisoner of Zenda (1894) which I haven’t read for decades. I may even read George Macdonald Fraser’s Royal Flash (1985), which is one of the weaker Flashman books but which does The Prisoner of Zenda. I shall tag these posts “double identity.” If you have comments on these specific books, try to save them for the individual posts, coming soon.

Of the four I’ve read this weekend the most striking thing they have in common is the way they are about houses and families. None of these books are about royalty, the way Zenda is. The families in all of these books are respectable middle class, with servants. There’s money, but not huge amounts of money. They live in nice houses, and the houses are important. Come to that, all the details of their lives and dinners are significant, and significantly described. Because of the deception, the simplest things become charged with significance and danger. As well as domestic detail, there’s a lot of scenery in these books, and it’s scenery the text approves of.

Another point of commonality, which I only noticed when I was trying to think of more examples, is that the doubles are uniformly the heroes of the books. Trollope’s Is He Popinjoy (1878) is fiction based on the Tichbourne case in which the imposter is strongly disapproved of by the text. But in all of these examples the text is thoroughly on the imposter’s side. The joy of reading them is seeing the character getting away with it, and being constantly aware that at any moment they might plunge into the abyss. You don’t want them to be revealed as false. Generally they do better than the real person would.

The deception in these stories is sympathetic, but it’s something where the protagonist has a choice. They could walk away from it if they chose, yet they keep on with it. Their reasons for this vary, but I think this is one of the defining parameters.

There’s also the inevitable question of revelation. The substitution will at some point have to be revealed, and the way the different books deal with this in different ways—not revealing at all, revealing at different times to different people, discovery without revelation—is one of the things that makes them interesting.

What really draws me to them is the way these stories have a new angle on identity and belonging, and on seeing things from the inside and the outside at the same time.

I’ve already written about Heinlein’s Double Star, which is probably the best known genre example. In Double Star, an actor who is similar but not identical to a politician is hired to impersonate him and essentially becomes him, overcoming his aversion to Martians and changing his political opinions on the way. This is different from most of my examples in that there isn’t a house and a family—Lorenzo is deceiving the public, but those closest to Bonforte know he is an imposter. It doesn’t have the delight in domestic details—never Heinlein’s thing.

I’ve also written about Pamela Dean’s Secret Country (1985). In this, five children from our world take the places of the five royal children of the Hidden Land. They’ve been pretending to be them in games for years, now they have to pretend to be them full time and fool everybody else. There’s a house, there’s domestic detail, there’s the potential abyss and there’s also fantasy plot and magic and unicorns. No wonder I adore these books.

Tarr and Turtledove’s Household Gods (1999) which I posted about recently also kind of fits with this theme. L.A. lawyer Nicole finds herself in the body of Umma, a tavern keeper in Roman Carnuntum. She has to deal with Umma’s slave and children and friends and family as if she were Umma, and with no preparation. This is one of the things that makes the book fascinating. It’s not a deliberate deception though—Nicole has no choice. It’s all part of her passivity, which is the thing that annoys me so much about her.

The best science fiction example is Mark Vorkosigan in Mirror Dance (1994). Mark is a clone of Miles, designed to take Miles’s place and assassinate Miles’s father. He gets away from the plotters who had him made and makes his own plan, which also involves impersonating Miles, at least to start with. Mirror Dance takes this double identity trope and does a lot of really interesting and brilliant things with it. No wonder I love this too.

So, does anybody else have any double identity examples you’d like to throw in? Any genre?

Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published eight novels, most recently Half a Crown and Lifelode, and two poetry collections. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here regularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal where the food and books are more varied.

Escapism gets a lot of bad press. Some mainstream critics use it as a derogatory term when dismissing genre literature; some serious genre writers go to great lengths to  prove that their books are more than “simple” escapism. However, escapism has its place.

Part of the reason we read science fiction is to be transported into new imaginative realms, and this is especially true in cinema. After a hard day of work, what better way to unwind than with an hour and a half of relatively mindless spectacle?

As we’re bombarded with doom-laden news reports and press anxiety over terrorism, global disaster, and societal collapse, films such as Cloverfield, Independence Day, and 28 Days Later provide us with a cathartic release. They enable us to explore our fears in a secure context. While watching the film, we can wonder “what would I do?”, and take reassurance from the fact that the protagonists and their families survive whatever disaster has befallen the world.

And then again, sometimes we just want to see a fleet of spaceships blow the living hell out of famous American landmarks.

In the 1950s, they called these films “B-movies”, and they primarily dealt with society’s fears concerning radiation (The Amazing Colossal Man), nuclear war (The Day The Earth Stood Still) and communism (Invasion of The Body Snatchers). Their modern counterparts, the Hollywood ‘blockbusters’, address our modern concerns in a similar way: with the focus primarily on entertainment.

Yes, they’re sensational and yes they’re frequently implausible; but they have their place. Gritty realism cannot transport us from the day-to-day world. When I’ve been writing all day and I need something to take my mind off the plot for a couple of hours, I don’t want a film I’m going to have to concentrate on, or one that reminds me how grim the real world can be. Instead, I’d rather sit down with a bowl of popcorn to watch Armageddon, Back To The Future, or Aliens.

Do you have films you revisit over and over again? What are your guilty viewing pleasures? Please feel free to share your recommendations in the comments section below.

Gareth L Powell is the author of the novels The Recollection and Silversands, and the short story collection The Last Reef. He is also a regular contributor to Interzone and can be found online at www.garethlpowell.com

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Following the untimely death of her aunt, twice-over orphaned Tessa Gray sets out from New York to London to live with her older brother. Virtually penniless, having spent every last cent to pay for the funeral services, Tessa makes the trip across the Atlantic with her hopes high, for at least she and Nate will be reunited again.

Upon reaching England, however, she is greeted not by her older brother but by two crones that introduce themselves as Mrs. Dark and Mrs. Black, bearing a letter written in Nate’s hand. Though Tessa is reluctant to leave with the “Dark Sisters” (as Nate refers to them in his letter), she trusts in her brother’s wishes, only to find herself trapped in a nightmare. The Dark Sisters, in fact warlocks, claim to have abducted Nate and threaten to kill him unless Tessa complies with their strange demands. Soon, Tessa learns that she is no ordinary human, but possesses the power to transform herself into another person—dead or alive. Even more unique, however, is Tessa’s ability to touch the minds of those whose forms she assumes—recalling a dead girl’s last thoughts and a vampiress’s secrets, amongst others. The Dark Sisters, finally deeming Tessa “ready,” have plans to marry her off to their master, the mysterious “Magister” of the Pandemonium Club, and all hope seems lost for young Tessa…

[Read more]

That is, until a mysterious, handsome young Shadowhunter comes to Tessa’s rescue. Soon she is swooped away again into a new world, seeking refuge with the Shadowhunters—a society of nephilim (that is, the offspring of angels and humans) charged with the duty of protecting humanity from Downworlders (that is, demons, warlocks, vampires, etc) at any cost. Tessa and her brother are keys to a much larger conspiracy, as the Shadowhunters soon discover the Pandemonium Club and its Magister have hatched a plot to rid the world of Shadowhunters altogether, by means nefarious, and mechanical.

Of course, in the midst of all this gloom and doom, Tessa finds time to fall in love with not one but TWO gorgeous Shadowhunters, who (of course!) find Tessa irresistible. Besides trying to save the world and her brother, Tessa also must come to terms with the dictates of her heart.

Clockwork Angel, published by Margaret K. McElderry Books (Simon & Schuster), is the first book I have read from Cassandra Clare (I have been assured that the Mortal Instruments trilogy is not a necessary prerequisite to reading Clockwork Angel), and as an introduction, I must say that I am somewhat… underwhelmed. Ms. Clare’s writing is certainly readable and entertaining, but in the way of bad reality television or MTV shows.

The overarching story—that of the mystery of the Pandemonium Club, the identity of The Magister, and their plans to overthrow the Shadowhunters—lacks complexity and tends towards the hyperdramatic and predictable, but for all that is generally well-paced, fun stuff. Though the quality of the prose and general flow of the novel lacks any sort of writerly finesse in its blunt simplicity and affinity for the cheesiest dialogue I have read in a very long time (i.e. Tessa to The Magister, expressing terror at his desire to marry her: “But why? You don’t love me. You don’t know me. You didn’t even know what I looked like! I could have been hideous!”), the story in itself isn’t bad. That’s not where the brunt of my disappointment with the novel lies.

No, what I take issue with is the novel’s unconvincing period setting, its ridiculous characterizations, and above all, the same Twilightified-Mary Sue heroine meets two superhawt supernatural dudes that fall for her trope.

First, the setting and period. Purportedly, Clockwork Angel is a steampunk novel, although the only real steampunkish thing about it is the time period (set in Victorian London) and the presence of a slew of killer automatons. To me, this does not a true steampunk novel make, as Clockwork Angel lacks either necessary quality (the centrality of steam-powered aesthetic/technology, or the socio-economic critique) to be truly considered a work of the steampunk subgenre. Furthermore, the character dialogue feels as though an American author is trying—unsuccessfully—to write in the Victorian period. In truth, this novel could have taken place in any other time period, in any other country, and it still would have been the same book.

With regard to characterizations, Ms. Clare’s cast in Clockwork Angel similarly leaves much to be desired. Heroine Tessa is nothing if she isn’t a sickening hybrid self-insertion blank page heroine Mary Sue—she’s so very understanding of others’ faults (at one pivotal point in the book, for example, “Tessa felt a wave of frustrated anger, but pushed it back. Sophie had just had a friend die in her arms; she could hardly be blamed for forgetting a key”), mindlessly devoted to her beloved brother (no matter how terribly he has wronged her), generally pretty and tall, with the only drawback to her appearance being how thin and pale she is, and how her hair is brown. Most importantly, Tessa is SUPER!POWERFUL. No one knows what exactly her shapeshifting powers are or what they mean, except that the Magister wants her as his bride and that her abilities have never been seen before. Of course, the Magister isn’t the only one after Tessa—so too is best friend Shadowhunter Will (the dark, sexy, tempestuous bad boy) and Jem (the light, tempered and sensitive good guy). Neither of these boys have any real reason to fall in love with Tessa, but of course they both do, sparking a huge debate in Ms. Clare’s formidable fanbase to the cries of “Team Will!” or “Team Jem!” To that end, I will say that both Will and Jem are decently developed characters with a lot of potential; Will, with his clearly troubled and guarded past, and Jem with his own terminal illness. Both Will and Jem are passably crushworthy, if a reader is so inclined to form literary crushes and fly the Team Will/Jem flag.

The point, however, is that Tessa, the supposed heroine of this story, is not worth rooting for in the slightest. With all the personality of industrial paint, Tessa is as “blank page heroine” as you can get. As YA author Sarah Rees Brennan describes the phenomenon:

[The Blank Page Heroine] is in a lot of books—I don’t mean to pick on romance, because sadly I have seen her in every genre, including my own—and sometimes she seems to be there as a match for the hero who won’t bother him with things like “hobbies” and “opinions.” Sometimes she is carefully featureless (still missing those pesky hobbies and opinions) so that, apparently, the reader can identify with her and slot their own personalities onto a blank page. As I don’t identify with blank pages, I find the whole business disturbing.

What is it about this particular type of heroine, that she keeps popping her nondescript head into genre fiction novels? (O, Stephanie Meyer, what hast thou wrought!?) I prefer characters that are flawed, challenging, and engaging—not soppy, uninspired, oh-so-desirable-for-no-discernable-reason stand-ins.  

Doubtless, there are many fans of this book, the series, and the trope that will disagree with me. But in this reader’s opinion? Clockwork Angel, though not without its entertainment value and high points, left me cold and unimpressed.

Rating: 5/10 - Meh.

FTC Disclosure: This review is based on an advance review copy received from the publisher.

Thea James is one half of the maniacal book review duo behind TheBookSmugglers.com. When she isn’t voraciously devouring the latest and greatest in speculative fiction, she can be found idling time away on Twitter, watching bad horror movies, and making general plans towards world domination.

Pretend for a moment that I didn’t just see Brandon Sanderson for three days at Dragon*Con. Pretend for a moment that I’m not some sort of creepy stalker (along with a half-dozen or so other attendees who were at Dragon*Con) who decided to follow him to Raleigh. No, instead, picture a quaint little bookstore in Raleigh, Quail Ridge Books to be precise, and a civil group of Sanderson fans waiting patiently for the author to appear and read to them. Fortunately for us, he did.

[And he even avoided reading from the phonebook!]

But, let us go back in time a bit. Sanderson fans and Quail Ridge Books started a Facebook movement about a year ago, pleading, demanding, and begging for Brandon to do a signing for The Way of Kings in Raleigh. The idea seemed to take, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Quail Ridge has been host to Robert Jordan himself, as well as David Drake and Orson Scott Card from Tor, and also Terry Brooks from Del Ray. Combine this with the Death Star beam intensity of the “Triangle Area” of North Carolina, and it appears you get an author signing.

Although, it might have been a small part intimidation. Brandon himself told of how the Facebook movement became more and more insistent until his publicist called him and said “Brandon, I think they are going to storm the Tor offices if we don’t send you down there.” This led Brandon to the idea of including three stops on his signing tour that were not very often visited, and thus St. Louis and Orlando, which both likewise started Facebook movements after seeing how successful Raleigh’s was turning out, were added to the tour as well.

And from the crowd at Quail Ridge Books, it was easy to see that Raleigh was very sincere in wanting Brandon there and wanting him back besides. The below picture was taken some twenty minutes before the signing, and the store continued to readily fill. You can’t even see the two banks of chairs on either side of the main one. It was very much standing room only.

Brandon was somewhat chagrined, though, as it turned out there was a decent showing in the audience that had been at Dragon*Con. Not that he wasn’t happy to see us; he was impressed at the turnout himself. No, see, he had planned on repeating his reading from Dragon*Con, where he was able to read out the opening scenes of Towers of Midnight. As he wanted to give us something different, he instead grabbed the display copy of The Way of Kings that was sitting in front of him and started to tell the story of how it has three “cleverly disguised” prologues, defended himself by saying it was still half the length of Robert Jordan’s longest, then read from “Prologue Three” which is labeled “Chapter One.” Alas, he only got through about half of the chapter before he was out of time in the reading portion, but it was still fun listening. I refrained from reading along, as Brandon admitted that he was of the habit to not always exactly say the words on the page as he reads. He’s the author, he reasoned, and could change the way it was written if he wanted to.

After the reading was a short Q&A, where miraculously no one asked Wheel of Time questions in specific, despite the large number of Wheel of Time fans present. Brandon answered each of the questions at length, asides included, and then broke off the questions so he could get to the signing, although he assured us that he would gladly chat with each of us some while signing. And if you are curious, my questions to him both in the Q&A and as he signed my book were about the differences in the editorial process between The Way of Kings and Elantris (I bet ya’ll thought I was going to say Wheel of Time, ha!) His answer was more or less that his pages still bled, but not quite as significantly now as with his first book.

I am remiss that I don’t know entirely how the evening ended. Brandon started signing books around 8:30, and while there were only somewhere between eighty and one hundred people present, he still had a good clip of people left to sign when my book was reached by 10:00. As I had a two hour drive ahead of me to get back to my cave on the coast, and I was still running on some pretty heavy sleep debt from Dragon*Con, I made my farewells and got home.

Brandon had said on his Facebook that Raleigh should be sure to prove he was right to include the “not often visited” stop so that Tor would be willing to possibly send him again, and I think they more than delivered. Raleigh and Quail Ridge books, bravo. You screamed to the sky, and the sky listened.

Aside for anyone wondering: Yes, I am going to do a small series of posts about what went down at Dragon*Con. It isn’t completely like Vegas, some things get out. Just be patient, eh?

Richard Fife is a writer, blogger, totally not a Brandon Sanderson stalker, honest. You can read more of his ramblings and some of his short fiction on http://RichardFife.com. Also, you can follow him on twitter @RichardFife.

I recently had the honor and privilege to visit one of the newest attractions to Universal Studios in Orlando Florida: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. I will share my magical experience with you all, along with a few helpful tips on making the most of your journey with Harry.

When my feet touched the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, I could hear the sweet melody of Hedwig’s theme as I approached the entrance, and truly felt as if I stepped into the fantasy world of the beloved J.K. Rowling created. With one glance from the snow-covered rooftops (that unfortunately did not do much to cool down the 95 degree temperatures) to the rust finish on the castle walls, my dreams of visiting Hogwarts had come finally true.  

[Accio the-rest-of-the-post!]

Tip #1. Avoid the Wizarding World in the early morning, wait until the late afternoon. Trust me on this, I know you die-hard fans are going to make a deadbolt run to the gates of Hogsmeade (like I did) but keep in mind that everyone else in the park will be right behind you. Waiting until the late afternoon when the crowds die down will make for a better experience. Also, the staff is much nicer in the afternoon. Obviously with the thousands of crowds to manage (mostly by teenagers) frustration enviably follows.
One of my complaints pertaining to the authenticity of Wizarding World is that the actual size of the shops are very small. Zonkos, Honeydukes, and the Dervish and Banges are the only stores where you can purchase HP goods within the actual Wizarding World section of the park. Zonkos or Honeydukes are both equally exciting stores to visit, here you can find classic Harry Potter paraphernalia. (My favorites being U-No-Poop and Dumbledore’s favorite candy, Sherbet Lemon.)

As for Dervish and Banges, I felt they should have made this store a little bit bigger, since this is where one can actually purchase wizard robes, mugs, keychains and even a wand. (Especially if you don’t want to wait on the long line, and I mean LONG, line for Ollivander’s Wand shop, which I will explain later) I’m slightly torn because I feel that you do want to experience the world as a Hogwarts student but this is a theme park with thousands of people expected to attend and participate. I do find it to be a little disappointing to wait in line just to get into a store. Unfortunately, I found myself doing that a lot of the time (especially during the morning) with little to no room to move around.

Tip# 2. You can find most of the Harry Potter merchandise in the Universal shops scattered among both parks, as well as the airport! There is a Harry Potter Store inside the Orlando International Airport, so if you forgot to get gifts for any expectant Muggles, chocolate frogs and Gryffindor t-shirts are in steady supply.

Don’t forget to try a butterbeer! Luckily you can purchase butterbeer and pumpkin juice on wheeled carts outside the stores with little to no lines. The frozen butterbeer, which is a cross between a cream soda and butterscotch ice cream, is the perfect treat for those with a sweet tooth on a hot sunny day. Pumpkin juice is a bit of an acquired taste, of course, a love of pumpkins helps a lot here.

On to the rides! And there are only three rides in the Harry Potter theme park. The first and most popular being inside Hogwarts: Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey. I have to give credit to the ride designers on this one...the best part of this ride was waiting in line! About half of your wait is done inside an air-conditioned castle. You pass through Dumbledore’s office, the DADA classroom, the castle hallways complete with talking paintings, the Sorting Hat, and so much more on your way. Take your time and enjoy the sites; almost everything is very interactive and does an excellent job of distracting you from waiting on that long line.

Which brings us to the actual Forbidden Journey ride. If you’re looking for a non-stop action-packed sequence with all the scary and life threatening experiences the trio endured all wrapped up into one three minute wild ride... well, then this is for you! I’m a die-hard rollercoaster fan—I will go on pretty much anything that twists, drops, and tries to pull you apart. Hogwarts is an INTENSE combination of simulated video and animatronics unlike anything I have ever seen. You feel as if you are actually riding with Harry through Hogwarts and have joined him through all of his adventures. (Including a creepy encounter with Aragog, may he rest in peace.)

The second ride I went on was The Dueling Dragons, which is a classic rollercoaster. Here again, waiting in line is all part of the fun. You pass some of the most memorable icons from the movies, including the Triwizard cup and the flying Ford Anglia conveniently parked at the entrance.

I have to admit I skipped the Flight of the Hippogriff, mostly because Hagrid’s hut is visible from the Dueling Dragons wait line and there were simply not enough hours in the day!

After expending all of that energy you will probably need to stop into the Three Broomsticks and have a bite to eat. Luckily, this is one of the places they did expect to accommodate large groups of people. This cafeteria-style eatery has dishes similar to those found in the books, which is mostly traditional English pub food. The quality was—I have to admit—average, and I somehow don’t recall there being a smoked turkey leg in any of the books, but it certainly makes its appearance here in the Three Broomsticks. I felt this was a perfect place to relax with an ice-cold butterbeer and maybe try to solve a Harry Potter mystery or two. For those 21 and older, you can head over to the Hogs Head pub located within Three Broomsticks, a truly authentic pub complete with good old dusty grime! (I’m sure it’s completely clean, but it did look a little grungy.) No firewhiskey, sad to report, but they did have an interesting Hog’s Head Ale.

And now probably the most popular attraction of the park: Ollivander’s! Ollivander’s is actually a show in which they take groups of 30 into a small room that is connected to the Dervish and Banges store. It’s a tight fit! The store is filled ceiling to floor with wands in their boxes, just like you expect it to be—oh, and plenty of dust! This show is made to mimic Harry’s first time shopping for a wand. Only one lucky audience member is chosen to receive a wand during the show and I just happened to be the one!

Here’s what happens: “Ollivander” picks one person out of the crowd, takes out his measuring tape and begins “fitting” you for your wand. (If you’re wondering, it is exactly the same experience Harry has when he buys his first wand.) You are given three wands to “test” out. For the first two when you attempt to perform a spell, “terrible” things happen within the store, like flowers wilting or books tumbling off shelves. But have no fear, because we all know the wand chooses the wizard! For that magic moment when THE wand is placed into your hands, a gush of wind blows through your hair, a beam of light from above shines upon your head, and somewhere in the background you can hear angelic music softly humming into your ears. I promise it’s unforgettable.

Tip #3. I have a little advice if you want to be the lucky person chosen for a wand fitting. BE EXCITED! Now, I don’t recommend running and screaming around the store like a panicked Hippogriff (mostly because you won’t have room to do so), but the actor Ollivander reads the vibe of the room and obviously the people who are most excited and want to be there will be the one he chooses. My advice is to try to get yourself noticed by taking lots of pictures, talking about how excited you are so Ollivander can hear, and making your way to the front as visibly as possible.

As you can tell, Harry Potter holds a special place in my heart and it was a very thrilling experience able to have a small taste of this magical world. My last bit of advice, do allow yourself to believe, even if it’s just for one day. Universal will take care of the rest.

Stephanie Garbarino lives in New York, absolutely hates egg salad sandwiches, and has reconnected with her former love of all things SFF thanks to her job here at tor.com.

Today we were captivated by Arthur Ganson’s Kinetic Sculpture, which features mechanical art involving complex gears, apparatuses, and delicately shaped steel wire all working in tandem to accomplish a task. Some of these tasks are minor, such as the undulation of a bed of rice, and graze the very edge of steampunk, taking that design aesthetic and toning it down into something more muted. Some of these tasks look terribly complex and would fit easily within a steampunk universe, notably so with this chair that walks itself across a landscape.

These two machines only scratch the surface of the artist’s entire installation. You can see Ganson’s full range of videos and machines here.

This is kind of follow-up post to “Gulp or sip,” and like that post it arises from a conversation with a friend. (A different friend. I have a lot of friends who like to read.) This friend said that if she was getting bored with something in a book she’d skip ahead until it got interesting. “How do you know?” I asked. “I skim,” she replied. “If there’s a boring action sequence, or a boring sex scene, I’ll skim until we get back to something interesting.” To clarify—she doesn’t read all the words. She stops reading and just casts her eyes over the text, speed reading occasional phrases until she has missed the bit she doesn’t like. It’s as if she’s re-reading and she decides to skip a thread she didn’t enjoy, except without having ever read it in the first place. Or it’s like the way you might look for a particular bit on a page to quote without getting sucked in to reading the whole thing, except without having read it before. It’s not like the way you can keep reading in your sleep and suddenly realise you didn’t take in the last few pages. It’s a deliberate action—the way in a non-fiction book you might decide to not read a chapter that covers a topic you don’t need. Except, of course, that she does it with fiction, and not to a clearly marked end point, but to where the text gets interesting again.

I never do this. I’ve never even thought of it. It seems really weird to me.

So what I want to know is, do other people do this?

[Read more: I don’t, do you?]

Ugol’s law states that if you ask “Am I the only one who...?” the answer is always no. There are things absolutely nobody does, but if any one person does something, then there are others who also do it. So it seems very likely that it’s not just my friend, and other people do this.

What I want to know is, don’t you miss things? I mean it might look like a boring sex scene, but who knows that the protagonists aren’t going to break off foreplay to discuss the way neutron stars work? (Real example.) Or who knows what clever things the author might be doing in a boring battle scene? Patrick O’Brian uses them for characterisation. If a book is really too dull for me to care what happens, I might put it down altogether, but if it’s interesting enough to keep reading, I can’t imagine just skipping a chunk—nor have I really got a handle on where you’d start reading again. How can you tell? And how do you know you didn’t miss something vital that might have made the whole book make more sense?

I’m talking about reading for pleasure here. I understand how it’s possible to read boring non-fiction for information, and skip the sections labeled as containing no useful information. And I’m mostly talking about reading SF and fantasy, though goodness knows I don’t skim when I’m reading mainstream novels either.

I read in hope of little sparkling moments that are going to turn my head inside out. I increase my chances of getting them by reading the kind of writers who have done that to me before: (Vinge, Delany, Dean, Le Guin, Wilson, Schroeder, Cherryh...) where really skipping even a paragraph might leave you lost and confused at the end. I can see that there are other writers who I enjoy whose work isn’t that dense, but I still don’t want to miss anything. Who knows where that moment might be hidden? It’s either worth reading or it isn’t, I can’t see the point of half-reading it. I can’t understand how that could be fun. If it hasn’t sucked me in so that I want to keep reading it then I might as well be eating broccoli. Or reading something else.

Are there books that have good bits and bad bits so clearly defined that this makes sense as a reading strategy? Why have I never read any of them? (Hypothesis: They’re all about vampires and pirates.) How widespread is this anyway? If you do it, what do you get out of it? And if you’ve done it, do you feel as if you’ve really read the book and can talk about it afterwards?

(Health warning: If you do this skimming thing with my books, please don’t mention it. You might send me into a decline.)

“Welcome Peek...” photo/illustration by Flickr user Liber the poet

Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published eight novels, most recently Half a Crown and Lifelode, and two poetry collections. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here regularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal where the food and books are more varied.

Welcome to the Malazan Re-read of the Fallen! Every post will start off with a summary of events, followed by reaction and commentary by your hosts Bill and Amanda (with Amanda, new to the series, going first), and finally comments from Tor.com readers. In this article, we’ll cover Chapters 18 and 19 of Gardens of the Moon (GotM). Other chapters are here.

Before we get into this week’s summary and commentary, two quick announcements:

One: Amanda is currently on holiday and so is joining us for the first chapter only. (Though I’m sure she’s thinking of all of us, not to mention the impending doom, death, and destruction, while sitting on a beach somewhere. No really, I’m sure she is...)

Two: For those who may have missed it in our last discussion thread, Steven Erikson has graciously made an appearance—despite feeling under the weather—and had a lot to say regarding his writing process. It’s, as one would expect, well worth the read and goes a long way toward explaining why these books are so ripe for re-reading and in-depth discussion. We’ll pause a few moments while you head back to last week’s and peek behind the curtain of Steven’s story-crafting...

Thanks Steven!

[And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

SCENE 1
Whiskeyjack’s squad is discussing plans for Kalam to try and contact the Assassin’s Guild again. Quick Ben tells them he can’t “find” Sorry, which probably means she’s dead. The squad confronts Whiskeyjack with his attempts to stay sane by cutting himself off, taking away his soldiers’ humanity (from his perspective) so he doesn’t think of them as hurtful losses, and that such a method will drive him crazy eventually. Whiskeyjack sees this as an offer of friendship and he acknowledges he is “finally, and after all these years, among friends.”

SCENE 2
Coll and Paran arrive at an entry gate, Coll barely alive. He tells Paran to get him to the Phoenix Inn.

SCENE 3
Rallick continues to climb toward Ocelot in the belfry.

SCENE 4
Coll is unconscious. A guard recognizes him and agrees to help Paran get him to the Inn. Paran’s attention is caught by K’rul’s tower and he sees movement on it.

SCENE 5
Rallick and Ocelot fight. Rallick kills Ocelot but not before taking a blade deep into his chest.

SCENE 6
Paran turns away from the tower, seeing no more movement. The guard gets a wagon for Coll.

SCENE 7
The Tiste Andii Serrat awakens from having been blindsided while she was preparing to attack the woman outside Mammot’s house. She disappears into her warren.

SCENE 8
Meese and Irilta discuss the arrival of Paran and Coll at the Phoenix Inn and that the Eel has told them to keep Crokus and Sorry/Apsalar at the Inn.

SCENE 9
Paran, at the Phoenix Inn bar, considers what to do with his sword. He recalls a tutor telling him once that the gods get you by separating you from others (your human contact) then offering to end the isolation they helped create.

SCENE 10
Kalam arrives in the bar and Paran orders him to get Mallet (the squad healer).

SCENE 11
Mallet and Whiskeyjack arrive. Mallet heals Coll. Paran tells Whiskeyjack he and Tattersail figured out the squad had been set up to be killed and that Tattersail had been killed (“Tayschrenn got to her”). He also tells him he (Paran) is no longer Oponn’s tool though the sword is and that the adjunct has a T’lan Imass with her.

Whiskeyjack uses a magical artifact to contact Dujek. Dujek tells Whiskeyjack that Tayschrenn was “last happy” when Bellurdan and Tattersail killed each other (two more Old Guard down) and is wondering what is going on with Oponn, Rake, Shadowthrone, and some soul-shifted puppet. He also says Laseen is planning on dismantling Dujek’s army and setting him in command over in Seven Cities to deal with an impending rebellion. He informs Whiskeyjack that Lorn and Tool have reached the barrow and that if they release the Jaghut the squad is meant to be among the casualties. Finally, he says the Black Moranth are leaving Pale and Dujek is “ready to move” once Tayschrenn triggers events by disbanding the Bridgeburners.

Paran tells Dujek Toc was tossed into a warren and that Tayschrenn killed Tattersail. He wonders what Dujek and Whiskeyjack intend because he wants vengeance for Tattersail and for the adjunct betrayal of him. Dujek tells Paran the Empire loses Genabackis: the Crimson Guard will repel whatever army Laseen tries to send and the Moranth will no longer be her allies. He also says they’re going to take on a new player—the Pannion Seer—who is “damn nasty.”  Finally, he tells Paran to leave vengeance on Tayschrenn to someone else but feel free to deal with Lorn if he wants.

They break communication and Kalam expresses shock at all the secrets. Whiskeyjack tells him that plans changed when Lorn told Dujek of the reinforcements coming, which proved to Dujek that the Empire wanted the Bridgeburners dead. Whiskeyjack tells Paran Lorn must live to lure the Tyrant into the city, then afterward perhaps she can die.

SCENE 12
In the Jaghut Tyrant’s tomb, Tool tells Lorn they’re looking for a “finnest” as “within it is stored the Jaghut Tyrant’s powers.” When he awakens he will hunt it down. Lorn’s sword will deaden its aura for a while, enough to get it into the city for the Tyrant to get lured into Darujhistan. They leave as the Jaghut begins to awaken.

Amanda’s reaction to Chapter 18:
Oh, Blind Gallan—how you confuse me! He’s talking about Darujhistan, the beautiful blue city, and the spider reference is clearly about a person who is keeping control with a web over the city, knowing everything that is happening. Not sure who this Paralt is, though, or the reference to Power’s gentle balance. Help!

Gosh, the scene with Whiskeyjack and his squad made me want to tear up! There is some wonderful interplay there between the characters, and their faith in their captain really shines through. The fact that they—despite all they’ve been through and faced—want to believe the best in human beings is extremely touching. I love this line:

He saw the caring in their eyes, the open offer to the friendship he’d spent years suppressing. All that time pushing them away, pushing everyone away, and the stubborn bastards just kept on coming back.

It gives a sense a hope, and shows how highly Whiskeyjack is thought of—and also indicates how lonely his existence has been, trying to remain aloof and not make friends, so that he doesn’t have to order them to die.

Crokus treated Coll—does that mean Oponn was trying to take Coll out of the game?

Bill’s reaction to Chapter 18:
I do have some views as to what Blind Gallan (whom we will see later in the flesh, similar to most—all?—of our poets) is referring to, but why jump in front of people eager to respond to your plea for help? So I’ll see you all in the comments thread on this one!

The discussion between the squad and Whiskeyjack continues WJ’s earlier struggle in how to protect his men and himself while keeping his humanity; this battle to retain humanity will play out amongst a host of characters. This could have been cloyingly sentimental, but Erikson manages to avoid it being such while still making it painfully moving. Part of its success I think is in realizing just how long Whiskeyjack has fought this battle; he is clearly not a young man and so this realization, finally, that he is “among friends” evokes happiness for him but also comes with an attendant sense of sadness over its lateness. It also comes with an edge:

He’d seen too much in his life. There’d be no sudden faith in his view of human history, no burgeoning optimism to chase away all the demonic memories of the horrors he’d lived through.

Without those things, this would be a typical sappy Hollywood change of heart, but Erikson is too good to give us that.

Erikson employs one of his usual suspense techniques here, shifting between POVs and scenes quickly so the reader is constantly left wondering. Is Coll going to make it? Is Rallick? Will Paran break the sword? Will Rallick get Mallet in time? Will Mallet be able to heal Coll? Erikson shows some good decision-making as well in breaking up the whirlwind of tension with some humor as Mallet examines the wound and discovers “someone’s stuffed this with herbs!”

We’re also witness to Paran’s continued growth—note how sharply he takes control with Kalam (so much command in his voice that Kalam nearly salutes) and then his command to the innkeep and the warning to the crowd:

“Nobody touch that sword,” he ordered, swinging a glare across everyone in the room. Nobody seemed inclined to challenge him. With a sharp, satisfied nod, the captain ascended the stairs.

This is a far cry from the earlier Paran and a good precursor to what we’ll see from him in the future.

How cool is that K’Chain Che-Malle artifact? (By the way, hoo boy will the K’Chain play a huge role in this series, is this our first mention?) Am I remembering correctly that we never see this again? Anyone? I’m wondering if being able to be in instant contact just ruins too many plot points (much as horror movie folks now have to deal with why nobody just uses a cell phone to call for help).

We get another mention, this one much more substantive in terms of plot if not detail, of the Pannion Seer, as Dujek tells Paran that the army is “readying ourselves” to take the Seer on, which will drive a huge amount of the story coming up.

To the file cabinet, Amanda! This time with the word “finnest”—these will play a major role in the series.

We close on a good “da da duh!” line with “Even now the Jaghut Tyrant stirs,” but I prefer the tragedy of the lines above:

“Tool, they [The Jaghut] weren’t very warlike, were they?  I mean, before your kind sought to destroy them.”

The Imass was slow to reply. “Even then,” he said at last. “The key lay in making them angry . . . “

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SCENE 1
Crokus is getting restless and senses big things are happening. He and Apsalar sneak out from the Inn. Crokus plans on talking to Challice.

SCENE 2
Serrat, waiting on the roof above the Inn, attacks Crokus as he climbs up. A mysterious force drives her away and over the roof’s edge, though she retains her invisibility/flight spells.

SCENE 3
Crokus says he thought he felt/saw something, then shrugs and he and Apsalar continue.

SCENE 4
Rallick gets to Murillio, who’s been waiting for him so they can put their plan into action to kill Turban Orr. Rallick tells him he killed Ocelot but was badly wounded. When they take off his armor, the wound has closed and the Otataral powder has disappeared from his skin. Murillio tells him to still rest due to lost blood while he heads off to confront the Eel, whom he now suspects might be Kruppe

SCENE 5
Kruppe and Baruk are meeting. Baruk tells Kruppe he’s considering finding out who Circle Breaker is because he needs to find the Eel to see if they can work together to save Darujhistan. Kruppe tells Baruk he’ll get the message to him to forestall Circle Breaker being found out.

SCENE 6
Paran tells Whiskeyjack he thinks he’s figured out what Whiskeyjack and Dujek haven’t told him—that they plan on conquering Darujhistan themselves to use its wealth to fight whatever Laseen sends after them in reprisal. Whiskeyjack tells Paran they don’t care what Laseen does as they have bigger and worse fish to fry—the Pannion Seer.

SCENE 7
Lorn leaves Tool to head into the city. She tells him her wound from Murillio is already nearly healed, thanks to her Otataral sword. She plans on seeking Sorry and then the Coin Bearer once she places the finnest in the city. She bemoans the loss of Paran, thinking of her attraction to him. She no longer has second thoughts.

SCENE 8
Crokus and Apsalar entry K’rul’s belfry as a hiding place and discover Ocelot’s body. Crokus sees give winged shapes leaving Moon’s Spawn. Apsalar tells him about the oceans on the real moon and the underwater gardens on it and how one day the chosen will be taken there and there will be no wars or empires or swords.

Bill’s reaction to Chapter 19:
This poem will be pretty clear as to its subject as the “Maker of Paths” is named as such. (So look again if you missed it.)

Is it just me, or is everyone else seriously laughing along with Serrat’s continuing problems?

We had some hints that the Otataral powder would have some strange effects on Rallick and now we learn that it’s had the same quick-healing impact of Lorn’s sword. Even more interesting is that it seems to have “disappeared” from his skin: used up in healing or absorbed internally? Hmmmm...

I like Murillio’s insight into Kruppe being the Eel, but does anyone else get a sense that Baruk has figured it out as well by his conversation with Kruppe? I thought his gaze that “dropped calmly to Kruppe” after Kruppe said he could get a message to the Eel pointed in that direction.

I admit to being a little confused by Whiskeyjack’s conversation with Paran. Since Dujek just told Paran last chapter that the army was getting ready to take on the Pannion Seer, I don’t quite get why Paran doesn’t figure that into his otherwise keen insight into Dujek and Whiskeyjack’s plans and why he asks, “what’s to the south?” Can anyone explain that absence? Did I miss something here?

We also get yet another reference to the impending rebellion in Seven Cities. (Cue book two in three, two, one...)

And I’m just thinking out loud here, but does anyone else think a character saying out loud to him/herself, “Well, dying’s never in anybody’s plan,” is just asking for the irony police to show up down the road?

In the discussion of our last post, several of us mentioned the Malazan soldier’s gift of free thought (at least under Kal/Dassem). Here, with Lorn, we get perhaps a glimpse of why Laseen/Surly fails at Empress. (I’m in the camp of those who do think she fails.) Look at Lorn’s description of a good soldier: 

She realized that the doubts that had plagued her, borne on those dark wings of knowledge, now lay quiescent . . . she knew how to control all that was within her. Years of training, discipline, loyalty, and duty. The virtues of a soldier . . . the weight on her shoulders vanished.

She subsumes her own thought (expressed as doubt) into what appears to me to be mindless loyalty and discipline to a single person ("The Empress’s pleasure . . . would be immense”). And look how she characterizes knowledge, the precursor to thought as “dark wings.” I can’t feel much sympathy for a character who views knowledge as sinister and finds refuge in thoughtlessness. My sense of loss at this Lorn is compounded thanks to Erikson giving us her musing on how she might have had something with Paran, which humanizes her and makes the fall deeper and more poignant.

We’re seeing with Apsalar that despite Cotillion’s eviction, his former presence has left gifts behind: ability to see in darkness, ability to climb, grace, etc. She’ll clearly remain a formidable force, despite the god’s absence.

We close with a focus on the moon, which I liked for a few reasons:

One, we get a link to the title, obviously, though I’m pretty sure much later in the series we’ll get another Gardens of the Moon reference.

Two, I loved the poetic and hopeful bent of Apsalar, after all the poor girl has gone through.

Three, I liked the contrast between that poetic idealism looking at one moon and the imagery of Moon’s spawn: reddish glow, the five dragons coming out to do battle. (And how about that “worm” of fear coming just before we see the dragons?)

Four, an echo for the future when “look at the moon” will mean something wholly different.

Bill Capossere writes short stories and essays, plays ultimate frisbee, teaches as an adjunct English instructor at several local colleges, and writes SF/F reviews for fantasyliterature.com.

Amanda Rutter contributes reviews and a regular World Wide Wednesday post to fantasyliterature.com, as well as reviews for her own site floortoceilingbooks.com (covering more genres than just speculative), Vector Reviews and Hub magazine.

"Written with care and intelligence..."Ian McDonald's The Dervish House is creating a splash. The New York Times calls the work "ambitious," and says that it is "an audacious look at the shift in the power centers of the world and an intense vision of one possible future."

Meanwhile, The Washington Post is even more positive, saying, "Written with care and intelligence, The Dervish House whirls along at a heady pace but still manages to give a deep sense of another place that would be great to visit -- so long as you didn't have to live there"

On September 8, 1966, Star Trek premiered with “The Man Trap,” that classic tale of lonely salt vampires and the crewmen who love them. In celebration, check out Eugene Myers and Torie Atkinson’s inaugural post in the Star Trek rewatch, where I learned that “The Man Trap” was actually the sixth episode filmed. Thank goodness Star Trek went better than that other awesome show set in space and denied its intended pilot by the network!

[whew]

The whole “Man Trap” thing made me poke around a bit into Star Trek airing history. Turns out, Star Trek suffered from low ratings during its first season and was nearly cancelled, but Lucille Ball, chief of Desilu Productions, pulled for the show, and it was given a second season.

And, well, Star Trek suffered from low ratings during its second season and was nearly cancelled, but a massive letter-writing campaign convinced the network to give it a third season. And even though it was cancelled after that, the third season gave Star Trek immortality: it was the magic number that would allow the show to be “stripped,” that is, rerun at the same time every weekday until the heat death of the universe.

I discovered Star Trek during the summer between sophomore and junior years of high school, when I was too old to go to my favorite summer camp and too young to get a job. Flipping through the cable one day, I discovered that Star Trek, the original one, with the guy—who talked—like this, was on from 4:00 to 6:00, Monday to Friday. Bingo. A summer project. My dad used to come upstairs when he heard the theme music and stick around for a few minutes to share memories of the ’70’s; it seems that he’d also discovered Star Trek in weekday syndication long after it was cancelled.

And thus an empire was born. Er, Federation. You know what I mean. So thank the deity or secular humanist principle of your choice for that third season, and live long and prosper (in reruns)!

Megan Messinger sometimes thinks she hears the old guy in 1N watching Star Trek. This would be awesome, except that it means the sound is carrying four floors.

JPod by Douglas Coupland

Edition reviewed: Bloomsbury Paperbacks, 2006; ~550pp; £7.99 RRP – ISBN13: 978-0747585879

My initial response on finishing Coupland’s 2006 novel JPod was less than valedictory, but it deserves qualification: I was relieved to have finished it and glad it hadn’t eaten a large amount of my time, but I’d felt no urge to stop reading it. The fairest and truest thing to say would be that it’s not my sort of novel. Whether this is due to a sort of cultural immune-system reaction to the modern “novel of character” by a mind more accustomed to the biome of science fiction (and its defiantly non-literary concern with plot and story) is an open question. (more…)

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Arthur C. Clarke’s great strength as a writer was the way his vision merged the poetic and the scientific. His great weakness was that he was too nice—he always had a terrible time envisaging conflict, which gave him a hard time with plot.

I know something about Imperial Earth (1975) that most of you don’t, except theoretically. It was once a new book. It’s obvious really, everything was new once. People bought shiny copies of The Fellowship of the Ring in the fifties and waited for the other volumes to come out. But I remember Imperial Earth being new, because I bought the paperback from one of those rotating wire racks of books they used to have in newsagents in the days when dinosaurs roamed the earth and everybody smoked and you could buy a new Arthur C. Clarke paperback and a quarter of Cadbury`s mini eggs and still have change from a pound. I vividly remember taking both the book and the eggs up into the park and sitting on a bench in watery sunlight reading the book and eating the eggs until book and eggs were finished. I still have the book, and I can still taste the eggs when I read it, which must make that one of the best value for money pounds I ever spent. It was the Easter holidays of 1977 and I was twelve. I thought Imperial Earth was one of the best books Clarke had ever written.

[Read more: It isn’t really a classic, but I like it anyway]

Reading it now, it gets astonishing points for all the things old books usually have to get a pass on. It has gay characters, bisexuality is considered normal, there are poly relationships, the main character is a person of color and so are large numbers of the other characters, it contains an older female character, it passes the Bechdel test, the president of the U.S. is female. I’m sure I didn`t notice any of this when I first read it except the nifty blackness of Duncan Makenzie. There’s not much in the way of ethnicity—this is pretty much a post-ethnic world, but as far as skin color goes, darker is considered more aesthetically pleasing. There is one minor character who is a Muslim and a haji. He’s a cloning specialist. There’s one fat bald character—these things are considered to be unusual aesthetic choices because they’re both fixable.

It’s an interesting vision of the universe. It’s utopian—this is a solar system in which all the problems have been solved and everything is nice. There`s no personal wealth, rulers (on Earth anyway) are chosen by lot from those qualified, capitalism has withered away, Earth has been reforested, the planets are being settled, everybody is happy except the odd psychopath. The quincentenniel of the U.S.A. is being celebrated to calm delight. This is really an unusually positive future even for Clarke—Earth has a population of half a billion, the excesses of the twentieth century have been cleaned up, there aren`t actually any problems as such.

Duncan Makenzie is the second clone of Malcolm Makenzie, the ruler of Titan. Malcolm definitely wasn’t chosen by lot, he was the intrepid engineer who figured out a way to make colonizing Titan pay. He nevertheless runs the place benevolently, and not even the opposition have a real problem with him, or his clone Colin, or Colin’s clone Duncan. Duncan goes to Earth to celebrate the quincentenniel and, while he’s there, to get a clone of himself made for the next generation of Makenzies. While he`s there he runs into his old girlfriend Calindy and his old best friend Karl. In a different book, Karl would be a mad scientist and an antagonist. Here he`s a slightly secretive and mildly deranged scientist.

The science is odd at this distance. There`s what appears to be an iPhone, described in detail. There are “comsoles” which are home computers—they contain no moving parts and haven`t changed at all in hundreds of years, but they have monitors and keyboards and they`re networked, so pretty good. The spaceships buzzing between the planets are using new mini-black hole propulsion drives, which might make Titan`s lucrative hydrogen business obsolete and cause economic problems. We have learned a lot more about Titan since this book was written—all the Titan stuff is obsolete, but still nifty. We`ve also discovered the Kuiper Belt since this was written, which again makes some of it obsolete. But, oh well, it was the state of knowledge when he wrote it.

When I was twelve I thought the (so incredibly mild as to be hardly there at all) sex and the relationship between Duncan, Calindy, and Karl was at the heart of the book. I also really liked the spaceship trip from Titan to Earth, and the stuff about SETI was all totally new to me. I was also very impressed by the stuff about cloning—again, totally new. I also credit the pentinimoes with my subsequent obsession with Tetris.

Now, I think the best bit of the book is the descriptions of exotic Titan, which seem perfectly normal  to Duncan, and of perfectly normal Earth, which he sees as exotic and weird. The reversals here are still lovely—Duncan thinks a jet of oxygen burning off in the methane atmosphere is pretty but normal but finds a horse alien and doesn`t know what a butterfly is. I also like the terse conversations between the clones who understand each other too well to need to say things in full—but I don`t for a minute believe that they would really be like that. I think cloned parents and children would have just as many problems as the normal kind. But the emotional feel of the cloning works.

It`s hard to say how much of my enjoyment of this book is nostalgia (like the remembered taste of chocolate) and how much I actually enjoyed reading it. If I read it for the first time now nothing in it would be new and the only thing that would be odd would be how nice everything is. No conflict! The plot really is “What I did on my summer holiday,” and that plot has been done better than this. I notice it isn’t in print, while Clarke’s real classics still are. But I enjoyed reading it again,  in the copy I bought it new when Pan could still say “His great new novel” on the cover. It’s not his best, but even minor Clarke has charm.

Jo Walton is a science fiction and fantasy writer. She’s published eight novels, most recently Half a Crown and Lifelode, and two poetry collections. She reads a lot, and blogs about it here regularly. She comes from Wales but lives in Montreal where the food and books are more varied.

This past weekend was Dragon*Con, that annual event where tens of thousands of attendees, many of them in costume, descend on downtown Atlanta for four days of genre mania each Labor Day weekend. Last year, I attended Dragon*Con as a guest and was blown away by what a book-friendly, age-diverse audience it was, as well as by the staggering number of authors, editors, and publishers also in attendance. Based on that impression, I returned to Dragon*Con this year as an Exhibitor and roped in my Director of Publicity, Jill Maxick, my slush reader Rene Sears, and NINE of our authors.

Sans Instructions!I arrived late Wednesday night, in order to be on sight to set up our booth bright and early Thursday morning. We had a corner table in room 1601 of the Marriott Marquis' Imperial Ballroom, which was a tremendous location (and put us across the aisle from the very cool guys working the Utilikilt booth. I admit I was tempted, but didn't succumb. Maybe next year).  The Pyr booth itself hasn't been used since the 2005 San Diego Comic Con. It's a very cool design, a wireframe scaffolding that accordians up from a tightly packed container-friendly size, held in place by segmented bars which are themselves lined with magnetic strips to hold the velcro-friendly walls of the booth. The whole thing fits in an oval shaped black box that doubles as a display stand. Of course, the packaging comes without any instructions of any kind, so assembling it on my lonesome Thursday morning, with only vague memories of having done this with help in 2005, had a fair share of "what the hell am I supposed to do with this?" moments. I admit, though, that it was sort of a fun puzzle-challenge, and the whole set up (including book display) only took from about 10am to 4:20 pm. (Only!)

The Pyr booth, before opening.Thursday night itself was a rewarding meal (serving as both my lunch and dinner) at Max Lager's with Sam Sykes, Clay and Susan Griffith, John Picacio, and Jill Maxick. This was my first time meeting Sam, Clay and Susan, and I was delighted to discover they are all wonderful people (I already knew this about John and Jill). Then Friday morning, Jill and I returned to the Exhibitor Hall where she proceeded to build the artfully arranged stack of Pyr Sampler Books (we had 1046 in all) and we made final preparations for the imminent crowd.

The Electric Boogaloo.Straight up: It was a grueling con, from running a booth for four days (1pm to 7pm on Friday, 10am to 7pm on Sat and Sunday, 10am to 5pm on Monday) while also participating in programming, and still trying to get face time in with my people (six of whom I was meeting for the first time in the flesh). It was a slog to drive down late Wednesday night and then work the show until Monday night. Probably one of the hardest shows I've worked, and I did it with just three hours sleep most nights. And it was hard on my long-suffering family to be without me for so long. So, was it worth it?

Middle Earth Mardi GrasThe convention was incredible!!! It has to be seen to be believed. The number of attendees I heard floating around was 65,000 and I could believe that or more. It comprises five hotels, with attendees staying in another five or so official overflow hotels, and quite a few other hotels in the neighborhood or thereabouts. I know they had 32,000 preregistered attendees as of last year's con, and that the registration lines for on-site registration were over THREE HOURS LONG. The only real way to describe Dragon*Con is like Spring Break in a Fantasy World or some sort of Middle Earth Mardi Gras. The hotels are jammed packed, particularly in the evening, where the lobbies of all the hotels are just unnavigable seas of bodies, many of them wearing little more than furs and duct tape.

Yep yep yep...uh huh uh huh!But unlike the San Diego Comic Con, which is much more of an Expo for Big Media Movies and Games, and whose value (at least for me) lies in the business meetings you can take with your opposite numbers in sister industries in the bars and restaurants across the street, Dragon*Con has much more of the feel of a fan-run convention that has simply grown to ginormous proportions, which it is. What I discovered last year and had confirmed this year is that there is a HUGE & RECEPTIVE BOOK AUDIENCE at this convention, and one that spans a broad age spectrum. (I shared an elevator with a young girl dressed as Alice who was panicking that she was late, late - for a very important date? irony lost on her - for the fantasy LITERATURE panel. Not the manga panel or the Warcraft panel but the literature panel! She was not atypical in this interest for her age range at the show.)

You will buy my bookAs aforementioned, we had made special for the con a Pyr Sampler Book, as well as a limited edition lapel pin celebrating our 5th anniversary. We gave out all 1046 of the Pyr Sampler Books. In fact, they had disappeared by Saturday morning, in no small part due to the efforts of Sam Sykes, who fostered them on people in a manner which was described by James Enge as Sykes "free from any sense of mercy, compelled people to take the free stuff. In compensation, he let them buy a book every once in a while." We have also gone through all but about 250 of our 2000 Pyr 5th Anniversary Lapel Pins by Monday afternoon. We introduced the Pyr brand to thousands of people. And we sold a hell of a lot of books.
Monday Morning - not even over!
One of the most amazing things to me personally was how effective the Pyr Sampler Book was. Most of them disappeared on Friday, and Saturday morning, literally scores of people came up to us (that day and all the other days too actually) saying they'd read the Sampler Book and they wanted to pick up this book or that book. I was astounded. We assumed people would take these things home to peruse them at their leisure. But they read them Friday night? "Weren't you out there drinking with the 65,000 other people?" I asked one young guy, who didn't seem like the type to pass on this Toklienesque Fort Lauderdale. "Yeah, man," he replied. "I drank till 3:30am, then came back drunk and read your book until 5am. Can I get Tome of the Undergates?

Mars Attacks!Friday night at 7pm we had a Pyr Books Presents panel, complete with all nine attending authors: Mike Resnick, Jon Sprunk, Sam Sykes, Clay and Susan Griffith, James Enge, Erin Hoffman, Andrew Mayer, and Ari Marmell. Given how many there were of us, they each got 4 minutes thirty seconds to talk about their books while I flashed the cover image on a screen. Even this rigid time constraint took most of the hour, but left about 10 minutes for audience questions. We heard all weekend how great the panel was, and lots of people who came to the booth on Saturday, Sunday and Monday said they came because of this (and the two art panels I did, both of which also featured Dragon*Con special guest John Picacio).

Dinner with the Winner!In celebration of our fifth birthday (March of this year), we had previously held a "Pyr and Dragons Adventure Contest," for which fans were invited to submit a short essay on the theme Five Reasons Why Science Fiction And Fantasy Is Important To You." First prize was a trip for two to Dragon*Con and dinner with a group of Pyr authors (as well as myself and Jill). Lisa Iriarte won the contest - you can read her essay here. Lisa teaches seventh-grade language arts and has recently written what she hopes will become her first published novel, Assassin's Nightmare. She and her husband Joe joined myself, Jill Maxick, Mike Resnick, his wife Carol, James Enge (and daughter), Jon Sprunk, and Sam Sykes for dinner at Sear in the Marriott. Lisa and Joe were both very nice. Really sweet people, both with aspirations of writing, and Mike Resnick's unending font of amusing anecdotes about the business was spot on for the makings of a special evening.

The Amazing Clay and Susan Griffith.We sold out of limited number of copies of Mark Hodders' The Strange Affair of Spring Heeled Jack we had with us very early on, as well as all the copies of Jasper Kent's Twelve, and the 100 Free ARCs of The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire Book One) were a hot ticket item on Saturday. I don't think we could have had too many copies of these book on hand for this show, where steampunk and vampires are so very king. And The Society of Steam stickers that Andrew Mayer himself made in promotion of his May 2011 title also proved to be EXTREMELY popular.

"I know this music."Saturday night, a group of us, which included Tor art director Irene Gallo, stayed up entirely entirely too late. Too late is defined as 2:15am when one has to get up three hours later at 5:15am for the Live Hugo Awards Breakfast. Organized by Stu Segal, the breakfast featured "LOU ANDERS (4 time Hugo Nominated editor), KATE BAKER (podcast director for the twice nominated Clarkesworld), EUGIE FOSTER (Nebula Award Winner), MARY ROBINETTE KOWAL (Campbell Award winner), FARAH MENDLESOHN (Hugo winner, and current nominee), JOHN PICACIO (Winner of the World Fantasy, Chesley and Int'l Horror Guild Awards and 6-time Hugo nominee) and STEPHEN H. SEGAL (Hugo winner, and current nominee)." I'm enormously touched by those few fans who braved the early morning hours to watch all but Kate Baker lose in real time! (Also touched by Robert J Sawyer, who came by later to bring me the Hugo Voting Report, so I could see that I was first in nominations, and second place in the final round!) This was followed by Stu's Stroll with the Stars, a leisurely one hour walk around the neighborhood. Sunday morning's stroll was "Pyr themed", though at least two of our authors overslept, including one who had buggered off from the bar before the rest of us despite not having to get up at 5am. At any rate, Sam, you know who the real man is.

Sprunk, Anders, Sykes.Having authors in the booth made a huge difference. Sam Sykes had sold out all copies of Tome of the Undergates by Sunday morning. (I say "Sam had sold" not "we had sold" because Sam has a very healthy sense of competition and was determined to insure by any means necessary that he sold out first. See James Enge's aforementioned comment about Sykes and mercy.) Jon Sprunk was right behind him though, despite a much more understated presence. In fact, I sold a lot of Shadow's Son on Monday, after Sprunk had left, to people who told me they were buying the book because they'd talked to Jon over the weekend and "he was just such a nice guy" that they wanted to. James Enge was also a tremendously nice guy. So nice that he spent more time recommending other authors' Pyr books in favor of his own, but we still managed to sell out of his WFC award nominated Blood of Ambrose by end of day Monday.

James Enge wants you.Clay and Susan Griffith were invaluable. They are former booksellers who volunteered their time and expertise. They brought us food, they worked the booth, they hand sold, and they helped with take down in the evenings. They were incredible. I'd also asked my slush reader/editorial assistant Rene Sears to help out "just for a few hours when I'm on panels." Instead, when we got there and saw what a madhouse it was, we ended up leaning on her heavily. She worked the booth for most of the con, right up until Midday Monday. I cannot stress how amazing she was. Nor how impossible the weekend would have been without her.

Sunday night was another dinner at Max Lager's, where I got to sit down and spend real time with James Enge, and then it was off to the Marriott first and then the Hyatt for more beer. I ended the evening sitting between Mike Resnick on my right and Todd Lockwood on my left. Mike was giving agent advice to my friend David Alastair Hayden and Todd was giving artistic advice to Ian Randall Mackey,  my friend and cousin's husband, who is looking to launch a career in concept illustration. It was really gratifying to just sit there and watch my friends help my friends.

Cooper, a trooper.I was amazed to see that the crowd, although a little thinner than on the weekend, hadn't thinned out appreciably on Monday, which proved to be a really strong sales day. Jill had flown back the previous evening, so it was myself, Rene Sears, and Clay and Susan Griffith working the booth. And my good friends, the aforementioned David Alastair Hayden and his wife Cooper Chun were there as well. Cooper took our bowl of 5th Anniversary Lapel Pins and stood in the aisle a little ways away from the booth, offering people the pins, explaining to them what the pins were for, and directing them our way. She stood there all afternoon, giving a perfect sales pitch. (David calls her his Pepper Potts. And it's no insult. When the rest of us were staring at the scaffolding of the booth, wondering how to disassemble it, she stepped forward, studied it for two minutes with hands on hips, and then said, "you just press here" and then the whole thing accordioned down to the floor. Cooper makes things work.) We had five people in addition to myself helping with take down and reboxing, and what took me six and a half hours plus to do on my own took well under 2 hours with their help.
Bats and Cats
And that really characterized the convention for me. With a "Little Help From My Friends" could have been the theme song. I had never met Sprunk, Sykes, the Griffiths, Marmell, or Enge before and now they are all fast friends. Clay remarked one evening when I thanked him for all the help in the booth "We felt like we were part of the Marvel Bullpen during the high Silver Age!" We learned a lot, and we could run an even better booth next year based on these learnings, but what I really learned was that we have the greatest authors and friends in the whole wide world. And that, as long as they are there with you, the Mardis Gras of Middle Earth is a great place to be.

I had a surreal moment at my bookstore day-job recently: a regular customer whom I am accustomed to recommending urban fantasy books and various and sundry SF came in to shop. She was looking for Carrie Vaughn things, and I suggested to her a few anthologies with Vaughn short stories, because the customer already had all of her books.

She said to me, “Oh, I don’t buy those. I don’t like short stuff.”

I was baffled. Visibly, I imagine, because she gave me an odd look. I couldn’t help but argue back that no, really, she was missing out on so much! She did not agree. I probably shouldn’t argue with customers about their reading preferences, but… really? I had finally met one of those people that writers and publishers bemoan—the ones who won’t buy short fiction. How many more of them are there, I wonder? I always hear that the short story is dying and the anthology is an unsalable format, but I can’t quite believe it.

Certainly, our store in the past year has seen a huge uptick in sales of anthologies in the SFF section. I know for a fact that we’ve been sent more of them from our suppliers: in the first year I worked at this bookstore, I had to special-order every single anthology I wanted. We didn’t receive more than one or two. (I work for a Waldenbooks, and so our stock is pre-decided by the Borders buyers.)

[This year, on the other hand…]

This year, on the other hand, we’ve received one or two new anthologies every couple of weeks. Of course, we’re only being sent one or two copies of these new anthologies—one of which generally goes to me, sorry customers—but we’re getting them. And we’re selling them out, generally. This must be true company-wide, or else they wouldn’t send us any more; after all, one tiny Kentucky store hardly affects the overall sales trends enough to skew what they decide to buy. Ergo, Borders must be selling more anthologies, and more anthologies seem to be coming out.

The overall quality seems to be higher, too. Out of the eleven or so anthologies I’ve read cover-to-cover so far this year, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all of them. (I’m still working my way slowly and with pleasure through a few, like The Year’s Best Science Fiction—I prefer to read both a novel and an anthology at the same time, so the anthologies take longer.) The increase of attention to inclusiveness, diversity and exploration of more than just “my angst, let me show you it” has definitely pleased me; maybe my selections have skewed my opinion, but most of the things I’ve read have been fairly representative of the variety of people in SFF.

I think there are definitive, traceable reasons for that, one of them being the internet and interactive fandom. When an anthology does things like include no women or people of color, etc.—people notice, and people say something. The availability of easier online publishing with a huge readership and cheaper production costs has introduced so many new writers to audiences who wouldn’t have seen them otherwise. Our own Tor.com, for example, has been responsible for publishing some great stories in the past two years that have gone on to win awards, show up in best-of anthologies, you name it.

The rise of smaller publishers to prominence in chain bookstores contributes, too. Night Shade and Prime Books both publish a large amount of anthologies, themed and not. I’ve been impressed consistently with the quality of Night Shade’s work—John Joseph Adams is a talented editor and he has a way of grouping stories that really works for me. They’ve also picked up a Datlow-edited Year’s Best Horror to make up for her discontinued series, Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. Prime has picked up some of the slack in publishing Best-of anthologies: they offer both a Year’s Best Fantasy and Science Fiction and a Year’s Best Dark Fantasy and Horror now. Not to mention, Prime is as of this year publishing a Hugo Award Showcase (of the 2009 Hugos, I have hopes that next year there’ll be a second edition), and that seriously gains my appreciation. While most of the stories are available every year online, being able to buy an actual showcase is fantastic. (They also published The Bone Key by Sarah Monette, an absolute all-time favorite of mine, reviewed here.)

While they’ve both had, shall we say, a bit of public misbehavior in recent years regarding their contributors, they’re also providing an outlet for short fiction that’s been extremely useful for many readers. As far as quality of production, Night Shade outstrips Prime, who are prone to typographical errors and formatting mistakes that lose them brownie points with me. (I do love the fact that they’re publishing these anthologies and I absolutely think they’re worth buying and supporting, but I’d also like a bit more attention to the simple polishing aspects of the job—page break errors and typos aren’t cool.)

Outside of Best-ofs, I’ve read some excellent themed anthologies this year. Far and above a favorite of mine is Ekaterina Sedia’s Running with the Pack, which is one of the most subject-diverse anthologies about werewolves I’ve ever seen. Queer werewolves, young and middle-aged and old werewolves, werewolves with varying economic situations, bad werewolves and good werewolves, werewolves of color—it was quite the experience. The Sedia anthology makes a point of the fact that an editor doesn’t have to “force” diversity as some people have badly, badly attempted to argue in the past. It’s not about forcing, and diversity only made the anthology better, more rich and awesome. (End soapbox.) Not to mention, it ended on one of the saddest stories I’ve ever read and left me dejected for hours. That’s actually a good thing, if you were wondering.

Not to stop there, either: it’s been a good few years for single-author collections, as this year’s World Fantasy nominees can attest. Peter S. Beagle and Gene Wolfe both recently had collections come out, and I’m so torn about which to vote for. They’re both great. The Best of Gene Wolfe is a gorgeous hardcover (also available in trade paperback now, but mine is hardcover) from Tor. So, don’t let me steal the attention from the big presses when it comes to anthologies. They’ve been doing the work, too.

(A side-note: I special-order stocked the trade of the Gene Wolfe collection at my store, expecting only the other employees to buy it, and a very excited man brought it up to the counter thanking us profusely for carrying it. Apparently, he’d been trying to find a copy in a store for months. I still get a pleased glow thinking about that, really. There are many perks to working in a bookstore, namely the shared joy of uniting someone with their perfect book, which you can’t get anywhere else.)

And that’s just a few of the anthologies I’ve read and loved this year.

The short story really is a careful, twisty, wonderful art-form entirely different from the novel. I hope the first customer I told you about in this post eventually changes her mind—she really is missing out on all this bounty. In the meantime, I just thought I’d share with you a little bit of my love-affair with anthologies.

So, here’s the call to arms that one obligatorily has to include in any post about great books: go buy an anthology sometime soon. Support the editors collecting them, the writers contributing to them, and the publishers who are taking the leap and putting them out. Support your local bookstores, even the chains, if you see them carrying anthologies.

If we buy them, more will come.

Brit Mandelo is a multi-fandom geek with a special love for comics and queer literature. She can be found on Twitter and Livejournal.

 

He’s old this time. A hospital gown sags over his gaunt frame. IV wires stream from his arms, plugging him into a thousand machines. I could tear them out one by one.

I ask, “Do you know who I am?”

He rolls his head back and forth, trying to see. His eyes are pale with cataracts, roosting in nests of wrinkles. He gestures me closer, skin thin to the point of translucence, veins tunneling below.

Recognition strikes. “You’re that boy I hurt. . . . All grown up. . . .”

[Read more...]

By most accounts, the publishing industry has been having a tough time of late, having to adapt to increased competition from the Internet and video games; falling sales; and the explosion of self-publishing and print-on-demand technologies. In addition, publishers are searching for ways to make e-books attractive and profitable, and like music publishers before them, they need to come up with new business models and new revenue opportunities.

One such opportunity is the inclusion of advertising in books, both print and electronic, and there are two ways this could happen:

• Firstly, traditional ads could be included in the end pages of books, much as the old mail order ads for x-ray specs and sea monkeys used to be included in the backs of American comic books.

• Secondly, and this is perhaps more interesting, interactive hyperlinks could be included within the actual text of the book itself.

If a character in the book drinks a particular brand of soft drink, a link could be included to a promotional landing page on that company’s website; or if the action takes place in New York or San Francisco, links could be included to hotels or tourist attractions in those cities.

Would this kind of advertising work, or would it put off more readers than it attracted, leading to further falls in sales? Could it revolutionise the publishing industry, or would it lead to less variety as advertisers pay only for space in books by big-name authors, leaving books by new writers struggling to attract finance?

Would you buy a book with advertising included in it, or does the very idea repulse you? Can you foresee advertising becoming ubiquitous in literature, or do you have alternative suggestions for the future of the publishing industry?

I’d like to hear your thoughts…

Gareth L Powell is the author of the novels The Recollection and Silversands, and the short story collection The Last Reef. He is also a regular contributor to Interzone and can be found online at www.garethlpowell.com

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