Yep, here's the rundown at Torque Control, the BSFA site.
I am not suprised to see The City & The City on there, nor am I surprised to see Yellow Blue Tibia. In retrospect, I am not surprised that Spirit made it to the shortlist, either but I'd read this last year and kinda forgotten about it.
I was expecting to see Moxyland there (I have it in my bag to read next, right after I finish The City & The City - I'll post about this one on Friday) as the outlier-designed-to-annoy-traditionalists, but it looks like that position has been taken by Far North, a novel I'd not heard of before now. The list is rounded out by Kim Stanley Robinson's Gallieo's Dream and Retribution Falls by Chris Wooding.
Out of the three I've read, I'd say The City & The City is the clear favourite in my eyes. I'm kinda foxed by Spirit, though, as being not-my-kinda-thing I'm perhaps a little blinded by its finer qualities (although the middle section where the heroine is imprisoned is as fine and moving as writing gets, I'd say).
I've got to go to the bookshop at lunch time anyway (to search out a copy of Sticker Dressing Dolly Popstars, which is inelligible for the award as it was published in 2008), so I'll pick one of the three I haven't read to read on holiday. My wife's gonna start thinking of sectioning me as my bibliomania spirals out of control. And the pile - she is growing, with Moxyland now joining The Still Point and Beyond Black on my bedside table. Don't hassle me man!
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Short Fiction Wednesday
Two diverse stories this week. The first is Trombul has Fallen by Dale Carrothers, from Afterburn SF. Afterburn publish "action oriented" SF according to their submissions guidlines, are currently publishing a story every fortnight. This story is set shortly after the fall of a despot of a rather Eastern European flavour. A couple of elements clue us in that this is set in the near future, but the story of tyrants and their cruelty and vanity is a timeless one.
Carrothers shows a good eye for a dramatic incident, and the story packs a strong emotional punch is quite exciting. It's a rather trad style of story, hinging to an extent on telepathic powers which are kind of out of style compared to old days of Slan and Foundation, or the work of Philip K Dick and Alfred Bester, where telepathy was treated as a plausible, even inevitable development.
Next up from Serendipity, which appears to be closed now, but Bishop Patteson's Crocodiles by Lavie Tidhar is part of the final issue "best of " round up. I met Lavie a few times while he was living in London at SF related gigs, and one time snuck him into the London launch of Stephen king's Lisey's Story a few years back. He's a good chap, and I've previously reviewed his novella An Occupation of Angels, which is also worth a look.
I was interested in this one by Lavie's use of pidgin, which features prominentily in the middle section of my current novel. Lavie doesn't write the whole story in pidgin - which would be a struggle to read and a near herculean task to write! - but drops in smatterings of it here and there. It has a slightly unworldy narrative voice, but Lavie is sensitive enough to prevent it sliding into a parody. The narrator tells his story in his own voice, gentle, perceptive and convincing.
Carrothers shows a good eye for a dramatic incident, and the story packs a strong emotional punch is quite exciting. It's a rather trad style of story, hinging to an extent on telepathic powers which are kind of out of style compared to old days of Slan and Foundation, or the work of Philip K Dick and Alfred Bester, where telepathy was treated as a plausible, even inevitable development.
Next up from Serendipity, which appears to be closed now, but Bishop Patteson's Crocodiles by Lavie Tidhar is part of the final issue "best of " round up. I met Lavie a few times while he was living in London at SF related gigs, and one time snuck him into the London launch of Stephen king's Lisey's Story a few years back. He's a good chap, and I've previously reviewed his novella An Occupation of Angels, which is also worth a look.
I was interested in this one by Lavie's use of pidgin, which features prominentily in the middle section of my current novel. Lavie doesn't write the whole story in pidgin - which would be a struggle to read and a near herculean task to write! - but drops in smatterings of it here and there. It has a slightly unworldy narrative voice, but Lavie is sensitive enough to prevent it sliding into a parody. The narrator tells his story in his own voice, gentle, perceptive and convincing.
Sunday, 28 March 2010
The Complete Ro-Busters
I rarely buy books new, and then hardly ever from a bricks and mortar bookshop, but sometimes need and opportunity coincide to such a degree that I find myself plonking my money down. When I saw The Complete Ro-Busters in Waterstones at Canary Wharf, I knew I was going to buy it, even if it took me a couple of days to convince myself to do it. Fifteen quid is not a small amount for a book, especially one I've already read (technically speaking), and so I can only conclude that the psychological impulses at work were particularly acute in this case.
I could try and pick them apart, but I'm pretty sure they're tied up with a mid-life crisis that's brewing or, perhaps, right now in full swing. After all mad people don't realise they're acting wierd, do they? It all seems totally normal at the time with careful rationales and comprehensible, if dotty, reasoning. I suppose I should be grateful that my insanity is expressing itself through the purchase of slightly expensive nostalgia rather than, say, massacering my work colleagues with a pair of scissors.
Anyway, Ro-Busters is particularly resonant to me of youthful ambitions. It came at a time in 2000AD's history when it was just beginning to move from playful subversion of boys comics cliches to making real breakthroughs in the types of art and story possible for British mainstream comics. At the same time, I was in my early teens and moving from kid's books to the adolescent world of golden age sci fi, and 2000AD seemed to be growing up alongside me. While much has been said about the developing satirical sophistication of Judge Dredd during the 1980s and 1990s (probably too much, IMO, although that's maybe an issue I will address when an increasingly desperate desire to recapture my youth drives me to buy the multi-volume Judge Dredd files) and Mills's ABC Warriors/Nemesis stories (also definite candidates for volumes to be found next to me in the car with the hose pipe going from the exhaust to the window) are considered benchmarks here, but I think the whole development is contained very nicely within the pages of this volume.
Ro-Busters starts with its "robot Thunderbirds" concept very clearly stated, but right from the start the heroism with a strongly cynical undercurrent. Howard Quartz, Mr 10 Per Cent, is no John Tracy: he doesn't care much for the people he saves and even less for the robots that save them. Bought as scrap, they are treated as machines but have all the personality and characteristics of human beings. They do what they're told and act with honour and bravery that all the humans seemingly lack. It's a classic kids fiction scenario, with the robots standing in for the feeling of powerlessness and naive clear-sightedness of children.
Do you think we're the bad guys?
When the thrill moved to 2000AD, it takes this children's eye view of the underdogs world and gives it a very political twist. Ro-Jaws's life story is clearly based on the children's classic Black Beauty, but when you replace the real-life horses of Anna Sewell's day with intelligent robots, the story takes on a more overtly political context. The obvious parallel is slavery, and the Fall & Rise of Ro-Jaws and Hammer-Stein story line draws these parallels very clearly, but it also has a more topical resonance in Britain in the eighties, with hardworking and naive workers being harassed by a police in league with their capitalist exploiters. The Robot Interception Patrol - RIP - take wicked delight in kicking and bashing robots and are uniformed in the same kind of nazi deaths-head nazi regalia Mitchell & Webb joked about.
Overt political messages stay just the right side of universal. The story of Charlie, the gigantic robot ships pilot who works at the docks in "Northpool", a generic Northern sea port sees salt-of-the-Earth workers led by a fiery preist do battle with wicked developers to save their jobs. Ro-Jaws and Hammer-Stein don't appear in this story, and in fact Ro-Busters are really the bad guys here: the developers have hired the Ro-Busters "Terra-Meks" to destory the city and lay tarmac over the land for a new space port. It was first published in 1979, but the theme of redveloping docklands and images of workers men fighting with police for their jobs looks very prescient now.
I remember loving this one at the time, but I don't recall getting the political context. To be fair, I was a twelve yeard old living in Titahi Bay New Zealand, I was a million miles away from this. I just loved the romantic heroic tale. It's brilliantly told by Mills and Gibbons, combining superb dynamic mega-machine wrestling with a stirring story of heroism and sacrifice.
Dave Gibbons and Pat Mills cheering on Charlie the robot dock worker nearly killed by Thatcher
It's not very subtle, but it synchronised exactly with changes in what I was reading and the way I was reading, drawing in particular on Asimov's robot stories, which I was discovering for the first time back then. 2000AD in its classic period had the same unconstrained quality that I used to enjoy in golden age SF. No one's too bothered if the world building doesn't make much sense, and the story makes more of an emotional impact on the themes of inequality and exploitation rather than being a speculative piece about the limits and consequences of artificial intelligence.
Part of that quailty comes down to the art, of course, and here we can see a handful of the great 2000AD artists reaching their prime. The fantastic character designs are by Kevin O'Neil, and fan favourites Dave Gibbons and Mike MaMahon both provide fantastic work here. The lesser known artists who take on the Ro-Busters also provide great work, notably Mike Dorey and Carlos Pino, who drew their early strips and set the tone for much of what followed with terrific page layouts that emphasise the big-screen drama of the disaster stories. O'Neil, McMahon and Dorey really pull out all the stops for the final Fall & Rise of Ro-Jaws & Hammer-Stein story, providing art that's loaded with wit and pathos.
Robots tying one on - terrific character design from Kevin O'Neil
I'm really pleased I gave into the bad chemicals that compelled me to buy this. It's a terrific reminder of where I started and to the aesthetic foundations of my own character and writing. Ro-Busters raises serious points within the parameters of broad satiric comedy. It's a story told with sympathy and emotion and brilliant visual flair. 2000AD really didn't get much better than this.
I could try and pick them apart, but I'm pretty sure they're tied up with a mid-life crisis that's brewing or, perhaps, right now in full swing. After all mad people don't realise they're acting wierd, do they? It all seems totally normal at the time with careful rationales and comprehensible, if dotty, reasoning. I suppose I should be grateful that my insanity is expressing itself through the purchase of slightly expensive nostalgia rather than, say, massacering my work colleagues with a pair of scissors.
Anyway, Ro-Busters is particularly resonant to me of youthful ambitions. It came at a time in 2000AD's history when it was just beginning to move from playful subversion of boys comics cliches to making real breakthroughs in the types of art and story possible for British mainstream comics. At the same time, I was in my early teens and moving from kid's books to the adolescent world of golden age sci fi, and 2000AD seemed to be growing up alongside me. While much has been said about the developing satirical sophistication of Judge Dredd during the 1980s and 1990s (probably too much, IMO, although that's maybe an issue I will address when an increasingly desperate desire to recapture my youth drives me to buy the multi-volume Judge Dredd files) and Mills's ABC Warriors/Nemesis stories (also definite candidates for volumes to be found next to me in the car with the hose pipe going from the exhaust to the window) are considered benchmarks here, but I think the whole development is contained very nicely within the pages of this volume.
Ro-Busters starts with its "robot Thunderbirds" concept very clearly stated, but right from the start the heroism with a strongly cynical undercurrent. Howard Quartz, Mr 10 Per Cent, is no John Tracy: he doesn't care much for the people he saves and even less for the robots that save them. Bought as scrap, they are treated as machines but have all the personality and characteristics of human beings. They do what they're told and act with honour and bravery that all the humans seemingly lack. It's a classic kids fiction scenario, with the robots standing in for the feeling of powerlessness and naive clear-sightedness of children.
Do you think we're the bad guys?
When the thrill moved to 2000AD, it takes this children's eye view of the underdogs world and gives it a very political twist. Ro-Jaws's life story is clearly based on the children's classic Black Beauty, but when you replace the real-life horses of Anna Sewell's day with intelligent robots, the story takes on a more overtly political context. The obvious parallel is slavery, and the Fall & Rise of Ro-Jaws and Hammer-Stein story line draws these parallels very clearly, but it also has a more topical resonance in Britain in the eighties, with hardworking and naive workers being harassed by a police in league with their capitalist exploiters. The Robot Interception Patrol - RIP - take wicked delight in kicking and bashing robots and are uniformed in the same kind of nazi deaths-head nazi regalia Mitchell & Webb joked about.
Overt political messages stay just the right side of universal. The story of Charlie, the gigantic robot ships pilot who works at the docks in "Northpool", a generic Northern sea port sees salt-of-the-Earth workers led by a fiery preist do battle with wicked developers to save their jobs. Ro-Jaws and Hammer-Stein don't appear in this story, and in fact Ro-Busters are really the bad guys here: the developers have hired the Ro-Busters "Terra-Meks" to destory the city and lay tarmac over the land for a new space port. It was first published in 1979, but the theme of redveloping docklands and images of workers men fighting with police for their jobs looks very prescient now.
I remember loving this one at the time, but I don't recall getting the political context. To be fair, I was a twelve yeard old living in Titahi Bay New Zealand, I was a million miles away from this. I just loved the romantic heroic tale. It's brilliantly told by Mills and Gibbons, combining superb dynamic mega-machine wrestling with a stirring story of heroism and sacrifice.
Dave Gibbons and Pat Mills cheering on Charlie the robot dock worker nearly killed by Thatcher
It's not very subtle, but it synchronised exactly with changes in what I was reading and the way I was reading, drawing in particular on Asimov's robot stories, which I was discovering for the first time back then. 2000AD in its classic period had the same unconstrained quality that I used to enjoy in golden age SF. No one's too bothered if the world building doesn't make much sense, and the story makes more of an emotional impact on the themes of inequality and exploitation rather than being a speculative piece about the limits and consequences of artificial intelligence.
Part of that quailty comes down to the art, of course, and here we can see a handful of the great 2000AD artists reaching their prime. The fantastic character designs are by Kevin O'Neil, and fan favourites Dave Gibbons and Mike MaMahon both provide fantastic work here. The lesser known artists who take on the Ro-Busters also provide great work, notably Mike Dorey and Carlos Pino, who drew their early strips and set the tone for much of what followed with terrific page layouts that emphasise the big-screen drama of the disaster stories. O'Neil, McMahon and Dorey really pull out all the stops for the final Fall & Rise of Ro-Jaws & Hammer-Stein story, providing art that's loaded with wit and pathos.
Robots tying one on - terrific character design from Kevin O'Neil
I'm really pleased I gave into the bad chemicals that compelled me to buy this. It's a terrific reminder of where I started and to the aesthetic foundations of my own character and writing. Ro-Busters raises serious points within the parameters of broad satiric comedy. It's a story told with sympathy and emotion and brilliant visual flair. 2000AD really didn't get much better than this.
Friday, 26 March 2010
Brilliant letter from David Mamet to the writers of The Unit
Okay, I don't watch the unit or any shows like that really, and I understand that prose and screenwriting are different disciplines. However, there's something here for... well, maybe not every writer but certainly for me.
Really, I was just thinking about this very thing last night.
The bad news:
However:
This one makes me think of Rogue Moon:
And finally:
Plus, I'm pretty certain that Dave does speak entirely in capital letters.
QUESTION:WHAT IS DRAMA? DRAMA, AGAIN, IS THE QUEST OF THE HERO TO OVERCOME THOSE THINGS WHICH PREVENT HIM FROM ACHIEVING A SPECIFIC, *ACUTE* GOAL.
SO: WE, THE WRITERS, MUST ASK OURSELVES *OF EVERY SCENE* THESE THREE QUESTIONS.
1) WHO WANTS WHAT?
2) WHAT HAPPENS IF HER DON’T GET IT?
3) WHY NOW?
THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS ARE LITMUS PAPER. APPLY THEM, AND THEIR ANSWER WILL TELL YOU IF THE SCENE IS DRAMATIC OR NOT.
Really, I was just thinking about this very thing last night.
THE JOB OF THE DRAMATIST IS TO MAKE THE AUDIENCE WONDER WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. *NOT* TO EXPLAIN TO THEM WHAT JUST HAPPENED, OR TO*SUGGEST* TO THEM WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.
The bad news:
*HOW* DOES ONE STRIKE THE BALANCE BETWEEN WITHHOLDING AND VOUCHSAFING INFORMATION? *THAT* IS THE ESSENTIAL TASK OF THE DRAMATIST. AND THE ABILITY TO *DO* THAT IS WHAT SEPARATES YOU FROM THE LESSER SPECIES IN THEIR BLUE SUITS.
However:
START, EVERY TIME, WITH THIS INVIOLABLE RULE: THE *SCENE MUST BE DRAMATIC*. it must start because the hero HAS A PROBLEM, AND IT MUST CULMINATE WITH THE HERO FINDING HIM OR HERSELF EITHER THWARTED OR EDUCATED THAT ANOTHER WAY EXISTS.
This one makes me think of Rogue Moon:
IF YOU PRETEND THE CHARACTERS CANT SPEAK, AND WRITE A SILENT MOVIE, YOU WILL BE WRITING GREAT DRAMA.
And finally:
I CLOSE WITH THE ONE THOUGHT: LOOK AT THE *SCENE* AND ASK YOURSELF “IS IT DRAMATIC? IS IT *ESSENTIAL*? DOES IT ADVANCE THE PLOT?
ANSWER TRUTHFULLY.
IF THE ANSWER IS “NO” WRITE IT AGAIN OR THROW IT OUT.
Plus, I'm pretty certain that Dave does speak entirely in capital letters.
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Words fail me!
Take a look at this Guardian interview with comics writer Mark Millar.
Seriously, where to begin?
EDIT: Actually, off the top of my head, comics writers since Spider-Man's legendary creator Stan Lee who are more powerful influences than Mark Millar will ever be:
Roy Thomas
Steve Gerber
Denny O'Neil
Marv Wolfman
Alan Moore
John Wagner
Pat Mills
Neil Gaiman
Grant Morrison
I say this as a fan of the Ultimates (vols 1 & 2). When he's on, Millar's a fine writer. He is not, and never will be, as influential as any of the names above (most of whom paved the way for his own variety of ... material). This is a scientifically proven fact.
"On the page, Millar's outlandish plotlines have made him the art form's most powerful influence since Spider-Man's legendary co-creator Stan Lee."
Seriously, where to begin?
EDIT: Actually, off the top of my head, comics writers since Spider-Man's legendary creator Stan Lee who are more powerful influences than Mark Millar will ever be:
Roy Thomas
Steve Gerber
Denny O'Neil
Marv Wolfman
Alan Moore
John Wagner
Pat Mills
Neil Gaiman
Grant Morrison
I say this as a fan of the Ultimates (vols 1 & 2). When he's on, Millar's a fine writer. He is not, and never will be, as influential as any of the names above (most of whom paved the way for his own variety of ... material). This is a scientifically proven fact.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Short Fiction Wednesday
Two very different stories this week. I don't plan along themes or ideas when I choose stories, and in fact, the whole process is embarrasingly random: I use the fiction sidebar on Futurismic to choose a venue, poke around, see if the content catches my eye and then choose somethihg from the contents. I don't choose anything too long - I'm not reading novellas or even novellettes. I don't comment on the presentation of the stories because I don't read them online. In fact, I copy the text into a Word doc, that's formatted in the style I find easiet to read, and print them out (at work - sh!). It takes me an hour or so to read a couple of stories - I can do it between eating my lunch and the commute home - and another hour or so to ponder and write about them. Fascinating! Let's get on with the stories.
Like last week's publishers, Subterranean Press produce an online fiction zine to help publicise their print products, a print magazine and expensive collectiable editions from well-known writers and fan favourites. It's similar to the model of PS Publishing, but PS is print only. They feature a lot of well-known names in their online offering, and the winter 2010 issue from which this story comes, includes stories from Ian R McLeod, John Scalzi, Kage Baker and Brian Lumley.
Harboring Pearls: A Lucifer Jones Story, is not really fantasy or SF, but a kind of a yarn, a tall tail that makes me think of Damon Runyon or mid-century American humourists. The central charatcter and narrator is a kind of roguish wise fool, which is a hard thing to pull off without it sounding like an annoying Mary Sue. Authors are not roguish brawlers and card sharps, by and large, and when they try to pretend to be they can come unstuck. It requires a kind of affectionate mocking tone necessary to avoid the protagonist becoming a Mary Sue, and successful examples of it are George McDonald Fraser's Flashman and Vance's Cugel. Both these characters are nicely undercut by their authors, balancing the character's self regard with the author's more aware stance on the character. Resnick provides a strong example of the genre here, with crosses and double crosses that leave the central character finally unstuck. It's a gentle, genial story, and I gather part of a series relating to the Lucifer Jones character. I did feel like I missed a bit of continuity jokes, but the tale lived up to its genre and the voice flowed easily and convincingly.
Mindflights is also planning to release print anthologies, but the print side seems less dynamic than the online fiction output. Mindflights decribe themselves as striving "to provide quality fiction, poetry, and exposition, all in means that respects traditional values and Christian principles." It's an interesting market distinction to take, but there's aalways been a vigorous strand in SF that adrresses Christianity rather than ignoring it or lampooning it through subtle or not so subtle fantasy analogies.
It's another tricky genre, of course, and I can understand how materialistic cynics (of which I am one) might be nervous about the genre. Doug Kolacki's The Never People demonstrates, however, that Christian and fantastical themes can be successfully intertwined to create fascinating and insightful fiction.
The Never People addresses a character question: how would you explain to a bunch of immortals the idea of going to heaven? How does it feel to die when everyone around you lives forever? We're not interested in the whys and wherefores here - the world of the immortals is only lightly portrayed - the immortals live in a kind of edenic eternal bliss, childlike and filled with joy and love for the world, and Leo doesn't do a lot of exploring of their world. We never find out what this place is - is it the future? another planet? another dimension? Could it be Heaven itself? THe immortals themselves are childlike and naive, ready to accept everything Leo tells them, but one suspects only lightly. With no concept of death or pain they don't really understand the Crucifiction.
At the heart of this story is Leo, at first confused, then angry and finally accepting at being thrust from our world into the world of the immortals without explanation. The story resonates deeply with Christian themes - Eden and the fall, the Crucifiction and the resurrection - but it never asks us explicitly to believe in Chirstianity. This is to the story's great credit, as it explores the ideas of sacrifice and resurrection implicitly and never asks us to believe the metaphysics of Christianity while giving us great insight into Christian ideas.
Like last week's publishers, Subterranean Press produce an online fiction zine to help publicise their print products, a print magazine and expensive collectiable editions from well-known writers and fan favourites. It's similar to the model of PS Publishing, but PS is print only. They feature a lot of well-known names in their online offering, and the winter 2010 issue from which this story comes, includes stories from Ian R McLeod, John Scalzi, Kage Baker and Brian Lumley.
Harboring Pearls: A Lucifer Jones Story, is not really fantasy or SF, but a kind of a yarn, a tall tail that makes me think of Damon Runyon or mid-century American humourists. The central charatcter and narrator is a kind of roguish wise fool, which is a hard thing to pull off without it sounding like an annoying Mary Sue. Authors are not roguish brawlers and card sharps, by and large, and when they try to pretend to be they can come unstuck. It requires a kind of affectionate mocking tone necessary to avoid the protagonist becoming a Mary Sue, and successful examples of it are George McDonald Fraser's Flashman and Vance's Cugel. Both these characters are nicely undercut by their authors, balancing the character's self regard with the author's more aware stance on the character. Resnick provides a strong example of the genre here, with crosses and double crosses that leave the central character finally unstuck. It's a gentle, genial story, and I gather part of a series relating to the Lucifer Jones character. I did feel like I missed a bit of continuity jokes, but the tale lived up to its genre and the voice flowed easily and convincingly.
Mindflights is also planning to release print anthologies, but the print side seems less dynamic than the online fiction output. Mindflights decribe themselves as striving "to provide quality fiction, poetry, and exposition, all in means that respects traditional values and Christian principles." It's an interesting market distinction to take, but there's aalways been a vigorous strand in SF that adrresses Christianity rather than ignoring it or lampooning it through subtle or not so subtle fantasy analogies.
It's another tricky genre, of course, and I can understand how materialistic cynics (of which I am one) might be nervous about the genre. Doug Kolacki's The Never People demonstrates, however, that Christian and fantastical themes can be successfully intertwined to create fascinating and insightful fiction.
The Never People addresses a character question: how would you explain to a bunch of immortals the idea of going to heaven? How does it feel to die when everyone around you lives forever? We're not interested in the whys and wherefores here - the world of the immortals is only lightly portrayed - the immortals live in a kind of edenic eternal bliss, childlike and filled with joy and love for the world, and Leo doesn't do a lot of exploring of their world. We never find out what this place is - is it the future? another planet? another dimension? Could it be Heaven itself? THe immortals themselves are childlike and naive, ready to accept everything Leo tells them, but one suspects only lightly. With no concept of death or pain they don't really understand the Crucifiction.
At the heart of this story is Leo, at first confused, then angry and finally accepting at being thrust from our world into the world of the immortals without explanation. The story resonates deeply with Christian themes - Eden and the fall, the Crucifiction and the resurrection - but it never asks us explicitly to believe in Chirstianity. This is to the story's great credit, as it explores the ideas of sacrifice and resurrection implicitly and never asks us to believe the metaphysics of Christianity while giving us great insight into Christian ideas.
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