Hûw Steer's Blog, page 28

Festive Reading List: Not Actually That Festive

My to-be-read pile has grown significantly over the last month or two – partly because of people giving me a few books for my birthday, and partly because I also have a Kindle and no literary impulse control. But I’ll try and get through a chunk of my ‘Unread’ folder and my physical pile before and over Christmas – because there’s a significant possibility that I might get even more books…

Spoils of War: Tales of the Apt, Book 1

Adrian Tchaikovsky is a fantastic author, and Shadows of the Apt is one of my favourite book series of all. I’ve read all 10 books several times over, but I’ve long been wanting to read more from the world of the Insect-Kinden. Conveniently, there are several books of short stories that I haven’t gotten to yet!

Saga: Volume 8

Saga is probably the most gorgeous graphic series I’ve ever read – the story of Marko and Alana is brilliantly written and beautifully illustrated. Can’t wait to read the next instalment.

Carried Away (Sparrow #4)

Ethan Haines’ latest Sparrow book promises to be just as weird and wonderful as the rest – and, it seems, appropriately themed for these troubled times…

Rhythm of War (Stormlight Archive #4)

I love Brandon Sanderon’s Cosmere, and the next brick of a book in the series is finally here. I can’t wait to dive back into Roshar and all the surrounding worlds – Sanderson’s worldbuilding is seriously second to none.

Shoreline of Infinity #19

No, this isn’t just vanity – though my ‘Blank Slates’ is hiding in this lovely book, there are lots of other fantastic stories in there too. I’ve only read Ballantyne and Beckett’s ‘The Silent Woods’ so far, but it was a brilliantly chilling piece, and I’m looking forward to getting stuck into the rest.

What have you got to read – and what books are you hoping to get for Christmas?

(if you haven’t got any literary plans may I suggest one of the lovely books in the sidebar?)

Suddenly I’m In Stuff

I don’t know. You spend months slogging away at your keyboard, writing and submitting short stories and novels and all manner of writings that never see the light of day… and then suddenly two of them get accepted at once.

I posted last week about being published in the latest issue of Shoreline of Infinity – which you can now buy, incidentally, if you want to look at the lovely artwork by Tsu and also maybe read the story – something I’m very excited about. Just waiting for my copy to arrive…

But earlier this week I had another bit of good news. I mentioned back in August (or seventeen years ago) that I was entering a competition by Grimdark Magazine, sponsored by the excellent Matt Ward.

I dusted off a very old short story I wrote (for some history homework back in Year 8, I think), threw away everything but 50% of the basic concept and then wrote a nice harrowing 4000 words about a plague doctor having a generally miserable time.

I entered the competition. And then I won it. So that’s pretty cool.

‘The Only Cure’ will, all being well, be appearing in the 25th issue of Grimdark, coming out on the 15th of January next year. So if you want to keep the spirit of pandemic going into 2021, save the date.

And if you’re writing too, don’t give up. Good things come to those who wait, and those who keep on trying. Even if you’re waiting and trying a long time.

Lockdown 2: Isolation Boogaloo #4 – Everyone Keeps Dying

David Prowse died last night. He was 85, so it was a good run, in fairness, but still. It seems like a lot of good people have been getting old lately. But the rest of those people weren’t Darth Vader.

[image error]Image from Wookiepedia

Ok, so Prowse wasn’t all of Vader. He was the man in the costume for the first three Star Wars films. He was the man who read all Vader’s lines to the other actors – in a West Country accent. He didn’t actually end up voicing Vader, of course – though apparently he didn’t find out he’d been replaced until he actually watched the premiere of the film (which was a bit of a crappy thing for George Lucas to do).

From the documentary ‘Empire of Dreams’ (2004)

But he was still Vader. For all three of the original films, it was Prowse who loomed over Mark Hamill, who dominated every one of Vader’s scenes with his massive frame. It was also Prowse who apparently kept breaking prop lightsaber blades in all the fight scenes (he wasn’t a very good swordsman). It was Prowse who threw the Emperor down that bottomless pit. Prowse might not have been Vader’s voice (or even his face), but he was still Darth Vader.

It’s a sad thing to lose him. The original Star Wars cast has started to grow thin in the last few years: Kenny Baker, Peter Mayhew, Carrie Fisher, and now Prowse. And as I mentioned earlier a lot of other people have been getting old lately – Sean Connery for one.

But I did come across this when I was looking up Prowse’s life. He got together with musician Jayce Lewis back in 2015 – he was actually Lewis’ PR manager for many years – and after some technical wizardry and a bit of recording, they finally turned Prowse’s voice into Darth Vader’s. It was a long time coming. You can watch the results below.

May the Force be with you.

‘From the Force’s Mouth’, by Jayce Lewis and David Prowse (2015)

Lockdown 2: Isolation Boogaloo #3 – The Bar Fight Method

As Untitled Blackbird and the Ghost Book 2 grows ever-larger and further out of my actual control, I’ve been struggling a little to create a world that feels real. But I do, thankfully, have a trio of what seem like very nicely-formed characters on my hands, and in my view it’s good characters that are the most important part of any story. Better than plot, better than setting – the best characters are the ones who you can basically drop in any setting you like – the ones who will pick themselves up, look around, and make the plot happen themselves.

The introduction of a character is the most important moment in their story. That’s where you have to sum up who they are and what they do in just a few words, where you have to hook the reader as best you can. The introduction is often the absolute make or break – if you’re going to make an audience care about a character, you need to do it when they first meet.

I once wrote an essay back in college about character introductions. I talked about The Dark Tower, and I think I talked about Neuromancer. What I didn’t talk about, because there was a very low word limit, was what I was then convinced was the absolute best way to introduce a character (and what I still think is a pretty good intellectual exercise for figuring out how a character ticks): the bar fight. This section didn’t end up in the essay. But I wrote it anyway.

So, here you go. Please forgive me. I wrote most of this when I was 17, and while I’ve tweaked a few bits it’s still mostly in that voice. I hope I’ve improved as a writer since then…

Every writer has his or her own favourite method of introducing a character. Some use a long, descriptive paragraph which sets out some of the character’s particular traits. Others use a single sentence which sums up the personality of that character, and allow more depth to be explored as the narrative progresses, like Stephen King in the Dark Tower. Some writers will introduce a character from the perspective of others, like Mario Puzo’s introduction of Don Corleone in The Godfather, and some will provide a situation in which the prudent aspects of a character are revealed through the reader’s own observation. I tend towards the latter – and one of my favourite situations in which to place a new character is a bar fight.

A bar fight reveals many different things about a character. Firstly, the period before the fight can be used to show how the character behaves in a relaxed environment – i.e. the pub. Many aspects of the personality can be shown in the way the character reacts to their surroundings – are they relaxed and conversational, or content to sit alone in a quiet corner? Their social status can be measured by the friends they arrive with – or do not arrive with – and how they interact with the other patrons. Another important thing to look for is what the character is drinking. They might be teetotal, or they might be downing shots of whiskey left and right – but, if so, why? Are they trying to impress friends or romantic interests, or is their drink simply their favourite poison? How drunk is the character, and for what reason – sadness, pleasure, or a special occasion? By showing the reader these aspects of a character, the writer can provide an underlying personality to that character in a very commonplace environment.

Secondly, a bar fight shows how a character deals with the imminent fight – do they antagonise their opponents, or do they try for a peaceful solution – or do they ignore the situation altogether, and stick to their drink? This allows the writer to display the inherent aggressiveness of their character, as well as the extent of their wit and cunning. If the character insults someone, is it crude or devastatingly silver-tongued? Importantly, were they the one to start the fight, and if so, how? Are they capable of using mere words to incite violence? This also allows the writer to begin showing the relative bravery of their character, by showing whether that character’s reaction to imminent violence is one of avoidance or acceptance, or even aggravation.

Thirdly, and important most of all in the fantasy genre, is the character any good at fighting? The reaction to the outbreak of violence can be used to show an inherent skill with most fighting styles, or an inherent tendency to be rubbish. The fight itself can show how a character is affected by alcohol; whether the lowered inhibitions improve their reactions and increase their ferocity, or whether the character is so drunk that they can’t walk in a straight line. If the character is some kind of master swordsman and martial artist, their willingness to use their skills on a possibly drunken adversary can be used to show innate aggressive tendencies or, indeed, a more peaceful nature and a reluctance to use force. This reluctance can then be exploited by careful use of insults, attacks and numbers of opponents to find the breaking point of the character’s reluctance to act, either by direct insults to the character themselves or by attacking others – is the character willing to step in to aid someone else, thus showing an altruistic or protective aspect of their personality? This last point is extremely important in introducing a hero, who will usually step in to help the weak, or an antihero, who will most likely do nothing and carry on drinking.

Finally comes the aftermath of the fight. The way in which the character reacts to having won – or lost – is important to obtaining a full picture of their persona. If the character wins, are they magnanimous in victory, seeking to help their defeated opponent, or will they leave him in the dust? The ‘help’ can be a simple hand, a round of drinks bought or something similar. Equally, is the character gracious in defeat, accepting the helping hand or reprimand and doing something equally charitable, or are they angry, upset, or vengeful? Some characters might seek to use underhand methods to gain a dirty victory after the fight seems over. Some characters may be forced to react to such methods, and whether they use violence or words to avoid such an attack gives further insight into their character.

A bar fight is a way to show off showing almost every aspect of a character – their courage, their social interactions, their honour, pride and kindness. Perhaps especially useful in fantasy, it brings out the best – and worst – in the complex nature of the human being.

New Story – Shoreline of Infinity

Issue 19 of Scotland’s fines SF magazine Shoreline of Infinity launches on the 30th… and, by some strange clerical error, I appear to be in it.

[image error]All image credit to Shoreline. Fantastic art.

‘Blank Slates’ is very nearly a classic futuristic bank heist… nearly. This team of thieves never liked each other to begin with… and they like each other even less when they’re all stuck in the same head. The story’s also been given some beautiful illustrations by the excellent Tsu – it’s a beautiful visualisation and I can’t wait to see it in print.

I’m really excited to get my hands on this. If you want to read it too, you can pre-order the magazine at Shoreline‘s website here, in print or digitally. Release is November 30th.

I’m excited. Hope some of you are too.

And it’s out the week after my birthday, which is a very nice surprise present indeed.

Lockdown 2: Isolation Boogaloo #2 – Something Out of Nothing

The Borderlands series, among other things, is frequently praised for its wacky humour and surprisingly serious storytelling. It’s a great blend of over-the-top action and well-realised characters.

Or at least that’s what I’m told. Because until this week the only game in the series I’d played was the original. And the story in the first Borderlands… doesn’t really exist.

There is a lot of great worldbuilding. The giant corporations that ominously pull strings in the background, the gangs of raiders who ravage Pandora, the concept of the mysterious and invaluable Vaults – all of that is really nicely set up in the game. Those few characters who you can actually talk to and have conversations with about the world hint at further background too; arms dealers and bandits and dodgy doctors. The environments are gorgeous too, and huge. The setting – the world – is well-constructed.

But it feels… empty. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing – in contrast to the zany, over-the-top humour of the later games, the atmosphere of the original Borderlands is bleak. You wander alone across a colossal wasteland on a selfish quest, gunning down bandits and wild beasts and mercenaries. You have few friends, and those you do have honestly aren’t really friends at all – they’re just vendors who are better off doing business with you than trying to kill you. Borderlands is dark. It’s desolate. When you get shot and die (and you do, often), you die alone.

[image error]It’s big, it’s bleak, and it’s brilliant.

But there’s also really not much of a plot to go in this bleak world. There is a main questline, revolving around you trying to get to the Vault and some other people trying to get there first, but you can play for whole stretches of the game without encountering a mainline mission, and when you do you might not even realise it. When cutscenes do pop up and give you a little burst of story, they’re ok. But they’re nothing special. The actual plot of Borderlands is practically nonexistent. Which, again, isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it’s a sandbox game, where you just go out and shoot stuff and get loot and repeat.

But I was always confused when people praised the storytelling in the rest of the series – because I never really saw any.

Then I started Tales From The Borderlands. And I found it.

I’ll clarify at the start that I’ve only just started the game – I’m one episode in – but what a start. The game brings in its core cast – wannabe cut-throat executive Rhys and his friends – straight away, not wasting time on anything but the bare minimum of background before they’re hurling themselves into an elaborate scheme to steal a priceless alien artefact and get one over on their murderous boss. It helps that the voice acting is also brilliant – including none other than Patrick Warburton, voice of Kronk in The Emperor’s New Groove, as the aforementioned arsehole boss.

[image error]Oh yeah. It’s all coming together.

Obviously, a game format that’s literally narrative with a few quick-time events is set up to have storytelling leaps and bounds ahead of most other games (not that all such games do, of course), but it’s still an amazing contrast – and it shows the importance of that initial worldbuilding. If I hadn’t played Borderlands, if I didn’t know what Pandora was like, what the endless risks of walking around that world were and how incredible the rewards could be, then Tales‘ introduction wouldn’t have had anything like as much meaning.

It also helps that Rhys and the other characters (well, not all of them, but I don’t want to spoil anything here…) are ‘everymen’. They’re executives, living and working on a floating satellite near-paradise, safe and happy. They’ve never been down to Pandora, smelled the dust and tasted the blood. Their violent introduction to the ‘real’ world of Borderlands mirrors that of the people who’ve played the original game. You get off the bus, you have two seconds to look around, and then you’re knee-deep in spent shells and wiping blood off your hands before you have time to think. Tales gives Rhys and co. the same introduction. When you play through it, you can sympathise. After all, you did the same, once upon a time.

[image error]

This is what good writing is all about. You build a proper world: countries, locations, myths and legends; you flavour it with stories that you only have to hint at – because no real world has answers to every question, and nor should a fictional one. And then you take some characters, some really good characters, and you drop them in it and see what happens. That’s storytelling. At least it’s one way of doing it – and coincidentally it’s the way I like to do it.

Borderlands laid the groundwork. It built the world, and it did it well – and then Tales started telling an actual story. And it’s a good one.

Lockdown 2: Isolation Boogaloo #1 – The First Four Days

4 days of lockdown done, only 24 more to go… I’ve not been up to all that much (what a surprise!), but here’s a little update.

Like many of you, I imagine, I’ve been somewhat glued to the BBC this week waiting for anything to happen with the US election. Very relieved to see a Biden win; looking forward to the inevitable drama of Donald’s refusal to leave.

I also finished – for the first time – the original Ratchet and Clank. I spent most of my playthrough really enjoying the game, and how different it felt to its sequels – lots more puzzles, very different combat – and wondering why I never actually finished it. Then I got to the final boss, and good god was it an absolute pain. Limited ammo drops, weapons that don’t upgrade – only some of which are remotely useful – very limited health, and no checkpoints. About 20 runs through the whole sequence later (and a little help from an exploit that let me sort of checkpoint myself), I managed it. Very satisfying. Now on to R&C 2 again.

[image error]Get rekt, Drek.

As predicted, my LEGO workshops are off for the foreseeable future – though the smaller of the two might be able to run next week. It’s my first week away from the shop in a long time, and I miss it already. Hopefully I’ll be able to go up next week. There’s an awful lot of LEGO that needs sorting, and this seems like a good time to get on with it!

Other than that, I’ve been plugging away at Boiling Seas 2 – they’re in the jungle now (finally!) – and doing some painting. Managed to get hold of the paints I needed last Sunday, and so I’m cracking on with my Guardsmen to see if I can finish them all by the time life opens up again.

Next week, hopefully, video game news will take a more narrative form…

Missives from Isolation #18 – Why Did This Title Have To Become Accurate Again

Well, I’d clearly gotten too used to occasionally leaving the house. Back into lockdown it is.

It’s frustrating on many levels (as I’m sure it is for everyone) – the LEGO workshops I run probably won’t be able to take place for a while, which will be another setback for some of the kids (and mean I don’t get to go out and play with them). Last lockdown we lost a lot of progress. Hopefully this one really does stay just one month. I’m used to working from home, at least, though I’d also gotten used to going into the office once a week… there goes that too. Lockdown will also be covering my birthday, which is probably the greatest annoyance for me personally.

It’s not all doom and gloom, though – or at least I’m going to try not to let it be – I was getting depressed enough as it was. I just need to find a few more things to do. I’ve got some craft stuff I’ve been meaning to get to for a while, and I’m going to swing by Games Workshop later today to grab a few paints – can’t think of a better opportunity to crack on and finish my old Imperial Guard models.

I also think it’s high time I played Mass Effect 3. In fact it might just be narrative videogame time – Tales from the Borderlands is also sitting in my Steam library waiting to go, as is Spec Ops: The Line. They’ll probably make for a blog or two in the coming weeks, so if you like that sort of thing stay tuned!

I will also, of course, still be writing – and if I can bring myself to do it, editing.

What are you going to do with your lovely lockdown time, if you’re in the UK?

If you’re stuck for ideas, might I suggest reading a book, or perhaps two?

What Are YOU Reading?

I don’t actually interact with you, dear readers, nearly as often as I should – and I can’t think of any way to get to know you better than by asking about books. So let’s give it a go, shall we?

What are you reading right now? Is it any good? Is it from a genre you normally read, or are you taking a plunge into something new?

I’m currently back on the Horus Heresy, after Iain M. Banks’ The Algebraist fried my mind a bit. Currently on Vengeful Spirit, which is shaping up to be a very nice piece of light and easy brutal superhuman future-warfare with a side order of stealth missions and a garnish of political intrigue.

What are you reading? Drop a comment below and let’s talk about it.

Missives from Isolation #17 – Being a Kid

I’m the first to admit that my inner child isn’t really inner. Seldom is this more apparent than the fact that I spend every Saturday building LEGO with a group of actual human children for the Toy Project. Even with social distancing (which for a workshop designed to help kids socialise is a massive pain) it’s great fun, and the regular attendees are becoming some of my best friends.

Also, I get to play with LEGO, which is honestly just as therapeutic for me as it is for the kids. I spend a few hours letting go of everything except what I’m building, and at the end of it there’s a tangible something there, that I’ve made with my own two hands and what passes for my brain.

[image error]All 6 Toa Mata. My 6-year-old self is very happy indeed. My 8-year-old self is just as ecstatic with the 6 Rahkshi downstairs.

Yesterday, though, I had an even bigger wave of nostalgia, because this box got brought in.

[image error]

I spent half my childhood playing Yu-Gi-Oh with my cousins. We had little tournaments, we traded cards, we were all annihilated by my oldest cousin thanks to his loose interpretations of deckbuilding rules, and we had fun. I’ve dabbled in newer cards since upon occasion, but nothing’s ever quite hit the same nostalgic spot as the old stuff, the cards that were new when I was young.

And this box is full of them. The very first deck I bought – the very first deck released in the English language – is in there. I haven’t had a chance to search through the whole collection (because it’s enormous) to find every single card from it, but it’s definitely mostly there, and it’s still in the (battered) original box!

I love moments like this. You pick up an old book, or an old toy, and suddenly it all comes flooding back. Proper nostalgic overload. It’s one of my favourite feelings, and I seek it out wherever I can find it. Volunteering at the Toy Project provides plenty of it.

So, basically, if you feel like being a kid again, embrace it. It’s good for you.