Nerine Dorman's Blog, page 50
July 28, 2015
Writing action into erotic stories by Cari Silverwood
Today I hand over my blog to my wonderfully wicked author Cari Silverwood with whom I've walked a long path indeed. Welcome, Cari, and play nicely with my readers, okay?
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Writing action into erotic stories.
Or should that be, writing sex into action stories? Whichever it is, the two of them need to be essential for the story or they shouldn’t be there.
The best scenes are ones that drive the story onward, ramp up the tension, the conflict, the mystery, or whichever collection of words you like to use to describe what you do to haul the reader through the story by their eyeballs, making them frantically flip the pages so fast their fingers risk decapitation from paper cuts or strange electronic zappification, thence leaving a blood trail across the landscape of their kindle. Kindles are blood proof, aren’t they?
Gore is good.
If it’s an erotic story at heart, the sexual relationship is the main drive, and should therefore be the final part of the plot that is wrapped up in a nice neat bow. If it’s an action story when you strip it back to its core, the action plot should be resolved last. Those are rules, but I guess rules can always be broken, just know what you’re doing or your readers may feel unfulfilled.
Sex gets a bad rap from some fantasy or scifi readers and writers. Though happy to arouse voyeuristic thrills by murdering an entire kingdom of warriors, and wizards, with blood and brains spurting to the heavens or perhaps repainting the hull of Spaceforger 309 a motley purple (alien blood, see), some writers think the emotions associated with arousal are lesser in some way. It’s as if describing an axe whistling through the air and cleaving skulls is so much more technical than a cock plunging into whatever it plunges into. Keeping it clean here.
Not so, I would argue. To me, writing action scenes is very akin to writing sex scenes. If you’re reading this you possibly agree with me anyway.
If you don’t agree with me? I probably can’t convince you. It all depends on individual taste, and many people dislike gory violence in stories. Others dislike sex in books. Not I. Adding battle scenes and action to my erotic books is what keeps me writing.
Here’s an excerpt that segues from one to the other. For me, it’s best when the sex directly affects the action and, in this story, mating with their alien lover enhances the magic the women possess, and so it affects how well they can fight the enemy.
This is a practice fight scene from DEFILER, Preyfinders #3.
Her flight was a rapid parabola curving to wall and back in, with a somersault and a spin to confuse Brask’s aim. The force when she hit him surprised even her and he thunked backward with her on top of him and the sword point diving toward his neck with her full weight behind it.
At the last microsecond, Brask batted it away. The sword flew sideways and stuck into the upholstery of a chair, yards away to the side.
A second later, it was back in her hand. Gaping, still straddling Brask’s stomach, she stared at the blade. How?
Then he hauled her down and kissed her.
The impact went through her like a flight of slow-motion doves. Bliss. Everything shut down except an awareness of him beneath her and his lips on hers. His hand was at the back of her head and he threaded his fingers through her hair, gathering more in his fist to pull her even closer. To keep her still.
But she wasn’t going anywhere.
The kiss lasted forever, or it seemed so. While they kissed she lived only that moment, the press on her skin, the heat, the parting to allow his tongue inside her. When his lips left hers she was struck by the loss. She kept her eyes shut, reliving what had happened even though his breathing was still so close, inches away, warming her face.
And as he breathed, she rose and fell. Her thighs were spread. She was vulnerable, despite her position above.
She opened her eyes.
He looked up at her, smiling, with his fingers still tight in her hair, pulling on her scalp.
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To join Cari Silverwood's MAILING LIST and keep up to date with her upcoming books go to:
www.carisilverwood.net
Website: www.carisilverwood.net
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cari.silverwood
Fb author page: https://www.facebook.com/CariSilverwoodAuthor
Twitter: @CariSilverwood
Goodreads
Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. She has an ornery nature as well as a lethal curiosity that makes her want to upend plots and see what falls out when you shake them. When others are writing bad men doing bad things, you may find her writing good men who accidentally on purpose fall into the abyss and come out with their morals twisted in knots.
This might be because she comes from the land down under, Australia, or it could be her excessive consumption of wine.
Her favorite hobby is convincing people she has a basement...though she really doesn’t. Promise. If it existed it would be a terrifying place where you would find all the dangerous things that you never knew you craved.
#
Writing action into erotic stories.
Or should that be, writing sex into action stories? Whichever it is, the two of them need to be essential for the story or they shouldn’t be there.
The best scenes are ones that drive the story onward, ramp up the tension, the conflict, the mystery, or whichever collection of words you like to use to describe what you do to haul the reader through the story by their eyeballs, making them frantically flip the pages so fast their fingers risk decapitation from paper cuts or strange electronic zappification, thence leaving a blood trail across the landscape of their kindle. Kindles are blood proof, aren’t they?
Gore is good.
If it’s an erotic story at heart, the sexual relationship is the main drive, and should therefore be the final part of the plot that is wrapped up in a nice neat bow. If it’s an action story when you strip it back to its core, the action plot should be resolved last. Those are rules, but I guess rules can always be broken, just know what you’re doing or your readers may feel unfulfilled.
Sex gets a bad rap from some fantasy or scifi readers and writers. Though happy to arouse voyeuristic thrills by murdering an entire kingdom of warriors, and wizards, with blood and brains spurting to the heavens or perhaps repainting the hull of Spaceforger 309 a motley purple (alien blood, see), some writers think the emotions associated with arousal are lesser in some way. It’s as if describing an axe whistling through the air and cleaving skulls is so much more technical than a cock plunging into whatever it plunges into. Keeping it clean here.
Not so, I would argue. To me, writing action scenes is very akin to writing sex scenes. If you’re reading this you possibly agree with me anyway.
If you don’t agree with me? I probably can’t convince you. It all depends on individual taste, and many people dislike gory violence in stories. Others dislike sex in books. Not I. Adding battle scenes and action to my erotic books is what keeps me writing.
Here’s an excerpt that segues from one to the other. For me, it’s best when the sex directly affects the action and, in this story, mating with their alien lover enhances the magic the women possess, and so it affects how well they can fight the enemy.
This is a practice fight scene from DEFILER, Preyfinders #3.
Her flight was a rapid parabola curving to wall and back in, with a somersault and a spin to confuse Brask’s aim. The force when she hit him surprised even her and he thunked backward with her on top of him and the sword point diving toward his neck with her full weight behind it.At the last microsecond, Brask batted it away. The sword flew sideways and stuck into the upholstery of a chair, yards away to the side.
A second later, it was back in her hand. Gaping, still straddling Brask’s stomach, she stared at the blade. How?
Then he hauled her down and kissed her.
The impact went through her like a flight of slow-motion doves. Bliss. Everything shut down except an awareness of him beneath her and his lips on hers. His hand was at the back of her head and he threaded his fingers through her hair, gathering more in his fist to pull her even closer. To keep her still.
But she wasn’t going anywhere.
The kiss lasted forever, or it seemed so. While they kissed she lived only that moment, the press on her skin, the heat, the parting to allow his tongue inside her. When his lips left hers she was struck by the loss. She kept her eyes shut, reliving what had happened even though his breathing was still so close, inches away, warming her face.
And as he breathed, she rose and fell. Her thighs were spread. She was vulnerable, despite her position above.
She opened her eyes.
He looked up at her, smiling, with his fingers still tight in her hair, pulling on her scalp.
#
To join Cari Silverwood's MAILING LIST and keep up to date with her upcoming books go to:
www.carisilverwood.net
Website: www.carisilverwood.net
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cari.silverwood
Fb author page: https://www.facebook.com/CariSilverwoodAuthor
Twitter: @CariSilverwood
Goodreads
Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. She has an ornery nature as well as a lethal curiosity that makes her want to upend plots and see what falls out when you shake them. When others are writing bad men doing bad things, you may find her writing good men who accidentally on purpose fall into the abyss and come out with their morals twisted in knots.
This might be because she comes from the land down under, Australia, or it could be her excessive consumption of wine.
Her favorite hobby is convincing people she has a basement...though she really doesn’t. Promise. If it existed it would be a terrifying place where you would find all the dangerous things that you never knew you craved.
July 23, 2015
I Heart Robot by Suzanne van Rooyen #review
Title:
I Heart Robot
Author: Suzanne van Rooyen
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC, 2014
I’ll be upfront and say that I’ve never really been a fan of stories where one of the viewpoint characters is some sort of artificial intelligence. My rationale has always been that the author faces incredible challenges in order to express a non-human sentience in such a way that it would feel authentic. Yet I’m happy to report that not only has Suzanne van Rooyen done a great job with her androids, but she kept me turning the pages.
I Heart Robot takes place in the distant future in the Scandinavian city of Baldur, during an era that tips its hat strongly at Philip K Dick’s universe, yet without the crushing despair one encounters in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. At its core, I Heart Robot is essentially a sweet romance meets technological thriller.
Tyri is a young, musically gifted woman who is torn between the sensible career path her mother and society expects of her, and her love for making music. Quinn is an android who has fled his abusive owners and is trying to make something of himself – by proving that he can pass for human. Playing as a solo violinist for symphony is just one of his dreams. And yes, we are presented with non-biological lifeforms that make us question where pre-programmed responses stop and individual agency takes over. Can androids even feel genuine emotion?
Though the music causes Tyri and Quinn’s paths to cross, there are greater forces at play as well. Growing social unrest results in tensions between human and robotic lifeforms, and Van Rooyen forces readers to ask: what makes a lifeform real? At the end of the day, only the building blocks differ. Whether a stew of blood, bone and hormone, or metal, cruor and synthetic skin – Van Rooyen’s characters are painted as vital and alive in their own sense of self.
While I Heart Robot may come across as a near-typical young adult SF read (yes, with an expected love triangle), Van Rooyen’s voice is lyrical and her world is populated with vibrant characters and a joyous sense of wonder. Even better, she does not shy away from adding a bit of grit to her narrative, sometimes in the most unexpected places. Bad things happen, and ordinary people are forced to act under extraordinary circumstances, resulting in a read that doesn’t quite go where you’d expect it to. Which is a good thing, if you ask me.
Author: Suzanne van Rooyen
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC, 2014
I’ll be upfront and say that I’ve never really been a fan of stories where one of the viewpoint characters is some sort of artificial intelligence. My rationale has always been that the author faces incredible challenges in order to express a non-human sentience in such a way that it would feel authentic. Yet I’m happy to report that not only has Suzanne van Rooyen done a great job with her androids, but she kept me turning the pages.I Heart Robot takes place in the distant future in the Scandinavian city of Baldur, during an era that tips its hat strongly at Philip K Dick’s universe, yet without the crushing despair one encounters in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. At its core, I Heart Robot is essentially a sweet romance meets technological thriller.
Tyri is a young, musically gifted woman who is torn between the sensible career path her mother and society expects of her, and her love for making music. Quinn is an android who has fled his abusive owners and is trying to make something of himself – by proving that he can pass for human. Playing as a solo violinist for symphony is just one of his dreams. And yes, we are presented with non-biological lifeforms that make us question where pre-programmed responses stop and individual agency takes over. Can androids even feel genuine emotion?
Though the music causes Tyri and Quinn’s paths to cross, there are greater forces at play as well. Growing social unrest results in tensions between human and robotic lifeforms, and Van Rooyen forces readers to ask: what makes a lifeform real? At the end of the day, only the building blocks differ. Whether a stew of blood, bone and hormone, or metal, cruor and synthetic skin – Van Rooyen’s characters are painted as vital and alive in their own sense of self.
While I Heart Robot may come across as a near-typical young adult SF read (yes, with an expected love triangle), Van Rooyen’s voice is lyrical and her world is populated with vibrant characters and a joyous sense of wonder. Even better, she does not shy away from adding a bit of grit to her narrative, sometimes in the most unexpected places. Bad things happen, and ordinary people are forced to act under extraordinary circumstances, resulting in a read that doesn’t quite go where you’d expect it to. Which is a good thing, if you ask me.
July 21, 2015
The Sol Plaatje European Union Vol IV Poetry Anthology review
Title:
The Sol Plaatje European Union Vol IV Poetry Anthology
Selected by: Ingrid de Kock, Johann de Lange and Goodenough Mashego
Publisher: Jacana Media, 2014
Once again, I’m going way out of my usual comfort zone because, well, I believe in deviating from the norm from time to time so that I can get a fresh perspective on writing. Part of my BA studies (at time of writing) entails looking at other genres, which obviously includes poetry. This slim volume is the result of the annual European Union Sol Plaatje Poetry Award that, in the spirit of remembering political and social activist Sol Plaatje, anthologises the strongest entries submitted for the award.
Huge disclaimer: I have only recently started reading poetry again. The reason is that for a good while I fancied myself allergic to poetry, which possibly had a lot to do with the fact that I’d seen so much awful poetry posted online or mailed to me by well-meaning folks who say “well, you’re an author, tell me what you think of my poem” that I made a point of avoiding all poetry.
Stupid. I know.
Writing a good poem is difficult. Within the space of a few verses you must encapsulate an essence and convey an idea, emotions, a thought, in deft brushstrokes. Whether you employ free verse or iambic pentameter and rhyming couplets, your words are measured, carefully considered.
But getting back to this anthology, I’m also going to touch on why poetry matters, and especially in this day and age. Poems are snapshots, moments frozen in time that capture the essence of the poet’s perception. Poems are an act of communication, yes, but they’re also an art form, and for those very reasons, this collection is important because it expresses a cross-section of perception of African writers who have made observations, not only about themselves but their milieu. And we need these memories so we can construct a deeper image of our continent and its people. Stories matter, no matter whether they are a scrap of words or an epic saga.
It’s impossible for me to give a blow-by-blow breakdown of every poem collected here, suffice to say that each is a gem. Some resonate more with me than others. Perhaps it’s because there isn’t enough shared cultural space, but most importantly, these writers have words that have been captured and lent a little permanence and evoke often visceral images. Mostly, this is the sort of collection that you can return to, dip into the words, turn them over like small stones that catch flashes of sunlight.
Selected by: Ingrid de Kock, Johann de Lange and Goodenough Mashego
Publisher: Jacana Media, 2014
Once again, I’m going way out of my usual comfort zone because, well, I believe in deviating from the norm from time to time so that I can get a fresh perspective on writing. Part of my BA studies (at time of writing) entails looking at other genres, which obviously includes poetry. This slim volume is the result of the annual European Union Sol Plaatje Poetry Award that, in the spirit of remembering political and social activist Sol Plaatje, anthologises the strongest entries submitted for the award.Huge disclaimer: I have only recently started reading poetry again. The reason is that for a good while I fancied myself allergic to poetry, which possibly had a lot to do with the fact that I’d seen so much awful poetry posted online or mailed to me by well-meaning folks who say “well, you’re an author, tell me what you think of my poem” that I made a point of avoiding all poetry.
Stupid. I know.
Writing a good poem is difficult. Within the space of a few verses you must encapsulate an essence and convey an idea, emotions, a thought, in deft brushstrokes. Whether you employ free verse or iambic pentameter and rhyming couplets, your words are measured, carefully considered.
But getting back to this anthology, I’m also going to touch on why poetry matters, and especially in this day and age. Poems are snapshots, moments frozen in time that capture the essence of the poet’s perception. Poems are an act of communication, yes, but they’re also an art form, and for those very reasons, this collection is important because it expresses a cross-section of perception of African writers who have made observations, not only about themselves but their milieu. And we need these memories so we can construct a deeper image of our continent and its people. Stories matter, no matter whether they are a scrap of words or an epic saga.
It’s impossible for me to give a blow-by-blow breakdown of every poem collected here, suffice to say that each is a gem. Some resonate more with me than others. Perhaps it’s because there isn’t enough shared cultural space, but most importantly, these writers have words that have been captured and lent a little permanence and evoke often visceral images. Mostly, this is the sort of collection that you can return to, dip into the words, turn them over like small stones that catch flashes of sunlight.
July 14, 2015
The Hawley Book of the Dead by Chrysler Szarlan #review
Title:
The Hawley Book of the Dead
Author: Chrysler Szarlan
Publisher: Century, 2014
From the glitz, glitter, and make-believe of Las Vegas, to the mysterious forests of Massachusetts, The Hawley Book of the Dead plunges readers into a world where the lines between make believe and true magic are difficult to distinguish in the lives of Revelation Dyer and her family.
Reve has always had the knack to disappear at will; in fact, all the women in her family seem to be possessed of some sort of power. Yet when her magician husband Jeremy is killed during their Las Vegas show, she is powerless to stop this tragedy from occurring.
She’s soon convinced that Jeremy’s death was no accident, and when it’s suggested that she return to her family home of Hawley Five Corners in Massachusetts for her and her daughters’ safety, Reve packs up her life and embarks on a complete change of pace – and the hope that she can untangle a skein of mysteries related to her family’s past and a mysterious, magical journal that holds many secrets.
The Hawley Book of the Dead is a tactile story that engages the senses, from the ground up to the very characters who inhabit its pages. Author Chrysler Szarlan succeeds in evoking a world that blurs at the edges, and where past and present and other realms mingle in unexpected ways.
This is a story about a woman’s overcoming grief and coming into power, as she steps across the boundaries that separate her safe reality from a wilder, deeper magic that has always been her heritage. Reve must face an ancient enemy, who seeks to control her, and she doesn’t have the luxury of time in which she can learn to harness her legacy. Yet the Hawley Book of the Dead isn’t fast-paced; it grows slowly, organically, to give readers a vivid sense of people and place. It is the special sort of novel that refuses to fit snugly in any of the existing literary niches, which makes it all the more enchanting.
Author: Chrysler Szarlan
Publisher: Century, 2014
From the glitz, glitter, and make-believe of Las Vegas, to the mysterious forests of Massachusetts, The Hawley Book of the Dead plunges readers into a world where the lines between make believe and true magic are difficult to distinguish in the lives of Revelation Dyer and her family.Reve has always had the knack to disappear at will; in fact, all the women in her family seem to be possessed of some sort of power. Yet when her magician husband Jeremy is killed during their Las Vegas show, she is powerless to stop this tragedy from occurring.
She’s soon convinced that Jeremy’s death was no accident, and when it’s suggested that she return to her family home of Hawley Five Corners in Massachusetts for her and her daughters’ safety, Reve packs up her life and embarks on a complete change of pace – and the hope that she can untangle a skein of mysteries related to her family’s past and a mysterious, magical journal that holds many secrets.
The Hawley Book of the Dead is a tactile story that engages the senses, from the ground up to the very characters who inhabit its pages. Author Chrysler Szarlan succeeds in evoking a world that blurs at the edges, and where past and present and other realms mingle in unexpected ways.
This is a story about a woman’s overcoming grief and coming into power, as she steps across the boundaries that separate her safe reality from a wilder, deeper magic that has always been her heritage. Reve must face an ancient enemy, who seeks to control her, and she doesn’t have the luxury of time in which she can learn to harness her legacy. Yet the Hawley Book of the Dead isn’t fast-paced; it grows slowly, organically, to give readers a vivid sense of people and place. It is the special sort of novel that refuses to fit snugly in any of the existing literary niches, which makes it all the more enchanting.
July 2, 2015
Review: The Stolen Throne (Dragon Age #1) by David Gaider
Title:
Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne (Dragon Age #1)
Author: David Gaider
Publisher: Titan Books, 2010
Anyone who knows me well will know that I’ve an insatiable appetite for lore. They’ll also know that I’m an incorrigible addict when it comes to fantasy that involves dragons, elves and magic. So needless to say, now that I’ve fallen into the black hole that is BioWare’s Dragon Age franchise, there is no hope for this Middle-earth veteran.
My main motivation for picking up The Stolen Throne *was* for the lore, as well as the backstory for characters and events. When you’re looking at a setting that’s so magnificently portrayed in the gaming environment, as well as an environment that has spawned so much fan-created artistic and literary content, you’re really onto something special. At least for the fans, that is.
Which is why The Stolen Throne was great. The story is simple. Prince Maric’s on the run after his mother, the queen, is murdered thanks to the treachery of her subjects. Ferelden is ruled by an usurper placed on the throne by the neighbouring empire of Orlesia, and Maric faces a bitter struggle before he can take his rightful place as ruler and gain vengeance. Helping him are his betrothed, Rowan, and his loyal and best friend Loghain, who stand by him through all his battles.
For those who played through Dragon Age: Origins, Maric is Alistair’s grandfather, so it’s a nice touch to see this little slice of history brought to life, and especially getting an idea of the socio-political setting for the magnificent world of Thedas.
But…
Yes. You knew there was going to be a but, didn’t you…
The execution of this novel didn’t blow me away. While I appreciated the content, its delivery could have been better, and this is where I am not afraid to say that a savvy content editor would have been able to poke and prod the author to give a little more. The plot itself is fine – and suitably unpredictable. I certainly did not expect a diversion down into the [spoiler] where the inevitable [spoilers] were encountered. And oh, look, cool loot! I sometimes felt that character's’ motivations could have been given a bit more voema. The dialogue could have been a bit more complex. The environment could have been gifted with more sensual experience. Lots of could haves… If the characters are in a forest, I want to smell the leaf mould, feel the coolness of the air… That sort of thing. I wanted to be struck by the sheer magnificence of the setting the way I am when I play through Dragon Age: Inquisition.
So, yeah, it fell a little flat for me.
Overall, this one hovers a little between three and four stars for me. There were times when my heart quickened (because I had my favourite characters, like Rowan and Katriel, who are both strong women with agency in a hostile environment). But there were often times when I felt the prose didn’t live up to its potential. Will I go on to reading others in the series? Yes. Because I’m a sucker for canon and I’m a total geek hoping to be able to map out details for when I’m playing the game or writing fics. So, this is one for the die-hard fans.
Author: David Gaider
Publisher: Titan Books, 2010
Anyone who knows me well will know that I’ve an insatiable appetite for lore. They’ll also know that I’m an incorrigible addict when it comes to fantasy that involves dragons, elves and magic. So needless to say, now that I’ve fallen into the black hole that is BioWare’s Dragon Age franchise, there is no hope for this Middle-earth veteran.
My main motivation for picking up The Stolen Throne *was* for the lore, as well as the backstory for characters and events. When you’re looking at a setting that’s so magnificently portrayed in the gaming environment, as well as an environment that has spawned so much fan-created artistic and literary content, you’re really onto something special. At least for the fans, that is.Which is why The Stolen Throne was great. The story is simple. Prince Maric’s on the run after his mother, the queen, is murdered thanks to the treachery of her subjects. Ferelden is ruled by an usurper placed on the throne by the neighbouring empire of Orlesia, and Maric faces a bitter struggle before he can take his rightful place as ruler and gain vengeance. Helping him are his betrothed, Rowan, and his loyal and best friend Loghain, who stand by him through all his battles.
For those who played through Dragon Age: Origins, Maric is Alistair’s grandfather, so it’s a nice touch to see this little slice of history brought to life, and especially getting an idea of the socio-political setting for the magnificent world of Thedas.
But…
Yes. You knew there was going to be a but, didn’t you…
The execution of this novel didn’t blow me away. While I appreciated the content, its delivery could have been better, and this is where I am not afraid to say that a savvy content editor would have been able to poke and prod the author to give a little more. The plot itself is fine – and suitably unpredictable. I certainly did not expect a diversion down into the [spoiler] where the inevitable [spoilers] were encountered. And oh, look, cool loot! I sometimes felt that character's’ motivations could have been given a bit more voema. The dialogue could have been a bit more complex. The environment could have been gifted with more sensual experience. Lots of could haves… If the characters are in a forest, I want to smell the leaf mould, feel the coolness of the air… That sort of thing. I wanted to be struck by the sheer magnificence of the setting the way I am when I play through Dragon Age: Inquisition.
So, yeah, it fell a little flat for me.
Overall, this one hovers a little between three and four stars for me. There were times when my heart quickened (because I had my favourite characters, like Rowan and Katriel, who are both strong women with agency in a hostile environment). But there were often times when I felt the prose didn’t live up to its potential. Will I go on to reading others in the series? Yes. Because I’m a sucker for canon and I’m a total geek hoping to be able to map out details for when I’m playing the game or writing fics. So, this is one for the die-hard fans.
June 25, 2015
Deep Blue – The Waterfire Saga #1
Title:
Deep Blue (The Waterfire Saga 1#)
Author: Jennifer Donnelly
Publisher: Hodder Children’s Books, 2014
With vampires, zombies and angels having had their turn in the literary limelight, it’s pretty much a given that other magical creatures will have the opportunity to shine, and The Waterfire Saga by Jennfier Donnelly is a strong contender to fill a niche of a more oceanic nature.
We meet with the mermaid princess Serafina, heir to the throne of Miromara, as she prepares to accept her responsibilities and prove her royal worth. Not only must she prove that she is pure of bloodline, but she’s about to formalise her betrothal to a prince and offer everyone a display of her magical prowess. No pressure, eh? Only events transpire that see her and her long-time (and glow-in the dark) friend Neela drawn into a prophecy that involves them in saving the world from a great evil.
Essentially, this is Disney’s The Little Mermaid (in all its somewhat twee glory) for teen girls of around the ages of 12 and 14, though there really isn’t an age limit if you just want to escape into a watery fantasy world for a few hundred pages. That’s if you can put up with the teen chatter and the terrible puns that come quite close to rivalling even Pierce Anthony’s Xanth novels. I admit to a fair amount of eye-rolling at terms such as “currensea” (money) but the story’s playful aspects offset its grimmer side, because, yes, there is plenty of reference to violence and death. The teen mermaids have to overcome great odds to stay ahead of the ambitious Traho, aided and abetted by the sinister Abbadon, a Titan-like demonic entity. Little time remains for them to track down a bunch of talismans that will help keep their nemesis from escaping his prison and destroying their world.
The antagonists are straightforward Disney-esque villains, hell-bent on world domination. (After all, what else is there to strive for if you’re evil?) The narrative follows a typical “disparate underdogs must unite despite overwhelming challenges” approach so common in popular films and books. If you’re looking for twists to the theme, you won’t find it here. It’s a straight-up quest.
Though Deep Blue gets off to a slow start, the action does eventually trip into high speed, and at times I felt that Donnelly writes a little too fast. For instance, much is done to build the relationship between Serafina and Neela, but by the time other important secondary characters pitch up, such as Astrid, Ava, Ling and Becca (and according to the prophecy, they are pretty important), there isn’t nearly as much opportunity to develop their personalities, and hence it is difficult to relate to them.
Though there is a lot of exposition for readers to come to grips with, and that often feels as if it was wedged in purely for readers’ benefit, Deep Blue is still a fun, engaging read that will whisk invested readers away from the mundane for a while.
Author: Jennifer Donnelly
Publisher: Hodder Children’s Books, 2014
With vampires, zombies and angels having had their turn in the literary limelight, it’s pretty much a given that other magical creatures will have the opportunity to shine, and The Waterfire Saga by Jennfier Donnelly is a strong contender to fill a niche of a more oceanic nature.We meet with the mermaid princess Serafina, heir to the throne of Miromara, as she prepares to accept her responsibilities and prove her royal worth. Not only must she prove that she is pure of bloodline, but she’s about to formalise her betrothal to a prince and offer everyone a display of her magical prowess. No pressure, eh? Only events transpire that see her and her long-time (and glow-in the dark) friend Neela drawn into a prophecy that involves them in saving the world from a great evil.
Essentially, this is Disney’s The Little Mermaid (in all its somewhat twee glory) for teen girls of around the ages of 12 and 14, though there really isn’t an age limit if you just want to escape into a watery fantasy world for a few hundred pages. That’s if you can put up with the teen chatter and the terrible puns that come quite close to rivalling even Pierce Anthony’s Xanth novels. I admit to a fair amount of eye-rolling at terms such as “currensea” (money) but the story’s playful aspects offset its grimmer side, because, yes, there is plenty of reference to violence and death. The teen mermaids have to overcome great odds to stay ahead of the ambitious Traho, aided and abetted by the sinister Abbadon, a Titan-like demonic entity. Little time remains for them to track down a bunch of talismans that will help keep their nemesis from escaping his prison and destroying their world.
The antagonists are straightforward Disney-esque villains, hell-bent on world domination. (After all, what else is there to strive for if you’re evil?) The narrative follows a typical “disparate underdogs must unite despite overwhelming challenges” approach so common in popular films and books. If you’re looking for twists to the theme, you won’t find it here. It’s a straight-up quest.
Though Deep Blue gets off to a slow start, the action does eventually trip into high speed, and at times I felt that Donnelly writes a little too fast. For instance, much is done to build the relationship between Serafina and Neela, but by the time other important secondary characters pitch up, such as Astrid, Ava, Ling and Becca (and according to the prophecy, they are pretty important), there isn’t nearly as much opportunity to develop their personalities, and hence it is difficult to relate to them.
Though there is a lot of exposition for readers to come to grips with, and that often feels as if it was wedged in purely for readers’ benefit, Deep Blue is still a fun, engaging read that will whisk invested readers away from the mundane for a while.
June 18, 2015
The Children of Húrin by JRR Tolkien #review
Title:
The Children of Húrin
Author: JRR Tolkien
Edited by: Christopher Tolkien
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers, 2008
There’s a reason why I keep going back to Tolkien when I end up discussing the fantasy genre or even just how to approach the creation of epic worlds. Not to say that Tolkien was the first (because he had precursors who’re rarely, if ever mentioned), but he was most definitely the first in the genre to gain legendary status (and now has JK Rowling snapping on his heels).
Though by contemporary standards, I argue that Tolkien is not for everyone – his style is rather dry, patriarchal even – and it’s clear that this is a man who was obsessed with world-building rather than characterisation. While The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings appear to be perennial favourites with legions of new readers each generation, Tolkien’s other works are perhaps left for the die-hard fans.
The Silmarillion is a prime example. I butted heads with it during my teens when I’d just finished my first immersion into The Lord of the Rings. I hated it. Didn’t finish it. I went back to it years later, and was absolutely blown away – not by the writing so much – but by the sheer mass of imagination. The scary thing was realising that the events that transpired in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings were only a thin sliver of Tolkien’s entire creation, now that was astounding.
And I found myself wishing that he had gone on to write more, because what we’re left with is but a skeleton.
It’s taken me years to read The Children of Húrin. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew it wouldn’t be an easy path to tread. Tolkien makes you work for it – the language usage is more akin to sitting at the fireside listening to an old storyteller recount a saga than the immersiveness of current authors such as Mark Lawrence, George RR Martin or Robin Hobb.
Having recently completed a university course on Greek mythology, I can draw parallels between that and how Tolkien approached The Children of Húrin. This is not a comfortable story. The heroes are tragic, flawed. Túrin’s hubris results in his inevitable downfall, and his victory against Glaurung is pyrrhic. The dragon itself is but a dark mirror, reflecting a twisted truth that paralyses heroes. Ophelia-like, Niënor is flotsam, cast adrift in a dark tide; though her love is pure, it is misdirected. I saw the greater tragedy approach from a distance, and could do little more than wait for the ultimate wrapping up of cruelties.
There is little that is noble about any of the characters in this story. Even the elves are cast in such a way to show that they too suffer through their excessive pride – something that the dread Morgoth doesn't hesitate to exploit. The antagonist is but the catalyst around which the others trip and fall, however for those who have distance from the situation, it is easy to make a judgment call.
If you’re a die-hard Tolkien fan, like me, and you’re yet to read The Children of Húrin, I’ll fully recommend it. It’s not quite as heavy going as The Silmarillion, and it’s going to fill in a good few gaps in your fantasy geekdom. As a template of epic tragedy, this one’s got it all. At time of writing (a week since completing my read-through), I’m still smarting and bruised. And feeling as dissatisfied and annoyed as I was at the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition. And I’ll read this one again. And again. Because: elves, dragons, beautiful worlds, sadness and tragedy.
PS, if you’re emotionally correct and easily upset by bad stuff that happens to good people, go read about unicorns pooping rainbows. This book will make you very, very angry and you’ll probably ask for it to be banned from your library.
Author: JRR Tolkien
Edited by: Christopher Tolkien
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers, 2008
There’s a reason why I keep going back to Tolkien when I end up discussing the fantasy genre or even just how to approach the creation of epic worlds. Not to say that Tolkien was the first (because he had precursors who’re rarely, if ever mentioned), but he was most definitely the first in the genre to gain legendary status (and now has JK Rowling snapping on his heels).Though by contemporary standards, I argue that Tolkien is not for everyone – his style is rather dry, patriarchal even – and it’s clear that this is a man who was obsessed with world-building rather than characterisation. While The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings appear to be perennial favourites with legions of new readers each generation, Tolkien’s other works are perhaps left for the die-hard fans.
The Silmarillion is a prime example. I butted heads with it during my teens when I’d just finished my first immersion into The Lord of the Rings. I hated it. Didn’t finish it. I went back to it years later, and was absolutely blown away – not by the writing so much – but by the sheer mass of imagination. The scary thing was realising that the events that transpired in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings were only a thin sliver of Tolkien’s entire creation, now that was astounding.
And I found myself wishing that he had gone on to write more, because what we’re left with is but a skeleton.
It’s taken me years to read The Children of Húrin. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I knew it wouldn’t be an easy path to tread. Tolkien makes you work for it – the language usage is more akin to sitting at the fireside listening to an old storyteller recount a saga than the immersiveness of current authors such as Mark Lawrence, George RR Martin or Robin Hobb.
Having recently completed a university course on Greek mythology, I can draw parallels between that and how Tolkien approached The Children of Húrin. This is not a comfortable story. The heroes are tragic, flawed. Túrin’s hubris results in his inevitable downfall, and his victory against Glaurung is pyrrhic. The dragon itself is but a dark mirror, reflecting a twisted truth that paralyses heroes. Ophelia-like, Niënor is flotsam, cast adrift in a dark tide; though her love is pure, it is misdirected. I saw the greater tragedy approach from a distance, and could do little more than wait for the ultimate wrapping up of cruelties.
There is little that is noble about any of the characters in this story. Even the elves are cast in such a way to show that they too suffer through their excessive pride – something that the dread Morgoth doesn't hesitate to exploit. The antagonist is but the catalyst around which the others trip and fall, however for those who have distance from the situation, it is easy to make a judgment call.
If you’re a die-hard Tolkien fan, like me, and you’re yet to read The Children of Húrin, I’ll fully recommend it. It’s not quite as heavy going as The Silmarillion, and it’s going to fill in a good few gaps in your fantasy geekdom. As a template of epic tragedy, this one’s got it all. At time of writing (a week since completing my read-through), I’m still smarting and bruised. And feeling as dissatisfied and annoyed as I was at the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition. And I’ll read this one again. And again. Because: elves, dragons, beautiful worlds, sadness and tragedy.
PS, if you’re emotionally correct and easily upset by bad stuff that happens to good people, go read about unicorns pooping rainbows. This book will make you very, very angry and you’ll probably ask for it to be banned from your library.
June 11, 2015
A glimpse into a grim future with Edyth Bulbring
For those of you who missed my interview with South African author Edyth Bulbring when it first appeared in the Pretoria News this month, here it is in its full glory.
In a genre made popular by such a runaway successes as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Divergent, by Veronica Roth, which have both spawned film franchises, it is perhaps a difficult to break into and put one’s own stamp on, but South African author Edyth Bulbring has done just that with her novel, The Mark, which tells the story of one young woman, Juliet Seven – or Ettie, as she prefers to be known – who fights against a system that will see her serve her entire life as a drudge in service to the upper classes.
Though, as Bulbring says, there is a lot in The Mark that is similar to other examples dystopian fiction, when she set out to write The Mark, she hadn’t read any in the genre.
“It was a completely new genre for me,” says Bulbring, “and I only started reading books like The Hunger Games and Divergent after I had written the first draft of The Mark. Looking back, I think there is one thing that sets The Mark apart from its fellows. This is that Juliet Seven, or Ettie, who has a prophecy about her saying that she will be the one to overturn the existing repressive system, does not know about the prophecy and she does not embrace popular rebellion. She is a loner, deeply suspicious of other people and she neither joins, nor identifies with the movement in opposition to the existing order.
“But I think it reflects my belief that all systems/governments are pretty much all the same. They are all underpinned by ugly, greedy rich men with big guns. And, that at the end of the day, behind the Mandelas and the Gandhis – the kinds of people whose heroic faces we so love to wear on our T-shirts and shout slogans about – the new systems that come about because of their sacrifices and the movements they inspire, simply turn out to be pretty much like the old ones – underpinned by ugly greedy rich men with big guns. Nothing ever changes. I think Ettie knows this, that one system is as rubbish as the next, which is why she chooses not to become the new poster girl for other people’s agendas.
Ettie isn't the special girl with all the special powers we’ve come to expect in YA fiction. In fact, she isn't even a very nice person, yet she does have some redeeming qualities. Why do we cheer for her despite her not-so-nice side?
Bulbring explains: “There are lots of not so nice things about Ettie. She is duplicitous, cunning and manipulative, a thief, a liar and she is driven by self-preservation. But there are two qualities that allow us to forgive her and root for her. The first is that when she loves, she loves hard and true. The second is that she is loyal to those she loves. I think we like the fact that she is discerning – she doesn’t care who likes her and likes few people in return. She is not into celebrity culture. She spends her love and loyalty frugally and doesn’t spread it around much, but when she does, she becomes incredibly vulnerable. Her love and loyalty make her behave contrary to her nature and have the power to break her. She knows this, and despite it, she allows it to happen.”
The world Bulbring paints has very little hope in it, and Bulbring shares that The Mark started off as a short story she wrote several years ago when her nine-year-old-son was tricked out of some money by a con artist while they were on holiday in Italy.
She says: “I wanted to explore the relationship between a hardened scammer and the boy who falls in love with her. The short story died, but I couldn’t forget the idea about the con artist and the boy, so I thought I would try and turn it into a book. When I thought about a setting, I realised that it would never work in South Africa, or even abroad. I had to set it in a place that didn’t exist. I needed to create a new place and a different time for them. So that’s what I did. I am also a keen recycler and gardener, and one of the things that drives me mental is the control that big corporations have over the environment and the production of food. I wanted to explore the consequences that the actions of a few greedy bastards would have on our future.”
There are few other survivors in this future, but hadedas are a remnant from the past, and add a touch of magical realism to what might otherwise be straight SF. Bulbring concludes: “The Mark is set some 250 years after a time when the world blew up and cut the face of the moon in half. Very little survived apart from fleas and rats and, of course, cockroaches. Except I love birds, especially hadedas, which are prehistoric looking, extremely deceptive in that they are ungainly and ugly, except up close they are quite extraordinarily beautiful. The sound they make (like strangled vuvuzelas) when they circle above my house and wake me every morning, makes me feel glad to be alive. In The Mark, the muti nags takes the eyes out of the hadeda chicks so that they have a second sight. I chose them to the blind tellers of the prophecy because if there is one bird I imagined surviving a conflagration, it would be the hadeda. They look a billion years old and as if they are set to last another billion.”
Find out more about Edyth Bulbring at www.nb.co.za/authors/8506.
REVIEW
Title: The Mark
Author: Edyth Bulbring
Publisher: Tafelberg, 2014
Before you roll your eyes at what you may consider to be yet another YA dystopia read, you can be reassured that The Mark by Edyth Bulbring isn’t cast in the same mould as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins as so many recent releases have been. Instead, the work has a grittier, more scratchy-behind-the-eyes feel that one would expect with George Orwell’s 1984.
Ettie, also known as Juliet Seven, isn’t the special girl with the super abilities who is going to save the world and overthrow the evil ruling elite. She’s no one. She’s a drudge, a young woman fated to work in a menial job until she’s only fit for the Reject Dump. Her Mark, which she desperately tries to remove throughout, means she’s trapped in the roles cast for her by others.
We discover a world that is, as Bulbring puts it, “Post-Conflagration”. What exactly went wrong, we don’t find out, but it’s beside the point. Humanity and nearly all the life on the planet (apart from flies) have been driven to the edge of extinction. The Machine is all that keeps mankind going, regulating a rigid caste system in which only a few are lucky enough to number among the Elite. The sun is no longer a life-giving source of light, and any who do not play by the rules in this harsh world are deemed Savage, and cut off from society.
When not training for her future in service of the elite, Ettie is also part of a criminal underground that scams the “Posh”, and she makes no excuses for behaviour nor does she possess many redeeming qualities, beyond her rigorous self-interest. Though she’s clearly not a nice person – and some of her nasty comments are true gems – her devotion to her friend and companion Kitty, whom she will go to the ends of the earth to protect, shines through; and also her love of literature that transports her to magical worlds so vastly different from the reality in which she is immersed.
The main theme throughout the story is that of escape, and not being satisfied with preordained lots. Ettie’s attempts to break free from an oppressive system lead her through many unpredictable twists and turns; as soon as I thought I knew which direction Bulbring was going to take readers, she confounded my expectations.
The Mark is a fast-paced, gritty and uncomfortable read and Bulbring maintains a cracking pace, blending elements of SF dystopia with nuances of magical realism. Pick this one up if you’re looking for something slightly different.
In a genre made popular by such a runaway successes as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Divergent, by Veronica Roth, which have both spawned film franchises, it is perhaps a difficult to break into and put one’s own stamp on, but South African author Edyth Bulbring has done just that with her novel, The Mark, which tells the story of one young woman, Juliet Seven – or Ettie, as she prefers to be known – who fights against a system that will see her serve her entire life as a drudge in service to the upper classes.Though, as Bulbring says, there is a lot in The Mark that is similar to other examples dystopian fiction, when she set out to write The Mark, she hadn’t read any in the genre.
“It was a completely new genre for me,” says Bulbring, “and I only started reading books like The Hunger Games and Divergent after I had written the first draft of The Mark. Looking back, I think there is one thing that sets The Mark apart from its fellows. This is that Juliet Seven, or Ettie, who has a prophecy about her saying that she will be the one to overturn the existing repressive system, does not know about the prophecy and she does not embrace popular rebellion. She is a loner, deeply suspicious of other people and she neither joins, nor identifies with the movement in opposition to the existing order.
“But I think it reflects my belief that all systems/governments are pretty much all the same. They are all underpinned by ugly, greedy rich men with big guns. And, that at the end of the day, behind the Mandelas and the Gandhis – the kinds of people whose heroic faces we so love to wear on our T-shirts and shout slogans about – the new systems that come about because of their sacrifices and the movements they inspire, simply turn out to be pretty much like the old ones – underpinned by ugly greedy rich men with big guns. Nothing ever changes. I think Ettie knows this, that one system is as rubbish as the next, which is why she chooses not to become the new poster girl for other people’s agendas.
Ettie isn't the special girl with all the special powers we’ve come to expect in YA fiction. In fact, she isn't even a very nice person, yet she does have some redeeming qualities. Why do we cheer for her despite her not-so-nice side?
Bulbring explains: “There are lots of not so nice things about Ettie. She is duplicitous, cunning and manipulative, a thief, a liar and she is driven by self-preservation. But there are two qualities that allow us to forgive her and root for her. The first is that when she loves, she loves hard and true. The second is that she is loyal to those she loves. I think we like the fact that she is discerning – she doesn’t care who likes her and likes few people in return. She is not into celebrity culture. She spends her love and loyalty frugally and doesn’t spread it around much, but when she does, she becomes incredibly vulnerable. Her love and loyalty make her behave contrary to her nature and have the power to break her. She knows this, and despite it, she allows it to happen.”
The world Bulbring paints has very little hope in it, and Bulbring shares that The Mark started off as a short story she wrote several years ago when her nine-year-old-son was tricked out of some money by a con artist while they were on holiday in Italy.
She says: “I wanted to explore the relationship between a hardened scammer and the boy who falls in love with her. The short story died, but I couldn’t forget the idea about the con artist and the boy, so I thought I would try and turn it into a book. When I thought about a setting, I realised that it would never work in South Africa, or even abroad. I had to set it in a place that didn’t exist. I needed to create a new place and a different time for them. So that’s what I did. I am also a keen recycler and gardener, and one of the things that drives me mental is the control that big corporations have over the environment and the production of food. I wanted to explore the consequences that the actions of a few greedy bastards would have on our future.”
There are few other survivors in this future, but hadedas are a remnant from the past, and add a touch of magical realism to what might otherwise be straight SF. Bulbring concludes: “The Mark is set some 250 years after a time when the world blew up and cut the face of the moon in half. Very little survived apart from fleas and rats and, of course, cockroaches. Except I love birds, especially hadedas, which are prehistoric looking, extremely deceptive in that they are ungainly and ugly, except up close they are quite extraordinarily beautiful. The sound they make (like strangled vuvuzelas) when they circle above my house and wake me every morning, makes me feel glad to be alive. In The Mark, the muti nags takes the eyes out of the hadeda chicks so that they have a second sight. I chose them to the blind tellers of the prophecy because if there is one bird I imagined surviving a conflagration, it would be the hadeda. They look a billion years old and as if they are set to last another billion.”
Find out more about Edyth Bulbring at www.nb.co.za/authors/8506.
REVIEW
Title: The Mark
Author: Edyth Bulbring
Publisher: Tafelberg, 2014
Before you roll your eyes at what you may consider to be yet another YA dystopia read, you can be reassured that The Mark by Edyth Bulbring isn’t cast in the same mould as The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins as so many recent releases have been. Instead, the work has a grittier, more scratchy-behind-the-eyes feel that one would expect with George Orwell’s 1984.Ettie, also known as Juliet Seven, isn’t the special girl with the super abilities who is going to save the world and overthrow the evil ruling elite. She’s no one. She’s a drudge, a young woman fated to work in a menial job until she’s only fit for the Reject Dump. Her Mark, which she desperately tries to remove throughout, means she’s trapped in the roles cast for her by others.
We discover a world that is, as Bulbring puts it, “Post-Conflagration”. What exactly went wrong, we don’t find out, but it’s beside the point. Humanity and nearly all the life on the planet (apart from flies) have been driven to the edge of extinction. The Machine is all that keeps mankind going, regulating a rigid caste system in which only a few are lucky enough to number among the Elite. The sun is no longer a life-giving source of light, and any who do not play by the rules in this harsh world are deemed Savage, and cut off from society.
When not training for her future in service of the elite, Ettie is also part of a criminal underground that scams the “Posh”, and she makes no excuses for behaviour nor does she possess many redeeming qualities, beyond her rigorous self-interest. Though she’s clearly not a nice person – and some of her nasty comments are true gems – her devotion to her friend and companion Kitty, whom she will go to the ends of the earth to protect, shines through; and also her love of literature that transports her to magical worlds so vastly different from the reality in which she is immersed.
The main theme throughout the story is that of escape, and not being satisfied with preordained lots. Ettie’s attempts to break free from an oppressive system lead her through many unpredictable twists and turns; as soon as I thought I knew which direction Bulbring was going to take readers, she confounded my expectations.
The Mark is a fast-paced, gritty and uncomfortable read and Bulbring maintains a cracking pace, blending elements of SF dystopia with nuances of magical realism. Pick this one up if you’re looking for something slightly different.
June 2, 2015
The State of the Writing Thing
There's a lot going on in the publishing industry at the moment, and when I look at the traditional presses, I feel only one thing: despair. Recently, I attended a South African literary festival that had a pop-up shop. The most prominently displayed books that apparently *everyone* was talking about were roughly divided across the politics and celebrity crime topics. Nelson Mandela's autobiography stood cheek by jowl with Oscar Pistorius ... Actually, a whole passel of books about the crime. [YAWNS] And if my memory serves me correct, there were a few other real-life political and legal "thrillers" there too. By that time, however, my eyes had glazed over.
Today I saw that a certain author whose BDSM trilogy, which had started life as fanfiction, but after a little dentistry to remove fangs and be presented as another beast entirely, has just announced the release of a regurgitation the story from the love interest's point of view. I felt only one thing: despair.
I review books. I'm one of those reviewers who gives indie press and author-published works a chance, and I can assure you there are more gems hidden among the dross there – provided you are willing to dig a little, that is, and overlook the odd typo or dropped word.
Eventually Nerine did see her books in print.Which now brings me to my own writing. The past decade has been interesting. I first tried to write short stories. They were... less than successful. I see that now and fully understand why I could paper my entire bedroom wall with rejection slips received so many form rejections. But I got better. I started a writers' group (that is still going), and I practised and practised and practised.
When a good writer friend of mine said harsh things about my writing, I didn't burn her with fire curl up and die in a corner, I applied what I'd learnt to the next draft. Eventually I sold my first novel. Granted, it was to an indie press, but there I had a brilliant editor, who taught me so much about how to approach the editing process. She also helped prune away those bad habits.
I worked hard over the next few years. There were some successes. There were still many more rejections. But the fact was that every time I had one of those successes, I climbed that mountain a little further. Found yet another false summit to surpass, and continue working.
Yet now I've reached the point where I don't see a way forward anymore. The industry in general is so fixated on producing what it *thinks* will sell, that I see so many brilliant voices who've been travelling with me, go unsung or relegated to the backwaters while books that pander to trends or get overhyped for whatever reason, get all the limelight. (The good books are invariably on the bottom shelf.)
And now I sound like a hard-done-by creep.
But jawellnofine, I guess I'm just tired of trying. At this moment in time I'm finding it really hard to summon excitement for my writing when I see what I'm up against, that the good books by awesome authors that I love, get relegated to that bottom shelf.
I'm honest. My stories are strange. They'll only ever appeal to a small circle of rabid readers because the subject matter doesn't conform to what the general consensus wants. (And if I look at what the general consensus laps up, I despair, in any case).
So, I'm going to talk to any authors who feel like I do right now. Writing needs to be fun again. What got you writing in the first place? Write stories for yourself. Case in point: the stories I've been writing for Storm Constantine's Wraeththu Mythos for inclusion in her anthologies have been a breath of life for my writing. It's gotten me writing fanfiction again, which I did this Saturday when I could no longer work and didn't feel like watching telly. I've been reading fanfiction, and seeing how the authors just ENJOY their art and simply TELL STORIES. They don't do this for any expectations other than to entertain. It was good to be reminded of that again. Writing is fun.
And my writing? My novel, The Company of Birds, is probably never going to be of interest to the bigger publishers. I'm not losing sleep over it either. I'm writing this story because it has elements in it that *I* want to read. I'm not stressed about publishing it, because I know that it has a home with one of my publishers, should the agent query mill not succeed. Basically, I've stopped caring about trying to live up to the expectations. I'm writing this story because it makes *me* happy, and if it makes *me* happy, then there are chances it might please a few of my readers.
I'm not doing this for the money. I already have a day job, on top of freelance editing and writing that together bring in more money than my fiction ever has supplied. I'm okay with that. It means that I'm not under any pressure to conform to anyone's expectations but my own.
And that's something that I needed to remind myself of today.
Today I saw that a certain author whose BDSM trilogy, which had started life as fanfiction, but after a little dentistry to remove fangs and be presented as another beast entirely, has just announced the release of a regurgitation the story from the love interest's point of view. I felt only one thing: despair.
I review books. I'm one of those reviewers who gives indie press and author-published works a chance, and I can assure you there are more gems hidden among the dross there – provided you are willing to dig a little, that is, and overlook the odd typo or dropped word.
Eventually Nerine did see her books in print.Which now brings me to my own writing. The past decade has been interesting. I first tried to write short stories. They were... less than successful. I see that now and fully understand why I could paper my entire bedroom wall with rejection slips received so many form rejections. But I got better. I started a writers' group (that is still going), and I practised and practised and practised.When a good writer friend of mine said harsh things about my writing, I didn't burn her with fire curl up and die in a corner, I applied what I'd learnt to the next draft. Eventually I sold my first novel. Granted, it was to an indie press, but there I had a brilliant editor, who taught me so much about how to approach the editing process. She also helped prune away those bad habits.
I worked hard over the next few years. There were some successes. There were still many more rejections. But the fact was that every time I had one of those successes, I climbed that mountain a little further. Found yet another false summit to surpass, and continue working.
Yet now I've reached the point where I don't see a way forward anymore. The industry in general is so fixated on producing what it *thinks* will sell, that I see so many brilliant voices who've been travelling with me, go unsung or relegated to the backwaters while books that pander to trends or get overhyped for whatever reason, get all the limelight. (The good books are invariably on the bottom shelf.)
And now I sound like a hard-done-by creep.
But jawellnofine, I guess I'm just tired of trying. At this moment in time I'm finding it really hard to summon excitement for my writing when I see what I'm up against, that the good books by awesome authors that I love, get relegated to that bottom shelf.
I'm honest. My stories are strange. They'll only ever appeal to a small circle of rabid readers because the subject matter doesn't conform to what the general consensus wants. (And if I look at what the general consensus laps up, I despair, in any case).
So, I'm going to talk to any authors who feel like I do right now. Writing needs to be fun again. What got you writing in the first place? Write stories for yourself. Case in point: the stories I've been writing for Storm Constantine's Wraeththu Mythos for inclusion in her anthologies have been a breath of life for my writing. It's gotten me writing fanfiction again, which I did this Saturday when I could no longer work and didn't feel like watching telly. I've been reading fanfiction, and seeing how the authors just ENJOY their art and simply TELL STORIES. They don't do this for any expectations other than to entertain. It was good to be reminded of that again. Writing is fun.
And my writing? My novel, The Company of Birds, is probably never going to be of interest to the bigger publishers. I'm not losing sleep over it either. I'm writing this story because it has elements in it that *I* want to read. I'm not stressed about publishing it, because I know that it has a home with one of my publishers, should the agent query mill not succeed. Basically, I've stopped caring about trying to live up to the expectations. I'm writing this story because it makes *me* happy, and if it makes *me* happy, then there are chances it might please a few of my readers.
I'm not doing this for the money. I already have a day job, on top of freelance editing and writing that together bring in more money than my fiction ever has supplied. I'm okay with that. It means that I'm not under any pressure to conform to anyone's expectations but my own.
And that's something that I needed to remind myself of today.
May 27, 2015
Beastkeeper by Cat Hellisen #review
Title:
Beastkeeper
Author: Cat Hellisen
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co, 2015
One thing that Cat Hellisen does in her stories is immediately sweep readers away into her worlds that feel so tangible they might just exist on the very edge of our own, and this is the case with Beastkeeper. Though the story is aimed at children, and at a glance it’s a re-envisioning of "Beauty and the Beast", it’s very much appropriate for those of us who’re young of heart, and there was much here that spoke to me as an adult.
Sarah’s parents have never set down roots, and she’s spent all the years of her short life constantly moving to new towns and new schools. Consequently, she’s a lonely child and doesn’t have any friends. Her parents are everything to her, so when her mother leaves the family one night, she is devastated. To add to her burden, her father falls apart at the seams too, and it’s up to Sarah to keep things together – going to school and ensuring that the household limps along.
She finds refuge in her “Not-a-Forest”, a small vacant lot where she meets a strange boy, who may or may not become a friend – only he knows more than he’s letting on. She doesn’t have time to find out, however, as her father packs their life up and takes Sarah to go stay with her grandparents, who live in a run-down castle in the middle of a menacing forest. Here she discovers how her family has existed under a curse for years, and that she and her father are also trapped within the cycle of maleficent magic.
We follow Sarah as she tries to unravel the knots of hatred and obsession that have poisoned her grandparents and destroyed the lives of her parents, but in order to do so, she needs to be brave and travel through some truly dark places.
As always, Hellisen seems to effortlessly touch on the universality of fairy tales to delve even deeper and bring up underlying themes. One one level, this is a children’s quest to break a curse. On another, it’s a parable of how twisted love has soured to hate and indifference, and how one young person can find it in herself to step outside the trap of a destructive cycle. This is a dark, painful and elegant tale, made all the more beautiful, because Hellisen weaves with mystery and doesn’t hand over all the answers on a plate.
Author: Cat Hellisen
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co, 2015
One thing that Cat Hellisen does in her stories is immediately sweep readers away into her worlds that feel so tangible they might just exist on the very edge of our own, and this is the case with Beastkeeper. Though the story is aimed at children, and at a glance it’s a re-envisioning of "Beauty and the Beast", it’s very much appropriate for those of us who’re young of heart, and there was much here that spoke to me as an adult.Sarah’s parents have never set down roots, and she’s spent all the years of her short life constantly moving to new towns and new schools. Consequently, she’s a lonely child and doesn’t have any friends. Her parents are everything to her, so when her mother leaves the family one night, she is devastated. To add to her burden, her father falls apart at the seams too, and it’s up to Sarah to keep things together – going to school and ensuring that the household limps along.
She finds refuge in her “Not-a-Forest”, a small vacant lot where she meets a strange boy, who may or may not become a friend – only he knows more than he’s letting on. She doesn’t have time to find out, however, as her father packs their life up and takes Sarah to go stay with her grandparents, who live in a run-down castle in the middle of a menacing forest. Here she discovers how her family has existed under a curse for years, and that she and her father are also trapped within the cycle of maleficent magic.
We follow Sarah as she tries to unravel the knots of hatred and obsession that have poisoned her grandparents and destroyed the lives of her parents, but in order to do so, she needs to be brave and travel through some truly dark places.
As always, Hellisen seems to effortlessly touch on the universality of fairy tales to delve even deeper and bring up underlying themes. One one level, this is a children’s quest to break a curse. On another, it’s a parable of how twisted love has soured to hate and indifference, and how one young person can find it in herself to step outside the trap of a destructive cycle. This is a dark, painful and elegant tale, made all the more beautiful, because Hellisen weaves with mystery and doesn’t hand over all the answers on a plate.
