Ben Aaronovitch's Blog, page 23

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Japanese Release Day!

Whispers Under Ground Released in Japanese

At least I think it's today, not being able to read Japanese it can be hard for me to tell.

Space, Time, Machine and Monster

When?/Pan?
Saturday 19 October 2013
3.00 - 4.00 pm

Where?/Man?
The Riverfront Theatre and Arts Centre
In Newport the beating cosmopolitan heart of 21st Century Wales.
NP20 1HG

What?/Pa?
Making Sure You Know Which Story You’re Telling
Yes I shall be imparting this crucial piece of writing wisdom, plus rambling anecdotes and answering questions on whatever it is people want to ask questions about.

Tickets: £5.00

Details are here.

Locations, Locations, Locations; Whispers Under Ground

 Whispers Under Ground

Everytime I do one of these maps I find myself having to revise it as I remember new locations. Still here is the current Whispers Under Ground map. The map for Broken Homes will be posted to coincide with the US publication of same - along with a useful glossery for those that don't speak English proper.



View Whispers Under Ground in a larger map

Currently Reading: The Hairdresser of Harare

The Hairdresser of Harare by Tendai Huchu

Vimbai is the star hairdresser of her salon, the smartest in Harare, Zimbabwe, until the enigmatic Dumisani appears. Losing many of her best customers to this good-looking, smooth-talking young man, Vimbai fears for her job, vital if she’s to provide for her young child. But in a remarkable reversal the two becomes allies, Dumi renting a room from Vimbai, then inviting her to a family wedding, where to her surprise, he introduces her to his rich parents as his ‘girlfriend’. Soon they are running their own Harare salon, attracting the wealthiest and most powerful clients in the city. But disaster is near, as Vimbai soon uncovers Dumi’s secret, a discovery that will result in brutality and tragedy, testing their relationship to the very limit.
The Hairdresser of Harare is a stylish, funny and sophisticated first-hand account of life today in Zimbabwe’s capital city, confounding stereotypes and challenging injustice with equal fearlessness. This is an upbeat, charming, but at times heart-breaking, story of friendship, prejudice and forgiveness from the heart of contemporary Africa.
I've almost finished this one and I heartily recomended it.

Splattered with Shit

Now I'm not going to get back into the argument I had on Book Smugglars and Strange Horizons but this was brought to my attention.



Now I thought I was pretty civil all the way through but apparently my responses put me in the same league as whatever vile person makes rape threats against female bloggers and dooms me to occupy the same circle of hell as the homophobic Orson Scott Card.

Ana can argue that my response to her essay was gendered but if you read the sequence it's pretty obvious that she came up with that argument only after she was called out by two other commentators. Her evidence consists of the assertion that I am man and she is a woman and she didn't like my tone. It's just intellectually dishonest and beneath contempt.

Whether the wider argument that broke out between Ana & Renay and whoever it was they were arguing with on twitter, was gendered I couldn't say because I was concentrating on the discussion I thought we were having about writers, fans and industry intrusion.

I'd like to thank Rose Fox for the very clear explanation as to why author/fan discussions will always be fraught which has helped me come to my decision.

I hereby resign from SFF fandom, or whatever its called. From now on I shall no longer particpate or even take any notice of fan discussions about my work or, indeed, SFF in general. Once my current commitments have expired I will cease to part in general panels at conventions except to discuss the art and craft of writing or to answer questions about projects I'm related to.

I liked being a fan, I liked taking part in forums and conventions, I liked discussing issues and writing and the things I felt passionately about but I just can't be bothered to put up this shit.

CAVEATS
I'm not fishing for compliments or gestures of support, nor am I looking for reprisals. I am simply clarifying my position. I will continue to blog and tweet as much as ever but now in it will be fully in my identity as a writer of books and a mundane.

Like Goldy or Bronzey...

My mother was a woman of fiercely expressed opinions - that the state should seize the commanding heights of the economy, that the Hungarians had it coming in 1956 and that she didn't know the meaning of the word sarcasm. The problem with the last one was that we, as her family, were never sure she wasn't lying when she said it. Certainly she often said things that sounded suspiciously sarcastic - 'I love it when everyone argues around the table' for example - but she continued to deny, until her dying day, that she even knew the meaning of the word. 
I found myself in a similar quandary when reading the excellent and hilarious Dairy of a Fleet Street Fox. In one chapter the Fleet Street Fox (in character) goes into an extended diatribe about how, in modern society, nobody, not politicians or members of the public, will take responsibility for their actions. There is at least a page and a half (it's hard to tell with a kindle) of this with named examples and how this trend to 'twatishness' is growing worse. 
Then, practically one page later, she does an equally long diatribe about how if journalists are racist, misogynistic, misanthropes it's not their fault because these traits are forced on them by repeated exposure to the venality and stupidity of the public. Now if the irony of this juxtaposition is lost on you then I commend for the Order of the Baldrick and suggest you probably read something else. 
My problem is I can't tell whether the Fleet Street Fox is being ironic or not or whether she totally wrote the passages without being aware of the hypocrisy that underlies them. Now I think she's being ironic but like with my mum I suspect I'm never going to know for sure.

Where did you get the idea for Peter Grant from....

I was just asked this question again and I thought, haven't I already answered that - so to make it easy to find all the bits I've consolidated all the links.

Start at the top and work your way down...




 

 

  

Currently Reading

Fallen Heroes by Barry Nugent

A computer disk no one can read but everyone wants. An orphan whose visions of death and destruction hold the key to his past and future. A pair of master thieves hunted for a crime they did not commit. An investigator of the unknown, a stalker of demons. A government agent whose murder investigation will bring him face to face with a tragic mistake from his past. 
All connected, all unwitting pawns in a plan set in motion over nine centuries before their birth. Pursued across the globe by enemies both human and supernatural they must overcome their mistrust of each other and uncover the truth before it destroys them and unleashes a malevolent and ancient evil upon an unsuspecting world.

Alpha Papa's Cuddly Toy

Went to see ALPHA PAPA at the cinema with the Evil Monster Boy(1) and while I don't really like the comedy of embarressment I was happy to make an exception. As we were on our way home the EMB pointed out that the filmakers had avoided the main pitfall when turning TV into cinema - that of trying to big everything up. Instead Alan Partridge continues to be, in his own imagining, a big man in a small world. Recomended.
(1) And he's sodding enourmous these days so probably I'm going to have to stop calling him that - in  public at least.

ALPHA PAPA
UK (2013)
Writing credits
Peter Baynham, Armando Iannucci, Steve Coogan, Neil Gibbons and Rob Gibbons

Directed by
Declan Lowney


One sequence that had me in hysterics was Alan lip syncing to Roachford's Cuddly Toy while driving into work. The EMB couldn't understand why I was laughing so hard and singing along to the chorus but you really have to be sad white boy in your late forties/early fifties to understand why it was both joyous and heartbreaking.
So to prolong the moment here is Roachford's Cuddly Toy which I also declare to be Peter Grant's official theme tune...