Jane Lindskold's Blog, page 120

FF: More Short Than Long

The Friday Fragments lists what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles. But this week I have because so much of what I’ve been reading is shorter works!

Short Stuff

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive recommendation list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  Prequel to “Miles” stories, how his parents met told from Cordelia’s POV.  Can someone who is more familiar with the series than I am fill me in on why, after the story is clearly done, the long “body collecting” bit is tacked on the end.  Is this Fan Service of some sort?

The Sword Woman by Robert E. Howard.  Wanted to read some early takes on “strong female characters” after writing my two WW on the subject.  Also read (from a different volume) “Shadow of the Vulture,” which was Howard’s one “Red Sonya” story.  Both Dark Agnes and Red Sonya are presented as “historical” not “fantasy” characters.  Both are basically men in drag.  Dark Agnes’ mantra is that she wants to be viewed as a man, not a woman.  ‘Nuff said.

Sammy Keyes and the Hollywood Mummy by Wendelin Van Draanen.  Do an adult’s dreams need to vanish when she has kids?  Sammy’s mom doesn’t think so.  And the mummy isn’t who you think it is!

In Progress:

Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling.  Audiobook.  Short stories, presented as factual reports, focusing on entanglements, romantic and otherwise in British India.  Two at least provide further details of characters who appear in Kipling’s novel, Kim.

The Sky Chariots Saga, “Blessing Sky” (installment two of a serial).  I really don’t like reading on a Kindle, I find.

Also:

Non-fiction short articles.  Lots.  Quite interesting.

TT: Wondering About Interpersonal Space

News Flash!  “Liz H” is the final winner in the “Help Make Artemis This Summer’s Hot Destination” contest.  Many thanks to all of you who participated.  Special thanks again to Tori Hansen for the picture of Sand Shadow at the beach!

JANE: A couple of weeks ago, when we were chatting about some of the works of Arthur C. Clarke, you mentioned that he didn’t restrict himself to science and spaceships, he explored questions of human sexuality as well.

Explorations of Self and Sexuality

ALAN: Yes – his own favourite of his novels was The Songs of Distant Earth which was published in 1986 but which still reads very well today. Among the many themes that it explores is the idea of homosexual attraction as a character motivator – there’s nothing gratuitous about it, it is an integral part of the story and Clarke handles the theme tastefully and passionately. Actually, it’s really rather moving.

JANE: Yes.  And SF is good for that sort of exploration because it’s happening somewhere and somewhen else, not here and now – and potentially threatening.

Although these days, when I hear Heinlein mentioned, it seems to be mostly in the context of military SF and his “juvie” novels, he certainly did a lot of exploration into human sexualities in his novels.  These were no less “SF” for all that.

His novel I Will Fear No Evil blew me away when I first read it.  In it, his main character – an elderly man in very bad health, arranges to have his brain transplanted into the first available donor.  He forgets to specify gender and the first donor just happens to be his young, beautiful, sexy secretary.

So now the old man is a hot young woman.  But Eunice may be dead, but apparently she isn’t gone.  She continues on as his spirit guide…

I Will Fear No Evil certainly wasn’t Heinlein’s best novel, but it was very different from anything else I’d ever read.  For that reason, I’ll always remember it fondly.

ALAN: The ideas in I Will Fear No Evil were fascinating, but the writing left much to be desired. I’m much more fond of Stranger in a Strange Land which explores a lot of different sexualities, some of which are rather odd even by today’s standards! It’s one of my favourite books, and I’ve read it many times.

JANE: Oh, yes…  Stranger in a Strange Land was given to me when I was fifteen.  Talk about eye opening!  Again, the SF element allowed Heinlein to explore these oddities in a non-threatening context because Valentine Michael Smith, while human in form, is alien in sensibility.  He can’t be expected to know what is “normal” and what is not.

ALAN: Can I go off on a brief tangent, please?

JANE: Absolutely!

ALAN: Stranger in a Strange Land is available in two editions. There’s the novel as originally published in 1961, and there’s Heinlein’s original, uncut manuscript which was published about thirty years later. Heinlein cut the novel for publication by going through the manuscript and tightening almost every sentence by removing extraneous words and rearranging the phrasing. No scenes were cut, no ideas were omitted, he just worked on the words, and he cut out about 60,000 of them!

JANE: 60,000 words is about the length of a slim paperback.  That’s a lot of cutting.

ALAN: When you compare the two, the edited version from 1961 is by far the stronger book. The uncut manuscript is flabby and discursive whereas the cut version is very tightly focused. If Heinlein had done the same cutting exercise on I Will Fear No Evil, I suspect he might very well have had another classic on his hands. Sadly he never did that and the book remains almost too flabby to read. What a wasted opportunity.

JANE: I read that Heinlein was very ill when I Will Fear No Evil was due to be published.  He probably didn’t have the energy to do that level of editing and, since at that time he was one of the pre-eminent writers of SF, I doubt his editors wanted to put pressure on him.

As I said when we started this discussion, one of the elements of SF that definitely contributed to the Sense of Wonder element was the exploration into what you might call “inner space.”  Often this included psionic (mental or psychic) powers.  Even John W. Campbell who was considered the bastion of “hard” SF considered psionics valid.

The psionic ability that certainly received the most attention was telepathy – or mind reading – along with empathy, which is the ability to read emotions.  You can’t explore how possessing these abilities would shape a culture without speculating on how being able to read minds would impact on sexual relationships.

ALAN: This is a minor theme in Robert Silverberg’s stunningly brilliant novel Dying Inside. And I vaguely recall that James Tiptree Jr. used it in some of her stories as well.

JANE: Another author who did a lot with telepathy was Marion Zimmer Bradley, who built her entire Darkover culture around a ruling class that was a ruling class precisely because it possessed psionic abilities.  These, by the by, were acquired in a very skiffy fashion – crossbreeding with the aliens who were the original inhabitants of the planet but who, by the time humans arrived, had nearly died out.

Sexual relations – and the restriction of the same – played a greater and greater part in her novels.

I discovered her works when I was in college and they certainly gave me a lot to think about.  I was particularly taken with a sub-section of novels having to do with how the psionics of Darkover came to realize that their attitudes toward sexual relations between members of the “circles” and “towers” that dominated the use of such powers had created wide-reaching problems.

ALAN: I think you are quite right about the Darkover books. The later novels in the series portray this brilliantly. I’m particularly fond of The Heritage of Hastur (1975) which explores a lot of sexual themes. Rather like the Clarke novel we mentioned before, it also takes the view that homosexuality is a normal variant of human sexuality.

Marion Zimmer Bradley was a writer with great potential but she lost me with The Mists of Avalon. It is her most famous and popular book, but I’m afraid I bounced right off it and I never returned to her after that.

JANE: She started losing me with the books about the “Free Amazons,” I fear.  The Mists of Avalon didn’t work for me either…  It seemed excruciatingly dry.

ALAN: SF used to be a very chaste literature. Someone (I’m not sure who) once remarked that SF authors were very immature and they didn’t write sex scenes in their books because they never really got over being scared that their mother might read them…

JANE: Oh!  I like that.  My first published short story (which will be included in the collection I’m just about ready to release) had a sexual element…  I didn’t worry about that when I was writing it, because I don’t think I believed it would actually get published.  It did.  My mom still talks to me.

What do you think led to the change?

ALAN: I think it was a product of the times. The liberal ideas that were part of the culture of the 1960s and 1970s freed up the field and the new dimension that this added to all literature (not just science fiction) gave us a lot of interesting speculations. Philip Jose Farmer was particularly notorious for this, and his books ran the gamut from sheer unadulterated pornography, clearly designed to be read with only one hand, through to some much more thoughtful works.

For example, A Feast Unknown is a pastiche of pulp fiction, erotica, and horror fiction which was published in 1969 and which still makes for uncomfortable reading today as it cleverly explores the complex relationship between sex and violence.

The short story collection Strange Relations (1960) uses sexual encounters between humans and other alien creatures to explore problems of personal development. Farmer insists that human integrity requires that people must develop a respectful flexibility to strange situations (and believe me, some of the situations he describes in these stories are very strange). Applying intelligence is a pre-requisite for all reasonable responses – without it, everything falls apart. And of course, prejudice is simply not possible in these circumstances. Invariably, argues Farmer, prejudice derives from lack of thought. It’s instinctive as opposed to rational. He makes a convincing case.

JANE: “Notorious” is a good word for Farmer and sex.  I liked some of his books very much, but I wish I could vacuum Lord Tyger from my memory.

ALAN: Oh I don’t know – I thought Lord Tyger portrayed a rather more realistic picture of a boy growing up alone in the jungle than Burroughs managed to paint with Tarzan. But I agree that it did have more than its fair share of grotesqueries.

However, we musn’t get so serious that we can’t have a laugh. John Sladek wrote a very funny short story called Machine Screw in which a fifteen foot tall sex-crazed robot runs amok and starts raping automobiles. There’s also the very entertaining Great Balls of Fire! A History of Sex in Science Fiction (1977) by Harry Harrison

JANE: Is the Harrison fiction or non-fiction?

ALAN: It’s non-fiction. It concentrates mostly on science fiction illustrations, but it does have a fair amount to say about the stories as well.

JANE: I’ll keep an eye out for it.  The way artistic depictions shape interpretation of text is of perennial interest to me.

I have several other authors, I’ve thought of as holding “Sense of Wonder” for me, shall we move toward a grand finale next time?

Rolling Along at Breakneck Speed

News Flash!: Artemis Invaded was featured on Locus magazines’ “New and Notable” list in the August issue.  I am VERY happy.

And now, on to our regularly scheduled Wander.  Warning: This one is a bit odd(er than usual).

Scribbles and Story Cubes

On Sunday, we usually game.  However, most of our gang has abandoned us for Scotland.  We three orphans (me, Jim, and Rowan Derrick) decided we’d get together anyhow.

I suggested to Rowan, “Maybe we can do something fast and creative, like write a story.”  Rowan immediately nodded, “Like the 48 Hour Film project.  Cool!  Let’s do it.”

Now, I’d seen something called “Rory’s Story Cubes,” in a local toy store.  I thought they’d be just what we needed to keep us from spending too much time trying to come up with an idea.  We’d roll the cubes and see where inspiration took us.

After dinner, fortified with coffee and some lovely trifle, we rolled the nine cubes.  The first set of images (which included a sheep, a magnifying glass, and an abacus) reminded me and Jim so much of Ngaio Marsh’s novel Died in the Wool that we knew we couldn’t get any further.

The second set, Jim managed to string into a more or less comprehensible sentence, which was a marvel in and of itself, but it didn’t take us anywhere.

The third set included the following: masks of comedy and tragedy; an “alien” face; a pyramid; a sheep, a house; a tepee; an apartment building; a magnifying glass; and a bridge with water running under it.

We grinned at each other.  I grabbed pen and paper.  Here (only slightly revised, mostly where I couldn’t read my handwriting) is the story we came up with, augmented along the way with further rolls of the dice when details were needed.  Without further ado, here’s:

Dirk Lancer: Paranormal Detective

Five years ago, Dirk Lancer had been the hottest star in film.  Then there had been the unfortunate incident of the drunken, nude bathing in a fountain in Rome.  The problem hadn’t been the drunken, nude bathing, but that the photos had shown all too clearly that – far from the six-pack abs for which he was famous – Dirk had developed a rather decided paunch.

Now Dirk would take any job he could get, including a role in a paranormal mystery investigator reality show.  The pilot episode was being shot in Egypt, on unlocking the secrets of the pyramids.

“Hasn’t this been done before?” Dirk asked.

“Of course, Dirk, but we’ve got a special twist.”  The producer winked.

“What is it?”

“If we told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Hey!  I’m an actor.  I can act surprised.”

The producer shook his head.  “This has got to be for real, Dirk.  That’s why it’s called ‘reality T.V.’”

So that’s why when Dirk – after crawling on hands and knees down a tight passage – came face to face with a green-faced alien, he did his best to seem very surprised.

Dirk pushed himself to his knees and held up a magnifying glass in his best paranormal investigator style.  “Oh, my gosh!  This is amazing!  Can you see what I’m seeing?  A real alien!  I’m going to try to communicate with it.”

Although the “alien” was blocking him, Dirk’s knees were hurting, so he pushed to where he could stand more or less upright, wondering as he did so why the set had been so badly designed.

Speaking clearly and distinctly, Dirk said, “Do You Under-Stand Me?”

The alien replied, “Who do you think taught you monkeys how to talk?”

“So you speak English?” Dirk said, making his eyes really wide and his expression astonished.

“And French, Swahili, San, Mandarin, and Icelandic.”

Dirk paused, waiting for someone to yell “Cut!” since he had no idea what he was supposed to do next.  Then did he realize that he and the alien were alone, with not a camera or production person in sight.  Not only that, they were standing under a tree in a flower-filled meadow in which three very different houses stood: a Cape Cod, a plains teepee, and a modern high-rise.

“So, Dirk!” said the alien, his expression alive with the manic enthusiasm only seen on game show hosts.  “You have five minutes to choose which house you are going to set on fire.  Yes!  You are a contestant on ‘Burn, Baby, Burn!’ the hottest game show in seven solar systems.”

Dirk looked around desperately, but his producer was nowhere to be seen.  In fact, the only other living thing present – other than himself and his green companion – was a singularly stupid-looking sheep grazing by a bridge under a picturesque brook.

Him and his f-king ‘surprise, Dirk thought, editing his language for television.  Fine!  I can cope!

He turned to Green Boy, as he had mentally dubbed the alien.  “I’ll take House Number One, the Cape Cod.”

“An excellent choice!” Green Boy replied.  “Here’s your kit, including this week’s Mystery Ingredient: a genuine, fully-functional Tesla Coil!”

The sheep baaed appreciatively.

Dirk had no idea what a Tesla coil was, but he tried to look smarter than he felt.

Green Boy smiled and said to Dirk, “You have thirty-five time units to set your house on fire or else you Burn, Baby, Burn!”

Green Boy vanished, as did the teepee and the high-rise, leaving Dirk to examine his supplies.  Most prominent was a bulky box with a sort of pillar coming out of the center.  At the top of the pillar was a halo-like thing.  The whole thing hummed gently.  Dirk guessed this must be the Tesla coil.

Feeling desperate, he looked at the other items in his kit.  There was a key; a chess piece (Dirk thought it was a castle, but maybe it was a rook); an incandescent light bulb; several napkins with floral embroidery; and an electric blue plastic lightning bolt about a foot long.

With a rising sense of panic, Dirk picked up the lightning bolt.  To his shock, it crackled in his hand and a white-hot spark fried a nearby flower.  For the first time since he had crept into the pyramid, Dirk felt hope.

At this point, the sheep looked up and baaed, “One time unit elapsed,” then returned to grazing.

With vague memories of Ben Franklin from grammar school history, Dirk picked up the key and turned it over in his hand, putting his best “thoughtful” expression on his ruggedly handsome features.

“Two time units spent,” intoned the counting sheep.

“Hey!” Dirk protested.  “That can’t be right!”

“Three time units spent,” said the sheep with an ovine chuckle.

“That’s it!” Dirk said, remembering the pyramid.  Uncasing the magnifying glass from his paranormal investigator’s utility belt, he raced toward the house.

When he’d been a rather naughty boy, he’d delighted in using a magnifying glass not unlike this one to set on fire the hair of the little girl who sat in front of him.  She’d had very dry hair and it had more smoked than burnt, but the principle should work.

He’d need to get inside and find something flammable – or inflammable.  English really was weird.

The door was locked!  But, with a flash of brilliance, Dirk remembered the key.  He ran back to get it.

“Five time units elapsed,” baaed the counting sheep.

“What happened to four!” Dirk protested.

“Ten time units elapsed,” the sheep said around a mouthful of dandelions.

“Mint jelly!” Dirk cursed softly, as he grabbed the kit and ran back to the house.

He fumbled for the key, shoved it in the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a completely empty house without as much as a pillow to burn.

In the distance, Dirk could have sworn he heard Green Boy announcing a commercial break.

Fishing for ideas, Dirk saw the light bulb.  The fixtures were empty.  Could he create an electrical fire?  He had no idea, and he still didn’t have anything to burn, even if he did start a fire.  Wait, he did!  He stripped off his shirt and trousers, revealing his newly sculpted body, clad only in camouflage print bikini briefs.

Next, Dirk ran to retrieve the Tesla coil for, with sudden insight, he realized that he had to include the Tesla coil or lose valuable points.  Whatever else he was, Dirk Lancer was not a loser.

Using the magnifying glass would take too long and he had no idea how to start an electrical fire but – good old Ben Franklin – Dirk remembered that electricity and lightning were the same thing!  He figured he’d just toss that useless Tesla coil on the fire, too.  As he was packing his clothes around the base, he saw an on-off switch.

“What the f—,” he said, forgetting this was T.V., and flipped the switch to “on.”

The halo at the top of the pillar erupted with bright streams of purplish-blue electricity.  The electric stream ran up his arm, chased over his sculpted biceps, and was channeled by the plastic lightning bolt he held in his left hand.

With terrific force, a bolt of pure energy shot forth and ignited his pants leg.  The rest of his clothes quickly burst into flame.  The flames spread with frightening rapidity to the cheap fabricated walls of the Cape Cod, now revealed as little more than a shoddy set.

Dirk realized that he’d better get out of there and flew out the door, the muscles of his thighs pumping.

“Twenty-four time units elapsed,” the counting sheep baaed.

As Dirk collapsed under the tree, the alien reappeared.  “We have one time unit left!  Will Dirk succeed?  Or will he burn?”

Dirk stared anxiously at the house.  Would his clothes provide enough tinder?  What if the Tesla coil…

… EXPLODED!

Green Boy all but danced in place.  “Congratulations!  Your success in this challenge will give you a great advantage in the next contest.  Join us next week for “We Taught Monkeys to Talk, But Can They Learn?”

“Thirty-five time unites elapsed,” counted the sheep.

THE END

Hey…  What do you want for about two hours?  Hope you enjoyed!

FF: Women in POV

Except for Falling Free, which is mostly told from two male points of view, although there are at least two female POV characters, everything I read this past week had female POV.  Purest accident.

The Friday Fragments lists what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

Kwahe’e Snags Karen Memory

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive recommendation list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Mustache Mary by Wendelin Van Draanen.  Missing treasure and family feuds provide the backdrop for more serious questions of friendship and peer pressure.  More mature concerns like boys and substance abuse enter for the first time in the series.  A very large pig provides humor.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  Focuses on the genetically engineered “quaddies.”  (I’m guessing at the spelling since this is an audiobook!  More emphasis on “event” than on character, which was a slight disappointment, but still fun.

Karen Memory by Elizabeth Bear.  More substance than much steampunk, with interesting, complex characters.  I had trouble envisioning some of the “steampunk” devices, which didn’t matter until a sewing machine became key to the plot.

In Progress:

Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  Prequel to “Miles” stories, how his parents met told, to this point at least, from Cordelia’s POV.

The Sword Woman by Robet E. Howard.  Wanted to read some early takes on “strong female characters” after writing my two WW on the subject.

Also:

Finished proofing Curiosities!  (That’s my forthcoming short story collection…)

TT: The Golden Age of Wonder

News Flash!  This week’s winner of the Help Make Artemis This Summer’s Hot Destination contest is Steven Sheeley.

Remember…  The contest ends on August 10.  Need the details?  Don’t miss out on your chance!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled Tangent.

ALAN: Okay, Jane.  Last time I asked you what sort of stories inspire “sense of wonder” in you and you weaseled on me.  No more delays!

JANE: My problem is that in order to give you a fair answer, I need to Tangent off onto a point…

Ready?

Wonderfully Fortuitous

ALAN: Ooh! A tangent! I love those.

JANE: Someone said something about the age for discovering SF or Sense of Wonder or something is twelve.  I can’t remember who, do you?

ALAN: Let me see…

A rather obscure American fan called Peter Graham apparently first used the sentence “The golden age of science fiction is twelve” in an article published in a fanzine called Void in 1957. Less obscurely, the critic David Hartwell used the saying as the title of a chapter in his collection of critical essays Age of Wonders (Walker 1984, republished by Tor in 1996). The saying is also used (without attribution) in the Clute & Nicholls encyclopedia.

Does that pin it down sufficiently for you?

JANE: Fantastically…  I suspect Hartwell was paraphrasing Graham.  Hartwell’s extraordinarily well-read in the history of SF and SF-related commentary

In any case, what I was trying to get at is that I don’t have that single moment of discovery.  As I mentioned many Tangents ago, I ambled into SF/F through random selections from the library’s paperback book racks.  I certainly was a confirmed SF/F reader by age twelve, but I don’t recall any gateway book or author.  For me, it was pretty much ALL sense of wonder.

I didn’t even have many friends who read “the stuff” until I went to college.  That’s when I both met other people who read SF/F and had access to their libraries.  So, for me, there are two stages of discovery, the random one and the one where I read a lot of books that “everyone” was reading.

I hope that helps explain why I’m having so much trouble talking about specific authors.  Until college, I simply wasn’t paying any attention.

ALAN: Time for yet another tangent. I find what you just said to be a little weird. I always know the authors of books. It doesn’t matter what genre the book comes from, the author (and often the title) invariably sticks in my head, if only so that I can search out other books by those people if I enjoyed their work or avoid them like the plague if I didn’t! I simply can’t imagine not knowing.

JANE: This trait doubtless led you to becoming the excellent book reviewer that you are…

 As for me, I rarely know the author or the title…  I think that’s one reason I find the current trend of trying to make authors into celebrities so weird.  But that’s another topic entirely…

 In any case, acknowledging my handicap, let me see what I can come up with.

Anne McCaffery’s first two “Dragonrider of Pern” books really caught my attention.  I never viewed them as Fantasy.  Threadfall was some sort of alien element, not a “monster” or “magic.”  In fact, the series lost me when it began to focus more on Pern’s larger community.  The White Dragon, which was very popular, turned me off.  Everyone shouldn’t get dragons…  Certainly not huggy, crippled dragons.

But those first two books really grabbed me.  I read the more YA Dragonsong, Dragonsinger, Dragondrums and enjoyed (especially Dragondrums).  However, I read them with my “Fantasy” hat on, if you know what I mean.

ALAN: Oh gosh! You and I have so much in common. Like you, I loved the first two dragon books and like you I considered them to be SF, not fantasy. They ended on a bit of a cliffhanger and so I was eagerly looking forward to The White Dragon. I had to wait a long time, but it eventually appeared. And I absolutely hated it. I’ve been utterly unable to read Anne McCaffery ever since.

JANE: Ah…  Your “Rama” moment.  I understand completely.

ALAN: Shortly after the publication of The White Dragon, I was at a convention where a fan asked Anne when she’d be writing some more dragon books.

“Never!” thundered Anne, and she went on to explain that she was bored by dragons and bored with Pern. Unfortunately, in later years she really needed the money, and so she returned to Pern again and again, for purely commercial reasons. But I can’t help feeling that her heart wasn’t in it.

JANE: I didn’t pursue Pern, either, although I dipped in occasionally, hoping to find some of the same feeling I’d gotten from the first couple of books. There was lots of interesting material and some nice world-building, but the Sense of Wonder wasn’t there.  If I wanted to read peasant politics, I’d rather read straight, unapologetic Fantasy.

However, I didn’t reject the books I’d liked and, in fact, a few years ago Jim and I gave them to our then high-schooled aged nephew, who apparently enjoyed them.

ALAN: Oh good – it’s always nice to introduce a new generation to the books we enjoyed.

JANE: Jim and I do a lot of that, actually.  Our nieces and nephews are resigned to receiving books as gifts for Christmas and birthdays.  Actually, “resigned” may be too strong.  I just heard from my sister that the least readerly of her children was so happy with the book we sent him (baseball anecdotes) that he’s asked for it to be his bedtime story.

ALAN: That’s my job as well – I’m in charge of books for my godson and his sister, a responsibility I take very seriously indeed.

JANE: Maybe we should form a club…  The Serious Book Givers…

But, we tangent again, which seems to be the theme of this week’s piece more than ever.  Next time, I’d really like to bring up something that occurred to me when we chatted about Arthur C. Clarke a few weeks ago.

For now, I’ll leave you wondering!

Crazy Busy

It’s been a crazy, busy week…  That and a tree have me thinking about how important weeks – or at least days – that are not crazy-busy are to a writer.  First, the crazy-busy stuff…

Imagination in a Tree

Curiosities, my forthcoming short story collection, is now proofed and in the hands of the production people.  Will we make our goal of having it ready for Bubonicon at the end of August?  Stayed tuned…

Last week, I mentioned that I’d written some pieces for Marshal Zeringue’s  Campaign for the American Reader blog network.  The link for Artemis Invaded in “My Book, the Movie” wasn’t available until later in the week.  Just in case you missed it, here it is.

I also put in a bunch of time on those “backstage” things everyone assumes a full-time writer has an assistant to do.

And that brings me to the tree…

About a year ago, the house diagonally behind my own sold to some people who, on an erratic schedule, have a passel of kids visiting.  They must like those kids because one of the first things they did (well before the cosmetic work on the front yard, which is what most people think is important) was transform the big mulberry tree in the back yard into an inviting play space for the kids.

They did this by artistic pruning that eliminated a bunch of small lower limbs, leaving only those strong enough to take the weight of an adult.  This, combined with the tree’s own sturdy and not overly tall, structure, created what seems to be the most wonderful place ever for games of pretend.

 In warm weather I work with the office windows open.  I’ve quite enjoyed the variety of games I’ve overheard unfolding.

There was the superhero one that involved Fireball and Thunder – and other heroes, too.  Those were just the names I heard yelled most often.

There was one that involved lots of wolf howls.  I had to restrain myself and not howl back.  I didn’t want to break the illusion that they were playing unheard and unseen.

There was one that I couldn’t guess the theme of, but during which one girl kept calling “Roxy!  Roxy!”  At first I thought she was trying to get the attention of one of the other kids, but then I realized that Roxy was one of the other characters – possibly a completely imaginary person.

There was one where “Bombs Away!” was a key element.  I couldn’t decide if they were imagining themselves on the decks of a ship or of a plane or of something else entirely.  There did not seem to be any actual dropping of anything although, given the heat that day, water balloons would have been a good addition.

There was the day the tree was definitely a pirate ship.

And, just a few days ago, I glimpsed a Ninja.  Well, a partial ninja.  He had a mask/head wrap, appropriate upper body garb, and a very nicely curved plastic sword.  His lower body, however, sported khaki shorts and sneakers without socks.

It’s nice to see kids playing without adult supervision or input.  It’s lovely seeing kids play unstructured, especially when so many of the kids I know seem tightly scheduled – often by their own choice – into various afterschool activities or summer camps or sports teams.

It’s nice to see kids just pretend.  Without a computer game or an I-pad or a phone screen as an intermediary.  I don’t have anything against structured play.  (I play computer games myself.)  However, I have fond memories of play – whether by myself or with other kids – that was built on nothing by odd scraps of information turned into dreams.

Some years ago, I crossed paths with someone I’d played with as a kid.  She asked me if I remembered how we’d talked about how neat it would be to grow up and have horses and then ride all the way across the continent to California.  We’d spent a lot of time talking about what color of horse was best.  None on the practical aspects.  She clearly thought this had been completely stupid.

I wistfully thought how wonderful it had been to actually believe something like that was possible, to have the freedom to dream and to dream BIG.  (I decided I wanted a pinto, if you wonder.)

I would have loved to have a tree like those kids have, a tree that can be anywhere, anyplace, anytime.  I hope I hear those adventures for a long time to come.  Maybe Roxy’s a wolf.  Maybe she’s a superhero who runs with Fireball and Thunder.  And maybe they get on a pirate ship, but end up needing to become ninjas…

I didn’t have that tree but, thanks to the generosity of a neighbor, I had woods in which to run.  Thanks to the willingness of my parents to let us take risks, I had water in which to swim and the world’s most indestructible rowboat.  And best of all, I had time to dream.

Time to dream is important.  It’s at the heart of creativity of many sorts, not just writing stories.  But these days, as I noted above, even the writers of stories don’t seem to get as much time to dream.  We’re all told to be crazy-bizzy, building mailing lists, fan bases, doing social media.

Gets so even a professional dreamer feels as if taking time to dream is a mistake.  There’s something twisted about that.

Maybe I should see if I can borrow that tree.

FF: Pigs, Priests, and Pegasi

If it weren’t for audiobooks, I’d have had trouble getting my “book fix” this week…

A lovely summer read

The Friday Fragments lists what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive recommendation list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

Borders of Infinity by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  Three excellent stories.  The “frame” in which they were presented also worked well.

The Sky Chariots Saga Book 1: Restless Earth by Emily Mah.  Part one of a serial, so this was mostly set-up and presentation of characters.  Setting is an alternate southwestern U.S.  May be an alternate future, despite the fantasy elements.  Includes pegasi, but a very different take.

The Father Brown Mysteries.  Audio.  Radio dramas based on the stories by G.K. Chesterton.

In Progress:

Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Mustache Mary by Wendelin Van Draanen.  Missing treasure and family feuds provide the backdrop for more serious questions of friendship and peer pressure.  More mature concerns like boys and substance abuse enter for the first time in the series.  A very large pig provides humor.

Falling Free by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  This one seems to be a prequel to the “Miles” stories.  Focuses on the genetically engineered “quaddies.”  (I’m guessing at the spelling since this is an audiobook!  Just started getting tense.

Also:

Almost done proofing Curiosities, my forthcoming short story collection.

TT: Arthur C. Clarke — More Than “Hard SF”

JANE: Last time I asked you which authors gave you the “sense of wonder” feeling.

ALAN: Arthur C. Clarke can do it to me every time. I think the best examples from his body of work are Childhood’s End and The City and the Stars. The latter in particular still has the power to move me almost to tears, despite the fact that I must have read it at least a dozen times.

Wonders of Outer Space

JANE: Can you go into a little more detail?  Some of our readers on are on the younger side and may not be familiar with Clarke’s work.  I think we owe them an idea of what is “wondrous” in his work.

ALAN: Certainly. Childhood’s End starts very conventionally with an invasion of the Earth by aliens who quickly become known as the Overlords. They initiate a utopian golden age, but there is a time limit on it. Initially, it isn’t clear just what this means, but eventually we learn that the Overlords are, if you like, nursemaids here to guide and supervise as humanity evolves into a new order of being.

Ironically (slight spoiler here) the Overlords themselves are not capable of achieving this new state and remain relentlessly curious about what is involved; hence their appearance as nursemaids to those species about to achieve it. It’s this thinking about what might be the next stage of evolution that gives the novel its impact (though it’s not short of spectacle either!). There’s a spiritual depth to it combined with a sense of poignant yearning, particularly on the part the Overlords who are forever denied access to what might possibly be the gates of heaven, however you care to define that particular can of worms. Clarke was a thoroughgoing atheist, but his novels are full of religious speculation.

JANE: I hadn’t read this one…  I may need to add it to my ever-growing list.  Funny thing, these days when Clarke is mentioned, it’s almost always in the context of “hard” SF.  I think more stress should be put on this element of religious, philosophical speculation.  I certainly would have read more of his work!

ALAN: Clarke himself had a degree in physics and was always interested in exploring the limits of technology.  (In one novel he defined the ideal machine as something that contained no moving parts; that way there was nothing to wear out!). But he had a spiritual side as well, and an almost Buddhist appreciation of the sanctity (and beauty) of life. This manifests again and again in his better novels.

JANE: You also mentioned The City and the Stars.  Again, I’ll be honest and admit my ignorance.  Can you tell me a bit about it?

ALAN: The City and the Stars explores similar concerns to those of Childhood’s End. The story takes place in the city of Diaspar, one billion years in the future. The Earth is so old that the oceans have long ago evaporated and humanity has all but died out. As far as the people of Diaspar know, they are the only city left on the planet. Diaspar is completely enclosed. Nobody leaves. Nobody enters.

All the citizens have lived many lives – when their time comes they are reabsorbed into the central computer’s memory banks, only to be re-born later. But Alvin is unique, he has had no prior existence, and he is insatiably curious…

What Alvin finds outside Diaspar forms the bulk of the novel. The novel dates from the 1950s, but Clarke’s speculations haven’t dated at all.  Again, he is really talking about spirituality rather than technology and those concerns are timeless. When Arthur C. Clarke died, this was the novel that I chose to re-read, the novel that I wanted to remember him by.

JANE: Now that I think about it, I realize I actually haven’t read much Clarke.  I read Rendezvous with Rama and was very excited – until I wasn’t.  The ending left me decidedly flat.  It turned me off to Clarke in a big way.

Yet that was a very popular book.  How did you feel about it?

ALAN: It started out well, but really it didn’t go anywhere. It was just a travelogue. The giant artefact arrived in the solar system, a group of people went and explored it, they left, and it went away again. Clarke had lots of clever ideas about the way that Rama was put together, but really, nothing much happened at all in the story. And the final punch line, clever though it was, cheapened the book by turning it into a shaggy dog story. So it remains one of my least favourite of Clarke’s books. I think he was looking hard for significance, but that this time he didn’t quite manage to pull it off.

JANE:  I’m sorry that this was the Clarke novel I read first.  I can see now that I need to go try other of his works.

ALAN: There are several really good ones that I think you might like. The Songs of Distant Earth is particularly good in terms of the sense of wonder feeling we’ve been talking about (it’s also Clarke’s own favourite of all his novels). It is set in the far future, on Thalassa, a colony world that was populated from Earth many centuries before the opening of the book. Now, in the timeline of the novel, the Earth’s sun has gone nova, destroying the solar system. Some starships managed to escape before the catastrophe, and one of them visits Thalassa – a brief stop on its way to its final destination.

The themes of the novel are both apocalyptic and utopian (by any definition, Thalassa is a utopia), together with an examination of the effects of long-term interstellar space travel and the possibilities of extra-terrestrial life.

I suspect that one reason why Clarke likes this novel so much is because he also used it to explore the passions of homosexual love. Clarke himself was homosexual, and there are hints of homosexual relationships in some of his other work, but in this novel he allowed himself to deal with the topic explicitly. Clarke has often been criticised for his cardboard characters (a criticism I disagree with strongly), but you certainly can’t say that about this novel. The passions are very real and the book is all the stronger for it.

The novel was much admired by Mike Oldfield (of Tubular Bells fame) and in 1994 he produced an album of music inspired by the story.

JANE: Okay…  I’m adding it to my list.  Any others?

ALAN: I’m also very fond of Imperial Earth which follows one Duncan Makenzie on a trip to Earth from his home on Titan, ostensibly for a diplomatic visit to the U.S. for its 500th birthday, but really in order to have a clone of himself produced. Thematically, the novel has a lot to say about the nature of change and transition. It also examines ideas of sexuality and attitudes towards race (again, there are hints of bisexuality as a way of life and, quite a long way into the novel, we learn that the protagonist is black. Not that anyone cares…)

And The Ghost from the Grand Banks is a wonderful bit of fluff about raising the wreck of the Titanic in time to celebrate the centenary of the sinking in 2012. There’s nothing very deep (pun not intended) about this book – but it’s marvellous fun.

JANE: Fun sounds good…  And you’ve reminded me of something I want to bring up later on.  (Scribble…  scribble.)

ALAN: But that’s enough from me. What about you? What stories inspire that “sense of wonder” in you?

JANE: Ooh…  The answer to that is actually much more complicated than naming an author.  Perhaps we can get to it next time.

Wandering Down a Wide Variety of Roads

After two weeks of focusing hard on a single topic (the complexities involved in writing realistic female characters), this week I’m going to Wander to my heart’s content.

Terrell by Cale Mims

Once again, I’ve taken up the challenge and answered several questions for Marshal Zeringue’s  Campaign for the American Reader blog network.  He did a lovely job of changing down illustrations for Writers Read: Jane Lindskold.  Next, I took on the challenge offered by the The Page 69 Test: Artemis Invaded.

Finally, for the first time ever, I answered the question “My Book, The Movie.”  I think you’ll find the answer interesting – if not, at least for those of you who have been wandering along with me for a while, completely surprising.

Winding down the lane toward a not completely unrelated topic…  I’ve been asking to see fan art related to the “Artemis Awakening” series.  Just the other day, Cale Mims sent a dramatic picture of Terrell leaning on his lance, contemplating spiders to slay.  Last week, Tori Hansen contributed a wonderfully whimsical portrait of Sand Shadow during some downtime on the shores of Spirit Bay.

Sand Shadow by Tori Hansen

Artistically inclined?  Know someone who is?  Since I can’t draw anything more complicated than petroglyphs, I’m always eager to see how artists might depict my characters or scenes from my books.  If you’re on Facebook, we’re going to have a gallery there.  Even if you’re not, you can send me files.   You’ll retain all rights.  I’ll just delight in helping you show off your work.

Please include your name (or artist pen name), title of the piece, permission for me to post it to Facebook, blogs, website, and Twitter.  Short anecdotes as to what inspired your piece are very welcome, too.  Files should be X and Y.

Turning down another side road…   Last week, we finalized my late summer touring plans.  The first event is Bubonicon, right here in Albuquerque, August 28-30.  The following weekend, I’m off to Washington D.C. for the National Book Festival on September 5, hosted by the Library of Congress.

The weekend after that, I’m off to Las Cruces, New Mexico, for a September 12th signing at Barnes and Noble along with Victor Milan (Dinosaur Lords) and Melinda Snodgrass (The Edge of Dawn).  Then, on Tuesday, September 22nd, the three of us will be in Scottsdale, Arizona, at SIP Coffee and Beer House for a book chat and signing.

After that, I think I’m going to come home and crawl under my tomato plants and sleep…  For further details of any or all of these events, check the Appearances page of my website. [link]

Speaking of tomato plants…  Some of you may recall how back in April (WW 4-15-15) I told you how Jim and I had decided to start our tomato plants from seed this year.  We planted twenty-one seeds, with the goal of having twelve plants bearing by the end of summer.  I told you I’d be happy if we ended up with six plants.

Well, the first surprise was that all twenty-one seeds germinated.  Not only that, all twenty-one survived transplants.  We put fifteen into the ground, the remainder into larger containers.

We lost one tomato plant either to wind or cutworm grub.  Given the nature of the injury, it was hard to tell which.  We lost a second plant to a wind-broken stem.  We lost a third to a virus called “curly top” that’s common in our area, although not so much east of the Mississippi.  In each case, we replaced with a seedling from one of the containers.

About a month ago, we realized the seedlings in the containers were beginning to struggle.  Yes, yes, I know.  Many people grow tomato plants in containers.  However, when the temperature reaches 110 in the shade, as we were back in June, the soil gets too hot and roots start cooking.  We scrabbled around for room in our already full garden beds and finally decided to plant them behind some very tall (as in 5’ high in some cases) Oriental lilies.  They are behind the others in growth, but are definitely shooting up.

So, as of this date, we have eighteen tomato plants, lots of green tomatoes, and expect to have ripe cherry tomatoes, possibly before this time next week.  We also have four varieties of summer squash, string beans (including liana beans), cucumbers, Swiss chard, peppers (ripening, not yet ripe, although we have thinned the bell peppers), radishes, ichiban eggplant, and a fair variety of herbs.

Dinner is now dictated by what the garden is producing the most of…

When I’m not messing with the garden, I’ve been reading the proofs for my forthcoming short story collection, Curiosities.  My hope is to have it ready in time for Bubonicon, at the end of August.  If I want to make that goal, I’d better transplant myself from in front of my computer and onto the sofa with red pens, coffee, and, doubtless, Kel the cat, who is my constant editorial assistant.

FF: Wildly Mixed

As far as I can tell, my reading this week has nothing in common.  Wait!  Two of the SF could be said to be “military,” but both are so much more.

Kel Relaxes with a Good Book

The Friday Fragments lists what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive recommendation list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

Lupus Rex by John Carter Cash.  A beast fable.

Off Armageddon Reef by David Weber. Book one of his “Safehold” series.  I read it when it first came out and decided to dip in again.

In Progress:

Borders of Infinity by Lois McMaster Bujold.  Audiobook.  In the last story…  Very good collection.

The Sky Chariots Saga Book 1: Restless Earth by Emily Mah.  Just started.

Also:

Proofing Curiosities, my forthcoming short story collection.