Jane Lindskold's Blog, page 143

Car Crash or Culmination?

A few neat things before we get behind the wheel and speed off to this week’s Wandering.

Truck Crash!

First, I’ve donated a hard cover first edition to an on-line raffle to promote a new re-release of Walter Jon William’s novel Hardwired.  I’m a big fan of this story.  I hope  a bunch of you will take the chance to get it and discover how smart cyberpunk can be.

Take a look at : http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/YWM0MGI1YWM4MmRhNjk1NGI0OWFlM2VmYjllMDA0OjUx/ .  Hurry!  There are only a few hours left!

Second, last Friday Baen Free Radio released the first of two parts of an audio interview featuring me, David Weber, and Toni Weisskopf discussing the release of Treecat Wars.  This Friday will see the second part.  You can download both podcasts in a variety of formats at http://baen.com/podcast/podcast.asp.

Now, let’s Wander!

A while back, I asked a few friends what they’d like to see me discuss in future Wanderings.  My friend, Tori, asked if I’d explain more about why I frequently say that I can’t tell whether a book or anime is “good” until I reach the end.   I had to think about why for a while, but I finally came up with a way to explain this fairly complicated thought process.

(As an aside, I should note that I have different criteria for novels and visual media.  Anime in particular often has a long story to tell, but does so in small chunks.  Therefore, while I will look at novels as individual volumes, even if they are part of a larger series, I look at anime and some television as if each episode is a chapter in a longer work.)

I’m going to start by clarifying the question.  What Tori was asking about were those stories that I enjoy enough to get involved with.  So, this leaves out those stories that failed to hook me at the start or lost me early on.  It only includes those that I’m enthusiastic enough  about that I plan to finish.  This means the stories already have the basics down (good characters, interesting plot elements, a well-defined setting).  It also means that the subject matter suits my taste.  I’m the first person to admit that there are plenty of really fine stories out there that simply don’t work for me personally.

A great example of a book that I started feeling inclined to read and ended up feeling enthusiastic about is Sue Grafton’s V is for Vengeance.  I’m a fan of the Kinsey Millhone novels.   I usually listen to them as audio books, so I only recently got to “V.”  (I haven’t gotten to “W,” yet, so no spoilers, please!  )

V is for Vengeance begins with a long prologue about which I had serious doubts.  However, one of the reasons I’ve stayed with this series is that Grafton often shifts her storytelling format, something that has kept the series from becoming formulaic.  So, long prologue or not, I kept with it.  At the end of the prologue, an event happened about which I felt strong doubts.  To avoid spoilers, I’ll just say that it had to do with the death of the young man who was central to the prologue.  It wasn’t so much that he died that troubled me, it was why he died.  It didn’t make sense.

Was Grafton slipping?  Had her editors lost their minds?  I’ll admit, if this hadn’t been the only audio book I had available at that time, I might have quit.  But, I’ve listened to all the other books in the series and I wanted to see what happened when Kinsey got on-stage.

Well, initially, I didn’t feel a lot of hope.  Kinsey’s case involved a professional shoplifting ring.  Eventually, there was a connection between the prologue and this plotline, but it seemed pretty thin – certainly not enough to justify that long, long prologue.  Eventually, I put the prologue out of my head and concentrated on the story at hand.  It had strong “grey” characters with complex motivations.  There was lots of really cool information about how shoplifting, of all things, has become Big Business.

I can’t say much more about the novel without providing too many spoilers but, as the book moved toward its final third, the prologue began to matter.  By the book’s conclusion I was bouncing up and down.  Not only did the prologue matter, better and better, the elements that I had thought were weak fit it.  They weren’t mistakes!  They weren’t sloppy writing!  I was incredulously happy.

So, whereas when I started the book I would have said, “Pretty good, but I think Grafton’s losing her touch or has become one of those writers who editors don’t feel they can edit,” now I would say: “Good novel.  Clever.  Interesting and surprisingly complex.  I highly recommend.”

I had a similar reaction to The Black Prism by Brent Weeks.  Initially, I wanted to read it because Brent had been one of the Guests of Honor at this year’s Bubonicon and I had been intrigued by many of his comments during the Guest of Honor presentation.  The Black Prism was a Very Fat Fantasy novel, however, and my reading time is very thin.  I even considered looking for the book in audio, but some of Brent’s (very funny) comments had been about the uneven quality of his audio book readers.  I couldn’t remember if this had been a book he had liked as presented in audio or not.

However,  enough of the book interested me to keep me going.  By the end, I could honestly say “I liked it.  Interesting layered political problems.  Complex characters .  Gritty but not self-indulgently so.  Creative magical system, well used and well intertwined into the plot.”  Will I read the next one?  Yes.  However, I’ll probably wait until I can give it the time it deserves.  This would be a perfect book for a long plane flight.  Airport waiting time and flight time would seem a pleasure, not a burden.

Sadly, this is not always the case.  I hate mentioning books that didn’t work for me, but in this case  I fear I must.  One example is John Scalzi’s popular novel, Old Man’s War.  I acquired it when it was a new release, so was unbiased by any press.  I had met John Scalzi at a book fair and found him an intelligent person, so I was inclined to view the book with favor.  I might even have started it on the plane on my way home.

Initially, I was very enthusiastic about  Old Man’s War.  It had a good conceit, some interesting world-building, and characters I was interested in.  I remember expressing my enthusiasm over the phone to my friend, Yvonne, ending, as I so often do, with “But I won’t really know until I finish.”  Sadly, by the time I finished, my enthusiasm had dimmed.  The compelling question of  how can society best use the wisdom and experience of older people whose bodies won’t necessarily let them function at full capacity had vanished into action adventure heavily indebted to novels like Heinlein’s Starship Troopers.  (A novel which, by the by, I like.)  The main character’s difficult choices and ethical decisions were eliminated  or diluted by a wealth of unlikely wish fulfillment.

Unlike, say, Terry England’s excellent novel Rewind, which deals with similar questions without losing sight of them, even when the action becomes intense and the characters are in serious jeopardy, I felt that Old Man’s War had the start of an excellent novel, and a car wreck of a conclusion.

I felt the same about the fan favorite TV series, Firefly.  When Yvonne initially loaned me her set, thus allowing us to avoid the common excuse as to why the series failed (“They broadcast it erratically and out of order”), I was very enthusiastic.  Good characters, complicated, intertwining plots, interesting setting.   Strong individual episodes. Some time in, though, I realized I was losing interest.  Several of the plots were, as Jim put it, “They meet someone from the past who they’re happy to see but turns out to be not the  type of person they thought.”  The character development was wildly uneven, especially in the case of secondary characters.  I began to see serious glitches in the world-building.  I went from a potential fan to a “Well, I have no trouble seeing  why this one didn’t work.”

So that’s why  I am likely to reserve my judgment as to whether or not a book or series works until I’m to the end.  I might say “I’m enjoying reading this or watching this.”  But it will be followed by “I’ll let you know how I feel when I’m done.”

There are some novels or series that I like even though they are in some way weak or disappointed me at some point.  However, these aren’t the ones I recommend or, if I do, I’m usually pretty realistic about admitting they have flaws but that – despite the flaws – there’s something there I like.

At what point do you start recommending a book?   Am I alone in needing to get to the end before doing so?

TT: Henry IV, Part One

Looking for the Wednesday Wandering?  Page back one to learn what a professional writer’s life and origami have in common.  Then come back and join me and Alan as we continue our tour of the Henries!

King Richard II: Rather Like Elvis

JANE: Now we get to the King Henry whom Shakespeare made very familiar, even to American audiences: Henry IV.  He had two plays named for him and an argument can (and has been) made that the play The Tragedy of King Richard the Second (Richard II for convenience) is as much about Henry IV as it is about Richard II.

So, what do you think was the appeal?

ALAN: Probably the drama associated with his accession to the throne. He took the throne by force from his cousin (who ruled as Richard II). Henry was the first of the Lancastrian kings. The House of Lancaster was an offshoot of the Plantagenets, and Henry certainly had a claim to the throne by blood, but not by right of primogeniture.

JANE: So were Henry and Richard close as cousins?  After all, being cousins doesn’t automatically mean they were friends, especially in those days before the internet made it possible to have friends on the other side of the world.

ALAN: Henry and Richard had a stormy relationship. They grew up together and played with each other as children, but as adults they were increasingly opposed. Henry, then called Henry Bolingbroke…

JANE: Wait!  Where do you get this spelling?  My Riverside Shakespeare uses “Bullingbrook.”

ALAN: All my references use “Bolingbroke”! I have a Complete Shakespeare (not a distinguished edition), Asimov’s Guide to Shakespeare and a 1966 Britannica (Volume 11 – Halicar to Impala). Henry was actually born at Bolingbroke Castle in Lincolnshire. The castle is long gone, but the modern day village of New Bolingbroke (yes, that is the official spelling) is alive and well.

JANE: How very odd…  Hang on while I rummage a bit.   Ah, hah!

The notes in my text (The Riverside Shakespeare) offer a few insights: “The form Bolingbroke, common in modern editions, never occurs in the early texts; it was first employed by Pope in the early eighteenth century.  Its adoption by succeeding editors has led to a good deal of uncertainty about the pronunciation.”

So we’re both right and should continue in our chosen course!  Happiness!

ALAN:  Now, where was I? Oh yes…

Henry Bolingbroke was part of an unsuccessful rebellion against King Richard in 1387. Surprisingly, Richard took no action against Henry at that time, though later he did execute many of the other ringleaders. Perhaps he came to regret his clemency…

JANE: I’m seeing some interesting parallels to Shakespeare’s own time, but I’ll wait a moment, so as not to interrupt the flow.  Please, go on.

ALAN: Righto. Henry spent the next few years abroad. He participated in the siege of Vilnius, the capital of Latvia, and he went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. He took a vow to lead a crusade to free Jerusalem from the infidels, but he never followed through on that vow.

JANE: So many did take that vow and didn’t succeed.  I don’t think we can hold that against either Henry Bullingbrook or Henry IV, as he became later, although that vow does have some interesting ramifications later on.

ALAN: In 1399, after the death of Henry’s father, John of Gaunt, Richard confiscated the Lancastrian estates. This gave Henry the perfect excuse to raise another army in rebellion against Richard. Henry quickly defeated the king’s forces and imprisoned Richard. Richard abdicated and Henry declared himself king. Richard died in prison in mysterious circumstances, almost certainly at Henry’s instigation.

After his death, Richard’s body was put on public display to prove to everyone that he was truly dead. However, the conspiracy theorists of the day ignored that inconvenient evidence, and for many years afterwards rumours continued to circulate that he was still alive and actively attempting to take back his throne.

Rather like Elvis, really…

JANE: Long live rock and roll!

Before we move into the actual reign of Henry IV, there are a bunch of interesting points I’d love to touch on.  We’ve talked a lot about why Shakespeare skipped certain of the king Henries, even when, like Henry II, their lives seemed set up to provide the best sort of drama.  However, even more than most modern writers, Shakespeare had to take care not to offend the reigning power structure.  After all, not only were they his patrons, they could have him executed for fomenting rebellion or for treason.

So, while the life of Henry II was dangerous ground, the life of Henry IV was fertile and interesting.  Like Richard II, Elizabeth I faced the problem of a charismatic rival with a claim to the throne in Mary Queen of Scots.

ALAN: My English teacher at school made this point to us very strongly. Shakespeare lived in turbulent times. Plays could be (and were) censored and sometimes banned, and playwrights lived under the threat of imprisonment or worse.  Anything that flattered the reigning monarch had to be a good thing and Shakespeare’s plays are full of such references.

JANE: Good teacher!  Literature enjoyed in context is a great way to immerse yourself in the vagaries of history.

Although many plays and movies have shown Elizabeth and Mary meeting, actually, they never did.  Did Elizabeth regret finally ordering the execution of her cousin?  We’ll never know, but I think in Shakespeare’s portrayal of Henry IV’s usurpation of the throne of a sympathetic (if somewhat weak) monarch and that monarch’s eventual execution, Shakespeare was supporting Elizabeth and her choices – that basically sometimes monarchs need to remove rivals lest they cause trouble in the future.

And, as you noted, even dead, even with his body on public display, Richard II continued to haunt the reign of Henry IV.

ALAN: The parallels are clear and they would not have been lost on the audiences of the day.

JANE: It’s also interesting to note that friends of the Earl of Essex arranged for a revival of Richard II on the eve of his rebellion.  Many feel this was intended as propaganda, meant to make the residents of London rise up in support of the Earl.  If so, it failed.  Yet Elizabeth did not overlook this.  A few months following the failed rebellion, she remarked that she herself was Richard.

ALAN: She was a smart lady!

JANE: Shakespeare’s Richard II is rare among Shakespeare’s historical plays in that a strong argument can be make for it also being a tragedy in the classic sense where a “fatal flaw” undermines the main character and leads to his eventual destruction.  This cannot be said for many of Shakespeare’s historical plays, which are “just” ripping good dramas with a historical foundation.  For academics, who like to divide things into neat compartments, The Tragedy of King Richard the Second raises arguments.

ALAN: Richard was his own worst enemy. After supressing the rebellion of 1387, he ruled peacefully and well for some eight years or so. Then, for no readily apparent reason, he started to take his revenge on the rebels, executing some and exiling others. This created much resentment.  His confiscation of the Lancastrian estates was the final straw that gave Henry the excuse he needed to take the throne. Some historians have suggested that Richard was insane, but it seems more likely that he suffered from a personality disorder verging on paranoia.

JANE: Absolutely!   Shakespeare certainly shows this unevenness.  In modern terms, the Shakespeare’s Richard’s fatal flaw is self-delusion.  Repeatedly, throughout the play, he speaks of the title, the trappings, and the symbols, as if these are all it takes to make a king.  He cannot believe that the crown will not protect its wearer and, even when he abdicates, still claims for himself some remnants of the title.

Shakespeare makes clear that Richard II was not a bad man – something he could not have done if he’d chosen to show him as an insane paranoid.  The scenes with his wife are particularly touching.  However, Richard was a bad king, unwilling to accept the responsibilities that went with his titles.  No wonder the people of London did not rise up to support the Earl of Essex against Elizabeth I.  Whatever her flaws, she was a monarch who took her duties very seriously.  No one could compare her to Richard II.  Indeed, the effort might have hurt the rebellion, because anyone seeing the play would assess Elizabeth in her best light.

ALAN: And it helped that Elizabeth was a very, very popular and well-loved monarch.

JANE: When we started, you mentioned that the drama associated with Henry IV’s accession to the throne was probably the reason why Shakespeare devoted three plays to him.  That’s true to a point, but Richard II is about that accession.  The next two plays, Henry IV, Parts One and Two, deal with the difficulties of holding onto a throne when you have usurped it.  I’d love to take a closer look at the historical realities underlying Shakespeare’s Henry plays next time.  Are you game?

Folding Life

The last week or so has been one of those times when I find myself bent and twisted in a lot of different directions.

San Felipe de Neri in paper

Treecat Wars, the second of my novels with David Weber, is officially released.  Now those of you who have been reading the teasers on Baen’s website can find out what happens to Stephanie Harrington on Manticore, how Stephanie’s friends cope as they take over being the treecats’ champions without the presence of their fearless leader, and if the Landless Clan finds a new home or is destroyed in the course of the search.

It’s a thrilling read, if I dare say so myself, with lots of action, intrigue, and some really involved interpersonal conflicts to round out the tale.

Last week, Weber – I’ve always call him “Weber,” not “David”; by now it’s a pet name and he’d probably collapse in shock if I called him “David” – and I did a podcast interview for Baen Free Radio.  Just to make it more fun, editor Toni Weisskopf joined us.  The interview was conducted by Tony Daniels, but I think it’s pretty clear which Toni/y is speaking when.

Anyhow, we had a lot of fun.   Just from how we talk all over each other and Weber keeps saying “I just want to finish this thought…” listeners will probably get a pretty good idea of what it was like as we were designing the books!  The interview goes up on Friday, October 11th at: http://baen.com/podcast/podcast.asp.

I also did a signing for Treecat Wars at Alamosa Books here in town.  There’s nothing like seeing stacks of the novel in a store to make the project suddenly “real.”

Yesterday, I did an interview with Josh Gentry, the editor of Snackreads.  We’ll talk a bit about my humorous short story, “Hamlet Revisited.” (Available at www.snackreads.com for a mere 99 cents).  However, we also plan to talk about a wide variety of topics related to writing and how being  a professional changes the game.  If all goes well, the interview will be available not only as a podcast, but on video on YouTube – an intimidating prospect for someone as camera shy as I am!  I’ll let you know when it’s available.

As you know from last week’s post, Artemis Awakening is moving through the steps involved in its May 2014 release.  The cover art is ready, the book jacket copy is being prepared, and early reviews solicited.  The book is now available for pre-order for those of you who want to make sure to be among the first to get a copy.

Even with all of this going on, I’m continuing work on the sequel to Artemis  Awakening.  AA2  is now about 70,000 words long and the fur is about to start flying.  (Literally, in some cases.)

As a break from all the professional activity, this past weekend, Jim and I went with our friend Michael Wester to see the show put on as a part of the 2013 Pacific Coast OrigamiUSA Convention.  It was well worth the visit.  The local  hosts had tied the decorations into the Balloon Fiesta, which is also going on, so both the hotel foyer and the showroom were liberally hung with brightly colored balloons made from folded paper.  The hotel atrium was dominated by a ten-story high balloon sculpture made from twisted crepe paper, anchored to an actual balloon basket far below.

In the showroom, we inspected numerous intricate origami works.  I’d like to say I had a favorite, but that would be impossible.  There was so much variety and so many different styles – from representational to abstract, with everything in between.  The rendition of the Church of San Felipe de Neri in Old Town, Albuquerque. was incredibly impressive, standing at least four feet tall at the tips of the spires.  We’d thought it must have been created by one of the local clubs, but it turned out to be the work of a Canadian couple.  They had taken their images from the web and used Google maps to make sure they had elements like the intricate details of the roof angles just right.

The church was surrounded by a colorful garden, complete with myriad origami people, each unique and each wearing their own set of carefully folded paper shoes.  While the church was such a perfect representation that anyone local immediately knew that this wasn’t just any Spanish-style church, but one specific church, the garden was a fantastic riot of improbable combinations: the lamp posts in purple, trees sharing space with gigantic (in contrast) flowers.  I wasn’t surprised to find out that one of the other displays that had impressed me – a set of twenty different miniature origami flower arrangements – had been done by the same people.

As I wandered around the room, studying each display, going back for second and third looks, I found myself musing that there is a lot of similarity between origami figures and a professional writer’s life.  Like origami paper, we get twisted and folded in different ways.  We’re as odd a combination of elements as a kimono-wearing rabbit folded from sheets of paper.  We’re public and private, highly visible, yet oddly at our best when the techniques we use to create our tales are invisible and we ourselves vanish to be replaced by our creations.

TT: Henry III – Never A Dull Moment

In my excitement about the new cover for Artemis Awakening (page back one to see the art and hear about how the cover came to be), I forgot to mention another bit of news.  Treecat Wars, my second collaboration with David Weber, is now officially released!  I’m doing a book signing this weekend at 2:00 p.m. at Alamosa Books here in Albuquerque to celebrate.  I hope some of you will be able to be there.

Now…  Join Alan and me as we advance our exploration of the Henries to the III, a man who ruled young and old – and more than a little controversially.

JANE: There’s one more King Henry to look at before we get to those that Shakespeare binged on when writing his plays.  So, why didn’t Shakespeare write about Henry III?  Was Henry III really dull or was he, like Henry II, perhaps a bit too controversial?

Imprisoned King

ALAN: Oh, Henry III was anything but dull. He was the son of the infamous King John. Henry was only nine years old when King John died in 1216. Nevertheless, he inherited the throne, though he was too young to rule directly. A council of ministers ruled in his stead until January 1227 when Henry III took over formal control of the government, even though technically he was still a minor. However, during his regency, he had proved to be an able advisor to his ministers and nobody quibbled too much when he took over.

JANE: So Henry III was a popular king?

ALAN: Well, after the total catastrophe of King John’s reign, I think any king would, by contrast, be rather popular. However, Henry III’s popularity didn’t last. In 1230, he raised an army to try and regain the French lands that his father had lost. But the war turned out to be an expensive fiasco and he retired with his tail very much between his legs. By the middle of the century, he was becoming more and more unpopular.

JANE: Hmm…  Sounds as if American President Lyndon B. Johnson could have learned a thing or two from Henry III.

ALAN: That’s a very good parallel to draw since both of them ended up being quite unpopular as the result of a fruitless and expensive conflict.

Anyway, in 1263, Simon de Montford rebelled against Henry. For a time he held Henry captive and became the de facto ruler of England. During this time, he called two parliaments. The first made some quite controversial decisions and stripped the king of his unlimited authority which put even greater constraints on what a monarch could and could not do than had Magna Carta.

But it was the second parliament that secured Simon de Montford’s place in history. Even the makeup of the second parliament was controversial. For the first time ever, it contained ordinary citizens. If you like, it was the very first House of Commons and we were taught at school that Simon de Montford was the progenitor of the parliamentary democracy that controls England today.

JANE: That’s amazingly interesting.  I can see that our American idea of monarchy as an orderly system of government is very distorted.

Did Henry III die in jail?  Did Simon de Montford become the next king under a changed name?

ALAN: No. Henry’s son Edward raised an army which defeated Simon de Montford at the Battle of Evesham in 1265 and he freed his father from captivity. Simon de Montford was killed in the battle. His body was mutilated after death; his head, hands, feet, and testicles were cut off. Henry resumed his throne and reigned until 1272 when he died, aged 65.

JANE: So he was king for 56 years?

ALAN: Yes – it was one of the longest reigns in English history. Only four other monarchs reigned for longer, and two of them were women!

JANE: Ooh!  Teacher, I know the answer to that one!  Queens Victoria and Elizabeth II, right?

ALAN: That’s right. Go to the top of the class.

JANE: What’s my prize?

ALAN: You get to give the pens out tomorrow. And also I’ll tell you who the other two longest reigning kings were. The first of them was George III (the mad king who lost the American colonies). We’ve already had a discussion about him. He reigned for 59 years. And then there was James VI of Scotland who reigned for nearly 58 years, though he only counts because he succeeded Elizabeth I and united England and Scotland under one ruler. He only ruled England for 22 years though…

JANE: Still, that’s a good long reign.

It seems to me that Henry III would have provided good material for a play by Shakespeare.  I wonder if Shakespeare avoided the topic because so much of Henry III’s reign was associated with the reduction of the powers of the monarchy.  You couldn’t avoid the subject and Shakespeare did rely on noble patronage for his theatre company.

I also wonder if he was uncomfortable with the theme.  His King John has some excellent moments and John is a complex figure, but the play itself is uneven in both tone and writing.

ALAN: And as far as I recall, it doesn’t mention Magna Carta at all, which does suggest that a discussion of the reduction of the powers of the might have been a politically unwise move…

JANE: Now, what about Henry IV?   He got two plays or, if you stretch it, three…  Shall we talk about him next time?

ALAN: Yes, let’s.

Artemis Awakening: Cover Art!

This week I have something very exciting to share: the cover art for my forthcoming novel, Artemis Awakening.

I must admit, I’m really, really pleased with this cover.  For me, the first thing that I saw was the puma’s face.  However, I’ve heard from a few people that for them the puma took a moment to resolve out of the swirls.  I’m curious.  What did you see?  A puma’s face against a star field or a stellar nebula with a puma’s face at the heart?

Often the author has no idea what the cover art will be until it’s already done.  This time, courtesy of the book’s editor, Claire Eddy, I was asked if I had any thoughts to contribute.  Since I’ve long been fascinated with what makes a book cover “work” or not, I was thrilled to be included.

My first thought was that I would prefer an iconic image to an illustration.  Probably because I’m the author, book cover illustrations featuring my characters rarely look “right” to me.  This doesn’t mean the cover is bad,  just not to my taste.  Also, I realized that as a book buyer I’m more likely to be drawn to an interesting image than to picture of what may or may not be a scene from the book.  I realize that this is not the case for everyone – and I can certainly think of times when an illustration cover has caused me to pick up the book.  Several of Michael Whelan’s covers for Joan Vinge’s novels immediately come to mind.

I also wanted a large image, one that could be seen either across a bookstore or in a thumbnail image on a screen.   A cover like that for The Buried Pyramid, lovely as that painting is, would be lost in either of those situations.

So what iconic image might I suggest?  Artemis Awakening is a fairly complex book.  I couldn’t think of any one image that would encompass it all.  Very well, if not one image, how about a combination of images – especially images that wouldn’t necessarily occur together in the world as we know it but make sense in the context of the novel?

Eventually, I came up with an image I thought might work: a puma holding an earthlike planet in its jaws.  However, I wasn’t sure that I could explain what I had in mind.  Wouldn’t it be nice if I could draw…

Then it hit me.  I can’t draw, but I have several friends who can.  I put out a request.  I felt very fortunate that Cale Mims had time to take out his sketchbook and pencils.  He provided me with several interpretations of the “puma holding planet” idea.

Puma Holding Planet

 Cale drew another image, replacing the puma’s eye with a planet.  He decided to experiment with using half a face, rather than a full one, because it would leave room for title and author name, as well as being more iconic, less an illustration.  He also added some understated flourishes, similar to tribal tattoos.

I sent photos of Cale’s drawings off to Claire.  She, in turn, showed the pictures to various people at Tor.  From Marketing came the odd – but useful – comment that the puma with planet in mouth reminded them of the unfortunate feline tendency to cough up hairballs…

However, the half-faced puma idea definitely caught interest.  The idea evolved to include a star field for a background.  After this, I heard nothing more about the project except for an update in August that the cover art was indeed underway and we should see it within a month or so.

Half A Face

Then, last week, Claire sent the image above.  I was fascinated how, at the hands of artist Cliff Nielsen, Cale’s original drawing had evolved, but was still recognizable.  The star field was there, but now included swirling veils that reminded me of nebulas, melding the puma into the heavens in a very interesting fashion.  Cale’s touches of tribal art accents had been retained and emphasized.

So here it is…

I hope you like it…  And I hope you’ve enjoyed a glimpse of the process by which this particular book cover came to be.

TT: Tromping Through the Henries

Looking for the Wednesday Wandering?  Page back one and let me know if you prefer short stories or novels.  Then come and join me and Alan as we begin our not terribly organized tour through all those kings named “Henry.”

The Importance of Being Henry

JANE: I’ve just consulted my Riverside Shakespeare.  Apparently, you folks had lots of kings named Henry.  There were three Henry the Sixth, two Henry the Fourth, one Henry the Fifth, and one Henry the Eighth…

Wait!  That’s how Shakespeare wrote the plays.  Although he obviously liked kings named Henry, he skipped the first three.  Did they actually exist?

ALAN: Yes we had many kings called Henry, and all of them existed. That’s a lot of Henries. (Sorry, but that’s how my fingers seem to want to write the word so let’s make it official and add it to our spelling checking dictionaries. And anyway, I rather like it…)

JANE:  I do, too!  Consider “Henries” official Tangent-speak.

ALAN: Let’s start with William the Conqueror. He died of peritonitis in 1087. His corpse was more than a little ripe and actually exploded at his funeral. His son William Rufus succeeded him.

JANE:  Wait!  Back up…  I thought we were talking about Henries, not exploding Williams.  Or non-exploding Williams, unless William Rufus made it a tradition.

ALAN: Oh we are talking about Henries – William Rufus was a very unpopular king.  He died in a “hunting accident” in 1100 after being shot with an arrow. I’ve put rabbit ears around that phrase because many people feel that it was no accident at all, but rather an assassination, which may well have been organised by his younger brother, Henry. Certainly Henry (who was definitely present when William was shot) was crowned within days of the event and he ruled as Henry I for the next 35 years.

JANE: This sounds like something from a novel…  In fact, I think I put something like it in the Firekeeper Saga.  Go on…  Now I see the Henry in the offing.

ALAN: Henry I died without a legitimate heir and the country descended into a civil war that dragged on for 18 years as Henry’s daughter Matilda battled for the throne with Henry’s nephew Stephen. Eventually, after lots of to’ing and fro’ing, Matilda’s son (another Henry) took the throne in 1154 and he ruled as Henry II for the next 35 years. He was the first Plantagenet king, but he would not be the last…

JANE:  Was it “Matilda”?  I seem to remember “Maud.”  Empress Maud.

ALAN: Yes, it was Matilda. And yes, it was Maud. They are both variations on the same name; Matilda is the Latin form of the Saxon name Maud, and was usually used in official documents, probably because it looks (and sounds) rather more regal.

JANE:  Wonderful!  I really like that.

Now, I am going to surprise you.  I know about this particular civil war because it provides the backstory for Ellis Peters’ “Brother Cadfael” stories.  In the novels, she is referred to as Empress Maud.   Are you familiar with these stories?

ALAN: I’ve read one or two of the books and quite enjoyed them. In the late 1990s, a TV series was produced in England. Derek Jacobi played Brother Cadfael and made a magnificent job of it.

JANE: I’ve also heard good things about the dramatizations, though I haven’t seen them.  One thing I really liked about the novels was that neither Empress Maud or King Stephen are presented as the “good guy” in the struggle.  Cadfael and his friends favor Stephen, but Stephen’s weaknesses as a ruler and commander come out time and again.  It made for a much stronger story.

Just making sure we don’t have a typo here…  Did you say that both Henry I and Henry II reigned for 35 years?

ALAN: Yes indeed – I find it an amusing coincidence that the first two Henries both held the throne for exactly the same length of time.

JANE: Delving into my admittedly flawed memory of which Henry was which…  Wasn’t Henry II the king who appointed his hunting, shooting, sporting buddy Thomas Becket to be archbishop – with rather unpleasant consequences for both of them?

ALAN: Yes, indeed. Henry appointed his friend Becket to be Archbishop of Canterbury. He hoped that their friendship would give him more control over the Church. However, rather to his surprise, Becket proved to be a staunch supporter of the Church’s policies and he repudiated his friendship with the king.

Becket quickly became a very frustrating thorn in the king’s side and none of the king’s supporters seemed able to do anything about it.  The story goes that Henry, in a moment of frustration, announced “What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and promoted in my household, who let their lord be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born clerk!”

Four of his knights took this to heart and travelled to Canterbury to confront Becket, convinced that they were carrying out the king’s will. Becket was hacked to death. Henry took no action against the killers, which suggests that he might well have set the wheels in motion deliberately.

JANE: Given Shakespeare’s fondness for writing plays about kings named Henry, it’s rather a surprise that he didn’t write a play about this.  It has all the elements of good drama.

ALAN: Yes – we had to wait until the twentieth century before the story got the treatment it deserved when T. S. Eliot wrote Murder in the Cathedral.

JANE: Perhaps the reason Shakespeare chose not to deal with the story of Henry II and Thomas Becket is that the question of  whether to be loyal to your monarch or your church was a little too much of a “hot button” issue at the time.

ALAN: That’s probably true – Shakespeare’s contemporary Christopher Marlowe was accused of heresy and was killed under mysterious circumstances that might well have been a governmental assassination. Sometimes being a playwright could be a dangerous profession!

JANE: Especially when you may have been a spy as well…

Going back to your earlier comment, Murder in the Cathedral is an excellent play, Eliot’s best, in my opinion.  There are a couple of lines in the scene that ends Part One (right before the interlude) that always ring in my heart.

Having been confronted not only by four Tempters, but also by three Priests, and by a Chorus representing the common folk, all of whom give Becket ample (and sometimes conflicting) reasons for giving into the king, Thomas says: “The last temptation is the greatest treason:/ To do the right deed for the wrong reason.”

In choosing to follow not only his duty but his principles, and finally to forsake the temptation of pride, Eliot’s version of Thomas Becket becomes, for me, one of the greatest heroes of fiction – a hero in the old sense, not in the modern sense, which often means nothing more than “protagonist.”  I remember a lovely panel of the subject, with Jo Walton and Steve (S.M.) Stirling, at a long-ago World Fantasy Convention that ended with me learning about an interesting take on the subject.

Will you permit me to tangent?

ALAN: Please do. Isn’t that the whole point?

JANE: There’s a novel titled Lucifer’s Crown by Lillian Stewart Carl that gives an interesting twist to the story of Thomas Becket, intertwining it with the quest for the Holy Grail, and a few other interesting motifs.  It’s quite good, one of those books that starts light and moves into greater depth.  I recommend it.

ALAN: A writer and a book that I’ve not heard of before. Excuse me while I make a note…

JANE: We’ve made it all the way to Henry II.  What about Henry III?

ALAN: Next time.

JANE: If you insist!

Short Story or Novel?

Right now I’m pretty snowed under with current projects.  The copyedited manuscript of Artemis Awakening arrived last week and I’ve been reviewing that.  I’m immersed in writing the sequel – still AA2, as far as a title goes.  I’ve promised an original short story to a charity anthology by the end of November and an original “Change War” novella to Steve (S.M.) Stirling for some time early in the year.  Then there’s all the work that comes with the impending release of Treecat Wars in October and Artemis Awakening in May.

Just a Few Possibilities

However, that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking ahead to what to do in other arenas.  As some of you know, I brought back into print as both e-book and print-on-demand my Avon novels Changer (with an original introduction) and Legends Walking (now with its original title, Changer’s Daughter and an introduction that explains why I made the switch).  I’ve also done a short story collection called Star Messenger, featuring three short stories about continuing character Captain “Allie” Ah-Lee.

At the year’s Bubonicon, I was asked several times if I intended to do other e-books or print on demand projects.  I’m too busy to write anything new, but I think I can find time to get together the material for either a re-release of one of my early novels or a short story collection from my selection of over sixty published short stories.

I’m curious as to what readers might be interested in.  Certainly, based on sales figures for the three books I already have out, the reprinted novels have out-sold the short story collection.

Are readers at all interested in short fiction?  If so, would the preference be for a collection of inter-related stories (such as I did with Star Messenger) or a broader sampling?  Would the addition of a never-before published piece make a short story collection more appealing?

As for novel reprints, my choice would be limited to some of my Avon titles, since I believe that all the novels I have written for Tor are currently available as e-books. My first Avon novel, Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls has already been reprinted.  That leaves Marks of Our Brothers, The Pipes of Orpheus, Smoke and Mirrors, and When the Gods Are Silent.  If you’re not familiar with these novels, I’ve included a little about each on the Novels page of my website. (www.janelindskold.com)

I’d welcome some preliminary feedback to help me sort out my options.  After all, I already have copies of all my stories.  I’d like to make sure that whatever comes out is something people would be interested in reading.

TT: The Illusion of Inherited Power

Looking for the Wednesday Wandering?  Page back one for a wander through a land of diversity and craziness.  Then come back here and join me and Alan as we take a look at whether power can be inherited or not.

Heir Apparent?

JANE: Last time we started out discussing the naming of kings and ended up with discussing how power is inherited, even when it isn’t.  You promised to reveal how with a monarchy power only appears to be inherited.

ALAN: Indeed I did, but I think we need to sneak up on that idea when it isn’t looking, so that we can take it by surprise. Let’s begin by assuming that it’s just human nature to want to pass accomplishments on to those family members who come after you. Though, as an aside, I strongly suspect that it’s much harder to follow that path when inheritance doesn’t come as a birthright, but has to earned by merit (or at the very least by popularity) instead. Sometimes the voters can be hard to convince – witness the problems that Ted Kennedy had. But it certainly doesn’t harm your cause if you have a solid background of family achievement to build upon.

JANE:  I agree.  Now that I think about it, I suspect your parliamentary system might stop a succession of Prime Ministers. Remember, our political parties are more like clubs than real power groups.   Teddy Roosevelt got so tired of the established parties that he founded his own Bull Moose Party to back him on his final run for president.  It did not survive his charismatic leadership.

Anyhow, although our political parties can back candidates, they cannot say “This guy is going to be head of our nation.” I can see a UK party deliberately NOT wanting one family to provide several Prime Ministers. After a while, it might be too much like having another king.

ALAN: Quite right. Our Prime Minister is not elected by the people. The office is occupied by whoever leads the party that is voted into government, and I suspect that political parties are very likely to look askance at anything that smacks of nepotism.

JANE: However, at least in our system, people with connections, money, and a highly recognizable name (Adams, Roosevelt, Kennedy, Bush) – are more likely to get elected than those without.   Mind you, in at least one case, the father-son relationship became an apprenticeship for public office.  John Adams took his son, John Quincy Adams, with him on diplomatic visits and even used him as a secretary so, when John Quincy Adams was elected, he had a very good idea of what his office entailed – including that it did not automatically make you popular.  Poor John Adams was not popular in his lifetime, although his posthumous reputation is very high indeed.

Surely you have the same things happen with your own elected offices!

ALAN: Strangely, I don’t think so. I suspect most family members observe the terrible toll that the responsibilities of office take on the office holder and decide to do something else with their lives.  I can only think of two examples.

JANE: Looking at the toll, rather than the glory?  That’s positively un-American.  Oh…  Wait…    You’d better go on with those examples.

ALAN: In my own lifetime there was Maurice Macmillan, who was the son of English Prime Minister Harold Macmillan.  (We’ve discussed Harold before on 1/11/12 – TT: Lord Byron? Baron Byron? George?).  Maurice followed his father into parliament, but he never amounted to anything. He never held cabinet office and eventually he lost an election and that was the last anyone ever heard of him.

The other, and much more famous example took place in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. William Pitt (known as Pitt the Elder) was Prime Minister from 1766 to 1768 and his son William Pitt (known as Pitt the Younger) was Prime Minister from 1783 to 1806 (though he was briefly out of office from 1801 to 1804).  These days, Pitt the Younger is chiefly remembered as the man who invented Income Tax in order to finance the war against Napoleon. This onerous tax was only supposed to last for the duration of the war. Once Napoleon was defeated, the tax would be dropped. Clearly Napoleon has not yet been defeated. Death is obviously no obstacle when you are a megalomaniac…

JANE: William Pitt? Was he the one who kept trading Prime Minister slots with Fox, or am I in the wrong time period?

ALAN: That’s him. Pitt the Younger. And both the Pitts were Prime Minister during the reign of King George III. You might have heard of him…

JANE: Ah…  The evil demon of every American history textbook, the horrible despot whose negligence led the put-upon colonists to revolution!

More seriously, though, a point that was left out of the school history books when I was a kid – wasn’t George III the one who went mad?

ALAN: That’s him. Which reminds me, have you heard of Alan Bennett? He writes plays and TV shows. Among other things, he wrote the stage play “The Madness of George III” which later became the very successful film “The Madness of King George.” Bennett wrote the screenplay for the film as well.

JANE: Yes.  I’ve heard of him and of his work…  Although, I will admit, I have seen neither the play nor the film.

ALAN: The film is superb – I’m sure you’d enjoy it. There’s a rather amusing story attached to the making of it.  Bennett records in an essay that he came under great pressure to change the title for the film. The producers were worried that if the film was just called “The Madness Of George III” American audiences would stay away in droves because, since they hadn’t seen the first two movies in the trilogy, they wouldn’t want to come and see the third one either. Somewhat bemused by this, Bennett gave in to the pressure, added the word King to the title and removed the III. I think that’s a lovely little story — I’d heard it several times and I always thought it was an urban legend until I read Bennett’s essay and realised it was true!

JANE: I really have a lot of trouble believing that, even if Bennett does say so…  If there is one British king most Americans would recognize from their schoolbooks it would be George III.  And that “III” is always part of his name, even if we know nothing at all about the earlier two Georges.  Still, adding “King” was definitely a good idea.

Maybe the film people were British…

ALAN: I have no idea. But I do enjoy the story.

Anyway – last time you suggested that only people with the proper bloodline could succeed to the monarchy. These days that’s a true statement because the monarchs are just figureheads. But in the days when the monarchy did actually hold real power, that power could be (and often was) removed at the point of a sword. And then a new family took over. Amusingly, we had eight kings called Henry who came from four different families. One of them was the son of William the Conqueror, three of them were Plantagenets, two of them were of the house of Lancaster, and two of them were Tudors. Uneasy sits the head that wears the crown… Charles I had his chopped off, poor chap.

If you wanted to be cynical, you could claim that these days power shifts are accomplished through the ballot box rather than the sword. But the effect is just the same. Though when you look at what is currently happening in Egypt, you have to wonder about the fragility of the mechanisms for the transfer of power.

JANE: Indeed…  I’ll take our system, even if we do have some problems.

Now, what you said above got me interested in all those Henrys.  If it wasn’t for Shakespeare’s plays, I wouldn’t know as much – which is really very little – as I do.  Seems like a fertile field for more discussion…

Ride ‘Em Cowboy!

It’s State Fair time, again.  Jim and I went twice this past weekend.  I don’t know how state fairs are elsewhere but, in New Mexico, the fair is a showcase for the crazy diversity that is what makes this state such an interesting place to live.

Cowboys!

“Diversity” may be the operative word.  Or maybe it’s “crazy.”  In any case, one of the things we enjoy the most about our Fair visits is watching the milling array of humanity.  For this reason, even though we’d been enjoying the rain this week, we were glad that, when the time came for us to go the fairgrounds, the clouds had decided to relent for a few hours.

(Rain?  Oh, yes…  Tuesday through Saturday, we had rain every night, accumulating to a total of five and a half inches – this in an area where the average rainfall is seven and a half inches in a year!  Very exciting!)

One of our favorites was two gentlemen who decided to take the term “cowboy” to new levels.  They eliminated the horse entirely and were mounted instead on two very nice longhorns.  Their stylish turnout was quite impressive. I was also amused that they were accompanied by a lady in a coordinated costume whose job it was to make sure that, if the long horns left behind any presents, these were promptly cleaned up.

(If you look, you can see her in the background of the photo.)

Then there was the ensemble of six young people who decided to come to the Fair in full superhero garb.  There was Spiderman, Superman, Supergirl, Wolverine, and Storm…  I was at a loss to identify the nattily dressed gentleman in tweed jacket and spectacles who was with them, and Jim didn’t get a picture.  Still, maybe someone can offer a guess.  I really enjoyed this spontaneous outpouring of fun – and the little kids were thrilled.

Of course, there was the more “normal” out of the ordinary attire – Indians in ribbon shirts or elaborate dance costumes; ranchers in their best broad-brimmed Stetsons; competitors in the various riding competitions, often with their numbers still pinned to their shirts, picking their way along carefully in their riding boots.  Performers from the various shows, off to see the prize vegetables or baby lambs until their next event.

Every third child seemed to be sporting more or less elaborate face paint, from a few cat’s whiskers up to full masks.  I admit, I wished I’d thought to have Jim take a picture of the young man in the menacing skull make-up, happily licking a red, white, and blue bomb pop.

And one can’t forget all the people simply using the Fair as an excuse to get dressed up to be seen.   I was amused by the irony of the young lady all in pink, with opalescent hair, slouching along behind her parents.  With all that color, she should have had more confidence.  There were a group of young men strutting around in high fashion, complete with hats and flashy bow ties.  Glitter, sequins, and gemstones were the order of the day, even on portly moms and grandmoms – enough to populate a glam rocker’s daydreams.

In addition to people-watching, Jim and I really enjoy the art shows.  As part of the celebration of New Mexico’s diverse heritage, there are three buildings dedicated to arts: Indian, Hispanic, and “Fine.”   Of course, it’s all pretty “fine,” but the former two have ethnic roots, while the other embraces the remaining traditions and invents a couple more.  Even though we don’t have any kids, we always go to the school art, just because it’s fun.

This year we had a special reason for making a beeline to the “hobby building.”  Jim had helped our friend Sue Estell with her contribution to the Lego display.  (Sue was one of the judges.)   For her piece, she had designed an original Hansel and Gretel witch’s cottage, complete with Hansel in the cage, holding out a bone for the witch to check instead of his finger.  Jim had built most of the tall pink and white “cotton candy” tree that overhung the scene.  It stood out among the predominantly darker models, drawing people from all over the building.

It was really fun to hear the comments of: “How cool!”  “That’s really neat!”  “Mom!  Come see this one!”

The State Fair has had cameos in several of my books, including Changer and Child of a Rainless Year.  It’s a place where the best of the state shines, in art, dance, glitter, and just plain joy in being out and about.  It continues through next weekend.  Maybe I’ll make my way back…  Where did I put my tee-shirt with the gemstone tiger face?  I wonder if someone could do coordinated face paint?

TT: Inheriting Power — Or At Least Names

Looking for the Wednesday Wandering?  Page back one and take a peek at how my subconscious works.  Then come and join me and Alan as we totter through the convoluted question of inheriting power.

Bush I and Bush II

JANE: So, Alan, the U.K. has a new royal.  As time has passed, I found myself wondering a few things.  Can I ask you?

ALAN: Righto!

JANE: First, this child’s dad is a prince, but does he have a title?  Is he a duke or something?

ALAN: Ah – we’re back to the crazy world of British titles. As always, the answer is both yes and no. By birthright he is a British Prince and must therefore be referred to as his Royal Highness. He also has a territorial designation derived from one of his father’s titles and so he may also be referred to as Prince George of Cambridge (his father, Prince William, is the Duke of Cambridge).

JANE: Wait a minute!  It sounds as if the son trumps the father?  How can that be?

ALAN: No, no! His father is His Royal Highness Prince William the Duke of Cambridge. George is His Royal Highness Prince George of Cambridge. Notice the missing word “Duke.” It makes a lot of difference…

JANE: Arrrgghh!  I will never figure this out!

ALAN: If it makes you feel any better, neither will I!

JANE: I had the general impression that Prince William and his wife (what is her title, anyhow?) couldn’t follow the trend made so beloved by movie and rock stars, and name their child any odd thing they like.  So if this little boy grows up to inherit the throne, we won’t have King Zowie or King Summer Night’s Passion.

What were the restrictions on the name?  Why do you think they chose George?

ALAN: Kate is the Duchess of Cambridge, a title she obtained by marriage. As far as the names of the child are concerned, in theory he could have been called anything (and like you I think I’d have rather enjoyed an eventual King Moon Unit, or something similar). In practice however the choices were probably restricted by family pressures. George is actually named for his great, great grandfather (if I counted correctly) who was King George VI, the father of our current Queen.

Most families, I think, tend to name their children after fondly remembered relatives, so there’s nothing odd there.

JANE: Absolutely!  My own sister and brother are named for our grandparents, female and male.

Still, in the case of the royal family, it’s nice that George has such good resonances for the relatives.  I’ve read that the current queen deeply respected and admired her father.  From what I have read about George VI, I think I would have, too.  He took on a difficult job he never expected to hold and performed admirably.

Are there names of former monarchs that wouldn’t work as well?

ALAN: Indeed there are. Social pressure, rather than anything else, tends to restrict the names of the male members of the family to a rather small pool, and almost invariably the chosen names will be those of a previous generation of Kings. So we get a recurring mixture of Edward, William, Charles and, of course, George. Interestingly we haven’t had a Henry since the sixteenth century, I don’t know why.

But certain names are a little frowned upon. Richard is out of favour because Richard III brought the name into disrepute when Shakespeare turned him into a blackhearted villain. And John tends to be avoided because the only King John we ever had made a total mess of the job. He lost Wales and much of France and, because he was forced to sign Magna Carta, his reign is generally considered to mark the start of the long decline of monarchical powers which has led to the current situation where the royal family are largely figureheads. No, we definitely don’t want another King John. Who knows what horrors might result?

JANE: Indeed!  I suppose that having some restrictions on the names you can give your son is a small price to pay for the opportunity of having him grow up to be a king within such a fine tradition as that held by England in specific and the UK in general.

Still, inherited positions of power seem a bit odd to this American (United States sub-variation).

ALAN: New habits for the new world, I suppose. But, here in the old world, we just take this kind of thing for granted.  Inheriting positions of power from your parents has always been part of life for as far back as recorded history goes (and it goes back a long way). So it just seems natural to us. But even the new world is not completely immune to the practice – what about President Bush I and President Bush II?

JANE: My dear, if you weren’t a friend, I’d suspect you of being obnoxious.  Elected offices are not inherited in this country.   However, certain families definitely have chosen politics as a family business.  Following your parents’ profession is fairly typical.

Let me give an example.

Law seems to be the default profession in my family.  My maternal grandfather was a lawyer, so were both my parents.  Thus, when one of my sisters (who worked for various environmental groups) was told that she really should consider an advanced degree (she already had a B.A.) in either law or biology, she naturally went for the field she knew.  I have a brother with a law degree, too.  My other sister seriously considered law.  I think I was the only one of the four of us who didn’t!

ALAN: I wasn’t really meaning to be obnoxious at all about the Bush family, and I wasn’t seriously proposing that offices are inherited in any formal sense – I was just pointing out that America does have the concept of the inheritance of power, albeit in a much less formal manner than we do (or did). And anyway, it’s fun to put Roman numerals after people’s names, even if (or perhaps especially if) the numerals are not supposed to be there.

Weren’t there several Roosevelts as well?

JANE:  Not “several,” just two.  Teddy Roosevelt and Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  Moreover, they weren’t all that closely related.  They were fifth cousins!

ALAN: That’s interesting. I’d always assumed they were much closer than that. How about the Kennedys?  They seemed well on their way to becoming a political dynasty until fate intervened in the worst possible way and cut that dream short.

JANE: They did, indeed.  However, if you look at the facts, rather than the legend, you’ll see that the seed was hardly planted.

Although many expected Bobby Kennedy to capitalize on his brother John’s success, the question is, would Bobby have actually done so?   He could be a very strong personality…  I don’t know this first hand – I was very young when both John and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated – but I have heard stories from people who knew the Kennedys.  (Remember, I grew up in D.C., my grandfather was in politics, and many of the people I grew up with were directly or indirectly connected with politics and worked on “the Hill.”)  I met John Kennedy when I was very small, though I don’t remember doing so!

ALAN: I remember both assassinations, and I vividly remember thinking “Oh, no! Not again! How can this be possible?” when Bobby was killed. It really shook me up despite the fact that it happened in a foreign country which was far, far away.

JANE: It is interesting to note that the Kennedys have never managed to have another family member elected president.  Teddy Kennedy was repeatedly elected to the Senate but, despite several runs for President, he never won. Why? Was it the scandal in his youth? Or was it precisely because he wasn’t John or Bobby?

It’s hard to follow martyrs.

Moreover, would John Kennedy be remembered with such passion if he hadn’t been assassinated?  Or would he be remembered as a young, not terribly effective president?  I think it’s important to note that many of the changes credited to John F. Kennedy were actually carried out by his successor.  Lyndon B. Johnson was an old-school politician with lots of “pull” and lots of favors to call in.

ALAN: Recent revelations about Kennedy’s conduct have exposed the personal and political flaws in Camelot. Even if he had served his full term, that information would probably have emerged sooner or later, and I suspect he’d have been remembered as young and flawed and in some ways quite politically naive. Certainly that’s how he appears to me now. And you are quite right in your comments about Johnson. He was very astute and a politician par excellence. But he seriously misjudged the situation in Vietnam and eventually that forced him out of office.

JANE: Several other Kennedys have held elected office as well, but the one who could have capitalized the most on the Kennedy mystique – John F. Kennedy, Junior – chose instead to follow his mother into publishing.  At the time of his death, he was editor and co-owner of George magazine.  Although he was repeatedly asked if he planned to follow the family “tradition,” he never gave a clear answer as to his intentions.

So, going back to your earlier point, I’ll admit that, especially when looked at in cynical isolation that leaves out how many presidents of the United States have not been related to other presidents, it does look as if there is a degree of nepotism.  However, there have only been two father/son pairs out of all our forty-four presidents.  The Roosevelts were actually fairly distantly related, and the Kennedys failed to establish a presidential dynasty.

At least in our system someone new can become president, but in the U.K. no one can become the monarch except those with the proper bloodline.

ALAN: Well, as I seem to say so often, yes and no…

JANE: Fascinating!  Let’s explore that next time.