Deborah J. Ross's Blog, page 7

[guest post] Judith Tarr on Story

Writer Brain: The Power of Storyby Judith Tarr



Story helps us process trauma and understand the world. I've been thinking more about what Story is, and what it does. And how as far as we can know, it's unique to humans.

We may find out that other animals tell each other stories, too. For now, we seem to be the only species that tells itself things that aren't true, but that contain a deeper truth. It may be a factor of the way our brains are constructed. We can think in layers. We can know what is, but also what might be or could be--and what couldn't possibly be except in our imagination.

It can be hard to tell what's true and what's not. We have a powerful capacity for self-deception, which can be dangerous. Consider the Big Lie. It's a deliberate falsehood that's told to serve a purpose, usually political or financial; that's repeated over and over until the people who are lied to believe it's true.

Which, yes, has something to do with the events of this month.

But I'm talking about Story here. About the lie that is, in its essence, true. It creates worlds and characters. It invents histories. It fabricates languages that can take on lives of their own.

People are out there speaking Klingon and more than one dialect of Elvish. They're living in our world but speaking words that came from the mind or minds of humans who imagined how alien beings would think and talk. It's a strange thing, but it's beautiful. It's a lie but it's true.

The image I chose for this post exists in multiple worlds. In this one it's a piece of jet contrail that caught the wind and attached itself to wisps of cloud. The light of the setting sun struck the ice crystals and give them the illusion of color, even while the wind made it seem to be moving steadily westward.

In another world, the world of Story, it's a dragon. Can you see the shape of it? The long neck. The snaky tail. The wings. It comes from the west and it's flying east over the mountains.

I don't know where it started or where it's aiming to go. But because I have the power of Story, I can imagine. I can invent a world for it to come from and a reason for it to be flying over this land, on this evening. I can make up a destination for it, and tell the story of what happens to it when it gets there.

Maybe it's a happy story. It's bringing good news to people who are waiting eagerly for it. Or maybe it's a tragedy. Something terrible happened, and it's warning the people in the east. Or it's a monster story, and it's hunting, and its prey is running away in front of it.

Personally I like the more optimistic kinds of stories. I understand and appreciate the need for the darker ones, for the way they shed light on our own darker impulses. But I lean more toward good news than bad. There will pretty definitely be darker moments, crises and reversals, but my mind wants them to end more happily than they began.

I know that every story can't and won't have a happy ending. Real life can hit hard. But one function of Story is to make it possible to withstand the hits. To find a way through. To face problems and, if at all possible, solve them.

Even if they can't be solved, at least we can try. We can imagine alternatives. We can hope.

Story helps us do that. That's its power.

That's why I'm writing fiction again. So that I can process what's happening. Deal with the hard parts. Find ways to make them less hard. And share those ways with other people, many of whom will share their own ways with me. And maybe, among all of us, we'll end up in a better place than we began.

Judith Tarr is the author of over forty novels and numerous short stories. She has a Patreon, where she shares fiction, nonfiction (like this blog), and (of course) cute cat pictures.

https://www.patreon.com/dancinghorse . 

She lives near Tucson, Arizona with a herd of Lipizzan horses, a small clowder of cats, and two Very Good Dogs.

Reprinted by permission

In Troubled Times: Bouncing Off the Bottom

Following the 2016 election, I wrote a series called In Troubled Times. It seems appropriate to post these again now
Last week I had a meltdown. It did not take the form oftears, irritability, or burning pots of vegetables (as I am wont to do when Iam upset and distracted). Instead, a horrible doomsday scenario popped into mymind and I could not talk myself out of it. Normally I’m not given to imaginingworst-case no-hope futures. I try to keep in mind that no matter how distraughtI am at any given moment, whatever is bothering me will not last forever. (Thisgoes for good times, too. All life is impermanent.) This time, however, thedreadful sequence had taken hold and would not be dislodged.

So I did what I have been advised to do about otherproblems. I put my nightmare out there and asked folks what they thought. Ioften joke that we muddle along because we’re not all crazy on the same day. Ifigured that even though my brains had taken a sharp turn to crazyland, therewere some saner people out there. Some agreed with me, others had their owndire forebodings, and still more had confidence that wiser heads would prevail.
After I’d calmed down, I had a serious moment of “What gotinto me?” I admit that I was a little embarrassed at losing it, especially insuch a public way. I tried to make light of the situation by joking that alienshad eaten my brains (one of my stock explanations for moments of temporaryinsanity).
Then I remembered to be kind to myself. No harm had beendone, after all, except to the illusion that I am always calm and rational.That’s a good illusion to shatter now and again for fear of being insufferable.Through painful experience, I’ve learned the importance of getting friendlywith things that upset or frighten me. What if my lapse were doing me a favorand what might it teach me?
Once I got some distance from the moment of panic, Irealized that I’d been expecting myself to progress in a straight, continuousmanner. No backsliding or side tracks. No relapses. Recovery sometimes workslike that, but more often it’s full of slips and detours, three steps sidewaysto every step forward. Just as when an alcoholic or addict “hits bottom” beforethey are ready to make substantial changes in their attitudes and lives, going“off the deep end” was a wake-up call for me. I saw then that I had beenstressed by more than the political situation. We have two sick or injuredpets, one of whom will likely not recover and will have to be euthanized.Several other challenging events have occurred that, taken singly, would bemanageable, but all together on top ofeverything else pushed me off-center.
I’m grateful to the friends who offered sage (andnot-so-sage) comments and thereby helped me to gain perspective on my owncondition. I’m incredibly annoyed that the universe ganged up on me in so manyways all at once. I’m also appreciative of the experiences I’ve had (good, bad,insane) over the years that have shown me I am not invincible but that if I amwilling to ask for help (and then take it), I am resilient and resourceful. Ivalue everyone and everything in my life that helps me to keep my prioritiesstraight.

Announcing the final Darkover novel

Farewell and Adelandeyo, Darkover

I fell in love with the Darkover series, created by the late Marion Zimmer Bradley, when becoming a professional author was still my dream. I loved the world, the characters, and the insightful and compassionate treatment of themes. Many of my early short fiction sales were to the Darkover anthology series, which I eventually had the honor of continuing as editor, beginning with Stars of Darkover. Around 1999, Mrs. Bradley asked if I would consider collaborating with her on one or more Darkover novels. She passed away just as we began work on The Fall of Neskaya (DAW, 2000), which I completed. Since then, I have written eight more Darkover novels under the supervision of her Literary Works Trust. The final volume, Arilinn, was released in hardcover and ebook formats on November 12, 2024.

Darkover is one of the longest-running and best-loved series, straddling the border between science fiction, romance, and fantasy. For decades, it has touched the hearts and fired the imaginations of generations of fans. The earliest published stories date back over half a century to the publication of The Planet Savers in Amazing magazine, then the first version of The Sword of Aldones in 1962 and The Bloody Sun in 1964. You can find the list, both in order of publication and Darkover chronology, here.

For the last quarter-century, I have striven to tell the best stories I could, always staying true to the spirit of Darkover and its amazing people.  Now the Marion Zimmer Bradley Literary Works Trust and I have agreed to bring the saga to a close with Arilinn, a heartfelt love letter and farewell to the series and its fans. I hope that if you have enjoyed my Darkover stories, you will check out my original work.

-- Deborah J. Ross  Arilinn  will be available in trade paperback in November 2025. It is currently available in the following formats:
Kindle: https://buff.ly/4cfj5Xm
ePub: https://buff.ly/3XiCZwA
Audiobook: https://www.audiobooks.com/audiobook/arilinn/800413
Hardcover: Amazon (perfect bound) https://buff.ly/48QprMG, or ask your bookstore to order hardcovers (with dust jacket) from Ingram, using ISBN 978-1-938185-83-0.

In Troubled Times: Annoyed? Irate!

Following the 2016 election, I wrote a series called In Troubled Times. It seems appropriate to post these again now
As the days post-election melt into weeks, I observe myselfmoving from disbelief to despair to relative calm . . . and now to feeling justplain annoyed. I am tired of the news being dominated by one horribleannouncement after another, and even more tired of how much attention is paidto the continuous verbal effluvia flowing from the president-elect. I am tiredof being jerked around emotionally by a bloviating buffoon whose chief delightseems to be keeping everyone else off-balance. I’m tired of every conversationabout the news beginning with “Guess what outrageous thing president-elect/hisnewest appointee/some member of Congress just said?”
It’s one thing to be appalled and frightened by thestatements of politicians now in power. There’s a time to focus on politics anda time for other parts of my life. It’s quite another to have my thoughts anddays hijacked by irresponsible sensationalism. Not to mention counterfactual(aka “lies”) distortions. Remember the meme of the person who can’t sleepbecause somewhere on the internet, someone is wrong? When my brain gets takenover by provocative statements, that’s where I am, duped into a cycle ofresearch and refutation. It’s a gazillion times worse if I give in to a lapsein judgment and actually reply to one of those folks-who-are-wrong. That neverends well, no matter how many times I persuade myself into believing otherwise.Social media do not, by and large, promote genuine discourse, but I get suckedinto trying. Of course, the responses only get me more wound up. That’s my responsibility,because I know better. But I really would like to be able to glance at the newsor visit a social media site now and again without having to fend off the lureof the outrageous.
Why is the fruitcake(and surrogates) dominating the news? I swear, every time he twitches a finger(especially in proximity to his cellphone), it makes headlines everywhere. Onhis part, the tactic of controlling the dialog by throwing out pompouslyoutrageous lies is nothing new. That’s how he dominated the primary debates. Hegot billions of dollars worth of free air time during the general campaign bypoking one hornets’ nest after another. Now he’s doing it on an internationalscale. And the news media buy into it every time, battling the hydra that growsa hundred heads for every one they whack off with facts. We’ve gone fromsucking all the oxygen out of the room to sucking all the oxygen out of thenews sphere and now the world.
I draw the line at sucking all the oxygen out of my head.Okay, I’m not hopeful that the media will take my suggestion to just ignore anysentence that includes “Trump” and “Tweet,” nor am I a good enough nerd toreprogram my computer to do that for me. Nor do I want to shut myself away fromnews of any sort. For one thing, I know myself well enough to admit that wouldbe too anxiety-provoking. I will likely do better when I become better at notresponding to trollishness.
But right now, mostly I’m annoyed to the point of beingdownright pissed. I recognize that anger can be friend or enemy. It’senergizing, which can be exhausting if I spend too much time wound up, orfocusing if I master it. If I give in, I run the risk of descending into petty insultsand ad hominen fallacies. Or I canuse it to point the way to improvements in my own attitudes and behavior. What’sgetting to me, and why? My anger can show me the line between things bestshrugged off and those that call for action.
This, however, is how I feel today:

Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith and Holofernes

Water on Ancient Mars?

 We all need a break from political news, so here's a cool story, slightly condensed, from Universe Today on the presence of water on ancient Mars.

There was Hot Water on Mars 4.45 Billion Years Ago

Earth and Mars were very similar in their youth. Four billion years ago, both planets had vast, warm seas. But while Earth retained its oceans, the waters of Mars evaporated away or froze beneath its dusty surface. Based on geological studies, we know that Earth’s water cycle seemed to have stabilized early. From about 4.5 billion years ago to today, water has had a stable presence on Earth. For Mars, things are less clear. Clay minerals cover about 45% of the Martian surface and date to what is known as the Noachian period, which ranges from 4.1 to 3.7 billion years ago. During the Amazonian period, which dates from 3 billion years ago to today, Mars seems to have been mostly dry. We have little evidence of the earliest period of Mars, known as the pre-Noachian. But a new study peels back the Martian ages to give us a glimpse of the first epoch of Mars, and it comes from a Martian meteorite known as Black Beauty.

This new study doesn’t focus on Black Beauty as a whole, but rather on small crystals of zircon embedded within it. These crystals can be dated to 4.48–4.43 billion years, meaning they formed in the Pre-Noachian period. What’s interesting is that the crystals have layers of iron, aluminum, and sodium in a pattern known as oscillatory zoning. Since zircon is igneous in origin, this kind of banding is almost unheard of in zircon crystals. On Earth, there is only one place where such a pattern occurs, which is in hydrothermal geysers such as those found in Yellowstone National Park.

The presence of these crystals in Black Beauty proves not only that Mars was wet during the Pre-Noachian period, but that it was geologically active with warm thermal vents. Similar vents on Earth may have triggered the formation of life on our world. Whether life ever existed on Mars is still an unanswered question, but it is clear that the conditions for life on Mars did exist in its earliest history.

Reference: Gillespie, Jack, et al. “Zircon trace element evidence for early hydrothermal activity on Mars.” Science Advances 110.47 (2024)

Kindness of the Season

Amidst the wishes of merry this and joyous that, I am reminded that for far too many of us, the winter holidays are stressful to the point of crazy-making. The pressure to buy things we don't have money for, or even if we do, the pressure to find "just the right present" sends us into a frenzy of consumerism. Most of us eat and drink far too much, don't exercise enough, and in general let good intentions go by the wayside.

Then there are the family dynamics. The winter holidays are like putting dysfunctions old and new on steroids. Under the guise of ho-ho-ho bonhomie, whatever has been hurtful and unresolved resurfaces. Alcoholism and abuse emerge from the shadows. Unhealed wounds re-open.

The shortness of the days and the difficulty of getting fresh air and sunshine add to the gloom. Instead of green leaves and flowers, we find ourselves surrounded by frozen slog or mud. If we have any predisposition at all to Seasonal Affective Disorder, it perks right up.

To resist all this, we need black-belt self-care, not just for ourselves, but for the people we love. Kindness, simplicity...slowing down. Breathing. Stretching. Reflecting. Taking the time to feel what we need to nourish our bodies, our mind, our spirits.

The best holiday gift we can give is to be fully present with one another. To do that, most of us need reminding that we ourselves are precious. When our hearts are open, not only do we become fully alive, but we inspire and complete the aliveness of those around us.

In this, and every season, be peace. Be joy. Be love. Be yourself.

Book Review: We Always Knew Cooking Was Magical

A Thousand Recipes for Revenge, by Beth Cato (47North)

What a rich and fascinating world Beth Cato has created in AThousand Recipes for Revenge! In her analog of Western Europe, Chefs havean empathic connection with food and wine, especially those elements called “epicurea,”harvested from magical beings (like unicorn “tonic”). In Verdania, suchtalented individuals are strictly controlled by the royal court. Ada Garland isone such, in hiding after deserting the army many years ago, when the toll ofinjustice and bloodshed became unbearable. Solenn, a foreign princess forcedinto betrothal to the Verdanian crown prince, has no idea what to expect when herepicurean gift suddenly arises. Political intrigue, fast-paced action, great characterswho develop through their tribulations, weird and often selfish gods, and amazingplot twists make for an absorbing and highly satisfying read.

I had a slow start in the initial few pages in which I struggledto connect with Ada. Once Solenn appeared on the scene, dignified anddetermined but overwhelmed by her new destiny, I was utterly carried away. Iloved Solenn’s quiet competence, her love of her homeland that she might neversee again, and especially her passion for horses. The scene in which sheprotects a horse that’s being abused made me love her forever. After that, Ada’ssituation, on the run from mysterious assassins, trying to find a safe havenfor her dementia-ridden grandmother, and still grieving the separation from thelove of her life, took on fresh color and urgency. I decided the problem was me,not the story, as I could not think of a better approach.

Cato’s depth and storytelling skill shine through as theelements of world-building, character, and story mesh together with dramaticflair.

 

 

Short Book Reviews: Stealing a Human/Alien Hybrid Ghost

 Not of This World, by Simon R. Green (SevernHouse)

Gideon Sable--master thief, con artist, and self-proclaimedvigilante--faces a challenge he can't resist: to break into the British Area 51and steal a ghost. Not just any ghost, but a hybrid between a human astronautand an alien utterly bent on destruction. Although Gideon suspects the motivesand veracity of his would-be client, he gathers his crew, lured with thepromise of being able to walk off with whatever ultra-secret, ultra-valuable gadgetsthey can lay their hands on. His crew includes The Damned, armored by thehaloes of two dead angels; Switch-It Sally, who can switch out just aboutanything; a werewolf; and Annie Anybody, capable of fully embodying an array ofpersonas (in this case, Melody Mead, Girl Adventurer). Of course, nothing goesas planned, and this volume is, like its predecessors, jam-packed with plot twists,treachery, and revelations.

Gideon and his crew have come a long way since he first convincedthem to join up with him, progressing through suspicion and animosity togrudging respect and, now, the bonds of family. In the last episode, The Damnedand Switch-It Sally not only fell in love but also informally adopted the youngwerewolf. Gideon himself has gone from being a nameless man who inherited alegend to the emotional glue and super-planner brains holding it all together.In this sense, the book is as much about loyalty and family as it is about thepresent adventure. This gives a supernatural spy/con-man romp satisfying depth.I hope there will be many more books in the series.

In Troubled Times: Antidote to Despair

Following the 2016 election, I wrote a series called In Troubled Times. It seems appropriate to post these again now. This came out on December 9, 2016
Recently a friend voiced her despair about the effect of theelections and the president-elect’s nominations on the future of the planet. Shesaid “fear” was too mild a term. Her conversation kept referencing thePermian extinction event and the destruction of the Earth. I admit I didn’trespond well. I tend to react to emotion-laden exaggerations of complex issues,and that reaction overrode the compassionate thing to do, which was to listento her feelings. My mind flipped from a conversation about emotions to oneabout facts. Needless to say, she was not interested in whether currentprojects are for a target global warming of 3.6 degrees or 4 degrees Celsius.
In observing my own mind, I notice what I do when faced withthe notion of looming ecological disaster. I run away to information. In thiscase, at least, I find it calming. The facts don’t change, but researching theissue and reading the considered opinions of people with legitimate scientificcredentials who have studied the matter in depth changes my emotional reaction.I suspect a portion of this runs along the lines of, “Whew, I don’t have to figure this out all on my own!” I’m only one ofmany who are grappling with the problem.
Clearly, this was not my friend’s process. A little bit ofinformation (the Permian extinction event plunged her into even greater hopelessness.From this I take away something so simple, its profound truth often escapes me:we don’t all cope with stressful news in the same way.
I’ve written about paying attention to what makes me feelcalmer or more distraught, and then making mindful choices. Although informationis helpful to me, it can also have an addictive quality. We writers joke aboutdoing so much research on a novel project, the book never gets written.Similarly, I can mire myself in one source after another until I go numb. Thatnumb state is a sure sign I’ve either made a poor choice or gone too far.
Blogging about my process, however, seems not to have a downside. I suspect this is because such writing puts me in better touch with myfeelings and increases my sensitivity to what is good for me and what is harmful.It has the added benefit of being of service to others who are wrestling withthe same issues, searching for a way through the morass of upset feelings to a wayforward in what the Buddhists call “right action.”
Reaching out to others, offering my help, sharing myexperience and insight and listening to their own, all these things lift mefrom despair.
What things help you?

Short Book Reviews: Puzzles Can't Carry the Plot

 The Puzzle Master,by Danielle Trussoni (Random House)

After a traumatic brain injury leaves him with a genius forconstructing and solving puzzles, Mike Brink embarks upon a real-life riddle: novelistJess Price, in prison for committing a notorious murder, pleads to see him inperson although they have never met. She slips a baffling cipher to him, the “GodPuzzle.” In trying to figure out what happened the night of the murder, whatpresent danger has Jess terrified, and what the cipher means, Mike gets drawninto a twisted, generations-long story of forbidden arcane knowledge with thepower to transform technology and humanity itself.

I loved the beginning of the book, especially the passagesin which Mike sees puzzles as luminous patterns. Other than the occasionalcrossword, I’m not much for puzzles, so this “look-inside” was fascinating. Asthe story went on, with diaries telling stories-within-stories, I lostemotional connection with Mike. I distrusted his attraction to Jess as one morepasted-on artificial element. (It turned out there was a reason for the allure,but I didn’t see the signals that supernatural forces were at work.) Longpassages that had nothing to do with Mike’s present quest intensified the emotionaldetachment. Three-quarters of the book, a series of characters arrived andproceeded, very much deus ex machina, to solve Mike’s problems for himwhile dumping huge, indigestible chunks of exposition. This part read as if twocompletely different books had been jammed together. Despite scattered sceneswith action, the remainder of the book proceeded with very little sense thateverything had been building to this point. In the end, Mike did relativelylittle to achieve his own goal or solve his own problems. The book was billedas a “thriller,” but the last part did a good job putting me to sleep. Which istoo bad, really, because the material about puzzles was fascinating.