Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 33
July 3, 2022
Orycon 38 on the Horizon. Resurrected Post.
Orycon beckons once again. The Portland science-fiction convention has asked me back as a panelist for the 2016 con, the 38th.
Looks like I���ll be given a reading. I wonder what I should read. Something from my next novel, perhaps? An older short story? Any suggestions?
I see I���m scheduled for an autograph session. If you find yourself at Orycon this year, drop by and say hello at Autograph Alley. I���ll be the one looking bemused and lonely behind a stack of books.
Seriously, if you are interested in meeting me at the convention, here���s my schedule for the weekend. I hope to see you there.
Autograph Session 2 Autograph Area (LL1) Sat Nov 19 1:00pm ��� 2:00pm ����Cait Spivey, Jeffrey Cook, Ken Lizzi
Underpinnings of World Building Salon A (LL1) Sat Nov 19 2:00pm ��� 3:00pmJennifer Brozek, John Ark, Ken Lizzi, Mark Ezell, Vannessa McClelland
Ken Lizzi Reading Hawthorne (2) Sat Nov 19 3:30pm ��� 4:00pm Ken Lizzi
Why Fantasy Matters Salon C (LL1) Sun Nov 20 12:00pm ��� 1:00pm Ken Lizzi, Lindsay Schopfer, Rhiannon Louve, Shawna Reppert, Shoshana Glick
Books On CD. Resurrected Post.
Move to the new house complete, I now enjoy a thirty-five plus minute drive to work, usually more on the way home. This leaves me with some time to pass while in traffic. I���m sure there are many options. But I did not hesitate. Once the move was scheduled, I hit the library for books on compact disc.
This commute gives me at least an hour a day of reading time. Or, at least, being read to time. Others in traffic around me are frustrated, impatient, even angry. Me, I don���t even mind failing to make the yellow light. It���s an extra minute of story.
I���ve finished Chris Kyle���s autobiography, ���American Sniper.��� I���d already seen the movie. It was interesting seeing what bits and pieces the screen writers pulled out of the book for the screenplay, what changes they made, and what was sheer invention.
I���m two discs into ���Seveneves,��� Neil Stephenson���s latest. As usual, it is gripping and brilliantly written. I do wonder if he���ll manage to stick the landing. While I take a backseat to no one in appreciation of his writing, he does have a touch of Stephen King-itis: the endings of his books can come across as perfunctory, tacked-on, unsatisfactory. I wonder if this is in part due to the length of his books. Given the time we invest as readers, perhaps our expectations are raised, or our involvement in the characters is such that we feel somehow owed more payoff, maybe an epilogue with a synopsis of each surviving major character���s post-story existence.
In any case, I intend to use the time for more than listening to the radio. I suppose I ought to get back into Spanish language studies. Quisas. I���ve got plenty of time.
Settling In. Resurrected Post.
I���ve been in the new house about three weeks now. The majority of the unpacking is complete. It is even conceivable a car could be parked in the garage soon. But that doesn���t mean I���m nearly finished. Oh, no. The torrent of chores may have dwindled to a stream, but the flow continues.
Of growing urgency is the need to buy a lawnmower. The grass inches ever taller. I���ve been hitting stores over the last couple of days, searching for a grass cutter. But I want a reel mower, not a power mower. I don���t want to deal with engines and gasoline. The lawn isn���t that big. But autumn nears and even those stores that do stock reel mowers have cleared away the inventory. Back to Amazon, I guess. Some assembly required, indeed.
I bought a caulking gun. And caulk. This means, I suppose, impending caulking. My television died in its sleep. So, I had to buy another one. You guessed it, Amazon. ETA: any day now. Various items of furniture remain on the to-be-purchased list. One piece at a time, I suppose, except for dining room chairs and bar stools. Buying those piecemeal makes little sense.
Hear that sound? That���s my wallet screaming.
Grout sealed. Check. Minor job done. But fences, now there���s an undertaking. And getting a concrete slab poured out back. And���well, it just goes on.
It���s like writing a book, in a sense. The task consists of a continually evolving sequence of chores. Plot, character motivation, distinctive characterization, narrative pace, planting information, evocative description. Reaching a goal ��� say establishing an important plot point ��� requires achieving a certain number of subgoals, like ensuring a character would be likely to make a certain statement, meaning prior demonstration of a certain personality, earlier utterance of similar statements, etc. And then something unexpected demands another series of actions. Then reaching the primary goal reveals another series of tasks yet to complete. It goes on and on.
Except, it doesn���t. Eventually, you finish writing the book. Editing and proofreading are complete, and the book is off the printer. You���re done. But with a house, it never ends. Never. Regular maintenance requires maintaining. Regularly. New chores pop up. Re-design and remodeling will occur, whether you want it or not, especially when one���s spouse has a background in architecture and design.
So, settling in, yes. Settled? Never.
Boise. Resurrected Post.
Another wedding, another road trip. This time, Boise, Idaho and another sibling getting hitched.
So, Boise. What to write about Boise? First, let me get something off my chest. Come on, Boise, put in some grocery stores. Seriously. And some convenience stores, not attached to gas stations, in locations that are ��� convenient.
Boise is brown. Tan, ecru, burnt umber, buff. Brown. Nice enough I suppose. Maybe an acquired taste, or I simply notice the somewhat monochromatic scenery because I���ve spent most of my life living the Pacific Northwest and my expectation is attuned to green.
I���ve discovered some nice places. For example, in the Boise suburb of Meridian there is a terrific park with a world class playground for the kids. And I can envision passing afternoons at Payette Brewing, down by the river in Boise, sitting at the picnic tables in the beer garden or playing one of the lawn games, pint in hand. I���m familiar with the ���Rustler,��� a solid IPA. I sampled a couple taproom only IPAs and a barleywine. All decent to good. 10 Barrel Brewing is located downtown. It���s an offshoot of the headquarters brewery, but I���m pleased to see it maintains the architectural design aesthetic of the original Bend location. And the lettuce wraps were excellent.
Unfortunately I can only eat and drink so much. So, there must be more. The zoo was modest, but entertaining. And the price matched, especially thanks to the reciprocity granted by my Portland zoo membership card.
The state capitol is right downtown. That���s fairly cool. Downtown itself is lively on a weekend (especially a Bronco���s game weekend) though small.
I���m here for a few more days, so I hope to discover more to see and do. I didn���t bring my bicycle, nor attire for white water rafting (neither of which activities are suited to the aptitudes and proclivities of a toddler anyway) so outdoor recreation will have to wait until the next visit.
In the meantime, I have a wedding to dress for.
The Labor Day Post. Resurrected Post.
Let me tell you tales of labor of high adventure. Or, maybe not. I mean, you���ve got your Labors of Hercules. But let���s face it, those weren���t so much lunch pail jobs as they were quests. And Hercules was hardly a blue collar fellow.
There is Sam. Samwise Gamgee, that is. He provides, probably, the quintessential exemplar of the working class hero. A gardener on a heroic quest. A participant at least. The only of the Fellowship with a job. The rest of the Fellowship consisted of aristocrats or demigods. Good work, if you can get it.
Garrett, P.I. is self-employed. In fact, he���s employed as little as possible, preferring to loaf rather than labor. And now that he���s got people on his payroll, he is management, not labor. The boss.
Neither Conan, Fafhrd, or the Gray Mouser ever worked a steady job if they could help it. Why would we want them to? Those of us bringing home a paycheck who also read heroic fiction do so to forget about the job for awhile. We don���t want to read about Conan���s day at the office, or the Gray Mouser���s panel van breaking down along his route. We want to read about them breaking heads in a tavern brawl.
Look, there is nobility in work, in doing your job well and taking care of your family financially. But it isn���t the stuff of legend. I understand there is a market for business novels in Japan. Good for them, but I can���t say it sparks my interest. No, when I get home from work I���d rather open a book to swashbuckling adventure, not to salary negotiation and the copier malfunctioning again.
So happy Labor Day, all. Have a cold one, toss a dog on the grill, and read a tale of high adventure.
Books: The Un-Boxening. Resurrected Post.
I���ve moved into a new house. A new house seemingly inhabited by boxes. Boxes that shift and rearrange themselves into a continuously moving maze. I started tackling one section of that maze, attempting to clear away the savage boxes to make room for civilized living. Specifically, the room that is to be my library, the sanctum from which I will type such drivel as this you are currently reading.
As you can see from the picture above that I herded the boxes into a large, centrally located heap. Those are my books, sequestered within those cardboard confines. I���ve missed them, most having been in storage for several months. Let my books be free!
Slicing open one box after another it is clear this will be no easy task.
I���ve freed some, establishing temporary homes for a few of my books upon their old shelves.
But clearly, this struggle will drag on, the boxes putting up a stubborn defense until the moment of my inevitable victory. Though I expect a hold-out, guerilla resistance: I don���t yet have enough shelf space.
The Web Log is on the Move. Resurrected Post.
The Web Log is spending the day packing. Along with ��� probably ��� most evenings for the rest of the week, right up until the night before the moving truck arrives. Next week���s web log post will be written in my library in the new house ��� assuming I���m not too busy unpacking. I���m considering the inappropriate and pretentious appellation ���Meduseld��� for the new digs. Snazzy, huh?
Now, back to packing.
All the Latest. Resurrected Post.
Publishing news stirs at the doorstep of Casa Lizzi, and tidings loom and rumble in the distance. It is time, in other words, for an update on upcoming releases from yours truly.
I���ve mentioned before a story I placed in a crime fiction anthology. Well, August 15 is the official publishing date for Mama Tried: Crime Fiction Inspired by Outlaw Country Music. I���m looking forward to this one. Get some Waylon Jennings playing on Pandora and dive into the mess of people behaving poorly toward one another. I think beer ought to be involved somehow during the reading process. I���m leaning toward drinking it, but we���ll see.
I���ve never been a single genre reader. Crime fiction has made up a significant portion of my reading. Elmore Leonard contributed heavily to that portion. In fact his work inspired me to write Thick As Thieves, a fantasy/crime novel. I���m please to reveal those looming tidings in the distance: yesterday I received a contract for publication of Thick As Thieves. It should be available sometime in the first half of 2017.
Good news. Of course that means handing the manuscript over to an editor. Sigh. I realize it���s essential. I suppose it is like going to the dentist. I maintain a regular oral hygiene routine. My teeth are clean and healthy. I could skip twice-yearly exams without catastrophic consequences. But those checkups, x-rays, and cleanings provide unquestioned improvements. Detail work, those tiny metal hooks scraping away accumulations of tartar. Unpleasant, yes, but ultimately worthwhile. Same with editing. Yes, the manuscript is fine as it is, but it can be improved. Another set of eyes attuned to the details, scraping away accumulations of adverbs, x-raying for plot holes. Worth the time and effort. At least I hope you���ll think so.
Happy reading.
June 26, 2022
The Great Garret Reread Part V
The reread continues. As with last week, traveling prevented me from continuing with the re-uploading of lost posts. Eventually I will get that project back on track. However, in the meantime, I’ve been reading. That is, rereading.
Along with Petty Pewter Gods ����� the opposite bookend of the relatively serious Faded Steel Heat ����� Angry Lead Skies is one of the pair of books that Cook wrote thinking, let���s ���see what happens with this?��� He���d done gods, why not aliens? Up front then, like PPG, ALS does not count among my favorite of the Garrett books, feeling ��� as does PPG ��� out of place.
But, is it still enjoyable?
An aside: is the first name of the character Cypres Prose a riff on the word Cypress or is it a nod toward the legal term cy pres? Those of us damned to work as lawyers want to know.
Cypres (Kip) Prose is a budding genius, whose powers of invention are goosed by aliens. That���s right. Flying saucer Grays. Fugitive aliens. Being pursued by alien cops. Aliens who have no magic. I���ve not quite grasped that: if magic exists in the Garrett universe (as it demonstrably does) why would it be confined to one planet? I���ve no objection to genre-mixing, but the introduction of UFOs and little green (gray) men to TunFaire has never felt right.
The humor is sharp in this one, leaning more on situational quirks than the usual Garrett POV smartassery.��
The Rose triplets return! Looks like Doris and Marsha have finally picked up some Karentine.
The book meanders, gazes at its own navel, hangs about the kitchen table. There���s a hint of Cook thinking Garrett needs to grow up. And there���s more than a bit of Garrett being all lad. But it remains engaging throughout, an exemplar of Garrett���s hold on the readers here in book number what, ten?
Moving on.
Despite a plot involving feuding religions, Whispering Nickel Idols isn���t actually a return to PPG territory. For which I am thankful. For a Garrett book, the mystery is relatively mundane. Emphasis on the relatively. The story is convoluted, with multiple converging threads. I appreciated the return to the somewhat more traditionally mystery genre footing.
There is a strong Nero Wolfe feel to this one. For a good chunk of the story, Garrett gets laid up, and is thus sidelined, unable to do the footwork. So Saucerhead, Winger, and Morley get thrust into roles as ersatz Saul Panzer, Fred Durkin, and Orrie Cather. (My guess: Morley Dotes = Saul Panzer, Saucerhead Tharpe = Fred Durkin, and Winger = Orrie Cather.) We even get what I think is a reference to Lieutenant Rowcliff.
The Dead Man gets center stage in this, with Garrett largely doing his bidding, fi\tting more neatly the Archie Goodwin role. The Dead Man gets to growl, insult, plot, and stage his coup, while Garrett and co. arrange for various players to drop by for interviews.All that is missing is the red leather chair.
Glen Cook had done his usual masterful job in laying down intriguing bits of business in books that aren���t resolved, only to fuel subsequent volumes. We get some payoffs here as well as some new hints.
In all, a middling Garrett book. I���ll take it.
If you���re not reading the Garrett Files (and you should be, if you haven���t already) may I recommend one of mine? How about Under Strange Suns, my action/sci-fi homage to Edgar Rice Burroughs��� John Carter of Mars.��
June 19, 2022
The Great Garrett Re-read IV
Petty Pewter Gods
Glen Cook shifts the tone of the series in Petty Pewter Gods. There is always a lighthearted, wise-ass element to the books, but in PPG Cook seems to be interested in experimenting with a broader style of humor, almost slapstick.��
Perhaps this resulted from the subject matter. The Garrett files have dealt with religion before, specifically in Cold Copper Tears. But CCT deals with churches and clergy, not with the deities themselves. In introducing pantheons riffing off Greek and Norse myths, Cook brings up ontological questions that he might not want to address, especially not in a breezy homage to Rex Stout, et. al. It could be that he deliberately chose a sort of cartoony, satirical note in order to sidestep the larger existential questions raised by the gods walking the stage alongside Garrett. Oh, he does address it, starting with the ���gods are created by the belief of the worshipers��� trope, then mostly ignores any deeper questions or implications, only to come back later with a moderately interesting alternate reality angle that sidesteps the bigger philosophical conundrums. It���s fine, exceeding a hand-waving minimum of explanation. But it doesn���t really feel like a Garrett story, instead like an early indication that Cook has run through his initial trove of stories; that he hadn���t expected the series to run this long.
It isn���t all Garrett-mouths-off-to-the-gods. Some of the serious elements Cook teased in earlier books began to show fruit. The veterans are coming home, finding all the jobs taken by non-humans and refugees from the Cantard ��� the land they���d just been risking their lives in. Tensions have reached the boiling point.
After letting Garrett fly solo in the previous volume, Cook brings the Dead Man back into play, leaning heavily into the Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin dynamic. It���s fun to see the little winks and nods to Rex Stout. And it is a fun book, once you let yourself get over the offbeat feel of the story. The ending is murky, lacking a coherent wrap up, and leaving certain question unanswered, or answered in such a fashion that I failed to comprehend. But it is still a Garrett book. And Cook even manages to foreshadow the next book, setting some pieces in place.
Faded Steel Heat.
Four years after Petty Pewter Gods, we received Faded Steel Heat. As hinted at in PPG, Mr. Weider has a job for Garrett and sends Tinnie Tate, and a couple others of the type Garrett can���t resist, to offer him the case.
Cook has loosened up on the language. I don���t recall any F-bombs being dropped in prior volumes.
On the Tinnie Tate watch, I���m getting a better idea as to why Garrett makes the decision he does, come book #14. Ornamented by Garrett���s snappy, wise-ass narrative, her attitude and behavior can come across as cute and amusing. But, reading more closely…Well she���s no Lily Rowan.
Plot seeds sown in earlier books began to produce bitter fruit in FSH. The war is over. The veterans have returned. Rabble rousing demagogues are in position to take advantage of their confusion, despair over lack of work, long-simmering anger that the non-humans had been exempt from the draft, etc. Garrett finds his Weider job embroiling him with the various extremist groups.
Mr. Weider, in a manner similar to General Stantnor in Old Tin Sorrows, finds himself beginning to question the wisdom of hiring Garrett, though unlike Stantnor, he lacks any culpability for the tragedies that occur in his mansion during an elaborate social gathering.
The Garrett cast grows, as we are introduced to Pular Singe. From this point, Garrett will have to confront his prejudice against ratmen. Perhaps that fits the theme of FSH.
After the broad comedy of PPG, FSH is almost too serious. Almost. Cook takes his time, letting the pot slowly simmer. Perhaps the book could have moved along more quickly. But I don���t mind whacking through the weeds with Garrett, slowly putting together the threads of the mystery.
I think, had he so desired, Cook could have wrapped up the series with FSH. He���s dealt with all the stray plot points left wandering loose in prior books. And it wouldn���t have been a bad place to end things, with a solid ��� if not spectacular ��� entry. But I for one am glad he carried on.
Anyways, Happy Father���s Day. I spent most of mine on the road and I���m beat. I’m not even going to take the time to re-upload posts lost in the web log crash, so that project will fall behind a�� week. Please forgive me if I launch right into the obligatory sales pitch without a segue. Buy Blood and Jade. It���s good.
