Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 58

Appendix N in Retrospect

After this web log’s sporadic (perhaps, from your perspective, interminable) consideration of the authors listed in the Dungeon Masters Guide Appendix N, perhaps some sort of summation is required. What do I think of the list? What do I think of its application to the Dungeons and Dragons game?

With few reservations, I applaud the list and recommend at least some of the works by the included authors. Notably excluded is Margaret St. Clair. Others (Gary Gygax, obviously) enjoy her writing. But otherwise, Appendix N gets the Ken Lizzi seal of approval. The material is primarily pulp; a good thing from my perspective. It runs the gamut from rather disposable, light entertainment to quality work of rather high literary value. Let’s call it a Fox to Vance scale, but don’t let that lead you to believe I am disparaging Gardner Fox. I like disposable, light entertainment.

I’m hardly through with these writers simply because I’ve checked off each on web log post. In fact my current workout book is a collection of Jack Vance’s Planet of Adventure novels. There remains a great deal of solid enjoyment to derive from Appendix N, not limited to re-reading what is already on my shelves.

Does the influence of Appendix N appear in D&D? I suppose that varies from table to table, and — perhaps most importantly — on what edition you play. I may be wrong here, but it seems to me that the current of play has driven the game to a narrower, generic vision than Gygax’s as laid out in First Edition AD&D. Many of the tropes borrowed from Appendix N were left behind in eddies and slower currents (where you’ll find the table I play at.) The sheer, almost gonzo, variety of pulp material has been discarded, leaving a game more resembling an anime version of the Lord of the Rings, more focused on story-telling and character development than on exploration, problem solving, and tactical combat. And if that’s your thing, then kampai. But I think the spirit of Appendix N is attenuated in such games, virtually non-existent. A new Appendix N is probably in order for newer editions (and perhaps exists. I don’t know.) 

I’ll leave exploration of such newer lists to others. This old dog is happy with his old tricks. And his old Appendix.

Roger Zelazny, Appendix N’s Master of the Multiverse

As it inevitably must, this series on Appendix N reaches its end. At least we go out on a high note, with that nonpareil, Roger Zelazny.

Roger Zelazny is best known for his Amber novels. Amber is the city of which all other cities are mere reflections. It is located in the one, ‘true’ Earth. Earth Prime if you like. The light source for Plato’s cave. It is the epicenter of the multiverse. An infinity of alternate realities (ours, for example) radiate from it like ripples in a pond.

A member of the royal family of Amber can traverse these other dimensions – these ‘shadows.’ He can travel to any world he can imagine by adding or subtracting elements of his surroundings as he goes.

The primary narrative of the original ‘Amber’ series concerns the dynastic struggle ensuing upon the disappearance of the king. The protagonist and first person narrator, Corwin, is one of the princes and a claimant for the throne. The story moves crisply. Intrigues, alliances, civil war, treachery, heroic battles, a seemingly inexhaustible supply of exotic locations and vividly imagined beings.

The influence of ‘Amber’ on Dungeons and Dragons can be inferred from the accepted notion of dimensional travel in the game, of the ability to access other planes of existence through spells or magical devices. Zelazny hardly created the first example of the concept of the multiverse, but his pedigree is irreproachable and his variation on the theme is great fun to read.

Another influence, perhaps, on D&D is the game’s inclusion of decks of cards as magical treasure. This might be a nod to the decks Amber’s ruling family use to communicate with each other or even travel instantaneously. The tarot predates Zelazny’s work, of course, and other writers – notably Charles Williams – have employed it effectively in their fiction. But ‘Amber’ might have been an immediate influence.

Amber, as a fixed point and origin of shadows, can also be considered as a source of stability, or ‘Law.’ The “Courts of Chaos” counterbalance this manichean multiverse. This perhaps provided yet another fictional example for the alignment trope that D&D appropriated for the original editions.

Are there other contributions to D&D from Zelazny’s classic that I’ve missed? Any glaring examples I’ve forgotten?

I hope you’ve enjoyed visiting, or re-visiting Appendix N with me. Thanks for coming along.

Not Even More Too Late Movie Reviews.

As I mentioned last week, MBW and the HA were out of town. Long-time readers of the web log (if any such creatures exist) know what that means: reviews of movies you all saw ages ago. I took some sketchy notes during my viewing, so for this entry in the series I’ll not be relying solely on my memory. Happily for you readers, this means a shorter post.

We begin with The Man Who Shot Hitler and Then Big Foot. Dreamy, elegiac pulp fiction. Exactly the sort of thing I should have liked. But it felt thin, stretched; like too little story spread over too long a running time. It could have used an injection of humor, ala Bubba Hotep. I imagine the idea looked good on paper.

Venom. Low Expectations Theater. The film concerned terrible, unethical people using and abusing each other. It was improved by turning into a buddy comedy/redemption story by the third act. If you stay through the credits you’ll be rewarded by a cameo of Woody Harrelson playing Sideshow Bob as Carnage.

MIssion Impossible: Fallout. Competent, entirely forgettable action fare. Formulaic and derivative. At one point during the film I had to fight off the desire to throw my copy of Ronin into the DVD player.

Redbad. Not good. Fell asleep. My one coherent note concerned the castles featured in the film, “So many guardrails.” I suppose if you are filming on location and on the cheap, you can’t remove the anachronistic safety rails along the stairs and parapets.

Captain Marvel. The Struggle to Care. Who are these people? What the hell is going on? It is hard to critique such vacuous mediocrity.  I liked the Stan Lee tribute.

Tonight, with MBW and the HA home, we’ll be watching the sequel to the Lego Movie. I hope it holds up to the first, but I’m skeptical.

Father’s Day/Brew Day

MBW and the HA gave me a unique Father’s Day gift this year: quiet time. MBW drove the HA to California for a week’s visit to visit grandparents. The HA will get some camping in, MBW will get some work done. And I get a week at home of quiet and sleeping in.

My family loves me.

I finished the first round of editing for the publisher of “Karl Thorson and the Jade Dagger.” Look for it in November.

I got in nine holes of golf. There is something to be said for playing without anyone looking over your shoulder. Relaxation leads to better shots.

And Father’s Day also served as brew day. We’ll see in three months how this batch turns out.

Now, I’ve got some cooking, cleaning, and laundry to do. Happy Father’s Day.

All Aboard the Comma Express

I have a tentative release schedule for Karl Thorson and the Jade Dagger of mid-November. And that means editing. What fun.

That last sentence, for those of you new to this web log, was sarcasm. Editing is not, has not, and never will be fun. However, I have to say that this trip aboard the editing train is surprisingly smooth and relatively comfortable. Perhaps I was more careful than usual in the initial drafts. Maybe I’m getting better. Whatever the reason, the requested changes are minimal.

I am, it seems, overly scanting of commas. I’m not entirely convinced that is the case, but I am willing to allow the editor’s judgement to supersede mine in the vast majority of the requests for additional commas. What’s the point of having editors if you are unwilling to listen to them?

My hyphenation game is also, apparently, not up to par. Something to work on improving, I suppose.

The point is, the editing is proceeding smoothly and I’ll be able to get back to writing the sequel shortly.

More news to follow. Perhaps a cover reveal. I know I’m looking forward to seeing it.

Pros and Cons

I received invitations recently to serve as a panelist on two conventions, MALCon in August and Orycon in November. I suppose I will accept and attend. However, I have been considering whether or not I should.

For many of the fans of the sort of fiction involving spaceships and magical swords (my genres, gentle reader) conventions are essential events on the social calendar. I went to my first at, as I recall, the age of eighteen and attended a few others before being invited to come as a writer and sit on the other side of the table.

What I’ve been wondering is whether convention attendance holds value. Are the con-goers getting anything from my contribution? Do they care if I am there? Am I in some way contributing to a sense of community? Is this an expected way for authors to show appreciation for the readers? Am I receiving any value? Does my name recognition flutter up even a trifle? Do my book sales increase after a convention? Does it matter if I am getting anything out of it; is convention attendance simply good form on the part of an author?

Do I want to shell out for airfare to Denver and a hotel room? That’s an August weekend I could spend with my family. I recognize the part conventions play in the lives of many — a chance to meet friends seen only at these get togethers, an opportunity to gather with like-minded individuals, etc. The truth is that cons don’t play such a role in my life. In fact, despite the fact that I am both a consumer and producer of the kind of entertainment celebrated at science-fiction conventions, I often feel somewhat of an outsider.

So let me ask you, gentle reader, if you attend science-fiction contentions, what benefit do you derive? What ideally would you get from the experience? Do you think conventions still have a role to play?

Well, I’m still inclined to go. If you see me at either of the cons I mentioned above, please come say hello. I’ll probably be at the bar.

Memorial Day

The web log is taking Memorial Day weekend off.

Jack Williamson, Appendix N’s Master of Adventure

Jack Williamson on the shelf.

We reach at last Jack Williamson, the penultimate entry in this slapdash consideration of Appendix N. Considering how prolific Jack Williamson was during his lengthy, exemplary career, I’m surprised I’ve read so little of his work. The man nearly reached a century and was producing fiction for most of it, having his first story published at the age of twenty.

His most famous work might be The Legion of Space, a sort of Three Musketeers space adventure serial. I enjoyed the first volume. It doesn’t bear up well under critical scrutiny, but if that’s the sort of reader you are then Jack Williamson adventure stories aren’t for you. Climb aboard, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. Don’t bother observing the vehicle you are riding too closely.

Williamson is primarily known as a science fiction author. But I want to discuss his fantasy, specifically Reign of Wizardry. When I find myself in a used bookstore I’m always on the lookout for vintage sword-and-sorcery, some forgotten classic or stand-out novel that never received its just due. Usually I’m disappointed, finding a subpar or at best mediocre effort. But Reign of Wizardry is that rare, satisfying find. The real goods.

Reign of Wizardry is pseudo-historical S&S, playing with the Theseus myth. It throws in many of the tropes: the sword forged from meteoric iron, magic, bits of science as magic, sea battles, sword fights, dungeon crawls, arena duels, prison escapes, etc. The story opens with action and rolls on from there without slowing. Williamson was a master at keeping the plot going, moving from danger to danger without a pause for breath.

I can’t swear Gary Gygax read this one, but I wouldn’t be surprised. We have illusions, polymorphing, lightning bolts, a sort of bronze golem in the form of Talos, labyrinths, and any number of other standbys that would be at home in any D&D adventure.

I’ll be keeping my eye out for more early Jack Williamson. I suggest you do the same.

Happy Mother of Dragons Day?

Mother’s Day in Westeros must be a depressing affair. Think about it: do any of the mothers in A Song of Ice and Fire fare well? Let’s see, shall we?

Catelyn Stark. Does the phrase “The Red Wedding” ring any bells? What is she now, some sort of insane zombie? It’s been a while since I read these, so my memory may well be faulty. At least she has some children remaining alive.

How about that Cersei? Not much luck in the keeping your children alive department. I can’t say she was much of a mother to begin with. Love is fine and all, but there is such a thing as parenting.

Raising a brood of dragons can’t be easy. I doubt there’s a manual for that, at least not outside of the library in Oldtown. Still, Daenerys, try to keep you children from eating people.

I wonder what Mother’s Day is like at Craster’s Keep? Not a lot of “From your loving son” cards.

And how about that Lysa? Mother of the year candidate there. I’m sure your son will grow up a productive, well-adjusted citizen.

Yeah. Westeros. Well, there’s always Father’s Day. Oh, wait.

The Too Late Movie Reviews Onslaught Continues

MBW was out of town on business for the last week and a half. And that means my frequenting the RedBox to rent movies you all saw long ago. Now I shall comment upon them.

Aquaman. Underwhelming. The submarine kingdoms were pretty. Jason Momoa makes for an affable lead, a sort of bearded Dwayne Johnson. The story itself was nonsense. Few of the other characters made much of an impact, there to pick up a paycheck. Though it was nice to see Dolph Lundgren and it seemed like his King Nereus was a bit of a wasted opportunity, both with respect to the plot and character development.

The Predator. I went in armored with low expectations. The film started enjoyably enough, but soon I found something off in the tone and character motivations. Then it hit me: this was a comedy. The only thing missing was Bruce Campbell. Once I’d had that genre epiphany everything fell into place and I settled back to enjoy the flick. Have a couple of beers, turn your brain off, and you’ll have a decent 90 minutes of entertainment. Otherwise, watch at your peril.

The best film of this batch was the only animated flick, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. This one I can recommend unreservedly. It was genuinely entertaining, funny, clever, and with something to say about second chances.

Sicario: Day of the Soldado is a perfectly serviceable action flick. It maintains a somber and dour tone throughout its running time. Jeffrey Donovan — Michael Weston from Burn Notice — provides the only real touch of humor. The movie works for what it is. That it is largely forgettable doesn’t mean it doesn’t occupy your attention while it is on.

Bad Times at the El Royale is an ambitious film. Its debt to Quentin Tarantino is apparent, but it is no slavish imitation. The acting is all top notch. For whom should you root? Who is doing what and for what motivation? Why are they all at this hotel? Even the more admirable characters fit somewhere in the gray zone of the morality spectrum. The film carries its mysteries well, keeping the viewers guessing. Ultimately I don’t think it entirely succeeds, but I’m willing to give it a pass because it is so ambitious, it does try for novelty, misdirection, and unexpected revelations. If you let this one slip by, you might want to give it a chance. I think it is worth your time.