Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 66

The Little and the Big

I’ve, at last, worked my way through a couple of massive, minor classics: Little, Big (John Crowley); and Stand on Zanzibar (John Brunner.) “Worked my way through” suggests the process was a chore rather than entertainment. I don’t think that’s entirely accurate, though it might be fair to say that I appreciated both works more than actually enjoyed them.

Little, Big is a remarkable work. In scope and lyrical voice it is an admirable achievement. I’m glad I read it. It elevates the fairy tale to unprecedented literary heights. Stand on Zanzibar is a seminal piece of science-fiction, the acme of population bomb-era alarmism. Its style is experimental, avant-garde, and skillfully executed. I’m glad I read it as well. Much of it is dated, much of the prognostication dead wrong, some of the philosophy — in my opinion — wrong headed. Yet certain keen-eyed observations and intelligent forecasts remain.

I also found both a trifle uneventful and tedious.

While I read these two heavy-weights, I also read The Dragon Masters (Jack Vance), Retief and the Warlords (Keith Laumer), Hrolf Kraki’s Saga (Poul Anderson), and re-read The Moon is a Harsh Mistress (Robert Heinlein) and Lord of Light (Roger Zelazny.) And had a marvelous time doing so.

What do these books have in common that the other two don’t? A couple items. One, brevity. Both Dragon Masters and Retief and the Warlords weigh in at under 200 pages each. Second, action. On a scale of events per page, these four easily top the slower paced works.

This doesn’t make them better books. But it made them better books for me at this moment. It is, I believe, a situational issue. The thing is, my life doesn’t afford me the leisure of uninterrupted blocks of three or four hours straight to sit down and read. What with a full time career, a family, and books of my own to write, I have to read in snatches. I have my lunch book, my putting-the-HA-to-bed book, my workout book, the sitting-on-the-john book, etc. From my experience, a book in which the events are condensed within a low page count work better for a someone who can only spare moments snatched here and there to read. A novel with multiple storylines and dozens characters is more problematic when you can only give it ten minutes or so per day. Too much time is required to recall what is going on, who is doing what to whom, rather than leaping directly back into the narrative.

At least, that’s how I see it.

Checking In

I have a moment to drop you all a brief line. MBW is off on a business trip, charming the State of Texas I’m sure. This means I’m taking care of the HA. Leaving me no sustained time for composition.

Okay, I’m back.

Anyway, I’ll be back next week with my usual line of nonsense. In the meantime…buy my books, leave reviews? Please? Thanks. Got to go.

Christmas? Already?

Well, crap. We’re already into the first week of December. That means Christmas is barreling down on us like an out of control sleigh careening down a ski slope. And I’m not ready yet.

The thing is, I’m usually on top of this. It isn’t uncommon for me to have completed Christmas shopping by the end of August. This year? That’d be a no.

We just finished putting up Christmas lights outside the house. A first for me. I’m truly a suburbanite now. I even bought a ladder. I suppose I should have fallen off of it to achieve the complete stereotypical experience. Sorry, no pratfalls for your amusement on this web log. Maybe next year I’ll get into an insane decorating competition with my neighbor and shenanigans will ensue. Christmas shenanigans.

There remains much to do. I don’t want to wait until the last moment to get the shopping and wrapping done. Mostly because I hate waiting in line at the post office (or anywhere else, for that matter, but mostly the post office.) So next weekend will see the Christmas grind: presents, wrapping, cards, and tree. Ah, yes, the tree. All the fun cursing as I trim those last few branches that prevent me from inserting the trunk into the tree stand. Then grappling with the tree and tree stand itself, maybe getting the tree to topple over on top of me a couple of times before I succeed in clamping everything into place.

I need a beer just thinking about it. Well, at least at that point I can turn proceedings over to MBW. Let her (with the non-assistance assistance of the HA) decorate the tree. So long as I remember to keep the stand topped off with water, we’ll be fine. (Why the hell must the cat drink from there instead of sticking with her usual toilet bowl pub crawl?)

How about the rest of you? Are your Christmas, Hanukkah, or Festivus preparations shaping up in a timely fashion?

The Thankful Post

Thanksgiving has come and gone once again. I’m watching a cold, gray Oregon afternoon out the window as I type. The rain provides a persistent, percussive white noise, punctuated by occasional squalls and wind gusts. It’s a bit dismal is what I’m saying. I’m trying to reflect and be thankful here, but Mother Nature has to get a knee in and grind.

Of course I am thankful. MBW and the HA are healthy. The HA celebrated her fourth birthday on Thanksgiving. I mean, there’s a cosmic tell right there. “Be thankful, Ken.” MBW continues to expand her business empire. I’m gainfully employed. Even got a raise a few days ago.

Still, you can’t have the good without the bad. Some virus suckerpunched me Thursday morning. How was your Thanksgiving dinner? I had all of one morsel of turkey. That was about all I could stomach after a morning spent loudly singing the toilet’s praises. Thursday night was miserable. Friday wasn’t much better, though the morning offered me a false sense of improvement. I’m much improved now, but if I’m honest, I haven’t quite shaken this thing. I’d been looking forward to this long weekend, hoping to get a couple of lengthy writing sessions in. Nope.

Yet, I’m thankful. I have three novels out, and one under contract. (Now, I could wish the third one was selling better. I’ll see if I can get a price drop on the digital edition from the publisher. Would that help any of you fence sitters? I’m here to help.) The next novel is coming along, up to chapter seven, I believe. Of course I’d prefer to be up to chapter nine, but it’s hard to write with a witches’ cauldron substituting for your digestive system and a throbbing headache preventing concentration.

Wow, this is just turning into a bitch-fest. I’m supposed to be expressing gratitude here. No one likes a whiner. So, in an effort at salvaging whatever goodwill I have left, let me say that despite the above sour grapes and petulant grousing, I am thankful. Specifically I am thankful for you readers, without whom I might as well be talking to myself. And we all know that Ken guy is an ingrate.

Full Weekend: OryCon AND a Birthday Party

My weekend was eventful. How was yours?

OryCon returned to (almost) its former site for the 39th installment of the convention. The Red Lion on the Columbia River was home to the first several OryCons I attended, beginning back in the late ‘80s. The Red Lion owned two hotels, bracketing I-5 with views of the bridge. The west side hotel hosted those early events. This year the convention returned from many years deep in the heart of Portland to this border hotel, facing across the river into enemy territory: Washington State.

The weekend brought back some old memories. Sadly the days of free beer on tap in the hospitality room are only that: old memories. Still I had a good time. I got some work done on the current novel. I connected with friends. Late lunch, taster trays, and football at BJs added a nice touch.

There are, I think, some bugs to work out. I walked into my first panel on Friday afternoon and was informed by one of the other panelists that I was the moderator. Funny, I don’t remember volunteering for that.

I had a reading scheduled later that day. The door to the designated room held a sign letting me know that readings had been reassigned to another room. That room was in the back of yet another room that hosted active panels. Hardly conducive to traffic. So, that was a bust.

I was the only panelist who showed up for my final panel on Sunday. But we held an informal group discussion. You make do, right?

I rushed back home in time for the HA’s birthday party. My home had been invaded by munchkins. The HA enjoyed herself as only a four-year old can. The soiree was a tremendous success, I supposed, on the pre-school social circuit. MBW deserves the complete credit, as I was busy preening my feathers at OryCon (“Look at me! Buy my books!”)

Now? I’m tired.

Chugging Along Aboard the Publicity Train

I enjoyed a busy weekend selling books. Luck and scheduling set up back-to-back book signings, one Friday night, one Saturday afternoon.

I owe thanks to the Portland Things From Another World store and to Jan’s Paperbacks. Thanks for the table space and the event promotion. And thanks to those who came by and purchased a book.

Friday night was all about Thick As Thieves. On Saturday I offered all three novels. And sold copies of each. It is pleasant to be in the position to offer a variety of reading options. But marketing my stuff remains uncomfortable. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with self promotion.

Yet it must be done. And next weekend is Orycon, next whistle stop on the publicity train. I hope to see some of you there.

Carousing Through the Dismal Season

The leaves are dropping, exposing the bare wooden scaffolding of the trees. The rain is either a constant or an intermittent irritant. Moments of warmth are welcome rarities. Yes, the dismal season is upon us until Spring comes to our relief.

And so, we party. There’s a reason we call it the holiday season. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve in rapid sequence. Why? Because the days are short, gray, and miserable and remind us of our mortality. When faced with thoughts of death what do we do? We gather up our friends and family and we eat and drink, deliberately focusing on the positives. Each beer, each glass of wassail is a middle finger to the skeletal fellow with the black cloak and sickle.

That’s what I did the other night. I had some friends over, ostensibly to celebrate the release of Thick As Thieves, but primarily to have a good time and enjoy companionship on a dreary, rainy day. It was a small gathering. It couldn’t hold a candle to some of the legendary shindigs of speculative fiction.

And, thinking about it, there ought to be more of those, more spectacular parties in fiction. What have got, really? Tolkien, natch, leads the field. Hard to top Bilbo’s 111th birthday. The protagonist of John Myers Myer’s Silverlock enjoys a fine mead-soaked throwdown at Hierot. (Boy, Silverlock is a prime example of a character rollercoasting through ups and downs, isn’t he?) The lords of Demonland in The Worm Ouroboros are on the verge of a hootenanny before events go pear shaped, so that doesn’t count. Garrett, of Glen Cook’s Garrett, P.I. novels enjoys more than his share of partying, but I’m not sure impromptu keggers in Garrett’s kitchen count as true fiestas. I doubt any of the feasts in Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire count, since few, if any, of the attendees are really celebrating anything. It seems that Fafhrd and The Grey Mouser ought to make the cut, but their taproom revelry doesn’t fit either.

So what have we got? What festivals, marriage feasts, coronation parties, or other celebrations am I missing? Probably something Arthurian. It seems like half the adventures of the round table commenced when someone wandered uninvited into a feast. But then, the feast wouldn’t be narratively completed then, would it?

A puzzler. Makes me want to pour a cold one and browse through my library. Ignoring the drizzle and chill beyond my walls.

More Doings

I know I’ve been writing a lot about my book promotion activities. Well, ‘tis the book promotion season. What can I say?

If we can all agree that this is necessary, then allow me to proceed with more.

Orycon 39 has released its schedule. I’ll be there, reading from Thick As Thieves. As you can see (if you wish to follow the link) there is plenty more to do. I believe membership cost will increase soon, so buy yours now.

The week before Orycon kicks off I will be signing books at the Portland Things From Another World store from 5-7. Come out, say hello, then start your Friday night.

It seems I will be in Seattle this coming March. Emerald City Comic Con invited me for the 2018 con. That long weekend should provide a pleasant mini-vacation for MBW and the HA, seeing the Seattle sights while I…do convention type stuff. We’ll see how it goes.

If you’ve purchased Thick As Thieves and enjoyed it, please leave an Amazon and/or Goodreads reviews. And there’s that mailing list sign up, too.

Okay, marketing done. I’m exhausted. And, oddly, a bit nauseated. I need a bath.

J.R.R. Tolkien: Appendix N’s Controversial Entry

Writing about J.R.R. Tolkien is challenging unless one cares nothing for originality. Oceans of ink have been used discussing the man and his work. Merely reiterating what has been written before would prove easy enough.

Therein lies the problem. Originality may be illusory, but I still like to strive for it.

This is an entry in my sporadic Dungeons & Dragons Appendix N series. So writing about the controversy concerning Tolkien’s Appendix N inclusion seems the obvious choice. But it’s been done. I have nothing to add. A summary for the uninitiated: The common conception is that D&D is largely based on The Lord of the Rings. It appears self-evident, right? You’ve got hobbits, elves, dwarves. An adventuring party. The Ranger class. There was even a lawsuit filed by the Tolkien Estate, leading to hobbits becoming halflings, ents becoming treants, the Balrog becoming the Type IV Demon, Balor. But Gary Gygax insisted that Tolkien’s influence was at most cosmetic, that he didn’t even much care for The Lord of the Rings. And there is much to back up his assertion. Again, small lakes of ink have been sacrificed to that very task.

I’ll take Gygax at his word and move on.

Leaving what then to write about? I’d be surprised if anyone reading this web log hasn’t read LOTR and The Hobbit. You don’t need me to review either. Well, when one runs short of material, one writes about oneself. And since the topic is Tolkien, that leads to my writing about my history with the Professor’s tales.

I couldn’t tell you when I first read The Hobbit. Probably at nine or ten years old. I can distinctly recall first laying eyes on The Fellowship of the Ring. I was eleven, browsing at the Gladstone public library. The picture of The Hill with the embedded round doors and winding lane captured me. I still haven’t wriggled free and have no attention of doing so. I remember nearing the end of Fellowship, thinking they are never going to reach Mt. Doom before the end of the book. That was my first inkling (Inkling — see what I did there?) that there was more to the story. I’d had no idea that Fellowship was the first book in a trilogy. (Yes, yes I know LOTR wasn’t written as a trilogy, but for practical purposes it is.)

That was my first reading. I’ve gone through it, I believe fifteen times. In English. Once in Spanish. I believe I’ve read through The Silmarillion thrice. Then there are reference works and commentaries, biographies, an atlas, etc. Yes, I’m a fan. I’ll own up to that without a moment’s hesitation or shame.

I’m not much of a fan of the hordes of LOTR imitators. Tolkien has not influenced my own writing. (I recently, in some sort of fit of masochism, forced myself to read a rather infamous ‘homage.’ I think I can best describe it as a mediocre Tolkien tribute band recording an album of The Lord of the Ring’s Greatest Hits.) Tolkien wrote something monumental and sui generis. While I understand the urge to pay respects through mimicry, to create more of the sort of thing you love, that doesn’t motivate me. I’ll continue to follow my pulp influences and leave epic quests alone.

Coming full circle, I think the fact that D&D works better simulating sword & sorcery exploits — treasure hunts, monster slaying, robbery — rather than epic quests is a point in Gygax’s defense. Though, of course, I might have just described The Hobbit…

Discuss?

Upcoming Appearances

A new book out means another opportunity to press the flesh, meet and greet, and…other rhyming euphemisms for marketing. Where, you ask, can you partake in such activities? Not every event is locked down yet, but currently I am scheduled for the following:

I will be signing copies of “Thick As Thieves” at Jan’s Paperbacks on Saturday, November 11. I believe that kicks off at 11 AM and runs until 2 PM. So, yes, that is 11 o’clock on 11/11. If only I could have managed this six years ago.

I will be at Orycon the 17th-19th of November. I’ll be around all weekend, but if you’re interested in getting a taste of “Thick As Thieves” I have a reading on Friday at 5:30. What do you think, should I begin reading Chapter 1 or pick a chapter somewhere in the middle?

There is more to come. This book won’t flog itself. But the above is what is currently on my plate. I hope to see you at one of these events (or more — hell, why not?) And if you can’t wait for a signed, why the book is available to purchase in print or digital right now.