Ken Lizzi's Blog, page 74

Under Construction

It is a commonplace observation that writing and construction are analogous. I’ve made the comparison myself a time or two. Yesterday I had reason to consider it again. I’m having a house built. It’s in a nice subdivision of a far Portland suburb, right across the street from a park. Ideal for the Heir Apparent to grow up in.

The representative of the building company asked if we would like to see the work in progress. So I, along with My Beautiful wife and the HA, drove out to see the place. My, it has come along. The workers were busy on the roof when we arrived. It was probably in the low nineties, so I hope the roofers stayed hydrated.

But they are making progress. The shell is complete. Even the windows are in temporary positions. There’s quite a bit left to do, but you can get an idea what the finished product will look like.

That brings me to my work in progress. I’m actually much further along in the process. In fact, I’m well beyond the shell and temporary windows. I’d say I’m more at the rearranging furniture and re-considering wall color stage. I hope to have the latest draft off to beta-readers tomorrow, in fact.

I’m going to think of it as a race. Who will finish first? Either way, I win.

Checking Crater Lake off the List

I suppose most of us have lists. Or, if not lists, the occasional thought that “I really ought to [insert specific] sometime.” For me it is the latter. I don’t actually make lists, bucket or otherwise. But one thing that has cropped up in my mind every once in awhile over the last few decades is that I should visit Crater Lake. After all, I’ve lived almost my entire life in the Pacific Northwest. What excuse do I have?

This weekend I finally scratched that itch. I drove My Beautiful Wife and the Heir Apparent (I kind of like that, I might stick with the “Heir Apparent”) from Portland to Roseburg on Saturday. We enjoyed a terrific little brewpub for beer (I was partial to both the Imperial IPA and a seasonal IPA with an excellent balance) and pizza (wood-fired brick oven pizza with a nice char, the Meat Lovers actually had a layer of salami below the cheese.) Backside Brewing was almost worth the drive by itself.

 

Today we drove to Crater Lake. First we made a pit stop at Diamond Lake, braving a velcro-like maelstrom of flies at the lakeshore. Then, on to Crater Lake. Joining, apparently, half of California. But no whining. The trip was worth every mile, every delay. (The effrontery of other people, actually wanting to visit a popular attraction the same day I do. Don’t they know who I am?)

We made it back to Roseburg in time to drive another five miles down I-5 to visit a drive-through wildlife safari. That was surprisingly enjoyable. Lions and tigers and bears. You know the rest. The Heir Apparent ate it up. She’s taken with bears. (“Osos” is one of her most frequently used bits of Spanish vocabulary.)

http://www.kenlizzi.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/20160529_1612031.mp4

Much time in the car (hit 100,000 miles on the odometer at the Crater Lake Park entry.) Looking at about three more hours for the drive home tomorrow. That’s fine. I’m tossing word salads in my head. How much of that work will ever end up on paper remains to be seen. But it is never time ill-spent.

Michael Moorcock, Appendix N’s Prince of Angst

It is only fair that I begin my web log post on Michael Moorcock with the positives of my assessment. He deserves recognition for is contribution to the field and I’m the last man to withhold his just due. Moorcock’s Law/Chaos dichotomy, along with Poul Anderson’s, was a seminal contribution to the alignment system of Dungeons and Dragons. Elric sits among the pantheon of notable fantasy characters. And while Moorcock did not invent the cursed sword, Stormbringer has become the epitome of the trope. In fact Dungeons and Dragons pays homage to it with the inclusion of the sword Black Razor in the funhouse adventure White Plume Mountain.

So Michael Moorcock’s deserved position in Appendix N remains undimmed, whatever I might think. And I do have an opinion. For whatever that’s worth.

I first read Elric as a teen. That is the ideal time to read Elric. I wasn’t a particularly angsty, brooding teen. But even the well-adjusted adolescents, like myself, unconsciously get the appeal of the melodramatically exploits of fantasy’s most plaintive anti-hero. (Lestat, perhaps, ranks a distant second to the tragic Prince of Melniboné.) I dipped into the stories a few times over the years. But when I re-read the Elric story cycle a few years ago, it simply didn’t hold up.

Corum was my first introduction to Michael Moorcock. I picked up The Chronicles of Corum, with that gorgeous cover art, and was captivated by the wonder, mystery, and myth of it. That it was a collection of sequels to books I hadn’t read might have something to do with that. But even now I retain some affection for that book.

It was Jerry Cornelius that began my dissatisfaction with Moorcock. I believe I read that while still in college, or immediately after graduations. That 1960’s era experimental fiction did nothing for me then and still doesn’t. The Warlord of the Air appeared more promising. The cover art and the premise seemed tailored to my interests. Sadly, the execution left me cold. The heavy-handed politics turned me off.

Still, I retained the positive memories of Elric and Corum and I wanted more. I read copious quantities of the Eternal Champion stories, those 175-200 word novels featuring Elric’s cosmic twins. Sometimes, in the right frame of mind, one of these would scratch a swords-and-sorcery itch. But mostly I found them formulaic and not particularly well written. Moorcock acknowledged the formulaic nature of the work, providing the formula himself. Perhaps I’m asking too much from swords-and-sorcery yarns. But I don’t think so. I think I simply want a better formula. Other writers have served it up, even other writers who have not attained Michael Moorcock’s lofty (and deserved, I freely admit) standing in the pantheon of Appendix N.

If you are a teen, seek out Elric. If you retain your teenage appreciation for Elric, et al, I am sincerely happy for you. I mean that with all honesty and without a hint of condescension. My opinion is just that, and I don’t claim it as objective truth vouchsafed me from on high. But for me, sadly, reading Michael Moorcock has become a chore. As I have enough chores I’m obligated to do, wading through yet another by-the-numbers adventure of one of the Eternal Champion’s avatars is a chore I am willing to dispense with.

Views on Reviews

I’m considering reviews today, from the perspective of both a reader and a writer. What value is there in a review?

On-line we find two prominent sources of reviews: Goodreads and Amazon. There are a plethora of other sources on the web for reviews, but the two aforementioned are the big dogs, the Siskel and Ebert, the Statler and Waldorf. Is there any value to us as readers in these reviews? I don’t recall being swayed by a review on either site to either purchase or bypass a book. What about you? Does either site influence your decision making?

Goodreads seems primarily a collator of numerical evaluations, readers moved enough to provide a rating on a scale of one to five, but not sufficiently motivated to describe their reactions. There is the virtue of simplicity in that. A large enough aggregate can provide a snapshot of the general reaction to a book. But as a reader that fails to move my needle one way or the other. And as a writer, I question whether Goodreads reviews drive book purchases. Have any of you seen the average review numbers for one of my books and said to yourself “The reaction to this is overall favorable. Based on this trend I will download a copy of this book to my Kindle.”

Amazon strikes me as similar to Goodreads. But since it requires some sort of written response in addition to the facile assignment of a number, any given book will have fewer reviews than on Goodreads. As a reader, in theory a collection of arguments pro and con should help guide me. But I don’t think that in practice I’ve ever read a book because of Amazon reviews. As a writer, Amazon reviews can provide a positive influence on sales. Not because the reviews influence readers, but because the reviews influence Amazon. Once a threshold of positive reviews is reached, the Amazon algorithms decide that customers are really purchasing this, triggering a ramping up of advertising. So, yay Amazon reviews, I guess.

The reviews that have convinced me to pick up a book come from independent sites, sites that aren’t primarily review sites, or that cover more territory than simply book reviews. Blackgate, for example. Or a personal web log, written by someone whose taste in literature appears to largely overlap with mne.

Is mine a common experience? Or am I an outlier on this?

Leavenworth

A bit of travel talk in the web log today, maybe a note or two on beer. I’ve brought the family to Leavenworth, Washington this weekend to attend a wedding. This is my first visit to Leavenworth, a place worthy of comment. Accordingly, I will comment.

Leavenworth is a faux-Bavarian tourist town about midway between Seattle and Spokane, nestled along a river, below alpine peaks and above a stretch of pear and apple orchards. The locals have done an excellent job fabricating that idyllic Bavarian mountain-village look. No question about it. My snapshot description of Leavenworth, after a couple of days in town, is white-trash Aspen.

I considered not writing that. But that is the phrase that kept recurring in my mind. And if I can’t offer up the occasional helping of honesty in my own web log, where can I. I hope I haven’t offended anyone, locals or frequent visitors who love the place. That isn’t my intent. I actually mean the phrase with the broadest of all interpretations, including the most positive connotations. There is a populist, egalitarian atmosphere produced by the tattooed and tank-topped tourists, passing by the bric-a-brac shops, with their Alpine village facades, lining picturesque main drag. Every fourth tourist has a leashed dog trotting along beside him. A few Japanese tourists, cell-phone cameras at the ready, mingle easily. Everyone seems in a good mood, having a good time.

There is a ubiquitous tourist trap feel to the shops. Restaurants with German names serve food that doesn’t even bother trying fit thematically, a sausage plate or a Reuben sandwich (which does, after all, contain sauerkraut) the barest of nods to Germanic cuisine.

But it is what it is. The mountainous backdrop is gorgeous. Some of the shops are imaginatively stocked. One doesn’t feel that each store is interchangeable with every other. There’s a bookstore, a comics store, an over-the-top Christmas store. And let’s not forget a couple of brewpubs. I’d suggest there’s market room for one more, though the offerings of Icicle and Dog Haus are decent.

Leavenworth also looks to offer a good jumping off point for outdoor activities. I don’t know first hand. But I did see several kayakers and a couple of whitewater rafts down river near Cashmere (where I searched in vain for a sweater but found only Aplets and Cotlets.)

So come visit for a laid-back weekend in a gorgeous setting. Come as you are; no need to dress for dinner.

Under Strange Suns News and Notes

I have a couple of notes to share with you regarding my last book.

First, I believe I’ve mentioned before that Under Strange Suns is up for an INDIEFAB award. I recently received information that the award process is adding a Readers’ Choice category. I don’t really know what that means or entails, but there is some sort of voting process that runs through May 20.

This is where I’m supposed to encourage you to get out and vote. Okay, get out and vote. There. The email I received had a bit more information, if you’re inclined to follow through on this. Here.

Point your fans to your book’s page on the INDIEFAB finalists website
Encourage them to leave a comment that your book is their #INDIEFABFAVE (note: commenters must login through Facebook or with a Foreword Reviews account)
The book with the most reader endorsements will be named the INDIEFAB Reader’s Choice Winner

Sorry, I know I should be out in front of this, but I’m still not comfortable with marketing and the entire, “Hey, look at me!” aspect of it.

Second note: I recently passed my twentieth year laboring in the law pits for my esteemed employer. In recognition I received a generous gift card and — and this is the relevant point — my employer commissioned an original piece of artwork. Check out the picture. That is a framed, variant cover from the talented pen of Georges Jeanty (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Batman, Serenity, etc.) Sweet, no? Beats a gold pocket watch, if you ask me. (Though I’d take a gold pocket watch too, if it were offered.)

Artwork by Georges Jeanty.

So, people, what do you think? That picture is definitely going on the wall of my den/study/library once the new house is built.

The Web Log is Busy Vomiting

Food poisoning: the all-natural weight loss method. It works for me, it’ll work for you. However, considering how I feel today, I can’t recommend it.

I don’t wish to whine, but perhaps I’m entitled to a trifle of leeway. Attempting to see to the care and well-being of a boisterous two-and-a-half year old while doubled up with stomach cramps and wondering from which end of you the next discharge is coming represents a challenge. There, whining done.

Now, if you’ll excuse me….

The Web Log on the Move

The web log spent the weekend moving to its temporary new headquarters. It also suffered a debilitating automotive malfunction. Such is life. The web log rolls with it.

Note to the Writers of Daredevil Season 2

So far, with some quibbles, I’m enjoying the second season of Daredevil. I do want to note one point to the writers. The character Elektra is shown on more than one occasion bellying up to the bar and asking for “Tequila. Mezcal if you have it.” This in an apparent attempt to show her as sophisticated and worldly, ordering a currently trendy spirit, instead of, say, scotch, or vodka.

The assumption the writer appears to be making is that mezcal is a subcategory of tequila. As if you click the “Tequila” tab and then select from a drop-down menu Blanco; Reposado; Ańejo; or Mezcal. The problem, however, is that Mezcal is NOT a type, category, or variety of tequila. Mezcal is distilled from many varieties of the agave plant. Tequila can only be distilled from blue agave. So if one wishes to nit-pick (which apparently I do) then the writers have it precisely backward: tequila is a subcategory of mezcal, not the other way around.\

If one wishes to order mezcal, one simply orders mezcal. Not tequila. Imagine if Elektra had sat down at the bar and ordered “Scotch. Whisky if you have it.” In essence, that’s what the writers have done.

So, instead of making Elektra appear sophisticated and worldly, they make her appear ignorant, ill-informed about her tipple of choice.

This is an example of an unavoidable problem. No writer is a complete polymath. We all possess gaps in our knowledge base. And we’re not always aware of our ignorance. Thus we’ll write what we assume to be the truth. In many cases our gaps overlap the gaps of the majority of readers/viewers and so the error goes unnoticed by most. But there will always be readers/viewers who are familiar with the specific subject matter with which the writer was not, and for those the suspension of disbelief will be disrupted, temporarily or permanently depending on how egregious the error was.

So it goes.

I Do and I Do and I Do for You People

The Author Hard at Work. For You.

Seriously, readers, the efforts I go to for you. Behold the work environment I’m forced to put up with, typing away on Boss. Imagine the powers of concentration I must summon to stay awake despite the lulling sounds of the waves below and the soporific Pacific coastal sun. I’m like some sort of beneficent saint. I deserve each cold cerveza I put away.

Not buying it, are you? I don’t blame you. But I have hit my word count most days here in beautiful Ixtapa, Mexico, at the glorious hotel Las Brisas. I tell you, even more than the distractions of a tropical vacation paradise it is the erratically shifting sleep “schedule” of a two-year that is inhibiting productivity. I made an effort to get some work done on the plane. I rocked my girl to sleep in my arms, got her snoring gently, lay her down on her mother’s lap, got the computer out of the bag (stowed securely beneath the seat in front of me), powered it up, opened the document, and wrote — I swear — half of a sentence before she woke up. (Another true story: the writing of the preceding sentence was interrupted for twenty minutes to get her back to napping.) My daughter’s nap time would, if plotted out on a chart over the course of a few months, fit within comfortably defined parameters. But on any given day nap time is a moving target. And being in an unfamiliar location, and one full of such enticements as the beach and the elaborate swimming pool complex, getting her to sleep is a daily challenge.

“Quit your bitching, vacation boy,” you say. Fair enough. It is nice down here. I highly recommend Ixtapa and/or Zihuatanejo. My trip is nearing an end and I’m already beginning the mourning process. The process will, I think, involve mas cerveza.

The Author Still at It.

Screw It. Time to Party. Once the Author Gets His Daughter to Sleep, That Is.