Stephen Weinstock's Blog, page 6

Best of 2014 Qaraqbooks posts

If you’re just now following Qaraq Books, or have been a loyal fan and want to look back at a ‘novel’ year, here’s what I consider the best posts of 2014 (just click on the post title). If you’d like notifications of 2015 posts, plus book news, free stories, and promotions, please subscribe to my email service: 1001/Qaraqbooks News.

January

Why 1001?

The initial explanation of what my series is all about.  1001 = Infinity.

August

Scheherazade Meets the Karate Kid

My first guest post, about how my life as a musical theater composer influenced a novel about remembering past lives.

Science Made Me Do It

Ditto, about how science influences my novels: my parents met working on The Manhattan Project in Los Alamos!

September

Fashion Week Flash Fiction

Walking to work by Lincoln Center in NYC every morning, I was prompted to offer this free story during Fashion Week: how Neanderthals invented Fashion!

Reframing Literary Genres

With all the re-thinking and rebelling against cut-and-dry book genres these days, this guest blog invites independent authors to invent themselves through a self-designed sub-genre.  Karma Lit, anyone?

October

25 New Beatle Albums

Inspired by Andrew Grant Jackson’s work on the solo Beatle recordings, I teach the class how to devise a new (post-) Beatle album to rival Sgt. Pepper.

November

7 Cool Quotes about Earth’s Reincarnations

Musings on a myriad of new fossil discoveries this year.

Hidden Forms that Tell a Story

Guest post on Roz Morris’ wonderful blog where writers discuss how music influences their writing.  An unveiling of hidden structures in 1001.

December

How Islam Rejected then Embraced Fiction

Having cycled through fave topics of history, music, books, science, reincarnation, and the writing process, the year ends with my first guest post about Arabic fiction and The Thousand and One Nights.  Hosted by my amazing friends at the Visionary Fiction Alliance.

Please search the archives for more, and enjoy the holiday of rebirth:

Happy New Year!

 

And don’t forget to subscribe to 1001/Qaraqbooks News.

 

 

How Islam Rejected and then Embraced Fiction

I’m proud to have the opportunity to post an article for the Visionary Fiction Alliance. To read the full posts, here is Part One and Part Two. Incredibly, Arabic fiction was outlawed at the start of Islam, but as the Empire grew, the courts slowly accepted works like The Thousand an One Nights. I outline this fascinating historic process, and how it compares with the advent of the new genre Visionary Fiction.

Here’s a sample (Reblogged at Saleena Karim’s blog):

“In researching Book Three of my series 1001: The Reincarnation Chronicles, I read a great deal about the history of Arabic Literature. I am no Arabic scholar, but I had to learn about medieval Persian and Arabic culture. My characters, in their past lives in 10thcentury Baghdad, collaborate on a special version of The Thousand and One Nights, which is multi-cultural, subversive, and highly symbolic. I became enthralled by the development of fiction in the early Islamic world, and how difficult it was for a story collection like the Nights to gain acceptance.

When I learned about the gradual acceptance of Visionary Fiction in literary culture, I thought there were some interesting parallels with Arabic fiction. The phrase uphill battle comes to mind. But also, Visionary and Arabic Fiction each have strong ties to spirituality and religion, which both promote and hinder their acceptance. But let’s travel back in time to see more detailed parallels.”

To time travel, click on the links above.  And if you’re interested in being notified about new posts, subscribe to 1001/Qaraqbooks News here.

 

6 Easy Pieces: How I Nailed My Kickstarter Campaign

One year ago I successfully completed a Kickstarter campaign, enabling me to publish my novel 1001: The Qaraq, Book One of The Reincarnation Chronicles. At this time, I am celebrating my supporters and all those who have showed interest in my writing by offering free ebooks and discounted paperbacks. I am also looking back on how I went from a decade of writing in relative solitude to having a book out in the world and followers from Athens to Australia.

Obviously, the new print-on-demand, crowdfunding, and social media technologies catalyzed my choice to get myself out in the virtual world. Kickstarter was exceptionally easy to handle, and if anyone’s thinking of doing a crowdfunding campaign, there are only a few concepts to consider:

1) Use the scaffolding and advice of the company you’re working with, including its help center. If I had a question, an email would be answered the next day.  Kickstarter is mostly about having a product (they love quirky, inventive things, but books are just fine), and writing text about it. The hardest thing for me was making the recommended video, but I took the lead from lots of people and did a purposefully homemade, funky little film. If you’re project involves technology or media, you probably want a higher end video to show your skills.

2) Have fun with your rewards. The only reason I gained courage and chutzpah to do a crowdfunding campaign was because of the rewards concept. The thought that I could give something to my friends and not just grovel for their cash was mildly comforting. Once I realized that I could be creative and meaningful with the rewards, and essentially offer pieces of my project to potential fans, I was hooked. I loved dreaming up names and special items for various levels of contribution

3) Don’t count on the community of people looking at the company’s website to be your donors. You have to reach out to your own community; I imagine this is true even for a celebrity, like Spike Lee, who’s crowdfunded for a project. I discovered that the most effective way of reaching out is through friends, family, and colleagues in my email address book. Since then, I’ve read in countless self-marketing articles about the power of email. Hardly anyone contributed via my Facebook page or website. So I re-invented the wheel doing my Kickstarter campaign, but it worked.

4) Kickstarter’s advice about having a limited time period to run your campaign is golden. 30 days felt ideal: it’s long enough to build momentum and encourage procrastinating friends; it’s short enough to create the pressure of a ‘limited time offer’ situation, and to preserve your sanity. The way I worked was to send out an email blast the first week, see who signed up, send out a new version of the email to the remaining group the second week, and so on. The last week I sent an extra email at the eleventh hour to those I still had high hopes would support me. Every time I sent new emails I got new supporters, so I also created sub-groups of emails and staggered them throughout the week. Ultimately, I learned to think of marketing in short campaigns, rather than constant, endless barrages. Healthier for everyone.

5) Use the company’s stats to tweak your email campaign. I noticed after a week that people tended to respond Sunday nights, and midweek nights. So I tended to send out the next emails at those times. This may not be true for you, but there’ll be patterns emerging from the stats. I did similar adjustments concerning my reward offerings (like lowering prices), and which group emails seem more effective (I had variations on my emails for sub-groups, like friends and colleagues related to music). And of course you can analyze patterns in hindsight for future use.

6) Finally, be realistic with your financial goal. With Kickstarter you lose everything if you miss your goal, but other companies let you keep what you raised. Even though the latter feels safer, I liked the pressure the enforced goal set up. Kickstarter prepares you for the fact that most campaigns start hot, die down, and then warm up again near the deadline. That helped me navigate my expectations. However, I was extremely fortunate that the outpouring of support in that early period enabled me to meet my (modest) goal very quickly. Then the trick was crafting new emails to celebrate the support, but clarify what more funding could provide for the project. The love kept coming, thankfully.

The most important benefit I received from this new crowdfunding tool was that it encouraged me to be a business person as well as an artist. After a decade of basically writing for myself, I was able to move into the world with my work. In the year since, I published The Qaraq, connected with a coach to learn how to use guest-blogging, and launched this week’s 12/13/14 sales event, and set up an email subscription, 1001/Qaraqbooks News. Now I just have to write the next ten books in the series!

7 Musings on Interstellar

As I watched Interstellar the other night I felt I was seeing a truly classic sci-fi film, an heir to 2001 A Space Odyssey.  Having slept it off, in my pre-dawn mind I have various thoughts assessing the movie.

1)  The movie has one of the best first acts I have ever felt in a sci-fi film.  I was not looking forward to seeing Matthew McConaughey as a farmer while waiting for the space stuff to kick in.  But besides setting up a ton of stuff that has beautiful pay-offs later, the father-daughter departure scene is the emotional high of the whole film.  In fact, I like that I wasn’t moved later in the film when this heart-wrenching moment is resolved, the way I would have been in the Hollywood formula.  The resolution felt more serene, consciousness-raising, and lofty.

2)  Hanz Zimmer outdid himself with the film score, by underdoing.  I mention this next because it relates to that great first act.  Hans Zimmer is wonderful, and transforms his soundtrack voice for each drama.  But he’s been getting more and more over the top.  I’m thinking of the cimbalom-crazy Sherlock Holmes scores, and the bombastic trombone fest he did for Christopher Nolan’s other epic fantasy, Inception.  I knew of Zimmer before his film work, in the 80s when he was doing New Age meditation music in Germany.  He’s gone back to those roots in Interstellar: you barely can hear the music at the top of the movie, and for a good hour it’s all vertical, no big melodies, practically all chords and washes.  So in the father-daughter departure scene, when he first introduces some good old Wagnerian chromaticism in the harmonic progression, it is emotionally devastating.  There is a melodic theme that emerges by the time we’re in deep space, but it’s as subtle and ghostly as the poltergeisty elements of the story.

3)  The screenplay is both highly underrated and more full of holes than a chunk of Jarlsberg.  I was surprised by how great/important/compelling the story line was, probably because previews and reviews were big on not spoiling much.  So I had the expectation that the film was more atmospheric than story-driven.  Not true!  Put it this way: when we’re going through the black hole (3rd act, as opposed to the wormhole, 2nd act – let’s keep our science straight), I felt the Nolan brothers were trying to re-create the 2001 trippy climax, but make it coherent plot-wise, instead of just psychedelic zooniness.  They succeed brilliantly, though I’d have to read the companion science manual to the movie to understand how anyone, man or robot, can survive entering a black hole.  I thought you got obliterated in there.  I’ve had panic attacks thinking about this.

That accomplishment, merging science and story and visual splendor, along with the father-daughter, disciple-sage, and displaced love elements in the story, make the screenplay constantly compelling.  But after my wife and I emerged from the theater spellbound, we spent the ride home coming up with a dozen head-scratching questions about unanswered issues, logic flaws, and suspension of disbelief stretches.  I suspended my disbelief without even realizing it several times, so the film worked in a gripping way.  But I went from cheering the Nolans as screenwriters to worrying a bit about this breaking news: Jonathan Nolan is pegged to write the script for a TV adaptation the Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy.

4)  What the hell is Matt Damon doing in this movie?  When Matt and Matthew start wrestling on the Icelandic rocks, I checked out for a moment.  Yes, this episode triggers the final actions of the plot, but I’d love to see a version of Interstellar with this lonely-celebrity-driven-to-evil episode expunged.  At the very least, it cheapens the dark revelation from Michael Caine’s dying character by threatening to make all humanity look deceitful and cowardly.

5)  Is Interstellar the cinematic equivalent of the genre vs. literary fiction debate?  I won’t touch the science in the film (if you’re interested see the Asimov link above), but was constantly aware while watching that the film was celebrating and transcending science fiction at the same time.  There’s a lot of talk about stretching genres in the book world these days, the main one being whether high-end genre fiction, like sci-fi/fantasy, can be considered literary fiction employing genre conventions, or whether the blurred lines make genre thinking obsolete.  I feel this movie raises similar questions, again the way Kubrick did with 2001, the first non-B movie sci-fi film.  Also, Interstellar is a cinematic example of a new book genre, climate change fiction, or cli-fi.

6)  What a delicious cast!  Besides all the big guns, there were many sweet delights: Mackenzie Foy as the young Murph (so young, so intense), Ellen Burstyn as old Murph, and Timmy Chalamet as young Tom, dear gifted LaGuardia HS alum.  But where did Topher Grace’s character come from?  OK, Nolan brothers, play down the Hollywood love interests, but how about one sentence of back story about him?  After all, I assume Topher sires dozens of Earthlings, which is kind of important to the plot.

7)  One final musing, or question: what happened in the ending, Plan A or Plan B, or both?  I know Matthew M’s character goes off to hook up with his non-girlfriend on a space colony (Plan B), but what happened on Earth?  Is it toast?  Did everyone move to a space station?  Can I have a little more info, please?  But hey, if any Interstellar fans out there want to school me on any of my confusions, leave a comment!

Anyway, I didn’t really need to know everything, for I still got a satisfying conclusion to a wonderful filmic, sci-fi, transcendent experience.  But it woulda been nice.  Maybe in the re-make.  Without Matt Damon.

 

Hidden Forms That Tell a Story

There are eleven hidden structures in 1001: The Reincarnation Chronicles.  What does that mean?  What do they have to do with music?  And mostly, why?  For example, in the past life tale in each chapter there is a hidden reference to one of the Thousand and One Nights.

For an overture into how hidden forms in music inspired me to this insanity, read my post in Roz Morris’ wonderful The Undercover Soundtrack.  Each week a writer talks about how music influences their writing, and provides a playlist of musical sources.  Mine includes Stravinsky, Sondheim, Berg, and Zappa.

Check it out, leave a comment, share it with others.  Thanks!

7 Cool Quotes About Earth’s Reincarnations

I want to share a fascinating NY Times article about an avalanche of new fossil findings on the planet.  I’m writing a section of 1001 where the characters recall their past lives feuding as prokaryotes, dwelling in urban algal colonies, and towering over the first puny amphibians — as old trees.  Paleontologist Michael Novacek raises the kind of issues I love to deal with in the anthropomorphized evolution tales of The Reincarnation Chronicles.  Here are 7 cool quotes from the article:

1) “Recently discovered 385-million-year-old fish fossils preserved with flexible limbs explicitly document the transition from life in the water to life on land.”

I beg to differ!  Yes, it’s sweet to know how fish crawled up on land, but the transition from life in the water to life on land was pioneered by algae and plants, not Gumby fish.

2) “From our study of living species, we could not have been predicted the existence of dragonflies as big as sea gulls or dinosaurs with the bulk of large whales that could support themselves on land.”

You can see one of those dragonflies as big as sea gulls on the cover of The Qaraq.

3) “Diverse fossils of animals and plants show that some 100 million years ago, Antarctica was a greenhouse, with lush forests bathed in warmth.”

Antarctica incarnates several times in 1001.  It moves around the globe as part of bigger supercontinents, settles down south while still warm and lush, and doesn’t freeze up until after a chunk of it floats up north to become Atlantis.

4) “[S]auropods hung on for about 150 million years. That’s no failed evolutionary experiment.”

When we think of the extinction of the dinosaurs, we forget how long they survived.  Will we fare any better?

5) “[M]ass extinction events were so devastating that it took hundreds of thousands, even millions, of years for the few species that survived to once again diversify and flourish and for ecosystems to recover.”

I’m revising a set of stories set in the Cambrian Explosion, another fairly recent discovery.  There have been a number of planetary cycles of mass extinction, slow recovery, and then explosion of new species.  The characters grapple with which way to evolve with so many species and survival mechanisms.

6) “Just 50,000 years ago — a blink of an eye in the deep time of paleontology — there were at least three, and maybe four, species of the human lineages cohabiting on this planet. Yet within that span of time, only our own species made it through the evolutionary sieve.”

Who knows what happened, even in this ‘small’ a time scale.  Aliens could have colonized, corrupted, and departed from Earth in any millennia stuck in our vast evolutionary history.

7) “Thanks to the fossil record, incomplete though it is, we can estimate that more than 99 percent of all species that ever lived are extinct … [O]ur recognition that extinction is … an integral part of the evolution of life [is] at this moment in human history, a far from academic concern…”

A gargantuan version of Death being part of Life.  To think we can read such truths into some dusty old bones. But all in a day’s work for a paleontologist!

 

Bibliotherapy from the VFA

Recently the Visionary Fiction Alliance posted the last of a series of articles inspired by bibliotherapy.  The idea that reading and writing visionary books is therapeutic and mind-expanding is a rich concept to explore.  A number of us in the Alliance contributed ideas, and it makes for a heady, refreshing, and fascinating read.  This last article in the series is about how readers/writers apply the insights they gain from books to their own lives.  I discuss how Calvino’s Cosmicomics changed my life.  Check it out!

Halloween Tale: Aapep, Demon of Darkness and Chaos

A Pyramid thief plunders more than he wanted: family ghosts, a demonic snake, and a floating talisman.  This fearful tale, from Book 3 of the 1001 series, is my treat for Halloween.

The Tale of the Festival for the Welcoming of Aapep

            The Twelfth Dynasty had restored Egypt’s wealth and power in the world. The heirs of the two Sensuret Pharaohs did more than consolidate their hold on immediate neighbors. Egypt was trading with China! The treasures in the royal coffers were amazing, but off limits to any thief, no matter his expertise. Thank Khnum that to revive the ailing economy decades ago, the Dynasty had allowed middle class Pyramid tombs. Security was not as elaborate. I had a way in.

At that time of year the great Festival for the Banishing of Aapep was in full swing. Aapep was the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, opponent of Ma’at, who brings light and order. The priests constructed an effigy of Aapep, which was burned to protect us for another year. Of course, much more went on to honor Khnum, the local deity for the town of Elephantine: dancing, singing, imbibing of sacramental spirits, and general free license, men having their way with women, slaves with masters, and thieves with loot. My gang called it the Welcoming of Aapep.

I waited until the brilliant blue of the sky, the reflection of the mighty Nile, started toward pink and orange. The giant effigy was receiving final prayers and songs. Looking back one more time, the ghastly face of Aapep burned into my mind’s eye. As I slipped out of town and neared the Pyramid, I saw every worker head toward the effigy. No one missed the final night; once the pyre started, any behavior was acceptable; to embrace evil was to banish evil for another year. Dozens of cleaners, guides, and, finally, guards left the Pyramids. I arrived at the south gate, found the secret way in my gang had discovered, and snuck inside. My stomach tightened.

Getting inside a Pyramid was easy, getting into one of the tombs was the trick. The Kharman family burial suite was no exception: a maze of hallways to navigate and then three locked gates. The gang had paid off an acolyte for a map, the secret to open the first gate, and a couple extra tips. Even with his life threatened, the pawn did not give up everything, but promised that a clever man could figure out the rest. I volunteered for the job.

The acolyte did not lie: I whisked through the halls, only fear halting me. With all the stories and songs promoted by the new government, I imagined what Gods and Demons followed me down the halls. I rushed through the first gate and, sure enough, pushed a combination of stones in the wall and the second gate popped open. The third gate was another matter. Outside the Kharman tomb stood a massive statue: an elephant with a mighty horse atop it, and a monstrous snake riding the horse. There were jewels enough right there, but I knew who the snake was: Aapep, the Demon itself, who froze its victims with a magical gaze. I avoided the snake’s eyes, but after a terrifying eternity, knew in my gut that the gate switch must be on the snake’s face. Who would want to look there? I yanked quickly at the jewels in the eyes, the head, the fangs. A loud click and I was in!

The chamber resembled living space in the Kharman household, so the immortal souls could rest out eternity in comfort. That meant ghosts were all around me! Decaying scrolls had words to comfort their souls: “Your Ba shall pass safely into the Duat.” Chilled, I saw insects swarming in every corner. Fool! They were only bejeweled scarab beetles, representing immortality, which adorn every tomb. At the Festival, priests recite a manual for vanquishing the Demon, and perform symbolic actions: spitting upon Aapep, defiling him with the left foot, or dismembering him. I imagined Aapep ripping me up as payment for these threats.

I sat down on a facsimile of a favorite Kharman bench. I had to pull myself together. I’d suffer equally frightening consequences from the gang if I failed. I did a sober perusal of objects for the taking. There were jewels, gold versions of objects such as wheat and hammers, and expensive belts and necklaces. The burning ritual would be soon, and then the guards would return. I got my tools and went to work dislodging gems. As I pried loose the beauties, my hand shook, and I sliced chunks off my other hand. The blood made me think of Aapep being dismembered. I was losing my grip, literally and figuratively!

Renewing my resolve, I gathered loose items and made a pile. In one corner, I noticed an oval object, apparently hovering in mid-air. Nearing it, I felt a peace come over me, my fears abating. I stared at the oval and visions came, this time not fearful ones. I saw a soul settle into human form in Sumer many centuries ago. I saw the man-soul perform a ritual with this same ovoid, which exploded and shattered apart. I marveled to envision the oval object reappear in several Pyramids, appear to a drunken Kharman ancestor, and remain in this shadowy corner of calm.

Enthralled, I touched the miraculous talisman. More than any terror I felt in the tomb, emotions engulfed me, and I tapped the destructive energy inside the object. The object broke into seven pieces, pitching me across the chamber. I felt the greatest shame at my violation (and as a lowlfe, I don’t do remorse); my previous anxieties magnified a hundredfold. I had to get out of the tomb!

I threw as much treasure as I could into my bag. As I did, my hand found the shell fragment of the oval. I flinched, but then, out of some perverse instinct, I stuffed it into my pocket and raced around for the other parts. I found a set of metal bars woven together by thin fibrous cording. What else had the shattering loosed? Undone, I bolted from the tomb.

Outside I froze before the giant elephant statue, lest the snake lunge at me. About to place the string of bars inside the bag, I tapped each metal slat and heard a distinct ringing tone from each. A pleasant respite from my qualms, I repeated the sequence. The sound cleared my head and gave me courage. I could not remain a minute longer, but the paltry amount of loot would cost me my life. I had to escape to another land, away from the gang. I wished to project my soul to a safe place, the way priests claim the deceased soul can. With the tones ringing in my head, I reached into my pocket and clutched the oval shell.

I faced the statue. At that moment the priests set Aapep on fire, and smoke and flames from the pyre released magic into the libidinous festival grounds, the township of Elephantine, and the nearby Pyramids. I felt the magic as I gazed into the snake’s eyes. I banished Aapep from my soul. I glanced down at the charging horse and willed it to whisk me away. Finally, I looked lovingly at the elephant, placing my soul in its care. Gripping the oval tighter, I cast the bars at the elephant, and felt the chiming chord vibrate through me.

A flash of light and I was gone. Did my soul flee to China, in my mind the farthest place from the gang? Or to the North, across the great sea at the Nile Delta, the surest escape route? No, my Ba stayed right there, entered the great statue, then projected onto the tomb floor in a smaller form, which the guards found the next morning: a blue statuette of an elephant. I was no longer human, I could not move, but I had banished all fear.

 

25 New Beatle Albums! 1970-2013

Two years ago I became obsessed with The Beatles’ solo albums. My theory: in any given post-Beatle year, if you take the best songs from each of their four solo albums, you could compile a record to rival Sgt. Pepper.

OK, class, let’s start with this great fantasy album from 1970:

“Side One”

Instant Karma (John)

Junk (Paul)

My Sweet Lord (George)

Beaucoups of Blues (Ringo)

Man We Was Lonely (Paul)

What Is Life? (George)

Cold Turkey (John)

“Side Two”

If Not for You (George/Dylan)

Not Guilty (George)

Working Class Hero (John)

Maybe I’m Amazed (Paul)

Mother (John)

All Things Must Pass (George)

Give Peace a Chance (John)

Killer album, right?!  Jazzed, I started collecting post-Beatle material from the past 40 years: the very few solo albums I had purchased (mostly from the 70s), used copies from libraries and Turn It Up! CD stores in Western Mass, and then massive downloads of songs I had never heard.  I wondered if most boomers like me had stopped following the individual Beatle careers, and might delight in the wealth of musical treasures we had missed.

Then I discovered there was a whole cult of specialized followers, who spend their days dreaming up fantasy Beatle albums (as if The Beatles never disbanded), made of the best and/or most interesting songs culled from the solo records.  There were many websites, and one particularly excellent book de-constructing all this: Still the Greatest, by Andrew Grant Jackson.  Jackson compiles his own fantasy albums year by year, explains them on several levels, and annotates each song with cool bio and artistic information.  I got the book, used it to give me a tour through the best music from the solo albums, but soon found myself pushing up against the suggested playlists, listening to lots of other songs, and forming my own albums.

My obsession ran its course over many months, ending with 25 new fantasy post-Beatles album playlists.  Along the way, I engaged in a number of issues, some stemming from Jackson’s marvelous book, and some from my own queries:

1) In the 70s, you can start from The Beatles’ 14 song model for an LP as a guide.  Though Beatles songs are mostly Lennon-McCartney, we know many of these songs are all John, all Paul, or some mix in between.  So I thought of the 14 songs broken down by composition: 4-5 John songs, 4-5 Paul tunes, 2-4 George songs, and 1-2 Ringo hits.  Starting with All Things Must Pass, George became a more prolific songwriter, or rather could release songs he hadn’t been able to under John and Paul, so his share of the 14 begins to rival them.

2) My greatest joy was interlacing the four artists’ songs to achieve maximum variety, moving from one compositional voice to another.  I concerned myself especially with segues from the end of a John song into the start of a George song and so forth.  I balanced how many ballads to include, how many pure rockers, how many ‘novelty’ items.  A key decision was what iconic song should begin an album, what breath of fresh air should start Side 2, and if the last song of a side should be a powerhouse or an ethereal apotheosis, like Julia ending Side 2 of the White Album.

3) There were many conundrums about what to include in a particular year.  Jackson includes great lost treasures from British singles or obscure, non-mainstream releases, but I kept away from those.  I even excluded my favorite all-time Beatle solo album, George’s soundtrack from his Wonderwall film, mostly because it was made when The Beatles were still together.  Now that itunes has re-released it along with all the others, I regret this choice.  The other dilemma was if there was too much good material from any given year for a single album, should I imagine a double album, or save some songs for later?  How many years later could I still release an older title?  I figured anything was fair game: if The Beatles put an old rocker like One After 909 on their last album Let It Be, (which was supposed to have come out before Abbey Road), I shouldn’t have to worry.  Why was I worrying anyway?

4) Over the 40+ year period there were several momentous changes that effected decisions about constructing my playlists.  In the 1980s, the CD replaced the LP, allowing for more music and eliminating the two-side structure.  I could expand a playlist from a 14 song model to 16+ songs, but if you can program a CD to play any order, did that mean the album concept was obsolete?  Going back to the Romantic song cycle, the album assumed a certain flow of music, a juxtaposition of contrasts, and possibly a developing concept.  With the advent of digital downloading in the 2000s, all was lost.  I was not ready to give up the structural brilliance that Sgt. Pepper innovated, so I added more songs, but preserved the format in my playlists.  Here’s one from 1990: how many songs do you know?

“Side One”

Got My Mind Set on You (George)

Out On the Streets (Ringo)

Distractions (Paul)

Zig Zag (George)

I’m Losing You (John)

This One (Paul)

When We Was Fab (George)

“Side Two”

My Brave Face (Paul)

Devil’s Radio (George)

We Got Married (Paul)

Margarita (George/Traveling Wilburys)

Ooh Baby (George)

Ou Est Le Soleil (Paul)

Just Because (John)

5) You may think the album is Paul and George heavy, and you’re right.  The most cataclysmic change in these years was John’s death in 1980.  For a few years, I included post-humous material, but what do I do in the 90s and later?  One consequence was that, after imagining an album a year in the 70s, including at least one double album, I only had an album every two years in the 80s, and every three years in the 90s.  I always found a way to represent John on an album, but George’s wonderful output essentially replaced John’s offerings.  After George died, I had the same dilemma, but a curious thing happened. Ringo, who hit bottom in the 80s and produced much less, bounced back in the new millennium to put out great albums, with lots of his own rock solid tunes.  By 2005, Ringo’s songs outdid the combined post-humous catalogs of John and George, and I was back to creating a playlist every other year.

6) Through all the changes, the Most Consistent Beatle was Paul, releasing an album a year since Wings in the 70s, and supplementing this catalog with live albums, orchestral compositions, and a delicious side career in electronica.  My biggest challenge was preserving his ratio of compositions from Beatle days, but I succumbed to making every other song from Paul.  Given his range of styles, this was not so terrible.  So later Beatle fantasy albums contain songs from The Firemen, Paul’s electronica band, or The Traveling Wilburys, George’s fun trip with Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, and Bob Dylan.

7) One final issue I’ll mention is creating concept albums.  Most of my fantasy playlists are about a good flow of diverse, enjoyable tunes.  But if a concept presented itself, I didn’t resist.  For 2002, I fashioned a tribute album after George’s passing that included his So Sad, John’s Borrowed Time, and Ringo’s sweet eulogy, Never Without You.  Harking back to an old Beatle motif, 2013’s Side 1 contained songs with Sun or Rain as lyric concepts, such as The Firemen’s Sun is Shining, George’s Stuck Inside a Cloud and Rising Sun, and Paul’s Too Much Rain, See Your Sunshine, and his rainy day ballad, My Valentine.  I also concocted concepts around Peace and Love songs, reflective songs on Liverpool and The Beatles growth, and a spiritual album that doesn’t all depend on George.

I had a great time doing all this, but now, two years after my obsession burned out, The Beatles’ estates and itunes are running a campaign for the solo albums. Keep up, lads! I predict they’ll be a campaign within a decade re-packaging the solo albums as fantasy post-Beatle records.  In the meantime, you can indulge in this ocean of treasure and come up with your own fantasy albums.

 

Magical Realism and Visionary Fiction

I’m happy to share Marian Lee’s thoughtful comparison of the genres of magical realism and visionary fiction from her rich, colorful blog.  Her first post, The Visionary Perspective, introduces visionary fiction and how it relates to her charming book, The Lioness of Brumley Hall.  The follow-up, Revealing the Magical, compares the two genres, but also explores the uses of combining them:

“The combination of visionary and magical realism also allows me to overcome the “la la” aspect of being too precious in expressing the spiritual wisdom of the former, but also from succumbing to the harsh political commentary of the latter.”

More power to Marian for expanding genres, supporting the visionary fiction cause, and infusing middle grade books with higher consciousness!