Geoff Nelder's Blog, page 32

Furthering farther

Furthering farther

It is a noticeable trend for writers and newscasters to say 'further' in the context of distance where one would expect the word 'farther' to be used. Is this a national or English-language-world etymological change of significance usage?

Not really. For physical distance, the correct word to use is farther. Easy to remember – far = physical distance. Further is in addition, figurative and metaphysical distance. To further a point. For example, Lem asks, "How much farther is it?" Clarke answers, "Ten light years. Any further questions, ask Robbie."

Its usage can be ambiguous and in which case further is the safer option. However, it is wrong (technically) to say it is a further 10 miles to walk, or that the mountain is further away than you thought.

Apparently the misuse of further and the decline of farther has waxed and waned for centuries. In the future perhaps only further will be seen and heard but in the meantime most editors will keep their red pens busy. Vive la difference!

Interment, and Romance in Science Fiction

It's been a busy week for me. Virtually no writing but a fair bit of reading and meeting people. On Thursday 23rd February my aunt Betty Brown was buried in the cemetery of St Mary's Church in Charlton Kings, near Cheltenham. Funny things, funerals. My favourite aunt died two weeks ago possibly because she slipped on the steps of a swimming pool and banged the back of her head. She had a headache the next day but didn't trouble her doctor. She wrote me a congratulations card for being a granddaddy and posted a hilariously garish green cardigan she knitted for my other grandson. She died that night in her sleep of a brain haemorrhage. At her funeral her daughter was naturally tearful – yet had the organisational presence to order me a vegan platter at the wake. I was so impressed. Normally I assume there'd be nothing for me. My aunt's son, well it hadn't hit him hard, yet. We talked about my books because my aunt had given him my humorous thriller, Escaping Reality, to him to read. I gave him one of my promo cards. Then others asked for them. I only took one because it never occurred to me to use a family funeral as a promo opportunity. See? I'm not a pro writer as I should be. Yes we grieved at her premature demise but it was good to see again so many other relatives I hardly ever see. Funny things, funerals.

While Aunt Betty's coffin slid earthwards to rest on top of her husband's coffin (cigarettes predicted his demise many years ago) and we all admired the gently rolling Cotswold Hills, I had two thoughts. We should have installed a periscope so she could admire those views too, and it would be fine for me to have a cardboard coffin. I discussed with my niece, Shelly, that I have a half-baked notion that the weak electromagnetic field our brains generate might outlive our fleshy bodies. Maybe those magnetic fields relate to ghostly apparitions, or the lost souls, spiritual essences? I've a feeling the nearly 2,000 degrees Celsius during cremation might fatally disturb such a field, and the possibility hence of existing beyond our ridiculously short lives. Us atheists have a compulsion to either accept our lot, or clutch at ethereal straws. So, if when a juggernaut has its revenge on my cycling form in the future and you see my recycled card (made from old birthday cards and postcards from Blackpool) coffin  in a crematorium, then when the vicar – or preferably the Humanist celebrant – asks the congregation of three or four who care, "is there anyone here who has just cause…" Ah, wrong ceremony.

I arrived back in Chester in time attend the Chester Library Science Fiction and Fantasy Book Club. The meeting was scheduled to discuss Romance and Relationships in Science Fiction. There was no set book: the idea being for each of us to select one and review it for the group. It was tricky without recourse to purely sexual acts described in those pulp books of yesterday. Also the sexually explicit was mentioned such as John Norman's 30 books such as the Chronicles of Gor. We discussed the 1950s books by Robert Heinlein such as Podkayne of Mars and  Stranger in a Strange Land – the latter for its teasing of the public with unorthodox 'marriages' and the wonderful character of Michael Valentine Smith, the human baby brought up by Martians with his learnt ESP and literal interpretation of what people say. Our leader was disappointed no one had chosen Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination with the relationship there being extreme hate and revenge. I wanted to review a modern SF book that had used romance and relationships in a significant way. I know John Norman's Gor books are still being published but I haven't read them. I had read Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveller's wife, and this is my full review.

The time travel theme has fascinated me since HG Wells onwards. Exploration of the Time Travel paradox  (a simple one: go back in time, meet yourself as a younger you and chat – maybe make a lasting impression such a  tattoo, but as an adult you didn't have one and have no memory of such a meeting. More complex is the cliché of killing your grandfather so you never existed, step on a butterfly that was crucial in a food chain leading to eventual extinction of humans, etc) makes excellent intelligent fiction as well as non-fiction. But this book explores none of this, probably wisely.  Nevertheless, we cannot but be intrigued by the premise of a man carrying a chrono-mutated gene such that he suddenly finds himself naked in his current body-age but in anywhen give or take 50 years, and anywhere. Actually the anywhere tends to be in places he works, lives (past, present and future), in the street or in the garden of a young girl.

Aspects of this plot worry me. The girl is not freaked out nearly as much as one would expect. Sadly for her the man, Henry, manipulates her whole life from six years old, through marriage to him, past his death to when she is in her 80s. He cannot be serious that he has no control over their destinies, or that of others, when he engineers their wealth through lottery and equity predictions. He is also able to change the future as in the experiment changing a signature on a painting. It is a copout not to invoke paradoxes here.  And why, sometimes, doesn't he emerge in a wall, in the air, in someone? Maybe I am too nostalgic for the science logic, but Henry claims not to want to air travel for fear of returning to a place where the airplane was.

I am equally disturbed that the two main characters are not likeable – do we care what happens to them? No. This is partly because of the plot structure device of rapid-switching POV between them. I'm not sure how I would have organised it but the result of this way is that the reader doesn't build a rapport with either of them.

The whole book depends on an illogicality too. He doesn't meet, in real time, the woman he often engages with until he is 28, she 20. She remembers him but he doesn't her. Yet, he can travel back and to, up to 50 years. His going forward must have stumbled over Clare, or the evidence for her. This plot contrivance is ludicrous, sadly, because it has the elements of a rich love story, if only we cared.

There are few very well-written and memorable phrasing. One is where Clare mentions why she has no culinary skills. 'I walk into the kitchen and I hear this little voice saying, "Go away." So I do.'

The wedding speech by love/hate friend/enemy Gomez  (p267) is very good as is the hilarious whirlwind of Time Travel disappearances on Henry's wedding day.

The premise is not original. After Michael Moorcock's vast output of TT tales it would be difficult. But an episode of Quantum Leap (TV series 1989 – 1993) had Scott Bakula (Capn Archer in Star Trek, Next Generation) as Dr Sam Beckett, spontaneously travelled to and fro in time, once, if I remember correctly, to see his future wife as a young girl, and had the dilemma of preventing an accident, but which would bring their timelines together. Preventing the accident could have meant not meeting and so not marrying her later. Also, the premise of an illness inducing time changes is not new. However, very little in any story is brand new, what matters is how this story unfolds and how it is told. There are magic moments, especially for readers unfamiliar with time travel in fiction. There is a love story, albeit with two self-obsessed individuals who make it difficult for the reader to care about them. Nevertheless, it is definitely a romance and a powerful and original relationship. I wish I'd thought of it first.

Next month we discuss SF books using Mars. Quite tricky to find one published recently ie since Voyager spacecraft and telescopes ruled out canals and surface life. After all I am trying to grab a handle on contemporary SF for my own writing – either to do similar or to deliberately avoid modern tropes. I found Alan Baker's The Martian Ambassador but it seems to be written as if back in 1899. It's probably a fun read and I might get it later. In the meantime I've chosen Philip K Dick's Martian Time-Slip as it has elements of madness and time travel as well as Mars that all appeal. In the meantime if anyone knows of a contemporary fiction using Mars please let me know.

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Aidan Lucid – guest blogger!

Aidan Lucid lives in Eire and is a young up and coming writer of young adult fiction. I've known him for years and admire his writing.

From Dream to Reality

By Aidan Lucid

 

The following scenario is probably quite familiar to a lot of writers. You enter your favourite bookstore, browsing through the various books of your preferred genre and secretly you dream about that manuscript on your computer or gathering dust in the drawer at home, filling up the shelf space. Well, here's my story of how my dream has become a reality and how yours can too.

It began back in early 2005. I was sitting home one day in my living-room and the image of the protagonist for my novel, Henry Simmons, garbed in golden armour and a red cloak fastened around his neck, entered my mind. I thought that this image was astounding and I commenced plotting out the first book, The Zargothian Tales: Return of the Son of Hamorin, which is part of a trilogy. Before I knew it, I had all the chapters mapped out and all that was left now was the daunting task of sitting down and writing the novel.

As I was approximately four chapters into The Zargothian Tales: Return of the Son of Hamorin, tragedy struck and I was knocked down by a car. The result was that I had a severely fractured right ankle and was wheelchair bound for seven months. Now, as with anyone in this rather unfavourable situation, the usual questions began to run through my mind: "Why did this happen to me?" "What did I do to deserve this?" The fear of never being able to walk again constantly hung over me like a dark cloud. Once these questions and worries had abated and a fortnight elapsed, I decided that instead of complaining and fretting, I should be grateful to be alive and that this accident granted me the opportunity to write my novel.

Having finally come to terms with my situation, I dived straight into Henry's adventure and put aside an hour or two every day to continue writing and conducting some research. Within six months, I had completed the manuscript and now came the other fun part of being a writer: the editing. Of course, I say "fun" with a hint of sarcasm. For another six months, I read, re-read and eliminated some paragraphs/pages, which I thought hindered the story. A suggestion was made that I send it to a proofreader and I did.

Once all this was done, there loomed on the horizon the most daunting task a writer could ever undertake – finding a publisher. At times, it seemed that I would never find one, despite reading and religiously adhering to all the advice given in books such as, The Writers' and Artists' Yearbook and The Writers' Market. To say that it was a struggle would be an understatement. All this was worthwhile, however, because after receiving roughly 75 to 80 rejections during a gruelling two years of relentless searching, I finally obtained a publisher and my book was released in December 2010. Ten months later, it was released in paperback and is now standing on shelves in bookstores.

A question that I'm frequently asked is, "Was all the heartache worth it?" In one simple word, yes because I've achieved what many haven't. My advice to fellow writers out there is the following:

Never follow trends. If your story contains well-developed characters, believable dialogue, a riveting plot and every chapter ending on an exciting cliff-hanger, then you're onto a winner and it will stand on its own merits.
Do some market research. Make sure that there are no other novels out there like yours. If there are, then you could be accused of plagiarism or run the risk of being labelled "unoriginal". Think outside the box and ask yourself, "What if…?" This question has spawned many classic tales that have endured the test of time.
Make sure that you get opinions of your manuscript from friends who you know will be brutally honest. This will save you a lot of trouble in the long run.
Don't be too disheartened by all the rejection slips. How many authors have we read or heard about that was the recipient of many rejections but still managed to overcome this? If you believe in your story, then go for it and never surrender to the "Nos". Bear in mind that it only ever takes one "Yes" to be published.
Once you have achieved the nigh impossible goal of nabbing a publisher, be sure to plan out a marketing strategy. God knows you worked hard enough on your novel so now it's time to make it sell and don't leave it all up to your publisher. Seize the initiative and promote yourself. You could begin doing this at least six months before the release date. Creating a website can be a great way to get your book noticed and joining social networking websites such as Bebo, Facebook and Twitter is a useful way to tell people about your novel and direct traffic towards your site, which in turn, could result in sales. My website is: www.thezargothiantales.com. Hiring a local PR company might not be a bad idea either because they could have valuable media contacts.
Learn to blog effectively and make sure that what you have to say is worth reading. Always keep your intended audience in mind when blogging. This is a unique way to promote yourself and your novel. Some chick-lit and even fantasy authors have been snapped up by literary agents/publishers through their blog. You can set-up a blog account for free at Blogger (www.blogger.com) and WordPress (www.wordpress.com). Be warned: some blogging software can have a bit of a learning curve.

 

Another question I'm asked is, "How do you know if it is 'The One'?" The answer is simple: if you feel excited while writing it and if you can't wait to get home from work and continue typing or writing you're hero/heroine's adventure, then you know it is "The One".

Don't just daydream about your book being a bestseller because if that's all you do, then that's all it will remain – just a dream. Sit down, plot out your novel and get writing. So what are you doing still reading this then? Good luck!

 

Aidan Lucid's, The Zargothian Tales: Return of the Son of Hamorin, is available to purchase as an ebook at www.wordtechs.com/ZTLucid.html  or www.amazon.com. His book is also available to purchase in paperback at www.thezargothiantales.com A portion of the royalties go towards a charity in Ireland called, "Friends of ABLE" , which is an organisation that helps people with disabilities gain new work skills and also employment.

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Nothing to be frightened of

This Julian Barnes book is about attitudes to death, especially for atheists like himself. Near the end he ponders on how writers' books are a kind of immortality – but is it? The Earth will eventually be engulfed by the Sun (about 6 billion years) and NASA probably still haven't funded a Mars mission let alone an escape to another solar system along with the world's digitised creative works. Barnes knows his books won't be read forever – there are so few Homers around – and has this to say, which amused me a lot (though my wife found nothing risible so be warned).

P.226

"… At some point there will be a last reader for me…And then that reader will die…

My last reader: there is a temptation to be sentimental over him or her. Indeed, I was about to make some authorial gesture of thanks and praise to the ultimate pair of eyes to examine this book, this page, this line. But then logic kicked in: your last reader is, by definition, someone who doesn't recommend your books to anyone else. You bastard! Not good enough, eh? You prefer all that trivial stuff in your superficial century. I was about to mourn your passing but I'm getting over it fast. You're really not going to press my book on anyone else? You really are so mean-spirited, so idle-minded, so lacking in critical judgement? Then you don't deserve me. Go on, fuck off and die. Yes, you.

I shall myself long since fucked off and died…"

As I write this, Julian Barnes is still alive but his short book Nothing to be Frightened of (note the deliberate ending with a preposition) is packed with anecdotes and interesting philosophical thoughts. ISBN 978-0-099-52374-1

Favourite Aunt RIP

Aunt Betty Brown was married to my mother's brother, Desmond and they lived in Granley Gardens for as long as I remember. I hate that cliche and, again, it isn't true. But nearly. I first moved to Cheltenham as a nearly five-year-old around 1951 and first knew of Des and Betty's house in the mid to late 1950s. 60 years in the same house is a loooong time. Des died many years ago from his heavy smoking – as he knew he would. Shame. When Betty's daughter phoned on Wednesday to tell me that her mum died in her sleep at the young age of 77, by coincidence I was reading a Congratulations on your Grandson card from her to us for the birth of Nathan to my daughter 3 weeks ago. As one comes another goes, it seems. Betty was a great knitter (no jokes about big nits thank you) and, like my sister, would knit clothes for the family new babies. She also had sent my 3-year-old grandson a new jacket last week. Interestingly, it is so garishly green that he is forbidden to wear it outside the house! Very little phased Aunty Betty. I would cycle the 150 miles from Chester to Cheltenham every year, stopping at youth hostels or B&Bs en route. I couldn't let family and friends know in advance in case my legs turned their revolutions into revolt and I had to abort. So, I would turn up in cycling gear and with helmet and sunglasses knock on a door to ask for a cup of tea. All but Betty would look at me as if I was an anonymous courier or a passing chancer. She knew it was me instantly and even if she hadn't seen me for a year would immediately pull me in and get the kettle on. She strongly encouraged me to write fiction, and although science fiction and horror weren't her personal cup of tea, she'd read my books and stories and pass honest judgement. A worthy lady, remembered with fondness for ever.

The Four books of my trilogy?

I was thinking yesterday about what novel to write when my ARIA trilogy is finished. It nearly is, just about 30-40,000 words to go with volume 3. My own reading has returned to gritty hard science fiction but with a literary feel. Hence I'm into China Mieville for style with Greg Bear and Alistair Reynolds for content. Not completely, of course, as there would be a cocktail of Stanislaw Lem, Asimov, and yes, the styles of Julian Barnes, and ironic humour of Tibor Fischer. All those inspire me and "inform my narrative" to use posh jargon. So, I've always had an urge to write a novel based on an enigmatic planet. Something not right with it and our team of misfits go to sort it out. I've written short stories happening out in space and enjoyed those – some have been published. Slow Crash for example won a commendation at the Hubbard Writers of the Future. Then yesterday, walking home in our mild minus 5 Celsius (mild compared to the rest of Europe with minus 30 and less in Germany and even Rome has snow with the Colliseum is closed because of the ice) I realised that there is such a mystery planet in ARIA. So is there a fourth book? Could be. There are enough survivors in the original main characters to make up a team and the aliens have headed for Earth. A planet swap has happened – hilarious yet deadly. You can't wait to read it, can you? Ha ha, and it has an original premise, yes one which has not been used so far. There have been four book trilogies before – Hitchhiker's Guide for example – so I follow a great precedent. On the other hand should it be a separate book on a mystery planet with new characters and settings? Issues, issues.

Those eyeballs – arrggh!

Review of eyeballs growing all over me again by Tony Rauch

Reviewed by Geoff Nelder

Paperback: 144 pages

Publisher: Eraserhead Press (October 24, 2010)

Language: English

ISBN-13: 978-1936383337

 

This is a Young Adult collection of humorous, no, whacky, stories you shouldn't miss. Note the unconventional use of lower case letters in titles. I did that once on a poster in the late 1960s to advertise a meeting of the local Labour Party Young Socialists and was reprimanded by the vice-principal of the college for being too avant garde. I am envious that Tony Rauch is doing it to good effect now. There are writing conventions Rauch ignores, and this will either matter to you if you are an editor, or be unaffected if you are a reader.

The first short story is 'the stench'. Rather loosely written but with plenty of sensory Show and three-dimensional characters. The retching by the reader from the odorous lead-in, and follow-up is exquisitely twisted with the end game. Beautifully done.

'people have been drifting away lately' – a tale detailing what happens when people deflate, curl up like a leaf and drift, twirl into the sky as if a gentle, silent but inexorable twister is taking them away. Beautifully written. Is it a metaphor of life and mortality? The steps to acceptance of the end, perhaps. Whatever, it cunningly reflects a whimsy we all must have now and then.

Through to 'the sandbox' where treasure lies at the end of this rainbow of short stories, some gross, others rendering the reader thoughtful and admiring.

A stimulating collection suited for bizarro aficionados and anyone who curls up with thoughtful stories for the curious.

Get it from Amazon as a slim paperback.

No ebook just yet.

 

Meet R.B. Harkess

Today, my blog is open to a guest blogger: fellow BSFA Orbiter and SF writer friend, R.B. Blogger. I've met Rob and his wife at FantasyCon and NewCon as well as on facebook and of course as a critiquer. He writes fine science fiction and has just had a Young Adult novel published by Proxima – Aphrodite's Dawn. Here is his blog. Feel free to click on his links and say hello.

Guest blogger – R.B. Harkess, science fiction writer.

When I first got into writing the internet didn't exist. OK, so I've now established myself as either way older than you thought, or a liar. Seriously, though, back then we had bulletin board systems and modems, and they worked pretty much the same as forums do on websites today.

I was even a member of a writers group. We called ourselves 'Writer's Block' and we lived in awe of the only two members who were published writers, Steve Harris (a horror writer) and a bloke named Pan Pantziarka. It was a great place to hang out, but the support was emotional and social, rather than practical or technical.

I gave up writing after a couple of years; there seemed to be so little opportunity, and the only resource we had to find markets was the trusty Writers and Artists Yearbook.

I got bitten by the bug again two years ago, after getting into podcasts. I started on short stories, which I still love to write, and was absolutely astonished at how things had changed; social media, online databases, and the number of anthologies and e-zines that were out there to help you showcase your work.

I met Geoff through a crit group, one run by the British Science Fiction Association. We don't share that group any more, and I greatly miss his wisdom and skill. It was also Geoff who gave me my first real break in the industry, publishing one of my short stories in "Escape Velocity: The Anthology".

And now, to my ongoing surprise, my first novel, "Aphrodite's Dawn", has been published as an e-book by Proxima, which is why I am creeping around on other people's blogs. It's a refreshing diversion in the YA market, involving no sparkly vampires or other objects of paranormal romance, and tells the story of three young people who find the tiny world they thought they lived in was actually a huge asteroid, kitted out as a rescue ship. The ship has 300,000 sleepers on board, but is out of control, and Garret, Pitr and Alyssa have to puzzle, and sometimes fight, their way through to the other end of the ship to give the engines the commands to save them all.

I'm not saying couldn't have written it without the support and encouragement of the wonderful community of writers I've met since I sat in front of a keyboard and stared at that terrifying blank screen again. I am saying it wouldn't have been as good, and it certainly wouldn't have been as much fun.

R B Harkess was born in Bristol but now lives just outside London. Writing is constantly complicated by a real-world job in IT and two cats – one of which likes to lie on the printer whilst the other prefers to sprawl on the laptop. A blog can be found at www.rbharkess.com, where such wonders as links to facebook, twitter and email can be found.

New and New

On the 20th January my daughter popped out a new baby boy. Hello to Nathan Robert Monk. He's the spitting image of his big brother (nearly 3), Oliver, who has to be prised off from cuddling Nathan to give others a chance.

Today I received another book to review. It is a collection of short stories by Tony Rauch – "eyeballs growing all over me… again". I'm looking forward to making time to read these amusing and no doubt lateral-thinking tales. His blog is at http://trauch.wordpress.com/

I've now reached chapter 33 in writing ARIA volume 3 – about two thirds of the way through. Volume one – Left Luggage – has had two edits by LL-Publications editor and is now being finely proofread. In the meantime artist Andy Bigwood has produced this marvelous image for the cover. This also is in its third draft.

ARIA endorsements

It is always a tricky thing to ask professional and famous authors to endorse the work of an unknown writer even if published. However, I am bowed with humility by the graciousness of the greats who have responded to my request for a publishable comment on the science fiction book, ARIA – volume one: Left Luggage – being published by LL-Publications this year. So far I have had positive endorsements from

Brad Lineweaver: Geoff Nelder asks all the right questions (He refers to the issues in the novel where people have difficult decisions to make about what aspects of life is most critical).

Jon Courtenay Grimwood: Geoff Nelder wears science fiction like other people wear clothes.

Robert J Sawyer commented that Left Luggage is a fascinating project.

Mike Resnick: ARIA has an intriguing premise, and is written in a very accessible style.

Dan Simmons wishes me luck and success with ARIA but was too busy to read the manuscript – no problem, I quite understand.

Years ago I would not have dreamed of talking to and writing to the best and admired SF writers in the world and yet they are real people and remarkably accessible. The warmth is tangible. Thanks too to the Chester SF/F rebel book group meeting tonight. We discussed Greg Bear's Hull Zero Three and although we disagreed in many ways, we are glued by a common admiration of the genre.

Then back home to write more paragraphs on ARIA volume three.