I had some free time so I was browsing Wikipedia and ended up reading the articles on Sword and Planet and Planetary Romance. They clearly haven’t been written by the same people as they differ on a number of points. The Sword and Planet article, which I think is a better constructed piece than the other, argues that it is a distinct genre from Planetary Romance, whereas the latter article has a non-committal discussion on ‘sword and planet’.
Once the article on Space Opera is added to the mix things get even more confusing as it had a section arguing its definition in opposition to Planetary Romance – since one happens in space and comes from Westerns and Seafaring epics whereas Planetary Romance happens on a planet and is tied to lost world and lost civilisation tales. Who knows what happens when stories go from outer space to a planet and back again?
Now, I know opponents of Wikipedia will jump on this opportunity to say it’s more proof of its inaccuracy and inconsistency, but that’s not fair. Genres are notoriously difficult to nail down and subgenres like these are even worse and will be described differently by scholars regardless.
As always, genres and subgenres are just broad boxes which inevitably overlap in any given story. But looking at them and some of the authors involved in these and others (Weird, Sword and Sorcery etc) I realise I have a huge interest in the developments of Speculative Fiction (the overarching super-genre) through the first half of last century and the end of the one before it. Particularly in the pulp era when genres were being mashed together all over the place and new territories uncovered.
I think that’s where I’d like to focus my studies and my geekiness. So expect to see more posts on this era and the stories it generated.
Keep dreaming.
Friday, 25 October 2013
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
September Reading Round-up
This month was mainly marked by two books, Kevin J Anderson’s Hopscotch and Frank Herbert’s High-Opp. I did also read issue 62 of Aurealis.
Let’s start with Hopscotch. The concept behind this is really intriguing; basically at some point in human evolution we gain the ability to swap bodies with each other, which makes the old adage of ‘live a day in another person’s shoes’ seem rather quaint – shoes? Bah, I was in their feet. The possibilities with this are huge and unfortunately the book tries to cover a lot of them.
It follows four orphans as they leave the orphanage and enter this brave new world. They each have their own paths and the stories wind their own ways, overlapping only in characters for the most part. At first it was like reading a series of interrelated short stories and I was enjoying that, but as the stories began to spin out I kept waiting for more to happen. So while I did enjoy it, Hopscotch could have been much better I feel. It explored too many ideas, the main characters were always too angelic and not enough actually happened. Which I didn’t expect from Anderson, although I admit the only other things of his I’ve read so far are his Star Wars works and the Crystal Door trilogy he co-wrote with Rebecca Moesta.
Herbert’s High-Opp was an early work, previously unpublished. It seems he wrote a number of works before Dune which no-one picked up and now the Kevin J Anderson and Brian Herbert team are making them available. Whether this is a good thing or not I’m not prepared to say; High-Opp had an intriguing idea but felt rather under-cooked – especially the ending.
It’s essentially a dystopia where the world is now governed by ‘opinion polls’ – fancy that. The extreme version of what we’re dangerously close to in reality does make for a good dystopia in the classical sense, but here it becomes more a question of cloak and dagger revolution. It does feature an advanced form of social psychology similar to what Asimov uses in the Foundation series, where behaviour and historical events are predicted; again it’s not explored much and is more a way for Herbert to push a political line – as is the end of the book. It wasn’t a bad novel, but it certainly wasn’t great either.
The stories in Aurealis #62 were Remnants by Dan Rabarts and The Leaves of the Manuka Tree by Phillip W Simpson. The first was a fantasy story that reminded me a lot of C A Smith in many respects; there was a king who’d lost his kingdom seeking an ancient artefact in a desert and even a necromancer. But I don’t think Smith would have had the family connection this one had. So I really enjoyed that one, the second one I did enjoy but not as much. It was more science fiction as it was far in the future and had a super soldier but it was wrapped up in Maori tradition, which was interesting in itself. However, it was very cut and dried and I just didn’t really connect with it.
I also started some books including book three in George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, it may be some time before I finish that though especially with NaNoWriMo looming large and the birth of my son not long after that. My ebook at the moment is Cory Doctorow’s Pirate Cinema which I’m having very mixed feelings about, more on that next month.
Keep dreaming!
Let’s start with Hopscotch. The concept behind this is really intriguing; basically at some point in human evolution we gain the ability to swap bodies with each other, which makes the old adage of ‘live a day in another person’s shoes’ seem rather quaint – shoes? Bah, I was in their feet. The possibilities with this are huge and unfortunately the book tries to cover a lot of them.
It follows four orphans as they leave the orphanage and enter this brave new world. They each have their own paths and the stories wind their own ways, overlapping only in characters for the most part. At first it was like reading a series of interrelated short stories and I was enjoying that, but as the stories began to spin out I kept waiting for more to happen. So while I did enjoy it, Hopscotch could have been much better I feel. It explored too many ideas, the main characters were always too angelic and not enough actually happened. Which I didn’t expect from Anderson, although I admit the only other things of his I’ve read so far are his Star Wars works and the Crystal Door trilogy he co-wrote with Rebecca Moesta.
Herbert’s High-Opp was an early work, previously unpublished. It seems he wrote a number of works before Dune which no-one picked up and now the Kevin J Anderson and Brian Herbert team are making them available. Whether this is a good thing or not I’m not prepared to say; High-Opp had an intriguing idea but felt rather under-cooked – especially the ending.
It’s essentially a dystopia where the world is now governed by ‘opinion polls’ – fancy that. The extreme version of what we’re dangerously close to in reality does make for a good dystopia in the classical sense, but here it becomes more a question of cloak and dagger revolution. It does feature an advanced form of social psychology similar to what Asimov uses in the Foundation series, where behaviour and historical events are predicted; again it’s not explored much and is more a way for Herbert to push a political line – as is the end of the book. It wasn’t a bad novel, but it certainly wasn’t great either.
The stories in Aurealis #62 were Remnants by Dan Rabarts and The Leaves of the Manuka Tree by Phillip W Simpson. The first was a fantasy story that reminded me a lot of C A Smith in many respects; there was a king who’d lost his kingdom seeking an ancient artefact in a desert and even a necromancer. But I don’t think Smith would have had the family connection this one had. So I really enjoyed that one, the second one I did enjoy but not as much. It was more science fiction as it was far in the future and had a super soldier but it was wrapped up in Maori tradition, which was interesting in itself. However, it was very cut and dried and I just didn’t really connect with it.
I also started some books including book three in George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire, it may be some time before I finish that though especially with NaNoWriMo looming large and the birth of my son not long after that. My ebook at the moment is Cory Doctorow’s Pirate Cinema which I’m having very mixed feelings about, more on that next month.
Keep dreaming!
Monday, 30 September 2013
Author Profile - Clark Ashton Smith
Clark Ashton Smith came from a poor background and spent much of his early life trying to earn money for his family. But even while young he displayed a love of story and a passion for language. Some of his earliest works were written as a teenager and they were strongly influenced by the Arabian Tales, an influence that would linger.
He abandoned prose for some years and was a fairly successful poet. After his first published volume he was taken under the arm by George Sterling and mingled with fellow poets of the time including Ambrose Bierce.
Nowadays he’s remembered for his short fiction works which he wrote primarily for pulp magazines like Weird Tales. In fact, in terms of the ‘weird’ fiction of the pulp era he was one of the three heavyweights along with Lovecraft and Robert E Howard, and while those two may be better known these days I would argue Smith is the better writer of the group.
The ties between the three, while primarily through letters, were highly influential however as they borrowed names and ideas from each other frequently. So the building and weaving of certain famous or infamous mythos began. Smith set many tales in Hyboria which shared and helped build Howard’s Hyperborean setting where Kull, Conan and Red Sonja ran about; and he used names from Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos thus building on their renown and our knowledge of them within that crazy mixed-up universe.
Smith’s stories I must admit are not strong in plot, some of them barely even have one. Take The Abomination of Yondo, it tells of a man exiled from a harsh country into a desert known to contain horrors. We learn a little of why he was exiled but not a great deal, otherwise he simply walks on, encounters one monstrosity, continues on then encounters something so utterly terrifying he flees back to face torture and execution to escape the mad fear. Not much of a plot, but as we read it we drink in the details of the desert and its horrors, we sense the dread and the unnatural atmosphere of the place.
And that’s the key to Smith’s fiction – atmosphere. He creates the world we are reading about so vividly it really is like visiting the places ourselves. His use of language is rich and exorbitant, you may need a dictionary at times I know I did, and he clear took great delight in playing with words to build up these fantastic vistas and horrific scenes of death and worse. Make no mistake, these stories can be highly macabre, some seem to exist for no other reason than creeping you out. In that regard he was something of a successor to Poe.
I could say lots more about him of course but the best way to experience his writing is for yourself and I highly, highly recommend you do.
Keep dreaming!
He abandoned prose for some years and was a fairly successful poet. After his first published volume he was taken under the arm by George Sterling and mingled with fellow poets of the time including Ambrose Bierce.
Nowadays he’s remembered for his short fiction works which he wrote primarily for pulp magazines like Weird Tales. In fact, in terms of the ‘weird’ fiction of the pulp era he was one of the three heavyweights along with Lovecraft and Robert E Howard, and while those two may be better known these days I would argue Smith is the better writer of the group.
The ties between the three, while primarily through letters, were highly influential however as they borrowed names and ideas from each other frequently. So the building and weaving of certain famous or infamous mythos began. Smith set many tales in Hyboria which shared and helped build Howard’s Hyperborean setting where Kull, Conan and Red Sonja ran about; and he used names from Lovecraft’s Cthulu mythos thus building on their renown and our knowledge of them within that crazy mixed-up universe.
Smith’s stories I must admit are not strong in plot, some of them barely even have one. Take The Abomination of Yondo, it tells of a man exiled from a harsh country into a desert known to contain horrors. We learn a little of why he was exiled but not a great deal, otherwise he simply walks on, encounters one monstrosity, continues on then encounters something so utterly terrifying he flees back to face torture and execution to escape the mad fear. Not much of a plot, but as we read it we drink in the details of the desert and its horrors, we sense the dread and the unnatural atmosphere of the place.
And that’s the key to Smith’s fiction – atmosphere. He creates the world we are reading about so vividly it really is like visiting the places ourselves. His use of language is rich and exorbitant, you may need a dictionary at times I know I did, and he clear took great delight in playing with words to build up these fantastic vistas and horrific scenes of death and worse. Make no mistake, these stories can be highly macabre, some seem to exist for no other reason than creeping you out. In that regard he was something of a successor to Poe.
I could say lots more about him of course but the best way to experience his writing is for yourself and I highly, highly recommend you do.
Keep dreaming!
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
AFP + GTO Concert - Sydney September 16, 2013
I want to say a few words about last Saturday night but I’m having a hard time finding them. In short, my wife, my teenage niece and I went to see Amanda Palmer and The Grand Theft Orchestra at The Enmore and the concert was brilliant. It was one of those nights where you can feel the energy and the positive vibes just radiating around the room. The performers were all full of life and bursting with energy and the mosh area was a wave of human activity and joyousness.
What’s more, this energy wasn’t just for Amanda and her band, it was for the support acts too. Sure it built to its fever pitch when Amanda came out to perform and almost immediately crowd-surfed, but it was pretty high even as people were gathering and DJ S… was doing her thing. So when Die R… came out to do their thing the mood was ready for fun. If only Otto and Astrid could deliver – oh wait.
So, Die Roten Punkte or The Red Spots in English, are … how does one put this? … insane? Hmm, not quite. Hilarious would be a fairer description. They’re a musical comedy duo from Germany (if you hadn’t guessed) and they treated us to punk rock treats like Burger Store Dinosaur. Their personas and relationship are worked out perfectly and there were definite times when it was hard to tell if the chaos was real or elegantly planned. The final number, which featured Amanda on double cowbell and later the GTO dancing was a riot of laughs as ’80s electro something (whatever Kraftwerk were) got a bizarre tribute at once mocking and loving.
We were then treated to two pieces by Jherek Bischoff, one third of The Grand Theft Orchestra and a composer. I admit the one thing of his I heard on YouTube was not to my liking, but these pieces were good. The first was a bass guitar solo so what’s not to love? The second was a version of something he wrote for the Kronos Quartet – which is pretty huge when you think about who they are in the Classical music world. He played it on the instrument he composed it on, the ukulele. I kid you not, he composed a string quartet on the uke – and listening to that rendition … I did not know the ukulele could sound quite like that.
Earlier in the day I’d said to my wife, ‘I wonder if they’ll play the Grand Theft Intermission as an intro while Amanda comes on stage’, so I was pretty chuffed when the band came out and started playing it. It was the beginning of an amazing set. They shot through the three biggest singles off the new album right at the front, then played a mix of older songs, covers and some Dresden Dolls numbers.
It was fascinating seeing the different dynamic of Amanda with the GTO and hearing the songs done by them as a group. I first saw her solo with some support from Mikelangelo and The Black Sea Gentlemen and they backed her up brilliantly but there was no sense of an organic whole, they were backing her up. Then I saw her with Brian Viglione as the Dresden Dolls and it was incredible how in synch they were. The Counting Crows can react in an instant to a subtle hand gesture from Adam, those two could communicate with a look.
With the GTO it was an organic whole, but more like the Counting Crows, Amanda did at times communicate with a hand gesture – I think anyway, I’m sure I saw her do it, once. But simply the instrumentation and the personalities altered the entire feel of the songs and the performance which was alive and electric. Chad on guitar was sometimes a little scary and if you don’t believe me ask the guy who copped shrapnel from a guitar when it played up, but he was right into the music. Which is how it was for them all, the music was the thing and with the waves of energy and love coming off the audience they rode that music.
I should not forget the powerhouse song by Amanda’s flat mate Mali, the vocalist for Jaggery. It was intense and rhythmic and a nice balance to the show as a whole. And her vocals during the encore performance of Sweet Dreams were amazing.
As I mentioned in my last blog Amanda did a signing after the show – why? Because she loves her fans dummy. I got separated from my wife who was in front of me in the queue, she didn’t want anything signed but had made a card for Amanda to thank her for everything she and her music has done for her. Touched, Amanda stood up, leant over the table, lightly held her head and kissed her gently on the cheek. I told you she loves her fans.
In the end I handed her my ticket because it felt silly to get up there without anything, but I just wanted to thank her and tell her it was an awesome show. She smiled and touched my arm gently in acknowledgement. I smudged the autograph within seconds but that really wasn’t the point – we have Amanda’s autograph on several things including a pair of coasters anyway. My niece did a similar thing, I don’t know what she said though – but for someone unfamiliar with Amanda’s music she seemed to have a really good night and chair danced a few times too.
So I guess I found the words, or rather they were already there I just had to start putting them down. There’s a lesson there.
I think the other lesson of the night, or something I take from Amanda in general, is that honesty and connection are powerful things. No hiding behind the shell, no hiding behind bitter resentments and negativity – that just leads to more bitterness and an endless loop of nothing actually happening and no-one being happy. Approach with honesty and love, accept people as they are and find the connection. Then magic can happen.
Keep dreaming.
What’s more, this energy wasn’t just for Amanda and her band, it was for the support acts too. Sure it built to its fever pitch when Amanda came out to perform and almost immediately crowd-surfed, but it was pretty high even as people were gathering and DJ S… was doing her thing. So when Die R… came out to do their thing the mood was ready for fun. If only Otto and Astrid could deliver – oh wait.
So, Die Roten Punkte or The Red Spots in English, are … how does one put this? … insane? Hmm, not quite. Hilarious would be a fairer description. They’re a musical comedy duo from Germany (if you hadn’t guessed) and they treated us to punk rock treats like Burger Store Dinosaur. Their personas and relationship are worked out perfectly and there were definite times when it was hard to tell if the chaos was real or elegantly planned. The final number, which featured Amanda on double cowbell and later the GTO dancing was a riot of laughs as ’80s electro something (whatever Kraftwerk were) got a bizarre tribute at once mocking and loving.
We were then treated to two pieces by Jherek Bischoff, one third of The Grand Theft Orchestra and a composer. I admit the one thing of his I heard on YouTube was not to my liking, but these pieces were good. The first was a bass guitar solo so what’s not to love? The second was a version of something he wrote for the Kronos Quartet – which is pretty huge when you think about who they are in the Classical music world. He played it on the instrument he composed it on, the ukulele. I kid you not, he composed a string quartet on the uke – and listening to that rendition … I did not know the ukulele could sound quite like that.
Earlier in the day I’d said to my wife, ‘I wonder if they’ll play the Grand Theft Intermission as an intro while Amanda comes on stage’, so I was pretty chuffed when the band came out and started playing it. It was the beginning of an amazing set. They shot through the three biggest singles off the new album right at the front, then played a mix of older songs, covers and some Dresden Dolls numbers.
It was fascinating seeing the different dynamic of Amanda with the GTO and hearing the songs done by them as a group. I first saw her solo with some support from Mikelangelo and The Black Sea Gentlemen and they backed her up brilliantly but there was no sense of an organic whole, they were backing her up. Then I saw her with Brian Viglione as the Dresden Dolls and it was incredible how in synch they were. The Counting Crows can react in an instant to a subtle hand gesture from Adam, those two could communicate with a look.
With the GTO it was an organic whole, but more like the Counting Crows, Amanda did at times communicate with a hand gesture – I think anyway, I’m sure I saw her do it, once. But simply the instrumentation and the personalities altered the entire feel of the songs and the performance which was alive and electric. Chad on guitar was sometimes a little scary and if you don’t believe me ask the guy who copped shrapnel from a guitar when it played up, but he was right into the music. Which is how it was for them all, the music was the thing and with the waves of energy and love coming off the audience they rode that music.
I should not forget the powerhouse song by Amanda’s flat mate Mali, the vocalist for Jaggery. It was intense and rhythmic and a nice balance to the show as a whole. And her vocals during the encore performance of Sweet Dreams were amazing.
As I mentioned in my last blog Amanda did a signing after the show – why? Because she loves her fans dummy. I got separated from my wife who was in front of me in the queue, she didn’t want anything signed but had made a card for Amanda to thank her for everything she and her music has done for her. Touched, Amanda stood up, leant over the table, lightly held her head and kissed her gently on the cheek. I told you she loves her fans.
In the end I handed her my ticket because it felt silly to get up there without anything, but I just wanted to thank her and tell her it was an awesome show. She smiled and touched my arm gently in acknowledgement. I smudged the autograph within seconds but that really wasn’t the point – we have Amanda’s autograph on several things including a pair of coasters anyway. My niece did a similar thing, I don’t know what she said though – but for someone unfamiliar with Amanda’s music she seemed to have a really good night and chair danced a few times too.
So I guess I found the words, or rather they were already there I just had to start putting them down. There’s a lesson there.
I think the other lesson of the night, or something I take from Amanda in general, is that honesty and connection are powerful things. No hiding behind the shell, no hiding behind bitter resentments and negativity – that just leads to more bitterness and an endless loop of nothing actually happening and no-one being happy. Approach with honesty and love, accept people as they are and find the connection. Then magic can happen.
Keep dreaming.
Monday, 16 September 2013
August Reading Roundup At Last
Since my promise of regular posts I’ve been quiet, sorry about that. I have been busy though – preparing the house for a baby, which is ongoing, writing some freelance articles, studying some free courses via Coursera and watching my wife get a kiss from Amanda Palmer. I’ll write more about that last one soon, but first, before I completely forget, an August Reading Round-up.
I finished Clarke Ashton Smith’s Emperor of Dreams. I really recommend it to anyone who enjoys visiting distant vistas of the imagination; the places I went to while reading it are amazing. I wouldn’t want to go to them for real but I’m very happy I could tour them in my mind. Some of the stories were a bit lack-lustre I admit and most of the plots weren’t great, but that wasn’t the reason for reading them. The atmosphere and the landscapes of these stories are their real strength.
I also finished the Legends II anthology put together by Robert Silverberg. I had read most of this book years ago but still had three stories left – and, as we’re boxing some books to make way for the baby, I figured I’d knock this one over and put it away. The first story I read was Feist’s The Messenger, which follows a messenger travelling between camps on the front line and getting more than he bargained for. It was an interesting perspective to take and made for a fun read.
Then there was Elizabeth Haydon’s Threshold, which is set in the world of her Symphony of Ages series. I knew nothing of this series coming into this beyond the short introduction before it, but it was an engrossing story of people essentially waiting to die in a catastrophe, being lured by a gleam of hope, then utterly betrayed. Sorry, mild spoiler there.
Finally there was Terry Brooks’ Indomitable, set in Shannara. I actually found this a bit dull, there was too much introspection and recollection; I haven’t read any other Shannara works so I don’t know if that’s the norm or if the story being told just didn’t work without back story so Terry Brooks overcompensated, but it didn’t work for me.
Wil Wheaton’s Just a Geek was a surprise for me. I don’t read many autobiographical works but as Tabletop has inspired me to play more games and Wil has become something of a role model for me in his attitudes, and it was part of the last Humble Bundle ebook collection, I thought I’d read it. It was very honest, reading it feels like Wil telling you what happened then reading excerpts of his blog to you to fully paint the picture. It’s witty too and really grabbed me. I read it much more quickly than I would normally, even choosing to read it at times I reserve for physical paper books. Wil tells his own journey to a self-realisation and it’s inspiring and helps put things in perspective if you’re also wandering somewhat.
I think that’s all I read last month. At least to completion; I started Kevin J Anderson’s Hopscotch but I’ll discuss that next month along with Frank Herbert’s High-Opp and some other things.
Keep dreaming!
I finished Clarke Ashton Smith’s Emperor of Dreams. I really recommend it to anyone who enjoys visiting distant vistas of the imagination; the places I went to while reading it are amazing. I wouldn’t want to go to them for real but I’m very happy I could tour them in my mind. Some of the stories were a bit lack-lustre I admit and most of the plots weren’t great, but that wasn’t the reason for reading them. The atmosphere and the landscapes of these stories are their real strength.
I also finished the Legends II anthology put together by Robert Silverberg. I had read most of this book years ago but still had three stories left – and, as we’re boxing some books to make way for the baby, I figured I’d knock this one over and put it away. The first story I read was Feist’s The Messenger, which follows a messenger travelling between camps on the front line and getting more than he bargained for. It was an interesting perspective to take and made for a fun read.
Then there was Elizabeth Haydon’s Threshold, which is set in the world of her Symphony of Ages series. I knew nothing of this series coming into this beyond the short introduction before it, but it was an engrossing story of people essentially waiting to die in a catastrophe, being lured by a gleam of hope, then utterly betrayed. Sorry, mild spoiler there.
Finally there was Terry Brooks’ Indomitable, set in Shannara. I actually found this a bit dull, there was too much introspection and recollection; I haven’t read any other Shannara works so I don’t know if that’s the norm or if the story being told just didn’t work without back story so Terry Brooks overcompensated, but it didn’t work for me.
Wil Wheaton’s Just a Geek was a surprise for me. I don’t read many autobiographical works but as Tabletop has inspired me to play more games and Wil has become something of a role model for me in his attitudes, and it was part of the last Humble Bundle ebook collection, I thought I’d read it. It was very honest, reading it feels like Wil telling you what happened then reading excerpts of his blog to you to fully paint the picture. It’s witty too and really grabbed me. I read it much more quickly than I would normally, even choosing to read it at times I reserve for physical paper books. Wil tells his own journey to a self-realisation and it’s inspiring and helps put things in perspective if you’re also wandering somewhat.
I think that’s all I read last month. At least to completion; I started Kevin J Anderson’s Hopscotch but I’ll discuss that next month along with Frank Herbert’s High-Opp and some other things.
Keep dreaming!
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Plans/Dreams
Inspired by various people (Felicia Day, Amanda Palmer, Wil Wheaton, Neil Gaiman et al) and by life events (impending fatherdom) I’m going to try to treat the whole Wandering Friar enterprise – which is mostly to say my writing and this blog – as a business. As such I’m going to endeavour to post more regularly and have regular features, like my reading round-ups and author profiles, which will now be monthly events.
I have also been thinking of ways to expand Wandering Friar and pursue my dreams more fully. One of the things I’m planning on is to record audiobooks. These will be of public domain titles, particularly Gothic and post-Gothic works and Metaphysical poetry.
Another plan/dream is to develop my own RPG set in one of the many worlds I’ve dreamt up over the years. I’m thinking The Destroyed Continent will make a good start. It’s a huge archipelago which, funnily enough, used to be a continent until some cosmic disaster I haven’t yet determined the nature of. So there’ll be small cultures I can play with and room to grow things from a manageable position.
Finally there are my theatrical phantasmagorias, but I may give them their own post shortly.
So I’m getting the wheels of my plans into motion – cross your fingers and watch this space.
Keep dreaming.
I have also been thinking of ways to expand Wandering Friar and pursue my dreams more fully. One of the things I’m planning on is to record audiobooks. These will be of public domain titles, particularly Gothic and post-Gothic works and Metaphysical poetry.
Another plan/dream is to develop my own RPG set in one of the many worlds I’ve dreamt up over the years. I’m thinking The Destroyed Continent will make a good start. It’s a huge archipelago which, funnily enough, used to be a continent until some cosmic disaster I haven’t yet determined the nature of. So there’ll be small cultures I can play with and room to grow things from a manageable position.
Finally there are my theatrical phantasmagorias, but I may give them their own post shortly.
So I’m getting the wheels of my plans into motion – cross your fingers and watch this space.
Keep dreaming.
Friday, 16 August 2013
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead
1996. Year 11. My memory of that year is that it was always overcast. When I try to think of sunlight all I remember is the girl I had a huge crush on at the time, her face was never in shadow. It was the year my chronic fatigue was at its worst and life was all a bit hard and confusing.
It was also a transformative year. I wrote most of our drama class’s recreation of the Eureka Stockade, I studied Hamlet and I discovered Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Suddenly, amidst the bleak mists of illness teenage and addlement I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to write plays.
I don’t think I can overestimate the impact Ros & Guil had on me at the time. It was hilarious and demonstrated a high level of wit, but it also had these speeches of philosophical quandaries. Quite simply it was breathtaking and life-changing.
But I never saw it performed – live anyway and the film is a different beast, still brilliant but different, and well, it’s a film so it can’t be the same; Ros & Guil is about characters in the wings of a play, it’s quintessentially theatre. So when my good friend and fellow raving loon Ash Walker offered me a ticket to the opening night of the new STC production … insert mad acceptance here.
I had one reservation – I’ve never been a Tim Minchin fan and he was going to be Rosencrantz. But, I was willing to chance it. And it’s a good thing I did. The production is quite simply fantastic. Tim played a somewhat dimmer Rosencrantz than I expected but he was nonetheless fitted and fully the character for that. The repartee between him and Toby Schmitz was flawless and the pair of them had an energy that carried the play along to each terrifying moment of nothing that inevitably followed every chaotic moment of action.
The rest of the cast was equally strong, particularly the players who had the right amount of knockabout comedy and the Shakespearean characters were the stereotypical ‘Shakespearean’ and brilliantly overdone which juxtaposed nicely with the ‘reality’ of Ros and Guil’s situation.
There’s much more sunlight in my life these days and the girl’s face has been replaced by my beautiful wife’s, but Stoppard’s influence remains. Whatever I end up achieving as a writer and in whatever field it is, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead will always be one of the underlying influences and its discovery will always be remembered by me as a major turning point in my life.
I’m now remembering all the stuff I’ve read of Stoppard saying art isn’t important and his plays just entertainment, nothing more. Well Sir Tom, you were wrong on that one, I know that much and right now the wind is southerly.
Keep dreaming.
It was also a transformative year. I wrote most of our drama class’s recreation of the Eureka Stockade, I studied Hamlet and I discovered Tom Stoppard’s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Suddenly, amidst the bleak mists of illness teenage and addlement I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to write plays.
I don’t think I can overestimate the impact Ros & Guil had on me at the time. It was hilarious and demonstrated a high level of wit, but it also had these speeches of philosophical quandaries. Quite simply it was breathtaking and life-changing.
But I never saw it performed – live anyway and the film is a different beast, still brilliant but different, and well, it’s a film so it can’t be the same; Ros & Guil is about characters in the wings of a play, it’s quintessentially theatre. So when my good friend and fellow raving loon Ash Walker offered me a ticket to the opening night of the new STC production … insert mad acceptance here.
I had one reservation – I’ve never been a Tim Minchin fan and he was going to be Rosencrantz. But, I was willing to chance it. And it’s a good thing I did. The production is quite simply fantastic. Tim played a somewhat dimmer Rosencrantz than I expected but he was nonetheless fitted and fully the character for that. The repartee between him and Toby Schmitz was flawless and the pair of them had an energy that carried the play along to each terrifying moment of nothing that inevitably followed every chaotic moment of action.
The rest of the cast was equally strong, particularly the players who had the right amount of knockabout comedy and the Shakespearean characters were the stereotypical ‘Shakespearean’ and brilliantly overdone which juxtaposed nicely with the ‘reality’ of Ros and Guil’s situation.
There’s much more sunlight in my life these days and the girl’s face has been replaced by my beautiful wife’s, but Stoppard’s influence remains. Whatever I end up achieving as a writer and in whatever field it is, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead will always be one of the underlying influences and its discovery will always be remembered by me as a major turning point in my life.
I’m now remembering all the stuff I’ve read of Stoppard saying art isn’t important and his plays just entertainment, nothing more. Well Sir Tom, you were wrong on that one, I know that much and right now the wind is southerly.
Keep dreaming.
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
Reading Round-up
Having said I’d blog more I’ve not done much at all, sorry about that. So I figure a little reading round-up wouldn’t go astray.
I finally got through Clash of Kings – that’s Game of Thrones Season 2 for TV folks – and I’m looking forward to A Storm of Daggers. I also decided not to watch season 2 of the show; I watched season one and enjoyed it but it lacks some of the depth, the story is shifting away from the book and … I don’t need to see that stuff.
Finishing it opened the way for me to read Neil Gaiman’s latest, The Ocean at the End of the Lane. It really dragged me in and was a charming tale; I don’t think it’s a match for his other novels but it’s still an addictive read with some great characters and ideas.
And finishing that, which didn’t take long, meant I could finally read Shine Light, the third book in Marianne de Pierre’s Night Creatures trilogy. It took me a couple of chapters to get back into the world but once there the story moved along at a good pace. I thought I knew what was happening, then bang, something shifted dramatically and kept me interested. The ending seemed somewhat sudden in a way but with time I see it’s the right way.
Actually, before those two I finished reading another YA fantasy, Crewel by Gennifer Ablin. I was lured to this book by a moment of serendipity. I was doing NaNoWriMo and I read one of the pep talks, which was by Ablin; and I found it pepped me quite successfully. I switched tabs to Twitter after reading it and someone tweeted their review of Crewel. It seemed to me to be a sign, so I tracked it down on Angus & Robertson and bought the ebook.
Unfortunately, when I went to read it on my reader I found passages went missing between pages. It turns out that why A&R uses the epub file format, it formats the books specifically for the Kobo, which handles the whole reading experience differently to my Sony. So the only way I could read it was on my computer, using the A&R program. Which was okay but not something I’m keen to do often.
Anyway, while very YA at times and occasionally a little rough around the edges, Crewel is a truly fascinating story. It’s a dystopia with a difference as the world of the story, Arras , is wound by Spinsters – women with an ability to see the threads of reality and to manipulate them on special looms. It’s a great concept and the intrigues we’re drawn into make it well worth reading.
Speaking of ebooks, I’ve recently read the classic fantasy novel The King of Elfland’s Daughter by Lord Dunsany, a poetic tale of mundane meets faery, and Tim Powers’ The Anubis Gates, an interesting mix of magic and time-travel set, mostly, in 19th century London , with a detour to Egypt . Now I’m working my way through Emperor of Dreams, a huge collection of short stories by Clark Ashton Smith; brilliant. I’ll likely have more to say on them later.
For now, I think that’s your lot.
Keep dreaming.
I finally got through Clash of Kings – that’s Game of Thrones Season 2 for TV folks – and I’m looking forward to A Storm of Daggers. I also decided not to watch season 2 of the show; I watched season one and enjoyed it but it lacks some of the depth, the story is shifting away from the book and … I don’t need to see that stuff.
Finishing it opened the way for me to read Neil Gaiman’s latest, The Ocean at the End of the Lane. It really dragged me in and was a charming tale; I don’t think it’s a match for his other novels but it’s still an addictive read with some great characters and ideas.
And finishing that, which didn’t take long, meant I could finally read Shine Light, the third book in Marianne de Pierre’s Night Creatures trilogy. It took me a couple of chapters to get back into the world but once there the story moved along at a good pace. I thought I knew what was happening, then bang, something shifted dramatically and kept me interested. The ending seemed somewhat sudden in a way but with time I see it’s the right way.
Actually, before those two I finished reading another YA fantasy, Crewel by Gennifer Ablin. I was lured to this book by a moment of serendipity. I was doing NaNoWriMo and I read one of the pep talks, which was by Ablin; and I found it pepped me quite successfully. I switched tabs to Twitter after reading it and someone tweeted their review of Crewel. It seemed to me to be a sign, so I tracked it down on Angus & Robertson and bought the ebook.
Unfortunately, when I went to read it on my reader I found passages went missing between pages. It turns out that why A&R uses the epub file format, it formats the books specifically for the Kobo, which handles the whole reading experience differently to my Sony. So the only way I could read it was on my computer, using the A&R program. Which was okay but not something I’m keen to do often.
Anyway, while very YA at times and occasionally a little rough around the edges, Crewel is a truly fascinating story. It’s a dystopia with a difference as the world of the story, Arras , is wound by Spinsters – women with an ability to see the threads of reality and to manipulate them on special looms. It’s a great concept and the intrigues we’re drawn into make it well worth reading.
Speaking of ebooks, I’ve recently read the classic fantasy novel The King of Elfland’s Daughter by Lord Dunsany, a poetic tale of mundane meets faery, and Tim Powers’ The Anubis Gates, an interesting mix of magic and time-travel set, mostly, in 19th century London , with a detour to Egypt . Now I’m working my way through Emperor of Dreams, a huge collection of short stories by Clark Ashton Smith; brilliant. I’ll likely have more to say on them later.
For now, I think that’s your lot.
Keep dreaming.
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Considering Ibsen's Peer Gynt
Last year I planned to read 50 Plays and write a response to each one. I read far less than 50 and only wrote one response. But I figure I might as well share it with you so here it is.
Described as a play in five acts, Peer Gynt is very much an episodic narrative with the ongoing fantastic encounters of our ‘hero’ heading inexorably to the final conclusion where, Faust-like he gets an unexpected reprieve.
Structurally, the play can be divided more into three than five. The first three acts are adventures in Peer’s youth where he meets Solveig and culminating in his mother’s death; the two together seem to drive him to flee the country. The fourth act is a sample of Peer’s adventures overseas while the fifth act is his return home in old age and his attempt to run from fate (O Sinner Man, where you going to run to?)
The episodes in the first phase all follow on one after the other, but there are jumps in time thereafter, which seems slightly incongruous. I can see this play working better in three acts; condensing the first three and possibly expanding the last two.
In the end this is very much a moral tale but the moral is to be yourself, whatever your lot. Peer’s various adventures are driven by his desires but also by his willingness to mould himself to the situation. When mistaken for a prophet he becomes a prophet; when asked to be a troll he’s fine with that until he learns it’s forever and he can’t roam. Being trapped, or rather accepting his situation and living it, is something Peer is unwilling to do. He loves Solveig in a fashion but the permanency drives him away – especially without his mother to hold him in place.
The fantastic nature of the adventures and Peer’s willingness to accept them all without surprise drive the action on in an entertaining fashion. His justifications and swift about-faces also keep the tone light, with the lot of Solveig and Aase’s death the only real points of drama.
The fifth act has a more didactic feel to it than the first four as Peer’s life draws to an end and he must finally face up to who he is – which is no-one as he has never been himself. There’s a lot of moralising which slows it down somewhat, but the final few scenes with the Button moulder flow quite quickly and echo Everyman.
In all it’s a light entertainment that pushes a message too hard at the end when it might be better left to example. The structure could be greatly condensed to strengthen it and make the jump in time between Act 3 and Act 4 less jarring. I suppose interval would be had in between but the story should allow for no interval.
What’s noteworthy in light of my ideas of narration are Peer’s speeches between his adventures. These are again quite fantastical but he drives the creation of a whole world through his imagination. He becomes an emperor in his own mind or an historian who is again an emperor but through manipulation of history; trees take on different aspects, he becomes an onion he is peeling. The speeches are illustrative and symbolic and tell us as much of the real story and nature of the play as the scenes themselves.
Described as a play in five acts, Peer Gynt is very much an episodic narrative with the ongoing fantastic encounters of our ‘hero’ heading inexorably to the final conclusion where, Faust-like he gets an unexpected reprieve.
Structurally, the play can be divided more into three than five. The first three acts are adventures in Peer’s youth where he meets Solveig and culminating in his mother’s death; the two together seem to drive him to flee the country. The fourth act is a sample of Peer’s adventures overseas while the fifth act is his return home in old age and his attempt to run from fate (O Sinner Man, where you going to run to?)
The episodes in the first phase all follow on one after the other, but there are jumps in time thereafter, which seems slightly incongruous. I can see this play working better in three acts; condensing the first three and possibly expanding the last two.
In the end this is very much a moral tale but the moral is to be yourself, whatever your lot. Peer’s various adventures are driven by his desires but also by his willingness to mould himself to the situation. When mistaken for a prophet he becomes a prophet; when asked to be a troll he’s fine with that until he learns it’s forever and he can’t roam. Being trapped, or rather accepting his situation and living it, is something Peer is unwilling to do. He loves Solveig in a fashion but the permanency drives him away – especially without his mother to hold him in place.
The fantastic nature of the adventures and Peer’s willingness to accept them all without surprise drive the action on in an entertaining fashion. His justifications and swift about-faces also keep the tone light, with the lot of Solveig and Aase’s death the only real points of drama.
The fifth act has a more didactic feel to it than the first four as Peer’s life draws to an end and he must finally face up to who he is – which is no-one as he has never been himself. There’s a lot of moralising which slows it down somewhat, but the final few scenes with the Button moulder flow quite quickly and echo Everyman.
In all it’s a light entertainment that pushes a message too hard at the end when it might be better left to example. The structure could be greatly condensed to strengthen it and make the jump in time between Act 3 and Act 4 less jarring. I suppose interval would be had in between but the story should allow for no interval.
What’s noteworthy in light of my ideas of narration are Peer’s speeches between his adventures. These are again quite fantastical but he drives the creation of a whole world through his imagination. He becomes an emperor in his own mind or an historian who is again an emperor but through manipulation of history; trees take on different aspects, he becomes an onion he is peeling. The speeches are illustrative and symbolic and tell us as much of the real story and nature of the play as the scenes themselves.
Monday, 24 June 2013
Meeting my Childhood Princess
When I was a little boy I had a princess in just the same way other young children might have. She was beautiful and wore sumptuous gowns – sometimes – and at one point needed rescuing by a dashing young hero or three. But that wasn’t why she was a princess or at least why she was important to me.
You see my princess could look after herself and had sass. When someone told her they were going to execute her, she gave him lip. She fought her own battles, commanded soldiers and didn’t take crap from anyone. But she did all that without losing one iota of ‘femininity’. There is nothing ‘butch’ about Princess Leia.
So I grew up with a strong female hero figure every bit as cool as her male counterparts. Yesterday I got to meet, ever-so briefly, the real woman who brought that character to life and it was a wonderful experience. My own interaction with Carrie Fisher was very short, she got the photo I wanted signed, said my name as way of greeting/confirming I was the right person and we briefly chatted as she signed. She made an instant connection, made me feel worthy of being there and also moved me on quickly so she could meet the hundreds of people still in line.
As for her panel, she was funny, warm and insightful. She knew how much of a star she was to us but it didn’t go to her head, there was a distinct sense that she considered it all something fortunate that had happened to her, she landed a role she didn’t expect and became a super star she never thought she’d be and yes she had more than a few ‘issues’ – and she was very open about them – but she was no diva. Like her character, she may be called a princess and may earn our admiration but she doesn’t expect special treatment or talk like she’s above any one of us.
One bit of advice she gave in response to a question about creativity and mental ‘issues’ shall we say, was worth remembering – “It’s not about staying sane, it’s about finding our path through what we call ‘sanity’ and dealing with that as best we can.” That may not be verbatim but it’s close.
Possibly more importantly, she advised us all to have fun. She didn’t just say it, she was clearly doing it. Life had presented her with that moment and she grabbed it with both hands and enjoyed it to the full. Most importantly she advised to kill giant slugs at any given opportunity as killing Jabba had given her true happiness.
So I got to meet my childhood princess, and sure she isn’t Leia, but she was still the princess and meeting her was every bit the honour, not because she was in my favourite film franchise, but because of the woman she is. Thank you Carrie.
Keep dreaming – and kill a giant slug for happiness.
You see my princess could look after herself and had sass. When someone told her they were going to execute her, she gave him lip. She fought her own battles, commanded soldiers and didn’t take crap from anyone. But she did all that without losing one iota of ‘femininity’. There is nothing ‘butch’ about Princess Leia.
So I grew up with a strong female hero figure every bit as cool as her male counterparts. Yesterday I got to meet, ever-so briefly, the real woman who brought that character to life and it was a wonderful experience. My own interaction with Carrie Fisher was very short, she got the photo I wanted signed, said my name as way of greeting/confirming I was the right person and we briefly chatted as she signed. She made an instant connection, made me feel worthy of being there and also moved me on quickly so she could meet the hundreds of people still in line.
As for her panel, she was funny, warm and insightful. She knew how much of a star she was to us but it didn’t go to her head, there was a distinct sense that she considered it all something fortunate that had happened to her, she landed a role she didn’t expect and became a super star she never thought she’d be and yes she had more than a few ‘issues’ – and she was very open about them – but she was no diva. Like her character, she may be called a princess and may earn our admiration but she doesn’t expect special treatment or talk like she’s above any one of us.
One bit of advice she gave in response to a question about creativity and mental ‘issues’ shall we say, was worth remembering – “It’s not about staying sane, it’s about finding our path through what we call ‘sanity’ and dealing with that as best we can.” That may not be verbatim but it’s close.
Possibly more importantly, she advised us all to have fun. She didn’t just say it, she was clearly doing it. Life had presented her with that moment and she grabbed it with both hands and enjoyed it to the full. Most importantly she advised to kill giant slugs at any given opportunity as killing Jabba had given her true happiness.
So I got to meet my childhood princess, and sure she isn’t Leia, but she was still the princess and meeting her was every bit the honour, not because she was in my favourite film franchise, but because of the woman she is. Thank you Carrie.
Keep dreaming – and kill a giant slug for happiness.
Wednesday, 19 June 2013
I Write Like
I don't know how the site does the analysis but if you insert text you've written into it, it analyses it somehow and tells you what famous writer you write like. So I put the first page of The Scarlet Ring in and was pretty chuffed with the result. Here's hoping I get the success he's had.
Keep dreaming!
Keep dreaming!
Monday, 17 June 2013
Random Thesis Musing No 1
In her essay, On Ghosts, Mary Shelley laments the way the world is changing to a more rational, more understood and more linear place. The way the sun is known to be a star filled with gas as opposed to a mysterious orb that might be the chariot of a god, for instance. In this she neatly summarises a general feeling within the Romantic movement and with the Gothics in particular – that the new ways following the various revolutions at the end of the 18th century were potentially robbing us of our sense of wonder; hence the romanticising of the past and the insistence (at times) in the existence of the supernatural.
As progress has not slowed since that time it is little wonder these feelings have lingered and the rebellious medievalist spirit of the Gothics has continued in many forms of storytelling as well. But while mad monks, ghosts, mouldering castles and star-crossed lovers gave escape from the modernising of the world, Shelly went further and commented on the very progress she lamented in her essay.
In Frankenstein she inverts the supernatural threat by having the devils and monsters made by humans overstepping their mortal bounds as opposed to things beyond our mortal ken. In so doing she of course established an archetype and moved us closer to a genre which would become science fiction. Taking the novel with On Ghosts and her other major work, The Last Man, however we see a different tradition arise.
Shelley gives us a world we think we understand but do not. Her works threaten us with destruction because of this assumed knowledge and the failure to understand the greater mystery.
Taking this view, a new tradition can be seen to have risen from Shelley, one of a shrinking, rationalised world left at the mercy of the forgotten things, or inversely, the tragic lingering of the old ways against the rise of the new. The first half of this is best represented in HP Lovecraft’s Cthulu and Dream Quest stories, while the latter is seen in Michael Moorcock’s Elric saga. More recently, Tim Powers’ The Anubis Gates and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods combine both sides of the tradition.
As progress has not slowed since that time it is little wonder these feelings have lingered and the rebellious medievalist spirit of the Gothics has continued in many forms of storytelling as well. But while mad monks, ghosts, mouldering castles and star-crossed lovers gave escape from the modernising of the world, Shelly went further and commented on the very progress she lamented in her essay.
In Frankenstein she inverts the supernatural threat by having the devils and monsters made by humans overstepping their mortal bounds as opposed to things beyond our mortal ken. In so doing she of course established an archetype and moved us closer to a genre which would become science fiction. Taking the novel with On Ghosts and her other major work, The Last Man, however we see a different tradition arise.
Shelley gives us a world we think we understand but do not. Her works threaten us with destruction because of this assumed knowledge and the failure to understand the greater mystery.
Taking this view, a new tradition can be seen to have risen from Shelley, one of a shrinking, rationalised world left at the mercy of the forgotten things, or inversely, the tragic lingering of the old ways against the rise of the new. The first half of this is best represented in HP Lovecraft’s Cthulu and Dream Quest stories, while the latter is seen in Michael Moorcock’s Elric saga. More recently, Tim Powers’ The Anubis Gates and Neil Gaiman’s American Gods combine both sides of the tradition.
Sunday, 26 May 2013
Author Profile - Edgar Allan Poe
I’ve decided to start a series of author profiles. Not just any authors of course, but ones who have influenced me – positively – or that I’m interested in, intrigued by or who fit in the nebulous conglomerate of sub-genres I’m most ‘in’ to. So who better to start with than Edgar Allan Poe who is all those things?
It’s worth noting that in more recent times he would probably have been known as Allan-Poe as he adopted Allan into his name from his foster father who was a more positive role model than his biological one. So from the get-go Edgar had emotional damage and an alcoholic father. The course for this tormented genius was pretty much set from there.
I won’t get into his biography that can be found out easily enough if you’re interested. What I do want to talk about is his broad scope of influence. Some call him the father of modern horror, which is debatable but certainly he is best known for his macabre works. He’s also possibly the father of modern crime fiction, with his tales of ‘ratiocination’ as he called them seeing Auguste Dupin solving crimes through logical deduction years before Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes.
Moreover, aside from writing short stories and poems, Poe was talented editor and essayist. He had a passion for the facts and was sometimes in trouble for presenting them too harshly in the eyes of people involved. For instance, his logical mind saw him demonstrate Maelzel's Chess Player, which was supposedly a machine that could play chess, had a man hidden inside - this ruse had fooled thousands.
These aspects of his career have a great bearing on his fiction as well. His stories are filled with facts, at least as known to him at the time, which influence the narrative. Take Descent into a Maelstrom, which is about a ship caught in a giant whirlpool; alongside his evocative prose the tale details a means of escape then believed to be scientifically accurate. It’s since been debunked so if you’re in a maelstrom, don’t try it, but Poe couldn’t have known that.
His first major success, MS Found in a Bottle, also discusses a theory then believed to be true – that the South Pole would be ocean not land, again clearly no longer believed – all while dealing with a man alone on a ghost ship. And the level of detail in The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfaall are considerable. That story also bears the marks of the other overlooked aspect of Poe’s writing – his humour.
There’s no humour or indeed relief in his most macabre tales, his goal is to chill the reader and he typically succeeds. But in works like The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall or The Man Who Was Used Up, his humour is right at the fore, if somewhat droll. And of course what is now sometimes read as the story The Balloon Hoax was a hoax he wrote in one of his newspapers at the time.
These things went into his work, and his work went into the world’s consciousness and infused themselves into its literature. He’s influenced numerous writers across a range of fields and continues to do so today. So, gentle reader, I implore you, read more Poe.
Keep dreaming.
It’s worth noting that in more recent times he would probably have been known as Allan-Poe as he adopted Allan into his name from his foster father who was a more positive role model than his biological one. So from the get-go Edgar had emotional damage and an alcoholic father. The course for this tormented genius was pretty much set from there.
I won’t get into his biography that can be found out easily enough if you’re interested. What I do want to talk about is his broad scope of influence. Some call him the father of modern horror, which is debatable but certainly he is best known for his macabre works. He’s also possibly the father of modern crime fiction, with his tales of ‘ratiocination’ as he called them seeing Auguste Dupin solving crimes through logical deduction years before Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes.
Moreover, aside from writing short stories and poems, Poe was talented editor and essayist. He had a passion for the facts and was sometimes in trouble for presenting them too harshly in the eyes of people involved. For instance, his logical mind saw him demonstrate Maelzel's Chess Player, which was supposedly a machine that could play chess, had a man hidden inside - this ruse had fooled thousands.
These aspects of his career have a great bearing on his fiction as well. His stories are filled with facts, at least as known to him at the time, which influence the narrative. Take Descent into a Maelstrom, which is about a ship caught in a giant whirlpool; alongside his evocative prose the tale details a means of escape then believed to be scientifically accurate. It’s since been debunked so if you’re in a maelstrom, don’t try it, but Poe couldn’t have known that.
His first major success, MS Found in a Bottle, also discusses a theory then believed to be true – that the South Pole would be ocean not land, again clearly no longer believed – all while dealing with a man alone on a ghost ship. And the level of detail in The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfaall are considerable. That story also bears the marks of the other overlooked aspect of Poe’s writing – his humour.
There’s no humour or indeed relief in his most macabre tales, his goal is to chill the reader and he typically succeeds. But in works like The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall or The Man Who Was Used Up, his humour is right at the fore, if somewhat droll. And of course what is now sometimes read as the story The Balloon Hoax was a hoax he wrote in one of his newspapers at the time.
These things went into his work, and his work went into the world’s consciousness and infused themselves into its literature. He’s influenced numerous writers across a range of fields and continues to do so today. So, gentle reader, I implore you, read more Poe.
Keep dreaming.
Wednesday, 1 May 2013
Worthwhile Procrastination
Sometimes as a means of procrastinating I go to certain sites and look at free ebooks. I've downloaded a heap of books and short stories in the process many of which I'll never read but when the only cost is a click of the mouse and they take up no physical room and very little room in terms of file space I don't see the harm and those I do read are a bonus in many more ways than one.
I started off getting things by authors I knew or knew of and wanted to know - Wells, Verne, Lovecraft, Howard etc. But I found it took more time and was therefore a better form of procrastination to look into authors I'd never heard of before. As such I downloaded books that 'might be interesting'. Since doing that I've forgotten what most of them were and who the authors were too.
I have made some great discoveries this way though. Through a link I followed and a snippet someone had written about it I discovered Thomas Peacock's Nightmare Abbey, for instance. It's not what you might think, in fact it's open satire and quite droll at that. It's not even satirising Gothic fiction so much as society in Victorian England.
Currently I'm discovering The Lancashire Witches by Ainsworth. I'd forgotten this download entirely aside from the title being in my e-library. I didn't even know if it was a novel or some treatise on witchcraft in Lancashire. It's the former. A historical romance not unlike a Gothic romance, in fact very much like one.
So if you're going to procrastinate, make it worthwhile and get some books you never knew you wanted - or write a blog about doing it.
Keep dreaming.
I started off getting things by authors I knew or knew of and wanted to know - Wells, Verne, Lovecraft, Howard etc. But I found it took more time and was therefore a better form of procrastination to look into authors I'd never heard of before. As such I downloaded books that 'might be interesting'. Since doing that I've forgotten what most of them were and who the authors were too.
I have made some great discoveries this way though. Through a link I followed and a snippet someone had written about it I discovered Thomas Peacock's Nightmare Abbey, for instance. It's not what you might think, in fact it's open satire and quite droll at that. It's not even satirising Gothic fiction so much as society in Victorian England.
Currently I'm discovering The Lancashire Witches by Ainsworth. I'd forgotten this download entirely aside from the title being in my e-library. I didn't even know if it was a novel or some treatise on witchcraft in Lancashire. It's the former. A historical romance not unlike a Gothic romance, in fact very much like one.
So if you're going to procrastinate, make it worthwhile and get some books you never knew you wanted - or write a blog about doing it.
Keep dreaming.
Monday, 8 April 2013
The Next Step
As mentioned on my Facebook page, I recently finished the first draft of The Silver Ring. This is a completely unprecedented step for me. I’ve finished short plays, even fairly long plays, and I’ve finished short stories – but a novel is a whole different scenario. I have no methods for revising something this long. Which I admit is somewhat daunting, but also pretty exciting.
I know the story has some problems in terms of plotting. People are in one place when they don’t actually get there for several days. That came about because of the way I wrote the strands separately without detailed planning, so there’s a lesson for book two, keep a diary for every character so I know how many days they have to do things. Which is how I’m going to fix it; I’ll do a day-by-day account of events – and finally come up with fixed times for how long it takes to travel from one place to another. All of which probably should’ve been done before writing the first draft but yar, lesson learnt.
Once I figure that out I can shuffle bits around again and make any adjustments necessary. I already think one character will have to stay where she is and have something happen to her there because there’s no feasible way of her reaching the place where it happens at the moment in time. Which is annoying in a way, although just thinking about it as I write this I see a possibility. That could work …
Anyway, once the continuity is sorted I guess it’s just a matter of going over it with a fine-tooth comb, correcting the errors, tightening the language and losing the dross. Then comes the scariest step – letting someone read it.
Keep dreaming!
I know the story has some problems in terms of plotting. People are in one place when they don’t actually get there for several days. That came about because of the way I wrote the strands separately without detailed planning, so there’s a lesson for book two, keep a diary for every character so I know how many days they have to do things. Which is how I’m going to fix it; I’ll do a day-by-day account of events – and finally come up with fixed times for how long it takes to travel from one place to another. All of which probably should’ve been done before writing the first draft but yar, lesson learnt.
Once I figure that out I can shuffle bits around again and make any adjustments necessary. I already think one character will have to stay where she is and have something happen to her there because there’s no feasible way of her reaching the place where it happens at the moment in time. Which is annoying in a way, although just thinking about it as I write this I see a possibility. That could work …
Anyway, once the continuity is sorted I guess it’s just a matter of going over it with a fine-tooth comb, correcting the errors, tightening the language and losing the dross. Then comes the scariest step – letting someone read it.
Keep dreaming!
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Tasmanian Reading, Genre Issues & the Nature of Horror
Okay so I went away for a couple of weeks to explore Tasmania with my wife. I had hoped to do little entries here via the app, but very early on I realised mobile coverage down there is terrible in most places so it never happened. I did keep a journal however and I will sporadically type the entries up and post them here for those who are interested.
For now I just want to mention the reading I did while I was down there. The bulk of it was catching up on Nightmare Reader No 1 and the issue of Lightspeed Magazine I got as a bonus for backing Nightmare on Kickstarter (it was the October 2010 issue). I started with Nightmare and it was more than worth my paltry $3 pledge, which is a bad way of saying it was a solid literary journal with great stories. The one that’s stayed with me the most is Afterlife by Sarah Langan, which uses ghost children and ‘crossing over’ to present a tragic picture of very real woman whose non-supernatural plight was the genuine cause of distress if not horror.
Which leads to the interesting article at the back of the journal, The Other Scarlet Letter by RJ Sevin, discussing just what Horror is as a genre and why so many people shy away from the word. It essentially argued that the word has become tied to the schlock-horror side of the genre so people tend to assume anything else that might be described that way shouldn’t be. It made me think about how I view or have viewed Horror as a genre and I certainly used to connect it with schlock and gore; I only read my first Stephen King novel last year because to me he was the guy behind those B-grade movies I had no interest in seeing. How wrong was I?
I then moved to the idea that Horror was a strange subset of SF and Fantasy as any story within it would belong to one of them. This is further blurred by figuring out where the line between SF and Fantasy actually lies, sometimes it’s clear but others are almost indistinguishable. Hence Neil Gaiman can win major awards for all three genres for the same book. Genre is weird, and infallibly malleable. So now I tend to be a bit more open-minded on the subject.
After all, the stories in Lightspeed are technically SF but the ones in that issue had a bigger impact on me in terms of horror and mental disturbance than the actual horror stories in Nightmare. Particularly the reprint of Tight Little Stitches in a Dead Man's Back by Joe R Lansdale, which was a post-nuclear war story of a man wracked with incredible guilt featuring creatures that cross zombies with Triffids in that the plant kills you then takes over your body … yeah. It gripped me, with both hands and freaked me out. Then there was the man trapped in space forced to rationalise cannibalising his cryogenically frozen crew mates and so slowly went mad (in The Taste of Starlight by John R. Fultz). That was peculiar and chilling but his failure to even consider other options (there was at least one I can think of) weakened the whole impact for me.
On a completely different note the other thing I read during the holiday was JM Barrie’s play A Kiss for Cinderella, which I found at the Salamanca Markets for $2 (a 1937 hardback edition, $2, who was I to pass that up?) I wasn’t really sure what I was in for when I started it but I don’t think I was counting on it being as good as it was nor raising interesting questions in my head. I can’t even decide how to classify it, more problems with the whole question of genre.
It’s about a young woman in London during the Great War who is secretly looking after a group of orphans by scraping away and working at what she can. She’s one of those heart-of-gold waifs with an infectious charm that you expect from the man who gave us Peter Pan’s Wendy. She meets a policeman who is under the suspicion she’s helping Germans (only one, a four-year-old orphan so he doesn’t mind) and of course the two fall in love in that awkward Edwardian British way.
There’s a bit more to it than that including a delightful dream sequence where she fulfils her Cinderella persona, but I don’t want to get into the plot. The interesting thing for me was how Barrie had presented the script. It didn’t simply have dialogue and stage directions, it had narrative within stage directions so anyone reading the script is privy to information not presented to anyone merely watching a performance of it. We’re told of how the policeman met JM Barrie and discussed with him the question of true love for instance. We also understand why the dream sequence goes the way it does which would not be evident without his comments.
Of particular importance is the end however. It could be taken to be the expected happy ending but for one of these comments in the stage directions which is almost entirely ambiguous but seems to imply a very bitter twist to the whole thing. Which would give anyone mounting the play a big decision to make. It’s not a method I think I’ll ever employ but it’s certainly an interesting one and kept me thinking about something I might otherwise have glossed over as a light entertainment.
Keep dreaming!
For now I just want to mention the reading I did while I was down there. The bulk of it was catching up on Nightmare Reader No 1 and the issue of Lightspeed Magazine I got as a bonus for backing Nightmare on Kickstarter (it was the October 2010 issue). I started with Nightmare and it was more than worth my paltry $3 pledge, which is a bad way of saying it was a solid literary journal with great stories. The one that’s stayed with me the most is Afterlife by Sarah Langan, which uses ghost children and ‘crossing over’ to present a tragic picture of very real woman whose non-supernatural plight was the genuine cause of distress if not horror.
Which leads to the interesting article at the back of the journal, The Other Scarlet Letter by RJ Sevin, discussing just what Horror is as a genre and why so many people shy away from the word. It essentially argued that the word has become tied to the schlock-horror side of the genre so people tend to assume anything else that might be described that way shouldn’t be. It made me think about how I view or have viewed Horror as a genre and I certainly used to connect it with schlock and gore; I only read my first Stephen King novel last year because to me he was the guy behind those B-grade movies I had no interest in seeing. How wrong was I?
I then moved to the idea that Horror was a strange subset of SF and Fantasy as any story within it would belong to one of them. This is further blurred by figuring out where the line between SF and Fantasy actually lies, sometimes it’s clear but others are almost indistinguishable. Hence Neil Gaiman can win major awards for all three genres for the same book. Genre is weird, and infallibly malleable. So now I tend to be a bit more open-minded on the subject.
After all, the stories in Lightspeed are technically SF but the ones in that issue had a bigger impact on me in terms of horror and mental disturbance than the actual horror stories in Nightmare. Particularly the reprint of Tight Little Stitches in a Dead Man's Back by Joe R Lansdale, which was a post-nuclear war story of a man wracked with incredible guilt featuring creatures that cross zombies with Triffids in that the plant kills you then takes over your body … yeah. It gripped me, with both hands and freaked me out. Then there was the man trapped in space forced to rationalise cannibalising his cryogenically frozen crew mates and so slowly went mad (in The Taste of Starlight by John R. Fultz). That was peculiar and chilling but his failure to even consider other options (there was at least one I can think of) weakened the whole impact for me.
On a completely different note the other thing I read during the holiday was JM Barrie’s play A Kiss for Cinderella, which I found at the Salamanca Markets for $2 (a 1937 hardback edition, $2, who was I to pass that up?) I wasn’t really sure what I was in for when I started it but I don’t think I was counting on it being as good as it was nor raising interesting questions in my head. I can’t even decide how to classify it, more problems with the whole question of genre.
It’s about a young woman in London during the Great War who is secretly looking after a group of orphans by scraping away and working at what she can. She’s one of those heart-of-gold waifs with an infectious charm that you expect from the man who gave us Peter Pan’s Wendy. She meets a policeman who is under the suspicion she’s helping Germans (only one, a four-year-old orphan so he doesn’t mind) and of course the two fall in love in that awkward Edwardian British way.
There’s a bit more to it than that including a delightful dream sequence where she fulfils her Cinderella persona, but I don’t want to get into the plot. The interesting thing for me was how Barrie had presented the script. It didn’t simply have dialogue and stage directions, it had narrative within stage directions so anyone reading the script is privy to information not presented to anyone merely watching a performance of it. We’re told of how the policeman met JM Barrie and discussed with him the question of true love for instance. We also understand why the dream sequence goes the way it does which would not be evident without his comments.
Of particular importance is the end however. It could be taken to be the expected happy ending but for one of these comments in the stage directions which is almost entirely ambiguous but seems to imply a very bitter twist to the whole thing. Which would give anyone mounting the play a big decision to make. It’s not a method I think I’ll ever employ but it’s certainly an interesting one and kept me thinking about something I might otherwise have glossed over as a light entertainment.
Keep dreaming!
Monday, 28 January 2013
Childhood Inspirations - Part One
We recently rearranged some furniture and moved books around – including our collection of children’s books. Lots of gems in there. And it got me thinking about how if childhood is our most formative period – which it must be if you think about it – the books I most loved then must have played a role in who I am today, particularly in terms of my literary interests and practices. So what were they?
Early on I suspect the big names were Where the Wild Things Are, as discussed in a previous blog, and the Mr Men books. Particularly, Mr Nonsense, Mr Impossible and Mr Muddle … read into that what you will. And of course books like The Balloon Tree and There’s a Monster in my Bathtub – more the former – began to instil in me that sense of wonder beyond the ordinary world.
But when I think about this, which I actually do far too often, it always comes back to Hugh Lofting’s Doctor Dolittle. My mum had three old hardbacks: Dr Dolittle’s Post Office; Dr Dolittle’s Zoo and – my absolute favourite – Dr Dolittle on the Moon. I was absolutely captivated. They’re charming stories and the whole concept of the way the animals work together and communicate really captured my imagination. And any tale that includes a pushmi-pullyu has to be good doesn’t it?
I remember excitedly finding three more of his books in a second-hand bookstore. They were possibly my first exciting finds. And besides the wonderful animal characters and fun whimsical plot ideas, there’s the Doctor himself. A quiet man who loves animals and learning things and working things out who has wonderful adventures – without needing anyone else; I think that spoke to me too. It’s okay to be quiet and studious, and here in books wondrous things can happen and I could have the adventure too.
The other most important book in my childhood would have to be a collection of Greek and Roman Myths. They were written in an engaging way without too much of the overemotional complications and they stuck to heroes or warning tales like Arachne – no divine sexual exploits or matricides. I read that book multiple times and I very rarely read something more than once. Gods, heroes, evil kings, monsters … everything my imagination continues to play with today.
Of course, then came The Hobbit and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe which are discussed enough. Besides, while I loved both it was The Fellowship of the Ring a year later that really got me going. But, funnily enough, I didn’t read any of these till I was a teenager. Actually, I didn’t sit down and read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe till I was 21.
Which reminds me of the third and final book from childhood I’ll mention for now – The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I can’t remember if it was the first or second Narnia book I read, the other being The Silver Chair, but it was the one that truly got me. A voyage on the high seas encountering amazing creatures and battling evils, internally and externally (looking at you Edmund). And the magic … well, here was possibilities. Here was the land of faery.
I took that voyage, like I took the trip to the moon with a quaint vet who could talk to animals, and I’ve been voyaging off ever since.
Keep dreaming.
Early on I suspect the big names were Where the Wild Things Are, as discussed in a previous blog, and the Mr Men books. Particularly, Mr Nonsense, Mr Impossible and Mr Muddle … read into that what you will. And of course books like The Balloon Tree and There’s a Monster in my Bathtub – more the former – began to instil in me that sense of wonder beyond the ordinary world.
But when I think about this, which I actually do far too often, it always comes back to Hugh Lofting’s Doctor Dolittle. My mum had three old hardbacks: Dr Dolittle’s Post Office; Dr Dolittle’s Zoo and – my absolute favourite – Dr Dolittle on the Moon. I was absolutely captivated. They’re charming stories and the whole concept of the way the animals work together and communicate really captured my imagination. And any tale that includes a pushmi-pullyu has to be good doesn’t it?
I remember excitedly finding three more of his books in a second-hand bookstore. They were possibly my first exciting finds. And besides the wonderful animal characters and fun whimsical plot ideas, there’s the Doctor himself. A quiet man who loves animals and learning things and working things out who has wonderful adventures – without needing anyone else; I think that spoke to me too. It’s okay to be quiet and studious, and here in books wondrous things can happen and I could have the adventure too.
The other most important book in my childhood would have to be a collection of Greek and Roman Myths. They were written in an engaging way without too much of the overemotional complications and they stuck to heroes or warning tales like Arachne – no divine sexual exploits or matricides. I read that book multiple times and I very rarely read something more than once. Gods, heroes, evil kings, monsters … everything my imagination continues to play with today.
Of course, then came The Hobbit and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe which are discussed enough. Besides, while I loved both it was The Fellowship of the Ring a year later that really got me going. But, funnily enough, I didn’t read any of these till I was a teenager. Actually, I didn’t sit down and read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe till I was 21.
Which reminds me of the third and final book from childhood I’ll mention for now – The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. I can’t remember if it was the first or second Narnia book I read, the other being The Silver Chair, but it was the one that truly got me. A voyage on the high seas encountering amazing creatures and battling evils, internally and externally (looking at you Edmund). And the magic … well, here was possibilities. Here was the land of faery.
I took that voyage, like I took the trip to the moon with a quaint vet who could talk to animals, and I’ve been voyaging off ever since.
Keep dreaming.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
Brief recount of last nigh
I have some posts planned for here so expect a bit more activity in coming weeks. But for now I just want to quickly mention last night. I went with my lovely wife to see Neil Gaiman at the City Recital Hall. It was a fun and inspirational event as he read from two forthcoming books and generally said entertaining things. Fourplay was also in attendance and played a couple of tunes - including the Doctor Who theme - and also accompanied Neil as he read one of the books. They also accompanied him as he sang the FireballX5 theme song which was fun.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the main novel he read from and we luckily got a sample to keep. It's an adult novel but the narrator is remembering events from his childhood so there's a mix and young feel. There's no mistaking the sense of dread floating over the black humour and jokes about burnt toast. The first three chapters have definitely got me hooked, bring on June and the full release. In the meantime ...
Keep dreaming.
The Ocean at the End of the Lane is the main novel he read from and we luckily got a sample to keep. It's an adult novel but the narrator is remembering events from his childhood so there's a mix and young feel. There's no mistaking the sense of dread floating over the black humour and jokes about burnt toast. The first three chapters have definitely got me hooked, bring on June and the full release. In the meantime ...
Keep dreaming.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
New Start and Thanks
So it's back to work tomorrow and hopefully that will also mean getting back into the swing of things in general. After the success of November, December was ... well it was mostly a write-off. But, new year, new start.
The only other thing I really have to say at the moment is thank you. Yes, you reading this. Thanks for reading this. Thank you everyone who showed support for me last year and is continuing to do so now. This year I aim to give you all something more to show for it. Watch this space.
Till then - Keep dreaming!
The only other thing I really have to say at the moment is thank you. Yes, you reading this. Thanks for reading this. Thank you everyone who showed support for me last year and is continuing to do so now. This year I aim to give you all something more to show for it. Watch this space.
Till then - Keep dreaming!
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