Author Archives: ogresan

Unknown's avatar

About ogresan

Richard Parks' stories have have appeared in Asimov's SF, Realms of Fantasy, Fantasy Magazine, Weird Tales, and numerous anthologies, including several Year's Bests. His first story collection, THE OGRE'S WIFE, was a finalist for the World Fantasy Award. He is the author of the Yamada Monogatari series from Prime Books.

It’s Always the First Time

Posted on by

It’s windy and blustery, raining off and on and looks a lot like November came just a tad early. Probably perfect for the horror movie crew doing location shots downtown for the next couple of days. It’s good writing weather, even if there are outside tasks waiting. In these conditions? They can keep waiting. Possibly until spring.

So what has a weather report to do with anything? Well, as I said, it’s good writing weather, so when I get done with this blog I get back on the third story in the adventures of Jing, Pan Bao, and Mei Li. Sometimes writing is easy, like pulling the bung on a full barrel and the words just gush out. Other times it’s more like trying to squeeze the last few drops from a sponge. Usually you can’t tell which is which when it comes time for the end result to be examined. Unless we haven’t done our job well, and then you can. Our bad, not yours.

Writing, it seems, can be “like” one thing or another, but what it cannot be is any particular thing more than once. Or, to fall back on the old Zen adage, “It’s always the first time.”

One wouldn’t think so. After all, I’ve written two other stories about these characters. Surely I have a handle on their world and these specific characters by now? Doesn’t feel that way, and that’s a fact. I’m still discovering facets of Mei Li’s doubts and insecurities even as they do not turn her from her ultimate goal of becoming human just so she can die as one and move on to the next karmic step. I’m only beginning to understand how the loss of her mother forced Jing into adulthood before she was ready. Even Pan Bao, that grumpy, mercenary yet pious Daoist priest, has facets to his character only now starting to be revealed. In short, I know how to write the last two stories because I’ve already done them. That doesn’t tell me how to write this one, only getting it done, working it out, will do that. And leave me totally unprepared for the next one, whatever that turns out to be.

I’ve heard variations on the novelist’s complaint before: “I don’t know how to write the next novel. I only know how to write the last one.” As someone who does both novels and shorter fiction, I can personally attest that this applies equally to both. Or as a predecessor once phrased it: “Writing is one of the few avocations which, if diligently practiced, becomes harder the more you do it.”

Doesn’t matter how many books/stories you’ve written. It’s always the first time.

 

Story Time: Kallisti

Posted on by

Maybe I’m a Discordian* at heart. Also an Animist with a little Buddhism and Southern Baptist thrown in. None of which is a contradiction when we’re talking about chaos/disorder in general, which is probably why, of all the Greek Gods, Eris, Goddess of Discord, has always been a favorite of mine, if one could be so presumptuous as to pick favorites among mythical deities without inviting at least a metaphorical thunderbolt. One shouldn’t take such things lightly, after all. There are all sorts of thunderbolts.

I’ve written two stories featuring Eris. A revisit of Eris’ role in the Judgement of Paris,  “Kallisti” was first published in Realms of Fantasy back in 2002 and later reprinted in the collection Worshipping Small Gods in 2007. With the passing of Realms the second remains in my files until the right market appears. Or until I lose patience and do it myself. Probably even money on which occurs first.

 

Standard Reminder: “Kallisti” will remain online only until next Wednesday, November 1st, 2017.

*Discordianism. If you’re not an old-school fan, Google is your friend.

 

Do You Have the Time?

Posted on by

Sorry I’m late. Regular readers know, as a rule, that the blog goes live on Monday, and it is now Tuesday, and not even very early on Tuesday. Since we moved to New York state, as also some of you may know, we’ve been working on our new house, as well has having work done. I don’t claim to be the handiest fellow on the planet, but there are things I can do, and things I can’t. One thing I believed I could handle was the sun/mudroom, our three-season room that had sheetrock but no paint, window trim, or flooring. Its turn came at last so I’ve been working on that for the last few weeks, including rain delays, trying to get things finished before winter (the room may be indoors, but table saw, miter saw, and router are strictly outdoor critters which don’t take kindly to being rained/snowed on.) Anyway, to cut to the chase, the room was finally finished on Sunday, but in getting it done we had put off several errands that needed doing. That was Monday pretty much all day.

So here I am on Tuesday with a long, boring explanation of why this is going up Tuesday and not Monday. Also to talk a little bit about time management. Most of us who write do not have either the privilege or obligation of writing full time. Most of the time that I’ve been writing it’s been something I’ve squeezed in around all the other obligations of my life, mostly working for my actual living but not confined to that. Pretty much the same story as anyone else in my situation. We find a way, though having a regular schedule for most life events helps. At least that way you know what time might be available to you and you take it. In those situations your primary requirement is either being alone or having a very understanding spouse, significant other, or partner, because you will likely be taking time from those with a legitimate claim on that time.

I’m embarrassed to admit that, so far this year, I’ve only written two complete stories, “In Memory of Jianhong, Snake-Devil” and “On the Road to the Hell of Hungry Ghosts.” What’s more, I have absolutely no idea how I did even that much. I haven’t had a regular schedule since we moved here and I went into semi-retirement. Before I would have written in the evening after most of the day’s obligations were done, but redoing a house mostly on our own has been very demanding, and by evening almost all I’ve been good for is taking a nap, listening to music, or playing a bit of Skyrim. Now that the house is mostly done, this has to change. Whether or not I’ll have further work obligations is yet to be determined, but I still have this one obligation to myself that isn’t being met. I just have to find the time. We all do.

Story Time: Courting the Lady Scythe

Posted on by

Today’s Story Time is “Courting the Lady Scythe,” which first appeared in Ekaterina Sedia’s anthology, Paper Cities: An Anthology of Urban Fantasy in 2008. The anthology won a World Fantasy Award for the editor in 2009.

This story is set in the same universe as A Warrior of Dreams. Like any decent universe, there’s more that goes on beyond what you see in the main storyline. There are legends and fables and cautionary tales, and this is one of those. Which one is something you’ll need to decide for yourself.

Standard Reminder: “Courting the Lady Scythe” will be online until next Wednesday, October 25th. After that, there will be something else in its place.

 

 

Review: Tales of Falling and Flying by Ben Loory

Posted on by

Tales of Falling and Flying by Ben Loory, Penguin Books, 2017

I picked up Tales of Falling and Flying on the recommendation of Jeffrey Ford. Since I’d also discovered the weird and wonderful Strange Tales From a Chinese Studio from the same source, I was more than inclined to give this one a try, and was definitely not disappointed, especially in the weird and wonderful department. Tales of Falling and Flying excels in both categories.

At first glance, this looks like a collection of short stories. Once you’re into it, that perception gets stretched a bit, or at least mine did. Not that the tales within ran roughshod over classic definitions of a short story. I mean, they were about something. They had a beginning, middle, and end in the sense that they started somewhere, went somewhere, ended somewhere. It’s those “somewheres” that need a bit of a mental adjustment.

Take for example, the very first piece in the book, “The Dodo.” I’m just going to quote the opening line: “Once there was a dodo, and he died with the rest, but then he suddenly got back up again.” So what does a dodo who should be dead but isn’t do? If you guessed “Get forced into an identity crisis because he’s alive but all the dodos are dead, therefore everyone says he can’t possibly be one,” then you have the idea. Or consider “The Sloth,” which features, yes, a sloth, one who decides he doesn’t really want to hang around the jungle eating leaves and decides to go to the city and get a job.  What sort of job is there for a sloth in the big city? It takes the sloth a while to find out, but the answer follows very reasonably from what the sloth discovers in his search along the way. Or “Death and the Lady” where a woman goes to church and discovers Death sitting next to her, and if you think you might know where that particular story is headed, you’re both right and very wrong. If I had to pick one, I’d likely say that was my favorite, which is silly because you don’t have to pick one. The very idea is limiting.

One thing I can confirm is that there will be tales of “falling and flying.” Along the way the reader could be forgiven for thinking she was reading a book of special kinds of stories called parables, deep into double meanings and lessons and metaphors and whatnot. But then you hit a story like “The Ostrich and the Aliens” which, in its own metafictional way, pokes fun at the very idea. So maybe they’re not parables, or perhaps they are, or some of them, and I found myself thinking about each one even while I was reading it. Normally that sort of thing kicks me right out of a story, but not in this case. The stories invite a bit of consideration. Invite? Say rather they demand it. As for classification, well, I can’t speak for other readers, but after a while I stopped worrying about that and just gladly went wherever Loory was going. Plenty of time later to think about where that was. No conclusions yet, but I’m still thinking.

Which is just about the highest compliment I have to give.