Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter — Update

We’re still on track for a February release, and so far everything’s looking great. I’ve been in the loop on the cover design progress, and we’re close to having a final. When that’s done I plan to post some of the preliminary images to show what changes/refinements a cover might go through before it’s ready for–pardon the expression–Prime time. But we’re not quite there.

For now, and knowing that there will be readers who haven’t a clue who Lord Yamada is, this is a working draft of a proposed introduction. It may and likely will change a bit before it goes live, but this is the gist:

“This book is about a man named Yamada no Goji and set during a time in ancient Japan now known as the Heian period. Although the term is derived from the capital city during the era—Heian-kyō (modern Kyōto)—the word heian simply means means “peace and tranquility.” In comparison to the later feudal era of Japan, when the rise of the samurai class meant every two-bit lording and their armies were at each others’ throats, the word is probably appropriate.

A time of learning, great poetry, and literature, the Heian period (794 – 1185) is rightly considered Japan’s Golden Age, at least for the upper classes, but they had their problems:

Demons. Ghosts. Monsters.

While the political situation was relatively stable, the spiritual universe of Heian Japan was in the grip of powerful supernatural forces, most of them malicious and all extremely dangerous. That’s where Yamada no Goji comes in. A minor aristocrat from a nearly extinct clan, he has no property and no family connections. What he does have is a sharp sword, an even sharper mind, and a willingness—if the price is right—to use both to take on any monster the Heian underworld can throw at him.

“Monogatari” just means “story” and this is Yamada’s story, or at least part of it. I originally envisioned him as a sort of Japanese Sam Spade. That original tone is clearest in the first section, “Fox Tails.” But, as characters often do, Yamada had his own ideas about that. Still, that’s where it all started, and that’s where this book starts. Where it ends…well, I hope you’ll enjoy finding that out for yourself.

—Richard Parks”

It’s Not Complicated

Recently I was reading an account of a roundtable discussion by some writers and critics on the nature of certain genres, among other things. It was a fairly interesting discussion in itself, but that’s not what got my attention. It was this offhand remark made by one participant, with no special argument or justification, as if it were a done deal: “Good books are complex.” If I’m being vague on the source, that’s because it doesn’t matter. I’ve seen this same attitude in enough other places to know it’s a common one, and likewise applied to a lot of fiction of less than novel length. Of which, I….well…

RANT MODE ON.

Excuse me, but that deal’s a looong way from done. I’m not going to be dogmatic and say what a good book has to be, but I know one thing it doesn’t have to be, and that’s “complex.” Is A Wizard of Earthsea complex? Firelord? Our Lady of Darkness? Ulysses? (Ok, I’ll grant that the last named is a confusing and often difficult book, but complicated? Not especially). Deep? Yes. Nuanced? Certainly. Ambitious? Most definitely. Complicated? No. Which is perfectly fine with me, because I do not accept the premise–complexity is an attribute of a particular work, not a virtue. If the best expression of a work requires complexity, then by all means it should have it, but let’s face facts here–if complexity was the prime virtue, or even a virtue, then a book of scripts from your average soap opera would have swept the Nobel Prize in Literature long before now.

I ran into the same sort of thing when I was listening to a band of Taiko drummers not that long ago. Rhythms in sync with the human heartbeat, drum music in the key of life. I later mentioned to a friend how much I’d enjoyed the concert, and got this response– “I can’t get into Taiko. Latin rhythms are much more complex and interesting.” Now, arguing in matters of taste (de gustibus, anyone?) is a waste of pretty much everything, but to priviledge one form over another primarily on their relative complexity, and again to my way of thinking, is missing the point in grand and glorious fashion. I also think it reveals a persistent strain of unconscious intellectual Calvinism–nothing can be worthwhile unless it takes a long time and is very hard to do. You know, as if your corn’s no good unless you first had to roll the boulders off your field, and then plant with a pointed stick (oh, in my day we used to dream of pointed sticks!).

Good books and stories like good music can be complex, but that’s either a consciously chosen technique or just an attribute of the way a particular writer works. Good fiction, imo, tends to have some common traits such as depth, and emotional and intellectual honesty, and are almost always about more than they appear to be about on the surface, all of which means they generally stand up to re-reading better than lesser work. But complex? A book isn’t good unless you need a flowchart to follow the plot? Your themes have to have themes? Complexity a virtue? Clarity the enemy?

Codswallop. With a side of liver and onions (because it’s good for you, dammit!).

RANT MODE OFF.

For now.

Bits of Pieces

This is going to be a sort of general update post. It’s not that a lot is happening, but some things are happening, things that, for a change, don’t have a lot to do with the daily grind of getting all the things done that I have to get done before I can do the things that I wanted to do in the first place. If you understand that—and I’m betting that most of you do—you’ll get how even a few changes can nudge the needle past So? all the way to Hey! Worth Noting.

First of all, after floundering for a bit (okay, five months), I’m starting to make some headway on the sequel to Black Kath’s Daughter. I still have a long way to go, but forward motion, believe you me, is an improvement. And if everything works out the way I think it’s going to, I’ll finally make a proper connection between the Amaet who was the bane of Tymon’s existence in The Long Look with the Amaet who is the creator of The Arrow Path and the bane of Marta’s existence in Black Kath’s Daughter. And vice versa, truth be told. The working title is: Power’s Shadow. Subject to change, being a working title and all.

The Yamada novel (To Break the Demon Gate) is still on track at PS Publishing for release early next year. So is the Prime Books collection of Yamada stories, Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter. One interesting thing when working with a smaller publisher is that sometimes you actually have some input into the cover design. Not always, but sometimes. I found the image we used for the first mockup of the Yamada collection, but the consensus (and I agree with it) was that it was both too modern and too “horror.” Yes, there are demons in the Yamada stories (and ghosts, and youkai, and…well, lots of such things, and anyone who’s read them knows that already) and they can be dark at times, but definitely not horror, so that’s not going to work. We’re still looking for something with the right atmosphere, and finding just the perfect thing is going to be tricky. When the cover is set I’ll put it up here as soon as the publisher okays it.

A couple of final notes—“In the Palace of the Jade Lion” from Beneath Ceaseless Skies #100 got a Recommended from Rich Horton in the October  Locus Magazine. It’s not as if that’s the first time I’ve gotten one, but it’s always cool. And the most recent Yamada story, “Three Little Foxes,” is due to go live up at BCS in the next few days. I’ll post a link here when that happens.