Literary movements come and go. “New Wave” was a little before my time, but I can remember Cyberpunk, Splatterpunk… I was associated briefly with “Crackerpunk” by virtue of 1) being a Southerner and 2) writing sf/f, but no one (including especially its proponents) took it very seriously and it went away quicker than most. Now we are within a period with a feast of Movements: Slipstream, New Weird, Interstitial, New Romantic Underground, New Space Opera, Mundane Science Fiction, Mannerpunk, and I’m sure I’m missing some. It is a time for Manifestos and Movements because, as China Mieville once pointed out, “Manifestos are fun.” Seems like the right attitude to me, from the pov of someone invariably on the outside looking in where these things are concerned. Continue reading
Category Archives: Reading
So Who Wants to Know?
The topic came up elsewhere and got me thinking of the infamous Author Bio-Blurb. You see it in books, sure, but those of us who write short stories as well, or even primarily, have to deal with it too and a lot more often. I know. It’s really a sort of “high-class worry” to people who haven’t sold at all or barely. “Writing author blurbs is hard? My heart frickin’ bleeds for your anguish.” I’ll grant you, the first few are kinda fun. Then you’re selling maybe five or six stories or more every year, year after year, and it’s become a chore.
“Again, my heart frickin’ bleeds—“ Continue reading
Playing Fair
I know I’ve talked about this before, but now and then I read something which shows me plainly that not everyone got the memo. I can just about understand it. Playing fair sounds almost quaint, doesn’t it? So 20th or even 19th century. Certainly everyone already knows that life itself isn’t fair, to which I can only say “Hallelujah!” Let’s be honest, here–most of the time life’s unfairness actually works in our favor. Or as Shakespeare nailed it some years ago, “Use every man after his desert, and who shall ‘scape whipping?” Yet fair play is alive and well in one place at least–the act of writing. It has to be. Readers will put up with a great deal, but one thing they absolutely will not forgive is cheating. Continue reading
Word of Podcast
If you’re interested in the sf/f field in general, the SF Signal web site is probably already familiar to you. This week they’ve put up one of their regular podcasts, this time a panel discussion on the state of the Swords & Sorcery (S&S)subgenre and where the genre is at the moment, (Episode 108): 2012 Sword & Sorcery Mega Panel Part 1
. Panelists were:
Lou Anders is the editor of Pyr Books, Scott Andrews is the editor of Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Violette Malan and James Sutter are authors, Jaym Gates and Patrick Hester are the SF Signal podcast moderators. Besides being an interesting discussion in itself for anyone even remotely interested in the subject (and I’m looking forward to part 2), it was interesting to me personally because my name came up several times as a modern S&S author in connection with the Lord Yamada stories.
I can see it. For one thing, as subgenres go, S&S is pretty mecurial. Any subgenre that can encompass at various times Robert E. Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, Fritz Leiber, C.L. Moore, Joanna Russ, G.R.R. Martin, and Michael Moorcock, has to be a bit of a moving target. For another, at various times in my development I was very deliberately writing S&S. For one thing, I went through an early phase where I didn’t read much else. For another, when I was first trying to break into the fantasy magazines (all maybe three of them at the time), S&S was in the ascendant, as hot or hotter than Steampunk is now. I wrote a fair bit of it, and apparently I still am.
I’ll grant you, I wasn’t thinking of Yamada as S&S when the series first came to me. I had him envisioned more as a Heian-era noire detective, sort of Sam Spade with a tachi. He quickly grew past that limited conception, and thank heavens for that, but the tone remained that of a generalist fantasy with mystery overtones. And yet the stories still easily fit under the S&S umbrella. I hadn’t thought of them that way, but it’s true, and perfectly fine with me.
Categories aside, I think this is the first time that my name and work has come up in a podcast that wasn’t a podcast of one of my own stories. Getting a reminder now and then that other people do read and like what you do doesn’t entirely suck.
In Which I Diss Zombies
I’m having a bit of an internal monologue, which I’m going to share here in lieu of actual content. Sometimes I have to think about these things, whether there’s any good reason to do that or not. My thought for today is a mediation on why I’ve never written about zombies.
Yes, why? Good question, and I’d like to thank me for asking it. Not that I have a good answer; I don’t fully understand my motivations for doing or not doing anything. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s for the same reason I have never written a story about werewolves or unicorns: they just aren’t very interesting. Ok, I know that some people who read here are very fond of zombies and/or werewolves and unicorns, so before you get the knives out, let me explain: They just aren’t very interesting. ‘Kay. Now you can get the knives out.
Is there a point buried in this pile of nonsense somewhere? No promises, but maybe I can borrow a few knives to dig it out, as we seem to have a few handy. I could dwell on why zombies aren’t interesting–there’s the lack of complex motivation (ala Romero) or the lack of any higher brain function (ala traditional). Scary? Sure. Horrifying? You betcha! Interesting? Not so much. Yet I know that these are simple rationalizations after the fact. It’s perfectly possible to write a zombie story where neither of those restrictions apply, just as it’s quite doable to write a good werewolf or unicorn story. I’ve read a few. One or two I’d rate as classics in the field, so it can be done and has/is being done. Just not by me.
Why? They just aren’t very interesting.
And here we are again. It’s not even that, as subjects, they’re pretty cliché. Subjects become cliché for a reason, and just because their ubiquity level has been raised to cliché it does not mean that new and interesting work can’t be done. As penance for my lack of appreciation, I will now inventory fantasy clichés in my own work:
- Fairies/fey? Check.
- Vampires? Only twice, but check.
- Dragons? Multiple offenses.
- Witches/Wizards? Ditto.
- Sphinxes? Yep.
- Ancient Gods/Goddesses? Darn right.
- Demons? Uh-huh. Just ask Yamada.
- Monsters? Duh.
- Ghosts? All the time, and Eli Mothersbaugh’s specialty.
- Deal With the Devil? And proud of it!
- Mermaids? Of course.
- Personifications, as in Death or Fate? Guilty.
Let’s face facts here—anyone who’d willingly write a “Deal with the Devil” story is capable of anything. So why no zombie, unicorn, or werewolf stories? They just aren’t – [Visual of the blogger being whapped on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. Heaven knows where they found one] Besides being painful, that interruption reveals the true answer. Why no zombie, werewolf, or unicorn stories? Because there aren’t any, as in “aren’t any rattling around in my brain.” No matter how many times I turn the notion in my head, it just comes back to this. I’ve already talked about recognizing a story when you see one, and this is the real reason I’ve never done unicorn stories or zombie stories or werewolf stories–I just don’t recognize anything relating to them as a story. It’s really as simple and ungrammatical as that. The fact that I don’t find them interesting is effect, not cause. I haven’t had a zombie or unicorn or werewolf story to write. In the case of the unicorn, I can’t see the point. Until and unless I come up with something that is at least as interesting to me on a story level as Peter Beagle’s The Last Unicorn or Theodore Sturgeon’s “The Silken Swift,” the subject is a closed door. If I ever do get such a notion, the door will spring open and I’ll find that particular subject is as interesting as anything I’ve ever written about and I’ll eat whatever steaming plate of crow is required. Will it happen? Dunno. I’d say it’s even odds. But until then, “They just aren’t–”
[Whoosh] Ha! Missed me!