Deja Vu All Over Again

Faulkner-Wall-NotesSome thoughts triggered by the Nightshade Books edition of the collected letters/correspondence between H.P. Lovecraft and Donald Wandrei, and something aside from HPL’s questionable attitudes for the moment. Rather, this is about something we share as writers.  Now, it’s true that modern sf/f/mystery writers sometimes lament the passing of the old “glory days” of the pulps. We imagine a sort of golden age when people read instead of playing video games or zoning in front of the television, and there were literally hundreds of potential markets. We conjure by those ancient tomes: Weird Tales, Argosy, Amazing Stories, Black Cat, et many a cetera. While the pay wasn’t great except in the slicks, a person with a good work ethic could make a decent living writing short stories and novel serials and little else. And, I admit it, I’ve been guilty of looking backward with rose-tinted glasses myself, even though I know making that living required soul-crushing hackdom and turning out product by the ream. It’s nostalgia for a time I never knew and thus tends to ignore all the horrific truths of living in that time; it’s not supposed to be accurate.

Still, sometimes a little reality is a good thing, and while reading these letters now the thing that strikes me most–at least so far as it concerns the writing life–is how little short story publishing has really changed since 1927. Back then they were wondering why the editor bought this story instead of that one, bemoaning the absence of editorial judgment, bitching about late payments and the lack of good markets, and wondering if that last rejected story really did get all the way to the editor or was bounced by some nameless and clueless summer intern. Heck, I see the same conversation on writers forums every week. If anything is different it’s the ease and ubiquity of self-publishing, and the fact that doing it yourself sometimes even makes sense. Not always, no, but sometimes.  Yet back then there were likewise arguments for it, but it was a lot harder to do and a great deal more expensive. So in that way, perhaps, things really have changed. Everything else? Not so much.

Lost and Found

Fantastic StoriesContinuing with the purge and pack up, and in the process of cleaning out the closet in the library, I came across an unmarked box. Inside were several things I thought I’d thought gone forever, namely my accumulation (I wouldn’t dignify it as a collection) of digest magazines from the late 1970’s. It was originally much larger, but I’d reluctantly purged it during one lack of space or other. In my faulty memory I thought I’d purged them all. There are several AMAZING STORIES from the period, and even a COVEN 13, but I was especially glad to see the FANTASTIC STORIES from Ted White’s editorship. FANTASTIC was the first fantasy magazine I ever discovered. More to the point, I soon realized that there were such things as writers who sent them stories. I soon became one of them. I never did sell to Ted White, and by the time I sold one to his successor, Elinor Mavor, FANTASTIC had been folded into its sister magazine, AMAZING. Yes, I know. Just a second tier digest back in the days of ANALOG/ASTOUNDING and GALAXY, but there was something about the stories there that appealed to me more.  I still regret that I wasn’t good enough soon enough for FANTASTIC, but I remember what I was shooting for.

No sooner had I turned in the final manuscript of THE WAR GOD’S SON to Paula at Prime than I got an email from Audible.com telling me that the audiobook version is already going into production. I don’t know yet who’s doing the narration, but it should be out at the same time the print and ebook versions are available, still officially set for October. Which should happen on time, since the book is being typeset even as I write this.  Not much longer now, people. If/when there’s a link for pre-orders, I’ll post it here.

Year’s Best Science Fiction & Fantasy 2015

rh-ybsff2015Friday’s mail brought my contributor’s copies of Rich Horton’s Year’s Best Science Fiction & Fantasy 2015. I’m in there with “The Manor of Lost Time,” which originally appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies. The book also has stories by Robert Reed and Kelly Link and Jo Walton and Elizabeth Bear and Yoon Ha Lee and Ken Liu and Cory Doctorow and…well, you get the idea. Lots of people. It also includes a summary of the year and a recommended reading list, in all 575 pages packed. You could do worse.

I heard back from Paula Guran at Prime Books that the revisions to The War God’s Son are good and therefore complete, and it’s off for a final copyedit and typeset, so we’re on schedule for the October release. I’ve also been admonished to get started on the next one which, assuming I can get myself together, will be out in 2016. The revisions to Power’s Shadow have run into the same delay that’s put pretty much everything on hold, but I’m hoping it won’t be too much longer.

The downed tree has been removed and we’re still getting our house ready to sell. Besides boxing up our lives we’ve been painting for the past week. Also sniffing a lot of paint fumes, though not by choice. It’s all part of the process.

Back to Press, and the Great Cleanup

Step4-YamadaFirst off, I got the news a few days ago that Yamada Monogatari: Demon Hunter is going back to press. This makes the third printing. Not too shabby for a book that is, in essence, a themed collection.

Just in time for the 4th, what should appear in my inbox but the copyedited version of the third book in the series,  Yamada Monogatari: The War God’s Son, which both Prime Books and Audible Books are waiting on. Oof. It did remind me of why I usually don’t show first drafts to anybody. It appears that there are certain words and phrases I’m waaay too fond of. “That” is one. There are others. Lots of them. Paula Guran at Prime pronounced the manuscript “structurally perfect,” but stylistically? Not so much until I clean up some of this. Okay, a lot of this. We suffer so that you don’t have to.

Well, not much in the way of suffering, really. While I am embarrassed by some of my writing quirks, re-reading the book in the process is reminding me of how pleased I was with it, overall. Not “satisfied,” because one never is, but pleased none the less. Coming back to it cold after this time away I’m a little relieved to say that I still like it, and maybe some of you will too. It moves Yamada’s story arc forward quite a bit. Plus you get to meet Yamada’s elder sister.

The great file purge is still in progress. I was one of those sods who held onto everything: rough drafts, rejection letters, correspondence, contracts…keeping the contracts, naturally. And some of the correspondence. The rest is either tossed or put through the shredder, depending. It wasn’t as depressing as if could have been, especially when I was reminded of who rejected what story, and with hindsight could either see that they were right or “You passed on that one? WTF were you thinking?”

My shelves are almost bare. Most of my books are already packed away, minus the ones I’m debating whether or not to keep. I hope I won’t need any of my references for a while, though I do need some information on Empress Sadako for the next project. Which I need to get busy on. Which has to wait for the current revisions to be done.

Which means back to work.

Review–Proteus in the Underworld by Charles Sheffield

WRITING 02Originally appeared in Science Fiction Age, May, 1994.

Proteus in the Underworld, by Charles Sheffield, Baen Books, 299 pages

Proteus in the Underworld is the latest in Charles
Sheffield’s Proteus series.  For readers–like me–who discovered
this series late, it’s set in a future where a delicate balance
of hardware, software, and bio-feedback allow human beings to
transform themselves into a nearly infinite variety of
alternative physical forms.  This has allowed humanity to adopt
specialized forms suited to almost every solar environment from
Mars to Saturn to the Oort Cloud.  It also has extended human
life spans, nearly eliminated disease and deformity and rendered
cosmetic surgery both obsolete and superfluous.

Note the emphasis on ‘human.’  Only human beings have proved to
have the required combination of intelligence and will that
allows them to interact with form change machines and the
bio-feedback that is at their heart.  This truism has been
formalized as the “humanity test,” and all children of a certain
age have to pass the test or be sent to the organ banks.  For a
test with such potentially dire consequences to be acceptable it
has to be objective, accurate, and foolproof.  So when several
so-called “feral forms”–little more than mutated monsters–born
in the outer solar system pass the humanity test handily but
prove to be neither human nor even sentient this presents a
problem.

Sondra Wolf Dearborn is the agent of The Office of Form
Control assigned to find the solution.  Sondra has little field
experience and is in over her head.  She’s smart enough to know
it and seeks help from her distant relative, the nearly legendary
Behrooz “Bey” Wolf.  Bey wolf is the retired former head of the
Office of Form Control and a master of form change theory and
practice.  He’s the perfect choice, only Bey Wolf is busy now
with his own private research and has no intention of being drawn
back into the problems and politics of his old department.
Of course things don’t work out that way.  The mere fact
that Sondra contacted him at all sets in motion a chain of events
that draw them both deeper into the mystery of the feral forms,
and the onion layers of conspiracy within conspiracy that are at
its heart.  Soon everyone from the Old Mars Policy Council to
Gertrude Zenobia Melford, head of the powerful Biological
Equipment Corporation and the richest person in the solar system,
are after Bey Wolf’s services.  It doesn’t take a genius of Bey
Wolf’s caliber to see that something odd is going on.  Just what
that is and the mostly separate paths Bey Wolf and Sondra
Dearborn take to piece the mystery together is at the heart of
this book.

There’s another emphasis.  Mystery.  Despite the sfnal
trappings I think the book also qualifies as a
mystery novel, in that the central puzzle is the driving force
behind most action.  Charles Sheffield is a working scientist and
his affection for ideas and speculation shows clearly in this
book–his design for a form-changed human who can survive on the
surface of Mars is as neat a bit of speculation as you’ll
find–but here most of that serves as foundation for what is
essentially a mystery plot.  At one point Robert Capman, a
form-changed human living on Saturn, goes so far as to inform
Sondra that “…Based upon what you have told me and what I have
told you, you have enough information to complete without
assistance from anyone the task assigned to you by the Office of
Form Control.”  Shades of an Ellery Queen episode.  “If you’ve
been watching–closely–you have all the clues you need” is how I
remember it, but the challenge is the same, for Sondra and the
reader.  The information is there–solve the mystery.

This isn’t a condemnation by any means.  Such cross-overs
have a long and distinguished history and if genre cross-over
leads to the kind of literary diversity that the genetic kind
creates in the biological sphere, I’m for it.  The only question
remaining is how well this particular example works.

Pretty well, I think.  One slight problem I had with the
book was in Sheffield’s handling of point-of-view.  Scenes that
were told from one POV sometimes had little asides that were
clearly not from that character’s viewpoint.  It tended to jar.
The story flow was strong enough to keep me going, but it would
have been a nicer trip without those little bumps.  I also wish
he’d spent a little more time showing the effect of the
form-change technology on day to day life, but the book’s focus
is clearly elsewhere.  The author’s interest is on the big
picture consequences of the technology, and that perspective
forms part of the denouement of the book.

Though it takes a little time for someone new to the series
to absorb the background, Sheffield makes it painless enough,
filling in what history is needed when it’s needed.  Someone
already familiar with the series would doubtless have hit the
ground running.  Sheffield also manages to include a few
interestingly oddball characters along the way, though it’s no
surprise that he’s at his very best when depicting scientists
happily working within their chosen specialties/obsessions.

It may be a stereotype that readers of hard sf like good ideas
better than good characters, but there’s enough of both here for
balance.  There’s also a neat little tag at the end that’s not so
much a twist as an implied promise.  I don’t know where or if
Sheffield plans to go with it, but I admit it–I’m curious.
Which may be the point.