Quote for the Day

A day will come when hate-'em or love-'em legends will die. But until then, we'll have Harlan Ellison:

On his unfinished work

"My wife has instructions that the instant I die, she has to burn all the unfinished stories. And there may be a hundred unfinished stories in this house, maybe more than that. There's three quarters of a novel. No, these things are not to be finished by other writers, no matter how good they are. It could be Paul Di Filippo, who is just about the best writer in America, as far as I'm concerned. Or God forbid, James Patterson or Judith Krantz should get a hold of The Man Who Looked for Sweetness, which is sitting up on my desk, and try to finish it, anticipating what Ellison was thinking -- no! Goddammit. If Fred Pohl wants to finish all of C.M. Kornbluth's stories, that's his business. If somebody wants to take the unfinished Edgar Allan Poe story, which has now gone into the public domain, and write an ending that is not as good as Poe would have written, let 'em do whatever they want! But not with my shit, Jack. When I'm gone, that's it. What's down on the paper, it says 'The End,' that's it. 'Cause right now I'm busy writing the end of the longest story I've ever written, which is me."

*sigh*

Quote for the Day

From Rochita Loenen-Ruiz (expatriate Filipina writer in the Netherlands who's been to the Clarion workshop) guest-blogging at Jeff Vandermeer's site, "Finding our stories":

I think then of how speculative fiction is the perfect genre for people like me who exist in the interstitial spaces. I wonder to what extent the diaspora and the experience of being in the diaspora has awakened fantasists and dreamers. I wonder how many of us read and write science fiction and fantasy because we see not only this country of the present, but also because we are still caught up in the country of our memories, even as we move towards the country that we hope to find ourselves in.

Quite serendipitous, given that I'm coming out with an SF anthology on the diaspora.

Drive-By Quotes

New wonder-boy Junot Diaz has a great essay on persevering (or giving up-- same coin, different sides) with your writing.

You see, in my view a writer is a writer not because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, because everything she does is golden. In my view a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.

It's a fascinating view though I must admit I did feel weird that I was actually reading the online version of Oprah's magazine.

In other news, Guy Gavriel Kay cites the "literary vs. genre" wars that's going on internationally. See! We're not the only ones who keep on going about the same things over and over again?

We'll find ourselves working away from category and genre debates and toward the question worth asking about any novel: Is it any good? Currently, cute labels like "magic realism” are attached to fantasy books in order for the Mullans of this era to safely declare literary worth and admit them into the sanctum, but this, too, shall pass, just as hunting season does in France.

If not, we can always go back to that classic argument by two intellectual giants:

"Duck season!"
"Wabbit season!"
"Duck season!"
"Wabbit season!"
"Duck season!"
"Wabbit season!"



... And we all know how that ended.

The Things We Keep Behind: The Color of Sky

Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

John Donne, Holy Sonnet 14

The Things We Keep Behind: These Are Days

Our destiny is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.

Jorge Luis Borges, "A New Refutation of Time" (1946)

Are You Really Listening?

Think you can't discuss something with another person because of the tone of the message? Here's something interesting I read over the on-going war of "Genderfail":

Someday people will figure out that the proper response to controversial suggestions made in an angry or snarky tone is to address the suggestions and either don’t address the tone, give it much less text, or address it in a different post. The tone argument wouldn’t be so annoying if its makers would stick to having one post for “your tone is wrong! catch more flies with honey! MLK is more well known than Malcolm X!” &c. and another post for actually addressing the substance of the argument. But when people address the one and not the other? It looks like a derailing tactic (which, you know, it is).

Really, if tone is what the argument is all about, I can actually shut down everyone I talk to with the coup de grace that is: "I don't want to talk to you. I don't like your tone." BA-DA-BING, BA-DA-BOOM.

You can read the discussion from which I sourced the quote here:

Money Quote for the Week

From Jeff Vandermeer's post on the Ethical Treatment of SF, read the comments where he says:

I have a theory that writers should not join organizations with other writers. I.e., we are cogenitally incapable of not eventually appearing to be absurdist or to be participating in some kind of cosmic metafiction when we do form organizations.

So very true. And Felix Gilman is one funny guy.

Sympathy for the Devil

(Picture from here.)

I've just read a small excerpt by the criminally underrated hard-SF writer Peter Watts and I am simply in awe of him. In his post, Watts takes one of my favorite SF movies, the John Carpenter-helmed The Thing (based on the short story "Who Goes There" by John W. Campbell), and tries to give us the side of the alien creature. See the excerpt below:

Evolution simply can’t happen here— or if it does, it can only happen at the level of the entire offshoot. But how could anything keep up with a changing environment in such microscopic increments? The tiniest adaptation would take aeons.

Impossible.

And yet. If my own senses haven’t betrayed me completely, these somatic iterations— Clarke, MacReady, Garry— they’re not offshoots at all. They’re individuals, locked within themselves. Not a single great world but many small ones. Not parts of a larger thing; these are things.

They are plural.

Fantastic reading and Watts adds intention, context and biology to the alien. It's a fascinating look at how a strange being like The Thing could think if it could think like us.

Obviously, writers giving voice to the monsters of our imagination is nothing new. John Gardner did the same to Grendel, the black nemesis of Beowulf. Fred Saberhagen did likewise for Dracula. But it doesn't matter: Watts still rocks for possibly giving one of the great alien movie monsters a human soul.

Now if only someone did something similar with the black-carapace, acid-blooded Alien (though obviously they're hive-minded).

The Root of the Word

Here's an interesting money quote about Stephen King's latest collection:

The literary critic Leslie Fiedler, in an interview given a few weeks before he died, recalled telling a group of postmodern fiction writers, “Look, let’s be frank with each other: When all of us are forgotten, people will still be remembering Stephen King.” Anyone who claims to be interested in contemporary American literature needs to understand what he’ll be remembered for.

A timely reminder when we think of the word, 'criticism.'

Just so People Will Know...

...Yes Virginia, there is speculative poetry. As wikipedia states,

Speculative poetry is not defined by form, unlike most sub-categories of poetry. speculative poets work in the full variety of forms available to all poets; what makes speculative poetry speculative is generally the subject matter, though some poets have approached their speculation on a language level, experimenting with possible future or alien dialects and the like.

In the US, there is a speculative poetry association (SFPA) that was formed in the '70s, a major award (Rhysling) with a number of recognizable awardees (Ursula K. Le Guin and Gene Wolfe) as well as writers (Ray Bradbury and Thomas M. Disch).

As spec fic poet Bruce Boston states,

Speculative poetry can be seen as a subset of genre poetry. Its origins can also be linked to science fiction, fantasy, or horror. Beyond that, the similarities begin to fade. Poems worthy of being called speculative may be clever, but wit is not their aim. They may be narrative, but they are not about storytelling. Nor do they deliver singular resolutions and conclusions. Speculative poetry is about suggestion; it is elusive and rich in allusions; it functions at multiple levels; it may sometimes appear opaque until you give it a deserving read. Unlike most genre poems, speculative poetry does not use language to communicate in a strictly literal way, but recognizes the analogical quality of language, the play of words, the connections and contradictions inherent in sounds and meanings. It takes words beyond themselves, beyond their literal definitions, and whether its syntax is simple or complex, rhymed and metered or free verse, it understands how to make language not only speak but sing.

But don't take my word for it (as I have neither head nor heart for poetry). Check out this poem by one of my favorite writers, Theodora Goss. Here's another one by Sonya Taaffe.

(Ironically, a lot of ramblingsoul's poems have that same texture of a spec fic story, leading me to believe that though our friend has gone on to greater days with poetry, his heart is still with spec fic. And though it could be said that his poems AREN'T spec fic, who da fuck cares? I like them just the way they are.)

Reading as a Religion... Or Faith?

I like this thought in fantasist Daniel Abraham's post about plot:

One of the books I’ve read since the Symposium has shed some light on this. Compte-Sponville’s Little Book of Atheist Spirituality. He talks in that about one of the competing etymologies for “religion” being related to a word that meant “to reread.” The stories that we go back to again and again develop a depth and a power, or (in this case) a genre. If mystery novels are retelling the story of sin uncovered and romances are retelling the story of lovers kept apart by fate overcoming it (if it’s Pride and Prejudice) or dying in the attempt (Romeo & Juliet, Love Story), then maybe the farmboy and the regreening of the world aren’t as far from each other as it seemed to me at first.

The etymology of religion meaning to 're-read'? Priceless. (Especially this interesting study of the idea here.) The whole post is also great reading as it involves Joseph Campbell's Journey of the Hero, etc.

Qui sibi semitam non sapiunt, alteri monstrant viam.

In other news, here's another 15-minutes. It's a sequel of sorts, and a tribute to a lost friend.

For Those Who Want to Write for a Living

Here's an interesting tip from Nick Mamatas on how to freelance:

If you follow the conversational pattern I've laid out above, and actually manage to do the work on time (of utmost importance) and very well (of secondary importance -- complete, mediocre, and on time is better than perfect and late), you will start receiving more solicitations and become a good freelancer. Good enough to start turning down solicitations after the first couple dozen or so. If you do not follow the conversational pattern I've laid out above, but instead make one of the rhetorical errors I've discussed, you are telling the person at this crucial point one thing and one thing only:

"No thanks, I'd rather die in the gutter."

Read the whole post. It's great reading. And given that I'm now on the other side of hiring, it's so damn right.

Nothing Personal

After a great talk with ramblingsoul, doug, and [identity-protected] last night at Mag:net Katipunan, I came across this quote from a Salman Rushdie interview at the Guardian which I thought was serendipitous:

I may not like the things you believe and, by the way, the fact that you believe them makes me think less of you as a person. I may despise you personally for what you believe, but I should be able to say it. Everybody needs to get thicker skins. There is this culture of offence, as though offending someone is the worst thing anyone can do. Again, there is an assumption that our first duty is to be respectful. But what would a respectful cartoon look like? Really boring! You wouldn't publish it. The nature of the form is irreverence and disrespect.

Quite apt, I would think, given the fatwa pronounced on Rushdie.

Why We Like Bears

I was talking to doug candano a couple of weeks back at Route 196 and we got to mentioning some of our favorite writers. Though doug's taste is in a different reading field altogether, he's not ignorant of the fantastical (not fantasy, mind) with Angela Carter, Steven Millhauser, Italo Calvino and Jorge Luis Borge.*

One of the books he recommended to me was Dino Buzzati's The Tartar Steppe. Curious, I did a google-check on the latter and found out he had also written The Bears' Famous Invasion of Sicily. Now, this book rang a bell in my head: whether as someone's recommendation online, a book I saw on the shelves or even a dream I had, I'm not sure. But I figure, what's not to like about a book that has bears invading a part of Italy, an army of boars, talking cats, and what-not? And this quote by Buzzati is quite endearing:

It seems to me, fantasy should be as close as possible to journalism. The right word is not "banalizing", although in fact a little of this is involved. Rather, I mean that the effectiveness of a fantastic story will depend on its being told in the most simple and practical terms.

Check out that great cover. And yes, the categorization is a children's book hence the introduction and end notes by Lemony Snicket (and the question remains if Snicket is writing or is being written).

This is one reason why I like finding out about writers (whether fantasy or fantastical) I normally wouldn't have known about and why I try to read outside the genre (and outside the area of North American or British Isles for that matter) when I can.

Anyone else have recommendations or suggestions? Here's a quid pro quo: I once suggested for dean a very fine book in Orhan Pamuk's My Name is Red. A murder-mystery novel that gives a look at Istanbul in the late 16th century, I'm still savoring the wonderful writing of this one chapter by chapter. (And if you've paged through this book, you'll know what I mean by chapter.)



*Ironically, I also have this interesting bibliophile habit of selecting only one work from each great literary writer. For Carter, I've picked The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman, for Millhauser it's Edwin Mullhouse: The Life and Death of an American Writer, from Calvino it's Invisible Cities, while with Borges, it's Labryinths (unless I have a different book altogether).

It's something to do with me looking over the shelves of bookstores as a child and some book titles sticking to my mind until I was older. Weird, I know.

Question Everything! (Or, Life Lesson#3,467)

From abi sutherland of making light, something important that everyone should take to heart, whether in politics, art or work and school:

We love heroes and leaders, from Alexander the Great and his iconic descendants to Captain Kirk and his. Whether real or fictional, they stretch the bounds of the possible. They show us a world where our fears don’t limit us, and inspire us to try to live there.

The problem is that great leadership is about more than “the vision thing” or being “the Decider”. A poor leader can sound like a great one by choosing a direction and sticking to it, counting on his “will” to carry him (and the people following him) over the obstacles that they encounter. And if the obstacles are small and their momentum great, that is all that’s needed. But that doesn’t make him a great leader. That makes him lucky, and luck runs out.

What a real leader needs is people who disagree with him. I don’t mean the needlessly contrary, the ornery and the difficult. I mean people who share his ultimate goal, but whose job and passion it is to pick holes in his plans to get there in order to improve them. Sometimes that’s the loyal opposition; sometimes it’s the court jester. Sometimes it’s citizens exercising their First Amendment rights. Sometimes it’s me.

...

This mindset never earns... anyone who questions a leader’s vision, many friends. In the public sphere, where motivations are part of the discourse, it is taken as evidence of bias and a reason to ignore any inconvenient views.

...

But I believe that those of us who question leaders, who look for failures and are only reluctantly convinced of successes, are important. We can stop a bad idea before it becomes a bad plan, a bad product, a bad policy. I think we need more people like that in the wider world, whether it be consumers adopting a security mindset or citizens questioning government officials.

Food for thought.

Dating in the 21st Century

Since Valentine's Day is coming up, here's something funny from ben peek. It involves what not do when you have a cell phone, a girl you've just met, and too much time in your hands.

To quote:

Everyone knows sending pictures of your cock is a second date thing.It's in the Boy Handbook. It clearly says in chapter two, that in the event that some way to transport images of your erect penis is fashioned in the future that you are not to send them until a second date has taken place.Also that second date......would you stop waving the PhoneCock in my face.

Go read it, think about how dating more has changed a lot, and then have a good laugh at an idiot's expense.

(Now if I can only get the nerve to order peek's books-- actually, anyone's books-- online.)

Paste on Forehead While Reading/Writing

From Jeff Vandermeer, a comment that's quite pertinent whenever one of those 'elite' vs. 'lowbrow' conflicts erupt again:

Personally, I think it’s unwise to dismiss so-called “high-brow lit crit”. It’s also unwise to dismiss so-called “entertainment.” (As pointless as both terms are, because they are too general.) The wise writer assimilates and uses all of this stuff. The whole point is to keep achieving mastery and to keep achieving mastery (because you can never really achieve mastery, just acquire new tools and insights toward mastery).

Of course, Vandermeer's opinion about the whole divide can be parsed better in this essay he wrote for Clarkesworld magazine. Good points there also.

Overall, this is one reason why when Vandermeer recommends a book, I usually check it out because I know he can recommend both good genre and non-genre books. For such examples, check out the mainstream and genre books he cites at the end of the said essay.

Watts Does the Thing

Er, what I meant to say was that one of my favorite SF authors Peter Watts did a post on one of my favorite SF movies of all time: John Carpenter's remake of The Thing (1982). Go read it for its fascinating scientific analysis of the shape-shifting creature.

We tamed our inner battles using stem cells and transient cells and differentiated tissues, just like Pepper et al. hypothesise. But maybe other worlds spawned other answers. Maybe whatever alien slime mold gave rise to our Antarctic shapeshifter decided to go with the whole cell-competition thing, decided to make it a solution instead of a problem.

(Hell, I didn't even know the Carpenter movie was a remake of another movie made in the 50s, which was based on the 1940s story by John W. Campbell, "Who Goes There?" But I digress.)

And to prove that Watts is really cool, he posted a great SF cat picture from I can haz cheesburger. Hmmm, that's two cat pictures already and it's only January. Do I have a quota on this blog?

Guess which movie this came from? *winks*

Life's Like That Also

Writer-extraordinaire and all-around nice guy Neil Gaiman likens writing to Coyote:

Sometimes making stuff up feels a lot like Coyote* running across the empty space between one rocky pinnacle and the next, and as long as you keep moving you're fine. When you stop and look down, it's suddenly all too apparent that there's absolutely nothing underneath and that you're keeping in the air by a peculiar effort of will.

And then a good day comes, and you start running through the air once again, and, if you're smart, you resolutely don't look down.

(* Wile E, or the American Indian one who created the world.)

Ironically, that's the image on my mind constantly nowadays.

(And just to bug people, I'm selling copies of PSF volume 3! Buy now! Buy now!)

Which Do You Like?

From Locus magazine's reviewer, Gary Wolfe:

Literary Standards, as a general rule, don't work. From an author's point of view, you can't very well go back and put them in once you've finished the story (though I've heard of student writers trying to this); for editors, they make for unwieldy and imprecise calipers, far less useful than Market Standards; for readers-- well, there's the real problem. Which readers? Those who peer at the ingredients labels, looking for vitamins like characterization, style and structure, or the sensualists looking for flume rides and eyeball kicks, or, at least in our little corner of the map, the epistemological adventurers, who lust after conceptual breakthroughs the way the sensualists lust after disrobings?

That's one way of putting it, if I understand it correctly. I know it's a lazy man who constantly boxes in and categorizes everything in sight, ironic given how speculative fiction never likes coloring within the lines. Still, the above phrase struck me as particularly useful given how I think it's only in speculative fiction that the last category becomes pertinent.

For example, one non-fiction book I've been reading for the past couple of years now is Lewis Hyde's Trickster Makes this World. Despite the slowness of my reading, I'm enjoying my time learning how the Trickster mythos has eased into your collective minds. And each time I dip into it-- no matter how long since my last read-- I'm constantly bombarded with possible story ideas that I have to put it down to think about it. I'm fascinated by the central idea of the trickster figure.

On the other hand, everyone has read at least one vampire story, right? However, it's the new oft-told trope retold that captures my attention, which is why I really appreciate vampire stories like Richard Matheson's I Am Legend (not the movie) and Steven Niles' and Ben Templesmith's 30 Days of Night (both the comic and the movie), which I recently watched.

See, it's the newness that makes the whole world spin for us adventurers.

So really: if we put it another way, when you read a story, do you like storytellers, illuminators or toymakers? And if you're a writer, which one are you?