How I Spent my Evening

I worked last night and part of today on reformatting my Taleran books from Times New Roman 14 to TNR 12, which is the font that my prospective publisher wants to see the books in. The good news you can take from that is that he wants to look at all three.

I usually write in TNR 14 because it's easier for me to read on the screen. Of course, it fills up more pages, which would be of concern to any publisher. Changing the font should have been as easy as hitting select and apply, but on my computer (an possibly on everyone's) changing from 14 to 12 point occasionally breaks a paragraph in mid line. It doesn't happen very often but just enough so that I have to scan the whole manuscript fairly carefully to catch it. That takes a while when you're working with manuscripts of 68, 71, and 72 thousand words respectively.

And, of course, since I am pathologically incapable of leaving anything that I've ever written alone, I made a few minor changes here and there. Plus, I also caught a few errors, like failing to capitalize "Luna" and somehow inserting an extraneous word in one sentence. Those are just ones I caught on a quick scan, so I'm sure there are other errors as well. I thought about giving the whole trilogy a reread but I'm afraid I'd introduce as many new errors as I would catch and correct old ones.

No manuscript is ever perfect, I keep telling myself. Let it go. Release. Release.

Well, maybe just one more time through.

Out of the Fog

I've awakened each of the last three mornings to find eerie wisps of white curling through the trees around our house. And droplets of mist cooled the glass of our windows. It brought a delighted shiver.

I've always loved fog. For whatever reason, it fires my imagination and simply makes me feel...good. But I didn't see much fog while living in the city. Now that I'm out in the country I'm getting a daily dose and I'm enjoying it immensely.

Of course, one wonders what else the fog might bring besides its cool touch and mists. One wonders. And that's half the fun.

Instant Email Gratification

I've already heard back from the publisher who I sent the query to about the Taleran books. He wants to see the first in the series, so I'll send that off to him today. It's like putting one's child up for a beauty contest, I guess. I'm a little nervous. I wish he'd asked to see all three, although I didn't really expect him to. The problem is that the first Taleran book was written in the early 1980s and was the second novel I wrote. The other two were written in the late 90s and early 2000s and benefited from my increased experience. Certainly, Swords of Talera has been rewritten several times, and I'm proud of it, but it really is not quite as good a book as the second and third ones in the series. I think I'll just tell him that in the cover letter and let the chips fall where they may. Because it's a series, the first one needs to be published. And I personally think "Swords" stands up pretty well against the first books in other Sword & Planet series. Of course, it doesn't really matter what I think.

Sword and Planet

I have a Sword & Planet fantasy trilogy that I'd like to see in print. Sword & Planet is one name for a genre that pretty much began with Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars series. The basic premise is of an earthman transported to an alien planet where he must use his strength, wits, and a sword to survive against alien warriors and amid exotic alien women who seem better able to appreciate him than did the women of Earth. To me, it's just the most fun genre to read and write in, and I wish more of these types of books were being published.

My planet is called "Talera," and the trilogy consists of Swords of Talera, Wings Over Talera, and Witch of Talera. The first two were published as magazine serials, and the last was written for the same magazine, which unfortunately folded before it could see print. It would be nice to see the three of them in paperback.

Last night I started working on a query letter for the trilogy to a small publisher. I should get that finished today and email it off. Wish me luck.

Fiends By Torchlight

I've mentioned Wayne Allen Sallee here before. Well, Wayne's new book, a collection of his short stories, is now out. It's called Fiends By Torchlight, and I had the lucky opportunity to "preread" a few of the stories. There's some great stuff here. I highly recommend it. If you're interested, check it out at Annihiliation Press.

The Green Clods of Home

Hydroseeding! It sounds like something you'd do while terraforming Mars. Well, we had it done yesterday to our yard in Abita Springs. Now the mud (soil to some people) that was hauled in two weeks ago is...green. The landscapers came in yesterday with a tank of stuff, filled it up with water from our well, and sprayed it like a thin film of paint across our yard. They tell us we have to keep it damp, and that in a week or two we will start to see a green fuzz sprouting. I'll be glad to see that. Right now it looks like the kind of mold you'd find on some unrecognizable product that you left in the refrigerator a year or so ago.

I was thinking last night of how I've always wanted to be involved in a terraforming project. But now I'm starting to wonder, and the wondering is tinged with fear. What if the fuzz that sprouts isn't green? What if it's...red, like the Martian plant that nearly took over the earth in War of the Worlds? What if the guys who came to our house weren't really guys? What if this is the opening salvo in a new war? What if I awaken one night to a crimson yard of tiny screaming Martians? or? What if I don't awake? What if you don't?

Hydroseeding anyone?

The Work Goes On

In the past few days I’ve been getting a lot of non-fiction done. I’ve finished my next column for The Illuminata and will email that off today. I’ve rough drafted two more columns that I won’t worry about polishing up at present. They won’t be due until a couple of months down the line. I’ve also been working on a grant proposal in collaboration with a colleague at Xavier University, and that just got sent off this morning. Now we’ll see if I can get some time for fiction.

Strange Days

We are experiencing an unusual fall this year. I’m not talking about the weather, but about the fact that the New Orleans Saints are winning. They are 3 and 0, and this week they won their first game on Monday Night Football since 1992. The Saints are traditionally not fast starters. Nor are they strong finishers. In fact, they are, traditionally, not very good at all. They’ve won exactly one playoff game in their history, which dates from 1967, and other than a few years in the early 90s under coach Jim Mora, they’ve actually posted very few winning seasons. Understandably, there is quite a bit of football excitement right now in the city that care forgot. There is also quite a bit of skepticism. The Saints have broken the fan’s hearts before, so many of us are not yet ready to hand them the keys to the city. Still, wouldn’t it be grand? Could we have a great season? Could we get TWO playoff victories? Or, dare we consider it, a Super Bowl trip?

No. NO! I say to myself. Don’t give in to hope. Don’t….give…in….AARRGHHH!

Writing in Season

It’s late September and finally starting to cool off here in southern Louisiana. By cool off, I mean it’s dropping into the high 60s / low 70s at night and not climbing much above the mid 80s during the day. But even in this faux fall I’m finding my energy levels for writing starting to surge. It has always been this way for me. I write better when it’s cool, and better yet in the dead of winter when the world is quiet and lies waiting for spring.

Something in winter has always inspired me, and I believe it has to do with the edge of melancholy emotions that is wetted in me by the first seasonal chill. I’m not sad, not depressed. I’m merely a little more open to the darker emotions and darker thoughts that come creeping in with the cold northern winds.

Such observations of own productivity have led me to wonder if other writers have similar, or different, experiences. Anyone care to weigh in?

Criticism and Writers

When you read a book that you don’t like, how comfortable do you feel in criticizing the writer’s abilities in a public forum? I don’t mean in what you tell your best friend who is thinking about reading the book, but in what you put down in your blogs or in a review on Amazon. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. When Lin Carter was still alive I was perfectly comfortable in referring to him as a hack. I have even been known to criticize the characters of one currently famous author, whose name I won’t mention except to say that it’s Stephen King, as being stereotypical.

I don’t feel the same way anymore. As a writer myself, I now know how much it hurts to get criticism on something you worked very hard on. And I can see how comfortable most people are with giving out such criticism. Writers, like actors and politicians, are public figures, and the public can be rabid in expressing their like or dislike. But writers, and even actors and politicians, are also people. They have feelings, and most of them are probably trying their best even if their best isn’t very good.

I find these days that I tend either to avoid criticism of living writers (dead writers are another story), or I leave out the names and focus on the writing problems themselves. For example, I won’t review a book on Amazon that I don’t care for, even though I read plenty that aren’t very good. If I mention a writing problem in my Illuminata column I usually leave out the writer’s name.

Sometimes I wonder if this is not cowardice. Shouldn’t I speak the brutal truth and let the chips fall where they may? Well, I don’t think of myself as a coward, and here’s why. If I’m writing a review that I’m paid for, I tell the honest truth as I see it, and I don’t pull punches although I may seek for wording that is less than brutal. However, no one is forcing me to accept review assignments of material that I don’t like. So, I find that I turn down assignments that would require me to really blast a writer’s ineptitude. When it comes to Amazon reviews, which are unpaid, then I figure I can do whatever I damn well please. And in my own column I can choose to leave out an author’s name if I want as long as I don’t cheat my readers of the “lesson” to be learned in the column.

Finally, of course, criticism is merely an opinion. Too often I have found myself loving a book that a friend of mine hated, or hating one that he or she loved. Criticism can be informed or uninformed, but it can’t be “right” or “wrong” in any objective sense. Was Hemingway a better writer than Faulkner? Is Stephen King better than Anne Rice? It depends on who you ask. And Steve (I call him, Steve), I’m sorry I criticized your characters once upon a time. I’m sure you worked hard on them.

A Matter of Detail

So I'm reading along in this book see. And the heroes are going to break into this sorcerer's house. There are bars on the window so they get a jack and they crank the bars out so they can slip inside. Sound ok? Yeah, well then why did it take the author three pages to get us in the house? Did we really need to see every drop of sweat and quiver in the arm muscles of the guy working the jack? It's what's in the house that is interesting.

So now we're finally in the house and our heroes awaken a guardian demon. Cool? One might think so, but it takes them less time to defeat the demon than to break into the house in the first place. There's no other way to say it but to point out that this is poor management of detail. As a result, I'm tossing this book aside and it's highly unlikely I'll be reading more by this author.

What was Bill Clinton's mantra in his first bid for the presidency? "It's the economy, stupid?" Replace "economy" with "details" and you'll have my point.

Custom of the Sea

There wasn't much on TV last night and I ended up watching a couple of specials about, of all things, cannibalism. There was the usual consideration given to the Donner Party, although I learned a few things I hadn’t known. For example, there were actually two encampments, and the smaller one had only recently been discovered and excavated. The scientists found no evidence of cannibalism at the small site, possibly because there was mostly only a single family there. The researchers actually examined all the bones at the site for cut marks and then tried to identify the species involved. No human bones with cut marks were discovered.

The special also featured a couple of cases where groups of people lost at sea after their ship sank resorted to cannibalism. I knew there were a few cases like that, but what I had not heard of was that, in fact, cannibalism in such cases was actually an unwritten “custom of the sea.” The survivors would draw straws to see who would be killed and eaten so that the others could live. According to the show, this was a widely known custom and was deemed perfectly acceptable. Hum!

The worst, most horrific story, involved Japanese soldiers during World War II who were abandoned on islands and resorted to cannibalism, both of enemy soldiers that they killed, and of each other. The worst part of this was that there were supposedly some documented cases where the Japanese soldiers cut pieces off prisoners of war to eat while the prisoners were alive. They left them alive so their meat wouldn’t spoil. Now that’s a horror story.

As Seen in a Dream

A dream I had last night might make an interesting opening for a story. I was in an alleyway in the bad part of a medieval city with another man and a woman. The woman was related to me and was quite a bit younger than I was. She might have been a niece but I’m not sure. The man was an acquaintance. The setting was a quasi-fantasy setting, although none of us were carrying weapons. I heard something that disturbed me and told the other two to remain where they were while I investigated. I went off down the alleyway but found nothing. When I returned, however, I found the man and the woman dead and strung up from a crossbar with ropes around their necks. Both had been cut open. The man had strands of pearls thrust into his eviscerated stomach, entwined with his intestines. The woman had a few dollar bills clinging to her clothing and a little pile of wrinkled bills beneath her feet. I remember thinking that, since the motive was clearly not robbery, I was going to have a hard time finding the killer and taking my vengeance. Then I woke up.

Nostalgia Reading, Part II

I started a book called Dagger last night, by David Drake. I’m considering it nostalgia reading because it is the last tie-in book that I have left regarding the “Thieves World” ® franchise. This was a concept created by Robert Lynn Asprin, with the help of Lynn Abbey who later became Asprin’s wife. Thieves World ® was the first “shared world” anthology. Different writers all wrote stories about the same fantasy “world,” and they were allowed to use each other’s characters as long as they didn’t kill or maim them. The result was a series of twelve anthologies that really broke new ground in fantasy fiction. I was a big fan.

All the original anthology stories centered around a town called “Sanctuary,” which seemed to be filled mostly with thieves, rogues, murderers, rapists, assassins, drug addicts, sodomites, sorcerers, witches, pimps, whores, catamites, child molesters, drunks, mercenaries, bullies, bravos, muckers, down-on-their-luck bards, demons, and (whew) gods. Oh, there was an occasional merchant, although he or she usually doubled as one of the other types of character as well.

The series boasted some great writing from the likes of C.J. Cherryh, Poul Anderson, Diane Duane, and many others, although my absolutely favorite stories were by Janet Morris. There were also some series tie-in novels written by individual authors, with, again, the best ones being by Janet Morris and featuring a character named Tempus. Dagger is pretty good so far, although I don’t think it’s going to be as good to me as the Morris books.

If you haven’t heard of Thieves World ®, check out this homepage. There are also some new books being produced in the series, set long after the original series ended, but I have not seen any of these so I don’t know much about the quality. Lynn Abbey is editing them so one might hope they’ll keep up the level of quality of the originals.

Losses to Writing

I was realizing this morning that we've lost three writers already this year who personally touched my life. The first was Kenneth Bulmer, a British SF/Fantasy/Other writer who was actually an influence on the style of my fantasy fiction. I've probably read fifty of his novels and have quite a few left to go. He wrote under many pseudonyms, including Alan Burt Akers and Manning Norvil.

The second was David Gemmell, also a British writer. Gemmell wrote heroic fantasy and I've read at least fifteen or so of his novels, with another ten or so to go. In just the last two years Gemmell has become my "favorite" author.

The third loss was, of course, Charles Grant, who I mentioned an entry or so back. The antholigies that Grant edited were there when I first began reading horror and they were certainly an influence on my own short horror fiction.

The worst loss of all is that, by all accounts, these three gentlemen were fine human beings who have left behind many loved ones. Let's hope for a Heaven, or Valhalla, or something. I know that I won't forget them.

Nostalgia Reading

A new Illuminata is up with another “Writer’s Block” column from me. It’s sort of a five year retrospective on the major points I’ve made in the column over the years. Hard to believe I’ve been doing it for that long. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in an SF movie where time has sped up for me while the rest of the world moves at the same old rate. Maybe it’s just getting older, but I'd sure like the whirlwind to stop for a while so I could get off.

Between the opening agonies of the school year and the fact that my son has been having a few health problems lately, I haven’t had much energy for fiction. I’m still doing the non-fiction thing. In reading, I'm halfway through Garan the Eternal by Andre Norton. Some of you may remember my mentioning this book a few entries back when I was talking about “Childhood’s Books.” Unfortunately, “Garan” is not satisfying my need. It’s very weak. On the other hand, I also started an old Star Trek book that I had lying around and it’s actually pretty good. It’s Star Trek: Log One, which contains stories from the short lived Star Trek animated series. These are adapted by Alan Dean Foster. Nostalgia reading, I guess you’d call it. Or if you want to use Freudian terms, I’m “regressing” back to an earlier time in my life when life was just plain better.

Charles Grant

Charles Grant has died. Those of you who write horror will know his name. He wrote a number of fine novels himself, among them Night Songs and The Bloodwind, and he edited some great collections, including the Shadows series of original anthologies. I think I have most of his personal books and collections, and close to twenty or so anthologies that he edited. His work was a little quieter than the splatterpunks but I enjoyed it very much for the mood and atmosphere that he was able to evoke.

Charles died September 15, 2006, after a long, long illness. He had, in fact, just been released from the hospital ten days earlier, although he was still needing around the clock care. It is a good thing that he was able to spend a few days at home.

Charles is survived by his wife Kathy Ptacek, who is also a fine writer, and by many friends. He will be missed.

Hemingway

I just finished reading a biography of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway is the writer who taught me that the "classics" weren't all boring and irrelevant to my life. The Old Man and the Sea is among my favorite novels of all time. Some of Hemingway's short stories, such as "The Snows of Kilimanjaro" or "The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber" are perfect gems. Hemingway wrote, perhaps, the best single-paragraph scene ever put on paper. It is headed "Chapter V" in The Short Stories, from the Scribners paperback collection.

But despite Hemingway's talent, and the ferocious discipline that he brought to his writing, Hemingway himself was not a terribly admirable man. He was certainly immature in his personal life. He was married four times and sometimes seemed to be looking for a new love as soon as he married the last one. And although he loved his children, he often left them when they were very small. He was also something of a braggart. Certainly, he often backed up his brags, but it's pretty clear that he talked a better show than he put on at times. And, he was often petty in his relationships with other writers.

I find that I can't admire Hemingway's personality, but I do respect his work and the effort that he put into it. I usually cannot see that same level of committment in my own writing life.

In the end, of course, Hemingway committed suicide, just like his father. He used a shotgun. I found out in his biography that, Mary, his wife at the time, had the gun taken apart and buried in an undisclosed location(s) in the hills of Idaho. Wouldn't that be an intersting find?

SCIFIPEDIA

All of you know about Wikipedia. Well, now there is a SCIFIPEDIA, based on the same concept but with the focus on SF, Fantasy and Horror. It's kind of cool, but kind of small at the moment. I intend to put some entries in, however. And I'm sure others will so maybe it will grow. Check it out.

Death Notes

I know it sounds morbid but on my long commute today I started thinking about the "literature" of suicide notes. The one that came immediately to mind was that left by Robert E. Howard before he shot himself. It read:

All fled, all done
so lift me on the pyre
the feast is over
and the lamps expire

Hart Crane had something much simpler to say just before he jumped over the side of the ship he was on. He said: "Goodbye, everybody!"

Once I got to school I did a quick net search and found there are quite a few sites that post suicide notes, and, more morbidly, there are sites that let you construct your own.

Strangely, in looking over some of these sites, I found the "better" sayings were often uttered, not by suicides who you might think had plenty of time to formulate their note, but by people on their deathbeds from other causes. One of my favorites is by Oscar Wilde. His last words were: "Either that wallpaper goes, or I do." H.G. Wells' last words were: "Go away. I'm all right." Pancho Villa's last words are rather humorous to us today: He ended with: "Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."

The saddest I found, which sounds like a truly horrific suicide note but wasn't, was by Leonardo Da Vinci. His last words were: "I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have." Talk about being your own harshest critic.

Maybe I should start working on my last words now so I can get them right. If I had died in my first major motorcycle wreck my last word(s) would have been: "Shit!" If I'd died in my second one the ending phrase would have been: "Dammit, not again." Somehow I don't think those quite compare with: "I've had eighteen straight whiskeys. I think that's the record," which were the last words of Dylan Thomas.

John D. MacDonald

John D. MacDonald is the only writer I ever wrote a fan letter to. This was back in the 1970s, when I was in Junior High, and I never got an answer. I wish I had a copy of that letter now. I can't remember what it said; I just remember sending it. At the time I was enamored of JDM's Travis McGee series. McGee was a Knight errant with slightly tarnished armor, and I loved his appearances in such books as The Turquoise Lament, The Deep Blue Goodbye, and The Long Lavender Look. JDM wrote 21 books in the McGee series, and all but the last to be published, The Lonely Silver Rain, were truly excellent. He also wrote many other books as well, over 70, and the vast majority of them were a combination of noir, mystery and thriller. My favorite, non-McGee book, is called Murder in the Wind, which involves a group of people trapped in a house during a hurricane and which I think is a lesson in how to write a thriller.

MacDonald died in 1986, the same year I finished graduate school, and I've read almost everything he's ever written. I would have read it all, but I've actually been doling the last few books out to myself over time. I hate to think of when they are all gone. Right now I'm reading Judge Me Not, about an anti-corruption crusader who runs head on into some nasty corrupters. This was published in 1951, from Gold Medal Books, and is one of his earlier efforts. It's not the best thing JDM did, but it still has the magic and I'm enjoying it quite a lot. If you haven't read any JDM, try his McGee books first. If you're into SF more, he also wrote a few SF novels, Wine of the Dreamers, Ballroom of the Skies, and The Girl, The Gold Watch, and Everything. They made a TV movie from the last one, and since that time a couple of movies have borrowed the basic idea. It's very good, about a man who has a watch that can stop time, but my favorite among his SF pieces is Wine of the Dreamers.

Where the Wild Things Are

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here but we have quite a few wild creatures living in the woods around our house. So far I haven’t seen any deer, but I’ve seen their tracks. I have seen rabbits and squirrels, and also possums and raccoons. The last two species are a rambunctious lot. Two days ago we put up a bird feeder. Yesterday Lana noticed that something had torn the bottom out of it to get at the food. We suspect a raccoon, although I suppose it could have been a squirrel. This morning I found poop right at the bottom of my steps. It was small poop so I’m pretty sure it was an animal. I’m hoping it was an animal. I know it wasn’t rabbit or squirrel, but I think it might have been either possum or raccoon.

You know you’re in the country when you find coon shit at your front door.

Free Books

A lot of older books are in the public domain now and Project Gutenberg has a lot of those available in various formats for downloading to your computer. I've previously downloaded some of the Doc Savage and The Shadow books, and a friend of mine recently pointed out a page where they have a bunch of free SF/Fantasy books, many of which took me on a nostalgic spin back to my childhood. In particular, I remember fondly the books by Edgar Rice Burroughs and the book Gulliver of Mars, which was an influence on ERB. I sometimes download these books even if I have a hard copy because it makes it easy to use my computer to search out particular phrases of interest. I've used this feature a few times for articles that I've done and found it handy.

Now, it's off to download a few more old books. I've particularly got my eye on Warlord of Kor by Terry Carr, and Brigands of the Moon by Ray Cummings. I've never read either one of them and but those titles are a promise I can't pass up.

Rereading Books

There are so many books to read that I very, very seldom reread one, no matter how much I enjoyed it. There are, however, a few exceptions. One book that I've reread is The Snow Leopard by Peter Matthiessen, which I'm on record as claiming to be my favorite book of all time. I've also reread William Zinsser's On Writing Well, which deals primarily with non-fiction but which I believe is a good lesson plan for any writer. I've reread The Martian Chronicles by Bradbury, and the first three books in Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars series. The only "classic" I've ever reread is The Old Man and the Sea, which is almost cheating since it's really only novella length. But the book that holds my personal record for the most rereads (at least 4) is a western by Louis L'Amour called To Tame a Land.

A few weeks ago a friend of mine named Steve Tompkins made the point that where westerns are concerned, the "eyes" have it. He meant that western movies such as Once Upon a Time in the West and The Outlaw Josey Wales were superior to any written western. Now Steve is a great guy and highly perceptive, but in this case he is quite simply wrong. Those movies are great ones, and are two of my favorite movies, but I'd toss either of them aside without a second thought on my way to To Tame a Land. As proof? Well, I've reread it at least as many times as I've watched any movie, ever. And considering that it takes longer to read a book than watch a movie, and that it requires more effort, I'd say my claim is supported.

Inspiring Country

Yesterday, my son and I visited a lake a few miles from my new place in Abita Springs. It was almost completely overgrown by Lily pads and other greenery, with cypress trees poking their knees up from the swampy water in various places. I immediately started thinking of what kind of evil thing might be living under that water, living there, perhaps causing the plant growth as a way of hiding itself. There was a children's playground nearby, with no children on it. Had the evil already reached out to take them, I wondered? Or had the children sensed the evil and no longer wanted to play there? But what would happen when the parents, always less aware of such things, made their kids go out to play?

That night, with a nearly full moon overhead, my son and I took a long walk along the dirt and gravel roads around our place. We saw an area where there were literaly thousands of small spider webs strung on the ground beneath the trees. But no spiders. Were they organizing, massing for war? Or had something within the woods...called them, perhaps to wear as clothing when it came shambling out of the trees to take the two foolish humans marching along the white line of the road in the darkness?

Every night my new world feeds me. Right now I'm just turning myself into a glutton, letting the images pour in. I'm hoping one day soon some of them will start to pour out again onto the page. Maybe my fiction well has been empty. If so, it's being "spring" fed now.

Posting Pictures

I've yet to figure out how to manage posting pictures in Blogger. Sometimes they post and sometimes they don't, and I can't figure out the reasons why. With my entry yesterday I tried to post covers of three books that I picked up off Amazon. I can see them clearly downloaded to my computer. Then I go through the blogger process of uploading a picture and the system tells me that my file has been uploaded and to click done. But after I click it nothing happens, no href = stuff gets posted to my screen.

This morning, I tried two or three different pictures before the one you see here today uploaded. Is it just me, or do other folks have these kinds of problems?

Childhood's Books

I wasn’t a “huge” fan of the Hardy Boys when I was growing up but I did enjoy the books. I think I only read half a dozen or so because they weren’t readily available in my small town library. But I did remember them fondly and have been known to remark that I would probably have read them all if I could have gotten my hands on them.

Unfortunately, I decided last night to revisit my childhood. I had a copy of Hunting for Hidden Gold lying around, a Hardy Boys mystery that I picked up a few years back at a library book sale. Feeling the need for a nostalgia fix, I popped it open and sat down for a little time travel. Man, it was bad. The characters--Frank Hardy and his younger, blond brother Joe--were right there on page 1, and for a moment I was transported. Then I actually began to read the thing, and found it horribly written and completely lacking in any suspense or surprise. There’s a little disappointment for you, like opening a Christmas present and finding…socks inside.

I’ve had similar experiences before. I absolutely loved both Edgar Rice Burroughs and Andre Norton when I was a teenager, far more than the Hardy Boys, but when I try to read anything by these two writers now I am generally dissatisfied. The only Burroughs that holds up for me are the John Carter of Mars books. The rest are so full of awkward coincidences that I have to struggle to keep going through them. Andre Norton doesn’t have the coincidences, but her books still seem weak to me now. Yet, I continue, on occasion, to pick up a Burroughs or a Norton and take it for a test read. Why?

I think the answer to my “why” is that I’m forever hopeful of recapturing the sheer joy and excitement of reading that filled my youth. Man, I remember my first Tarzan book, opening with Tarzan lying lazily on the back of Tantor just before all Hell broke loose. Tarzan found a pair of lost cities in the jungle where knights on horseback jousted for the hands of fair maidens. And I remember Norton’s Galactic Derelict, where modern humans traveling through time find an intact alien spaceship and take off in it. Or her Breed to Come, an “uplift” story long before David Brin wrote of it. And I remember The Zero Stone, and Judgment on Janus, and so many others. I wanted it to rain so I could stay in and read those books. Even talking about it puts a lilt of excitement in my voice.

So, that’s why I do it, why I try to recapture my youth. I can picture a book waiting at home for me right now on one of my to-be-read piles. Garan the Eternal by Andre Norton. On the cover is a warrior riding a strange beast with a monstrous sword to hand. God help me, I’m going to give it a go.

Commuter Writer

As of yesterday, I've started my life as a long distance commuter, from Abita Springs to New Orleans. So far, in two days I've averaged about an hour and twenty minutes one way. I'll be experimenting around to find out how to cut that time by leaving at different points in the morning and afternoon. I'm afraid the likely answer will be to leave very early in the morning. Goodbye sleep.

In the meantime, though, an hour long commute does give one time to think. I've had several "lines" pop into my head so far, but have had to memorize them so that I could write them down once I got to or from work. I have a small tape recorder that I'd like to start carrying with me so I can simply record my thoughts. Unfortunately, I loaned it to my son several months ago and getting it back, as in finding it, could be a problem. They aren't too expensive, though, so if I can't find this one I'll just have to buy another. I think it's a good way to take notes during such a drive. I'll let you know how it works. Maybe it's a good idea for some of you.

Guilty of Driving with Long Hair

I got stopped by the police the other night in my new home town of Abita Springs. I was doing about five over the speed limit when the cop saw me, although when he pulled me over a few hundred yards down the road, in the dead center of the small town, he said I was doing 53 in a 35. The limit was 45 when I first saw him, and I probably was running around 50. I wasn't all that surprised to be stopped. A new (as in unfamiliar) car, with tinted windows, appears suddenly in a small town. And it's night time. I was a little surprised at what happened next, although it turned out fine.

I showed the policeman my license, registration, etc., all of which were in order. I'd even got the address on my license changed. A second cop showed up while the first was checking me out on the radio. I was told to stand between my car and his and did so. They asked me if I had any guns or knives in the car, to which I replied "No." Then they asked if they could search the car. I told them, "sure." He looked pretty completely through the automobile, spent a few moments studying my Rolaids as if they might be merely impersonating a gas relief substance.

Being stopped wasn't all that strange, but I do believe that if I'd had short hair and looked a little more respectable that they wouldn't have asked to search my car. I had been to work and had my briefcase and textbooks in the back, and when the first cop looked at the books he asked, "You go to school?" To which I replied, "I teach." I think it's also a little hard for anyone to believe that I look like I do and am actually a professor. I've never had anyone ever see my textbooks and ask if I was a teacher, so I wasn't surprised that the policeman didn't.

In the end, though, the guy told me, "Since you were cool with me I'll be cool with you and let you off with a warning." I appreciated that. At least I've never gotten a ticket for being long-haired. Or mabye it's just because I'm ugly.

Far Beyond Driven

I’ve known Jim Sallis for quite a few years, even though I haven’t seen him physically in at least five or so. He used to live in New Orleans, but moved to Arizona to escape the humidity. He’s perhaps best known for the literary mystery series featuring the character of Lew Griffin. Other than a few short stories, the Griffin novels were my introduction to Sallis’s work, and they are uniformly excellent, with such titles as The Long Legged Fly, Moth, and Black Hornet. One of his most recent books is a standalone novel, though. It’s called Drive and is certainly among his best books. It has definitely moved into first place for me among his works, and that took some doing.

All of Jim Sallis’s work is informed by the noir fiction of such writers as Chester Himes and Dashielle Hammett, but Drive is more noir than most and is truly a classic of its kind. If you decide to read it, I will give you one warning. The story is not always linear and at times the sequencing of events can be a bit unclear. That doesn’t stop me from considering it a ripping good read. There are scenes that are just so “right” that they are heartbreaking.

A Good Night's Work?

Well, for the first time in quite a while I was relatively pleased with last night’s fiction work. A couple of days ago I started rewriting a story that I laid out in a basic outline nearly a year earlier. The story is a fantasy called “Sundered Man.” It’s going to be short, probably less than 3000 words. I started work fairly early in the night, around 9:00, but things wouldn’t come together. The outline still sounded like an outline; it was all telling and little showing. My resolve weakened and I took a long break to play a game called Age of Empires. But an hour later I was back on the story and gradually things started to flow. I was rather pleased with the last two-thirds of my night’s work, although the story is still so weak in the first section that it’ll need a complete rewrite. Still, it was good to feel a little bit of juice flowing.

Even after years of writing I still have to be reeducated. Sometimes things don’t flow but you just have to keep hammering on. Sometimes the first stuff out of your brain will have to be thrown away or revised to the point where you can’t recognize it. But still you have to put that stuff down. You have to let it bleed to clean the lines.

Lisey's Story

I finally finished reading Lisey’s Story by Stephen King. Like many of King’s books, it started off pretty slowly. I thought it was a literary novel for the first hundred pages, which I read mostly during bathroom breaks. But the horror finally came out and it got considerably better. Yesterday I gave it the recognition of taking it out of the bathroom and reading it on the couch while football played in the background. In the end I enjoyed it quite a bit, although I felt it could have been written to move at a nearly blistering pace if he’d cut out 20 to 25 thousand words.

One reason I’m posting about the book here is because the main character, Lisey, is the wife of a big-time writer. Her husband, the writer Scott, is a prominent character throughout. Although Scott and his experiences are certainly fictional, I believe that many of the attitudes he holds about writing and about critics are the same as held by Stephen King. If so, King does not have a high opinion of critics or of the academics who study literary works. He has a much higher opinion of the actual readers.

I also believe that “Scott’s” working habits, writing with rock and roll or country and western music playing, for example, probably reflect the actual habits of King. Scott also does a considerable amount of drinking, which I know from various sources has been an issue with King himself over the years. I also suspect that the description of Lisey’s life with Scott probably parallels that of King’s real life wife, Tabitha. For these reasons alone the book might be worth reading. But once you get past the slowly paced opening there is some good writing and some genuine suspense.

Ghost Road Blues

I’m reading a very good book called Ghost Road Blues by Jonathan Maberry. Jonathan is a member of HWA, Horror Writers of America, a group to which I also belong. He had contacted me a year or so ago about a library charity program that he was running. He was looking for book donations and I sacrificed a copy of Cold in the Light to the cause. This was my first contact with Jonathan but it won’t be my last. I started his book and found myself immediately hooked in a way that I haven’t been by a newly released horror/thriller in a long time. The characters are clearly defined and seem absolutely real. There is great action and a building sense of dread. And there is atmosphere, something too few thriller writers even try to achieve these days. I highly recommend the work. It’s from Pinnacle Books, 2006.

Jonathan tells me there are more books coming. I’m looking forward to them. But for more on his work, check his website.

Writer's Write

My title phrase has been everywhere in my life for the past week. I'm reading a Stephen King book called Lisey's Story, which features a big-time writer as the supporting main character, and again and again throughout the work the phrase "Writer's Write" appears. Then, in my Monday night writer's group meeting, the phrase also came up several times, and not from me.

One of the points of the phrase, as discussed in King's book and in my group, was that unless writer's write they feel...incomplete, or anxious, or frustrated. They literally have to write. I've always felt this way, at least since I began writing fiction regularly in 1988. I think, however, that I find it easier psychologically to take time off from writing these days than I did three or four years ago. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. Could it mean that I'm losing some of my drive to write? What I do know is that moving into a new house, basically into a new life, would seem to be a good time for some soul searching. I hope you forgive me if I do some of the searching here.

Praise the Net (access)

You don't know how much you miss the internet until it's gone. It's been nearly three weeks since I've had regular access. I was so frustrated when I got home this last Monday night to find that the satellite guy had put up our dish and set the net up to work on his computer, but that it wouldn't work on mine. By the time I found that out he'd already left.

But now things are closer to normal. I finished my next column for The Illuminata tonight. I'll give it a once over tomorrow and send it out this weekend. Hard to believe that the Newsletter is five years old. I've now done 44 columns for it. It's been a great learning experience and has forced me to be both more disciplined and to write better first drafts. Of course, any writing is good writing.

Oh, and the moon was brilliant tonight over the pines. I love the country.

Back OnLine

All right. With more trouble than I would have liked, I'm finally back online. (If this posts.) We had the WildBlue folks come and hook up our satellite for internet, but they failed to hook it up to "my" computer. Lana needed a new computer anyway so we went and bought her one and set that up, and finally, after many "readings of the help files," I found out how to get back to my blogger account. Right now I'm exhausted and am going to have a beer. More posts coming soon.

Charles

Various Issues

I'm checking in remotely again, but this should be the last day. They are supposed to come hook up our internet connection at the new house today. I've got my fingers crossed.

In writing news, another Illuminata is up, with a "Writer's Block" column by me. The issue is listed at the bottom right of the archives, August 2006. I'm also reading a book called Ghost Road Blues by Jonathan Mayberry, with an eye toward providing him with a cover quote. The book has really hooked me and I'm enjoying it greatly so far. I'm about a third of the way through it. I spent most of the weekend writing, but it was for non-fiction. Still, I was glad to get back on the computer and log a few hours. I got a lot accomplished at least.

If our net is up when I get home, I should start posting regularly here again. If you don't see a new post by me in the next two days figure something went wrong with the satellite set up. If it is up I plan to go back to posting most every day, with the focus on writing again.

Moving is a Pain

When you have a lot of books, that is. I've just been working 12 hour days the past week getting the new house organized and a big part of that was just getting my books put up. I've made good progress, though. Yesterday I tucked boxes of stuff away in the closets and now I have room to move around in the house.

Unfortunately, we've found that the builders did a half assed job on many things. The AC wasn't cooling, because they left a vent open underneath the house and it was nice and cool there. I taped it up but they are supposed to come soon to fix it. We also found leaks around the intake area of the AC where the carpet is getting wet. Not sure what that means but I'll have them check it out. Our dishwasher is not bolted in, and our hot water heater apparently doesn't work. In other news, we've been waiting for a phone line for a week now. Who'd a thunk it could take so long. It should be another 7 to 8 days before we get internet set up at the new place as well, but I'll be checking in here as I can. I haven't been able to get out of the house to even go to the library because we have people supposed to come over constantly to fix things.

But, hey, it's nice to see the trees and hear the frogs and birds.

Checking In

Well, we're moved into the new house. Now the hard work is to get everything unpacked and organized. I've been working on my office and have my bookshelves and computer set up, and some books on the shelves. We still don't have internet or phone. The phone guy came yesterday but had problems. He's supposed to come back today. I've also got to call the net people but was going to wait until after the TV people come tomorrow. I had to come to work today and am using my university net service, but I don't want to drive an hour hear each day for that. I will try to be checking net stuff at the local library in Abita Springs. But there may still be gaps in this blog.

It's great to be in the new place, with trees on three sides of us. I'll post some pictures down the line. We did find that our AC wasn't cooling well and finally I crawled under the house and found that the builders had left one vent open to the ground and cool air was filling the area beneath the trailer. I got it taped up temporarily but we have a call in to them to fix that.

And now it's off to unpack more books. Man I have a lot of books.

Can't Sleep

I guess I'm excited. It's 6:30 on moving day and I've been up for over an hour. Too much on my mind. Last minute things to do. Last minute worries to worry.

Knowing that I might be offline for a few days after today, I finished up my next column for The Illuminata and emailed it to the editor, Bret Funk. That went out last night. It's called "The Working Man's Curse," and is about how to keep up the momentum on a writing project even when "work" work interferes. Other than that, I'm waiting and reading.

Blog Holiday?

Tomorrow the movers come to take our beds and bookshelves to our other place and we'll be sleeping there from now on. Since we don't have internet hooked up there yet, I may miss a few days of blogging. I feel like I've gotten some momentum going so I hate to, but unless I can find some way of accessing the net I won't have a choice but to call a temporary halt.

In other news, I got my latest mailing from REHupa, the Robert E. Howard United Press Association. It's a huge one for our 200th anniversary. I started working on my next mailing last night and made good progress. I also got a nice new review on Amazon for Cold in the Light from a reader. It's entitled "Modern Science Fiction Thrill Ride" and is the second review down on the page. A nice surprise.

A Writing Slow Down

The last few days have been consummed with moving related issues. It's all the little details that are maddening. Just changing an address is a major undertaking. Then there's setting up the garbage collection, the phone, the TV, the internet. I haven't had much time to actually write so I've been jotting a few lines of poetry here and there on notepads and have been doing some reading about writing. I also stopped in at Books-A-Million on the Northshore, which isn't far from our place. I bought another David Gemmell book. A few days back I stopped at the Abita Springs library to get a library card but they said I had to bring in a bill with my new address on it as proof I was living there. I'll do that next week.

The movers come on Monday to haul our life from Metairie to Abita Springs, so we have to have everything out of the way for that. Today and Sunday will be full, especially since I also have to go to graduation ceremonies at Xavier today. Best get to it, I guess.

Warning! Rant in Session

Can you say Pissed Off? I can. I had to renew my driver’s license, which I could have done by mail or internet. However, I also have to change my address and that can’t be done online or via mail apparently. So, this morning I went to the DMV. Or I tried.

Knowing that there is always a line out the door at the DMV for its 8:00 O’clock opening, I got up at 7:00 this morning and was there by 7:30. Only to find a sign in the window that they had moved to a new location. Sigh.

It took me forty minutes to find the new location, which turned out to be just half a mile from my apartment. By that time there was a...line out the door. I waited. I waited some more. I finally got to the receptionist who gave me a number and put me in the “Express” line. Yeah!

But wait. I was #032 and I sat while they called 028, 029, 030, 031, in short order. Then stillness set in. They called a bunch of other numbers for other, non-express lines, but no 032. I waited almost 30 minutes, at which point a man hollers for our attention and announces that the DMV’s computers are shut down across the entire state. There’s no sense in waiting but we can come back another day. Over two and a half hours down the drain and I’ll just have to do it again tomorrow. Yes, I’m not a happy camper.

Buying Books

I got a coupon in the mail from Barnes & Noble for 15% off all purchases so naturally I went to the bookstore last night. I bought some more David Gemmell books, and a couple by James Sallis, who is a very fine writer. I'll have to post some information on him here one of these days. I also picked up a pound of paper by john baxter, which is subtitled "confessions of a book addict." Sound familiar? I've actually read most of it before because I did an article on Baxter, who was an early SF writer, for a reference work. Baxter is still alive, and living in France. I managed to get in touch with hhim by email and he was very friendly and helpful.

I also got The Writer's Complete Fantasy Reference. I know a lot of the stuff in it but it doesn't hurt to have it handy in case I need to look something up. And there are some new terms that I'm not familiar with. It's sort of a dictionary and encyclopedia in one. I also got Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook by Donald Maass and I think I might give it a work through as I get ready to start another novel. Can't hurt. Does anyone out there find reading books on writing helpful to their own work? Just curious.

Irritation

I was a bit upset to read in the latest Writer's Digest about a magazine entitled Lucky, where an editor contacted book publicists in New York with a call for "an attractive female author...between the ages of 25 and 35" for a project they were planning. In other words, writing skill and experience need not apply. Physical attractiveness was the main criteria.

Why didn't they just call Paris Hilton to begin with?

Off Work?

I'm officially off work but that hasn't made much difference for my getting to sleep in. I was up at 6:00 Saturday to make it to the Baton Rouge SF Con, and got up at 6:15 this morning because I had to go across the lake to our new place in Abita Springs to meet with the mail delivery person. Then I put up our mailbox and set up our electric bill. But I think I'll be able to get a nap this afternoon, and man am I looking forward to it.

I was at the new house early this morning and was looking out through the window of my soon-to-be office at the trees. A faint bluish mist hung around the trunks, and thin beams of sunlight struck through the foliage. It was inspiring and made me want to have my computer and desk set up so I could write. Strangely enough, perhaps, I've traditionally had my computer facing a wall instead of window so that I wouldn't be distracted from my work. Maybe it's time for a change.

Star One Delta Con

Well, I’m fresh back from the Star One Delta Con in Baton Rouge. It was the first annual. Let’s hope there’ll be more. I was told that they’d made it into the black so that probably means there will be more. Attendance wasn’t huge but there were a respectable number of folks there. My first two panels were well attended. My last one was at 6:00 in the evening, though, after a huge thunderstorm, and there were only three people. One of them was not my copresenter, who didn’t show up. Still, we had a good discussion.

I sold a couple of my books and handed out quite a few bookmarks. As usual, I met a lot of good folks. There were at least four PhD’s there, one in astronomy, one in paleontology, one in English, and one in psychology, of course. There was a fellow doing rocket demonstrations, and there was a panel where they showed trailers for upcoming SF releases, many of which had not been previously seen by the general public. They auctioned off guest appearances as a character in the Spiderman 3 novel, the next Predator novel, and in a Star Trek novel. I would have definitely bid on the Predator one where you were to be killed messily, but I had a panel at the same time and had to miss the auction. Sigh!

The dealer’s room was very small, and there are plans to expand that next year. I would have liked to have seen some booksellers but there wasn’t much room for it really. There was a guy selling comics and graphic novels. I bought a set of sword & sorcery comics drawn by Gil Kane.

All in all, I had a great time and would recommend it to anyone. If you’re interested in finding out more about the Star One Delta group, then click here.

Note: Art by Lana Jackman again.

Art and the Artist

The sketch I've posted today was drawn by my girlfriend, Lana Jackman. She's a very talented artist and this is one of my favorite sketches by her. Much of her stuff is fantasy related, but she does other types of drawings, as well, including amazing birds. She has lately been on an abstract kick.

I've always been envious of visual artists. I wish I had the talent to capture the images in my head and from my dreams on a canvas instead of in words. But I can't even draw a stick figure without screwing it up. I guess I'm stuck with prose.

Lana is also a talented poet and if you are interested in seeing more of her stuff you can check out her webpage.

Yeah, and...

Final grades are finished and turned in. Yeah!!!! Except for a few expected calls from students to complain, I'm going to be on break for a couple of weeks. Sleep sounds so good to me right now.

In other news, I'm getting ready for the Star One Delta con in Baton Rouge this Saturday. Check here for a map and more information. I'll be sitting on three panels, one on getting published, one on possible alien physiology and mentality, and one on New Orleans Gothic literature. I'm looking forward to it.

I also finished reading Kate Wilhelm's Storyteller. Although I disagreed on occassion with her, I thought the book was quite excellent. I recommend it. I will still be posting a few items related to that book in future blog entries.

Hey, I'm a going home.

Movie Monsters

Do you like movie monsters? Hey, everyone does, don’t they? But do you remember your movies and your monsters? Can you look at the phrases or quotes below and match them with the famous monsters below that? Now this quiz is easy. Anything less than eleven correct and you surely can’t be trying. Less than six correct and you need to go out and buy yourself a VCR/DVD and spend some time catching up on the classics.

1. Not so jolly Green Giant
2. “I’ll be back”
3. Fava beans
4. Who goes there?
5. “The Children of the Night.”
6. Skull collector
7. The Moon is a harsh mistress
8. Swim fan
9. When electricity came to the castle
10. Chest burster
11. No sarcophagus can hold him
12. The eighth wonder of the world
13. I told you not to open that box
14. Amorphous Entity
15. Elder God

a. King Kong
b. The Mummy
c. Dracula
d. The Wolfman
e. Godzilla
f. The Terminator
g. The Predator
h. Cthulhu
i. Creature from Black Lagoon
j. Pinhead
k. The Blob
l. Hannibal Lecter
m. Frankenstein’s Monster
n. Alien
o. The Thing

Answers: 1. Godzilla, 2. Terminator, 3. Hannibal Lecter, 4. The Thing, 5. Dracula, 6. Predator, 7. The Wolfman, 8. Creature from the Black Lagoon, 9. Frankenstein’s Monster, 10, Alien, 11. The Mummy, 12. King Kong, 13. Pinhead, 14, The Blob, 15. Cthulhu.

Ken Bulmer

Henry Kenneth Bulmer, who died December 16, 2005 at the age of 84, is also a favorite writer of mine, and he’s one that relatively few of my friends appreciate. Ken, as he was called, was born in London in 1921 and wrote close to 170 novels and numerous short stories for British, American, and European markets. Many of his books were SF or fantasy, but many others weren’t, and because he wrote under numerous pseudonyms and house names it’s sometimes difficult to track down his work. Chances are you’ve read more than one of his books without knowing it.

Two of Bulmer’s pseudonyms are of particular interest to me. He wrote three excellent sword & sorcery novels under the name Manning Norvil, each of which got better than the one before. These featured a character named Odan: The Half-God, and are Dream Chariots, Whetted Bronze, and Crown of the Sword God. Ken also wrote fifty-two books and a novella in the Dray Prescot Sword & Planet series, which were modeled on the Martian books of Edgar Rice Burroughs. Many of the Prescot books were written under the name Alan Burt Akers, although the later ones were credited to Prescot himself, who was the hero of the series. Only the novella and thirty-seven of the Prescot books were published in English, all by DAW books. Despite the fact that they were written in English, the remaining books were printed only in Germany where there is a big Bulmer fan base.

Efforts are currently underway by fan groups to get the remaining Prescot books published in English. Just recently, Mushroom Books has started republishing the early works in the series in electronic format and are hoping to acquire the German-only ones as well. This will certainly depend on sales of their early releases.

I’ll not make the claim here that Bulmer was a great writer in the sense of transcending his subject matter. I do know that I like him enough to systematically collect his work, and I think of him as a solid professional who consistently turned out interesting and imaginative stories. He even had a good dose of poetry in his soul, and he never forgot his roots among the fans.

For more about Bulmer, see his entry on Wikipedia, which lists most of his works. There’s also a yahoo group dedicated to him. It’s called Kregen, and I’m a member of it. Kregen was the name of the world where Bulmer’s most famous character, Dray Prescot, had his adventures.

An SF Quiz for You Brainiacs

Ah, those classic SF movies. They amazed and charmed us, teased and titillated us. And even though they may look cheap compared to the modern SF megahits, they had that undeniable something that thrilled and chilled. Can you match the phrases, quotes, images or characters from the numbered movies at top with the lettered movie titles just below? Twelve to fifteen correct means that you know your drive-in celluloid. Eight to eleven correct is pretty good but don’t give up your day job. Four to seven correct suggests that you need a refresher course in SF movie history. Below four correct? I guess old SF is just not your thing. The answers follow.

1. “They’re here already!”
2. The plants who ate London
3. Carrot top
4. Klaatu
5. Germ warfare wins the day
6. Small things in big packages
7. Shocking
8. Do you know who your parents are?
9. Oh no, there goes Washington, DC.
10. The days just fly by
11. It came from the ID
12. Between a (big) rock & a hard place
13. Woody Woodpecker Guest stars
14. The haves versus the have nots
15. I Am Legend

a. Metropolis
b. The Last Man on Earth
c. Them!
d. Invasion of the Body Snatchers
e. Day of the Triffids
f. When Worlds Collide
g. Destination Moon
h. The Day the Earth Stood Still
i. The Thing from Another World
j. Forbidden Planet
k. War of the Worlds
l. Earth Vs the Flying Saucers
m. Invaders from Mars
n. The Tingler
o. The Time Machine

Answers: 1. Invasion of the Body Snatchers, 2. Day of the Triffids, 3. The Thing from Another World, 4. The Day the Earth Stood Still, 5. War of the Worlds, 6. Them!, 7. The Tingler, 8. Invaders from Mars, 9. Earth Vs the Flying Saucers, 10, The Time Machine, 11. Forbidden Planet, 12. When Worlds Collide, 13. Destination Moon, 14. Metropolis, 15. The Last Man on Earth.

David Gemmell's Death

David Gemmell, one of my favorite writers, has just died at age 57. He had heart bypass surgery a couple of weeks ago but had seemingly been recovering well. Such surgeries are never without risk, however.

Gemmell was a British fantasy writer who I just discovered a few years back. I've probably read fifteen of his novels since, and I think I have maybe another dozen to go. I'm really saddened to hear of his death. By all accounts, he was an excellent human being as well as a fine writer. He will be missed.

There's an obituary here.

Vacuumnauts

In Storyteller, Kate Wilhelm says that: “Real people can’t survive in a vacuum.” She’s referring to the fact that characters have to “live” somewhere, at some time, with some one. She’s absolutely correct. Even “The Man with No Name,” played by Clint Eastwood in Spaghetti westerns such as A Fistful of Dollars and A Few Dollars More, lived in a place and time (The Mythical American West), and interacted with others (Lee Van Cleef’s character for one.)

I know that to answer such questions about their characters, some writers make up biographies, or at least do character sketches, before they ever start writing. I tend not to do that. Rather, I like discovering the character as I write. I often construct a character sketch later, especially if I think I might use that individual again. My way probably takes more time if anything, but I like the fluidity of it. At least for me, when I flesh out a character they tend to become very real for me. And that means I can’t easily change something about a fleshed out character even if it might make the story better. Even names become part of the character, and I find myself unable to change them without some mental gymnastics on my part. I’ve actually written stories using one character name, then used global search and replace to exchange that name for another that will appear in the published story. You may ask why. Well, I’d created two very different characters named Kainja. One had already appeared in published stories when I wrote a piece about the second one. I didn’t want to confuse my readers, but I found it difficult to use a different name for Kainja while I was writing the new tale. I just wrote the character as Kainja to make my job easier, then did search and replace to fix the problem for any potential readers.

A Wall of a Story

In Storyteller, Kate Wilhelm discusses a story written by a student at the Clarion workshop in which all the events of the tale take place behind a wall that is too high to see over. Wilhelm asked the student what was behind the wall and she said that it had never come up in the story and she didn't know. Wilhelm says that: "The writer has to know what lies beyond the wall and has to give the readers enough direct instructions or else imply enough through the characters' behavior for the readers to be able to piece it together."

I agree absolutely with the first part of this. The writer should know what's behind the wall because it will affect the actions of the characters. It's like having that metaphorical elephant in the bedroom that no one talks about. I also have to wonder, how could the writer not know? How could you write such a story without evoking your own curiousity about what lies beyond the wall. How could you not have thought about it? Half the fun of writing is world building.

The second part of Wilhelm's comment, however, about giving the readers enough clues to piece it together, is less clear to me. If I was reading the story I would want to know, of course. And I'd be frustrated if the writer gave me no hints and I could never even develop a theory of "beyond-the-wallness." Yet, I can imagine a situation in which the whole point of the story is the not knowing, the never finding out. Perhaps such a story could serve as a metaphor for life, with the wall representing death. Such a story could be effective even if it breaks the second half of Wilhelm's rule.

I guess my thinking is that there are few absolute "don'ts" in writing. Story telling is not a hard science. It's a discovery.

Write What You Know?

They say to "write what you know." I confess to not completely understanding this advice. I certainly set a lot of stories in physical environments that I'm familiar with. Most of the cities/towns in my tales are based either on New Orleans or on my small home town of Charleston, Arkansas. Many of the characters in my stories have similarities to myself or to other folks I know. When I have characters use guns, or ride motorcyles, or drive cars, I usually select ones that I've fired, or ridden, or driven. But can't I have a character who flies a plane? I never have, and believe me you wouldn't want me flying yours. Or what if I want to set a tale in the Sahara desert, or on the moon? I've never been to either. What if...I want to write a story with a main character who is a woman? I don't think I've ever been one.

Many of my favorite stories by other writers are set on worlds that neither the author nor any other human has ever visited. Many are set on worlds or in places that have never even existed, and never could exist. Thank the muse that those writers didn't stick with "what they knew."

"Write what you know" has to be expanded. Use what you know, certainly. Use it as the basis, the core of your story. You know emotions, needs, wants. You know sickness and health. You know dreams. But don't let not knowing stop you. Write what you can know, what you can learn. Most of all, write what you can imagine.

Let's Add to the Stress, Shall We?

I know it works this way. But still I wonder why. With the stress of the past week, and the coming stress of final exams this week and of completing our move, the one thing I needed to make sure of was getting enough sleep. That went out the window this morning at 6:15 as workers climbed up on the roof directly above my bedroom at the apartment and began banging. I attempted to find some rhythm in the banging for the first fifteen minutes, then came downstairs and did my blog entry instead. At least the workers are happy. I heard one of them singing.

Coming up on Finals

I'm not looking forward to this week. I give five tests in my four classes this week, and this is before Final Exams start. Next week I have four more tests. This is largely because it's our "Spring" semester, prior to graduation, and Senior grades have to be turned in early. I'm also grading 30 something papers that I got last Friday, and I'm sure another problem or two will surface this week. From at least Thursday on I'll be doing nothing but grading for four to five days.

In other news, everything is turned on and ready at our new house and as soon as we can schedule the move for our big stuff we'll be out of the apartment and into Abita Springs. We probably won't be able to get that move scheduled until after next week, though. Just too many things hitting at once here. I feel very much like a boxer in the fifteenth round who is beaten but is just desperately trying to stay on his feet until the final bell.

Man, the bell is slow.

In the Vineyard, They Toil

I’ve mentioned three members of my writing group in New Orleans who are widely published, Laura Joh Rowland, Candice Proctor, and Emily Toth. But there are two other members who deserve attention in my blog. These are Steve Harris, the husband of Candice Proctor, and Elora Fink. Both are fine writers, although neither has published much.

Elora single handedly keeps quite a few writers in business. I’ve never met anyone who reads as much or who is so knowledgeable about contemporary writers. The woman devours books the way I eat popcorn shrimp. She goes to signings, reads writer’s blogs, and checks out their websites. She even owns more books than I do and that’s impressive. She’s also a good friend when you need one.

Steve met Candice in our group. I like to think I brought them together. That last is a complete fiction, but then I did tell you I was a writer didn’t I? Yeah, I sometimes make up stuff. Steve is also well read and likes a lot of the same stuff I do. He’s a Koontz fan, for example. I think Steve is the only one of the group who actually read my horror novel, Cold in the Light. He even said that he liked it. That alone makes him a swell fellow, but he also brings a lot of insight to our group on what works or doesn’t work in fiction.

Sometimes I despair about the world. I think about how nasty humans are as a species and how much pain people cause for others. But then I think of folks like Steve and Elora and I know there are still some rebels out there, people who resist the nearly irresistible negative influences of popular culture and the media, people who are cool in my book. (Even if it’s a pretty thin book.)

Emily Toth

Emily Toth is a professor of English and Women’s Studies at Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge. She’s yet another member of my Greater New Orleans writing group, and has the honor of being the one who travels the farthest to meet with us. Emily wrote an historical novel called Daughters of New Orleans in 1983, but is best known for her nonfiction. She is an expert on Kate Chopin, and has written two well received biographies on her, one of which was nominated for a Pulitzer. Emily has also published a biography on Grace Metalious, the woman who wrote Peyton Place. That book (Emily’s) has actually been optioned for a potential movie starring Sandra Bullock.

It’s perhaps easiest to find Emily today through her “Ms. Mentor” column for the Chronicle of Higher Education. Ms. Mentor provides advice, generally with a twist of tart humor, for academics who are struggling with careers and personal lives. Even if you aren’t an academic, the column is funny.

News

A couple of items to relate. Another new Illuminata is up. This one has a column by me on “Blogging: Pros and Cons.” Also, the guest page for Star One Delta has been updated to include some bio information on me. This is that SF Con I mentioned being invited to, which I’ll be going to on August 5. Hope to see you there.

Am I a Sexist Reader

The other day, I talked a little about how much the work of certain writers had affected my life, and I realized today that all the writers I mentioned were male. Steinbeck, Lewis Thomas, Peter Matthiessen, etc.. I began to wonder if this makes me a “sexist?” When I give this possibility a closer look, I realize that most of the writers I read are indeed male, and that most of my favorite books have been written by males. Any list of my favorite authors would include, Ernest Hemingway, Robert E. Howard, Karl Edward Wagner, Ray Bradbury, Louis L’Amour. Some of my most recent favorites are Scott Westerfeld and David Gemmell. Why are they all males? Am I truly a sexist reader?

First, in my defense let me say that there are a number of women writers who I do enjoy. I read everything I could find by Andre Norton when I was a teenager. She was a great adventure writer. Of course, a devil’s advocate might point out that I didn’t know Andre was a woman at the time, and that she almost always wrote about male characters. On the other hand, I knew C. L. Moore and Janet Morris were both women before I ever touched their stuff and yet I’ve read most of Moore’s work and quite a bit of Morris’s. Moore’s Jirel of Joiry stories certainly rank her among my top ten favorite writers in fantasy. Janet Morris’s work in the Thieves’ World books with the character of Tempus was also extraordinary. And one of my favorite books is Frankenstein, written by a woman. I also really like the work of Leigh Brackett, especially her early fantasy/SF stuff. Her Sword of Rhiannon rocked.

On the other hand, I’ve never read anything by many contemporary female authors who are supposed to be good. Books by Amy Tan, Anne Tyler, and Fannie Flag have never shadowed my face. I once read a book by Erica Jong and didn’t like it. I barely made my way through The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. I’ve read but not really enjoyed stories by Octavia Butler. For classic female writers, I only read Ayn Rand because I was required to, and the only thing I ever liked by Eudora Welty was her book on writing. (Lest you think I only “dislike” books by women, let me assure you that Moby Dick, The Metamorphosis, and Leaves of Grass are among my all time least favorite works.)

In a final analysis, I don’t think I’m a sexist reader (let me know if you do). I think I’ve read mostly male writers, and find works by male writers to be atop my lists of favorites, for several reasons. 1) When I was growing up in the 1960s and 1970s women were underrepresented among writers of SF and fantasy, which was most of what I read. When they wrote that “stuff,” as with Moore, Brackett and Norton, I read them. 2) As a male, I like a lot of traditional male stuff. I like battles and gunfights; I like football. Even today there are few women who write westerns, football stories, and books about World War III. When it comes to fiction, I read what I like, and quite often it is the male writer who writes it, quite probably because they like that stuff too. 3) Related to my #2, there are some things I don’t care to see in fiction. I don’t mind a good strong male/ female relationship, but that had better not be the main focus of the book or it’s going to lose me. I don’t care anything at all about recipes, clothes, shopping, or the upkeep of a castle. I recently read a fantasy novel that my girlfriend prized highly and I found it very boring because there were long stretches that focused on the clothing at court and the proper way to accept a suitor’s advances. The prose was well written but, sorry, not my drink of choice. Women and men have much in common, but there are differences that I don’t think diminish either gender. I certainly don’t think it’s sexist to prefer war stories over romances. Nor to prefer romances to westerns.

My final conclusion. “I’m all right.” (Did you see that one coming?

Personal Stuff

I said I was going to try to keep this blog mostly tied to writing and I think I've done so. But sometimes life makes it hard to keep anything on track. I may not be posting much here over the next week or so. My son, Josh, was involved in a car wreck this weekend. He had to have some stitches to his face and has a broken hand. There are various cuts and bruises but he will be OK. Still, there are many issues to be dealt with. Thank God no one else was hurt.

It was such a bizarre weekend all around. Somebody hit my new car in the parking lot and didn't bother to leave a note. The damage, fortunately, wasn't too severe. But I have nice big scrapes to my left rear bumper. Then, Lana and I were sideswipped on the freeway Saturday night by a hit and run drunk driver. We chased him and got his license plate # so it looks like we'll be able to get him to take care of the damage. It must have been especially scary for Lana, who was driving. It felt like the guy had smashed our whole left side in but it wasn't as bad as it felt. They say bad luck comes in threes. That was our three; I hope for at least a year or two.

I have a couple of blog entries that I've sort of gotten a head start on so I might post them later this week. Right now it's just hard for me to feel up to doing much of anything.

Laura Joh Rowland

Laura Joh Rowland is another member of my writing group in the Greater New Orleans area. She writes mysteries and has been doing so since the early 1990s. I know she’s on number 12 or 13 of her series set in old Japan during the days of the Samurai and the wandering poets. Above is the cover of her latest, Red Chrysanthemum, and it too features the detective character of Sano Ichiro. These are crackling good reads with clever plots and gem-quality prose. I don’t often read straight mysteries but these are good and I like the historical quality of them. You can get a little learning in with your fun.

Laura probably does more to keep our writing group “on task” than anyone else in it, and I appreciate that. She comes to the meetings with a lot of ideas about writing and about why one thing appeals to readers or does not. Sometime you’ll have to get her to explain her concept of “turbocharged sincerity.” Laura is also a talented visual artist. I wish I could say the same about myself.

If you haven’t read any of Laura’s stuff I think you’d find it a treat. You can check it out at her website.

By The Way

A few entries ago I mentioned the work of Candice Proctor, who, writing as C.S. Harris, is doing an historical mystery series. I was checking out her website and stumbled upon the cover of her latest book. I thought I'd post it here for you to look at. It's pretty cool. Enjoy.

When Critiques Go Bad

I've finally found something to disagree with in Storyteller, the book by Kate Wilhelm that I've been slowly savoring. And it's something that really chaps my &$$. She mentions a male writer at Clarion who turned in a 10,000 word story all about a hero and his battles. She then says: "The students loved it, called it exciting, and we said no. It was static. Nothing happened." She went on to explain that it was static because: "Something had to change, either in the character, in the situation, or in the reader." She is, of course, wrong! And I wonder how many fine reads have been nipped in the bud by such criticism.

I don't mean to downplay a character's evolution as a person. I love it when that happens. But what is wrong with a story that is just an exciting read? Edgar Rice Burroughs didn't have a lot of character development in his John Carter of Mars books but I certainly devoured them. I still remember them far more fondly than some of the stuff I've read where the character "develops."

Wilhelm is wrong for many reasons. 1) She admits that the students loved the story and found it exciting. In other words, the "readers" liked it and she's correcting them. How can a reader be wrong about what they like? 2) Male readers, in particular, enjoy action, and what's wrong with a work that appeals primarily to males? It used to be that most books were written for males. Now it seems that most books are written for women. I don't think either extreme is desirable. I certainly enjoy many books that my female friends like, and I enjoy some they don't. That fact doesn't bother me at all. 3) Relating to the story in question, there actually is change if Wilhelm thinks about it, change in the readers. If they experience a lifting of mood, an escape for a few minutes from their worries and cares, then they have been changed. Maybe they haven't had an epiphany, but how often do those come around anyway?

Books and stories touch us as readers for different reasons. I treasure Peter Matthiessen's Snow Leopard because it took me on a spiritual journey with its transcendent prose. I loved Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men because of the relationship between the characters and how they changed. I've reread Louis L'Amour's To Tame a Land four times because it brims with action and excitement. I read the essays of Lewis Thomas and Loren Eiseley because they make science rich with mystery and possibility. Together they all changed me.

Cold in the Light

Above is the banner that my girlfriend helped me develop to advertise my novel, Cold in the Light. I thought it had a nice catch phrase, "learn what it means to fear the dark, and the light." It took me four years from start to finish to complete that novel. I didn't work on it every day. I'm a full-time college teacher and researcher so there were often days or weeks when I could not get to it. There were also a lot of days where I could do only a paragraph or two. I deliberately chose to write the book in relatively short scenes because I could often finish a scene in a few days of writing and then I didn't get lost if I had to take a break to grade tests. Even so, I did multiple rewrites to try and get it where I wanted it.

I remember when I finished Cold in the Light. I was happy, and I was proud of it. I thought it was a pretty damn good book. It took me a while to sell it, though, and I finally went with a relatively small press. The three agents who looked at the work first didn't understand it. Two of them thought it had too much Science Fiction in it for them. The third thought my violent scenes were gratuitous. The science fiction elements are actually pretty minimal; the book is a horror/thriller. And as for the violence, well 1) horror has violence in it, and 2) I was writing in part about a group of beings for whom the ability to deal violence is the main focus of their lives. I still think I succeeded, and those who have read the book have largely agreed. You can find their comments around the net, such as at Amazon,at the publisher's site, (Invisible College Press), and other places. The problem is, not enough folks have read it.

Writers often speak of their books as if they were their children. I think of Cold in the Light as my underachieving son. I thought I'd given him all the preparation I could before I turned him loose in the world, but the world didn't appreciate him like I did. The world didn't recognize his talent. But I love him anyway and I still think he has what it takes to succeed. I just think he needs to catch a break.

Or maybe I'm just fooling myself.

A Life In Books

Moving brings home to me more clearly than anything else the extent to which books play a major role in my life. For the past several weekends my girlfriend and I have been making frequent trips in our cars over to our new place in Abita Springs with boxes of "stuff." 75% percent of that stuff has been books, and 90% of those have been mine. Every kind of genre is represented, from the garish to the literary, from the west that never was to the future that never will be.

Many of those boxes hold dreams for me. I remember when I wanted to be John Carter of Barsoom, or Dray Prescot of Scorpio, or Flandry of Terra; I think it was just yesterday. Other boxes are full of books I haven't yet read, but which I will get around to if I have enough time on Earth.

Sometimes I think I ought to cull my books a little, strengthen the herd by getting rid of the weak. But the few times I've attempted it I've always regretted it. Even if I don't like a book, I find that I have to keep it around because some day I'll want to refer to it, even if it's just to pan it. I still have some of the first books I ever bought, back when my grade school had a reading program and you could get them for 25 cents each. I also buy books that I once checked out of libraries or that friends had loaned me. I didn't have much money in the old days so I scrounged for reading material however I could. Now that I have a bit more disposable income, I find I enjoy spending it on those pleasant memories from the past.

I often wonder if mine will be the last generation to treasure books so highly. My 19 year old son doesn't read much. He certainly doesn't collect books. His friends are the same. Most people today who see my collection express either amazement or amusement. Not many of them suffer envy. I'm already considered an eccentric because of how much I read and how many books I own. I wonder how long it'll be before I'm treated like the little old lady with 72 cats, how long before I become the: "creepy guy with all the books who keeps to himself?"

I think I might enjoy the role.

Technology is Our Master

It's been said by better folks than me, but truths sometimes bear repeating. Technology is the master in our relationship, not us humans. I came in this morning to work and my internet and email were down. Oh, I found work to do, but I couldn't do that which most needed to be done. I'd worked on some items last night at home and emailed them to myself to finish. That didn't happen, and I didn't want to redo everything I'd done last night so I'll have to wait until email comes up or until I get home again.

The net came up eventually, so I was able to get this post in, but email is still down and I wonder how many emergencies are sitting in my inbox to deal with. That probably sounds overly dramatic, but I'm a teacher and I give tests today. I'll bet there are several emails from students asking questions about the test. There may be students who email to say they can't make it. One of my colleagues teaches an "online" course. Needless to say they didn't meet today. Writing related emails will probably wait, but by the time I get home I'll be tired and I'll have to catch up with work by cutting back on sleep.

Technology rules
Humans drool

Star One Delta

An SF group out of Baton Rouge, Louisiana has invited me to their annual con. The group is called Star One Delta, and the con looks like a one day affair. It's set for Saturday, August 5. For those of you who don't know, Baton Rouge is Louisiana's state capital and is about an hour's drive from New Orleans. It's a pretty cool place to visit.

I know I'll be sitting on one writing panel at the con, and may have a table in the dealer's room. If you'd like to know more, check out Star One Delta. Drop by and chat. It should be fun.

Fiction versus nonfiction

I find writing nonfiction considerably easier than writing fiction. I don’t think this was always the case for me. I used to think writing nonfiction was hard, before I had done it, and that fiction was easy because you just “made it up.” Now I know that nonfiction comes with a set of guidelines. You have facts to guide you, which is almost like having an outline. And fiction can go anywhere. Yes, fiction writers also have to know facts that give their writing verisimilitude, and there are definite limits on what they can do and can’t do, but fiction writers don’t have to start at Point A and end up at Point B. This makes their job “harder” actually, because they have to choose among the routes they can take. In addition, I find that fiction requires more out of me on a personal level than nonfiction does. I can write nonfiction even if I’m not passionately involved with the topic, but to write fiction I have to feel it. I have to “live” in the world I’m creating, and that takes emotional energy that is not always easy to come by. Anyone out there have similar experiences? Or different ones for that matter.

Another Column Done

I turned in another column for The Illuminata, that online newsletter that I write for. This one is on Blogs and blogging. (I wonder where I got that idea?) I've got plenty of other writing related stuff going on, as well. I'm working on something cool for a friend, which I'll announce here in the next week or two, and am trying to finish up my mailing for the 200th issue of REHupa, the Robert E. Howard United Press Association. Around the outskirts of that, I have an editorial due for The Dark Man, the Journal of Robert E. Howard studies, for which I'm Asisstant Editor. There's also that pesky "work" thing. No rest for the weary writer, but I guess we must like it that way.

When Fictioneers Lie Too Much

My writing group met last night, and we got on the subject of historical fiction and the historical inaccuracies that bedevil it. I remember L. Sprague de Camp writing that the first time he picked up a story by Robert E. Howard he had immediately tossed it aside because Howard had Romans using stirrups and the Romans had no such thing. I must admit the stirrup thing didn't bother me a bit, although I guess it's as anachronistic as having a Civil War soldier glance at his wristwatch. On the other hand, I've read books where the author made historical or factual errors and my response has been: "What an idiot. Doesn't this guy know anything?" So what's my reasoning? As near as I can figure, here it is below, though don't expect it to be logical. I do think these are much the same reasons others use, however.

1. I'll forgive the error if I don't even know it's an error. Frankly, I didn't know the Romans didn't have stirrups.

2. I'll forgive the error if it's a minor one. If the clothing isn't exactly right, but it's pretty close, who cares? I don't. I don't read fiction because I want to learn the precise details of another time or culture. There are textbooks for that.

3. I'll forgive the error (even if grudgingly) if the story is just a ripping fine read.

4. I won't forgive the error if it would have been easy to get it right. If a writer has the wrong year for the Gettysburg Address then I'm going to be irritated since a couple minutes of checking would have revealed the correct answer.

5. I won't forgive the error if the writer holds himself or herself up as an authority and claims that they got it all right. I've seen writers who put in notes at the end of their books to make the reader aware of anything they changed for purposes of the story. That I respect. But don't tell me you're an expert and then proceed to fill your pages with nonsense.

I think that's about it for me, but perhaps others out there have different opinions. What do you think?

New House

Well, as of Friday, Lana and I are the proud owners of a house just outside Abita Springs, Louisiana. Up until then it was just paperwork, but now the real work begins--the moving. We started hauling stuff over yesterday, but we have our apartment for another month so we don't plan to overwork ourselves. Just moving the books will take us a while, though.