Wellll the New Year is almost upon us. As I get older, I find that these things move faster, just like mom always promised me they would. Not that I’m ancient and decrepit yet– just really looking forward to it. As I’m sure the next few days (particularly once my parents come into town for the whole New Year’s Eve Celebration thing) will pass in a pleasant (champagne-assisted) haze, I thought I’d do the whole end of year posting thing now.

I’ll be brief: 2008 was way better than I expected it to be. There is now a faint possibility that somewhere out there, someone holds a copy of a book with my name in it that entertained them. (Or disturbed them, but around here that’s the same thing.) So, that about says it.

Next year, the major goal is to make it even better. I know, massive, huh? Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll make a detailed list of crap I need to accomplish on my personal blog– y’all get spared here. That’s right, I love you that much. I do think that I’m going to have a New Year’s Resolution this time though, which I’ve never done before.

I’m going to stop explaining why, when I talk about writing, I talk about my characters like they’re real. “Kay wants this” or “Fiona won’t do that”, etc., etc.

Everyone already knows why I do it, because over half of them do it too (this means you!). And anyone who says they don’t know why is either (a) pretending so they can be a douchebag and feel superior in their sanity or (b) probably not someone who’d enjoy my company even if I didn’t do it. So it’s a bit silly to over-explain the issue, isn’t it? I know this should sound like something one realizes at 13, but hey, I’m still getting used to discussing writing like it’s something I’m semi-serious about rather than it being a closeted and fruitless hobby. Gimme a break!

And in closing, I leave you with the awesome of my new calendar, which I could not wait for the new year to put up:

Yeah, that’s totally Jon Snow and Ghost. A Song of Ice and Fire and nerdy fantasy art for the win! If you don’t believe me, well, the power of George RR Martin compels you. (No, I am not that grouchy about the lateness of A Dance with Dragons. I’d rather it deliver and be slow than suck and be rushed, at the end of the day. I mean, he actually hasn’t killed my favorite characters yet! I can hardly believe it!)

—————-
Now playing: The Stone Roses – I Wanna Be Adored
posted with FoxyTunes

Well, my family celebrates Christmas, so even though I’m a heathen, I like to keep up the traditions. I have a teeny tiny tree and a lone string of lights, and some stockings. I got a pile of books and a new computer chair that is a bit like a race car. And I think I’m going to find a decent BluRay player soon, too. Good stuff!

(My mom just called. She was playing her new Guitar Hero: World Tour game and wanted me to hear the Oasis song. Ha!)

So happy feelings from me and my new addition to the Desk of Endless Awesome Clutter (it helps, really!), Edwin: The Unfortunately Pink Reindeer, aka the First Annual Sin Award. Because Natalie is great.

Also, I think The Lion in Winter will be our new Christmas Tradition movie. It’s seasonal, and there’s no way you can’t watch that and feel a whole lot better about how screwed up your own family is! A Christmas Miracle! (Plus, it’s made of awesome. Not sparkly awesome, like Edwin… but 12th century awesome, which is also good.)

—————-
Now playing: John Wilbye – O wretched man
posted with FoxyTunes

I considered posting an actual review of this book I’m reading, Peter Robb’s M: The Man Who Became Caravaggio. But I think I can sum my feelings up best with a picture and a short comment.

Any book that says this kid’s smile is “insolently sexy” or otherwise “inviting” is just trying way too hard:

Detail of Caravaggio’s “John the Baptist I”

Not to mention that such commentary makes one reflect upon the sanity of the author. In ways that make me wish I believed in hell. It looks like a painting of a kid who just got licked on the nose by a sheep. Now, as my friend Reenie points out, I cannot comment on the ram’s take on the situation. It may be more sinister. But let’s be serious, here.

That said, I’ve been lucky enough to see a few of Caravaggio’s paintings in person in my lifetime, and at the risk of sounding uber-melodramatic, I gotta admit that they’ve all stopped my heart for a few seconds. The man painted saints with the faces of Roman street people, much to the shock of the counter-reformation, delighted in invading your space and pulling you into his (ahh trompe-l’œil!), and was just all around brilliant and revolutionary at hooking his viewer.

You think about it, and this is the goal of every writer, artist, musician, etc. The books (or whatever) that show us the truth in unexpected ways are the ones we love the most. So someone who was doing it at the turn of the seventeenth century is fascinating on multiple levels, both academic and personal.

I’m a bit of a fangirl, is what I mean to say. And other than the weird Freudian tendencies of the author, this is a pretty interesting read. He reflects what’s best and most interesting in the painter, so much so that I can almost forgive him his rare irresponsible liberties with the scholarship. I had tenured professors in grad school who were much worse. (This is officially the least long-winded I’ve ever been about art. In my life. Go me.)

In other news, I had a spectacularly unproductive month. I wrote one 8k short story, and it’s completely devoid of fantastic or horrific content, though I’m glad I wrote it, and hope I can eventually make something of it. (Barry recently discussed how this can happen, and I think Aaron’s about to do the same). I prepped a full manuscript for submission, which made me a little crazy, but also made me realize I don’t hate my own book. I (think I) finalized edits on a story for slated for a July ‘09 Anthology of Awesome, under the guidance of two wonderful editors. I got one older story edited up and submitted to a magazine with the help of my generous beta-editor friends. And I’ve been relying heavily on my love of lists and anal retentive organization to build the foundations of a strange epic fantasy/clockpunk world that’s quickly spiraling out of control.

See, I look at that and I think, no, you’ve worked rather hard, haven’t you, for the month after writing a novel in two weeks? But I guess as long as I never feel like I’m working hard enough, I’ll stay hungry, right?

With that, this dorky little blog will likely be silent until after Christmas. My best friend is coming in from Pittsburgh this afternoon, and we’re going to hit up the Oasis show in town. (This makes number 8 for me I think, or maybe 9. Again, with the obsessive fangirling. I might as well be 15, still in love with the same bad music, excellent art, decent books and sci-fi.) And then, you know. Time to make the traditional Christmas Chili!

Have a good one, y’all.

—————-
Now playing: Oasis – Bag It Up
posted with FoxyTunes

Another book worth mentioning, Extraordinary Engines, a steampunk anthology edited by Nick Gevers. I saw this on the shelf in Borders last time I was there and thought it looked rad. I particularly enjoy short stories after writing something long and involved, as it helps to relieve some mental pressure build-up, so it was good timing after Nano.

This one shares that quality typical amongst well-done anthologies– all the stories are good, but not every person is going to love every story. Inevitably, however, they will love enough to make it worth their $7-12. This is the reason I love anthologies– I’m always very curious to know which ones will strike my fancy, and even the ones I’m not into are worth it, since they make me branch out.

Also, I like steampunk. I’ve been messing around with the idea of a clockpunk/epic fantasy type thing for a few months now, I like it so much. (Yes, really. Don’t ask, I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.) I like the expected Very-Victorian-London ones just as much as the unexpected Wild-West-American ones and the Cracky-Other-World-Fantasy-or-Skiffy ones. Another good reason to pick this thing up, if you like different flavors. So 2-3 sentences about each story, I think, and you can decide if it sounds interesting or not.

Steampunch by James Lovegrove -
A good one to draw you in at first– mechanical boxers, what more do you need to know? I liked the PoV in particular, the old timer telling us a story as we get off the transport. It’s more skiffy than some of the others, which is fun, and has a cool ending, too.

Static by Marly Youmans -
Rad world concept, with everything charged with static electricity. Beautifully written, carefully rendered, but in general if there’s not a lot of plot in a story, I need to at least like one of the characters. I’m a philistine like that.

Speed, Speed the Cable by Kage Baker -
Featuring Bell-Fairfax from Baker’s Company series. This is one of the excellent Victorian adventure-type tales in these books, one of my favorite manifestations of the genre (not to mention that it’s pretty much The Classic). Very fun.

Elementals by Ian R. MacLeod -
Industrial Revolution theoretical/supernatural stuff that messes with your head. The awesome pseudo-scientific elements put it squarely in my field of interest, but this really is one of the most engrossing tales in the collection. I read it on the Metro going back and forth to the District and was very worried I’d miss my stop.

Machine Maid by Margo Lanagan -
More head-screwing, this time from the Aussie frontier camp. I was dreadfully uncomfortable almost the entire time reading this, and I enjoyed it for that. The title says a lot, but there are also issues of unwanted marriages and repressed intellect at work.

Lady Witherspoon’s Solution by James Morrow -
More excellent pseudo-science. This one is a decided and guiltily delightful rip on attitudes of sex and race in an upper-class Victorian world– things that have always fascinated me (since they strike us now as hilarious). The characters are my favorite kinds: the ones you like when you know you shouldn’t. Loved it.

Hannah by Kieth Brooke -
One of the more overtly dark offerings, murder and mad science. It’s short and packs a punch, atmospherically falling somewhere between a Sherlock Holmes mystery and Frankenstein horror. Nicely done, and left a cold impression on me.

Petrolpunk by Adam Roberts -
More high adventure in alternate realities, centered in London. It took me about five pages to really get into it, just because the narrative is inexplicably thick and I thought “God, this is trying too hard.” But once I was adjusted to the voice, I had a great time with the whole mad story.

American Cheetah by Robert Reed -
Hard for me not to love a story (sort of) involving one of my historical fascinations, Abe Lincoln. It’s not the snappiest plot, but it’s so well done I didn’t mind in the least, and the superimposing of some of Lincoln’s habits and philosophizing tendencies was really brilliantly carried off. I got a kick out of it.

Fixing Hanover by Jeff VanderMeer -
An inventor hiding from his past in a relatively idyllic, hidden island town after he washed up on their shore. The excellence of this one is in the unfolding of the backstory and the delicate immediacy of the prose (I swear I could smell salt water the whole time). Unsurprising, considering the source, but there it is.

The Lollygang Save the World on Accident by Jay Lake -
As entertaining as you’d expect. The plot isn’t complicated or even much at all, but the fabulous world of the Big Pipe’s society and technology, and the accidental heroism of Per are more than enough to make it a great read. Also, the man just has a way with words that makes the strangest things seem beautiful.

The Dream of Reason by Jeffrey Ford -
I am going to find some of this guy’s books like, yesterday. Otherworldly steampunk and my beloved pseudo-science. When I say otherworldly I do mean it in both senses of the word; it’s both taking place somewhere Else, rather than being alternate history, and it’s ethereal, dreamlike. One of my favorites.

And that’s my much-more-than-two-cents on the subject.

—————-
Now playing: The Charlatans – Toothache (Chemical Risk Remix)
posted with FoxyTunes

And now, book talk—Michael Stone’s Fourtold, to be precise, a collection of four dark and strange and lovely novellas.

There’s a subtlety to his style, a disarming straightforwardness (not to be mistaken for simplicity) that makes you think you know what you can expect from these stories. You can’t– not to ruin the surprise. You think you’re getting something easy to digest, but it’s building these opulent castles in your mind while you’re carried off by the story. I don’t know where he learned this trick, but if he could bottle it and sell it, I’d buy a whole case or three.

His characters are odd, and in their oddity immensely true-to-life—not the kind of sculptures that unnerve you by being a little too perfectly human, but the kind that you never notice aren’t real in the first place. They have all the bumps and scrapes and wrinkles, and you come to know them almost as if by accident. He’s made it somehow plausible that it’s my next door neighbor with the mouth in his forehead and the trip to a particular clinic, or chewing (yuk!) ex tabs to keep the sleep disorders at bay. They’re flawed and sometimes ridiculous, and I cared very much about what would happen to the surprisingly brave Solomon Barley, desperate Kasper Clark, and all the others. That’s the most important thing for me when reading—if I don’t care about the people you can have the most brilliant plot in the world and I won’t get through it. No worries here on either count.

And I laughed at the most unexpected moments. The novellas, serious though their themes are, and uniformly dark, still refuse to take themselves completely seriously. I’ve read a lot of new books this year, but this is the one I would be sorry to have missed.

A few little words about each, then, to round this off—I’ll steer away from explaining too much of what they’re about; you can get excellent reviews at Book Smugglers or Cate Gardner’s awesome blog that have done that better than I could.

San Ferry Ann

Displaced WW1 ex-pats, medicine man and fire eater—this one is prime example of how oddities of character are made endearing without a reader knowing what’s just happened. A series of strange events and meetings propel massive character evolution here. This also has to be one of my favorite titles of all time, I think, for a worthy tale from a weird place.

The Reconstruction of Kasper Clark

A story about a man with a mouth in his forehead, and adventures in reconstruction at one crazy clinic. Oh the allegory I could make of this one if I were only a little more pretentious! I got entirely too much enjoyment out how truly bizarre this one was—and I don’t mean the kind of bizarre that’s trying too hard to be edgy, I mean the kind of bizarre we’ve all seen in our dreams, but never quite articulate properly.

The Terra Cotta Warrior

As you might expect from the title, there’s a bust up with one of the Emperor’s tomb guardians involved. This one has some of the most simultaneously terrifying and hilarious action-packed visuals I’ve ever read, I’m totally convinced. Two words for you: polo mallet. I kept laughing and thinking it was terrible to laugh at this horrific series of events. And that’s what makes it so much fun.

The Lemon Man

This one made my heart pound. When our esteemed author learned of my sleep issues, he said I’d like this one; he was right, it’s my favorite of the four. Narcolepsy, sleep paralysis, and heaven. It’s honest, it’s scary, it’s beyond strange, and when I was done I felt like someone had just beaten the hell out of me. Which sounds like an odd thing to say as a compliment, but I do mean it as such, and violently.

Something really interesting, too: everyone who reads it seems to have a different favorite. I think that speaks to the overall awesome of the collection, don’t you?

There’s a paperback release on the horizon for this one, and you can keep tabs on it over at the author’s blog, where he’s just announced a contest to win a free autographed copy. I also recommend this telling (and often hilarious) interview from Book Smugglers, if you’re not already convinced that you need this book. Or even if you are.

(I totally want the Lemon Man prequel/sequel, personally.)

Hm, I was going to talk about some steampunk too, but I’ve gone on quite enough for one day. Breathe your sigh of relief, my friends. Enjoy the silence while it lasts.

—————-
Now playing: Franz Ferdinand – Ulysses
posted with FoxyTunes