Posts Tagged ‘fantasy’

Captain Blood’s B00ty” on Starship Sofa

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There’s a new, excellently-​​read pod­cast of my short story “Captain Blood’s B00ty” story over on Starship Sofa today. Give it a lis­ten and let me know what you think.

This story pre­vi­ously appeared in the Shimmer pirate issue, edited by John Joseph Adams.

I’m sorry things have been so quiet around here lately. I just don’t have much to say right now.  Soon though.

an Interview with Greg van Eekhout, author of Norse Code

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Greg van Eekhout is one of the fun­ni­est con atten­dees I have had the plea­sure of being around. On top of that, he’s a damned good writer with sto­ries like “The Osteomancer’s Son” and “Will You Be An Astronaut?” (appear­ing at EscapePod soon, read by Christiana Ellis).  Greg’s first novel was recently released.  I’ve watched the progress of Greg writ­ing this book on his blog, and so I’ve really been look­ing for­ward to read­ing it.

A Quick Review of Norse Code

Norse Code is Greg’s debut novel, and it’s a fun one. The book focuses on two char­ac­ters pri­mar­ily. The first is Mist, a recently recruited Valkyrie who is work­ing for the Norse Code project. The goal of the Norse Code project is to find and recruit the descen­dants of Odin to pre­pare for the com­ing Ragnarok. The sec­ond is the iten­er­ant Norse god Hermod, the only liv­ing entity to ever travel to Helheim and return.

It’ll come as no sur­prise to you that the paths of these two pro­tag­o­nists cross in the inevitable run-​​up to Ragnarok. Along the way, we meet a cast of char­ac­ters both drawn from Norse mythol­ogy and not, but all are  imbued with a pecu­liar van Eekhout sense of humor. This is not a comedic story exactly, but aspects of it are very funny.

Norse Code does feel at times like a first novel in that you sense the author feels a bit uncer­tain about the plot in places, but van Eekhout’s will­ing­ness to take what you know about Norse mythol­ogy and twist it for his needs makes this a hell of a lot of fun to read. Mist and Hermod are heroes in an older sense, not ter­ri­bly flawed, but sim­ply decent peo­ple with rocky pasts deter­mined to do the right thing despite that.

It’s a short read, one I man­aged to burn through in an after­noon, so you really have no excuse for not pick­ing it up and giv­ing it a try. While the novel didn’t pack the same punch for me as some of Greg’s short sto­ries, it’s a fine first out­ing and demon­strates that he’s an author to keep Odin’s eye on in the future.

The Interview

Can you share with me a lit­tle bit about the day-​​to-​​day nuts-​​and-​​bolts of your writ­ing process? How did you make time to write the book? How long did it take you to write the book from first con­ceiv­ing the idea to fin­ish­ing the book and sub­mit­ting it for publication?

I used to be able to talk about mak­ing time to write with at least some small degree of cred­i­bil­ity, because I had a job that often took up way more than forty hours a week, and I still found time to write sim­ply by mak­ing sure I started each day with an hour of writ­ing. For me, that kind of con­sis­tency was the key. But I don’t have a day job right now and I have the lux­ury of more writ­ing time, and I don’t blame peo­ple if they don’t want to lis­ten to me talk about carv­ing out time and ded­i­ca­tion and all that. That being said, peo­ple who really want to write find the time, some­how. Maybe by giv­ing up TV or games or what­ever. Maybe by devot­ing one hour before work to writ­ing, as I did. Maybe by writ­ing on their lunch break or on the bus. Maybe by just get­ting ten min­utes here, five min­utes there. It adds up. Really, it does.

It took me years and years and years to write Norse Code if you count all the false starts, words that got tossed out (at one point, 30,000 of them in one fell swoop), time squan­dered think­ing about writ­ing the book instead of writ­ing it, and time spent writ­ing short sto­ries and other things because I was stuck on the book. I’m going to say maybe ten years want­ing to write Norse Code, and maybe two years actu­ally work­ing on it. Fortunately, the book I wrote after Norse Code went much more quickly and smoothly.

I noticed quite a few L.A. cof­fee shops men­tioned. Are these all real places that you know from grow­ing up in L.A.? We’ve seen the pho­tos you take for each writ­ing ses­sion of your empty cups. How many cups of cof­fee did you drink in the process of writ­ing Norse Code?

I did grow up in L.A., but there really weren’t many cof­fee joints back then. Instead, we had “spooky houses,” where you were given a pot of a thick, pudding-​​like bev­er­age, an open flame with which to soften it, and sort of a com­bi­na­tion of spoon, fork, and hook, which we called a “spook.” Nonetheless, the cof­fee houses in Norse Code are real places. I think a con­ser­v­a­tive esti­mate for the num­ber of cups of cof­fee con­sumed dur­ing the com­po­si­tion of Norse Code would be 1,000. It takes a mil­lion bad words, 10,000 hours of prac­tice, or 1,000 cups of cof­fee before you can begin to say you’ve passed out of your appren­tice­ship. Really, the point of all those pic­tures of cof­fee cups next to my com­puter weren’t to show how much cof­fee I drink, but just a way of mark­ing the fact that, on the day each photo was posted to my blog, I worked on the book. Just some­thing dif­fer­ent than post­ing a word count.

What kind of research did you do to write the book–it’s clear that you famil­iar­ized your­self with Norse mythol­ogy. Can you talk about your research process and how it led to the plot you came up with for the book?

The pri­mary mate­ri­als that give us most of Norse mythol­ogy are short and finite: The Elder, or poetic, Edda, and the Younger, or prose, Edda. We’re only talk­ing a few hun­dred pages here, and they were my chief research mate­ri­als. H.R. Ellis Davidson also has some good books on Norse mythol­ogy, and I used wikipedia and pan​theon​.org some­times as well. My method was to read the Eddas and just sort of keep track of things that seemed par­tic­u­larly cool, like wolves eat­ing the moon and stuff like that. Sometimes it just led me to think through the impli­ca­tions of the myth, which made the plot obvi­ous to me. For instance, when you’ve got a story about the end of the world, and the myth tells you some gods are des­tined to sur­vive it and pre­side over the world that comes after­wards, you apply a basic what-​​if to that sit­u­a­tion. What if I were a god des­tined to sur­vive the end of the world and take over ruler­ship? Would I just wait for the end of the world to hap­pen? Would I encour­age it along? How would I do that? And so forth.

Some parts of the book seemed a bit trun­cated, like the Norse Code aspect itself. Did the Norse Code project play a larger part in the book in ear­lier drafts, and if so, what led to its role being reduced?

I think when you have a book titled Norse Code, peo­ple are right to expect a big part of the book to be devoted to Norse Code (which in the book is a genomics oper­a­tion run by Valkyries). But I never intended that par­tic­u­lar aspect of the book to play a huge role. What hap­pened was, the book was called “Greg’s Damn Norse Novel” for most of the time I was writ­ing it. When it came time to sub­mit it, it needed a real title. Norse Code is all I could come up with. I sort of expected the pub­lisher to give me a “real” title, but I guess they were happy with it, so it stuck.

What’s next from Greg in terms of books? It seems that Norse Code is a stand-​​alone book, which is sur­pris­ing given all the tril­ogy deals genre writ­ers seem to be get­ting lately.

I actu­ally can’t talk about what’s next! I’m not con­tracted to write any­thing else for the pub­lisher of Norse Code, though they get first look at the next book I write for adults. But the next thing out from me won’t be a book for adults, and when I’m free to talk about it, you can believe I’ll be Mr. Blabby McInterHype wher­ever I can.

Is Norse Code your writ­ten first novel in addi­tion to being your first pub­lished one, or did you write oth­ers before sell­ing Norse Code?

Norse Code is actu­ally the sec­ond book I’ve fin­ished. Somewhere in the mid­dle of that stalled-​​out time I men­tioned ear­lier, I wrote a whole other book. That one’s trunked for now, but you never know. Another whack or two at it, and it could pos­si­bly be decent enough to try to sell. If not, though, that’s okay. My goal with the cur­rently trunked novel was just to fin­ish a book, so I con­sider it a suc­cess even if it never leaves my hard drive. Writing it gave me the con­fi­dence to fin­ish Norse Code, and fin­ish­ing and sell­ing Norse Code gave me the con­fi­dence to write other books, so that first, unsold novel will always be impor­tant to me.

Thanks for answer­ing my ques­tions, Greg!  So have any of you read Norse Code? What did you think?

An Interview with Fantasy Author C. C. Finlay (with a side of review)

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Charles Coleman Finlay is an author you are famil­iar with if you’ve read more than a cou­ple of issues of the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. His recent story, “The Political Prisoner” was a Nebula Award nom­i­nee and is cur­rently a Hugo Nominee and a Sturgeon nom­i­nee. And of course, it’ll be in the next vol­ume of Gardner Dozois’ Year’s Best.

I’ve known Charlie since I started writ­ing through his involve­ment with the Online Writers Workshop. Charlie was the first pro­fes­sional author I really got to know, and he was immensely help­ful in help­ing me learn the ropes. It’s been really edu­ca­tional to watch his career progress, as he’s always been will­ing to share the ins and outs of his expe­ri­ences in publishing.

Let’s talk about the first book, and then head into the interview.

A Quick Review of The Patriot Witch

The first book of his Traitor to the Crown series, The Patriot Witch intro­duces us to the world of 1770s America on the verge of a war with the Empire. Our pro­tag­o­nist, Proctor Brown, would appear to be your aver­age farmer of the period. He has his wife picked out, plans to expand his farm. He’s a min­ute­man, but hopes that the scuf­fle that’s brew­ing doesn’t turn into a war, but if it does, he’ll clearly side with the patri­ots. But there’s just one other thing– Proctor Brown is a witch. He’s inher­ited his abil­ity from his mother, who is orig­i­nally from Salem, and has kept her tal­ent secret.

When Proctor wit­nesses the use of magic by a British sol­dier, he begins to real­ize that he may have to use his tal­ent and fight magic with magic. And he’s off on a wild adven­ture that takes him through some of the early bat­tles of the war.

Finlay’s writ­ing is tight, lean prose, and he espe­cially writes action well. I found myself hold­ing my breath a bit dur­ing some of the tense bat­tle scenes. One thing that really stood out is that war kills peo­ple much more inde­scrim­i­nately than I expected. The pro­tag­o­nist will be hav­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with some­one and then five pages later, their leg will be blown off by a mus­ket. It really drove home the nature of war in this time period for me.

His take on magic is really inter­est­ing, and def­i­nitely draws from the lore of the time period regard­ing witches. Proctor is only just learn­ing what magic is capa­ble of, but by the end of the first book, he’s con­sid­er­ably more skilled than before.

The series is made up of 3 books: The Patriot Witch, A Spell for the Revolution, and The Demon Redcoat. The first two books are already released, and the third will be out shortly.

An Interview with C.C. Finlay

Can you share with me a lit­tle bit about the day-​​to-​​day nuts-​​and-​​bolts of your writ­ing process? How did you make time to write the book, with your full fam­ily life and a full time job? How long did it take you to write the book from first con­ceiv­ing the idea to fin­ish­ing the book and sub­mit­ting it for publication?

There are four of us at home, includ­ing two writ­ers and two teenage boys, all piled up on top of one another. Our house isn’t big enough for us to have a room where Rae (my wife and some­times co-​​author, Rae Carson Finlay) or I can get away for enough peace and quiet to write. So when I’m work­ing on some­thing, I either do it late at night after every­one else goes to bed, or I leave the house and find some­place else to work. You’ll see Luck Bros Coffee in Grandview Heights, Ohio, men­tioned in the acknowl­edge­ments of my books. That’s because I set up office for months in one of their front booths, and they kept me qui­etly and effi­ciently sup­plied with fresh cof­fee and grilled cheese sand­wiches while I wrote.

How did you make time to write the book, with your full fam­ily life and a full time job?

The only way to make enough time to write was to take it away from other things. I gave up week­ends. I spent my weeks of vaca­tion hun­kered over the key­board. I neglected wash­ing dishes or vac­u­um­ing the house. I have three years’ worth of papers spilling out of boxes in need of sort­ing and fil­ing. But I don’t miss work, and I don’t skip my kids’ soc­cer games or school plays unless I’m out of town at a convention.

How long did it take you to write the book from first con­ceiv­ing the idea to fin­ish­ing the book and sub­mit­ting it for publication?

Back in 2006, my agent called me and asked if I had any ideas for his­tor­i­cal fan­tasy series. He thought that would take advan­tage of my back­ground as a his­to­rian and play to my strengths as a writer. I didn’t have any ideas at the moment, but I said if he gave me a week­end I’d see what I could come up with.

That was on a Thursday after­noon. By Monday morn­ing, I had a detailed out­line for the Traitor to the Crown series. Once I had the idea for a secret his­tory about witches fight­ing the Revolution, every­thing sort of clicked into place. Over the next cou­ple weeks, I wrote sev­enty pages of sam­ple chap­ters. Then my agent took the series to Del Rey to see if they were inter­ested. The nego­ti­a­tion process took about a year. I rewrote and added to the sam­ple chap­ters (sell­ing a short story ver­sion of it to Fantasy & Science Fiction), did research on the period and on witch­craft, and refined the outlines.

At the begin­ning of June, 2007, we had a deal. That’s when the writ­ing took off like a rocket. I was sup­posed to write the three books over nine months. It was closer to eigh­teen. The sec­ond book was the hard­est one to pull together. The third book devi­ated the far­thest from the orig­i­nal out­line, but all the pieces fell into place. I turned in the final book in January, 2009. So from first con­cept to all three books fin­ished and pub­lished took three years. The actual writ­ing was more like eigh­teen months.

I know that you’re the founder of the nov­el­ist work­shop Blue Heaven, with past atten­dees includ­ing Tobias Buckell, Greg van Eekhout and Sarah Prineas, and you thank sev­eral of your fel­low work­shop­pers in the acknowl­edge­ments. Can you give some spe­cific exam­ples about how the work­shop expe­ri­ence improved The Patriot Witch and the sub­se­quent books?

In 2007, I took 114 pages of The Patriot Witch and my out­line to Blue Heaven, and I hashed out the strengths and prob­lems of the novel in detail with Greg van Eekhout and Holly McDowell. In 2008, I only had about 250 pages of A Spell for the Revolution done, but Paul Melko and Daryl Gregory put it through the paces and made sure I got on track for the right end­ing. In both cases, being able to work­shop the par­tial novel and talk about the direc­tion it appeared to be going and the bet­ter direc­tions that it could go was essen­tial to my process. I didn’t have time to work­shop the third book, but by that time every­thing felt like it was click­ing. And I had Rae to help me as I wrote.

How did you con­ceive of writ­ing the story of Proctor Brown as a three book series? Was it a deci­sion made by the pub­lisher? Also, can you tell me a lit­tle bit about why the books are being released so closely to one another, seper­ated by only a month?

The Revolution lends itself nat­u­rally to a three-​​part nar­ra­tive divi­sion. The first stage of the war took place in New England, in and around Boston. The sec­ond stage of the war involved the over­whelm­ing British vic­to­ries and Washington’s ulti­mate recov­ery in and around New York and New Jersey. The third stage of the war involved the guer­rilla con­flict in the south­ern states and diplo­macy over­seas. There were many vol­un­teers who fol­lowed the war from one stage to the next, so it was easy to imag­ine Proctor as one of those men.

On the pub­lish­ing side, Del Rey was inter­ested in three books. The num­ber one rea­son read­ers buy a book is because they’ve read some­thing else they like by that author. Bringing the books out in quick suc­ces­sion cre­ates a shelf pres­ence and a chance for read­ers who like the first book to imme­di­ately move on to the sec­ond. Del Rey had done some­thing sim­i­lar with the Naomi Novik books and wanted to try it again.

It sounds like, also from your acknow­eldge­ments, that much of the research for the book came eas­ily due to your job as a research assis­tant. One thing that always strikes me as ter­ri­fy­ing about writ­ing sto­ries with a his­tor­i­cal basis is get­ting some of the details wrong. Was your approach here to basi­cally steep your­self so utterly in the time period via pri­mary lit­er­a­ture? Did you find any aspects dif­fi­cult to get “right”?

You’ll always get some­thing wrong. Four dif­fer­ent peo­ple copy-​​edited or proofed the book and a cou­ple errors still slipped through. It’s even worse when you’re doing the his­tory because you don’t have some­one there to check you on every sin­gle detail. Sherwood Smith, in her oth­er­wise favor­able review of the book, points out a mis­take about young ladies’ head­wear in the very first pages.

That said, what I did was spend as much time in pri­mary sources as I could, and not just writ­ten sources, but images of the cloth­ing, weapons, and archi­tec­ture of the period. Whenever I assumed I knew some­thing, I double-​​checked it, because you make the most mis­takes on the things you think you know. I tried to make sure the details enhanced the story, mak­ing it vivid and imme­di­ate, so I was also ruth­less about cut­ting out infor­ma­tion that didn’t drive the nar­ra­tive for­ward. In the end, the his­tory must serve the story, not the other way around.

The Traitor to the Crown series marks your first series. Your first novel, The Prodigal Troll, was pub­lished by Pyr. What were the pro­fes­sional lessons you learned from your first book that you took and applied in the writ­ing and mar­ket­ing to pub­lish­ers of your lat­est series?

The only lessons that I applied are in the writ­ing of the books. The Prodigal Troll was struc­tured more episod­i­cally, with dif­fer­ent POV char­ac­ters that made each sec­tion feel like it had come to a full con­clu­sion. That was a nat­ural out­growth of the lessons I had learned by writ­ing short sto­ries. In the new series, I kept the POV sim­pler and the nar­ra­tive whole so that these would be fast-​​paced books.

I don’t know that I have any use­ful lessons about mar­ket­ing to pub­lish­ers. Lou Anders was just get­ting Pyr started and he came to me as an up-​​and-​​coming author for his debut sea­son. He did every­thing he could to get The Prodigal Troll in front of read­ers, and I’m very grate­ful for the chance I had to work with him. With the new series, it’s a sit­u­a­tion where my agent and I were talk­ing with Chris Schluep at Del Rey from the start. Del Rey pub­lishes Naomi Novik, Harry Turtledove, Greg Keyes–it just seemed like a good fit. Luckily, they agreed!

Thanks again to Mr. Finlay for tak­ing the time to answer my ques­tions. I hope that you all check out his books. I can’t rec­om­mend the first one enough, and the sec­ond title is sit­ting in front of me as I type this, taunt­ing me.

Recommended: The City and The City by China Miéville

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When I stum­bled upon a copy of The City and the City at Barnes and Noble on Saturday after­noon, I knew my week­end was doomed. Ever since Perdido Street Station, and despite the dis­ap­point­ment of The Iron Council, Miéville is still pos­si­bly the most excit­ing author work­ing today for me.

This book is not a New Cobrazon book. It is not out­right fan­tasy in any way, actu­ally. But it’s still fan­tas­tic in a more sim­ple sense of the word. The story is essen­tially a police pro­ce­dural, but one set in the kind of city that is dis­tinctly Miévillian.

If there is a com­mon theme among Miéville’s work, I would say that it is “the city as char­ac­ter.” Because even here, the city takes the fore­front. Bas Lag, also, in most of that series. China has a preter­nat­ural sense for cities, and for what makes them tick. As some­one who has never lived in an urban cen­ter with more than 100,000 peo­ple, I find it utterly fas­ci­nat­ing. It’s as exotic as the Far East to me.

The cities of Bezel and Ul Quoma are utterly unique, at least to my expe­ri­ence. I won’t even say another thing about them, because learn­ing about them as I did, with lit­tle pre­con­cieved notions, was a great way of expe­ri­enc­ing the book. Trust that things are not all that they seem in the open­ing pages. This is no bog stan­dard police pro­ce­dural (and that it would been fine if it was). This is some­thing more, dis­tinctly from the author who gave us one of the best cities in fan­tas­tic literature.

Am I dis­ap­pointed that this wasn’t another book set in his wilder, more fan­tas­ti­cal uni­verse? Before read­ing it, yes, I was. Now that I have read the book, no, not even a lit­tle bit. This new place will have much more main­stream appeal, and any­thing that sells more books for Miéville makes it that much more likely we’ll get more fan­tasy novels–at least I hope so. Miéville clearly has break-​​out poten­tial with the main­stream, and if I have a fear, it’s that the money will be so much bet­ter, he would be a fool not to go down the less fan­tas­tic road and to its broader audi­ences. Everything I have read about China indi­cates that he would never aban­don sci­ence fic­tion and fan­tasy entirely. So I have to go on faith that he won’t.

But even if he pulls a Lethem, I’ll fol­low him wher­ever he goes. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

New Roundbottom: Faery Wintering Nests

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There’s a low-​​key new Roundbottom today detail­ing what faeries tend to do when it gets cold.  Feel free to drop on by and tell us how your local species pre­pare for win­ter, if your world has one.

We’re run­ning a sale until the end of the year, $5 off each mem­ber­ship kit, and large scale lim­ited edi­tion prints are now only $65 a piece.  After ship­ping and print­ing and every­thing, I don’t make much on these, so order a whole bunch okay?

I am lean­ing right now towards wrap­ping Roundbottom up again for the time being at the end of the year.  The real world is too scary right now for me to be able to con­cen­trate on cre­ated and telling such mostly whim­si­cal sto­ries.  That and I really need to find bet­ter ways of mak­ing money.  Roundbottom is a los­ing project, sadly.  If I sell more prints though, it’ll change my mind.

New Podcast: The Girl With the Sun In Her Head

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My story from Polyphony 4,  and one of my ear­li­est suc­cess­ful attempts at the short story (although your def­i­n­i­tion of suc­cess may vary from mine in this case), is now live as a pod­cast on PodCastle.  You can give it a lis­ten over on the PodCastle site, but if you’re into fan­tasy, you should sub­scribe to their feed.  The team over there does good work.  With this pub­li­ca­tion, I have one story left to appear on a podcast–I believe my story “Captain Bl00d’s B00ty” is sup­posed to appear on Starship Sofa at some point, although I haven’t heard any­thing about when.

Special thanks to Jay Lake and Deborah Layne for pur­chas­ing the story orig­i­nally, and again, thank you to the PodCastle staff, Anne, Rachel, et al for pick­ing it for the ‘cast.  I am grateful.

The story, by the way is inspired by the Orbital song of the same name.  I was bang­ing my head against the wall try­ing to come up with a story to write when the song came up in Winamp.  I saw the title and thought, hey, I could write a story about that Girl.    I don’t the story reads like the song, sadly.  I would be awe­some if I could make sto­ries read like songs.

I wrote a series of sto­ries with titles iden­ti­cal to songs.  Another one was Louis Jordan’s “A Chicken Ain’t Nothing But a Bird” about a south­ern family’s rooster named Scratch that was actu­ally a cock­a­trice.  Never went any­where with that one. I’m a huge fan of Lois Jordan’s music.  “Beans and Cornbread” is a clas­sic.  Never wrote a story with that title although I am tempted should I find the time.  I even have an idea of what it’s about.  Coincidentally, corn­bread is one of my favorite foods.  Nothing like some fried cat­fish and corn­bread hush pup­pies on a sum­mer night. Remind me to tell you how I feel about fish frys.  As in, ever­body get­ting together and fry­ing up a buck­et­load of fish, not some new Burger King perversity.

Animal Sidekicks and Good Story Video Games?

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I’m look­ing for help to com­pile a cou­ple of lists.  First, mem­o­rable ani­mal side­kicks in fan­tasy lit­er­a­ture, and sec­ond, video games that tell a great story as well as being at least a decent game.  Here’s what I have so far:

Animals (real ani­mals, no talk­ing peo­ple in the shape of animals)

1.  Toto from Wizard of Oz

2. The dire wolves in George RR Martin’s series

3. The fire­lizards in Pern books

4. The evil mon­key in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Video Games

1. Planescape Torment

2. Fallout

3. Half LIfe 2

4. Bioshock

A new pro rate fantasy e-​​zine?

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Someone passed this link on to me via deli­cious. Does any­one know any­thing about Beneath Ceaseless Skies? What’s their oper­at­ing model? Looks inter­est­ing, content-​​wise, and there’s some nice art fea­tured. I’m not famil­iar with the edi­tor, however.

Why I hate Elves, Dwarves, Dragons, and…

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(This is a very tongue-​​in-​​cheek entry.)

It’s no secret to reg­u­lar read­ers that I loathe so-​​called generic fan­tasy. And it is generic, in a very supermarket-​​product sense. Generic fan­tasy is a pale imi­ta­tion of some­one else’s orig­i­nal prod­uct. It is the yel­low box that says CEREAL on the bot­tom shelf.

Most generic fan­tasy is whole­sale intel­lec­tual thiev­ery from J.R.R. Tolkien. Yes, he him­self built his world based on mythol­ogy, and I am aware that one of his goals was to cre­ate a mythol­ogy for England. But that does not earn lazy authors any points with me if they write using his basic world-​​building ele­ments. I don’t care if your elves are doing some­thing non­tra­di­tional, like build­ing and rac­ing high per­for­mance race cars. I don’t care if they are detec­tives, paired up with a gruff but lov­able dwarf who chomps cig­ars and quips about unsolved cases. You’re still rely­ing mostly on the hard work that Tolkien did for your char­ac­ter­i­za­tion and world building.

Stop being so lazy and make up your own worlds! China Mieville, you get an A from me. Even if I didn’t like Un Lun Dun very much (under­stand­able, being a children’s book).

The same goes for you bloody adults that read this stuff. It’s for­giv­able in the habits of a D&D play­ing teenager, but you should know bet­ter. You’re delib­er­ately impov­er­ish­ing your brain by read­ing this stuff. Put down the Robert Jordan and back away slowly. The Sword of Shanara has been read plenty enough times. Terry Brooks, you have your money. Let’s lock all the copies in a big vault and for­get about it for a few centuries.

It’s got­ten to the point where I can’t even see Tolkien’s work clearly. I am sure he did some­thing impres­sive and new, once upon a time, but I can­not view his work with­out look­ing through the lens cre­ated by the garbage that has fol­lowed it. I might have been a fan if I hadn’t been exposed to every­thing that came after­wards. I do enjoy the Hobbit, I guess, but it’s by no means my favorite fan­tasy novel.

I guess what I am try­ing to say is, if you write and sell a book that involves a reluc­tant, small-​​sized hero being tasked to steal some­thing for the Bigger Folk and fac­ing Mighty Danger, receiv­ing help along the way from the lithe, tall, and earthy peo­ple with pointed ears and high chin bones, it gives me the right to punch you in the gonads. You have been warned.

Now I’m off to write up that dwarf-​​and-​​elf-​​they-​​solve-​​crime! story.