Manawatia a Matariki for last Friday’s holiday and the season — & welcome July 1! 🙂

Yep, it’s that time, so also yep, I’ve posted on Supernatural Underground.

This month it’s The Year of the Villain — in Fantasy fiction — #6:

When The Author Messes With Your Mind

The particular author is Kate Elliott and the mind-messing occurs in her Crossroads trilogy: Spirit Gate, Shadow Gate, Traitor’s Gate.

It’s really take two on last month’s theme, When the Hero Is Really A Villain — but done so subtly in this case that I, for one, didn’t see it coming until the very end. And totally loved for that reason, of course! 😀

To find out all the whys and wherefores, though — for that you’ll have to read the post.

 

Tomorrow is Matariki, which marks the traditional Maori new year, te Mātahi o te Tau, here in New Zealand. The festival takes its name, Matariki, from when the Matariki star cluster (also known as the Pleiades) reappears in the winter sky.

Matariki is a season of renewal, in which those who have passed on in the past year are remembered and ongoing life celebrated — but the Museum of New Zealand, Te Papa Tongarewa, goes into it more fully (and says it so much better 😀 ) here.

I recently rediscovered this quote from a poem by English poet Sarah Williams (1837 – 1868), The Old Astronomer To His Pupil. It feels very apt for Matariki:

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.“

You can read the full poem, here.

And more on Sarah Williams, here.

Recently, I’ve been striving to catch up with posting about the titles on my Book Booty list for 2024. Today it’s time for System Collapse by Martha Wells, which is the seventh title in the Murderbot series.

I have loved Murderbot since first encountering All Systems Red several years ago.

To date, there have been seven titles in the series, five of them novellas. System Collapse is the second novel and a direct sequel to Network Effect, which I consider essential reading in order to fully grok System Collapse.

I make no secret of being a Murderbot fan, so I was delighted to receive System Collapse as a gift. Although unlike the previous books, it did take me some time to get into the story.

Initially it was hard to know what was going on, “because [redacted]”, but it may also have been because the story did not take me where I expected to go at the end of Network Effect. There were also a lot of characters to navigate, with new players coming in while the old “Scooby gang” were still very much part of the mix, all in a much smaller page space (243 as opposed to 349) than Network Effect.

So I had to come to terms with that and recalibrate, before I could really get into the story. But once I made that shift, and particularly once the action started, all the old enjoyment kicked in — because Murderbot, but also because the story delivers on a combination of lost colonies, corporate bad actors, frightening but also conflicted cyborgs, and equally terrifying alien tech. It also examines the effects that the accumulation of such events are having on Murderbot: that is, that it isn’t just a “heartless killing machine.”

And that’s all I’m going to tell you, but if you’re a Murderbot fan like me you should enjoy this book, even if there may be an initial adjustment required. If you’re new to Murderbot I definitely recommend starting at the beginning with All Systems Red, but if you like works such as CJ Cherryh’s Cyteen, Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice, or The Expanse series by James A Corey, I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy the ride.

I read the hardback edition of System Collapse (243 pp.) As noted above, I received it as a gift.

 

And it’s time — for another post in the About The Characters series, which focuses on the minor characters in The Wall Of Night series, in large part because:

“I think it’s the presence of the smaller characters that “makes” a story, creating texture around the main points of view.”

~ from my Legend Award Finalist’s Interview, 2013

Initially, the series focused exclusively on characters from The Heir of Night, but now I’m continuing on with minor characters from both The Gathering Of The Lost and Daughter of Blood — in alphabetical order, by name, of course!

Speaking of alphabetical, the series has finally exited “N” for “O”, where the first character is so minor he is only referred to, never seen — but a mention, is a mention!

Old Alth: the senior wyr pack handler in the Red Keep, principal stronghold of the House of Blood

Although neither so large, nor as terrifying as Kalan’s memories of the Hunt of Mayanne, the wyr hounds at the entrance to the Envoys’ Quarter were tall, with sleek narrow heads. His muscles tightened as the pale, phosphorescent eyes turned his way. The sentries’ eyes followed those of their hounds and one of them cleared his throat. “Seems they recognize a Storm Spear; Old Alth said they would.”

“Alth’s our senior wyr handler,” Jad explained, as the other sentry shifted stance.

~ from © Daughter Of Blood: The Wall of Night Book Three, Chapter 27, The Turnings of Fate

Today marks the third and final post in The House At the End of the Sea Q&A series with Victoria M Adams — and I really love her thoughtful and indepth answers to the questions, as well as the glimpses into the story. It has been a real privilege, as well as a great pleasure, hosting both her and the Q&A.

On which note…

Victoria M Adams & The House At the End of the Sea: Q&A #3

from © The House at the End of the Sea — produced here with permission.
,

About The Author

Victoria M. Adams spent her childhood bouncing between Cyprus, Canada and the US with her Iranian mother, trying to achieve first place in the ‘Most Visas Acquired Before Age Eighteen’ sweepstakes. As an adult, she carried on the nomadic family tradition by adding France and New Zealand to the mix, where she worked as an animator, copywriter, tutor and story coach, in no particular order. She currently shares her London home with two humans and a feckless cat.
.

Previous Posts:

• The House At the End of the Sea: Q&A #1
• The House At the End of the Sea: Q&A #2

I hope you enjoyed Monday’s post just as much as I did. 😀 Now, onward to Q&A #2 and shining a spotlight on Victoria M Adams and her newly released novel, The House at the End of the Sea.
.

.
Victoria M Adams & The House At the End of the Sea: Q&A #2

Helen: What is magic, to you? Why do you use it in your story? What does magic add that a so-called ‘realistic’ tale might not convey?

Victoria M Adams: I’m so fascinated by this question. On the surface of it, in fantasy stories especially, magic is power. It’s the fantasy of being able to do extraordinary things – fly, shoot lightning bolts out of your fingertips, whatever – to wish a thing into being. Dig down a bit, though, and magic is so much more. It has to do with what it means to be a human being, why the world is the way it is. That’s the question magic asks. It asks if there are hidden aspects to the world. If there are things that don’t appear on the surface but which are just as real as going down to the shop and buying a loaf of bread.

That, of course, is a gold mine for stories, especially stories that involve liminal spaces, thresholds between worlds, secret histories and so on. Fairy stories. Tales about hidden worlds, portals, beings who cross between our world and another. These stories are saying: reality is so much bigger than the story told to you by your five senses. There’s more going on. Don’t just look on the surface. Don’t just listen to received wisdom.

Fantasy for me is about metaphor – not necessarily straight allegory, but creative metaphor. In The House At The End Of The Sea, I could have told a story about a girl, Saffi True, who has lost her mother, who has family problems, who discovers that her ancestor built his fortune by making others suffer. But I wanted to turn the screw a bit tighter. I wanted the problems to come knocking on Saffi’s door in a very concrete way, like the Green Knight visiting King Arthur’s court. Unavoidable.

Magic turns the screw. It asks: ‘How does grief distort reality, every day? How do past injustices shape our world, here and now?’
.

.
An Excerpt from The House at the End of the Sea

“Sometime in the middle of the night, Saffi woke with a start. The room was full of shifting shadows. It had been cloudy earlier but now a light shone through the window. The moon was up. The shadows were tree branches, shaken in the wind. There was a noise, too, but it wasn’t the branches.

It was the sound of laughter on the stairs.

People were coming up from the front hall. She could hear voices, the light tread of many feet. The memory of guests filtered through her mind. So Dad was wrong and Grandad was right. They had come, whoever they were.

The laughter sent a shiver through Saffi. She got up and tiptoed out on the landing in her pyjamas. The lights were on so she had no trouble finding her way. She crept towards the edge of the stairwell, peering down.

‘My Lady,’ said someone from below.

Without thinking about it, Saffi moved down a green carpeted step, drawn by the sound of those voices. There was a musical quality to them, sweet and enchanting. She had never heard anyone speak like that – as if the speaker lived life only for the sake of pleasure and laughter, and all other experiences were unknown. These people sounded as if they had never been angry, or lost someone dear to them, or wept. Saffi longed to be like that. She moved down another step. Then one more, in growing confusion.

It seemed to her that there were too many steps. She could never reach the end of them. Her legs felt heavy, as if she was pushing through water. The stairwell stretched on and on like a dim green tunnel. She felt queasy and clutched at the banister.

Then – as if an elastic had snapped back – she was at the bottom, facing the guest suite. She stopped in amazement. How had that happened? A few seconds ago, she couldn’t walk down the flight. Yet here she was on the landing. The green door was open. Beyond it, she glimpsed figures, flashes of iridescent colour. Satin maybe, or feathers.

All at once, Grandma was there too, blocking her view. ‘What are you doing, Saffi?’ she hissed. ‘Go back to bed!’

Saffi hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. By now, her curiosity was roused to fever pitch. Who were those guests? She lay in bed, listening intently, until she heard the sound of her grandparents creaking upstairs. They were talking in anxious murmurs, a strange contrast to the visitors’ easy chatter.

‘Answer by the seventh day,’ she heard Grandad say before their bedroom door closed, and silence descended.

Who had to answer what? Saffi wondered. Across the room, Milo stirred in his sleep. She tossed and turned, questions gnawing at her. Why were her grandparents so worried? The guests had everyone in a flummox. She even speculated whether they were foreign royalty. Why else would one be called ‘my Lady’?

She must have fallen asleep after that. When she opened her eyes, it was morning.  Sunlight filtered through the curtains onto her bed.”

from © The House at the End of the Sea — produced here with permission.
.

About The Author

Victoria M. Adams spent her childhood bouncing between Cyprus, Canada and the US with her Iranian mother, trying to achieve first place in the ‘Most Visas Acquired Before Age Eighteen’ sweepstakes. As an adult, she carried on the nomadic family tradition by adding France and New Zealand to the mix, where she worked as an animator, copywriter, tutor and story coach, in no particular order. She currently shares her London home with two humans and a feckless cat.
.

Previous Posts:

“The House At the End of the Sea”: Q&A #1

Today I’m featuring Post #1 of a feature series with Victoria M Adams—also known as my good friend and fellow author, Mary—which takes and indepth look at her newly released novel, The House at the End of the Sea.

The House at the End of the Sea is officially Middle Grade fiction, i.e. roughly aimed at the 9-13 age group, but I believe it’s one of those books that older readers may also enjoy.

If you have questions for Mary, please post a comment. I know she’ll be more than delighted to answer.

~*~

Victoria M Adams & “The House At the End of the Sea”: Q&A #1

Helen: Saffi, your main character, and her family are dealing with bereavement, as well as intergenerational tensions. What is the role of fantasy in helping children confront and discuss very real traumas, historical or otherwise?

Victoria M Adams: During a recent Insta event, I had the privilege of chatting to Nashae Jones and Jenna Lee-Yun about middle grade storytelling and this question came up. Jenna had an interesting take on the issue. She said that fantasy gives children a safe space to understand difficult and traumatic experiences. Not only private grief and family problems but also systemic injustice, historical traumas and other issues. I think she’s absolutely right. Fantasy is a space where we collectively chew over tough questions, where children can grapple with certain feelings or realities and work through them. We look at the past and ask: ‘How was it for people back then?’ We look at now and ask, ‘why are things so difficult, how can I help myself and others?’ We look at the future and say, ‘what if we make this choice, or that choice as a society? What happens?’

Personally, I was and still am interested in the experience of not-belonging, of dual heritages and complex family histories. In my case it was British and Iranian, but there are any number of ways of experiencing this, including the not-belonging that comes of moving around a great deal, or poverty, or neuro-diversity, or other forms of difference. Many of us have multiple loyalties, which are occasionally at loggerheads – they fight a little on the psychological level. It’s interesting to see these experiences represented in stories.

As I wrote Saffi’s story, I found myself asking: what if it wasn’t a problem, or more accurately wasn’t JUST a problem to have several identities? What if the process of being ever so slightly at odds with oneself was actually useful? If it gave an unusual capacity – that of seeing both sides of an issue, or looking beyond the obvious, or avoiding simplistic answers? In that sense, a degree of discomfort is welcome. It opens our eyes to a whole new world.

An Excerpt from The House at the End of the Sea

” ‘There’s a boy spying on us from the beach,’ said Milo.

Saffi didn’t turn around. She fixed her gaze on her brother seated opposite her at the picnic table, and waited. Behind him, southwards along the town’s promenade, waves rushed almost to the sea wall. Milo seemed too small to her in his green shirt with a T-rex on the front, poking at the dregs of his milkshake with a straw. A picture of innocence.

Except, he was lying. She knew that.

‘He’s got something.’ He had a worried look. ‘I think it’s a gun.’

She held his eye. ‘Stop it, Milo.’

‘Turn around. You’ll miss it.’

‘Just once, I’d like to sit quietly and wait for Dad.’

‘It’s true, I swear.’

It wasn’t. Milo’s tales had started right after the funeral and showed no signs of stopping. The grief counsellor said: Your brother lies because he doesn’t want to accept a reality without his mum. Saffi wished it was that easy to change reality.

‘Please.’ He was squirming with frustration. ‘Look!’

He sounded so desperate that she finally glanced over her shoulder. All she saw on the beach was a slim figure in a brown jacket. There was no way of knowing if he had been ‘spying’. Otherwise, the shore was deserted apart from birds. There were a great many of those, wheeling and turning over the bay.

‘Too late,’ said Milo.

Sun, kids crying over dropped ice cream, the burnt-sugar smell of candyfloss. That was how a seaside town should be, Saffi thought. But not this one. This one couldn’t even manage a summer. It was August but the breeze felt more like October. The promenade had one post office that sold crisps and cards, one tea shop named Betty’s where the owner hung sad, useless sun-catchers in the window. The lines of groynes on the sand resembled grinning teeth. And they were going to live here. They had to leave London and everything they knew behind, move in with Grandma and Grandad in this nowhere place at the edge of the sea, all because Mum was gone and Dad couldn’t manage Milo alone. Anger sat in a lump in Saffi’s throat.

Just then, a gull landed on a nearby table with a scrabbling thud. Milo watched it jab at the wood with its yellow beak.

‘Seagulls evolved from velociraptors,’ he said. ‘Know that?’

The gun was forgotten. He had on his serious I read this in a book face. Saffi fought the urge to scream.

‘Careful,’ said a voice from behind. ‘They can be mardy, those ones.’

Saffi looked round to find a boy her own age, about twelve or thirteen, watching them from the terrace. Freckled and blond-haired, he could have sprung up out of the grey stones for all she knew. She hadn’t seen him arrive. His hands were thrust in the pockets of a leather jacket; the t-shirt underneath might once have had a Leicester City logo. His trainers were tied with nylon string, pale green. He lifted his chin to indicate the gull.

‘Snatch chips right off your plate,’ he said.

Saffi shrugged. ‘He hasn’t bothered us.’

But she wondered if the newcomer would. He was edging towards them, hands still in his pockets, an eye on the gull. The bird stared at him sideways as if it didn’t think much of him, either. Then it heaved itself in the air and flapped off. The boy relaxed a little.

‘Weren’t you the one spying on us from the beach?’ asked Milo.

It might have been. But Saffi didn’t see how the boy could have reached the terrace, if so. There were no stairs. He didn’t deny it but withdrew one hand, holding it out to her.

‘I’m Birdy,’ he said. ‘Birdy Lythe. You here on holiday?’

Saffi wasn’t used to talking to strangers in the street. She hesitated before getting up to shake his hand.

‘I’m Saffi. This is Milo. We just moved here.’

‘Oh, aye?’ That surprised him. ‘Where from, London?’

Saffi nodded. ‘And you?’

‘Breakwell, born and bred.’ He pointed across the bay to a line of white bluffs. ‘My dad runs a park up by Flamborough.’

That was where Grandad and Grandma lived, in a B&B at Flamborough Head. Saffi realised that Birdy’s ‘park’ must be nearby. She wasn’t sure if she should say so.

‘Sounds nice.’

‘Well.’ He scuffed the pavement with his foot. ‘I guess. I mean, there’s lots to see round these parts. Stacks, arches, smugglers’ caves . . . ’

‘Caves?’

Milo’s question was breathless. He had scrambled up from the bench to peer at the boy, hooked by the tourist pitch. Even Saffi felt a reluctant tug of interest.

‘Heaps.’ Birdy warmed to his theme. ‘Big ones at North Landing. But you can find ’em all over. And shipwrecks.’

‘Shipwrecks?’ Milo’s eyes grew round.

‘I’ll show you if you like. I know places.’

Saffi was suddenly afraid this boy with green laces would offer his tourist-guiding services, then ask for money. Or just ask for money.

‘It’s kind of you,’ she said in her most formal London voice. ‘We’ll be fine.’

An instant later, she felt mean for saying it. Birdy only smiled, as if he didn’t care one way or the other.

‘Saf.’ Milo turned to her. ‘D’you think Dad’ll take us to see a shipwreck?’

‘You know Dad. If it was an Iron Age dig, maybe . . . ’

But Milo wasn’t listening. ‘My grandma and grandad have a B&B in Flamborough,’ he told Birdy, eager.

Saffi realised, too late, that he had spilled her secret. Birdy didn’t miss it. A frown settled on his face.

‘What d’you say your last name was?’ He was staring hard at her.

‘I didn’t.’ Here we go, she thought. ‘It’s True.’

Birdy must have recognised the name, for he seemed bewildered. ‘True? But you don’t look–’ he began, before biting his tongue.

Saffi felt a familiar weariness. People always saw Mum’s Iranian side in her, never Dad’s English one. It annoyed her because she couldn’t even speak the language. She had no idea what Mum’s aunts and uncles and fleets of cousins were saying when they pinched her cheeks and cooed in Farsi. She opened her mouth to make a sharp rejoinder. But Birdy spoke first.

‘Trues. Figures.’

Saffi could tell he didn’t mean it as a compliment. ‘Why?’

Before he could answer, she felt the air move. With a great flap and flurry of wings, a seagull – she didn’t know if it was the same one – swooped down on them from above, so close that its webbed feet almost grazed Birdy’s face. Instinctively, he raised his arms. There was a breathless moment as the gull hovered over him, an angry grey-white blur, yellow beak agape. Then, as quickly as it came, it went. Birdy didn’t look surprised. He flicked a downy feather off his jacket.

‘Told you. Mardy,’ he said.”

from © The House at the End of the Sea — produced here with permission.

~*~

About The Author

Victoria M. Adams spent her childhood bouncing between Cyprus, Canada and the US with her Iranian mother, trying to achieve first place in the ‘Most Visas Acquired Before Age Eighteen’ sweepstakes. As an adult, she carried on the nomadic family tradition by adding France and New Zealand to the mix, where she worked as an animator, copywriter, tutor and story coach, in no particular order. She currently shares her London home with two humans and a feckless cat.

Just on a month back, I shared the news that The House At The End Of the Sea, by my good friend and fellow author Victoria M Adams (whom I know best as Mary, for that middle initial) was published — which is always a very exciting time, both for authors and readers on the lookout for “the new.”

As noted, the author is a good friend, plus I enjoyed the book when I got to read an advance edition, so I’m naturally keen to support the release process. Despite having just completed a whirlwind launch tour, Mary agreed to answer a “fast three” questions from me, with a view to framing, and featuring, an excerpt from the book.

But — big BUT 😀 — when Mary’s answers came back, I thought they were so amazing that each one deserved the spotlight in its own right. So, with her agreement. I am going to feature each one in sequence, as a mini-post series, starting Monday — including, by way of bonus goodness, a separate excerpt to go with each Question & Answer.

I am going to be very bold here, and not only say that it’s something to look forward to, but also that I don’t believe you’ll be disappointed. Quite the opposite in fact, so do check back Monday.

I’m really looking forward to sharing Mary’s insights and some of The House At The End Of the Sea magic with you. 😀

Happy King’s Birthday to everyone oot thar celebrating the holiday. 🙂

Saturday being June 1, I posted #5 in the Year of the Villain series on Supernatural Underground.

This month I’m focusing on Fantasy where the protagonist is pretty much a straight-out villain, using Joe Abercrombie’s Shattered Sea series and RF Kuang’s The Poppy War trilogy as examples.

Read all about it here:

The Year of the Villain #5: Where the Hero Is Really a Villain

 

While you’re there, you could also check out Kim Falconer’s latest “Choose Your Weapon” post:

Choose Your Weapon — Firearms

Plus two great “From the Backlist” posts, both from Margaret Ronald:

• Tall, Dark, and Handsome isn’t Going To Cut It

• In What World (about adding magic to your tale 🙂 )

Enjoy!

Last Thursday, I reposted the very last of the Daughter of Blood Q&As from several years back. A key reason for reposting is that I’ve always felt the questions were not only fun but also insightful, and so merited a refeature, rather than being consigned to blog history. 😀

We have it on good authority, after all, that “the old that is strong does not wither” and I think the reposts have not only proven the truth of Frodo’s rhyme for Aragorn (chiefly known as Strider, at that point in The Lord of the Rings), but that the Qs — and I hope my As — are still evergreen.

Here for the record, is the complete list, from post 1 through to last week’s finale, number 18.

2022:
March 31 — #1 Phoebe’s Question on Book Planning

April 21 — #2 Sam’s Question on Deleted Scenes

April 28 — #3 Sandy’s Question on Characters That Take Charge

May 19 — #4 Lindsay’s Question on Research

June 23 — #5 Chris’s Question on Tirael & “What Would Have Happened If…”

June 30 — #6 Rosie’s Question on the Web of Mayanne

September 8 — #7 Jason’s Question on Weapons & Names

October 6 — #8 Robin’s Question on Tuckerization Characters

November 24 — #9 Josh’s Question on Whether I Have A Favourite Moment in Daughter of Blood

December 15 — #10 Shannon’s Question re Sections or Characters that were Hard to Write

2023
March 30 — #11 Jenny’s Question re Inspiration and Keeping Going

May 18 — #12 Tom’s Question re Food and Feasts

June 15 — #13 Ashley’s Question on Writing Through the Christchurch Earthquakes

August 10 — #14 Bethany’s Question On A Villain

September 28 — #15 Andrew’s Question on Black Blades

2024

January 18 — #16 Forrest’s Question on Research

March 21 — #17 Jane’s Question on “Hard” and “Soft” Power

May 23 — #18 Adrian’s Question on Festivals