USA

The About The Characters post series 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, of course!

At present, we’re still very much in Daughter of Blood territory, and the realm of “K.” 😉

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UK/AU/NZ

Kolthis: a guard in the House of Blood’s Red Keep, a follower of Huern of Blood

Myr kept applauding even when the winner raised his visor to salute them and she realized it was Kolthis. Of course, she told herself, her smile grown stiff: he wants the advancement and need only suffer my service again for a short time to achieve it. And because Kolthis served Huern now, that almost certainly made him one of her brother’s candidates, not just for a place in the guard, but for Honor Captain.

~ from © Daughter of Blood, The Wall of Night Book Three: Chapter 21 — The Field of Blood

In commencing this post, it was in my mind that I’d read a couple of other Kate Atkinson novels, Life After Life and Started Early, Took My Dog “really very recently”, only to realise — gulp! — that Life After Life was 2015, while Started Early, Took My Dog was a 2012 read: oh, my!

All of which proves that it was high time I read some more Kate Atkinson, since as will be clear from my earlier posts, she’s a writer I enjoy reading.

The oddity in the reading selection I’m discussing today is that Case Histories and Big Sky comprise the first and fifth (most recently published) novels in the Jackson Brodie series (which are crime/detective tales), i.e. they’re at opposing ends of the series…

That’s because I began reading the Jackson Brodie books in the middle with When Will There Be Good News, before following on with Started Early, Took My Dog (as above.) I enjoyed them, but having now read Case Histories at last, I believe I missed a lot of character context that would have made me appreciate the mid-series’ books even more. At the end of Case Histories, I certainly felt I ‘grokked’ the character of Jackson a lot more, and of course he’s the key to the series, although each book has its own diverse range of fascinating characters.

In fact, I believe “character” is the key to all Kate Atkinson’s writing, both in terms of her keen eye for the light and shadow, rough and smooth of individuals, as well as their interactions with the warp and weft of society. This is just as true of her detective novels as it is of any of her contemporary realism or recent-historical (World War 2) books.

So the ‘story’ is always about Jackson’s inner (and outer) life, the interconnecting lives of all those affected by the central crime (or not infrequently, series of interconnecting crimes), and the society they — and we — live in.

At any rate, I really enjoyed Case Histories and then galloped through Big Sky, as well, which was equally good. For those of you who are Jackson Brodie series’ fans and loved Reggie in When Will There Be Good News, she’s back in Big Sky…In terms of new characters, look out for Harry, Vince and Crystal.

Transcription, the third novel in my mini-binge of Kate Atkinson reading, is from the same recent-historical (World War 2) stable as Life After Life and its companion, A God In Ruins, only without the time-shift/overlapping lives elements. Transcription is straight-out historical fiction, centered on the WW2 counterintelligence operation to effectively “corral” UK fascists, i.e. the traitors and potential quislings thought they were gathering intelligence for the SS but were delivering it to MI5 operatives.

Transcription follows a series of fictional characters involved with the sting operation: during the early stages of the war, in 1950 as the Cold War really starts to bite, and in 1980-1, (very loosely) paralleling the 1979 exposure of Anthony Blunt as the fifth man of the Cambridge Five.

Once again, Kate Atkinson’s novel is a tour de force of characterization, juxtaposed with the historical and political events of the era. I also really liked that although there is a twist, quite a profound one in terms of the story, I really didn’t twig to it until close to the very end. That’s because, in addition to characterization, Ms Atkinson is also a master of misdirection, a mastery I thoroughly heart — particularly in a story of this kind.

So there you are, not one but three Kate Atkinson novels, and all well worth your time (imho.) 🙂

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Disclosure: I read the most recent paperback edition, 414 pp, of Case Histories, borrowed from my sister (who’s also a very keen reader.) Big Sky and Transcription were both hardback editions, 357 pp and 337 pp respectively, both borrowed from Christchurch City Libraries.

The first of the month has rolled round again, and that means not only my Supernatural Underground blogspot, but time for another post on Worldbuilding in Fantasy.

This month, I’m featuring a master worldbuilder, fellow NZ-er, Elizabeth Knox.

Elizabeth has written eleven books, but the world I’m featuring is “Southland”, the setting for all three YA novels: Dreamhunter, Dreamquake, and Mortal Fire.

To find out why I like it, click on:

Year Of Worldbuilding in Fantasy #8: “Southland” in Elizabeth Knox’s Dreamhunter series, and Mortal Fire.

This is the third in my post series to feature a NZ author, so next month I may have to cast my geographic net a little wider. 😉

#YoW YearOfWorldbuilding
#WiF WorldbuildingInFantasy

USA

Last Thursday, I discussed writing the ‘transitions’ between each section of my books (because I’ve just been writing one, hey-hey!)

In replying to Kristen B’s comment, I also noted that even when I think the transition is done, it often pays to reflect a little before diving into the next section. This isn’t just because (as duly noted last week) transitions can be “tricksy”, but because—for me anyway—the entry trajectory for a new section is never about “what” will happen. I always have a pretty clear idea about the “what.” The challenge is “how” to best deliver on it.

And sometimes, having a really clear idea, or ideas, about the start of a section compounds the entry trajectory rather than making it easier. A good example is Part VI No Man’s Land, in Daughter Of Blood, which opens the second half of the book.

I had two really clear visions for the opening: one involving Kalan (one of the series’ two main characters) climbing a hill and seeing a bridal caravan below him. The other was of a stranded wagon and a much smaller party of travelers. It may all seem obvious now when one reads it, but it took me five rewrites to pull those two visions together. O-o…

I also had to modify my original vision of the stranded wagon, which involved a flooded river, because upon reaching that point in the story, I realized that “of course” floods are a very rare occurrence in the semi-arid world of the Wall and the Gray Lands. And although flash floods do sometimes occur during Wall storms, generally the Derai avoid traveling in numbers during the main storm season. Hence, no flood!

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All of which lends credence to my observation that it pays to reflect a little before diving in. This process usually involves “doodling” notes and ideas, as well as running a few “what if” scenarios, all in the hopes of rendering the path ahead more straightforward. A not-unusual outcome of this process is that I sometimes get insights into what I’ve just written, too—and how it needs to change slightly (yep, very grrgh-aargh!) for the next section to happen effectively. Fortunately, they’re usually not big changes in terms of time and effort, although they can be for making the story work.

Sometimes, though, I do get lucky and a section pretty much writes itself. Daughter of Blood Part II: Shadow of the Wall (aka Kalan in Grayharbor), is a good example of a sequence that flowed from beginning to end. As I recall, though, it was the only one—testament to the multiplicity of possible “how’s”, no matter how firmly engraved the “what” of the story.

But as my editor Kate likes to say: “Onward!” 🙂

Sometimes you have to look both ways…. (via Wikipedia: Statue representing Janus Bifrons in the Vatican Museum)

A month ago, I talked about completing a plot milestone in the writing of WALL#4 and a little bit about that process, including moving on to the ‘next’ chapter or section.

Those of you who are The Wall Of Night series’ readers will be aware that I tell the story in sections. When it comes to that process in writing terms, I have to paraphrase a NZ All Black (the national rugby team) captain (Sean Fitzpatrick) who famously referred to “a game of two halves.”

(The quote went something like “it was a game of two halves but rugby was the winner on the night” — and if I were a sports or rugby blogger, the quote and its context would be pretty much a post in itself…)

Coming back to writing, constructing the story in sections is also very much a “game of two halves.” The first and larger half is simply getting the thrust of the story in the section right, usually ticking off one or more significant plot and/or character development points along the way—duly noting that most of the time it’s not really possible to completely separate out the two. AKA: what happens in the plot affects character development, and the way characters develop affects what they do, which in turn shapes the plot…

The second half often appears smaller, but can be deceptive in that respect. Once the main thrust of the section is accomplished, as author I must then begin thinking about the next section — but in between the two is the transition, which usually occurs toward the end of the section-in-progress, although it may sometimes carry over into the opening sequence of the subsequent section.

An example of this would be Part II, The Northern March in The Gathering Of The Lost (WALL #2.) The section comprises seventeen chapters, of which the final two are “transitional”, i.e. they wrap up the action of Part II and set up the action to come in Part IV, Midsummer (and also, to an extent, in WALL #3, Daughter of Blood — just saying.)

By way of clarification, Part III is an “interlude” (albeit an important one for the series) to the main GATHERING arc, which is why the transition is to Part IV. And the first chapter of PART IV completes the transition by having the main character (Malian) reflect again on what has happened in Part II, but only in passing because already the action is moving swiftly on.

When it comes to the “game of two halves”, though, and harking back to last month’s post, sometimes the transitions can be really tricky to write, chiefly because they must achieve two goals: reflecting and making sense (to a degree at least) of the preceding action, which is by its nature a slower-paced exercise, while simultaneously moving the story (along) into its next phase. One of the risks of the reflection phase is avoiding falling into what the great Ursula Le Guin called “expository lumps” — and one of the challenges of the transition is to achieve both its objectives without one overwhelming the other. In short, it *should* be seamless for the reader.

So guess what I’ve been working on in the past month? Yep, you guessed it—the transitional phase at the end of a major section. It has been proverbially “tricksy”, too (to quote Gollum when speaking of hobbits.) I’m quite pleased with the way its worked out, overall—although there’s still a “how to” that I have to resolve in terms of what I now know is coming up. But I already have a couple of “inklings” regarding possible mechanics and am confident, on past experience, that the “how” will fall into place as I write on.

Speaking of “writing on”, I’ll leave you now to go and do just that. 🙂

Subtitle: Great visuals and I really love the idea of the series, but…

…am I allowed to say, “meh”?

I certainly didn’t hate the eight-part first season, but I found it pretty bog-standard viewing fare. The “defend the village” episode (4: [official title] Sanctuary) was pretty much lifted straight from the Seven Samurai playbook, and there’s a nigh-identical episode, storyline fundamentals-wise, in Merlin, as I recall…

I found the characters largely “by the numbers”, too, so it’s probably not surprising my enthusiasm failed to fire. :-/

Slight Spoiler Alert: (So Read No More if you’re concerned.)

My “oh-no-oo” moment, both as a viewer and writer myself, concerns the final episode and the helmet (of secrecy.) The whole point of Mandalorians is that they don’t take their helmets off, so if it’s going to happen at all it should happen early on.

Imho, this is not so much to show that the taboo isn’t absolute (although that does rather immediately undermine the show’s whole premise), but once the ‘intergalactic man of mystery’ mojo has been built, viewers will also build their own (probably strong, if unconscious) picture of what’s behind the mask. So if the mask is removed in the final episode (the ‘slight spoiler’ is that yes, it is/was) the viewer is almost bound to feel let down.

I definitely did, anyway. I also felt that the unmasking wasn’t necessary, despite the plot rationale being OK, because the narrative could still play out but have the helmet removal occur off-camera. (Sort of like an “in-chapter break” in a book.) In that way you maintain your mystery, which is kind of the whole point of the Mandalorian (and Mandalorians generally) yanno…

And by way of resting my case, Judge Dredd never takes off his helmet: in the graphic novels anyway, which are the only true and right Judge Dredd, with none of this Hollywood movie malarkey…

Yep, there is a Season 2 — & again, those visuals are great!

In terms of whether I’d watch more, it is part of the  Stars Wars ‘verse, of which I am a died-in-the-wool fan (from way back.) So I won’t write future seasons off my watchlist altogether, but I won’t be finger-tapping for it to start and it’s unlikely to be top of the viewing list when it does arrive.

UK/AU/NZ

The About The Characters post series 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, of course!

At present, we’re very much in Daughter of Blood territory, and the realm of “K.” 😉

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USA

Kion: physician to Lord Nimor, the House of Sea envoy to the warrior Houses of Blood and Night

“Do we take the bodies down?” Murn sounded uncertain.

“And speak Hurulth’s first rite, at least,” Kion, the Sea physician, suggested.

“We leave them.” Kalan heard his own harshness as he surveyed the grisly row again. “They’re beyond caring, and our priority has to be the caravan.”

“I agree,” Nimor said, as grim as Kalan. “Undoubtedly, they’re intended as a warning, so let others who pass by heed it.”

Kalan turned Madder back onto the road, and first Taly and then the rest of the company followed, the wyr hounds flowing around them like a tide. They held the horses to a steady pace, but everyone was tense, intent on the surrounding terrain, and no one spoke.

~ from © Daughter of Blood, The Wall of Night Book Three: Chapter 40 — Shadow Moon

Last week, I discussed Tade Thompson’s Rosewater in the context of a post on Framing The Book. I also mentioned that I had enjoyed reading the book and encourage readers to do likewise, if only to better grok my remarks around “framing.”

Fair’s fair, though, I thought (during the course of the past week), I should really provide a little more context about the book and why I enjoyed it. 🙂

Rosewater, which won the Arthur C Clarke Award in 2019, is a science fiction novel by UK writer, Tade Thompson. Mr Thompson is of Yoruba Nigerian descent and the novel is set in a near-future Nigeria, spanning a period from ca. 2032 – 2066. Rosewater is the name of a township that has grown up around an alien biodome. The main character, Kaaro, is a “sensitive”, or telepath, ostensibly freelancing to provide psychic security for banks and businesses. He is also an operative for the Nigerian security services.

In the best science fiction tradition, Rosewater is not just a story of alien contact and invasion, but also of human relationship and interaction. In this case, those interactions include the dynamics of politics and crime in the Nigerian setting, as well as of family and friendship, framed within a story of alien arrival and colonization. Kaaro is probably best described as a “protagonist” since he’s definitely not a “hero”, although I would stop short of placing him in the “anti-hero” camp either. He’s more just a real human being, with a somewhat flexible moral code particularly in his early life, who gets caught up in events that are bigger than himself.

In terms of storytelling, the book shifts back and forward in time, and I found I had to pay quite close attention to the dates that formed part of chapter headings, since often the characters in past and present are the same. (In addition to Kaaro, that is, since the story is told entirely from his first person point of view.) The book contains considerable violence: someone, or something, is killing off sensitives like Kaaro, a mystery that intersects resistance to the alien presence, as well as more generic political and social conflict. The latter has an international dimension as well, since the Rosewater biodome is not the first alien contact with humanity, just the most sustained.

In this sense, Rosewater has elements of both thriller and detective novel, although it’s still the science fiction elements that bind it all together and “make” the story (imho), through exploration of the alien and other, as well as the hows-and-whys of the intersection of these particular aliens with humanity. The other element that makes the story for me is Kaaro’s personal path through these intersecting events. In terms of character study, I think he grows, but it’s chiefly through a very few close relationships, rather than acquiring philanthropy or a desire to “save the world.” Aka, this is no “hero’s journey”, epic fantasy style.

If you’ve enjoyed novels such as Paolo Bacigalupi’s  The Windup Girl or The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu, Nicola Griffiths’ Ammonite, or Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie, I suspect you may like Rosewater as well.

Getting ready to read — with tea & cake. 🙂

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Disclosure: I read the mass market paperback version of Rosewater, 390 pp, published by Orbit. I purchased my copy from a local independent bookshop.

Those shutters are back up again…

I think we’ve been pretty lucky here in NZ, when you look at what’s happening in so many parts of the world, to have enjoyed 102 days with the only new Covid cases being those of returning NZ-ers in managed isolation and quarantine.

Reality bit on Tuesday, though, with four new cases that look remarkably like community transmission, and yesterday (Wednesday) we moved from Level 1 (everyday life as usual within the country but heavily controlled borders) to Level 3 in Auckland (only 1 step away from full lockdown.) It’s Level 2 in the rest of the country, which basically means social distancing is back with no gatherings greater than 100 people.

We only have to look across the Tasman to the Australian state of Victoria to see how quickly Covid-19 can get away, so I support the government trying to jump on this hard and stamp it out quickly. Fingers crossed we can, because I like living at Level 1. I think we all do — and I really feel for Auckland businesses, and for people and their jobs, that will be hard hit by this.

So far it’s only for three days, but my expectation is that it will go longer because all the experience overseas points to there always being more people infected than the initial cases indicate. A Professor of Medicine from Auckland University has indicated that the Auckland restrictions could potentially continue from between two to seven weeks, depending on the severity of the outbreak.

I have to say, though, that although a quick look at Victoria should scupper any complacency on NZ’s part, my experience out and about yesterday suggests that complacency is alive and well in my area of Christchurch. When walking through a local community garden I encountered two groups, one of 3 people, the other of closer to 10, none of whom were social distancing.  And although masks are recommended now under Level 2, the only people I saw wearing them were in a local takeaway (takeout) shop. And the greengrocer I visited didn’t have the Covid tracer app., or seem to know what it was. When I explained, though, they did say they would get it. We’ll see… Overall, though, it’s not an encouraging start if Covid-19 is back in the Christchurch community.

For now, though, all I can do is hope, and wait and see. Oh yes, and keep writing. I can definitely do that! 🙂

Desk, chair, laptop — write!

In my recent post on Irwin Shaw’s WW2 classic, The Young Lions, I talked about how the purpose of a title, generally speaking, is to “frame” a book for readers, with the (again general) purpose of serving as a “key” to understanding.

My point with regard to The Young Lions was that I don’t believe the title does frame the book in that way, which either means there is no rule after all, or that this book is one of the exceptions that highlights (if not ‘proves’) the general thesis. 😀

Nonetheless, I found myself thinking about titles  and their purpose again when reading Tade Thompson’s Rosewater. The title does speak to the book, but not quite so much as the series title, which is Wormwood. And, I decided, having reached the end of Rosewater (Wormwood #1) quite ‘perfect’ as the key turning in the lock of story.

You want to know why? Well, get away with ya, I say. 😉  Far better if you read Rosewater for yourself and make up your own mind! Having enjoyed the read myself, I don’t believe you’ll regret doing so.

And as I shared on Twitter at the time, I took a leaf out of NZ crime writer, Vanda Symon’s book and embarked on the read in company with a refreshing cup of tea. The cake, you’re probably not surprised to learn, was entirely my own initiative, driven by the wish to trial a new chocolate and hazelnut cake recipe—which was pretty good, but also Very Rich!

Definitely not for everyday eating. All perfect, though, for what was a very drear and rainy midwinter’s afternoon. 🙂

As also confessed on Twitter, I did “style” the photo for your benefit and to highlight the book, but as soon as the pic was taken it was all about the relaxation and the reading!