My poem, “The Green Lady,” will appear in Aberrant Dreams in 2008. I am thrilled to be accepted by AD again; in addition to finding my work worth publishing, they are a joy to work with, responsive to a writer’s every question or concern.

I also neglected to mention in this space that my review of Stephen Jones’ H.P. Lovecraft in Britain: A Monograph, was published in June by the SF Site.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

My review of Tanith Lee’s young adult novel Indigara is now available on the SF Site. I felt a little bad turning in such a negative review of an author I have enjoyed in the past, but it’s my duty as a reviewer to share my feelings on the book I read even if I think it sucks.

Unfortunately, this is a book with serious faults that keep it from feeling like it ever gets off the ground. Most of the time when I read a book, there’s a point somewhere in the middle where I glance to the end to see how many pages are left. If it’s a good book then I am gauging how much pleasure I have left before I finish. If it’s a bad book I’m thinking the opposite — how many pages are left before I can move on to something better? Indigara was definitely a case of the latter, and that moment came a mere 80 pages into the book’s 200.

Check out my review then go looking for one of Lee’s other books; she’s a talented author, she just missed the mark this time.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

My review of Richard Dansky’s first original novel, Firefly Rain, is now available on the SF Site. I really enjoyed this book, and think it is worth at least checking out of your library. I’ve already enjoyed his RPG writing, and his work with Storytellers Unplugged so this novel was a treat. I hope Dansky keeps writing original work, and I have high hopes he becomes an author of note in the Horror genre.

Read the review here.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I finished another review tonight, of Richard Dansky’s Firefly Rain. It still took me a while to write, but it came significantly easier than the last one. If I can stay in the habit of writing these regularly I’m sure they will come easier and easier with time.

We had Jennifer over tonight for a writing date, with some good discussion of writing, brainstorming, and a nice check-in about where we are writing-wise. Having Steve move in to the Slutbarn has created a lot of upheaval in the last few weeks; it’s been good change but change nonetheless, with a lot of energy expended on house and family. I’m pleased that my output did not drop off entirely, that I kept working even when very busy elsewhere; now I feel like I’m ready to get moving again. If I’m lucky I’ll do some more writing tonight, or at least a bit of catching up on Society of Voluptuaries critiques.

My review of Tanith Lee’s Indigara is slated for publication in an upcoming update to the the SF Site and I’ve requested several more books from their review copies. This is starting to become a bit of a habit, and I’m pleased with that.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

I’ve decided to start writing book reviews again. I’ve been working for the last couple days on a review of Tanith Lee’s Indigara with minimal success; my review skills felt very rusty. When I complained to Reesa, she responded without a moment’s hesitation, “have you reread your old reviews?”

I had not. I did, and within a couple hours had finished the first draft of my review. My usual procedure when I finish a review is to revise it a little, then wait a day before revising it again. I find I catch a lot after ’sleeping on it.’ When I’m finished tomorrow, I’ll mail it in to Rodger at the SF Site. I really like writing for them for many reasons, and I’m looking forward to renewing our editorial relationship.

I’ll post again here when the review goes live.

Originally published at approximately 8,000 words. You can comment here or there.

gryphynshadow and I saw 300 yesterday. I was thrilled and moved as I watched it, but knew I'd have to spend some time thinking about the imagery and meaning of the movie. It's distinctively filmed, with strikingly beautiful cinematic violence and an amazingly strong female lead character in the form of Queen Gorgo (I even thought that in the sex sequence with King Leonidas that her arm positioning while riding on him was suggestive of her masturbating, something I've never seen even hinted at in a Hollywood film). But the movie's underlying subtext is not a simple one. Even now my thoughts are not settled on this, and I welcome differing opinions and may have my mind changed.


Poking around on the 'net I have found there is quite the controversy about it -- with modern-day descendants of Persians unhappy about their depiction in the movie, and right-wing fucktards like this one (dubious thanks to stephanometra for this link) crowing about how finally a movie shows 'Good american values' (whipping our children to make them into warriors and wishing to die in battle rather than live a happy, long life apparently being American values) and depicts the 'enemy as they really are'.

In the movie, the Spartans are depicted as strong, honorable, buff masculine warrior dudes, nobly sacrificing themselves to save their homeland from a invading army. The Persians are shown as everything they loathe -- morally and sexually debauched, deformed, monstrous, unfeeling, committers of war atrocities. Violence is depicted as glorious, inevitable, and death in battle is to be anticipated with glee. Nothing our good guys can do is wrong, as long as they stand up for what is right and noble in some way. Are the depictions of Persians historically accurate? Undoubtedly not, in many ways.

But the movie is told from the perspective of Stelios, sole survivor of the battle at the "hot gates" who returns to tell the tale to those who were not there*. He's a Greek, rallying Greek troops to fight an enemy. Of COURSE the enemy is depicted as monstrous, ugly, debauched, effeminate, and everything the Greeks (and specifically the Spartans) loathed. To show the Persians as anything else would be to do disservice to the character telling the tale -- throughout history, when one side fights the other they are villified, depicted as the worst humanity has to offer (if human at all).

The real irony comes though when right-wingers try to take this film as a righteous tale of what we are doing in Iraq, or more generally as a metahor for noble America today. The "insurgents" in Iraq, and I think many of the Iraqi people in general, see themselves as a small group of noble, moral people who are fighting off a much larger force invading their land, an invading people they see as morally corrupt. If one were to apply the tale of 300 to the modern situation, I don't think the Americans come off looking like the Spartans.


*Look if you thought that saying there was only one survivor is a spoiler, you don't know your history

Lies My Teacher Told Me by James W. Loewen

A really fascinating book. Loewen's goal is to show how the textbooks most commonly used in our high school classrooms do a huge disservice to our students, both by making history dull and through a host of misleading and incorrect information. While this is an important point to make, it would not normally make for stirring reading in a 300+ page book to those outside the field of education. However, in order to make his point Loewen dives into multiple overlooked, under-examined, and misread eras of history and makes the country's past a good deal more fascinating than it was for those of us who dozed through interminable social studies classes. From Squanto to Helen Keller's socialist politics to unknown imperialist wars that greatly resemble our current conflicts, the book covers a variety of engaging topics. Some of the book is painful reading, such as when Loewen argues, quite successfully, that contrary to popular image some aspects of race-relations in this country have gotten worse since Reconstruction. The book is heavily footnoted and provides jumping off points for a host of further reading, not to mention the potential genesis of hundreds of interesting alternate histories.

The Mummy Congress by Heather Pringle

Using an academic conference on mummies, held every 3 years in a remote mummy-friendly location, as the focal point of the book, Pringle's book covers every aspect of human preservation from the earliest mummies created by the people of the Andes to the more famous Egyptian mummies to even more little known aspects including mummy-based medicine and art supplies and the Buddhist mummies of Japan who began their mummification process while still alive. This book was extremely engaging, bringing out a lot of new detail about both mummies and why they fascinate us so much, and what has led diverse cultures to create them (it was not always the ruling class or the wealthy who were the focus of mummification, for instance). It reminded me a lot of Stiff by Mary Roach, but with less of the forced humor which has turned some people off of that book (although I enjoyed both a great deal). There are some great photos in the book too.

The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume I edited by Robert Silverberg

I have read this book a few times before and enjoyed it each time -- in fact according to a library stamp in the back I stole it from a New Hampshire high school SF class (the teacher tried hard and enlisted lots of help from me, but the class was terrible) in the mid to early 90s. This is a collection of what are supposedly the 'greatest' SF stories ever from 1929 to 1964, as voted on by the members of SFWA. There are some classic stories in here to be sure -- such as "Nightfall" by Asimov, a wonderful Sturgeon piece ("Microcosmic God"), Bixby's "It's A Good Life," (memorably made into a Twilight Zone episode) and Bradbury's "Mars is Heaven!" (previously quoted in this journal). The stories themselves are worth reading for their own sake, but I am intrigued by what they reveal about their writers, the themes that appealed to them and the readers of that period, and the ethics, imagination, and limitations of that time. John W. Campbell's racism (he argues, in "Twilight," that black people make the best music because they are "semi-civilized"), Stanley Weinbaum's vision of a multi-national, cooperative journey to the solar system, and the intense cold-war fears of Murray Leinster's "First Contact" reveal as much about when they were written as they do about the future worlds they depict.

The Prestige by Christopher Priest

This is an incredibly engrossing book about two stage magicians and their rivalry which extends beyond their lives to destroy the lives of their descendants. The book alternates between first-person accounts of their great grandchildren and the memoirs of the magicians themselves, and does an amazing job of teasing you with secrets which are revealed with a pleasing payoff at the end. Much is suggested rather than shown, and overall this book is very skillfully written and quite hard to stop reading once you've started.

Both "The Great Danton" and the faux-Frenchman "The Professor of Magic" are world-renowned illusionists at the turn of the century. They are also bitter enemies, thanks to an incident during the youthful beginnings of their careers, and are bent on sabotaging each other's success. When the Professor develops an ingenious illusion known as the New Transported Man, in which he appears to instantaneously teleport from one part of a room to another, the Great Danton is determined to upstage him and is willing to go to any length, at any personal cost, to do so. The book also features an entertaining appearance by Nikola Tesla, which is always a plus.

...keeping track of what I read on a highly irregular and incomplete basis...

The Steampunk Trilogy by Paul Di Filippo

Three novellas about highly fantastical alternate versions of history, populated by a host of real historical figures. In part one ("Victoria"), a bioengineered Newt is called on to take the role of Queen Victoria after her mysterious disappearance. In the second ("Hottentots"), various historical and mythic figures compete to capture the preserved genitalia of Saartjie Baartman, including Baartman's daughter, well-known racist and naturalist Louis Agassiz, Eliphas Levi, and others. In the final novella, "Walt and Emily," two great poets are brought together for a journey to the realm of the dead, or at least the newly dead.

It was a really good book, although NOT necessarily the kind of historical whimsy that stands on its own without the reader having knowlegde of his own. I say this because I am not sure -- for once I knew most of the figures appearing in it, at least in passing, thanks to my readings within the disreputable pages of Fortean Times (long may it live), and Wikipedia sufficed to fill me in where I did not. I think a reader could enjoy it without knowing the minutiae of everyone involved's lives (I had only a passing familiarity with some), but some knowledge of Queen Victoria, the Hottentot Venus, the Cthulhu mythos, and Whitman and Dickinson would definitely help a reader enjoy themselves.

I am not sure this book really stands as a trilogy. All the stories play entertaining games with history, but not all three qualify as what I would call steampunk -- only the first book, and perhaps the third to a much lesser extent, involve the wacky and imaginative retro-technology (advanced yet ever so Victorian) with which I have come to associate the genre. Only the first has the atmosphere I would associate with it too. Still each is entertaining in its own way. It just makes me ask -- is a trilogy a trilogy if it has no recurring characters, few to no common elements, and great differences in theme?

Kim Stanley Robinson's Three Californias Trilogy is a trilogy to me. Though the themes are very different, and the stories totally so, they very much come across as three alternate futures for orange county. I could see the link. Here, not so much.

What makes a trilogy a trilogy?

p.s. fans of whitman and dickinson will dig it just for the third part though

Rainbow Man by M.J. Engh

A book both interesting and frustrating at once.

If a book has really good ideas, I am definitely willing to give it some slack if the writing is only passable. Take it too much further -- a book with really good ideas and poor execution, and I find it a lot more frustrating -- I want to keep reading to see what the author does, but I am irritated at having to put up with the bad writing. Rainbow Man raises some fascinating questions about gender, religion, morality, laws and law enforcement, but unfortunately the writing style leaves a lot to be desired. The beginning was the worst, in which we get a whole host of irritating exposition about what life was like for the main character, Liss, on a near-light speed interstellar craft, and how ground life compares. It feels like we are being told too much and shown too little, and many of the details seem extraneous and are unexplained. At one point, Liss remarks at never having seen ice cubes on her space ship, despite the many comforts it apparently contained, and we are left to wonder what would be difficult about getting water to freeze in space. Later, when the streets of Bimran ice up, Liss talks about seeing ice on her space ship in its holds.

Liss is a deep space traveller who tires of onboard life and gets off at the next planet, only to find it has repressive morals compared to the easy-going ways of her ship. Indeed, she is regarded as untouchable (and male) because she is sterile, and is not allowed to marry or mate, but predictably falls into forbidden love with a number of Bimranites. Of more interest is the system of morality on Bimran, where there are no laws but "selectors" maintain the religious code on the population as a whole by enforcing it in a random few people. They do this by selecting them for "punishment" or "bliss," essentially creating heaven or hell for the rest of their lives (since God can't be relied on to do it).

Some great ideas, and in the hands of a writer like Le Guin a lot could have been done with it (inded the back of the book reminds me I should read Rainbow Man if I like Le Guin). I am glad I struggled to the end, but I wish the writing had lived up to the potential of the ideas. On the upside, the style is light making it a reasonably quick read.

The SF Site has published their mid-October issue, including my review of Earthbound by horror "grandmaster" Richard Matheson. Ahhh, the joy of picking apart a terrible novel. I am normally a big fan of Matheson. I think I Am Legend is a flawed masterpiece and The Shrinking Man is just plain a masterpiece, and many of his other short works are resonant and somewhat timeless. Not so this bilge, originally published under the name 'Logan Swanson.' This is probably the most broadly negative review I have ever written. Earthbound is full of nasty stereotypes about women and, to a lesser degree, about men and exemplifies the cliche that horror is anti-sexuality as a genre.

If you are in a hurry and don't want to read the review that follows, I can sum it up in two sentences: There is a reason this book was originally published under a pseudonym and several years passed before it was published under the author's real name. That reason is that it is bad, and a poor addition to Richard Matheson's impressive legacy to boot. If you enjoyed Matheson's other works, such as I Am Legend or The Shrinking Man and haven't gotten around to this novel yet (perhaps because of the dour comments on it in The Encyclopedia of Fantasy) then you haven't been missing anything.

Read the rest of the review.

There's a bunch of other nifty stuff too, but go read my review if nothing else. Then go read The Shrinking Man or I Am Legend and forget Earthbound ever existed (except, of course, for the charming and unrelated SNES RPG).

You can add the SF Site to your friends list as sfsite. Also, check out my other reviews on the site.

The SF Site has published their October issue; this includes my review of All the Rage This Year, an anthology edited by Keith Olexa:

One of the drawbacks of the average science fiction anthology is the mixture of good and bad stories. One story will entertain while the next will have you groaning at the approach of a predictable conclusion, or just struggling to contain your boredom as you skim ahead to the next story. As a reviewer, these stories are a bit more fun because you know you'll get to skewer them (and editors responsible) publicly; the average reader, lacking a similarly public venue to rant in, generally gets less enjoyment out of these books. Sadly for me, the stories in All the Rage This Year are uniformly readable and so there will be no skewering of authors or editors below.

Read the rest of my review.

My readers might also enjoy the review of the Complete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy audio collection, the SF Site review of Serenity, or even a review of a bunch of Laurel K. Hamilton vampire pr0n.

You can add the SF Site to your friends list as sfsite. I have several more reviews in the pipeline for future issues. Also, check out my other reviews on the site.

The SF Site has published their mid-September issue, including my review of Watching Anime, Reading Manga by Fred Patten:

Few English-speaking authors on anime or manga could have the credentials of Fred Patten, purely by virtue of having been one of fandom's earliest members in the United States, not to mention a founding member of the Cartoon/Fantasy Organization, America's first anime fan club -- a group privileged enough to play host to the great Osamu Tezuka, creator of Astro Boy and Metropolis, not once but twice in the late 70s.

Read the rest of my review.

My readers might also be interested in this review of the new de Lint collection, Quicksilver & Shadow, or Jane Yolen and Patrick Nielsen Hayden (of the excellent makinglight)'s The Year's Best Science Fiction and Fantasy for Teens or even a review of Laurel K. Hamilton's latest Vampire pr0n.

You can add SFSite to your friends list as sfsite. I have several more reviews in the pipeline for future issues. Also, check out my other reviews on the site.

I basically had a good ride. Spun around town enjoying myself. There's a certain exchange when you pass another bicyclists; it's a shared smile, a nod, a feeling of "yeah, you know how good this feels too, don't you?"

My bonus check arrived in the mail today. It was less than I'd expected, but still good. I hope I can still get something from unemployment; I really don't know how it will affect my check from them.

After I deposited my paycheck I decided to splurge and get some comic books. I got the next volume of the Sandman, some Transmetropolitan comics, Sandman Presents, "Everything you ever wanted to know about dreams (but were afraid to ask)," and Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, the Director's Cut.

I'm a little disappointed with that last one. Its been years since I read JTHM, and I love it but I'm kind of annoyed because far from being a director's cut its less inclusive than the real comics -- they've dropped all the Meanwhile... segments ("Someone put shit in my pants!") and Wobbly Headed Bob, leaving only Happy Noodle Boy (subject of my new user icons) and the main Nny stuff. Its still funny as hell, but I feel a little cheated (I normally assume "director's cut" means more content, not less).

I hit Kerbey Lane, went to Le Fun and played some games (Mighty Pang rules!), and then sat at Mojo's and read for a little while. A good afternoon. I got some stomach cramps on the way back; I think it was IBS, not the riding that did it. I kind of collapsed into bed when I got home. Apparently, I was sweating enough that I left little white salt crystals on the sheets when it dried.

I took a shower and feel better. Things seem a little more hopeful, though I'm not sure why and I'm still a little depressed. We shall see how things go.