As you, my hypothetical reader, probably know, I'm into history, or at least, I'm interested in several historical periods, and I'm a material-culture geek in a small way.
I also read fantasy.
One heck of a lot of fantasy is set in medievaloid or at least pre-industrial world.
WARNING: Gross oversimplification to follow!
Much of the subgenre of epic fantasy (aka Big Fat Fantasy, aka Extruded Fantasy Product) is set in what looks like Saxon-to-Tudor Northern Europe, with a sprinkling of apostrophes across the naming system. There is usually magic, because magic is what makes things go. Sometimes magic and technology are outright enemies and one rules out the other. But for certain sure, there is no industrialisation. Imports and exports may be handled by perilous caravans, less often by ships.
In the historical real world, people in pre-industrial societies did not have cheap consumer goods. Every thing that anyone owned was made by hand, usually by hundreds of hours of labour of several people.
There were no factories turning out cheap shoes and watches and tableware. If you were wealthy, you have some remarkably fine tableware of precious metals, and lovely expensive tapestries and paintings. If you were middle-class you have cheaper imitations, still hand-made (of course) and painted or gilded or whatever you can afford to look like your rich neighbour's goods.
You have a shirt? It was made by growing, cutting, retting, beating, hackling of flax or nettles or hemp into fibre, that was spun thread by thread with a spindle, later with a wheel. That's months before it could be woven into cloth. You have a woolen gown? First someone grows a sheep, then shearing, washing, carding, combing, before the spinning. After weaving, woolen cloth is fulled, combed, and sheared to make it soft and water-resistant. Oh, yeah, then it's cut and sewn into a garment.
When your shirt gets worn, it may be 'turned' (taken apart and rearranged so the worn bits are less visible), then patched, then cut down for another garment, and so on. If you're reasonably well-off and charitable, you may give that shirt to a beggar, or you may sell it to a fripperer (dealer in used clothing) One of the frustrating aspects of studying medieval everyday life is that everyday things didn't get preserved in waste-heaps or attics. They were in use until they were destroyed.
Cloth is valuable. When soldiers looted a city, they didn't just grab gold and jewels (that's for officers...) they carried away clothing and bolts of cloth. Servants and apprentices were paid in cloth, 'enough for a suit of clothes', once or twice a year. Well into the 1800s, the stealing of clothing drying on hedges was a specific criminal trade, and small children were sometimes abducted, stripped, and released--their clothing was worth more than them.
Cloth, ironware, leatherwork, even pottery was repaired and re-used. The upper and middle classes might discard something that was unfashionable or unwanted, but the lower and criminal classes were waiting to snap it up, sell it, use it themselves, take it apart. Kind of like the ocean, with food descending from one level of fish to the next, less and less each time.
Sure, even a generic fantasy world is not actually pre-industrial northern Europe. But if your fantasy world is pre-industrial anywhere, you need to bear in mind that it will not have cheap consumer goods. Not until the Industrial Revolution does home decor achieve the clutter of a Victorian interior. Look at Dutch interior paintings.
See a lot of stuff? No.
See many things that are purely decorative and have no useful purpose? No.
Do you want your fantasy setting to be different from the modern world, to have its own texture and existence? Maybe not. And maybe the majority of readers don't worry about it. I can only speak for what I like to read. But would you lose anything by imagining your world just that much more consistently and plausibly?
This rant triggered by two stories read recently. One was by an unpublished writer on a display site, the other by an established writer in a fantasy magazine.
One story began with two young knights riding into a city. The path to the city was strewn with discarded belongings: knives, goblets, bits of clothing. No beggars had come to carry these things away and sell them. No rag-and-bone man. No mudlarks. (I'm getting 19th c. here, but my point is that even into the 1800s broken cutlery and rags had resale value). For the opening of the story I thought the city had been emptied by plague and the fleeing populace had dropped their belongings as they fled, but no.
The other story began with a corrupt city watch hassling a poor householder, demanding protection money. He refused, saying they'd taken everything. The watch roughed him up and threw him against a small table, knocking down the vase that stood on it. So, what was this everything they had taken? How well off was this poor man, to have a vase? Did he buy cut flowers to put in it, or have an extensive garden?
One of these stories I continued reading (but it was a near thing) and it turned out to be good. I just couldn't believe in the setting.
Would either story have suffered if the author had thought a little harder and made the setting work?
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
still here
The twenty-fourth of May
Is the Queen's birthday.
If you don't give us a holiday
We'll all run away.
As you may have noticed, the world didn't end, and the Rapture didn't occur this weekend. Which I'm quite pleased about, as here in Canada we have a long weekend, and I'd hate for it to be interrupted by the Tribulations. (The caterpillars are a problem, but not--thankfully--a plague).
It may be that prophecies are in the air, but I was moved to rant over on Evil Editor when the umpty-umpteenth query involving a prophecy and a chosen one who was the only one who could deliver the land from the evil. The chosen one, by the way, was an adolescent girl.
Which is not to assume that the book (or any of the other books fitting those criteria) is necessarily a bad book. Just a book with a plot that made me bang my head on the nearest available flat surface.
In the invaluable Tough Guide to Fantasyland by the wonderful and much-missed Diana Wynne Jones, the entry on Prophecy begins :
You include a prophecy so that your characters (the Tour Companions) will have no freedom of choice and thus no character development, because no matter what they do, how they squirm, they will fulfill that prophecy line by line, no skipping ahead.
Why would anyone do that?
It can't be just lazy plotting (though that's probably a factor), because usually the reluctant heroes are coerced into action not only by the Prophecy but by some personal incentives as well (known in movie trailers as This time it's personal) such as loved ones being taken prisoner or killed, whole villages being slaughtered, the world is going to end and that means him and his little dog too, .... So if your plot is already poking your character with pointy sticks in the direction you want, what's the prophecy for?
I suppose there's some fun in reading on to find out what twisty language and hidden meanings the prophecy will turn out to be using, but that's kind of a thin, distant pleasure, isn't it? Like doing a really old crossword puzzle.
Where does this expectation of prophecy come from? Tolkien didn't make a big deal of prophecies in Lord of the Rings, as best I recall. There was the business of the sword that is broken, but that was more of a sad song than a directive. David Eddings used a prophecy extensively, but in a rather more unusual way, by making the prophecy a character of sorts.
Maybe if I had read lots of Big Fat Fantasy aka Extruded Fantasy Product I'd have a better idea of the origins and requirements of prophecy in fantasy. Maybe I'd even see the point of it.
But the next time I see a query that uses the word 'prophecy', I'd be thrilled beyond words if it turned out that the prophecy was false or mistaken, or referred to something else entirely. Or was a trap set up by the Evil Overlord.
Or, heck, was just misinterpreted several times, so that everyone thought it had already been fulfilled. How many different historic events have Nostradamus's prophecies been refitted to?
After all, if Mr. Camping can get his doomsday prophecy wrong, why should Seers, Dreams, Runes and Omens always get it right?
Is the Queen's birthday.
If you don't give us a holiday
We'll all run away.
As you may have noticed, the world didn't end, and the Rapture didn't occur this weekend. Which I'm quite pleased about, as here in Canada we have a long weekend, and I'd hate for it to be interrupted by the Tribulations. (The caterpillars are a problem, but not--thankfully--a plague).
It may be that prophecies are in the air, but I was moved to rant over on Evil Editor when the umpty-umpteenth query involving a prophecy and a chosen one who was the only one who could deliver the land from the evil. The chosen one, by the way, was an adolescent girl.
Which is not to assume that the book (or any of the other books fitting those criteria) is necessarily a bad book. Just a book with a plot that made me bang my head on the nearest available flat surface.
In the invaluable Tough Guide to Fantasyland by the wonderful and much-missed Diana Wynne Jones, the entry on Prophecy begins :
is used by the Management to make sure that no Tourist is unduly surprised by events, and by GODDESSES AND GODS to make sure that people do as the deity wants. All Prophecies come true. This is a Rule.Less succinctly, if you are a writer (the Management), you include a prophecy in your book (the Tour) so that your reader (the Tourist) will know ahead of time how the story will end.
You include a prophecy so that your characters (the Tour Companions) will have no freedom of choice and thus no character development, because no matter what they do, how they squirm, they will fulfill that prophecy line by line, no skipping ahead.
Why would anyone do that?
It can't be just lazy plotting (though that's probably a factor), because usually the reluctant heroes are coerced into action not only by the Prophecy but by some personal incentives as well (known in movie trailers as This time it's personal) such as loved ones being taken prisoner or killed, whole villages being slaughtered, the world is going to end and that means him and his little dog too, .... So if your plot is already poking your character with pointy sticks in the direction you want, what's the prophecy for?
I suppose there's some fun in reading on to find out what twisty language and hidden meanings the prophecy will turn out to be using, but that's kind of a thin, distant pleasure, isn't it? Like doing a really old crossword puzzle.
Where does this expectation of prophecy come from? Tolkien didn't make a big deal of prophecies in Lord of the Rings, as best I recall. There was the business of the sword that is broken, but that was more of a sad song than a directive. David Eddings used a prophecy extensively, but in a rather more unusual way, by making the prophecy a character of sorts.
Maybe if I had read lots of Big Fat Fantasy aka Extruded Fantasy Product I'd have a better idea of the origins and requirements of prophecy in fantasy. Maybe I'd even see the point of it.
But the next time I see a query that uses the word 'prophecy', I'd be thrilled beyond words if it turned out that the prophecy was false or mistaken, or referred to something else entirely. Or was a trap set up by the Evil Overlord.
Or, heck, was just misinterpreted several times, so that everyone thought it had already been fulfilled. How many different historic events have Nostradamus's prophecies been refitted to?
After all, if Mr. Camping can get his doomsday prophecy wrong, why should Seers, Dreams, Runes and Omens always get it right?
Sunday, January 25, 2009
more links, more Lincoln (Ha. Ha.)
I think it was Doyle, at VPX, who talked about economics in worldbuilding. That artefacts exist because somebody made them, and somebody paid for them, and somebody transported them to the place they appear. And that you have to consider these factors. Not explain them on the page, as you know, Bob, but that you could explain them if you had to, and it wouldn't contradict what was written.
One of my gripes, when reading fantasy, particularly fantasy set in a pre-industrial world, is orphan artefacts. In Shannon Hale's book, The Goose Girl, set in a kingdom that I'd say approximates 15th-16th c. Europe, one character refers to another kicking a bucket into a crumpled lump of tin. So, there's sheet-metal technology here? Available to peasants living in the woods, but not to anyone else. Another peasant woman knits endless sweaters with metal knitting needles. Yep. Not wood, or bone. Steel. Wire-drawing is not elsewhere referred to. I must suppose that the peasant women are secretly running foundries and rolling mills in those deep forests, cunning vixens that they are.
I should admit that I enjoyed The Goose Girl (the original's about 3d on my list of favourite fairy tales, mostly for the oracular horse's head and the talismanic blood-spotted napkin), and I'm looking forward to reading Hale's Book of a Thousand Days.
But she also gives me the opportunity to gripe about another issue in worldbuilding: work. Not that life was unremitting toil in the pre-industrial world--read the complaints about how the number of church holidays in medieval Europe meant the peasantry weren't getting enough done for their masters--but that people, including children, worked hard and worked long hours. Hale has her goose-girl let off from herding the geese out to the fields because ... because it's raining. So she stays inside with the other servants, none of whom are doing anything much, because it's raining.
My mother used to say, "You're not made of sugar, you won't melt." I imagine the overseer of castle servants might say something a bit harsher. Certainly the geese won't mind the rain.
This is by way of preface to linking you to two excellent essays about getting things right (if historical) or believable (if fantasy):
Writing Backwards: Modern Models in Historical Fiction, an essay by Anne Scott MacLeod in The Horn Book (a source of excellent essays). This one addresses the pernicious 'character with 20th c. worldview dropped into historical setting', discussed elsewhere (I'll add other links if I find them--I know they exist).
Competency and work, one of the Fantasy Rants by the wonderful Limyaael, on how the people who do the work can be just as / more interesting as the Designated Heroes.
UK 08 Lincoln, continued. Lucia and I stayed at the Orchard Guest House, which I can recommend as being comfortable and clean, with a fine view over the town (Lincolnshire is flat fens. There's one hill, so they built the castle and the cathedral on it, presumably to avoid sinking and to keep the population fit.) and easy walking distance to the Castle and Cathedral, and not too far from the Strait and Steep Hill.
We had a wander around, and I tried to take photos of the ecclesiastical architecture but it was difficult to keep my hands steady. I a
lso took pictures of trees, because England! Trees!
On the drive down I'd noticed a number of trees with tangly clumps of nests in them, and my brain had said, smugly, 'rookeries'.
Shut up, brain, I replied, what do you know about rooks? Have you even seen one for sure?
"What are those clumpy nests?" I asked at lunch.
"Rookeries," said everyone.
'Ha, told you,' said my brain, even smugger.
We had supper at Brown's Pie Shop, though we weren't able to get a table in the haunted basement, it being booked for some family do. We were able to nip downstairs as we left, and to call gently for the ghost, "Humphrey, Humphrey?" but there was no response. The food was luscious. I had steak & kidney pie, Lucia had cheese pie. Food in UK restaurants has improved immeasurably since our dreadful experiences 20 years ago.
A couple of pictures that warn of what is to come:
A tree that I think is cool.
Possibly a plane tree.
A bit of stonework that I think is cool, from the gate by the cathedral.
One of my gripes, when reading fantasy, particularly fantasy set in a pre-industrial world, is orphan artefacts. In Shannon Hale's book, The Goose Girl, set in a kingdom that I'd say approximates 15th-16th c. Europe, one character refers to another kicking a bucket into a crumpled lump of tin. So, there's sheet-metal technology here? Available to peasants living in the woods, but not to anyone else. Another peasant woman knits endless sweaters with metal knitting needles. Yep. Not wood, or bone. Steel. Wire-drawing is not elsewhere referred to. I must suppose that the peasant women are secretly running foundries and rolling mills in those deep forests, cunning vixens that they are.
I should admit that I enjoyed The Goose Girl (the original's about 3d on my list of favourite fairy tales, mostly for the oracular horse's head and the talismanic blood-spotted napkin), and I'm looking forward to reading Hale's Book of a Thousand Days.
But she also gives me the opportunity to gripe about another issue in worldbuilding: work. Not that life was unremitting toil in the pre-industrial world--read the complaints about how the number of church holidays in medieval Europe meant the peasantry weren't getting enough done for their masters--but that people, including children, worked hard and worked long hours. Hale has her goose-girl let off from herding the geese out to the fields because ... because it's raining. So she stays inside with the other servants, none of whom are doing anything much, because it's raining.
My mother used to say, "You're not made of sugar, you won't melt." I imagine the overseer of castle servants might say something a bit harsher. Certainly the geese won't mind the rain.
This is by way of preface to linking you to two excellent essays about getting things right (if historical) or believable (if fantasy):
Writing Backwards: Modern Models in Historical Fiction, an essay by Anne Scott MacLeod in The Horn Book (a source of excellent essays). This one addresses the pernicious 'character with 20th c. worldview dropped into historical setting', discussed elsewhere (I'll add other links if I find them--I know they exist).
Competency and work, one of the Fantasy Rants by the wonderful Limyaael, on how the people who do the work can be just as / more interesting as the Designated Heroes.
UK 08 Lincoln, continued. Lucia and I stayed at the Orchard Guest House, which I can recommend as being comfortable and clean, with a fine view over the town (Lincolnshire is flat fens. There's one hill, so they built the castle and the cathedral on it, presumably to avoid sinking and to keep the population fit.) and easy walking distance to the Castle and Cathedral, and not too far from the Strait and Steep Hill.We had a wander around, and I tried to take photos of the ecclesiastical architecture but it was difficult to keep my hands steady. I a
lso took pictures of trees, because England! Trees!On the drive down I'd noticed a number of trees with tangly clumps of nests in them, and my brain had said, smugly, 'rookeries'.
Shut up, brain, I replied, what do you know about rooks? Have you even seen one for sure?
"What are those clumpy nests?" I asked at lunch.
"Rookeries," said everyone.
'Ha, told you,' said my brain, even smugger.
We had supper at Brown's Pie Shop, though we weren't able to get a table in the haunted basement, it being booked for some family do. We were able to nip downstairs as we left, and to call gently for the ghost, "Humphrey, Humphrey?" but there was no response. The food was luscious. I had steak & kidney pie, Lucia had cheese pie. Food in UK restaurants has improved immeasurably since our dreadful experiences 20 years ago.
A couple of pictures that warn of what is to come:
A tree that I think is cool.
Possibly a plane tree.A bit of stonework that I think is cool, from the gate by the cathedral.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
the analog web
This story from the NYT is probably being linked and emailed all over the place. All I have to add, which someone else must have said already, is that this is a Borges story come to life.
Also that it is massively cool, and that I miss 3x5 cards, which came into use in (I think) the 15th c. as temporary records scribbled on the backs of playing cards. Like other temporary measures, they worked surprisingly well and stuck in use. Anyway....
'In 1934, Otlet sketched out plans for a global network of computers (or “electric telescopes,” as he called them) that would allow people to search and browse through millions of interlinked documents, images, audio and video files. He described how people would use the devices to send messages to one another, share files and even congregate in online social networks. He called the whole thing a “réseau,” which might be translated as “network” — or arguably, “web.”' (NYT)
And 'reseau' can also be translated as fishnet, so the older meaning of 'web' - thing that is woven - is closer than it might seem.
Also that it is massively cool, and that I miss 3x5 cards, which came into use in (I think) the 15th c. as temporary records scribbled on the backs of playing cards. Like other temporary measures, they worked surprisingly well and stuck in use. Anyway....
'In 1934, Otlet sketched out plans for a global network of computers (or “electric telescopes,” as he called them) that would allow people to search and browse through millions of interlinked documents, images, audio and video files. He described how people would use the devices to send messages to one another, share files and even congregate in online social networks. He called the whole thing a “réseau,” which might be translated as “network” — or arguably, “web.”' (NYT)
And 'reseau' can also be translated as fishnet, so the older meaning of 'web' - thing that is woven - is closer than it might seem.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Not writing, not writing at all, reading a little
The other night Mark and Chris and I saw Grindhouse. (warning: annoying website) It's nice when we do things together as a family.
Mark had been reading reviews and telling me about the trailers and the Rodriguez zombies, and that the Tarantino movie had Kurt Russell in it as Stuntman Mike. "They made a movie for you, how can you not go and see it?"
I admit, I am a sucker for trailers. Back when Chris was a little codger, I ordered tapes full of trailers from a little company run by a guy who used to act in Andy Warhol films. Nice guy, we corresponded a bit about films; he'd make suggestions about which tapes would keep a toddler's attention (the '60s sf adventure ones, and some Hammer horror). I used to joke that the first words Chris would read would be blurbs like NEVER BEFORE SEEN! AMAZING! SPINE-CHILLING!
The best Grindhouse trailer, for my money, was Don't! by the Sean of the Dead guys. It was note perfect, and the ripped-paper layout was absolutely right. Mark said it gave away all the money shots, but I thought it only stayed on one for too long, and the rest were shown briefly enough to pass.
Chris thought Thanksgiving was the best, and certainly the sample footage of the parade was a beaut, the whole crappy handheld pov camera was just right. The rest of it was a bit meh, but I'm not as well-versed in the slasher-holiday genre.
Machete was brill, especially the part where he opens his coat and it's just wall-to-wall blades - it reminded me of one of my fave kung-fu flicks, Sacred Knives of Vengeance (a film with three endings, one after the other).
Hobo With a Shotgun was perfect in its incoherence and poor production quality. I bow.
Of the features, the Rodriguez Planet Terror was more successful, I thought. He had the selective incompetence down, the overabundance of characters with intertwined backstories, the oh-no-oh-no moments, the badassery and the anyone-can-die ethos.
And some great lines that we've already started quoting:
"I looked for that jacket for two weeks"
"Useless talent number 32."
"I brought you something."
"Self-preservation comes to mind."
"This is my yellow friend. This is my red friend."
Odd, considering that Tarantino is supposed to be the dialogue / banter guy. Chris had some difficulty with Death Proof, because he can't stand Tarantino banter (though I think it was toned down.)
While Death Proof was a fun ride, I thought it suffered from being too much of a turnaround. Once the good guys get the upper hand, they keep it, and the baddie pretty much collapses.
Now, I haven't watched nearly as many car-chase movies as I have zombie flicks, but I have watched more than a couple revenge movies, and once the revenger picks him/herself up and goes after the baddies, the outcome should still be uncertain. At least once it should look as if the revenger has overreached and the baddies will take their revenge, which will be even more appalling because they've been shamed and scared and on the run themselves.
But this does not happen. And because of that, the ending loses some of the hellya! it should have had. Too much time was spent with the cannon fodder, as well. Granted that grindhouse movies had a lot of waste space, this was meant to be a hommage, not a replica.
On the other hand, Zoe Bell makes up for a lot. I wondered if the second part of Death Proof might have been a nod to Aussie film Fair Game, a revenge-chase film featuring Cassandra Delaney doing the hood-ornament turn before she takes revenge. Suppose I'll have to wait for the dvd commentary.
Mark pointed out that although both features supposedly have missing reels, they both run full-length, or darned close. The originals usually ran about 80 minutes, sometimes less. The reason MST3K mocked shorts was that the films they mocked didn't have enough running time to fill their slot.
Reading right now: The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, new edn, by Diana Wynne Jones. Wonderful book. This edition has a back-cover essay on how she came to write the first edition - while working on The Encyclopedia of Fantasy with John Clute. This caused me to hit Reference and check the Encyclopedia, and...gosh...I can see how it inspired her. Many, many of the entries could have been taken over with minimal editing.
Somehow or other, I never read much Extruded Fantasy Product. Which may have been a merciful escape. I'm still able to laugh at the Tough Guide, and at Limyaael's fantasy rants, (which are terrific writing advice anyways) but perhaps I'd get more out of them if I'd suffered for my art by reading dozens of cod-mediaeval pseudo-Tolkien doorstops. I'm having a perverse desire to hit the thrift shops and find some for cheap. If nothing else, so that I can look at their maps.
I admit it, I'm not very bright. I bought the Tough Guide at the beginning of March, and I only yesterday figured out that the map is Europe upside down. You may now pelt me with clues.
Mark had been reading reviews and telling me about the trailers and the Rodriguez zombies, and that the Tarantino movie had Kurt Russell in it as Stuntman Mike. "They made a movie for you, how can you not go and see it?"
I admit, I am a sucker for trailers. Back when Chris was a little codger, I ordered tapes full of trailers from a little company run by a guy who used to act in Andy Warhol films. Nice guy, we corresponded a bit about films; he'd make suggestions about which tapes would keep a toddler's attention (the '60s sf adventure ones, and some Hammer horror). I used to joke that the first words Chris would read would be blurbs like NEVER BEFORE SEEN! AMAZING! SPINE-CHILLING!
The best Grindhouse trailer, for my money, was Don't! by the Sean of the Dead guys. It was note perfect, and the ripped-paper layout was absolutely right. Mark said it gave away all the money shots, but I thought it only stayed on one for too long, and the rest were shown briefly enough to pass.
Chris thought Thanksgiving was the best, and certainly the sample footage of the parade was a beaut, the whole crappy handheld pov camera was just right. The rest of it was a bit meh, but I'm not as well-versed in the slasher-holiday genre.
Machete was brill, especially the part where he opens his coat and it's just wall-to-wall blades - it reminded me of one of my fave kung-fu flicks, Sacred Knives of Vengeance (a film with three endings, one after the other).
Hobo With a Shotgun was perfect in its incoherence and poor production quality. I bow.
Of the features, the Rodriguez Planet Terror was more successful, I thought. He had the selective incompetence down, the overabundance of characters with intertwined backstories, the oh-no-oh-no moments, the badassery and the anyone-can-die ethos.
And some great lines that we've already started quoting:
"I looked for that jacket for two weeks"
"Useless talent number 32."
"I brought you something."
"Self-preservation comes to mind."
"This is my yellow friend. This is my red friend."
Odd, considering that Tarantino is supposed to be the dialogue / banter guy. Chris had some difficulty with Death Proof, because he can't stand Tarantino banter (though I think it was toned down.)
While Death Proof was a fun ride, I thought it suffered from being too much of a turnaround. Once the good guys get the upper hand, they keep it, and the baddie pretty much collapses.
Now, I haven't watched nearly as many car-chase movies as I have zombie flicks, but I have watched more than a couple revenge movies, and once the revenger picks him/herself up and goes after the baddies, the outcome should still be uncertain. At least once it should look as if the revenger has overreached and the baddies will take their revenge, which will be even more appalling because they've been shamed and scared and on the run themselves.
But this does not happen. And because of that, the ending loses some of the hellya! it should have had. Too much time was spent with the cannon fodder, as well. Granted that grindhouse movies had a lot of waste space, this was meant to be a hommage, not a replica.
On the other hand, Zoe Bell makes up for a lot. I wondered if the second part of Death Proof might have been a nod to Aussie film Fair Game, a revenge-chase film featuring Cassandra Delaney doing the hood-ornament turn before she takes revenge. Suppose I'll have to wait for the dvd commentary.
Mark pointed out that although both features supposedly have missing reels, they both run full-length, or darned close. The originals usually ran about 80 minutes, sometimes less. The reason MST3K mocked shorts was that the films they mocked didn't have enough running time to fill their slot.
Reading right now: The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, new edn, by Diana Wynne Jones. Wonderful book. This edition has a back-cover essay on how she came to write the first edition - while working on The Encyclopedia of Fantasy with John Clute. This caused me to hit Reference and check the Encyclopedia, and...gosh...I can see how it inspired her. Many, many of the entries could have been taken over with minimal editing.
Somehow or other, I never read much Extruded Fantasy Product. Which may have been a merciful escape. I'm still able to laugh at the Tough Guide, and at Limyaael's fantasy rants, (which are terrific writing advice anyways) but perhaps I'd get more out of them if I'd suffered for my art by reading dozens of cod-mediaeval pseudo-Tolkien doorstops. I'm having a perverse desire to hit the thrift shops and find some for cheap. If nothing else, so that I can look at their maps.
I admit it, I'm not very bright. I bought the Tough Guide at the beginning of March, and I only yesterday figured out that the map is Europe upside down. You may now pelt me with clues.
Thursday, December 7, 2006
et alia
Novels that I am not writing because I am writing The Willow Knot:
The Workings of Blood (isn't that a great title? It isn't mine.) - historical fantasy novel, second in the Regency vampire series written by Mayne and myself, currently in my hands.
The Fate of the Dead - historical fantasy in the same world, twenty-plus years later, episodic tales of ghost-laying, based on folkloric ghosts in East Anglia.
The Cost of Silver - historical fantasy in Stuart England, revenants and witch-hunters. The main characters are a fat old woman and an ugly young man, and it ends badly. Not very commercial, I suspect.
Children of Mercury - historical mystery set in early Renaissance Florence, with a painter as detective. Could be a series, one for each of the planets - the Sun and the Moon count as planets in medieval astrology, by the way.
Bookwyrms - modern fantasy, set in a small university town stolen from Victoria and UVic. But, y'know, renamed for safety's sake. Books, libraries and dragons - who needs more?
Short stories waiting while I finish (tentative title) "Milk Run", which is the chimps on blimps story:
"Climbing Boys": baroque sf (if I can sneak it in as an sf story I will) mashing up multiple personality disorder, laying of ghosts, chimney sweeps and a murdered labour agitator. I'm hoping to keep it under 5k.
"Elementary Magic" (title may change): historical fantasy. English court magician comes up against Chinese magic during the Boxer Rebellion, and finds out he's one element short. Aiming at 7k.
"Refuge": fantasy. What happens to heroes, villains and traitors when the saga is over? Probably not over 3k, unless it goes off sideways.
"Firestriker": hah. I have an opening, and I have no idea what comes after it. This is sitting to steep while longer, because I do like the opening. Modern sf if I pull it off.
"Aptitude Test": modern sf. I know what happens in this one, but it needs to be more than a 'reveal' story to work. Needs to steep.
Wonder if I've forgotten any? Probably.
Ideas are easy to come by, and characters aren't hard either. They arise naturally from the situation. But plot is my challenge. Either I come up with barely enough plot to clothe the poor idea decently and hide its shame, or there's so much plot the story swells into a novelet.
Practice will probably help with that. I had a very useful critique on "Fluke" suggesting it had two warring plots and would be better with only one. This is very likely true, but I'm not at all sure I presently have the skills to separate conjoined plots without killing both.
The Workings of Blood (isn't that a great title? It isn't mine.) - historical fantasy novel, second in the Regency vampire series written by Mayne and myself, currently in my hands.
The Fate of the Dead - historical fantasy in the same world, twenty-plus years later, episodic tales of ghost-laying, based on folkloric ghosts in East Anglia.
The Cost of Silver - historical fantasy in Stuart England, revenants and witch-hunters. The main characters are a fat old woman and an ugly young man, and it ends badly. Not very commercial, I suspect.
Children of Mercury - historical mystery set in early Renaissance Florence, with a painter as detective. Could be a series, one for each of the planets - the Sun and the Moon count as planets in medieval astrology, by the way.
Bookwyrms - modern fantasy, set in a small university town stolen from Victoria and UVic. But, y'know, renamed for safety's sake. Books, libraries and dragons - who needs more?
Short stories waiting while I finish (tentative title) "Milk Run", which is the chimps on blimps story:
"Climbing Boys": baroque sf (if I can sneak it in as an sf story I will) mashing up multiple personality disorder, laying of ghosts, chimney sweeps and a murdered labour agitator. I'm hoping to keep it under 5k.
"Elementary Magic" (title may change): historical fantasy. English court magician comes up against Chinese magic during the Boxer Rebellion, and finds out he's one element short. Aiming at 7k.
"Refuge": fantasy. What happens to heroes, villains and traitors when the saga is over? Probably not over 3k, unless it goes off sideways.
"Firestriker": hah. I have an opening, and I have no idea what comes after it. This is sitting to steep while longer, because I do like the opening. Modern sf if I pull it off.
"Aptitude Test": modern sf. I know what happens in this one, but it needs to be more than a 'reveal' story to work. Needs to steep.
Wonder if I've forgotten any? Probably.
Ideas are easy to come by, and characters aren't hard either. They arise naturally from the situation. But plot is my challenge. Either I come up with barely enough plot to clothe the poor idea decently and hide its shame, or there's so much plot the story swells into a novelet.
Practice will probably help with that. I had a very useful critique on "Fluke" suggesting it had two warring plots and would be better with only one. This is very likely true, but I'm not at all sure I presently have the skills to separate conjoined plots without killing both.
Tuesday, December 5, 2006
work in progress
Maybe I should be a bit more specific than 'the book'? The book I'm presently working on is tentatively titled The Willow Knot (63.7% chance of bestsellerdom at the Lulu Titlescorer) and is a retelling of the Grimm tale 11, 'Brother and Sister'. You can read an English translation of the story here, and Sur la Lune's version and notes here.
'Brother and Sister' has been one of my favourites since childhood, more than any of the better-known tales like 'Hansel and Gretel' or 'Sleeping Beauty'. The heart of the story, to me, is this:
And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a little house, and the girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, "We can stay here and live."
Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the roe; and every morning she went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand, and was content and played round about her. In the evening, when the sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head upon the roebuck's back: that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it.
And if only the brother had had his human form it would have been a delightful life.
'Brother and Sister' hasn't been a hot pick for retelling. In Terri Windling's anthology The Armless Maiden, it inspired a short story and essay by Ellen Steiber and a poem by Windling. Bruno Bettelheim discussed it in The Uses of Enchantment. There are a couple of picture book versions, one of which has a lovely garden scene illustrating the ending where the stepmother-witch is burnt to death. This may create a dilemma for the parent reading out loud, though I don't know whether it would be easier if there were, for instance, a pillar of smoke rising from behind the garden wall.
Retelling a fairy tale poses specific problems. People in fairy tales are like people in ballads. They do not behave in a reasonable fashion. They're allowed to have motivations like 'just plain evil' and 'inhumanly long-suffering'.
People in novels don't get that permission. They have to be believable. Partly this is a feature of length, partly of format. The ballad 'Bonnie Banks of Fordie' (North American version is 'Bonnie Bonnie Banks of the Vergie-o') is only a few verses long, and the listener doesn't usually ask why not one of the three sisters runs away while the banished man is threatening them. Turn that into a short story and in 7,000 words the question will arise.
So I have to consider questions such as why the stepmother (aunt in my version) hates the children, why the young king falls in love with a girl who's been living rough in the forest for years instead of one of the lovely, clean, well-dressed young ladies at court, and what the witch did with the queen's body after suffocating her?
Answering the questions is fun, and helps to bump the wordcount.
Wordcount...I am not a speedy writer. Here's a rough progress of The Willow Knot:
August 05 3,600
September 05 7,400
October 05 11,100
November 05 12,800
December 05 14,000
January 06 17,000
February 06 21,100
April 06 21,700
May 06 22,600
June 06 23,000
July 06 23,300
August 06 24,000
September 06 25,300
October 06 28,600
November 06 35,400
December 06 46,400
I'm aiming for a complete first draft of about 80k, to be hacked down to 75k. So you see I have a way to go if I really think I'm going to have the first draft complete by the end of the year. I'll post my wordcount as I go.
Next time, perhaps I'll talk about my other works in progress, the ones I'm neglecting for the sake of The Willow Knot.
'Brother and Sister' has been one of my favourites since childhood, more than any of the better-known tales like 'Hansel and Gretel' or 'Sleeping Beauty'. The heart of the story, to me, is this:
And when they had gone a very long way they came at last to a little house, and the girl looked in; and as it was empty, she thought, "We can stay here and live."
Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a soft bed for the roe; and every morning she went out and gathered roots and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand, and was content and played round about her. In the evening, when the sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head upon the roebuck's back: that was her pillow, and she slept softly on it.
And if only the brother had had his human form it would have been a delightful life.
'Brother and Sister' hasn't been a hot pick for retelling. In Terri Windling's anthology The Armless Maiden, it inspired a short story and essay by Ellen Steiber and a poem by Windling. Bruno Bettelheim discussed it in The Uses of Enchantment. There are a couple of picture book versions, one of which has a lovely garden scene illustrating the ending where the stepmother-witch is burnt to death. This may create a dilemma for the parent reading out loud, though I don't know whether it would be easier if there were, for instance, a pillar of smoke rising from behind the garden wall.
Retelling a fairy tale poses specific problems. People in fairy tales are like people in ballads. They do not behave in a reasonable fashion. They're allowed to have motivations like 'just plain evil' and 'inhumanly long-suffering'.
People in novels don't get that permission. They have to be believable. Partly this is a feature of length, partly of format. The ballad 'Bonnie Banks of Fordie' (North American version is 'Bonnie Bonnie Banks of the Vergie-o') is only a few verses long, and the listener doesn't usually ask why not one of the three sisters runs away while the banished man is threatening them. Turn that into a short story and in 7,000 words the question will arise.
So I have to consider questions such as why the stepmother (aunt in my version) hates the children, why the young king falls in love with a girl who's been living rough in the forest for years instead of one of the lovely, clean, well-dressed young ladies at court, and what the witch did with the queen's body after suffocating her?
Answering the questions is fun, and helps to bump the wordcount.
Wordcount...I am not a speedy writer. Here's a rough progress of The Willow Knot:
August 05 3,600
September 05 7,400
October 05 11,100
November 05 12,800
December 05 14,000
January 06 17,000
February 06 21,100
April 06 21,700
May 06 22,600
June 06 23,000
July 06 23,300
August 06 24,000
September 06 25,300
October 06 28,600
November 06 35,400
December 06 46,400
I'm aiming for a complete first draft of about 80k, to be hacked down to 75k. So you see I have a way to go if I really think I'm going to have the first draft complete by the end of the year. I'll post my wordcount as I go.
Next time, perhaps I'll talk about my other works in progress, the ones I'm neglecting for the sake of The Willow Knot.
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