Author: Bart

Review: The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin

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The Fifth Season, by N.K. Jemisin, needs little introduction. Released to great acclaim, for good reason, it marks Jemisin’s authoritative ascendance into the company of elite sci-fi/fantasy writers of our day.

The story follows three women, all of whom are Orogenes, people who have the ability to call upon the powers of the earth. In this world, earthquakes are very common, and whole civilizations have been swallowed by previous quakes. Orogenes are capable of shaping, redirecting, or even causing earthquakes.

Orogenes are also viewed with distrust and suspicion by non-Orogenes.

One of the reasons why I loved this book so much, besides Jemisin’s beautiful writing and her deft plotting, is that it demonstrates one of the great strengths of genre books – its ability to critique and comment on contemporary society. Jemisin, a black writer, draws clear parallels between racial tensions (Black Lives Matter, Ferguson, et al) to the tensions between Orogenes and non-Orogenes. She also conveys what’s it’s like to live as people who have to constantly be on guard, have to watch not just their behavior and language, but also the way they think.

Take, for example, this passage between Syen, one of the main characters, and her mentor Alabaster – who in addition to teaching her the ways of being an Orogene, is forced to sleep with her so that they can make Orogene children for the Fulcrum. The Fulcrum is a school for Orogenes, and children are raised there to master control over their powers:

[Alabaster] rolls onto his back, looking up at the sky, and she thinks that’s the end of the conversation, until he says, “I think you hate me because…I’m someone you can hate. I’m here, I’m handy. But what you really hate is the world.”

At this Syen tosses her washcloth into the bowl of water she’s been using and glares at him. “The world doesn’t say inane things like that.”

“I’m not interested in mentoring a sycophant. I want you to be yourself with me. And when you are, you can barely speak a civil word to me, no matter how civil I am to you.”

Hearing it put that way, she feels a little guilty. “What do you mean, then, that I hate the world?”

“You hate the way we live. The way the world makes us live. Either the Fulcrum owns us, or we have to hide and be hunted down like dogs if we’re ever discovered. Or we become monsters and try to kill everything. Even within the Fulcrum we always have to think about how they want us to act. We can never just…be.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “There should be a better way.”

“There isn’t.”

Being white, I don’t often think about how I’ll be perceived by others, but this is a very real thought process for a lot of black Americans – for many, there’s a constant, unending pressure on them to act a certain way, to say (or not say) certain things. Wanda Sykes makes this point much better and funnier than I ever could. And if you doubt this is true, just take a look at the YouTube comments for that video, always a font of wisdom. Here’s two that stood out for me:

Black people are naturally talented in music. Black slaves were demanded to perform in dinner parties to entertain the white people. It became their natural talent. It’s hard to find a black person who can’t sing or dance.

Or this:

“Ya know what dignified black people hate?   Tapdancin.”  –Wanda Sykes trying to be funny. There are very few dignified blacks.  Learn how to speak first.  And try not to spend the welfare money on booze and cigarettes.

Yeah. Moving on.

The reason I bring this up is because Orogenes have this natural, deep reservoir of power, power that’s controlled by others. The three main characters are all, at some point, have to answer to forces beyond themselves. When they finally do exercise their own powers, the earth itself literally trembles.

The Fifth Season has a lot going for it. You can read it on the surface level, and enjoy it for the story and the fantastic writing alone. It’s easy to read it that way. But like Orogenes, the book’s power runs deep. And that, more than any other reason, is why this is a memorable, worthy read, one that should place it among the firmament of science fiction and fantasy’s greatest novels.

On Dialogue: ‘Said’ Is Perfectly Fine. Leave It Alone.

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Let’s talk about that Wall Street Journal article, shall we?

It went mildly viral a few weeks ago, and not for a good reason.

In a nutshell, the article is about a few teachers who are trying to get students to stop using “dead” words like “good,” “bad,” “fun,” and “said.”

From the article:

Her pupils know better than to use a boring word like “said.” As Ms. Shelton put it, “ ‘Said’ doesn’t have any emotion. You might use barked. Maybe howled. Demanded. Cackled. I have a list.”

Dear god.

There’s a reason why we use “said” in writing. It’s an invisible word. Loading it with too many modifiers or replacing it with something else can often be distracting, and you run into the risk of Tom Swifties.

“We just struck oil!” Tom gushed

is probably my favorite example from that page.

The Harry Potter books, as much as I love them, are guilty of this. Harry doesn’t just simply “say” something. He shouts, mutters, screams. Ron even ejaculated once (oh my). Harry, Hermione, and Ron say things peevishly, loudly. Dumbledore speaks wisely. Snape slowly. And so on.

Look, most writers do modify their “saids” once in a while, but they do it for a specific reason. They want to leave no ambiguity about how their character is speaking.

But wait, you might be saying, why not do that all the time?

The truth is, if you’re writing dialogue well, you don’t need to.

“Stop right there!” (do you need to clarify that the speaker is shouting?)

“You’re really fucking pissing me off.” (do you need to clarify that the speaker is mad?)

When you’re going through your manuscript, watch out for these modifiers, and get rid of them. As many as you can. Keep only the ones that are absolutely, positively, necessary. Otherwise, you can just use “said” for 99% of the time and your work will be that much better for it.

Some authors think that using “said” almost exclusively will get repetitive, but that’s the beautiful thing – “said” is damn-near invisible. Look at this exchange from Doomsday Book by Connie Willis:

 “Badri collided with her on the way back to the net,” Dunworthy said.

“Are you absolutely certain?” Mary said.

He pointed at the woman’s friend, who had sat down now and was filling out forms. “I recognize the umbrella.”

“What time was that?” she said.

“I’m not positive. Half past one?”

“What type of contact was it? Did he touch her?”

“He ran straight into her,” he said, trying to recall the scene. “He collided with the umbrella, and then he told her he was sorry, and she yelled at him for a bit. He picked up the umbrella and handed it to her.”

“Did he cough or sneeze?”

“I can’t remember.”

The woman was being wheeled into Casualties. Mary stood up. “I want her put in Isolation,” she said, and started after them.

See? It was used 5 times in that short a span, and if you weren’t looking for it, you probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“But Bart, that scene had no passion. Nobody was expressing emotions. Where’s the shouting?” How about this:

“What’s the meaning of this?” Gilchrist said. “What are you doing here?”

“I”m going to bring Kivrin through,” Dunworthy said.

“On whose authority?” Gilchrist said. “This is Brasenose’s net, and you are guilty of unlawful entry.”

…

“You have no right to speak to me that way,” Gilchrist said. “And no right to be in this laboratory. I demand that you leave immediately.”

Dunworthy didn’t answer. He took a step toward the console.

“Call the proctor,” Gilchrist said to the porter. “I want them thrown out.”

See? If it’s good enough for a Hugo, Nebula-award winning author, it’s good enough for you. Because I said so.

Book Review: Zero World by Jason Hough

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The common thread through this whole action-packed sci-fi novel, Zero World by Jason Hough is, in a word, mystery.

Peter Caswell is an assassin who works for a mysterious organization. But he’s no ordinary assassin, because his memory of the mission gets wiped every time, leaving him with no memory – or guilt – of those who he killed. Who did he kill, and why? He doesn’t know – and he doesn’t want to know.

The book begins when his employer assigns him to investigate a spaceship that mysteriously disappeared and has since re-appeared. Its entire crew – save one person – mysteriously turns up dead. And that one person? Missing, of course.

I won’t give away any more of the plot, suffice it to say that it’s a page turner because author Jason Hough is adept at leaving a trail of questions for the reader. As soon as something is revealed, another mystery pops up in its place.

The writing is excellent – it’s simple and straightforward. The characters are fleshed out, and the action scenes are thrilling without becoming sodden from too many details that so many authors love to inject in them. If you start reading this book, make sure you have a few hours to kill, because it’s awfully hard to put down.

Thematically, it explores self-identity. Peter doesn’t want to remember anything about his past life, and another character has to wear a mask in order to survive, and a third character projects to be someone she is not. In each case, they’re forced to confront their own sense of self and their preconceived notions on how things ought to be. Since who they want to be and who they actually are come into conflict, it helps drive the plot. Hough gives us just enough of this element to make his characters feel developed and three-dimensional, but not so much that it drags down the story.

Disclaimer: I won a free copy of this book via giveaway. If I didn’t like the book, or thought it was just all right, I wouldn’t be leaving this review. This book is legit, y’all.

Book Review: Leviathan Wakes by James SA Corey

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There are few things in life as enjoyable as a space opera that just focuses on telling a good story.

Leviathan Wakes by James SA Corey one of those books.

The first in a series, it can be read as a standalone, but you really should read the others (I’ll be reviewing them in due time).

It tells the story of first contact, essentially. The book opens with a character encountering a strange and deadly alien life-form, and that chapter ends on an ominous note. From there, we meet our two central protagonists for the story, a detective straight out of noir and a captain straight out of seafaring and space-faring tropes along the likes of Firefly and Aubrey/Maturin.

They’re surrounded by a well-rounded and diverse (literally) cast of characters, each with unique and eclectic backgrounds. For the most part, they feel fleshed out and have their own agency, though a couple of secondary characters aren’t quite as memorable as others. Personally, I had a hard time distinguishing Alex and Amos, though not for James SA Corey’s lack of trying. One is a pilot and the other is a mechanic. One is from Mars with a Texan twang and the other is an engineer from Earth. And even as Corey continued to remind readers of this throughout the book, I still kept going, “Wait, which one’s which?” Though that probably speaks to my attention span more than anything else.

Easily the best thing about this book is the feel of the universe. It’s totally believable, with Earth, Mars, and the Outer Planets (inhabited by Belters). The Belters have their own patois and sense of priorities. Corey’s world-building is exceptional – interesting and detailed enough but not so much that it distracts from the plot.

The plot is well-paced, and the style of writing feels cohesive (I felt this was worth noting since James SA Corey is actually two people, Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck).

If you’re looking for a space opera with intrigue, a well-paced plot, action and mystery, you really can’t do much better than Leviathan Wakes.

Help, My Scene Sucks and I Don’t Know Why

~ Bart ~ 2 Comments

We’ve all been there. We have an idea of a scene we want to write, and we get to the business of putting thought to words. We slave away at it. Maybe it goes smoothly, and suddenly, your story is 2,000 words richer and it was one of those writing sprees that felt effortless.

Or maybe it was one of those days where every single letter that came out was absolute torture, and a measly 350 words later, you finally ground something out before raising your hands with frustration and walking away.

But the writing’s done. The scene’s done. We’re good to go, right?

And then we re-read it. And it’s crap. Utter, pure crap. How the hell did it get that way? What happened to the thing I had in my head? Why is it so miserable on page? The words are fine, there are some lovely sentences in there, but the scene, ugh. Blah. Other indistinct noises.

The worst thing? I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with it. WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS SCENE?! There’s nothing obviously bad about it. It just doesn’t do anything for me.

Who here among us hasn’t had that experience?

The good news is that the way to diagnose what’s wrong with a scene is actually pretty simple. The hard part is doing something with it.

For any scene to work, you need 3 things:

  • A want
  • An obstacle
  • A resolution

Want, obstacle, resolution. If your scene sucks and you don’t know why, look for those things. This isn’t new or particularly original, I lifted this straight from Jerry Cleaver’s IMMEDIATE FICTION. I highly recommend this book (seriously, run, do not walk, to your nearest bookstore and get it).

Essentially, your character has got to want something. If the scene doesn’t strongly convey what he/she wants, then you have to figure that out.

Secondly, whatever s/he wants, she can’t get it. At least, not easily. There has to be an obstacle in his/her way. The obstacle has to be as great as the desire for it.

Did Captain Ahab find Moby-Dick just off the shore of Massachusetts?

Did Romeo seduce Juliet and live happily ever after?

Did Dorothy call an Uber within minutes of landing in Oz and make her way back to Kansas right away?

No. Of course not.

The other thing you can do with the obstacle is allow your character to get what s/he wants, but use dramatic irony to twist it in a way that makes your character suffer. Remember, when you are a writer, you are a soulless, evil god who exists only to torment your characters until that final moment of satisfaction and resolution at the very end.

Simba from the Lion King just couldn’t wait to be king! So the evil geniuses at Disney made it so – they killed off dear old dad (spoilers, I guess) and suddenly the path to the throne was clear. Immediately, Simba realized he didn’t quite want to be king so quickly, did he? He got what he wanted…just not how he imagined it.

And then there has to be a resolution. Cliffhangers count as a resolution, but remember, a scene has to move the story forward. A resolution brings clarity to the want/obstacle dynamic, and propels the plot forward (unless, of course, we’re talking about the ultimate Resolution, or the end of the book, but that’s another topic for another day).

So there you have it. If your scene sucks and you don’t know why, check out the want, obstacle, and resolution. Chances are, the problem with your scene lies with one or more of these things. Make each element as clearly stated as possible, and then the scene will come together much better. You won’t be out of the woods yet, most likely, but you’ll at least be able to diagnose what’s wrong with your scene and work on fixing it.

Book Review: Hyperion by Dan Simmons

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Hyperion by Dan Simmons is an interesting book in a number of ways. It’s a sendup of the Canterbury Tales, replete with references to Keats. The majority of the story focuses on the seven pilgrims making a trip to the world of Hyperion to visit the Shrike, which is apparently set to extinguish life in the universe. They’re there to try to either sacrifice themselves in the hopes of stopping the Shrike, or overpowering it themselves directly. The pilgrims all realize that they each have deep, dark secrets, and if they’re going to bare their souls before the Shrike, they should know everything there is about each other before facing an all-powerful being. And so we launch into the Priest’s Tale, the Soldier’s Tale, and so on.

The premise is pretty thin, if not slightly ridiculous, but the storytelling more than makes up for it (despite the fact that Simmons occasionally gets a little carried away with his prose. A sky is always lapis, for example).

Each of those tales is marked by a mysterious, unexplained event that borders on mysticism. Not exactly hard sci-fi.

By far the most compelling is the Scholar’s Tale, which focuses on Sol Weintraub and his daughter, Rachel, who was studying something known as the Time Tombs, when she was affected by an unexplained occurrence. As a result, Rachel is aging backward in time. Benjamin Button this ain’t, for as Rachel grows younger, she loses her memories, and Sol is forced to watch his daughter’s identity slowly unravel every morning when she wakes up, and over time, loses the traits and knowledge that makes Rachel, Rachel.

This book could be read as a standalone, but it’s clearly meant to be read with The Fall of Hyperion, the next in the series. It’s also an example of what science fiction does best – it can flesh out an allegorical message into actual plot events. No starship troopers blowing up aliens on a pock-marked desolate battlefield here. Even the soldier isn’t exempt from the mysterious and unexplained.

Mistakes I’ve Made, Edition #1: Character and Passion

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Note: The Mistakes column is going to look at the mistakes I’ve made, how they can be fixed. My advice won’t be for everyone, but maybe there will be something you can take to heart.

Think of all the great characters in storytelling. Doesn’t have to be literature – you can even think of titans of TV like Tony Soprano, Walter White, Don Draper, or movie heroes like Ellen Ripley, Scarlett O’Hara, Michael Corleone.* What if I threw names at you like Romeo, Gatsby, Frodo, Dorothy, Ahab, Buffy? Do you get clear, vivid senses of who they are and what they embody?

That’s character.

* Yes, I’m aware that Scarlett and Michael are also book characters. Just go with me here.

Now think of all the other forgettable characters you’ve come across. Take a peek at your bookshelf, or the books on your desk, and scan the titles. How many books have standout characters? Not many, right?

Why is that?

They don’t jingle your bells. They don’t leap out from the page or the screen and grab you by the throat and demand, Look at me! Pay attention!

So what are some of the elements out there that you can use to make your characters stand out? Here are a few traits that a lot of standout characters share.

Standout characters aren’t always likable. In my case, my first efforts at character sucked. They were limp and unmemorable. They were perfect in every way – the best fighters, the best lovers, the funniest, the smartest, the most beautiful. Hell, if they had any flaws, it was just that they cared too much.

*Retches*

As a result, they didn’t stand out. And that was largely because they were essentially Mary Sues/Gary Stus. My characters were usually decent, likable, morally sure of themselves, loyal and always made smart decisions. In short, the people you want to get to know in real life.

Now look at the names I’ve mentioned above. How many of these people do you really want to meet in real life? Sure, Gatsby sounds like a lot of fun – all those parties! Until you realize he’s a needy narcissist who holds a torch for a married woman and hasn’t gotten over her, and is willing to use you or dispose of you based on your relationship with said woman. Buffy is a great human, except she’s constantly getting her friends and family in serious danger. An apocalypse will do that to you. Stand too close to Dorothy, and you risk getting squished by a house or kidnapped by flying monkeys. And so on.

And do you really want to get close to someone like Tony Soprano or Walter White? I didn’t think so.

They face a ton of obstacles. Back to my Mary Sue/Gary Stu. The other thing I didn’t do right was throw enough obstacles in their way. They had problems and difficulties, sure, but they handled them just fine. Problem? Problem solved! They were too clever and smart for such piddling little quibbles. All bad guys were conquered! Sure, they got a few bruises and got knocked down a couple of times, but come on, the outcome was inevitable. Bring on the next bad guy!

Standout characters don’t act like that. Ahab didn’t find Moby Dick easily. Ellen Ripley was cornered at almost every scene by a problem. Frodo didn’t exactly hop, skip, and sing into Mordor. No, the creators of such characters were cruel, vicious gods, throwing every single possible torment they could to their character.

And not only that, they exploited their character’s specific weaknesses. Walter White is a proud individual, and there were numerous instances throughout Breaking Bad where he would have gotten away, scot-free, but for his pride. It was like a scab, and the creators of Breaking Bad picked at it every chance they got. For example, all Walt had to do, in the beginning of the show, was accept the offer of charity from his rich friends to get his cancer treatment, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to do that.

They’re obsessed. Finally, my characters weren’t obsessed. Not nearly enough. How could they be, if they were decent folk who got along just fine? They had nothing to lose, really. The characters I mentioned up top all do.

Can anyone doubt that Captain Ahab wanted to kill Moby Dick? That Romeo loved Juliet? That Humbert Humbert lusted after Lolita? That is what separates the mundane characters from the transcendent. They have passion, and they wear it on their sleeves. That doesn’t mean the characters themselves have to be outwardly passionate – Michael Corleone is a stone-cold villain. But his desires are never in doubt.

What it means for your character. If your character feels uninspiring, then consider these questions:

– What does s/he have to lose? If nothing, then give him/her something to lose. And make sure they lose it, or come very close to it.

– If the character walked away from the problem in your story, what would the effect be? If the answer is, not much, then you’re doing it wrong. Make it so that the character absolutely, positively, cannot walk away.

– What is your character’s greatest flaw? Is it pride? Lust? Wrath? Does s/he love a certain someone so much that s/he can’t see the big picture? Whatever it is, exploit it. Make every obstacle touch on your character’s most vulnerable points.

There’s lots more to character than this, obviously, but if your character lacks passion, if your character isn’t obsessed, then that character won’t stand out.

Book Review: Ancillary Justice

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“Ancillary Justice” by Ann Leckie is an excellent book, though not an easy read. The plot: A ship known as the Justice of Toren is an AI unit, and to carry out its wishes, makes use of “ancillaries” – basically, corpses converted into extensions of the AI. But the Justice of Toren was annihilated, with the exception of a single surviving ancillary known as Breq, and Breq is on a quest for revenge to destroy those who nearly destroyed her.

What makes it stand out from the usual sci-fi fare is that it has incredible depth, thematically (Ancillary Justice has won a boatload of awards, by the way). Breq, for example, can represent the way we express ourselves. In other words, I act differently around my mother than I would around a friend, my husband, or my boss. I have different “ancillaries,” so to speak, but it’s still all coming from the same brain.

Justice of Toren is thousands of years old, and can simultaneously communicate with all its ancillaries; yet Breq has developed subtle little personality traits that distinguish her from the other ancillaries from Justice of Toren (she likes singing, for example).

The book also takes a feminist approach, most notably in the way every character is referred to as “she.” Much has been made of its similarities to Ursula Le Guin’s Left Hand of Darkness (another excellent book that explores gender themes). The end result, though, is that it highlights how meaningless gender constructs are, and puts a real emphasis on character and action. Besides, if gendering a character is important to you, it’ll all sort itself out in your head anyway.

The writing itself is brilliant, though like I said, it’s not an easy read. But this is the kind of book that exemplifies how science fiction can be a potent commentary and critique of humanity. Sounds lofty? Sure is. But so is this book.

From Writer to Author – or, How Little Writing Authors Actually Do

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Welcome to my page. You might be wondering why I called this post “From Writer to Author” – it’s meant to convey the two different definitions of the terms.

Like many others, I’m an aspiring author. Who isn’t? While I can say that I’ve been published in a few places – the Philadelphia Inquirer, Weird New Jersey, the Asbury Park Press, and a few others – I haven’t published a book. A real, live book that I can hold in my hands. That I can smell. That I can put on my shelf.

But I am a writer. I’m currently writing two books that I hope to publish. I’m obviously writing in this blog. But because I haven’t published a book yet, I don’t consider myself an author.

That difference is key in my mind. Writers are those who write (obviously), but authors are those who have published books – and from what I’ve learned, there’s a surprisingly small emphasis on the actual writing itself for those published authors. I had always assumed that writing was the main thing for authors, and it’s not. Rewriting is. But we’ll get to that another time.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way, and I’ve been learning from them. Trying to, at least. A friend of mine and I wrote a book together – we conceived it, co-wrote it, had beta readers, researched agents, and sent it out.

And promptly got rejected.

And that process was a turning point. Before then, I read a number of how-to-write books, but the lessons went over my head. I’ve re-read them, and a few others besides, and now I finally feel like I’m making progress as a writer. As I said, I’m working on two books, and the difference from before getting rejected and after is significant.

So I’ve decided that while this project is going on, I’m going to call myself a writer, and not an author. I’ll only allow myself to be called an author when, and only when, I get published.

I realize that in the world of eBooks and self-publishing, the barriers to becoming an author is easier than ever. But for the purpose of this project, publishing eBooks or self-publishing will not qualify me as an author.

That’s not to say that those who take that route are bad writers, or that it’s not a legitimate approach to take. There are many wonderful, highly successful authors who have self-published (Andy Weir, author of “The Martian,” comes to mind, as does Alan Sepinwall and his “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised“). If you’re a member of their camp, then I give you all the credit in the world. Wear your author badge, and wear it proudly.

Personally, however, that’s not for me. That’s not my goal. I want to see if I have what it takes to overcome the obstacles in getting published, and will only consider myself successful if I accomplish that.

I don’t claim to be an expert, or even a particularly good writer. But I have learned a few things along the way, things I think can help other aspiring writers. And it’s my hope that I’ll be able to use this space to share those things, as well as post reviews of other books I’m reading and other news and tidbits here.

That’s my ultimate goal. To no longer describe myself as an aspiring writer, but to be an author. And hopefully, help some of you achieve that same goal.