So I watched It Might Get Loud the other day. The title may well be the best thing about the film. It is supposed to be a history of the electric guitar told by three rock guitarist of different generations. Perhaps it succeeded on this front, but not really in my eyes.
Even if it did, it could have been so much more. There can be conflict in a documentary and there can be expression; only don't look for them in this film. I felt they asked Jimi Page, The Edge, and Jack White to 'interview' each other, rather than have someone with a storytelling agenda press forward with certain issues. It's not exactly as if any of the three are journalist...
The best underused content to me was Page saying--out loud-- "Pop music is rubbish," and then all parties involved let a comment like that die... even the lead guitarist from a 'pop band' like U2.
It could have been so much more.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The greatest idea ever
How cool would this be?
An itunes-esque store for short stories would make me very happy. Countless collections come out and I can't afford them all and there are usually only a handful of stories in each that I would really want to add to my 'permanent collection.' I'm still not a fan of the e-readers I've gotten my hands on but if I could buy a single story from a collection, much like a single song from a CD, then I'd be hard pressed to not ask Santa for a Kindle.
The idea is fraught with problems. Least of which include, 'how do authors get paid,' and 'will there be exclusivity among the different brands of e-readers? ' (Which would be an instant deal killer for me, because I wouldn't buy more than one device just to ensure I could read all the materials I wanted).
Still how badass would it be to type in "Michael Swanwick" in the itunes store and get a catalogue of his short stories for purchase?
Some one who does stuff like this, please hurry up and make it happen.
An itunes-esque store for short stories would make me very happy. Countless collections come out and I can't afford them all and there are usually only a handful of stories in each that I would really want to add to my 'permanent collection.' I'm still not a fan of the e-readers I've gotten my hands on but if I could buy a single story from a collection, much like a single song from a CD, then I'd be hard pressed to not ask Santa for a Kindle.
The idea is fraught with problems. Least of which include, 'how do authors get paid,' and 'will there be exclusivity among the different brands of e-readers? ' (Which would be an instant deal killer for me, because I wouldn't buy more than one device just to ensure I could read all the materials I wanted).
Still how badass would it be to type in "Michael Swanwick" in the itunes store and get a catalogue of his short stories for purchase?
Some one who does stuff like this, please hurry up and make it happen.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Patricia McKillip and I
At the random suggestion of someone at the library I started reading The Tower at Stony Wood. Previously, I've read Alphabet of Thorn and The Tower at Stony Wood seems to be extracting much the same feelings from me.
I want to like her writing. I feel like I should enjoy the story she tells, but for some reason, I don't. For whatever reason, I have a hard time getting my bearing with her prose. I feel like her writing is not grounded and I have a hard time telling up from down let alone even guessing where the story is going. It's not the allusive writing of Toni Morrison though it has an airy abstract feeling to it, but for me it seems to have similar intangible qualities. I don't mind odd presentation, or suggestive writing that makes me think, but I do need something concrete to build on.
I'm sure she is amazing and worth all the praise and accolades given her, but her ability seems to be lost on me.
Update 12/28/2009
I just read a short story by her in Wizards: Magical Tales from the Masters of Modern Fantasy edited Jack Dann and Gardner Dozois call Naming Day and absolutely loved it.
Seems I am ever the hypocrite.
I want to like her writing. I feel like I should enjoy the story she tells, but for some reason, I don't. For whatever reason, I have a hard time getting my bearing with her prose. I feel like her writing is not grounded and I have a hard time telling up from down let alone even guessing where the story is going. It's not the allusive writing of Toni Morrison though it has an airy abstract feeling to it, but for me it seems to have similar intangible qualities. I don't mind odd presentation, or suggestive writing that makes me think, but I do need something concrete to build on.
I'm sure she is amazing and worth all the praise and accolades given her, but her ability seems to be lost on me.
Update 12/28/2009
I just read a short story by her in Wizards: Magical Tales from the Masters of Modern Fantasy edited Jack Dann and Gardner Dozois call Naming Day and absolutely loved it.
Seems I am ever the hypocrite.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Oddities in female writing
I've been reading a lot of fiction, both short stories and novel length material, by women authors the second half of the year. Perhaps it's the sample of material I've read, but I've noticed some peculiarities about women authors.
Excluding the 'classics' and period works, the contemporary ones I've read come across as very forward. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It struck me as strange that very rarely do women want to make love, rather they hurry up to the four-letter word variations. They tolerate the men in their world, but truly have no use for them. To my surprise, the vast majority of the substantial men in the sample of books I read seem to have very strong homosexual tendencies if they aren't outright gay. And there is nothing wrong with that, but it has been cliched unto my sample of reading to see a story with a strong, independent female lead and an average Joe, best friend male who happens to gay.
I've never claimed to understand the female mind, but apparently I have even less of a clue than I originally supposed.
Oh, yeah, and the antagonist is always male. Always. Because men are bad. I'm looking forward to broadening my reading by female authors to see how long these queer quarks hold true. Octavia Butler, Margaret Atwood, Ursula K. LeGuin, A.S. Byatt, and Cathrynne Valente are in the immediate future.
Excluding the 'classics' and period works, the contemporary ones I've read come across as very forward. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It struck me as strange that very rarely do women want to make love, rather they hurry up to the four-letter word variations. They tolerate the men in their world, but truly have no use for them. To my surprise, the vast majority of the substantial men in the sample of books I read seem to have very strong homosexual tendencies if they aren't outright gay. And there is nothing wrong with that, but it has been cliched unto my sample of reading to see a story with a strong, independent female lead and an average Joe, best friend male who happens to gay.
I've never claimed to understand the female mind, but apparently I have even less of a clue than I originally supposed.
Oh, yeah, and the antagonist is always male. Always. Because men are bad. I'm looking forward to broadening my reading by female authors to see how long these queer quarks hold true. Octavia Butler, Margaret Atwood, Ursula K. LeGuin, A.S. Byatt, and Cathrynne Valente are in the immediate future.
The Limits of my Genre Interest
I started, and put down, Anathem by Neal Stephenson last night. I gave it my best shot, but after two hundred pages there was nothing to keep me interested.
Two things about this book jumped out at me. The first was the "Note to the Reader" written by the author. It was essentially a set of guidelines on how to read this particular book. The inclusion of such a message is when I felt the first tendrils of dislike latching onto my put-this-book-down gene. Those used to reading speculative fiction and figuring things out were encouraged to skip over the message, and so I did. It was the inclusion of the message to the benefit of everyone else that worried me.
How exclusive is such a message? How elite is a book such as Anathem that a reader unaccustomed to reading science fiction may need, 'assistance' in getting through. If such assistance is needed, what is to be said for 'enjoyment?'
Perhaps, readers unaccustomed to the argot, history, and personalities within the world of classical music and politics concerning Western Europe during both World Wars shouldn't read The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax. Or perhaps it is a testament to the Romano-Lax's writing that a neophyte in all those areas can read, understand, and enjoy the book with out the need of an outside reference. (The Spanish Bow, is a purely random example, the first book I saw, when glancing at the books shelf.)
The second issue I had with Anathem was the inclusion of a glossary. The first book that I can recall reading that included a glossary of terms was The Eye of the World, by Robert Jordan. I also remember not knowing the glossary was there until I finished the book and was left wondering what the last twenty pages were. I didn't use the glossary. I read the book in a few short days and was able to keep all the information straight in my mind, and furthermore, there was nothing foreign presented that I was unable to figure out with context.
Is there a better way to detach your reader from the story you are telling then by making them rely on a glossary of terms? It is particularly frustrating when a standard English word is re-assigned a definition at the whim of the author. Gene Wolfe has a particular gift for what people often perceive to be the art of "making words up." But he relies on context, an astute reader, a multitude of world language idioms to make himself clear; not a glossary.
I think this is one of the reasons I tend to walk softly upon hardcore sci-fi and fantasy. If you're going to invite me into your world, make sure the primer is thin and readily understandable. In short I felt there was a learning curve to merely open the book. Perhaps, I'm not cunning enough to enjoy what was given, but for me, the price of admission was too high.
After all that, I can't bring myself to part with this book. I'll give it another try sometime down the line, and perhaps have a wholly different experience and resend my current sentiments expressed here. But for now, this is strike one...
Two things about this book jumped out at me. The first was the "Note to the Reader" written by the author. It was essentially a set of guidelines on how to read this particular book. The inclusion of such a message is when I felt the first tendrils of dislike latching onto my put-this-book-down gene. Those used to reading speculative fiction and figuring things out were encouraged to skip over the message, and so I did. It was the inclusion of the message to the benefit of everyone else that worried me.
How exclusive is such a message? How elite is a book such as Anathem that a reader unaccustomed to reading science fiction may need, 'assistance' in getting through. If such assistance is needed, what is to be said for 'enjoyment?'
Perhaps, readers unaccustomed to the argot, history, and personalities within the world of classical music and politics concerning Western Europe during both World Wars shouldn't read The Spanish Bow by Andromeda Romano-Lax. Or perhaps it is a testament to the Romano-Lax's writing that a neophyte in all those areas can read, understand, and enjoy the book with out the need of an outside reference. (The Spanish Bow, is a purely random example, the first book I saw, when glancing at the books shelf.)
The second issue I had with Anathem was the inclusion of a glossary. The first book that I can recall reading that included a glossary of terms was The Eye of the World, by Robert Jordan. I also remember not knowing the glossary was there until I finished the book and was left wondering what the last twenty pages were. I didn't use the glossary. I read the book in a few short days and was able to keep all the information straight in my mind, and furthermore, there was nothing foreign presented that I was unable to figure out with context.
Is there a better way to detach your reader from the story you are telling then by making them rely on a glossary of terms? It is particularly frustrating when a standard English word is re-assigned a definition at the whim of the author. Gene Wolfe has a particular gift for what people often perceive to be the art of "making words up." But he relies on context, an astute reader, a multitude of world language idioms to make himself clear; not a glossary.
I think this is one of the reasons I tend to walk softly upon hardcore sci-fi and fantasy. If you're going to invite me into your world, make sure the primer is thin and readily understandable. In short I felt there was a learning curve to merely open the book. Perhaps, I'm not cunning enough to enjoy what was given, but for me, the price of admission was too high.
After all that, I can't bring myself to part with this book. I'll give it another try sometime down the line, and perhaps have a wholly different experience and resend my current sentiments expressed here. But for now, this is strike one...
Monday, November 16, 2009
Book Signing
So I meet Brandon Sanderson and Harriet McDougal Friday night (which isn't very hard to do). A few things struck as soon as I arrived: Sanderson is only five years older than I, fully two thirds, if not more, of the two-hundred plus people there were women, and that attending this signing was probably something akin to going to Dragon Con.
Sanderson is a very genuine guy: nice and very approachable. I was inclined to like him through past email exchanges. Mrs. McDougal, Robert Jordan's widow, is a true southerner so I liked her right away, not to mention that she is an all around charming lady. I didn't get called on during the Q & A but after chatting with a new friend Mick for two hours and waiting to get in the end of the line I was able to speak to both, albeit it was still rather brief.
I asked my standard question to fantasy writers about sequels and books in a series and got some standard answers. I could tell they both wanted to speak at length but unfortunately for me they had other obligations. There were a few late attendees who needed books signed, pictures taken and babies autographed so nothing in depth was truly shared.
As much as I like Sanderson, I'm not gonna pick up the wheel of time again due to his involvement. I put that series down for a good reason. As goofy (in a good way) as he is, his autograph is stranger still. I can almost read it… kinda. But I'm not sure I could convince anyone that he actually signed my book.
It was fun. Reading is so solitary its always nice to see people come together--offline-- with the expressed intent of talking about books.
If you plan to go to the signing and you don't mind missing the Q & A and the reading, both of which were Wheel of Time related, then I'd say go about two and half to three hours late. He'll be finishing up and have time to talk.
Sanderson is a very genuine guy: nice and very approachable. I was inclined to like him through past email exchanges. Mrs. McDougal, Robert Jordan's widow, is a true southerner so I liked her right away, not to mention that she is an all around charming lady. I didn't get called on during the Q & A but after chatting with a new friend Mick for two hours and waiting to get in the end of the line I was able to speak to both, albeit it was still rather brief.
I asked my standard question to fantasy writers about sequels and books in a series and got some standard answers. I could tell they both wanted to speak at length but unfortunately for me they had other obligations. There were a few late attendees who needed books signed, pictures taken and babies autographed so nothing in depth was truly shared.
As much as I like Sanderson, I'm not gonna pick up the wheel of time again due to his involvement. I put that series down for a good reason. As goofy (in a good way) as he is, his autograph is stranger still. I can almost read it… kinda. But I'm not sure I could convince anyone that he actually signed my book.
It was fun. Reading is so solitary its always nice to see people come together--offline-- with the expressed intent of talking about books.
If you plan to go to the signing and you don't mind missing the Q & A and the reading, both of which were Wheel of Time related, then I'd say go about two and half to three hours late. He'll be finishing up and have time to talk.
Friday, November 13, 2009
What comes next.
I started reading Roots by Alex Haley and through about two-hundred pages I can't recall being spoon feed a story in greater detail by any other author. To me the writing is dead on the page, quiet literally it is all telling and no showing: turn your brain off and accept what is given; no reader imagination required.
It seemed odd to me because the beginning ( I'm not sure if was exposition yet ) contained so many foreign elements that I read it all as a missed opportunity. Perhaps it's my love of world-building in fantasy novels, but everything that should have been new and exciting came across as boring and inconsequential. An amazing culture that is so rarely dealt with was being glossed over in a laughable manner.
Everyone knows this book, whether or not we have read it. Everyone knows who Kunta Kinte is and what this story is about. The most compelling part for me--the part I was looking for--and what saw me through the boring beginning (I'm not gonna pull punches anymore) was, wondering when will the abduction come that will mark the true beginning of Kunta's life? Every time he left the village, I felt the possibility, and I was always looking out for him as a reader. It was a weird sort of engagement because the writing had no affect of me, but knowing what was coming, and having it constantly put off until later, heightened my anticipation to the point that I was crying out for xanax.
It reminded me of some of the prominent passages in Toni Morrison's Beloved which I recently finished. She has many an odd story telling mechanics, but the one that struck me the most is her presentation of a climax to the reader without any foreplay. She is far from the first to employ such a tactic, but it is one that I feel continually fails except in Morrison's case; odder still both parties bought into the philosophy. We, the reader, knows something important has happened, but we don't know why it should affect us or the characters the way it does. I'd call it a literary wet dream, where you wake up with evidence of certain events, but still wonder, "What happened?"
It is a difficult thing to know a particular event before it's significance is explained.
Just so there is no confusion, their are precious few similarities between Beloved and Roots. I didn't particularly care for the former, but it is amazing and brilliantly done, the later...
It's hard to speak words of praise to Haley considering the blatant plagiarism, forgery, and complete fabrication of the story that he sold to the world as genealogical history. It is harder still to praise his 'ability' as a writer; as I said earlier, I was never engaged by his combination of words to elicit a specific feeling from the reader, rather the occurrence of something expected kept me going. That said, all of these mitigating circumstances--and complete lack of anything of interest happening--that lead up to chapter thirty-four combined for what was without doubt the most intense reading experience of my life. In no way am I a fan of horror fiction, but I can think of nothing scarier and begrudgingly I can stay that events of that chapter were significantly heightened by all that preceded it.
The night I read that passage, I still could have used some xanax, but to calm down after reading the events that I already knew were going to take place. It is not rare for me to stay up till two in the morning reading, but it's never happened before that I stay away till two in the morning, scared out of my mind concerning what I've just read.
It seemed odd to me because the beginning ( I'm not sure if was exposition yet ) contained so many foreign elements that I read it all as a missed opportunity. Perhaps it's my love of world-building in fantasy novels, but everything that should have been new and exciting came across as boring and inconsequential. An amazing culture that is so rarely dealt with was being glossed over in a laughable manner.
Everyone knows this book, whether or not we have read it. Everyone knows who Kunta Kinte is and what this story is about. The most compelling part for me--the part I was looking for--and what saw me through the boring beginning (I'm not gonna pull punches anymore) was, wondering when will the abduction come that will mark the true beginning of Kunta's life? Every time he left the village, I felt the possibility, and I was always looking out for him as a reader. It was a weird sort of engagement because the writing had no affect of me, but knowing what was coming, and having it constantly put off until later, heightened my anticipation to the point that I was crying out for xanax.
It reminded me of some of the prominent passages in Toni Morrison's Beloved which I recently finished. She has many an odd story telling mechanics, but the one that struck me the most is her presentation of a climax to the reader without any foreplay. She is far from the first to employ such a tactic, but it is one that I feel continually fails except in Morrison's case; odder still both parties bought into the philosophy. We, the reader, knows something important has happened, but we don't know why it should affect us or the characters the way it does. I'd call it a literary wet dream, where you wake up with evidence of certain events, but still wonder, "What happened?"
It is a difficult thing to know a particular event before it's significance is explained.
Just so there is no confusion, their are precious few similarities between Beloved and Roots. I didn't particularly care for the former, but it is amazing and brilliantly done, the later...
It's hard to speak words of praise to Haley considering the blatant plagiarism, forgery, and complete fabrication of the story that he sold to the world as genealogical history. It is harder still to praise his 'ability' as a writer; as I said earlier, I was never engaged by his combination of words to elicit a specific feeling from the reader, rather the occurrence of something expected kept me going. That said, all of these mitigating circumstances--and complete lack of anything of interest happening--that lead up to chapter thirty-four combined for what was without doubt the most intense reading experience of my life. In no way am I a fan of horror fiction, but I can think of nothing scarier and begrudgingly I can stay that events of that chapter were significantly heightened by all that preceded it.
The night I read that passage, I still could have used some xanax, but to calm down after reading the events that I already knew were going to take place. It is not rare for me to stay up till two in the morning reading, but it's never happened before that I stay away till two in the morning, scared out of my mind concerning what I've just read.
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