Monthly Archives: May 2008

Heading Out

Back to Ohio. We’ll see if we can get there without any delays.

Have a good Monday. While you’re taking the day off, remember why you’re being given the day off, and remember those whose lives Memorial Day commemorates.

Hear Me Blab

I was featured on the SyFy Radio broadcast last night, and they’ve put the show online for you to listen to here. I’m on the show currently featured at the top of the page, and you can also find it a couple entries down for download, etc. Note that the media player starts running when you pull up the page. I show up around the 25 minute mark; there’s five minutes of minimal technical glitchiness, but everything pulls together about the 30 minute mark.

Brevity, Etc.

It occurs to me it’s been about a week since I’ve written a post that is more than a couple of graphs. Well, I’ve been busy. With life! Outside of Whatever! Yes, it’s possible. I know some of you doubt it. But there it is.

How is your Sunday?

Worldcon in Reno?

For those of you with a science fictional bent, there’s a group of fan who have just decided to put in a bid for the 2011 Worldcon to be held in Reno, Nevada.

I think this is a fairly interesting choice, myself. Apparently the Reno Visitor’s Bureau wants the convention in town, and it’s a city where the accommodations, etc would be generally less expensive than in other bigger cities, which for cash-strapped fans has its own appeal. The other 2011 bid I know of is in Seattle, which should make for an interesting compare and contrast for SF fans, in terms of choices. I’d be happy with either, so I guess I win no matter what. I like it when that happens.

In a Stunning Betrayal of Everything I Stand For as a Writer and a Human Being

I’m currently writing in a coffee shop:

I could say it’s because I’m just I’m letting the hotel service staff tidy up my room, and that it’s the Starbucks in the hotel lobby, and that I’m the only person in the seating area, so there’s no one to impress. But honestly, those are all just rationalizations, aren’t they. Yes, yes. Let the class action suit from the purchasers of the Coffee Shop book commence. I’ve no one but myself to blame.

RIP, Robert Asprin

Fans of the Myth Adventures series will be saddened to learn that Robert Asprin died yesterday. It was apparently peacefully, on the couch, with a science fiction book in his hand. He was scheduled to be a Guest of Honor at Marcon this weekend. I have a lot of friends who really enjoyed the Myth Adventures as well as other Asprin books, so I don’t think it’s wrong to say he’ll be missed.

Flo-Da

I’ve arrived in the great, sunshiny state of Florida, where it is in fact rather overcast and thundery. The brochures! They totally lied!

Anyway: Hi, I’m alive. How are you?

Away From Keyboard

Be back later. Here, have an open thread.

Conversation starter: What’s the longest you’ve stayed awake (without the help of drugs stronger than caffeine and nicotine)?

I clocked about 80 hours once myself, in high school. I knew I was in trouble when I started hallucinating. I suspect if I tried to stay awake that long now, my brain might snap in two.

Speaking of which: Off to sleep.

Because Sometimes It’s Fun to Listen to Brats

This song has been earworming me all morning (NB: 30 second clip):

Girlfriend – Avril Lavigne

And it’s my own damn fault, because I referenced Avril Lavigne in something I wrote. Stupid of me, I know.

That said, I like the song, even though (or possibly because) at this point in life it is wildly outside my own frame of reference. The chances of some young thang applying the content of the song to me are roughly the same as me getting hit by a meteor, and even if one did, what I would do is patiently explain the difference between me and, say, Zac Efron. And if that didn’t work, Krissy would just beat the crap out of her. Problem solved. But it’s still catchy. Which is all I ask out of Avril Lavigne, really.

Here’s the video, in case now you can’t get it out of your head until you listen to the whole thing. It has 84 million views, which suggests that we’ll be hearing this song from now until the end of our days. Prepare yourself.

StarShipSofa on Scalazi

The folks at StarShipSofa have done a podcast show on me and my work (it’s show #89), and it’s an amusing listen, not the least because the fellow consistently mispronounces my name as “Scalazi,” but does so in a charming accent, the provenance of which I am entirely unsure about (Scottish? Scouse? Scoustish?), so it’s hard to get at all annoyed about it. That said, for SSS’s future reference, “Scalzi” rhymes with “ballsy,” or, at least, it does when I say it. Anyway, it’s a fun podcast (if slightly spoilery if you’ve not read Old Man’s War); check it out.

One Day’s Haul

People have wondered how many books I receive from publicists/authors/editors who’d like me to mention the book/have the author do a Big Idea/Just want to give me stuff. Well, here’s what just came in today from FedEx:

That’s twelve books so far today. And I haven’t checked the mail yet, nor have I received a visit from UPS or DHL, both of which trundle up my driveway with books on a pretty much daily basis.

And here are some other books/ARCs I’ve received in the last couple of weeks (give or take — my shelving is a little loose, time-wise):

This doesn’t include a small stack of non-fiction science books, which I plan to chat up in a separate entry, or the advance of Nancy Kress’ latest, Dogs, which Krissy saw, said “Oooh, that looks good,” and snatched from the pile. There were even more new ARCs/books in here prior to my birthday, but they’ve now been exiled to the basement, in totes — accessible if I need them but out of the way. Krissy is already eyeing the new arrival stack suspiciously, and will eye it even more suspiciously now that there are a dozen new books in it. There is another tote bin in the closet to deal with them, however. The office will remain tidy. Or I will be killed. And then I will be no good to anyone.

This is, incidentally, the best of all possible worlds. People sending me free books? And free books I want to read? Kings don’t live this well. There is the minor problem that I can’t actually physically read every single book that is sent to me; I’m not Harriet Klausner, after all. But I am delighted both to be kept in step with what’s coming up in the book world and awash in books books booky books.

I think I do a pretty good job flying the flag for other writers with the Big Idea pieces, but even if I do a couple of those a week I’m still not noting most of what I get sent, or even most of what I’d like to note to people. I’m trying to figure out a good way to do that that doesn’t take a huge amount of my time; maybe what I do is just a once or twice-weekly “New Arrivals” photo shoot with maybe a bit of commentary, or possibly something on the sidebar. I’ll figure it out.

In the meantime: Look! Cool new and upcoming books. See anything you think you’d like?

The Big Idea: Walter Jon Williams

This week’s Big Idea is special. Not only does famed author Walter Jon Williams explain the whys and wherefores of his big new novel Implied Spaces to you, but he also finally explains what UFOs are made of! You will be shocked and surprised, as I was. And you will also find out what, if anything, this discovery has to do with Implied Spaces. Honestly, if you don’t come out of this enlightened in one way or another, you’re just not trying hard enough. Read it again, why don’t you.

To get the ball rolling, Williams is here to admit something to you (aside from the composition of UFOs, that is). Mr. Williams, what is it that you want to admit?

WALTER JON WILLIAMS

It has to be admitted that I suck at dreams.

I don’t remember most of my dreams, for one thing. What little I do remember is pointless surrealism, and there’s little worse than surrealism without a point.

Early in my writing career I sometimes would wake in the middle of the night from a dream I was sure would make a good story. Always I promised to remember the dream in the morning, and always I failed. Determined not to let any more masterpieces slip through my fingers, I decided to keep a dream diary.

Sure enough, I soon woke with a brilliant literary idea. I reached for the bedside light, the notebook, and the pencil, and I jotted the idea down. Happy in the knowledge that I’d preserved a fictional treasure, I turned off the light and went back to sleep.

When I woke I grabbed the notebook and read, in very shaky handwriting, the following story idea:

UFOs ARE REALLY MADE OF BREAD.

Really. That’s what it said.

I briefly contemplated writing a story about a flying saucer made of pumpernickel rye, and then I gave up on the whole idea of keeping a dream diary.

Occasionally, though, I get a dream right. Back in the Eighties, I got two novels in a row out of dreams: Knight Moves and Hardwired. The first was nominated for an award, and the second remains my best-selling book to this day.

In each case, the dream wasn’t so much a dream but a fragment. An image, benign in one case, malignant in the other, that lasted only a few seconds, but that was so powerful that it conveyed a substantial emotional jolt. Though each brief vision was stunning, there was also an element of ambiguity that managed to suggest that a lot more was going on than was contained within the frame of the image— a novel’s worth, in both cases.

Since then, dreams have not played much of a part in creating my fictions, which are usually assembled out of sweat, time, and cold hard speculation.

Till Implied Spaces, anyway. A few years ago I awoke from a dream that I actually remembered, that contained some striking, powerful images, and that not only failed to be surreal but that had a plot.

I viewed the dream from the point of view of the protagonist, a person who (other than loaning me the use of his eyes) was not otherwise me. The character was a swordsman wandering through some desert country, and was employed, or had employed himself, to track down a group of bandits that had been preying on caravans. He had assembled a motley group of adventurers for this purpose, and in due time tracked the bad guys to their hideout, a hidden oasis.

The swordsman’s partner was a talking cat, who acted as a scout, and who turned out not to be the most fantastic element in the story. For when the swordsman’s posse attacked the bandits, it was discovered that the outlaws were in the employ of evil magicians. These super bad guys had blue skin, red eyes, and dressed in robes and black turbans. They had little balls that flew about on the ends of their fingers, like junebugs tied to strings, and when these balls chased you, they caused you to disappear with a clap of thunder.

It’s the sort of thing that takes a wandering swordsman aback.

I won’t spoil the suspense by telling you if, or how, the protagonist dealt with this discovery.

I’ll only mention that the first 100 pages of Implied Spaces came right out of that dream. And also that the story elements asked more questions than they answered. I had no idea who the protagonist was, other than a pair of eyeballs that I borrowed during a dream. A world with blue-skinned evil magicians, talking cats, and wandering swordsmen might not be unusual as sword-and-sorcery, but I happen to be a science fiction writer. Though I’ve sometimes written fantasy, it’s hard-edged enough so that the casual reader often mistakes it for SF.

So I amused myself by taking a sword-and-sorcery story and propping it up with science fiction underpinnings. There was a reason for the talking cat, and technological supports for blue-skinned magicians and the stuff they got up to, and a reason why the inhabitants of this desert had access only to medieval technology.

At some point I pull back and reveal all this, just like a film in which the camera tracks back to reveal what is behind the scenery. Such a “reveal” (to use fiction-writers’ cant) is intended to cause the reader to re-evaluate everything he or she knows about what’s going on.

And you know what? It was such fun to pull such a major reveal, that I kept right on revealing. As I built the plot— something I always do before I ever actually write anything— every so often I built in a big blockbuster Gotcha!, in which the camera pulls back to reveal yet more scenery all different from the previous scenery, with all sorts of unanticipated things happening in the scenery to cause the reader to re-evaluate what has gone before. Each time the camera draws back, the scene keeps getting bigger and bigger until it becomes, literally, cosmic.

One of the things I’m saying, I guess, is that you shouldn’t read Implied Spaces if you don’t like surprises.

This is a book in which the fact that human beings create whole universes out of nothing is just a part of the background. It’s not even the biggest idea in the book. A lesser writer might have been satisfied with building the novel around the people-creating-universes idea, but not me.

Quite a number of my books involve taking several Big Ideas, accelerating them to near lightspeed in my Plot Accelerator, and then smashing them together just to see what happens. Implied Spaces features invented universes, nanotechnology, bodies-on-demand, zombies, talking animals, the pervasiveness of the electronic world, magic swords, some of the freakier aspects of wormhole physics, a not-quite-Singularity, and a lot of Big Questions— questions about why we’re here, why the universe was made, what our purpose is, and so on. (Questions, by the way, which I make bold to answer.)

There’s also a love story. Did I mention the love story?

And poetry. I don’t know how smart it is to mention the poetry, it might make people not want to read it. Suffice it to say that while I am not a good poet, I can imitate one when I have to.

I’ve lately been oppressed by the feeling that, in the last few books, I’ve been sort of holding myself back, trying to give the reader not so much what the reader wants, but what some executive in a publishing company thinks the reader wants.

No more. When it’s gonzo universe creatin’ time, the gonzo get creatin’!

I’m back, and I’ve got a Plot Accelerator and I know how to use it!

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Read Walter Jon Williams’ blog here.