Tuesday, November 21
"This is a list of the 50 most significant science fiction/fantasy novels, 1953-2002, according to the Science Fiction Book Club. Bold the ones you've read, strike-out the ones you hated, italicize those you started but never finished, and put an asterisk* beside the ones you loved."
Now with commentary!
1. The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien* Read it when I was seven. It rocked my world then. It rocks my world now. And I still have hippie-environmentalist-gasms over the Retaking of the Shire.
2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov I'm pretty sure there were more than three of these. Either that, or those three were even longer and duller than I remember. I mean, I like Asimov in a way, but even as a kid I used to visualise poking the characters so's to watch them fall over with a cardboard clatter.
3. Dune, Frank Herbert Read when I was eleven. There were cool wormies and the sequels sucked. Hmm. That I can't remember more probably means it's due a reread.
4. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein *sigh* Sex, cannibalism, bouncy interchangeable women. Fine, Bob. You're cutting edge. Now go away.
5. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin* Actually this book freaked me out as a child, in that "freaked so I read it a dozen times" kind of way. That shadow-thing was creepy. Tombs was probably my favorite of the trilogy, though.
6. Neuromancer, William Gibson Pretty shiny things. Shame the main character is a waste of good oxygen.
7. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke
8. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick Look, man, it's Dick. It's like scoring acid for the price of a paperback. I swear I walk funny after he's done with my brain....
9. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley This book was responsible for my mother's frequent announcements of, "We need rain, kids, so your father and I will be upstairs performing a fertility ritual. Bye!" Do you think it's too late to sue for emotional scarring?
10. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury Mmm. Scary post-apocolyptic Bradbury. Not my favorite of his stuff, but I don't think it's possible for the man to write bad.
11. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe -- I never got the hang of Wolfe. I can see the good there, but it's like reading a dream, and I like my waking hours with causality and basic logic, thanks.
12. A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr. It's on the pile! Honest!
13. The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov
14. Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras
15. Cities in Flight, James Blish I really liked bits of these, didn't like other bits, found other bits quaint and dated. The first of the cycle is probably my favorite.
16. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett Read it at twelve and became a Pratchett fan for life, though in retrospect twelve was probably the best age to read it.
17. Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison
18. Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison
19. The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester I can count the number of antihero stories I like on the fingers of one hand. This is the pinkie.
20. Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany
21. Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey Dammit, I won't diss McCaffery; she was one of the major delights of my childhood, even if now I read her prose and flinch a bit. It may be fluff, but it's fluff with power.
22. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card This one, on the other hand, I think i was a bit old for when I read it. It reads like overly pretentious martyrdom to me. Well-written, but subtextually suspect.
23. The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant by Stephen R. Donaldson Ick, ick, ick. What a pointlessly depressing series that was. Of course, I was ten when I read it, which probably didn't help.
24. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman Another mixed experience: really liked bits, but there were a lot of other bits that were uncomfortably dated.
25. Gateway, Frederik Pohl
26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling It's bubble gum, but hey, sometimes you need a little bubble gum. And anything that makes more kids read is good in my book.
27. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams Hee! Like Pratchett, I read it young, though these days I like Pratchett a lot more -- less bitter. Still. Adams is da man.
28. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
29. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
30. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin* Very. Good. Book. But LeGuin is an idol of mine; I can't be objective about her.
31. Little, Big, John Crowley I know I read this, and as an adult, but my only memory of it is a vague sensation of dreamlike things happening in a very big house. This often happens to me with Crowley, sadly.
32. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny I read it. It was okay, but I never got what all the fuss was about.
33. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick I had to look this up on Wikipedia to make sure I'd read it; all of Dick tends to blur into one massive paranoid drug-trip after a while. I have, though, and liked it.
34. Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement Not on my list. I have read Hal Clement. It's hard to think of a more boring way to spend an afternoon short of reading an actual physics paper.
35. More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon
36. The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith* Man. This was... some seriously beautiful stuff. Hard to say much about it more than that. Simply beautiful.
37. On the Beach, Nevil Shute Uh, I listened to "Walk Me Out In the Morning Dew". Does that count?
38. Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke
39. Ringworld, Larry Niven
40. Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys
41. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien Well, I fell asleep over it, anyways. Do yourself a favor and stick with the stuff Tolkien considered publishable.
42. Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut
43. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson* Hee. Far more my style than Gibson. Though Stephenson doesn't seem to know how to deal with endings, and hadn't yet hit on the ultimate solution as seen in his most recent series, eg, "just keep going, they'll buy it!"
44. Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner Sheep Look Up was enough terrifying goodness for me.
45. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester That antiheroes-on-one-hand thing? Yup. This is the thumb. Or maybe the index finger, who cares?
46. Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein Nice read, but I fail to see anything more striking than that in it.
47. Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock
48. The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks What? They were fun books. Not very original, but if stealing plot was the way for Brooks to escape the mind-numbing dullness of some of his later works, then so be it.
49. Timescape, Gregory Benford
50. To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip Jose Farmer
----
Twenty-nine out of fifty's not too bad. But man. So many books. So little time.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 434
Comments: Woke up cranky and still made myself write. Mind over matter! Virtue over sloth! I don't have to like it, though.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: Must stop dogpiling gestures. The reader will get the idea even if I don't include the faint sideways tilt of her head as she twitched her fingers and raised an eyebrow while... BAD KAT!
Snips: Nothing good today.
Now with commentary!
1. The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien* Read it when I was seven. It rocked my world then. It rocks my world now. And I still have hippie-environmentalist-gasms over the Retaking of the Shire.
2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov I'm pretty sure there were more than three of these. Either that, or those three were even longer and duller than I remember. I mean, I like Asimov in a way, but even as a kid I used to visualise poking the characters so's to watch them fall over with a cardboard clatter.
3. Dune, Frank Herbert Read when I was eleven. There were cool wormies and the sequels sucked. Hmm. That I can't remember more probably means it's due a reread.
4. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein *sigh* Sex, cannibalism, bouncy interchangeable women. Fine, Bob. You're cutting edge. Now go away.
5. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin* Actually this book freaked me out as a child, in that "freaked so I read it a dozen times" kind of way. That shadow-thing was creepy. Tombs was probably my favorite of the trilogy, though.
6. Neuromancer, William Gibson Pretty shiny things. Shame the main character is a waste of good oxygen.
7. Childhood's End, Arthur C. Clarke
8. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick Look, man, it's Dick. It's like scoring acid for the price of a paperback. I swear I walk funny after he's done with my brain....
9. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley This book was responsible for my mother's frequent announcements of, "We need rain, kids, so your father and I will be upstairs performing a fertility ritual. Bye!" Do you think it's too late to sue for emotional scarring?
10. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury Mmm. Scary post-apocolyptic Bradbury. Not my favorite of his stuff, but I don't think it's possible for the man to write bad.
11. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe -- I never got the hang of Wolfe. I can see the good there, but it's like reading a dream, and I like my waking hours with causality and basic logic, thanks.
12. A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr. It's on the pile! Honest!
13. The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov
14. Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras
15. Cities in Flight, James Blish I really liked bits of these, didn't like other bits, found other bits quaint and dated. The first of the cycle is probably my favorite.
16. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett Read it at twelve and became a Pratchett fan for life, though in retrospect twelve was probably the best age to read it.
17. Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison
18. Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison
19. The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester I can count the number of antihero stories I like on the fingers of one hand. This is the pinkie.
20. Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany
21. Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey Dammit, I won't diss McCaffery; she was one of the major delights of my childhood, even if now I read her prose and flinch a bit. It may be fluff, but it's fluff with power.
22. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card This one, on the other hand, I think i was a bit old for when I read it. It reads like overly pretentious martyrdom to me. Well-written, but subtextually suspect.
24. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman Another mixed experience: really liked bits, but there were a lot of other bits that were uncomfortably dated.
25. Gateway, Frederik Pohl
26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling It's bubble gum, but hey, sometimes you need a little bubble gum. And anything that makes more kids read is good in my book.
27. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams Hee! Like Pratchett, I read it young, though these days I like Pratchett a lot more -- less bitter. Still. Adams is da man.
28. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
29. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
30. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin* Very. Good. Book. But LeGuin is an idol of mine; I can't be objective about her.
31. Little, Big, John Crowley I know I read this, and as an adult, but my only memory of it is a vague sensation of dreamlike things happening in a very big house. This often happens to me with Crowley, sadly.
32. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny I read it. It was okay, but I never got what all the fuss was about.
33. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick I had to look this up on Wikipedia to make sure I'd read it; all of Dick tends to blur into one massive paranoid drug-trip after a while. I have, though, and liked it.
34. Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement Not on my list. I have read Hal Clement. It's hard to think of a more boring way to spend an afternoon short of reading an actual physics paper.
35. More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon
36. The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith* Man. This was... some seriously beautiful stuff. Hard to say much about it more than that. Simply beautiful.
37. On the Beach, Nevil Shute Uh, I listened to "Walk Me Out In the Morning Dew". Does that count?
38. Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke
39. Ringworld, Larry Niven
40. Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys
41. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien Well, I fell asleep over it, anyways. Do yourself a favor and stick with the stuff Tolkien considered publishable.
42. Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut
43. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson* Hee. Far more my style than Gibson. Though Stephenson doesn't seem to know how to deal with endings, and hadn't yet hit on the ultimate solution as seen in his most recent series, eg, "just keep going, they'll buy it!"
44. Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner Sheep Look Up was enough terrifying goodness for me.
45. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester That antiheroes-on-one-hand thing? Yup. This is the thumb. Or maybe the index finger, who cares?
46. Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein Nice read, but I fail to see anything more striking than that in it.
47. Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock
48. The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks What? They were fun books. Not very original, but if stealing plot was the way for Brooks to escape the mind-numbing dullness of some of his later works, then so be it.
49. Timescape, Gregory Benford
50. To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip Jose Farmer
----
Twenty-nine out of fifty's not too bad. But man. So many books. So little time.
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 434
Comments: Woke up cranky and still made myself write. Mind over matter! Virtue over sloth! I don't have to like it, though.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: Must stop dogpiling gestures. The reader will get the idea even if I don't include the faint sideways tilt of her head as she twitched her fingers and raised an eyebrow while... BAD KAT!
Snips: Nothing good today.
Monday, November 20
The beginning of the World Fantasy Swag reviews:
The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
As a child, Locke Lamora stole from policemen, started a riot, and finally committed a crime so dire that it forced his master the Thiefmaker to sell him in the dead of night to the Eyeless Priest. Now, as an adult, Locke and his fellow Gentleman Bastards are in the middle of carrying out the greatest sting of his lifetime: robbing a nobleman... a nobleman who knows he's a thief. Now if only Locke can keep the city's crimelord from finding out he's violating the Secret Peace by robbing the aristocracy -- or getting married off to said crimelord's beautiful daughter. If only he can keep one step ahead of the Duke's dreaded Midnighters. If only he can keep clear of the Grey King who seems determined to wipe out the city's greatest criminals....
But this is Locke Lamora. And while the Eyeless Priest may have succeeded in teaching him how to lie his way out of trouble, he never managed to show him how to stay out of it.
Scott Lynch's first novel is an addictive mix of richly imagined fantasy book, swashbuckling adventure, and caper story. It's Robin Hood for the world-weary. It's an Errol Flynn movie for grownups. Locke and his fellow Gentleman Bastards are an endearing mixture of the cynical and the touchingly naive: a group of hardheaded scoundrels and liars who are also orphans, survivors, and brothers; a batch of shameless thieves who laugh at their victims but are endearingly confused about what to do with their ill-gotten gains. The other characters, the city, and for that matter the entire story exist in the same precarious balance. It's not that the book eschews questions of good and evil -- quite the contrary -- but it achieves a sense of gritty realism without succumbing to the pseudo-literary air of gloom, bitterness, and depression that so often goes along with it. It's real, but it's also fun.
It's rare for me to give a genuinely glowing review, but this book deserves it. Go. Read. Join me in hoping the sequel will be out soon. You won't regret it.
(In the interests of full disclosure: I met Scott Lynch at World Fantasy and liked him, and I've been reading his blog since the Writerbo post, which had a lot to do with our buying the book. It had nothing to do with me writing a good review of the book, or for that matter for Dan and I (after a shared reading of the prologue) nearly coming to blows over who got to read it first. And frankly we only settled the thing peaceably because it would have been such a shame to get blood on the book.)
----
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 524 words.
Comments: At this point in my writing career I've learned to seriously worldbuild ahead of time (that I not commit cardboard-cutout setting) and to outline (that I not forget to include important things -- like, say, a plot). And generally my world and my outline look all pretty and reasonable and realistic on paper. But it isn't until I start writing that I learn whether they'll work. Writing isn't science. It doesn't matter how well I put the body together. If the lightning don't strike, the bitch don't breathe.
Today... well, some of the subplots are definitely not breathing, and some others may require CPR, and there's still quite a few bits that I'm not sure whether I'm laying groundwork or merely spewing blather that I will have to cut on the rewrite. But a huge chunk of the main plot just sat up, took a look around, and started making snide commentary on the furniture. Today is the first concrete sign I've had that the book works.
It's a good feeling.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: I wrote a chunk of action, and then a chunk of conversation, and then another chunk of action, and then sat there for five minutes scratching my head over why they were all boring and the pacing felt wrong before I realized that, y'know, perhaps it would be better if I interspaced conversation with action. Because things do not have to happen in a linear manner. Slow on the uptake, me.
Snips: "Dammit, Gwen, run! I'll stay here and try to distract her."
Now she did look down, her expression amused. "Did you get hit on the head, or are you always afflicted with situational stupidity?"
The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
As a child, Locke Lamora stole from policemen, started a riot, and finally committed a crime so dire that it forced his master the Thiefmaker to sell him in the dead of night to the Eyeless Priest. Now, as an adult, Locke and his fellow Gentleman Bastards are in the middle of carrying out the greatest sting of his lifetime: robbing a nobleman... a nobleman who knows he's a thief. Now if only Locke can keep the city's crimelord from finding out he's violating the Secret Peace by robbing the aristocracy -- or getting married off to said crimelord's beautiful daughter. If only he can keep one step ahead of the Duke's dreaded Midnighters. If only he can keep clear of the Grey King who seems determined to wipe out the city's greatest criminals....
But this is Locke Lamora. And while the Eyeless Priest may have succeeded in teaching him how to lie his way out of trouble, he never managed to show him how to stay out of it.
Scott Lynch's first novel is an addictive mix of richly imagined fantasy book, swashbuckling adventure, and caper story. It's Robin Hood for the world-weary. It's an Errol Flynn movie for grownups. Locke and his fellow Gentleman Bastards are an endearing mixture of the cynical and the touchingly naive: a group of hardheaded scoundrels and liars who are also orphans, survivors, and brothers; a batch of shameless thieves who laugh at their victims but are endearingly confused about what to do with their ill-gotten gains. The other characters, the city, and for that matter the entire story exist in the same precarious balance. It's not that the book eschews questions of good and evil -- quite the contrary -- but it achieves a sense of gritty realism without succumbing to the pseudo-literary air of gloom, bitterness, and depression that so often goes along with it. It's real, but it's also fun.
It's rare for me to give a genuinely glowing review, but this book deserves it. Go. Read. Join me in hoping the sequel will be out soon. You won't regret it.
(In the interests of full disclosure: I met Scott Lynch at World Fantasy and liked him, and I've been reading his blog since the Writerbo post, which had a lot to do with our buying the book. It had nothing to do with me writing a good review of the book, or for that matter for Dan and I (after a shared reading of the prologue) nearly coming to blows over who got to read it first. And frankly we only settled the thing peaceably because it would have been such a shame to get blood on the book.)
----
Writing Progress:
Today's Progress: 524 words.
Comments: At this point in my writing career I've learned to seriously worldbuild ahead of time (that I not commit cardboard-cutout setting) and to outline (that I not forget to include important things -- like, say, a plot). And generally my world and my outline look all pretty and reasonable and realistic on paper. But it isn't until I start writing that I learn whether they'll work. Writing isn't science. It doesn't matter how well I put the body together. If the lightning don't strike, the bitch don't breathe.
Today... well, some of the subplots are definitely not breathing, and some others may require CPR, and there's still quite a few bits that I'm not sure whether I'm laying groundwork or merely spewing blather that I will have to cut on the rewrite. But a huge chunk of the main plot just sat up, took a look around, and started making snide commentary on the furniture. Today is the first concrete sign I've had that the book works.
It's a good feeling.
Crappy Writing Skill De Jour: I wrote a chunk of action, and then a chunk of conversation, and then another chunk of action, and then sat there for five minutes scratching my head over why they were all boring and the pacing felt wrong before I realized that, y'know, perhaps it would be better if I interspaced conversation with action. Because things do not have to happen in a linear manner. Slow on the uptake, me.
Snips: "Dammit, Gwen, run! I'll stay here and try to distract her."
Now she did look down, her expression amused. "Did you get hit on the head, or are you always afflicted with situational stupidity?"
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