The Buffet Is Open – a review of Grass by Sheri S. Tepper

Posted on January 29, 2014 by clubfredbaja

Grass by Sheri S TepperGrass by Sheri S. Tepper

It always comes down to something like this, doesn’t it. No matter what our consciences say, no matter how much doctrine we’ve been taught, no matter how many ethical considerations we’ve chewed and swallowed and tried to digest, it always comes down to us arming ourselves with weapons as deadly as we can manage and going out into combat…

Why I chose this book

I wanted to read “classic” science fiction by a female author I’d not encountered before. Sheri S. Tepper not only fit the bill, but is also known to write with a feminist slant, which appealed to me for this particular project.

What it’s about

The easiest answer would be “lots of stuff”, it’s just that kind of book. In short, however, Grass takes place in a distant future, when Terra (earth) has been ruined by overpopulation and the human populations of other colonized planets are threatened by a deadly plague. Marjorie Westriding and her family travel to Grass, the only world which seems immune to the plague, to try and find a cure for the disease.

The cover blurb

Generations ago, humans fled to the cosmic anomaly known as Grass. But before humanity arrived, another species had already claimed Grass for its own. It too had developed a culture……

Now a deadly plague is spreading across the stars, leaving no planet untouched, save for Grass. But the secret of the planet’s immunity hides a truth so shattering it could mean the end of life itself.

My thoughts

Where to begin? Grass is one of those books that I think scare off potential new readers of science fiction, it is also one of those books that sparked my love for the genre. I adore the mystery of science fiction. I love arriving on a new world and placing my trust in the author to guide me through all the strange sights, bizarre creatures, and foreign words. Tepper does just that, for which I want to hug her.

Yes, Grass is science fiction but it is also part horror, part mystery, and part cautionary tale. The prose is gorgeous and the settings are described so perfectly I felt as if I was there among the grasses. Here’s a small sample:

Grass. Ruby ridges, blood-coloured highlands, wine-shaded glades. Sapphire seas of grass with dark islands of grass bearing great plumy trees which are grass again. Interminable meadows of silver hay where the great grazing beasts move in slanted lines like mowing machines, leaving the stubble behind them to spring up again in trackless wildernesses of rippling argent.

This is also Big Idea Sci-fi personified. Tepper tackles everything from religion, to gender equality, to environmentalism, to race relations. Philosophical questions? How many would you like? This is the Las Vegas buffet of SF stories…and I gorged myself.

Ironically, the most common reviewer complaints about this book—it’s disjointed and tends to sprawl—are on my list of “Top 5 Reasons This Book Rocked”. I know common wisdom these days says that novels should focus on a minimal amount of POVs, contained to the main characters, with long passages (a chapter or longer) between changes. Why? Do the people in charge of How Books Should Be Written think I’m so stupid I cannot possibly keep up with rapidly shifting points of view? Or that too many viewpoint characters would confuse my tiny brain? I don’t know, but it was refreshing to read a novel that credited me with enough intelligence to “keep up”. Also, I don’t need every story I read to follow a straight line from beginning to end. I like a little sprawl. It’s the difference between deadheading on the freeway and taking the scenic road full of meandering turns and lots of photo-op stops—both get you where you’re going but one’s a lot more relaxing and fun.

My final big cheer for this book is its female protagonist Marjorie Westriding. (Best name ever, by the way). When Neil Gaiman talked about how people misunderstand the meaning of “strong women”, this character sprang immediately to my mind. In fiction, there are characters who “do” a lot of things we associate with strength—often fighting and killing—but then there are those characters whose strength comes from some deep reservoir inside. They possess a quiet, subtle strength. That is Marjorie.

Grass is a lush, immersive experience and well deserving of the term “classic”.

Will I read more by this author?

Definitely.

You should read this book if…

  • You like stories with depth and complexity.
  • Dune was good but just a bit too macho for you.
  • Your other favourite genre is mystery.
  • You’d rather take the scenic road than the freeway.
  • It’s time to give your brain a little workout.

Where to find Grass on The Zon: Grass

Up next: Dust by Elizabeth Bear

Posted in Book reviews, Entertainment, On Scribbling, Women's Issues | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

A Nomad’s Guide To Writing On The Road

Posted on January 28, 2014 by clubfredbaja

In my author bio, I refer to myself as pathologically nomadic. This is not an attempt to be cutesy, (the line about being a fishing goddess covers that). I have lost track of the number of times I’ve moved, but in the last decade alone I have lived in the Bahamas, Florida, Costa Rica, Mexico, the Cook Islands, and several locations in Canada, including Ucluelet. If there’s one skill I have perfected it’s asking where the restroom is in a foreign language, followed closely by how to write while on the move.

At this moment, I’m writing this post in a travel trailer, in Oceanside, California. A week ago I was in Joshua Tree National Park. Before that, Las Vegas. And in less than two weeks I’ll be pulling up stakes and heading to Baja, Mexico. Most writers can sympathize with the struggle to keep your butt in the chair but what if the chair is on an airplane, a bus, or the passenger seat of a Toyota Tundra?

I believe strongly that every writer has to find their own process but since it’s 8:19pm on a Sunday night, and the internet at this RV park is crappy, which means I can’t watch 30 Rock on Netflix or talk to my Breakfast Squad pals, I thought I’d send out a few tips that might help you keep scribbling while you’re traveling.

Warning: I am not an expert, I’m just a gal who can’t stay in one place. So, in no particular order, here are my tips for writing while traveling, …

1. Be honest with yourself

If this is your only two weeks of vacation for the entire year, and you’re going to the Wanna-Drinkee-Like-A-Fishee all inclusive resort in the south pacific, do you really think you’re going to get any writing done? The palm trees will inspire me! you say. Yes, they will inspire you to spend too much time getting intimate with your beach towel and you’ll probably end up with a second degree burn. There’s travel and then there’s vacation, which category will your trip fall into?

If you fill your head with the idea you’re going to spend your tropical vacation writing, then you’re setting yourself up for a hammock-load of guilt and self-loathing when it doesn’t happen. Without the expectations, however, any work you manage to crank out between snorkeling and siesta-ing will make you feel like a superstar. Remember, it’s okay to take time off, relax, recharge your batteries, embarrass yourself by trying to dance like the locals; we all need that sometimes.

Which leads me to the next tip…

2. Front end loading

When I know I’m going to a place where work is unlikely to happen (see also: Worldcon, I never got to bed before 3am while I was at), I’ll increase my writing work load in the weeks before I leave. Front end loading can be as simple as adding an extra hour of writing per day or, for the more extreme types/masochists, forgoing extras like lunch, sleeping, or bathing.

In the weeks leading up to World Fantasy con, this November, I expect to look and smell like Mel Gibson on a bender, but my trip will be guilt-free!

3. Repeat after me: There is no normal

When I hear writers talk about how they can only write at a mahogany desk, facing southwest, with a gardenia scented Yankee Candle burning six feet away, and a hot cup of fair trade, organic Cuban coffee they can reach without straightening their arm fully, I chuckle a little bit. Writing on the go means writing wherever, whenever, with whatever local insects may be buzzing and/or stinging you. Let go of the “I can only write if ________” mentality. Buh Bye.

My office while traveling in a trailer

My office dujour

In the Cook Islands, summers were so hot that just thinking about writing made me sweat. The only time it was cool enough to hunker over my laptop without danger of electrocution was between the hours of 1am and 4am…so guess who became a night owl? (Hint: it’s someone who’s writing this post).

Embrace the rawness of you and the words. What else do you really need? All the caveats and stipulations are merely the security blanket we knit out of our fear of failure. You’re a writer not Linus, for codsake. Learn to block out everything but you and the work.

Unless of course you run out of chocolate or gin. Then, throw a tantrum, this is acceptable.

4. Cultivate your inner drill sergeant

I once read this funny quote about how writers are working even when they’re staring out the window. Except the thing is that at some point there’s a line between “writer” and “person who stares out the window a lot”. Writing amid the chaos of travel (oh yes, expect chaos, lots and lots and lots of chaos) requires a black belt in self discipline. Start training now.

Discipline is like any other skill, enough practice and it becomes a habit. I am currently in southern California in January. The rest of the country is being polar vortexed, but just outside my trailer is sun, sand, surfers with well-defined abdominal muscles and…

What were we talking about again?

Oh, yes, discipline. The point is that travel is novelty and temptation. The sooner you learn to crack the whip on yourself in the comfort of your home, the easier it will be to stick to a writing schedule when men with oiled, tanned bodies are just a short walk away.

Hm.

I’ll be right back.

5. Plan, plan, plan, plan, plan and…plan

Spontaneity is wonderful. I love spontaneity! Look, I just decided to put in that exclamation point at the last minute! And another one! Wacky! But if you want to write while you travel, take some time to figure out the logistics.

When would be the best times in your schedule to write? If you’ll need a reliable internet connection, will that be available? (Don’t count on this anywhere except big hotels in major cities—notice I am not watching 30 Rock on Netflix right now). Will you have privacy or will there be a quiet place to work? What will you be writing on? Will you need power and, if so, will it be readily available? What type of writing would you find easiest while you’re traveling—editing, outlining, researching, first draft?

The more prepared you are before you leave, the more efficient you’ll be when you’re stuck in some backwoods airport for ten hours because your flight was cancelled when your plane hit a moose on the runway.

6. State your intentions and be shamelessly selfish

I seldom travel alone. My long-suffering, saintly spouse is most often my road buddy. And while he is now well-versed in the particular challenges of traveling with a writer (aka “person who ignores him at regular intervals”), this didn’t happen overnight. Imagine my shock when he did not simply read my mind and know that I needed alone-time to write on our earlier adventures. And after I made it so clear with my facial expressions!

When you travel with other people, taking time away to write can feel like a supremely selfish act, especially if your travel partner is your partner-partner. Ask yourself: Do I want this to be a job or a hobby? If the answer is job, treat it like one. If you were running your own business while traveling, no one would question your need for work time. Hammer that mentality into your cranium. Be selfish. Go on, you have my official permission.*

*valid in all Canadian provinces and US states except Alaska and Quebec.

But make sure your travel partner(s) knows your intentions before you depart. Be as specific as possible. “On this trip, I will need to spend at least ______ (time) writing and I will require _______ (ounces) of gin while I do so.”

Stating your intentions clearly and out loud also has the unexpected side effect of solidifying them in your own mind. Oh, and hearing your travel partner say, “Weren’t you going to write today?” makes it a whole lot more difficult to shrug off your work. Peer pressure can be your friend.

7. Get one of these…

Lap desk

You’ll always have a desk.

8. And some of these…

ear plugs for writers

Instant privacy.

9. Don’t forget this…

external hard drive

Just in case the same crappy internet that won’t let you watch 30 Rock also won’t let you get online to save your work in the cloud.

10. Pack your sleep aid(s) of choice

Long flights, time changes, drastic temperature fluctuations, and all kinds of disruptions to your routine can run you down, make you sick, and sabotage your writing goals. Over the years, I’ve found my best defense is sound sleep and lots of it. This isn’t always possible through sheer will power alone. These are my sleep-enhancement tools:

  • earplugs
  • eyeshades
  • travel pillow
  • melatonin – natural sleep aid that won’t leave you drowsy the next day.
  • Nytol, etc – when melatonin just won’t cut it.
  • gin – don’t judge me!

I hope these help you with your travel and writing plans. Please feel free to share your own ideas in the comments section. And now, since the internet has resumed service (and my glass of gin is empty), I’ll say goodbye, bon voyage, and happy scribbling.

Posted in On Scribbling, Travel | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Great Expectations – a review of The Blind Pig by Elizabeth Dougherty

Posted on January 24, 2014 by clubfredbaja

The Blind PigThe Blind Pig by Elizabeth Dougherty

Why I chose this book

As an author-publisher, I wanted to have at least one indie-published book on my list. I decided to choose an author and title I had never heard of, to give someone the break I would want for myself. In my search, I came across a “best of 2013” list on Indie Reads. The Blind Pig by science writer and software engineer Elizabeth Dougherty was on that list and I was intrigued by the description. The book fulfilled my project’s criteria and I figured if it was on the same list as Hugh Howey’s latest it had to be good.

What it’s about

The Blind Pig is a hard science fiction thriller about engineered food and nutrition, and the dangers thereof.

The cover blurb

Journalist Angela Anselm investigates a suspicious death in a late 21st century speakeasy, where the moonshine of the times is garlic mash rather than sour mash. She uncovers a conspiracy that could topple the NArc, the government system that keeps everybody healthy with its prescribed, engineered nutrition. How much will she risk to expose the truth?

My thoughts

This book was the half way point in my ten book project and I really wanted to like it. No, I REALLY, REALLY, REEEEAAAAALLLY wanted to like it. I wanted this to be the book I could use against arguments that women couldn’t write hard SF AND arguments that indie published books were sub-standard. I say this to make it clear that I began this read as a very forgiving (and hopeful) reader.

I put the book aside less than a quarter of the way in.

I considered not even writing a review. Hey, there are lots of female-authored, indie published, SF/F books out there, I could just find a replacement and no one would be the wiser. Then that annoying conscience of mine started nagging me to be honest.

Stupid conscience.

Here’s the deal: This isn’t a terrible book. Technically, the writing is fine. It’s not one of those crapfests of bad spelling and grammar that make so many people think amateur when they think of indie books. The world building was excellent, the science (from what I read), seemed sound and plausible, and the premise was interesting. What this book needed was a really good substantive editor, or a really good critique group, or a bunch of really good beta readers—not just good, I might add, but objective and honest.

What’s missing from this story is compelling characters and significant stakes. A novel doesn’t need to open with EXPLOSION! CAR CHASE! TERRORIST ATTACK! but it does need to open with at least one character I can invest in, a character I care enough about that I will want to keep turning pages, a character with something important to lose. This character doesn’t need to be the hero, either. The book I read immediately after I put down The Blind Pig opened with its focus on a minor character the reader would not see again until nearly the end of the story, but that character and her situation gripped me instantly and I spent several hundred pages eager to find out what had happened to her.

I will overlook a long list of literary sins if I have at least one character I care about. Conversely, I will occasionally overlook a lack of compelling characters if the prose is mind-numbingly spectacular. Unfortunately, if the author gives me neither by at least the third chapter I’m probably going to walk away.

It hurt to close this book so early, mostly because I could see the potential in it. If the protagonist’s personal stakes had been higher, if the author had centered me more in the moment and had not done so much telling, if the emotional content and lives of the characters had been given as much weight as the science and the world building, if… if… if…

This isn’t even a case of “just not my cup of tea”. The science of food is a subject I feel strongly about and I suspect that I share many of Dougherty’s opinions on the dangers of engineered nutrition. Had this been a work of non-fiction I probably would have gone along for the ride.

So, my chance to rave about and promote a fellow indie author will have to wait. Le sigh. I have decided not to rate this book on Goodreads or Amazon (see, I’m not a complete meanie), and I hope if the author should happen upon this review she’ll understand that I am not slamming her as a writer but offering unbiased feedback.

Will I read more by this author?

Possibly. I think Doughtery has the skill to pen a good novel, so I’ll keep an eye on her and my fingers crossed. My guess is she fell into the trap(s) too many indie authors fall into–publishing her first manuscript instead of honing her craft and publishing a good manuscript and/or not passing the manuscript through the hands of a skilled editor before publishing.

You should read this novel if…

Without having finished the entire novel, I don’t feel comfortable making recommendations but this is definitely a read that will be best enjoyed by those more interested in the science than the story.

Where to find The Blind Pig on the Zon: The Blind Pig

Up next: Grass by Sherri S. Tepper

Posted in Book reviews, On Scribbling, Women's Issues | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

That Moment You Realize You’re the Bad Guy in the Story

Posted on January 23, 2014 by clubfredbaja

I used to have these fantasies about confronting the people in my past I’d felt had done me wrong. Those girls in junior high who showed up at the aerobics class my friend and I were teaching, just to mock us. The boy who cheated on me and broke my heart. The boss who called me a “useless bimbo” behind my back. And so on.

There’s a certain kind of powerless rage that comes from feeling you are a good person who has been mistreated. We’re the good guys, the underdogs, the victims. Over time, I have outgrown that mentality. It was liberating to shed that victim skin and I believed, naively perhaps, that my past and I had made peace.

Then I arrived in California and came to face to face with a woman who, over ten years ago, was one of the most mean-spirited bullies I have ever known.

To appreciate just how cold this person was, let me take you back to the days when I was an up-and-coming stunt performer in Vancouver.

The stunt business was not for the faint of heart, in all possible ways, and Vancouver might have been (and may still be), one of the toughest places to break into that world. All professional stunt performers are gutsy and tough, but Vancouver stunt people were also known for a high level of skill in many disciplines. Entering the scene with only a black belt in Karate, some dance training, and relative proficiency in a few other sports, I was woefully under-skilled. I was a nerd who’d lucked into a dream job and I had to get good fast.

Really fast.

You see, Vancouver stuntmen may have had high standards, but the stuntwomen? Oh, my friends, that was another level. You did not tread lightly into the domain of powerhouses Melissa Stubbs, Trish Schill, Marny Eng, and their ilk. There weren’t a lot of stuntwomen in Vancouver back then, but they were damn good at what they did, they were a tight group, and they had no time for wannabes.

I admired and feared those women. I wanted to be as good as they were. I longed for their respect. When Prez and I started dating, I panicked. I was terrified that they would mistake my genuine affection for an experienced, successful stuntman as an attempt to get in the club through the back door. Toronto, Los Angeles, those stunt communities were rife with nepotism, or at least that was the word on the street, and the Vancouver women went out of their way to make sure that didn’t happen in their ’hood.  I witnessed more than one newbie—hired by a male stunt coordinator solely because he wanted to get into her pants—given a shoulder so cold it could freeze the sun.

In a few short years, I not only learned to ride a jetski in the surf, keep up with Prez on a dirtbike, slide my stunt car like James Rockford, and a host of other skills, I’d also made myself stone hard. I shucked empathy, softness, and kindness around other stunt people. I became the person I needed to be to do the job I wanted to do, and it paid off. Little by little, I got bigger, better gags on bigger, better shows. I was so close I could taste it.

Enter JS and BB. The former was a good buddy of Prez’s. They’d met doing stunts years earlier and had formed an instant friendship. The latter, BB, was his girlfriend and also a stunt performer/actress.

I didn’t know what to make of BB, she was the opposite of every stuntwoman I knew. Bubbly, effervescent, and overtly feminine, she represented everything I had conditioned myself not to be. On top of that, she was nice. I mean crazy nice. Crazy, giggly, unbelievably nice. It couldn’t be real. She was a unicorn. People like her did not exist in our business. It had to be an act. She had to have an agenda. A gold digger? Sleeping her way into a job? I didn’t know what her game was but I didn’t trust her.

It never occurred to me to give BB the benefit of the doubt, to take her at face value. In fact, had she just been another stuntwoman, I may have shunned her completely. Because she was JS’s girl, and JS was Prez’s good buddy, I tried to be friendly. But, honestly, I didn’t try very hard.

In my mind, I was completely justified. I was the good guy. I was a professional stuntwoman aiming for the A list, I had standards to uphold. And no matter how often or how hard she tried to befriend me, I kept my distance from BB. No matter how kind and nice and friendly she was, I refused to take the bait. And when Prez and I left the business, and the country, in 2003 I thought I would probably never see her again.

And I didn’t…until a few days ago.

JS, now living in the LA area and working as a stunt coordinator for some of the biggest names in Hollywood, gave Prez some work last year. It was a wonderful opportunity, for which Prez was very grateful, and he was equally happy to reconnect with his friend. So, since we were in the LA area with time to kill, it seemed only natural we should get together.

BB and JS are now married and living happily. They have a beautiful home, into which we were welcomed with open arms. BB, I saw, had not changed. She was just as full of giggly delight as I remembered. No, the one who had changed was me. For once, I actually dropped my guard and took the time to get to know her without my veil of prejudice. What I learned surprised me.

This woman I had so quickly judged as so much shallow fluff is actually smart, funny, determined, beautiful, and strong. She survived a childhood that would have turned most people into broken, bitter, hollow shells, and she did so without losing her sense of joy and wonder. That bubbly exterior is no act; she’s one of those rare heart-on-the-sleeve souls.

I realized what a huge mistake I had made all those years ago. I felt like a rat. I felt like the dirt beneath a rat. I felt like whatever is beneath the dirt beneath a rat. Then, it got worse.

On a long walk together, BB told me about the trouble she had gone through trying to work as a stuntwoman back east. She didn’t need to tell me how the other stunt people had hurt her, the pain of the memories were all over her always-guileless face. I wanted to lie to myself, convince myself that I had not contributed to her suffering, but I knew I had. Forced to look unflinchingly at my past self, I came face to face with one of the most mean-spirited bullies I had ever known: me. I was the bad guy in this story. Worse than many of the others, not because of my behaviour but because BB had actually liked me, been inspired by me, could recite pieces of advice I had offered her, verbatim, over a decade past.

What would it have cost me to return her friendship all those years ago? Nothing. Did it matter that she wasn’t exactly like me, that she didn’t do all the things I did? No. How would my career or reputation have suffered if I had simply been kind? Not at all.

I was the bad guy. Ouch.

Now what? Well, time travel has yet to be invented, which means I don’t get a do-over, so…

BB, this is my public apology. I was the villain; you were the kind-hearted hero who deserved to be treated much better than I treated you. I hope you’ll keep being who you are and will never let assholes like me change you. The world does not need more sarcasm and cynicism (which I have in spades), it needs more of the openness and love that you offer so freely. I’m sorry for every second that I made you feel unwelcome or unappreciated. I was a dummy, more concerned with fitting in than with being a decent human being. It was me who should have been asking you for advice; it was your respect I should have tried to be worthy of. You were the good guy in this story; you’ve earned your happy ending. I hope that you can forgive me. I hope that I will have a second chance to be the friend I should have been a long time ago.

Finally, thank you for the hospitality, generosity, and kindness you showed us during our visit. It was wonderful to see how your perseverance has paid off, and the life you and JS have built together. You should both take a moment to pat yourselves firmly on the back.

In the ten-plus years since I left the stunt world, I have learned a lot of hard lessons, but this one may be the most important. I know it is one I will never forget…

Be kind whenver possibleUntil next time, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, & lovin’ life!

The Princess

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The Start of a Beautiful Obsession – a review of Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

Posted on January 15, 2014 by clubfredbaja

Shards of Honor Lois McMaster BujoldShards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

The real unforgivable acts are committed by calm men in beautiful green silk rooms, who deal death wholesale, by the shipload, without lust, without anger, or desire, or any redeeming emotion to excuse them but cold fear of some pretended future.

But the crimes they hope to prevent in that future are imaginary. The ones they commit in the present – they are real.

Why I chose this book

While it’s true I wanted to branch out in this little project of mine and discover spec fiction sub-genres I ordinarily wouldn’t read, I also wanted to find female authors who write the kinds of stories that fit me like my favourite pajamas. The blurb for this book fit that description to a T. Adventure, romance, politics, things exploding, a kick ass female protagonist? Sign me up!

What it’s about

Shards of Honor is the first in the Vorkosigan Saga, an expansive space opera spanning over 25 novels and short stories, written by Lois McMaster Bujold. The trouble begins when Cordelia Naismith, leader of a survey team from a peaceful planet, is captured by Aral Vorkosigan–a man who is known to her people as “The Butcher of Komarr”–from the very warlike planet Barrayar. And the fun begins when the lines between enemy and friend begin to blur, and Cordelia finds herself in the middle of Barrayan power struggles and politics.

The Cover Blurb

The start of the Vorkosigan Saga. It was the wrong war, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons, with a secret agenda. Captain Cordelia Naismith of the Betan Expeditionary Force is captured by her enemy, Lord Vorkosigan of Barrayar.

My Thoughts

There is simply not enough to squee to describe how much I loved this book. Had I not already committed to this reading project I would now be three or four books into the series. I am, in a word, hooked.

I am a lover of characters. Give me compelling characters and I will overlook a multitude of literary sins. Give me compelling characters AND a tight plot, perfect pacing, thrilling action, Machiavellian politics, philosophical quandaries, electric romance, and killer flying vampire jellyfish? Oh baby, I’m a fan for life! Bujold does all that and more (no, I wasn’t kidding about the jellyfish).

Shards of Honor perfectly straddles that line between good old Raiders of the Lost Ark style adventure and the kind of ethical and moral conflicts that real life war has in spades. Equally impressive was the romance between Cordelia and Aral. These are two intelligent, strong-willed individuals and the author respects that. Despite an obvious initial attraction, neither character is ready to simply abandon their people, their principles, or their obligations for a little snogging. Kudos to Bujold for a masterful love story!

I could ramble for pages about everything that inspired reader love and author envy in this book but I want you to read it and I don’t want to spoil even one paragraph for you. (Let me know when you’re finished and we’ll talk.)

Finally, one of the most unexpected side benefits of this read was that I finally have a book to point to when asked what other novels Warpworld is similar to. No, I don’t put our tome in the same ranks as Shards of Honor, and we’re technically not space opera, but there are enough similarities in plot, character, and structure that I feel comfortable making the comparison. (Much better than my usual answer: “Umm, kind of like Dune, but not really. Sort of Hunger Games-ish, but not that either. Ummmm…”)

Will I read more by this author?

Are you kidding me?! (That’s a YES, by the way).

You should read this book if…

  • The words “space opera” make you want to drop whatever you’re doing and start reading.
  • You long for an adventure story with a solid dose of brainyness.
  • You’ve ever wondered how horrific a killer flying vampire jellyfish would be.
  • Stories with compelling characters, especially gutsy, clever, female protagonists are your thing.
  • You trust me and my excellent taste!

Where to find Shards of Honor on The Zon: Shards of honor

Up next: The Blind Pig by Elizabeth Dougherty

Posted in Book reviews, Entertainment, On Scribbling, Warpworld | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Viking Ghosts, eh? – a review of Spirits Rising by Krista D. Ball

Posted on January 7, 2014 by clubfredbaja

Spirits Rising by Krista D. BallSpirits Rising by Krista D. Ball

When a thundering horde of drunken Vikings rush a person, it’s only natural to flinch.

Why I chose this book

This was a perfect marriage of two desires. I wanted to include at least one female Canadian author on my reading list and I wanted to spend part of my hiatus reading works by my fellow SF Canada members. The answer: Canadian Speculative fiction author Krista D. Ball.

What it’s about

Spirits Rising is a novella, the first in the Spirit Caller Series. Set in Newfoundland, the story centers on Rachel Mills, a young woman who is sensitive to the presence of “others”. That is to say, the paranormal. A talent that comes in handy when hordes of Viking and native ghosts are accidentally unleashed in her small town.

The cover blurb

Rachel Mills has one wish in life: for the spirit world to shut up and leave her alone. She thought her move to a remote fishing village in Northern Newfoundland would help.

Population: Twenty. What could go wrong?

Instead of peace, however, she relocates to a land of superstition, the air alive with the presence of others.

When a local teenager accidentally summons the spirits of the area, including those from a thousand-year-old Viking settlement, all supernatural breaks loose. As the spirits stalk her and each other, Rachel finds herself in over her head. With the help of Mrs. Saunders, her 93-year-old neighbour, Rachel has to put aside her own prejudices long enough to send the spirits back to rest, or risk being caught in the midst of a spirit war.

My thoughts

I can’t think of a more perfect setting for a tale of the paranormal than the isolated and culturally distinct province of Newfoundland. This is a quirky, fun story, as much about the eccentricities of island life as its ghostly inhabitants.

Rachel is a hero I can relate to, not for her paranormal abilities but for her struggles trying to fit in as an outsider in a remote, close-knit community. (Something I’ve had to do several times in my own life). Ball does a splendid job of capturing the highs and lows of small town life, and Rachel’s unique challenge of possessing powers the very religious folks of this tiny fishing village consider witchcraft.

The humour was the best part of the story for me. The elderly Mrs. Saunders, who is fond of a “nip” of gin now and then, even in her latte, was my favourite character, followed closely by the hapless teen, Manny O’Toole, who accidentally summons armies of the undead. Yet I never felt as if the Newfoundland people and their culture (so often targets of jokes in Canada), were being mocked or exploited.

Overall, a light, fun, quick read, I found pleasantly non-cliché.

Will I read more by this author?

Yes by!

You should read this book if…

  • You would like to experience a little bit of Newfoundland…and Viking ghosts!
  • You enjoy your paranormal stories with a dash of humour…and Viking ghosts!
  • A 77 page novella fits right in with your busy schedule.

Where to find Spirits Rising on The Zon: Spirits Rising

Up Next: Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

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Do You Deserve a Break Today?

Posted on January 2, 2014 by clubfredbaja

Since stepping out of the writing cave and hitting the open road almost a month ago, I’ve been experiencing sensory overload. There is so much I want to rant talk about. So much, in fact, that it was hard to choose a single topic for this Coconut Chronicle instead of unleashing a stream-of-consciousness babble on you that looks something like…

Why can’t semi truck drivers put their plastic bottles of pee in the garbage instead of tossing them out the window as they drive? Montana is cold in the winter! People need to get off their cell phones while driving in a blizzard. Denny’s cheeseburgers have improved significantly. Utah has casinos?

Now imagine twenty-five paragraphs of that.

Lucky for you, dearest Nutters, there is one thought that keeps returning to smack me in the face. That is: What do we deserve? General ‘we’. As in, ‘We, the people’. What do we, particularly in North America, Land of Entitlement, deserve?

You see, I’ve noticed a shift. My parents’ generation, and those before them, hoped, dreamed, wanted, and wished. My generation and beyond? We expect. Why?

I had a conversation with author and former speech writer Matt Hughes this past May in which we discussed advertising. Specifically, when ads made the leap from extolling the benefits of a product to convincing the consumer that they “deserved” a product. Rotten Ronnie’s may have lead the charge with their iconic “You deserve a break today!” but they are far from the only company who sent out (and continues to send out) that message.

We bought it. Oh, baby, did we buy it! We bought it and over a billion greasy, disgusting hamburgers because, hey, we deserve it! Stay at home and make real food that involves taking things out of the fridge, and chopping, and cooking with heat, and then putting dirty dishes in a dishwasher? Do we look like suckers? WE DESERVE FOOD THAT APPEARS IN 30 SECONDS, IN CONTAINERS WE CAN TOSS IN THE GARBAGE!

We deserve it.

You deserve itOnce we bought into that idea, the idea that we deserved things, we were hooked. We no longer wanted a big, flatscreen TV, we deserved a big, flatscreen TV.

On the road, the affects of this mentality are obvious. Between Nelson, BC and Palm Desert, California, every city of any size was a shrine to consumerism, to vanity, to greed. Everywhere I looked I saw retail megaplexes, billboards for cosmetic surgery, lawyers, casinos, and the glow of giant golden arches. Mile after endless mile of stuff we should have because we deserve to have stuff!

There were smaller, more personal examples, as well. In a coffee shop in Palm Desert I eavesdropped on a conversation between three well-dressed women. They were discussing a local restaurant and loudly decrying its abysmal lack of customer service. After all, one of the women had dropped her napkin and the waiter didn’t even pick it up. HE DIDN’T EVEN PICK IT UP! What has this world come to? What if she had bent over to pick it up herself and the act of bending over had triggered a rare genetic mutation that put her into a coma? She should sue!

Suing is the logical course of action for those who do not get what they deserve. Coincidentally, one of our friends on this trip was actually at the tail end of a frivolous lawsuit brought about for exactly this kind of crazy entitlement mentality. She was on the non-crazy side. (The non-crazy side won this time. Yay sanity!)

This idea of ‘deserving’ is powerful voodoo. It taints our outlook on life, it creates artificial suffering. We can accept not getting what we want, even if we’re disappointed. Not getting what we deserve, what we are entitled to, however, damages our self esteem and makes us feel wronged.

I’m as guilty as everyone else. I’m a child of the You Deserve a Break Today generation. I catch myself thinking that I deserve things all that time. Usually these things are made of chocolate or have delicious frosting on them, but sometimes my sense of entitlement also spreads to nonessential items.

This has all started me wondering what we really do deserve.

In the broadest philosophical sense, humans, as a species, don’t deserve anything. Good or bad. We exist. Things happen to us. Good things are nice and bad things are awful, and it’s as random as that.

Narrowing my vision, and considering us not just as animated bits of flesh, I think there are some things that humans do deserve. The basics, of course: food, water, shelter, clothing. But beyond that I think we can all agree that we shouldn’t be murdering, torturing, enslaving, or raping each other, that we function better if we have some degree of safety from and respect for each other. We deserve that. Going a little further, in wealthy nations (Canada and the US, for example), all citizens deserve a basic standard of living—decent health care, affordable housing, food that provides real nutrition, good education, etc. Hey, the richest people only get that way with the help of those who either build or buy their widgets.

Going even further, we deserve to be treated as equals, regardless of age, race, gender, or sexual orientation.

And that’s where my list of things we deserve ends. Maybe I’m missing something but past that point I think we cross into “want” territory. You could also argue that there is a difference between things we need and things we deserve, and I wouldn’t disagree.

The root of all this ranting is not a desire to wag my finger and make everyone feel guilty, but a wish for more genuine happiness and fulfillment. Shedding feelings of entitlement opens us up to gratitude and protects us from the inevitable sense of inadequacy that hits when we don’t get what we want. (Let’s face it, there will be lots of times in our lives when we don’t get what we want). Furthermore, dropping the “I deserve” mentality liberates us from the corporations who created this insane fantasy in the first place.

Am I wrong? What do we deserve? And what should we do if we don’t get it?

Also, I still want to know why truckers can’t throw their pee bottles in the garbage. I deserve to know that.

Until next time, I hope 2014 finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

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Up With Worms! – a review of Parasite by Mira Grant

Posted on December 30, 2013 by clubfredbaja

Parasite by Mira GrantParasite by Mira Grant

Fooling laymen with science is sometimes so easy it should be criminal.

Why I chose this book

One of the complaints I hear and read frequently about female spec fiction authors is that they can’t write hard science fiction. Or, in the words of the philosopher Barbie, “Math is hard! Let’s go shopping!” I wanted at least one book on my list to be rooted in hard science as evidence against this ridiculous and insulting notion. It was either that or a lot of non-stop eye rolling.

What it’s about

Parasite by Mira Grant is the first book in what I believe is going to be a series (not sure how many there will be, this one was published in October 2013). It’s a hard sci-fi thriller about a biotech “miracle” that goes horribly awry.

The cover blurb

A decade in the future, humanity thrives in the absence of sickness and disease.

We owe our good health to a humble parasite – a genetically engineered tapeworm developed by the pioneering SymboGen Corporation. When implanted, the tapeworm protects us from illness, boosts our immune system – even secretes designer drugs. It’s been successful beyond the scientists’ wildest dreams. Now, years on, almost every human being has a SymboGen tapeworm living within them.

But these parasites are getting restless. They want their own lives…

My thoughts

I think it’s safe to say that no one except those who study them actually “like” tapeworms but having spent five years as a veterinary assistant I have a special loathing for the little bastards. That Mira Grant could actually stir my sympathy for these creatures should tell you just how well written this story is.

Parasite is told from the perspective of Sally, (now Sal), six years after waking from a coma, with no memory of her former life. Under the control of both her parents (named her legal guardians because of her medical condition), and SymboGen (the biotech corporation responsible for the genetically modified tapeworm that saved her life), in many ways Sal is a child in an adult body. This also means that when things start going wrong—and boy do they go wrong—Sal lacks the freedom to make her own choices.

This was another book I burned through in record time thanks to snappy dialogue, an intriguing premise, a nice balance of action and thought, and enough twists to keep me on my toes. The science was fascinating and never slowed down the story.

Negative reviews mentioned that Parasite was too similar to (or not as good as) Grant’s Newsflesh Trilogy and that the Big Twist at the end was too obvious. Well, I haven’t read the other books, so I can’t comment on that but I can confirm that I did correctly guess the Big Twist before the end. And so what? The story didn’t hinge solely on that secret and the revelation only leaves the reader with more questions…hopefully to be answered in the next book.

My only nitpick would be that Sal gets weepy a bit too often for my liking. Not enough to make me stop reading or to take away from my enjoyment of the story, but enough to make me want to give her a good shaking. (Weepy heroines are kind of a pet peeve of mine). Thankfully, she pulls it together as the story progresses and even uses her waterworks tendency to pull a fast one on the villain.

Parasite kept me squirming from start to finish. Best of all, this book is yet more proof that not only can women write hard science fiction but also that they can write it damned well!

Will I read more by this author?

Yes. I’ll be checking out the Newsflesh trilogy since I’ve read so many words of praise about it.

You should read this book if…

  • You enjoy hard sci-fi, thrillers, horror, and/or biotech.
  • You have ever wondered, “What would happen if a tapeworm made it into my brain?”
  • You’re okay with sleeping with the lights on.
  • You like books that leave you with questions.

Here’s where to get it on The Zon: Parasite

Next up: Spirits Rising by Krista D. Ball

 

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Shades of Awesomeness – a review of Shades of Milk and Honey

Posted on December 23, 2013 by clubfredbaja

Today I finished the second book of my 10 Speculative Fiction Books by Female Authors project. (I really need a snappier name for this project.) As I mentioned in my last post, one of my goals was to choose books that fell outside of my usual reading comfort zone.

This leads me to my review of the first book on my list…

Shades of Milk and HoneyShades of Milk and Honey by Mary Robinette Kowal

One must not put trust in novelists, Beth; they create worlds to fit their own needs and drive their characters mad in doing it.

Why I chose this book

Ordinarily, the title and cover of this book would have been enough to send me skipping past. Why? It looks and sounds “girlie” and any description with the word “regency” in it makes me cringe. Sorry, but that’s the unpleasant truth. I went ahead and gave it a try because a) I was specifically looking for something out of my comfort zone and b) I know a little bit about the author—I had the pleasure of meeting Mary Robinette Kowal (very briefly) at Worldcon, several of my Worldcon pals raved about how incredible she and her books are, and I have listened to her on my new favourite podcast, Writing Excuses.

What it’s about

Shades of Milk and Honey is the first book in the Glamourist Histories series and is classified on Amazon as Regency Fantasy. Think Pride and Prejudice with magic (glamour).

The cover blurb

Shades of Milk and Honey is an intimate portrait of Jane Ellsworth, a woman ahead of her time in a world where the manipulation of glamour is considered an essential skill for a lady of quality. But despite the prevalence of magic in everyday life, other aspects of Dorchester’s society are not that different: Jane and her sister Melody’s lives still revolve around vying for the attentions of eligible men.

Jane resists this fate, and rightly so: while her skill with glamour is remarkable, it is her sister who is fair of face, and therefore wins the lion’s share of the attention. At the ripe old age of twenty-eight, Jane has resigned herself to being invisible forever. But when her family’s honor is threatened, she finds that she must push her skills to the limit in order to set things right–and, in the process, accidentally wanders into a love story of her own.

My thoughts

I should make myself write “I will not be afraid of reading regency fantasy ever again” one thousand times. Before the end of the first chapter, I began to wonder why I hadn’t sought out this genre a long time ago. Sure, it helps that Kowal’s writing flows seamlessly, creating that delicious “must read one more chapter…” feeling, but since I count Pride and Prejudice and the Harry Potter series among my most beloved books, wouldn’t regency and fantasy be the best of both worlds?

Shades of Milk and Honey was just that. A literary Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup that mashes together two different, but extremely tasty, genres perfectly.

This book has no shortage of glowing reviews on Goodreads, but I always like to skim the 1-3 star reviews to see what readers didn’t like about a story. Here, the central complaint seems to be that the book is not “deep” enough or that it presents itself as Austenesque but lacks the biting social commentary of the works that inspired it. This wasn’t a problem for me. I enjoyed the characters, I enjoyed the system of magic, I enjoyed the world, and the Austen flavour was like sprinkles on an already-tasty cupcake.

(Yes, I realize I’m talking about food a lot here).

In the first few chapters, I thought I was going to get a magic-infused retelling of Pride and Prejudice,  but that didn’t happen and I’m glad. Kowal may have drawn her inspiration from Jane Austen, but the story is very much her own.

I zipped through this novel in two days and every moment spent with Jane Ellsworth, in her world, was an absolute pleasure!

Will I read more by this author?

Oh, yes. Not only was this book the perfect kick-off to my project but also I have been assured that the series only gets better.

You should read this book if…

  • You’ve read Pride and Prejudice, (or any Austen novel), and liked it.
  • You enjoy stories with magic but aren’t so keen on the dark, gritty, blood-and-guts type of stuff.
  • You are a historical fiction fan with a leaning toward romance.
  • You want a light, fun story to take you away from it all for a while.

Here’s where to get it on The Zon: Shades of Milk and Honey

Up next: Parasite by Mira Grant

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A Little Less Conversation

Posted on December 19, 2013 by clubfredbaja

Less talk more action for gender equalityTalk is cheap.

I’m not sure who first coined that phrase but it’s a good one. It is also, sadly, a phrase I recently realized applied all too well to me.

I’ve ranted and raved, both in the world of pixels and the world of flesh and bone, about the need for respect, equality, and equity when it comes to women. On my blogs, I’ve written about the need for unity among my gender and—on a much lighter note—about the women of character who have inspired me. On Twitter and Facebook, I post “Yay women!” stuff on a regular basis, and my real life friends can attest to my xx chromosome cheerleading.

Of particular interest to me is the representation and treatment of women within the world of science fiction and fantasy. This is a place where both the real and fictional ladies often get the short end of the stick—be that stick wand, lightsaber, or pen. I have argued for the need for gender equality in this realm. Argued! USING WORDS AND EVERYTHING!

Then I realized something troubling.

I looked at my reading list from the past few years.

Were there women authors on that list? Yes, there were. Female writers of general, literary, and some genre fiction were well represented. But in speculative fiction? Science fiction, fantasy, horror, and their many sub-genres?

*insert image of the author looking very sheepish here*

For all my talk, the overwhelming majority of SF/F books I read are written by male authors.

Watch and be amazed as I resist the urge to trot out excuses for this. There is no excuse worth trotting. What do I, as an author of speculative fiction, want most—someone shouting from the rooftops about the awesomeness of female SF/F authors or someone actually forking over cash to buy and read the words I’ve sweated over?

It is time to put my money where my big fat flapping talk hole is.

I have purchased ten books, all speculative fiction (science fiction, fantasy, horror, and sub-genres thereof), written by female authors. I chose a mix of old and young, known and unknown, indie and traditionally published, established and up-and-coming, local (i.e. Canuck) and foreign authors. The stories range from Austenesque fantasy to military sci-fi. I also chose books I may not ordinarily have considered, to force myself out of my comfort zone.

I am not only going to read these books but I am going to take the time to rate and/or review them on Goodreads, Amazon, and on my blogs. I will share my thoughts on these books on social media and recommend them to real life friends who I think would enjoy them.

Men, I am not shunning you. I have male-authored books on my to-read list, but the gals get priority for a change.

But wait, there’s more.

The final part of this little project of mine is a challenge to you, dearest Nutters. Make the next book you buy a female-authored book. That’s it. One book. One measly little volume of scribbles. Slightly more costly than a latte but cheaper than a night at the movies!

Oh, you also have to read the book. That’s part of the deal.

Aaaaaaaaand you could always write a review, if you were that kind of a super extra amazing person. (I know you are!) Authors love reviews. It is our crack.

You can also post a comment here to talk about your fave female scibblers. Links are most welcome.

Less talk, more action is not just a good idea for reading lists, either. When it comes to equality, verbal support is wonderful but it’s our actions that bring meaningful change. Spread the good word, by all means, but make sure you’ve got some deeds to go with those words.

Happy holidays to you all, no matter what holiday you celebrate at this time of year. Until next time, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

Posted in On Scribbling, Women's Issues | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments