I only made a couple of resolutions this year. This first, in a humorous reference to all those years I said that forthcoming 12 months would see The Four Realms complete, is that I will get The Thieving King done this year.
The second was to do with my reading.
If I had to list my heroes you’d probably not know one of them. Everyone has heard of George Lucas, Clive Barker and JRR Tolkien but not so many have heard of Larry Hama,. For me he’s up there with those icons.
Larry Hama was the writer of a toy tie-in comic called GI Joe, released by Marvel in 1983 to cash in on the toy run’s popularity. The thing is, it would have been easy for Hama to dial this in. But he didn’t. Sure it had to feature toy of the month and some of those were pretty whacky, but Hama always embraced it, treating his tie-in universe with the respect you’d expect on a big A-list project. No-one was expecting it to last for years, yet I believe at one stage it was Marvel Comics’ biggest seller.
I’d put off reading Storm of Swords. It’s a big book and I’m a slow reader. I’d also not enjoyed Clash of Kings. The circumstances regarding Renly annoyed me greatly, as if the tone of the worldbuilding suddenly shifted. It felt a forced book, one where the writer’s machinations were too clearly on show.
However, I greatly enjoyed the HBO show of Game of Thrones (as well as the book of the same some years prior). George R R Martin proved to be an excellent reader at Eastercon so I decided to give Storm of Swords a go.
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Not sure if something is wrong with me or if I’m coming down with something but I’m falling out of love with Epic Fantasy. For years, I would say my subgenre of choice was the Epic. I love the whole ‘bigness’ of it all – vast casts, vast worldbuilding and story with such massive consequence. I want it bigger with greater consequences. I want it to take my breath away.
But lately nearly every epic fantasy I’ve read, just fails to deliver for me. The only exception has been Steven Erikson’s Malazan books. I can’t put my finger on just one problem with the others but it’s as if the orchestra is too big for the conductor.
I’ve thought about books I’ve truly loved over the last few years, not just at the time but ones that have stayed with me and proved to be just as excellent during a second read through. And most of them have been swords and sorcery rather than straight up epic fantasy. Lies of Locke Lamorra is a true masterpiece and my favourite debut last year (and a book I just would not shut up about) was Douglas Hulick’s Among Thieves.
True, in this sub-genre blending world that’s not exactly a huge shift, but for me it’s a significant one. I don’t know what impact this will have on my own writing, but my current project that I’m plotting is definitely more a swords and sorcery story than an epic fantasy one. I doubt I’ll totally drop the epic elements as I continue to flesh out ideas so it’ll be interesting to see how this one turns out.
So where I’m moving too I can probably only fit in one bookcase. That means that a lot of my books need to go into storage. I’ve semi been planning for this eventuality and have been an ebook convert for years (an ebook library doesn’t take up any space!)
But this gives me a major dilemma. There’s something about a bookcase. I think it says a lot about the person. I always view people without bookcases with caution. But I’m unsure as to what books I should put in my new solitary one.
For example should I put my favourite books on the shelves as a statement of who I am? Should the books on display be purely ornamental? It’s not like I’m planning to do daily tours. Or instead, should I forego the Lynch, the Abercrombie and even the Pratchett for books that have been sitting there for years unread, keeping in mind that I converted to ebooks more than several years back and the physical unread books are likely to stay that?
And if the former, do I need to fill the entire bookcase when I have movies and video games that are also looking for space?
Enquiring minds want to know!
My lifestyle can hardly be consider glamorous. I’m either sat at my desk on the computer or grubbing around in the undergrowth for Tupperware but last night I got to travel into London to attend the book Launch of a friend: Empire State by Adam Christopher. It may not have been superstar-glamorous but it was a good evening and there was even some quaffing.
I first met Adam Christopher at an Eastercon a couple of years ago. He was probably one of the first people I got to know within fandom. At that time we’d both had some minor success (fiction for him, non-fiction for myself) and eagerly discussed the novels we were writing, our hopes and dreams.
Adam was very active on Twitter, not trying to push his work, but just talking about things that interested him: Stephen King, Dark Shadows, occasionally about stuff he was working on. And that was the thing, he was always working on something, going from one completed project to the next.
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Urgh! Not feeling too bright today which is rare for me seeing as I suffer from an over-active immune system and as a result rarely get ill. I was going to write a long ranty post about books and promotion and awards and nepotism but I guess that’ll have to wait.
Besides, I’m heading into London this evening for the Launch of Adam Christopher‘s debut novel, Empire State. I’m currently reading it although I’ve been so ridiculously busy with submissions and family and geocaching, I’ve not had a lot of time to finish it. Genuinely enjoying it so far (and not just saying that to be nice) so if you like prohibition New York, private eyes and golden age superheroes, it might be worth picking checking out.
Given how my weird immune system works, I’ll either be perfectly fine by this evening, or have a week of continually feeling like I’m about to come down with something. I’ve filled myself full of chicken soup to try and push for the former. Hope to see some of you tonight!
Sea of Ghosts was very much a book of two halves for me. It’s an ambitious book that tries to do something a little different and when it works, it’s brilliant. When it doesn’t… well, we’ll come onto that.
I have a real love of fantasy that abandons or subverts the medieval world trope we’ve come to expect from the likes of Tolkien and Martin. Don’t get me wrong, those books definitely have their place but with books like The City & The City and a lot of what Angry Robot is doing right now, people are starting to question the borders between fantasy and science fiction.
Sea of Ghosts has a brilliant set up. The oceans are poisoned and rising. The environment is part of the threat to the protagonists and it makes for a very interesting world where society is forever building upwards. Add dragons, physics and guns and you have a very distinctive and engaging piece of world building.
Cast into this is Granger, an ex-elite soldier who is now hiding from the emperor he insulted. He now runs a prison and into this is thrown someone from his past that upsets the status quo. I didn’t think I would like this plot setup, but it was handled very well and I found myself engaging with Granger’s situation quicker that I thought I would.
For the first half of the book I’m brought deeper and deeper into the story, I go from liking this book to loving it, and then…
…the world breaks. And by that I mean, something that is made out to be such a threat, that I am led to believe is certain death (or a different kind of life), proves not to be. I feel cheated. I go from physically gasping at the end of a chapter to feeling I’ve been duped with a cheesy 1930s cinema serial cliffhanger.
Now I’ve had time to think about this and still it bothers me. Had I misinterpreted the threat? Was this a slight of hand by the author? I’ve thought about this a lot and I still feel cheated.
There’s another example as well, one that isn’t so much of a spoiler. We’re introduced to the concept of Void Flies, a weapon that can eat through cities. Indeed, we see them take out a dragon. We also see them take out a boat. But our hero who is on the boat? He wakes to find a few tiny punctures. Again, I feel cheated.
As a result, the second half, which moves the story and environment on, feels like a completely different book. In other circumstances I would be raving about that, but whereas the first half envokes Bioshock or a good version of Waterworld, the second half feels more like The Golden Compass and as a result it feels a little disjointed. Maybe that’s because, for me at least, I felt less engaged with the novel by this point.
Don’t get me wrong, a book as ambitious as this is always going to get mixed praise, and when it’s on the money, it’s brilliant. The problem is that Campbell seems almost determined to undermine his previous set ups and when he does it’s not some clever twist but a cheap “get out of jail free” card. Even so, I still enjoyed the book, I just felt I could have loved it.
Before I get compared to Martin Amis, let me say that I honestly think that YA is where the real innovation is going on in genre. It might not always be extending the boundaries but it’s pulling new readers in, and more importantly hooking them.
To understand my issue with it though, you have to look back at my reading history. As a kid, I pushed myself with my reading, reading books that really challenged me. I remember reading Watership Down at 7. I didn’t understand all the words, but then I don’t understand all the words of some of the books I read nowadays so I don’t see this as a particular issue. The point was I read… a lot. And as a result, my writing blossomed. At 8 I wrote a fantasy story that the teacher thought so good, he typed all 100 pages of it and put it into the school library.
In 1983, we moved from rural Kent back to Surrey. This meant a new school. At first I was encouraged to read whatever I wanted. I remember picking up Fellowship of the Ring and starting on that. It takes a while to get going so the early parts of it can be quite dry, but I was enjoying it none the less.
Then came the dreaded reading test. I have no idea what went wrong. Maybe I was nervous, maybe I – as I often do now – tripped over my tongue, or maybe I didn’t know how to pronounce some words. Whatever the reason, the result came back that I was reading level 7. The Fellowship of The Ring was reading level 14. I had to stop that book and read a picture book about two monkeys.
And I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t read what I wanted to read. Maybe I wasn’t reading level 14 but I was willing to push myself, yet here I was stuck with shitty picture books.
It damn well nearly killed my reading. The only thing that really saved me was the fact that my mother didn’t believe in restricting access to books and within a few years I’d be reading Clive Barker, letting him subvert my mind.
And this is why I have a problem with YA. Not because the books aren’t cool. Heck, I have no problem with reading YA myself. No my problem is one of branding. I just don’t want anyone to be in my position of being told they can’t read something. “No, that Joe Abercrombie is an adult book, you must choose something from the YA section”.
It also works the other way. How many adults refuse to read YA just because they believe it’s for kids? I don’t have a problem with genre labels, in fact I think they can be helpful, even if books are next to impossible to place under one. But those labels are not ones based on age, and I think that’s where my problem lies.
Either way YA exists and for some people it’s a helpful categorization. I just hope it doesn’t inadvertently restrict young people’s reading.
First off, if you’ve come here expecting a ranty moan about ebook pricing, this probably isn’t the blog post for you. If on the other hand, you’re interested to hear what I learned from speaking to a work colleague who has started pirating books at 64, read on.
Let’s kick it off by saying that I do like ebooks, and whilst I’d like them cheaper I still think they are pretty good value for the hours of entertainment they provide.
I’ve noticed in the last month – since Xmas really – that a LOT of people are getting kindles. We’ve gone from none in my place of work to at least 4 (which is about 10% of the workforce). In chatting to those people, I feel I’ve been given a better insight into the issues ebooks face moving forwards.
Take person X, we’ll call him John. John is close to retirement and likes Bradbury and Harry Harrison. He’s a big reader and bought a kindle for he and his wife to share (which she hogs all the time). He likes it so much, he may buy a second one. John knows nothing about publishing and he knows nothing about my writing (I go all Clark Kent at work, it’s a long story).
But John has an issue with ebooks and told me the other day how he’d committed his first illegal download. I can’t remember which book it was, I only know it wasn’t genre as it was one of his wife’s favourite authors. He’d managed to find a torrent or a download of the book.
“It’s not been out that long and it’s already out there,” he enthused.
But why download? I mean, for all Amazon’s evils, they do make it so it’s incredibly easy to add books to your kindle. It was all down to pricing apparently. The hardback had been heavily discounted by Amazon so that the “This price was set by the publisher” kindle edition was more expensive.
“It’s a rip-off,” John told me.
Now this got me thinking. You see, I don’t have an issue with an ebook being more than a paperback (or even a hardback) so long as it’s good value. But to John, the fact it was more was a major issue. I told him that ebooks have VAT but he didn’t care.
“You’re getting less, why should you pay more.”
Now the arguement to that is that books aren’t free to produce. We at all levels of the publishing industry know this. So what’s the problem then? Why can’t John see this?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot and came to the conclusion that it’s one of perception.
I think if I make the statement “something is worth exactly what someone is willing to pay for it” I’m not being controversial. Worth is not primarily derived from cost, although it does play a major factor.
Let me give you an example. You know those amazing resin busts of Marvel and DC charcters you can get for about £60? Well I remember one company telling me the reason they preferred to produce those than action figures was because they were comparatively less to make. With an action figure, you make lots of little parts and then have to put them all together. With a bust, because it’s usually a single piece, it needs a bigger mold (and those molds are very expensive) but the profit margin is far, far greater. Why do people pay £60 for them, then? Well because those things are bigger than an action figure and must therefore be much more expensive. Size plays a factor in worth.
Now look at the hardback novel. Never mind that it’s always discounted, a hardback novel costs more than twice that of a paperback, and the reason the public accepts this, is because it’s bigger. Now, I’m not trying to attack the hardback pricing model and I’ll hold my hand up and say I don’t know all the details, but I’d wager that just like the Marvel resin models, hardbacks probably have a greater profit margin.
Whatever the business model, whether I’m correct or not, the point I’m trying to make is that the general public has come to accept that how the book is bound affects its worth. In short, it’s helped build the myth that manufacturing costs form a large part of the cost of a book. If a hardback costs £20 and a paperback £8 then they assume manufacturing must cost a lot, otherwise where is that other £12 going? Again, I’m not attacking the business model, I’m just saying where people’s perception comes from.
So remove the binding, the public perceive the book should be cheaper. It’s all the fault of hardbacks.
It gets worse When I try and tell John that by downloading the book he’s denying the author money. I do slip in the old “most authors earn less than…” routine. But John’s opinion is the pricing IS the fault of the author.
You see he views the author as the one with power. If an author “gives” their work to a publisher who “screws” the public on pricing, they are an accomplice to the “rip-off”. ‘Ethical’ authors (apparently) should withhold the manuscript if they feel their readers are going to get screwed. Again, it’s a case of perception. To John, 1-starring an amazon review because of ebook pricing seems entirely justified because the author “isn’t doing anything”.
Now we all know that authors have no real power, and to be fair I don’t think £8 for a new novel is bad, whatever the format. But if piracy is going to be minimised then authors and publishers have to realise they are playing a game of perception. Say that books cost nothing to produce and, at best, Joe Public thinks publishers are lying, at worst they feel people have been ripped off for years over hardbacks. Say that authors have no say over pricing, Joe Public will just perceive authors as mealy-mouthed.
Now I’m not saying the answer is to drop ebook prices, nor to lay a book’s P&L on the line. In fact I’m not sure that I know what the answer is, just that a 64 year old has started filesharing simply because they don’t feel the current pricing models are justified. I’m sure John’s not the only one, but at the same time I accept this isn’t an epedemic. Not everyone thinks like John. But it’s going to continue until perceptions are changed. And currently, the arguments don’t seem to be working.