A Year of Reading

After reading Tina Connolly's recent post about what she's read in the past year, I decided to do the same. For now, though, mine is just a list of titles. Maybe if I find time, I'll come back and flesh this out a bit.

I'm pretty sure that this list isn't complete (I'll add more as I remember them), and I'm not sure that all of these were actually read during the 2013 calendar year (I might have read a few of them in the final months of 2012). In any case, I only listed books that I'd recommend reading.

I also read a few hundred short stories (many of them were slush for a magazine and many others were works-in-progress, by friends), but I'll save my list of them (the published ones) for another (unlikely to ever materialize) post.

Oh, and I haven't finished Nicola Griffith's Hild yet, but it's shaping up to be one of the best books ever. Really. Go out and buy it, people. It is truly amazing. I can hardly wait to get back to it. In fact... why the heck am I blogging when I could be reading Hild?

Enough said. Here's the list:

Novels
A Dance with Dragons by George R.R. Martin
The Hydrogen Sonata by Iain M. Banks
Among Others by Jo Walton
Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut
The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman
Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill
The Shining and Doctor Sleep by Stephen King
We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler
The Fractal Prince by Hannu Rajaniemi
The Age of Ice by J.M. Sidorova
Hild by Nicola Griffith

Comics and Graphic Novels
Locke & Key (vols. 1-5) by Joe Hill
From Hell by Alan Moore
Saga (vols. 1-2) by Brian K. Vaughan

Short Fiction Collections and Anthologies
Hair Side, Flesh Side by Helen Marshall
At the Mouth of the River of Bees by Kij Johnson
Remember Why You Fear Me by Robert Shearman
Unpossible by Daryl Gregory
Telling Tales: The Clarion West 30th Anniversary Anthology

Nonfiction
The Big Burn by Timothy Egan

The Next Big Thing

This is my response to a "blog survey" about my Work in Progress. I was tagged for this by Carlie. Others of my Clarion West 2012 cohort who have been tagged on this include Alyc, Cory, Helen, Kim, Blythe, and Georgina.

Here goes.


1. What is the title of your Work in Progress?

The Resurrectionist


2. Where did the idea come from for the book?

As faithful readers will no doubt recall, I sometimes post my daily timed writing exercises on this blog. Some of them I later develop into longer pieces. Most of them are responses to lines pulled randomly from books around the house—lines taken completely out of context.

Back in February, I wrote on a prompt from one of H.G. Wells' late (and lesser-known) works, The Happy Turning. Later, at the Clarion West Writers Workshop, I developed it into a short story. I had so much fun writing it, and received so many intriguing suggestions from my colleagues and the instructor of the week (Stephen Graham Jones), that I began to think of it as the beginning of a novel.

Today, as I was going through my timed writing exercises, looking for the one mentioned above, I found several others, with related themes (here, here, and here). It seems that my mind has been delving into (and back out of) the grave rather frequently.


3. What genre does your book fall under?

Hmmmm... difficult question. At the risk of giving too much away, I think of it as paranormal horror, disguised as a light-hearted science-fiction adventure.


4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I've never been one to generate a clear picture of what characters look like in books that I'm reading. The same goes for characters that I write. When it matters, for any story reason, I'll describe elements of their appearance, but when it comes down to it, I really don't care what faces my characters have in the minds of readers. I want readers to supply the face that works for them. I am, therefore, sorely tempted to boycott this question altogether.

However, to engage the spirit of the survey, I'll give it a try. But only for two of my characters, and I reserve the right to come back and alter this post later, should the faces of these actors begin to exert too heavy an influence on the natural evolution of my creations.

Ella Ferry, the protagonist, is in her mid-sixties, and is a smart, crusty, wiry, curmudgeon. Life (and a few of life's less savory emissaries) have dealt her a pretty shitty hand, but she manages to get the job done and to sort out whatever (and whoever) needs sorting. My top picks to play her would be Frances McDormand or Sigourney Weaver.

Turner Luce, a sophisticated but rather unpleasant character about whom I shouldn't divulge too much, might be well played by Ralph Fiennes or Clive Owen.


5. What is a one-sentence synopsis of the book?

In the near future, technology that restores deceased persons to life proves to be a blessing for some, a curse for many, and, for a privileged few, one hell of a business opportunity.


6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

The latter, if I'm lucky. If not... well, we'll just see how desperate I get. I don't particularly like the idea of self-publishing, as I'd rather not have to deal with any aspect of the process besides writing. Agents and publishers play important roles in turning a book into something that people might actually want to read. I'd like my novel to benefit from such expertise.


7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Ha ha ha ha. Good one. First draft? Past tense? Ask me again when I've written a first draft and I'll be delighted to tell you.


8. What other books would you compare this story to in your genre?

Um... we may have encountered a problem here. Although I'm sure there's nothing truly original about my novel, I'm at a loss when it comes to comparisons. I read mostly hard SF and literary classics, with a bit of fantasy and modern literary tossed into the mix. Books that feel similar to some of what I'd like to capture in this novel include:
The Angel's Game by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (for dark, creepy, moral ambiguity)
Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (for on-the-road--or river--adventure with plenty of humor)
Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey (for tumbleweeds, old-west feel, religious zealotry, and guns-a-blazing)
The Queen of the South by Arturo Perez-Reverte (would-be damsel-in-distress defying expectations to become kick-ass, uber-pragmatic, violent-when-necessary kingpin)
The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton (for secretive organizations, plot reversals, and the-completely-unexpected-seems-inevitable-ness)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson (for freaked-out, substance-fueled humor, sheer paranoia, and dry, dusty, road-trip-through-the-American-Southwest mystique)


9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Part of this is answered above in question 2, but I suppose that some of my underlying interest in the idea of corporeal resurrection stems from growing up with people who believe in a literal resurrection of the dead. This novel is not a commentary on any specific religious beliefs (the mechanisms of resurrection in my story have nothing to do with those suggested by Christian traditions), but tales that I heard as a child, from both the New and Old Testaments of the Christian Bible, may have planted early seeds this project.

That would be the "what" part. As for the "who," most of the credit goes to my Clarion West cohort and Stephen Graham Jones, for giving me such enthusiastic feedback on the short story, and for giving me so many additional ideas about where I might take it.

Also, in that this story features a tough, practical, often abrasive, but ultimately caring woman as the protagonist, it is certainly inspired by many such real-life women who I know or have known.


10. What else about your book might pique the reader's interest?

I will include realistic details about disease, death, and mortal remains—information gleaned from medical training (especially from forensic pathology rotations). It will be set largely in wastelands of the American Southwest, but segments of the story will occur in cities as well. I intend to explore the fuzzy line between incomprehensible technology and old-fashioned magic, and whether the distinction even matters.

Mostly, though, I just want to create something fun—fun to write and fun to read. I've been writing sad stories lately, and I want to see what it feels like to laugh and smile while typing, so if I succeed, readers can expect to be entertained.

Armstrong's Moon

Plenty has been said about a man whose most lauded deed (in mankind's collective memory) was done nine and a half years before I was born.

I don't really know very much about Neil Armstrong. He was, for me, as a child, more of a symbol than a person. I fantasized about the idea of being a Neil Armstrong more than I ever worked towards becoming one. I understand now, better than I did as a child, how unlikely it is that I will ever follow in his "small step." Even so, it was dreams of that step, dreamt as a small child, and expression of those dreams, that prompted parents and aunts and uncles to tell me, if you want to be an astronaut, you have to be good at math and science.

I don't know... maybe I would have pursued an education in science even if I hadn't spent my early years in the afterglow of the Apollo program. I don't think so. I think that all of the buzz about moon landings and the new Space Shuttle program that followed had a huge influence on my thinking. I believe that I am who I am today, in part, because of Neil Armstrong and the dreams that he and his colleagues inspired.

There are many photographs of the moon available online. Some amazing ones. Enjoy them.

Here is one that I took tonight, minutes after learning of Neil Armstrong's death.

Thank you, Mr. Armstrong. Rest in peace.

Post Clarion West Post

And now it's all over.

Our final instructor, Chuck Palahniuk, said that every story should have death in it somewhere—and also a birth. After six weeks of living in a house with seventeen other people—all amazingly creative, generous, talented, and loving—disbanding the fellowship is something like a death. But a litter of eighteen newborn writers are puking and mewling in the aftermath, digesting the rich nutrition fed them over the past six weeks of gestation, converting it to writerly bones and muscles, preparing to spring forth and fly high.

One death and eighteen births: Good ratio.

And my plan going forward... write like hell and hope it's all for something.

...and so it begins.

In a few short minutes I will attend the first orientation meeting for the Clarion West Writers Workshop, and then, for the following six weeks, I'll be writing... and learning to write, and writing, and reading others' writing, and writing, and hearing all about what's wrong with my writing, and writing, and writing, and writing.

If I get time, I'll drop a few notes here about how things are going, but if you don't see anything, don't worry. I'm probably still alive.

Cheers.

Cat Rambo Workshops

I'm currently taking a series of SF/Fantasy writing workshops from Northwest author Cat Rambo. The sessions are taught online, using Google+ Hangout, which is proving to be an ideal tool for the job.

We're halfway through the series and it has already been immensely helpful. Cat is an excellent instructor with a wealth of experience in writing, editing, and teaching. It has also evolved into an amazing networking opportunity, as I've been able to interact with the other students, and, in some cases, with their writing networks as well.

Cat will be offering several additional workshops over the coming months, and I highly recommend them to anyone interested in writing SF, fantasy, horror... or just about any other type of fiction. And just in case... here's the full URL to her workshop page:

http://www.kittywumpus.net/blog/2012/01/04/online-classes-and-workshops-for-2012/

Go forth and register!

a long time coming

As faithful followers of this blog will note, an indecently long interval has passed since last I posted. That's life. I neither offer excuse nor beg forgiveness.

Tonight, however, I'm inspired to write (at least a short little blurb), if for no other reason, to draw your attention to the change in the above description of this blot. Where the subheading used to refer to yours truly as an "intermittently disillusioned pathology resident," or some such bunk, I've now assumed a new identity. Yes, I am a hopelessly chronic case of academic addiction.

Of course I have a fairly good idea of where to lay the blame for this intellectual dependency. Don't quote me on the (pseudo)science here, but my impression is that people who are denied a certain substance or experience throughout enough of their formative years, are more likely to develop unhealthy attachments to such vices later in life.

I was home-schooled for the first eleven years of my education, so whereas most people develop a healthy balance of respect, disdain, appreciation and general apathy for formal education by the time they get through college, once I started taking classes at the local community college at age 18, I was hooked. A hopeless junkie for life. And like any addict, I rode the crest of an initial wave of academic ecstasy (top of all of my classes, prize pupil of all of my instructors) and thought that it would last forever. Neurotransmitters become exhausted, receptors become saturated, and all junkies must ultimately crash. I managed to graduate from college with a decent GPA, but that was in no way due to my last two quarters. And by the time I'd finished my last class, I was more than ready to (as PGW would so eloquently put it) part brass rags with the whole academic mess and just settle down to work for a while.

That "while" lasted just over a year, after which I found myself studying for an MPH in International Health and Development at Tulane's School of Public Health and Tropical Medicine. The thrill of that first big hit after a respectable piece of abstinence put me over the edge and I took the big step down the path into darkness: I applied to medical schools.

Eight years later, I've finished my medical training (four years for the MD and another four of pathology residency), and what do I do? Do I call it quits for good, get a job, and contribute to this blessed capitalist abomination in which I live? Nope... the "dark passenger" was too strong (as the eponymous hero of another of my guilty vices, the Showtime series Dexter might say).

I have fallen into the epitome of academic intellectually masturbatory depravity: the PhD! This time I'll focus on Environmental and Occupational Health (after four years of diagnosing death and disease, I'd really like to get involved in the preventative end of things).

So... am I full of guilt and self-loathing? Am I writhing in an agony of ecstatic despair for my hopeless condition?

Well... classes start the day after tomorrow, and actually, I'm pretty damned happy about whole thing. (AAaaahhhh... the sweet rush of that first taste... a stronger cut... a new, exotic flavor... my next fix).