Sam Sykes

D-D-DragonCon!

Admittedly, I could have told you this earlier, but I will be gone all weekend because I am at DRAGONCON 2010!

It’s a star-studded event attended by a bunch of cool authors, both Pyr and otherwise, and I WILL BE DOING SOME PANELS RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

…why am I not telling you what panels I will be doing?

Because nobody actually told me!  It’s as big a surprise to me as it is to you, much like a handsome stranger crawling through your window at night.  But in that case which you might call the police, this surprise encounter is actually not likely to end in tears!

I will also be signing from dawn to death…er…dusk.  So, please, do swing by the Pyr Booth and buy a book to be signed!  If I’m not there, just tell the jerks running it that you DEMAND that Sam Sykes sign this book and they will see to it!

So, do come see me.  If you don’t, I will shave Cherie Priest bald.

There’s No Blood Coming Out of this Stone!

Go read this.

That might have irritated you something fierce.  If it did, you’re not at all alone, since this got posted shortly after as a means of clarification.  There are posts like this all over the place, exhibitions of this very curious tendency of bloggers and critics to go into “Highlander” mode and believe there can be only one form of fiction and only one type of author.  I suspect this isn’t even the first time this particular argument has been tossed about.  I suspect there are quite a few “literary snobs” sitting around and commenting on the status of The Black Prism as it compares to Jane Austen.  I suspect right now, there’s some fantasy writer agonizing over how his book is going to provide commentary on the world that desperately needs to be heard.

But we’re not going to talk about those guys.  We’re not going to talk about the Speculative Scotsman’s posts.  We’re not going to discuss the state of the genre as it compares to mainstream literary fiction.

Why?

Because I seriously don’t give a shit.

And why don’t I give a shit…seriously?

Because this does not matter in the slightest.

This particular topic has been hashed and rehashed to death and every time I read it, I can’t help but think I’ve walked in on a conversation toward the end, when people have set aside their wine glasses and begin rolling up their sleeves.  I always think I’ve missed something, because I sincerely can’t figure out why we’re discussing this in the first place.

One of my favorite reads of last year was The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga, a story about an Indian cab driver and his reaction to the world’s attempts to destroy his dignity.  I loved this book a lot and so did a lot of people.  Enough that it won the Booker Award.  I can’t say it didn’t deserve it; it was a fantastic read and a great insight into a world I’ve never seen.

One of my favorite reads of all time is The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch, a story about a lying asshole who quests first for riches, then for revenge in a world that he understands all too well.  I loved this book and so did a lot of people.  Enough that it’s one of the first books that comes to mind when people think of “great fantasy.”  I can’t say it didn’t deserve it; it’s a fantastic read and a great insight into a mind I’ve never seen.

They are two fantastic books.

I love them both.

To date, I have never asked myself “who would win in a fight between Aravind Adiga and Scott Lynch?”

Because there’s just no comparing the two.

“Yes, of course,” you might say, “there is no comparison, because one’s meant as a serious commentary and the other is intended for pure entertainment.”

“Or,” you other guys might say, upon reading that first ‘you’s’ comment, “there is no comparison, because one is a masterful insight into character in a glorious world and the other is stodgy mainstream.”

That’s not what I mean and I suspect you know that.

The White Tiger is no more stodgy mainstream for snobs than The Lies of Locke Lamora is pure entertainment.  I don’t compare the two because they’re completely different beasts and I get completely different things out of them.  They’re both entertaining, of course, and both well-written, but while I gather insight of one kind from one kind, I gather insight from another from the other.  At no point did it ever occur to me, when reading (or re-reading) either, to compare the two.

And this, I feel, is a good place to be in.  I can accept both books on their own merits, enjoy both their qualities for what they are.

Why can’t the rest of us?

If you’re at all familiar with this blog, you know I think the sheer amount of unfair comparisons in the genre is damaging to us all.  Comparing one author to another when they’ve little in common with each other diminishes the value of both’s contributions.  Applied to literature as a whole, it’s damaging to everything.  Suddenly, the expectations twist violently from expecting a good book to expecting something from a book that the book will never be.  Suddenly, the unfair criticism is no longer “this author isn’t George R.R. Martin,” so much as it is “this book isn’t Pride and Prejudice! I’ve been tricked!”

You can, in fact, enjoy both on their own merits.  The comparisons are silly.

It’s ridiculous.

It’s unnecessary.

I want to punch you all in the face.

Love,

Sam Sykes xoxoxo

The Tome has Arrived…

My friends.

There comes a time in our lives, a time when you really can’t think of a better opening than that same “there comes a time” line that has been used for basically every shitty movie that has come out in the past five years but it’s still kind of a cool thing and you’ve just spent the past two hours editing and you can’t figure out what exactly you were supposed to be talking about in the first place…

And that time is now.

As of today, Tome of the Undergates is in stock and available to be ordered from Amazon.com (where did that link come from?  Gosh, that’s convenient.  Almost like an omen of some sort sent from a God that would not take kindly if we ignored it and did not buy as the opportunity presented itself!)  Yes, you can buy Tome of the Undergates right the fuck now from Amazon if you so wished!

…or you could wait until DragonCon and buy some from the Pyr Booth (signed!) at the beginning of September!

…or you could wait until September 17th hit and buy them in any bookstore that is cool enough to have such a fancy-pants book available!

OR YOU COULD INCUR MY WRATH AND NOT GET ONE AT ALL.

But, here is a list of people who have never read Tome of the Undergates:

• Adolf Hitler
• Osama Bin Laden
• Joseph Stalin
• Hayden Christensen

Do you want to join the ranks of the damned?  No?  Then I suspect you better read one today!

That said, since the book is available now, I guess we could have timed the ARC Giveaway Contest better, but…man, you know how it is.

We had a lot of cool entries, I’m pleased to say.  Who could really choose amongst such great entries as…

How about you open the contest to Australians or I’ll swim to the US and shove your ARC so far up your fat American arse you’ll be spewing quotes for weeks.

Nice use of threats.

If it were not for me, you would not have been able to meet James Owen, and thus would never have met Felicia Day.

And that was my favorite encounter with Felicia Day…

From the Mailbag…

It’s always a tad flattering when people come to me seeking answers.  Why only a tad?  Because sometimes, the question is “where did you hide the bodies?”  And really, if I wasn’t going to tell the police, why would I tell you?  And I also like doing things publicly, as is noted by anyone who cares to use the Freedom of Information Act to find out exactly what went down with me in San Francisco in the summer of 1989.

Hence, when I get a question in my email that I think deserves an interesting response, I leap upon it.  Such was the case when Doug wrote to me…

Dear Sam.

Greetings,

I am writing you because I am seeking advice. I am a novice fantasy writer and am currently half way through a manuscript for a high fantasy epic titled (Instrument of Vengeance). What I really want is some professional feedback, but I am not going to impose and ask you to read anything I’ve written.

Eventually, I will finish and am dreading how to get go about getting this published. I am trying to go for a lasting work over a profitable one and know because of the the unusual non conventional way I write and tell my tale that this will be a hard sell at best.

Do you have any thoughts on this? What advice would you give someone taking the path I have in the current market?

I suspect that every author is flattered by these “How Did You Get Published” questions (assuming the question is not “How Did You Get Published?”) since we truly enjoy the opportunity to discuss these subjects in a way that we usually only get to do with other authors, and then it’s usually pretty clouded by how badly we envy and despise each other.

This particular email I wanted to address due to the words Doug uses here: “unusual,” “non-conventional,” “impose,” “Newt Gingrich.”

Or maybe just two of those.

Of course, no one actually remembers the general attitude that Tolkien was met with when he penned Lord of the Rings, but from various accounts we can conclude that he was, in general, considered a little nuts for putting it out there.  It seems a little strange today that we can say, with a straight face, “conventional fantasy” and have it mean something, but there’s no doubt that there is fantasy that’s easy to sell and fantasy that’s not that easy to sell.

Personally, I don’t know the difference between them.  I could sit and conjecture about Harry Potter rip-offs, complex magical systems, moral ambiguity and how each of these affects a book’s ability to be sold.  I could, but I won’t, because I honestly have no idea.  I’m not the reading public.  I’m nothing more than a humble, strikingly handsome author with excellent oral hygiene and a vocabulary that makes ladies swoon.

And I have no idea which one Tome of the Undergates falls under.  Reviews are mixed, of course, and most agree that’s it fairly non-conventional.  But (and I know some of them might not want to hear this) reviewers don’t know, either.  They’re just as picky, selective, quirky and offbeat as nobody else and quite a few of them thrive on their quirks.

But that’s not the point.

I didn’t write for the reviewers.

And I didn’t write for the public, either (except my fictional memoirs ‘Why I Can’t Watch Cereal Commercials Without Crying.’ Those were all for you, baby.)

I wrote for myself.

And I’m not alone in this.

I’m sure a lot of authors, would-be or otherwise, sit at their computer desk/toilet if you have a laptop and ask themselves: “What is going to be the next great American novel that will capture the hearts of millions and sell at record numbers to shame the best and brightest literary minds in the world?”

In fact, go ahead and do that.  Just close your eyes and ask yourself that.

If you thought about it for a moment and, in response, went slightly slack in the jaw, ignored a thin trail of drool that wept from the corner of your mouth and emitted a low, droning buuuuuuhhhhh sound: congratulations, you’ve got what it takes!

The answer “I have no idea” is integral to writing.  Mark Newton once yelled at me for revealing this trade secret to an author, and I’m sure I probably should have cultivated the image that writing is a very deep, mystical thing.  But I find that a lot of authors (good ones, at least) tend to shrug and say “I-uh-nuh” a lot, especially when it’s asked “why did you write this book?”

Probably because it never occurred to us not to.

And this is my point: the very first and most crucial step to getting published is to know who you’re writing for.  There’s no shame in writing for an audience, of course, but you’d best make sure you fit that audience.  If you’re going to write for yourself, however, you’ve got to be prepared for the fact that your voice (hopefully) is unique.  It might be shrill, it might be sexy, it might be deep enough to sound like something out of something’s bowels and it scares children but some people think it’s pretty hot.  Because your voice isn’t going to sound like flute music to everyone, including agents and publishers.

But, just like my dorm roommate who insisted that if you really listened hard to Soundgarden’s Black Hole Sun you could hear a really great recipe for kebab, there are going to be people your voice just sounds angelic to.  It might be your agent, your editor, your publisher.  Or it might not be for them but they might know who it is for.  Or it might just not be for them and you can’t do poop about that.

But that’s not a bad thing.  Davie Bowie is not a legendarily handsome man whose name I have tattooed on my left buttock because he’s a great, monstrous hit that everyone listens to.  He is his own sound and I was really, really drunk.

This might sound a tad philosophical, but I genuinely think this was what I was least prepared for when I went into this business.  It honestly did not occur to me that some people wouldn’t like my sound.  It can be difficult to accept, of course, but eventually one comes to thrive on their individuality.  Because some day, someone will have your name tattooed on their posterior and they’ll send you pictures.*

So, my best advice, for those of you who’ve got your own voice, is to be prepared for the very real fact that, just because someone doesn’t like it, doesn’t mean it’s not good.

On a more practical note, though: research your agents so you can find the best fit for your work (don’t send your Epic Fantasy to a Romance agent), heed their advice well, learn to separate useful criticism from smoke being blown up your anus and never, ever stop.

*Please stop sending me pictures, Stephen.

Last Day For ARC Giveaway!

Yes, it is the LAST day to enter the GREAT AMERICAN ARC GIVEAWAY FOR TOME OF THE UNDERGATES.

If you wanted a copy but just can’t wait until September, you must email me right the hell now and tell me ONE good reason why you deserve an ARC and also if all these constant font changes are annoying.

All entries go out to our CELEBRITY JUDGES tomorrow and they will choose those what who done get an ARC!

Also, remember this is for the Americans, only, since those UK folk got, like, eighty different giveaways.

What are you waiting for?  GET EXCITED.

YAAAAAAAAY.

Bravest Challenge, Bravest Victors, Bravest Links

So, Graeme Flory may have miserably failed us and brought great shame to his sheep-herding ancestors, but fortunately for us, the world is filled with many people who are not such incredible disappointments to country and kinsman.

Of course, I speak of THE BRAVEST CHALLENGE’S first victors!

Louis from LEC Book Reviews has completed the great challenge by reading David Bilsborough’s The Wanderer’s Tale, a return to Tolkien-style epic fantasy.  His thoughts?

In the end, as much as I might want to recommend The Wanderer’s Tale to even a slim, defined portion of the fantasy readership, but I find myself unable to. What David Bilsborough set out to do might have been admirable if he hadn’t done such a botched job of it. The results of his labor is a thick book that reads slowly, boringly and without much else. If you do somehow slug your way through this novel and for some reason enjoy it (and I can’t think of any reasons why you would) then the second volume in The Annals of Lindormyn, A Fire in the North, is available. I personally don’t have the heart to even go see if things improve in this sequel but well on you to do so.

Oh dear.  Well, poor fellow.  Louis did ask me what exactly I made of his findings and, to be honest, I’m quite pleased.  We’re not here to forsake, ridicule or lambast authors.  There are a few people out there who quite like Bilsborough.  Rather, we’re here to both move out of our comfort zones and to take a look at what might be great books with bad reputations.  I have great faith that we’ll see something like that in the coming weeks.

You can read Louis’ entire review here.

Next up, we have E.M. Edwards, talented writer (you can read some of his very cool excerpts here), who took on a challenge that was a little personal to more than one person: my very own Tome of the Undergates. Edwards prefaced this challenge by saying that, from everything he’s heard, he didn’t think it was going to be his sort of book.  He devoured it in a week, however, and had this to say (as taken from Twitter):

In the end it wasn’t the book for me, but I want to be fair where fair is due.  I think you’ve [Sykes] got great energy as a writer and that it was a character driven book, despite all the action.  But I’m glad I read it, and I wish you nothing but continued success as an author.

And I’m quite pleased with this result, as well.  I’ve been accused of being unconventional, as well as a deviant and bohemian before, and I’m always pleased to see peoples’ honest reactions to Tome. Sometimes they’re good (speaking of, did you see Ole Imsen’s excellent review of Tome here?  Or Specusphere’s positive review here?) and sometimes we get people who find that my style just doesn’t work for them.

All in all, the Bravest Challenge is a learning experience for us all: challenged, challenger and Steve from down the street.  Edwards does have a vested interest in supporting my beard so maybe Black Halo will be more for him!

And with the challenge completed, I am pleased to award The Raging Rothfuss to you both.

Congratulations!

As an aside, I have updated the Links section of the website to include a few more bloggers, a few charities and organizations I support and, most importantly, webcomics I follow.  If you’re a blogger that might like their work put up (and it helps if you’ve reviewed Tome), please let me know!  Also, man, that list of webcomics is pretty skimpy.  You better introduce me to some better ones.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

I just saw this last night and my thoughts on it are, in a word: Yes.

Not YES. Not yes.  But Yes.

The movie is based off a pretty successful comic book series by Bryan Lee O’Malley, Canadian.  In a nutshell: it’s a pretty hysterical, very attention-grabbing serving of geek candy that really turns out to be something special while also espousing the importance of indieship (that is, the act of wearing tight jeans, ironic clothing and not enjoying making money) and following your heart.

The plot, as some of you might know, revolves around the titular character, Scott Pilgrim (played by Michael Cera), as he courts the enigmatic hipster chick Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) and subsequently fights for her affections against her Seven Evil Exes.  It is a pretty straightforward plot and it summarizes this movie’s greatest strength: the sheer surreality of it all.

Scott Pilgrim lives in Ontario, a place that is decidedly pretty normal and, indeed, for the first few moments of the movie, it’s portrayed as pretty normal.  If you knew nothing about the plot or had never watched the trailers, you’d be justified in thinking this might be yet another passive aggressive indie film.  It’s pretty clear once the movie settles into its own groove, however, that the film is part-superhero flick, part-comedy, part-love story and entirely awesome to watch.

The fights are completely over the top and littered with video game references.  Health bars appear and disappear, combo scores count up off to the side of the screen, a gloriously 16-bit soundtrack plays in the background.  Scott’s enemies explode into coins upon death, which he gleefully collects.  It’s a pretty shameless grab for the nerdcore crowd, but it’s done so well that I found I didn’t mind it at all, sort of like how a very sappy love poem can still be considered pretty sweet, despite the fact that one stanza contains the word “throbbing” seven times.

A movie cannot stand on cultural references alone, though, as we have seen from every lame “_____ Movie” parody ever, and if Scott Pilgrim vs. The World tried to do that, I’d be pretty pissed off.  Fortunately, the video game references are just the delicious geek icing on what is a very funny, very cool cake.

And this is where I want to stress the comedy and the surreality of it all.  A lot of the humor is carried by the fact that no one seems at all surprised that any of this is happening.  They watch the fantastically hyperactive fights with awe, but never does anyone stop think “wait, what?”  And this is a good thing, because if they did, the effect would be ruined.  Instead, the movie is carried very well by the fact that everything is taken at face value.

For example, at one point in the film, Scott is preparing to fight Todd Ingram (played by Brandon Routh), ex-boyfriend of Ramona and current boyfriend to Scott’s ex-girlfriend.  He flies at Todd and is promptly suspended in mid-air by Todd’s telekinetic powers and hurled away.  His ex looks on with a smug smirk and says: “Didn’t you know?  Todd’s a vegan.”

And that’s it.

It’s elaborated on a little later and not by much, but it’s never questioned.  Veganism just gives you psychic powers and everyone accepts this.  It’s done with such a straight face by the rest of the cast that it’s just hysterical.  If you can appreciate the surreality of that situation, you can appreciate everything about this movie and, when taken as what it is, it’s almost flawless.

That’s my chief criticism with it, though: taken as what it is, it’s impressive, but not really classic.  The humor is great, the action is fantastic, but it sort of lacks that same character-driven humor that makes a truly classical comedy film.  The overall message of the movie, however, is that they probably don’t really care about that and just want to have a good time.  It does that in spades.

If I could have any further grievance, it would be with Michael Cera.  I like him.  I’ve liked him since Arrested Development. But he’s just never changed since then.  In absolutely every film he’s ever been in, he’s always some awkward, passive, unstoppably indie kid.  Sometimes it works (Arrested Development), sometimes it doesn’t (Year One), but I’m sort of waiting for something new to happen.  Granted, it does work in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, because he’s energetic, active and…still pretty awkward.  I like him as an actor and as a person a lot, which is why I kind of hope he evolves at some point and is able to do more stuff.

All told: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is a very funny, very cool movie and well worth the price of admission.  If you’re the kind of person that reads this blog and enjoys it, I’d definitely check it out.

Only Nerds Ride Silver Dragons

Quick bit: only one week left until we choose the winners of the ARC Giveaway Contest.  Submit now.  SUBMIT OR BE DESTROYED.

Anyway, how many of y’all remember Dragonlance?  Saladin Ahmed, my fellow SFWA Author (did I not mention I joined SFWA?  Well, I’ll tell you all about it when you’re older), does.  As he brought up this point (which I will now horribly paraphrase because I am not going to sift through Facebook posts just for YOU, Ahmed) in a recent Facebook post:

It’s not “cool” to like Dragonlance anymore.

For those of you who are unaware, Dragonlance is one of the many series that fall under that auspicious genre of “Tie-In Fiction”: fiction where the commonality between books is the world and the mythos, not the author or characters, usually based on table-top or pen-and-paper games.  Dragonlance was one of these, and along with stuff like Forgotten Realms and Dark Sun, it formed the introduction of a lot of young men and women into fantasy literature.

And it was awesome.

But Saladin is pretty much right.  For those of you who are aspiring authors out there: you are not allowed to enjoy Dragonlance, or any tie-in fiction, once you become published.  That was something you did when you were younger, like thinking spinach was gross and watching scrambled pornography.  Now you’re a big man and you will read ADULT FICTION ABOUT MAGICIANS AND THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM.

Actually, what’s far more likely is that you’re probably going to become startlingly aware of the mechanics of tie-in fiction.  You’ll have seen where the magician keeps his rabbit, so to speak, and suddenly it’s just an old pedophile in a fancy suit on stage.

There are a number of grievances against tie-in fiction: it’s cheap, it’s not original, it’s “kiddie,” it’s for dorks who aren’t serious about their fantasy, whatever.  Amongst all of these complaints, the only one I see as truly valid is the one that also ruined a lot of tie-in fiction for me: it’s limited by the world.

The characters and the author become slaves to the worldbuilding: they can affect it, but only so far as it can pertain to the world.  A king can be unseated, but only temporarily.  The Unspeakable Darkness was defeated, but only in a little part of the world (and there’s an even more Unspeakable Darkness two books down the line).  Things can change, but only as long as the source material allows.

It’s the same reason MMOs are generally not as satisfying as single-player games.  Sure, you’ve defeated the Forces of Evil with your Ragtag Band of Heroes and you’ve Saved The World From A Thousand Years of Darkness, but so has that other guild (and their shaman doesn’t stand in the void zone, you big stupid).  In a single-player game, once the evil is dead, it’s dead and you killed it.  In a non-tie-in fiction book, the impact is felt a little stronger because you know there’s not going to be an external source that contradicts what happened.  Ned Stark is not coming back.

But there are merits of tie-in fiction (when they’ve been given good authors) and that’s because there’s a subtle, silent advantage in having “the world” not matter very much: in such a case, characters matter so much more.  And this is pretty much the difference between good tie-in fiction and bad tie-in fiction: you come for the characters, not the world or its complex political systems or its oh-so-awesome magic weaving.

And this is basically my point (you didn’t think I had one, did you?  Shows what you know!).  It seems that we occasionally skirt a line that suggests characters don’t matter as much as a unique gimmick or angle on fantasy does, be it a magic system, worldbuilding or mythos.  These are important, sure, but as ever, they don’t matter if they don’t affect the characters.

In my impetuous youth of six months ago, I considered “nice worldbuilding” to be a backhanded compliment, the equivalent of saying “she’s got a great personality” about a book: it’s unspecific, unimportant and sort of sends the conflict and characters to the backseat.  Granted, I’ve wisened up some and realize that sometimes the worldbuilding is just pretty awesome in a book and it deserves recognition.  After all, characters need to affect the world, but if there’s no world to affect, it’s kind of pointless to be writing in fantasy.  No one wants to hear about how Raygar the Mighty experienced a personal epiphany while filing his taxes in That City That Is Totally Not New York Because We Gave it a Different Name.

But when reading reviews, I’ll occasionally see someone rave about the unique magic system, the complex socio-political structure of a race that never actually does anything, the haunting lyricism of a created language that was once used to write a poem about things that are no longer happening and have no relevance to the plot.  This is great and all, but what’s the point?  If it doesn’t affect the characters, why do we need to know about it?  We don’t and it’s kind of unfair to show us all this awesome lore and backstory and then tell us it’s never going to be used in the book in a meaningful way.  Worldbuilding without characters is a fancy playground behind an electric fence: it looks awesome, but you can’t do much more than look.

And this is what we have to learn from tie-in fiction.  We should not look at it as kiddie or lame or unoriginal, but rather we should use it as a study as to how to make complex worlds apply to the characters.  We should see why we care about Enus the Wise if his magic is the same as everyone else’s magic.  We should see what makes Boris the Barbarian worth more than his axe.  We should see what makes these characters, insignificant and limited, work in a world that continues to move regardless of their deed.

If that doesn’t convince you: a tie-in fiction author won the David Gemmel Legend Award.  So…you know…

Est sularus oth mithas, bitches.

Updates: Deadlines, Facebook and the Wrath of Goodkind

Kind of a slow day today, but there are some things we should go over.  I was asked by many (one) people (person) about the ARC Giveaway Contest (shameless self-promotion) and decided (was forced) to elaborate (fling poo) for (at) them (the jerk).  This shall be done in the form of a Q&A with myself, the very same defense that both exonerated me from many civil libel suits and once got me imprisoned in a Turkish asylum.

Thanks for coming to the Q&A, Sam.

Thanks for having me, buy my book!

Okay, you little corporate whore.  Let’s save it for later, eh?  First of all, tell us how long the ARC Giveaway Contest extends to.

We’d like to have all submissions in by August 22nd, 2010, when the Hurlyburly’s done, so that our celebrity guests can have adequate time to judge them.

Woah, celebrity guests?  I thought you were judging these yourself!

I have never done an honest day’s work in my life and, as you know, I am terrified of having an opinion I might have to one day defend.  Rather, Mark Newton, Joe Abercrombie and Sarah Pinborough have volunteered to help out by choosing their favorites.  Of course, when I say “volunteer,” I mean that one of them is tied up in my basement.  Guess which one and you might win a prize!

I would, but every time I email you, I keep getting ignored!  Why won’t you reply to me?  Is it my face?  It’s my face, isn’t it?  Do you want to punch me in the face right now?

Kind of, but that’s not the reason I don’t respond!  Mostly, it is because I am a SUPREMELY BUSY MAN and I have no idea what to say beyond “hey, thanks broseph.  Yo, do you remember Ducktales?”  And that’s just going to lead to a conversation that will sap my resources intensely, since local legend confirms that the only way to keep Sam Sykes from stealing your face is to talk with him about Ducktales until the sun comes up and turns him to stone.

But anyway, remember that your reasons are all being noted and Sam Sykes loves you very much.

Well, that’s pretty good.  Will my one good reason be published on your blog that has HUNDREDS OF VERY IMPORTANT PEOPLE VISITING IT AS WE SPEAK?

I don’t know, man!  Probably, if it’s really good!

That’s all the time we have for today.  Thanks for coming, Sam, you Sexual Lorax, you.

Why, thanks, pal.

Anyway, onto other business…

YOU MIGHT HAVE NOTICED that the Facebook link on the main page, thanks to the infinite patience of Jeremiah Tolbert, ACTUALLY LEADS TO A FACEBOOK PAGE!  HOLY GOD!  DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?

We can be FBBFFBs (the last ‘B’ stands for ‘BFYOBFB’).  And more importantly, you can see me threaten other authors who are also on Facebook!  Holy crap!

Yes!  Go befriend me now.  If you’re a pornbot, though, you better be nasty.

And finally, we have our first victim contender to the Bravest Challenge reporting in on his challenge!  You might remember that Graeme Flory was supposed to read Terry Goodkind’s Wizard’s First Rule. He has finally reported back in on this mighty challenge.  The result?

FAILURE.

I gave it my best shot but ‘Wizard’s First Rule’ has gone in the ‘charity box’, possibly never to be seen in this house again. I really wanted that ‘Raging Rothfuss’ award as well… But you know what? Sometimes life really is too short to be plugging away on something that just isn’t going to work for you.

Well, at least you tried, Graeme!  And for that, we who are about to read worse, salute you!

As you were, soldier!

Who Do You Own?

I haven’t posted anything in a bit.  I would apologize, but John Scalzi once told me two things: “don’t touch my sandwich” and “never apologize for not posting content.”  So I’m not going to apologize.  No, instead, you should apologize to me for not bringing this crazy shit to my attention earlier…you jerk.

Anyway, if you ever hang out on Westeros, that Hive of Literature and Villainy, you may have seen what I refer to lovingly as a Nerd Fight which reached the point where it could be accurately described as “Balls-Out” as Wert, Pat, Speculative Horizons and a Dribble of Ink went into a sort of a Final Fight free-for-all in which Richard Morgan was clearly Mayor Mike Haggar and Wert was probably that weird guy based off of Andre the Giant with a purple leopard-spotted tank top…Aidan might have been Jessica.

Ten Sykes Dollars* if you got all of that reference.

I digress, though.  Being far too much of a coward to engage them on their own home turf, I have decided to lift parts of their argument and twist it, as I might slowly twist a person locked in my basement through years of psychological torment**, to my own horrifying ends.  Specifically, these ideas as voiced by Richard Morgan sent the small turtle that is my brain chasing the carrot tied to the stick.  Behold:

There’s the possessive controlling dynamic that Harrison mentions in his essay – as if everything written under the vast, vague umbrella of fantasy belongs to you, can be pigeonholed by you, and then assigned an absolute value depending on how much it ticks your boxes.

…

Said vast field of fantasy is now, it seems, to be divided into two camps (reminds me of the joke about there being two kinds of people; those who make sweeping generalisations and those who don’t), and if a book doesn’t land in one or the other, why, ’tis shit.

You might recall, when I wrote my past blog Voices of the Dead, at being annoyed at the apparent inevitability of comparing authors who have nothing to do with each other beyond writing in the same field.  This essentially follows the same formula, though angled toward a slightly different philosophy, that being the sort of latent tribalism that seems to pervade a lot of fantasy readership.

It’s no secret that George R.R. Martin has a lot of fans.  Nor is it any secret exactly why he has a lot of fans.  He writes excellent books, he’s a very personable fellow and he takes the time to share an intimate embrace, complete with back-rub, with anyone who asks for it (and sometimes if they don’t ask for it) at his signings.

Likewise, there are a few authors out there for whom it is no secret why they don’t have a lot of fans.  Usually, it’s not the quality of their writing.  More often, it’s the fact that they tend to be complete jerks in person, online and refuse to give even the simplest of hugs if you very specifically state that you’d really like one*** because you’ve had a really hard day and the bills are piling up and there’s so much work to do and the guy in the basement escaped and you just feel like you could…

…sorry, what was I saying?

Like Morgan says, we wind up with two camps: “Our Guy” and “Not Our Guy.”

You can see this as the case in the linked thread, where some people cite a dislike of M. John Harrison’s Viriconium as being caused by a dislike of M. John Harrison.  I don’t know the man personally, but I doubt he minds if a few people don’t like him.  Not that he doesn’t want to be liked, he probably just doesn’t begrudge some people not liking him for who he is.  And indeed, there’s nothing wrong with a personal distaste for an author affecting one’s decision to buy his book (not that I’d know anything about that, what with my personality being so sparkling it actually blinds people).

What becomes a problem is when we stop having readers and start having tribes.  And I don’t mean one of those charming tribes you see on the National Geographic channel where the men tie their organs to their belts and the women don’t wear shirts and you think that’s kind of hot but you can’t tell anyone because seriously man.  No, these are more the tribes that live deep underground, that fear the sun and gather around their idols, groaning long and vicious chants, kidnapping intrepid explorers and offering them up as sacrifices to their dread gods.

It’s about the time we start lashing people to altars that we have a problem.

It’s about the time “Our Guy” becomes “The Only Guy” that we have a serious problem.

This, I believe, is what Morgan was referring to.  We have our favorite authors and that’s great; you should absolutely have authors you prefer over all others, otherwise you’re just not having enough fun.  But we should also be open to other authors, to new stories and new experiences.  And by “open,” as I’ve said in Voices of the Dead, I mean enjoying them without saying “HE’S NO MARTIN.”  But beyond even that, we should be able to applaud the books that didn’t work for us, so long as they pushed the genre forward, be it by a new breed of character that we found offputting, a new setting that we found too alien, a new style that just rubbed us the wrong way.

This is probably one of the most diverse genres out there.  We’ve got everything from Old Weird to New Weird, Black and White to Black and Blacker, Epic to Heroic to Flawed to Gritty to Vaguely Fetish Fueled.  And it’s a genre that thrives on innovation and experimentation.  To cling to one author like a rock in a rising tide is not only harmful to you, it’s harmful to the genre as a whole as it discourages authors from trying new stuff and publishers from buying them.

China Mieville (I can’t figure out how to do accents on my keyboard.  Sorry, China) is widely regarded to be one of the most innovative and creative authors out there.  His books don’t always work for people (and indeed, he was considered to be one of the least accessible authors for awhile), but they were always lauded for their creativity and innovation, as well they should be.  Now imagine what would happen if forums were filled with how much they despised his style, him as a person.  Imagine if his inbox was filled with messages from various anonymous sources saying how much they wished he would write more like another author.

No need to imagine at all!  I actually did spam him with several throwaway accounts, mostly from the Ozarks, asking him to write more like Dan Brown.  After learning that, after running out of tears of actual salt, he began weeping tears of blood, I sent him an email under my true name saying: “SURPRISE!”

…he was not soothed.

…he filed a lawsuit.

…Joe Abercrombie is representing me.  We are dead.

Anyway, am I saying you should give a cuddly, “good for you/A for Effort/at least you tried” pat-on-the-back/reach-around for every book out there?  Absolutely not.  Some books just don’t work and don’t add anything to the conversation.  Some books do add something to the genre but you find it completely reprehensible.  And sometimes, stuff is just blarghgalgadnadnefbdhghdfjffgggggghgppphhhhbbbbt.

Nor am I saying you should rush out and buy something you’re certain you’ll hate.

What I am saying is that we shouldn’t be so quick to flee to our idols.  We should be more willing to accept things that aren’t quite our style.  We should still have “Our Guy,” but we can also have other guys.  It’s a liberated society, after all!  You can have as many guys as you want!  Big guys, thick guys, small guys, guys that are only three inches…

I know what you’re asking yourself.  “Is he still talking about books?”

Stay tuned.

*Worthless at all participating and non-participating locations, except Blake Charlton’s house.

**Seriously, Phil, breaking out was not at all cool.  Come back and I promise I’ll stop running episodes of Doogie Howser in the cell.

***Sam Sykes will always give you a hug if you ask for it and he is physically capable.  He’s the man who “cares too much,” according to Nebraska police.