In Troubled Times: Facing the Problem Squarely

Back in 2016, I posted a series of blogs entitled In Troubled Times. 
Today it seems fitting to remind myself that I survived then and will survive now. These thoughts are from 

Monday, December 5, 2016.

A few days ago, John Scalzi wrote in his blog, Whatever, “…the Trump administration and its enablers are going to make a mad gallop out of the gate to do a whole bunch of awful things, to overwhelm you with sheer volume right at the outset.”

Pretty shocking statement, huh? That was my first reaction. My second was that Scalzi is very likely correct. All the signs are there…all the signs that in my panic-stricken moments, I want to ignore so hard they go away.

My next reaction was to surrender my mind to a gazillion chattering monkeys, each with her own idea of What Must Be Done Right Now. I can work myself into a downright tizzy in no time this way. Not only that, I can paralyze myself with too many alternatives and no way to prioritize them, jumbling actions I might take with those that are impossible or unsafe (crazy-making) for me.

Any of this sound familiar?

It’s all based on a false choice. I don’t have to either prepare now for the logically impending “awful things” or play ostrich on the river in Egypt. But in order to see other, saner alternatives, I must first evict the Monkeys of Panic so I can regard the situation calmly.

We’re in for some hard times, and knowing that is a relief.

At first, it seems counter-intuitive to say that acknowledging we are in for some dark times comes as a relief. The relief is because instead of nebulous fears running rampant, bursting into exaggeration and melodrama at every turn, vulnerable to any sort of fact-free hype, I’ve stepped away from the emotional storm. I’m facing the problem squarely, as my tai chi teacher used to say. We’re in for some tough times, and likely there will be a whole slew of bad news in the early months of 2017.

When I’m no longer trying to deny or distort the way things are (for example, Trump’s cabinet choices and what is known about them, or what he has said he will or won’t do) I not only become calmer, but better able to see things I might do, alone or in solidarity with like-minded folks.

This is based on a simple truth that in order to act effectively, I need to be sane. I can’t be sane if I’m bouncing off the walls at every headline on social media. I could, of course, disengage entirely from social media and refuse to read or listen to any sort of news. But I don’t want to do that. I want to stay engaged, but in a mindful way. I want to know what I’m up against. Once I stop fighting the reality of what that is, I free myself to use my energy and time in productive ways. I don’t know exactly what form these tough times will take, but I don’t need to prepare for every twist and turn. I can trust my ability to respond appropriately and creatively.

NaNoWriMo Thoughts

National Novel Writing Month is upon us. It's an international month-long event in which

folks pound out the first draft of a novel, posting the progress, getting lots of cheers every step of the way, and exchanging writing advice. Lots of friends will be doing it, many of them regular participants.

Alas, or perhaps not alas, not me.

I always have specific reasons. This year, I'm very close to finishing a revision of an on-spec novel that I've been working on for some years now, in the time gaps between contracted projects. I'm on the brink of the climactic scene, which spans 4 or 5 chapters and brings together everything that has gone before with a bang and a few nifty twists. If I nail it, the book works. Needless to say, this book not only haunts my every waking hour but has inveigled itself into my dreams. Not the story, mind you -- the writing and revising of it.

I began this book back in 2013 on a lark, one of those what-if ideas that just takes off on its own. It had been a long time since I'd embarked upon an unoutlined, unplanned, seat-of-the-pants story, especially one of novel length. I had not realized how much my creative spirit needed what I call taking a flying leap off the cliff of reality. Working on my netbook, I continued the draft while taking care of my best friend as she died of cancer. The story, with all its open possibilities -- and it had quite a few surprises for me -- gave me an emotional refuge so that I could return, "batteries recharged," to be present with my friend and her family.

Am I going to set this aside and lose all the momentum I've regained during this revision?

Book Review: Not Fairyland

 And Put Away Childish Things, by Adrian Tchaikovsky (Solaris)

Adrian Tchaikovsky’s And Put Away Childish Things is a fresh new take on the subgenre in which the beloved children’s fantasy novels are real and open to visitors. In this case, middling successful actor Harry Brodie has grown up in the shadow of his grandmother’s wildly successful and much-loved “Underhill” book series. There’s something “off” about the world and its characters—from the saccharine child heroes to the spooky, dangerously contrarian clown to the faun who never learns from his mistakes. Harry shrugs it off as being “children’s literature.” Now, on the cusp of the Covid pandemic, Harry’s life as a failing kids’ TV presenter takes an unexpected turn and he ends up captive to a group of seriously disturbed folks calling themselves the “Underlings.” They’re convinced that Underhill is real, that Harry is the rightful heir, and that he is capable of taking them all to this magical kingdom.

They’re not wrong, though. But when Harry arrives in Underhill, he finds a world in disarray—decaying, abandoned, and failing. At its heart, in the castle that was once its crowning glory, a dangerous secret.

I raced through the book. I loved the layers of theme and emotional resonance. It is as much about Harry’s longing for meaning in his life as it is about an adventure in a childhood magical realm. Tchaikovsky gives voice to characters whose only purpose has been to entertain one specific reader. Created with immutable flaws, they strive for agency as their world deteriorates around them. I couldn’t help thinking that good fantasy, whether for children or adults, succeeds through emotional resonance at a deeper level. Placeholder characters serve the plot but have no inner psychological life; they cannot aspire to anything greater meaning than their superficial roles. Harry’s “hero’s journey” demands that he shift from an “I-It” relationship to Underhill to one of “I-Thou,” extending both compassion and responsibility to the magical realm and its folk. My favorite of these was the former-villain spider, Smackersnack, who has found her way into the real world as a computer programmer and abdicates the role of eternal monster. I rather like her.

Recommended.

Book Review: Murder on a Jovian Colony

The Mimicking of Known Successes, by Malka Older (Tor)

I love the premise of this novella: a murder mystery set on a colony circling Jupiter, the last remnants of human civilization after the collapse of Earth’s ecology.  Against the backdrop of the storm-wracked gas giant, linked platforms grow crops, house communities, and provide nooks of academic research aimed at devising the perfect ecology once it is safe to re-seed Earth with life. Cool, huh?

When a man goes missing and it’s feared he has either jumped or been pushed off a platform, to fall endlessly in Jupiter’s atmosphere, the case falls to Investigator Mossa. This leads her to her old lover, Pleiti, a scholar of Earth’s pre-collapse ecosystems. The two of them are on the chase while exploring the resurrection of their old relationship. There are lots of plot twists and revelations along the way.

Despite the wildly exotic setting, I struggled to connect with the characters and their motivations.  Mossa is enigmatic and aloof, emotionally opaque; that’s supposed to be part of her character. The contrast with Pleiti, who is highly emotional, shows how their different strengths combine to solve the mystery. However, Mossa’s distant, intellectual approach is not limited to her own viewpoint and work. It’s hard to imagine her as having feelings about anything. This bleeds into the crux of Pleiti’s work, indeed the decision the entire Jovian colony must make: what is the best way to design a rejuvenated Earth ecology? Put together known species, available in platform zoos, and let adaptation create new species and relationships, taking the risk that the combinations will fail? This approach would save enormous amounts of time, hastening the return to Earth. Or meticulously craft a system that replicates what thrived on Earth (“the mimicking of known successes” in the title), even though you can never be certain you got it right? And that it would take far longer, risking the extinction of preserved samples?

It’s a fascinating question, and the division of opinions drives the murder plot. Or ought to, because it’s presented as a distant, academic discussion, as dry and dusty as the university chambers. Therein lies my issue with this book. There’s too much relative emotional weight on the will-they-won’t-they relationship and almost none on the question upon which rests the fate of a future return to Earth. Nevertheless, the setting is fresh and original, the prose is clear, and the plot moves right along.

 

Guest Post: A Story’s Genesis: The Wind’s Kiss, by Dave Smeds

Readers often ask where the idea for a story came from. Here, veteran fantasy author Dave Smeds offers a peek behind the scenes in the creation of his wonderful short fiction piece, "The Wind's Kiss." Its first publication was in Lace and Blade 4, which I edited. It's a marvelous story, exquisitely written, full of pitch-perfect heart. Now it's also available in Dave's collection Swords, Magic, and Heart (see the cover below). 

A Story’s Genesis: The Wind’s Kiss
by Dave Smeds

The headstone — as you can see in the photograph I’ve included here — stood alone, at least thirty paces from any other marker in the little one-acre graveyard. Still, it was there, intact and still upright, and I was grateful for that fact. The cemetery had been used for less than four decades, from its founding in 1881 to the final burial in 1920. Once the small chapel on the accompanying acre ceased to exist, no one consigned their loved ones to rest there. The place became so forgotten that its decorative lilac bushes grew into a huge patch, concealing nearly all of the stones. People would drive right and be unaware of the nature of the site, even though they could have thrown a tennis ball out a window and the ball could easily have landed on one of the graves. Nowadays local volunteers keep the shrubbery trimmed and mow the turf. If not for that, even I, who knew where to go, might have struggled to find it.

I had always meant to stop there, sooner or later. The problem was, I had kept saying to myself that I would do it when I happened to be passing through Nebraska. But given that I live in California and always have, I reached my sixtieth birthday having found no occasion in my adult life when I had cause to be “just passing through” Nebraska. My path-of-least-resistance approach was inadequate. I had to make the goal a bucket-list item.

In 2016, I was in Kansas City, MO to attend the World Science Fiction Convention. My wife joined me on the final day, and the next morning off we went on a long, snaking course to visit family graves in not only Nebraska, but South Dakota and Iowa as well — all three of them states outside the scope of previous explorations on my part, or hers. We arrived at the lonely little graveyard on the third day, reaching it about ten minutes after we had rolled through the forlorn village of Creighton, population 1125. After paying our respects, we would go north about three miles to Winnetoon, population 63. Vacant as those communities were, we would see encounter smaller ones the next day, including, as we crossed into South Dakota, the hamlet of Wewela, population FIVE.