Guest Post: Katharine Kerr on "Boys' Books"

Boys’ Books

by Katharine Kerr

I was lucky enough to grow up in a family of readers.  Admittedly, on my mother’s side of the family, some of them mostly read the Bible or religious works.  Others, like my mother and grandmother, loved the “sweet” Romances of the period.  My uncles loved Westerns and police thrillers.  My father’s parents, on the other hand, were serious Leftists and read serious Leftist books, like DAS KAPITAL in the original German.  Both sides, however, believed in reading aloud to children.  They also believed in public libraries.

From the time I was big enough to walk the ten blocks or so to our local branch, my grandmother and I made a weekly trip to the library.  She loaded up on genre reading for her, and I loaded up on books from the children’s section, mostly animal stories, which I particularly loved.  As soon as I could read, I read a lot, well beyond that illusory category, “grade level”.  That’s when the trouble started.  Not from my grandparents, I hasten to add, but from the other adults around me.

When I was an older child and young teen-ager, back in the 1950s, I began to hear entirely too often, “You shouldn’t be reading that book.  It’s not for you.”  No, I hadn’t picked out a book with too many big words or too much sex, nothing from the “Adult” section of our public library, no Leftist tracts, either.  I had committed the sin of liking Boys’ Books.

It may be hard to imagine now, but there used to be fixed categories of Boys’ Books and Girls’ Books.  Boys got science fiction, adventure stories, historical stories of battles and exploration.  Girls got junior Romances, stories of girls helping others or setting up their own homes, horse stories, and . . . well, I never found much else in that section of the library.  Some were well written, like the “Anne of Green Gables” books or the “Flicka” horse stories.  Most struck me as utter crap, even at thirteen, particularly the junior Romances, such as the Rosamund de Jardin “Marcy” series.  Oh yes, I can’t forget the forerunners of “self help” books.  Those available for girls in the 1950s centered around “how to look pretty and get a boyfriend.”  I never noticed any self help in the Boys’ section.  They, apparently, didn’t need advice.

What I wanted were the adventures, the battles, and the science fiction.  Among the Boys’ Books, I discovered Roy Chapman Andrews and Robert Heinlein’s YA novels, along with a lot of lesser writers whose names, alas, I have forgotten but whom I loved at the time.  When I went to the library desk to check these books out, the voices started.  “Are you getting those for your brother?  No?  Why do you want to read those?  They’re for boys.  You should look in the Girls’ section.”  No librarian actually prevented me from taking the books home, mind.  That was reserved for my mother.  “Why are you reading that junk?” was one of her favorite phrases.  “It’s not for girls.  Take those back.  Get some good books.”

I read most of Heinlein’s YA books while sitting in the library.  Why risk taking them home and getting nagged?  When as a teen, I graduated to SF for grown-ups, the disapproval escalated, too.  My mother helpfully tried to get me to read proper female literature by checking out books for me.  I dutifully read them -- hell, I’d read anything at that age, from cereal boxes on up -- but I never liked them.  Finally, she gave up.

Guest Post: Writer Brain: Artificial Not So Intelligence, by Judith Tarr

Writer Brain: Artificial Not So Intelligence 

by Judith Tarr

The authorsphere has been rumbling for a while about the hot! new! shiny! tech! that has all the bros so excited they’re shoving it into everything and making it difficult to impossible to opt out. Generative AI is supposed to save the world. Take the work out of work. Replace the struggling human brain with a set of prompts. Instant art, hardly any waiting.

This isn’t the artificial sentience of Murderbot or the Justice of Toren or even Star Trek’s Computer. It’s basically a wood chipper, but for words and images. Dump them all in, hope something useful comes out.

The problem is, at this stage in its evolution, what’s mostly coming out is garbage. A book on mushrooms that labels a deadly variety safe and delicious. Sources for academic papers that don’t exist, or are garbled or distorted. “Art” that’s off in subtle and not so subtle ways—humans with extra fingers, rooms with weirdly angled walls and ceilings, skies that never existed on this planet. It’s getting so you can’t trust anything you see online.

It's not just that the thing is not ready for prime time. It’s that it’s being pushed hard, and it’s being backed with buckets and buckets of money. Billions. For basically faery gold.

And even worse than that, it needs massive amounts of energy to run. They’re actually talking about reopening nuclear plants in order to generate enough power for the huge surge of AI that the big tech companies are avidly investing in.

All of that is bad in the way of absolute decadence. A culture so far along in its devolution that it indulges in orgies of extravagance signifying effectively nothing.

So what’s the point?

Or rather, where’s it all coming from? What’s going into the chipper? How is it being trained to come out with its confident pronouncements of, all too often, deceptive nonsense?

That’s where the authorsphere, and the artistsphere along with it, is raising some good and holy hell. Because authors’ and artists’ work is being scraped as it’s called, swept up and dumped into the chipper. And it’s not being acknowledged or compensated. It’s being stolen, in a word. As one bro lamented, “How can we make money off AI if we have to pay for the source material?”

[Guest Post] Lara Ferrari on Building Authentic Relationships With Readers

Lara Ferrari (of Lemon Friday) has marvelous, insightful suggestions for how writers can create and nourish connections with our readers. Actually, many of these apply to other relationships, too! The following are from a recent article by Lara:

Here are 12 ways you can build personal connections and authentic relationships with readers (in a way AI could never):

Relatable, real-life struggles

1. Readers don't want 'perfect'; they want 'real'. So don't be scared to open up about something you're currently finding hard.

2. If you've overcome something difficult and emerged on the other side – good for you! – celebrate and share your inspirational story with your followers.

Community-centered conversations

3. Readers (like everyone else) love to feel included – so involve your community in the creation of your book. Use your captions to share exclusive tidbits and then ask for input, ideas and feedback.

4. Who doesn't like giving their opinion?! Prove to your readers that you genuinely care what they think by asking for their takes on a book or life-related topic.

Honest insights into your writing process

5. Getting a glimpse into an author's writing process is like sneaking a peek behind the curtains of a magic show. Every writer is different (and most readers are nosy!) so open up about how your magic is made.

 
6. Don't be afraid to talk about the good, fun, exciting stuff and the challenging, frustrating, heartbreaking stuff. It's a great way to build human connections – and intrigue for your book.

"On a mission to simplify book marketing for writers who’d rather be writing, Lemon Friday founder Lara Ferrari has personally helped over 100 authors and aspiring authors grow engaged communities of readers online. Her handy tips, tools and templates are designed to streamline your marketing so you can build a legion of super-fans… before your book is even written."

The link to get the full download is: https://lemonfriday.myflodesk.com/future-proof

Here's a reel of Lara talking about AI and writers. I hope you find her as delightful as I do!

GUEST POST: Lillian Csernica on Finding Happiness in Writing

I’m delighted to welcome author Lillian Csernica, who writes eloquently from the heart about her life. She says the following essay “embodies the main theme of my NaNoWriMo project, Keep Getting Up.”

 

HAPPINESS: A WELCOME STRANGER

By Lillian Csernica

 

If you ask me where I make room for my happiness, it will take me a minute or two to come up with a reply. Not because I don't know where I keep it, but because in a very real sense, I don't have any to keep. I live with Major Depressive Disorder. It's not like I get depressed every now and then. I'm depressed all the time. I have to fight my way out of it to a state of mind that approximates the kind of baseline cheerfulness that gets most people through their day. The specific name for the no-happiness part of my condition is anhedonia. That's the inability to experience pleasure from normal activities such as watching a funny movie or playing with a pet. If that sounds sad, it is. Some days it goes beyond sad all the way into tragic. I sit there and watch life go by. I can see the colors and hear the sounds, but I can't feel anything other than depression. The tastes, the smells, the textures are there but they don't connect to the pleasure center in my brain.

I've had to actively seek out qualified people who taught me the skills I need to change my perceptions and reframe my thinking. I might not be able to feel happiness, but I take great pleasure in other people's joy. Here are two examples:

• My son John just finished taking a class at the library on using a digital camera and laptop to make movies. He learned how to use some new software and do some interesting things with the storyboard pages he'd spent so much time drawing. John doesn't have a completed animation project yet, but he did master a new part of the process in just one hour. I put the experience in context for him, explaining how the animators he admires had to learn step-by-step methods as well. John is proud of himself.
• Michael, my older son, just brought home his latest award-winning art project. He and his aide had kept it in his classroom until summer school ended because it's a triptych with two of the panels created by two of Michael's classmates. It shows a street scene right off the beach in Capitola, done in multimedia that includes paint and crayon and some glitter. While Michael didn't make it into the Top Three for this year's school district art contest, he and his team received ribbons for Awards of Merit. All of us at home made much over Michael winning his fourth award for an art project.

 I think I'm the closest to real happiness that I can get these days when I write. When I get into the creative trance, all sense of time passing vanishes. I leave behind the sorrows of the real world and function within the world of my story. I am on that intuitive wavelength where I'm processing structure and characterization and setting and dialogue all the way down to the microwriting level of word choice and punctuation placement. I could be a gem cutter working with the magnifiers and the precision tools that allow me to cut a stone into a solitaire, a baguette, a marquise, whatever best suits the particular gem. I reach into the story itself for its reality, its shape, the right way to show off its color, cut, and clarity. There is no pleasure like the pleasure of finding the exact word and putting it in the ideal setting.

I have to work hard at making room for happiness in my mind and in my life. Every day I have to survive in an environment of ongoing tragedy, knowing that because of their disabilities, both of my sons will not enjoy everything life has to offer them. I've learned that I can't hold on to happiness. Life changes too quickly, and some of the changes are permanent. I've learned that I have to take medication to correct my brain chemistry so I can get out of bed in the morning and get through the demands of each day. I've learned that I can't let my mental and emotional room be taken up by negative feelings and old baggage. Most of all, I've learned that if I just keep still and be in this present moment, happiness will wave at me or throw me a smile. Once in a while, it will even come and sit beside me so we can share the moment.

 

Lillian Csernica writes fantasy, romance, and horror. Her short stories have appeared in Weird Tales, Fantastic Stories, and Jewels of Darkover. Her Kyoto Steampunk short stories can be found in the Clockwork Alchemy anthologies Twelve Hours Later, Thirty Days Later, Some Time Later and Next Stop On The #13. SHIP OF DREAMS, an historical romance, is set in the Caribbean of 1725 during the Golden Age of piracy. A genuine California native born in San Diego, Lillian resides in the Santa Cruz mountains with her two sons and three cats. Visit her at lillian888.wordpress.com.

Guest Blog: Italian Author Luca Azzolini Takes On Roman History

 

History offers a rich, fascinating treasure trove of people, events, and customs. Today, I'm delighted to host Italian writer Luca Azzolini as he shares with us his journey from a kid who was curious about everything to the author of a new trilogy, "Romulus."

The luck of living in a country like Italy is that you can touch history every time, everywhere. We cannot avoid seeing it, experiencing it, touching it or breathing it. Everything around us tells us about a mythical and distant past. And in some places you can live this even stronger than in others.

Mantua is the city where I live, and it is a stratification of different eras that coexist with each other. There are the remains of the Etruscan age, the Roman ruins, the medieval castle, the Renaissance palaces and squares.

I think my love for history began here. I read as much as I could. Especially essays. I realize I've always been a weird kid! Which 12-year-old would passionately study the contents of Canopic jars? Which twelve-year-old would be passionate about the genealogies of the great noble dynasties of Italy? From the Gonzaga, to the Este and to the Sforza.

Well, I was that kind of kid!

The love for novels came immediately after. There was a key moment that I remember very well. At the age of fourteen I faced a crucial choice. Of those that can change your life forever. I wanted two books and could only buy one. I was very torn.

The first was an essay by a well-known Italian astrophysicist, Margherita Hack, whose title I no longer remember.

The second was a novel, in a brightly colored cover, by an author unknown to me at the time: The Planet Savers, by Marion Zimmer Bradley.

I chose the astrophysics essay. I stayed for more than an hour in the bookshop with that book in hand.

Then I went back to the shelves, put down the essay, and took The Planet Savers away with me.

I owe a lot to that novel. Reading that book, and the whole Darkover saga, was perhaps the most beautiful, adventurous and exciting journey of my life. Not only I discovered a distant planet where I felt at home, but I also realized I wanted to write novels. Since then I have set my whole life on that choice. At the age of nineteen I chose a faculty at the University of Verona that would allow me to discover “as many stories as possible, and as many lives as possible.” My choice fell on Art History. I never imagined that, over a decade later, that choice would pay back.

Guest Blog: Tim Susman on Alternate History

Today I'm delighted to present Tim Susman, whose queer furry alternate history novel, The Revolution and the Fox, released on January 15, 2021. Here are his thoughts on alternate history.

When writing alternate history stories, I think sometimes about Dean Koontz’s Lightning, in which a character uses time travel to prevent a horrible accident. But every time they stop it, it happens again in different circumstances at a different time, so they end up jumping around and preventing it over and over. “Destiny,” we are told, “struggles to reassert the pattern that was meant to be.”

Stephen King also personifies history in 11-22-63. The main character, traveling in time to attempt to prevent President Kennedy’s assassination, is told that he will be fighting “the past,” which “doesn’t want to be changed” (disclaimer: I have seen the mini-series but not read the book). Kennedy’s assassination is viewed as a lynchpin that will change history beyond its ability to “push back,” but the implication from both of these books is that it is very hard to change history (to be fair, these are more generally time travel books than alternate history books).

Most people who might believe in destiny would attribute that force to a guiding intelligence behind it, a religious belief. Absent that force, or at least the focused interest of that force, there is a temptation when writing alternate history to err too far in the other direction. The famously named “butterfly effect” encourages us to believe that a small change in one place can spawn massive changes around the world. It may be true that a single person making a different decision at a specific, important time can change the course of the world—one is reminded of Lieutenant Colonel Petrov, who may have prevented a nuclear exchange in the Soviet False Alarm incident of 1983—and events like those are prime fodder for alternate history writers. But when looking at larger world trends, movements built by dozens or hundreds of people, it is harder to divert them with a single decision, and the fictional force of “destiny” does not seem quite so strange to imagine. Rather than being a supernatural force, it is more obviously the result of the collective thinking of a group of people, dozens to thousands or more.

History is, at its core, the story of people. This seems like an obvious statement, but when most of us learn history in school, we learn names and dates and very little about the people behind those names. So when building an alternate history around a specific event, I research the people who shaped and were shaped by that event, and how they might have reacted had the event turned out differently. People are stubborn and tend to cling to their beliefs. So even if, say, the British Empire had access to sorcerers that helped them quell the 1776 rebellion before it properly got started, that wouldn’t change the minds of a generation of American colonists—or their children—who felt that their proper place was as an equal on the world stage.

A minor bit of brag

My post, Contrary Writing Advice: Don't Finish This Story!, which appeared earlier in this blog, has been reposted to the blog of Science Fiction Writers of America..You read it here first!

Happy writer smile, and wishes for many playful, delicious story beginnings to you all.

GUEST BLOG: Steve Harper on Writing Steampunk

THE SPEED OF STEAM, by Steve Harper

A couple weeks ago on a Friday afternoon, a file landed in my email. Big one. It was the copyedited manuscript for THE IMPOSSIBLE CUBE, the sequel to THE DOOMSDAY VAULT (which is now on sale and has mad scientists and zombies in it). Could I go through the manuscript and pop it back within ten days?

Whoa.

A number of writing blogs have already commented on the speed of writing these days, how just a few years ago, I would have received a big pile of paper in the mail with red marks all over it, and after I went though it, I would have had to make a trip to the post office. Now I read and upload a file, yada yada yada.

I just want to add that it feels wrong.  For steampunk, I mean.

See, I think part of steampunk's appeal is the way it slows us down. Steampunk puts us in a world before telephones and jet planes. When communicating with someone on the other side of town meant dashing off a postcard. When newspapers lived by the telegraph wire. When international travelers went by train or ship or even dirigible, and going around the world took eighty days instead of eighty hours. When a new advancement in processing speed meant the Royal Mail had worked out a more efficient sorting system. Our world goes so fast, it's nice to take a break in a place in which everything goes a little slower.

As a result, it feels like all steampunk should be written at a rolltop desk on a big, clunky typewriter with a sticky H and a crooked M while a Victrola plays scratchy music in the background.  Manuscripts should be bundled into boxes tied with brown string.  Letters to one's editor should be scribbled with a fountain pen and dropped into the afternoon post.

And yet, I flip words into a 2-terrabyte computer with dual-core processor hooked up to the Internet via high-speed DSL cable modem while four speakers croon a mix by Danny Elfman, and I toss letters to my editor into the aether of the Internet  It makes me feel out of sorts and wrong.

Not wrong enough to make write the long way, mind. Anachronism does have its limits.

But I'm a writer with a good imagination. So when I write steampunk, in my head my computer becomes a typewriter and my contact lenses become spectacles. My sweatshirt becomes a tweed jacket and my study with central heat becomes a drafty garret. My dog and my pot of tea become . . .

Well. I suppose not everything has to change.


Steven Harper usually lives at http://www.theclockworkempire.com . His steampunk novel THE DOOMSDAY VAULT, first in the Clockwork Empire series, hits the stores in print and electronic format November 1.