Fading Ink and Fresh Authors

Stumbled across a bit of quirky literary news the other day. You know how it’s so terribly difficult for new authors to get their stuff read? Well, some clever Argentinian fellows recon they’ve figured out a way to deal with that problem, with the “The Book that Can’t Wait”, an anthology of up and coming South American writers that simply won’t allow you to “read it some other time”.

How, I hear you ask, is this accomplished? Does the book make disgruntled noises if you leave it lying for too long? Does it follow you around like a puppy? Not quite. Instead, it’s printed using a special ink that begins to disappear when it comes into contact with air, so that the writing vanishes completely after just two months. It’s sold in a vacuum pack and once it’s been unwrapped, you have no choice but to start reading.

The idea behind this little project is that one of the main problems new authors face is not that people aren’t willing to buy their work, but that they don’t necessarily read it. And if it doesn’t get read, nobody appreciates their literary genius, there’s no word of mouth, sales drop and the writer in question has to buckle down and continue with their day job. Since buying my kindle, I’ve certainly been guilty of this sort of thing myself. My digital library contains a number of books that have remained unread. Maybe, just maybe, “The Book that Can’t Wait” (or “El Libro Que no Puede Esperar”, if you wish) is a potential solution.

I don’t think this is some mind-blowing literary development. I don’t think it’s going to kick off a new publishing phenomenon and I’m not entirely sure it’s gonna to pave the way for the writers of tomorrow. If you read the comments on the YouTube video I’ll link to below, you’ll see it isn’t without criticism. One thing seems certain, though; the book is a hit, and the people published in it have definitely had their stuff read. There is, of course, a slight risk that the writing itself will be eclipsed by the novelty of the idea, but that’s mere conjecture. It’s a fun, quirky concept and it’s breathing some new life into the world of literature.

Dragons n’ stuff: Robin Hobb’s fantastical Rain Wilds Chronicles

I recently polished off the latest installment in Margaret Ogden’s (better known as Robin Hobb) Rain Wilds Chronicles, “City of Dragons”, and thoroughly enjoyed it. If I had to describe the series in a sentence, it would sound something like this; a vibrant, imaginative tale tinged with a classical romanticism and imbued with a great deal of excitement and intrigue, the reader is invited into the intimate thoughts and experiences of a host of brilliantly realized characters as they battle against fate, prejudice, and the casual cruelties of the elements in an attempt to restore a once glorious civilization, and the proud race that brought it into existence. The proud race being, of course, dragons. I wouldn’t say these are books for people who aren’t into speculative fiction – Robin Hobb (I’ll stick to the pseudonym), to me, is someone who writes real classical fantasy. She doesn’t exactly break the mold and she doesn’t make books that transcend the genre. She writes fantasy. But it’s bloody good fantasy, and it’s very well written.

As said, the books are romantic, but they aren’t overly romantic. The general focus tends to be on the personal struggles of the characters, of which there are many. What I really do like about this particular series, however, is the lack of combat. Hobb doesn’t rely on dramatic sword fights or fire flinging sorcerers to make the stories here flow or to wow her readers (as is so often done in high fantasy). Instead, she focuses on the trials and tribulations of the harsh environment her characters must travel through and the politics surrounding their journey. And what, you might ask, is this journey?

The Rain Wilds series takes place in a fictional world of Hobb’s own making, primarily in a region known as the “Rain Wilds”, a swampy forest polluted by aging magic that causes strange, reptilian mutations in its inhabitants. In a distant past, the area was dominated by vast “Elderling” cities, which were frequented by dragons. The Elderlings themselves were draconian humans said to possess magical powers – the best way to describe them (though it doesn’t feel quite right) would be as scaly elves. The Elderings and the dragons were bonded in eldritch ways, and built a complex and sophisticated civilization together. But some disaster befell them, and the dragons disappeared along with their humanoid counterparts, and their cities turned to ruins filled with strange and often mildly dangerous artifacts. At the beginning of the Rain Wilds Chronicles, a new generation of dragons have finally been brought into the world. Unfortunately, they’re stunted and misshapen, having spent much too long in their larval state (as sea serpents). They quickly turn into a menace for the Rain Wilders, who collect a group of outcasts and send them on a fated mission up the acidic river that runs through the region in search of an ancient Elderling city known as Kelsingra. Their task is to keep the dragons alive during the journey. The problem is, nobody knows whether Kelsingra is still intact, or even where it is. Of course, if it could be found and accessed, people could make an awful lot of money out of it…

The Rain Wilds Chronicles are good fun, and though they are fairly straight forward Hobb’s books never feel stale or pastiche – her worlds and characters are wonderfully unique and immersive. A must read for any fantasy fan, especially those who are a bit tired of handsome warriors with enchanted swords 🙂

Narrative Games

I’ve recently started to take an interest in video and computer games again after a rather lengthy hiatus. I used to be quite a little gamer (admittedly not a very good one), but got bored with it all a few years ago and just kind of stopped. Now, however, a mix of YouTube videos and boredom have rekindled my fascination with this – dare I say it? – art form.

Now I do realize that a lot of people don’t recognize games as art, and there are many mainstream games I wouldn’t really classify as such. There’re also many books that I wouldn’t consider to be art. But I’m straying off topic; I’m writing this not as a discussion on the art of video games, but as a quick bit of musing on the narrative potential of games.

I’m fascinated by storytelling. It’s an ancient form of entertainment that’s still very much in demand today. Just think about it; thousands of years ago, our primitive ancestors would gather round campfires in the evening at the end of a long and strenuous day, and they’d listen as people told them stories, passing them orally down the generations. Sometimes, such stories would be acted out as plays. Then printing came along and oral storytelling turned to written storytelling – the author was born. The plays remained, and still do today, though films and television series have also emerged. So now we have those three modes of story telling; written stories, plays, and television. And we all love it. We seem to have some shared love of stories, which I personally think is due to the escapism they make possible. But oral storytelling still exists, both as pure old-school storytelling and also as an aspect of the aforementioned plays, films and TV series. Actually, I’d say oral storytelling is far more popular than its written counterpart nowadays. The vast majority of people enjoy watching TV, but there aren’t so many people who like to read novels on a regular basis. Now, with games, a whole new kind of story has emerged; the interactive story.

How do most games work, after all? You take on the role of a particular character – your avatar – and then work your way through a series of trials, often interspersed with short cut scenes and animations, and often held together by some sort of narrative. When I was a kid, I was in love with the Ratchet and Clank Playstation games. In each one of the three major R n’ C games, you take on the role of a cat-like alien and work your way through a series of levels, each taking place on a separate planet, alongside his trusty robot sidekick (I’m sure you can guess their names). Each game has a story running through it, usually involving an evil villain and saving the universe (sure, not exactly Shakespeare, but they were designed for children). Without this story, the game really would be just a matter of running around and shooting monsters with ridiculously oversized sci-fi weapons, but with it it becomes a genuinely entertaining, immersive experience. It’s like watching a film, except you get to take part in what’s happening, thus making you more emotionally involved and turning you into a participant. In a way, it then becomes your personal story, and I recon the one thing we like better than hearing a story is experiencing one for ourselves. Role playing games, especially online multiplayer ones like World of Warcraft, take things to the next step, truly allowing people to have their own unique adventure and create their very own story.

Unfortunately, the mainstream gaming industry doesn’t appear to be tapping into this as much as it could. The emphasis tends to be on the whole running around and shooting stuff thing, rather than the story. There seems to be a lack of originality and progress where the narrative is concerned (I say “seems” because I’m not actually an expert and I’m kind of talking out of my arse right now). There are, however, lots of cool indie games that are really starting to tap into this, like thatgamecompany’s “Journey”. But I’m not a gaming hipster; I don’t think indie games are examples of gaming perfection. The problem with these games is that they seem prone to forget about the “running around and shooting stuff thing” entirely – they leave out the simple, entertaining stuff and focus entirely on things like originality and story, often creating slightly obscure, overly “intellectual” stuff. If someone could fix this minor polarity issue and find the sweet spot between the two, that would be fantastic. Games really are the next generation of storytelling, or at least that’s what I’m starting to think. But we need some good quality stories!

If this post has inspired you, or if you’re just a bit bored and need something to do, I’ve recently stumbled across a pair of fab little flash games you might be interested in. “Coma” and “Skinny” are both very unique, with a quirky, dark humour pervading them. They’ve been developed by Atmos Games and can be found at atmosgames.com. Suitable even for mature adults, I’d say, so long as they don’t take themselves too seriously 🙂

The Scar: some personal reflections

Hey! It’s been a while since I posted anything here, the primary reason being that I’ve decided I’d rather take a little time to develop as a creative writer before I begin sharing my work in earnest (it’s not fair on me, having to deal with pressure I’m not yet prepared for, and it’s not fair for my readers, who have various half-formed, semi-experimental pieces flung at them without any real consistency in quality and style). Another, more mundane reason is that I’m lazy 🙂

I’m thinking of turning this into something more akin to a non-creative literary blog, with a focus on the philosophy of literature (mostly personal thoughts, I imagine) and non-critical reviews of the books I’m reading. Perhaps a worthy and reasonable goal would be to post something at least whenever I finish a book.

So, to start this new venture off, allow me to talk for a moment about a book that I’m finishing just now. You might’ve heard of China Miéville, or you might not’ve. I wouldn’t have known about him if it weren’t for my English teacher, who apparently travelled with him for a while. If you have heard about him, you’ve probably heard about his Perdido Street Station, which I have come to believe is one of his most famous works. It’s the first book in three independent novels (i.e. not a trilogy, but three separate stories set in the same fictional world) detailing events in Bas-Lag, a fantasy world of Miéville’s making. You might think that would be the first of his books that I’d read, but I started with The Scar instead. This is the second book in the aforementioned Bas-Lag trio, and one that he himself has advertised as a good starting point for someone new to his work. So far – and I’m right at the end of the book – I have no complaints. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading it; Miéville has incorporated elements of fantasy and steampunk to create a unique and magnificently bizarre world, and he’s found the perfect balance between the intellectual and the exciting. I’ve come to find that fantasy novels often read a bit like action movies; fun, cool, but not necessarily highly cerebral. When I was growing up, that was exactly what the doctor ordered – a nice bit of vicarious excitement that wasn’t overly challenging but came in a format that still gave my brain a bit of sustenance. Nowadays, however, my mind has been ruined by years of exacting literary study, and I feel like I’m indulging a guilty pleasure when I sit down with something like Eragon or Harry Potter. People like Miéville (and, of course, the magnificent George R R Martin) offer an alternative; speculative fiction with depth.

I like books that challenge my intellect. But I do sometimes find them a tad dull. At the end of the day, I prefer a decent bit of literary entertainment. With books like The Scar, I’m finding that I can have both. But I digress; what is The Scar?

As said, this is essentially a combination of fantasy and steampunk (or science fiction, if you’d rather avoid specifics). It follows the experiences of Bellis Coldwine and Tanner Sack, along with a host of secondary characters, when they’re abducted and brought to a floating pirate city known as Armada. They’re both prior New Crobuzon citizens who were on their way to a New Crobuzon colony called Nova Esperium; Bellis a linguist running for her life, Tanner a convicted prisoner on his way to becoming a slave after having his body Remade (a common form of punishment in New Crobuzon). The first resents Armada and wants to escape, the second is unbendingly loyal due to the fact that Armada will allow him to live as a free man, something he thought was lost to him. Sure, a floating pirate city might sound a trifle silly to the untrained mind, but the book is absolutely packed with philosophy and politics, the characters are interesting and nicely multi-faceted, and the plot is highly complex. And this isn’t your usual, everyday fantasy world; Bas-Lag is rich, diverse, and above all else astonishingly weird. It’s a celebration of the unorthodox, an exercise in originality, and it’s definitely worth a read.

For those who aren’t familiar with the fantasy/sci-fi genre, The City and The City is apparently a better starting point.

Right, I’ll keep this one short n’ sweet. Good day!