A Certain Slant of Light

More meme answers! littlerhymes asked:

9. If you could wish for a new book from any author, who would it be?

I actually don’t read Sue Grafton’s Kinsey Millhone mysteries, but even so, I would wish for her to finish up the Z book because it’s just so cosmically frustrating to me that she got all the way to Y and then died ONE BOOK before finishing her twenty-six book series. SO CLOSE AND YET SO FAR. Every time Y is for Yesterday comes through the check-in at the library, I die a little inside.

16. What’s more frustrating: plotholes or OOC characters?

The answer for this one varies depending on whether I’m reading fanfic or original works. For fanfic, I tend to find OOC characters more frustrating, partly because it’s easier to say “So-and-so was OOC” when there’s an established character from which this particular version varies, but also because I don’t read very many long fics so there’s not much chance for plotholes.

In original fic, it’s harder to pick - how do you decide that a character is OOC when this version of the character is the canonical character? I didn’t enjoy CAPSLOCK!Harry in Order of the Phoenix, for instance, but just because I didn’t like the direction in which JKR developed the character, that doesn’t mean it’s OOC.

Probably the worst thing is something like the later Obernewtyn books, where the plot falls apart - the term plot holes doesn’t really cover it; it suggests that there’s an entire plot that has a hole in it, when in fact the plot is just holes on holes - and many of the secondary characters lose all their individuality. I was so invested! And it never paid off even a little! And you can’t just backbutton out of the fic and go off to find a better version, because this is the definitive version, and it’s so bad that no one is going to remain invested enough to write fix-it fic!

18. Are you a ‘neatly designed outline’ writer or a ‘fuck it i’ll figure it out as i go’ writer?

Hahaha so I’m sure my life would be easier if I had outlines, but no, I’m definitely more of a “let’s throw it at the wall and see what sticks!” kind of writer. The one exception to this general rule is that I always try to have an ending in mind before I start writing or at least early in the process (even if that ending is as simple as “Now kiss!”), because otherwise I’m apt to get about 30,000 words in and get completely stuck because I have no idea where the story should go next, on account of I have no idea where it’s going.

For my March reading goal - "a book that's more than 600 pages" - I chose Isobelle Carmody's 1100-page doorstopper, the long-awaited finale to the Obernewtyn series, The Red Queen.

And I made it! I slogged my way all the way through to the end, finishing up the last fifty pages this afternoon.

Honestly I'm almost glad that the final book was so long in coming, because I was so devoted to these books in high school - I lent my copies to all my friends & then checked the books out of the library repeatedly because I couldn't bear to be parted from them for so long - that it would have broken my heart to read this then. At some point around book five I think Carmody lost the thread of the plot, or her previously pretty decent ability to write plots, and never really got it back.

However, her plotting was never the strongest part of the books; what's more painful is that in book seven she seems to have lost her grasp on characterization, too, so the characters will have long philosophical/expository discussions during which they are all basically interchangeable. I repeatedly had to slow down to sort out whether Dragon or Dameon was speaking, because the names are visually similar and there was no longer any clear difference in their dialogue to help me tell.

( Spoilers, in case anyone wants to know how the story ends without actually having to read the darn thing. )

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Progress on the Unread Book Club! I finished reading The Collected Raffles, which turns out to be only the first three Raffles books, but fortuitously it turns out that the fourth is available freeeeeeeee on Kindle so of course I shall read that. I find these books awfully charming.

What I’m Reading Now

Still slogging through The Red Queen. Good news! Halfway through the book - this book, let me remind you, is 1100 pages long - Elspeth and company have finally started to move. If the pacing continues as it has been, then Carmody is going to have to cram Elspeth’s confrontation with Ariel into ten pages at the end.

I don’t know if I’ve been so disappointed in the conclusion of a much-loved series since Harry Potter. And in fact, this is giving me new appreciation for the seventh Harry Potter book: whatever flaws they have, at least they did not include Harry indulging in pages-long speculations about what might happen next, only to conclude with him abruptly ceasing to speculate on the grounds that it’s useless. YOU DON’T SAY.

I have also started my next Unread Book Club book, although as often happens this is more of a “I read this so long ago I no longer remember anything about it” book, Miracles on Maple Hill. Young Marly and her family are moving out to the old family farm in hopes that the fresh air, wide open spaces, and ability to avoid cranky-making strangers will help her irritable father recover from the trauma of being a POW in World War II. WILL IT? I think probably, although it did win the Newbery which also gave us the miseryfest of Out of the Dust, so who knows.

What I Plan to Read Next

Netgalley has come through for me with a book called Touring America by Automobile in the 1920s, which is a published diary about family road trips to the National Parks in the 1920s. Road trips! In the 1920s! On the mess of a road system then in existence! To the National Parks! Aaaaah I hope there are descriptions of campfire cooking and middle-of-nowhere diners with surprisingly good pie.

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I don’t believe I finished anything this week. I started playing a Facebook game and it vacuumed up all my time. I should probably erase it.

No, wait, I did finished The Family at Misrule! Which I had 90% completed last Wednesday. Sorry, Facebook game, we had good times together but you must go.

What I’m Reading Now

Isobelle Carmody’s The Red Queen, a thousand page behemoth that I am becoming increasingly certain could have been edited down to five hundred pages if not less, if only Carmody could have been trusted to return the manuscript in a timely fashion if the editors gave it back to her. (I doubt they dared. The last book came out nearly thirty years after the first was published. They were probably terrified that they might wait another decade if they sent the manuscript back.)

I’m 250 pages in and Elspeth and co. have made no progress on Elspeth’s quest to save the world by dismantling the weaponmachines that already caused one apocalypse and might yet cause another. Instead, they are stuck in a weird little dystopian community, and under other circumstances I would be all for exploring weird dystopias, but I have been waiting half my life - literally half my life! - to read the ending of Elspeth’s quest. I’m probably as impatient as Elspeth herself for things to get a move on.

In fact, Elspeth keeps expressing her frustration that she can’t make any progress. I think this was a sign from Carmody’s subconscious that this part of the book could have been edited down to like 50 pages, tops, but alas she did not heed it.

Instead we get endless relays of - Elspeth finds out a bit of information; she chafes at the fact that she can’t tell her friends because most of the settlement is bugged; at last they gather at one of the non-bugged spots, and she tells them what she learned (which we the readers already know) and they suggest further avenues for inquiry (many of which we the readers have already thought of, although of course we have the advantage of having read dystopian fiction before), and then Elspeth chafes because she can’t get away to investigate, and then she finally gets away to investigate and the cycle starts all over again and GAAAAAAH SOMEONE COULD HAVE EDITED THIS SO HARD. SO HARD.

On a brighter note, I’ve been reading Sherwood Smith’s Miss Eleanor Tilney: or, The Reluctant Heroine, which as the title suggests is pro-fic of Austen’s Northanger Abbey, and a total delight. I really enjoy Smith’s Regency romances - I almost hesitate to call them that; I feel like Regency romance as a subgenre riffs off of Heyer, and Smith is riffing directly from Austen - the book is written in quite credible Austen pastiche - which gives them a very different feeling.

What I Plan to Read Next

I’ve added all of Sherwood Smith’s other Austen pastiches to my Amazon wishlist to add to my Kindle when I get the chance, but first I must read Nora Murphy’s White Birch, Red Hawthorn, a Netgalley book that is a memoir... essay collection... thing about the conquest of Minnesota.

If I had to recommend one Isobelle Carmody book, it would be without doubt Alyzon Whitestarr. I couldn’t put hand to heart and swear it’s the very best thing she’s written, because how could I ever decide between all the good things she’s done? But it does have the unconquerable benefit of being a standalone, which, as Carmody has completed none of her four series to date - four! four! FOUR! unfinished series! - is an important consideration for a fulfilling reading experience.

Reason #1 to read Carmody: she has a lovely, rather old-fashioned voice; I think might appeal to Sutcliff fans especially. It works wonderfully in her fantasies but might seem like an odd fit for a book about a contemporary teenager. However, it didn’t bother me a bit when I first read the book at seventeen, and honestly I think adult people getting snitty about teen books because “teenagers don’t talk like that” is rather silly.

Reason #2, and really at the heart of it: Carmody has a wonderful way with characters, and particularly with creating a feeling of good-fellowship which simply makes her books wonderful to slip into. There’s a sense of richness to Alyzon’s social world, the feeling that there are lots of layers to her life.

“It starts with my family,” Alyzon begins the book, “and in a way, that’s the whole story.” It’s a big family, four teenagers and one baby: and the way that they band together to take care of Alyzon’s baby brother, as well as Alyzon’s mother, who isn’t quite well - she’s physically fine, but she doesn’t seem to be quite all there emotionally - is gently lovely.

Alyzon herself starts off as an average Australian teenager (assuming Australian teenagers are pretty generally delightful, which is the impression I get from Australian teen fiction anyway). Then she gets conked on the head, goes into a coma, and comes out of it with the ability to smell auras.This sounds like a rather odd power, but it becomes enthralling. Also, if you are the kind of person who likes to sort people into Hogwarts houses or contemplates what daemons your friends might have...this is similarly good for hours of entertainment.

With her new essence-smelling ability, Alyzon is so drawn to her classmate Gilly’s sea-scent that they become best friends, and they chat about saving the world and the nature of evil, like you do. (One thing I like about Carmody books is that they dive headlong into the big questions, even if they are sometimes heavy-handed with the answers.)

And they meet Gilly’s friends, who become Alyzon’s gang as well. Not only does Alyzon have a large and splendid family, but she also gets this great group of friends, with whom she eats homemade pizza by candlelight in a conservatory and tests computer games and chats about the nature of evil and how to defeat it.

Even quite minor characters become vivid and interesting. Carmody’s ability to juggle so many characters, to make them vivid and distinct so that you remember who Sylvia Yarrow is even though two hundred pages have passed since we last saw her - and not just remember, but care about her story - is something I admire intensely and attempt to emulate in my own writing. I count every comment about a tertiary character as a minor victory.

The Sending was supposed to be the last book in the Obernewtyn Chronicles. A lot of books were supposed to be the last book in the Obernewtyn Chronicles - I think this trend goes all the way back to Ashling (which is totally the best: the ravek scene still makes me swoon a little) - but The Sending really was supposed to be the last one.

The Sending has been split into two books. The last book - really the last book in the series, like for real this time - is supposed to come out in 2013.

OH MY GOD WHAT IS THIS I DON’T EVEN AAAAARGH.

I would feel better about this, except nothing happens in The Sending. There are two hundred pages in the middle of the book which could be summed up, God help us, just like this:

“Day after day Gahltha and I walked deeper into the mountains, ours heads down against the icy winds. I ate as little as I could, but our food supply dwindled, and I worried how I might feed myself once it ran out. For now, we might forage in the mountains, but what could I eat once we reached tainted ground? And what would I drink? For I had brought only two gourds with me.

But whenever I ran low on water, we found a new stream. Perhaps acceptance was one of the lessons that I must learn from this journey if I were to complete my quest. (This book positively valorizes unpreparedness. I get that there’s something about faith going on, but, uh, I really don’t believe the world will take care of you if you fling yourself blindly into it, so I’m not sure why the book blithely insists that it will.)

I knew that I would never return to Obernewtyn, yet that knowledge ached less than it once had. As we followed the crumbling Beforetime road through the thin, clear mountain air, I felt as though my old life were falling away from me. Even the thought of my love Rushton pained me less.”

Ta-da! Two hundred pages summarized! Two hundred pages that could have been filled with actual plot! Two hundred pages wherein Elspeth could have found and interpreted at least one of the signs she’s supposed to find, which will help her defeat the deadly weaponmachines that will otherwise complete a total nuclear annihilation of her world!

It is testament to Carmody’s skill, really, that despite the fact that nothing happens for two hundred pages - and precious little in the two hundred pages on either side - the book never drags. I kept turning pages, eagerly floating along the inconsequential stream.

***

You may be wondering, given my frustration, what I found so intoxicating about the first few Obernewtyn books. There are a lot of long-winded answers I could give, but the short version is:

At the beginning of the series, Obernewtyn is a remote mountain fortress whence people with strange powers are banished. These people are called Misfits.

Misfits. With Capitalization! Is there a word more ordained to draw the attention of a disaffected thirteen-year-old?

***

So, yes. Isobelle Carmody. A very good writer, but she never finished her series, so at this point I don’t feel comfortable recommending anything she’s written except Alyzon Whitestarr. It’s fun, it’s got cool telepathic powers - Alyzon can smell people’s auras! - and a wonderful group of friends: I love Gilly and Harrison particularly.

And, most of all, it’s a standalone.

Happy New Year, everyone! I had a great New Year's eve, and I'm hoping for an excellent year ahead.

Anyway! Now that it's the new year, I can show you my Yuletide stories! Only two this year, which makes me feel a little pathetic compared to last year when I wrote four, but circumstances change...

The Main Story: When It Alteration Finds, Obernewtyn, Elspeth/Dameon, PG.

I originally tried to write the fic from Dameon's point of view but evidently I can only write Obernewtyn fic from Elspeth's, because I spent a month bleeding over the Dameon fic before switching POV's and writing the story in a single night while I was supposed to be sleeping because I had an early flight the next day. It happens...

Possibly slightly melodramatic, but not, I think, more than the source; also peculiarly bittersweet. I had a good time writing it.


The Treat: Mr. Yunioshi's Photographs, Breakfast at Tiffany's, G.

What? You don't remember Mr. Yunioshi? He's Holly Golightly's horrible racist caricature of a building manager, played by Mickey Rooney in yellowface, who leans over the stair railing and howls "Miss Gorightry! Miss Gorightry!"

This is a "let's give Mr. Yunioshi some back story so I don't have to throw things at the TV whenever he steps onscreen" fic, and a number of commentators said it fulfilled that purpose ably so I am rather proud. It's a melancholy story, but not despairing; someone called it "monoganashii", which pleased me awfully too.

I can share my Yuletide stories! Yay!

Yet another great thing about Yuletide: this one time of the year I'm allowed, nay, encouraged, to rant about my writing process. Just a little bit.

Given an inch I'll run a mile. You've been warned.

( My stories! My stories! With commentary on the Writing Process! )

When I was a seventh/eighth grader I loved, loved, loved the Obernewtyn books to death. They have Misfits, who have cool mental powers! Which makes the oppressive Council and Herders (religious types) oppress them! Except the Misfits band together! And then they join the rebellion, so they can free the Land from this oppression and fight for Justice and Truth!

The Obernewtyn Chronicles have never been really big on moral complexity, but by The Stone Key they’ve lost whatever vestiges they ever had.

( Onward )