As a bit of a detour, while I was away being trained, a coworker an I went to see the movie Gravity in IMAX 3d.
My main impressions were as such, roughly chronologically: Holy cow it's cold in here. How low do they keep the thermostat? Wow is that screen big (I've been to IMAX movies before, but not that often). Cold. The pre-previews stuff was mostly dumb, and made my eyes slightly hurt while looking at the screen. The previews all went as follows: Cold. Oh, interesting. I'd like to see that. I wonder what happens next? Oh, wait, the trailer is done. Cold.
The movie itself took very good advantage of the 3d aspect, IMO. Without going into too many details (at risk of spoiling the movie), it starts with some astronauts in space, and the panorama of the Earth, with depth, behind the crew is space was fabulous. In many other occasions, the 3d effect added wonderful depth to the film, without being obtrusive to me in any way. The only time I realized the effect during the movie was when I subconsciously tilted my head for a different view on something, and the movie went out of focus due to the glasses no longer being aligned. It was a problem I quickly remedied.
The viewpoint was such that I had to close my eyes a few times, though I since that was due to the camera spinning around wildly I have to assume that would have happened without 3d as well.
Many shots were done in apparent weightless environments, and I found after the movie that it seems the filming didn't ever get to space. I don't know how they got all the shots they did, but as a non-aerospace engineer, none of the physics rang false to me (one did appear to be false, but has an in-movie explanation within a couple minutes, so I'm willing to give that one a pass... for now).
As for the plot itself, again avoiding spoilers, it was a well-constructed work. The plot wasn't the feature, IMO -- that would be the scenery and the visuals -- but it was completely serviceable. It did tend toward the disaster-adapt-repeat formula, a little obviously at times, but as I said, serviceable. The mentor figure is appropriately removed, going out on his own terms. The emotional beats are there, including a spike of humor at times to help alleviate the tension -- or to prep the audience for an even bigger shock by swinging their emotions elsewhere moments later.
Overall I'd recommend it, but mostly for the visuals rather than the story. If you do, try to see it on a big screen, with 3d is possible. I doubt it will translate nearly so well to a TV screen.
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label review. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
Million Dollar Outlines Review
Million Dollar Outlines, by David Farland. In short, I'm very glad I bought it.
In more detail, then. David Farland starts off with what might appear to be a digression -- why do people read? In reality, he gets to the heart of why people read in order to figure out what authors need to do in order to deliver to people what they are looking for when they read. His conclusion? Without nuance, to be put through an artificially stressful time for a good emotional payoff.
Emotional payoff is a theme that recurs.
He then covers audience research, including a lot of information from his days as a movie consultant. This includes the emotions different audiences want to experience (statistically, at least), and how to look at what is selling well now in order to try and figure out what audiences are looking for. This can be done with movies, TV shows, and books, though caveats apply to all of the analysis.
Also included are some ideas and tips on characters and plotting. I thought the tips sections were well done in general, though of course they weren't the primary point of the book.
Then the outlining sections start. Farland walks you though why outlines might be needed and the benefits they bring. He continues with developing the outlines, including working on them over multiple passes and rearranging them at times in order to make them work better. Near the end, he takes you step-by-step through the process he uses to develop an outline.
He then finishes with an appendix containing tips on moving from the outline to the completed novel, and a few items of note -- including some analysis of Lucas and Speilberg's discussions when trying to develop the concept and plans for the first Indiana Jones movie.
The book has me excited to try out some of the techniques, and also to try and combine them with another book I recently read, Story Engineering. I have little doubt that my stories would be better with some more pre-planning and a little less seat-of-the-pants writing.
Some minor critiques I have would include the fact that the story plot graphs aren't very well explained (or perhaps I missed the reference to the book that would explain them). I have a feeling I've been missing something with these, as I've seen them referenced more than once. Then again, I might be able to pick up the idea from the book itself. Also, reading the book on my b&w kindle made some of the graphics included for the plot graphs be less than illuminating, though the main points were easy enough to follow.
In more detail, then. David Farland starts off with what might appear to be a digression -- why do people read? In reality, he gets to the heart of why people read in order to figure out what authors need to do in order to deliver to people what they are looking for when they read. His conclusion? Without nuance, to be put through an artificially stressful time for a good emotional payoff.
Emotional payoff is a theme that recurs.
He then covers audience research, including a lot of information from his days as a movie consultant. This includes the emotions different audiences want to experience (statistically, at least), and how to look at what is selling well now in order to try and figure out what audiences are looking for. This can be done with movies, TV shows, and books, though caveats apply to all of the analysis.
Also included are some ideas and tips on characters and plotting. I thought the tips sections were well done in general, though of course they weren't the primary point of the book.
Then the outlining sections start. Farland walks you though why outlines might be needed and the benefits they bring. He continues with developing the outlines, including working on them over multiple passes and rearranging them at times in order to make them work better. Near the end, he takes you step-by-step through the process he uses to develop an outline.
He then finishes with an appendix containing tips on moving from the outline to the completed novel, and a few items of note -- including some analysis of Lucas and Speilberg's discussions when trying to develop the concept and plans for the first Indiana Jones movie.
The book has me excited to try out some of the techniques, and also to try and combine them with another book I recently read, Story Engineering. I have little doubt that my stories would be better with some more pre-planning and a little less seat-of-the-pants writing.
Some minor critiques I have would include the fact that the story plot graphs aren't very well explained (or perhaps I missed the reference to the book that would explain them). I have a feeling I've been missing something with these, as I've seen them referenced more than once. Then again, I might be able to pick up the idea from the book itself. Also, reading the book on my b&w kindle made some of the graphics included for the plot graphs be less than illuminating, though the main points were easy enough to follow.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: 2013 by Kim Stanley Robinson
The last of the Hugo-nominated books that I read, and in many ways one of the largest. I haven’t read any of Kim Stanley Robinson’s other books, so I don’t know how common this style is for his writing, but I gather that they generally span quite a range of places and people. What I would call epics, though the term is usually used more with fantasy than with sci-fi.
The world-building was far and away the strongest part of this book, in my opinion. The many ways that people might adapt things in space to allow humans to live there (and adapt humans as well) were considered, and by the end of the story large amounts of them had been shown. So far as I could follow it the science (of the parts we can know right now) was accurate, and I trust that people who can follow more than me probably verified it as well. It’s that kind of story.
What it isn’t, as much — again, in my opinion — is anything much of an actual story. To me, it read a lot more like “stuff happened” than “connected events leading to a revelation or change.” As presented, changes happened aplenty, and the POV characters may even have been integral in some of them happening, but for the majority of the novel the POV characters weren’t acting toward causing many of those things to happen.
Analyzed from a promises/resolutions point of view, the novel started with Swan’s life disrupted from losing a family member, and you could say that the rest of the novel was her gaining a new one, forging a new connection in the world. On the other hand, you could say the inciting incident was Swan’s grandma dying, and the resolution being the fruition of her plans. So far as I recall, neither was given much prominence by Swan herself, which means that neither played strongly. It might have been a novel of Swan finding herself, or finding her way, but again Swan doesn’t appear to be dissatisfied with much that gets resolved by the end of the story. She doesn’t appear to change, and with the majority of the book from her POV, that gets rough for me.
Other side characters, and even POVs, eventually get woven into the end of the book, but I will admit to heightened expectations after seeing the good reviews the book had received, and so I was kind of expecting a bigger bang of colliding plot-lines at the end.
In the end, 2312 reads more like “a year in the life” book, with a few other POVs thrown in and some pastiche material added from the world-building notebook, than it does a story with a defined beginning and end. There must be people that this appeals to, but I am guessing I’m not one of them. The ideas were grand, but the story did nothing special for me, so in the end it falls to the bottom of my rankings.
1: Redshirts
2: Blackout
3: Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance
4: Throne of the Crescent Moon
5: 2312
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Fan Artists
Since I covered Pro Artists (and since I don't have a review ready yet for 2312), I thought I might touch on Fan Artists.
In many ways, this is an easier category for me to judge than Pro Artist for the past few years. Again, I don't know much about the technique of art, but my guess is that the Fan Artists presented in the category tend to have less wide-spread appeal (for whatever reason), and so in a sampling of the art, I am more likely to be strongly drawn to some and not at all interested in others.
Again this year, one of the fan artist nominations was for sculpture rather than just images, which I appreciate even if I didn't rank it the highest.
Normally I'd go from bottom up, eliminating what I think is the weakest from a strong group of contenders, but in this case the work from one artist that was included in the nominating packet stands out so much for me that I'll skip right to it. That is Galen Dara, with a strong showing across the board. Each of the pieces included in the packet intrigue me, and each of them have further details for me to notice when I am looking at them.
Next I'd go for Brad Foster. His samples in the voter packet are hit-and-miss for me, but they appear well-drawn, and a couple of the samples really catch my eye.
Third I'd take Maurine Starkey. None of the samples of her work appealed to me as strongly as did Brad's (or even others ranked lower), but they are all consistently interesting and appear well-done.
Fourth, then, I'd take Spring Schoenhuth. This kind of irritates me, because I'd like to take sculpture higher, but I'm afraid that the very form doesn't appeal to me as much as the images do. All of the sample sculptures presented looked neat and I'd love to have them, but I just am attracted to the images more.
Finally, then, comes Steve Stiles, who loses out not by being bad (the Scalzi piece included as a sample I thought was really good, individually) but by having 2-4 eek out victories over his stuff this time.
1. Galen Dara
2. Brad Foster
3. Marine Starkey
4. Spring Schoenhuth
5. Steve Stiles
In many ways, this is an easier category for me to judge than Pro Artist for the past few years. Again, I don't know much about the technique of art, but my guess is that the Fan Artists presented in the category tend to have less wide-spread appeal (for whatever reason), and so in a sampling of the art, I am more likely to be strongly drawn to some and not at all interested in others.
Again this year, one of the fan artist nominations was for sculpture rather than just images, which I appreciate even if I didn't rank it the highest.
Normally I'd go from bottom up, eliminating what I think is the weakest from a strong group of contenders, but in this case the work from one artist that was included in the nominating packet stands out so much for me that I'll skip right to it. That is Galen Dara, with a strong showing across the board. Each of the pieces included in the packet intrigue me, and each of them have further details for me to notice when I am looking at them.
Next I'd go for Brad Foster. His samples in the voter packet are hit-and-miss for me, but they appear well-drawn, and a couple of the samples really catch my eye.
Third I'd take Maurine Starkey. None of the samples of her work appealed to me as strongly as did Brad's (or even others ranked lower), but they are all consistently interesting and appear well-done.
Fourth, then, I'd take Spring Schoenhuth. This kind of irritates me, because I'd like to take sculpture higher, but I'm afraid that the very form doesn't appeal to me as much as the images do. All of the sample sculptures presented looked neat and I'd love to have them, but I just am attracted to the images more.
Finally, then, comes Steve Stiles, who loses out not by being bad (the Scalzi piece included as a sample I thought was really good, individually) but by having 2-4 eek out victories over his stuff this time.
1. Galen Dara
2. Brad Foster
3. Marine Starkey
4. Spring Schoenhuth
5. Steve Stiles
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Blackout by Mira Grant
Blackout is another of the Hugo nominated novels that is one book in an ongoing series -- this time, the culminating novel of the Newsflesh trilogy, one of my favorite settings since I read Feed as a nominated story a couple years ago.
Like the other two, the use of blog updates (published and private) add good texture and additional viewpoints to what is happening in the story. Having tried blogging myself (this is my third? fourth? attempt at blogging), I do have a bit of difficulty in suspending my disbelief that everybody seems to blog -- from the vice president to random scientists, not just those making their living from it. That aside, though, the world continues to be richly detailed and this book exposes even more natural consequences and developments in the world it has created as events continue.
In Feed, the story was first-person POV until [redacted for spoiler], at which point another first-person POV took over (not counting the alternate viewpoints shown in the various blog entries). In Deadline, that POV was continued (to the best of my knowledge, and I haven't double-checked), except for one twist at the end. In Blackout, the story alternates first-person POVs between the two POVs from the first two books. This could be confusing, and indeed it was a bit difficult for me to get used to at first, but the strict alternation of viewpoint chapters helps keep everything sorted out, as well as the fact that the two storylines are unrelated for the majority of the novel. This also allows more tension to be introduced as, when the storylines were drawing together, one POV would show actions that would unknowingly affect the other POV, and vice-versa.
I would generally classify the novels as horror, and though I don't usually claim to read horror, some of the recent items I've read in the genre have been pretty good, and not at all what I would expect. That said, there is still a quotient of horror that must be had, a minimum level, as it were, and in a book and trilogy dealing so closely with the zombie uprising, it almost had to end with a fight against hordes of zombies, and with some characters dying. It seems a necessity of the genre to do so, and although I have no objections to how the novel ended, to me the need to include those elements made the ending less memorable, rather than more. The reveals were great, but rather than face down the (face of the) smart enemy, the good guys had to face mindless zombie hordes instead.
Still, a smart book and a good end to a well-done trilogy.
My current ranking:
1) Redshirts
2) Blackout
3) Captain Vorpatril
4) Crescent Moon
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance by Lois McMaster Bujold
I've been reading Bujold's Vorkosigan saga for years, and at it's best it is some of the very best speculative fiction I've read, let alone some of the best space opera I've read.
Unfortunately, this isn't one of the best entries in the series. However, given where the series has been and how Bujold has expressed the desire to show growth and change in her characters, it is inevitable that the focus had to move to other characters, and Ivan ended up being a nice choice for it. It gives a breath of fresh air to the series, and even though it's inherently more lighthearted, this hearkens back to some of the origins of the Vorkosigan saga, before Miles had kids and responsibilities (and, dare I say it, a bit of restraint).
So, how does it hold up on it's own merits?
Bujold is one of the best writers I've read lately in multiple aspect of the craft, and I can't do much but pick nits here. Here, due to the light-heartedness and the POV character (and somewhat due to the genre), we have another episode of plots threads that are driven in large part via external conflicts and circumstances. Both Ivan and Tej do have their own internal conflicts, but while they struggle with the internal ones, there really isn't much in try-fail cycles for them. Instead, we have a good rom-com in space, with events conspiring to alternately drive the couple together and then try to keep them apart.
The technical skill in the writing is excellent, and the characters are well-drawn and properly hit the right emotional notes. The circumstances flow well, and actions have consequences. Basically, all the ingredients are there... but this still falls short for me. Maybe it's overshadowed by it's more prestigious previous books (definitely true, IMO), but I also think that, considered on it's own merits, it ranks as a good story but not a great one. And, in continuing my reviews, what is needed to rank on top is a great story.
Current rankings:
1) Redshirts
2) Captain Vorpatril's Alliance
3) Crescent Moon
Monday, July 15, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Throne of the Crescent Moon by Saladin Ahmed
Of the five nominees, this is the novel I have read (completely) most recently. I finished it a little under a week ago, but have been waiting a bit to give the novel time to percolate before I review it.
Throne of the Crescent Moon is Saladin Ahmed's first published novel, though he has had multiple shorter works published, and overall I thought it was very polished for a debut novel, though in a couple of places I thought it could have used a touch of improvement -- mostly in POV clarity. I recall two or three times when I got confused about exactly who the POV is, which isn't exactly good in a strict 3rd-person limited story. At least one of those I can blame on the book's layout, as what appears to have been a space break in a chapter happened to fall at the end of a page and was lost to the margins, but others happened as well. Every time I got confused I went back and reviewed the section and realized that it was still in a particular person's POV, but not so firmly that it was unambiguous to me without double-checking. In particular, I think that a couple times started by mentioning the POV character's names and one thought on what was happening, followed by paragraphs of other people's actions and reactions -- oftentimes, one main actor, who I would start to think was the POV character, until a thought was presented from the original POV character once more. My takeaway from this is to always make sure I have the POV character firmly established, and possibly default to too much reminder rather than too little, even if occasionally I need to wedge a reference to the POV character in among other character's actions.
There is also common advice to limit the POV characters, especially as beginning authors writing a novel, and that might have helped here as well. I believe there were at least 5 POVs -- 6, counting the guard's POV in the prologue -- and I'm not convinced that we were always, to use the often-given advice, following the POV of the character who was in the most pain. (Of course, there are other valid reasons to choose a POV character, one of which is to remind the reader of that POV's plot thread, but since this book followed one main plot thread from multiple POVs, that doesn't apply as strongly here.)
So far as the plot goes, it was very externally-heavy in conflict, or at least in progress during the conflicts. Each main character seems to have been given one (1) internal conflict to deal with, or possibly 2 for some of them if you count "I'm getting too old for this" to be an internal conflict. Most of the internal conflicts were introduced and stayed constant until the end, after the external conflict was resolved, whereas the external one had them doing the try-fail cycles. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, and so far as I understand it is more of the norm for the sword-and-sourcery subgenre, but it still makes for a work that is less engaging to me. I want the characters run through an internal-conflict mangler as well as the external-conflict one.
Overall, it was a fun, fairly quick read, with a handful of problems I can hopefully take and learn something from. I wouldn't rank it the best story I've read that was published last year, but it was by no means a bad story either, and not disappointing as a Hugo nominee.
Current ballot rankings:
1) Redshirts
2) Throne
Throne of the Crescent Moon is Saladin Ahmed's first published novel, though he has had multiple shorter works published, and overall I thought it was very polished for a debut novel, though in a couple of places I thought it could have used a touch of improvement -- mostly in POV clarity. I recall two or three times when I got confused about exactly who the POV is, which isn't exactly good in a strict 3rd-person limited story. At least one of those I can blame on the book's layout, as what appears to have been a space break in a chapter happened to fall at the end of a page and was lost to the margins, but others happened as well. Every time I got confused I went back and reviewed the section and realized that it was still in a particular person's POV, but not so firmly that it was unambiguous to me without double-checking. In particular, I think that a couple times started by mentioning the POV character's names and one thought on what was happening, followed by paragraphs of other people's actions and reactions -- oftentimes, one main actor, who I would start to think was the POV character, until a thought was presented from the original POV character once more. My takeaway from this is to always make sure I have the POV character firmly established, and possibly default to too much reminder rather than too little, even if occasionally I need to wedge a reference to the POV character in among other character's actions.
There is also common advice to limit the POV characters, especially as beginning authors writing a novel, and that might have helped here as well. I believe there were at least 5 POVs -- 6, counting the guard's POV in the prologue -- and I'm not convinced that we were always, to use the often-given advice, following the POV of the character who was in the most pain. (Of course, there are other valid reasons to choose a POV character, one of which is to remind the reader of that POV's plot thread, but since this book followed one main plot thread from multiple POVs, that doesn't apply as strongly here.)
So far as the plot goes, it was very externally-heavy in conflict, or at least in progress during the conflicts. Each main character seems to have been given one (1) internal conflict to deal with, or possibly 2 for some of them if you count "I'm getting too old for this" to be an internal conflict. Most of the internal conflicts were introduced and stayed constant until the end, after the external conflict was resolved, whereas the external one had them doing the try-fail cycles. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, and so far as I understand it is more of the norm for the sword-and-sourcery subgenre, but it still makes for a work that is less engaging to me. I want the characters run through an internal-conflict mangler as well as the external-conflict one.
Overall, it was a fun, fairly quick read, with a handful of problems I can hopefully take and learn something from. I wouldn't rank it the best story I've read that was published last year, but it was by no means a bad story either, and not disappointing as a Hugo nominee.
Current ballot rankings:
1) Redshirts
2) Throne
Friday, July 12, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Redshirts: A Novel with Three Codas by John Scalzi
I think this is the first novel of this year's nominees that I read, which means it's been sitting my my memory and fading the longest, and yet I can still remember large parts of what I felt. The plot, yes, if I concentrate, but especially what I felt while reading it.
To begin with, the only other Scalzi fiction I'd read was Old Man's War -- a nice little tale, though given all the praise I'd heard of it, I thought it fell a bit short. I had been meaning to pick up more of his works since then, to see if they improved and how much, when Redshirts came out. I requested it from the library, got it a few weeks later, and settled in to read one night.
In the first part of the novel, I remember being surprised and amazed that such cheesy writing had been published, honestly. Still, there was something about it -- Scalzi walked a fine line there, since for the novel to work it had to be cheesy, and yet keep the reader going. In retrospect, the prose must have been nicely crafted for that effect, but at the time I was almost on the border of giving up on the novel. (Sidenote -- the name, cover, and blurb all helped as well. They pointed out that this was not a novel that was taking itself seriously, so I could sit back and go along for the ride a bit more than I might otherwise.)
The next part I remember was that same night, as I got to the part where the Narrative was introduced, and having some strong disbelief -- again, not that it was wrong for the story, but that an author could get away with something so meta.
By then I was hooked, though I had to stop for the night. I picked it up again the next night, a Friday, and devoured the rest of the story. Really, once I got to the audacious plan to fix things, there was no stopping me. Sure, the novel was cheesy and meta, and still felt a bit like a popcorn-flick, but it gloried in being so, and I gloried with it. Then it's characters started struggling even more, and I cared about them, and even as the cheese faded away and it actually became a (kind of) serious novel, I enjoyed it.
The story came to an end, and it was satisfying. It worked, and tied everything together, and it was a nice little story. I was satisfied, and considered stopping there, but I had time before bed and there were the three codas remaining.
The first one intrigued me, spinning a new perspective on the story's events. It was plausible enough to wonder if the whole thing was in fact the writer's delusions causing him problems. It added some interesting ambiguity to the novel, which I appreciated.
The second coda started slow, but hit me hard. I've not exactly flitted from thing to thing (heck, I've been programming computers for more than 20 years now, and over 15 of that professionally, which is almost the opposite of flitting), but some of my hobbies feel that way. I pick something up, then drop it. Pick up another, and drop it. At the time, I had been considering if writing was going to be that way or not -- because let's face it, writing can be hard sometimes, and when things get hard, a big part of my subconscious thinks I've been doing something wrong, because how hard can it be to sit down and produce professional-quality output, right? I mean, I do it at work all the time (nevermind those 20 years of practice -- those aren't the reasons you're looking for, my subconscious says while waving a hand). So I felt somewhat indicted by the end of that coda, even though it was a story and fictional character who had been doing something wrong.
As an author, I'd also note that this coda was another extremely effective use of second-person writing. Either these are getting more common, or I'm just noticing them more, but either way I should pay attention to when they are used and why.
So, thus set up and already somewhat reeling from the second coda, I read the third one.
Look, I'm a guy, and talking about emotions is sometimes hard for me. Also, I don't analyze them much or spend time thinking about the hows and whys of them -- quite possibly to my overall detriment, I'll admit. However, I'm not ashamed to admit this coda nearly brought me to tears. I was, frankly, shocked at how much it affected me. I was moved to send @scalzi a tweet about it, something I'd never done about a story before (or since, so far). I had to, quite literally, sit on the couch with the closed book in my hand for fifteen minutes or more before I could get my mental and emotional balance enough to do anything else -- like remove my bookmark and put the book in the "return to library" pile.
So, you might say that I have a high opinion of this book, and you'd be right. I liked it enough I actually made a note to nominate it for a Hugo when the nominations opened, and followed through on that. Will it get my final vote? I haven't finished two of the novels yet, so I can't be sure, but it is certainly a very strong contender.
To begin with, the only other Scalzi fiction I'd read was Old Man's War -- a nice little tale, though given all the praise I'd heard of it, I thought it fell a bit short. I had been meaning to pick up more of his works since then, to see if they improved and how much, when Redshirts came out. I requested it from the library, got it a few weeks later, and settled in to read one night.
In the first part of the novel, I remember being surprised and amazed that such cheesy writing had been published, honestly. Still, there was something about it -- Scalzi walked a fine line there, since for the novel to work it had to be cheesy, and yet keep the reader going. In retrospect, the prose must have been nicely crafted for that effect, but at the time I was almost on the border of giving up on the novel. (Sidenote -- the name, cover, and blurb all helped as well. They pointed out that this was not a novel that was taking itself seriously, so I could sit back and go along for the ride a bit more than I might otherwise.)
The next part I remember was that same night, as I got to the part where the Narrative was introduced, and having some strong disbelief -- again, not that it was wrong for the story, but that an author could get away with something so meta.
By then I was hooked, though I had to stop for the night. I picked it up again the next night, a Friday, and devoured the rest of the story. Really, once I got to the audacious plan to fix things, there was no stopping me. Sure, the novel was cheesy and meta, and still felt a bit like a popcorn-flick, but it gloried in being so, and I gloried with it. Then it's characters started struggling even more, and I cared about them, and even as the cheese faded away and it actually became a (kind of) serious novel, I enjoyed it.
The story came to an end, and it was satisfying. It worked, and tied everything together, and it was a nice little story. I was satisfied, and considered stopping there, but I had time before bed and there were the three codas remaining.
The first one intrigued me, spinning a new perspective on the story's events. It was plausible enough to wonder if the whole thing was in fact the writer's delusions causing him problems. It added some interesting ambiguity to the novel, which I appreciated.
The second coda started slow, but hit me hard. I've not exactly flitted from thing to thing (heck, I've been programming computers for more than 20 years now, and over 15 of that professionally, which is almost the opposite of flitting), but some of my hobbies feel that way. I pick something up, then drop it. Pick up another, and drop it. At the time, I had been considering if writing was going to be that way or not -- because let's face it, writing can be hard sometimes, and when things get hard, a big part of my subconscious thinks I've been doing something wrong, because how hard can it be to sit down and produce professional-quality output, right? I mean, I do it at work all the time (nevermind those 20 years of practice -- those aren't the reasons you're looking for, my subconscious says while waving a hand). So I felt somewhat indicted by the end of that coda, even though it was a story and fictional character who had been doing something wrong.
As an author, I'd also note that this coda was another extremely effective use of second-person writing. Either these are getting more common, or I'm just noticing them more, but either way I should pay attention to when they are used and why.
So, thus set up and already somewhat reeling from the second coda, I read the third one.
Look, I'm a guy, and talking about emotions is sometimes hard for me. Also, I don't analyze them much or spend time thinking about the hows and whys of them -- quite possibly to my overall detriment, I'll admit. However, I'm not ashamed to admit this coda nearly brought me to tears. I was, frankly, shocked at how much it affected me. I was moved to send @scalzi a tweet about it, something I'd never done about a story before (or since, so far). I had to, quite literally, sit on the couch with the closed book in my hand for fifteen minutes or more before I could get my mental and emotional balance enough to do anything else -- like remove my bookmark and put the book in the "return to library" pile.
So, you might say that I have a high opinion of this book, and you'd be right. I liked it enough I actually made a note to nominate it for a Hugo when the nominations opened, and followed through on that. Will it get my final vote? I haven't finished two of the novels yet, so I can't be sure, but it is certainly a very strong contender.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Novellas
I enjoy shorter works, but with the novellas I sometimes get the best of both worlds: small enough to be read in a day, or sometimes even half a day, if I have nothing else I need to be doing, but long enough to get some depth and a full plot, sometimes with a couple of subplots. While they can't do the intricate tie-together of dozens of plot threads that the best epic stories can, they can still pack a wallop at the end.
How did this year's nominated crop do? In what seems to be a trend this year, many solid pieces and none that jump out at me, forcing me to vote for them.
Unfortunately, this one fell down more than the rest for me, due mostly to plot. There is plenty of conflict, and (at least somewhat) sympathetic characters on all sides of the inciting event, but in the end it seems more like a chronicle of events and what the characters did during them than it does a story. I'm going to take a stab at why with the MICE quotient -- the story starts with a scientist announcing a discovery that upsets the religious teachings of the time. To me, this indicates a clear event story, since the status quo is upset (and if that's not enough, the later revelation that his evidence will only become more and more obvious to others as well clearly indicates that the status quo will not continue). However, after a fight in the end, we have an event that doesn't restore the previous status quo (the church's figure running off), and a character-arc resolution for the scientist follows -- where he resolves to not push his discoveries on others, which undermines the idea that a new status quo has been accepted. I think this ending, as much as anything, leaves a feeling that things are still unresolved, which is what leads to my feeling of stuff-happened rather than story-occurred.
My Opinion
As the discussion of "The Stars Do Not Lie" may indicate, it quickly falls to the bottom of my rankings. For the remaining four, I'm afraid I have to rank On a Red Station, Drifting fourth, followed by The Emperor's Soul third (despite it's magic system creativity, the story didn't strike me as hard as the remaining two). Finally, between San Diego 2014 and After, Before, During, I have to give the nod to After the Fall, Before the Fall, During the Fall. This is primarily due to how well it kept me engrossed in the story, and despite my feelings about the Gaia explanation in the end. San Diego 2014 didn't maintain that level of interest from me, but it did provide a more satisfying ending (IMO), so I may end up swapping before I cast my final ballot, but I doubt it.
How did this year's nominated crop do? In what seems to be a trend this year, many solid pieces and none that jump out at me, forcing me to vote for them.
- After the Fall, Before the Fall, During the Fall, Nancy Kress (Tachyon Publications)
Of all the stories here, this was the one that felt the most like a complete novel -- and I could be mistaken, but it might have been the one with the longest wordcount as well. It certainly sticks in my mind as one of the longest to read. That said, the story was also one of the most intriguing to me. I loved the way it wove the three timelines together, raising questions in some just to answer them in the others, only to have those answers reflect back and then cause more questions again.
On the (small) downside, some of the character actions felt a bit undeveloped to me -- that is, they could well have been justified, but what was in the text might have been a touch too sparse. Also, while I enjoyed the "we did it to ourselves" aspect of the ending, I thought the reference to Gaia specifically protecting herself was odd, and in my mind there was no need to introduce it; one or two catastrophes leading to nuclear armageddon is plausible enough by itself.
Back to the plus side, the Tesslies were never explained, which surprised me but in a good way. I think including something for them would have been too neatly wrapped up.
- The Emperor’s Soul, Brandon Sanderson (Tachyon Publications)
Brandon offered an electronic version of this to nominating members of Worldcon, and I took him up on it, having otherwise little chance to read the story. I can't say how much that effort helped in getting him nominated, but I feel it holds its own when laid next to the other selected nominees. As usual with his fantasy stories, the magic system is both unique and well-thought-out, and is one of the strengths of the story. (I found after reading the story that this was set in the same world as Elantris, which I didn't grasp during the story but after learning this found a couple hints scattered throughout.)
On the negative side, I'm of split minds about the ending -- specifically, the action scenes. The majority of the story is more along the lines of a mystery or court intrigue, with the various players and factions maneuvering against each other. The flight and fight to wrap up the story is a good thing for paying off some promises about how the magic system can be used on a person, and yet the fighting in particular seemed off from the tone of the rest of the book. While I'm being critical, I'll add that I don't recall much of a growth arc to the MC through the story. Both of these are rather small nits to be picking at, however, and the overall story is quite solid.
- On a Red Station, Drifting, Aliette de Bodard (Immersion Press)
This story is apparently set in the same world as some others by Aliette de Bodard, including the short story Immersion. In this particular case, I wonder if the story suffers just a bit for it. The worldbuilding is comprehensive, and the look into another future culture is fascinating, but despite my general appreciation for this length of story, in this case I think it was the wrong choice.
In a bit more detail, schematically I can see how the story is structured such that the ending matches the beginning, the arc for the main character is there, there are hints of arcs for other characters... but in the end, there is so much happening in the story, and so many references to other things happening, and so much detail that is glossed over, that I thought the story would benefit from more room dedicated to these things. The threads weren't dangling, necessarily; we were given the information about where they tied up, but not where they went in between, or, from my perspective anyway, sometimes enough information to see how it should impact the rest of the story.
My other complimaint (that's a combination compliment and complaint) is that the characters were realistically drawn, each of the prominent ones with their own goals and troubles, but I really didn't know who to latch on to and none of them elicited that sympathy in me that makes me want to keep reading and see what happened to them. Probably the closest in that regard is the grandmother AI, who is unfortunately silenced before the end of the story.
In a bit more detail, schematically I can see how the story is structured such that the ending matches the beginning, the arc for the main character is there, there are hints of arcs for other characters... but in the end, there is so much happening in the story, and so many references to other things happening, and so much detail that is glossed over, that I thought the story would benefit from more room dedicated to these things. The threads weren't dangling, necessarily; we were given the information about where they tied up, but not where they went in between, or, from my perspective anyway, sometimes enough information to see how it should impact the rest of the story.
My other complimaint (that's a combination compliment and complaint) is that the characters were realistically drawn, each of the prominent ones with their own goals and troubles, but I really didn't know who to latch on to and none of them elicited that sympathy in me that makes me want to keep reading and see what happened to them. Probably the closest in that regard is the grandmother AI, who is unfortunately silenced before the end of the story.
- San Diego 2014: The Last Stand of the California Browncoats, Mira Grant (Orbit)
This is another that ties into other fiction, but in this case I've happened to have read the other fiction. I can't know for sure, since I haven't approached it from a blank slate, but I believe that having read the novels adds just a bit of resonance to the story, and in particular the framing device. The interview and look back adds to the suspense, because you know something bad is going to be happening, but without having read the novels I doubt I'd care who is doing the interviewing or want them to be able to succeed in getting the subject to open up.
Likewise, I can't recall if the story explicitly mentioned that this was one of the first giant zombie outbreak problems, or if that information came with the other novels. That said, I found the portrayal of a zombie attack in an environment set very close to current days to be pretty realistic. I liked that each of the people presented in the meat of the story had their own reasons for being there, their own behaviors, and their own goals as things started to get bad. And their own responses to the events that were happening. Plus, of course, Mira Grant did a wonderful job in getting me to like most of the characters even though I knew they were going to be killed by the end.
An interesting side-note to liking the characters -- she didn't make all of the characters likable, though they almost all had something about them that the reader could identify with, even the ones who made poor choices. I think this made it feel a lot more realistic, rather than making it feel heavy-handed. In the same vein, the one character we know survived isn't incredibly likable either. She's not horrible, but she's a typical teenager who isn't having a good day, and takes it out on people around her. Rather than make the reader dislike her, though, it actually causes empathy and pity.
Likewise, I can't recall if the story explicitly mentioned that this was one of the first giant zombie outbreak problems, or if that information came with the other novels. That said, I found the portrayal of a zombie attack in an environment set very close to current days to be pretty realistic. I liked that each of the people presented in the meat of the story had their own reasons for being there, their own behaviors, and their own goals as things started to get bad. And their own responses to the events that were happening. Plus, of course, Mira Grant did a wonderful job in getting me to like most of the characters even though I knew they were going to be killed by the end.
An interesting side-note to liking the characters -- she didn't make all of the characters likable, though they almost all had something about them that the reader could identify with, even the ones who made poor choices. I think this made it feel a lot more realistic, rather than making it feel heavy-handed. In the same vein, the one character we know survived isn't incredibly likable either. She's not horrible, but she's a typical teenager who isn't having a good day, and takes it out on people around her. Rather than make the reader dislike her, though, it actually causes empathy and pity.
- “The Stars Do Not Lie”, Jay Lake (Asimov’s, Oct-Nov 2012)
Unfortunately, this one fell down more than the rest for me, due mostly to plot. There is plenty of conflict, and (at least somewhat) sympathetic characters on all sides of the inciting event, but in the end it seems more like a chronicle of events and what the characters did during them than it does a story. I'm going to take a stab at why with the MICE quotient -- the story starts with a scientist announcing a discovery that upsets the religious teachings of the time. To me, this indicates a clear event story, since the status quo is upset (and if that's not enough, the later revelation that his evidence will only become more and more obvious to others as well clearly indicates that the status quo will not continue). However, after a fight in the end, we have an event that doesn't restore the previous status quo (the church's figure running off), and a character-arc resolution for the scientist follows -- where he resolves to not push his discoveries on others, which undermines the idea that a new status quo has been accepted. I think this ending, as much as anything, leaves a feeling that things are still unresolved, which is what leads to my feeling of stuff-happened rather than story-occurred.
My Opinion
As the discussion of "The Stars Do Not Lie" may indicate, it quickly falls to the bottom of my rankings. For the remaining four, I'm afraid I have to rank On a Red Station, Drifting fourth, followed by The Emperor's Soul third (despite it's magic system creativity, the story didn't strike me as hard as the remaining two). Finally, between San Diego 2014 and After, Before, During, I have to give the nod to After the Fall, Before the Fall, During the Fall. This is primarily due to how well it kept me engrossed in the story, and despite my feelings about the Gaia explanation in the end. San Diego 2014 didn't maintain that level of interest from me, but it did provide a more satisfying ending (IMO), so I may end up swapping before I cast my final ballot, but I doubt it.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Graphic Story
A detour from the regular fiction here, to deal with the pictures with words attached.
I always have an interesting time with these. On one hand, I like graphic novels, and think they can do some pretty awesome stuff with the pictures, as opposed to just words. On the other hand, I have a preference -- a strong preference -- for complete stories, or at least complete story arcs. For the few years I've done the Hugo thing, I've struggled on how to rate the graphic novels, especially for many of them that are published collections of ongoing stories, but are not a complete story, or even a complete arc in a story, in and of themselves. For many of the nominated works in the past, they read more as a chapter in a story than anything else.
This year continues the same tradition for at least two of the nominees (Saga and Saucer Country, both just starting out), while two others (Grandville and Schlock Mercenary) tell what seems to me to be a complete story. The fifth, Locke & Key, further blurs the lines, because it seems like a chapter in the overall story (some of which I've also read), but also presents at least a story in the flashbacks.
So. There's that.
My Opinion
I can't go against my strongly-held inclinations toward complete stories. I inevitably enjoy those stories more than those I only get a chapter of. With that said, it comes down to a choice between Grandville and Schlock Mercenary for the top choice, and as much enjoyment as Schlock Mercenary has given me through the years, it comes in second in this comparison. Following that, I'd have to rank them Locke & Key, Saga, and then Saucer Country.
I always have an interesting time with these. On one hand, I like graphic novels, and think they can do some pretty awesome stuff with the pictures, as opposed to just words. On the other hand, I have a preference -- a strong preference -- for complete stories, or at least complete story arcs. For the few years I've done the Hugo thing, I've struggled on how to rate the graphic novels, especially for many of them that are published collections of ongoing stories, but are not a complete story, or even a complete arc in a story, in and of themselves. For many of the nominated works in the past, they read more as a chapter in a story than anything else.
This year continues the same tradition for at least two of the nominees (Saga and Saucer Country, both just starting out), while two others (Grandville and Schlock Mercenary) tell what seems to me to be a complete story. The fifth, Locke & Key, further blurs the lines, because it seems like a chapter in the overall story (some of which I've also read), but also presents at least a story in the flashbacks.
So. There's that.
- Grandville Bête Noire, written and illustrated by Bryan Talbot (Dark Horse Comics, Jonathan Cape)
Last years' voter packet was my first exposure to Grandville, and I loved it. I thought at the time that it was a one-off book, though it had a lot of worldbuilding involved. Silly me. This year saw another nominated, and now I know that it is an ongoing story, and that I should be paying more attention to what it is doing. Last year's was one of my favorite graphic novels ever, and unfortunately this year's entry didn't quite hit the same notes, for me, though it's a very solid entry and quite worthy of the nomination. The art is top-notch, and the worldbuilding remains wonderful.
- Locke & Key Volume 5: Clockworks, written by Joe Hill, illustrated by Gabriel Rodriguez (IDW)
As I mentioned before, this was a very interesting one. It continues to be wonderfully illustrated, and the subcurrents of the plot keep it tense for me. The horror is well-done also. However, I continue to find it hard to rank the chapters in a longer tale as the best among nominated works.
- Saga, Volume One, written by Brian K. Vaughn, illustrated by Fiona Staples (Image Comics)
I love this introduction to the world and story -- for the most part, at least -- and it has some very effectively creepy images in it. I am in awe of the imagination that can come up with these images and situations. However, it suffers twice in my opinion; once from being only part of a story (though it did complete the mini-arc of finding the transportation location), and once from being the introduction, which to me means there's more setup and less payoff in this part.
- Schlock Mercenary: Random Access Memorabilia, written and illustrated by Howard Tayler, colors by Travis Walton (Hypernode Media)
I've been reading Schlock Mercenary for longer than I've been voting on Hugos, and continue to enjoy it on a nearly daily basis (my misses on some days; Howard Tayler's update record is near legendary). That said, while Random Access Memorabilia is a decent story, it suffers a bit from the same symptoms as Grandville does this year: for me, I've seen these characters in a story I felt was stronger, and though I try not to let that color my opinions too much, it undoubtedly does. The artwork, while different than all the others, hasn't been any sort of weakness for years now either.
- Saucer Country, Volume 1: Run, written by Paul Cornell, illustrated by Ryan Kelly, Jimmy Broxton and Goran Sudžuka (Vertigo)
My Opinion
I can't go against my strongly-held inclinations toward complete stories. I inevitably enjoy those stories more than those I only get a chapter of. With that said, it comes down to a choice between Grandville and Schlock Mercenary for the top choice, and as much enjoyment as Schlock Mercenary has given me through the years, it comes in second in this comparison. Following that, I'd have to rank them Locke & Key, Saga, and then Saucer Country.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Novelettes
A full slate of novelettes to consider this year. This is usually one of my favorite categories, since there's a bit more room to play in than short stories allow, but they are still short and focused enough to read in one setting. Also a unique aspect: two nominated stories by the same author (Seanan McGuire). Also interesting is the pervasive melancholy or couple-doesn't-get-together endings through this set of stories.
- “The Boy Who Cast No Shadow”, Thomas Olde Heuvelt (Postscripts: Unfit For Eden, PS Publications)
An interesting story that glosses over the magic/science behind it to deal with people who are made of different stuff -- literally, in the case of the boy made of glass. I liked the melancholy tone the end set, and indeed the whole endpiece once the two decided to run away, but overall this one left me feeling so-so. I wonder how much was potentially lost in translation for this one, since it was originally published in Dutch.
- “Fade To White”, Catherynne M. Valente ( Clarkesworld, August 2012)
The advertisement interludes sold it for me, and a good thing too, because otherwise the full-immersion effect may have been too much for me to keep reading (other than the Hugo nom, of course). I liked how it worked the post-apocolypse angle, and all the changes to society seemed very believable, along with the daily concerns of the POV characters presented. A bit of credulity-stretching with the teenage interest in older movies, but that added an important element of translation from my world to that of the character's, so it's hard to complain too much. The two POV characters don't end up together, and I'm not sure if I applaud this as not being cliched, or am sad because they were nice characters and could have made each other happy.
- “The Girl-Thing Who Went Out for Sushi”, Pat Cadigan (Edge of Infinity, Solaris)
Space exploration and body modification, with a hint of lawyer struggle and oppression from the home world? Sounds like a lot, and for all the world-building that seems to have gone into this, I hope there are other stories or novels set in the same world. Still, the density of world-building made this one of the easiest for me to get into, and I liked it all-around.
- “In Sea-Salt Tears”, Seanan McGuire (Self-published)
Each of Seanan McGuire's stories were apparently set in a larger world of her own, and deal with at least some of the same characters as appear in her novels. I haven't read those novels, and yet for neither of the stories did I feel like I was missing anything vital to my understanding. This story seemed early-on like it was going to be a twist on The Little Mermaid, and I was happy it didn't end up that way. I was also invested enough in the relationship that I was hoping the MC wouldn't accept the transition after all, though I knew it was probably a forgone hope. I liked how the choices seemed to come from the characters and incidentally create conflict, rather than appear to be done by authorial dictate.
- “Rat-Catcher”, Seanan McGuire ( A Fantasy Medley 2, Subterranean)
As above, the story was well-contained enough that I didn't feel lost without having read any of the novels that these characters appear in. I've always liked stories about intelligent, prankster, or fae cats, and this one delivers. I also like the idea of cats sitting and watching the Shakespeare plays, way-back-when. This one does hit the somewhat-cliche result of the self-fulfilling prophecy -- or at least, it strongly hints at it -- but really the prophecy and its fulfillment are almost just background texture around which the story takes place; that of the new king of the Cat Sidhe taking the position from his elder.
My Opinion
These are a hard lot to choose between. None seem unworthy, but none jump out and force me to move them to the top of the list either. I think for sheer fun and world-building, Fade to White and The Girl Thing... move to the top of the list, with The Girl Thing Who Went Out for Sushi first, Fade to White second, followed by In Sea-Salt Tears, The Boy Who Cast No Shadow, and finally Rat-Catcher... unless I change my mind between now and when I lock in my vote.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Hugo 2013 Reviews: Intro
In order to get my own thoughts arranged (and recorded for future memory), and in order to potentially foster some discussion, I'm going to record my thoughts on the 2013 Hugo nominees, concentrating primarily on the fiction.
I've been reading, nominating, and voting for the Hugos for about 3 years now. In some ways, I'm just getting the hang of things. In others, I'm sure I'm still a beginner. However, one of the things that struck me this year was that this was the first year in which I had read more than 1 of the nominated Hugo novels, having read three of them (Redshirts, Captain Vorpatril's Alliance, and Blackout). This will give me an incredible boost in my attempt to get through the entire packet this year, as most years I haven't found the time to read all the novels, and thus usually don't vote for them -- besides, they are well-represented in the voting.
I prefer to start with the smaller stories and work my way up, and so that is the way I'll be doing the reviews as well; starting with Short Stories and working my way up to Novels, with possibly a digression or two to the other categories.
I've been reading, nominating, and voting for the Hugos for about 3 years now. In some ways, I'm just getting the hang of things. In others, I'm sure I'm still a beginner. However, one of the things that struck me this year was that this was the first year in which I had read more than 1 of the nominated Hugo novels, having read three of them (Redshirts, Captain Vorpatril's Alliance, and Blackout). This will give me an incredible boost in my attempt to get through the entire packet this year, as most years I haven't found the time to read all the novels, and thus usually don't vote for them -- besides, they are well-represented in the voting.
I prefer to start with the smaller stories and work my way up, and so that is the way I'll be doing the reviews as well; starting with Short Stories and working my way up to Novels, with possibly a digression or two to the other categories.
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