Teahouse on the Tracks (Alastair Reynolds)
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Wednesday, 25 February 2009
I am One
Now Playing: Smashing Pumpkins

Blink and you missed it, but I popped up briefly on last night's One Show (BBC1, 7.00 pm), talking about gadgets in SF. If you live in the UK you can watch it again on the BBC's iplayer - it's about half way in, I think. Really, we're only talking about 30 seconds or so here - but it was fun to do.

I've only heard from two people in connection with the PC editions of Six Directions, suggesting that the problem isn't enormous.

In the meantime I'm just a tad behind on correspondence (deadline hell) but I'm getting there slowly. I've seen a rough of the cover art for TERMINAL WORLD and it's fantastic. Or, as we people from Barry say, tidy.


Posted by voxish at 10:45 PM CET
Updated: Wednesday, 25 February 2009 10:53 PM CET
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Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Non-PC

Further to some of the comments in the last but one topic, it appears that a number of signed PC copies of The Six Directions of Space have slipped through the net (it seems to be the distributor's error) when in fact only signed and numbered editions should have been available.

If you are the recipient of one of these titles, drop me a line via the dendrocopus address (see below), and I'll put you in touch with Subterranean Press, who are keen to sort things out. I'll be out of touch until the weekend, however, so don't expect an immediate response.


Posted by voxish at 10:05 PM CET
Updated: Wednesday, 11 February 2009 10:11 PM CET
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Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Open for business

Just a reminder - or a head's up for anyone who didn't see the note on the website - but for the last couple of months it's been possible to email me privately. This is working out pretty well; I'm typically no more than a few days behind with responses, and usually get them out somewhat faster than that. The new account, which I created specifically for this purpose, is dendrocopus followed by that squiggly symbol that rhymes with "cat", followed by yahoo.co.uk.

I can't, as ever, guarantee a response, but I'll do my best.

 


Posted by voxish at 12:12 AM CET
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Thursday, 5 February 2009
Lux Interior - 1946 - 2009
Now Playing: The Cramps.

First John Martyn, now Lux. It's not shaping up to be a good year...

I saw the Cramps once only, in Rotterdam (I recall) sometime around 1992.  I went with a friend and ESA colleague, Dr Arvind Parmar. We were collaborating on some astrophysics papers when we discovered (I think to our mutual surprise) that we both had an interest in noisy punk rock. The Cramps were great. I've stil got the T-shirt. I never really felt the need to listen to one of their albums all the way through, but the mere existence of Lux, Poison Ivy et al was a thing of joy.


Posted by voxish at 3:10 PM CET
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Saturday, 24 January 2009
Mongol Hordes
Now Playing: Chaka Khan

Time I bigged-up "The Six Directions of Space", which is now available as a very handsome 88 page chapbook from Subterranean Press. I wrote this novella for Gardner Dozois' "Galactic Empires" anthology a year or two ago and Subterranean's Bill Shafer kindly approached me to reprint it as a standalone book. The book is set in about 2200AD, but the catch is it's a 2200AD in which Genghis Khan's Mongol empire has been running the planet for a thousand years. Yellow Dog, a government spy, is sent to investigate anomalies on the edge of the galactic transit system the Mongols have been using to colonise space. Publishers Weekly said "Reynolds (The Prefect) is a master of fitting large-scale space opera into just a few pages, and this novella is no exception."

I've been fascinated by Genghis Khan for quite a while, and in fact wrote an alternate history story about the Mongols about a decade ago. Interzone rejected it (rightly so, it was rubbish) and while very little of that story made it into "Six Directions... at least the research paid off. My wife, meanwhile, has travelled by horseback in Outer Mongolia and came back with some wonderful photographs and stories. Together with our friends from the same trip we've become fans of Mongolian cinema, which is to say that I've now seen three Mongolian films. I also own a couple of CDs of Mongolian throat singing, which is two more than I ever expected to.

So there you go - we take this stuff seriously, you know.

While I'm on the subject, and I really should have mentioned this sooner, you can also hear an audio version of "Thousandth Night" on the Subterranean website. Go to Subterranean online and click on the Fall 2008 issue.

www.subterraneanpress.com

Meanwhile, it's deadline hell for me for the next five weeks, so entries here will be decidely sporadic. No change there then...

 

 

 


Posted by voxish at 12:06 PM CET
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Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Happy New Year
Now Playing: Keane

Wow, what happened to 2008? Well, it's over now so onward and upward to 2009. I'd like to wish everyone the best of times in the coming year, with lots of good reading, good music and good health.

I suppose 2008 was an averagely good year for me, at least in terms of writing. I got everything done that I'd committed to, but the year got off to a less than spectacular start when I ended up taking much, much more time on a story commission than I'd ever expected to. As a consequence I was later going into Book 9 than I'd planned, and so far from finishing that book ahead of Christmas, here I am still working on it, with a deadline rushing towards me like a demented freight train.

Them's the breaks, though: writing is a creative process, and if you could predict in advance exactly how much time a given piece was going to take, exactly how problematic or challenging it was going to be, there wouldn't be a lot of room for surprises during the writing ... and what would be the point of that? The akward story, "Troika", will appear in Jonathan Strahan's forthcoming Science Fiction Book Club anthology Godlike Machine, and I'm pleased with it now. Actually "Troika" wasn't really the problem; the problem was the blind-alley I went down with a completely different story before I started writing the one I eventually finished. Knowing me, that blind-alley won't be entirely wasted; very little doesn't end up being used eventually.

Then the new book turned out to be a lot harder to get started on than I'd bargained for. I had the "big idea", such as it is, very early on in the game. I then spent months - really, months - bashing my ahead against the big idea, trying to find a way into it so I could actually tell a story. It wasn't until a good way into the summer that I found the opening, and even then my problems weren't over. In hindsight it was always going to be a hard book, since I was consciously avoiding so much of the stuff that I think I'm associated with. Even going into a standalone like HOUSE OF SUNS, there were a certain amount of space operatic "riffs" I could fall back on even on a bad day, but that didn't apply to the new one. The only thing in my experience remotely like it had been writing the Paris scenes in CENTURY RAIN, and while TERMINAL WORLD is a very different book, the opening chapters do have (I hope) something of the same rain-streaked noir vibe that I was aiming for in CR. But then it all goes off in a very different direction indeed.

Quite unexpectedly, I also found myself writing "Fury" (another story resurrected from a problem child), again for Jonathan Strahan (he's a good bloke, and definitely one of the most energetic editors out there right now) and taking a couple of weeks off the book to do so. I also wrote "Cardiff Afterlife", a short story for The Big Issue, but once that was out of the way there was to be no more short fiction for me this year. With the exception of a couple of short non-fiction pieces, I've done nothing but work on the book since the early summer.

2009 promises more of the same, but that's not really a problem; I'd far rather be busy than lolling around with nothing to do. Once I hand the new book in, I have a few short story commissions to deal with, and then I'll really have to make a start on the new book. What's it going to be? I don't know yet, although for once it's not because I don't have a clue, but because timing and contractual issues may mean I start one book as opposed to another. Then there are conventions - I'm doing Finncon in the summer, which should be great, and if I can get my act together I'll also attend Eastercon. And before very long 2010 will be looming on the horizon, which if anything promises to be even busier.

2010, eh? Doesn't that send a shiver down your spine? Well, it probably doesn't if you're under 30. But for those of us old enough to have gone to the cinema in 1984 - back when 2010 really did seem like the medium-term future - it does have a certain iconic resonance...


Posted by voxish at 11:10 PM CET
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Monday, 15 December 2008
Music

It was a good year for record purchases, I think. Album of the year? I'm torn: the album that's stayed with me with the longest, revealing new layers with each listen, is Radiohead's In Rainbows. Yes, it was released digitally in 2007, but I don't think it was possible to buy a physical copy until the start of this year. Anyway, after being slightly underwhelmed by Hail to the Thief, slightly encouraged by Thom Yorke's The Eraser, this did the business as far as I'm concerned. The only downside is that - since I seemed to have this on my MP3 for most of the year - it's inevitably come to be associated with grindingly tedious sessions on the treadmill. But still a fine album from a band that most certainly aren't resting on their laurels.

Purchased about half way through the year, the eponymous album by Mudcrutch - basically one of Tom Petty's bands before he formed the Heartbreakers - was seldom out of the car; it's a great driving album and drenched in authentic southern Americana. The album isn't an archival release; it was recorded recently, but done more or less live, and it makes you wish more records were done that way.

I picked up some good indie stuff this year. The Arcade Fire's "Neon Bible" came out in 2007, but I didn't catch up with it until almost a year after release. I had to be won over, but it eventually ended up impressing me enormously. In a similar vein, I also enjoyed another Canadian art-rock collective: Stars, with their second album "In our bedroom after the war". Wordy, intricate stuff, but efinitely worth the effort. Another record that hit the right spot for me was Seventeen Evergreen's "Life Embarrasses me on planet earth", which I admit I bought largely because of a Granddaddy comparison in one of the music mags, and, frankly, the title.

I didn't buy a great deal of British music this year, but I made exceptions for the Kaiser Chiefs, whose third album was a brilliant collection of concise, hook-laden pop songs with wit and pathos.  It seemed to get a bit of a lukewarm reaction, but I loved it. At the other end of the cheerful/morose scale were Leeds band iLiKETRAiNS, who put out an excellent ep last year and followed it up with an album of almost superhuman bleakness,  "Elegies to lessons learnt". With their focus on historical tragedies and failures, they're like a gloomier, slower version of British Sea Power. Anyway, how can you not swoon over a band with a song called The Beeching Report?

I've never listened to much metal, apart from the occasional dabbling with a Tool album or two, but I've got time for Metallica, and their new album was a juggernaut; the only CD that displaced Mudcrutch as essential in-car listening. I also enjoyed AC/DC's new one - but then, who didn't? It was essence of rock, and all the better for it - but not without its subtleties.

Rather late in the year, I also picked up some amazing albums from Malian musicians, including the entrancing "Welcome to Mali" by Amadou and Mariam, the "blind couple from Mali". Probably too soon to tell whether or not I'll be listening to it in a year's time, but I rather suspect I will.

That's it - lots of good stuff I've completely forgotten about, I don't doubt. But there was certainly more than enough good music to make 2008 a particularly enjoyable year...

 


Posted by voxish at 11:39 PM CET
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Wednesday, 10 December 2008
Year's end

At least in terms of the quantity of books read, this hasn't been a bad year for me, as they go. That's not to say I've read stacks of books, or that many of them were actually published in 2008 - but I certainly read a lot more than in recent years.

Book of the year for me remains Dan Simmons' THE TERROR, which has barely relinquished its grasp on my imagination as the months have passed. Utterly unclassifiable, as well - but without doubt one of the finest pieces of sustained suspense I've ever encountered.

Also with a supernatural edge, I enjoyed Joe Hill's HEART-SHAPED BOX, with minor reservations - I felt he brought the ghost on stage as a visible presence far too soon, and the extended chase that constituted the rest of the book did at times feel like a strangely graphic and depressing episode of Scooby-Doo (complete with ghost dogs and goth-rock soundtrack). But the book worked so well on its own terms, as a page-turning roadtrip horror novel, that I found the flaws easy to forgive.

I loved Michael Chabon's THE YIDDISH POLICEMEN'S UNION, even if it didn't function particularly well as a detective story. But there was so much else to chew on - the language, the humour, the acute sense of place - that it hardly mattered.

Operating in not dissimilar territory, CARTER BEATS THE DEVIL by Glen David Gold (which came out in 2001) is a fascinating lope through two equally fascinating worlds: the lost art of the stage magician, and the twentieth century on the cusp of television. It's hugely witty and clever.

The best pure SF novel I read in 2008 was Paul McAuley's THE QUIET WAR,  a solar-system based hard SF novel which did everything right by me. I'm looking forward to seeing where Paul goes with the sequel.

The best crime novel I read was George Pelecanos's HELL TO PAY.  I didn't read much crime this year, though. I'm ambivalent about SHUTTER ISLAND by Dennis Lehane; still trying to process that one, along with its switchback plot twists.

I only read one collection, and that was so that I might provide a foreword, but that doesn't stop me recommending Chris Beckett's THE TURING TEST - it's an excellent introduction to his work.

I read a lot of non-fiction, as always, but by far the most memorable - if not necessarily the most comprehensible - was Mark E Smith's rambling but mesmerising RENEGADE - indispensable if, like me, you're a bit of a Fall fan.

I'll be back with my music recommendations...


Posted by voxish at 8:24 PM CET
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Monday, 8 December 2008
Only the dead dreams of the Cold War Kid
Now Playing: The Hawklords

One of the singular benefits of being an SF writer is that you occasionally get to meet your archetypes. No disrespect to writers of Big Fat Fantasy books, but how often do they get to hang out with mages, wizards, dark lords, and suchlike? Whereas last week - courtesy of an event hosted by the V&A, and ably comperred by Joe Kerr - I got to meet an actual intrepid space explorer, none another than the celebrated French astronaut Jean-Pierre Haignere, a man who has spent nearly seven months of his life in space, doing for real the kind of thing I make up. I've been priveleged to meet a number of astronauts, all of whom have been charming and modest about their achievements, and Jean-Pierre was no exception. Later, joined for a good Thai meal by fellow writer Paul McAuley, it was an enormous thrill just to sit back and listen to some of his stories, mentally filing away those telling details for the big hard SF solar system-based novel I'm beginning to germinate. It's one thing to try to imagine what it's like to wear a spacesuit, or go through an airlock (and the things that can go wrong) - quite another to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Mental note: your fingertips get chafed wearing spacesuit gloves...

In the meantime, though I didn't have a chance to have a really good look around, the Cold War Modern exhibition at the V&A is running until January 11th, and it's well worth a visit. Thanks to Mary Le Comte for inviting me to talk - it was a delight.


Posted by voxish at 6:07 PM CET
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Friday, 7 November 2008
The Quiet War
Now Playing: Nowt

I said I'd say something about Paul McAuley's new novel "The Quiet War" when I'd finished it. This is Paul M's return to hard SF/space operatics, after a series of near future SF thrillers and even one non-SF crime novel, and it's also the first novel length work set in the same universe as his Quiet War stories, which have been appearing in various places over the last decade or so. I liked the stories and liked this novel a lot - it's very much my cup of tea, in that, while the book in no way conforms to a rigid genre template, it nonetheless sits well in the company of a number of SF novels that I hold in particular regard, including Kim Stanley Robinson's Icehenge and The Memory of Whiteness, Michael Swanwick's Vacuum Flowers, Bruce Sterling's Schismatrix, and several other books that one might loosely call "tour of the solar system" books. The key thing here is that these books have the colour and sweep of epic, galaxy-spanning space opera, but the frame is much more restricted - we're in the solar system as we know it, and there's little or no travel beyond the outer planets. A lot of 70s SF operated within superficially the same parameters, but ended up being rather grey and bleak - they'd drained out the colour, but hadn't put much back to replace it. It was all boringly sterile lunar colonies, Mars bases, O'Neill colonies, people in silver jumpsuits and so forth - rendered with all the dreary lifelessness of a black and white artist's impression.

By contrast, the "tour of the solar system" books that I mentioned above restored much of the colour by the simple trick of making humanity weirder. Instead of technocrats and colonists, we got variegated factions, none more so than in Sterling's fabulous Shaper-Mechanist sequence. We got our eyeball kicks not from space princesses and swordfights on the decks of battle cruisers, but from pondering the way the environment would force people to change and adapt, often in unsettling ways. 

There was another factor, too, which was these new works took on board the latest data from space missions. It was perhaps no coincidence that the results from Voyager - those gorgeous close-ups of Saturn, Jupiter and their entourages of moons and rings - got writers thinking, their imaginations fired off in ways that had never happened before when all they had was grainy black and white photographs of distant smudges.

THE QUIET WAR belongs to this tradition, but it's also clearly a work of the early twenty first century, rather than the eighties or nineties. The landcapes and environments depicted are based on cutting-edge data, or cutting-edge speculation. There's little here that feels second-hand or derivative. The biology - heavily foregrounded, as you might expect - always feels believable and real. The worlds impress as gritty and lived in, underpinned by decades of plausible backstory. The character politics chime with some of the recent history we've lived through - this is a book about the road to war, and how that unstoppable machine crushes the best of intentions. It's a kaleidoscopic novel, told through multiple viewpoints, and while there are clearly heroes and villains, it's no one-dimensional melodrama. Macy Minnot is a really good, believable heroine.

What I especially liked - and I haven't seen commented on too much elsewhere - is the stuff Paul M didn't put into this book.  There's no rampant nanotech. There's no transcendant AI.  There are no mind uploads. Travel around the solar system still takes a long time; there's no magic, super-efficient spacedrive. Since we know Paul M can do the super-science stuff, these omissions are clearly deliberate, and refreshingly so. It's a sober blast of fresh air after so much recent hard SF that has seemed to take the coming Singularity as a god-given certainty. THE QUIET WAR suggests that things might play out on a much slower timescale; that the future will seem strange in some respects but rather familiar in others.

Paul M also doesn't shy from showing us what Earth looks like - and again, there's a sense of restraint, a cool disavowal of such standard future-Earth tropes as domed cities, space elevators and flying cars. The Earth we're shown, while radically different from a political standpoint, (dominated by Greater Brazil, although this doesn't place the book in the "Greater Brazil" universe of his first few novels) still looks recognisably derived from our own. There are still aircraft, helicopters, limousines and motorcycles.

What's best of all is that the story continues in the next volume. THE QUIET WAR is complete unto itself, it ends on a pause, a time to draw breath, but it's not the end of the larger story.


Posted by voxish at 1:52 PM CET
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