Mark Hodder's The Curious Case of the Clockwork Man hits stores. Art by Jon Sullivan.
2/28/11
2/24/11
2/23/11
2/16/11
Introducing Pyr Author Round Tables
Posted by
Rene Sears
In what we intend as a regular Pyr-o-mania feature, we will be asking our authors a few questions about writing and their books. This month, Mark Chadbourn (The Scar-Crow Men), Jasper Kent (Thirteen Years Later), and James Barclay (Demonstorm) join us.
James Barclay |
Mark Chadbourn |
Jasper Kent |
-How much pre-planning goes into a book? Do you use an outline, or write non-linearly? Pants or plot?
Mark Chadbourn: I write using "tent-poles" - I know the beginning, the main events and turning points along the way and the end. But there needs to be lots of space among that structure because all the best, most surprising, most creative work comes from the unconscious, while you're writing. Odd twists, details, quirks, character traits, mysteries, the parts that make a book come alive all rise from the deep mind. If you outline too strictly, you deny all those things the opportunity to surface.
Jasper Kent: I do a huge amount of planning. Before I start writing I have a scene by scene breakdown, usually 20-25 pages long. I also do a spreadsheet to make it easy for me to find where plotlines first appear, develop and end. After that, the actual writing of the first draft is quick and intense – round about six weeks’ work. That’s not to say that ideas, plotlines and even characters don’t occur to me as I’m writing, but it does mean there’s very rarely a moment when I have no idea what to write. Of course, after that intense period of writing, the rewriting is as long and slow a process as the initial planning.
James Barclay: Well, I’m changing on this one... with The Raven books, I had an outline, knew the key events, who lived, who died etc and then just wrote. For those books it was an approach that worked extremely well. These days, though, I prefer a more detailed outline that will chart every event in the book chronologically. Then I’ll fill in the scenes around each event before I start writing. This is just to give me direction and I reserve the right to hate the direction and change it mid-draft if I find a better one. As far as characters are concerned, I’ve always had a good idea of the main players but my every book so far has thrown up a bit-player who becomes pivotal. I rather like that, someone for whom the minimal page time simply isn’t enough and who demands more.
-How much research goes into a book? How much do you do before you start, and how much happens over the course of writing the book?
MC: I write historical fantasy at the moment so the amount of research is vast - sometimes as much as three different strands in a single sentence. I do the over-arching research before I begin, involving the historical events, context and characters. But then I have to research continually while I'm writing because *everything* has to be real - from clothes and food to manners, location, decor and economics.
JK: Partly because of my own style, but also of necessity in writing historical fiction, I do a huge amount of research. All the novels of the Danilov Quintet are based against real historical events, and so one of the first steps in planning is to work out a calendar against which I can set my story. But it’s not enough just to be familiar with the actual period of the story, one also has to be familiar with what was going on generally at the time, and what came after. Also it can be very helpful to read contemporary (or close to contemporary) fiction – and when that’s Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, you can’t go far wrong. Usually I’ve got quite a long reading list drawn up early on in research, which I find one of the great things about being a writer. During the actual writing, research tends to be more into little details that come up; in 1855, did people use matches or cigarette lighters? Before rewriting, I find it a good idea to go back over the history books (or, better, find a new one covering the period) to make sure that my imagination hasn’t dragged me too far from historical truth.
JB: I do as little research as possible before starting a book because I think it is the best way never to start. Of course you run the risk of assumptions proving utterly false and having to change things but I very much prefer to research as I go. I tend to research a good deal during the initial drafting and I find it focuses my research in the right area which saves time.
- What goes into making a villain? In what ways do you try to complement or mirror your hero when you're coming up with a villain?
MC: The protagonist and antagonist are inextricably linked - each one needs the other to thrive. There should be similarities, in outlook, psychology, aims or thematically, which will bind them together and underline the differing choices made during dilemmas. But they have to be significant opposites at some level, balancing strengths and weaknesses. To illustrate, I'd put forward Batman and the Joker. Both have psychological similarities, which Alan Moore laid bare in The Killing Joke graphic novel. But they are opposites because Batman attempts to impose order and the Joker wants to instil chaos. To be honest, I don't like the terms 'hero' and 'villain' because they're unrealistic. All you have are people who want something, and then it's a matter of how they go about getting it. Normally, I look to mirror the two poles in relation to psychology or psychological flaws. If I had to use the terms, I'd say a hero is someone who overcomes his innate flaws and a villain is someone who gives in to them. But it should be much more complex than that. I think it's always nice if you can see both sides of the conflict.
JK: So far in the Danilov Quintet I’ve only got one central villain – Iuda. He seems to work pretty well, but it’s difficult to describe how he came about without giving too much away. The twist at the end of Twelve is the essential idea to how Iuda works.
JB: The key thing about a villain is that he or she does not see his or herself as a villain. You can’t just be evil for evil’s sake. If you’re going to destroy a land, there has to be a reason why. Everything you do has to have purpose and your moral and ethical standpoints have to be consistent. They may be horrific and twisted morals and ethics to us but the villain must live by them. Everything else stems from that. I do not try and mirror heroes and villains. They each do what they do as reactions to each other in the course of the novel.
-What do you find compelling about fantasy? What draws you to the kinds of stories that you write?
MC: I suppose I ought to say sword fights, flapping cloaks and big dragons, but I will risk being accused of pretension. I'm interested in talking about big philosophical issues and fantasy allows me to do that on a complementary grand canvas. You can get into it with all sorts of symbolism and Jungian archetypes and then bury it deeply in a rollicking good story which can be read on many levels. I'm a Romantic at heart, and fantasy allows me to indulge that worldview in a way that other literary forms don't. I like how fantasy lets you disconnect from the modern world and take a different, perhaps more pure perspective, on what it means to be human.
JK: I’m not sure I’m drawn to fantasy in the broadest sense. What I like to do is twist reality and history by a very slight amount. With Thirteen Years Later I was given a gift in that there is genuine mystery and rumour concerning the death of Tsar Alexander I. I find it fun to try and write a weird explanation that fits the facts, rather than to great an entire world from scratch.
JB: I love the unfettered adventure and heroism in fantasy. I love the boundless creativity within it and I love the incredible enthusiasm of authors, publishers and readers for the genre. Nothing is impossible and we have writers able to make the implausible utterly compelling, realistic and fascinating. To read a talented new fantasy author and be transported by them is just a joy. As for me, I have always loved to read, among other things, novels that provide genuine tension, excitement and breathless entertainment. And those are the sort of books I appear to be best at writing and it seems sensible to play to your strengths.
-Many writers mention being inspired by music. Even if that's not true for you, what kind of music do you like? Who is your favorite musician?
MC: I listen to music on earphones all the time when I'm writing - so much that I find it hard to write without it. I have very eclectic tastes and will pretty much listen to anything; sometimes it's a matter of matching the style with the mood I'm trying to evoke. For instance, when I wrote a novel called Nocturne, set in the New Orleans magical underworld, I only listened to jazz. Let's see, current playlist includes Jay-Z and Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind, Sunbears!, Civil Twilight, Apartment, Two Door Cinema Club, Man Alive, The Doors, Air, Arcade Fire, Villagers, Laura Marling, Dropkick Murphys, Nine Inch Nails, Bat for Lashes and the Beach Boys. I have a particular fondness for sixties psychedelia, and often I listen to soundtracks while writing. The last six months was mainly dominated by Hans Zimmer's Inception soundtrack which is a remarkable piece of work. It would be hard to pin down a favourite band as they change all the time, depending on my mood, but I have a fondness for Zero 7, The Doors and Julian Cope who used to front Teardrop Explodes in the 80s and has done some interesting modern psychedelia.
JK: I’m very interested in music. I play piano and bass guitar, and before writing novels I used to write music, particularly for musicals (more info here). However, I don’t find that music has much direct impact on my writing. I can’t treat music as background, so I never listen to it when I’m writing and rarely when I’m reading. Having said that, when you’re writing novels about the nineteenth century, you can’t ignore the musical giants who were around at the time, so there’s plenty about that in the books. At the moment, possibly because of what I’m writing about, I’m very much into Russian composers, though more 20th than 19th century – Stravinsky and Shostakovich.
JB: I don’t think I am inspired by music. I don’t listen to music all that much. I’m a rock fan at heart, and I was a new romantic back in the 80s. Favourite musicians and bands? Jethro Tull, AC/DC, David Bowie, Ultravox, Jools Holland and Robbie Williams are top of the heap.
2/13/11
Finding Fantasy in The Past - The People
Posted by
Mark Chadbourn
There are ethical problems wrapped up in writing historical fiction. Should you use a real, once-living person as a character in your fiction? Their lives reduced to nothing more than plot points and themes? In essence, a human being’s existence shackled to the pursuit of the writer’s own ego? Would you want some future author to make you the bad guy in their little story, the walk-on joke, the mumbling idiot, the obstacle?
And let’s face it, we don’t even know what the people around us are truly like, never mind those who existed hundreds of years ago. In those cases, we often only have a few scraps of paper to sketch out the things they did, with little hint to their motivation.
This becomes even more of an issue in fantasy, where the historical characters are divorced from the realities of their lives. It’s something I’ve certainly struggled with while writing the Swords of Albion books, which utilise a host of real people from the Elizabethan age. To be honest, even after writing I find it hard to decide if it was the right thing to do. I justified it to myself by my attempts to make the historical figures as true to how contemporary accounts described them, but that still leaves a great deal of psychological gap-filling.
The Silver Skull and The Scar-Crow Men are set around the Court and Government of Queen Elizabeth, but she plays only a secondary role. I have less interest in the cosseted lives of Kings and Queens than I do in the men and women who do their bidding.
The stories concern spies, who had, for the first time, become a powerful weapon of the state in this era. And so in the first book one of the central characters is the spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham, a dour, puritanical man who suffered much personal misery in his life, but who gave his all in service to the Queen. His successor in The Scar-Crow Men is Sir Robert Cecil, a clever, cunning politician who battled against prejudice and mockery for his hunchback and short stature – the Queen called him her ‘Little Elf’. These two men represent different approaches to power and control, one quite honorable, the other self-serving. They act as counterpoints to the flawed, vacillating central character, the spy Will Swyfte.
Swyfte’s friend is the acclaimed playwright Christopher Marlowe, a contemporary of Shakespeare who wrote Dr Faustus and Tamburlaine among other plays. He was something of a rising celebrity at the time. He may have been a spy (there is some evidence); he may have been gay. In the books, Marlowe is another counterpoint to Swyfte, a man slowly being destroyed by the dark business of spying and the demands placed upon him by service to the state. Marlowe allows the reader to see Swyfte’s strengths and flaws more easily.
Despite my antipathy towards the lives of Royalty, the fact that important people play important roles is inescapable in this era. The common man was mainly concerned with simple economic survival. And so, as Swyfte travels the known world in his spying, we encounter James VI of Scotland (and future James I of England), Philip II of Spain and Henri of Navarre, the future Henri IV of France. Each one responds – and responded – in different ways to their regal status, and again, each one allows us to see Swyfte in a different light.
Dr John Dee is a key figure in both books, and the third, to come, and he really is the link between the history and the fantasy. Dee, who tutored the young Elizabeth, was both a scientist and an occultist, an inventor and mathematician who communed with angels and cast magic circles. Many of the themes I’m tackling have Dee at their centre.
There are others – Sir Francis Drake, Walter Raleigh, the Earls of Leicester and Essex, the master criminal Laurence Pickering, the King of Cutpurses, who may or may not have been an invention of the Elizabethan equivalent of the tabloids. Each one was chosen carefully for what they said about Will Swyfte, in the same way that any writer chooses supporting fictional characters.
I hope I did them justice, but know in my heart I didn’t. No writer could.
And let’s face it, we don’t even know what the people around us are truly like, never mind those who existed hundreds of years ago. In those cases, we often only have a few scraps of paper to sketch out the things they did, with little hint to their motivation.
This becomes even more of an issue in fantasy, where the historical characters are divorced from the realities of their lives. It’s something I’ve certainly struggled with while writing the Swords of Albion books, which utilise a host of real people from the Elizabethan age. To be honest, even after writing I find it hard to decide if it was the right thing to do. I justified it to myself by my attempts to make the historical figures as true to how contemporary accounts described them, but that still leaves a great deal of psychological gap-filling.
The Silver Skull and The Scar-Crow Men are set around the Court and Government of Queen Elizabeth, but she plays only a secondary role. I have less interest in the cosseted lives of Kings and Queens than I do in the men and women who do their bidding.
The stories concern spies, who had, for the first time, become a powerful weapon of the state in this era. And so in the first book one of the central characters is the spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham, a dour, puritanical man who suffered much personal misery in his life, but who gave his all in service to the Queen. His successor in The Scar-Crow Men is Sir Robert Cecil, a clever, cunning politician who battled against prejudice and mockery for his hunchback and short stature – the Queen called him her ‘Little Elf’. These two men represent different approaches to power and control, one quite honorable, the other self-serving. They act as counterpoints to the flawed, vacillating central character, the spy Will Swyfte.
Swyfte’s friend is the acclaimed playwright Christopher Marlowe, a contemporary of Shakespeare who wrote Dr Faustus and Tamburlaine among other plays. He was something of a rising celebrity at the time. He may have been a spy (there is some evidence); he may have been gay. In the books, Marlowe is another counterpoint to Swyfte, a man slowly being destroyed by the dark business of spying and the demands placed upon him by service to the state. Marlowe allows the reader to see Swyfte’s strengths and flaws more easily.
Despite my antipathy towards the lives of Royalty, the fact that important people play important roles is inescapable in this era. The common man was mainly concerned with simple economic survival. And so, as Swyfte travels the known world in his spying, we encounter James VI of Scotland (and future James I of England), Philip II of Spain and Henri of Navarre, the future Henri IV of France. Each one responds – and responded – in different ways to their regal status, and again, each one allows us to see Swyfte in a different light.
Dr John Dee is a key figure in both books, and the third, to come, and he really is the link between the history and the fantasy. Dee, who tutored the young Elizabeth, was both a scientist and an occultist, an inventor and mathematician who communed with angels and cast magic circles. Many of the themes I’m tackling have Dee at their centre.
There are others – Sir Francis Drake, Walter Raleigh, the Earls of Leicester and Essex, the master criminal Laurence Pickering, the King of Cutpurses, who may or may not have been an invention of the Elizabethan equivalent of the tabloids. Each one was chosen carefully for what they said about Will Swyfte, in the same way that any writer chooses supporting fictional characters.
I hope I did them justice, but know in my heart I didn’t. No writer could.
2/3/11
Locus Magazine's 2010 Recommended Reading List
Posted by
Lou Anders
Locus magazine has posted their 2010 Recommended Reading list, and we are pleased to see that Ian McDonald's The Dervish House is in the Novels-Science Fiction category, while James Enge's The Wolf Age is in the Novels-Fantasy.
Transmetropolitan
Posted by
Joel Shepherd
So I was told I HAVE to read Warren Ellis, and if I’m going to read Warren Ellis, I HAVE to start with Transmetropolitan, because it’s like, totally weird and totally cool.
And it is. Well cool anyway, I don’t know about weird... but that’s probably just me, politics and sociology is my thing, and like a pig in the proverbial shit, I felt right at home. So much at home, I thought it deserved another write up, we politics-nuts should stick together.
What Transmetropolitan is is a great peice of ‘60s nostalgia transplanted quite comfortably into the future. Retrofuturistic... retrofuturama... whatever, the eggheads who make up fancy words to label stuff better described as ‘cool’ have a name for it, when you take the past and project it forward. Drug-addled, street-rioting, sex-crazed ‘60s times works far better for me in this respect than Edwardian, steam-powered Britain, I have to say.
Our hero is Spider Jerusalem, a man whose utter disregard of social norms is mitigated only by the fact that his times don’t appear to have any. He’s a walking reconstruction of ‘60s gonzo journalism, where a few headkickers declared war on this notion of journalistic objectivity, and the writer removing himself from the text. Spider is his text, literally, he’s ink-covered head to foot, and exploding with opinions on absolutely everything. He’s violent, rude, cynical, and lots of fun. He got famous writing a few books, then hated the fame so much he preferred a drugged stupor for five years instead, and has now reentered the real world from financial necessity.
But Transmetropolitan isn’t really about Spider, it’s about Spider’s relationship with his reality. Spider’s opinion is that he’s the only real thing in it, and he might be right. This explains why he feels justified in smashing everything he doesn’t like, literally or in print. When everything and everyone else is fake except for you, a truth-seeking crusade justifies you to do pretty much anything you like. But readers cheer for him because a lot of Spider’s reality really is messed up, even by his standards.
His ‘city’ is a great, black comedic metaphor for the future, where everything bad about our current world is inflated and grotesquely caricatured -- Terry Gilliam fans think ‘Brazil’, only without the Orwellian oppression. ‘Brazil’ was a warning of the dangers of bureaucratic oppression, while ‘Transmetropolitan’ warns of its opposite, and the loss of moral judgment that comes from mistaking exploitation for freedom. In ‘the city’, anything goes, so long as it makes someone a buck, or grants them some kind of power (usually the same thing, but not always).
The irony here is that while the gonzo journalism that inspired Transmetropolitan was supposed to be wild and free, here the comic itself is very tightly structured. Warren Ellis doesn’t lose himself in a pot-haze of psychedelic musings, he tells a series of very neat stories with professional efficiency. The method to the madness is that Ellis has constructed a world that allows him to sound off on all the things in this world that infuriate him, and then embody that fury in the character of Spider Jerusalem, who plays out every writer’s ultimate fantasy -- of righting great wrongs with the power of truth through words. Or just kicking the shit out of them, whatever.
I’ll even forgive the setup its left-wing pretensions, because a lot of these things are left wing pretensions -- every capitalist is evil, every religious person a fraud, too many personal freedoms cause the breakdown of civil society, etc. Because there’s an overlap from that kind of leftism into the kind of libertarianism where I feel more comfortable, and indeed it’s one a lot of leftists took in the early ‘70s in moving from left to right -- a suspicion of group think and revolutionary movements in general, and a dawning awareness that tyranny was still tyranny whether it wore a business suit or togas and flowers. An ideal that you matter, not us. Us doesn’t count for shit, because you can’t control us, ultimately you’ve only got power over you. Spider doesn’t wait for anyone’s approval, he is what he is and if people don’t like it, too bad. He’s a celebration of individualism in the face of systemic unreasonableness, and a rejection of systems of all kinds. Don’t trust the system. Trust yourself. Then be worthy of that trust. And it’s one of those rare things a large chunk of both left and right can agree upon.
There’s not many writers who get into this stuff, the conflicts between every individual and his or her society. It’s pretty core to everything I write about, the sad fact that all human psychology tends toward consensus with one group or another, and at some point in most societies, the individual stops thinking and the group takes over. We all do it. It’s just that in the real world, unlike this comic, we can’t yell in its face and shoot it with a bowel disruptor weapon.
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