wherein Liz talks about rain and segues into a number of other things
'Tis raining. However, 'tis also oddly warm, probably in the lower sixties (Fahrenheit), so I didn't mind the walk from my apartment nearly as much as I thought I might when I heard raindrops committing suicide against my windows this morning.
I've been reading Guy Gavriel Kay's Sarantine Mosaic duology -- Sailing to Sarantium and Lord of Emperors, that is -- and so far (about 70-odd pages into book 2) I like it very much. He has an interesting style, very understated in a way. It's the sort of style where you're on page 60 or so, and nothing terribly exciting is happening but the story has a quiet interest, and then you blink and you're on page 250 and it's still not terribly exciting and yet you haven't put the book down and you feel you've really gotten to know the characters as people, and you'd rather like to know what happens next. It's a deceptive sort of storytelling. (This is not to say he can't do exciting when he needs to -- his chariot races are quite gripping.) There's something about his use of fragmentary sentences that I find slightly jarring, but I don't know if that's something he always does or if it's part of the stylistic effect he's going for in these two books, the sort of careful division into pieces that mimics the visual effect of a mosaic.
He hardly uses any magic. He's interested in people, and in cultures and things like that. So it's not just Ursula LeGuin who can write things of that sort and get published. There is hope.
I always worry about that, because a lot of my original stories clearly don't fit in any genre but fantasy, and yet they're not particularly 'fantastic,' so to speak. If I let the magic in at all, it's quiet and humdrum and not terribly reliable. I'm much more interested in technology, if anything, and more than that I like to construct societies. They're sort of thought experiments -- along the lines of "Let's set up a group of people with this sort of religion, that sort of physical environment, this sort of political system, those external problems, these internal problems, these centuries of history (and this common view of that history), this language, that economic system, this view of justice and punishment, etc., and see what happens" -- out of which I pick a person here and a person there, poke them, and see what they do.
"The Sum of Things" has a more complex plot than I usually go for, but it's still fundamentally the same thing. I set up a country within a region, built other nations around it, gave them all a long and fractured history, played around with three great religions (which reminds me: I really must get around to defining at least two others at some point, as well as the remnants of a sixth religion that was subsumed by Rosaism), set up some interesting metaphysical truths that do not correspond to objective reality as we know it on Earth, picked out two people who are both victims and drivers of events in a turbulent period, and am watching with interest to see how it all plays out. I know the rough outlines, but the characters (or my subconscious, pick whichever you like better) fills in the details as I get there.
The trouble with magic is that once you open the door and let it in, you have to be honest about its effects... and they are wide-ranging and strange in ways that are hard to imagine, in the same way that the internet or recycled soda cans would be hard to imagine for someone a hundred years ago. Magic becomes a system, and has spillover effects. It can't just exist when you want it to and conveniently be ignored all other times. That's hard to work into a world, so I tend to keep it muted, make it too big and fucking dangerous to be of much practical use, or leave it out altogether. (Why yes, I am lazy.)
Hmrph. I seem to have completely wandered away from my original topic, whatever it was, so I think I shall close by saying that it's still raining, and I still don't much mind. Unless, you know, I step into a giant puddle on my way home later. I'll mind that, if it happens. :-)
I've been reading Guy Gavriel Kay's Sarantine Mosaic duology -- Sailing to Sarantium and Lord of Emperors, that is -- and so far (about 70-odd pages into book 2) I like it very much. He has an interesting style, very understated in a way. It's the sort of style where you're on page 60 or so, and nothing terribly exciting is happening but the story has a quiet interest, and then you blink and you're on page 250 and it's still not terribly exciting and yet you haven't put the book down and you feel you've really gotten to know the characters as people, and you'd rather like to know what happens next. It's a deceptive sort of storytelling. (This is not to say he can't do exciting when he needs to -- his chariot races are quite gripping.) There's something about his use of fragmentary sentences that I find slightly jarring, but I don't know if that's something he always does or if it's part of the stylistic effect he's going for in these two books, the sort of careful division into pieces that mimics the visual effect of a mosaic.
He hardly uses any magic. He's interested in people, and in cultures and things like that. So it's not just Ursula LeGuin who can write things of that sort and get published. There is hope.
I always worry about that, because a lot of my original stories clearly don't fit in any genre but fantasy, and yet they're not particularly 'fantastic,' so to speak. If I let the magic in at all, it's quiet and humdrum and not terribly reliable. I'm much more interested in technology, if anything, and more than that I like to construct societies. They're sort of thought experiments -- along the lines of "Let's set up a group of people with this sort of religion, that sort of physical environment, this sort of political system, those external problems, these internal problems, these centuries of history (and this common view of that history), this language, that economic system, this view of justice and punishment, etc., and see what happens" -- out of which I pick a person here and a person there, poke them, and see what they do.
"The Sum of Things" has a more complex plot than I usually go for, but it's still fundamentally the same thing. I set up a country within a region, built other nations around it, gave them all a long and fractured history, played around with three great religions (which reminds me: I really must get around to defining at least two others at some point, as well as the remnants of a sixth religion that was subsumed by Rosaism), set up some interesting metaphysical truths that do not correspond to objective reality as we know it on Earth, picked out two people who are both victims and drivers of events in a turbulent period, and am watching with interest to see how it all plays out. I know the rough outlines, but the characters (or my subconscious, pick whichever you like better) fills in the details as I get there.
The trouble with magic is that once you open the door and let it in, you have to be honest about its effects... and they are wide-ranging and strange in ways that are hard to imagine, in the same way that the internet or recycled soda cans would be hard to imagine for someone a hundred years ago. Magic becomes a system, and has spillover effects. It can't just exist when you want it to and conveniently be ignored all other times. That's hard to work into a world, so I tend to keep it muted, make it too big and fucking dangerous to be of much practical use, or leave it out altogether. (Why yes, I am lazy.)
Hmrph. I seem to have completely wandered away from my original topic, whatever it was, so I think I shall close by saying that it's still raining, and I still don't much mind. Unless, you know, I step into a giant puddle on my way home later. I'll mind that, if it happens. :-)