Authors


Robert Rankin is an author in the same vein as Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams, and Jasper Fforde (the Friday Next series), ie he is a British fantasy humourist. He seems to be lower-key than those other guys (not sure why I can’t think of any female British fantasy humourists off-hand), and indeed, while I feel I must seek out each new Pratchett, I don’t feel obliged to seek out Rankin – but I’m always happy to pick up one of his books.

He tends towards the very fast, absurdist style of humour – if you find British humour a little iffy in general, you probably won’t like Rankin. He’s written in a number of ‘worlds’. Of the trilogy (though this is a trilogy as defined by Adams) I’ve read, the books are set in the real world, where strange things are inevitably happening, usually in the town of Brentford and often involving a talking vegetable named Barry. There are a couple of other series, but characters and many running gags tend to cross over. He also, like Pratchett, enjoys the footnoting.

I would say that while Pratchett is getting less thigh-slapping funny (but more wise) with time and many books, Rankin is actually getting slicker with the jokes and the layering on of set-ups and plots.

If you like British comedy, give Rankin a go. Fast and easy reads, lots of laughs, lots to pick up on if you pay attention, but no actual need to pay attention if you’re not in the mood.

Today is review day, but since it’s the list time of year and I’m off on holiday for a few weeks, I thought I’d list my favourite fiction and non-fiction reads for this year (my personal reading year, not publication year).

Firstly, there was a cluster of world war books. These were character-driven stories of the people (soldiers and civilians) affected by the two world wars, rather than frontline battle stories. Starting with The Book Thief and ending with The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, in between I read Pat Barker’s truly wonderful Booker-winningRegeneration trilogy, Regeneration, The Eye in the Door and The Ghost Road, the heart-breaking A Long Long Way by Sebastian Barry, and Birdsong by Sebastian Faulkes (though Charlotte Grey didn’t do it for me).

Favourite genre books this year were the sequel to The Lies of Locke Lamora, Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch, Never Let me Go by British-Japanese writer Kazuo Ishiguro, The Confusion by Neal Stephenson, and Making Money by Terry Pratchett.

Favourite general reads included the light French-village comedy, The Matchmaker of Perigord by Julia Stuart, the classic Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome (to say nothing of the dog), and Ishiguro’s gently mournful but touching Remains of the Day. Plus a whole bunch of Jenny Crusie’s backlist.

I had an excellent year for non-fiction: A Friend Like Henry, the story of an autistic boy brought out of his shell through the determination of his mother and the love of his dog; Oliver Sacks’s chemical-focused memoir, Uncle Tungsten; The Suspicions of Mr Whicher by Kate Summerscale, the story of the development of detective myths and fiction in the context of a Victorian-era middleclass murder-mystery; Bury Me Standing by Isabel Fonseca, who explores Gypsy culture and history in Eastern Europe; Friends Like These by the UK master of such stunt ‘boy projects’ (as his now-ex calls them), Danny Wallace; and The Ballard of the Whiskey Robber: a true story of bank heists, ice hockey, Transylvanian pelt smuggling, moonlighting detectives and broken hearts, a funny and tragic account of the Hungarian ‘Robin Hood’ (though he only passed his loot on to the poor through the means of gambling, whoring and drinking…) by Julian Rubinstein.

No posting for a few weeks. Have a good holiday period, everyone, and see you in the new year.

I’m a big supporter of the somewhat shaky ebook revolution (as you might expect, given my books are primarily electronic, with the printed version available as an afterthought). However, up until now I did not own any ebook reader device.

One, they’re not widely available in Australia (we’re not getting the Kindle any time soon, that’s for sure; neither is Libya, where I currently live), and two, they’re phenomenally expensive for something that does just the one thing. I know this is something that has put off many people (the other major factor being the entirely understandable attachment to tactile books).

Apple to the rescue! Or more accurately, Lexcycle to the rescue, with their wonderful Stanza application for the iPhone and the iPod Touch. One free download from the iTunes store to my partner’s ever-versatile Touch, and all of a sudden, we have an ebook reader that can handle pdfs and all the ebook ‘standards’ (when there’s five or six formats, you can’t really claim a standard).

Two caveats: one, you need wi-fi internet to transfer books over to the iPhone/Touch, and two, if you buy a lot of books through major ebook vendor Fictionwise, you may find you have protection issues and will have to use their own ebook reader for iPhone or iPod Touch (find it in the iTunes store).

(Self-plug alert! My own book, After the Dragon is available in multi-format from Fictionwise and its associated sites (like ebookwise) and you won’t have any protection issues.)

The other major factor slowing uptake of ebooks (aside from the love of the print version, expense of the reader, and the hassles with formats and rights protection – I speak as an author here when I say, for the love of god, drop the protection, it just interferes with honest folks’ ease of use; pirates were never going to pay for the product in the first place)…where was I (damn these long-winded bracketed asides)? Oh yes, the other major barrier is the cost of ebooks themselves, which is usually the same or or not much less than the cost of the printed book.

The biggest cost of producing a book is in printing, distribution and delivery (you’d think paying the writer would be a major cost but no). For the price of a paperback book, at least half of that goes to the bookstore (real-life or online store); of the rest, a fair proportion is the cost of printing the book and storing it or getting it to the store’s warehouse so they can sell it to you. Ebooks take those costs away (’distributing’ it – hosting it on a online bookstore’s website – still costs significantly).

Now, publishers point out the labour costs associated with producing an ebook in up to eight (eight! Tell me again there’s a ‘standard’) different formats. To which I say: that’s an upfront one-off cost for the title, same as preparing the print file (also, if your labour costs are that high when producing different versions of an electronic file, you need to look into automation procedures, my friend), whereas printing and distribution costs are per copy of a printed book, not per title.

Yes, ebooks aren’t free to produce, but once produced, they have minimal additional cost – except for the advertising and distribution, and maybe publishers need to be honest and admit that instead of crying pity on labour costs (after all, the most labour comes from the author, and yet they’re not seeing any additional royalties from ebooks; I’m talking about major publishers, I have a very fair deal with my own small publisher).

And let’s not leave the distributors out of my sweeping condemnation: since online bookstores have reduced physical warehousing, leasing and stocking costs, they could probably re-think their pricing structure to give ebooks a fair chance.

It’s time ebook prices started reflecting the savings, especially if the fledgling industry is to follow the music industry into the bright shiny age of bits.

(Self-plug alert! After the Dragon is available for $4 or less from Fictionwise, Books for a Buck, or Books on Board – my money’s where my mouth is on this issue: ebooks should be substantially cheaper than printed books).

I don’t think ebooks are going to beat out print books: I think they should be an easy way of reading a book and then deciding if it’s worth getting the print version (there’s plenty of books I’ve read for free out of the library and then bought my own copy; the same process works with ebooks). They’re convenient, especially for travellers and holiday-makers; they’re good for the environment; they don’t take up physical space; they’re economical (or should be); they can be borrowed from public libraries (maybe not yet in Australia) or paid online libraries…

…and they can be read on your iPhone or iPod Touch with Stanza.

Added Nov 23 2008: Books on Board have now added instructions for buying their Stanza-compatible books directly in the iPhone or iPod Touch (but you’ll still need a wi-fi connection to be able to get to the website).

I haven’t had a chance to read this yet, but I’m being lazy with my reviews this week, and linking to The Guardian’s review, here. Sounds excellent.

My real reason for posting on it this week is because of the recent talk given by pTerry at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, in which he discusses both Nation and the book he is currently writing. It’s interesting for beginner writers to hear professional writers talk about writing: talking about, for example, really enjoying writing a scene (that’s right! All editing advice to the contrary, a scene can be good even if you had fun writing it…you don’t have to kill all your darlings) and talking about their characters as if these fictional creations had an independent life.

The link’s here, and it’s good listening for fans, for writers, and for anyone interested, really (Nation is not a Discworld book and should appeal to a broad audience, both children and adults).

Nation will be published in Australia on 1 October. Interested? Buy the hardback from Fishpond.com.au for less than paperback price!

Who I have previously lauded as one of my favourite authors, and who has just won yet another Hugo for her novella All Seated on the Ground. You can read the full text here, as provided by the original publisher, Asimov’s.

I note she is STILL working on All-Clear, as has been the case for several years now. Connie, don’t make me put you on the Martin and Lynch pile.

Congratulations, too, to the team (particularly writer Moffet and the actress who plays Sally) at Doctor Who for winning for Blink…but really, was there ever any doubt that that particular episode, which barely even has the Doctor in it, was going to win? The angels have the phone box!

Neil, I’ve neglected you…

I was first introduced to Gaiman’s work via his collaboration with Terry Pratchett on the very funny end-of-the-world Good Omens, but this man has a magnificent bibliography – from Babylon 5 to Tori Amos CDs to a bio of Duran to Duran to scripts to the graphic novels he is (perhaps) most well-known for, the shaggy-haired lad can turn his hand to just about anything. I’m going to focus on the novels, which are dark and funny in a sly and erudite kind of way.

Coraline is a children’s book with some spine-chilling imagery – the button eyes of the replacement mother made me shiver. Stardust is described as a fairy-tale for adults and is sweetly romantic and funny, and was recently made into a sweetly romantic and funny movie too. There’s Neverwhere, set in a strange underground Underground, also a TV series and perhaps in the future a movie.

His two big bestsellers for adults have been American Gods and Anansi Boys, both of which have the kind of depth behind them that you can just sink into without necessarily getting all of the allusions (but it’s fun trying to work them out). There’s also at least two collections of short stories, Fragile Things and Smoke and Mirrors.

And these are just the ones I’ve read…there’s plenty more. Gaiman has won a bucket-load of awards and he has an excellent website, including an entertaining and informative blog. His latest book will be released in about three months and is called The Graveyard Book, about a boy raised by ghosts in a graveyard. Looking forward to it.

Pullman is probably best known for his His Dark Materials trilogy, The Northern Lights, introducing Lyra, The Subtle Knife, introducing Will, and The Amber Spyglass. The first book has been made into movie (The Golden Compass, the book’s US title), and I imagine the other two will follow.

It’s a lovely set of books, especially the first, mainly because of the sheer delight of tough little Lyra. I adore this character. Her world is similar to ours with a few ‘minor’ differences, such as the personal daemon (kind of like a visible soul) attached to every person. Lyra lives in an enchanting version of Oxford, but is drawn into mystery about disappearing children. Eventually, the books cover many worlds, and it’s a well-realised and fascinating (if dark) universe.

Given the direction of the series by the third book, I’ve always been a little surprised it hasn’t been targetted by religious fanatics…I guess Harry Potter’s a little easier to attack since it’s got the wizards right there on the front cover so you don’t actually have to read what you want banned/burned.

There’s Pullman’s lesser-known Sally Lockhart quartet, now being made into BBC productions, starring Billie Piper (Doctor Who’s Rose) of all people. Sally’s another strongly-written female character, and the books are fun Victorian-style mysteries/thrillers. He has a couple of books also set in Victorian times, about the New Cut gang.

He also has a couple of contemporary novels, also with young lead females. I’ve read one (The Butterfly Tattoo), but I do prefer exotic settings (fantasy/history). Lastly, Pullman has a set of illustrated stories and fairytales. I’ve only read one of these, Clockwork and found it beautifully creepy (What? Kids love creepy).

Though he is often positioned as YA (young adult), Pullman’s quality of writing and depth of ideas (plus his dark streak) make him good reading for adult fans as well. His (endearingly humble) website is here.

Robin Hobb (the pen name of Margaret Ogden, who also writes as Megan Lindholm) is one of the more mainstream fantasy authors I like.

She is the author of the Farseer trilogy (also known in my household as the Assassin trilogy, given the titles), the Liveship Traders trilogy, and the Tawny Man trilogy (the Fool trilogy; sequel to the Farseer trilogy). These three trilogies are set in the same world and are interlinked though they follow different characters. There is also an unrelated trilogy, The Soldier Son, which I haven’t read.

While I didn’t go out of my way to seek these novels, I did enjoy them. Hobb is good at presenting characters, and I certainly did get very fond of Fitz, lead character of the Farseer and Tawny Man series, to the extent that I was wincing as the bad luck and beatings piled up by the third book of his first trilogy, and a little teary for the last 100 pages of his second trilogy when it became apparent (spoiler alert, spoiler alert) he was going to get a happy ending after all.

I’m not trying to be insulting when I say Hobb is, for me, the equivalent of TV series Stargate SG-1: generally a good, steady performer, only rare flashes of brilliance, but also only rare moments of drek too; while there’s no need to feel obliged to catch every episode, you can enjoy the ones you do see.

With Hobb, I don’t feel obliged to follow the works obsessively, but if someone hands me the series I haven’t read, or I see it in the library or for sale cheaply, I’ll get it. There’s other authors I enjoy more, but there’s a whole lot of authors I enjoy less.

Hobb is currently working on a stand-alone (hooray! Sometimes seeing Book 1 on the cover of a new book makes me put it down again…I think the emphasis on series in the fantasy genre is deadly) novel set in the Rain Wilds. Her website is here.

McKillip is another one of my underrated favourite genre authors. She has a beautifully lyrical style of writing combined with solid characterisation and a sly sense of humour. Though she has written some science fiction, and some fantasy set in the modern world, the vast majority of her works are fantasy fiction set in that familiar pseudo-medieval world of forests, castles and magic.

She is probably best known for the Riddle-Master trilogy, written in the 1970s and comprising The Riddle-Master of Hed, Heir of Sea and Fire and Harpist in the Wind. I enjoyed these for their interesting and unusual hero, and the strong female characters (very important to me as a female reader of genre fiction).

Other books of hers that I have read and enjoyed include Alphabet of Thorn, In the Forests of Serre (one of my favourites), the two Cygnet books, and Ombria in Shadow.

I also very much liked The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, for the refreshingly arrogant and aloof lead character, Sybel, a woman who is really quite callous in using the love of a perfectly admirable man to plot revenge against the villain who has humiliated her.

The aspect of this book I particularly thought well done is the nature of that humiliation. Without getting on my soapbox (hah!), I cannot stand the default, lazy, thoughtless plot device rampant in fantasy fiction of using rape when the female lead needs to have a fall (don’t get me started on the worst example of this I have ever read, in Betrayal by Fiona McIntosh). McKillip here effortlessly comes up with something more original, more relevant to the characterisation, and in a way more devastating for Sybel than rape could ever have been.

More information about McKillip and her extensive works can be found here.

Poor Ursula, a generation of Australians have been turned off her books by being forced to read The Left Hand of Darkness in high school…not that it’s a bad book, but that it’s a tough ask for teenagers to appreciate the themes and the skill.

I love her Earthsea series, both the original trilogy and the way it has continued to develop in the later books. This is a true classic in fantasy fiction, both for the character of Ged and the world of Earthsea itself.

She is also one of the few short story writers that I really enjoy (as well as Connie Willis, for different reasons); even if I don’t personally find much resonance in a particular story, I can always admire the intent and craft behind it. I never really saw the point of literary-style short stories before reading Le Guin’s, but she converted me.

Her protagonists, both male and female, are generally well-drawn and compelling. And there’s one villain, Davidson in The Word for World is Forest, where I can only be grateful we didn’t have to spend too much time in his head.

Le Guin is an elegant writer. That’s about the highest praise I can give. Her new book is Lavinia, based around a character in the Aeneid. More information about her and her works can be found here.

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