Archives for category: Authors

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.

I’ve only discovered Bujold in the last few years and have barely touched her back-catalogue but what I have read of her works has greatly impressed me. Her main SF focus has been the Vorkosigan Saga, a series of books set on or around the planet Barrayar, and her main character has been Miles Vorkosigan, the too-clever-for-his-own-good spy and aristocrat. As with CJ Cherryh, her characters are complex and well-developed, plus she has a flair for quick and clever dialogue I appreciate; her wiki entry even links Miles with Lord Peter Wimsey which may go a long way to explaining my fondness.

While she has not written as much in the fantasy genre, I actually first encountered her with The Curse of Chalion, one of her few fantasy works, a intelligently told story with an excellent main character and a good supporting cast. I once overheard a bookshop assistant recommend David Gemmell to a woman looking for a fantasy-book gift for her 15-year-old niece…to this day, I wish I’d gone over and told him he was insane, and suggested the woman buy this book instead (or at a pinch, for a teen girl, David Eddings). Not that Bujold’s works are Young Adult particularly or aimed at women particularly, but that they are well-written, well-characterised, and clever, and when I was a female teenaged fantasy fan, I would have appreciated knowing about them.

Lots of sample chapters and information here.

I was always going to get to him eventually, but I’ve moved him up given the sad news.

Terry Pratchett (fondly known as pTerry by fans since the publication of Pyramids), author of the long-running Discworld series, has been among my favourite authors since highschool; he has grown in sophistication in line with my tastes as a reader as I have moved ever-further-away from my teenage years.

He has developed a number of different sub-societies within the Discworld – the witches, the guards, the wizards, the Death/Susan books, and the Tiffany books spring to mind, plus several stand-alones (though technically any of the series can be read in any order, the later books do build on the earlier ones quite strongly). The stories are as varied as the cast of characters and the situations can make them, but often follow themes to do with the responsible use of power in its many forms.

It’s very difficult to single out a favourite book. In terms of characters, I’ve always had a soft spot for Vimes of the city watch, far and away my favourite through many many years (although Moist, the lead of Going Postal and now Making Money does have the insouciant charm and confidence of the slightly amoral hero that I am awfully fond of in fiction). The interplay between Vimes and the Patrician has led to some of my very favourite scenes in the entire series (‘sometimes you have to wind the spring as tight as it will go’).

The Patrician himself redefined my use of the word ‘momentarily’; and thanks to Carrot, I can never mention the word ‘pun’ without spelling/pronouncing it ‘pune’ and announcing ‘this is a pune or play on words’ (opportunities to use the word abound, of course).

Pratchett’s work is unfailingly clever and erudite. The comedy has developed from the slapstick and parody of early books to a keen satire based on the inherent ridiculousness of many human endeavours. The early books do suffer in comparison with the latest, partly because it has been twenty years since they were written and partly because there’s only so many re-readings you can take…

I don’t read much other comedy, particularly in the fantasy genre. Like the best science fiction, Pratchett’s fantasy satire illuminates the nature of humanity – our strengths, our quirks, our imperfections. Other fantasy comedy (including Pratchett’s own earliest works) is too superficial to meet the standard he has set for me.

The latest book is Making Money. More about pTerry and the Discworld can be found here. I’m sure you will all join me in wishing him the tenacity of the Nac Mac Feegles in the fight against Alzheimer’s.

CJ Cherryh is another of my favourite authors who never seems to get the credit she deserves (aside from a large number of awards, of course). She writes both fantasy and science fiction, and is one of the few authors who makes science fiction readable for me. To me, she’s also one of the few SF authors who manage to make really alien aliens as opposed to just humans in a different skin, and who also manages to explore real human reactions to alien situations, as opposed to too much focus on techie stuff.

She specialises in a tight third-person from the point of view of a hapless but competent male lead who is wonderfully endearing in his various incarnations. While she rarely writes a female POV, her female characters are generally just as full-bodied and strong as the male characters.

Cherryh’s works are extensive and I haven’t read all of them, but they generally fall into a number of series or universes, some of which she still returns to, some of which seem done. My favourites include the Foreigner series, lead character Bren Cameron; the old Morgaine series, lead character Vanye; the Fortress series, lead characters Cefwyn and Tristan; and the Rider  series, currently only two books, the first of which (Rider at the Gate) managed to make me sincerely grieve the death of character who dies before the book opens and we never actually get to meet.

One of her most developed universes is the Alliance-Union divided universe, first introduced (I think) in Downbelow Station. The opening chapter of this book is still one of the best prologues I’ve ever read in the way it sets up the rest of the story beautifully.

I also love her way with made-up words (she has a background in, among other things, linguistics). I often find the use of artificial words scattered through a book irritating: I can see that authors want to make the point that this is a different world or reality where English is not the base language, but I look at it this way: if every other word in this supposed foreign language was translated to English, why not the words meaning chicken, coffee, or chair? If something looks like a chicken and acts like a chicken, call it a chicken and stop making me flip to the glossary.

But Cherryh has perfected the art of having something look like a chicken but act like a duck, to torture the metaphor a bit more. Her made-up words are for alien concepts, actions and objects that do not have simple English translations. And I particularly appreciate that she generally doesn’t supply a glossary – pay attention and she gives you enough to work out what the made-up word represents, rather than just blindly substituting made-up noun for English noun and slapping on a glossary (which is just pandering to laziness from both reader and author).

Her website is here.

Last time I reviewed one of my favourite authors, it was someone relatively obscure (Connie Willis). This week, I’m looking at one of the big guns of fantasy fiction: Mr George R.R. Martin. Is anyone else sending him good thoughts so that he might finish his Song of Ice and Fire series some time in the next ten years?

The first book, A Game of Thrones, was pressed on me by a friend and I was reluctant to start reading since I find many mere trilogies bloated and event-driven to spin out the story over three books (why is it that multiple-book series are almost compulsory in the fantasy genre whether the story calls for it or not?), and Martin’s series was already projected to be at least five books.

It did take a little while to sink into – every chapter is told from one of a handful of POV characters and there’s several it would’ve been nice to skip - but by the time The Event happens at the end of A Game of Thrones, I was hooked. Over the whole story (so far, four of the projected seven), Martin has managed such a complex intertwined story, cast of characters, and history,that he must have a super-computer hooked up to track it for him.

The power of the series, I think, comes partly from the complex plotting, but also the full-bodied characters. There have been moments reading this series where I have shouted at various characters (the lead-up to the Red Wedding, for example) as if they might hear me and change their actions, or where I felt relief to reach a chapter from a favoured character we’d left in danger.

And has there ever been a turn-around like Jaime? From sleeping with his sister and throwing small boys of windows in Book 1, to getting his own POV chapters in Book 3 and transforming into a sympathetic character and even almost-but-not-quite a hero. Thankfully, the same didn’t happen for Cersei when she got her own POV; she’s just as much fun to hate as ever.

This series was the first one I’ve ever committed to that wasn’t finished already, and now I share the pain of the fans of Robert Wheel-of-never-ever-ever-ending-Time Jordan. Except at least Martin is still alive. And his series is not going to twelve books. I sincerely hope.

Martin’s official site can be found here. It includes preview chapters and news, and lists of his extensive works. It’s such an ugly site I’d suggest he takes some time to redesign it, except he’s not allowed to stop writing until he Gets The Next Book Out Already. There’s also a HBO series in the offing.

Connie Willis is one of my favourite SF authors, but, at least in Australia, she is shamefully under-rated (and therefore not widely available in the bookstores). She’s written short stories, novellas and novels and has Hugos and Nebulas coming out of her ears.

To Say Nothing of the Dog was the first work I read. Aside from it being about my favourite SF plot, time travel, it’s funny, clever and plain all-out charming. Spouting poetry, quoting literature, messing about in boats, Ned and Verity blunder through Victorian England rescuing cats, fleeing scary Duchesses and causing space-time continuum upsets. It was even better once I discovered Lord Peter a little while later.

Doomsday Book was next. It’s set in the same Oxford-based time-travelling for historical research world as To Say Nothing of the Dog but darker as befits its subject matter: plague. The story is divided between following a young research historian in the time of the Black Death, and ‘modern-day’ Oxford (actually near-future Oxford in a world where funding was obviously poured into developing time travel rather than mobile phones and the internet…) as a deadly strain of flu hits. Again, I loved the characters, I loved the story development, I loved the writing. I couldn’t put it down and I even got teary at the end.

I’ve read a handful of the short stories (Fire Watch is another time travel one, set during the Blitz on London, a powerful time period), novellas (The Winds of Marble Arch, Inside Job), and books (Passage, Bellwether). She excels at romantic comedy but does dark and serious too. The best thing is, she’s never let me down and I still have more of her works to track down.

Here’s her official site, with links to some stories and latest news. She’s working on a new time-travel work.

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