As with almost everything genre-related in my life, the reason I became interested this year in reading as many Hugo Award-eligible works as I can before March 28 this year is all thanks to my former college professor Dr. Atara Stein (may you rest in peace).
As a young undergrad at Cal State Fullerton, I had taken her Science Fiction literature class because I’d become interested in learning how other people have written science fiction in the hopes that I would be able to write my own. One of the first things she told us on the first day was that because even the science fiction genre encompassed a wide breadth of topics and themes, we would be focusing on what to her embodied what science fiction was as its very heart: What does it mean to be an intelligent “human”?
Through the clarifying lens of the “artificial intelligence” theme, a partial list of everything I read that school year is as follows: Neuromancer, Frankenstein, “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream,” Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, and He, She and It. We also watched the director’s cut versions of Blade Runner and Terminator 2 as well as the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “The Measure of a Man” (because she was also a secret Trek fanfic writer on the side).
It’s because of her college course that my philosophy about what makes “good” science fiction has to flow from satisfying at least two of these three criteria:
Does the work examine what it means to be “human” in some extensive way?
Is a very important part of how the plot and/or setting works tied to the use of technology created by sentient beings?
It is very improbable that the events in the setting of the book will happen during my lifetime?
This is a rubric which I’ve been following both consciously and sub-consciously my entire life, and it’s the rubric by which I plan to read and critique as many science fiction comics, short stories, novellas, and novels as are eligible for the 2016 Hugo Awards as I can before the nomination deadline of March 31.
One of my favorite blogs to dip into from time to time is Smart Bitches, Trashy Books. Originated by writers Candy Tan and Sarah Wendell, the blog seeks to showcase what’s good, fun, informative, sexy, and surprisingly intelligent about the romance novel industry through their irreverent and occasionally deep book reviews.
Growing up, I loved romance novels. In my parents’ bedroom, half of a shelf was dedicated to Danielle Steel books. These were “forbidden” books so naturally as a teen, I devoured all of them. Once I graduated from college, reading romance novels became something my mom, my sister, and I could talk about—just as long as we didn’t talk too long about the sex scenes, that is.
About a year ago, I decided that I wanted to get back into reading some romance and especially finding a new author to follow as I’d phased out of my Danielle Steele, Fern Michaels, Catherine Coulter, LaVyrle Spencer, Maeve Binchy, Jennifer Crusie phase of reading. And before you ask, even Nora Roberts’ romance novels had been wearing a bit thin. Thankfully, Candy and Sarah have a section on their website devoted to their “best” blog entries, which is how I learned about Loretta Chase. Armed with a new name, some Amazon.com credit, and a visit to the bookstore, I was ready to read.
Two books enter… who will win?
Since it was the top recommendation, I dived into Lord of Scoundrels first. What struck me at first was how important the prologue was to understanding the entire novel and most importantly, creating a wave of sympathy for male lead Sebastian Ballister, the Marquess of Dain, the Earl of Blackmoor—and also an emotionally-abused young boy who grew up to be a rake.
With the prologue establishing a strong motive for Lord Dain’s behavior, Chase fast-forwards a bit in time to switch to the other half of this romantic duo, Miss Jessica Trent. The daughter of a gentleman, her character is firmly established as being a bit eccentric for the Regency era in that she would prefer to become a shopkeeper (an antiques dealer, really) rather than accept any of the numerous marriage proposals she’s been tendered due to the women in her family having a reputation for being fertile. In fact, if there are any problems I have with this book is that Jessica seems too good to be true.
Take this early passage for example, which is a description of Jessica by her brother’s butler:
[Jessica Trent] had inherited her widowed grandmother’s alluring looks: the silken hair nearly blue-black in color, almond-shaped silver-grey eyes, alabaster complexion, and graceful figure—all of which…had proved immune to the ravages of time.
More important…Miss Jessica had inherited her late father’s brains, physical agility, and courage. She could ride, fence, and shoot with the best of them. Actually, when it came to pistols, she was the best of the whole family, and that was saying something. During two brief marriages, her grandmother had borne four sons by her first husband…and two by her second…and daughters and sons alike had bred males in abundance. Yet not a one of those fine fellows could outshoot Miss Jessica.
If a character is too perfect (that is, heading into Mary Sue-ville), I find it hard to like them. When I read a romance novel, I want to believe wholeheartedly that the romance will work out, that the heroine will be able to triumph over her adversaries. In short, I like underdogs in romance; with this setup I found myself gravitating more towards Dain than to Jessica. And in fact, I wonder if that’s what Chase wanted her readers to do: to see the male lead as the “damsel in distress” and the female lead as the perfect lover who will come along and “fix” all of his problems. With that interpretation, Scoundrels becomes a somewhat post-modern romance novel, endearing me to it even more.
When Dain has his big moment of epiphany, it comes naturally because of everything you’ve seen him endure before—especially the slow change of his character from anti-hero to hero due to The Power of Lurrrve™. That he undergoes this change without losing everything that still makes him appealing is also a testament to how well Chase has created him.
Contrariwise, I couldn’t find anything redeeming about either lead character in Your Scandalous Ways. The reason why I purchased it was because I’ve always had a soft spot for hookers with a heart of gold. Upon learning that the lead female was a cortigiana onesta in almost post-Napoleonic Venice in the same vein as Veronica Franco, I had the book in my hand and my credit card in the cashier’s faster than you could say, “Boo.” Unfortunately, I was disappointed to meet Mrs. Francesca Bonnard who was less “classy courtesan” and more “flighty ethical slut.” Not that I have anything against ethical sluts, but dammit, I was expecting a story about an intelligent courtesan!
Francesca’s adversarial lover is Mr. James Cordier, a world-weary spy for the British who has been charged with retrieving important documents from Mrs. Bonnard’s possession. He wants nothing more but to get the mission done and end his spying career in favor of an average life in England; of course, he falls head-over-heels for Francesca for reasons that are never really clearly defined. Despite a rather inventive way of beginning Francesca’s introductory chapter (“Penises. Everywhere.”) I couldn’t find anything interesting enough about her personality or background story to intrigue me. It was worse with James, because just like Jessica Trent, he seemed too perfect.
It’s not just the characters that bother me about Ways either. The central conflict is the cat-and-mouse game between James and Francesca, but the latter isn’t smart enough to realize that James has an ulterior motive in getting to know her until about halfway through the book. When it came time for the final confrontation between Francesca and James on one side and a murderous traitor and his/her lackey, the climax and resolution was brief and predictable that I almost felt as if I’d wished I hadn’t gone to the bother of trying to finish the book.
So, the winner of this battle is Lord of Scoundrels, and if there’s anything that this experience taught me, it’s to make sure I read chapter excerpts before I go trying to read another Loretta Chase book again.
[Editor’s Note: Many thanks to Lauren at Kid Champ for letting me borrow her “Thundertome” idea for this review series. – TL]
When I first got my Android-enabled phone, I searched for something to read on it during a long 45 minute subway commute. A Google search for “free ebooks” took me to Google Books and their app, and I downloaded two books by Jane Austen, one I’d never read before (Sense and Sensibility), and one I’ve read so very many times over the years: Pride and Prejudice.
The first time I read Pride and Prejudice was outside of a school context, and while the text was somewhat unwieldy to me, I really loved the story of these two mismatched lovers who have to get over themselves before they can really appreciate each other and fall in love. Over the years, I’ve read the book hundreds of times, and I was looking forward to reading it all over again. As I turned the pages on the touch screen with my thumbs, the finer details of the story sunk deeper into my brain and I began to gain a new appreciation for the story. Which, of course, lead to my next thought: How can I read more?
The great thing for fan-fiction authors about Jane Austen’s novels is that they’re currently in the public domain, which means that anyone can take her setting, characters, stories, add on to the story, and actually stand a reasonable chance of having it published by a reputable publishing house. There have been versions where the characters are dealing with a zombie apocalypse, a continuation that features a lot of Regency-era sex, and even one where Mrs. Bennett is a stereotypical Jewish mother.
However, I wasn’t interested in any of those, not yet at least. I wanted to read something as historically accurate as possible,and as true to the original characters as one could get without hijacking Austen using a time machine. After reading lots of reviews, I finally settled on two Kindle books, which I quickly purchased and started reading the next day:
Two books enter, who will win…?
I read Assembly first because the premise intrigued me more. As a female writer, I have problems with writing from a male perspective and I really applaud those writers who are great at writing characters who are an opposite gender. I really wanted to see how Aidan portrayed Mr. Darcy’s internal conflict over his growing feelings for Elizabeth, as Austen herself only writes near the beginning of Chapter 12, “She attracted him more than he liked.”
In Aidan’s book, Darcy is properly the cold and frosty gentleman that Austen shows him to be, and she even adds a hint of crushing superiority, as seen in this description of the attendees of the assembly:
There was no beauty, conversation, or fashion to be found in the entire room save among those with whom he had arrived. Rather, he was surrounded by the common, the dull, and the trite, that class of the barely gentrified whose idea of conversation was no more than gossip — and that of the vulgar sort of which he was the current object. Darcy could not help but compare his present circumstance with the last time he had been to Tattersall’s in search of a suitable new Thoroughbred stallion for his brood mares. Then and there, he privately vowed to purchase no more horseflesh at auction.
She also explains his friendship with Mr. Bingley by introducing the idea that they met after Darcy overheard some men at his gentleman’s club planning a cruel joke on Bingley; their friendship sprang out of Bingley’s true good nature. There’s also the idea that Darcy sees himself as Bingley’s mentor; this is borne out by some great scenes later in the novel where the two are in the gentleman’s parlor at Netherfield and the former is passing along all the stewardship lessons that his father taught him.
I also can find nothing out of tune with Austen’s novel in how Aidan characterizes Darcy’s relationship with his sister or his opinions of Miss Bingley’s marriage designs on him (though she doesn’t comment on the fact that Austen makes it clear that Darcy wanted Bingley to marry Georgiana). Some of my favorite parts of the beginning of this novel involve Darcy’s internal monologue, as in this passage where he’s trying to figure out more of Elizabeth’s personality:
No, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not impressed with the London sophistication of Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst, nor did she appear to feel the necessity of inveigling her way into Caroline’s good graces, as most of her neighbors were doing this very moment [while paying their social calls]. Instead, thought Darcy with dawning comprehension, she found Miss Bingley’s manner objectionable! Far from cultivating her, she had, by the drollery in her eyes, assigned her a place among the ridiculous, as one might do with an amusing but slightly mad relation. Having satisfied himself on what Miss Elizabeth Bennet was about, Darcy found the discovery to have engendered two equal and opposite emotions, which struggled manfully in his breast. The first was to stiffen in indignation at the impertinence of the lady in judging her betters. The second was an impulse to laugh in agreement with her assessment. A twinkle had almost reached Darcy’s eye when he was struck with the remembrance that Miss Bingley was not the only resident of Netherfield who amused Miss Elizabeth Bennet. The twinkle was ruthlessly suppressed as he considered again her manner toward himself.
His further thoughts lead him to conclude that Elizabeth overheard his infamous “She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me” remark, and his response to it is to think of it as a challenge:
If she had chosen to sulk, he would be bound [to apologize], but as it was, she had elected to draw swords. Darcy looked up again and found Elizabeth Bennet at the side of her elder sister, both of them looking at a portfolio of Miss Bingley’s latest sketches. A bold move! He smiled to himself. I understand you now, but I fear you are not up to weight if you think to play that game with me! The smile was now accompanied by a satirical eye as he bent to the task of discovering more fully his adversary’s qualities.
I think that this interpretation of how Darcy found himself thinking more about Elizabeth concurs nicely with the original Elizabeth-spoken interpretation:
The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them.
With this basis in place, the rest of the novel proceeds extraordinarily well, right up until Darcy and Bingley’s departure from Netherfield in Chapter 11—and where almost everything in Assembly falls apart. The inclusion of the character of Fletcher as Darcy’s valet was cute in Netherfield, but becomes a bit too much to deal with in these chapters as he takes a more prominent position in the narrative. And while I rather like the introduction of additional characters in the form of Darcy’s secretary Mr. Hinchcliffe and Darcy’s friend from university Lord Brougham, I felt betrayed by Aidan when she decided to mix in historical figures like Beau Brummell (and turn him into a more frightening Tim Gunn) and allude to the political climate of the day with the mentions of people like Viscount Castlereagh and George Canning, thus tempering my love for this book into a conditional acceptance. To me, even though we know that the book takes place during the Regency period, there’s something wrong with knowing more details about what year, and even though to be involved with or at least knowledgeable about such political affairs would be within the purview of a gentleman such as Mr. Darcy, it goes against so much of what I love about Austen’s work in that it’s timeless and apolitical.
There are two more novels in Aidan’s Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman trilogy, the second of which takes place entirely before his visit to his aunt in Rosings Park. In contrast, Simonsen’s A Wife for Mr. Darcy takes place in one book, and due to its premise, the events are different. My reading of the novel started well enough, beginning with a private apology from Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet for his uncouth remarks at the Meryton assembly. Simonsen skillfully interweaves lines from some of Darcy’s later speeches into the their little tête-à-tête, and the result is near-seamless and amusing:
“Your apology is accepted, Mr. Darcy. I appreciate that you took the trouble to come to tell me in person that I am more than tolerable,” Lizzy said, half laughing at his clumsy effort to repair any damage resulting from his comment.
Darcy winced at her response. “I can assure you that I find you to be much more than tolerable, Miss Elizabeth. You are a very handsome woman, and I might have had an opportunity to express such a sentiment if I had sought an introduction. However, I do not have the talent of conversing easily with those whom I have never seen before. I cannot appear to be interested in their concerns as others do, and I find I have little patience for the type of discourse one hears at these dances.”
“What type of discourse is that, Mr. Darcy?”
“The usual banter about weather and roads and other such things that are of little interest to me,” and leaning forward in his chair, he continued, “Whether it be Meryton or London, I hear the same conversations. A lady will comment on the number of couples in attendance at a dance, and the gentleman will respond by mentioning the size of the ballroom. And what, pray tell, do we learn from that exchange? One party is good with measurements, and the other can count.”
Simonsen also acknowledges Austen’s reasons why Darcy would be impressed by Elizabeth, and the scenes between him and Elizabeth when they meet again at the Lucas residence seem almost perfunctory. It isn’t until the Chapter 3 when everything goes completely off the rails with the introduction of Simonsen’s Georgiana Darcy. I couldn’t put my finger on what it is I didn’t like about her, and then it hit me during this exchange in Chapter 7, when she decides to attend the ball at Netherfield:
Georgiana, whose clothes were made by the finest dressmakers in London, laughed. “I am going to Netherfield for the purpose of attending a ball, not to shop in Meryton.”
“Forgive me. I am tired. As an aside, you may be interested to know that after the ball, Louisa and Caroline will return to town, and Mrs. Crenshaw will come to keep house for Bingley.”
“Mrs. Crenshaw and her little band of ruffians! The same ones who put mud in my riding boots? I am convinced that it was Athena who actually did the deed, but she was put up to it by those monster brothers of hers.”
“I can easily believe it. When Bingley leased the house in Surrey, I saw Athena throwing rocks at the ducks. For such a little girl, she was remarkably accurate.”
“Why does Charles put up with their obnoxious behavior?”
“He finds them spirited.”
“Spirited! If they were in my care, I would spirit them away to the nearest woodshed for a proper whipping.”
It was not long after this that I stopped reading the book and I haven’t been convinced I should return to it any time soon, as this goes completely against Austen’s description of Georgiana Darcy (through Elizabeth’s eyes): “Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning such different feelings.” (Translation: Georgiana is not nearly as outspoken as Darcy is.)
In writing this article, I’ve skipped ahead in A Wife for Mr. Darcy as well, just to be sure that I’m giving Simonsen and her novel a fair shake, and encountered more of what turned me off: allusions to the then-current political climate, breaches in etiquette and conduct during Elizabeth and the Gardiner’s visits to Pemberley. The final straw came in the form of this line of internal monologue when Darcy confronts Lydia about George Wickham: “Grabbing a wooden chair from the hallway, Darcy brought it into the room and sat opposite to Lydia, and he thought what a little shit she was [emphasis mine].” If I could get a refund on a Kindle book, I would.
So congratulations go to Pamela Aidan for this victory over Mary Lydon Simonsen in the world of Pride & Prejudice published fan fiction. And now I’m off to research how to remove and scrub a Kindle book from your library.
When I first dreamed up the idea behind GeekingOutAbout.com, I was determined that one of the key things we would always do is to not only highlight what’s neat and geeky out there in the world but also to highlight those other creative people who are choosing to get up off of their butts and make their dreams a reality. That’s why I was extremely excited when a fanfic author named Jennifer Matarese whose work I’ve followed for years finally self-published her first original fiction novel to the Kindle, with other eBook formats to come.
Titled Heroine Addiction, it’s the story of Vera Noble, a retired bisexual superheroine who is just trying to live a quiet life in a small town. Unfortunately, the world of capes and crusaders catches up with her when her father Everett, a notable hero in the big city, is reported missing by his arch-nemesis and secret male lover and Vera is the only one who is able to find him.
To celebrate the release of her first book, Matarese has decided that instead of setting aside some cash to buy ads on high profile blogs or to create print copies to sign and place in her local bookstore as promotion, she will be donating either $100 or 50% of the net proceeds of all of the sales of the first edition her book (whichever is larger) to a charity that works with GLBTQ teens.
“Heroine Addiction is a book about a strong bisexual woman who walks away from her previous life and her family drama,” she wrote by email. “While I was considering which charity to donate to, I thought about the difference between Vera and her father, Everett, who finally leaves his wife for his own worst (male) enemy. Vera coming out as bisexual did not end in tears and recriminations. For all their faults, her parents would never turn her away for that. Everett, on the other hand, would not have been so lucky. Regardless of his station in life, Everett would have ended up alone and out on the street if he’d come out of the closet to his parents as a teenager. His father’s pride in and loyalty to his family only went so far.”
She chose the Hetrick-Martin Institute, an organization whose mission is to help GLBTQ teens and young adults who need a safe and supportive environment by providing direct services and referrals that will help guide them through a most difficult period in their lives. The Hetrick-Martin Institute is also home to the Harvey Milk High School, a fully accredited public high school which aims to provide a quality education to all teens in an environment that is free of the bullying and intolerance one might find in other schools.
“It’s appalling that there is a need for such a school in this country,” continued Matarese, “that there is a need for a safe place for GLBTQ teens who’ve been kicked out of their homes, bullied out of their schools, or shouldered out of their families specifically for being themselves. That said, the organization does a lot of good for GLBTQ teens stuck in an awful situation, and I can’t wait to make my first donation.”
Recently, there has been an issue about there not being enough female creators who work in genre fiction, specificallywithsuperheroes. I am glad to say that due to the quality of her work, Jennifer Matarese deserves have her name added to the list of those who do.
And if by buying her book means you get to indirectly help save a troubled teen’s life, then that’s something truly heroic, isn’t it?
Back when I was in elementary school, the one book I had a love/hate relationship with was A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. We read it in our GATE class because it was a Newbery Award winner and one of the first science fiction books aimed at children.
I thought the plot of the book was rather cool, but I wasn’t great at sticking to the same chapters as the rest of the class or turning in the vocabulary homework. As a result, the D- I got that semester was the lowest I ever received and I got into trouble with my parents.
If I’d made a video like this when I was a kid, I wonder if my teacher would have raised my grade?
Created by children’s book author James Kennedy (The Order of Odd-Fish), this hilarious video was made in order to promote the 90 Second Newbery contest which he is holding jointly with the New York Public Library.
The challenge is to take either an award winner or a Newbery Honor winner and to recap the story in 90 seconds. Submissions in link form are due on September 15, 2011 and even fanfic crossover videos could even be considered, according to Kennedy who added:
If the film is sufficiently ingenious, we might even bend the rules. Okay, I admit it: for years I’ve wanted to see the rodents of Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh (1972) fight their counterparts in The Tale of Despereaux (2004). Rat-fights make for gripping cinema!
I really can’t argue with the man on that point. So, round up your kids, the neighbor’s kids, your nieces and/or nephews, cousins… basically grab as many child actors as you can, and you too could have your video screened at the film festival this fall.
The book in question is called Shatnerquake by Jeff Burk and Wheaton’s description makes it sound like it’s as much of fun read as Free Enterprise was to watch:
It’s like Lloyd Kaufman and Sam Rami’s mutant offspring wrote a book. It’s very funny, and doesn’t try to be anything other than what it is: The William Shatner locked in surreal and hyperreal mortal combat with every character he’s ever played, from the Priceline guy to Kirk.
I just downloaded the book and am throwing a little tip money into Burk’s jar, and I’ll tell you why: It’s all because of movies like Clerks and Paranormal Activity.
I love that Kevin Smith maxed out his credit cards to make a little black and white movie about my generation and most of that money went to securing the music rights. I love that Oren Peli’s casting notice was so unconventional that no regular agency would have ever considered sending any actors to the auditions.
I love how people like Smith and Peli and now Burk took a chance with their art and how that with interaction via Twitter and the blogosphere, us “normal” non-Hollywood types can have a way to give back and help them succeed. The “cost” of the free download is to write a review on Amazon or GoodReads and you bet I’ll be doing that tonight after I leave the office.
I wish more filmmakers interacted with the public this way.
As with almost everything genre-related in my life, the reason I became interested this year in reading as many Hugo Award-eligible works as I can before March 28 this year is all thanks to my former college professor Dr. Atara Stein (may you rest in peace).
If you’re a