Oct 232008
 

I had the privilege recently to read the Sharing Knife series by Lois McMaster Bujold, courtesy of Eos. This four volume series tells the story of the young farmgirl Fawn and her relationship with the middle-aged Dag. As a patroller, Dag is responsible for walking the land looking for the life-sucking demons known as blight boggles or malices. As a widower, he’s also walking the land looking for death.

Then he rescues the helpless, pregnant Fawn from the slimy grasp of a moderately powerful malice; but not before the creature manages to literally rip the life from her three month old fetus. Dag nurses Fawn back to health, and in the course of doing so falls once again into love. Their love is, of course, forbidden by both their peoples but neither cares.

You see, in their world, there are patrollers and there are farmers. The latter group basically encompasses all the not-patrollers: farmers, merchants, soldiers, and regular people who don’t have the extrasensory powers of the patrollers. It’s a classic case of love bridging the division of right-side/wrong-side of the tracks. There is prejudice and mistrust on both sides and neither group feels very comfortable with the other.

As one-half of a multi-racial marriage, this particular theme struck a chord with me. When Dag and Fawn marry and neither group is really willing to accept them, where will they live? Will their respective families allow them to remain together or try to force them asunder? Where does a young couple make their home when their roots are at odds? Is their relationship strong enough to face the inevitable prejudice and doubt of their friends and family?

Then throw in the fact that these demon-like malices are emerging more and more frequently to face a dwindling supply of kamikazi patrollers willing to donate their heart’s deaths to their destruction. The big question then is – Can Dag stay married to and protect Fawn without walking away from the responsibilities that he’s shouldered for his entire life? Can he convince both sides that they need each other in the fight for their very existence?

One of the central themes throughout the seres is whether one open-minded couple can change the very structure of their world. Horizon doesn’t necessarily come right out and answer that question. By the last paragraph, Dag and Fawn have made a very good start. Some very small social changes, combined with a very dramatically portrayed final battle with an extremely strong and destructive malice, are an excellent start. But Bujold doesn’t give us the answer to that question. She leaves us with the same things we have in this world: A good idea, a head start, and a whole lot of hope.

I enjoyed this series very much. It was a deep, well-woven tapestry with some of the best world-building I’ve ever seen. Stories are like relationships. Some of them reach out, grab you by the heart and leave you breathless, wanting more. The Sharing Knife is more like that solid, dependable guy you once dated. Remember? He’s the one who always opened doors and remembered your birthday, giving you the same flowers every year. You smile to think about him; you enjoyed his company. But you broke up with him a year ago because that “spark” just wasn’t there. I didn’t fall in love with the world, but it was a very pleasant distraction to retreat into for a time.

The age difference between Fawn and Dag creeped me out a little. I understand that Fawn’s youthful eighteen-year-old exuberance is meant to give the fifty-five-year-old Dag something new to live for. I just have to admit that my skin crawled just a little bit every time I thought of it.

I was impressed by the way Bujold managed to portray a one-handed hero without ever making it seem like he was handicapped. Dag’s maiming fit into the story without it being something he needed to “over come” in order to live normally. It simply was an aspect of him, like having dark hair or being tall. Having only one hand wasn’t any more a detriment to Dag than having brown eyes is to me.

Overall, I think this series sits at a very solid B. It’s not something I’ll race to re-read but it’s nice to know it’s there in case I’d like to revisit it.

Rating: ★★★¼☆ 

Oct 102008
 

Dreaming Again is lovingly crafted from submissions edited by Jack Dann. You can tell from his introduction that this truly was a labor of love. Some of the stories are bitter-sweet, most are creepy, all are speculative fiction. I’ll admit to putting the book down half-way through. Not that I didn’t enjoy the stories, but more because my personal preferences run toward full-length novels, preferably series. Short fiction gives me just enough time to become committed and then, like the bad one night stand, leaves me frustrated and wanting more.

The stories include some from John Birmingham, Trudi Canavan, Sara Douglass, Margo Lanagan, Garth Nix, and a previously unpublished work from A. Bertram Chandler. Maybe I’m a naughty fiction reader but the only ones I recognize are Trudi Canavan and Sara Douglass; Ms. Douglass is the only author who’s work I’ve experienced previously.

My favorite of the ones I read was Sean McMullen’s “The Constant Past”. Maybe I just have a thing for librarians, but one who can stop a time-travelling serial killer is one that has my interest. “This Is My Blood” by Ben Francisco and Chris Lynch, about a world-hopping missionary, seriously creeped me out and I’m still wondering whether the main character survived her ordeal.

Angela Slatters “The Jacaranda Wife” is an Australian fairy tale that just happens to have been written recently instead of hundreds of years ago. I didn’t even bother to try to make sense of Lucy Sussex’s “Robots & Zombies, Inc.” because the forward described the story as one side of a conversation- a taped interview missing the questions. After the first couple of lines, I couldn’t make sense of it so I gave up.

Overall, I do intend to eventually finish the short stories contained in Dreaming Again. I think I’ll need to take them in small doses, preferably not just before bed. (I told you they were creepy.) The tales so far have been of high quality, being extremely well written. I think I’ll take a break with something from my usual genre, and then I’ll be ready to tackle the second half.

Here’s a short recap of the ones I did read:

Old Friends (Garth Nix)- Intriguing. Left me feeling like I missed a large chunk of the story, which I think is part of what the author wanted.

A Guided Tour in the Kingdom of the Dead (Richard Harland) – Basically just creepy, and didn’t make a lot of sense to me.

This is My Blood (Ben Francisco and Chris Lynch) – Made my flesh creep, but I liked it. Definitely left me wanting more.

Nightship (Kim Westwood) – Futuristic pirate gender-bender where sex is assigned based on your job/role. Interesting, but the one peek was enough for me, thanks.

The Fooly (Terry Dowling) – Creepy ghost story for creepy little ghosties. An interesting twist.

Neverland Blues (Adam Browne) – Made me sad/pitying. Makes me wonder just how twisted this author’s mind is.

The Jacaranda Wife (Angela Slatter) – The Grimm fairy tale that is only not included because it hadn’t yet been written.

The Constant Past (Sean McMullen) – My favorite of the lot, about a time travelling serial killer and the librarian who thwarts him.

The Forest (Kim Wilkins) – Scary retelling of Hansel and Gretel, with some insightful social commentary.

Robots & Zombies, Inc (Lucy Sussex) – Gave up on this one two lines in. Too confusing to read, but I thought it was an interesting format to try.

The Way to The Exit (Sara Douglass) – A historical paradox. Shows Douglass’ continuing love affair with London.

Grimes and the Gaijin Daimyo (A. Bertram Chandler) – Hadn’t read anything by this author before; I’m thinking I’ll look him up. Sad that he’s gone before I got a chance to “meet” him and his characters.

Lure (Paul Collins) – Scarily realistic tale of an avatar-killing virus and the social repercussions of investing too much time in a virtual world.

Empire (Simon Brown) – I liked the flash-back appeal of this story, even though I’ve never been fond of Martians.

Lakeside (Christopher Green) – Just creepy. Could have done without it.

Troll’s Night Out (Jenny Blackford) – Too short. I liked it. The afterward that told how the idea occurred to the author was almost as entertaining as the story itself.

Rating: ★★¼☆☆ 

Oct 102008
 

For those of you who don’t know, NaNoWriMo – or NaNo, for short – is National Novel Writing Month. Every November, authors and aspiring authors of every caliber and from all walks of life come together at nanowrimo.org to write 50,000 words in 30 days.

Now, most professional authors know that 50k is much too small to be a “real” novel, but 50,000 words is very doable for an amatuer in 30 days. And it’s a large enough number that the work can have a beginning, a middle, and an end. For most people, getting to that elusive end is the daunting, and magical, part.

So I’ll be setting Inferno aside so that I can be focused on something new this November 1st at midnight, when the madness begins. If you’re willing to give it a try, go ahead and sign up at the link above. Even if you don’t make it to 50k, you’ll be one step closer to your goal.