Author Archive
I really wanted to be in NaNoWriMo this year. But reality raised it’s ugly head and I realized I’d have a hard time handling my other commitments without having to lock myself up for several hours every day writing. But, if I had participated, I think this is how I would have started: Gordon’s Knot; Prologue. Enjoy!
Random bird song, because autumn is here.
Enjoy!
As I was at my mother’s cottage in the deep woods of Sweden and not, as it were, in NYC, I had limited spectators on my run. But hey! The sheep looked interested (and interesting, I was getting a bit peckish) and the birds fled as I flew, so I’m not complaining. It was a brilliant mid-autumn afternoon, with the sun hanging low in the sky and all leafs just barely starting to change colours…
Some light Saturday night etymology anyone?
The first time I encountered the word fartlek I was amused that something would turn up in English that is so close to Swedish. Not that the word exists in Swedish, but the composite “fart” and “lek” does mean “speed” and “play”, which I found rather funny. Well, the jokes on me obviously since it is a Swedish idea from the 40′s by Gösta Holmér when he was training cross country teams…
“Doesn’t this feel like it’s something you shouldn’t be doing? Like this is something forbidden you’re getting away with?”
The question is posed by Christopher McDougall as he introduces Brian Fidelman to barfoot running in Central Park, NY. And for some reason the question stuck with me. There’s a lot of stuff we’re not supposed to do. Smiling when running is one thing. Running too much is another: As Mårten Klingberg points out in Swedish Runner’s World, training 3 times a week constitutes about 2% of your total time, and yet he is the one getting strange looks for training 7-9 times a week…
Random birdsong, dissonant mind:
Enjoy!
Prador Moon: A Novel Of The Polity by Neal Asher
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I picked this up out of curiosity after seen Neal Asher on the local SF book store. What I was after was a straight forward space opera; I thought anything more than that would be a bonus. And yes, that’s what I got.
Several other reviewers has complained that this book might not be as good as Neal Asher is supposed to be. And having read it, I think I can see that: there is capacity here, there’s good pacing, and interesting characters. However, there’s also a shallowness in the story, the world building and the character interactions.
Did I say character interactions? Er.. Well, there’s one point down then: there really isn’t much of interplay at all. The main characters do their thing separately through much of the book, and when they’re finally put together the author quickly separates them again. As a romantic sucker, I do not agree.
There’s graphic violence. I have however read, say, both Richard K Morgan and Steven Erikson, so I wasn’t too bothered by this.
The action pacing is really nice. In fact, the pacing and spacing in the entire book is good, making it a really quick and engaging read.
Here’s another possible reason the book doesn’t really work: The author tries to tell a surprising amount of the story from the POV of the aliens. It’s kind of dangerous to assume a completely alien mindset as you’re running the risk of 1) removing natural tension as the aliens becomes “knowable”; and 2) humanizing the aliens. Contrasted to some of the best aliens I know of, Stephen Donaldson’s Amnioni, the Prador are easier to understand and hence more predictable and not at all as scary.
So, all in all a fast a furious read. And sometimes, that’s what I want. Also, I do believe this author has more to give, so I’m continuing on, hopeful next book will be a bit better, because then it could be really good.
Some years back, the gang and I started to get interested in light-weight hiking. A small but persistent group of Swedish hikers started moaning about the weight that you traditionally carry around: heavy back pack, heavy tents, and relevant for this post, heavy boots. That’s when I first came into contact with minimalist running, and the ideas that our feet might be best left alone, and unencumbered.
You see, hiking in the Swedish mountains is traditionally done in boots. Rather heavy ones. Preferably with extremely hard and inflexible soles. And Gore Text lining. But more and more people started to point out that 1) it’s dubious that big boots actually prevents injuries; 2) boots can protect you from becoming wet for a while, but once drenched, they stay wet for a very long time; and 3) carrying 800 grams or more per foot isn’t very cost effective, it’s going to drain a lot of energy from you.
And so it goes. We scaled back on our equipment. I went from a pack weighting in on something like 13-14 kilos (excluding food) to 11 kilos last year, and this year I scaled back further, landing on a comfortable 8.5 kilos. But my boots stayed on.
At least until now.
I read “Born to Run”. I discovered Barefoot University. I started following various blogs. In short, I discovered the barefoot/minimalist trend. And there was something that allured to me. These guys and girls seemed to have genuinely fun when running, something that I had lost a few years back. I’ve always had bad knees and stiff ligaments and tendons, but have been running nevertheless the last 12 years or so. But it wasn’t fun anymore. My last longer run, on one of the beaches of Malaga should have been great: sea, sand and sun, what’s not to like? But it wasn’t.
And so I went immediately and bought a pair of Merrel Trail Gloves. I had read up enough to realize that learning barefoot would probably be done best with actual bare feet, but being a barefoot sissy, and running on trails 75% of the time I went minimalist instead. There was also this: I realized there would be an adjustment period, and I figured a pair of shoes that actually looks like ordinary trainers (in contrast to Vibram FiveFingers) could comfortably be used daily, hence giving my feet some needed extra practise.
Obviously I went straight for the beginners most common mistake instead: too far too fast. It felt great! It was fun! I wanted more! And almost immediately I had a sprained Achilles tendon to deal with. Ah well, I’ve always said stupidity is supposed to pay off, so this one’s on me.
And now? Well, today I ran 6 kilometers, which is a the longest so far. Perhaps a bit too long, and I figure my ankles and Achilles will tell me so tomorrow. But damn, it felt great! Two laps around the “block”, where the block being a patch of wood at my mothers cottage in the Swedish woods, and then straight down to the small forest lake for a dip, and it felt like I want running to feel: light, smooth, easy and fun. Lovely stuff!
And next week I’ll head up to the mountains for a 4 day solo hike.
See where this is going? Well, much as I love my boots, and I do, I think they’ll be left home this time. On the other hand, much as I love my Merrels, I don’t think they’ll make it either. Although I’m sorely tempted. The reason being I’m a bit of a chicken again: The mountains I’m going to (for reference, Grövelsjön) are… stony. All Swedish mountains are (as the last ice age reduced our mountains to rubble), and my feet recoil a bit at the thought of walking 5+ hours a day in thin soles with a fair few kilos on my back. But I will go with a pair of Salamon Techamphibian (or similar). They’re fairly light, have a good grip on slippery surfaces, and dry out quickly. That will bring the full weight of my equipment down under 10 kilos. Not bad, not bad.
Also, I think my feet will love me for it!
OK, so here’s a short rant on whet I don’t like with so called “epic” fantasy: the readers and the editors. It’s prompted by a “listopia” list over at Goodreads. Listopia is a place where massive lists of books are created and members vote on the “best” books, and the list changes accordingly. The list triggering my annoyance is of course called “The Best Epic Fantasy“.
I’ll blatantly steal the 20 first books on the list for this post:
So what’s up? A quick look tells us we’ve got Tolkien on 4 spots. Fine, Tolkien is Tolkien, but if we partly discard him we get: 3 children’s books at top 4, Harry Potter as the number one epic fantasy, one science-fiction master piece, 8 standard boring run of the mills fantasy tropes (young man discovers his destiny as king, magician, whatever), no less than 3 George R.R. Martin when there should have been none, only 4 books with any kind of originality, and for fucks sake: the Belgariad? Oh, and I’m ignoring Lewis altogether. Why? Because I really, really don’t like him. This is a rant, remember? My blog, my rules.
(The lists have a problem we should acknowledge: duplications abound. Also, to be “epic” you probably want the entire series, not single books, and hence you’ve got a mismatch of “boxed sets” and single volumes.)
Now then…
Run-of-the-mill fantasy: You know the drill: young man, unknown destiny, dragons, gods trapped under mountains, intelligent horses and a man with fire instead of eyes. Any questions? And yes, that means Tolkien, Eddings, Hobb, Paolini, Goodkind, Rothfuss and Jordan, right there. And to a certain degree Rowling and as well. Not all of them are bad, mind you, but it is extremely annoying that, for example, Goodkind and Eddings ends up a “the best epic fantasy” list.
Romanticism: Certain people are born to rule, born to magic, or otherwise special. Forget egalitarianism, forget democracy, we’re back to the rule of the elite again. OK, so I’m ripping of David Brin here, but the man’s got a point: where’s the visions and the originality? And do we really want a world you’re either born with an ability or you’re not, and you’re not then tough luck. Who questions Aragorns right to rule?
What editor? Hello Goodkind, Rothfuss, Jordan, Rowling, Paolini, Hobb and Martin! Some of the blame of the state of fantasy must be put at the feet of the editors. When an author becomes famous, apparently all rules are off. There’s a very simple explanation for it as well: the readers does not care, they expect the books to be massive. If I’m not mistaken it’s been shown that when it comes to fantasy, thick books sells more than thin ones. Now tell me what that says about the readers…
What does that leave us with? Well, Tolkien should be on the list, that’s a given, and you could argue that he shouldn’t even be on the list at all. But after that? From the top: Jordan had a brilliant voice the first couple of volumes, and for that he deserves recognition. Then of course the “what editor?” sickness kicked in. It’s a pleasant surprise to find Pullman on the list so high up. Originality? Really? I loved Rothfuss flair, but then the “what editor?” destroyed the second book. Stephen King? Well… Yeah, why not? I haven’t read the entire saga yet so I won’t comment. But what I’ve read is certainly head and shoulders above much of the competition. Then Gaiman, and an applaud from me. And Dune, which is undeniably science fiction (although I agree some so called SF is actually Fantasy in space-clothes), but: still damn good.
That’s the rant for tonight: You understand why I don’t like it now? This is apparently what people want. It is what they think is the best. Children’s books, reused plots and romanticism. It’s depressing as hell. I love Fantasy, but I understand why people look down on it: just read that list one more time and I think you’ll understand as well.
A Shadow in Summer by Daniel Abraham
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
This will be a short review as I actually finished this book a while back, and it wouldn’t be fair trying to outline more than the big pictures given my horrible memory.
I really wanted to give this book more than 3 stars. On a scale of 10 it would have been a strong 7. And the reason I wanted to rate it higher is simple: It is not you ordinary run of the mill fantasy. No any orphan discovering their destiny as kings/magicians/gods. No cheesy love story (but a nice triangle, if you know your Arthurian legend you’ll be right at home). A unique magic system. And so on.
However, I never really got gripped by the characters, and I never believed in the story, and here’s why: The magic system, unique as it is, is presented without limits. In this book we’re led to believe that there is *no* boundary in sight; one single “demon” can reach out and rip every single unborn baby right out of their mother’s womb. Literally. From a continent away. And naturally the first thing I ask myself is: why don’t they?
So let’s get abstract for a moment: why don’t they? In any believable world there will be people taking advantage of power, and if you introduce magic that is controllable, you need to explain why the greedy, evil or power hungry has not taken over the world. If you’re going to employ magic make sure there’s things you can’t do, and make sure your readers, who don’t have the implicit knowledge of your characters, are told. You don’t have to go to Harry Potter extremes, nor Eddings but both are examples of magician stories, and within both it is clear that you can’t do everything you want, that there are boundaries for you might.
Power without boundaries is meaningless.
So no, I didn’t really get gripped. I probably will read the rest in the quartet. But not for a while. There’s a lot of other books out there.