Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Just finished the hardback of 20th Century Ghosts, Joe Hill’s collection.  I picked it up for 6$ on the remainder table at Barnes & Noble.  The collection was so overwhelmingly solid and rich, like a good, dense hunk of Granny’s chocolate cake, that I feel ashamed for having paid so little for it. I suppose I’ll have to make up for it by getting HORNS in hardback when it comes out.  After HEART-SHAPED BOX, and now this one, I’d have to be a fool not to.

***

I’ve decided I’m probably not going to blog everything I read next year. I’ve been doing it for the past few years now.  Time to shake things up and see what happens.  It’s been fun to do, in its way.  Interesting to look back over what I’ve read in a year, and see if the stories that affected me strongly then still do.  Analyzing the trends of my own reading has been instructive as well.  But there comes with those benefits a kind of tension:  How much of what I end up reading, and in what order, is shaped by the knowledge that I’ll be blogging about it later?   How does the decision to make a public statement about something I’ve read impact what I have to say about it, what I think about it as I am reading it? The Observer effect is not limited to quantum physics, even though that field doesn’t deign to consider the internalities of the observed.

None of which is to say I won’t blog the occasional exceptional read–I doubt I could stop myself, honestly.  But I’m interested in seeing what happens to my reading and opinions when there aren’t any witnesses.  Maybe in 2011, I’ll start up again, maybe not.  So anyway, just a heads up, in case anyone out there gives a hoot.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Just finished The Touch by F. Paul Wilson. It’s hard to make up my mind how I feel about this novel.  I’m of course an unashamed fanboy of his Repairman Jack books, and there were of course too many moments of “oh cool!” to count in this excursion.  I knew going in to this one (being from the Adversary Cycle instead of the RJ arc) that it had been altered to bring the story into the modern era, so that he can all tie up into one tidy uber-cool Secret History of the World.  Now, I read the old versions of The Keep, The Tomb, and Reborn.

With Reborn, I noted the differences in time and place–the disconnects in crossover character age, etc.–but I was able to put them aside and enjoy the novel for its own sake.  I was able to envision on my own what this story happening in the modern day might have been like, but because the story in front of me hung together well with its own internal consistency, all that meta-stuff connecting this story to the rest of the books didn’t jangle any bells.  The Keep,happening in WWII, was pretty easy to go along with.  And I wasn’t one who felt compelled to go read the updated version of The Tomb, which took Repairman Jack of the 1980s and flashed him forward into the late ’90s.  And still, I’m not really sure how I feel about The Touch.

My main beef (and I totally see why these beefs remained in the story, respect Paul’s craft decisions, enjoyed the hell out of that ending, and so on) is the utter lack of cellphones or internet, or even any mention.  One character goes on about having to type his document into the mainframe and the idea of a Google Alert never really dawned on anyone.  Crucial plot points just wouldn’t have been allowed to go on uninterrupted in a world where spectacularly rich people had heard about the invention of cell phones.  At the same time as these nits are nagging at my suspension of disbelief, we find references to Harry Potter and a clear indication that the end of this book is happening at the same time as the end of Ground Zero.  On the whole, I think I might have enjoyed The Touch just a little better if I hadn’t been plagued by the plot inconsistencies necessitated by moving the story into the Internet Age.

Now it’s a given that I’m going to read the “heavily revised” Nightworld when it comes out.  How could I not?  It will include Jack and be the natural end of a series  (saga, really) I’ve been following for years now.  But Reprisal I’m not so sure about, and here are my questions for any other Repairman Jack/F. Paul Wilson fans out there:

Should I read the original Reprisal or the updated version? Why?  Not knowing anything about the plot beyond its intimate connection with the end of the RJ series, I’m on the fence.  Will I come away thinking the plot suffered too much from the update, or is this book not going to be easily hampered in that way?

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

More stuff read.  Forgot to add this list from the plane rides last week.

Captain Alatriste by Arturo Perez-Reverte. A rousing adventure “memoir” told at a leisurely pace that makes excellent use of the strongest tools of the novelist’s craft.  Love the wry voice, florid characters, and many sardonic jabs at “modern day Spain” (ie a few decades after the story’s 17th early century).  A deviation from my usual prohibition on reading the first book in a series first, mainly because I’d been warned already that the later volumes drag on unexcusably for such short books, but the first is a can’t miss.  Definitely glad I read this one though.

“Nor Idolatry Blind the Eye” (novellette) by Charles Ardai.  Classic, pulpy feel. Came as an ad for the Gabriel Hunt books, which are appealing as all get out, but unbuyable till the present TBR load clears up some.

“Chain of Fools” and “Chain of Stars” (short fiction) by Jay Lake.  A neat premise and fun cast of characters, set in the world of Mainspring.  (And, just barely, off it.)

Weird Tales #353. Favorites were reconnecting with Paul Tremblay’s “Headstones in my Pocket” and Caleb Wilson’s “Court Scranto”.  Also, Jason Heller made me want to go dig up some Ballard and become acquainted.

Talebones #38. Bittersweet, that this issue is nearly the last. The interview of Zelazny by Ken Rand, given the perspective of time and history on each of those men also gave me much to chew on; Zelazny had big plans and was moving forward with them when he moved on from this vale of tears.  I remember loving the Amber books as a teen, though to be honest, I couldn’t even guess what they were about this far down the line.  On the fiction side of the house, Mary Robinette Kowal impressed as always, plus Marshall Payne’s “Sausages” and Tim McDaniel’s “Discards” went down particularly well.

National Geographic (Nov 2009). Once or twice a year I delve into NG. The writing style is always crisp and clear, and it’s a heckuva way to brush up on describing settings, not to mention that it’s a treasure trove of worldbuilding considerations and details.  Lucky for me this one was on-hand when I ran out of everything else I had brought to read.

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Dream Factories & Radio Pictures by Howard Waldrop.  Enthralled by the man’s oeuvre, absolutely enthralled.  Been sipping on this collection of stories and essays for most of the year–a little here, a little there.  A few old favorites and plenty of stuff I hadn’t yet come across.  Of the ones that were new to me, my two favorites were “The Effects of Alienation” and “All About Strange Monsters of the Recent Past”.  Film buffs in particular should be reading Waldrop, especially this volume; anyone with a love for weird mashups and history/nostalgia viewed through a fractured lens needs to give Waldrop a try.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Continuing the cavalcade of stuff I read in 2009.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks, abridged on audio this past week.  Surprisingly good, but I wonder how much of that was the strength of the full cast recording over the actual written book.  Mark Hamill in particular stole the show, but Rob Reiner and Alan Alda were no slouches either in their roles.  I suspect I would have gotten worn out on it in print after a while.

Reading goal for the rest of the year–start no new books and finish all the ones I’ve started.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Going far, far away for a short while.  Didn’t want my catalog of stuff read to end up missing these.

Man’s Search for Meaning (audio) by Victor Frankl.  I’d put this one off for a very long time, and now I regret it.  A gem of a book, with real and valid takeaways that still ring true about what it is we are being, when we go about this business of human being.

The Last Lecture (audio) by Randy Pausch.  Another short one with far more impact than you’d suspect.  More than once it had me dabbing at my eyes.

Scenting the Dark by Mary Robinette Kowal.  I secretly got to read this collection about a year ago and really enjoyed it.  It covers a broad range of types of stories, but never lets you down.  I particularly liked the one about the ecological disaster, though Portrait of Ari might have been my favorite.  Anywho, now it’s published and the rest of you have a chance to see what the fuss is about.  Go forth and buy!

Canticle by Ken Scholes.  If I wasn’t in such a dang pre-travel rush, I’d have a lot more say about this book.  But let me boil it down for you:  Ken’s always been great with titles in his short stories.  And his opening lines aren’t so bad either.  In this book, I noted how startlingly awesome the last line of each POV section tended to be.  One could learn a lot about writing just from studying the way he ends his scenes.  I remember E Bear and maybe a few others raising a concern that there just weren’t enough female characters who do something to hold their interest.  If you’re a person who saw that review and decided to skip the series or the remainder of the books, I urge you strongly to rethink that.  Canticle OVERFLOWS with strong female characters making tough decisions.  In fact, I think on the whole, his female POV scenes are the strongest in this book.  Compared to Lamentation, I’d say the plot and theme were better integrated in Lamentation, but the surprises and excitement of Canticle did more to raise the stakes.  Plus the predominant theme of becoming a complicitor in your own downfall and reckoning just really rocked my socks in a “morality matters, despite the shades of grey” sort of way that they haven’t been rocked since Thomas Covenant.  Wish I had time to go into more detail, because there is so much going on in this book.  I think I noticed a seed developing about Rudolfo’s memory and his ability to rely on it (perhaps as a result of his magicking?)  Guess we’ll have to wait and see.

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One more from the stuff read front, followed by a couple plugs.  Been slow, frustratingly little time to just kick back and read lately, but I did manage to take in a short audiobook.  Still reading CANTICLE in snips and pieces, but it’s just such a crazy time right now, what with all the work, travel and wedding preps and so on.  I ache to have some free time to just kick back and read/write.  Starting to see the value of having a winter once a year… a good reason to stay home more!

The Stranger (audio) by Albert Camus.  I read this story.  It kind of annoyed me.  Then, because I didn’t cry at the end of it, they put me to death.  I feel fairly indifferent about the whole thing.

Of course the next audiobook on deck is Man’s Search For Meaning by Victor Frankl.

***

Extreme Paranormal was on the TiVo a couple nights ago.  A fun show, one I hope they keep running beyond the two episodes scheduled. A very different approach from the other ghost-hunting shows out there.

My friend Rick is a maestro of sound and lights.  Check out what he’s been doing with his house!  There’s plenty more under his account there.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Finished reading this today, and it was one of the better books on writing I’ve read in a while, in terms of sheer breadth and depth of content. Particular favorites among the articles were those by Gary Braunbeck (I’ve seen this lesson taught in workshop, but it is great to have it in a more permanent form), Tom Monteleone on Dialogue, Joe Lansdale’s piece on cross-reading (which ended up turning into the best essay on finding your own voice I’ve ever seen), and of course Jack Haringa’s rant where he puts to rest a slew of delicate writer excuses with all his usual delicious archness. I also got a whole lot out of Michael Knost’s round robin article asking various and sundry horror-folk about their own Aha! moments as a writer.

The style of the book leans strongly toward the conversational, which lends it to being accurately described as a workshop in hard copy, though a few of the sections did feel more formal. The variety of authors and tones made this book a delight to read–there were so many interesting points of view and backgrounds taken into account. The conversational approach and a few of the editorial decisions may lead some to feel that parts of the book come across as a bit unpolished and overly informal, but such quibblers would be missing the forest for the trees.  (Or maybe in this case: missing the cemetery for the graves…)

Recommended for not just horror writers, but any writer. This one goes on my keeper shelf.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

A Choir of Ill Children by Tom Piccirilli.  An incredible read from start to finish.  As I said elsewhere: I had a hard time deciding whether it was more beautifully weird or weirdly beautiful.  Left me agog with its somehow spare yet florid style and the curlicues of intricacy and intimacy built into every scene.

Kindred by Octavia Butler.  Not so long ago, you folks helped me make up my mind which to read first, between this and a Shirley Jackson.  I loved The Haunting of Hill House for its style and characterization, its abbreviated elegance.  But Kindred on the whole was a far more emotionally affecting read for me.  Both held me captivated in that reader’s trance, but I felt like I was more fully immersed in Dana’s troubles, and more scarred by having shared them.  Thus far this year, I’ve read four novels by women, and one collection I’ll divulge later.  All had their charms.  But none made me feel the fundamental unfairness of a world that I will never otherwise be able to comprehend like Octavia Butler did with this book.  I have no idea why Kindred isn’t shelved with with the very best of psychological horror, and I mean this a high compliment.

Stuff read but not counted

I’m not even going to try to list all the biographies and articles and research reading I’ve been doing for the next novel, codename snodgrass.  But lo, they are substantial!  Nor will I throw in the 750 pages of textbook I’ve been reading/editing at work.   And I’ll be glad to put the textbook project to bed and get cracking on Mr. Snodgrass Goes To Washington.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud.  A brisk, fascinating read, brilliantly conceived and executed.  The discussion branches off into all forms of art in a most interesting way, while focusing to a large degree on how our brains fill in the empty spaces of sequential art and make it into a story.

Social Intelligence (audio) by Daniel Goleman.  The first half of this holds together better than the second.  Seems to get a muddier focus in latter chapters that, while still on the subject of social psychology and its relevances, read like they were installed as filler, or perhaps material scavenged from scholarly articles that never quite made the journals.  The reader gave this whole book a sort of lackluster feel–he was rarely very excited or into the material it seemed, even when I was most interested.  But the content itself rang many bells for me, both in terms of applications to writing and storytelling and in general decent human-being.  Discovered I share a common abhorrence with a philospher I hadn’t been exposed to, Martin Buber, and his conception of “I-it” relationships, the depersonalization, or “thingification of others” and extrapolations into “Us-Them” biases proved to be my favorite parts.  (Th0ugh the bit about how we “catch someone else’s mood” was pretty cool as well.)  Not the most exciting of science writing, but a fair enough follow-up to Emotional Intellegence and worth a gander if you are at all interested in the field.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson.  Absolutely luscious with the characterization and overflowing with creepiness.  The things this woman does with negative space and the sentence!  Now I see what all the fuss has been about.

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Y: The Last Man, Vol.4-10.  Like a handful of  must-see seasons of the best possible TV.  Sad to see it end.  Mature themes and mature thoughts in abundance.  At its heart, it had so much going on it could be the source of somebody’s Master’s thesis.  (Probably is already.)  But the parts that got to me the most were the humor, the strength of the characters’ affection for eachother, the surprising plot twists, and one of the dominant themes: the ways gender and race and sexual orientation and  religion and politics and fear all keep us fighting one another, and how it’s all such a senseless, fricking shame because in the end what matters most is love.

Elfquest, Vol. 1. Nostalgic fun re-read.  It’s aged fairly well, all things considered, though the highly expository storytelling style felt to me like the comics version of 19th century literary motifs.

Strange Adventures of H.P. Lovecraft #2. Everything a weird tale about H.P. Lovecraft should be:  disorienting, weird and madness-inducing.  I’m lovin’ it.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Generation Loss by Elizabeth Hand.  A damn fine read.  Features a disturbing (and disturbed) protagonist with “as many words for hangover as the Inuit have for snow”.  There is simply so much going on in this sharply focused (and yet subtly developed) novel, it feels like I’ll still be digesting little bits and pieces of it for weeks to come.  Lyrical and deft in its artfulness, this book simply rocked my world.

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I haven’t read as much nonfiction over the past couple years as I used to.  Another area I’m interested in intentionally  reading more of.  So I figured I’d see what’s new in brain science/psychology, a field in which I’ve always had more than a passing interest

How We Decide by Jonah Lehrer is like a toybox full of many interesting things.  Seems like every time I turned the page, new exciting concepts jumped out to amaze me from the emerging neuroscience/psychology intersection.  Highly recommended, and on so many different levels.  It validates scientifically many things I have always thought to be true about the way our whole Western reason/emotion dichotomy works, while at the same time shattering that whole paradigm.  Reading this while listening to Daniel Goleman’s Social Intelligence on audiobook (still in progress) provided something of a lagniappe, as many of the concepts are reinforced between the books, though coming from very different angles of attack.  Not only that, but Lehrer’s no dry science writer.  The lede stories are interesting and his style makes the best use of creative nonfiction techniques where appropriate.

I’ve always been interested in epistemology (the philosophy of how we “know” and “think” things, how can we be certain that what we know is true?).  This book fed my brain and gave me much to think about regarding my own decision making processes.  One of the most fascinating things for me was the analysis of certainty-bias, with absolutely fascinating studies that shed light upon the nature and tenacity of  political partisanship/religious affiliation, as well as the rigorous hoops our brain jumps through to protect what we already believe from any contrary evidence.

Too much here to really even summarize, but I loved every page of this nonfiction book.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

At the end of last year, I noted that I had only read 3 novels (of 19) by women authors, and so set out to broaden my horizons a bit more in 2009.  (Pun only realized after the fact, heh).  Loosely, the goal is to double the number in 2009, but not to read any book just because the author was a woman.  There needed to be some other aspect in play as well that made me want to read it.

So I listened to THE HOST while working out earlier this year; Shelley and I were supposed to read this together but she got stuck in her own TBR pile and so I had to go it alone.    I picked up Octavia Butler’s KINDRED, which is still on my TBR shelf, a lonely woman in a sea of F. Paul Wilson, Arturo Perez-Reverte, Howard Waldrop, Michael Burstein, Tim Powers and Jay Lake, plus a bunch of zines and a bit of nonfic.  Then promptly set about reading whatever struck my fancy next through the year. Figuring the right mood would strike and sooner or later, I would know it was time to launch into KINDRED.  Meanwhile, I kept my eyes open whenever I went bookgazing to note any titles by women authors that caught my eye.

When the Small Beer sale happened, I saw Elizabeth Hand’s GENERATION LOSS on the list, and remembered being interested enough to read a review or two last year, but never had actually seen it in front of me when I was looking to buy a book.  See, what I think is more a factor when I go to buy a book or decide what to read next, more than the gender of the author, or whether they are a tranny Venezuelan midget of unusual shoesize or whatever, is the attractiveness of the story–or rather of the story as it is being sold to me.  (Plus all the memes and meta-stories that may surround the book and its concept.)

Which got me to wondering: How much of the overwhelmingly male gender bias of my own reading selections is based  on how differently a man’s book is often marketed, and how much ( or little?) is based on differences in the kinds of stories women tell.  Maybe some of my more feminist-aware friends could illuminate me on this, or how to forensically investigate?

Short story long, I picked GL out of the Small Beer sale lineup and it arrove over the weekend.  A gorgeous volume. When it got here, I thought I was going to set it on the TBR shelf, but it called to me immediately with the glamer of a new and shiny thing.  Given the timing ( I had just finished reading a nonfic book not yet reported here), I launched right in to it.  Chapter 1 kicked some serious ass; this is writing of personal intensity and a confidence of skill that borders on brashness.  I’m stoked to read more, but running a bit late this morning for work because I was up too late reading.

Anywho, just wanted to capture this while I ate my breakfast.  Off I go.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Just after Sunset by Stephen King. (audio) Listened to this on audiobook recently. Brilliantly produced and cast.  I think “N.” was my favorite story of the book.  Naturally, it was the  modernized take on traditional horror that drew me in:  Lovecraftian/Machenian themes and plot delivered obliquely through a series of letters, news articles, and stories nestled within conversations nestled within stories.  The gist of the horror:  Spontaneous OCD as a response to (and defense against) otherworldly terrors attempting to break through into our plane of existence.  But it’s far better than that weak synopsis, Trust me.

Also, this collection highlighted for me a lesson I’m occasionally  delighted to relearn.  A hallmark of satisfying fiction, a trait ceded wrongly and often to the exclusive care of  the “literary/mainstream” style, is that it makes the characters’ inner landscape and the events that transpire there seem as real as the outer one.  It emphasizes what is happening inside the POV’s head, and in such a way as to endow the reader with a sense of verisimilitude of the subjective alongside that of the fictionalized “objective” world of the story.   Things happen inside the character, not just out there in the world.

Makes sense to me, at least.  Especially as regards to Horror and Weird fiction.  Because Inside is where the  horror and weird are really happening, anyway!

I wonder if I’d have arrived at this renewed realization from reading the book alone, or if to some degree the challenge of writing so much omniscient viewpoint for UHM, with a focus on tone and theme, has brought this into sharper relief.

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Working in Huntsville, AL for a few days.  Had an awesome Cajun dinner with a writing friend (Crawfish etoufee, fried okra, green bean casserole, and lots of Shiner Hef to wash it down.)

On the plane down here—-I hate Delta.  Their chairs are not made for people with shoulders and every time I fly them I end up with pinched muscles in my back from trying to collapse my shoulder blades into Delta’s We Hate People(TM) brand chairs—-Ahem.  Let’s try that again without the rant. Heh.

On the plane down here I finished reading The Devil’s Marionette by Maurice Broaddus.  A Shroud publication with an attractive layout and showcasing an absolutely gorgeous piece of cover art from Steven C. Gilberts (who also did the cover for Frontier Cthulhu and upcoming(?) Tales Out of Miskatonic University) .  The story itself started slowly for me; it took until the second chapter before I felt I had become 100% engaged.  I think this is because in Ch 1, we are meeting so many people, and so much is happening in the story’s infrastructure:  thematic planks are being nailed in place, rifles being hung over the mantles, that sort of thing.  But long about Chapter 2, this thing really took off for me.  The vasty middle of this story rings with so much authenticity to vaudeville, to Hollywood and the comedy “industry”, and probably most important–with emotional authenticity.  There are sections in here where I felt the sense of rage and injustice heaped upon these disparate black actors in an inimical white world as if they were my own.  While the end veers a bit into familiar horror territory, it dovetails nicely with what has gone before it.  Overall, this was a surprisingly engaging, heartfelt story that truly transported me as a reader–not just to another place and time, but into another view of the world.

Also on the plane, I managed to hammer out a little bit more on unholy mashup novel, to the tune of some peculiarly affecting music.  Not long ago, I mentioned renting the original B/W Dracula and it having as a bonus feature the Philip Glass/Kronos Quartet original movie score.  Loved it, wanted to find it.  Forgot about it.  So imagine my surprise when I found a copy of the CD in my library’s collection!  This is a wonderful, wonderful piece of music for writing to, or just thinking to.  Evocative strings and drama in every phrase–without ever tipping over into melodrama.  Highly recommended.  (Are you paying attention, realthog ?  Here’s a link just for you, with clips)

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

MAX by “James Patterson”.  Dear Whoever Ghosted This One: They say sequels eventually must devolve into self-parody.  Sadly, I must say that this series has sunk even lower than that; it’s become an unintentional parody of boy’s adventure cartoons like GI JOE and Captain Planet.  MAX lacks even a dropperful of the energy, coherence and craft shown in the first 3 books.  It is only slightly better than book 4.  Think I’m done with these and eldest daughter is on her own with them.

P.S. Giving the villain’s sub-oceanic dome-lair an “electric net” for protection was made of first class sciencefail.  Also, one does not research the Navy and submarines by watching MASH reruns.  And one more thing–Naming the helpful sea-beasty in a kid’s book Gor?   Seriously? Seriously???

Skinny Bastard by PETA.  Liked the drill-instructor tone of the jacket copy and wanted to pick up something to get back on track and motivated.  Little did I know that the cruel  way chickens are treated in industrial farms somehow affects my health.  All joking aside, this book is a well planned out bait-and-switch.  Let’s sell a PETA pamphlet disguised as a diet book.  Worked for the crazy old lady who always gave out Watchtower “comic books” at Hallowe’en, didn’t it?

Yes, it has at least as much validity as it does profanity; more than 500 footnote citations and expletives can be found within these pages.  But in the end, it boils down to  simply this: BE VEGAN, YOU SMELLY FAT VAGINA-MAN.  So the essence of veganism, according to the book, is the avoidance of any animal exploitation in the human diet.  I suppose farm animal labor is excluded, so long as you treat the animal with dignity; they weren’t really clear on that.  So maybe it’s more accurate to say no animal parts or excretions. (They also shun honey.)   Is eating primarily fresh, whole, raw, plant-based food healthier for you?  I believe so, and if you can tune out  the  authoress’ PETA spokesmodels’ innate self-loathing long enough to finish the first few chapters of the book, a rational person will probably agree.  Is our meat industry cruel and bad for the planet?  Undoubtedly; though I would argue with PETA that the word human has no place in the word humane, and that their methods of outreach/education are often nearly as unpleasant and counterproductive as these people’s .   Now, I have cut WAY back on meat/egg/dairy and tried to focus on the veggies, fruit and nuts more, plus drinking more water and much less caffeine.  So the book accomplished something, despite itself.  I admit to feeling better, though the scale isn’t budging.  And I admit I’m still looking forward to this weekend’s festival of grilled meat.

Welcome to Hell: A Working Guide for the Beginning Writer by Tom Picirilli.  More powerful Fairwood Press goodness. Meeting Tom and Michele Scalise at MoCon was a blast.  Wish we’d had more time to talk.   Reading this breezy, heartfelt volume almost makes up for it, though.  There’s tons of good information packed in here tighter than my grandma’s shoe closet.  A recurring motif at the “business of writing” panel was how every time Tom would say something, one of the other panelists would remark how they wish he had told them that before they went and made whatever the new writer career mistake was that he had just warned about.  On reading the book, I feel smarter about the craft, business and lifestyle of writing–of being a writer.  While reading it, I too found myself griping at Tom as if he could hear me, “Wish you had told me that BEFORE I made the mistake, dammit!”  But at least he’s warned me away from a half dozen others–or more.  Another jewel from Fairwood Press, now signed (!) and at home on my keeper shelf.

What I’m Reading Now:

Elfquest, vol 1. for the nostalgia of it all

Untitled Novel by one of my favorite writers

Just After Sunset (Audio) by Stephen King

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

Dude.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon and evening travelling via Delay Delta Airlines from Dayton to Miami.  I brought Ken Rand’s THE EDITOR IS IN with me on the plane and I finished it in one long gulp.  This is a great book, filled with funny and wise and warm.  (What would Ken have said about that sentence, I wonder? LOL)

But I have to take you to task for underpromoting it.  It’s much more than a collection of email newsletters.  It’s like the distilled brainpower of 100 good con panels–without the dross.  It’s an archive of the state of writerdom as we collectively teetered over the cusp and into the Internet Age.  It holds the answers to every weird format and editing question I ever had as a beginner, collected in one place and genially delivered by a narrative voice it is impossible not to like and trust.  Even now with more experience under my belt, Ken’s columns were incredibly valuable and worthwhile.

I know Ken died recently, and having read this book (plus his others that you publish: THE TEN PERCENT SOLUTION and FROM IDEA TO STORY IN 90 SECONDS) now I know just how much our little scribbler community has lost.   I’m putting  THE EDITOR IS IN on my “keeper” shelf in a place I can pick it up and browse often.  And you, my friend, need to put a warning label on the next printing:  HIGHLY CONCENTRATED WIT AND WISDOM MAY CAUSE PROFESSIONALISM AND SUCCESS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Best,

Lon

ETA: Correction–Fairwood/Patrick are not the actual publishers of this particular Ken Rand book, but rather have a cooperative agreement with Media Man! Productions. My main point stands:  This book is too good to go unread!

Originally published at LonPrater.com. You can comment here or there.

More James Patterson YA reading…

The Final Warning (Maximum Ride 4) by James Patterson.  If the other books in this series were A to B- efforts, this one felt like a solid C, especially so soon after the much better Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports.  The action and plot came off as Saturday Morning cartoonish and a bit half-baked to me.  Treads wish-fulfillment territory capably, with all its pluses and minuses; the bird kids keep getting cool new powers, to the point that I never really saw any of it as a struggle. Both the interpersonal and external plot obstacles felt like they were beaten before they even had a chance to “obstacle” anything properly. Also, the global warming preachiness left me cold.  Max’s main objection to the whole concept was that Fang might be in “like” with the Antarctic genius girl working to stop it.  If she had managed at least one knowledge-based quibble before signing on as a sign-waving doomsday prophet in the end, I’d have bought into her conversion better.  This was my least favorite volume in this series, unfortunately.  I’m hopeful that book 5 will get back to the level of entertainment and story delivered in the first 3 books.

Daniel X: Alien Hunter (Graphic Novel) by James Patterson.  The art is vibrant and melancholy in just the right measures.  Story breezes along in a Tokyo setting that manages to be both visually interesting and shallowly idiosyncratic.  You think a James Patterson book reads fast?  The graphic novel took under 45 minutes.  Not sure what was left out from the book, but the story here felt complete, for what it was.  Daniel is another “can’t lose” character who periodically goes up against odds so tough even he can’t see a way to beat them, then surprises himself by having what it takes to win the day after all.  Even so, this didn’t get under my skin like MR#4 did, because Daniel is very much a tragic character.  Sure he wins, but his profound loneliness (not to mention the loss of his only non-imaginary friend at the end of the story) really left me aching for the poor kid.