My crazy blog project

Inspired by a young barista’s mad passion for music, I have commenced blogging about short SF over at the Locus blog. It’s all under the moniker The All-Time Top 40(-ish) – A Quixotic Endeavor. Each week I’m reading and reviewing one of the stories from Locus’s 1999 All-Time Top 40 Short Story List, just kinda as something to do.  There have been suggestions this will lead to anthologies and such, but probably not. Mostly it’s a way of connecting with some older fiction and slowing down how I read.  On reflection I might have picked the superior looking Best Novelette list, but the dye is cast and there’s no use complaining now.

For those who are interested, if this works (and we’ll know by 5 January 2010 if it did) I intend to do something on the best short fiction of the 2000s.  That’s away aways though.  The intention is that a new review will appear every Tuesday, unless I get bored, in which case they’ll either come a lot faster or not at all. It’s an adventure. Come check it out!

The Manual of Detection

Every now and then the system doesn’t forewarn you that an interesting book is coming. Instead, it arrives, unexpected, and you fall in love with it and with the surprise of it.  And suddenly you’re reminded, as a jaded old reviewer type, that all of this reading caper is still worth it.  A week or two ago Jedediah Berry contacted me to say he was getting a copy of his first novel, The Manual of Detection, sent out to me. It sounded pretty good, and I was pleased he’d done it because I’d read a story or two of his, and because I’d heard it was a pretty book. But I wasn’t enjoying reading much at the time, so didn’t think on it too hard.
Well, I came home Tuesday, tired and out sorts with the world, to find a package sitting on my desk here in the disaster zone we call my office.  Hmpph, I thought.  Another galley of some utterly avoidable book, most likely. But it wasn’t.  It was this really lovely dark green book with a big golden eye embossed on the cover. No dustjacket, but beautifully designed.  I was intrigued, but feeling jaded with reading (my adjustment to multifocal spectacle lenses is imperfect right now and reading has been hard, so I’m disenclined).  But there was rain, a city, an enormous Detective Agency that might have fallen out of Brasil, a mummy, a man on a bicycle, a mysterious woman.  I was intrigued. I was trapped. Suddenly I was sucked into the book, pulled forward by the story, cushioned by his writing.  I’m only half way through The Manual of Detection right now. It might fall apart. It might not. I don’t think it will. And now I wanted to know about “The Three Deaths of Colonel Baker” and “The Man Who Stole November Twelfth”.  I want Berry to promise to write stories for me from the casebooks of Charles Unwin and Travis T. Sivart, for I am lost and I am intrigued and I love his book quite a lot.

How much? Enough to tell you to make sure you get a copy. Enough to think I need to buy another, because this one has  a chip in the boards. And if it has a chip in the boards, I can buy a nice new to keep and use this one to lend out to others, so I can share this wonderful story. The Manual of Detection is really quite special.

The weekend…

My weekend was a varied one, to say the least. It started on Friday, when I left the office feeling distinctly unwell. I’ve had odd bouts of ‘unwellness’ since I cracked my rib last August.  Nothing terrible or fatal, but not good. The rib was complicated by a minor shoulder injury. I also moved from ‘normal’ glasses to these damned multifocal things. Then, on Friday morning, I had a renewed bout of dizziness and nausea. The official diagnosis was an ear infection. I’m on antibiotics, but I suspect it’s more to do with the multifocals. The doctor suggested it might be time for short-sightedness surgery, and I’m seriously considering it.  More on this, well not too much more, as it happens.

I should probably follow that with a clarification: I’m not writing this for sympathy (though I appreciate it), but to explain something.  These new glasses (and perhaps the ear infection) have kicked the stuffing out of my ability to read. Write now it’s a real struggle to focus on books and magazines. My dear compadres at Last Short Story on Earth will be snickering right now, but I assure you all it’s not simple ennui. It’s just hard for me to focus on a page (the Sony Reader is better).  For those of you who follow the dramas here at the Other Side of the World, that causes some problems. I have a book of Gene Wolfe stories to read for review (it feels like homework, which is awful) and can’t seem to focus on that.  I have a pile of interesting new books, and I have my year’s best reading. It’s all flagging a bit, right now, though I am pushing through. The only things I’m reading quickly are new story submissions, which get my top priority.

Anyhow, the weekend. I spent Friday sleeping and feeling crappy. I then read and agreed to buy a terrific submission for Conquering Swords (time to move on to line edits and story notes for that one) before sitting down to watch Rome. I’m sucked in and loving it.  Generation Kill is lined up after that, so I’m pretty happy about my DVD viewing. Saturday was a quiet family day. I got up early, had breakfast with the family, then Marianne took the girls swimming while I chatted with Charles and Gary.  After that, off for our traditional dim sum lunch. Yay.  Bought a copy of Bruce’s The Caryatids at the best bookstore in Australia, then home for a quiet family afternoon. We played charades, which made a nice change from our traditional family movie night. Good stuff. Sunday was, in some ways, even better. I stumbled out of bed and Sophie (who isn’t at all precocious at seven) suggested we go out for breakfast. This is something we’ve almost never done, so I was surprised, but we decided to go with the whim.  We had a great breakfast at Coode St Continental (an old fave near our old apt) before spending a few hours at the Hyde Park Festival.  A very successful day, climaxing with the girls getting to stay up and watch So You Think You Can Dance.

Monday was good to too. A friend of Jessica’s came over for a play date, while I ducked out for coffee. Had a peaceful time struggling to read “The Fifth Head of Cerberus”. Great story, but teeny print in the galley made for hard work (maybe this radio reviewing thing isn’t for me?). After that, a chat with Robin then home.  All in all, a good weekend with only one major downside.  The Macbook that belongs to work, and which has been my constant companion around home and the world when on tour, died on Saturday night.  The hard drive is dead and I need to look into data recovery (not much, just some snaps of the kids on Photo Booth – all else is safe). I also need to look into replacements. I doubt work will replace or repair the machine, so I need to see what I can do. Right now, I’m thinking netbooks like the new HP, but we’ll see.

And now, to the week!

Books I’m looking forward to…Part 3. March 2009

I’m a little bit late as always, but here we go again with ‘Books I’m Looking Forward To’, this time covering books that are scheduled to be published in March 2009.  I generally don’t prepare much when I’m writing for the blog, which probably shows, but I did go back and re-read the first two instalments of this series before getting started and it was pretty rough. Lots of repetition, lots of ‘terrific’, but not a lot to let you know what a book might be like.  In my defence, that’s not the easiest thing to do given that I’ve often haven’t actually read the books in question. Still, I’ll try to do a little better this time around.

A while ago I started, and subsequently abandoned, a series of posts for this blog about ‘Unbooks’: books that I’d like to have but which didn’t exist. One of those books was ‘The Best of Gene Wolfe’.  Wolfe has been writing since the early 1960s and has published a large and varied body of work. It seemed to me that someone should assemble a smart, tightly edited book that would give a newcomer to his work a real taste of what his writing is like. It always seems to me that readers who’ve heard of Wolfe but not read him seem baffled, intimidated or wary.  I was delighted, therefore, to hear that Tor planned to publish just such a volume, and that it would appear in March of this year.

An Advance Review Copy fell through my mailbox a while ago and, while it’s not the book I envisaged, it is pretty close to what we need.  The thirty-one stories in The Best of Gene Wolfe: A Definitive Retrospective of His Short Fiction are selected by Wolfe and cover the period from 1970 to 1999 (more than half of the stories here were published during the 1970s).  The stories are smart and sly, wistful and wonderful, but most of all they are exactly what you’re don’t expect from Wolfe (if you’ve not read him): they’re entertaining. It’s my suspicion Wolfe is the best and smartest writer ever to write pulp science fiction and fantasy.  Many of the tropes of pulp fiction are here, and those that aren’t probably reside elsewhere in his bibliography.  Is it worth the price of admission?  Easily. Any book that includes “Seven American Nights”, “The Cabin on the Coast”, “The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories”, and “The Detective of Dreams” is an utterly essential book, and not because you ought to have it for your collection but because it’s smart and funny and touching and terrific to read.  I could quibble with some story selections – why, for example, no “Empire of Foliage and Flower” when I’m sure I read somewhere that Wolfe thinks it’s his best short story? – but it’s pointless. You need this collection of 20th Century Wolfe, and we can only hope we’ll see the 21st Century Wolfe collected before too long as well.  And yes, this one is essential.

I came late to the Peter Beagle show. I missed The Last Unicorn, and have never really been captivated by the book.  On the other hand, I loved The Folk of the Air and have eagerly picked up one book after the other as they slowly were published during the ’80s and ’90s.  Back around 2002 Beagle, who had never been a prolific short story writer (I think most if not all of it resided in a single collection at the time), suddenly began to publish a lot of short stories.  Mostly fantasy, but richer and more complex than his earlier short work.  He won a Hugo and a Nebula, published a new ‘Last Unicorn’ story and fast established himself as one of the best writers of short fiction in the field (he was already one of our best novelists).  Now, before I continue, fair warning.  I have done business with Peter and have been honored to publish two of his short stories, so I’m not without bias. Still, this is about books I’m looking forward to, so some bias is acceptable.

The good folk at Tachyon are publishing Peter’s new short story collection, We Never Talk About My Brother, next month and it includes “The Last and Only” from my anthology Eclipse One.  I’ve not seen a full table of contents for the book yet, but the stories I have read are extraordinary.  There’s the wistful tale of a man who becomes French from the inside out, a fantasy epic in 4000 wds, a funny story about an annoying kid brother who is also a wizard, and a LOT more.  What more could you want from a collection of stories?  And yes, all of Peter’s story collections are worth it.

Now, lest you are thinking that I only read short fiction these days, a novel or two.  I have an irrational love for Bruce Sterling’s work.  I started reading him back in the mid-1980s, I guess, when Gardner Dozois started featuring his Shaper and Mechanist stories in his Year’s Best annuals.  The story that really stuck with me back then, though, was “Green Days in Brunei”.  There was something about the vital creative energy it portrayed happening in a decaying tropical environment that really resonated.  Then there was Islands in the Net, my second favorite of his novels, which expanded on the feel of that story.  He then produced his finest novel, Holy Fire, as well as a bunch of terrific short stories.  I know how terrific they are because I edited a career retrospective a year or so ago, Ascendancies, and was amazed at just jhow strong they are and how well they stand up a quarter century later.  Any how, his new novel The Caryatids will be out in a few weeks, and at a glance it seems very much of a piece with Islands in the Net, sharing the same vibe.  I have a copy of this on my Sony Reader, but I’ve actually been holding out to get a physical copy of the book (now winging its way towards me) so I can dive into it. Cory just raved about it on boingboing and it makes me even more excited about getting this one.

The other novel I can’t wait to get hold of in March is Walter Jon Williams’s This is Not a Game. If you’re a science fiction reader, you don’t need me to tell you why.  Metropolitan, City on Fire, and Aristoi: his body of work speaks for itself.  Any new Walter novel is cause for celebration, and celebrating is what I plan to do. I loved last year’s Implied Spaces, which was a pure SFnal romp, and this story of gaming, game theory and such sounds intriguing.   I can’t wait to pick up a copy.

Oh, and one other quick one.  My editor and friend Sharyn November publishes the third ‘Firebirds’ anthology, Firebirds Soaring.  I got a sneek peek at it the other month and it has great stories by Margo Lanagan, Ellen Klages, and Marly Youmans. You have the others, and you need this one to complete the set.  Top notch!

One last time with the Hugos

If you’re eligible to nominate, the nominations for the Hugo Awards closes on Friday.  You can nominate here.  I did my nominations a couple weeks ago, and if you can, you should do yours too.  Don’t worry about having seen or read everything, just nominate something (anything) that you think is worthy.  It’s a cool thing to do, and speaking from personal experience, it’s a pretty special thing.