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Surfaced this morning (after shower, stretching, grumbling) and unlocked the back door so Fabulous Publisher Babe™ can come over later. (She has her own house, as you might not recall.)
A general reminder: Chipmunks make lousy ninjas. Don’t believe them when they try to argue the point, either. Got one adult and one youngling that like to run around and pretend to be invisible. Usually on her porch, (I think they live under the barn), but over the weekend, one wandered onto my back porch to see what was up. Sometimes, he’ll climb up the patio steps, stand up on his hind legs, and peek in the slider.
Caught him early this time. Middle of the bricks.
Opened the door and he scampered madly under the steps. So I put a broom down on one side, just to get his attention.
He takes off for the FAR side of the property, and I learned a whole new slew of chipmunk profanities. Not a wasted day, then.
Still waking up.
Finished Harri 3. Like how it ended. Still have 4 in mind, but other projects I need to pursue. Started that one inspired loosely by Blake’s 7 (and I mean WAY loosely, given last week’s conversation) and already 22k into it. Feels like it will come in right around 40+/-, which is fine. I like the shortest novels, because that becomes a challenge to tell an entire story and not have any places where it slows down. Series tentatively called Belle’s Fortune at the moment, so Belle 1.
Film at 11.
Happy Bastille Day, y’all. You know what to do to celebrate it.
Occasionally, I have attempted to read SF fiction lately, mostly to overcome the natural tendency to read critically. Lots of the old SF was plagued by the problem that Hugo and a few others liked to publish stories based on a really cool idea, with the actual craft of the story being a distant ninth in consideration. Things like Setting, Voice, and Characterization were haphazard at best.
I remember a major media tie-in from the 80s (a novelization based on Star Trek, but not any of the movies), where I was about two-thirds of the way through the book when the author casually mentioned that the woman scientist in charge was black. I could not remember that coming up at all, so I started over, looking for the thing I had missed. Wasn’t there.
Granted, useful to just assume things, but at no point had the author included ANY descriptions of characters beyond gendering them.
And Arthur C. Clarke is also NOTORIOUS for this. Grand ideas. No physical details about cast. Little about setting, which is usually “character opinion of sensory data.”
So reading the old stuff is dull, because even a mid writer these days has better craft than those old books. Maybe not better ideas, but more engaging, and that’s what keeps the reader reading.
Shaggy dog story short, I stumbled across Walter Jon Williams’ Dread Empire’s Fall series. First one generally worked for me. Into the second one now, which is kinda amazing, considering how little fiction I read these days. Different ways of looking at things, and he centers the story on two characters who are both outsiders sticking it to the man, which is honestly why I was able to read it. And he puts a lot of emphasis on the people as people, rather than cardboard archetypes delivering polemics for the Author™.
More coffee as soon as I post this. Need it. Then back to the word mines, because we are about to steal a warship out of harbor, having bamboozled the base commander with bullshit stories of secret missions and impending wars.
Bureaucracy can be defeated by defeating the minds behind it. Or playing to the vanity of the decision makers. Y’all keep that in mind when you finally meet Belle.
shade and sweet water,
b
West of the Mountains, WA
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