Hello authors.
Since everyone can use a review in this world ... there's a site called Readers' Favorite Book Reviews and Award Contest that offers free and paid reviews (basically the difference is whether you want your review this week, or you're not fussed), book competitions, and ... you can become a reviewer (FREE books to read, some of them by first-time all-new authors).
OK, well, that last bit's obviously the part I'm most excited about, because I get cranky swiftly followed by shaky and homicidal if I don't have books to read in sufficient quantities. Ergo, the lure of books, especially ones that people give me, pretty much had me drooling and clawing at the door to sign up.
Despite the claw marks and slobber on their door ... I'm now a Readers' Favorite reviewer. Hope to see y'all, with books for review, lining up (because I need more BOOKS!!!).
Saturday 25 April 2015
Wednesday 15 April 2015
Were Clans of the Northwest
As well as sci-fi, I also drop in occasionally on urban fiction and outright fantasy.
One of my one-off novels, which I have a feeling is going to turn into a series, is currently a completed Draft 0. Right now, it's running under the stunningly original working title of 'Cat Were', and isn't admitting much more than that.
However, I put up some of that Draft 0 on one of my other blogs, in segments, and it met with a very positive amount of reading. If you want to read the first few installments, the link will take you there. Fairly self-evidently (I hope) the earliest post is the start of the book.
It's due up for editing once I finish work on the second book in the Cortii series, which is currently at the 87% loading stage and sucking down most of my run time, invention and energy.
Meet Katrin Summers, Canadian, outdoors enthusiast, introvert (sounds better than anti-social), native of Vancouver's North Shore, and a were cat. Don't make the "Cat? Where?" joke. It's been done. To death, in some cases.
Katrin is a peacekeeper for the were cats of the Northwest. In her own words, she goes out looking for trouble to put down. The elders, bastions of clan tradition, aren't particularly thrilled that Katrin will work with wolves, witches and even living legends to solve a case ...
*****
Cat Were
So someone's going to
ask: if I like my privacy that much, why am I writing a book? Why now? Good
questions. Probably because most of the fantasy books out there are just so
wrong, it makes my hair stand on end, and depending on which form I'm in, that
can be pretty spectacular.
One of my one-off novels, which I have a feeling is going to turn into a series, is currently a completed Draft 0. Right now, it's running under the stunningly original working title of 'Cat Were', and isn't admitting much more than that.
However, I put up some of that Draft 0 on one of my other blogs, in segments, and it met with a very positive amount of reading. If you want to read the first few installments, the link will take you there. Fairly self-evidently (I hope) the earliest post is the start of the book.
It's due up for editing once I finish work on the second book in the Cortii series, which is currently at the 87% loading stage and sucking down most of my run time, invention and energy.
Meet Katrin Summers, Canadian, outdoors enthusiast, introvert (sounds better than anti-social), native of Vancouver's North Shore, and a were cat. Don't make the "Cat? Where?" joke. It's been done. To death, in some cases.
Katrin is a peacekeeper for the were cats of the Northwest. In her own words, she goes out looking for trouble to put down. The elders, bastions of clan tradition, aren't particularly thrilled that Katrin will work with wolves, witches and even living legends to solve a case ...
*****
Cat Were
So, there's something a
little odd about me. Fine, there's several things a little odd about me. This
one's odder than most of the things you find out about people after one too
many drinks, though. A lot of people make jokes about their wild side. Mostly,
I don't. When your wild side weighs in at little over the average cougar, and
comes equipped with claws that can take someone's throat out, bragging seems a
bit superfluous. Not to mention not a great idea. I mean, someone who staggers
into a police station right now and starts talking about watching a woman turn
into a mountain lion, they'll probably let him cool off overnight in the drunk
tank. Make a fact public domain, and suddenly everyone starts asking nosy
questions.
It's a trend right now
to be fascinated by the supernatural - vampires, mostly, but weres, magic,
voodun, anything that would definitely have got you excommunicated to kebab
flambé a century or so ago. It's a damn nuisance. Most of the fans are harmless
in fact if not design, but the intelligence agencies? They're a real pain.
Especially because I feel so guilty about propping up the stereotype of
snoopy.... well, snoops, let's face it, employed by one or other of the
so-called free world's democratic governments, hanging out in my brambly
backyard trying to catch me out. I hate feeling guilty. I'd say it was the
were-cat thing, but if truth must be told, it's probably just me.
Tuesday 14 April 2015
Bordering on English
I'm seeing a lot of noise online recently about English, the 'universal language'. And it makes me laugh.
I invite these optimists to try travelling from York to London in the UK and ordering a Maccy D's. Come to that, try asking if you can wear thongs into a restaurant in Newcastle and in Sydney. I guarantee two very different responses, but I'd only bother standing by with a camera for one of them.
This is because English has several oddities out of the gate. It's spoken widely, and suffers from all the inconsistencies normal to wide geographical spread. Put a Scouser and a Texan together at an open bar without an internet translator and watch the fun.
English is built from a smattering of Celtic overlaid forcibly by Latin, in turn overlaid by Saxon and then Norman French, meaning it takes part of its vocabulary from the largely Germanic North, and a lot of it from the Romance languages to the South.
Have a look at some untweaked Chaucer (c. 1343 – 1400), the first person to actually write in English, rather than French or Latin. At that point in time, actually writing literature in English would be roughly comparable to someone now writing a work of philosophy in text-message shorthand ... doable, but something of a freak of nature.
(From the Knight's Tale)
Certainly you can unfocus your brain a little, and stare at it, and you can make it out without too much trouble. If you have some grounding in Classic Mythology, you can cheat and fill in any blanks (cheat. There's another good word, etymologically. "To escheat," a shortening of Old French 'escheat'.) If you feel particularly technical, you can even take a red and a green pen and highlight the words that are clearly Saxon in origin, and which are clearly Latin / French.
Let's take one of the words there (just one, in the interest of having a post that doesn't equal a full-length novel). Let's look at contree. Obviously, modern English, 'country'. Or you could say 'nation'. Starting to feel a twinge of sympathy for those who have to actually learn this language the hard way? I do. You've already got two completely different words meaning pretty much exactly the same thing.
Among other oddities from its mixed heritage, that means that English has nearly twice the vocabulary of most languages, most estimates pinning it at somewhere near 1 million. Given that the majority of English speakers actually commonly use about 5,000 words of that, and even a highly-educated university graduate only about 20,000 ... that's still a lot of variation for a second-language speaker to try to master.
For example: fish is a plural noun. Except when it's not. Anyone want to take a stab at why and when you can actually say fishes? What's the difference between a belfry and a belltower? Come to that, which English-speaking populations can you insult by calling them a bellend, and which will just look at you blankly?
As practical choices go, picking English as the 'universal language' scores a resounding E for effort. It's hard to pronounce, regional dialects vary wildly, and the vocabulary is, if possible, more enormous even than the number of grammatical irregularities.
Of course, as far as writers go, that makes English a whole field of fun with occasional streaks of psycho. You can do nearly anything in English. (Well, you all knew I was going to end up talking about writing.) You can turn up ten or so synonyms for pretty much any word you care to use (or not use. That's what synonyms are for.) And if you care to dig yourself into regional slang for some character colour ... well, the Urban Dictionary is a writer's boon there. If you weren't planning on slang to start with, you'll almost certainly end up wanting some after ten minutes in there. Not to mention if you put any two grammar nerds into a bar with a pitcher of beer, you can get five different opinions on something as basic as when and where to put a comma (Oxford commas, anyone?).
Basically, English as a universal language is a moderately shitty choice. Why do I blaspheme? Well, because language, at its most basic, and basic is really what you want as a universal interface, is a means to communicate easily and clearly. Yup, really. I can lose most native speakers in three sentences if I make the effort. English has weird pronunciation, which varies wildly depending on region. It has a massively complicated grammar structure. And don't forget that huge, doubled vocabulary. As far as simple, clear, universal communication goes ... well, some of the Eastern writing systems might, possibly, throw more of a wrench in the works, but only by a whisker.
I invite these optimists to try travelling from York to London in the UK and ordering a Maccy D's. Come to that, try asking if you can wear thongs into a restaurant in Newcastle and in Sydney. I guarantee two very different responses, but I'd only bother standing by with a camera for one of them.
This is because English has several oddities out of the gate. It's spoken widely, and suffers from all the inconsistencies normal to wide geographical spread. Put a Scouser and a Texan together at an open bar without an internet translator and watch the fun.
English is built from a smattering of Celtic overlaid forcibly by Latin, in turn overlaid by Saxon and then Norman French, meaning it takes part of its vocabulary from the largely Germanic North, and a lot of it from the Romance languages to the South.
Have a look at some untweaked Chaucer (c. 1343 – 1400), the first person to actually write in English, rather than French or Latin. At that point in time, actually writing literature in English would be roughly comparable to someone now writing a work of philosophy in text-message shorthand ... doable, but something of a freak of nature.
(From the Knight's Tale)
Whilom, as olde stories tellen us,
Ther was a duc that highte Theseus;
Of Atthenes he was lord and governour,
And in his tyme swich a conquerour,
That gretter was ther noon under the sonne.
Ful many a riche contree hadde he wonne,
What with his wysdom and his chivalrie;
He conquered al the regne of Femenye,
That whilom was ycleped Scithia,
And weddede the queene Ypolita,
And broghte hir hoom with hym in his contree,
With muchel glorie and greet solempnytee,
And eek hir yonge suster Emelye.
Certainly you can unfocus your brain a little, and stare at it, and you can make it out without too much trouble. If you have some grounding in Classic Mythology, you can cheat and fill in any blanks (cheat. There's another good word, etymologically. "To escheat," a shortening of Old French 'escheat'.) If you feel particularly technical, you can even take a red and a green pen and highlight the words that are clearly Saxon in origin, and which are clearly Latin / French.
Let's take one of the words there (just one, in the interest of having a post that doesn't equal a full-length novel). Let's look at contree. Obviously, modern English, 'country'. Or you could say 'nation'. Starting to feel a twinge of sympathy for those who have to actually learn this language the hard way? I do. You've already got two completely different words meaning pretty much exactly the same thing.
Among other oddities from its mixed heritage, that means that English has nearly twice the vocabulary of most languages, most estimates pinning it at somewhere near 1 million. Given that the majority of English speakers actually commonly use about 5,000 words of that, and even a highly-educated university graduate only about 20,000 ... that's still a lot of variation for a second-language speaker to try to master.
For example: fish is a plural noun. Except when it's not. Anyone want to take a stab at why and when you can actually say fishes? What's the difference between a belfry and a belltower? Come to that, which English-speaking populations can you insult by calling them a bellend, and which will just look at you blankly?
As practical choices go, picking English as the 'universal language' scores a resounding E for effort. It's hard to pronounce, regional dialects vary wildly, and the vocabulary is, if possible, more enormous even than the number of grammatical irregularities.
Of course, as far as writers go, that makes English a whole field of fun with occasional streaks of psycho. You can do nearly anything in English. (Well, you all knew I was going to end up talking about writing.) You can turn up ten or so synonyms for pretty much any word you care to use (or not use. That's what synonyms are for.) And if you care to dig yourself into regional slang for some character colour ... well, the Urban Dictionary is a writer's boon there. If you weren't planning on slang to start with, you'll almost certainly end up wanting some after ten minutes in there. Not to mention if you put any two grammar nerds into a bar with a pitcher of beer, you can get five different opinions on something as basic as when and where to put a comma (Oxford commas, anyone?).
Basically, English as a universal language is a moderately shitty choice. Why do I blaspheme? Well, because language, at its most basic, and basic is really what you want as a universal interface, is a means to communicate easily and clearly. Yup, really. I can lose most native speakers in three sentences if I make the effort. English has weird pronunciation, which varies wildly depending on region. It has a massively complicated grammar structure. And don't forget that huge, doubled vocabulary. As far as simple, clear, universal communication goes ... well, some of the Eastern writing systems might, possibly, throw more of a wrench in the works, but only by a whisker.
Saturday 11 April 2015
The art of war, or, the non-PC novel
Libraries are being told to ban books. Does this raise any concerns for anyone? Would it concern anyone more if I mentioned that these dangerous books include ... Harry Potter? The Hunger Games? Huckleberry Finn?
I mean, we're not talking about The Communist Manifesto here. We're not talking books that overthrow the worldview of the Western world, like Kepler's Astronomia Nova, or even Martin Luther's translation of the Bible. We're talking fiction books.
At this point I start getting little twinges of disaster scrabbling around my hindbrain. Here's a pop quiz. Can anyone think of a period in the last 100 years when books, including fiction books, and literature with liberal, democratic tendencies and attitudes, and writings, e.g. Jack London's Call of the Wild, were rounded up and destroyed to keep them out of the hands of the impressionable population?
Anyone? I'll tell you. It started on 10th May 1933, when numbers of students and citizens decided that in the name of patriotism, some material was against the principles of their culture and ran the risk of sowing dangerous ideas in the populace.
But ... but ... banning books that shock or anger people from libraries is nothing like that!
Yes. It is. It's exactly like that.
It's an offence against free speech. It's making someone else's choices for them. And it prevents the spread of an idea. Even a stupid, fictional idea. After all, what starts with a ban on Harry Potter can, all too easily, spread to a ban on Darwin's On the Origin of Species. That one definitely contains some dangerous, shocking ideas to some percentage of the population.
So here's the shocking thing about books. They're meant to spread ideas. Think of every book like a little chunk of amber. Each contains a preserved idea, whether from yesterday or 2,000 years ago. Most of them are just beautiful things to amuse yourself with for a few hours. Others, still beautiful, contain the DNA sample that brings back the dinosaurs. It doesn't mean you get to destroy the one you don't like because you don't like it. What if someone else decided that the idea you like, about the guy who walked on water, should be banned and destroyed, because it starts wars?
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