Kindle Sale
I’m off work ill at the moment, and while I’m feeling a little better today, I’m not well enough for a full post. I’m also away on Thursday night, so don’t expect much until Friday (when I’ll be reviewing the Beach Boys gig I’m going to on Thursday).
However, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to get the Seven Soldiers book out by Saturday, when I’m starting the blog tour, and so to accompany it I’m starting a sale – my book Sci-Ence! Justice Leak!, which covers some of the same themes, will be available for only 99 cents on Kindle until the end of the month, after which it’ll be returning to its $5 price. The price in other formats will remain the same. It can be bought here (UK) and here (US). The price change may not have taken effect yet, but will do soon.
(Apologies to those who bought this full price, but I’m still feeling my way with this self-publishing thing, and trying different things out. I do think the book is worth at least $5 though…)
Hugo Blogging 2: Grandville, Feed, Blackout, Cryoburn
Continuing my reviews of this year’s Hugo entries. Remember, if you want to get a ton of SF ebooks for $50 and vote in the Hugos yourself, you can get the Hugo packet here.
One point here – the four books I’m reviewing here are a sequel, part one of a two-volume story set in a world where that author has apparently set several previous books, part one of a trilogy, and part of a ‘saga’. The Best Novel candidate I’ve not yet read is also part one of a trilogy. Since when did SF writers become physically incapable of writing individual, stand-alone books?
Grandville Mon Amour by Bryan Talbot
Nominated for Best Graphic Story, while this is far from the best comic released during its year of eligibility, it’s still a Bryan Talbot comic, and therefore deserves to win.
The sequel to Grandville, this has the same strengths and weaknesses as the previous book. The art is still gorgeous (though reading it as a PDF on the computer means you can’t see his masterful layout work in full) and it’s still as fun to play spot-the-reference as with the early League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen issues (I especially like the cameo by the misogynist aardvaark). But like the earlier work, the plot is a bit lightweight – and while the first one was roughly based around the conspiracy theories around the 2001 attacks on New York and Washington, this one is *very* roughly based around Jack The Ripper conspiracy theories. This means it invites comparisons with From Hell, which are unfair, as this is a deliberately light, pulpy comic.
It’s no Luther Arkwright or Alice In Sunderland, but even when he’s just having fun Talbot is always worth reading.
Blackout by Connie Willis
This was really, really, really annoying. Five hundred and eleven pages long, this is all set-up with no resolution at all, because the resolution is in another book (I didn’t realise this til I was up to page 507 and the major plot point hadn’t happened yet). It would be an exaggeration to say that nothing at all happened in the book, but certainly the actual *events* in it could be compressed into a short story. Well, half a short story. The Wikipedia page for the book has a nine-line plot summary – and a nine *paragraph* summary of the sequel.
Willis writes well, but fundamentally this is like if someone had taken just the World War II parts of Cryptonomicon (say), removed all the discussion of ideas so you were just left with the painfully accurate research about the war years, and put that out as a book. Except have all the fiddly little details right about the war but totally wrong about the country in which it’s set. Yes, it’s part one of a two-part novel, but it’s still not structured *at all* as a single volume – it just stops, and after 511 pages giving the reader no reward whatsoever seems more than a little unfair.
Over and over again Willis assumes that the UK is really just exactly the same as the USA except for us all drinking tea and loving the Royal Family. It’s a minor point, but the biggest problem I had with the book was that everyone speaks in USian dialect – they say “I’ve got to go get that” rather than “I’ve got to go *and* get that”, and “January thirteenth” instead of “January *the* thirteenth”. If you’re going to go to the trouble, as Willis obviously has, of researching dates of bombings and the names of shops on Oxford Street in the 40s, you could at least bother to listen to an English person speak. Maybe even get one to read the book before you put it out. Judging from these posts, the ePub has actually been revised and the most egregious errors fixed compared to the original paper publication. Christ alone knows how bad this was before that. Utter, utter, unmitigated crap.
The Dervish House by Ian McDonald
The ePub file for this crashes my e-reader, so I’m just mentioning it so people know I’m not ignoring it.
Feed by Mira Grant
While I’ve had more than enough of zombies at the moment, seeing on the title page that Grant also writes as Seanan McGuire gave me hope, even despite this being ‘part one of the Newsflesh trilogy’ – McGuire’s piece had been the one piece I’d really enjoyed in Chicks Dig Time Lords, so I expected this to be at least decent.
And while hardly great, it was a pleasant, enjoyable read. The worldbuilding is deftly done – set a few decades after a zombie outbreak, the anti-zombie precautions are very much in the same mould as our current ‘anti-terror’ laws – though I’d question the idea that blogging will still be regarded as ‘new media’ at that time, rather than hopelessly antiquated. All the characters were well sketched, the plot, while predictable, does have one twist that I at least didn’t see coming (though I really should have) and the prose style is very easy to read.
In fact, this reads like what we are now euphemistically supposed to call ‘Young Adult’ books (they’re not for young adults. I’m a young adult – I’m 32 – and they’re not aimed at me. Call them what they are, children’s books – or use the old term Heinlein used, ‘juveniles’). This isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it makes the book very, very readable. But the end result is something lightweight and lacking substance.
That sounds a harsher judgement than I mean it to. I enjoyed this (and despite it being part one of a trilogy, it had a proper structure and ending. It can be done, Willis) and while I’m not going to eagerly seek out parts two and three of the trilogy, nor am I going to avoid them. Definitely the most enjoyable of the ‘best novel’ candidates I’ve read so far.
Cryoburn by Lois McMaster Bujold started with so many strikes against it that I almost didn’t even get through the first chapter. It’s part of a ‘saga’ (I don’t do sagas, and I’m certainly not normally going to start reading something that’s part nineteen or whatever of a story). The characters have odd names in what appear to be multiple different orthographies, causing extra cognitive load to keep track of them. It’s set on a planet where people address each other with -san or -sensei endings but in all other ways behave like Westerners, and its main characters are important in some sort of Galactic Empire (unless you’re Asimov, I want my viewpoint characters to be fighting against hereditary dictators, not helping keep them in positions of power) and have hereditary titles themselves. Were I not trying to read everything so I can vote honestly in the Hugos, I wouldn’t have read this if you’d paid me.
However, *despite* all those things I ended up quite enjoying this. It seems to be riffing off Clifford Simak’s Why Call Them Back From Heaven? and its main effect was to make me want to reread that book, but I found myself almost unwillingly drawn into the story. Admittedly, the plot runs on rails so obvious that I predicted one twist ( “Gung’f abg zl zbzzl!” (ROT13 to avoid spoilers)) two chapters in advance down to the precise wording, but it’s still a *decent* plot, and it’s well-written. I won’t be seeking out any more of Bujold’s work based on this, but am pleasantly surprised by how decent it seemed given that it’s very, *very* much Not My Sort Of Thing.
Faction Paradox: A Romance In Twelve Parts
The Faction Paradox series of books has been one of the most consistently good and interesting series I’ve ever read – certainly the best multi-author series, but it’s had a relatively troubled history. Starting out with a series of novels published by Mad Norwegian (a small press in Iowa, devoted mostly to ‘cult TV’, but with a surprisingly high hit-rate of decent books), when Mad Norwegian stopped publishing new entries in the series, a small SF publisher in New Zealand, Random Static, took over.
However, Random Static have only published one novel in the series, the excellent Newtons Sleep. and their FAQ says “When’s the next book coming out? We can’t say yet, but expect an announcement early in 2009.”, so we’ve been waiting a while for anything new.
Luckily, another small press, Obverse Books, which specialises in short stories rather than novels, has stepped up, and the result is this, my favourite book so far this year.
For those who are unfamiliar with Faction Paradox, the series is originally the creation of Lawrence Miles (who, with Stuart Douglas, co-edits this volume) , although it’s had much input from other writers. The books don’t share a setting, characters or background, but all take place in the same shared universe, which provides a certain consistency of tone.
This universe is dominated by the Great Houses, a race of near-gods who can travel through space and time in their Timeships, but who prefer to simply exist on their Homeworld. In a very real sense, they *are* the universe – they embody its physical laws and history, and the universe mostly exists just because they have chosen to observe it in this form.
However recently the Great Houses have gone to war… to War, in fact, against an Enemy as powerful as them. Nothing is known about the Enemy, except what can be found by reading between the lines, except that they are the Enemy, and that for them to win might well mean not only the Great Houses ceasing to exist, but it might completely rewrite the whole universe – not even just its history, but its fundamental logic. The War covers all of space, all of time, and quite possibly those regions beyond either.
The War is in a kind of stalemate, but it has led to the involvement of several minor powers, including the Celestis (a race of malevolent conceptual entities), the various posthuman races, and Faction Paradox, a time-travelling voodoo cult who delight in playing both sides off against each other.
Faction Paradox: A Romance In Twelve Parts is a collection of twelve stories set in this universe. While the twelve stories are very different, they share a few themes. Primarily, they’re about story and its power – fans of Terry Pratchett or Neil Gaiman might well enjoy this book (despite its co-editor’s well-known antipathy towards Gaiman’s work) – but here story is seen as a far darker, more malevolent force than their comparatively safe work.
Many of the stories also seem Lovecraftian – not by using words like Cthulhu or shoggoth and hoping people get the reference and feel geeky, but by evoking the same feeling he did at his best, of existing in a world fought over by blind, impassive forces that can crush you without even noticing. In fact, some of the stories remind me even more of Lord Dunsany, the great 19th century fantasist who inspired Lovecraft, than of Lovecraft himself. Certainly most of the writers here have a prose style far removed from Lovecraft’s ponderous overwriting.
The stories here are a mixed bag, of course, as in any multi-author collection, and many of the best stories have only a tangential relationship to the Faction Paradox back story – several of them could have been published with only minor changes in a non-FP collection – but they actually feel, to me, more evocative of the Faction Paradox spirit than the ones that concentrate more directly on the Faction and its doings.
Storyteller by Matt Kimpton is one of those. A pseudo-Viking saga about what happens when a storyteller goes looking for stories to be part of, this is one of those “I wish I’d thought of that” stories that feels like an old folk tale. Gramps by Jonathan Dennis can similarly be read with no previous Faction knowledge, though this creepy little short-short about a cat called Gramps with a missing leg is *definitely* a Faction Paradox story.
I won’t deal with every story in the book, but what I will say is that those I enjoyed less are just those I enjoyed less, rather than bad stories – the quality level is remarkably consistent. In fact, the stories I enjoyed least tend to be the ones that were the kind of thing I was expecting when I bought the book – the good ones were just *better* than that.
That said, I don’t have as much to say about every story, so I’ll just look at a handful to give a flavour of the book. Mightier Than The Sword by Jay Eales, about the prison where they put the writers and a very familiar-seeming comic artist, Now Or Thereabouts by Blair Bidmead, which starts as a satire of The Apprentice before turning somewhat stranger, and Print The Legend by Daniel O’Mahony, which manages to have Charles Dickens and John Ga(u)lt team up with a shoggoth without, astonishingly, turning into AWESOME!, are all standouts.
But best by far is the closer, A Hundred Words From A Civil War, the long-awaited sequel to Of The City Of The Saved by Philip Purser-Hallard.
A Hundred Words… is a ‘drabbleplex’ – a hundred separate one-hundred-word stories that work together to tell a much bigger story. In Of The City… Purser-Hallard established an incredible setting, a city between this universe and the next where all the dead humans live forever. Here death has come to that city, and so has civil war – though not The War; this only involves the death of four trillion people, and is nothing like as all-pervasive, though it’s clearly a small part of the overall War.
A couple of examples (I hope PPH doesn’t mind me sharing these bits – if he does I will of course take them down):
Remakes make lousy soldiers.
I tell you, you build a person based round a character from some media fiction, they’re gonna have some pretty odd ideas about reality.
They’re terrible strategists. They make big, symbolic gestures, then act surprised when that doesn’t win the war outright. They abandon vital operations just to rescue one person. Usually a kid.
Yeah, sometimes it’s a dog.
They sacrifice themselves heroically over and over, knowing someone’s gonna Remake them every goddam time.
Did you know the rebels run an entire POW camp just for John Rambos? There’s something like 500 of him there now.
When the most sophisticated of the posthuman civilisations are co-opted into the Civil War, it becomes a rarefied affair. Five Districts are carrying out hostilities entirely through the medium of music, exchanging shifting tonalities and rhythms which delightfully reprogram the senses with revised systems of aesthetics.
Representatives of two more rival cultures are vying in Flautencil’s Plaza, their societies’ respective destinies invested in a single combat which appears to the ordinary human spectator (of whom there are thousands assembled) to consist of sniffing orchids and exchanging significant glances.
The apparent flirtation is in its seventh month, and approaching no resolution.
Purser-Hallard’s story also contains short stories featuring many characters from other stories in the book, giving many of the stories a final extra twist. But even without that, this pushes so many of my buttons it might as well be called “ten thousand words to excite Andrew Hickey” – a piece of eschatological science fiction which references the ideas of Nick Bostrom and has Philip K Dick talking about Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, along with the final deaths of all the dying-and-resurrected gods? That’s my kind of thing, as regular readers will no doubt realise.
And the ending of Purser-Hallard’s story, and of the book, is absolutely chilling and puts the whole book in another light. I won’t spoil it for you, but… just read it, OK?
Faction Paradox, A Romance In Twelve Parts, is available in hardback for £11.99 from Obverse Books.
Hugo Blogging 1: Chicks Dig Time Lords
I’ve been thinking for a while that I need to start reading more science fiction (especially as I’ve been *writing* more SF, and it’s a field that demands keeping up with what’s current). Other than Charles Stross, Greg Egan and Neal Stephenson, I’ve read fairly little from the last thirty years or so (oddly, while I prefer SF to fantasy, I’ve read far more fantasy from my own lifetime than SF), though I have an exhaustive knowledge of the field before that.
So I decided to get the Hugo packet, to get an idea of the current state of the best in the field, and vote in the Hugos for the first time.
(I note incidentally, that the Hugos are awarded by AV *and* have a ‘none of the above’ option and so are more democratic than our Commons elections will be. Not that I’m bitter. (I am bitter.))
While I’ve got it, I thought I might as well blog my reactions to the various entries as I read them. First up, an entry in the “Best Related Work” category
Chicks Dig Time Lords is a book I *wanted* to like. It’s published by Mad Norwegian, who among other books have published almost all the Faction Paradox books and the wonderful About Time series of guidebooks, and who are a very small independent company. And it’s about the female experience of fandom, something that’s been neglected.
I certainly wouldn’t have any hesitation in recommending it to some people, but I am so far from the target audience for this that it’s not funny. While the promotion for the book has described it as being about female fandom, it’s actually, for the most part, about a very specific part of female fandom – namely people who will use the word ‘squee’ on a regular basis. We’re actually, here, looking at a snapshot of a sub-subculture – one that grew up around the website Outpost Gallifrey and communities on LiveJournal in the middle of the last decade, one mostly based around enjoying the Welsh series, and one that is extremely uncritical of the show itself.
Now, this is not an invalid perspective, and it is one that deserves to be shared, but this book seems written for people who already have that perspective. Words like ‘squee’ or ‘aca-fan’ are thrown around with an assumption that one has the cultural context to appreciate not just the literal meaning of the words but some kind of subtextual nuance for them. (I had to google aca-fan, having never come across the term before).
Far too much of the book is made up of short autobiographical sketches of very similar-sounding people. There must be at least four or five essays in here which could be summed up as “I remember watching Tom Baker on the PBS affiliate for my Midwestern US state with my annoying kid brother when I was a kid in the 80s. All the other kids at my school thought I was weird for liking this weird English English weird English thing with wobbly sets, so I grew out of it. But then Russel T Davies brought it back and I fell in love with all the characters, especially Jack Harkness, and SQUEE!”
Now, again, I am not criticising this as a perspective – as one of the essays (by Kate Orman, one of the better writers involved) is titled, “If I Can’t Squee, I Don’t Want to be Part of Your Revolution”, and enthusiasm is the reason why anyone becomes a fan of anything. And I would have a *LOT* of explaining to do to my wife when she gets back from visiting her Minnesotan parents tomorrow if I tried to say that the perspective of women who grew up in the midwestern US in the 1980s didn’t deserve to be shared.
But I am, fundamentally, an analytical person. Descriptions of how something makes you feel do very little for me, compared to descriptions of *why* something makes you feel that way (or attempts to make the reader feel the same way). I also find it far more revealing sometime to talk about something’s failures than its successes – I’d rather read About Time or The Discontinuity Guide than something that didn’t talk about Doctor Who’s flaws, for the same reasons I’d rather read Liberator than a Lib Dem party press release. And the analytical is pretty much absent from this book. Which is OK. That’s not what it’s for. It’s a celebration. I’m just not a very celebratory person.
Of these autobiographical sketch things, the best by far is “Mathematical Excellence: A Documentary” by Seanan McGuire, which moves away from the generic and had me genuinely laughing quite hard, as well as being moved by the rather poignant ending. Most of the rest of the pieces in this vein are descriptions of emotions, while McGuire’s piece inspires those emotions in the reader. Maybe more of the other pieces would, if I were part of the target audience.
More interesting from my point of view are the descriptions of fan creativity – people talking about creating costumes for their own imagined characters in the Doctor Who fictional universe, or writing fan fiction, or making fan videos. This is something that female fandom has been far more willing to do than male fandom generally (all exceptions duly noted – of course any female/male split is an artificial division, but this book *exists* because of that artificial distinction) – to take elements of others’ work and reimagine them as elements in their own creative projects.
Still, though, by the nature of the book, these essays are too short to properly go into the issues involved or the process of making these things, and I get the impression that a far more interesting book (from my point of view) could have been made just using examples of this fan-art (though I understand that it would be prohibitively difficult to do legally). At least one representative piece of this fan art has been included, a comic strip called Torchwood Babiez. Unfortunately, it didn’t display properly in my ebook reader.
And the book is rounded out by a few interviews with women who have been involved in Doctor Who, mostly actors who have performed for Big Finish, which might be interesting to those who’ve not read interviews with these people before.
It sounds like I’m being terribly critical of this book, and I’m really not. If you’ve taken part in online new-Who fandom, especially on LiveJournal or the old Outpost Gallifrey, this book will probably be precisely your thing, and I know some of my friends have been and are part of that world. The writers are obviously intelligent, talented people for the most part, and I can’t imagine a better book of this type. But it’s emphatically not for me. But that’s OK – not everything has to be. It’s an open-hearted, welcoming, *friendly* book, and that I’m a cold-hearted joyless curmudgeon is, essentially, my problem, not the book’s.
New Book – The Beach Boys On CD vol 1: 1961 – 1969 and Lulu Sale
My new book is now out from Lulu.com . As always, I’ve not yet received a proof copy, so caveat emptor for a couple of days. Ebook versions will be available from Amazon (Kindle) and Smashwords (ePub) from tomorrow night. I’ll update the ‘my books’ page then. The PDF version is currently available from Lulu.
Cover:
Between 1961 and 1969 the Beach Boys made nineteen albums, including some of the best music ever recorded – and some not so good.
In this book, Andrew Hickey looks at this music track by track, analysing every song that Brian, Carl, Dennis, Mike, Al, Bruce and David recorded and released during that time period.
From early surf and car classics like 409 to sophisticated masterpieces like Time To Get Alone, in this book you’ll learn how they were recorded, why they work the way they do, and which albums to buy if you want to hear a great band at their best.
As always, if you buy this book and enjoy it, PLEASE tell your friends. I’m not a big publisher and have literally no marketing budget – the only way anyone will get to hear about this is if you tell people.
Coincidentally, just as I was about to click publish here, Lulu have announced that for the next five days you can get 20% off any order (up to a maximum saving of £250) by entering the code HOPUK305 at checkout. So why not try some of my other books, or those by Andrew Rilstone, Simon Bucher-Jones, Lawrence Burton or my uncle?
Doctor Who: Smoking Mirror
(Sorry if this is drivel – I’m not very well and having a great deal of difficulty writing coherent sentences. Pretty much every sentence here started out as “it’s like that thing, oh you know, the one with the thing”).
Obligatory disclaimer-cum-explanation as to why I’ve bought this book. I’ve vaguely known Lawrence Burton as one of the more intelligent posters on the Doctor Who forum Outpost Gallifrey and on the Faction Paradox forum for a year or two. We’ve recently become Facebook/Twitter friends, and he wrote a very flattering review of my most recent book. So I may be biased here.
On the other hand, I don’t know him well enough that I think I’m biased – and if you read through that thread (Lawrence reviewing several hundred science fiction books) it’s obvious both that he can actually write, and also that he shares a number of my tastes – of the books we’ve both read, I’d say I agree with at least 80% of his reviews, and especially the stuff he’s most glowing about (Philip K Dick, Lawrence Miles, David Louis Edelman) and his tastes in individual works by writers (preferring The End Of Eternity and The Gods Themselves to Asimov’s Robot stuff).
So when I saw he’d self-published a couple of books himself, I bought this one without even reading the description.
It turns out to be an unofficial Doctor Who novel. I’d hesitate to call it fanfic, partly because it was intended for BBC Books (and quite why it was rejected I can’t understand) and partly because fanfic tends to suggest something of poor quality, and this is anything but. It’s a Doctor Who novel that happens not to have been licensed by the BBC, that’s all. (Lawrence is selling the book at cost price and not making a penny from it, I hasten to add).
Given that it’s self-published, there are surprisingly few criticisms I can make of it. The review thread linked above is called “Crappy 70s paperbacks with airbrushed spaceships on cover”, and the cover design is a perfect imitation of those, the typography on the back being spookily reminiscent of some of them (the closest comparison I can find is the Granada paperback copies of The End Of Eternity and The Zap Gun, but I know I’ve seen something even closer). However, the typography in the book itself is less wonderful, being in Times New Roman (or a facsimile thereof) and eight- or ten-point type. Having a legally-blind wife, I know from experience that ideally one should print things in at least twelve-point, and wherever possible use a sans-serif font, for readability.
Other than that, the only really jarring thing about the book is a moment of lampshade hanging, when the Doctor is on a collect-the-plot-tokens quest and thinks about how he hates this kind of thing when it happens in books. It’s not done quite well enough to overcome the problems.
One other problem I have – and one that’s my problem rather than the book’s – is that the book is set in pre-Columbian Mexico, and so the characters’ names are all phonetically unlike anything I’m accustomed to. This gave me some difficulty in keeping track of the characters, but that can hardly be helped, given the subject.
The plot is a pretty good one – why has the universe shrunk, so that it now consists of only a small area of Central America and a few centuries? Why are the Gods walking among the humans? – but the plot is less important than the writing. Lawrence obviously has a huge love for the Mexica culture and mythology, and this comes across in every word. Before I read this, all I knew of the Mexica culture was that some of their sculptures in the British Museum look like they’d been made by Jack Kirby, if Kirby had had an obsession with skulls (which is a good thing). But Lawrence manages both to make this seem like a sympathetic culture (putting even the human sacrifice into a context where it seems entirely reasonable) and to bring out the utter strangeness of the culture’s myths.
A lot of individual scenes will stay with me for a long time – the Doctor getting an inkling that problems are starting when Carl Sagan starts talking about how the Earth is a few thousand years old, the god at the centre of the TARDIS, the journey through Mictlan – this is a book as much about the journey as the destination, and Lawrence isn’t afraid of devoting time to his interests, whether that be retelling old myths or explaining Mexica social structure or making asides about old sitcoms.
In fact, after the obvious in-joke that the Third Doctor used to watch Dad’s Army (which starred Bill Pertwee) I started wondering about the other references – what does the confirmation of a Doctor-Who-universe Wilfred Brambell and Tony Hancock mean for the careers of the ‘Whoniverse’ Ron Grainer and Terry Nation? – but that’s just the 60s-TV fan in me coming out.
And there’s a very sitcom feel about parts of this book, but in a good way. It’s a funny book, but the humour all flows from the situations, whether it be the Doctor’s other console rooms (I want to see the McConsole Room ™ now) or the TARDIS translation circuit malfunction that renders speech more… idiomatically than before. The one funny bit that doesn’t quite fit in is the bit with three priests (trying not to spoil anything here). But that is so funny – and so incongruous – that it works, even though it could easily have fallen into the too-common trap of mistaking a reference for an actual joke.
The characterisation is spot-on as well. Lawrence catches Peri’s voice perfectly, and his Sixth Doctor is definitely Colin Baker (although the character here is closer to the TV series than to the more nuanced portrayal in the audio stories – understandably, as this was written in 2002, when the audios hadn’t been going that long). At times the Doctor seems almost *too* verbose, but then this is a Doctor whose defining writers were Pip & Jane Baker, and the fact that nobody else talks like that shows it as a stylistic choice rather than a tin ear.
It’s a first novel, with all that that entails, and Lawrence’s influences are clear (and he thanks Philip Purser-Hallard and Simon Bucher-Jones in the acknowledgements, if it hadn’t been obvious) – I’m sure the use of Mictlan here is at least in part a reference to its use in the Faction Paradox books – but while this doesn’t rise to the level of the very best Doctor Who books, it’s funny, clever, well-written and written by someone with an obvious love for his subjects – both Doctor Who and pre-Columbian Mexica culture – and is certainly better than a good 90% of the Doctor Who books I’ve read.
Now if only Air France hadn’t lost my bag with my DVD of The Aztecs in, I could do a compare/contrast here. Oh well…
I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this to a non-fan of Doctor Who, but it’s an excellent self-contained story which requires a minimum of continuity knowledge, so if you’re even a casual fan – especially if you’re a fan of the Sixth Doctor, who’s otherwise even worse-served in print than on TV – this is well worth a read. I’ll definitely be buying Lawrence’s book of short stories.
Smoking Mirror is published by Ce Acatl/Lulu and is available here.
My Books Now Available For Kindle
I dislike the Kindle, for a variety of reasons, but it’s hugely popular and Amazon sold more ebooks than physical books last year on it, so I’ve made my books available that way.
Please note, I do not have any Kindle software myself, so have no way of checking these files – they’re mechanically converted by Amazon from the same files the print copies of my book were created from, but I cannot vouch for their quality, as they are in a closed format I can’t read.
If anyone buys these and has a problem with them, email me at andrew @ thenationalpep . co . uk and I’ll gladly send you a free replacement as an open-format ePub.
These should be identical in every way to the print, PDF and ePub versions, except they have no ISBN (Lulu provides these free, Amazon doesn’t).
I’m still working with Lulu tech support about the ePub version of Sci-Ence! Justice Leak!, but that should be out shortly.
The Beatles In Mono – Kindle (US), Kindle (UK)
Sci-Ence! Justice Leak! – Kindle (US), Kindle (UK)
These have lending enabled and don’t have any DRM. I would ask, but not demand, that you tell people to buy their own copy rather than copy it for them, as I’m still very far from even having made minimum wage for the time taken to write them and it’s very cheap, but I’m not going to force you to with extra hoops to jump through.
The New Book Is Out!
For my 600th post here, I’m announcing that my new book, Sci-Ence! Justice Leak!, is out. It’s available as a hardback book with a pretty dust-jacket for twenty pounds, a paperback for ten pounds, a PDF for only three pounds, and tomorrow it should be available as an ePub for a fiver, so there’s a version for every taste and wallet.
The book, for those who haven’t read my recent deluge of posts on the subject, is a set of interlinked essays on Grant Morrison, Doctor Who/Faction Paradox, Jack Kirby, DC Comics, the ideas of ‘continuity’ and ‘canon’, quantum physics, black holes, the life trap, entropy, cybernetics, Liberalism, Hypertime and more. It collects all the ‘escapology and eschatology’ and ‘hyperpost’ essays, but does so in a way that makes it more than the sum of its parts – I’ve put a LOT of effort into structuring this, and it will, I hope, repay study. I’ve tried to make it the same sort of dense, fractally structured thing as Who Sent The Sentinels or The Book Of The War (though whether I’ve succeeded or not is hardly for me to say).
Now, this book has a VERY limited audience. I thought it would be limited to just me, but David Allison and Plok both liked it, so there may be as many as five people who would like it. But those people would *REALLY* like it.
I am very proud of this, and want those five people to find it, so could anyone who buys this, or who has a friend who might be interested, PLEASE let as many people as possible know about it? Even if you don’t like it, a link from a blog or a tweet might let someone who *would* like it know about it – and a bad review of this might be as attractive to the tiny number of people who would enjoy it as a good one.
I’m not asking for links to make money on this – there’s no way on earth I’ll ever make a decent hourly wage for the time this took – I’m just genuinely proud of this thing, and think that the few people who like it will like it A LOT, so I want them to find out about it.
Thank you, and thank you to everyone who’s read these 600 posts, without whom I would never have written this or my other book. And now this is out, I can go back to posting about other stuff, starting tomorrow.
Blurb For Book
I’m just giving the new book, Sci-Ence! Justice Leak! one final read-through before sending it to my volunteer proofreaders. Depending on how quickly they can read through it, and how many suggestions they make, the plan should still be for it to come out on Sunday.
Here’s the back cover blurb:
What do Batman, Doctor Who, quantum physics, Oscar Wilde, liberalism, the second law of thermodynamics, Harry Potter fanfic, postmodernism, and Superman have in common?
If your answer to that was “Nothing” then… well, you’re probably right. But in this book Andrew Hickey will try to convince you otherwise. In doing so he’ll take you through:How to escape from a black hole and when you might not want to
The scientist who thinks he’s proved the existence of heaven and what that has to do with Batman
What to do if you discover you’re a comic-book character
Whether killing your own grandfather is really a bad idea
And how to escape from The Life Trap!An examination of the comics of Grant Morrison, Alan Moore and Jack Kirby, Doctor Who spin-off media, and how we tell stories to each other, Sci-Ence! Justice Leak! tells you to look around you and say:
“This is an imaginary universe… Aren’t they all?”
And here’s the front cover
Eschatology & Escapology 4: Faction Paradox
A revised and improved version of this essay is in my book Sci-Ence! Justice Leak! – hardback, paperback, PDF Kindle (US), Kindle (UK), all other ebook formats
“But there was war, even there. There was a war in Heaven. And the wrong side won. The Dark Side won.”
Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle 1, by Grant Morrison and Pasqual Ferry
In the mid-90s Doctor Who was in the worst state imaginable. The TV Movie starring Paul McGann had been a flop, and not only was there no prospect of a series, there was not even the prospect of anyone else having a go because of the complicated rights issues it created. On top of that, the New Adventures series of books, which had been an ‘official’ continuation of the show’s story (at least in the eyes of the writers) and projected an ‘adult’ image (though in retrospect many of them were more adolescent) lost their license to use Doctor Who characters, and instead there was a series from BBC Books, which started with the frankly awful The Eight Doctors by Terrance Dicks (which was the dullest thing ever to have the ‘Doctor Who’ name on it until the new series came along) and didn’t look like it was going to get much better from there.
And then Lawrence Miles wrote Alien Bodies, which for the small number of people who were reading or writing the Who books at the time (I wasn’t one, and I’ve had a lot of catching up to do – they were doing a book a fortnight for the decade-and-a-half the show was off the air) was revelatory.
The basic premise was a good one, which is always a good start – various interested parties (the Time Lords, the Celestial Intervention Agency, the Krotons and others) were bidding for a weapon, which turns out to be the body of the Doctor, from his subjective future – he’s had so many adventures by that point that the information encoded in his body is valuable.
But the book also reveals quite a bit about the future of the Time Lords. In the future, the Time Lords are fighting a war, and losing. We don’t know who the enemy are, and the Doctor doesn’t want to know, for fear of upsetting the Web Of Time. But the Time Lords are, to put it bluntly, shit-scared. So scared that the Celestial Intervention Agency (who are pretty much what their initials would suggest – one of Robert Holmes’ black jokes turned into a major part of fan-lore) have removed themselves from history altogether, turning themselves into purely conceptual entities. Most of the major powers in the universe were lining up on one side or the other, but there was also a third force involved.
Faction Paradox were a breakaway group, started by a rebel Time Lord called Grandfather Paradox, who was so called because (or so the myth goes) he actually did kill his own grandfather, wiping himself out of existence and becoming pure concept. They are a ‘time travelling voodoo cult’ who worship paradox, and who treat timelines and other such concepts as being loas or egregores in Chaos Magick type workings. They wear bone masks made from the skulls of Time Lord/vampire half-breeds from an impossible time-line, and aspire to be a random factor in the war between the Time Lords and The Enemy. (If you’re now thinking of The Invisibles, you’re not far off – Richard Flowers, after reading the first volume of The Invisibles on my recommendation, said “it’s Faction Paradox, if it had used ITC adventure serials rather than BBC Doctor Who as a jumping-off point”).
The identity of The Enemy is never revealed, though Miles’ novel Dead Romance (one of the last entries in the now-Doctorless New Adventures series, which continued with a focus on supporting characters, this was later reprinted as a Faction Paradox ‘prequel’ by Mad Norwegian Press ) gives a very good idea of who he thought it was at the time. But the War caught the imagination of the writers of the series, and quickly became a major throughline for the books.
This was both a good and a bad thing – good in that it inspired some of the better books from the series, but bad in that the one thing a relatively unpopular series really didn’t need was a complicated, ambiguous ‘story arc’ running through many books. The major stories in this ‘arc’ are Miles’ two-volume Interference (where the Doctor’s own past is rewritten, to the extent that his third regeneration now happens in the ‘wrong’ place and time – probably the most controversial Who book, I like it myself, but know people who despise it), The Taking Of Planet 5 by Simon Bucher-Jones and Mark Clapham (a rather nice story which combines Lovecraft pastiche, hard SF and the return of an old villain) and The Shadows Of Avalon by Paul Cornell (a sorta-kinda Midsummer Night’s Dream-cum-Arthurian-legend riff with Silurians), before it was suddenly curtailed by Peter Anghelides and Stephen Cole’s The Ancestor Cell.
The Ancestor Cell has a … mixed reputation. Among other things it revealed that Grandfather Paradox was the Doctor in the future and that the Enemy are (as Miles put it) ‘three pages of technobabble’, before also destroying Gallifrey. This was intended to clear up the continuity of the series and create a fresh start, but in fact the books became more impenetrable than ever (though some post-Ancestor Cell books build on it very successfully, most notably Lance Parkin’s The Gallifrey Chronicles).
As pretty much all Miles’ original contributions to the book series were excised by The Ancestor Cell, Miles took his ball away with him, and started a new series of books, audio plays and (two issues of) comics based on Faction Paradox, licensing a few other characters who’d appeared in the New Adventures and Eighth Doctor Adventures, and completely ignoring the revelations of The Ancestor Cell. In this new series, the ‘Great Houses’ (the Time Lords) were still fighting a nameless Enemy (which in this context seems to be more a mode of perception than a physical enemy).
(FOOTNOTE: The whole question of who fought who in the War was made even more complex with the return of the Doctor Who TV series, which portrayed a Time War with some strong similarities to the one in the books (The End Of Time, the last Russel T Davies episode of Doctor Who, has been described by those who’ve seen it as being like an adaptation of Dead Romance by someone who hadn’t understood it properly), but where the Enemy were specifically named as the Daleks. There was ALSO the start of a War in Big Finish’s Gallifrey series (which looks like it will be told in full in their forthcoming Season Four). Richard Flowers and Alex Wilcock have made an extraordinary attempt to disentangle all of this and interpret it as rival Hypertime threads in an essay in my ‘zine PEP – free PDF and expensive paper copy. That essay is essential reading for anyone who is reading this.)
I’m only going to look at the first four books of the series (which is still ongoing, between different publishers, at the moment – a new short story anthology is due to be published by Obverse Books in February 2011), partly for reasons of space and partly because I’m more familiar with those books, but so far the Faction Paradox series has been the only multi-author book series I’ve ever read where every single book can be recommended without qualification. Given its origins as a spin-off of a spin-off, this is nothing short of a miracle.
In part this is because the authors clearly have something of a shared aesthetic. They all belong to what Lance Parkin (whose own Faction Paradox novel is one of the best) refers to as The Gray Tradition:
Here’s a by no means exhaustive list of the sort of authors I’m thinking of: Douglas Adams, Ballard, Iain Banks, Roberto Bolano, Borges, Michael Chabon, Junot Diaz, Phillip K Dick, Umberto Eco, Alisdair Gray, David Lindsay, CS Lewis, HP Lovecraft, David Mitchell, Michael Moorcock, Alan Moore, Grant Morrison, Philip Pullman, David Foster Wallace.
They also have more general shared cultural roots – not only in Doctor Who, the mythos of which permeates everything, but at a couple of steps’ remove, like a pinch of garlic added to enhance the flavour rather than anything overt, but in things like I, Claudius (both the TV series – which Miles regards, rightly, as the best TV programme ever made – and Graves’ original novels, which provide an important source for at least two of the books), Monty Python and more. This gives the books a feeling of unity that makes them feel like the work of a single author trying on different styles more than several different authors.
(In this respect I’m talking only about the books, which are a very different beast from the audio adventures. The audios tell a single, complex story with a large cast of characters and regular cameos from Doctor Who villains who are either in the public domain or whose rights can be bought cheaply. They are aimed four-square at what, for want of a better term, we can call the ‘geek’ market, and while interesting aren’t really on the same level as the books).
The Book Of The War, the first book in the independent Faction Paradox series, is one of the two or three most astonishing novels I’ve ever read, if it even counts as a novel. A collaborative work by ten authors, edited by Miles (with the largest contributions apparently being by Miles and Bucher-Jones, but also featuring work by Clapham, Philip Purser-Hallard, Daniel O’Mahony, Ian McIntire, Mags L. Halliday, Helen Fayle, Kelly Hale and Jonathan Dennis), it’s somewhere in-between a non-linear hypertext-like novel, an encyclopedia of a non-existent world, a collection of short stories and a role-playing game sourcebook.
The non-linear structure (though it can be read as a linear story by following the links between the stories in a particular way) is, of course, appropriate for a story of a war that takes place throughout time and rewrites history, but it’s far from the only – or even the most – notable thing about this extraordinary book. Every one of the several hundred entries contains at least one new or interesting idea, ranging from the City Of The Saved (the Omega Point by way of Philip Jose Farmer’s Riverworld) to the conceptual entity The Shift who enters and rewrites the text as you’re reading it, to the connection between Bach’s Musical Offering and the early computer experiments of Charles Babbage, to the hilarious Mulan/Phantom Menace mash-up, to the history of James Whale’s last, forever-unfinished film, to the Ally McBeal parody, to Lego bricks you can use to build your own black holes, to the Piltdown Mob to… well, to entries with titles like “Women (Dressing Up As)” or “Killerbots (Autonomic)”.
The story it tells is a simple one – there is one major force in the universe, the Great Houses, who literally created history. With the event known as ‘The Anchoring Of The Thread’ they created the whole history of the universe from beginning to end, and made it the kind of universe where creatures like themselves could exist, to the extent that they are closer to gods or living concepts than to biological entities. They literally embody history, and it’s not just physically but conceptually impossible for them to be threatened… until they are. By an enemy which they can’t even comprehend, which seems to be attempting to rewrite history into something other. Rather than telling the story of the War (though a chunk of it does), the book concentrates on the effects the War has on other species, most notably a Lesser Species known as Humanity.
Some of the ideas in here come from earlier BBC Books and New Adventures by Miles or his friends, while others would later be expanded into novels or audios in the series, but this is just like getting an injection of pure Concept straight into your brain. An extraordinary, extraordinary achievement.
This Town Will Never Let Us Go, by Lawrence Miles, the first Faction Paradox novel proper, is equally extraordinary and thought-provoking, but in different ways. Described as ‘a study in ritual, politics, pop culture, time-travel and urban horror’, this is equal parts Vonnegut, Orwell, Philip K Dick and Pynchon, a story of what happens to four people in a literally anonymous town. Told over one night from midnight to 6AM, it splits its three stories up into ‘minutes’ rather than chapters, offering a minute-by-minute breakdown of the night in titles like “5.21 Bastard Racoon Has Arrived”, “1.58 On Red Uranium” and “0.20 Traces Of Nuts”.
It tells of a town that is being devastated by a war the inhabitants can’t understand. All they know is that missiles drop from somewhere and cause explosions, and that somehow nobody is ever hurt by the explosions (some people have a theory that the explosions rewrite time so that anyone who was there is removed from history, but this is obviously absurd). They don’t know who’s fighting the war, or why, just that the war exists.
Our protagonists are Inangela and Horror, two Goths performing an improvised ritual with the intent of making the world a little more interesting, Valentine, an ambulance attendant who has a girl in a bone mask dying in his ambulance but has something even more important to do, and Tiffany Korta, a manufactured pop star who’s worried that her image is becoming sentient. Over these six hours, the story follows how all their lives change through such events as George Orwell’s appearance on the Muppet Show and the discovery of a buried Timeship.
A book that takes several readings to absorb properly, This Town… is aiming for something very, very different from the usual SF tie-in stuff you might expect. Closer to Joyce or Pynchon than to Terrance Dicks, had this been published as a standalone work rather than as part of a series it would be the kind of thing that would be in with a chance of winning prestigious literary awards, were literary awards open enough to truly interesting writing. An unalloyed masterpiece.
Of The City Of The Saved… by Philip Purser-Hallard can probably best be described as Post-Singularity Noir. The City Of The Saved exists on the boundary between this universe and the ‘next’ one, at the very end of time, and contains every single human being, from the first proto-hominid right through to posthuman alien hybrids and cyborgs, within its very expansive boundaries (it’s the size of a galaxy or so), all resurrected at the end of time. Based loosely around Frank Tipler’s Omega Point idea, here everyone is free to live out an immortal life in whatever culture they want, from reconstructed Imperial Rome to crime-ridden slums, with no fear of physical harm ever coming to them.
But there are questions. Why are only humans and part-humans there? What about aliens and robots? Who created the City and what for? Are the agents of the Wartime Powers infiltrating the City, and if so how?
And then suddenly, somehow, someone is murdered in the City, something that should never have been possible. And Laura Tobin (a character Miles created for the Eighth Doctor books) is asked by a member of Faction Paradox to investigate. Along the way she uncovers the truth behind the City, the horrible reality of the next universe and the secret identity of the Emperor Claudius, and briefly meets Philip K Dick, while Julian Mammoth-Tooth, a Neanderthal, searches for his lost love.
Finding the perfect balance between the rush of ideas in The Book Of The War and new-reader accessibility, Of The City Of The Saved… manages to be a genuinely thought-provoking book (Purser-Hallard’s doctoral thesis was on the relationship between creator and creature in SF, while he’s written extensively on SF and Christianity) while also being entertaining fun. The only criticism I can make is that it’s not actually possible to solve the mystery given only what we’re told in the story, but that’s a pretty minor criticism for a great book.
And finally (as far as this article goes, though there have been three more novels since) we come to Lance Parkin’s Warlords Of Utopia. The least interesting of these books, this is ‘merely’ an extremely good high-concept SF novel, about a war between all the universes in the multiverse where Rome never fell and all those where the Nazis won World War II. That it manages to live up to, and even surpass, the high concept makes it worth reading.
Written as an extremely good pastiche of Robert Graves’ I, Claudius and Claudius The God (explained in-story – “I commissioned a prose piece ostensibly the autobiography of the first Emperor Claudius from one of my fellow soldiers, Sepulcrius, but ended up having to amend a great deal of it myself. If you are minded that my writing style resembles his famous book, then that is the reason”), Parkin occasionally goes, Douglas Adams-like, for the cheap joke (and, rather more annoyingly, throws in a few Monty Python references. Much as I love Python, the idea that the mere mention of a line from Python is enough to make something interesting and/or funny is one of the most damaging to have ever happened), but he is so good at his world-building and so consistent in his Gravesian style that I can more than forgive this.
Most impressively, he paints a realistic portrait of a Roman Empire that includes all its worst features – slavery, dictatorship, paedophilia – but still manages to be clearly preferable to the Nazi worlds, and has his narrator defend all these while still being a relatable protagonist. (Of course, a truly brave book would have reversed things, and had the Nazis be the ‘goodies’ in comparison to the Roman Empire, but that would be in horribly bad taste for the forseeable future). Few writers at the moment can avoid the temptation to assume that late-20th/early-21st century small-l-liberal Western values have ‘really’ been universal in all times and cultures, and that all decent people ‘really’ agreed with them. Parkin manages it.
Warlords Of Utopia is the least interesting of these four books, but not due to any faults in itself – it’s a very, very good SF adventure novel, well-written and imaginative. It’s just that the other three can stand up to pretty much any book I’ve ever read, whereas Warlords can ‘only’ stand up against 99.9% of SF novels.




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