Russell Forden's Blog

I’m making some slow progress on the new novel. The first thing I did was to start organising the chapters I already have, and to work out where the gaps are and rearrange everything. To help me do this I’ve started using Powerpoint, with each slide representing a chapter, with notes about the chapter, which I can move about depending on where I think it should go within the novel. Sort of like having sticky notes on a board, or a white board chart. This phase is all about the plotting.

I’ve got some major decisions to make about the story that I haven’t quite figured out yet. The story hinges on an episode where my three main characters, Charlie, Ron and Gary, commit an act of treason by using the timegates to thwart the US govt’s plans to keep them for themselves. The story then follows them back into the past, where they hide out from the repercussions of their actions and each have important adventures. I can’t quite get the details of that hinge part right yet. I’m thinking of being very minimalist with it, and maybe just hint at the govt’s nefarious plans and then cut to the adventures in the past. The reader can then fill in the details. I don’t like overly busy plotting. We’ll see.

The other thing I’m working on at the moment is more details about my character, Ron. His ancestors are Paiute indians from the Indio County territories, and the story will eventually take us and Ron back into that history. So I need to do more research about Ron’s ancestry, and fit it into his present situation as he grows up to eventually become a member of the Tesla University Timegate team. I have some books on the subject of the Paiutes, care of the good old Gutenberg Project, so they should prove helpful. But I’ll also need some recent treatments of the People. Gotta get those details right.

I’m realising more and more that the story has a kind of Heart of Darkness thing going on. There’s also a big theme about the inherent violence in Man (and I do mean men, not women). And by violence I don’t just mean physical violence, but mental, emotional and political. I don’t know how important this will be to the overall impact of the novel, but I suspect it won’t be major. It’s just a peg to hang a story on. I mean, there’s very little that’s original under the sun, isn’t there? Even James Joyce felt the need to wrap Ulysses around an old Greek myth, thereby creating a bedrock for his incredible stream of consciousness narrative. The most we can hope for as writers is to give notice of some slight originality in our material, whether it’s just a quirky character, a moment of transcendence or a quotable line of dialogue.Heart of Darkness and The Secret Sharer

In the course of writing my first science fiction novel, Eye of the Timegate, the word count blew out to around 240,000 words by the time the first draft was completed. The finished work clocked in at just over 136,00 words. A lot of stuff was left on the cutting floor. After I finished the first novel, I took about 80,000 words of the leftovers and started fashioning, not a sequel, but a kind of spinoff novel. This was material that took place at the same time as the events in the first novel. It would be a sideways, parallel novel to the first one, following up intriguing storylines and characters that I’d abandoned for the sake of brevity. I did some work on it for a time, then abandoned it for a later date.

That time has come. It came when I realised there was no way in hell I was going to let myself get out of this great, wonderful life with its tremendous angels of affirmation and inspiration without finishing that damn thing. I mean, 80,000 words already. Come on!

This new story focuses on three characters in particular: Ron Everson, a young descendent of the Paiute Indians of Inyo County; Charlie Dunn, an ex astronaut and national hero; and Gary Mullens, a science mechanic and returning character from Eye of the Timegate. Their story involves a trip using the Timegates back to the wild American west of 1873, interspersed with adventures in New York 1980 and Boston 1773. It’s meant to be an exciting, rooting tooting adventure story of the old west (and the old east) with a general theme of redemption and acceptance. Or at least I think it is, at this point. I’m not sure.

There’s still a lot of work to do on it. I thought it might be aimed at a young adult audience, because my original vision of Ron and Gary was of a couple of young men not long out of high school who idolise the more worldly and heroic Charlie. But my ideas about that are changing. And the style and point of view are still uncertain. At the moment I’m leaning towards material like The Land Of Little Rain, by Mary Austin, and Life Among the Piutes, Their Wrongs and Claims by Sarah Winnemucca. There’s also some of Jack Kerouac’s energetic, incandescent prose rolling round my head.

I like quite a bit of what I’ve written already, especially Ron and Charlie’s sojourn in 1873 California. But there are a lot of gaps in the story and ways it could go. I’m still not certain how I should proceed. Do I keep much of the original material, or do I ‘throw out my darlings’ and re-write? I plan to make updates here about my progress on this new, spinoff novel in the coming weeks and months. Feel free to come along for the ride.

Here’s a brief excerpt from the novel. It’s the opening few paragraphs of the first chapter. I have no idea if it will remain so in the course of finishing the thing. But for now, it stays. Hope you like it.

PROLOGUE

1998

To the whites it was known as the Land of Little Rain. To the Paiutes and Shoshone it was the Dwelling Place of the Great Spirit. It was Inyo County, specifically the Owens Valley, California.

For much of the year it lay parched between the Sierra Nevadas to the west, and the White Mountains to the east. Not far to the south lay Death Valley and a scorched, dry land.

But a little rain had lately come to the valley, falling especially on the little town of Bethany, just south of Independence. This town contained a park – a small oasis of green that was divided by a creek and bordered by hills on either side. The park was a popular picnicking site for the townsfolk in summer, and a yearly attraction for all the children. At its centre was a curious object, a large monolith of gray-white granite that stood erect out of the surrounding grasslands, like an old and weathered giant tooth.

Not far from this miracle of geologic dentistry an eleven- year-old boy with dark red hair walked by on his way home from school. Despite the rain, his steps were unhurried and he glanced over at the monolith everyone called Bethany Rock. His brown eyes lit up and his strong jaw broke into a grin. He loved that rock, and he loved this place. He thought of it as the centre of the universe, with the Rock the fulcrum from which its greater power turned and emanated. He stood there for a moment, wrapped in the vibrations of peace and belonging that came to him from that silent sentinel.

He was an imaginative boy, filled with sentimentality for home and a healthy curiosity about the world and its inner workings. He could also be headstrong and jealous, with a strong competitive urge. And like so many of his tribe, he was deeply self absorbed. In essentials, he was all boy. His name was Ron Everson.

The Clingerman Files by Mildred Clingerman

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


As suggested by the title, this collection of Clingerman's short stories has a certain 'X-Files' vibe about it - or maybe it's the Twilight Zone. Many of her stories seem to inhabit that liminal threshold world between the real and the unreal. Yet her characters are almost always seemingly ordinary people - most often middle aged women. A theme that often springs up with these women is that of self realisation. They are often trying to overcome some perceived short coming, whether it's the 'chicken-hearted' Mavis of the Day of the Green Cloak, or the fearful narrator of First Lesson. One of the stories, Gay Deceiver (a sort of update on the old Pied Piper story), had me wondering if Robert Heinlein was once a fan. In one of his later stories he called a time and space travelling craft Gay Deceiver. They're not all strictly science fiction (or fantasy); a number of them, like On the Nicer Side, and The Birthday Party, could only be called mainstream fiction. Yet even there the stories often hinge on the sudden revelation or transitional thought. In Clingerman's world there is magic even in the mundane. Her prose is playful and precise and quite exquisite. It's time for Mildred Clingerman to be rediscovered - if she were ever discovered in the first place!



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Anna Karenina, Vol 1 of 2 by Leo Tolstoy

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


So much has been said about this book, so many reviews, opinions, so I'm just gonna give a brief outline of my response and get out of here. Okay?

I first encountered this book in high school when a teacher, who I respected greatly, enthused about the scene in the book where apparently count Vronsky kisses Anna's open palm in public, creating a thrilling scandal. This image really stuck in my mind, and I looked forward to encountering it in the novel. Well, it's not in the novel! Nearest I can guess, my teacher must have been remembering something from one of the film versions. Memory can play some weird tricks.

I tried reading this a couple of years back, but got so stuck on the dual storylines about Anna and Levin that I abandoned it half way through. Then I took it up again recently and read the two storylines separately (it can be done, you've just got to select carefully). I started with the Levin storyline, since it seemed the most conventional. One of the things I loved was the chapter where he works the fields with his serfs and seems to have an epiphany there (but he's always having epiphanies!). And then (mild spoiler) the second proposal to Kitty scene at a party, where the spoken word is unnecessary - it's all written down on a napkin, and in code! Magic stuff.

Anna's story is something deeper and far more complex, and I think it's the reason why the novel is so celebrated. As she descends into the madness that will claim her in the end, Tolstoy refers to the 'evil spirit' within her, and it's a revealing moment. He keeps a good moral distance for most of the novel, but here I feel he's finally judging her. Discuss! Poor Anna. So tragic, so censured by society. If only she had lived in a later, more 'enlightened' time. The stream of consciousness sections in the latter part of the novel, detailing Anna's tortured thoughts, are amazing and were clearly influential on the Modernists.

The point of view is very wide. Tolstoy 'head hops' all over the place. And I love it. He even gets inside Levin's dog Laska's head at a couple of points. And there's no confusion, everything is quite clear. So all you headhop-haters who can't cope with points of view that jump around a bit might want to avoid this. Yeah, stick with a nice first person narrative, if you need that kind of hand holding...Sorry, this is a pet peeve with me...

Um, that's about it. This took me ages to finish because I kept stopping to read other books in between. But I finally got there, and I'm glad I did. I could crap on about the translations (I read this in two translations in all - one was better than the other) or what a hotty Greta Garbo is in the 1935 film version, etc, but I'll leave it here. It's time to move on.

Tolstoy, you were some kind of writer dude...





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Artifact by Gregory Benford

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


I really loved Benford's books Timescape and Cosm, but this is not one of his better ones. It's more thriller adventure than scifi, and boy does it need some editing! Large chunks of the first half, wherein our main characters Claire and John lug the titled object back to MIT Boston from Greece, could easily be excised without harm. The story and characterisations really border on being racist, American imperialist and sexist too. It's like Benford decided he'd have a go at writing a shitty airport novel in the style of Dan Brown and others of his ilk. But, being Benford, there is actually some good writing here, and of course there's always some very good science too. Read it, like I did, if you're looking for some realistic science detail as research for your own scifi novel. Otherwise, forget it and head straight to Timescape or (especially) Cosm. Both great books.



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My Own Kind of Freedom: A Firefly Novel by Steven Brust

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


It was SO GREAT to be back with these characters after all this time! Brust does such a good job of capturing their voices and thoughts (especially, and most impressively, River) that it really does feel like I'm back in the world of Firefly. My only complaint would be that there could have been a tad more description (so much of the story is rendered as dialogue or thoughts), which I assume had something to do with the novel's origins. But it definitely gives it a consistent style, and I didn't mind the lack of attribution in each segment, because it's quite easy to work out whose point of view is being rendered simply from context and what we know about these characters (not really a book I'd recommend to a Firefly newbie because of this though). And the story's a little bit predictable and standard (ie, another bullying overlord has to be put down), which might have been what hurt its chances at getting a publishing deal. Otherwise, the thing is damn good. I only wish there had been a glossary or something at the back of the book which translated all them Chinese cuss words! Well done, and I'm looking forward to the 'official' books in the series that are apparently coming our way soon.



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Pemberley by Emma Tennant

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


I listened to this as an audio book, since I haven't been able to find a print copy. I believe it was first published and attributed to 'a lady' rather than Emma Tennant, who seemed to have put her hand up a little after that. The audio book was read by Anne Dover, who did a great job of presenting all the characters and narrating the story. She was especially good at the more 'snooty' women, like Lady Catherine de Bourg. As for the story, Tennant does a wonderful job with the comic characters like Mr Collins and Mrs Bennett, including a funny sub-plot involving Mrs Bennett trying to snag a rich old husband for herself after Mr Bennett dies. I have to say though, there's way too much Mrs Bennett here - she must be one of the most annoying characters in all literature. I felt Tennant's version of Elizabeth was a bit muted and uncertain about her role, when I thought she should be more confident. Especially sad is how cowed she gets around some of the more assertive characters from the first novel - especially Bingley's sisters and Catherine de Bourg. But I loved the development for Mary, who gets herself a husband in the form of the heir to Pemberley, the ridiculous Master Roper. The story revolves around Lizzie's apparent failure to get pregnant and her suspicions that Darcy might have fathered a son illegitimately before their marriage. It's fun, but I think there are better sequels out there.



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Andromeda Spaceways magazine, Issue 66 by Wayne Harris

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I only recently discovered this Australia-based science fiction, fantasy and horror emag thanks to Gardner Dozois and the Best New SF publications, where it was mentioned. I checked it out with the intention of possibly submitting a short story, if the format and writing felt sympatico with my own stuff. It did!

I'm reviewing the March 2017 issue, number 66, which I bought mainly because I was attracted to the cover image. Wayne Harris, who edited this issue, did a fine job, including a diverse selection of fantasy, sci-fi and horror stories and poems written in a variety of styles. First off, I liked My Little Kelpie, by Sarina Dorie, because for starters it was written in a style that reminded me of some of my own writing - quite straightforward without too many fancy images. The story itself, featuring a girl called Bridget whose identity crisis is sparked off by the sudden appearance of a Kelpie creature of fairy tale in her life, even reflects the theme of the specific story I plan to submit. That's a promising start!

The Banksia Boys, by Matthew J Morrison, included some vivid descriptions of the Tasmanian outback, and a central image of a banksia tree that is protagonist Henry's 'flying tree'. This image is highlighted by some terrific artwork of the tree done by Aimee Smith. The dialogue is actually quite tough (Henry is bullied by a psychopath) - even the 'c' word gets used - which surprised me. Some elements of the story, especially the
'banksia man' - the seeming spirit of the tree, reminded me of the work of Patricia Wrightson with its focus on elemental indigenous creatures of myth.

I really enjoyed The Spectre In the Wardrobe, by Tony Owens, a humorous ghost story with a very interesting take on the genre. Imagine a HP Lovecraft or Bram Stoker as done by the Monty Python crew and you get the picture. Owens embroiders his basic ghost exorcism story with absurd details that satirize the genre. It features a Marxist-Feminist housekeeper, Mrs Kerchenko, who is the most intelligent person in the story, but the foppish main character, Mr Percival, and indeed even her husband, treat her like a simpleton, requiring only that she fix a good cup of tea whenever needed. It is she who reveals the information that the titular spectre needs an exorcist to find rest - a suggestion that is mispronounced by her husband as 'existentialist'. But Percival takes to this idea, saying, "I see where you're coming from old chap. If we get the spook to question its very existence and the absurdity of the world in which it lives then we can…" And on he goes, until Mrs Kerchenko sets him right again. There are no really laugh out loud moments, but the writing provides a steady stream of quiet chuckles and I liked it very much.

But the best story, in my opinion, was The Missing Years, by Lyn Battersby. In successive scenes, each marked by the prompt 'Breathe', the narrator tells us of how Earth is visited by invading aliens, who require from the people of Earth a terrible sacrifice for their continued survival. This leads to a climax where the narrator's unexpected pregnancy could put the life of her own child in jeopardy - and makes clear the meaning of the Breathe prompt. The final and hopeful prompt is 'Push'. The story is in equal parts shocking and moving, and beautifully written.

There are also some book reviews at the end, together with notes on contributors and acknowledgements. Overall, I'd say the magazine does a great job. I believe it's been going for over ten years and is well worth a look.




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Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This is a simple story of a person (whose gender is never determined - though I imagined a woman) who has a deep love affair with Louise, a married woman, who contracts cancer. But most of all it's a reverie of love, devotion and obsession, with language that is poetic and eccentric and - I have to say it - rapturous. I fairly swooned through some of this. The last section, which sees the protagonist come to some kind of terms with the situation, is beautiful. There's a scene in a cemetery that I particularly admire. This book is so not my usual reading, but Winterson's gifts for language conjure new possibilities that inspire me.



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Hidden Gold by Steve Frazee

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I actually listened to the audio book version as read by Jeff Harding. I really enjoyed this western detective yarn. Brock Sergeant is out to find the murderer of his friend, Pat Valpondo, and the whereabouts of a stolen shipment of gold. Getting there requires quite a bit of detective work and reading the character and motivations of the men (and some women) he encounters in the town of Weston, Colorado. Wonderfully descriptive, with a really authentic and expressive reading from Harding. His repertoire of voices for the different characters are spot on (I particularly liked his reading of the Mexican, Benny Piazz). My only complaint would be his voice for the female characters was overly mannered, and made them sound a bit petulant. The story got quite convoluted towards the end and I had trouble keeping track of what was what (especially since I listened to the entire recording while driving - sometimes in heavy traffic!). It reminded me of a cross between Raymond Chandler and Louis L'amour. Some nice hard-bitten red-eyed imagery, and a good read (or listen) for all would-be buckaroos. I definitely want more.



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