Diving into the Wreck, by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Thursday, reading for writing post, and I find I’m torn and distracted. Another review book arrived over the weekend, but I’d already started Diving into the Wreck and I tried to put it aside, but it’s too compelling and the review book is, well, less-so. My compromise at the moment is 50-50, so I’m progressing through both slowly, brakes on for Wreck, pushing through the other (which is by an established, prize-winning, well-regarded literary writer, but a bit too conceptual).

So I’m still only halfway into Diving into the Wreck, but it’s too clever and well-constructed already so I just have to blog about it. It does have an intriguing structural element that I’m not sure will resolve – the first third feels like a separate adventure to the next part. Certainly it is setting up what is to come, and did leave me wanting more, but the ideas and characters are engaging, intriguing and deftly handled.

Rusch’s reputation in the field is huge, and, yay, she has sold a new book in the same universe, which should be out next year.

Friday update: okay, can’t stop reading this – really this just cements advice that you shouldn’t try to read two books at once, alternating is too confusing. I finished part two, and of course, consummate novelist that she is, it does link back to part one, much better than I’d expected.

Saturday update: well, I’m nearly finished Wreck and it does make sense. Sure the structure felt odd (and I’m sure would still even if I hadn’t been tried multi-booking), but it fits and fits well. I’ll probably finish it tonight, then return to the review book. I like deadlines (gotta have this review in by May 5th), but perhaps get a little hung up on them – there’s plenty of time to finish Wreck, read the other and write the review. I’ve already been researching the author (which is fine, non-fiction biography is a different kind of reading) and have drafted some of what I’ll write in the review anyway.

Sunday update: okay finished now, it all makes sense, it all works well, actually better than I had expected and it’s great: I really have to recommend this book. Now, on with the review.

Suspension

In a brief moment I had to spare (well 98 minutes), I watched Suspension, an indie film with a cool concept – that time can be stopped by an individual, and the world manipulated while the rest of us are in suspension. It was hard to identify with the main character, sure he’d lost his family in a wreck, but he became creepy and scary. It was cool, plotwise, to think that there were alternatives the writers could have taken, but didn’t – not that it’s bad, just at times it didn’t quite gel for me. The end, though, brought it home well. I think it’s cool to see low-budget indie films like this from time to time since the hollywoodmachinery hasn’t cloyed it into romcom banality. And, surprisingly, the production values were excellent – those moments of stopped time kept me wondering “how did they do that?”: enough that I watched “the making of” (oops, so that’s more than 98 minutes of my life gone).

Michael Tanner – Selection

Fluid Radio is hosting a four track, forty-five minute mix of some of Michael Tanner’s fairly unreleased tracks. I didn’t really know Tanner’s work before this – there’s plenty of information about his bands and musical history at the Fluid Radio site there. What I enjoy about the selection is how unhurried it is, slow delicate builds of guitar and piano over some lovely soundscape washes – absolutely fantastic to write too: so moody and haunting.

Each of the tracks is already a mix of other tracks, so it’s intriguing:
1. A Pelagic Recital – Dawn reflects in the East
2. Bridegroom of Snow – Solicitude
3. Summerhouse – The rest I leave to the poor
4. Gloaming – Sirens

Weekend bliss … new writing, new music

After months of working to get the novel complete, then the swag of tutoring, it’s been busy and hectic. I’ve written a few short stories, and edited others, but have often felt rushed or fragmented, especially with trying to make deadlines for contests of anthology closings. Yesterday, Sunday, I had a great open block of time and wrote a new story and it really felt like breathing again – to write a piece from start to finish without interruption, without having to refocus or shift gears. Certainly it will take some reworking, some rewriting and revision and polishing, but this is why I write anyway: that sheer thrill of creating a new world, creating characters I can feel moved by. I have some other pieces to edit this week, and another book review, and study for the next round of tutoring, but it’s nice to have my head above water. I even found time to tinker with a new piece of music – my April piece is about ready to go, so I’m looking at May for this new one.

I enjoyed this flash story, just out on Microhorror: Ag/Pb by Stone Franks. A bit graphic, but a nice idea (I do like the title)

Choose Your Own Adventure- The Mendigans (Furnace Burnout, by Sean Monaghan)

Barry J Northern began this exploding inter-blog Choose Your Own Adventure story – if you haven’t been reading so far: start HERE. [If you want to get to here from the beginning, pick option #1 Stand up and scream the earth has been invaded (Jodi MacArthur’s Pickledeath) and then after reading that pick Jodi’s option #1 Sneak into the secretary’s office … (Tim Keeton’s The Janitor’s Closet).]

Furnace Burnout is then option one from Tim’s section. 1) the Janitor, Mr. Berman, grabbed them both and said, “You kids are in terrible danger. Come with me if you want to live.”

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Furnace Burnout

Berman pounded along the corridor with Latoya and Michael darting after him. The Mendigans jostled, slithering, but not fast enough. Berman stopped at the utility room door and kicked it open. He leapt down the steps to the greasy concrete floor.

Latoya and Michael hesitated, looking into the dark, dank room. The moist sound of tentacles drew closer

“Get in, get in,” Berman yelled. “Criminy, are you lunatics? Get in here.” His eyes glowed from the corridor fluorescents.

Latoya huffed. “Our day is just filled with choices.”

They went down the steps and Berman slammed the door shut. He turned on the dim main light, then latched the door and put a padlock through a clasp. Michael wondered why the utility room needed an inside lock.

“Come on, come on,” Berman said. “Don’t stand there gawping. Help me with this stuff. We don’t have long.”

He took a flashlight from a shelf and shone it around the room. There were chains and tools and jerry cans, but the school furnace dominated the space.

“I wasn’t expecting this so soon,” Berman said. “I’m not quite ready.”

The furnace was a rusted steel cylinder, ten feet high and fifteen feet long. The heavy riveted end cap had two grated stoking doors. Pipes led upwards, bending at the dark ceiling then diverging, carrying heat around the building. A seat was welded high on the side of the furnace and Berman climbed up.

“What are you doing?” Latoya said.

Something wet slapped the locked door.

“Come on,” Berman said. “You need to plug in the cables.” Sitting now, he wound a handle. Cogs and gears bolted to the side of the furnace clanked and clicked. Something inside the furnace began to whir.

There was another sound from the corridor. Then something hit the door hard enough to make it shake. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.

“Connect it,” Berman yelled. “Now.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael said.

Berman stopped winding and sighed. “Help me turn this on. Plug it in at the back wall.”

The Mendigans pounded the door. A steady moist rhythm. They chanted something too.

“Anytime you like,” Berman said. He went back to his crank.

“What do we do?” Michael said

“The way I see it, we’ve got a choice,” Latoya said. “Either we help him, insane as he seems. Or we make a break for it.”

“I,” Michael said, “am getting sorely sick of making choices today, why can’t we-”

“Will you freaking kids plug it in!”

“Choice made,” Latoya said.

The door shuddered again.

Michael and Latoya down. The furnace was different at this end. Even in the dim light they saw that the steel was polished. Two thick cables with industrial-sized black electrical plugs lay on the floor. A glowing copper and glass machine hummed in an alcove beyond.

The door shuddered and cracked. The main light popped and went out. Berman dropped his flashlight. The light rolled, vanishing under the furnace. The only light came from the coils around the glass machine.

“Hurry,” Berman yelled.

“We can’t see.”

Another smack and they heard the door burst open.

“Just feel your way,” Berman said. “Get the plugs”

Berman wound the handle furiously and the whirring sound from inside kept increasing. But over that sound, from the dark doorway, Michael could hear the slippery squelching of the Mendigans.

Michael found a plug. He fumbled with it.

“This will go badly,” Berman yelled, “Unless you activate the machine.”

Michael dragged a plug out and jammed it into the jackpoint he’d seen on the coiled machine. As the plug connected the machine chuffed.

Michael could sense the Mendigans closing. In the dim light he could see their waving tentacles. Their tarry, fishy smell wafted over him.

“Get away, get away,” Berman yelled. They heard squishy sounds as Berman kicked the aliens.

Latoya got the other plug in. The machine shuddered.

“It’s done Mr Berman.”

“Great that’s – will you get away – excellent. Stand back.”

Berman banged the handles. The furnace clanged and chugged. It began angling upwards. Pipes broke away, spewing steam. Slots opened in the furnace’s exterior and blue and gold light shone through. The Mendigans raised their tentacles, cowering.

“Aha,” Berman laughed. “Finally I can put my death ray to the test.”

The back of the furnace slid open. A serrated and scalloped cone terminating in a shining blue ball wound out. Lightning arced from the ball. The whole machine began to turn. The Mendigans screamed. Michael could see a clear path to the door.
___________________________________________________

What should Michael and Latoya do?

1) stick with Berman and see what happens with his death ray.

2) assume Berman is as dangerous as the Mendigans and make for the door.

Let Barry or me know if you want to write a continuation from one of these options.

Engine of Recall by Karl Schroeder

I am a confessed Kar Schroeder fan. His Virga sequence is remarkable – absolutely the kind of retro, yet hyper-advanced concept I love to become immersed in. Engine of Recall is a collection of his short stories from across his career. The worlds Schroeder creates are amazing – ships jousting at near-light-speed, artifacts orbitting pulsars, and so on. I’ve read the first three Virga books, and am looking forward to reading the fourth, and then reading more of his back catalogue.

First round of tutoring complete

This is just a general “what’s up” post. If I understood Facebook, I’d probably post this there.

I mailed back the student portfolios yesterday, so, barring something showing up unexpectedly, I now have a few weeks to study up and prepare for the next portfolio, and to work on some stories and other writing.

The novel – The Rotated is complete and I have submitted that to the editor. I have another YA novel I wrote a while back but had put aside. So, with more confidence having completed the adult novel, I’ll be coming back to that – Octane (working title) – for rewrites and revisions.

I’ve had two story rejections and one poetry acceptance in the last few days. It has been nice to have had some stories published recently – quite a cluster really – and have the poetry contest placing, but rejections still feel huge and hard. I do seem to get more acceptances these days, but still the rejections feel a bit off-putting. Questions come up like “What’s wrong with my story?” when really it’s just that that particular editor is perhaps looking for something different, or the style didn’t quite gel (or maybe that there is something wrong, but hey). So, those stories will continue to circulate until they find the right editor or so much time passes that I will look over them and wonder what I was thinking to write such schlock.

S.E.T.I. – The Geometry of Night

There are two ambient acts called S.E.T.I. – both, as I understand it, take their name from the original S.E.T.I. Institute, as in Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. Websites such as Wikipedia or allmusic seem to confuse the two and lump their releases/activities together.

One S.E.T.I. is made up of Taylor Deupree and Savas Ysatas, and they released several albums. While the two artists still collaborate, they no longer use the S.E.T.I. moniker.

The other S.E.T.I. is Andrew Lagowski, who uses other names (his own, Legion) as well as S.E.T.I., and still does perform/record as S.E.T.I. – he’s performing on May 24th at a festival in Germany.

The Geometry of Night by the Lagowski S.E.T.I. has had a lot written about it – just search the web, far more than I can do justice to or need to duplicate here. It has been around for a while – first released in 1996, but still available. The music is complex and often quite rhythm driven, though never really danceable. The rhythms drive the mood. The bass lines, the melodies, the choirs, the strings: it all swells together into something dark and brooding, though somehow uplifting. While I only listen to the album as a whole – it builds and swirls and demands this kind of extended listening – my favourite track is Mare Crisium: five minutes of sound development before any beat kicks in. This is precise and finely crafted music. Writing to this is energising and vital and gives a real vibrancy to my words.

You can stream the music from last.fm, or better yet, stream or purchase the download from bandcamp

Time of Death – flash fiction in Alien Skin

My conceptual sci-fi/horror story “Time of Death” has just been published in the April/May issue of Alien Skin Magazine. This has some pretty bleak humour to it, so is both fun and sad. Alien Skin does not archive – so this story is only available during April and May this year. After that the link above will go to another story (in the June/July issue, the August/September and so on), so get in now and read it quick.

New Shoes, Old Eyes – poem gets 3rd place in local contest

My poem submitted for the Urban Care – Poetry on Palmy contest has come third equal and, yay, there’s a prize-giving this afternoon. It’s great to get a place, but also neat to have something in the real world – so much of my writing now is here on your screen: I’ll be mixing with real people today. The competition was to write a poem about our hometown Palmerston North (New Zealand). The poem will probably be published at some point, but here are the first few lines:

New Shoes, Old Eyes

Returning to your frigid grid
Of fragile kerbs
And surly kids
Where turbined hills
spill spun white glass

If you’re in Palmy and happen to read this beforehand, the prize-giving is at 4pm at Square Edge.