Dear Writers

Why do you write? For self-expression? To exercise your imagination? Because it’s therapeutic? Or just because you have to? I’ve often struggled with this question. Depending on the day, my answer can be very different. 

Author’s Promoter website decided to take on this age-old question and just published an interesting survey that asks one hundred writers why they do it. The results are kind of fun and worth checking out.

The following wonderful mini poem, “Dear Reader,” by Elliot Figman, from his book Big Spring, kind of says it all for many of us:

Dear Reader

It’s you
I’ve been waiting for

Nicky’s Book of the Month for April 2013 – Thunder Road

Chadwick Ginther’s Thunder Road is an urban fantasy complete with Norse gods, battles with giants and trolls and dwarves and sea creatures, magic gone awry (and occasionally aright), while all the characters are in hot pursuit of the severed head of Mimir — reciter of secret knowledge and ancient wisdom. Did I mention the talking tattoos Huginn and Muninn? Sound crazy? Well, there’s plenty more where that come from, so buckle up.

Our main character, Ted, is a bit of a loner, a cynical, down-on-his-luck ex-football-player jock looking to start over after surviving a broken marriage and an explosion at a plant in the oil sands of Alberta. He’s shaken by the horrific accident and what he sees stepping out of the fire there — a gigantic creature that looks like the devil himself. So he hops in his beloved old 1968 GTO and heads off for a new start in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

When Ted picks up a hitchhiker, a beautiful young woman named Tilda, his luck takes a turn. Whether it’s for better or worse is an intriguing question that Ted and the reader will grapple with throughout the novel. Tilda reads his fortune in her runes and tells him, ominously, that he will either “live the life of a hero or a prince,” or “come to an abrupt and ugly end.” Ted has no intention of taking her seriously, but he certainly should, as we find out soon enough.

Later that night, Ted is subdued by dwarves who tattoo his entire body with Norse imagery. He’s surprised to find himself alive the next morning after being shackled and cut and inked, after the horrible pain and suffering he endured. Only then does he begin to realize the kind of magic that the dwarves etched upon his hide; he’s been given the power of Thor the Thunder God and the mark of the Nine Worlds, a mystical realm (a place that’s both here in our world and not here at the same time) where Norse mythology is alive and well.

At first Ted just wants to rid himself of the magic that the dwarves have forced upon him and get his old life back. But he soon discovers that this won’t be a simple task. Tilda, as it turns out, comes from a family of fortune tellers who seem to know quite a bit more about what happened to him and why. They meet with Ted and convince him that if he can capture the much sought-after head of Mimir, the severed noggin of Odin’s once sage counselor, he may win his freedom. But at what cost?

In the great tradition of epic fantasy, Chadwick gives his readers a true quest novel. Ted sets out on the road with a grumbly band of malcontents, including the beautiful Tilda and his untrustworthy brother Loki (Thor’s brother, actually), the trickster, the God of Lies in Norse mythology. Tilda and Loki loathe each other, Ted is eternally grumpy, but off they all go, evading cops, brawling with giants, wrestling with magic, in search of the severed head that has the power to end the world.

The story is set in modern-day Manitoba and other rural parts of Canada — rocky, woodsy places with sprawling lakes where mythological creatures roam unseen by human eyes. Not the sorts of places you’d expect to find Norse gods fighting out their ancient grudges and settling old scores, but this is part of what makes the book so interesting and fun. Magic is right here in front of us lowly humans; we just don’t know it.

This book is a must read for fans of Norse mythology (and the Thor comics of my youth), but even if you have no foundation in either, you’ll pick up all you need to know along the way. Chadwick makes it look easy, expertly parsing out the mythology so that the reader isn’t overwhelmed.

Ted is a kind of modern-day Conan the Barbarian, a reluctant hero with anger management issues and an overzealous sex drive, who is forced time and again to pursue the course of lesser evil in hopes of stumbling across a way out of his predicament. As one bad thing leads to another, we get the feeling that Ted can’t possibly win. And yet we don’t want to believe it.

If all this sounds like a rip-roaring good time, well, heck, yes, it is. The author has a real instinct for rough-and-tumble action, gritty details, and unexpected plot twists. Reading this book is a lot like riding a rollercoaster. Once you hop on, you have no choice but enjoy the ride. Highly recommended.

Of further interest…

Visit Chadwick Ginther online.

Thunder Road was shortlisted for Prix Aurora Award for Best Novel.

Zen thought for April 2013…

“There should be a balance between material and spiritual progress, a balance achieved through the principles based on love and compassion. Love and compassion are the essence of all religion. All religions can learn from each other; the ultimate goal of all religion is to produce better human beings. Better human beings would be more tolerant, more compassionate, and less selfish.” — the Dalai Lama

Chadwick Ginther signing Thunder Road

Galaxy’s Edge Issue One

I am happy to announce that Galaxy’s Edge published my short story “Creator of the Cosmos Job Interview Today” in their March 2013 premier issue.

Other authors include Kij Johnson, Jack McDevitt, and my good pals James Patrick Kelly and Robert J. Sawyer.

Galaxy’s Edge is a simultaneous e-zine and print magazine, edited by Mike Resnick, publishing a lively combination of reprints and original stories. If you go online, you can read the content for free, and you’ll find instructions on how to order the paper edition.

Check it out and enjoy!

On Staying Home Sick from AWP

On Staying Home Sick from AWP.

I Am Mr. Baxter!

Mr. Baxter’s Story

I am happy to announce that Animal Literary Magazine published my short story “I Am Mr. Baxter” yesterday. If you aren’t familiar with the magazine, check it out when you get a chance—it’s eccentric, eclectic, and a whole lotta fun.

My dear friend Mr. Baxter has promised not to let the publication of his story go to his little noggin. He remains an ever humble and lovable cat.

(Click on Mr. Baxter’s nose for a direct link to the story.)

Nicky’s Book of the Month for February 2013 – Husk

As novels go, Husk by Corey Redekop is about as crazy a ride as I’ve seen in a long time. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a zombie? I mean really thought about the physiology of it? The daily grind? Corey spares no detail when it comes to the disgusting physical aspects of zombie-hood, what it looks and smells and tastes and feels like, including trying to breathe with dead lungs, eating and crapping and keeping your skin from falling off and your body from deteriorating, and how to get the color back into your complexion so people don’t think you’re, well, dead.

Corey’s main character (or husk), Sheldon Funk, becomes a kind of “viral” zombie through no particular fault of his own when he dies with his pants down in the bathroom of a commuter bus. He wakes up shocked and confused during his own autopsy, attacks the coroners, and manages to escape the morgue, but he escapes little else after that. Sheldon spends the rest of the novel trying to figure out how to deal with what has happened to him, live in a world surrounded by human flesh (food), and just get by day-to-day as a struggling gay actor with an aging mother slipping into dementia.

This is a grisly novel from the get-go, not for the faint of heart. In the first chapter, when Sheldon wakes up in the morgue after being dead for a while, as the coroners are carving him up and splaying him open, we get this lovely passage: “I watched my intestines unreel themselves and drape the body in glop. My spleen drooped over the edge of the incision, trying to permanently depart my corpse and fulfill its organ donor obligations. One kidney made a break for it; there was a mildly pleasurable irritation as it stretched its tether, like picking a scab, before it snapped and flew free. It bounced off the man’s chest and slid quickly to a stop near Craig’s head. My spleen tugged at its imprisoning ligaments, and I enjoyed the unpleasant sensation of being torn in pieces from the inside out.”

This is fairly mild stuff compared to what’s coming. But the language of death in all its fundamental ugliness is both ever-present and a very important part of the book. In many ways, Sheldon becomes alive–fully aware of himself and his body and his needs–only after he’s dead.

Notwithstanding the author’s love affair with viscera, this is a fun book. There is deadpan humor and social satire aplenty. The plot is tense and fast-paced with unexpected twists and turns, especially in the second half of the novel after the zombie’s secret is revealed to the public and his acting career takes off. The awkward relationships Sheldon establishes with others and the poignant family moments are dripping with blood and irony.

It’s easy to get lost in the nuttiness of the story, but you might also want to take a moment to enjoy the underpinnings Corey has worked so hard to lay down. He has written a good old-fashioned lampoon–a rare and wonderful treat in this day and age of banal category glorification–ridiculing at point-blank range the human stain. This is a novel about loneliness, detachment, and human cadavers walking among us. Behind all the comedy bits and violence and gore, Corey slyly dares us to think about the rot we call life and what makes us human. Highly recommended.

Of further interest…

Check out Corey’s website. 

Zen thought for February 2013…

Okay, Friedrich Nietzsche may be a bit of a stretch for a Zen thought, but considering the book of the month, I couldn’t resist this quote from the great German philosopher. I’m sure Corey would appreciate it: “The certain prospect of death could sweeten every life with a precious and fragrant drop of levity–and now you strange apothecary souls have turned it into an ill-tasting drop of poison that makes the whole of life repulsive.”

Nicky’s Novel-Into-Film for January 2013: One Shot and Jack Reacher

One Shot
Jack Reacher, the movie, is based on Lee Child’s novel One Shot, the ninth book of eighteen (to date) in the Reacher series. The book opens with what appears to be a random sniper attack in Indiana: eight shots, six people dead. There is plenty of evidence at the scene of the crime, and the local police move quickly to track down the shooter. But that’s all too easy for a Lee Child plot. When Jack Reacher begins investigating, the case slowly starts to unravel, and it’s not as open and shut as it first appears. There is only one shot out of the eight that matters to the real killer (not the guy jacked for the crime, of course), and as soon as Reacher figures it out, he and the young, pretty DA he’s working with become targets themselves as the real killer tries to cover his tracks.

For those who enjoy high action, fast-paced thrillers, and a cool disdain for injustice (moral ambiguity welcome) check out the Jack Reacher series. It’s okay to begin with One Shot and see the movie; it’s a fun way to get introduced to the series. You don’t have to read the novels in order of publication. Jump in anywhere, and you’re in for a wild ride. Don’t expect literary greatness. You won’t find it. Child is a plot man all the way. His writing is uncluttered and direct. His prose works for a living. But he knows how to write riveting scenes and keep a reader’s head in the game. Highly recommended.

Jack Reacher, Vigilante
Because I’m a big fan of the Reacher books, I absolutely had to see the first movie, Jack Reacher, dedicated to this larger-than-life ex-army military cop — a giant among men, the quintessential vigilante of our generation. It’s a Tom Cruise production, so naturally Cruise is the star. I was ready to be disappointed because TC is 1) a clear miscast physically to the 6′ 5″, 250 pound Reacher, 2) I was afraid he’d overplay the role and come off too arrogantly, and 3) well, how do you ignore the Scientology crap? I’m happy to report that I could put aside number 3 for a couple of hours rather easily, concede the size issue (this was a little harder to get past), and even give TC some credit for showing restraint in the role and playing it true to the spirit of the character.

That said, I’m happy to endorse the film for fans and for those unfamiliar with the books who want an easy entry point into the Reacher universe. The movie, very true to its source material,  is off and running from scene one with the sniper attack, and then the intrigue of the investigation takes over, and the tension mounts, and before you know it, you’re hooked. One of the things I love about the movie (and the books too) is that there are plenty of good old-fashioned fist fights, and not every action scene is a ridiculously violent-gross-out exercise in blood and guts. The film is as gripping as the novel. Highly recommended.

Of further interest…

Check out this excellent and detailed review of the Jack Reacher film from The Guardian, which, among other interesting observations, reveals Lee Child’s true identity.

FYI, look for Lee Child’s brief appearance in the film as the desk sergeant.

Zen thought for January 2013…

Having just returned from a long visit to Winnipeg, Canada, during the coldest time of the year there, I offer this Haiku by Buson, which reminds me of a night I stood looking out the window at the moon and the frozen snow:

Miles of frost—
on the lake
the moon’s my own