January 2011

SF/F Commentary

New Poll: If you had super powers, how would you use them?

The new poll can be found on the left (third widget down).  It is divided into the following fun categories: For good! For neutral purposes! For evil! Detailed answers are much appreciated, of course, but since polls make it hard to do that, I decided to test your morality (in the poll) and give you an open comment thread (on this post) to discuss the correct use of super powers (in detail).  Have at it, folks! As for me:  neutral all the way.  Why?  Because I definitely wouldn’t save everyone.  Say what you will, but that’s how I roll.

SF/F Commentary

Poll Results: Do you think SF/F is going to have a good year in 2011?

The results are in (obviously), and they are overwhelmingly optimistic.  Is that a good thing?  I sure hope so.  It’s early in the year, but I’d like to think that 2011 will be a year without someone proclaiming the genre dead (or something like that).  We’ll see how those thoughts pan out in six months. Here are the results of the poll: 55% said “yes” 22.5% said “maybe” 22.5% said “no” The no votes came pretty late in the poll (well after the corresponding post had disappeared from the homepage), so the big question I have for those individuals is this:  why do you think SF/F isn’t going to have a good year in 2011?   I’m defining SF/F beyond its marketing boundaries (the SF/F shelves in your bookstores); for me, then, I see the genre as having a great deal of room to keep pushing outward in very powerful/interesting ways.  I’m hoping we’ll see more experimentation in SF/F novels, but I am also cautious about the genres because it’s really easy to get burned by hype.  We do have some excellent works of literature coming out, though (or what appear to be excellent works).  We’ll wait and see. Anywho! A new poll will be up later today, so look out for the post announcement.

SF/F Commentary

New Weird and Scifi Strange: Part Three — The Existence of Unsure Things

(Read Part One and Part Two) III.  The Strange is Coming? When I initially began work on the series of which this is a part, I had always intended to end with a post about Scifi Strange.  I thought I would write a long, definition-based post about Scifi Strange and its problems.  But then it occurred to me that I’ve technically already done the definition thing elsewhere–i.e., for a conference.  Why rewrite the same basic information if you can simply update the language and add little bits where necessary?  With that in mind, below is an updated version of the Scifi Strange piece of a paper I wrote and presented in the Summer of 2010 (for a conference in England): Whether Scifi Strange is actually a new movement or subgenre is probably not apparent at the present moment. The problem with Scifi Strange as I see it is that Sanford has attempted too much of a catch-all with his definition, throwing in all manner of science fiction stories that, while certainly strange, have very little in common beyond their basic strangeness–a feature that can be said about most genre fiction.  But there are exceptions, such as a number of Sanford’s stories and the works of authors like Ted Chiang and Kij Johnson. And what those stories are doing is absolutely a development that is very unusual, somewhat experimental, and an extension or response to New Weird, whether intentional or otherwise. While New Weird places heavy focus on urban spaces with defined contours, familiar locations, and so on, many of the stories that I would label as Scifi Strange detail locations that are spatially disconnected. By this, I mean that the locations are often not named, given little context within the human spectrum of space exploration, and generally seem to exist in a bizarre vacuum that culturally separates the inhabitants from other species—usually humans—but doesn’t place the inhabitants in a local vacuum, which would make the environments alien to them. These spaces are detailed in similar fashion as what might be found in New Weird texts, though understandably less so due to the short form. As a prime example of this, we can look at Jason Sanford’s “The Ships Like Clouds, Risen By Their Rain” and Ted Chiang’s “Exhalation.” Both stories occur on other planets, contain alien ecologies (to us, but not to the characters), and faint (or absent) implications for the existence of Earth exists.  Earth is not relevant to the stories, nor is the fact that humanity has moved to the stars; we, just like the characters, are disconnected from familiar locations. Sanford’s story takes place on a strange world of mud inhabited by humans who have lived there for centuries.  It is a world where ships in the shape of clouds appear and fly across the planet, often pouring rain on the human settlements on the planet, resulting in floods, which, in turn, require the residents to build upwards into the sky, continuously, else they be buried alive in the mud. Chiang’s story is told as a written historical account of the final days of the last sentient machine on a planet closed off from the universe by a massive metal sphere, within which they have discovered that the air pressure is equalizing, leading to the eventual cessation of brain activity for the humanoid beings that live there. Both stories lack the coordinates readers need to orient ourselves within their universes and privilege the “alien” spaces over the familiar space of Earth, and Earth itself (as we know or might recognize it) is marked by near-total absence. At best, we have human characters to identify with, but the cognitive dissonance of Scifi Strange is in the displacement of character and audience from familiarity, leaving no place to hold on to.  They are utterly alien experiences. This is the function of Scifi Strange and the authors who write it (assuming it actually exists). But because Scifi Strange is a new development, it’s impossible to know whether this will develop into something centralizes–even partially–in the same why that New Weird seemed to be when it first began to gain attention in the early 2000s. If it does, and it can be identified, I suspect Scifi Strange will continue to embody the spatial disconnection that makes the works of Ted Chiang and Jason Sanford fascinating.  Perhaps in another few years, there will be nothing more than a handful more stories with similar narrative themes, or, if we’re lucky, we’ll see Scifi Strange become a “real” subgenre.  Then again, some people hate new subgenres more than they do the genre they claim to love.  Maybe a Scifi Strange hate-fest will do it some good.  Science fiction seems to be doing just fine considering it’s been “dead” for decades… Some other reading on Scifi Strange: Response to Jeff VanderMeer on Scifi Strange by Jason Sanford The Online Scifi Strange Anthology by Jason Sanford The Noticing of My Noticing of Scifi Strange (a collection of links) by Jason Sanford Podcast Interview w/ Jason Sanford And there you go.  Feel free to lob your complaints in the comments! P.S.:  I may have more to say about this, but I think leaving this post as is will be a good start to a discussion. Your comments might inspire me to throw out a few more things.

SF/F Commentary

Movie Review: Tron: Legacy (Strange Horizons)

In case you missed it, the fine folks at Strange Horizons have published my review of Tron: Legacy.  The review is focused on the worldbuilding, rather than the general quality of the film.  Hopefully you all find it interesting.  Do leave a comment there! You also might want to see my brief, general review of Tron: Legacy here (where I put my score of the film, which isn’t in my review at Strange Horizons). Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go jump up and down with excitement for an hour. P.S.:  I don’t suspect you could have missed my review, since it went up today.  But it’s fun to say “in case you missed it.”

SF/F Commentary

All Your Literature Are Belong to Us: Interpretation/Reception and Ownership

I’ve become interested in the last few months with the idea of intellectual ownership of written materials.  In part this is because of the ways some fiction authors (and others) have responded to criticism and interpretation in the last few years elsewhere and on this blog.  Setting aside instances where someone intentionally spams a book’s page with negative reviews, it seems to me that for some authors there is a critical disconnect between the act of creation and the life as the creator.  That is that these individuals believe they have ownership over interpretation after the moment it leaves their hands and becomes a publicly accessible (purchasable) object.  As a writer, I can understand the impulse to want to avoid negative criticism and even to say “I am not X,” but responding to criticism or interpretations is not usually a skill writers have learned how to do (or that they can learn how to do without stepping on toes).  They become “problems.” I think it’s important for fiction authors–published or otherwise–to understand that they don’t own interpretation of their work.  What happens to your novels or short stories after the public has access to it is simply beyond an author’s control.  The public will read subgenres and “messages” or “themes” into a work, and they will do so without consideration of the author’s intent (often because intent is difficult to know, even if it is declared).  Some may even write that they hate someone’s work, and might do so in ways that authors normally wouldn’t (perhaps because we understand as writers what other writers hope for in negative reviews:  constructive criticism). There’s very little an author can do about these interpretations and receptions (unless an unethical activity has occurred, obviously).  In most cases, authors shouldn’t try to do anything about these things.  They should leave it alone.  Why?  Because we’ve learned that authors often turn into jackasses when they respond to criticism or interpretations.  They go on the attack, telling critics (amateurs or professionals) how wrong they are.  Sometimes they tell these critics that they are idiots, and in rare occurrences, they send their fans on a rampage against the offending person.  None of these things are good for an author’s career, unless they’ve built that career on controversy. But there’s also the underlying assumption in these moments that there is such a thing as a correct interpretation or reception.  The problem in such an assumption is that it limits (or tries to limit) how readers relate to a text.  To tell them that a text is not “science fiction” or “New Weird” (or that their criticism is misguided) is to tell them that their experience is wrong and, in part, not as valuable.  It neuters the reader’s experience (or can), and neutering readers is like blasting one’s bone-marrow with radiation:  an author might get what they want out of it (i.e., the correct “reading”), but they’ve still done so by smashing the readers (cells) that fed the author’s popularity (blood). The fact of the matter is:  you do not own interpretation or reception, particularly when such ownership flies in the face of reason(ability).  Your work is not “yours” once it hits the reader-stream.  Trying to control readers is both futile and bad news.  Putting that in your head when you begin writing is for the best, because it sets in motion the will to avoid response to criticism and to interpretation, and the subsequent jackass moments such responses often create.  This is not to suggest that there are no purely wrong interpretations/receptions.  To call a book “fantasy” when it is clearly a non-fiction book is a complete failure of a reader to understand genre.  But readers can take care of that, and often do (even on Amazon).  It’s okay to let things go and acknowledge that your control ends when a reader reads a work. ———————————————— It occurs to me that all of the above is complicated by writers who are also critics (both pathways are nearly inseparable).  But I’ll save that for another time, I suppose. What do you think about all of this?  Let me know in the comments.

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