The Fantastic is in the Genes

If you trace back through time you can see through every generation and era the presence of the fantastic. By fantastic, I mean anything that could be construed as fitting into science fiction, fantasy, magical realism, fairy tale, myth, religion, and any other such genres or subgenres in which something we know is not entirely true occurs. The fantastic is somewhat like a virus in that it worms its way into everything and evolves to fit into new shapes so that it may survive in some sort of dominant mode. So, when I say fantastic, I am using a liberal definition of the term, much as literary theorists have, in some respects. The fact that the fantastic has survived through generations and eras, despite a monumental effort to suppress certain forms of it, is astonishing, and leads me to conclude that there must be something in us, something wired into our DNA, that makes mankind susceptible to the whims of the fantastic (we’ll call it fanty from now on, just so it can have a cute name like SF does–i.e. sciffy–and if you’re really clever you’ll catch the Firefly/Serenity reference). We know this from history: the fantastic is woven into us more finely than a nano-fiber coat (if such a thing exists). The cavemen and other early cultures had some idea what it was, and drew it and exchanged stories about it without realizing that was what they were doing. Numerous religions were founded on the very prospect of the fantastic too, and one cannot deny the relation all religious share to one another, even those religions in existence today. So much of our existence is founded in principles of fantastic discourse as figured through all mediums (fine art, writing, spoken word, etc.). So, is it any wonder that fantasy, as a genre, is doing so well, or that science fiction film (and even fantasy film, for the most part) have such a strong hold on the visual market? The fact that young adults and children gobble this stuff up like so much candy is testament to our human desire for the fantastic; as adults, we may shed some of the “silly” aspects of our youth, but there is always that thread (of course, some of us never grow up, and that thread is still wrapped around us as a coat). Now, the question is: is it possible to cut ourselves off from the fantastic (assuming we wanted to), and if we did, what would the consequences of that be? Would we lose a part of our souls, or would it be like losing a toe (no big deal at all)?

Science Fiction’s Not Dead, Fantasy is in the Golden Age

People are talking about the death of science fiction again. It’s not actually dead, far from it, but as soon as someone says “it’s dead” someone else goes crazy (either because they believe SF has long been dead or because they’re tired of hearing the argument). Apparently the genre has a few dozen lives and manages to die and be resurrected ten or so times a year. The End of the Universe said science fiction has nine lives, but I think that’s too conservative of an estimate. It’s died at least that many times in this year alone… The problem with science fiction isn’t that it’s dead. To be fair to the genre, it’s never actually died, but it has been overshadowed to varying degrees in history. Even in its supposed “Golden Age” science fiction was not exactly as popular people seem to remember. Yes, it was popular, but science fiction never had the popularity of mainstream pop-fiction. That’s not to say it was irrelevant or that no science fiction books sold well enough to make it to the bestseller’s list; quite a few actually did, but in comparison to traditionally larger genres (romance and quasi-mysteries), it really didn’t make the crossover into market dominance at any point in its multi-century lifespan. Fantasy, on the other hand, has, and not because the genre is necessarily better (and neither is it worse). Fantasy is doing well because it got lucky. Now, to be fair to fantasy, it has always done rather well ever since Tolkien became a persistent model for other fantasy writers. As a genre, fantasy had a lot of uphill battles to fight to get to a point where it had a secure market, but once it got there it never let it go. Now, however, fantasy has exploded. Some have said that fantasy is experiencing a “Golden Age” of its own–and I would have to agree. Why? Well, as unpredictable as the market often is in regards to what will be the hot item of the year, I would say that fantasy simply got lucky. The publishers had no way of knowing that urban fantasy would plow through the roof like it did, or that other forms of fantasy (more traditional forms, if you will, and even the exceedingly non-traditional–literary, ultra-weird, etc.) would grow moderately over the last couple decades. It just happened. Now, if I were to argue for a reason, I would say that the last eight years have had a lot to do with the rise of fantasy. Publisher Weekly almost acknowledged as much in the last year when the recession hit and sales of escapist titles (science fiction and fantasy) actually rose (it was temporary in the sense that, while people were going to SF/F for a presumed escape from the present, the downturn of the economy eventually led to an almost universal drop in sales in almost all markets, some of which have yet to fully recover). The reality seems to be that when the proverbial crap hits the fan, readers flock to literature that is less likely to make matters worse. They want heroes and adventures, of a sort. I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but sales seem to reflect that. I am unsure how urban fantasy fits into this assessment–UF tends to be somewhat dark in nature. Either we have to accept that people are somewhat darker at heart than we ever anticipated, or urban fantasy offers a bit of harmless, well, fantasy. I don’t know how long fantasy’s “Golden Age” will last. As with all booms in literature, there are limits, and I suspect that urban fantasy, which seems to be the genre largely pulling fantasy up out of the pool, will eventually wear out its welcome–fantasy, as a whole, will not. For now, we can sleep soundly knowing that science fiction isn’t dead and fantasy is doing quite well. That’s good news.

Capitalist Fantasy: Where’s it at?

I had an interesting though the other day. With the exception of urban fantasy, which tends to take place in an nearby past or version of the present (with varying degrees of separation), the fantasy genre lacks a capitalist vein. Science fiction, of course, has plenty of this, but why doesn’t fantasy? The obvious answer is: time period. Most fantasy is written in a pseudo-medieval period with significant resemblance to medieval Europe with exceptional variations (the inclusion of magic, fantastic creatures, and different locales). Since capitalism did not exist in such periods, it makes sense that such places would not be run by capitalist structures. To be fair, medieval Europe was not capitalist primarily because of two factors (at least as I understand it): slow transportation and medieval feudalism. It’s difficult to imagine an economic system like capitalism functioning in a place that is not only seemingly run by an authoritarian figure whose personal rules stand for the word of God (more or less), but also incapable of supporting a system that needs to change, adapt, and move at a rapid pace. Fantasy, thus, enacts this real-world lack; capitalism does not exist there because, as in our world, it cannot. But why not? With magic such a prevalent force in many fantasies, why wouldn’t we see more of the capitalist structures that made up early capitalist America (or Britain, for that matter)? Magic lends itself so well to being a commodity, for good or bad. You can look to some of the strongest examples of late in which a market is given shape, and yet nothing in that shape indicates any sort of logical economic type. Harry Potter, for example, has Diagon Alley, and Gringott’s Bank, but yet we hear nothing of wages. We’re told there are rich and poor families, but it seems that the richest families embody the nobility and the poorest seem, more or less, like peasants. All of this is on purpose, I suppose, because capitalism is not a central theme, or even a side theme; capitalism is not important to Harry Potter. But why shouldn’t it be? Why does fantasy have to ignore these significant social issues in exchange for the adventures and prophecies (not all fantasy does this, but the stereotype of the genre is not unfounded). I suppose what I’m asking is: where are my capitalist fantasies? Double entendres are clever!

Talk Like a Pirate Day: Fast Ships, Black Sails!

Avast! Today be Talk Like a Pirate Day, a day o’ rejoicin’ an’ rum drinkin’ for all pirates everywhere. On such a day we be needin’ to set sail on the high seas to spread the word o’ somethin’ tha pulls us all together with it’s piratey goodness! Cap’in’s Ann and Jeff Vandermeer’s anthology Fast Ships, Black Sails, published by the fine sailors at Night Shade Books and smuggled to all th’ corners o’ the earth by Amazon. The tome, fer those wi’ the cunning t’read it, is packed like a barrel o’salt pork ready fer a month at sea wi’ tales o’ our fine people set in fantastical an’ science fictional places.Fast Ships, Black Sails is penned by a fine collection o’ landlubberly scribes like Kage Baker, an’ Elizabeth Bear. Fine tellers o’ tales they be, some o’ the best! Inside this tome ye can find:“Raising Anchor” – Ann & Jeff VanderMeer“Boojum” – Elizabeth Bear and Sarah Monette“Araminta, or, The Wreck of the Amphidrake” – Naomi Novik“Avast, Abaft!” – Howard Waldrop“I Begyn as I Mean to Go On” – Kage Baker“Castor on Troubled Waters” – Rhys Hughes“Elegy for Gabrielle, Patron Saint of Healers, Whores and Righteous Thieves” – Kelly Barnhill“Skillet and Saber” – Justin Howe“The Nymph’s Child” – Carrie Vaughn“68˚06’N, 31˚40’W” – Conrad Williams“Pirate Solutions” – Katherine Sparrow“We Sleep on a Thousand Waves” – Brendan Connell“Pirates of the Suara Sea” – David Freer & Eric Flint“Voyage of the Iguana” – Steve Aylett“Iron Face” – Michael Moorcock“A Cold Day in Hell” – Paul Batteiger“Captain Blackheart Wentworth” – Rachel Swirsky“The Whale Below” – Jayme Lynn Blaschke“Beyond the Sea Gate of the Scholar-Pirates of Sarskoe” – Garth Nix Fine tales, to be sure, from fine scribes, new an’ old. If yer in a piratey mood, pillage yeself some dubloons and buy it. Night Shade Books has some mighty fine tales fer sale, an’ they’re a small press, so buyin’ their tomes helps them keep their ship afloat! So, matey, find yeself a bookseller and hand over those dubloons, or ye might find yerself walkin’ the plank! Arr! (Thank to Capt’n Bourneville fer translatin’ me landlubber speak into th’ true tongue!)

World Building: Thoughts and Practices

World building is one of those things you have to do, even if you don’t want to. Whether you write fantasy, science fiction, or something else entirely, you’ll always find yourself attempting to build your world, whether at the micro or macro levels. Creating characters is a form of world building, and if all you do is create unique characters for your novels, then you are as much a part of the process as someone who builds entire worlds (they just have to spend more time creating things from scratch, while you, perhaps, can sit around in the comfort of the world you know). I’ve often approached world building from a relatively minimalist position. While I enjoy fantasy worlds with richly developed worlds, sometimes such things can get in the way and what should be a riveting novel can turn into a foray into the author’s world building practices. Nobody wants that. Tolkien, for all his brilliance in creating the most fully-realized fantasy world in the history of the genre, was occupied by unfortunate flaws in style and character development, some of which were a product of the times. I prefer to keep things localized. Whether it is the most efficient method, I don’t know, but it seems to work well enough for me. I don’t occupy myself with excessive amounts of ancient history, because, as much as that might be interesting, it is not relevant to whatever story I am writing at that moment. When I build worlds, I start with names and general ideas, work my way to a map, and then go wild until I feel that I know enough about the world to be able to write in it. Sometimes it works well, depending on how interested I am in a particular world, and sometimes it doesn’t. But when it works, it really works. I have three fantasy worlds that I developed this way (Traea, the world in which The World in the Satin Bag is set, a world where I’ve set many of my “quirky” fantasy stories, and the Mundoscurad, the most recent, in which The Watchtower is set. There are an absurd amount of different methods for world building, from genre specific to author specific. Writers of all genres, particularly newer writers, are always looking for the “best way,” not realizing that the “best way” is really non-existent. Reality dictates that what might work for some, may not work for you, and vice versa. Ken McConnell, for example, said via his Twitter that, “sometimes it’s the little things, like word choice that can set the tone and enrich your world building.” So what do you do when it comes to world building? How do you find the right method for you? Trial and error. Not the answer you were looking for, were you? Tough. So much of writing involves trying something to see if it works for you. If it doesn’t, you drop it and try something else. Trial and error is a writer’s third or fourth, or maybe tenth, best friend (no doubt writers have a lot of best friends). But that’s neither here nor there. I want to hear about your world building methods. How do you approach creating new worlds? What works for you?

Fantasy Essentials: What Should I Have Read?

Somewhere along the line I began getting criticized for not being all that great at writing fantasy because I had not read enough in the genre. Maybe this is true, and if so, I would like to rectify that, to the best of my ability. So, to all those reading this, I’m calling on you for help. In the comments, let me know which five fantasy novels you think I absolutely must read. They can be any fantasy novel except the following: The Lord of the Rings, Eragon, Harry Potter, and George R. R. Martin. I’ve either already read those or tried to read them, so including them here would be meaningless at the moment. Have at it. Tell me which five you think I should read and why!