Monday update

February 20, 2017

Saturday’s event at the Park Hill Branch Library was great! Thanks to all who came by!

So I spent all last week writing a bunch of emails hoping to get responses today but then it turns out today is a holiday and one of the things about working from home is sometimes you just don’t notice when everyone else isn’t working.  At least I don’t need to go to the bank or post office today.

I finished my last book (Mythago Wood by Robert Holdstock) without picking my next book, and this has left me floundering a bit. I try to pick the next one before finishing the previous so I can jump right in. When I don’t, I look at all the books on the to-be-read pile and freeze up. So, that’s something I need to do today.  JUST PICK SOMETHING, GAH.

I submitted two lists for the Great Backyard Bird Count. Given how busy I was this weekend, I think that’s pretty good. The highlights were out at Walden Ponds, where I set up the spotting scope and got a bunch of neat ducks, and a hooded merganser showing off for the ladies.  But I was also able to get the scope on a magnificent golden eagle, who perched on an electric line pylon nearby and stayed for a good long time.

The Bannerless sequel is about at the 50% mark. I had to stop and outline the messy middle, but I think I’m back on track, at least for the next little bit.

And that’s a Monday.



award nomination season

February 8, 2017

The nominating season for the Hugo and Nebula awards is upon us (the former nominated by attendees of last year’s and this year’s Worldcons, and the latter by the membership of SFWA), and I like to try to talk about what I’m looking at nominating, at least a little.  (A couple months ago I posted my own eligible work, if you’re so inclined to look.)

As usual, I didn’t read much in the way of shorter fiction — I keep meaning to and I keep not making it happen. Grr.  I did encounter Paolo Bacigalupi’s new one, “Mika Model,” super brutal and pointed and very good.  I actually did pretty well on novels.  My favorite new novel last year was probably Kingfisher by Patricia McKillip, a very quiet but very clever. . .actually I can’t say much more about it without spoiling the surprise, which is right there in the title and I didn’t even notice it until I was a third of the way through.

A lot of good entries in series:  Four Roads Cross by Max Gladstone, part of the very cool Craft Sequence. Babylon’s Ashes by James S.A. Corey.  The Raven King by Maggie Stiefvater, which wraps up the excellent Raven Cycle, which everyone should try.

This brings me to this year’s Hugo Awards, which added a special category for best series. This has the potential of being quite contentious, which is why I was sure to nominate all of the above, as well as Wild Cards, the longest-running shared-world anthology series in SF&F, which had a new book out last year, High Stakes.  It would be awesome to get some recognition for the 30 years of storytelling the Wild Cards gang has put out.

The other category I paid attention to is Graphic Story, because there’s just so much going on in this field, both in the big publishers and with independents. I’d like to draw attention to Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda’s Monstress, the ongoing Strong Female Protagonist, and a couple of out-of-left-field entries from DC and Marvel:  Bombshells, which on the surface looks like an excuse to draw all the DC women heroes and villains as 1940’s pinups, but manages to be a totally woman-centric alt-history adventure story, which is very cool; and The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. I’m late to the party on that one, but it’s goofy and meta and hard not to love.

And that’s what I’m looking at right now.



working, working

January 25, 2017

Over the last two months I’ve written two short stories and 20k words of novel.  Seeing as how the six months before that was mostly post-production on Bannerless and Martians Abroad and a couple of side projects, that seems like a huge accomplishment.  Feels good to be writing new words again.

Reminder:  This Sunday 1 pm I’ll be at the Jean Cocteau Cinema in Santa Fe. It’s a ticketed event, check the website for more info.

I’ve got another piece up on, this one about Five Books That Make Living and Working in Space Seem Ordinary.  Definitely where I get some of my inspiration.

And just a week left in the first month of the year. It already seems like so much has happened.  Gotta keep going.  Onward and upward.



October 12, 2016

From recent reading, Peter S. Beagle’s introduction to his short story collection The Line Between:

“…it is the shadow that terrifies, not the monster it hides. The monster is an actor in a monster suit. The shadow is always real.”


the great urban fantasy crash

September 14, 2016

So the word around writing and publishing circles over the last couple of years is: urban fantasy isn’t selling anymore. Publishers aren’t buying it. What was hugely popular five years ago is now done. That ship has sailed.

I’ve seen some commentary about this being some big publisher conspiracy to kill the genre — just as I also saw commentary that the popularity of the genre was a publishing conspiracy in the first place.  But I’m here to tell you, as an urban fantasy author and someone who worked in a bookstore twenty years ago, publishers are highly reactive and not very good at manufacturing any kind of popularity. They react to sales numbers, and they’re usually chasing trends rather than creating them. (One of my favorite statements ever about publishing trends: everyone was looking for the next Harry Potter, which turned out to be Twilight, then everyone was looking for the next Twilight, which turned out to be The Hunger Games.  They’re still looking for the next Hunger Games…)

However it happened, the results have been increasingly clear: authors are having a harder time selling urban fantasy, and readers have had a harder time finding a good series to follow.

Here’s what I think contributed to the crash.  Note: this is my perception of the situation, based on my experience as a bookseller and author.  A lot of this is subjective experience, so make of it what you will.

–The bar for success in the genre became really high.  Sales numbers that would be decent in any other genre didn’t meet expectations for urban fantasy, where publishers were looking for the next #1 New York Times bestseller.  If an author didn’t hit the list pretty quick out of the gate, they were dropped.

–Publishers weren’t willing to stick with new authors to let them develop.  This led to “series” with only one or two books in them, and if they didn’t hit big right away, they got dropped.  Readers often wait until a series has several books in them before they start reading, but if the first books don’t sell, there will never be a series.  This happened to dozens of authors.

–At the same time, for a stretch there publishers were buying anything with a hint of vampire/ shapeshifter/romance in them.  They were throwing things against the wall to see what might stick — as above, hoping for the next bestseller.  (Six years ago I was telling people:  it was pretty easy to get a first contract for an urban fantasy novel — and really difficult to get a second contract.)

–As a result, quality became uneven.  Readers started to notice the same kinds of characters, the same kinds of storylines, the same tropes.  The genre got kind of predictable and boring and they moved on.

–Readers started getting frustrated, both because quality was uneven, and because they’d discover a favorite new author who would vanish within a year or two when their series never had a chance to get off the ground. (Hint:  they might still be writing under another name, or they might be e-publishing.)  So once again, many readers moved on.

–Sales of mass market paperbacks in general have tanked over the last couple of years.  Since most urban fantasy has been in mass market, it’s fallen victim to this trend. (Lots of discussion about why the trend is happening.  Are people buying e-books instead?  Are nice trade paperbacks simply more economical, since mass markets are almost up to $10 now?  I don’t know.)

So, basically, the market became oversaturated with urban fantasy, and various market forces caused a noticeable drop in the sales of urban fantasy, and publishers stopped publishing so much urban fantasy, and so on.

I also think a bunch of authors just got worn out with writing the same series for 10+ years, some of us on 2 book a year schedules.  I’m fascinated that a bunch of UF authors wrapped up their series in the space of a couple of years — Kim Harrison, Kelley Armstrong, Charlaine Harris, and so on.  This is all part of what let me know that I was making the right decision to wrap up Kitty.  Plus, I was at the end of the contract, the storyline was close to the end, and so on.  It really was time.

The thing is, and the thing that I’m constantly telling people, especially new authors who are trying to sell urban fantasy novels:  urban fantasy isn’t dead.  It’s still out there.  New UF and UF-adjacent novels are being published all the time, just maybe not in the numbers they were before.  Vampire and supernatural fiction has always been around, from the gothics of two hundred years ago on up. It changes, but it never entirely goes away.

Are you an author shopping an urban fantasy novel?  Try calling it supernatural mystery or thriller.  Or dark fantasy. Or contemporary fantasy.  Or find your own term.  The thing is, “urban fantasy” of the last 10 years was only ever a marketing term.  It was co-opted to describe a kind of fiction that was already happening, and it was only later that people and publishers started looking for fiction to fill that niche, after the niche was already well established.  Marketing terms and categories change all the time, in the endless quest to sell books.  Don’t let that change how you write or read.



May 20, 2016

I’m in that state where I have a bunch of things I ought to be reading, so of course instead I sat down and re-read Austen’s Persuasion.  It’s my favorite of hers.  I just finished that and am now trying out Michael Chabon’s Gentlemen of the Road, which appears to be an unabashed pastiche of late Victorian adventure novels, which is totally in my wheelhouse.  Although he dedicates the book to Michael Moorcock, which also tells you where it’s coming from.  There’s also a dash of Fritz Leiber in there.  I’m intrigued at how Chabon built up a reputation as a wholly literary writer, but then has used that platform to unabashedly mess around with various genres and genre conventions.  In the process he’s won a Pulitzer and a Hugo.  Nice work if you can get it.

I’m absolutely fascinated by the current popular phenomenon of mystery boxes like Loot Crate.  Everyone is talking about them.  Everyone posts pictures of their goodies on FB or whatever.  At Wondercon, there were at least three or four companies, including Loot Crate, selling boxes out of their booths.  I totally get the attraction.  It’s like Christmas and the lottery wrapped up in one.  Getting things in the mail is already awesome, but getting a big surprise in the mail is even more awesome.

But I’ll tell you my problem:  Right now I’m trying to get rid of things, not get more things, and most of these boxes seem to be all about things.  Tchotchkies.  Cool nerd stuff, but still stuff, that then ends up in boxes or as clutter.  I’ve spent two years sorting out things and carting them off to the thrift store, I don’t need more.  Prediction:  in about 10-15 years every thrift store in the country is going to have walls full of Funko Pop figures that no one has room for anymore and that no one wants to keep.

Well, at the Creative Ink Festival I was introduced to the Novel Tea Club.  This is a mystery box club where you get a book (you can pick the genre), and then some things like tea, tea infusers, candles, bath stuff, etc.  All designed for a nice relaxing read-in.  And — all entirely consumable.  No clutter, nothing to find space for.  It’s all stuff you use.  And then get more of.  Fantastic idea.

And today, the sun is shining, I’m out in short sleeves, and it’s magnificent.  That gray weather we had all last week really got me down.  But I’m better now.


I want to talk about both because this is such an interesting example of how an adaptation can go horribly, horribly wrong.

The Big Year by Mark Obmascik is a great read, an example of what makes the general nonfiction category so interesting:  he tells a story that reveals and illuminates a subculture that many people may not know about, and makes the topic and its players fascinating.  This is the story of the 1998 Big Year, when three birders competed to ID the most bird species in North America in a year when El Nino and odd weather patterns brought an unusual number of odd migrants to the continent, pushing the possible number of sightings to record highs.  The competition is entirely unofficial, and deeply obsessive, requiring tens of thousands of miles of travel.  The three players here are interesting and quirky in their own rights, and the story is all about the intersection of their lives and shared obsession.

If you’re at all interested in birds and birding it’s a must-read.  If you just like good stories about weird things that actually happened to interesting people, I recommend this one.

And then in 2011 they turned the book into a movie, starring Steve Martin, Owen Wilson, and Jack Black.  The movie is. . .frustrating.

The first sign we know that something has gone sideways is that even though the three characters in the movie correspond specifically to the real people from the book, the movie has changed their names and some important details about them, enough so that it’s no longer anything resembling biography.

This is because it turns out the movie is not really interested in birding at all.  Which isn’t to say it doesn’t have birds — it actually has a handful of sequences that illuminate exactly why birding is so cool, and how endlessly fascinating birds are.  Like when they find a pair of bald eagles in the middle of their mating dance.  They’ve all seen plenty of bald eagles, but they’ll watch this because it’s just cool.

But what the movie really wants to do is shoe-horn these characters and this situation into a really disgustingly bog-standard Hollywood story about “what’s really important in life.”  The Wilson character’s wife is going through fertility treatments so they can have a kid but the marriage ends when he picks birding over her.  Note:  this isn’t in the book at all.  Not even a little.  The Martin character decides he’d rather spend more time with his new grandbaby than with birding.  Also a plotline not in the book at all.  The Black character finds romance on his Big Year and decides he likes her better than birds.  ALSO NOT IN THE BOOK.  Are we sensing a pattern here?  The end of the movie:  Wilson’s character “wins” the year, but is left feeling unfulfilled as he stares at a young family with a baby across a pond.  Meanwhile, our other characters are the real “winners” because they’ve learned what’s really “important” in life.  i.e. Not birding.

Basically, the message of the book is:  Birding can get really obsessive but it’s also really awesome and attracts all kinds of interesting, driven people.

The message of the movie:  Everything else is more important than birding.

What really frustrated me is the original story of The Big Year already has plenty of plot and obstacles that make for great drama without inventing all this “true meaning of life” bullshit.  The person the Jack Black character is based on?  Gets sick halfway through the year and is eventually diagnosed with cancer.  (He lives.  I guess Hollywood couldn’t figure out how to tell a story about someone with cancer who lives.)

The movie uses birding as a crutch to tell this really boring story.  But it never explains why birding in the first place.  What turned these people onto birding?  How did they all get started and why have they all become so passionate about it?  The movie never tells us.  It could just as easily have been about golf or stamp collecting or curling.  But I really wanted to know why birding, because then it would mean so much more when the characters start questioning their obsessions with birding.

I wish I had liked this movie better because the actors were actually pretty good — especially Black, who gets across the drive and exhaustion of someone financially struggling to make his Year happen (that is in the book) — and I enjoyed watching them interact and play out the story.  But the story was just so weak.  I wish the movie had trusted its subject and source material more.