CSFF Blog Tour vs Tuesday Tunes: Storm Siren

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Greetings, pop pickers! Welcome to that point in the Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour when we forget about Mary Weber’s Storm Siren trilogy, and plumb the depths of my music collection (and Spotify, whose collection is a little more extensive) for a brief musical interlude.

It’s looking a bit black over Bill’s mother’s, so take cover before the Top Ten Storm Songs hit…

10. Spaceheads – Storm Force 8
And weopen with the customary 8 minutes of electronica.

9. U2 – Electrical Storm
U2 are an Irish rock band made up of oddly-named characters like ‘Bonio’, ‘Hedge’ and ‘Larry’. But don’t let that put you off, they could be big one day.

8. Tanya Donelly – The Storm
This song reminds me of Catatonia. Are we sure Tanya is from Newport, Rhode Island, and not Newport, Gwent?

7. The Wonder Stuff – Storm Drain
Paul from The Wonder Stuff was actually Marilyn Manson in disguise as a Black Country indie-rocker – a fact which has led to many an amusing rumour over the years.

6. The Levellers – Dance Before the Storm
First the Stuffies, now The Levellers… it’s a proper nostalgia factory in here tonight; like I’m in Sixth Form all over again.

5. Leftfield – Storm 3000
I think I just tuned into that pirate radio station again…oh well, I’ll see how this track plays out before I retune for Mark Goodier’s Evening Session.

4. Red Hot Chilli Peppers – Storm in a Teacup
You know the Chilli Peppers, famous Mexican rock band. Probably. Look, I haven’t got time to fact check, I have geography homework to do.

3. Astralasia – Riders on the Storm
Granted, a psychadelic trance cover of a Doors classic may not be to everyone’s taste, but I happen rather to like this.

2. Tangerine Dream – Storm Seekers
It’s quite possible that a lot of the facts in these bits are made up, and made up with references far too obscure for most of my readers. Still, I’m having fun. I’ll take questions at the end of the Top Ten.

1. Young Knives – Storm Clouds
This is just awesome. If storm clouds could play guitars and drums and stuff, they would totally sound like this.

And that was our Top Ten. I have it on good authority that Storm Siren
 by Mary Weber is still available, and still rocks like a Mexican four-piece. But don’t take my word for it, click something at random from the list on the sidebar, and see what my fellow bloggers think.

Listen along

Follow the tour:

Julie Bihn
Lauren Bombardier
Beckie Burnham
Vicky DealSharingAunt
George Duncan
April Erwin
Carol Gehringer
Victor Gentile
Ryan Heart
Timothy Hicks
Janeen Ippolito
Carol Keen
Emileigh Latham
Simone Lilly-Egerter
Jennette Mbewe
Shannon McDermott
Meagan @ Blooming with Books
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Joan Nienhuis
Nissa
Jalynn Patterson
Audrey Sauble
Chawna Schroeder
Jojo Sutis
Steve Trower
Phyllis Wheeler
Michelle R. Wood

CSFF Blog Tour: Storm Siren by Mary Weber

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Seems like it’s been a while since we had a blog tour, doesn’t it? Well, here we are again, and this time round we’re shining a light on Mary Weber’s YA trilogy (or part one thereof), Storm Siren.

And here’s something about the book I managed to glean from amazon:

Nym, a slave and unlikely heroine, is plagued by guilt for the innocents killed by her superpower: dangerous weather spawned by her out-of-control anger. Along with flesh-eating horses and the shape-shifting wolf-wizard Draewulf, she considers herself one of the monsters that inhabit the war-torn world of Faelen. Together with Colin, who generates earthquakes, and handsome Eogan, who calms her storms, Nym –

Wait, what? Together with who? The maker of earthquakes, creator of tsunamis, spinner of tectonic plates… Colin? Colins do not have seismic superpowers. They’re a supervisor in a call centre, or a bank manager from Swindon. They don’t cause buildings to tremble or land to slide. They certainly don’t have an epicentre.

bio-picNow, I could be jumping to conclusions here, but I don’t think Mary Weber has ever met a Colin. Seriously, I’ve seen her author pic. That’s her there. Does she look like someone who mixes with Colins? Mad Dog or Shredmaster maybe. Or Sixfingers. I’d even believe Nym… but not Colin. A Collins Dictionary, sure, being an author and everything. Just not… Colin.

Clearly, any book which claims someone called Colin might register on the Richter scale has no credibility. It’s just fantasy as far as I’m concerned, and should be clearly marketed as such.


Follow the tour:

Julie Bihn
Lauren Bombardier
Beckie Burnham
Vicky DealSharingAunt
George Duncan
April Erwin
Carol Gehringer
Victor Gentile
Ryan Heart
Timothy Hicks
Janeen Ippolito
Carol Keen
Emileigh Latham
Simone Lilly-Egerter
Jennette Mbewe
Shannon McDermott
Meagan @ Blooming with Books
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Joan Nienhuis
Nissa
Jalynn Patterson
Audrey Sauble
Chawna Schroeder
Jojo Sutis
Steve Trower
Phyllis Wheeler
Michelle R. Wood

This week, I have been mostly…

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…getting distracted by my mid-life crisis, obviously. It’s already almost a week into Camp NaNoWriMo (how did that happen?) but I don’t have a great deal to say about that, so we’ll come back to that later in the month shall we? First things first though, did I get much done in the last few weeks?

Writing.

Er, not much. Not fiction anyway; I did manage a blog post over at Christian Geek Central about Doctor Who, so that’s a bonus. As far as stories are concerned, I think I got too caught up in the big edit-frenzy that is Camp NaNo and spent my writing time trying to get ready for that.
 

Editing.

April’s writing time has been given over to the next edit/rewrite stage of Bootlesquith Manor. To date that has consisted of slashing 5,000 useless words, and putting the remaining chapters in a more sensible order. The detail editing will probably start tomorrow.
 

Planning.

I desperately want to get on with the Ambivalence Chronicles, but at the moment I’m trying to figure out whether or not it will have some loose connection to Bootlesquith Manor. I suspect it might, but how obvious – or indeed relevant – that becomes is still a mystery.
 

Coming soon…

Bootlesquith Manor. Or at least, the story which is currently going by that alias, for reasons which may or may not be explained later. Needless to say I missed the March deadline for Writers of the Future, but there’s always next quarter, assuming Bootlesquith Manor gets finished.
 
So that’s what I’ve been up to; now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to camp.

Who’s First

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This was going to be the latest Re-Dwarf post, but then I realised that thanks to the wonders of modern technology I can repeat my exact thoughts from, well, ten years and a day ago now, because I didn’t do it on the actual anniversary. Why be normal, after all.

Anyway, ten years ago (yesterday) I was eagerly awaiting the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy movie, which was just under 42 days away. But rather more pressingly, I blogged this:

Of course, before we welcome Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent to the big screen, there’s another eccentric alien and his Earthling companion to welcome back…

As I write this, it’s about four hours before the first new episode of Doctor Who in about 16 years (unless you count the ’96 movie, which I always thought was just someone’s millennial paranoia tale tacked onto a famous name to make a sale, but what do I know?) and I’m so stupidly excited I feel like I should be about ten again.

I could be disappointed, of course, with the absence of the old four-part serials, but hey, this is the 21st Century – I’m sure the Doctor can move with the times. Besides, it can’t be any worse than the Colin Baker years, can it? (It’s nothing personal, Col – I mean, it’s hardly your fault you got saddled with Trial of a Timelord, the extended clip show that lasted about three months, is it?)

Of course, Tom Baker is the Doctor*. I’m part of his generation (or should that be… oh, never mind. The pun’s far too obvious). I grew up with K-9, for heaven’s sake. The hat, the scarf, the jelly babies…

Sylvester McCoy was good, too. Pity he was the one that got the chop. And Ace was my fave companion (she had a certain appeal to me when I was a hormone-addled 15-year-old… I forget why) although I have a certain fondness for Billie Piper. That’s something different though. That’s me being a refugee from Swindon too. I kinda wish Doctor Who had come and rescued me…

*He’s also the best bit on Little Britain, IMO, although I acknowledge that may be a minority viewpoint

Hitchhikers and Doctor Who, both making a long-awaited return within a few weeks of each other. Must have been a good year! Thankfully, one of the two turned out not to be a pile of fetid dingoes kidneys.

Looking back, RTD got it pretty spot on when he brought the good Doctor back. Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor, missing the, um, memorable attire of the likes of Baker, Davison and Baker, was perhaps less alien than he might have been… at least, no more alien than a lot of Northerners are. Eccleston brought a certain gravitas to the role that got the show off to a fantastic start – even when faced with the slightly comedic Autons as his first baddie.

It was only a few weeks later that it was announced that he wouldn’t return for a second series; the Ninth Doctor had already made a big impression, because I could not see how the show could carry on with a new lead after so short a time…

And then, of course, David Tenant rocked up in his dressing gown and made a better homage to Douglas Adams than that wretched movie.

And in time, of course, we got Daleks, Cybermen, and even the Master back… The scarf, the jelly babaies, and a variety of hats came along later too. New Who has been a bit of a success really, among new fans and old, and I suppose we owe at least part of that to the too short-lived Ninth Doctor.

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Book Review: The Long Earth by Terry Pratchett & Stephen Baxter

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The Long Earth could have gone either way; Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter have each written things I could happily read over and over, and things that have utterly failed to grab me.

As it turns out, it went the good way – for me at least, but it is the sort of work that won’t appeal to everyone.

It certainly isn’t a Discworld story; it’s quite light hearted, the design of the stepper itself could have been straight from the streets of Ankh-Morpork, but it’s not LOL funny like an early Discworld novel.

It’s also not the kind of hard sf Baxter often writes, but the world-building, which is based on potential alternative evolutionary paths for our world, seems like an extension of some of his other work.

In the year 2015, humanity discovers a way of ‘stepping’ into alternate earths by means of a simple device anyone can build based on instructions released onto the internet. Unlike some parallel world stories, humanity has evolved on only one Earth, although intelligent humanoids are discovered elsewhere and given flattering names like trolls and elves, as humans are likely to do.

This book is, for the most part, an odyssey through the Long Earth, following natural stepper Joshua Valienté, and an artificial intelligence named Lobsang, who believes himself to be a reincarnated Tibetan motorcycle repairman.

What Lobsang may or may not be is an interesting philosophical diversion for a few pages, but I would have liked to learn more about him, the extent of his artificial mind, and how reincarnation works in this world.

There isn’t a whole lot of action, but that’s not a bad thing because the world is fun to explore, and the writing is easy to get lost in. Between them the authors have created an interesting premise and a potentially infinite multiverse to explore; their two normally very different approaches to world-building coming together here and creating something I don’t think either could have done alone.

Open this book without expectations based on either Pratchett or Baxter; just sit back and watch the worlds go by.




Re-Dwarf: White Hole

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Finally, after many months’ absence, the Great Red Dwarf re-watch is back. And White Hole is probably one of my top three episodes ever, if I were to ever sit and compile such a thing.

The story starts with Kryten repairing Talkie Toaster in order to conduct experiments in intelligence compression to stave of Holly’s computer senility. Predictably, things go awry and the crew are suddenly left without Holly – and without access to any of the technology their daily lives normally depend upon; as Lister points out, they are reduced to the level of primitives.

And just when they thought the day couldn’t get any worse, they encounter a new phenomenon…

Holly’s plan is, basically, to throw a nuclear bomb at the sun, using the resulting solar flare to plug the white hole with a planet. To play pool with planets. This plan, however, puts her firmly on Lister’s home ground, and on thebasis that having an IQ of 12,000 doesn’t mean she can play pool, Lister takes the shot himself, relying on Wicked Strength lager and skills refined at the Aigburth Arms on a Friday night.

Given that God is infinite, and that the universe is also infinite; would you like a toasted teacake?

But before the Prince of the Planet-Potters plays his trick shot, let’s back up a little, to where everything shuts down. Holly takes with her the engines, navigation and all but emergency power. Everything, in fact, except the oxygen recycler, minimal heating and lighting… and Rimmer.

It seems that Rimmer was granted a reprieve because there would be insufficient power to reboot him from the emergency batteries, despite the fact that without his drain on the system, Lister and Cat could extend their (admittedly still very short) remaining time. Under normal circumstances, SpaceCorps Directives dictate that ‘a hologrammatic crewmember must lay down his life in order that the living crewmembers might survive’; this being Red Dwarf, however, and the SpaceCorps being about three million years out of date, the switch-off option is taken off the table.

I find Rimmer’s choices here interesting. One the one hand, he can make the ultimate sacrifice, lay down his life so that what passes as his friends can live longer. Or he can refuse, watch them die, and then carry on, alone, until he eventually runs out of power and ‘dies’ anyway. Give your life up willingly, or lose it anyway.

The other point of potential relevance is what happens when Holly – the entity who effectively keeps their universe (within Red Dwarf anyway) running, provides them with food, warmth, the very air they breathe – is suddenly taken out of the equation:

It leaves us galloping up diarrhoea drive without a saddle.

So I guess the moral of this story, such as it is, is don’t switch your Holly off. That, and keep your pool playing arm solid, just in case.

 



Tuesday Tunes: St Patrick’s Day edition

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It is, of course, St Patrick’s Day today, in honour of which today’s musical blog will be dedicated to some good traditional Irish music: the 3-disc box set of Thin Lizzy’s greatest hits. (The third disc is a DVD of live performances which I still haven’t watched, and will play no further part in this review.)

Reviewing such a thing properly would, of course, be largely redundant. If you haven’t at least heard The Boys Are Back In Town, you have actually just arrived on this planet, and should turn on the TV immediately. It’ll be on something or other soon.

The Boys Are Back was the band’s big international break, and almost certainly their best known track, and is a predictable but deserving opener to this collection. (A live version also closes the second disc, just to prove the point.) If you like that tune, there’s a pretty good chance you’ll enjoy the rest of this compilation. That’s not to say that the rest of the tracks are rehashed versions of their best tune – check out, for instance, the more melodic Sarah, about Phil Lynott’s baby daughter.

There are, as well as Thin Lizzy’s finest moments, a smattering of Phil Lynott’s solo tracks and some he recorded with Gary Moore – seriously, the guitar work on Parisienne Walkways, how awesome is it? If I could play guitar, I’d want to play like Gary Moore. Or Dave Davies. Or both. But I can’t, so that’s beside the point.

Also among Lynott’s solo efforts is the slightly odd Yellow Pearl, which I literally just (well, when I bought the CD) discovered was the tune to Top of the Pops during my formative years. I guess that might go some way to explaining why I think the Lizzy are cool. On the other hand, it could be the insightful lyrics (“Tonight there’s gonna be a jailbreak/ Somewhere in this town” – I’m guessing probably not IKEA?), or the random bits of Irishness (notably Emerald, and Whiskey in the Jar). Or the kickass guitars. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s just great music that stands the test of time and still rocks 30-odd years later. A bit like me really…

Listen along

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Sir Terry Pratchett (1948-2015)

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I have nothing to say here that hasn’t already been said more eloquently or meaningfully throughout the internet. I don’t have a story of how he mocked the scruffy copy of Hogfather I asked him to sign – I’ve never even been to a Terry signing (although I’m sure that, as most houses in this country do, we have a signed Discworld novel somewhere). I don’t have a better geek dad story than this one. I can’t even claim to have read all his novels, although I probably still have the t-shirt.

In fact, besides the now very old and possibly moth-eaten t-shirt, all I have to offer is a model of the Discworld on the back of a Mini Pick-up.
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I hope that’s a suitably unique tribute to an author who has undoubtedly influenced my reading and writing over the years – if I could convey half the sense of fun and silliness that came from those early Discworld books (especially the ones with Rincewind or Gaspode the Wonder Dog in them), create a carnival of freaks remotely as memorable as those that populate Ankh-Morpork, or get away with calling a character Moist von Lipwig, I would be… well, I’d be a better author, I expect.

It is a bittersweet moment; at least Sir Terry was granted his wish not to suffer Alzheimer’s through to the bitter end. I think he’d want us to be happy about that. And as he wrote in Reaper Man:

No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.


With over 50 novels and a whole bunch of other writing loose in the world, Terry Pratchett has left a lot of ripples.

Read Terry Pratchett:

 


Book Review: The Visitation by Frank Peretti

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I first read The Visitation about 8 years ago, and I liked it then because it played out along similar lines to a project I was working on at the time. I think partsof that project may still exist in some form somewhere, but this isn’t about me. This is about Frank Peretti, and Travis Jordan.

Jordan is a disenchanted former minister, a man who has seen more bad Christians and Churchianity than any one person should ever have to endure. And part of the story is his personal journey, a journey which, as Peretti says in his introduction, we will all travel at some point in our Christian life.

Travis Jordan’s story is told partly in flash-back, to those dodgy churches and bad experiences, and partly in contrast to the story of his nemesis, Brandon Nichols, a stranger who wanders into his town and sets himself up as some kind of prophet-come-Christ figure. He too has been hurt by bad Christians, and seems intent on taking it out on the rest of the world.

I think Nichols’ back story is a little far-fetched, but Jordan’s experiences, if exaggerated, contain plenty of truth about the potential pitfalls of ‘church stuff’.

Anyone who has ever been wronged by a church, or even by a (probably well-intentioned) Christian, will find it hard not to sympathise with Travis Jordan. I think I like him more because I reached that point in life where I don’t want ‘Christians’ telling me what to think. I don’t often enjoy worship music, but when I do, it’s written by a lesbian. I not only read Harry Potter, but I read His Dark Materials too. And enjoyed them. And if someone stands in a pulpit and says ‘Don’t read this’, it’s going straight on my birthday list. Call me an infant-baptised heretic if you like, but I’ll continue to think for myself if it’s all the same to you. Jesus died to take away my sins, not my mind.




A Bad Case of Real Life

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It can’t have escaped anyone’s notice that my attempts to be regularly blogging and more intentionally pursuing a writing career have thus far failed to materialise. I have all these good intentions, but real life, it seems, has more pressing matters it would like me to attend to. As these in usually involve being able to pay the mortgage and feed my family, I generally concede the point.

But that doesn’t really help; I still have a million and one (count ’em) creative ideas queueing for attention, alongside the day job, the family, and the mundane but essential business of everyday life. So… where do I find time to do all this writing, editing and publishing?

Well clearly, so far I haven’t. So in order to try and progress this year of intentional writing, I need to rethink how I go about it. And so far I’ve come up with two key changes to make:

Blog less.

Yes, you at the back stop sniggering. I know hardly any of my posts get read, and that actually doesn’t bother me because I’m usually just writing stuff I want to write but which have no bearing on the broader subjects I’m writing about (like music reviews) or I’m just thinking out loud (like now).

So, I might find an alternative outlet for some of the things I blog about, or I might not, we’ll see how that goes. What I will do is try and write at least one fairly decent and relevant blog per week, and the rest of the stuff can come when I have time. Which leads to the second change…
 

Make time.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the only realistic and achievable way of doing this is just to get up early and get an hour of writing in before the day starts bothering me with its tedious problems.
 
And that, in nutshell, is my plan so far. We’ll see how that works for productivity in March…