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The Strange and Curious Tales of Carl E Reed

The Strange and Curious Tales of Carl E Reed

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"The Last Flight of Major Havoc," by Carl E Reed, from Black Gate 9. Art by Bernie Mireault.
“The Last Flight of Major Havoc,” by Carl E Reed, from Black Gate 9. Art by Bernie Mireault.

I suppose I should kick off with a disclaimer. I’ve known Carl Reed since before I was professionally published in fiction.

I met him years ago, somewhere in the crazy 90s, when the dot-coms still had mercury-winged, lavishly-financed feet. I’d plopped down in the Arlington Heights Barnes and Noble to work on my draft and I saw a bearded man, near my own age and size, but a little broader, wearing a leather biker’s hat, pen in hand, peering at some handwritten words in a spiral notebook with equal parts concentration, wonder, and grief.

Yup, I thought. Has to be a writer. So I struck up a conversation and, in ten minutes, I felt I’d found a friend. I had discovered a man who takes pleasure in good reading and wants others to experience the same, a self-taught sage who puts each and every graduate-degreed friend of mine to shame with his scope of knowledge (living proof of the Good Will Hunting thesis that all you need for an education is a library card). Carl’s a skeptical iconoclast who currently works for the Jesuits in a publishing house. The Jesuits, no intellectual couch-potatoes themselves, probably admire his disciplined and rigorously-exercised mind.

We’ve drifted in and out of Chicago-area suburban writer’s groups and events. Even though my chosen arena of the writing world is the novel and he likes the fencing piste of the short story, we each found interesting aspects in the other’s writing and shared many a profitable critique session. Carl’s been published a few times (including in the old paper Black Gate with “The Final Flight of Major Havoc” in #9 “A tiny gem” -Lisa DuMond, SF Site), and in some ways, his successes are more noteworthy than mine, just because it’s so wretchedly hard to get any recognition as a short fiction writer.

How many short fiction guys who dabble in Sword and Sorcery have been featured on NPR? Yeah. That’s the mountain Carl climbed.

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New Treasures: Deadbeat: Makes You Stronger by Guy Adams

New Treasures: Deadbeat: Makes You Stronger by Guy Adams

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Deadbeats Guy Adams-smallI first stumbled on the novels of Guy Adams with The World House and its sequel, Restoration, both modern fantasy from Angry Robot, and his novel of hidden laboratories, genetic engineering, and Sherlock Holmes, The Army of Dr. Moreau (August, 2012). But it was his gonzo fantasy-western, The Good The Bad and the Infernal, released in March, that really got my attention.

Guy is not exactly sitting on his hands. The sequel to his March novel, Once Upon a Time in Hell, is scheduled to arrive in December, and his companion to the hit TV series Sherlock, The Sherlock Files, shipped in July. For those of you not keeping score, that’s four books in about 18 months. Damn.

So you can imagine my surprise when my weekly trip to the bookstore turned up Deadbeat: Makes You Stronger, a paperback by Guy Adams that was released in June, 2013. This is a pretty impressive run — all the more impressive because this one sounds like the most intriguing book yet.

Max and Tom are old, old friends, once actors. Tom now owns a jazz nightclub called Deadbeat which, as well as being their source of income, is also something of an in-joke. In a dark suburban churchyard one night they see a group of men are loading a coffin into the back of a van. But, why would you be taking a full coffin away from a graveyard and, more importantly, why is the occupant still breathing?

Tom and Max are on the case. God help us…

Deadbeat was published by Titan books in June 2013. It is 289 pages, priced at $7.99 for both the paperback and digital versions. The sequel, Deadbeat: Dogs of Waugh, is scheduled to arrive June 2014.

“Aren’t You a Little Short for a Stormtrooper?” Or, How to Describe Characters

“Aren’t You a Little Short for a Stormtrooper?” Or, How to Describe Characters

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Expecting Someone Taller-smallAs it happens, this line isn’t needed where it appears. We’re watching a movie and we can see for ourselves how tall Luke Skywalker is.

But imagine that we’re reading the screenplay or a novel. That one line tells us quite a bit. That troopers are usually tall. That Luke isn’t.

For a really brilliant example of how this works in a novel, consider Tom Holt’s Expecting Someone Taller. Without even opening the book, readers immediately know something about the main character’s appearance: he’s shorter than anyone expects.

I thought I was finished with exposition in my last post – or as finished as a writer ever is when talking about the elements of writing. But then I realized that, in a way, description is a particular form of exposition, just as necessary, and just as likely – yes, I’ll say it – to be skipped, or at least skimmed, by readers if it’s too long.

And description, like other forms of exposition, carries its own peculiar difficulties. What I’d like to talk about this week is how characters, especially main characters, are described. You know, what they look like, not their personalities.

[Aside: Is a fictional character an object? In giving them human characteristics, are we indulging in personification?]

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Blogging Sax Rohmer’s The Drums of Fu Manchu, Part Four

Blogging Sax Rohmer’s The Drums of Fu Manchu, Part Four

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51GMetCspFL__SY346_1134691Sax Rohmer’s The Drums of Fu Manchu was first serialized in Collier’s from April 1 to June 3, 1939. It was published in book form later that year by Cassel in the UK and Doubleday in the US. The last quarter of the book picks up with Sir Denis Nayland Smith and Bart Kerrigan having witnessed Dr. Fu Manchu’s meeting with German dictator Rudolf Adlon. Der Fuhrer received his final warning from the Si-Fan and was given one hour to leave Venice or else he would face assassination.

Smith and Kerrigan make their way through the villa and come upon the lotus room with the trap floor once more. Inside the room is Ardatha, with a set of keys, on a mission of mercy to save them from their fates. She leads both men out of the house, giving Smith a key to lock the door behind him, but refuses to flee with them.

Sir Denis quickly raises the Venetian police to raid the villa, in the hopes of rescuing Rudolf Adlon, who disappeared the previous night and has still not returned. The raid fails, as the villa is deserted except for the steward, who denies all knowledge of any Asian visitors and informs them the villa is the property of James Brownlow Wilton, an American newspaper tycoon, munitions manufacturer, and Nazi sympathizer (and a fairly transparent analogue of William Randolph Hearst). Mr. Wilton has just left his villa for his yacht, Silver Heels.

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Goth Chick News: Gaining Residency in Fear City

Goth Chick News: Gaining Residency in Fear City

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image008Have you ever become a fan of something in its earliest days and watched as it got better and better over time, until you were congratulating yourself at seeing the early greatness before everyone else caught on?

Or maybe that’s just me.

Usually it’s authors or film makers I have the pleasure of meeting on their freshman outings, and you can just tell that if you keep an eye on some them, things are going to get even more amazing as they further hone their craft.

In this particular case, it’s a hybrid of all the pop culture creativity that has been so much fun to follow.

Creating a haunted attraction from the ground up takes all the effort you can imagine — doubled. There’s the space, the permits, the theme, the detailed sets – costumes, makeup, actors, and promotion. Basically, all the components (and expense) of a stage production or an indy film with the additional elements of crowd control and liability insurance.

Fear City just kicked off its third season with a “Bloody Red Carpet” event on October 4th and its evolution has been a scream to watch.

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Vintage Treasures: Ronald Welch’s Knight Crusader

Vintage Treasures: Ronald Welch’s Knight Crusader

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Knight Crusader
“The British Harold Lamb”

Try not to lick your cracked lips. Don’t think of water. Listen to the Saracen arrows buzz past. Don’t flinch! Most of all, hold the line!

Grumpy old Sir Fulk can’t stand the heat. He raises his helm and ignoring the shouts of the other crusaders, waits while his son, Sir Joscelin, shares the last of his flask.

Whirrrrrrr! Thock!

An arrow takes Sir Fulk in the throat. There’s blood, there’s thrashing, and the old knight dies in the arms of his son, the effete Sir Joscelin.

Kurtzhau – age 6 – lets out a cry, as if he too were there, riding out under the baking 12th-century sun to face the army of Saladin. This is four years ago and I’m reading aloud from Ronald Welch’s Knight Crusader.

Now, Sir Joscelin — he of the camp voice, the silk clothing, perfumed handkerchief, the tough-as-nails young warrior who enjoyed winding up his conservative father with his decadent ways – charges out solo, determined on revenge.

Another cry from Kurtzhau. He draws up the covers. It’s Sunday morning, we’re reading in bed, and only now am I remembering that Ronald Welch, though nominally writing Children’s Fiction — he won the Carnegie medal for this — is ruthless with his body count.

Like the Crusader army, I’m caught in a cleft stick. If I stop, Kurtzhau won’t have closure. If I go on… well… Sir Philip, the hero, has a “character shield.” Let’s just say that his friends don’t.

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Working with Stanley Schmidt

Working with Stanley Schmidt

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Stanley SchmidtIt’s hard for me to believe that I worked with Stan for over thirty of the thirty-four years that he spent at the helm of Analog.

When I started at Davis Publications as an assistant in the subsidiary rights department, Stan was the imposing figure down the hall. Stan shared an office with Betsy Mitchell. He was the first person I ever knew who could work from home — he only came into the office three days a week.

Later, at management’s request (because they were always after our office space), his schedule was reduced to just one day a week in the office, which suited him fine. Stan’s assistant was responsible for mailing him a big box of slush manuscripts, and whatever else he needed, each month.

As I got to know him, I became less intimidated, but no less impressed. Stan is one person who has never lost the curiosity that drove him as a child. As a young person, this inquisitiveness led to science fiction and to being what would now be called a semifinalist in the Westinghouse Science Talent Search. As an adult, this curiosity has opened up many different avenues. He and his wife, Joyce, love nature and have a profound understanding of America’s flora and fauna. They have hiked and/or backpacked all over the country.

My family and I have been fortunate to be invited on some of those hikes. Although they are both in terrific shape, the Schmidts are kind to their companions, even when we are not particularly fit or when we are accompanied by a three-year-old. Because they like to stop to look, marvel, and identify the leaves and birds and ferns and snakes around them, they set a relaxed pace. Still, we’ve all made it to the top of peaks and there is little in life more beautiful than the memory of picnicking while watching turkey vultures soar below us and listening to Stan play the recorder.

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Dungeonslayers 4.0 & The Demolished Ones

Dungeonslayers 4.0 & The Demolished Ones

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dungeonslayersI’ve fallen for two game products I never expected to like. One is a slim paperback rule system for a fantasy role-playing game – and you might think we have enough of those, but this is pretty excellent. The other initially puzzled me because it seemed on first blush like it was a Victorian murder mystery… except that I discovered it more resembled The Prisoner.

The products have very little in common, except that they come from the same publisher and that I highly recommend them both.

All that you need to play Dungeonslayers – apart from dice, paper, pencil, and imagination – can be found in a slim 160 page paperback. I suppose a lot of role-playing games can make a similar claim, and it’s one I’ve heard often enough that upon first look I really didn’t see what the big deal was. But Dungeonslayers really is a different animal.

It’s beautifully presented and succinctly explained. There’s no bloat here, and there’s nothing confusing. It’s minimalist without being simplistic, and incredibly succinct. You can get the game up and running with a minimum of fuss.

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Campbell’s Reheated Mythopoetic Soup

Campbell’s Reheated Mythopoetic Soup

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In the fall session of my teen writing class at our local library, I’m planning to teach Joseph Campbell’s The Hero’s Journey. I’ve avoided this for several sessions, because personally I’m sick of its influence.  It’s been the default setting for epic fantasy, certainly since 1977. But if nothing else, it’s a structure that presents easy examples and will hopefully prompt some good discussion on why it’s popular and what writers can do with it.

But it’s also got me thinking about how it applies to my own stories, particularly those in the heroic fantasy genre. Because although it might sound counter-intuitive, the Hero’s Journey is really the antithesis of heroic fantasy.

"It's perfectly reasonable that all your fantasy epics for the foreseeable future will be based on my work. And yes, I rock the plaid."
“It’s perfectly reasonable that all fantasy epics for the foreseeable future will be based on my work. And yes, I rock the plaid.”

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To Elf or Not To Elf: Races in Fantasy Lit

To Elf or Not To Elf: Races in Fantasy Lit

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Evangeline Lilly in The HobbitA long, long time ago, I wrote my first novel. This was decades before I would get published. I was fresh out of college with grand ideas about how my book would set the fantasy world on fire. The story featured a main character that was half human and half elf, who set out to defend his elven kin from a nation of hostile orcs.

Yeah, I know. Not exactly groundbreaking. I’m thankful that novel was never published, more because of the shitty writing than the plot or characters. Yet, it brings up an interesting debate within fantasy literature.

Are races like elves, dwarves, orcs, and goblins fair game for modern fantasy?

Now, off the cuff, I’m inclined to say yes. You can write about anything you desire. Who am I to judge, right? However, while that may be the politically-correct answer, a little more digging turns up some complex issues for the modern writer.

My first introduction to those “classic” fantasy races was Prof. J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings saga, and it was continued in my formative years via games like Dungeons and Dragons and Warhammer Roleplay. Growing up on a diet of elves and orcs, it was little wonder that I choose to feature them in my own early writing. I suspect that most authors begin by emulating their literary idols, but eventually you need to break away and find your own brand of storytelling. It’s difficult to find your voice when you’re playing in someone else’s sandbox.

But what about authors who genuinely want to write about these races? Here’s why I would advise against it.

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