“How To Be Everything”: Embrace Your Many Passions, Become A Multipotentialite

I wrote a post back in August to “introduce myself” to other bloggers participating in a month long blogging event called #Blaugust. I had a great time during the event, and feel like everyone I interacted with during it was quite welcoming, kind, and just generally lovely.

Looking back, I had no reason to suspect it would be otherwise, however, in that moment of attempting to formulate my introduction, I was feeling quite a bit of anxiety. What should I say? What COULD I say that would that would tie together the range of random topics I’ve explored over the last DECADE (wow) of writing?

People on the internet are supposed to have a brand aren’t they? A niche? A subject specialty? I never have, and despite an “about page” which explicitly states my reasoning for why I have never felt I could, I was again feeling strongly that I should.

It’s the same in my “real life” where “I work for a library” explains exactly nothing about what my job entails, but attempting to give a more accurate description requires full paragraphs instead of just sentences, and generally people’s eyes will glaze over long before I’ve finished. Also, the amount of topics that exist which aren’t my job are legion, and I would much rather talk about that, then my 9-5 (which is actually a 9-6). Afterall, you’re not your fucking khakis.

Turns out, this is a tension that many people feel. In a world that increasingly values specialization, there are still a ton of people who just refuse to be pinned to just one thing. They may flit between jobs and hobbies like a bee in a field of daisies, or focus intensely on one calling for a period of years before reinventing themselves completely in a new domain. If they value having a roof over their head more than finding meaning in their work (not a hard sell really), they may take a job outside their interests for pay and then spend their free time exploring their passions without the stress of trying to make ends meet. Or there might be any of an infinite combination of these types which make up the type of person which How to be Everything defines as Multipotentialites.

Beyond just defining the term ‘multipotentialite’, How to Be Everything‘s main thesis moves from validation — listing famous multipotentialites like Steve Jobs, Maya Angelou and Benjamin Franklin to reassure the reader that though society (with a capital ‘S’) would have you believe specialization is king, curating multiple passions is indeed an advantage in today’s world — to defining some categories of multipotentialites, and offering advice on how to turn these stylings into a useful advantage.

There’s no doubt, this book spoke to me.

It has taken me nearly my whole life to find and accept a lot of the ideas in these pages as “just how I am”, and to build the strategies which Emilie Wapnick explains with confidence and wit. Readers may find that a lot of the stuff in this book, is stuff they are already doing, whether through instinct, or hard won experience (aka trial and error). But seeing it written out and defined is reassuring in a lot of ways, and then considering alternative pathways and methods seems useful as a thought experiment, even if it does not prompt any changes in the reader’s current mode of operation (and who knows, maybe it will).

Towards the end of the book, Wapnick discusses productivity strategies and perhaps more importantly, what to do when you get stuck. Nothing here is earth shattering, and much of it will feel familiar if you’ve ever been on Medium.com. Pomodoro is mentioned, so is finding ‘Flow’. I wrote down a couple things that were newish to me, so we’ll see if anything moves the needle.

Finally, Wapnick does an excellent job citing sources. There are at least six other books I’m excited to read which delve into topics discussed within How to Be Everything.

Where I wished the book would have spent a little time, is discussing side-hustle culture, and the gig economy. How more and more even specialists have to piece together a living through multiple jobs and passive income strategies. Society may still value specialization but it seems to be forcing us all into multipotentiality whether we want that or not. However, this book was published in 2017, so it’s possible that the work conditions we have now were not quite the same. Perhaps 2017 was a time in which being a multipotentialite was a path to getting ahead, as opposed to a requirement to survive (I may be overstating things here a bit also lol).

Give How To Be Everything a Read?

Absolutely. For anyone who has struggled to maintain focus in a singular domain, or felt boxed in by the ever narrowing scope of a specialized niche — for anyone who has thrilled in the pursuit of a passion, only to become bored with it once light flickers at the end of the tunnel — this book might be something of an emancipation. Or at the very least and “Ah Hah!” moment.

Wapnick presents several main personas with which the reader can identify, and then encourages the reader to take control of each with exercises and activities to help you envision a future in that space.

And even if you do not consider yourself a multipotentialite as defined within these pages, the self-discovery taking place within this book is still useful to help empathize with your multipotentialite friends, colleagues, and family. Also, though this book touts a hard line that specialization is perceived as the coin of the realm, I think there are many ways in which we’re all slowly being forced to take up multipotentialite strategies just to make ends meet. Of course some extra productivity advice never goes amiss, even for the most focused of individuals.

In a book that ask how to be everything, Wapnick manages to write a little something for everyone.

That’s all I have for this week! What are your thoughts? Are you a multipotentialite? What ‘eras’ have you moved through? What are you excited to pursue next?

Please leave your thoughts in the comments. I’m excited to talk about this one!

Improving Upon a Classic: A Review of ‘What Moves the Dead’

T. Kingfisher is starting to become something of a familiar face on this blog with a review of Thornhedge last week and Jackalope Wives before that.

What Moves The Dead perhaps shares some kinship with Thornhedge in that it is also a kind of retelling, but not of a fairytale or myth like we might expect, but of a horror classic, Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall Of The House of Usher.

I’ll admit that although the review of that story appeared before this one did on the blog, I had read most of this story before starting on Poe. In reality, I was a solid 25% of the way through before it occurred to me that the two were related, and about 70% through before I decided I’d better stop and read Poe first.

Whenever I come across these types of retellings, the kind which so obviously share their roots in a previous piece of literature, I cannot help but compare the two and look for deeper meanings. The correlation between H.G. Wells’ Island of Dr. Moreau and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s The Daughter of Dr. Moreau seems fairly obvious, and Moreno-Garcia’s intent for the revision more so (similar subversions can be found in the realm of Greek Mythology in Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles and Galatea).

Kingfisher seems to approach Poe’s work more from a place of curiosity and wanting to clarify much of the ambiguity in the original. She explains it on the Tor Presents: Voyage Into Genre podcast (S2E1 @ 27:27min):

“And I happened on Usher and I was like, I haven’t reread any Poe in a while. And I read Fall of the House of Usher and it’s obsessed with rotting vegetation and fungus. And it’s really short. And they don’t explain hardly anything. And the narrator is frankly kind of a lousy friend because – or bad in a crisis, one of the two, because when Madeline Usher rises from the dead, her brother screams falls down and the narrator just runs out of the house, which then collapses. Okay: running out of the house was a good thing cause the house was collapsing, but it, you stop check for a pulse on his friend who, you know, might have just had a bad shock and fainted. He’s like, Nope, dude, is definitely dead and Madeline Usher is, you know, wandering around, obviously having been buried alive and was clearly not dead but no, he’s just gonna run out of the house and not check anybody for a pulse or call a doctor. And I’m like, this guy is terrible at a crisis. And also I wanted to know what was wrong with, Madeline Usher because you get buried alive, that is a problem. And so I started reading about catalepsy which is what it was diagnosed as at the time and also fungus, there was just so much about fungus and I’m like, okay, obviously these two must be linked somehow.”

I would say ‘obsessed’ (with fungus) is perhaps overstating slightly. The word fungus is only mentioned twice in Poe’s work (same as the word opium) but one of those times is in italics and fairly close to the word ‘sentience’, so it isn’t hard to see how Kingfisher may have sparked upon that and wanted to see where it went.

A small thing, but one which stood out to me as interesting which ties back pretty directly to the original was Roderic’s musicianship. In the original, he plays the guitar, and its discussed that he improvises over a particular tune, ‘Von Weber’s Last Waltz’ (actually written by Carl Gottlieb Reißiger not Carl Maria von Weber). This piece was originally written for the piano, and apparently only started to be performed on the guitar AFTER the success of Poe’s short story.

Kingfisher doesn’t mention a particular tune (that I can recall), but does put Roderic on the piano and in a way, kind of ‘fixes’ the original work.

All of these interactions with Poe’s original story are kind of fun, and interesting to consider while reading, but I felt that the parts of What Moves the Dead that shined the brightest, were the parts that were unique to this retelling. Kingfisher mentioned (above) how short the original is, and while I wouldn’t say WMtD is long by any means, the added work pays off immensely in the areas of Character, and Worldbuilding.

We hardly get to know anyone in Poe’s original. The narrator is just a vehicle and Madeline isn’t even given any lines. Roderic is the character we understand best, with the actual house itself being a kind of quasi second.

Kingfisher’s version workers wonders in changing this, fleshing out a whole backstory for the narrator along with an invented country, Galacia, for them to hail from, unique in the quirks of its language which allow for many more pronouns than English. Madeline plays a larger role as well and so does the house physician. The house itself actually manages a kind of speech (through Madeline) and presents something of a moral dilemma towards the end.

And despite all of these added elements, Kingfisher still manages to continue — or really improve upon — the kind of creeping dread prevalent in the original.

One final thing to consider is this novella’s contention as a 2023 Hugo finalist in the novella category. I haven’t yet read any of the other finalists aside from Where the Drowned Girls Go (sadly unreviewed here on A&A), which ended up winning the award. For what it’s worth, having only read two so far, I think I enjoyed What Moves the Dead a bit more as I may have hit some kind of saturation limit on Wayward Children books.

Give What Moves the Dead a Read?

Yes! I would say certainly give this one a shot. If you’re worried about not having read The Fall of the House of Usher (or not having read it recently), don’t worry. I almost think the story is more enjoyable on its own without the comparisons. Certainly the parts which I liked most about the tale were those not included in the original, mostly the worldbuilding surrounding Galacia, and the narrator’s backstory and use of invented pronouns.

I’m seeing the that there is already a sequel out: What Feasts at Night. I’m looking forward to it already and wondering if it will be another retelling, and if so, of what?

That’s all I have this week. How do we feel about retellings like this? Leave your thoughts in the comment section!

See you next time.

Should ‘Thornhedge’ Have Won the Hugo Award?

In my review of Better Living Through Algorithms I was briefly in awe of the amount of award nominated fiction Naomi Kritzer had written, and somewhat embarrassed that I had reviewed very little of it on this blog.

The same can be said for T. Kingfisher (or Ursula Vernon) only times eleven. Vernon has been on my radar since Jackalope Wives back in 2015, and despite looking forward to reading A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking (Lode Star award winner) back in 2021 in my Hugo’s Reaction Post, and pronouncing my intent to read Nettle and Bone in my End of 2023 Booktag, JW remained the only thing I had read by the author when Thornhedge arrived in my Libby queue.

To date, this author has won five Hugo’s and been nominated for another three. It seems I’m a bit out of touch.

In any case, Thornhedge did arrive and I listened to the entire thing (4 hours) in one sitting while driving to the beach.

Kingfisher (and narrator Jennifer Blom) definitely have the ‘fairy-tale voice’ down, and the story of the enchantress Toadling and the gentle knight Halim is quite compelling just in the way that it is told.

Notice I’ve not mentioned the classic princess trapped in a tower. There is one, but as the back-cover (amazon page) blurb boldly states: “This isn’t her story.”

As such, Thornhedge positions itself as the type of fairy tale retelling which takes a story you know (in this case Sleeping Beauty), and recontextualizes it by changing the point of view or focusing on little known elements of the original tale. I would say it shares a lineage with books like Gregory Maguire’s Wicked (which I have not read), or Song of Achilles and Galatea by Madeline Miller (as the counterpart to this trend which deals with Greek mythology). Naomi Novik’s Uprooted, and Spinning Silver also come to mind as good comparisons.

But there are hundreds of similar retellings, if not thousands, and I’ll admit that on a first listen, I was unsure what about this one made it stand out from the others as something worthy of a Hugo.

My favorite parts were probably the sections which took place in a kind of faerie realm among swamp monsters called the Greenteeth (which I assume are somehow inspired by Jenny Greenteeth), but I can’t say these these affable horrors were SO affable as to dredge up an award nomination from their murky depths.

And so, I started asking myself questions. Primarily: What surprised me about this story?

This is perhaps where Halim comes into the foreground. I’ve not read of many European fairytales including Muslims, and cannot think of a single Muslim knight in any of the fairy tales I know (sorry if this was a slight spoiler). I’m certainly not a scholar in this area, but I am probably representative of the average person’s knowledge about fairy tales so I’m assuming if there are Muslim knights wandering around European fairy tales, they’re relatively obscure.

So this might be one element which caught people’s attention while reading. Also, as Dina over at SFF Book Reviews mentions in their post Let Sleeping Beauties Lie: T. Kingfisher – Thornhedge, neither Toadling nor Halim are conventionally beautiful characters. I think this is perhaps another area in which Thornhedge subverts expectations and goes its own way.

Should Thornhedge Have Won the Hugo for Best Novella?

Unfortunately, my experience with the nominees in the 2024 Best Novella category are a bit thin. Before reading Thornhedge, I’d only read and reviewed The Mimicking of Known Successes by Malka Older, which I thought somewhat underwhelming despite important thematic elements. I think I can firmly say I enjoyed Thornhedge more, but would not say either were particularly obvious choices for the win.

That is all I have for this time. What are y’all’s thoughts? Was the award deserved? Is there another story you would have liked to see take the rocket? Have you read Thornhedge yet? What were your favorite parts? Please leave your thoughts in the comments. I’m looking forward to talking about this one!

Enjoyable Despite Some Critical Missteps: A Review of ‘Red Rising’

Admittedly, I don’t have a particularly interesting reason for picking this one up. It seems to have done well enough in terms of sales, hitting # 20 on the NY Times Best Sellers list back in 2014. But it was never nominated for any awards (that I’m aware of), and I can’t say it’s been a big part of any of the conversations happening in the genre spaces I pay attention to. I’ve heard from friends that it’s huge on BookTok, but so far it hasn’t hit my feed there (maybe now it will!).

It doesn’t seem to provide context for another current work (as did Jackalope Wives, another recent read originally pub’d in 2014), nor can I point to Red Rising as some sort of personally formative work like The Matrix or The Mummy (1999).

I sorta just found it on my bookshelf and just decided to give it a go.

I have vague memories of maybe getting the book in one of those promotional bags they sometimes give away at conventions. I don’t remember which convention or what year. In essence, Red Rising kinda just followed me home one day.

That being said, I’m (generally) pretty glad it did!

First impressions Pierce Brown’s Martian epic are simultaneously overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. Overwhelming in the sheer amount of information we need to take in to get started on our rise to power, and underwhelming in the sense that little of this information is very distinguishable from other pillars of the genre. The intergalactic scope of Brown’s “Society“, with its focus on lineage and contracts (both military and civil) feels reminiscent of Dune, while the book’s invocation of Roman gods and goddesses as “house leaders” feels like something pulled from Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and the Olympians – The Lightning Thief. Then of course there is The Institute, a kind of war college centered around an ultra intense survival game, which seemed to almost quote the Battle School from Ender’s Game.

Actually, this book seems to owe a pretty hefty debt to Card’s classic (and no I did not intentionally read them back to back, that was actually just serendipity). Parallels between Darrow and Ender seem obvious; both are outsiders whose defining trait is seemingly their ability to out-think their opponents. House Mars’ proctor, named Fitchner, occupies the same role in Darrow’s story as Colonel Graff does in Ender’s: that of an antagonistic mentor. The two even seem to share some stress-induced eating disorders. That the name Wiggin is mentioned in a list of old earth conquerors seems to confirm the novel’s prominence in the author’s mind when writing.

And there were plenty of other pop-culture references within Red Rising as well. I caught a mention of Osgiliath, which is of course a reference to J.R.R. Tolkien‘s fantasy classic, The Lord of the Rings. Assuredly there are other easter eggs I missed.

In terms of genre, I wouldn’t really consider Red Rising a Godpunk novel, however it does have the shape of one, aka. insignificant mortal becomes significant by killing corrupt immortal gods which mistreat the noble but powerless masses.

The game’s proctors are not literal gods (although they are named after Roman deities), but they are so powerful within the setting that they might as well be. Since this narrative arc is so well rehearsed, Red Rising does not really hold much tension in whether or not Darrow will survive all the games and machinations of his supposed betters, but how will he survive them. How will he win with such high odds stacked against him? What can he do, and what will ultimately be the cost? What won’t he risk? How far is too far? It’s all pretty brutal.

This is of course, quite a powerful narrative, and I would say the thing that carries the novel despite what I would consider some missteps.

The first of these missteps comes right from the beginning and is pretty baked into the premise of the story. I’m talking (small spoiler) about about Darrow’s wife, Eo, getting ‘fridged’ pretty much immediately. Since reading The Refrigerator Monologues back in 2017, I notice this trope in tons of works and always find my eyes rolling a bit now when I see it. In Red Rising it’s especially egregious because it almost happens a second time with Darrow’s new love interest getting captured and put in need of saving near the end of the book.

This is probably the most obvious instance of (I’m going to assume unintended) misogyny within the book, but I found a pretty interesting discussion of some more hidden biases explained in a post titled Building Mars: How Red Rising Flubs Class Conflict over at Mythcreants.

My second hiccup with Red Rising involves its use of the Color-Coded Castes trope in which their society is divided into a spectrum with “golds” at the top (the haves) and “reds” at the bottom (the have nots), and a myriad of in-between colors with various roles in the society. This is obviously quite a common trope, and some of my favorite fantasy series have made use of it (see Shadow and Bone, Harry Potter, and Wheel of Time).

And while I can see the benefits of this kind of world building — easy shorthand for characterization, instant conflicts between castes that historically hate each other, quick identification of allies and enemies — I wonder if abandoning this trope might actually provide for more rich and interesting stories.

Things might get more confusing, sure, but wouldn’t a more satisfying experience come from sussing out whether a character is a friend or enemy by watching what they do, and having to pick up on clues in their behavior? Couldn’t characterization be developed through an extra scene here or there? And how much more tension could a scene hold if we just didn’t know for sure where allegiances lie?

I think the answer to all of these questions is yes and a lot, and probably I’ve just reached my limit on this particular tool.

Give Red Rising a Read?

I would say yes, but with some pretty big caveats. This book has some issues, which I’ve tried describe without spoiling too much. But it also has some good things going for it as well. I’m not a fan of its sexism and its use of some tropes (fridging and color-coded casting), however, I did enjoy the main arc as well as any little references or allusions to other genre titles. I listed many books which it seems to share some common elements with. I enjoy those other books and so I found myself enjoying those parts of Red Rising.

I can see that this series has about six books in it already, so I expect I’ll end up reading the sequel and continue to refine my opinion further as I go.

That’s all I have this time. What is everyone else’s take? Has anyone else read this yet? Are there any tropes you just hate to see? Any you love? Leave your thoughts in the comments, I’m looking forward to chatting about this one!

Until next time!

Beyond the Ban: Ender’s Game Reexamined

It’s (almost the end of) Banned Books Week, so I thought it might be cool to review a ‘banned book’ here on the blog. Considering the number of books banned each year is rising exponentially, I had a plethora of titles to choose from. However, the book that caught my eye was one I had read early on in that fateful science fiction course my senior year of high school which I feel essentially activated me as a fan of the genre.

That book was Ender’s Game.

Back in 2007/2008 when I initially read this book, I’m sure I was mostly concerned with its most obvious themes and whatever issues within the text I would need to discuss the next day in class. Still, I remember enjoying the book quite a bit and thinking that reading it hardly felt like homework at all.

I’m sure there was some hero-worship happening. Ender Wiggin is probably not in bad shape, but athleticism is not the answer to most problems within the book. Intelligence, strategy, and (importantly) empathy are the keys to his success. He’s not popular, but he is respected, and amongst his closest friends, loved. And perhaps Ender’s most valuable skill is original thought. He sees the world around him in a different way than everyone else and while he feels supremely lonely through most of the story, he ultimately thrives because of it. Gee I can’t think of anything a high school boy might identify with in any of that hahah.

But perhaps the thing that stayed with me the most was not Ender’s trials at battle school or even against Mazer Rackham and The Buggers later on, it was Ender’s desk game. Of course I was into video games at that age (I still am at my current age), and some of what I thought were the coolest, most advanced games I’d ever seen where coming out during this period of my life. But none were anywhere close to the game Ender played. I used to try to imagine how you might even play such a game. Clearly not with a controller, because that would limit your moves, and Ender’s ability to engage with the game seemed limitless.

This was the type of game I always hoped that video games could be. The vision of video games that I still wish we could have (side note: I think we are WAY closer to this now that generative AI exists. It seems like it’s still being trialed in modern game dev, but I think once the workflow gets locked in, games are gonna EXPLODE!)

Fast forward to 2024 and there is quite a bit of context which I feel shaped my reread of this “modern” classic, though I think my opinion is largely unchanged. Let’s dig in.

First, I never realized before how old this story actually is. A short story entitled Ender’s Game appeared in an issue Analog Science Fiction and Fact all the way back in August of 1977. Of course the novel length adaptation came out in 1985, and then another version of the novel was released in 1991 though apparently this version only had minor edits (I believe this is the version I read both in 07/08 and today). Orson Scott Card’s conception of a computer game is even more fascinating in light of this revelation.

Second, it’s worth considering this book’s prominence in the genre of Science Fiction, and its importance in the world beyond. The novel took a Nebula award the year it came out, and Hugo Award in 1986. It appears on many “best novel” lists especially those centered around books for teens and young adults. It is also required reading for several ranks within the U.S. Marine Corps including Candidate/Midshipman.

Finally, we can begin to address what caused me to write this post in the first place: why was Ender’s Game banned? From the introduction written by the author in the 1991 edition, it seems that the book has been divisive from the start. Card writes:

“For one thing, the people that hated it really hated it. The attacks on the novel — and on me — were astonishing . . . Thus I began to realize that, as it is, Ender’s Game disturbs some people because it challenges their assumptions about reality . . . It is important to her {a particular critic} , and to others, to believe that children don’t actually think or speak the way children in Ender’s Game think and speak.” pg 19-20

He also writes:

“Yet I knew — I knew — that this was one of the truest things about Ender’s Game . . . Because never in my entire childhood did I feel like a child. I felt like a person all along — the same person that I am today. I never felt like I spoke childishly. I never felt that my emotions and desires were somehow less real than adult emotions and desires. And in writing Ender’s Game, I forced the audience to experience the lives of these children from that perspective — the perspective in which their feelings and decisions are just as real and important as any adult’s.” pg 20-21.

Despite such clearly strong reactions from certain readers, I wasn’t able to find much in the way of bans until 2012 (note: 4 years after I had initially read it in high school), when a middle school teacher got suspended in South Carolina for reading the book to his class. An aggrieved parent complained that the book was “pornographic” (one scene takes place in a male shower but nothing is described in a sexual manner). Ultimately, it was decided that the book would continue to be taught and the teacher received a slap on the wrist for not following proper procedure in getting the material approved ahead of time.

A second challenge came in 2014 at a middle school in Mesa County Colorado. This time, the offended parent reasoned that the material was not suitable for six-graders because it contained “swear words and passages about characters renouncing religion and killing each other.”

It is true. The kids swear, and Ender essentially murders at least two children (I’m not even sure where to start on religion in this book). However, I never felt as if the text glorifies this behavior (or violence in general). One of the primary antagonists, Ender’s brother Peter, exemplifies this type of glorification and it seems clear that readers are supposed to revile it as they do Peter. Ender’s whole arc centers around his empathy and his efforts to avoid violence. That he is unable to do so does raise questions about whether or not the novel actually condones violence (my take is that it does not), but whatever the answer is, it is more important that the question is raised.

There is one final bit of context that I could not wholly separate myself from during this reread, one which will require separation of art and artist in order to favor this book with a wholly positive review. Of course, I’m speaking of Orson Scott Card’s essay (published in 1990), The Hypocrites of Homosexuality originally published in Sunstone Magazine.

Ender’s Game does not deal with this subject matter, or exemplify Card’s opinions, in any way (directly or indirectly) that I could detect, and actually feels somewhat progressive, with a diverse cast of characters and its focus on empathy, and (towards the end) redemption.

But I think Duncan Sligh over at The George-Anne Media Group expresses my exact thoughts on the matter when they write:

“It’s difficult to accept that a novel focused so narrowly on the value of life could be written by someone who is unable to accept the sexual identity of millions of humans. It does not seem to add up mathematically, but that is the reality of this situation.” – Banned Books Week: “Ender’s Game” by Orson Scott Card Review

So, Give Ender’s Game a Read?

If you do, I don’t think you’ll regret it. The novel is quite successful in depicting children saving the universe, in getting the reader into their perspective, and showing them — apparently to the chagrin of many — as complicated personalities with desires and agency. There is an undeniable allure to Ender Wiggin, one which is obviously appealing to younger audiences who finally get to read a story about someone like themselves, but also for adults in that every adult was once a child, and never had a chance to read a book like this in their childhood.

Of course the novel’s themes surrounding empathy, war, violence and bullying are critical to its success, and Ender’s ability to out-think his enemies with both ruthless cunning and caring heart are qualities so worth emulating that the US Military looks to this book as a course in ethics.

Where the book may flag is perhaps that it commits too much to giving equal weight to each side of its argument, and may lead some to believe that it condones violence in a way which I never personally felt it did, but can see how you might get there.

That it has such mature subject matter, but is targeted towards a younger audience, seems to have people up in arms, as evidenced by the attempts at banning in 2012 and 2014.

There is a lot to unpack on this one, and it has as many thorns as roses. Personally, I feel that reading the book and formulating an opinion on said thorns is a worthwhile experience, even if that opinion is negative.

However, I also feel that life is too short to spend on bigots, so if the separation of this work from the opinion’s of its author in other arenas is not possible, I get it. Probably give this one a pass.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this one before? Does any of the added context I’ve provided change your thoughts on the book? Is children killing children a bridge too far? In what contexts might it be more palatable?

I think there’s a lot to unpack with this one. I hope you all will leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments. Looking forward to discussing this!

Until next time!

Revisiting Jackalope Wives After a Decade

I seem to be revisiting a lot of older works recently.

Assuredly there are some larger trends at play here — it seems like all creative industries are struggling right now (a ‘survive until 25’ mentality) and only taking risks on existing IPs and guaranteed successes — which has a dual effect of putting less new material into the market, and also requiring knowledge of past work in order to engage with present offerings.

I think there’s a bit of a compounding effect here which is a bit more personal in that my past blog offerings are starting to thin in comparison to my current output. I’m finding more and more that when talking about something new (or newish), I desire to reference something old (or oldish) for context, but cannot link to anything useful in my own work, and so I must (in some ways) go back to the beginning.

Jackalope Wives is not the beginning — Ursula Vernon (T. Kingfisher) had already debuted in 2008 and was winning awards by 2012 — but as they say in WoT, it was a beginning.

When Jackalope Wives was published in January of 2014, I would have been almost two years out of school and from what I can piece together from old emails, still attempting to put together some kind of life in publishing. My posts from that time are thin, but it seems to stem from being very active in other areas like writing articles at Amazing Stories, and work on some of my few freelance editing gigs.

In the larger world around me, the Sad & Rabid Puppies were again causing controversy with intolerant rhetoric and slate voting which seems to have bumped Jackalope Wives off the list of Hugo finalists for 2015.

I assume it was this controversy which brought the story to my attention way back when, but I can’t tell you when I got around to reading it or why I read that one as opposed to any of the other finalists (whether on the slate or off the slate). Apex Magazine loomed large in my literary diet at that time so perhaps it was simply convenience.

In any case, JW was my first Ursula Vernon story, and for no particular reason, my only Ursula Vernon story for quite some time. I remember thinking the story quite powerful, with an important theme and a clever use of metaphor with which to express its message.

Rereading the piece today, I would say those things are still true, and unfortunately still very relevant.

Some other features of the story which stood out to me upon this reread include its protagonist, Grandma Harken, and the sort of mythic feel of the prose.

Harken is blunt, intelligent, and quite energetic despite her advanced age. In an interview with the Los Angeles Public library (as T. Kingfisher) Vernon sites Terry Pratchett as a huge influence on her work (consider Kingfisher’s A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking and Pratchett’s Battle Bread), and Harken definitely has a bit of a Granny Weatherwax vibe, though Jackalope Wives is by no means a comedy.

Finally, Vernon’s prose are just a kind of satisfaction in themselves. Though it isn’t hard to put together what a Jackalope might be (portmanteau of jackrabbit and antelope), I’m sure very few are familiar with this creature plucked from the myths and legends of rural Wyoming (before reading this story at least). And yet we’re made to care deeply about the fate of these creatures in a relatively short span of words.

This is Vernon’s skill as a storyteller at work. We’re instantly engaged as if we’ve just leaned closer to better listen over the crackle of the campfire. Or, if we’re to lean fully into JW’s allusion to Rite of Spring in the opening, a bon fire.

Give Jackalope Wives a read?

Certainly! Vernon’s prose are compelling, thematic, and relevant even ten years after their original publication, elevating the sort of kitschy Wyoming myth of the Jackalope into a powerful (and empowering) impeachment.

Also, if you’re just getting into Vernon’s work, or their more recent offerings as T. Kingfisher, Jackalope Wives seems as great a starting place as any, already displaying much of the style and skill which has made them a household name in more recent years.

That’s all I have for us this week. Has anyone read this story? Anyone do a re-read recently? What’s a portmanteau of two animals you’d like to read a story about? I once did a speculative science project in middle school for which I combined a bird and a shark . . .

Anywho, leave your thoughts in the comments! Can’t wait to discuss this one with all of you!

My First Fossil Hunt: Calvert Cliffs, Cove Point

Fossil identification guide with various shark's teeth matched with drawings

Last Saturday (9/7/2024), just before we celebrated the 29th anniversary of The Lost World: Jurassic Park (novel), I went on my first ever fossil hunt!

I didn’t actually plan for all of this to happen around the same time, and I suppose the two events are not actually that related considering the types of fossils I was able to find (more on that later), but it does kinda feel like the weekend had a bit of a theme.

In any case, if we remember all the way back to this most recent #JurassicJune, I reviewed a book called Remnants of Ancient Life for #DinosaurDay 2024. In this post I mentioned that many of the discoveries and much of the science talked about within the book were taking place “in my backyard” so to speak, and naturally I was pretty pumped about it all and curious, what if any little field trips I could make.

After a little googling, I found out that you can actually book a little expedition with a guide and fellow fossil hunters over along the Calvert Cliffs at Cove Point. I use the term expedition loosely, it was really just a little stroll along the beach near a lighthouse, but there were really fossils there, and I came home with a sandwich bag full of them.

Shot of the ocean with Calvert Cliffs in the background. Can really see the different layers of strata representing different eras of geological time.

RoAL describes the cliffs as: ” . . . a cross section of the Miocene sediments that slid into the bay. As sea levels fell, waves, tides, and storms exposed the sediments at the western edge of the Chesapeake Bay. Along a 24-mile-long portion of the coast of Maryland, this exposure takes the form of a cliff as much as a hundred feet high.”

What this means, is that you won’t find any dinosaur fossils on the beach. Our guide explained — much to the chagrin of a six-year-old on the tour (and myself if I’m honest) — that the Miocene Era was a period between 23 and 5 million years ago and that the sediments we would encounter were specifically dated around 6 million years ago. Since dinosaurs “ruled the earth” between 243 – 66 million years ago, they would be much deeper in the rock.

In any case, there would still be lots of interesting things to find, like sea creatures. Lots of sea creatures.

Six fossilized stingray teeth on a checkered table cloth.

Mostly, I found stingray teeth. But with the help of the guide, I brought home some teeth from lemon sharks, hammerhead sharks, gray sharks, sand tiger sharks, and a big snaggletooth shark. Also, some prehistoric coral.

A pretty good haul all things considered (and it being my first time out), but it quickly became apparent that the prize we were all seeking was the elusive Megalodon tooth. At least two people in the group found one. Some others found ancient crocodile teeth, and even some ancient dolphin teeth.

Fun fact: Some sharks lose up to 35,000 teeth in their lifetime.

So that’s probably why there are so many fossils of them.

Would I Fossil Hunt Again?

Absolutely! It ended up being a really fun time, and while I know I won’t make any earth shattering discoveries (although some years see up to four new species discovered along the cliffs), I’m still proud of my little bag of stingray teeth, and I’ve learned a whole lot in the process of finding them.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone else been fossil hunting before? Any cool finds? Leave your thoughts in the comments! Also, here’s a pic of the Cove Point Lighthouse. I think you can stay there which is kinda neat.

Cove Point Lighthouse, Calvert County Maryland

Revisiting Crichton’s Lost World After 29 Years

Today, September 8th 2024 will mark 29 years since the novel The Lost World: Jurassic Park was published back in 1995. By this point in the middle of the nineties, Michael Crichton had already become a household name from the massive success of his original Jurassic Park novel (1990), as well as the iconic movie adaptation directed by Stephen Spielberg also titled Jurassic Park (1993).

Though perhaps not quite as successful as the original, The Lost World still held down an impressive 8 weeks on the best seller list (vs the original novel’s 12 weeks), and was subsequently turned into another iconic film.

Great. But by Now, Isn’t it Just Some Old Fossil?

Obviously, a lot has happened in almost 30 years since this book hit the shelves. We’ve experienced a third ‘Jurassic Park‘ film, as well a series reboot, Jurassic World, which also had a sequel, and a third movie which purportedly closed out the Jurassic franchise with Jurassic World Dominion.

(Spoiler: A fourth movie Jurassic World: Rebirth will release July 2nd 2025. Check Variety for the deets on what we know so far about the new JW film .

Of course much has changed in our understanding of paleontology as well. For example, Prehistoric Planet: Freshwater shows crowd favorite, the terrifying Velociraptor, as a more accurate chicken-sized pack hunter with feathers as opposed to the six-foot scaled and tiger-striped monstrosities we read about in this sequel (which are probably more accurate to the Utah Raptor, written about in Robert Bakker’s Raptor Red.

There is perhaps a legitimate argument to be made that, given all that has passed since this book came out — both in the fictive world of the franchise, and the real world of paleontology. Is this old fossil even relevant in 2024?

“The essence of verification is multiple lines of reasoning that converge at a single point”

To answer that, perhaps it would be good to discuss a few things, some good, others bad, which I experienced while reading this classic.

The Good

Despite any arguments of this book having ‘aged’, Crichton is still an incredibly engaging story teller. His approach is similar to what I noted in the original novel, with a kind of slow build in which the main characters solve a mystery, the solution to which sets the real action of the story in motion (this seems to be a common trope for Crichton). Perhaps this mode is too slow for modern readers, but I hardly noticed it myself.

Then of course there are the dinosaurs themselves. Accurate or not, they are COMPELLING. We see many favorites through the course of this novel like Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Velociraptor; Compsognathus (compy) and Triceratops . Pachycephalosaurus was (I think) a new comer that was not in the first novel. So was Carnotaurus.

The Interesting

The inclusion of Carnotaurus was especially interesting as it was given some adaptations which I believe there is probably zero scientific basis for, in 1995 or today. If you’ve watched the Indominus Rex become essentially transparent in Jurassic World, it seems that was an idea for which the foundations were laid in this book (though interestingly not in The Lost World movie).

This poetic license stands out even more considering Crichton appears to have tried to correct some of the imagination he displayed in his original novel surrounding T-Rex visual acuity. There is a scene in which the more villainous characters in the novel visit a T-Rex nest and are discovered by the tyrant lizards. The characters stand still, attempting the trick Alan Grant accomplished at the park. One is eaten almost immediately and the rest must flee for their lives. Of course Malcom has a quip about reading bad science, but still the entire thing seemed odd.

Another interesting part of this book was Dr. Levine, a sort of impatient rich/arrogant scientist who they embark on their journey to rescue in the first place. He’s a pretty large part of the story, and to my knowledge, just not in the movie at all. I was not expecting this.

Also, there is a scene in which a group of velociraptors hunt some triceratops and in particular, there is a briefly described fight between an individual of each species. It has me thinking about the Fighting Dinosaurs Fossil found in the Djadokhta Formation in Mongolia. That prehistoric battle took place between a velociraptor, and a Protoceratops, but its discovery in 1971 would have meant that it was probably a pretty well known fossil by the time Crichton’s book was written. The scene functions on a practical level to advance certain points of the plot, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the way it unfolds was a small homage to this famous fossil.

The Bad

Despite what I’ve written above, and my ability to look aside when almost any egregious portion of the text rears its head — due to my love of the subject matter and firmly framed rose-colored glasses — a couple pills in this book were still a bit hard to swallow.

First up, I didn’t really feel like Malcom’s survival from book one was explained satisfactorily. It’s essentially: News of Malcom’s treatment was so suppressed and kept quiet that many assumed, and reported, that he was dead . . . and that’s pretty much all there is to say about it. Felt a bit cheap.

My second quibble is equally subjective. Reading Easy Go, and even the first JP novel, you get the sense that Crichton’s female characters, and modern expectations of female characters, don’t really align. The Lost World felt like Crichton was trying to close that gap all at once.

Sarah Harding is ultra- strong, attractive, independent, and feminist. In some scenes she literally carries Malcom around like a rag doll. It’s all very “Action Girl” and while Mary Sue type characters like this are not inherently bad, Harding’s characterization in TLW generally left me feeling like Crichton still did not understand the assignment.

In Easy Go, the MC named Pierce judges the love interest, Lisa, as competent because she lights a cigarette “like a man.” In TWL it felt to me like Crichton was attempting to write a woman of importance into his story, but (still) only qualifying that importance by what she could do “like a man.”

Give ‘The Lost World’ a read?

Ultimately, I would say yes. There may be some inaccuracies in paleontology, and the pacing and characterization of his female lead may present some problems for modern readers, but the thrill of the being on an island in the presence of dinosaurs (even if some are trying to eat you), still feels quite potent in this novel.

Finally, I’ll leave you with a quote from Malcom (always Malcom) which stood out to me as being incredibly relevant to today despite having been written nearly 30 years ago:

“. . . if the notion of life at the edge of chaos is true, then major change pushes animals closer to the edge. It destabilizes all sorts of behavior. And when the environment goes back to normal, it’s not really a return to normal. In evolutionary terms, it’s another big change, and it’s just too much to keep up with . . .” pg 193.

Ooof. If that isn’t the most post-covid mood, then I don’t know what is hahah.

That’s all I have today. Has anyone read this one before? What’s your favorite dinosaur!? Please let me know in the comments. I’m looking forward to talking about this one!

Hugo Snub? The Power Of ‘Chain Gang All Stars’

This book really took me by surprise.

I pick up a lot of books because of the hype behind them. Often, that hype is involved with a Hugo nomination (or win!), and I’m generally curious to find out if I agree or disagree with the opinion of that segment of the fandom. Is the hype valid, or overblown? Sometimes I’m surprised with what I find.

But with Chain Gang All Stars I never had the chance to make that comparison. Somehow, it didn’t make the top five (hugo finalists). I’m genuinely at a loss.

Nerds of a Feather calls the book a “beloved outsider . . . incredible, powerful . . . it was never going to be a real Hugo contender.” – Nerds of a Feather: Adri and Joe Talk About Books: 2024 Hugo Award Finalists

Why?

They comment that the book is a “challenging read” because of “the brutality of the subject matter”. Is that any different than Riot baby, or Ring Shout? I would consider R.F. Kuang’s The Poppy War to have pretty brutal subject matter. The Broken Earth series by N.K. Jemisin is a similarly challenging read, and it took three back-to-back Hugo wins.

I should probably mention here that Nerds of a Feather DID nominate Chain Gang (according to the post), and my gripe is not really with them anyway. In all honesty I’m not really sure who my gripe is with here; I’m kind of yelling at clouds.

In any case, FOR ME, Chain Gang All Stars was an excellent read. One which had me (metaphorically) biting my nails throughout, and giving a weirdly depressed yet satisfied little slump-sigh when I finished (you know this move). Ooof.

Without going into summary, the essential premise is that in a kind of near-future police state, we’ve brought back gladiator fights. Prisoners can opt into the Criminal Action Penal Entertainment (CAPE) program and if they survive for three years, they will have won their freedom. They earn BloodPoints for kills, and can use them to upgrade weapons and living conditions for themselves or other members of their “chain”, which is loosely a team though (typically) there is not much loyalty between teammates who can and do kill each other for even the slightest offense.

All this is watched by millions at home on their TVs (I forget what they are called in-world) which in this setting are holographic and more like VR without goggles, than the 2D experiences we have today.

Obviously I don’t love the future that’s presented here, but I love all of the thought and detail that went into creating it. As futures go, it feels attainable, though I hope we never do.

Chain Gang also has a surprisingly deep and varied cast of characters. Given how often they die, perhaps this was a necessary evil, but what struck me about it is how deftly the author is able to build them up in with a line, a short footnote, or in some cases just a very evocative nickname.

For the characters we get to spend more time with, their trauma runs deep. There’s a lot to feel here but it never becomes artificial or contrived. There is a lot of pain in this book, and while readers may not have experienced anything similar before, it’s somehow “true” to whatever kinds of pain we have felt, and so we can relate.

The last thing I thought was somewhat unique, and interesting, which I felt really affected the overall experience of the book was the footnotes (which are apparently not in the audio version so get a print copy of this one!). This might seem a bit mundane, but the content of these notes certainly was not. Often they contained little bits of history regarding legal statutes, or case rulings. Sometimes they were opinions and other times heartfelt eulogies. In most cases, the information provided was surprising, and as I think back on what I’ve read, it’s the information in these notes which has me questioning things.

It has certainly brought on a new awareness of things, which to my mind, is one of the best things about reading and something only the best books can achieve.

Give Chain Gang All Stars a read?

An enthusiastic yes. I really can’t parse why this book isn’t being talked about more. In any case, Chain Gang All Stars is certainly a challenging read, but one well worth the mental and emotional effort. Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah is a master of his craft, able to evoke entire histories with a single nick name. So compelling is his writing, that the frequent use of footnotes — redolent of the lifeless tomes of academia — is actually a feature of his work, and indeed where much of the core effect of the book can be found.

Please give this one a read!

That’s all I have this week. Has anyone read this one yet? What did you find most shocking? Leave your thoughts in the comments. I’m looking forward to chatting about this one!

See you next time!

Final Blaugust (2024) Post: 6 Quotes I Love

I can’t really say that I’m someone who thinks about quotes often, or uses them in my daily life at all. But sometimes a string of words will seem to capture a philosophy or way of thinking (or just something you’re already doing) so explicitly that you can’t help but remember them.

The first two of these I’ve had in the back of my mind for a while, the next three I’ve only recently discovered. The last is just a gem which lives in my mind rent free, and usually makes me smile or laugh every time I think about it. Enjoy! . . .

“Be the change you wish to see in the world”

I’m explicitly NOT attributing this one because it seems like there’s some debate as to where it actually came from (most think Mahatma Gandhi but I’m seeing evidence for a teacher named Arleen Laurence )

For me, the original author of the quote is not as important, perhaps, as its messaging and how it came into my life. This quote came to me in college by way of my fraternity. I think it’s fair to say that college is a formative period in many people’s lives — a time for searching out and testing different ideals and ways of being — though I wouldn’t say many think of it that way while it’s happening.

In any case, through all the classes, rehearsals, events, concerts and parties, it feels like a bit of a crap shoot what things stay with you, but for whatever reason, this did. And while I don’t often think about it explicitly, I would say it is really at the core of a lot of how I live my life. I will also admit that I don’t always live up to this ideal, but I think it’s important at least to try.

“There’s Always Another Secret” – Kelsier, Mistborn

The full quote comes from the fifth chapter of the first Mistborn book (pg 84). Kelsier has just retrieved a bottle of wine from a hidden drawer and Dockson exclaims that he thought he had found all of the hidden drawers. Kelsier answers that Dockson had and that one of the drawers he found also had a false back. According to Kelsier:

“The trick is to never stop looking. There’s always another secret.”

I love how this has become something of a tagline for the Cosmere and really anything that Brandon Sanderson writes.

In my own fiction writing, I think of it as something of a north star, a reminder of the types of stories I enjoy reading, and a guide to the types of stories I hope to be able to write. I’ll be the first to admit that I rarely (if even ever) am able to achieve this. But as the first part of the quote implies, the trick is that I don’t stop trying.

“You are not crazy. You are just ready to change.” – Nnedi Okorafor

I’ve been a Nnedi Okorafor fan for quite a while now, so I was delighted to see her quoted at the front of a chapter in Jane McGonigal’s Imaginable. It’s clear that Nnedi spends a lot of time thinking and writing about the future, so to see her quoted in a book about thinking about the future just seemed too perfect.

As for the quote itself, I love how reassuring it is. And how it has a bit of destiny about it. The way you feel now is not forever. It’s still a bit new to me so I’m sure I’ll have more to take away from it . . . in the future.

“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck where you don’t belong” – Mandy Hale, author

Mandy Hale is a new name to me (also quoted in Imagineable). Some googling reveals her to be something of a blogging icon, and a champion for single women. A bit outside my demographic, but this quote still resonated with me deeply.

Afterall, who hasn’t felt stuck at some point in their life? Who doesn’t know this pain?

I view this quote as something of an appeal. Keep going. When growth happens — when change happens — it is hard, but being something you’re not is always harder.

“Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried when really you’ve been planted.” – Christine Caine

Christine Caine is also a new name to me (Imaginable is really just FULL of quotes). She has written MANY books about her faith in God, and works with a nonprofit, The A21 Campaign, to combat human trafficking. It seems she was raised Greek Orthodox. As an on-again-off-again practitioner of Russian Orthodoxy, I’m curious if her books are written through an Orthodox lens, or if she has moved away from it and is preaching something more unique to herself. I don’t see many books about Orthodoxy in popular culture so I’d say my interest is somewhat piqued.

Whatever the case may be, this quote stood out to me as another kind of reassurance (or perhaps a kind of faith). That we often can’t see how our struggles are shaping us. How they may just be the very thing which leads to our success.

“No man wants to be a coward in front of a cheese.” – Terry Pratchett

We’ve read a lot of hard hitting and heavy quotes in this post, so I thought it was time for a little fun. I also will admit that when I read the prompt which asked, “What is your favorite Quote/s and why?”, this was the quote that came to mind first.

I don’t think I could have ever imagined this sequence of words being strung together, but I also don’t think I can think of any string of words which contains more truth. Who could live with the shame?! It’s a maxim and a guide for writing humor all in one! Thank you Sir Terry. Thank you.

Simply incredible . . .

The End

Well that’s all I have for this post. Thanks for reading all the way through! What are some of your favorite quotes? Leave em in the comments!

See you next time!