Empathy

A couple weeks back, the MacNeil Lehrer News Hour ran a story about Bringing Babies to the Classroom -- not to teach the babies how to read and write, but to teach grade school students, through their interaction with babies, to empathize with others. 

I found this a very interesting report -- partly because of the unique approach to the problem of teasing and bullying, but mostly because of the revelation that empathy is a skill like any other: although we are born with the ability to empathize, that tendency must be reinforced, practiced, and honed.  Otherwise it will be expressed poorly, if at all.

While watching the news report that evening, I had one of those light bulb moments, when it occurred to me that reading fiction might accomplish the same thing that bringing babies into the classroom does. 

After all, as a writer I have put myself in the head of characters from very different worlds -- and in so doing, have come to better understand (I think) alternative world views and psychological/emotional frameworks.

As a reader I have wandered across countries and through time, surviving the dustbowl as a migrant farm worker, laboring on the banana plantations of South America, witnessing a woman tortured and burned for witchcraft, solving murder mysteries in a medieval monastery, building cathedrals in Medieval England and Spain. . .

The first edition of One Hundred Years
of Solitude

The list goes on and on. 

Has all this reading honed my skills at empathy?

Or is my thirst for the experience of empathy one of the things that drives me to read?

Empathy, as defined by the ever-reliable Wikipedia, is the capacity to recognize emotions being experienced by another.  The concept was first elaborated by 19th century German philosophers. Although the idea of empathy has been around for a while, exactly how it works, and why, is not well understood.

Some evolutionary biologists consider the capacity for empathy a prerequisite for positive social interactions and altruistic behavior.

Most recently, empathy has become a central focus of Social and Emotional Learning (SEL) programs in schools across the United States -- such as the one covered by MacNeil Lehrer -- that have significantly improved students' social and emotional competencies. 

It turns out I'm not the first person to suspect novels also help us learn empathy.  In fact, this idea had apparently gained wide acceptance until Susan Keen shook the foundations of the assumption with her 2007 book Empathy and the Novel. 

Keen did not go so far as to claim novels do not inspire empathy; she simply pointed out the uncomfortable truth that no studies had been done to test this idea, and therefore no data existed to support it. 

Belli's memoir opens with a riveting
scene in which we learn what it is like
to be a young Nicaraguan woman
learning how to fire an AK47.

Psychologists and social biologists have taken up the challenge set forth by Keen, and now studies are being published that indicate a link between novels and empathy. Even light weight, sheer-entertainment-style fantasy such as Harry Potter and the Twilight series appears to teach young readers something about how to relate to the Other. 

While this is all very compelling, there remains a lot of work to be done, both in terms of understanding where empathy comes from and why it is important for social creatures like us.

We can't really do a rigorous scientific study of the relationship between novels and empathy on Heroines of Fantasy.  But I thought it would be interesting to collect some anecdotal evidence from our readers and followers. 

So here are some questions I have for you:

What stories you have read (or written) that have helped  you empathize with the Other?

What do you think is the relationship between fiction, empathy, and positive social interaction? 

Two questions that give us a lot to chew on, I know.  But we've got a week to think and talk about it.  I'm looking forward to seeing your comments!

The caption for this photo, taken from The Guardian, reads
"in touch with their inner vampires".  Perhaps they are, but
does this make Meyer's fans better mortals as well?

posted by Karin Rita Gastreich

Dirty Little Secrets

I have a confession to make: I love skipping ahead to the ending.

When I voice this aloud to a group of readers and writers, they gasp! They sigh! They roll their eyes in despair. I’m not a reader, I’m a cheater. An “end-of-book-looker-atter,” as one of my best friends tells me. I am a pariah, to be scorned and shunned from the reading community.

Still, I can’t help myself. Sometimes I peek at the ending because I’m just not invested in the story, and I want to know how everything wraps up so I can decide if I want to keep reading or just shuck it and move on to the next book. Other times, I read ahead because the book is so good that I’m in a hurry to find out what happens. And when reading the epic fantasy tomes I so adore, I will not only read the end before its time, I will actually read the book out of order, following the storyline of one point of view character all the way through to the end before going back to pick up another point of view character and do the same. I read The Two Towers this way the first time. The party separated; I followed Sam and Frodo through to Gondor, then went back and picked up again at Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli’s cross-country marathon. I read the whole book, just not in the order Tolkien intended.

I think the differences of opinion about peeking at the ending of books are purely philosophical, and have a lot to do with the values and interests of the reader. For some, the end justifies the means. The reader pushes through to get to the end because finding out how everything wraps up and ties together (or not) is the reward. I am the opposite. The journey—getting to know what makes the characters tick, what drives them, the pitfalls and successes they find along the way—that’s the best part. The ending should come as a necessary and appropriate conclusion to that journey, a fitting and expected outcome based on all that came before. Thus, knowing the ending in advance sometimes makes that journey even more satisfying to read, as I can see the groundwork being laid, the plans in motion, and know that everything will come together in the end.

Yes, I am justifying my naughty reading behavior. However, in my defense, I actually do go back and reread the book after peeking at the ending, and sometimes I am even pleasantly surprised to discover that the end still manages to defy my expectations. The best example of this I can recall is Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s wonderful novel 100 Years of Solitude. My AP English teacher during my senior year in high school told us all that this book had the best ending of any novel he’d ever read. Naturally, I flipped to the end and read the last few pages immediately—and was completely confused and uninspired. So it was with tremendous shock and surprise that I discovered, when I came to the ending in due course, that not only did everything make sense, the conclusion was masterfully written, with depth and emotion that sounded to my core. I will never forget that feeling, that realization that reading the words out of turn doesn’t necessarily give away all of the answers, that context is more important and more powerful than any string of words on a page.

I’ve never again been able to replicate that awe-inspiring response to the conclusion of a novel. Perhaps one of the reasons I still cheat and flip to the end is because I want to have that experience again. Regardless, one thing is for certain: I will never change my evil ways. I will peek, and peek, and peek again, because I just can’t help myself.

Your turn now: what’s your dirty little reading secret? Do you skim? Corner the pages? Skip the boring parts? Do you HAVE to finish a book, no matter how much you hate it, or do you throw the book against the wall out of frustration and move on? Tell all!

Kim Vandervort

Norwescon, Seattle

Mark's Musings on his first Norwescon...

I just arrived back from three days in Seattle. I found it somewhat ironic that the city enjoyed the three nicest days of the year during a time when so many people spent all their waking hours indoors, breathing each other's exhaust and geeking out over fanboy minutia. The weather was truly amazing; the con, for me, was a mixed bag of engagement and intimidation.

I have to confess I was not as prepared as I needed to be to deal with the size of the whole affair, the people crush, and the direction some of the panels I did or attended took. Maybe I'm wrong, but I experienced a little 'on the outside looking in' thing going on that started on Thursday and never really left me until my second glass of wine at the Baen party on Saturday night. By that time I'd had my fill of hits and misses. I stayed long enough to score a few books, shake a few hands listen to Gardner Dozios rumble through a couple of stories. In the end, the wine settled things out as a draw. I had a good time, but I didn't do anything brazenly noticable. At times for me the place exuded inhibitions and pretensions and I fell prey to a little doubt. I either needed more wine or some of my peeps--both would have been better. Tom Vandenberg, my cover artist and friend, and a guy fast becoming our go to inhouse guy, showed up Friday night and we had a good time taking in all the freakishness. This was a good first foray for both of us, and next year we both want to be more of a presence with books and art. The stuff that was there wasn't really all that impressive. Tom's covers would get a nice reaction.

Next year we are going to melt the place...

Some thoughts:

I finally learned the proper way to pronounce Shannara (Shan-ara) from the man himself. Terry Brooks gave us a nice hour about the history of his writing career. I've read his stuff. I still have my orginal copy of Sword, and I still the copy of Lin Carter's The Year's Best Fantasy where he lambasts Brooks for such an overt lifting. Funny, didn't seem to hurt Terry's career. Some of the same sort of reaction has been leveled at Paolini with much the same results, at least initially. Meh.

Don't get me wrong. I loved listening to him. He was engaging, generous, funny, and in total control of the moment from the start. Thirty plus years and 20 million sales can do a lot for a man's confidence! While I don't consider myself a huge fan anymore, it was still a lot of fun to shake his hand and observe him at work. Nice human.

I also got a chance to listen to Catharine Asaro's Q&A. And again the control and confidence impressed me. And yet she took great care to be ingratiating and genuine.

My panels somewhat disappointed me because the first one caught me little off guard with the direction it took soon after we started. I assumed we were going to look at how fiction sometime falls prey to bigotry through ignorance, but it quickly swerved into an examination of cultural integrity and how some authors misuse those subtle cues and end up insulting certain groups. I blame myself here, not my panel members, for they did not know me and were women of ethnicity and quite passionate. The moments for twenty odd people were dominated by handful of folks--all of whom spoke from an social or cultural experience that your WASPy blogger could not share.

It's not that I disagreed with their sentiments. I got it and rallied not too lamely to add what I could. But in the end I kept coming back to the same thought: raise consciousness all you want to, but make sure you keep it in the proper context.  Yes, authors need to do their homework, but being PC forces the debate out of context. Read your Bradbury, please. For me, it all boiled down to a simple thought: if it's obviously troubling, it's probably just bad writing or intentional and it will sink under the weight of its own ignorance. And if it isn't intentional, then the writer is just being lazy, and he needs to read his Orwell or risk getting slapped and then ignored.  I felt like I let the topic down a little, but I would have liked to have kept it more literary rather than sociological. My apologies to anyone who was there and reads this and feels like I missed the point totally. Still something of a newbie here. Be nice.

The second panel was much more relaxed and fun, and I felt like I made the most of my moments. For some reason, folks decided to focus on poor Thomas Covenant and went on a collective rant that I think missed the point totally. I actually called a time out to offer some defense for the poor old leper. We were debating the difference between 'rogue' and 'anti-hero'. Quite a few folks wanted to dismiss him as nothing more than an a**hole because of the early rape scene. Now, it has been twenty years since I tried to gut through those first three Donaldson tomes (I never got through all of them. Too over-written for me), but I actually think that scene is huge because it was the spasmodic reaction to the sudden regenerational effect of the Land, and the depth of that violence sets the tone for his booklong denial. Sure, it gets trite real fast, but I think Donaldson intended to present someone diametrically opposed to Aragorn's epic goodness. This was the late 70's--the time of The Silmarillion and Bakshi's film, the advent of the rise of the genre and all those schlocky copies (see above). In any event it must be pretty obvious that this hour passed much more quickly than the first panel. Time really does fly when you are having fun.

The workshop panels were a mixture of intimidating and envigorating for me. I found myself in with some folks who were veterans of the activity and really knew the language. I found myself playing the role of the general encourager at times because some of the folks seemed to really pick over the material--almost as if they needed to assert their skill in some way. I got that sense all through the weekend: there were some who seemed to be trying too hard.  Now, having said that, the workshop moments were truly positive and helpful to the writers. I really liked some of the characters they presented. Most of my questions dealt with the worlds those characters inhabited. I didn't go into frantic detail about horsey stuff or armor stuff or whatever. As a result, I felt like some of my comments might not have jibed well with others, but that doesn't make them invalid. I still felt useful. A little...

Some people I met:

Tina Connolly, Ironskin (Tor), was an absolute gem of a woman, sharp, generous and highly skilled. Working with her on the workshop panel was great and talking with her at the Baen party really helped me get a grip on the totality of my experience.

Catharine Asaro is a multi-faceted, compelling personality. She held the room for an hour, and it was like we were at Panera having a bun and coffee. I listened to her warm-up stuff before her music thing. Ok.

Kate Marshall, works as an editor for a local online zine. Again, gracious, SMART and talented. We did a critque together and chatted at the party as well.

Gardner...I think I referred to him as an overweight Kembril in a facebook post. Sorry, sir! He ROCKED. The man can hold a room, an auditorium, a ballroom...awesome.

I listened to Cat Rambo and Carol Berg read. Very nice. I think my stuff is different. I chose not to read in the end. I have no excuse other than I just wasn't feeling it. I've been away from Poets now for awhile, and I don't think I was handling the idea of reading in such close quarters very well. The room was small and the first one in the hall where all the panels took place. Everytime I looked at possible passages, all I saw were flaws. Of course, that was fear talking. All of the writers I listened to had allies in the room. I felt pretty much alone at that point. I flinched and let it get to me. Plus, some of my earlier experiences had me a little sour on the whole drama, and I just wasn't ready. I missed my HRB family. That won't happen again. Next year I will know what to expect, and if the con lets me have another go I'll brazen it out.

The next generation of publishing panel dealt with small presses. Patrick Swenson and the rest of the panelist did a great job reaffirming the role of and need for such business models. Eric Reynolds is doing the right thing, and I believe it is going to pay off in the end. The industry is in peril of turning itself into a caricature of art. There is just too much sameness out there--a whole pack of dogs trying to chew on the same bone. It reminds me of the silliness of television news these days. Quick stories for ratings; quick sales for profit. Where quality falls in that scenario, and what it means to ART, leads me down a dark path I'd rather not walk...

So, in the end I would say my experience was a qualified success. The con is GREAT with something for everyone. It has a long history and supports local writers. I will be back.

Mark

ps: sorry about the shoddy editing here. I got in late! Happy reading! King's Gambit comes out in May! Conquest in KC with my HRB family!

pps, addendum...whatever...

I just wanted to add how impressed I was with the overall organization of the con. The staff at Norwescon were outstanding, considerate and continually demonstrated their devotion to our genre. There really was something for everyone. Tom met up with his KC Klingons, and I saw flags of many stripes flying proudly. Well done Norwescon family! Next year I hope to rise to the same level of professionalism and commitment.

M

What it means to be a 'Beta'

    Hello folks, Mark here! Today I would like to introduce a dear friend and colleague, Jessica Carter.  Jessica teaches Spanish at our school and was one of my first readers. Jessica heads a book club in town, and I thought it might be nice to get a fan's point of view about what they look for in their reading choices, what it is like to be a first line audience and the joy (or curse) of developing a unique relationship with literary artists. Jessica has read practically every word I have written in my Pevana stories. She has been a great sounding board, critic, fan and friend for many years now. She has seen every draft from earliest ramblings to finished product. And despite the egregious errors in those early drafts, she never lost patience with me.  She and a few others constitute my first audience, and for that they have my eternal thanks. Some of the things she says below caught me off guard, made me blush, and reminded me yet again about the sacred responsibility the story-teller has towards his audience.

     Ladies and gentleman, Jessica Carter.

 

 

 What it means to be a beta...

 

I grew up as the middle child of homesteaders who were doing the whole hippie “back to the land” thing in the 1970’s. We lived 20 miles from the nearest town (population 890) and our closest neighbors were more than a mile away.  Living in the middle of nowhere without electricity lead to adventures that would make any Pippi Longstocking wanna-be jealous. I have incredible memories of those days, and my brothers and I had more fantastic experiences than any other kids we went to school with. Being an advanced reader brought me right back to those halcyon days of exploration and adventure because the two experiences share so much in the sense of new wonders,  life changing moments, and scenes that alter how you see the world around you.

I remember one time my brothers and I came across a crater in the forest with a fallen redwood tree embedded in its walls. We spent weeks pretending that it was a ruby mine, and every time we dug up a new chunk of the scarlet wood we imagined it was a huge, priceless gem we added to our treasure chest. As a reader I was transported back to that ruby mine of my childhood. Each time I read a new version of Mark’s draft I would come across a new ruby or two that I added to my treasure chest of images he had created in my mind. I would open the text thinking I knew what it held, thinking it would be familiar and then I would find a new metaphor shining in the words, or I would reread a scene that he had polished into something new and wondrous. Each rewrite of the poetry would reveal a new facet of emotion that caused me to examine my own thoughts as if under a jeweler’s loupe.

Since our land was located in Western Oregon, rain was abundant and rivers, streams, and lakes were everywhere. Again, as I read and reread drafts of Mark’s works, these aspects echoed back from my past. Every single hot day of the summer we kids would swim in the river near our house.  One of my first big moments as a kid was the time when I finally swam all the way across the river. It required endurance, and when I hit the current in the middle I had to fight extra hard to get through it without being swept downstream. The very first draft of an author’s work is similar. It can be a challenge to sort through the characters, and you might get swept up in parts of the plot, but you keep reading until you work through the first draft and the sense of accomplishment for yourself and for the author is elating. Once you conquer the first draft, you can spend your time exploring subsequent versions. Once I crossed the river, I would swim it daily. On days I didn’t attempt a crossing I would put on a snorkel and mask and examine the life under the surface, or I’d jump into the white water section and ride the rapids down to the calm pools of the swimming hole. After I completed a first reading of any of Mark’s works, I could spend time exploring the depths of his images or get swept away by new action sequences. Examining and watching a specific character was like exploring a unique rock found on the bottom of the river. Instead of examining beautiful mineral striations or crazy shapes carved by the river’s current, I would explore a character’s motivations and thoughts; all those things that set him or her apart and made that individual interesting.

Hollywood seems to be the antithesis of homesteading, but I have to admit that today I am a total sucker for the trashy tabloids that tout the daily minutiae of celebrity life. I have no desire to live in the big city or live the flashy lifestyle that I read about in Star and People, but sometimes I enjoy vicariously the experiences that million dollar salaries can buy. Being an advance reader holds some of that same exclusivity and VIP status those movie stars, sports icons and other celebs are granted. When I am handed a copy of a text that no one else has seen, it feels like I am going up to the velvet ropes of a club opening ,and the bouncer lets me enter when all others have to stand in line envious of my good fortune. I get to enjoy the newest thoughts, poetry, and word magic woven by the author and very few other lucky souls are granted such an opportunity.

Another element of Hollywood that aligns with the life of an advance reader is the focus on change. To keep in the press if you are a celebrity, you must constantly push the envelope, do something wacky or weird, or in some other way completely alter who you are or what you do. As an advance reader I get swept up in that same fluidity. When you read from draft to draft things are constantly in flux. Characters change their opinions, their motivations, sometimes their appearance.  From day to day in the world of the stars, I don’t know if Britney Spears is going to be blonde or brunette, if Taylor Swift is going to be writing a song about her most recent breakup, or whose marriage is imploding. From draft to draft in the world of Pevana, I don’t know if Talyior’s reasons for actions have changed, if Donari’s physical appearance is altered, or if Roderran has planned some sort of dramatic dictatorial action that will wipe out entire towns.

As far removed as the hippie lifestyle and the hip-hop lifestyle are from each other, they still both have aspects that embody the privileges enjoyed by an advance reader. I am so glad that I grew up with the alternative lifestyle my parents provided me, and I guiltily devour trashy magazines today that have nothing in common with my all natural upbringing, yet both ends of that spectrum are touched upon when I read for Mark. My sense of adventure and exploration is reawakened when I get a new draft, but at the same time, my current events inspired ADHD is satisfied as I see new plotlines develop and unexpected events unfold. Not everyone can be fortunate enough to know a real, live author and that is too bad because there is nothing like the experience of watching a new work grow. I look forward to immersing myself in Mark’s next work and exploring the world under the surface while keeping current on changes he makes as he goes through the process.

Old Hobbit, New Hobbit

This post was inspired, somewhat tangentially, by my post Old Pope, New Pope on the blog for Eolyn. 

I wasn't really sure why my musings over the election of Pope Francis have led me to discuss the film interpretation of Tolkien's classic story The Hobbit.  There doesn't seem to be much of a connection there, except maybe that Tolkien was Catholic. He even once described his epic masterpiece The Lord of the Rings as a "fundamentally religious and Catholic work" (Faith and Fantasy: Tolkien the Catholic).

But beyond that, why the appearance Pope Francis would have reminded me of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey was a mystery to me, until a review of a couple of salient images helped solve the puzzle.

To show you what I mean, I give you this image from the balcony of St. Peter's on March 13, 2013:

And this image from the publicity campaign for the first installment of Peter Jackson's The Hobbit trilogy:

Does anyone see what these two images have in common?  What, pray tell, is missing from both? 

Anyone? Anyone? Beuhler?

I think you get the point.  And if you don't, that's okay.  Just keep reading. 

I want to apologize up front to all of you who are avid fans of the movie The Hobbit.  It's not my intention to detract from your enjoyment of the movie; certainly it is not my intention to call into question your taste in fantasy adventure. 

But as someone who found her Hobbit experience less than fulfilling, I have for a while (a couple months now, actually) been craving a space in which to share my impressions.  Since almost anything goes on Heroines of Fantasy, I've decided to follow Thorin Oakenshield's brave example, and go out on a virtual limb. 

Let me start by saying that I love Tolkien's work; anyone who has followed me on blogs and Facebook for even a brief while will know that by now.  I thoroughly enjoyed The Hobbit when I read it years and years ago, and the story continues to inspire me to this day.  Peter Jackson's interpretation of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, while a disappointment for some Tolkien purists, is at the top of my personal list of all time favorite films. 

I did not, of course, expect a Lord of the Rings experience when I went to see The Hobbit.  For one thing, I knew The Hobbit was not an epic tale in the same sense of LotR.  It's a wonderful, charming fantasy adventure complete with a wizard, a band of feisty dwarves, and a dragon.  It does not need to be more than that; and it would not have been fair to expect anything from The Hobbit -- except maybe the scenery -- to be quite on par with what Jackson so artfully gave us in LotR. 

But I did expect to be entertained, and I did not expect to be bored. I was disappointed on both counts.

It wasn't really about the lack of women characters perse. Indeed, one could argue that the artificial insertion of female characters would have violated Tolkien's original vision in unacceptable ways.  (I have heard we are in for a female character in the second film, and already some Tolkien fans are up in arms. . .)

But all those stocky adventure-seeking fellas in The Hobbit fell flat somehow -- with the dependable exception of Gandalf and Gollum.  More than halfway through the movie, I had yet to become invested in the fate of anyone, even Bilbo, with whom I should have identified as a character of noble qualities -- strengths, and weakness that anyone, man or woman, could relate to. 

The disappointing experience of The Hobbit left me reflecting on the magic achieved with the LotR films:

How Sam instantly became someone who could have been my friend, too;

How Merry and Pippin were just the kind of guys I'd like to stop by the tavern and share a pint with;

How Boromir's failure in his struggle against the Ring reflected my own shortcomings and weaknesses;

How Eowyn's noble spirit and courage was something I could aspire to. 

The list goes on and on. There was not a character in the film interpretation of LotR with whom I did not identify on some level -- not a character whose ultimate fate I did not have an investment in -- no matter what their role or gender. 

So now it's your chance to tell me:  What was missing from The Hobbit?  Am I onto something here, or am I just being over critical?

I will say there was one scene in the movie that almost made it worth sitting through the whole thing:  The riddle game between Bilbo and Gollum was absolutely brilliant.

Then again, Gollum carried that scene.  Between you and me (and the rest of the internet), I was secretly hoping he would win, so he'd get to keep his Precious and eat his hobbitses.   

Posted by Karin Rita Gastreich

Epic Fantasy isn't Dead: Reader Preference and the Changing Publishing World

I have always been a huge fan of epic fantasy: sweeping tales, set in well-built worlds, with characters who embody the more “traditional” values of honor, chivalry and grace. So it’s really no surprise that this is the genre I turned to when I started writing. What DOES surprise me are the bold assertions by editors, agents and publishing houses that the genre is dead. Unfortunately, these assertions say more about the power of the industry over what we read rather than indicate the actual health of a genre.

Back in 2006, I attended a writer’s conference where I had the privilege of, along with a handful of other writers, lunching with a very cool, very lovely Tor editor. She assured me, along with every other aspiring novelist at the table, that the days of the epic fantasy series were over. Publishing could not afford to take chances on multi-book contracts for newer writers, and readers were no longer interested in “door-stoppers.” The implication was: 1) readers don’t have the attention span/ time/ interest; 2) epic fantasy is too outdated; and 3) the production, both short-term and long-term, of epic series is too expensive in today’s market. And ultimately, epic fantasy is “too cliché.” A map at the beginning of the novel? So passe! Readers and publishers alike are bored by the Euro-centric quest fantasy, she told us; they want urban fantasy, not swords and sorcery. 

My experiences with several agents over the years also backed her claim. At writer’s conferences, they actively sought paranormal/ urban fantasy. Vampires were all the rage, then werewolves, then zombies. Some indicated that they might read and represent “more traditional” fantasy, but they didn’t prefer it and weren’t sure they could sell it. I received very kind, personalized rejection letters praising the quality of my writing, characters, and story, but they all ultimately passed on representation. Epic fantasy, they told me, wasn’t selling—unless it was wildly different. In other words, to sell, an epic fantasy novel would only sell if it were void of all the typical fantasy tropes—the very same tropes that define it as a genre.

Fast forward a few years. The Lord of the Rings is one of the most popular movie series of all time, and The Hobbit series begins, exposing another generation to Tolkien's work. A Game of Thrones is now a wildly popular HBO miniseries. Tor not only picked up Brandon Sanderson to complete the late Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series, but also published his personal fantasy series. Morgan Rhodes’ Falling Kingdoms, quite possibly one of the worst fantasy novels I have ever read, is touted as a Young Adult George R. R. Martin, firmly stamping the novel as epic fantasy and attempting to bring up another generation of fantasy readers. Whatever my personal feelings about the novel, I am both stunned and excited that publishing is starting to once more acknowledge that people actually like epic fantasy.

Still, it is difficult to find a fantastic new epic fantasy series on the shelves. Rhodes’ novel cobbles together the worst in epic fantasy; while many readers are just thrilled to have ANY epic fantasy on the shelves, I fear publishers will see any bad reviews or low sales of the novel as a reflection of the popularity of the genre as a whole and ditch plans to publish any more epic fantasy. Hadley Rille Books has made a business out of publishing this genre, yet can’t get the books onto the shelves of brick-and-mortar bookstores (bookseller snobbery on the part of big and small booksellers alike is a discussion for another time). We know there are epic fantasy readers out there; the problem is getting quality books in front of them. The balance of power between big and small publishers makes this an intimidating, at times impossible task, and the victims are the readers.

Ultimately, this points to a disconnect between readers and publishers, a disconnect that will only grow as independent publishing and e-books gain popularity. Publishers and agents think they know what readers want. Meanwhile, readers aren’t hitting the bookstores like they used to, and with a wider variety of ebooks to choose from at 1970’s book prices, chances are good that agents and publishers will have less idea of what readers actually want. The advent of kickstarter adds another level, as readers can actually directly support and take an active role in the creation of any project they desire, removing the publisher and the agent from the process entirely.

HRB's latest fantastic fantasy

What does this mean for epic fantasy? My guess is that public awareness of the smaller publishers—such as Hadley Rille Books—and the independent authors writing and publishing good fantasy will increase as people vote with their dollar. Perhaps more awareness will force big publishers, agents and organizations like SFWA to acknowledge that quality novels do come from small press, and that a good portion of the reading public actually likes traditional epic fantasy. Eventually, the industry will shift altogether, making more room for the indie presses and offering more choice to the readers.

At least, I hope for change. I, for one, am tired of others declaring an entire genre flatlined based on publishing standards and measures that are just about dead. Choice is good. I want to see lots of books on the shelves—epic fantasy, dystopian, urban fantasy, comedic fantasy, steampunk, cyberpunk—along with writers whose work is so difficult to pigeonhole that agents and publishers don’t even bother trying. We, as readers and writers, should not have to wait for the industry to tell us which books to read, or dictate what we like.

Despite all attempts to the contrary, the epic fantasy genre isn’t dead. We may have to work a little harder to find the books and authors we like, but until then, they will be right there, waiting to be discovered.

Kim Vandervort

What do you read?

March 3, 2013

What do you read?

I’m taking a bit of a side track from some of my usual blog topics today. I have a keen interest in story, but I find I don’t gravitate to short pieces. I don’t have tons of story ideas in folders and files waiting further attention, but I have a goodly handful I hope to commit to as I continue to explore Pevana and the regions and cultures I have found there.  I like short stories; I read them, use them to teach and they figured prominently in my courses of study as an undergrad and later as a graduate student. I still have all the volumes of Lin’s Carter’s early series The Year’s Best Fantasies. In fact, Carter’s collections introduced me to several of my favorite writers: CJ Cherryh and Patricia McKillip. I have been collecting and consuming their long and short fiction the bulk of my reading life. I admire them both for the quality of their prose and for how prolific they have been.  I sense a control to their output, dedication to the craft and professional discipline in how they go about creating their tales.  They are committed in ways I know I will never achieve. I follow Cherryh on her blog, and the scope of the woman’s knowledge and interests is truly impressive. I consider her one of the greatest artificers of our age, and yet she doesn’t eat, sleep and dream the genre. She delves into ancestry, gene history, follows current astronomical developments, finds time to ice skate, cook, go to cons and go blotto with video games and great historical movies. Her blog reminds me of Gatsby’s house, “full of interesting people doing interesting things.” In short, the woman has used to bulk her days to foster and explore all the things that speak to her talents, and I find that truly inspiring.

                           

I think many of us share similar experiences. I still feel energized by being in the classroom, and that will likely always be a first focus for “what I have to say.”  One of the nicest, surprising by-products of becoming a published author is how much more authority I bring to the classroom. I have always been the “word guy” throughout my career; that oddball who actually knows the MLA style manual, the comma-counter, king of symbolism, and reading quiz Nazi.  These last few years have really spiced up the interactions in class, and even though I know the odd brave kid will ask about “the books” in order to deflect me away from the topic at hand, the talks that ensue usually create sublime communicative moments. My students surprise and impress me in those moments. Digressions can be fruitful. One habit I have developed over my career is to always bring a personal book to school. I don’t feel quite right if the bag doesn’t have that balancing presence. Along with my Fitzgerald and Lee or Orwell and Kafka, I have to have my current down-time favorite. I steal a few minutes every day during lunch or prep to read a page or two. I find it helps me. I have also been fortunate enough to turn a few kids each year on to the joys of some pretty great books.

My question for those of you who read this blog and my writer friends and associates is simply this: What do you read? I write fantasy because it suits my temperament and skills. I love science fiction, but I doubt my technical knowledge and language command. I fear sounding false, so I stick to swords and spears and bowls of stirrabout. I have always been intrigued by Roman Britain and the “dark” years after Rome withdrew. Arthur, Ambrosius, Uther and the rest of the real or mythical cast periodically claim me. I blame Suitcliff for that. I was fortunate as a young man to find a great library in my junior high school that stocked all of her novels. I recall looking for a refuge from the hormonal soup that was my school and developed a fondness for heather choked hills and heroes that spoke to me from the shadows of the past: The Lantern Bearers, Dawn Wind, The Sword at Sunset, The Eagle of the Ninth. Great stuff. I have enjoyed collecting her works as an adult.

                                                   

Rome’s history intrigued me. We tend to extol its engineering virtues, but Gibbon gives a different perspective. I’ve actually read some Tacitus. As a kid I lived in Germany, and woven amongst the long drives in the country were snippets of Wagner, references to the Holy Roman Empire and all that it wasn’t. A visit to Waterloo sent me careening down the Napoleonic Era and a lifelong love affair with Forester’s Hornblower Saga and later an addiction to Cornwell’s Sharpe novels. Much later down the time line a colleague introduced me to Shelby Foote and his epic Civil War tomes…and my sense of the sentence has never been the same.  Historians like Tuchman, Ambrose and their like have punctuated my reading life. I just finished The Age of Wonder, an examination of the scientific advancements that took place between the years 1770 and 1830 and the relationship between the scientists and the romantic poets that shared the world stage during those years. Again, ripping stuff. There are many others, of course, but my intention was just to share a smattering of the different kinds of works that framed my youth and continue to impact my writing. I’ve had a good ride so far. What about you?

And what am I reading now? After seeing the first Hobbit film, LOTR claimed me once again. My sixth grade teacher read the book to my class. I still hear her voice doing Bilbo… Middle Earth claimed me when I was twelve and I have been taking hikes with Frodo almost yearly ever since. And yet this time, I will admit to having a slightly different experience, and I blame my wonderful editor for the insight. I now know the source of all those over the top epic sentences she had me excise or change. Plus, has anybody else noticed how much the dear old Professor used passive voice? But that is a topic for another time.

So, peers and readers, what do you read? What are your favorites that you find yourself revisiting from time to time? I would welcome any additions to my “to be read file.”

Happy reading!

Mark Nelson