Author Archives: Keith West

RIP, Darrell K. Sweet

I just learned that we lost one of our greatest artists today.  As reported by Locus Online and Tor, Darrell K. Sweet passed away this morning.  He was one of the most recognizable artists in the field.  I grew up reading books he illustrated, and he was a personal favorite of mine.  I’ll post a more personal eulogy sometime in the next day or so.  It’s late, and this is one I want to take my time with.  Darrell K. Sweet, 1934-2011; he will be missed.

Trying Twitter

I’m giving Twitter a try.  Hopefully this experiment will be more successful than Facebook was back in the summer.  (I need to figure out why Facebook converted the blog page into a personal page, which I don’t want, and try again.)  Anyway, in case any of you are interested, here’s where you can follow me:  @AdvntrsFntastc.  Hopefully, I can figure how to get the avatar to load before the day is over.

The Paths of Righteousness Lead to Many Worlds

The Paths of Righteousness
James Reasoner
various ebook formats $2.99, trade paper $8.99

If the name James Reasoner doesn’t come to mind when you think of contemporary science fiction authors, there’s a reason for that.  Science fiction isn’t what he mainly writes.  James Reasoner is a noted western and crime writer.  If you like either of those genres and haven’t read him, you should check him out.

Science fiction has always been one of my favorite genres, in fact the only one I read for a while when I was a kid.  So when I read about this collection on James’ blog, I quickly snagged myself a copy.  Good thing I did, too.  James Reasoner is a practitioner of the art form created when Urg first painted his version of the mammoth hunt on the cave wall; he’s a storyteller.

There are only five pieces in this book, which is something of a downer because I wasn’t ready for the book to end.  Reasoner has a unique voice, and it comes through in the phrases his narrators choose and the way they describe things.  You can also see the influence of the western writer side of Reasoner’s mind in some of the selections.  “The Path of Righteousness” and  “The Border Shift” have strong western overtones, especially the latter.  “Bugeyes” deals with human-alien relations.  “Terran Girls Make Wonderful Wives” is a noir PI story set on the Moon.  The final selection, “Season of Storms” is set in a near future Texas in which the weather has gone wild.

The characters are likeable, and they have depth.  The plots are straight forward science fiction adventures with heart.  The first and last tales are set in Texas, and being (as far as I know) a life-long Texan, Reasoner captures the tone and voice many non-Texan writers miss when they attempt to set their stories in the Lone Star State.

The stories are serious, meaning they aren’t intended to be humorous or funny, but none of them have the dark, almost nihilistic tone that so much contemporary science fiction does, especially near future science fiction.  They reminded me of the science fiction I grew up reading, the old fashioned kind where the author told a story, told it well, and didn’t try to beat me over the head with how clever he was with words or raise my social consciousness.  In other words, I was entertained, which is the primary purpose of good fiction.

In his blog post announcing this collection, Reasoner mentioned that putting the book together had made him want to write more science fiction.  I think that’s a swell idea.  So, James, do you see that chair over there?  Yes, that one next to the (choose all that apply:  computer/typewriter/quill and parchment/clay tablet).  Please sit down and get to work.  Now.

Bill Crider posted the following photo on his blog earlier this year, and Scott Cupp passed it along to me.  I’ve been looking for an excuse to do something with it either here or at Adventures Fantastic..  It’s from 2001, although I don’t know the venue.  The writers pictured are Scott Cupp, James Reasoner, Bill Crider, and Joe Lansdale.  A swell bunch of guys.

NaNoWriMo: It’s Over (Sort Of)

Well, I did it.  I managed to complete 50,000 words of a novel.  Fifty thousand, forty-five to be exact.  That’s nowhere near all of the novel.  I’m estimating this one will run to at least 70,000, possibly more.  But to “win” NaNoWriMo, you had to complete just 50,000.  Which I did in spite of myself.

I say in spite of myself because I turned out to be my own biggest obstacle.  This is by far the longest thing I’ve attempted.  I didn’t plan it out in detail well enough.  I usually have a general idea of where I want a story to end up.  Getting there is just details.  The devil, as they say, is in the details.  This novel has three viewpoint characters, four if you count the captain who only appears in flashbacks at the end of the major sections.  The characters are in separate locations when the book opens, and I alternate chapters featuring each of them.  I found myself writing more than one chapter about a character, depending how well I understood that part of the character’s story arc in relation to the other story arcs.  I would then go back and insert chapters where needed.  I found this to be both a stressful and liberating way to write.

Anyhoo, I’ve not been blogging much in the last couple of weeks because I was trying to make the deadline.  I’m going to step away from the novel for a few days, finish up a fantasy mystery novella that’s about 1500 words from being done, start reading some of the books that have been piling up.  I’m also going to think about some details I didn’t work out very well before I started writing a month ago.  I hope to finish the first draft of the novel over the holidays, get it to the beta readers, and get to work on the second book in the series.  I’ve learned a lot about writing and how (not) to approach a novel, and I’m eager to put some of those things into practice.

Things I’m Thankful for

There are a number of things I’m thankful for.  Here’s a partial list.

First of all, my family, both immediate and extended.  (This includes the dogs.) 

Our health.

Employment, both for me and my wife.   And not just a job in my case, but something I find fulfilling.  While I’m not sure it’s something I want to do for the rest of my life, I don’t dread going to work every day.

A place to live, food to eat, cars to drive. 

Books to read.  Lots and lots and lots of books to read.  And vintage pulps.  And comics and graphic novels.  And opportunities to write.

The good things blogging has brought into my life:  new friends, review copies of books from both authors and publishers, and outlet for my writing.

That I live in the greatest country in the world, where I am free to say what I like, read what I like, and worship God in the manner I see fit.

May God bless each and every one of you as much as He’s blessed me.

RIP, Anne McCaffery

Locus Online is reporting that SFWA Grand Master Anne McCaffery died at home in Ireland of a massive stroke on November 21, 2011.  She was 85.  McCaffery was author of the long-running Pern series.  In addition to Pern, McCaffery was the author of a number of other series, which she often co-wrote with up and coming authors who went on to have significant careers.  These authors include, but are not limited to, Jody Lynne Nye, Elizabeth Moon, Elizabeth Anne Scarborough, and Mercedes Lackey.  McCaffery won a number of awards for her work, including the Nebula and Hugo (she was the first woman to win both).  In 2006 she was inducted into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame.

Angry Robot Announces New Authors

The following is a press release from Angry Robot Books:

** ANGRY ROBOT SIGNS TWO NEW “OPEN DOOR MONTH” AUTHORS **

Like most successful publishers, Angry Robot generally only accepts submissions through literary agencies. Earlier this year, however, the company ran a pilot programme to see how many unpublished – but talented – authors there were without representation. During March, Angry Robot invited all un-agented authors to submit completed manuscripts as part of an “Open Door Month”. Over 990 novels were submitted during that period.

Today, Angry Robot are delighted to announce the first acquisitions from the first Open Door Month. Two new authors, each with a minimum two book deal, have now joined the Angry Robot family.

Cassandra Rose Clarke was the first signing to come through this process. Her two novels for Angry Robot show the versatility of this important new talent.

‘The Mad Scientist’s Daughter’ is the heartbreaking story of the journey from childhood to adulthood, with an intriguing science fictional twist. And ‘The Assassin’s Curse’ is a fantastical romp, starring Ananna, a no-nonsense lady pirate, born into pirate royalty.

Clarke said: “I’m beyond excited to have Angry Robot publishing my first-ever novel, and not only because of the delightful coincidence that my novel involves a robot who is, on occasion, angry. Angry Robot’s reputation is stellar and their author list incredibly impressive – I’m humbled to be included amongst their ranks!”

We take a somewhat darker turn with a pair of books from Lee Collins – ‘The Dead of Winter’ and ‘She Returns From War’. Both novels follow Cora Oglesby, a bounty hunter with a reputation for working supernatural cases.

Collins said: “As excited as I am at the prospect of rubbing shoulders with Angry Robot’s outstanding authors, publication was really a secondary goal of my submitting to them. My primary reason was the hope, however slim, of cybernetic augmentation.”

Both deals were negotiated by Angry Robot’s editor, Lee Harris, who stated: “There is an enormous amount of talent out there, waiting to be discovered, and I am thrilled we have found two great new talents as part of our search.”

Both authors’ debut novels will be published by Angry Robot in autumn 2012, with their second books scheduled for spring 2013.

Following the success of the project, Angry Robot expects to run a similar Open Door period in spring 2013, details of which are to be confirmed at a later date.

Ok, that’s the end of the press release.  Further details and author photos can be found on the Angry Robot website.  Advanced reading copies of  The Mad Scientist’s Daughter and The Dead of Winter will be available at some point.  I’ll download them and post the reviews, here for the former and at Adventures Fantastic for the latter.  Angry Robot is one of the more innovative publishers out there.  I’m eager to see what new authors they’ve discovered.

NoNoWriMo: Week 1

Well, I’ve managed to write every day of the first week of NaNoWriMo, although I haven’t quite made the daily goal I set out for myself when I started.  As of right now, I’m 2,000 words behind and have written just over 12,000, or to put it another way, I’m basically one day behind.  The weekend wasn’t good for writing, so I didn’t make my quota every day.  Tonight isn’t looking good at all.  My son’s final soccer practice is this evening; they’re playing for the championship this weekend.  I’ve got a stack of exams sitting here that I need to finish grading before tomorrow morning.  If the morning goes like today and yesterday did, then I can’t count on finding time to grade in the morning. 

On the whole, though, I’d say the first week has been a success.  Taking a day or so off shouldn’t kill my momentum.  I need to think about what each of the three viewpoint characters is going to go through next to get them where I ultimately want them to end up.

John Joseph Adams Buys Lightspeed and Fantasy Magazines

John Joseph Adams

Prime Books announced today that it is selling both Lightspeed and Fantasy magazines to current editor John Joseph Adams.  The sale is part of the expansion of Prime Books.  Publisher Sean Wallace stated that the book publishing side of his job was taking more and more time.  Adams is a highly respected editor not only of the magazine but of numerous anthologies as well.  Adams issued the following statement:  “It’s an exciting time to be involved in publishing.  Models are changing and so is the readership, and online magazines have a better shot at sustainability than ever have before. I believe the possibilities for growth are tremendous, and I look forward to staying in the vanguard of this new frontier.”

With the announcement last week that Realms of Fantasy was closing again, it’s been an eventful week in sff periodical publishing.  As I promised when I posted about RoF I’ll have more to say about these changes in a post later this week.

NaNoWriMo: Excerpt One

The first three days of NaNoWriMo have been productive.  I wrote 2,000 words the first day, a little over 2400 yesterday, and just under 1600 tonight, bringing my total to slightly over 6,000.  This is a good pace, and it will come to a screeching halt tomorrow.  I’ve got commitments tomorrow night which will keep me away from the computer.  There’s always the weekend to try to catch up and gain a little cushion.

I’ve written what amounts to three chapters introducing three of the main viewpoint characters.  I’ll introduce a significant fourth viewpoint character later in a flashback, whose present whereabouts will be a mystery for a while.  None of the three characters I’ve introduced have any idea where they are or how they got there when we first meet them, nor do they know anything about the nature of the planet they’re on.  Discovering that will be a major portion of the storyline.  I don’t have a working title yet, still kicking a few ideas around.

Anyway, here’s what will probably be the first chapter, in rough draft form with little to no editing.

Lieutenant Jacob Vasquez dangled over the river, trying to convince himself to let go of the branch he was hanging from.  There were enough rocks below, and the drop was high enough, even with this planet’s slightly lower gravity, to make such a course of action potentially fatal.
He looked back down at the base of the tree for inspiration.  Three creatures from a nightmare clawed the trunk.  They were as tall as large dogs and just as wide.  Short black fur covered their backs and eight legs, fading to grey on their undersides.  Square heads protruded from the bodies, connected directly to the torsos without benefit of necks.  One looked up at him, opened a mouth filled with needle sharp fangs, and gave what Vasquez could only think of as a cross between a yodel and a whine.
The call was answered from within the forest, and two more of the things scurried from the trees.  They moved incredibly fast for their size. 
One of the newcomers made a threatening noise at one the creatures already there, and received bared fangs in response.  The one that had yodeled ignored the arrival of the two and began clawing its way up the trunk. 

Fortunately the short, stocky legs weren’t suited for climbing, or Vasquez would have already been torn to pieces.  He’d spooked them while hunting and had barely been able to outrun them.  There were no branches low enough for him to grab without stopping on any of the nearby trees, and that would have been fatal.  He just managed to scramble up this tree.  It hung far enough out over the narrow gorge that he thought he could make the jump to the other side.  Unfortunately, his foot slipped on the smooth wood and he’d only managed to catch himself because he straddled the branch as he lost his balance instead of slipping over the side.
Still, he’d fallen almost completely off the branch before he could get a secure grip.  Now he hung from the branch, his inner thigh throbbing from the impact when he fell.  Vasquez doubted he could make the jump now, even if he could regain the running start he’d lost.
The beast attempting to reach him slipped off, but another immediately took its place.  This one was heavier, and the impact when it hit made the trunk shudder.  Vasquez felt himself drop as the branch bounced.  He managed to hang on, but his palms were growing increasingly sweaty.  Soon the decision of whether to jump would be taken away from him.
He tried again to lift himself so he could wrap his legs around the branch, but his hands began to slip.  He dropped his lower body as quickly as he dared.  Evens so, he almost lost his grip. 
The tree shuddered again as another of the beasts attempted to scale it. 
Vasquez looked down.  Heights didn’t bother him, never had.  He wasn’t afraid of falling or of the sudden stop at the end.  But he wasn’t a fool, either.  There were too many rock directly below for him to think he could survive the drop.
The tree shuddered again, and Vasquez swayed.  That gave him an idea.
As carefully as he could he switched his grip so that he was facing the animals and began to slowly work his way further out onto the branch where the rocking of the tree would have a greater amplitude.  A gust of wind blew their scent to him.  He tried not to gag; the things smelled like milk that had been left out in the sun for a week.  Lifting his feet he began to swing slowly. 
When the next impact came, he was ready for it and used the momentum imparted by the animal’s attack on the tree to increase his swing.
His fingers began to slip again.  The next swing out would have to be it.
Vasquez extended his body and felt the barkless wood slide past his fingers.  Then the air was rushing past him.  Everything slowed down.  It seemed as though he were falling in slow motion.  The world tilted and the river rose into his field of view.  The rocks and breakers grew larger as he closed the distance to them.  Somewhere above him, the beasts set up a chorus of their weird yodeling.
One particular rock, with a jagged edge, seemed to draw him closer.  At the last minute Vasquez tucked.  He didn’t know the depth and wasn’t foolish enough to make a head-first dive into the churning water.  He hit curled into a ball.
The air had been warm and muggy.  The water was like ice, and the cold coupled with the impact almost took Vasquez’s breath away.  His back grazed the rock, and time resumed its normal flow. 
The current was stronger than he’d realized.  It pulled him under, bouncing him against the bottom, slamming his body into rocks, the cold sucking his strength away.  Vasquez didn’t know which way was up.
He broke the surface, gasping and nearly swallowed a mouthful of water.  Then he was pulled under again.  His lungs burned and his vision began to go black around the edges. 
Then just as he saw the surface coming closer, the river dropped over a small fall and sent him plunging into a small pool.  The flow of water over the drop pounded him, forcing him under.  Vaquez managed to get his feet on the bottom and pushed off, uncertain of the direction he was heading.  The current caught him again.
This time it slammed him into a rock, washing him up onto the surface of a flat stone.  He managed to drag himself up out of the flow the water and lay gasping in the sunlight.  This planet’s star was red, and gave less heat than he was used to.  Still, it was better by far than the water.  His muscles ached, his exposed skin was covered with abrasions, and he knew when he took off his coveralls he would be painted with bruises.  A lump was rising on the back of his head.  He gently probed the knot with his fingers.  The skin was tender, causing him to wince, and when he pulled his hand away, his fingers were bloody.
Vasquez laid back, drawing air deep into his lungs.
After an indeterminate time, he tried to move.  His body was stiffening up.  If he stayed on the rock much longer, he would have to spend the night there.  The thought was not reassuring.  The two nights he’d spent on this planet since he’d awoken had not been cold, but he knew on the water the air would feel chill.  Despite the risk, he had to try to make it to the shore.
He climbed to his feet, his sore body protesting with every move.  Careful not to slip, he looked around. 
He was closer to the far shore than the one he’d jumped from.  That was fine by him.  He’d never be able to outrun whatever those things were if he encountered them again.  There was another rock just past him.  The water flowed through the gap between it and the one he stood on a rapid pace, accelerated through the channel by the weight of the water coming down behind it.  Normally he could make the leap without any problem.  Now he wasn’t so sure.  Still it was better than going back in the water and trying to swim.
From there he thought he could make it to the shore.
Vasquez took a step back, braced himself in as much of a runner’s starting stance as he could, and took two steps.  On the second step he pushed off as hard as he could.  He hit the rock and slipped, his feet slid into the cold water.  He managed to grab an outcropping with his right hand while he flailed about with his left.  The current began to pull him off the rock and around the edge.  His fingers were starting to cramp, and he was certain he was going to lose his hold when his left hand found purchase.  The additional leverage allowed him to brace his feet against the side of the rock.  It was slippery, but there was enough friction for him to begin to climb out of the water.
He did so mostly by crawling across the rock.  Eventually he managed to get clear of the water and stand up.  He was only about three meters from the shore, which consisted of a small beach.  Shrubs and bushes formed a barrier between the beach and the rocks beyond. 
Vasquez opted to jump rather than wait for his strength to come back.  He was afraid it wouldn’t before dark.  He landed in the middle of the water, and the current took his feet from under him before he could find his balance.  He ended up on a sand bank and pulled himself onto the damp sand further up the beach on his hands and knees.
The sun was beginning to disappear behind the cliffs on the opposite side of the river.  He didn’t have the means to start a fire nor the strength to go far up the slope. 
Vasquez climbed to his feet and staggered into the bushes.  Once inside them, he was able to walk mostly upright, and used the branches for support until he was far enough from the river that the air felt warmer. 
He collapsed into a pile of leaves and took stock of his situation.  Somewhere in the river he hand torn the fingernail from the middle finger of his left hand.  He hadn’t felt it in the cold water, but as he began to warm, the pain began to be noticeable.  Nothing seemed to be broken, just bruised and scraped. 
Hunger gnawed at his belly.  He’d not dared to eat anything since he woke up leaning against a tree two days ago, alone and without any survival gear.  He had no idea where he was, and until he knew if the local foliage was safe for his biochemistry, he’d prefer not to experiment.  That option was fast being taken away from him by time.  Vasquez had used the last of his strength getting out of the river and making his way to where he presently lay.  He’d have to eat tomorrow.  So far, nothing in the water he’d been forced to drink had made him sick, but he knew he couldn’t count on that not changing. 
He began to shake and knew it was more than the lingering chill from the river.  Shock was setting in again.  Some part of his mind wasn’t surprised.  He was supposed to be on a starship, on a mission to investigate some anomalous signals out on the edge of human space.  The trip was supposed to take a year and a half.
How he’d gotten on this planet, without any memory of being awakened from coldsleep was a mystery he had no immediate means of solving.   At the moment all his energy and dwindling mental resources were devoted to surviving.
As darkness fell, Jacob Vasquez slipped into shock.