Category: fantasy (Page 2 of 9)

Short Fantasy Novels?

July 21, 2023 / / 0 Comments

According to Esquire, short books are IN right now. I am part of this reading trend, apparently, because I too read This Is How You Lose the Time War partly based on Bigolas Dickolas’s recommendation on Twitter.

(I mean, not because of their recommendation, but because our book club thought it was funny that someone who goes by the moniker Bigolas Dickolas was getting a viral response to a tweet about this book, and also, it was a book we all had on our reading lists anyway.)

But I have always liked short books, so it’s not really a trend for me. I like really long books too. I basically really like books, all sizes.

But short books are having their moment, apparently, and that’s good for me (I guess) because I tend to write shorter books (at least for now… who knows what will happen in the future). Not that anything I’ve written has become an internet phenomenon like This Is How You Lose the Time War…

But I’m not interested in shorter books for my own career’s sake. I’m more interested in them for my sake as a reader and observer of trends in fantasy fiction.

My question is this: Has fantasy joined the short books crowd, or will the trend continue to be longish books? (I’m defining longish as 400 pages or more.)

I’m not against longish books by the way. (See above: I like books of all sizes.)

But there was once upon a time when fantasy novels were shorter than they are now, particularly the fantasy of the mid-20th century, and everyone was cool with it. We all know that Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings set the template for what a fantasy series is “supposed” to be, but even LOTR isn’t that long when you think about it. It’s one book that clocks in at roughly 1,000 pages (which is long, yes), but it was published as three separate books of roughly 350 pages in length (so, today’s normal book length or shorter).

But starting around the 1990s?, epic fantasy needed to be EPIC both in scope and size. Five, seven, ten books in a series, and each book is pushing 800 pages, and some are even longer than that, and it’s not really fantasy unless it’s dense with detail and world-building. Tolkien’s LOTR wouldn’t even be considered long by these standards.

I guess we’ve moved away from massively long books in recent years, but most fantasy is still around the 400-600 page range. Six hundred pages isn’t LONG, but it ain’t short either. Put it into a series of several 600-page books, and we’re talking about a commitment.

When I pick up an old pulpy paperback from the 1960s or 70s, I’m always surprised by how short these novels are compared to today. Jack of Shadows was SLIM. I just bought the Empire of the East series by Fred Saberhagen and each of the three volumes combined is shorter than many a single fantasy novel you’d see on the bestseller chart today. The Last Unicorn is sub-200 pages, so are Le Guin’s Earthsea novels. Patricia McKillop, Andre Norton, Poul Anderson, Michael Moorcock, et. al. were writing slim volumes back in the day and everyone was cool with it.

I know trends in publishing are different from trends in storytelling and reading, but the two trends intersect. If the market has decided a fantasy novel has to “be” a certain kind of thing, then that is what we often see getting published.

Slightly large caveat here: With indie publishing, writers can basically do whatever they want. We can publish shorter books and not bat an eye. So, in this sense, we’re not beholden to what traditional publishers are looking for when publishing fantasy novels. We can bring back the olden days of sub-200 page novels and live like kings and queens. Definitely. This is true. I’m living that dream right now, with my longest paperback reaching only 284 pages. Huzzah!

However, the expectation of readers can still be set by what the publishing norm is in any given genre, and if indie writers and trad publishers continue to put out fantasy novels that are 400 pages or more a pop, then readers have expectations for what a “fantasy novel” is. The publishing trend can impact the reading trend.

(Obviously, as we’re seeing with the overall trend of readers reading shorter works in general, the market can and will adjust to what readers want, so it’s not all puppet-masters pulling the strings from above. I’m just curious about whether fantasy READERS are interested in shorter works overall. Maybe they are? Maybe there already is a trend for shorter fantasy novels and I’m just missing it? Very possible.)

I know I’ve really enjoyed the shorter fantasy I’ve read from the 60s and 70s. The commitment isn’t as huge, so if the book is a little uneven or weird, it’s okay. It’s only 160 pages. The swiftness of the storytelling is refreshing too. Even though these books are short, they don’t skimp on plot or world-building or anything else. They move breezily from strange vista to strange vista, and I don’t feel like I’m missing anything from the experience even though it’s a much shorter experience than what I’m often used to with books from today.

As a writer, I know I will continue to write shorter books (and hopefully longer ones too!), but as a reader, I’d love to see shorter fantasy novels make a comeback. With that shortness comes a slightly different approach to storytelling that I think can be refreshing. In 200 pages or less, both the writer and the reader can take chances that we might not otherwise take if the story were longer. I’d love a return to the old pulpy paperback days. Give me 150 pages and some weirdness, and I’m in!

A Side Project That Took Over My Life

May 17, 2023 / / 0 Comments

Seven years ago, I hadn’t yet started my career as an independent author. I was still finding my way as a writer, so I decided to write a NaNoWriMo novel based on my memories of childhood.

It wasn’t a memoir, though. I’m a fantasy author. I wanted there to be some magic in this story, so I had to make it fictional. My inspiration was Ray Bradbury and his beautiful ode to childhood, Dandelion Wine, a novel I hold dear to my heart.

So I invented Sarah Lewis, a ten-year-old from California who spends the summer with her grandparents in Michigan.

(“Sarah Lewis” by the way is an homage to two icons from my childhood: Sarah, the name of the lead character in Jim Henson’s Labyrinth, and Jenny Lewis, child star of the 80s and early 90s. I wished I could be them when I was a kid.)

I worked on the NaNoWriMo novel for awhile back in 2015, but then I set it aside and started work on my first published novel, The Thirteen Treasures of Britain. Treasures came out just after I had given birth to my second child (in 2016), and I was all set to start working on book two of the Merlin’s Last Magic series, when I found out I was pregnant again.

This third pregnancy threw me for a loop, and to take my mind off the mounting pressure to finish my Merlin series, I returned to my little side project.

Avalon Summer became my low-pressure respite from the demands of my day job, motherhood, and trying to write the next book in my fantasy series. When I was working on Avalon Summer, I could return to the days of my childhood: to the early 90s, to endless bike rides, to playing adventures in the woods. I would cue up my old R.E.M. albums and just write, remembering what it was like to be a kid again.

I worked on this book off-and-on for several years, just dipping into it when I needed a break from normal life.

But then about a year or so ago, something happened. I started to work on Avalon Summer A LOT. Maybe it was the pandemic, or maybe it was just the right time for it, but I became so caught up in Sarah’s story that my nice little side project became the main event. I started working on Avalon Summer all the time.

And then something else happened.

In the course of the story, Sarah finds a dusty old paperback called Gates to Illvelion. It contains some eerie parallels to her own life.

When I was writing about the paperback and its effect on Sarah, I realized I needed to make up some chapter titles, some characters, and some plot points for this non-existent book to fit into my narrative for Avalon Summer.

So I did.

And then I decided to write the entire book.

The result — Gates to Illvelion — is an homage of sorts to the pulpy genre fantasy of the 1970s. Inspired by writers such as Peter S. Beagle, Patricia McKillop, and Andre Norton, I wrote Gates to Illvelion as something ten-year-old Sarah would get immersed in and even disturbed by.

I wrote it under a pen name — A.R. Rathmann — and not to spoil things too much, but I decided to make the identity of A.R. Rathmann a plot point in Avalon Summer.

If this sounds a little confusing, well, it is.

I wrote a coming-of-age novel in which a young girl is obsessed with a fantasy book by a mysterious author, and then I went and wrote the fantasy book this young girl becomes obsessed with.

Because of the nature of these two projects, I decided to do a Kickstarter campaign that showcased the connection between these two books. Readers scrolling through Amazon wouldn’t know or understand that Gates to Illvelion is a new release pretending to be an old vintage paperback. And they certainly wouldn’t understand that Gates to Illvelion plays a role in the plot to another novel, Avalon Summer, a coming-of-age story about a girl spending the summer with her grandparents in Michigan.

These two books have a story behind their creation. The Kickstarter was my way of sharing that story.

But now the books are getting released to the general public on May 30, 2023, so I thought a blog post was in order to explain the connection between them. Buyers scrolling through Amazon still won’t know the connection between Gates to Illvelion and Avalon Summer, but I’m hoping word of mouth will provide some illumination.

Of course, each book can be read independently of the other. They aren’t connected except in a meta, self-referential way.

And I’ve kept the pen name “A.R. Rathmann” separate from my “Jennifer M. Baldwin” identity. A.R. Rathmann is listed as a separate author on the retailer websites and on Goodreads. Perhaps this isn’t the best tactic marketing-wise, but it’s how I wanted to do things.

Summer is almost here, and so are Avalon Summer and Gates to Illvelion. I hope you’ll want to sit on the handlebars and come along for the ride.

Freaky Face

April 29, 2023 / / 0 Comments

I’m reading John Bellairs’s The Face in the Frost, and I guess I was not prepared for how creepy and downright scary this book can be at times. I’m not sure why this surprised me since Bellairs is known for scary YA fiction, but I’ve been pleasantly (and creepily) surprised by how spooky The Face in the Frost is.

It’s a wonderful mixture of anachronistic elements and a sort of whimsical and madcap, everything-and-the-kitchen-sink type fantasy, but then it adds these supernatural horror elements, and it makes for a unique experience. I really love these pre-1980s fantasy novels where there’s a playful spirit of anything goes.

As I often do, I wonder if a book like this could be written today, or if there are authors who are doing this sort of thing in our current fantasy literature scene. There very well might be; I’m not well-read enough in today’s novels to say one way or another. But I am curious if there’s a place for Bellairs’s style of fantasy in our current moment.

Listening to Starlight

April 26, 2023 / / 0 Comments

Been listening to a lot of synth from HDK, an Italian record label that specializes in, as they call it, “ambient punk, minimal-synth, dungeon-drone, wartime music and post-nuclear wave.”

I’ve written before about how I discovered the dungeon synth genre and then eventually found out that some of the artists have disgusting Nazi/fascist leanings. Not all of them, thank goodness, but enough to make me wary of seeking out new bands.

I vowed in my earlier post that I would give up the genre and stick with other music for inspiration, but HDK is one of those labels I haven’t given up on. They still release incredibly cool music, and since they are left wing politically, I don’t have to worry about supporting fascists by listening to the music they put out.

(I have also found a couple other dungeon synth artists whom I researched to make sure they weren’t gross, so I’m proceeding with caution with their music at the moment too. But it’s too bad I have to do this in the first place.)

Right now I’m listening to Starlight by Logic Gate. It’s futuristic, very 1980s sci-fi/thriller movie vibe. The cassette tape is made of yellow plastic and the liner notes come with a little grid game called “Asteroids Storm.” Every product from HDK has this kind of playful, throwback aesthetic and interactive quality. I really should splurge some day and buy a cassette of one of these albums. The dungeon synth ones often come with a little dungeon crawl module inside that fits with the music.

What I like about this kind of synth music, especially when I’m writing or getting ready to write, is that they set a distinct mood and ambiance, and since there are no words, I can get lost in the vibes of the music without getting caught up in the lyrics.

I do like music with lyrics for inspiration too, but I’ve found that I do better when I listen to those songs outside of my writing time. Maybe when going on a walk or driving or biking. Then my mind can interact with the poetry of the lyrics.

But before putting my fingers on the keyboard to type, I tend to prefer the synth stuff, especially when I need to get into a certain mood. Classical music works for me similarly (or movie soundtracks). Or other instrumental music.

What’s cool about the stuff from HDK is that they really carry the vibe over into the whole product. Even though I’ve never purchased a cassette from them, the pictures of the product are inspirational, as is the narrative aspect of the songs themselves. These are concept albums telling cohesive stories, and that kind of conceptual design helps focus my own attempts to create narrative.

Some of what HDK releases is not to my taste aesthetically. Some of the more horror-related albums, for instance. But in general terms, they have a vibe that I very much dig. It’s punk and pulpy, both tongue-in-cheek and earnest in its dedication to reviving a look and feel from the past. They’ve created a sonic universe that makes me want to write stories in their world.

Swamps of Sadness

April 25, 2023 / / 0 Comments

My husband and I were discussing which movies to watch with our kids for our family movie nights, and I thought it was time to show them some of the old fantasy movies from the 1970s and 80s like Rankin and Bass’s The Hobbit and Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

We both mentioned The Neverending Story, but then we thought, “Uh oh. Artax.”

Both of us had the same experience as probably every other kid who watched that movie, and that’s the experience of intense grief after watching Atreyu and Artax try to get through the Swamps of Sadness.

Our daughter is tenderhearted and loves animals deeply, and we both know that if we showed her The Neverending Story, she would be absolutely wrecked by the Artax scene.

So what do we do? We both love the movie; it was formative for us. And we were both devastated by the Artax scene as kids. I mean, that scene still gets me. Just thinking about it earlier made me tear up.

Do we pass on showing her the movie? Or do we tell her that even though there’s a really sad part, the rest of the movie is amazing?

In some ways, I want to shield her from that kind grief. I don’t want my daughter to cry.

But then I think of my own experience as a kid watching this movie, and how the intense sadness I felt at Artax’s death was somehow important to my development as a person. It showed me that death happens even when we don’t want it to. Even when it’s someone we love. Going through the process of weeping over Artax’s death, and watching Atreyu continue his quest despite the loss of his friend, was a kind of growing-up moment for me. The story revealed an important truth. Wouldn’t it be wrong to shield my daughter from that truth simply because I don’t want her to cry?

Of course, we could always wait a year or two before showing The Neverending Story, but I don’t think a year or two will matter. I still cry when I watch that scene. It will be sad at any age.

Should we avoid stories that make us so sad? Should we keep those kinds of stories at bay because they cut too deeply?

I don’t really know the answer. I know that I often cry when watching movies or listening to certain songs, and that I feel intense emotions when experiencing stories in all their various forms. This is the catharsis the Greeks believed was so important. We need to let out our emotions, even the really big and troubling ones. I wouldn’t want to stop watching movies just because they might make me cry. In a weird way, I like that experience.

But I know not everybody does. I know from my teaching experience that many students really didn’t like to read a sad book or watch a sad movie. They were uncomfortable feeling those feelings. For them, the crying and sadness didn’t lead to catharsis, or if it did, it was an unsatisfying catharsis, a stunted one.

Maybe their negative reactions were due to never having watched movies like The Neverending Story as kids. Maybe their discomfort with sadness was because they didn’t experience it in the stories they read and watched in childhood. Because they never had to process something as traumatic as Artax’s death when they were little, they couldn’t find value or meaning in some of the sad books that were part of the curriculum in high school. Maybe for them, stories needed not just a happy ending, but a kind of pervasive always-happiness that never allowed for anything too bad to happen. There might be danger and peril, but nothing would ever go too far.

Or maybe their discomfort with sad movies was because their lives were already too difficult and traumatic, and there truly was no value in living through someone’s fictional trauma. Maybe they needed those always-happy stories because they needed a total escape from whatever bleakness was in their lives already.

I honestly don’t know why some of these students rejected the sad books for their sadness, but I don’t think their rejection of them was illegitimate. I just know that for me, these sad stories made me feel less alone. Sometimes the danger and peril went “too far,” and the characters had to suffer, but that suffering connected me to them in ways that went very deep.

Artax’s death is a “too far” moment: a horrible, shocking event that has no last-minute save. When he dies, he dies. And Atreyu must mourn.

But his death isn’t the end. The quest must continue, or else the entire universe gets destroyed by the Nothing. That was a powerful moment for me, watching Artax die and seeing that Atreyu couldn’t change or fix it. And that he still needed to keep going even after his friend’s death.

Maybe if we talk about it as a family and help our daughter both prepare for the scene and also process it afterward, maybe then we can watch The Neverending Story. One of the joys of being a parent is sharing my favorite stories with my kids. We’ve listened to some of the Little House on the Prairie and Chronicles of Narnia books on audio, we’ve read all the Frog and Toads, we’ve watched all the original Muppet movies, and we’ve spent many a Saturday morning watching Pee Wee’s Playhouse.

Now, perhaps, it’s time to ride on the back of a luck dragon and watch The Neverending Story. And we can all cry together.

Works in Progress April 2023

April 3, 2023 / / 1 Comment

Since finishing both Avalon Summer and Gates to Illvelion, I haven’t been idle, though I do wish I was further along with my draft of the second Merlin book. I’ve written a few short stories that I’ve been sending out to different magazines, but so far, no luck.

And I’ve started drafting another novel, Norse City Limits, a story which I’ve had rolling around in my brain for almost ten years.

When I was in college, I took a class called “Icelandic Sagas,” and we read a whole bunch of them: Njal’s Saga, the Volsunga Saga, Grettir’s Saga, and a host of shorter sagas.

I always thought the style of the saga writers reminded me of the way screenwriters write screenplays: terse description, a focus on dialogue and action, and a point of view that resembles the “camera-eye-view” we get in a script. There’s no room for inner monologue; the thoughts and feelings of the characters are expressed in conversation and action. To my mind, these sagas worked a lot like the old film noir/hard-boiled movies from Hollywood’s Golden Age: fate and bad luck often played a huge role, society was controlled by a few rich and powerful networks that often manipulated the system to maintain power, and down-on-their-luck individuals had to find a way to survive in a hostile environment that answered only to money or force.

So Norse City Limits is my idea for melding Icelandic sagas with film noir. I know mixing hard-boiled fiction with fantasy stuff isn’t anything new (it’s Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files or Kevin Hearne’s Iron Druid, right?), but I really love film noir and I really love the Icelandic sagas and the Norse legends and mythology that they’re infused with, so I wanted to write my own version of this urban fantasy staple.

For Norse City Limits, my main character is not going to be a detective, but instead a “regular Joe” who is down on his luck and trapped in a bad situation. Much more of an Out of the Past situation than a Big Sleep one.

I’m hoping that Norse City, the fictional island metropolis that is cut off from the rest of the world, will serve as a setting for other books inspired by the sagas. Norse City Limits book 1 is partially based on Grettir’s Saga, but it’s not a retelling of that story. It’s more of a jumping-off point for an original tale of my own invention.

I’m not a very fast writer — partly because I need a lot of time for thinking and exploring, and what often looks like procrastinating is really my way of letting my brain ruminate on things — but, despite the way my brain works, I’m trying to write 2500 words per day (with Saturdays a little bit less, and no writing on Sundays). I know I have to work up to that amount, a bit like a runner working up to a 5k or a marathon, but I figure 2500 per day isn’t too high of a goal for now.

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