Guest Post by Mark Charan Newton: Six Influences on the Legends of the Red Sun Series

Six months isn't such a long time at all, really. It's the halfway point between birthdays; it's the time it takes for Winter to turn into Summer, for the snow to become sun; it's how often you go on holiday, if you're anything like me. But let me tell you. In internet years - they're like dog years, only more nebulous - The Speculative Scotsman is positively claiming its pension. Sometimes it feels like I've been at this for ever, and so it's a pleasure, from time to time, to hand over the reigns to someone else. I don't do it terribly often - I'm not at all good at letting go, even temporarily - but this one time, in aid of the ongoing celebrations here on the blog, I'm making an exception.

Without further ado, then, it gives me great pleasure to welcome the one and the only Mark Charan Newton to TSS. Mayhap you've heard of him?

But enough of my burbling. Over to you, Mark...

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One of the things I'm conscious of, as a writer, is to leave a trail of clues littered through my books so that people can see where I've been inspired by other writers. It's important to acknowledge these things. So, textual clues aside, here are six books which helped shape the construction of my own books, to varying degrees.

 

1) The Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell. Now any such lists invite pretentious selections, but invoking this metaphysical classic of the 1950s isn't me trying to appear clever - I learned a very important lesson about what book sequences can do from reading Durrell's stylish masterpiece. Each book in the series undermines the previous novel, and minor characters suddenly become the focal point, giving the reader a completely different understanding on what went before. It was a revelation, and made me instantly consider such subtle tricks in my own books.

2) The Scar by China Miéville. I've harped on about this book in many places and interviews, but suffice to say I wouldn't be writing today if I my imagination had not been inspired by this book. Reading this was the first time I realised what fantasy fiction could achieve in scope and ambition. I remain somewhat disappointed by the lack of true weird wow-factor in the genre (though it does exist with writers such as Erikson or Gaiman, for example). It strikes me as if some writers are reluctant to put much radical fantasy in their fantasy fiction, which I admit is my own personal taste - I don't have any agenda here. Because of my perceived shortage of such weirdness at the time, I thought I'd have a go at writing my own book. So I did.

3) The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. In City of Ruin readers will meet a new character called Voland. Bulgakov's mesmerising political satire contains a character called Woland, which was, in turn, linked to Goethe's Faust (the knight Voland - a demon), and so I wanted that satanic force to appear again, but in my new guise (though I've made a few connections apparent). I won't go into too much detail, since I'll leak spoilers everywhere. But if people want a unique spin on good and evil (and a thousand other themes) then you could do worse than take a trip through Bulgakov's Moscow.

4) The Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe. It's the definitive dying earth book, and outclasses Jack Vance's series for depth and imagery (though certainly not for madness). Whilst I can understand why readers would be frustrated with Wolfe's prose, I found this to be a beautiful book with so many layers, and it really captured the mood of how I viewed my own series. It informs much of how I view the dying earth sub-genre. I mean, you only have to look at the similar series title to see I'm conscious of this literary debt.

5) The Wallander crime series by Henning Mankell. My guilty pleasure is that I'm a huge fan of the detective Wallander, and Mankell's bleak Swedish crime series has been endlessly good fun for me when I wanted something a little less intensive to read. They're not mere entertainment though – they're very clever. In later books, Wallander constantly finds himself up against a certain political or social frustration, and I very much wanted to replicate such matters in my own books. Fantasy books don't have to just be entertainment (that should be a minimum) - if you want to talk about a theme or an issue, then where's the shame in that?

6) The Book of Imaginary Beings by Jorge Luis Borges. Mythology informs much of my work - in fact, as the series unfolds, it will become apparent just how much the world depends on mythology. And there's no way to deny that I love a good monster – who doesn't? Borges's bestiary is a wonderful A to Z of, well, monsters, creatures from different cultures and mythologies – and specifically in my case, the garuda came from this resource. If you want one book where you can quickly look up a beastie to put in your own writing, then this is it.

How We Read: An Addendum

As if they've anything left to prove, the incredible community that's built up around SF&F in fiction and in film last week wowed this humble blogger with their considered response to the first feature to grace the front page of The Speculative Scotsman. There's another such article in the works, never fear, and I'm as excited as all get-out about this one, too, though I'm keeping the details close to my chest for now.

In the meantime, I thought it would be a fine idea to highlight the best of the comments and responses to Had We Worlds Enough and Time in a post of their very own. TS was first to answer the question I'd posed - how do you read?

"These days I'm also a slow reader.

"The start of the book is usually the slowest going. I'll read a chapter or two, set the book aside until tomorrow. Somewhere in the middle, I'll speed up because I'm more invested in the story. Usually 1/4 to the end I'll be sitting in the near dark late at night only moving because otherwise I'll get a cramp."

I find myself in almost complete agreement with this reader. Starting out with a new novel is always the hardest part, but the further along the road I get, the more I'm drawn in, the easier I find it to ignore all the other things I could and very likely should be doing to keep reading into the wee hours.

ediFanoB of Only The Best Sci-Fi/Fantasy has some sage advice, too:

"Every month I put together a list of books I want to read. Mostly six books... Normally I try to find three hours per day for reading. Sometimes it is difficult due to my work."

The Speculative Scotsman could certainly learn a thing or two from this suggestion. I've always got a pile of books I mean to read, not least because of the review copies that are now trickling in day by day, and I do try to dedicate a couple of hours each day to whatever I'm reading at the moment, but as ediFanoB says, it can sometimes be difficult; real life often picks the least opportune moments to intervene while you're in the middle of a great story. Nonetheless, a bit of self-regulation could do me the world of good.

Meanwhile, the lovely Amanda of Floor-to-Ceiling Books had this to say:

"I skim read, I guess... I want to read as much as possible, but it does mean that as little as days after I've finished a book I can only remember sketchy details. The positive is that I can pick up a book for a second and third time and read it again with as much enjoyment - not remembering some of the little plot twists - and each time picking out some new detail I missed the first time."

Now I'd dispute that 90 books a year is "slow" reading by any stretch - last year I managed through perhaps 40 novels - but Amanda makes some excellent points. When the last issue of Granta arrived, with an ad for Paul Auster's Invisible, it took a few long minutes before I realised I'd already read it in a single sitting just months ago. Great book, by the way... I think.

The great Mark Charon Newton - author of Nights of Viljamur and the forthcoming City of Ruin - stopped by to offer his $0.02 as well:

"There seems to be a culture these days to read as many books as possible, which I don't think does the reader or the writer any justice... I must say, the writing eats up a good deal of what used to be reading time. And the internet eats away at a lot too, which I'm trying to control (not easy when you're watching any debate)."

Which reminds me of a lamentable by-product of all this blogging. One thing I've damn near stopped doing since launching The Speculative Scotsman is writing my own fiction. I really must get back to a few shorts I'd begun before the new year before my inspiration is lost to the ether, but making my presence felt in a blogosphere that was ticking over just fine without TSS has taken precedence in January. I regret nothing!

But Mark, I think I speak for the entire community when I say, if other books interfere with the progress of Legends of the Red Sun: stop reading, man, and get on with that next book! :P

Bryce of Seak's Stamp of Approval and another Mark, this one from the excellent Walker of Worlds blog, seem to agree that the style of the novel you're currently devouring has as much to with how we read as anything else. As Mark Chitty puts it:

"It all depends for me, if it's a book that I've been waiting for and the prose is to my taste then I can devour a book in a day or two. If it's done in a style that I struggle with then it will take anywhere up to a couple of weeks, or longer."

I'd agree wholeheartedly. You can read the TSS review of Best Served Cold here for a more thorough explanation of my feelings about Joe Abercrombie's relentless revenge fantasy, but suffice it to say I spent something like 10 days reading that, while managing through three admittedly shorter books in the week since. I would add, however, that I tend to be rather intimidated by longer novels, and that surely affects my own drive to read.

Mark also developed his point of view on the questions raised by Had We Worlds Enough and Time did with a post on his own blog, which I'd recommend you catch up on via this link and duly get involved in the conversation - if you haven't already, that is.

I'm going to conclude this addendum with a response from Black_Dog_Diary, who has no site that I can pimp for what will become obvious reasons. I think her comment represents a perspective that few of us in the blogosphere take proper account of:

"I used to read prolifically, but... now I have a life with 2 boys under 5 and a full time paid job & another full time unpaid job, being wife & mother. At the end of each day I am, frankly, spent. I have a pile of books by the bed, and probably 2 nights a week I return to the latest read before falling asleep. I arrange the pillows, get comfortable and read until I find myself backtracking & re-reading sentences & paragraphs because I was too tired to get the gist of what was trying to be expressed."

Often, it's not that the desire to read has faded in any sense, only the opportunity to. In some (selfish) ways, I dread the day my other half comes through with The News, not because it wouldn't be wonderful - truly, it would be; what more worthwhile pursuit is there in our meager existences than making new life? - but because it would mean I'd necessarily have less time to indulge myself in the books I love so much.

Then again, a baby would be something to love immeasurably more than even a new China Mieville. And I could read to it, couldn't I?

It's been a pleasure to add even such a small thing to the great conversation taking place amongst the lovely SF&F community, and it wouldn't be possible without you, dear readers. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and respond to The Speculative Scotsman's first feature post - those of you who didn't make it into this addendum equally as much as those of you whose comments did.

From Your Blogosphere Correspondent (08/01/10)

A myriad of developments and disagreements have over the past few days made the speculative fiction blogosphere a particularly entertaining place to be. Conveniently, The Speculate Scotsman thought to round a few of the best articles up for your reading pleasure. In no particular order, then:

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  There's a debate in progress about the appropriateness of describing prose as "clunky" in literary criticism. Hal Duncan, author of Ink and Vellum, looks to have challenged Mark Charon Newton, staunch proponent of the New Weird if Nights of Villjamur is anything to judge by, to all-out internet warfare. This link will get you started.
  
  
  

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  The most recent episode of Alex Telander's podcast played host to none other than Guy Gavriel Kay, who discusses at some length the research he undertook before beginning the process of writing his forthcoming Tang-dynasty epic Under Heaven. Download or stream it from the Book Banter blog.
  
  
  

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  Joe Hill, successor to Stephen King - and not just in terms of their shared DNA - recently updated his blog with the results of an extensive Twitter Q&A session about his new novel, Horns. There should be a more thorough preview of it on the blog this week.
  
  
  

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  Here's hoping Mark Charon Newton might have something to say about James Long's recent assertion at Speculative Horizons that the New Weird genre is growing less relevant by the day. The suggestion has been the subject of some interesting discussion beginning here.
  
  
  

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  And finally, Pat from the one and only Fantasy Hotlist somehow charmed author Peter V. Brett into sharin with the internet at large an excerpt from his April sequel to The Painted Man. If you just can't wait, read it here.