Bargain Books | Speculative Fiction for Free

I don't know why, exactly, but whatever the impetus is, the effect is excellent: if you haven't already bought copies of Speculative Fiction 2012 and Speculative Fiction 2013, Jurassic London's exemplary collections of the best online reviews, commentaries and essays—both of which I'm honoured to be included in—for a limited time you can grab the digital editions from Amazon for nada.

But be quick about it, my pretties! Through today and tomorrow, both volumes of the Hugo- and British Fantasy Award-nominated anthology are completely free, but they'll be back at their usual price before you know it.

Then again, with every penny of the proceeds going to Room to Read, it might actually be better, ethically, to wait till you can put a few pounds down...

Status Update | Google Drive of Doom

Last week, something horrible happened. Not something properly horrible—nobody's dead or anything, thank the heavens—but something went wrong behind the scenes of The Speculative Scotsman. Something that's made me more than a little miserable since.

Long story short: I broke the blog.

Long story long: I got myself a fancy new phone a month or so ago, namely an HTC One M8. It's proved a huge improvement on the Samsung Galaxy S2 I'd been toting about essentially since the turn of the century; hasn't hurt that it's so easy on the eye either.

In any event, it's an Android, so it's tied to Google from the ground up: the opposite of a problem insofar as it automatically imported most everything I needed from my old mobile. My contacts and whatnot. My pictures and preferences. Then, when I took a few photos, Google Drive offered to store them in the cloud. I said sure.

This was my first mistake.

I made my second when Google Drive decided to start syncing the thousands of images tied to my email address, which, as it happens, is also my Blogger login—to wit, every picture I had ever embedded in posts on TSS was about to be backed up. This seemed an almighty waste of space and time to yours truly, so I deleted these files from the list of images to sync. What I didn't realise I was doing was deleting the images from the internet as well.

Didn't take long for the penny to drop, but by then, the damage was done.

And here we are. Since bodging the blog, I've spent any number of hours uploading old images. It's taken days—days I don't have—but I've managed to redo 2014 to date. Only four more years of posts to go!

So if you were wondering what I've been so busy with in recent weeks: this. And I'm afraid I'm far from finished fixing my fuck-up. One day, eh?

In the interim, I ask only for your patience, dear readers. That said, your sympathies wouldn't go amiss...

Status Update | An Evil Easter

Over the Easter weekend, I was beside myself with surprise to find that I had a few hours free.

To be clear, this has not been the norm for me recently. Indeed, it's been brutal hereabouts this year: at home, 2014 to date has been a combination of sickness and sadness, and at work, with most of my students sitting their English exams soon, trying to keep on top of my various other obligations has been hard... hence the lack of late of what I want to call casual content here on The Speculative Scotsman.

With a little luck, though, that should be sorted shortly, and given the wonderful weather this weekend—oh what fun it was to sit in the sun!—suddenly it feels like summer is nearly here. I won't give anything away today, but I have big plans for the holidays, when they happen. Plans that I've been hatching for a period of years.

In any event, this weekend, I found myself with a few extra hours, and I deliberately did something different with them. Something I wasn't sure I ever would do. Readers... I started playing a certain game.

And I discovered, despite my doubts, that I am prepared to die. Again and again and again, in a cycle of violence I was sure would make me hateful. But it hasn't so far. How about that?

That's really all I wanted to say. Dark Souls II has dibs on the rest of my day. :)

But hey, if there are any old hands out there, a few words of advice for a Dark Souls amateur would be very welcome.

Guest Post | The 5 Guest Posts I’ll Never ($^#*&^@) Write by Kameron Hurley

God's War is a Very Good Book. I confess I'm yet to read the rest of the Bel Dame Apocrypha—in my defense, the series is only now being rolled out locally—but when the author approached me about composing a potential guest post for you folks, I don't mind admitting how warmly I welcomed the suggestion.

Immediately I started wondering what I could possibly talk her into. Kameron Hurley has written some incredibly progressive pieces in the past—like this essay for A Dribble of Ink, currently being mooted for a Hugo—but she also writes a lot of lists. And I... I don't love lists. 

But a list with a difference? A list about lists? The more I mulled what had begun as a joke over, the more I realised how interested I'd be in reading her response. And to Kameron's credit, as you'll see, she took my suggestion (almost) completely seriously.

***

So, it’s guest post season for me, with work, here, here, here, here, and here and... oh, you don’t even want to see my calendar for the rest of January.

Let’s get meta instead.

When you approach bloggers for guests posts (as I approached Niall), it’s often best to ask them if there’s a particular topic they’re interested in. It’s their house, after all, and it makes sense to pick a topic of interest to their readership. Funny enough, Niall sort of (flippantly, I think) asked me what five guest posts I wouldn't write if somebody asked... and that got me thinking. 

Because, dear reader, though I’ll happily talk about health crises, institutionalized racism, and critique the SFWA—there are some topics these days that I won’t touch. 

Milestones | 1000 and Counting

Way back when, in January 2010, I launched The Speculative Scotsman. Why? In large part because I wanted to talk to the world about Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay: a book that moved me hugely.

I wasn't sure what I'd do with a blog about genre fiction in all its multifarious forms afterwards, but I figured I'd cross that bridge when I came to it, and I did, I think. I had a tower of books to be read even then, and The Speculative Scotsman, in the beginning, gave me a great excuse to dig into it a little.

It wasn't long before review copies of new novels started arriving, lending the site some small sense of acceptance, but the icing on the great cake came when, to my surprise and delight, a few of my favourite bloggers blogged about this new blogger they'd noticed.

Me, I realised. Me! :)

It'd be a fib to say I haven't looked back since. I have, from time to time. I've struggled to keep up the pace; I've come close to burning out on books; I've lost my faith in fiction only to find it again, and again, and again. For a blogger, this is par for the course, of course. These questions come with the territory.

And what with the superblogs out there — the Tor.coms and the IO9s — the landscape looks a lot different today than it did then: one of the many ways I've been feeling my age of late. Between that and suddenly turning 30, I just don't have the energy I used to. I can't compete: that's clear.

But this was never about winning; this was about sharing something. Something special. Something I crave as much today as I did in the beginning.

Today, in any case, marks a very special blogaversary for me. One I wasn't sure I'd ever see, because sometimes it has been hard. But never mind my more maudlin moments: the vast majority of the time it's been absolute magic. Blogging is in my blood now. I don't know what I'd do without it. Without you, in truth.

This is the thousandth post I've published on The Speculative Scotsman. I can't imagine I have another thousand in me, but together... together we'll see, won't we?

Now, because it seems so fitting I can't resist, I'm off to celebrate with some Guy Gavriel Kay...

Status Update | A Lion King Christmas

I don't know about you, but with Christmas day just a week away, I'm finally feeling festive.

Not least because last night I realised a dream more than a decade in the making, when the entirety of my family got together to attend a performance of The Lion King live. Simba's spotty performance did not ultimately undermine what was a wonderful show overall; a real visual feast that I'm so pleased to have seen.

I've been humming 'Be Prepared' ever since leaving the theatre, and this morning it occurred to me that I could do worse things in life than take Scar's advice.

Which is my way of saying that though I'm usually one of the very first folks to bang on about the year's best books — Top of the Scots has in the past happened in early December — in 2013 my other obligations have regrettably had to take precedence. I've had to stockpile columns, including this morning's edition of the British Genre Fiction Focus, and ready a fair few reviews to run on Tor.com over the holidays. Truth be told, I've been so busy in November and December to date that it only just hit me that Christmas is coming.

And you know what? I want to enjoy it, so instead of spending the few days remaining to me this year putting together Top of the Scots, I'm going to give myself over to the Christmas spirit. To wit, I warrant you won't be hearing a whole lot from me over the holidays, but when I do get back to blogging, it will be worth the wait. Scots honour!

For a sneak peek at a few of my favourites, check out the Tor.com Reviewers' Choice, in which I count down the three best British books I've read in 2013. I've contributed to another end of year feature as well: Strange Horizons has a few hundred words from me about the books I've gotten most lost in this year.

Now to lose myself in festive merriment...

You all have a brilliant Christmas, and a happy New Year, you hear?

Season's Greetings | Happy Thanksgiving

So I hear a bunch of you all are on holiday this weekend, the better to celebrate something called Thanksgiving...

I kid, of course. As a matter of fact, I've incorporated writing exercises inspired by Thanksgiving into all the classes it's been my pleasure to teach this week, thinking it would be no bad thing to make a few folks aware of all they have that they should be thankful for, rather than moping in the Great British tradition over what they do not.

Today, in any case, it's my turn. Because I do not do what I do in a vacuum. I could not. I would not. To wit, I'd like to take this opportunity to say how grateful I am.

To my fellow readers and reviewers, then: thanks, first of all, for continuing to visit The Speculative Scotsman, and for pointing me in the direction of some terrific new reading material. For talking to me in the comments, and for engaging elsewhere in debates that could make the publishing industry a more positive place.

To the editors who make my work a little prettier, and to the publicists who make the inevitable administrative bit of this business a pleasure as opposed to a chore: I say thankee, sai.

Last but not least, I'd like to give thanks to the authors whose wonderful worlds make my own that much more interesting. I can't imagine my life without you and the work you do.

So whether you're in North America or not: happy Thanksgiving, guys. Do enjoy your food... and your fake football! :)

The Scotsman Abroad | Summiting Mount Mind Meld

A little while ago, I received an email from the esteemed Paul Weimer, wondering whether I'd be interested in participating in the latest Mind Meld he was putting together. It was an absolute honour to be asked, so of course I agreed immediately.

But what with everything else that's been going on in my neck of the woods in recent weeks, this past weekend was the first opportunity I had to work on my response, and as it happens, I had just caught a cold from the wicked children I tutor when I'm not silly busy reviewing books.

Determined not to disappoint, I managed to put a piece together in any event, and though I hardly remember writing it, seeing it on the Hugo Award-winning SF Signal this morning — alongside responses from Cheryl Morgan, Ian Sales, Anne Lyle, Lou Anders and a goodly number of others — I'm really rather pleased with how my first contribution to the Mind Meld turned out. It's as much a reflection on how I approach Mount To-be-read today as it is an accounting of the books that are in my bedside cabinet at the moment:

I warrant we all have our own ways of describing the groups of books we mean to read. Mount To-be-read works for me, but mostly because it suggests something more; something I can’t help but correlate with all the climbing I did as a kid. 

Maybe climbing isn’t the right way to describe the year-round hobby my dad and I had. Hillwalking was what we were about. Come rain or shine, sun or snow, my Munro Bagger of a father always had some summit in mind. 

Many climbs I quite liked. But there were others. Bog-ridden slogs. Hills that went on and on and on, only to end in anti-climax: a beautiful view obscured by overcast clouds, or a chance meeting with other people — and up there in the middle of nowhere, that tended to cheapen the experience. 

Part of the problem was that my dad was far fitter than I. Matter of fact, he still is — as evidenced by the last hill we walked. That is to say, we climb together to this day, though rather less often now than then. Then, I hardly had a lot of choice in the matter... thus there were times when I hated the hills. I hated how hard they were, how fleeting the feeling of overcoming one when the next was only ever a weekend away. 

Sound familiar?

I may repost my response in full here on The Speculative Scotsman at a later date, but a large part of the pleasure of the Mind Mend, for me at least — and I've been following the feature for years — is seeing how differently every participant responds to the selfsame question; how one response reflects and refracts the others around it.

So please, head on over to SF Signal and read today's most excellent Mind Meld in its entirety.

Status Update | Reading After Reader

Well, today's the day. Google Reader is officially no more.

And you know what? I don't miss it one whit!

Many thanks to everyone who commented on last week's You Tell Me, or took to Twitter to advise me on my options. On Tuesday I started testing two of the recommended feed readers: Feedly and Bloglovin, with Netvibes and The Old Reader on standby if neither one worked out.

The trouble is, both did.

I'll say that Bloglovin seems like a great way to get your blog out there. To social network it a bit. But I'm a grumpy old man, and I begrudge social networking at best — hence my sporadic record on Twitter and Google Plus.

I suppose I gravitated more immediately towards Feedly, which I really appreciate the look and feel of — especially the tablet app... though I dare say it still has a way to go, and no widget support for the moment.

What sealed the deal for me, at the end of the day, was that I couldn't find an easy way to save or favourite single posts for later through Bloglovin, and that's an integral part of how I keep up to speed with the folks I follow.

So Feedly it is, I think. At least for the time being. If the widgets don't do what I want them to on the appointed day, perhaps I'll go back to Bloglovin, or take the temperature of the other options you all took the time to inform me of.

In conclusion, choice is awesome. Thanks again for reminding me of that, readers.

You Tell Me | RIP, Reader

One week from today, as part of their second annual spring cleaning, Google will retire their ubiquitous Reader.

I've known about this for months, and I still don't have a clue what I'm going to do!

Here's why Google are "sunsetting" the service:

We know Reader has a devoted following who will be very sad to see it go. We’re sad too.  

There are two simple reasons for this: usage of Google Reader has declined, and as a company we’re pouring all of our energy into fewer products. We think that kind of focus will make for a better user experience.

Not for Google Reader users. Of which there must be more than a few; more than a few million, I'd imagine. Evidently that's a significantly smaller a number than it once was — and what does that say about blogs, I wonder? — but be that as it may, Google are set to stamp out something some of us, yours truly included, use every damn day.

First and foremost, Google Reader helps me keep track of all the blogs I follow, which I see now number in the hundreds. I also use it each week to organise the news stories I plan to talk about over the course of the British Genre Fiction Focus. I've never given Google a penny for the service, but I would have been well and truly willing to.

If they'd only asked! But Google don't do that, do they? And it's not like they need my pennies anyway.

Time, I think, to look on the bright side. To find a better alternative, because whether or not Google agrees, I need something to help me keep up to speed with all the shenanigans that happen when I'm otherwise occupied. And maybe this mystery service will be better than the nearly dearly departed product — which, let's face it, is at best pretty basic.

That's where you folks come in, fingers crossed, because I simply don't know where to start looking for a replacement feed reader. So please, you tell me!

But I Digress | The Limits of Cinema

It's been a while since I blogged about movies.

Truth be told, though, it's been a while since I saw anything particularly interesting.

When I was a much younger man, I'd watch a movie every night, almost without exception. Admittedly, a lot of the movies I watched during these grass-is-greener years were utter rubbish... but I knew that, even then. To an extent, I revelled in it, because I was also aware that I was living through a period of unequalled freedom; that it would be a long, long time before I had so many hours to spend on nothing of note.

That's very much the case these days, I'm afraid. 

When the opportunity to sit down with a film presents itself, the first thought that crosses my one track mind is: That's however many hours I could spend reading the next book in the review queue! And all too often, my nasty adult brain baulks at the prospect. Invariably, I end up doing something responsible instead. Mowing the lawn or preparing a class or rewriting a review.

I do realise that going to the cinema isn't in itself an irresponsible act, but I do feel like a negligent person when I follow my heart instead of my head. And perhaps that's played into my feelings about the occasional films I have seen this year. I thought Cloud Atlas would be awesome. It wasn't. Ambitious, absolutely, but really rather flat. Mama, meanwhile, is a singularly silly film.

I can't even remember what else there was.

These are films I would have watched quite happily when I was a smaller Scotsman. Enjoyed, even. Today, they feel like a waste. Of my time, which obviously there's less of than there was then.

I'm getting old, I guess.

On the other hand, I realise how self-fulfilling my attitude to movies at the moment is. If I won't give a film the time of day, then of course I won't see one that changes my mind. So for the last little while, I've been on the hunt for something extraordinary.

Today, I have likely candidate, the poster of which was recently released:

Fingers crossed it doesn't disappoint!

Not unrelatedly, I've just ordered a copy of Upstream Color. Primer blew my mind back in the day, and though I don't expect that of this, something reminiscent is all I really need. A reminder that cinema can be as profound and affecting as the best written fiction.

Because it can, can't it?

The Scotsman Abroad | Speculative Fiction 2012

You're probably sick and tired of hearing about Speculative Fiction 2012 already, but you know what? I'm not. I'll talk about this collection of formerly online criticism and insight till the cows come home.

Indeed I have done. It's given me something tangible to point people towards when explaining what I do on a daily basis; here, finally, is a physical thing that showcases why being a blogger is so meaningful to me. What I take from the community, and what I like to think I give to it.

Which is to say, by God, guys: I've been published! And look at the stunning company I seem to be keeping:

How do you write female characters with agency? What did J. R. R. Tolkien learn from Attila the Hun? What is it like to be a dragon? Is science fiction stuck in a rut? The Internet has the answers. Speculative Fiction 2012 collects over fifty articles from some of the top bloggers and authors in science fiction and fantasy, including over two dozen reviews. Contributors include Joe Abercrombie, Daniel Alexander, Kate Elliott, N. K. Jemisin, Aidan Moher, Abigail Nussbaum, Christopher Priest, Adam Roberts, Tansy Rayner Roberts, Sam Sykes and Lavie Tidhar.

That's the product description of the first edition of this awesome annual anthology on Amazon, and if you look closely, you'll see I've been hybridised with Daniel effing Abraham, who said of this obscenity yesterday: "If I have to be transporter-mushed with someone like a postmodern remake of The Fly, Niall will do just fine."

To which I can only add... likewise! But let's not with all the horrible vomiting.

Restraining myself from blogging about Speculative Fiction 2012 till today has been torture of the highest order, so I'm beside myself with excitement to finally get this thing out of my system.

In case you were wondering why I've waited, well, I'm a believer in timely buying advice rather than getting my reviewer's foot in first, and the collection only came out today. I can't recommend Speculative Fiction 2012 highly enough... not because I'm in it, or because it features many much better bloggers and authors that I, but because it serves in a very real sense to legitimise what we have here.

In closing, I'm going to hand it over to Jared and Justin of Pornokitsch and Staffer's Book Review respectively—the fine folks who took it upon themselves to produce this pièce de résistance:

Let’s be honest, no one takes us seriously. ‘Blogging’ is barely reviewing and certainly never ‘criticism’. We’re not paid, so we’re amateurs. We’re doing it for love, so we’re fans. Our opinions are merely our own, and not on behalf of a higher authority, like a newspaper or magazine. While our work sticks around, you’re only as good as your last post. And once something is off the front page, it might as well be gone forever... 

Speculative Fiction 2012 is meant to showcase the best of that passion. We’re not journalists, scholars or authors. Or, even if we are (we’re not), we’re contributing to the discussion because we love it. From our perspective, this kind of work deserves to be collected, immortalised, and substantiated. Literally.

If you'd like to buy a copy of the anthology, here's a link to the product page on Amazon.co.uk. If you're based in the USA, this is the link to click.

Whatever proceeds there are will go to Room to Read, so the more, the merrier.

One last thing before I bid you adieu: if you're interested in talking to some of the bloggers and authors behind the scenes of Speculative Fiction 2012, there's going to be an Ask Me Anything session on Reddit on May 2nd.

I don't really know what that means, but I'll try to figure it out before next Thursday. It's for a fantastic cause, after all. Literally.

Giving the Game Away | Among Other Things

It's been a quiet couple of weeks here on The Speculative Scotsman, hasn't it?

Sincerely, I'm sorry about that. I've been meaning to blog about any number of things, but I just haven't had the chance till today. I've been sick as a dog, you see, and what little time I've had with my wits about me I've had no choice but to dedicate to deadlines, which of course grow ever more pressing the longer you put them off.

Funny how that happens.

Anyway, as of today, the most desperate of my deadlines are defeated, and I'm officially over the worst of whatever it was that ruined my Easter week, so expect regular service to resume soon.

For the very moment, before we get any further out from the Among Others giveaway so many of you fine folks entered, allow me to announce the lucky winners. They are:

• Darren Goldsmith
• Kristini Wilde
• and Kunal Modi

If you so happen to be one of these three people, expect a brief email from me later today to confirm your details. Then, thanks to the kindness of the fine folks at Constable & Robinson, a copy of the brand new British edition of Jo Walton's wonderful novel will wing its way to wherever you are.

Massive congratulations to the winners—and commiserations, of course, to the less lucky. There's always next time!

Now in advance of a full-fledged post here on TSS, I've blogged a bunch about Iain Banks in the latest edition of the British Genre Fiction Focus, as I said I would last week when the devastating news about his health broke. Later on, there's discussion of a number of other stories—including Joe Abercrombie's comic book and the hundred best novels ever according to a superteam of teachers—but truth be told, today's column is mostly an ode to Iain Banks, whose work has always occupied a special place in my dark heart.

With that, I'll say good day. But there'll be more to look forward to tomorrow, I promise!

Status Update | A River of Reviews

I'm back again, guys! 

For serious this time, because the most pressing of the deadlines I returned to has been defeated. I don't want to jinx the thing by naming it now, but you'll see what I was working so hard on shortly, I'm sure.

So what is there to look forward to on The Speculative Scotsman now that I'm back in the saddle? Well, any number of things. I've read a bunch of great books lately, including Life After Life, the new Patrick Ness and another awesome novel from the author of The Explorer. Reviews of all of those and more are forthcoming, of course.

Plus, I just got an email telling me that my copy of Bioshock Infinite will be with me tomorrow morning. You can bet your last penny that I'll blog about the sequel to my single favourite video game in some way, shape or form... just as soon as I've gotten my grubby paws on it.

There are guest posts and giveaways on the calendar also. Speaking of which, I have the winners of the Among Others competition to announce...

I'm hoping to write up a few comics this week as well. I finally finished Northlanders, then in quick succession read The New Deadwardians, Scott Snyder's Court of the Owls arc in Batman, and last but not least, Grant Morrison's latest miniseries, Happy, made me happy.

If I had all the time in the world you'd hear about all of these. But what do you know? I don't! So I'm going to throw this one open: which comic book would you folks be most interested in hearing more about? If there can be only one, which one?

In other news, have you heard about Speculative Fiction 2012 yet? It's to be an annual anthology collecting, and I quote, "The Best Online Reviews, Essays and Commentary," and it features, of all people, me! Alongside fifty-odd other, better bloggers, obviously. No-one's been mad enough to give me my own book just yet. 

I'll certainly discuss Speculative Fiction 2012 in more detail at a later date, but for the moment, check out the list of contributors on Staffer's Book Review.

What incredible company to be keeping!

But I must be off. Tomorrow, I'm going to run my review of Gideon's Angel, a swashbuckling historical novel by Clifford Beal... then on Wednesday, it gives me immense pleasure to announce that the author will be stopping by to talk about fact, fiction and a third way to tell the world about what once was.

After that? Well, we'll see how the wind blows, won't we?

But I Digress | On What Bookish Begot

Does the world need yet another website about books?

Well, that's exactly what Bookish is: a shiny new community revolving around a recommendation engine.

But before you lose interest entirely, it's actually quite clever. I told Bookish about my thing for China Mieville; it recommended I read Jeff VanderMeer. I fed it Tigana; Bookish responded with Tad Williams and Steven Erikson.

(Also Robin Hobb. Which makes me wonder if I should really be reading Robin Hobb. Thoughts?)

And all this while the engine's still in beta!

If the truth be told, though, I'm probably not in need of new books to read, and if I were, I'd really rather follow in the footsteps of a friend, or place my trust in one of the community's more reliable reviewers. But there are those, of course, without these fantastic facilities; without peers who share their interests, or absent access to (or tolerance for) certain social media.

And for those folks, Bookish could be brilliant.

If Twitter's any indication, however, news of the new resource has been met with a resounding meh. Why? I've heard the lack of user-generated content cited as a particularly singular reason why Bookish is irrelevant, or just utter rubbish. But even at this early stage, users can submit quotes, reviews, and I don't know what else.

Why the single-minded emphasis on user-generated content anyway? I appreciate the added value such integration represents at the best of times, but the cranky old man in me can't help but wonder, when are those? Where are those? In my experience of social media, opening the doors to all comers makes for a mixed bag of good and bad.

What's the problem with old-fashioned curated content anyway? Why does everything need to be about everyone?

Basically, why the hate for Bookish?

Does every medium have to be social to survive in this day and age? Let's face it: nothing is likely to supplant Facebook at this stage, so why risk ruining a good thing trying to put in hooks for users who won't care anyway?

But let's circle back to the first question I posed in this post: does the world need yet another website about books? Well no, of course not. But what's the harm in it, exactly? Indeed, when has the internet, and social media especially, ever been about need?

Top of the Scots 2012 | An Introduction

2012 has been a momentous year for me for many reasons. This will come as scant surprise to those of you who've been with me from its beginning, but The Speculative Scotsman has seen a surprising number of newcomers in recent weeks - where did you guys come from, I wonder? - so allow me to make plain my changed circumstances.

To begin with, I realised a lifelong dream back in March, spending a full month in America, and loving every minute of it. I've been itching to go again ever since I got home — and I pray will one day! But I'll need a better reason than "because" to justify the tremendous expense again.

Meanwhile, I went from submitting reviews very occasionally elsewhere to having my work paid for and published on a weekly basis. As many people as I reach here - and I'm grateful to every single visitor - the simple fact of the matter is that articles on Strange Horizons and Tor.com are destined to be read by more folks than those I post on TSS, so if I want to get the good word out there about a promising small press or an exciting new author, the decision isn't difficult... much as it sometimes pains me to make.

Last but not least, the part-time tutoring I started in doing in early 2011 became a full-fledged business in 2012, eating away more of my time than ever before, especially taken together with everything else. But I can't complain; I wouldn't even if I could! Teaching has been a terrific and enlightening experience. To be doing something so meaningful to make ends meet... I simply can't imaging going back on that.

Alas, all this has had an adverse effect: the free time I've had to read and write in years previous has taken a bit of a hit. Likewise the hours I tended to dedicate to gaming... not to mention the movie nights I used to look forward to. It's practically tragic how little of the year's most exciting cinema I've seen. 

But catching up is what holidays are all about, so I still plan to blog about 2012's finest films... albeit a little later than usual. Thus, this year, I'm going to stagger Top of the Scots somewhat, rather than blowing my whole load inside of a single week: the plan is to post The Best Movies in early January, after a bit of a break, alongside a category new to TSS.

Happily, I am still in a position to talk you through the year in speculative fiction forthwith — my thoughts on The Best Books of 2012 should be good to go this week.

And though the time I've spent with in other worlds than these has been rather reduced from previous periods, I put it to you that I've used it much more wisely. To wit: we'll kick Top of the Scots 2012 off properly tomorrow, with a long look at the The Best Games I've gamed this year.

Now you'll notice that Top of the Scots looks a little different than it has in the past. That's because - as well as adding an extra category - I've embiggened each of the blogs I've posted before, and split them down the middle.

And lo, there were two sections where once there was but one! Firstly, we'll talk about my Five Favourites., and afterwards, I'll give out several Other Awards - to Runners-Up amongst others, including Honourable Mentions, Glaring Oversights, and the year's Biggest Disappointments - before signing off with some fitting Final Thoughts.

And that's our introduction.

Remember: the excitement begins in earnest 24 hours from now!

Anyone want to hazard an early guess about what I'm going to go for?

On Blogging | Graeme's Fantasy Book Review, I Salute You!

Blogs come and blogs go. The longer you do this thing, the clearer that sad fact appears. But the great and the good live on in our hearts and our minds, even after they're long gone. I often find myself thinking fondly of Floor-to-Ceiling Books, for instance, amongst myriad others.

But of all the blogs I've followed, and of all the friends I've made since becoming a part of this literary lark, good sir Graeme Flory and his absolutely fabulous Fantasy Book Review may have impressed the most lasting mark upon me — and The Speculative Scotsman as well. Never mind for the moment how prolific Graeme was as a blogger, how funny and insightful and kind in his writing and in real life: he taught zombies and honesty, and he taught them better than anyone else. 

So it's with sorrow in my otherwise impenetrable Scotch soul that I must inform you of the end of an era. Graeme's Fantasy Book Review closed its doors early yesterday... and I suddenly felt frightfully lonely.

Here's Graeme's explanation:

It's been a little while coming but it's time to bring this blog to a close. Obviously there are a whole load of reasons (none of them particularly interesting to you guys) but the bottom line is that I'm not really enjoying it anymore and that means that it's time to stop. That's not to say that I won't come back, in the future, and start something up again; just not here. I've got some ideas but I just want to stop and chill out for a while.

[...] 

It's been a amazing experience but you have to know when it's time to stop. It's time to stop :o)

In the final comments section, there's already been an outpouring of support for one of the very best bloggers there ever was, or ever will be. but if you haven't yet added your two cents to the discussion, I urge you: please do.

Luckily, we only have to say goodbye to a blog. Though I seem to have written an obituary - what can I say? I'm sad - Graeme himself is still well and truly with us, and I'd bet my last penny that we'll be hearing from him again... perhaps in some other capacity... and fingers firmly crossed, sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, you can harass the man on Twitter @graemesfantasyb.

In fact, could someone perhaps ask him who in holy hell will review all the zombie novels ever now?

Not it! :P

Opinionated Speculations | Snob vs. Blog

So I had this whole other post all but good to go, then Mr Mark Charan Newton - author of The Legends of the Red Sun and The Lucan Drakenfeld Mysteries, which I'm awfully excited about - twittered a link to an article from The Guardian. The headline sorta says it all:

BOOK BLOGGERS ARE HARMING LITERATURE,

WARNS BOOKER PRIZE HEAD JUDGE

So proclaimeth Peter Stothard, lamenting the end of an era in his eyes. Specifically the era of literary criticism... because of bloggers. Because we're idiots and amateurs all!

This is nonsense, obviously. Then again, as one such charlatan, I would say that, wouldn't I?

If you haven't already, off you pop: read Alison Flood's interview in its entirety here — and give the comments a gloss if you have the time to. That's where the actual debate is taking place, after all... though it seems to me somewhat one-sided.

That said, it's easy to see why so many are railing against Stothard's comments. Essentially, his argument is that literary critics are in a sense superhuman; in their knowledge and understanding, in their wit and insight, literary critics, according to Stothard, stand apart and indeed above the opinion of the uninformed, unedited and one presumes unwashed that you and I number amongst. In this way the chair of the Booker Prize momentarily lowers himself to give us the bath we clearly dearly need.

Normal people, in other words, don't know what's good for them. Only literary critics do. Thus we should all shut up.

What whole-hogwash!

Or is it?

This may prove an unpopular opinion, but beneath Stothard's snobbery, I wonder if there isn't a glimmer of sense in his sentiments. Because there is a difference between bloggers and literary critics, isn't there? I don't believe it's half so simple as this old blowhard would have it - that one presents an argument whilst all the other has is an opinion - yet there is a split somewhere, surely.

I mean... take me. You all know I write for a fair few sites outside of The Speculative Scotsman, including Strange Horizons and The Science Fiction Foundation, but I certainly don't consider myself a literary critic, and I sincerely doubt many other bloggers would describe themselves thus.

Though please, feel free to disagree.

So there is, least as I see it, a difference. It's hardly killing literature, as per Stothard's discriminatory silliness, but it is changing it. Unrecognisably in certain respects.

For instance, folks tend to attribute Fifty Shades of Grey's mega-success to the phenomenon of self-publishing, but let's not kid ourselves: without word of mouth - without many millions of us contributing to that word of mouth, by blogging amongst other things - it would have come to nothing. In this case, literary critics can't be blamed. They had next to nothing to do with it.

And perhaps that's emblematic of what's really bothering Stothard. Because in ages past, literary critics did dominate. And now they do not. Now they're made to share the limelight with mere mortals.

How awful!

Quoth the Scotsman | Steven Erikson On Deconstructive Criticism

You may or may not realise that I'm basically AFK at the moment.

I haven't made a thing of it, and there's enough content on the roster for the next few weeks that the difference is likely to be minimal - plus I'll be tweeting and talking in the comments second as much if not more than as I usually do - but I've had to resolve to stop blogging for long enough to take in a few of the tomes that have arrived in my mailbox lately.

Which is to say, I have copies of Great North Road by Peter F. Hamilton, The Twelve by Justin Cronin, and Forge of Darkness by Steven Erikson — three huge books that I'd love to read. None of which I would, if I'm honest, unless I put the brakes on for a bit.

So that's what I'm going to do. In fact I've started, and I'm already reaping the rewards. Forge of Darkness has been absolutely fantastic so far: if not easy reading - far from it, actually - then nevertheless incredibly compelling. Thoughtful and evocative, powerfully put and smartly structured, this first volume of Erikson's dark Kharkanas saga engaged me from word one, once I made the decision to slow down for a moment.

But this is a Quoth the Scotsman post, so let's get to the quote in question!

It's of a conversation - from the very early going of the novel, so not at all a spoiler - that's stuck with me in a strange way. A dialogue about the relationship between art and art appreciation that speaks, in a sense, to my own relationship as a reviewer with the books I blog about.

First, a bit of scene-setting: over supper after a sitting, Urusander, so-called saviour of the Tiste people, attempts to express his opinion on the portrait in progress by the famous artist Kadaspala. But Kadaspala doesn't want to know what his subject thinks of the piece, for these reasons:

"When stripped down to its bones, criticism is a form of oppression. Its intent is to manipulate both artist and audience, by imposing rules on aesthetic appreciation. Curiously, its first task is to belittle the views of those who appreciate a certain work but are unable or unwilling to articulate their reasons for doing so. On occasion, of course, one of those viewers rises to the bait, taking umbrage at being dismissed as being ignorant, at which point critics en masse descend to annihilate the fool. No more than defending one's own precious nest, one presumes. But on another level, it is the act of those in power protecting their interests, those interests being nothing less than absolute oppression through the control of personal taste." (p.33)

A typically provocative point from a fantastically confident author.

Riddle me this, then, readers: are critics essentially the antithesis of opinion? Or is Kadaspala's perspective tantamount to an arrogance as offensive as any suggestion or assertion about the perceived quality of an objet d'art?

Meme, Myself and I | Now With 100% More Mieneke

A little while ago, Mieneke van der Salm of A Fantastical Librarian fame asked if I wouldn't mind answering a couple of questions for her new Blogger Query feature.

I agreed immediately. I had already seen her interview with Stefan of Civilian Reader, and secretly, I was hoping she would ask. As you folks know, I talk about myself and my personal experiences here on The Speculative Scotsman almost every day, but always in support of a point, and the point had never before been me. In Blogger Query, however, the tables are turned.

One of the eternal book reviewer debates is to rate or not to rate? Where do you stand on the issue?

You know, I used to be militant about this. I was of the mind that a number, no matter how many or how few of them you had to choose from, was an awfully simplistic way to talk about anything.

The argument has always been the most important thing to me, and it still is: I’d much rather read about how a book reviewer formed an opinion than look at a number and be done with it. And that’s one of the risks, isn’t it? That you see a 5 or 6 or a 7 – not that there are terribly many of those (though that’s a whole other discussion) – and think... well why bother?

Ratings used to really rub me the wrong way, but I guess I’m getting mellow in my old age, because I’ve learned to live with them. As a sort of shorthand, sure... though I’m still of the opinion that book reviews shouldn’t be written in shorthand.

Negative reviews, yay or nay? And why?

Oh, yay. Absolutely! There aren’t very many things I find more fascinating than a negative perspective – so long as it’s reasoned and reasonably well written – on some new hotness that everyone seems to adore.

In fact the very idea that anyone would say nay to the notion of negative reviews – excepting authors, given their intimate involvement – the very idea offends me no end. What could possibly be the problem with someone having an opinion that isn’t identical to every other opinion? That’s the sort of thing the world needs more of, not less.

So say you want to know about the role of speculative fiction in modern English education, or the relationship between blogs and readers and writers. Say you're interested in hearing how The Speculative Scotsman came about, or what I want from the future. Where before you would have had to bribe me with bookish delights to secure such insights - I kid of course - now all anyone need do is pop on over to A Fantastical Librarian, and read the most recent installment of Blogger Query.

Which, to be perfectly frank, you should be doing on a daily basis anyway.

Last but not least, do keep your eyes peeled, peeps, because I'll be following up on a couple of the subjects Mieneke made me think about here on the site shortly, including firstly - and foremostly - the fall of blogging.