All of Us and Everything Review

This week's novel is All of Us and Everything, a quirky family drama by Bridget Asher.

The Rockwell girls were raised by their single mother, who always claimed that their father wasn't around because he was a spy.  All grown up, Esme's husband just left her and her teenage daughter, Atty, for a French dentist, and since he worked at a private boarding school, Esme loses her faculty apartment and Atty loses her spot at school.  Liv just got out of rehab, and decides to find a new husband by browsing the engagement announcements and poaching.  Ru ran away to Vietnam in hopes of sparking an idea for her second book after her first book, based on Liv's failed teenage romance, became a huge success.  They all converge back home to discover that their father really was a spy, to make him pay reparations for his absence and his secret involvement in their lives, and to learn to be sisters again.

Omnipotent third person narration is used in this story, where the point of view shifts from a close third person narration focusing on Liv to one focusing on Esme to one focusing on Ru to one focusing on Esme again, sometimes in the span of a single page.  Now, this is often used sloppily and gives me a sense of confusing vertigo, but here it worked because it emphasized themes and characterization from a fundamental level.  The sisters are all self-involved in a "now let's talk about me" kind of way, and the bouncing perspective underscores that, making it feel like they're interrupting one another to refocus the story back on themselves.  It also shows how little they know and understand one another.  One character will guess at what another is thinking, then the perspective will switch and we'll see that they were completely wrong.  It's even more interesting in that this technique fades out when they speak honestly with each other, the narration becoming a more distant third person.

The characters are all a bit bizarre, which in some cases is the only thing that makes them likable.  But it does make them likable.  And their strangeness and their quirks come from somewhere real, that is to say that given their backgrounds, their eccentricities make sense.

The thing I enjoyed the most was Atty's tweets, which are primarily used as comic relief.  But they also show how Atty's on the outside of a lot of the drama and therefore able to have a running commentary.

Teddy quickly turned to Liv.  "What are you up to these days?"
"I'm trying to perfect my Zen."  She said it so seriously that Ru laughed, thinking she was going for deadpan.
"What's funny about that?" Liv asked Ru.
"That was the laughter of joy," Ru said quickly.
Liv's eyes flicked around the table, as if she dared anyone else to mock her Zen.
No one did.  It was quiet a moment.  Atty Instagrammed her plate of food, and as if that were some kind of prayer, they all began to eat.

***

Next week: The Weight of Feathers, fantasy with rival traveling circus acts, by Anna-Marie McLemore.

Every Heart a Doorway Review

This week's novella is Every Heart a Doorway, post-portal-fantasy by Seanan McGuire.

Children disappear into other realms, sometimes they're gone for years, sometimes they spend years in another world and return just a moment after they left.  Some worlds are fantastical, some horrifying.  And when these children return changed an unable to adapt to the life they once had, they're sent to Eleanor West's Home for Wayward Children, a boarding school that tells the children's parents that they'll help the children overcome their delusion, but where they tell the children that everything they experienced is real.  They just need to learn to move on.

This is a collision between two concepts I really like: the "after the fairy tale" story and "these people need therapy."  These kids come back and of course they're going to have problems.  They've left the world where they felt they belonged behind and now they may never get back.  No one believes them, and they don't relate to their lives or their parents.  So I love that the Home for Wayward Children has group therapy after dinner, with people who believe them and help them work through their loss.

Way to be responsible, Home for Wayward Children!

I also love that the boarding school has standard academic classes (like math) in addition to electives about mapping the different worlds that people have gone to.  And the different worlds are so varied and creative.  We get snip-its of the children's adventures and each one could be its own novella.  (In fact I think McGuire wrote some prequels.) The narrative spends very little time on these classes, because that would be dull, but they are acknowledged, and I appreciate that.

Way to be responsible again, Home for Wayward Children!

It's super short, so you should check it out.

***

Next week: All of Us and Everything, a quirky family drama by Bridget Asher.

My Critique Partner Saves the Day Again

I've been down about the Firebird story lately.  I've been in the part of the creative cycle where everything is awful and pointless.  I've been unenthusiastic about it and even less enthusiastic about working on it. 

So This week I sent my critique partner and best friend for life an e-mail asking for a pep talk, and then asking if she'd read some of what I have and tell me if it was worth salvaging.  Her response was extremely helpful and reignited my excitement for this project.

First, she pointed out what she liked and what was working, which helped me because I could focus on the good aspects.  Then she pointed out some things that weren't working, all of which were easy changes--such easy changes that I was pumped to go and change them.

Then there was the problem she pointed out without knowing she'd pointed it out.  On page five she says, "oh, well, they can just do X to fix this."  X being, of course, the secret climax.  OOPS!  That won't work.  So I figured that she had answered my question of whether this was salvageable. 

Then I got to thinking: this wouldn't work with a secret climax.  X needed to be overt and discussed by everyone, which means conflict would have to come from elsewhere and characters' motivations would have to change.  Like if So-and-so was pushing for this, and What's-his-face wants to do that...Oh wait, that will totally work. 

So!

This requires another rewrite.  My plan at this point is to spend the next two weeks planning out the rewrite in excruciating detail, just figuring out exactly what needs to happen.  Then I'll be able to step back from it, write a first draft of another project in November, then come back to the Firebird story without losing my place.  That's the plan.

Where Futures End Review

This week's novel is Where Futures End, YA sci-fi by Parker Peevyhouse.  This one was recommended to me by the Chicago Public Library in their list "Inspired by Bradbury: Teen Science Fiction."

In a series of interconnected short stories, this novel tells the history of Earth's connection to "the other place," an alternate dimension.  It tells about first contact, how people came to accept that it was real, and the effect it and the people of the other place had on life on Earth.

Although this is sci-fi at heart, with an alternate dimension and aliens, it's presented with the traditional trappings of fantasy.  In the first story, Dylan, the first person to go to the other place, is a child and thinks that he had an adventure in a portal fantasy.  He names it "the other place" and talks about princesses and castles.  He describes his powers of persuasion in terms of The Jabberwocky, his powers are his "vorpal" and they go "snicker-snack."  The rest of the Earth picks up his vocabulary, and talks about the other place as if it's a realm of magic.  The overlap between the two genres, and the edges where they don't quite overlap, where aliens admit that they're more science-fiction-y than they've led people to believe are really cool and an interesting twist on both genres (in that they didn't have to be twisted that much).

Each story has its own themes and ideas that I latched onto.  Dylan uses his powers to impersonate his more popular older brother, and uses the disguise to attend classes at the private school from which he'd been expelled.  Epony questions her public vs. her private persona and relates that back to the aliens, who can change their appearance and what people think of them just as Dylan can.  Reef lives in a time where people swarm to Seattle to try to cross into the other place and people without strong vorpals (like Reef) are left behind, turning the city to a slum.  In response, those left behind create a virtual game world overlayed on top of the city they can see (like Pokemon Go but more).  It turns their slum into a fantasy world with gilded buildings, monsters, and quests.  I would read a full novel about any of these.  They each left me wanting more.

However, even though each story held together on its own, themes were dropped between stories and I'm not sure I buy the drastic social changes that took place between time periods.  It was also a little preachy at times about global warming and social media use, but those were brief.

It was a fun read with a lot to chew on.

***

Next week: Every Heart a Doorway, post-portal fantasy by Seanan McGuire

Moon Rant

People get science things wrong.  It happens.  But sometimes they'll get a fact wrong, and something small explodes in my brain, and I have the need to explain gravity or radiation or government funding or lab safety.  But the big one that gets me every time:

The Moon.

I don't want to be judgmental, but...well, I am.  That's on me.  I'm sorry that I'm judging you folks that are wrong about the Moon, because I know that people should not have ignorance held against them, especially over topics that have no bearing on anyone's life.

But it's there.  Like right there.  All the time.  Has been your whole life. 

The worst perpetrators are picture books and lullabies, which I've read and sung a lot of lately and I'm sure my son is tired of hearing about the Moon.  So I'm going to tell you about the Moon, and when you go to write or illustrate a picture book, you can know how the Moon works.

1. The Moon is not only up at night.

There's this idea that I see constantly that Sun=day and Moon=night.  The Sun being up does make it day, but the Moon part of this is bogus.  The Moon is up all night only during the full moon, the rest of the month it rises later and later, rising at midnight and setting at noon for the waning quarter moon, rising in the morning and setting at night for the new moon, rising at noon and setting at midnight for the waxing quarter moon, then back to the full moon again.

Proof.  The Moon during the day.  Credit: David Jones

People tend to think the Moon is up only at night because A) the Moon is fuller when it's in the part of its cycle that has it up during the night, and therefore it's brighter and easier to see, and B) just like the stars, it's harder to see the Moon during the day because the Sun is so bright.

So when in your story you have a fingernail sliver of Moon rising at midnight, my first thought is WHAT?!  SOMETHING CATASTROPHIC HAS HAPPENED!  The same with characters not being able to see at night because it's the new moon and the new moon doesn't give off any light.  No, they don't have any light at the new moon because the Moon isn't up. Also, if you're going to have a sacrifice under the new moon, that's at noon.

2. The phases of the Moon are caused by its position relative to the Sun and Earth.

Not because the Earth is throwing its shadow across the Moon.  That's called a lunar eclipse and it looks very different.  Related to that, a total lunar eclipse can only happen at the full moon and a solar eclipse can only happen at the new moon.  If your story has a solar eclipse with a crescent moon, there is something HORRIBLY WRONG because in order for that to happen a second sun would have had to appeared.

partial lunar eclipse.  See how the shadow is not as definite as a crescent moon.  ©bigstockphotophoto.com/hotshotsworldwide

The phases of the Moon depend on where the Sun, Earth, and Moon are in space. 

Half of the Moon's surface is always illuminated.  That's the side that is facing the Sun, while the side not facing the Sun will not be lit up.  This is not to be confused with the "dark side of the Moon", which is the side of the Moon that does not face the Earth (The same side of the Moon always faces the Earth.  It's cool), and we therefore can't see it from here, making it mysterious or "dark."  This gets confusing because sometimes the dark side of the Moon is literally dark because it faces away from the Sun, and sometimes the dark side of the Moon is lit or partially lit because it faces or partially faces the Sun.

Note that no matter where the Moon is in its orbit, the side of the Moon facing the Sun is always lit and the side away from the Sun is dim.  This is also true for the Earth, where the dark part is night and the light part is day.

The different Moons drawn here represent four different moments in the Moon's orbit around the Earth.  (The Earth does not have four Moons, and the Moon makes a full orbit of the Earth about once a month.)

This shows how the Moon's position in space makes it look different for a person on the Earth.  See their thought bubbles as they look up at the Moon?  The Moon hasn't changed all that much, but a person's perspective of the Moon will change.

Now, looking at these diagrams, it seems like the Moon ought to go through all its phases every day, so why is it a quarter moon when it rises and still a quarter moon when it sets that night?  That's because these diagrams are a bit misleading: the Moon orbits the Earth about once a month, while the Earth is in the middle there spinning, spinning, spinning away.

One day in the life of the Moon would look more like this:

Note that the Moon rises around noon and sets around midnight.  Also note that that red stick person is going to see a quarter moon from every position where it's possible to see the Moon.

The Brides of Rollrock Island

This week's novel is The Brides of Rollrock Island, selkie fantasy by Margo Lanagan.

This novel is a series of interconnected short stories, each from a different point of view and different point in time.  Together, they cover the history of the rise and fall of the witch Misskaella's power and influence over the island.  Her connection to the seals makes her an outcast and leads her family to mistreat her, so she strikes back by bringing a seal woman (a seal who sheds her skin and becomes a beautiful woman, who stays docile and submissive as long as she can't find her skin) to the island, who enchants everyone.  Soon all the men of the island come to Misskaella for a seal wife and all the women of the island leave for the mainland.  Only seal women, their husbands, sons, and Misskaella remain, making the sons' views of how the world works weirdly skewed.

I really liked how the magical weirdness permeated every aspect of the society on the island.  When all the wives are seal women, all the meals on the island becomes more seal like.  For instance, the wives cook "sea hearts," which are a kind of gross smelling thing in a shell that the boys have to collect.  The boys associate red hair with men and black hair with women, they've never seen girls their own age and (on rare trips to the mainland) have even less understanding of how to talk to them than normal boys.  The affect the seals have on the island also changes over time.  In Misskaella's childhood, people had prejudices against families that had seal blood from long ago.  The wives change from family shame to secret obsession to common place to shame again.  It's quality world building: one change that affects everything in organic, mailable ways.

The short stories get at the situation from every angle: the sons watching their mothers' sadness without understanding, the men who seem reasonable until they're bewitched, the witch and her depressing motives (I cried), the human wives whose husbands abandon them for seal women, the human women from the mainland who think the island is unnatural.  So you get to see it from several angles, most of which are sympathetic.  But the glaring omission is that we don't get to hear from the seal women, who are essentially held captive.  On the one hand, it's kind of neat that we don't get a chapter from their perspective because it maintains the alien qualities of their seal-ness.  Maybe they don't think in ways that would translate to a chapter.  But on the other hand, it feeds into the poor treatment of women at the heart of the book.  The seal women aren't given a voice even in a book about them.  Don't get me wrong, I don't think this sexism on the part of the author, but it's rather the author showing sexism in order to talk about it. 

***

Next week:  Where Futures End, YA sci-fi (or is it fantasy?) by Parker Peevyhouse