Skip navigation

book review monday 3/1/10

1000 I just finished reading The Year 1000: What Life Was Like at the Turn of the First Millennium, by Robert Lacey and Danny Danziger. Don’t let the title scare you, because I have seldom read a more delightfully informative little book. I don’t know how they crammed so much information into just 200 pages (reminds me of Mark Kurlansky’s Cod in that respect, and this one doesn’t have recipes). The authors take something called the Julius Work Calendar, a medieval reminder of work and faith with wonderful illustrations, and use it to describe daily life in Anglo-Saxon England.

Did you know July was called “the hunger gap” back then, because July was right where the stores of last year’s harvest ran out, but before the new crop was ready to reap? Did you know that if you fondled a woman’s breast, uninvited, it would cost you a fine of five shillings? Did you know there were no surnames in the year 1000? They never left home, you were going to have the same name as your dad and your mom, so you didn’t need them. Did you know Benedictine monks, by oath silent most of their lives, worked out a sign language with over 127 signs? “One gets the impression,” write the authors, “that mealtimes in a Benedictine refectory were rather like a gathering of baseball coaches…” march

The prose throughout this novel is able and vivid, and you can see the twinkle in the writers’ eyes, as in excerpts from a First Millennial medical book called Bard’s Leechbook, which conveniently lists maladies starting with the head and working down. Mid-body we find a cure for male impotence, or “…the Viagra of the year 1000the yellow-flowered herb agrimony. Boiled in milk, agrimony was guaranteed to excite the man who was “insufficiently virile” — and if boiled in Welsh ale, it was described as having exactly the contrary effect. Although later the authors do say, “Several of the Leechbook recipes would have done credit to the witches in Macbeth.”

The authors don’t idealize the Anglo-Saxons in the year 1000, but they respect them and their resilience and capability, and they have a knack for making the narrative sound like it’s all happening next door and all we have to do is stick our heads out the window to be eye witnesses. “Here is the earliest surviving example of an Englishman laying out life in a daily routine, juggling time, the schedule of the earth, and the life of the spirit,” the authors write. “These are people like us.”

About the easiest way into medieval studies I’ve ever stumbled across.

week links 2/28/10

[Interesting links from my Facebook page the past two weeks. With the publication of A Night Too Dark, the seventeenth Kate Shugak novel, this time it's all about meee-eeeeeee...]

On February 16th, I updated my Facebook status with, “Happy Kate Shugak Day in Palmer, Alaska! Go ahead, blow off work and take your dog detecting.
JoAnne said, “Oooh, fun! I’ll take my standard poodle. She mostly detects squirrels and rabbits that she can’t catch.”
Bobbie said, “I don’t have a dog. Can I still play?”
Jan said, “I’ll tell my boss and take the rest of the day off.”
And Becky said, “You do NOT want to know what my dogs find when detecting.”

That evening I got all duded up in basic black and pearls for the launch party at the Arizona Biltmore in Scottsdale, hosted by the Poisoned Pen Bookstore. Diana Gabaldon and Laurie King joined me, along with a crowd of Danamaniacs, who came from as far away as Boston, Detroit and California. Here’s a picture of them as they were assembling.
photo37
[iPhone photo plus bad photographer equals blurriness. Sorry about that.]

The next night crazy people drove all the way to San Diego from Los Angeles to see me at the Mysterious Galaxy Bookstore. Photo by Patrick, who also gave me chocolate and recommended four new sf novels.
mg

And then on to Powell’s in Portland. Events like this sink or swim on the responsiveness of the people who come. Everyone here was a hundred percent on, great questions, lots of laughs, and an actual frisson of excitement when they heard one of them was going to win a book with a brand new Kate Shugak story in it. No, not A Night Too Dark, another one, click on the link.
powells

The next night was Barnes & Noble in Anchorage, where the Lathrop Dorm Contingent turned out in full. Alas, no photos, I wasn’t on the ball. But my cousin Hank, the commercial fisherman from Cordova, showed up, and bought a copy of the book to prop up a shaky table leg at home. I did get a photo of him.
photo39
Extreme shopping in Anchorage will do that to you.

And then Saturday to Fireside Books in Palmer.
fireside-books
That’s Mayor John Combs giving me the key to the city, after which he exerted mayoral privilege to elbow his way to the head of the line to buy the first copy. There was a line, too, Palmer really turned out.

I have to say I felt a little sheepish when Palmer named A Night Too Dark’s pub day Kate Shugak Day. I don’t live in Palmer. Neither does Kate. But then I remembered, my mom and dad eloped to Palmer to be married there by the territorial commissioner. Who knows, I might have been, er, started there.

And then last Wednedsay, I updated my status thusly:

My publisher Andy Martin sez: Kate hits the NYTimes bestseller list again, ANightTooDark #29! Thanks, guys!

Everybody liked that, a lot. Me, too. What I said.

random friday 2/26/10

Here’s my introduction to Powers of Detection, an anthology of short stories I edited about murder in a fantasy setting. It was published by Ace in 2004, and it was a whole lot of fun.


powers-of-detection This anthology is all Laura Anne Gilman’s fault.

A while back Laura Anne forwarded me an email from author Rosemary Edghill, who was putting together a murder-in-a-fantasy-setting anthology. The email came with a message from Laura Anne, which read, “You should do this.”

That’s Laura Anne, always big with the subtle.

I’d never written fantasy. I don’t even read that much of it, because after Middle Earth what is there? I like my speculative fiction hard, nuts-and-bolts, what happens next next door. I want to go back to the moon and on to the asteroid belt and Mars and the moons of Jupiter and from there to Beta Centauri. Sword and sorcery is a little too woo-woo for literal-minded me.

But I confess, I’m afraid of Laura Anne, so I doodled around a bit, so I could say “See? I tried!” and she wouldn’t hurt me.

And then these two characters showed up between the doodles. Both women. One wore a sword and the other carried a staff. They had magical powers, some of which appeared at puberty, some of which were acquired. More doodling and they rode into town, one of them even on a white horse. A young woman was strangled and by various magical means my duo discovered and brought the murderer to justice.

By the time I stopped doodling I had forty-two pages, and to add insult to injury it was a sword-and-sorcery tale. It was also twenty pages too long for the anthology. Rosemary asked me to cut it to fit. I refused. I guess I thought my prose was too deathless to be tampered with. Yeah, right.

So after all that, my story didn’t even make the anthology.

Fume.

So, I thought, I’ll put together my own magic-and-mayhem anthology. (Can we spell “hubris”?)

I decided to ask for murder in a fantasy or science fiction setting, to broaden the appeal to both writers and readers. I went downstairs and looked at who was on my bookshelves. Hmm. Here we have Sharon Shinn. Writes the sf Angels-on-Samaria series. Also wrote that most elegiac of fantasy novels, The Shape-changer’s Wife. Over here is Charlaine Harris, who writes the Sookie Stackhouse novels, the best vampire series in the bloodsucking genre. And here is Anne Perry, who wrote me a short story for The Mysterious North. Could I go to that well a second time? (hyoo’bris, n. excessive pride or self-confidence; arrogance.)

I asked them each to contribute a story, and displaying a touching belief in my ability to get this anthology off the ground, they all did. Sharon has written a lovely little magical boarding school murder, not at all a la Harry Potter, and which she said might evolve into something a bit longer one day. Say a novel? Charlaine has written a story set in that same Sookie universe, and if there was an award for first lines her name would be on the short list. Anne takes us into the courtroom for a trial by magic, where the verdict isn’t what one might expect and neither is anything else.

I remembered talking to Donna Andrews about writing speculative fiction, and she was also a contributor to The Mysterious North, so I asked her for a story, too. She sent me a delightful tale of a mage with a cold, an apprentice with a clue, and a villain with neither.

Then there are the writers who live in Alaska and whom I can personally browbeat into writing for me, Michael Armstrong, John Straley, and Mike Doogan. Michael has written a modern take on an old Aleut legend involving seagulls, and there must be some kind of bird thing going on among the menfolk because John wrote a detective story from the first-person viewpoint of a raven. Mike was the only one of my contributors to weigh in on the science fiction side of murder, although I’m not sure it is murder in the end. You decide. Enjoy his character names while you’re at it.

Laura Anne offered a story of her own, based on characters who inhabit a series she just sold to Harlequin Luna, and recommended I solicit stories from Anne Bishop, Simon R. Green and Jay Caselberg. Laura Anne’s story is a come-hither into a world next to but not quite of our own, seen through the eyes of a cat burglar with, yes, special powers. Anne’s story is set in the world of her Blood novels, where a vigilante wearing a jewel of power exacts deserved if harsh justice upon a serial revenge killer. Simon has written a creepy little horror-ish noir story in which Sam Spade would feel quite at home, if Sam Spade was dead. Jay brings back the ancient Egyptian gods to modern-day Cairo, with a last line that will have you all diving under your beds.

I heard Roger Ebert say once that the true test of a good film was how well it sucked you into its world. Same goes for good writing. In this anthology you can smell the coffee on the streets of Cairo, walk on the ceiling with starspawn, and negotiate with extreme care the social intricacies of the world of the Blood. You can run from the raucous call of an Alaskan seagull, and you’d better. You can belly up to Sookie’s bar and order your blood at an appealing 98.6F. You can meet a gargoyle in a Savile row suit, go mano a mano with piskies, and sneeze striped bats. You can sweat out the verdict at a trial by magic, conjure a reflecting spell at the Norwitch Academy of Magic and Sorcery, and, I hope, hear the song of the Sword in Daean.

Enjoy your visit to these different worlds, but watch your back.

It’s not safe in here.