Tag: Romance

  • The Arrangement

    The Arrangement

    My friend Kacey Ezell has a great new space opera series out, called the Ashes of Entecea* and I’m thrilled to be part of Remnants of Empire*, a new anthology set in that universe. Remnants of Empire launches on 7/26/24.

    Duty, danger, and unexpected romance await in this captivating tale from the Remnants of Empire anthology!

    On the planet Raneaux, two young nobles are ready to part ways. But when a series of devastating attacks rock their world, everything changes. Thrust into a maelstrom of political intrigue and violence, Aidan and Deirdre must confront their true selves.

    He’s a scholar who dreams of quiet libraries. She longs for adventure. Now, they’re fighting for survival and the future of their planet.

    As assassins lurk and conspiracies unfold, Aidan and Deirdre discover strengths they never knew they possessed. But in a world turned upside down, can an unlikely partnership become something more?

    Experience heart-pounding action, complex characters, and the birth of an unexpected love that could change everything.

    Remnants of Empire brings you a collection of interconnected stories set in a richly imagined sci-fi universe. 

    The holographic ad touting off-world adventure holidays caught my eye. I slowed my rapid pace to admire the frozen landscape that morphed into images of divers swimming with amazing deep-sea creatures. Chills skittered across my skin as I aimed my ubiq at the ad so it could scan the relevant information.

    “Add to my wishlist,” I told it.

    “Confirming add to Deidre’s wishlist,” the ubiq replied. “Reminder: you have a lunch appointment with your parents in ten minutes. At your current rate of travel, it will take you seventeen minutes to reach your destination. Do you wish to send a status update?”

    I ignored the ubiq and promptly slipped it into my pocket. With any luck, Aidan would get to the restaurant first, and my fashionably late arrival wouldn’t matter. My parents adored my betrothed—what an archaic term. In their minds he was perfect. It’s why they arranged the marriage contract.

    Don’t get me wrong. Aidan is a wonderful man. Kind, attentive, but not my type. He’s very smart and scholarly, and it didn’t take us long to figure out that we have different goals in life. He wants to make a name for himself as a professor of history. I want to travel. I want to go places and skydive and swim with alien whales and get into zero-g sports. He finds libraries as interesting as I find them boring.

    We’d be horrible for each other. I’d feel held back, and he’d feel—well, I don’t know, abandoned maybe. It’d be one thing if I wanted to go off and adventure on my own for the rest of my life and then come back to hearth and home when I felt like it, but would that be fair to him? Or to me? What if I found someone with whom I could adventure with? What if he found someone to be a homebody with? Would we be stuck in one of those awful marriage-in-name only things?

    I had to step around a holo-ad that popped out of the ground. “Stay informed with our latest updates on anti-monarchist activities—” If you make the mistake of walking through one, they will follow you—well, your ubiq—everywhere.  I didn’t have time to deal with viral ads.

    Thank all that’s good that we’re both lesser nobility—Aidan’s father is, I think, fourth in line for the throne. Being so far from power is why we can say no to a marriage contract. There are no world-ending consequences to either of us wanting to live our own lives. I doubt the ‘casts will even announce it, and if they do it’ll be buried in the day’s feed, and no one will care.

    My consolations and the rehearsed speech that I’d been working on since Aidan and I decided to part ways rolled around in my head as I made my way from the mag-rail station to Le Goût de l’Elysée. It’s the kind of place one goes to for special occasions like engagements and anniversaries, and that is no doubt why my mother chose it. 

    It was also the kind of place frequented by Raneaux’s planetary royals and judiciars and prime ministers and celebrities from all over Entecea. Frankly, I’m allergic to all those people, although I do endure them for my parents’ sake.

    As I crossed the cobblestone pathway, I wished I’d picked something other than spiky heels. There was a dress code though, so I had dressed up, partly out of guilt. I knew going into this just how disappointed our parents were going to be, and for some reason, I had thought that one of my nicer, semi-formal dresses would somehow make up for it. This one was gray, asymmetrical, with a high neck and cap sleeves, a minimalist design with sculpted details, and everything someone like me was supposed to be wearing for something important. Like I said, guilt, or maybe apology. But in dress form.

    The upside to l’Elysée was going to be that no one was going to dare make a scene—even though neither of our mothers were that type. It had been Aidan’s idea. See, I told you he was clever. And so very smart. 

    I sighed. Oh, if that were only enough. If only we had chemistry. I wanted that thrill, those butterflies, that out-of-control-in-love feeling. I wanted it all. Preferably now. And forevermore.

    Doormen in matching uniforms, complete with caps and white gloves, swung the doors open as I approached. It’s such things that make l’Elysée an experience in itself, particularly for the nostalgic.

    The foyer was done in a deconstructed chandelier, where each crystal was suspended by invisible nanofibers. To me, it had always looked like an exploded diagram of a chandelier, instead of an assembled piece. Art, I guess.

    The maître’d looked up from his tablet and shot me a smile. “Ah, Miss Pinet. How good to see you.”

    “Good morning. Are my parents here yet?”

    “Yes, Miss. They were seated about twenty minutes ago. Lady and Lord Stout have also been seated.”

    “And Professor Stout?”

    “I’m afraid not. Would you like us to ping his ubiq with a reminder or request his current location?”

    Sometimes people like the maître’d expected people like me to above carrying ubiqs. The really important people didn’t. Their staffers and aides did.

    “No, thank you. I can do it myself.”

    “Very well. This way, Miss.”

    And so he led me through the main dining room with its fleet of curved banquettes and gazebo-like hooded loveseats. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but I knew that it would soon be filled with glitterati, with the cream of Raneaux society coming together to impress each other over fancy lunches.

    The parents sat cozily on the veranda. It really was a lovely day for it with spring sunshine pouring in through slats strategically placed so that the light wouldn’t bother anyone’s eyes. Floral scents floated on the breeze, just a hint of them so as not to interfere with the more discerning palates that were bound to be l’Elysée’s best customers. It was no surprise that my mother had been making noises about having them cater the wedding. I just hoped that she hadn’t already booked them.

    Mother wore a long dress with a bolero top—lavender, of course. Lady Stout was in a similar outfit, but in mint green. It made me think they’d coordinated and that made my stomach hurt. Father and Lord Stout both wore what I called their uniforms—tunic-like business jackets that hit mid-thigh and pressed trousers, high-collared shirts, and cravats—like they might stop by the House of Lords and argue for this or that or the other. 

    The two empty chairs beckoned like a challenge. I really didn’t want to face them alone.

    Nevertheless, I braced myself.

    Here. I. Go.

    Read the rest in Remnants of Empire.

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

  • The Mummy: Why we need more women like Evie

    The Mummy: Why we need more women like Evie

    I’ve been a huge fan of The Mummy* (starring Brendan Frasier) since it first came out in 1999, i.e. over 20 years ago when I knew little to nothing of storytelling technique or character development or any of the other things that we could point at and say, objectively, this is why this movie/character/plot works so well.

    Since this is such an old movie, I’m not going to bother worrying about spoilers. So if that’s a thing for you, you may want to stop here and come back after you’ve seen it.

    The Prologue

    The movie opens with what is probably one of the best prologues I’ve ever seen. It’s not an info dump or context-less world-building like an article or encyclopedia entry.

    First it gives us a hook.

    Second it introduces us to some very important characters, the Medjai leader Ardeth Bay (played by Oded Fahr who has a great narrator voice) and the villain, Imhotep (played by Arnold Vosloo). But more importantly it establishes Imhotep as a sympathetic character motivated by forbidden love. This is very important for this story where the villain could easily have been a caricature of evil. Instead we have the perfect villain, the flip-side of the coin for our hero, Rick O’Connell (played by Brendan Fraser). Imhotep is Rick if he were evil and he is perfect because he is motivated by exactly the same things as Rick himself–love. Since Rick doesn’t start out in love, Imhotep’s love story provides a deep emotional resonance right up front in a movie that is far more a funny action adventure than a straight-up romance.

    Evie, our heroine

    Enter Evie (Rachel Weisz), who is immediately portrayed as a strong FEMALE CHARACTER rather than a STRONG FEMALE character (read as a Mary-Sue caricature of woman, a man-with-boobs, a vomit-inducing example of toxicity that embodies arrogance by being the strongest, fastest, smartest, most kick-ass person of every room she walks into). Unlike Star Wars’* Rae and Marvel’s* Captain Marvel, Evie is the strong character (who just happens to be a woman) that we need and want. 

    If you're one of those who thinks that a woman is the physical equal of a man, or that women of the past should conform to modern delusions about women's physical prowess, then you may want to stop reading here.

    Evie is the brains of the operation as well as a damsel in distress, the driving force as well as the stakes character. She fulfills all these roles so well precisely because she is NOT the strongest, nor fastest, nor smartest, nor most kick-ass person in any room (much less all of them).

    Solid roots in the reality of her world

    She is a librarian with obvious faults. She is clumsy but doesn’t immediately shed that clumsiness when a combat scene requires it. She is smart, but she doesn’t have to walk into every situation an announce it, via “Hey, everyone, I have a chip on my shoulder about being a woman in a man’s world.” Instead, like Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice*, she works within the parameters of her world without having the world broken in order to make her look good.

    She is also not a character who revels in ball-busting and the writers didn’t have to weaken the male characters in order to make her look good. Each character–whether Rick or her brother Jonathan–had their own skillset and she recognized this and didn’t strut in to show them that all along she was better at everything. She was never afraid to admit she needed help or ask for it.

    Why this movie wouldn’t be made today

    I honestly don’t know if this wonderful, well-written, well-acted, fun, interesting, and romantic movie could have been filmed today. (Really, guys, we don’t know anyone’s sexual orientation or preferred pronouns.)

    While Evie is stuck in the library because she doesn’t have field experience, she is determined to obtain that field experience. She doesn’t blame it on “The Patriarchy”(TM) or whine about it. Not once. Shocker!

    [Disclaimer: I am not and have never been a feminist studies person. I am using the term “patriarchy” and “matriarchy” as a layman to mean power held by men and power held by women respectively.]

    Enemies to lovers

    Without Jonathan, her con-man brother, the opportunity to get field experience would not have existed, but it is her own drive that turns the opportunity into action. Despite Rick lunging at her through the prison bars and kissing her (without her consent, I might add) she is determined to save him, and does. Even though it means putting up with the lecherous prison warden as a partner.

    This sets up the enemies-to-lovers between her and Rick. While not a true enemy, that trope still fits. They start out as adversaries.

    On the boat, we learn that Rick is going back to Hamunaptra because of her. He swore he’d never go back but she saved his neck. In other words, we’d have had no story without Evie’s decision to save him.

    The fight on the boat

    When she is attacked, she defeats the Medjai because he’s distracted by Rick (who came to her rescue). She takes advantage by poking the Medjai in the eye with a candlestick, not by taking over the fight or fighting alongside Rick. The writers did not break the world in order to make her into something she couldn’t possibly be (clumsy librarian, remember?)

    What oppression does look like

    The writers show us what an actual oppressive patriarchy looks like via the village where they stop to buy camels. Rick and Jonathan joke about trading Evie for the camels. But they don’t because English/American culture isn’t Egyptian culture. And it hasn’t become one since the 1920s either. Take it from someone who spent enough time overseas to know the difference.

    At Hamunaptra, patriarchal prejudice is shown again, via the egyptologist, Dr. Chamberlain (played by Jonathan Hyde) who was hired by the American rivals (what I’m going to call the B-team). He’s the one who goes, “They are led by a woman. What does a woman know?” Notice that the Americans are not the ones saying it. Or even agreeing with him.

    Soft power is still power

    Even when the A-team and the B-team are having their little pissing contest in the tomb, it is Evie who intervenes to break it up. She suggests they dig elsewhere because she figures out it’s the wrong place. No one maligns her for making them back off. And if you don’t think that makes Evie powerful, you’re wrong. Not all power comes from intimidation, from Hulk!Smash! or from “I am woman, hear me roar” speeches.

    Logic and reason

    We get foreshadowing and necessary background information via Evie talking about mummification and interpreting things for Rick and Jonathan. It is clear she is the driving factor, the voice of logic and reason arguing against superstition and greed.

    Proud to be a librarian

    When they are attacked by the present-day Medjai, Evie is not involved in the melee. She falls and passes out running away from a man on horseback. Again, it is reasonable that she is not able to outrun a horse or engage in close quarters combat all of a sudden. Later, a bit drunk, she confesses her lack of combat skills and her pride in being a librarian. This time she is the one who asks for a kiss but unfortunately passes out before she can get it.

    Opening the sarcophagus

    She is the one that figures out the key and how to use it to open the sarcophagus. When they open it and find the moist mummy inside, no one blames Evie and she doesn’t scold or blame them either. It’s like they are adults and the movie is about finding treasure and defeating evil instead of modern political correctness and social engineering messaging.

    Smart jabs

    Evie does tells the B-team egyptologist how to open the book. That’s a bit of a jab at the man and he deserves it. She then “borrows” the book while he’s asleep. Smart again. She has the key. She knows what to do.

    Her faults

    And then we are shown that Evie doesn’t know it all. It was refreshing. Her reading from the book wakes up Imhotep. It also sets her up as a driving force again. One that releases the seven plagues. So she is not all-good, all-knowing, all-feeling, infallible woman. She has a fatal flaw: she trusts in logic and intellect more than she should. One might have expected a woman of that time to be more into mysticism than logic and intellect, but it is not outside the realm of possibility given her upbringing. This makes her believable and sympathetic.

    Convenience

    She does just happen to push up against the “right” stone to end up in the tunnel with Imhotep and Henderson, the unfortunate man with the glasses. Once there, she asks him for help. She doesn’t attack Imhotep. She is afraid, but she does stand her ground as best she can until Rick and the others do come to her rescue. Again.

    Evie wandering into that tunnel is what allows the Medjai to rescue Henderson and keeps Imhotep from finishing him off. It is another driving point of the plot.

    Calling the shots

    Evie actively thwarts Rick’s attempts to pack and leave. That’s a bit of a plot hole. She was lamenting the loss of her books and clothes when the boat sank. But her argument with Rick reveals how hurt she is by being regarded as merely a contract. So she uses her budding relationship with him to advantage. But he’ll have none of it. He is afraid for her. One might argue that there is a patriarchal aspect to Rick calling the shots. But if you do you must grant everything done at Evie’s direction as matriarchal.

    When water turns into blood, who does Rick seek out? Evie of course. Because when he is out of his element, he does defer to her. Does this mean that now we’ve switched to a matriarchal calling of the shots?

    It is Evie who takes them to the museum director. The museum director and Ardeth, the Medjai leader, argue with her as an equal. They don’t dismiss her. A little hard to believe perhaps, given the culture of 1920s Egypt, but at least on the museum director’s part, he has worked with her and knows that she is capable. Earned respect on that, and the same can be argued for Ardeth as well. He’s seen what she can do too.

    Evil, evil patriarchy

    It is Evie who says that they must stop Imhotep from regenerating. The guys agree and then lock her in her room. Yes, they did it for her own good. They knew that she had caught Imhotep’s interest, and not in a good way. If you want, you can blame it on patriarchy, evil, evil, patriarchy that tries to keep you from falling prey to a great ancient evil.

    And Imhotep is a threat. He gets into her room despite everything. He is delusional, thinking she is his lost love, Anck Su Namun. Once again, Rick (and a cat) save her. Lucky for her that Rick is not a feminist prince that would have let her rot–or worse in this case.

    Saving the guys

    It is Evie who figures out where the Book of Life is. They need it to defeat Imhotep. In response, Imhotep ups the game, bringing an army of zombies to her door. They run, but are stopped. Faced with a choice–going with Imhotep to be reincarnated as Anck Su Namun or having her friends killed–she makes the decision to go with Imhotep. It will buy Rick and the others time. And she does expect Rick to rescue her. Again. She tells him so to his face, because she is, first and foremost, a survivor. So this is matriarchal oppression, right? I mean look at all the agency she is denying them. Wouldn’t it be better if they just went down fighting? Who is she to know what’s best for them? Shouldn’t she be getting back at them for locking her in that room?

    Feminine Wiles

    In order to distract Imhotep (again) and save her friends (again) she kisses him. Evie uses physical attraction to her advantage, right up to kissing a man she’s disgusted by in order to distract him and save her friends. She didn’t do it by kicking him in the balls. That would have been a TSTL (too stupid to live) moment that would have served nothing except to make Rae or Ms. Marvel look good at everyone else’s expense. Instead of using physical prowess, she used intellect and (dare I say it?) feminine wiles. Something only a truly strong woman would do, because it’s a personal sacrifice for her. It involves an intimacy. It’s a parody of a kiss, of attraction, and she lowers herself to do it. She knows it’s what Imhotep wants and she gives it to him to take away his power.

    Who’s saving whom again?

    Tied down on the altar next to Anck Su Namun’s mummy, Evie struggles, but isn’t threatening to do things that she can’t possibly do. It’s like she’s waiting to be rescued again. I know that’s anathema to movie-makers today, but it is perfectly done because it’s the only thing she can do at this point (without breaking the world by suddenly empowering her somehow). It makes sense that she was overpowered and had no choice.

    Just before she is to be killed, Jonathan and Rick show up. Jonathan uses distraction to draw Imhotep away and this allows Rick to do his thing–hacking at things. Rick then frees her from the altar. But it is Evie’s intellect that saves everyone. It is her knowledge that allows them how to figure out how to get control of the mummified soldiers and direct them to destroy Imhotep and Anck Su Namun.

    Woman vs woman

    Evie directly engages physically only with Anck Su Namun’s mummy, i.e a woman of equal size (here the mummies are just as strong as if they were living apparently). This keeps with nature and human biology. Unlike female “heroes” who practice waif-fu, taking on men much bigger and stronger than they are, ignoring the physics of mass altogether as if estrogen were some magical substance.

    Victory

    The kiss at the end is preceded by Rick saying that he’s not going home empty handed–he has the greatest treasure, Evie herself. What a male chauvinist pig, right? How dare he? (yes that was sarcasm, Karen).

    Conclusion

    Again and again, Evie solves (and causes) problems via her intellect, not her fists. Evie is a product of her world and she does whatever she can not just within those limits, but the limits of biology. She is not genetically engineering, or a magical creation, or a magician who can call up powers. She is human.

    The sequels weren’t as good precisely because they took her character and broke her in order to make her more of a man-with-boobs who prefers using physical violence to solve her problems and suddenly “remembers” being trained to fight against Pharaoh’s mistress. Lame, lame, lame. And this is why we don’t like the sequel, The Mummy Returns* and will pretend that it doesn’t exist.

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella
  • Reviewing A Civil Campaign (Vorkosigan Saga #12)

    Reviewing A Civil Campaign (Vorkosigan Saga #12)

    I found myself opening A Civil Campaign by Lois McMaster Bujold*, Book #12 of her Vorkosigan Saga*, for a variety of reasons. For one, it’s my second favorite book in the series (Barrayar* being the favorite) and I was also looking at it in terms of material for a class I’m developing.

    For whatever reason I also honed in on the subtitle, A Comedy of Biology and Manners, and it struck me–Ha! A Regency in space! They do exist. Another reason I revisit certain books in this series is that Bujold is probably the only other space opera (not just sci-fi romance) writer who writes at close narrative distance. It’s why–for the longest time–Barrayar and Civil Campaign* were my comps for Ravages of Honor, with Barrayar* being the closer comp because of the action sequences.

    The other reason I wanted to re-read it is because it’s the part in the series where the protagonist has progressed to the next stage of life. One of the things about series, particularly long-running series (Dresden*, Honor Harrington*, Anita Blake*) is that you can’t afford to progress the character for risk of killing your series. I needed to read something where the protagonist doesn’t just start down the same path again for yet another journey to slay the monster-of-the-week.

    It’s notable that next to Babylon 5*, Vorkosigan Saga* is the only other series I can think of where the main character is progressed at something other than a glacial pace. And like B5, there are not just multiple protagonists (Sinclair and Sheridan) across the series and the deuteragonists (Ivanova, Delenn, Garabaldi, et al) have not just side stories but their own arcs and character progressions.

    My reviews contain spoilers. Continue at your own risk.

    A great beginning

    A Civil Campaign* returns us to Barrayar with an older (mid-thirties) Miles Vorkosigan coming home as an Imperial Auditor. This is his terminal promotion. He no longer gets to galavant around the galaxy, and this is a good thing. It opens with Miles deciding that he is going to court Ekaterin in secret–not as in a secret from others; as in a secret from her. Hence the comedy of biology and manners.

    In the background we have his cousin the emperor’s upcoming nuptials and Bujold expands on this theme of love and marriage by also introducing sub-plots about Mark’s –Miles’s clone brother’s–romantic endeavors. So we know right away that this will be about matchmaking and courting and not about spies and ships chasing each other and firing on each other and space-battle strategy, and how fast missiles will cross these huge distances (the answer to which is: not at movie-speeds, but at ponderously boring speeds which give the target plenty of time to change their course). In other words, it’s going to be about human drives, not hyperdrives.

    Bujold also expands on the “galactic” politics of her world. It’s not really galactic so much as multi-solar-system; IOW, it’s like saying that the regional politics of Texas are global and ignoring what global means. And to be frank, this is one of the things I like about it. I don’t buy into the magic of even something like jump ships being adequate for true galactic anything. It’s why I shake my head at stories that just assume that yes, galactic–and even inter-galactic–travel is just a level up. In many ways this series has harder science than some space-battle/hyperdrive/space-marines type hard sci-fi.

    The world-building is fantastic. It’s one of the things that really keep me in the books even when I’m annoyed with Miles–which I often am. I too have progressed in my own life from someone who can identify with Miles to someone who identifies with everyone who has to put up with Miles. And because there are so many viewpoint characters in this who do have to put up with Miles, it works.

    As far as characterization goes, Miles was never a Gary-Stu, despite being the protagonist of a space opera. Bujold built him from the start as physically less capable and while I was very upset with this when I first picked up The Warrior’s Apprentice*, he did grow on me and now as a writer, I understand why she did it. I did keep hoping that with “galactic” medicine he would eventually get a new body, perhaps a clone-without-a-brain, a la Sixth Day*, but that didn’t happen.

    The Lord Dono / Lady Donna storyline

    I loved the Lady Donna / Lord Dono subplot from the start, not just because we saw it through Ivan’s eyes and he is such a shallow person but because of the “science” behind it. Turning (not transitioning) from a woman into a man is the kind of thing you can get done on Beta Colony, and Lady Donna did this in order to inherit the Countship from her brother. That means removing and discarding her lady parts as well as “cloning” the man parts, putting them on, and making changes at the cellular level so that her muscles and bones are that of a man. This particular sub-plot is a great blend of science fiction and social sci-fi.

    Be warned that if you are looking for treatises and procedurals on the “science” of completely and irreversibly changing morphology from female to male, you will not find it here. Like me, Bujold is filing for copyrights, not patents and knows better than to bog down a great story with pseudo-sciencey info-dumps.

    The ghemlord bastard storyline

    We also deal with the politics of lineage via the Vorbretten storyline. What happens when you find out that your grandmother was having sex with a ghemlord (one of the Cetagandan invaders who waged war on Barrayar)? Whether she did it to survive, to ensure her family’s survival, or because she liked him, doesn’t matter. It was war. But it does come to bite you in the ass when you bring “galactic” technology into the picture. How does it change the person in question? None at all, as it turns out, except in the minds of some of his peers. Are we who we are or are we who our progenitors were? Well, it turns out that the sins of the father are still very much a thing to punish people for. Social sci-fi anyone? It’s why I love it.

    The love interest

    One of the things I really appreciated in this are the things that made Miles attractive to Ekaterin. Unlike a lot of sci-fi romances (which this is not strictly speaking in terms of what that sub-genre has become; think of the “men who’ve lost their shirts” book covers who instead of kilts have blue/green/purple skin/scales/horns instead; also consider that a similar cover, one of a headless woman that emphasized only her physique would be verbotten) we have a physically damaged man whose personality must be the thing that makes him attractive.

    Rarely do we see a romance between a widow and a cripple and that is what this is. (Bujold must not have gotten the memo about writing to market and I’m so glad she didn’t). While I have had to read something in what is not known as the non-typically-abled sub-genre, the characters were nowhere near as relatable and the story nowhere near as good. In fact, it was instantly forgettable, despite being a leader in that sub-genre, and that is a good thing.

    Ekaterin is a mature woman (despite being young) who is not looking for some young or even middle-aged stud. Male beauty is a strange and many-splendored thing that allows for real men to be attractive to women for different, and sometimes, very practical and realistic reasons like stability, personality, and emotional compatability. One can certainly see why a young widow who was emotionally and psychologically abused by her husband would have absolutely no interest in repeating the experience and would find trust an attractive quality. Which is exactly why Bujold pivots the story by having Miles abuse that trust, lose it, and then have to win it back. This is also why Miles’s life has to stabilize and he has to get that final character growth spurt that will terminally progress him as well.

    The mid-point

    The turning point (the middle) of the story happens when Ekaterin discovers how and why Miles has been manipulating her and results in that all-important loss of trust that he now must get back. We are half-way through and have not had a single moment of Hulk!Smash! but all the action in the story has been there to up the stakes and move the characters forward, so be warned, if you are expecting a bunch of “action” as in gunfights of space battles or anything like that, this is probably not the story for you.

    The butter bug storyline

    Like the ghemlord bastard story line and the Lady Donna storyline, the butter bug storyline adds an element of science fiction, a humorous one, kicking this story out of the pure Romance genre and into a romantic space opera. The addition of the sub-plots gives this story too much plot for what one might call a Romance. So, if you are looking for a pure Romance, or even a sci-fi Romance where the future technology is merely window dressing, you will be disappointed. The multiple viewpoints also kick this story out of the Romance definition.

    Steam level

    There is no on-screen sex in this story. It is very much G-rated.

    Burn level.

    Definitely slow burn.

    Tropes

    I was going to say that this has the “beauty and the beast” trope, but it really doesn’t. Nor does it have enemies-to-lovers or second-chance. Since Miles and Ekaterin were not in love before, it can’t be a second-chance romance. And since Miles doesn’t change from beast to hero, I can’t really apply beauty and the beast either. It skirts these tropes, but doesn’t embrace them. It’s not a fish-out-of-water either (for the Lady Donna storyline) because she is not a stranger to the Vor culture, having been born in it, even though for her, experiencing it as Lord Dono does have a bit of that feel to it.

    Recommendations

    I highly recommend A Civil Campaign*, either as a standalone or as part of this series. There is enough background information to allow you to read it as a standalone. In fact, a series reader, especially one who reads this back-to-back may be justified in complaining that there is too much recap. To them, I must note, that not everyone got to read them back-to-back. Some of us had to wait for years for the books. So judging it for not being written as if the series was complete and unlikely to be picked up mid-stream, is wrong.

    For those of you wanting the romance, I will re-iterate the two titles that cater to that: Barrayar* and Civil Campaign*.

    For those of you wanting the space opera, the rest of the series is more focused on Miles’s adventures than on anything that would be classified as “Romance.” So while there is an underlying romantic pursuit on Miles’s part of several women throughout the series, the other books focus on political intrigue, mystery-solving, adventure, and so forth. At no time is this a Weberesque space battle type of space opera. If you’re looking for that or space marines, look elsewhere.

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella
  • John Carter of Mars: A Much Needed Character Evolution

    John Carter of Mars: A Much Needed Character Evolution

    The John Carter (2012) * movie with Taylor Kitsch somehow almost missed me. Retrospectively we know that Disney killed the box office success of this movie and the reasons for that have been documented elsewhere and will not be rehashed here. (If you’re curious, here’s a video I found very informative.)

    Given my history with Edgar Rice Burroughs‘* works, I can’t help but wonder if this excellent film (yes, I said it) would have been something I would have bothered with when it was released. They say that you never get a second chance to make a first impression, but I did nevertheless give this character a second chance.

    Some background:

    First, so you understand where I am coming from, I was never a 13-year-old boy or a young man for that matter. I don’t think I was ever the intended audience for this and not just because ERB published this in 1917 and the writing is so dated that the story is painful to read. And I know that it inspired a lot of people. That does not change that it is dated, and I’m not talking about the prose.

    But I loved the movie and a friend’s post on Facebook got me thinking about why the movie spoke to me in a way that ERB’s writing never could. I will admit that while Taylor Kitsch is easy on the eyes I do in fact consistently reject eye-candy-based movies if they are poorly done. And while the production design and special effects were excellent, again, plenty of other movies with the same window dressing fail to make my list.

    “Oh, Gary-Stu, you saved me!”

    So, I subjected myself, once more to ERB’s writing, confirming, once again, that it was his writing that did not appeal. Now, when we speak of writing, we are talking about two things. One is prose. The other is everything but the prose, i.e. the characterization, pacing, description, and so on. (And please don’t rail at me about giving the book another chance; I’m a writer with limited time and since what I’m reading can have a detrimental effect on my own writing, that is not a bullet I’m willing to take for you).

    It is the characters in the book that are lacking. This review of ERB’s version is right on:

    Amazon review

    ERB’s John Carter is a Gary-Stu, an infallible character, a piece of animated cardboard lacking in depth. And I also realize that for some people, that is the appeal. Why else would Hollywood and Disney be tripping all over themselves for the last decade or more to bring us the female version of Gary-Stu, the Mary-Sue character? (If you’re one of those, you may want to stop reading here because I’m about to piss you off.)

    Here is the one time that Disney took something and made it better. And then they squandered it.

    Why the movie is so much better:


    So, what made it better? What did Disney do right? Well, for one they made the Powell character an adversary (in the book he was Carter’s mining partner). By doing so, the movie reset the tone to one of high stakes and character complexity. As I said, I couldn’t make myself re-read all of ERB’s story, but I did re-read this part and it struck me as an excellent move in revamping the characters.

    The other thing they did was make John Carter a real person, not someone who struts around thinking about how (or showing off how) utterly perfect he is. And I admit a prejudice against such characters, whether ERB’s or not.

    To wit… One of the things that absolutely makes me put a book down is the Retief character (Laumer’s BOLO series.) Laumer’s character is fresher in mind than John Carter (I had to re-read him more recently) but I remember thinking of John Carter when I read Laumer and just groaning when Retief takes out an alien using some clever method that only he knew but didn’t reveal until it was time to congratulate himself for being oh-so-clever.


    Let me be a bit more explicit here with an example:


    Gary-Stu, our intrepid hero finds himself at the bottom of a pit. The author actually has Gary-Stu going “Oh no! However will I get out?” Gary-Stu may or may not have more thoughts about how incredibly high the walls are, or how dangerous it is for him to remain here. Then the author leaves us hanging.

    So off we go, waiting a whole week for the next installment, or the next chapter, or like today, it’s just a matter of turning the page. And when we do, Gary-Stu flexes his muscles and just leaps out of that pit like he was planning on doing all along, because he knew he could do it (he is Gary-Stu after all) so him wondering “Oh no! However will I get out?” wasn’t a genuine thought at all, but the author jerking off on the page.

    And if you just went, “Ewww….” then you know exactly how I feel every time I read one of these contrived gotchas, and then how I feel when I have to read the vomit-inducing follow-up that includes some self-congratulatory drivel started by some other character. “Oh, Gary-Stu, you’re my hero. Thank you for saving us.” or better yet, “Oh, Gary-Stu, you’re my hero. I’m all yours. Take me. Take me here, take me now.”

    It’s always about characters:

    By making John Carter a widower who had lost his wife and child, who had lost his soul, whose outlook of life and humanity was grim, Disney took ERB’s Gary-Stu and made him into a relatable, likable character who could be progressed. At the end of the movie he is a different person and it was that arc that made the movie John Carter someone I liked and want more of. The book John Carter would have been just as shallow, no matter the special effects or casting because he would still be a Gary-Stu, ready to go on his next adventure where he remained the same shallow Gary-Stu he was at the start.

    I’m not going to talk too much about the rewriting of Dejah Thoris since I couldn’t read far enough into ERB’s text to do a fair comparison. I suspect that movie Dejah is very much unlike book Dejah, a female character written for 13-yo boys reading in 1917. I didn’t find the movie character to be a Mary-Sue. In fact, I liked her very much. She had both strengths and weaknesses, had a great character arc, and she and John working together to win is very refreshing in a world where many franchises take the male title character, gut and castrate him, and then have the female character be the real “hero.”

    If you’re willing to suspend disbelief and accept that this is not the Mars we know today and was never meant to be the Mars of today, but a fantasy (rather than sci-fi) Mars, this movie is well worth your time. It has action, adventure, and romance, albeit a Disney-level romance. I loved the Tars Tarkas character (“Your spirit annoys me”), the Sola and Kantos Kan characters–all of it. The only thing I did not love about this movie is the fact that they didn’t make a sequel and that there is no Woola plushie.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

  • Episode 1 of Netflix’s Shadow and Bone

    Episode 1 of Netflix’s Shadow and Bone

    Shadow and Bone* caught my attention on Netflix. Neither a fan of YA nor a big Fantasy reader, this was quite a feat and in no small part it was due to the skill with which the story is written (both by Leigh Bardugo in the book and by the show-runners at Neflix).

    My friend and co-author Justin Watson* and I decided to discuss the series as part of his Lore and Valor podcast.

    Be sure to like and subscribe if you want to be notified of future installments.

    I had a lot of fun discussing this and am really looking forward to doing episode two. You’ll notice that Justin and I approach storytelling from different perspectives and that’s one of the things that makes exchanges like this interesting. As a writer I’m always interested on how others “digest” a particular story.

    Another reason I enjoy these is that it’s the closest we get to doing panels when we are not at cons. And we do this kind of thing whenever we get together, whether we’re holed up in a hotel room at a con or doing a video chat just because.

    I especially enjoy Justin’s commentary because it’s not just vague generalizations like “I liked it” or “This was so neat.” We can have an intelligent discussion about what we enjoyed, what we found lacking, and what we learned.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

  • Outlander’s Season 6 Review

    Outlander’s Season 6 Review

    As a huge fan of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander*, I (like everyone else) have been looking forward to the end of Droughtlander with the streaming of Season 6.

    How big of a fan am I? I often refer to my Ravages of Honor series as an “Outlander in space.” We share a heroine who is pulled through time, the fish-out-of-water trope, as well as the focus on relationships. We are not pure Romance because while there is a deep, driving, and defining love story, the story itself does not end with the couple getting together and going on to their HEA (happily ever after). The story continues past that and their love story (rather than Romance) continues as they get older, have children, and go on other adventures.

    Limited expectations:

    I know that the pandemic gave us Droughtlander and I knew that we were going to get a shorter season, only eight episodes. But what I did not expect was the cliffhanger ending and the shortened story lines which were just dropped and then summarized with a few trite lines of dialogue.

    With no announcement of when season 7 will come, I felt more than a little cheated by the ending, especially since the storylines were (mostly) well done. There was tension and emotional investment, something that Gabaldon and the show-runners do very well, and they certainly kept me guessing.

    It’s like deja vu all over again:

    I did have deja vu several times, to the point where I went to check the release dates on the off-chance that I was watching the wrong season. At first I thought it might be the disparity between the books and the show. But that wasn’t as much of an issue as what they did: cut off two rather important storylines and then leave us hanging.

    The good things:

    There was a cute little subplot involving the Beardsley twins, and an even more interesting one between Claire and Tom Christie, an old compatriot of Jamie’s. I found Claire and Christie’s developing and reluctant friendship to be very interesting and its platonic nature is much needed as we rarely see such things develop between male and female characters without at least some hint of sexual tension.

    I don’t know how realistic the polyamorous subplot between the Beardsley twins and Lizzie would be given the time period and attitudes, but it was well done and I know that Gabaldon often throws out historical accuracy for the sake of story, a trait that I do admire. It however, felt short or at least not as well-developed as it could be. So maybe the shortened season is to blame for this as well.

    They did a great job with the Malva character. There was something about the look on her face from the moment we met her that said, this person isn’t all that she seems, but only barely. She kept setting off the hairs on the back of my neck and I was wondering, once again, where I had seen her. Well, her name does start with “Mal” and I kept telling myself, “Nope, it can’t be that. Nope, nope, nope.” But it was. Throughout the scenes of her father punishing her, you get this sense that she’s not quite the victim she is being portrayed as. With how the storylines were shortened and abandoned, it’s hard to tell if this was intentional or merely coincidental.

    Conclusion:

    Another well-done aspect is the unwavering faith that Claire and Jaime have in each other. A lot of drama over his alleged infidelity would have ruined their characters and I was really glad to see that the show didn’t go there, no matter how tempting it might have been.

    And if this post has that ending abruptly feel to it, well, yes. Because I honestly have nowhere else to take it. I’m thinking they did the best they could with what they had.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

  • Shadow and Bone–A well-written YA fantasy

    Shadow and Bone–A well-written YA fantasy

    I can see why Leigh Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone* is such a hit. It certainly struck a chord with me and I’m not even the target audience. I’m not a fan of fantasy. And normally I don’t go out and read anything that has been turned into a series because usually it’s not worth my time and I’ve been disappointed more often than I care remember.

    Some comments about Shadow and Bone (they were dismissive of its YA roots and ‘simpliciy’ and some reviews even knocked it for using tropes as if tropes should be avoided in fiction) did however prompt me to at least look at it and once I did I was hooked.

    The number one reason I can’t get into a story or stay in it long enough to finish it has to do with narrative distance–either the story is written at arm’s length (omniscient, third distant, or present tense) or the writer can’t make up his/her mind who’s head and heart they are in and just decides, screw it, I’m going to head-hop and violate viewpoint whenever I please because I don’t care or don’t know any better. Frank Herbert’s Dune* is a good example of something I just can’t read anymore and the head-hopping is why. The writing is not just clunky but the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.

    Fortunately for me, Bardugo’s writing is the polar opposite. It is well-written, well-plotted, and well-crafted. Yes, the plot is simple (even, dare I say, simplistic) but it has to be. It has to be because it’s a single viewpoint novel. And because Bardugo only shows us Alina’s head and heart, the book is different from the series which (I suspect since I haven’t read the other books) takes material from the other books and weaves in multiple storylines.

    So, if you’re expecting a cheap novelization of the series, where some hack has been hired to turn the outside-in script into a thinly veiled outside-in narrative, you’ll be disappointed. Bardugo’s novel has depth and resonance. Bardugo’s novel is about characters. Bardugo’s novel is about relationships and emotions. And yes, some of that definitely comes through in the series, but there are also a few important differences.

    One of the ways I knew that I was in for a treat was in the way Bardugo handled the opening. We don’t start in Alina’s head and heart (she is not yet the viewpoint character) but with a properly written (do you have any idea how exceedingly rare that is?) prologue that is not just time a time-skip, but a hook written from a viewpoint not used again, i.e. the author-narrator’s via third-distant viewpoint.

    The rest of the novel (the main narrative) is from Alina. Now, I do have to pause here and explain something. Most well-written first-person is first-person retrospective narration. The reason to use first person is because we want the character narrating the past from the future. Gabaldon’s Outlander is an example of properly done first person because it is retrospective. Unfortunately, I see more and more non-retrospective narration because writers are constantly being told that if you’re using I/me you’re writing in first. Not true. If the story is unraveling in real story time, it’s not retrospective and it’s actually third-person. And if you’re using the pronouns I/me you’re actually writing third-person with first-person pronouns. Which is fine as long as you don’t screw it up, and Bardugo does not.

    Despite the lack of a retrospective narrator, Alina’s narrative unveils the story in an engaging way that had me reading to the end. She put me in Alina’s head and heart and kept me there. I don’t usually read YA because it’s often too shallow, too poorly-written, too focused on teen angstiness and TSTL (too stupid to live) moments and motivations that I just can’t buy into. That was not the case here.

    The reveal for why Alina didn’t remember the grisha testing was also well done. I admit, I was wondering how Bardugo was going to handle that (first-person retrospective would have been excellent for handling this) and she didn’t disappoint. It wasn’t a gotcha, a stupid writer trick I abhor.

    The book is also different in how it handles the relationship with the Darkling. One Amazon reviewer complained that it was a romance written for 12-yo. Actually, it’s not a romance at all, for any age. As in there is no romance. There is no chemistry. Not between her and the Darkling anyway. The deeper romance is between her and Mal, but I can see how some people would miss that because (a) we don’t get his viewpoint and (b) the kind of devotion that Alina and Mal feel towards each other given their experiences as orphans is not fleshed out until the end where it’s done via dialogue. A multiple viewpoint novel written in third-close could have done this earlier and better and created additional tension, depth, and characterization.

    The series actually gives us more chemisty between Alina and the Darkling than there is the book. Some people have called it an enemies-to-lovers romance, but it’s not. If it could be called anything at all, it’s a May-September romance, for certain values of romance (on the weak side of it). Again, because we don’t get the Darkling’s viewpoint, we can’t know what he feels towards her. He tells us somewhat, but we can’t know what he means and what he does not without being in his head and heart. Knowing these things requires multiple viewpoints done in third-close, something that tends not to lend itself to moviezation (yes, I just made that word up; deal with it).

    The other thing I really liked about this story was that the climax depended on inner strength and sacrifice (not Hulk! Smash!). Another criticism of this story has been that it’s boring. Well, if you’re looking for a mindless, Hulk! Smash! action extravaganza, this is not it. Truly. Who’d be expecting that?

    Like all well-written stories with depth, the story is NOT about the events (the plot) but about the characters and their relationships. As such the climaxes tend to be at least somewhat internal. The Netflix series did an excellent job in balancing this out and presenting it on screen with a bit more oomph than the book. So for the action junkies in the audience, not all struggle is “action” and not all victories involve knocking your opponent out. Some involve self-sacrifice.

    Also well done was the hero/villain duality between Alina and the Darkling. He is the other side of the coin. They are both motivated by the same thing — to make a better world. They just have different visions of it and how to get there. This is quite well done, especially for YA where that type of depth is often missing.

    Another layer of depth that I haven’t seen touted, or even acknowledged, is the fact that Alina needed the very thing that enslaved her. Think about it. Why is that not the very thing that is being used to sell this? Well, I think it would be lost on most people, because the story is again, about self-sacrifice and about making hard choices and living with them. Not exactly the kind of thing that makes for great teasers.

    The only thing I did not like is the epilogue. It was written in present tense and I just skipped it.

    I am going to rewatch the series now and go on to read the second book. I highly recommend Shadow and Bone not only for anyone who wants to read a well-written story, but for any writer who is looking for good examples of how to do it well.

    Bardugo has now made in on my must-read list along with Gabaldon*, Pataki*, and Quinn. *

    (If you want to learn more about viewpoint and why it’s not about pronouns, click here.)

    *As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Conquest (Book 1)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor: Ascension (Book 2)
    • Cover for Ravages of Honor Lineage
    • Cover for Dominion: A Ravages of Honor Novella
    • Cover for Featherlight: A Ravages of Honor Novella
  • Lost City Review–When Romance and Comedy Fail

    Lost City Review–When Romance and Comedy Fail

    If you’ve been dying to get back into watching movies in a theatre, you might want to skip The Lost City* a romantic comedy starring Sandra Bullock (as Loretta Sage) and Channing Tatum (as Alan).

    I had such high hopes for this. It’s Romance, right? It has a great premise–romance novelist and her cover model go on adventures that mimic what she writers. Great names, right? And then, something, I’m not sure quite what, happened.

    Spoilers abound, in 3 … 2… 1

    (more…)

  • Ravages of Honor pronunciation guide

    I’m a logophile. My Spotify playlist is made up of songs in German, Japanese, Korean, Russian, Hungarian, Norwegian, Icelandic, Mongolian, Latin, French, and Italian.

    One of the reasons I love writing science fiction is that it allows me to make up words and use language in a creative way. I love making up words and names, but not all of them are original, even if they sound that way.

    So, if you were wondering about how to pronounce the unique names and terms I’ve created (and what the stories behind them are) you might enjoy the Ravages of Honor pronunciation guide. Each episode is very short (30 seconds to 1 minute long). I will be adding to it, so please remember to subscribe to my channel so that YouTube will notify you of additions.

    Click here for the pronunciation playlist.

    Pronunciation Guide
  • Hard sci-fi made me cry*

    Hard sci-fi made me cry*

    Image Source: IMDB

    Tired of the remakes, the reboots, the “let’s see how much more blood we can squeeze out of this turnip” output of today’s Hollywood? I think you’ll find Passengers* a refreshing change. 

    If like me, you didn’t rush out to see it in the theatre, it might’ve been because of blurbs like this one from IMDB: “A spacecraft traveling to a distant colony planet and transporting thousands of people has a malfunction in its sleep chambers. As a result, two passengers are awakened 90 years early.” 

    Sounds like a snore, doesn’t it? 

    It is rated PG-13, just under two hours long, and tagged as adventure, drama, and romance. What it is, however, is a story about love, redemption, and forgiveness. It’s about making the best of life, even when things don’t go as planned. It’s about the pioneering spirit, about a positive future, about what a man and a woman can achieve together.

    “But wait, you said this is hard sci-fi.”

    Yes, I did. And I stand by it. It’s science fiction because of the setting: a spaceship traveling between the stars. It’s hard sci-fi because it’s an extrapolation of current knowledge (it’s closer to 2001: A Space Odyssey), than to the space-fantasy cum turnip known as Star Wars. 

    But what this movie actually is, is a great example of using science/setting as a trope and a literary device for delivering a character-focused story. The science is not the point of the story, but there is enough verisimilitude that it has a real feel to it (this comes from someone who can get really picky about the scientific details).

    (more…)