Nature’s Magic

Summer is upon us and the weather is warm warm warm. Still, no excuse for not sitting indoors writing! And the writing is flowing, for an array of shorts, and for the novel. Inspiration is a common theme, and I don’t have to look far to be inspired, by nature, by colour, by stories both personal and fictional.

A recent trip to the river Otter gave a glorious fix of wildlife, or at least a tantalising reminder of those special moments of hope. Following Devon Wildlife Trust’s successful reintroduction of beavers into the area, I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, I might see one. Alas, it was not meant to be, but special in any case to see gnawed trees and an impressive dam. Given a chance, these industrious creatures are fighting back against flooding, while bringing a whole host of species back into area – the magic of nature. And so we looked, scouring the riverbank, soaking up the wild atmosphere.

(Click here for more about the river Otter in a previous blogpost – #lovedevon)

Nature is a prominent theme in my series, Blood Gift Chronicles. In Return of the Mantra, I explore the cost of exploitation; in The Warder, it’s the fight to preserve wildlife; and in Book 3, there’s a personal connection with the natural world, so personal we might actually merge. Like its predecessors, Book 3 is bringing a personal arc that is out of this world, transformational, and colourful.

Colour…

At home, flowers are starting to bloom…

The bikes are out…

There’s art in the cathedral on the theme of nature…

And my own art is slowly taking shape.

Colour, nature, magic…

What’s your inspiration?

For the Love of Books #24

With summer upon us, I thought I would bring you some wonderfully inventive reads, colourful enough to add vibrancy to any sun-filled day. It’s a trilogy of novellas, bringing us Binti, a young woman from the Himba people, who reveals Namibia in a whole new light, treating us to an intimate glance of the rich traditions of this tribe: a desert people who wash with red clay and oils from flowers. Or at least it starts that way…

From an author intent on showing the magic of Africa through the magic of Africanfuturism.

Binti, by Nnedi Okorafor

Binti is the first of Namibia’s Himba people to be offered a place at Oomza University. But to take the place means defying her core traditions, leaving her family behind, and risking scandilizing her entire bloodline. Nevertheless, she heads out into the galaxy and into a world that incorporates biotechnology, with space ships possessing natural exoskeletons that could genetically enhance to grow breathing chambers. There is also an interesting fusion of fantasy: astrolade scanners that can see a person’s future; and strange, many-pointed artefacts called Edens, that no one knows the function of, just that it appears like art. It is one of the many ways in which this author’s work is often genre defying, and defining, with stories championing their own rules, paving the way for real innovation.

Binti is a skilful builder of astrolades and gifted as a harmonizer, but knowledge comes at a cost and the journey is far from easy. The Meduse are an alien race and long-term enemy of Oomza university, and now they are attacking her ship to devastating consequences. But our plucky heroine is grounded by the wisdom of her people, a tribe obsessed with innovation and technology, although as a general rule, they prefer to explore the universe by travelling inward.

Binti Home, by Nnedi Okorafor

Binti is returning home, after a year of study at the university, with her alien friend, Okwu. She is not the same girl and it is not certain that there will be a place for her among the tribes of her desert homeland. She has been suffering PTSD after what happened on the journey out – waking dreams and hallucinations – and has been seeing a therapist.  As she approaches home, she considers how she hasn’t told her family about her hair not being hair anymore, that it was now a series of tentacles resulting from Meduse genetics being introduced to her genetics. She was still coming to terms with the sensation, and could hide the truth when speaking with her family through the astrolabe, but in person she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that her locks moved on their own.

Surprises await her at home, and while some of her tribe are resistant to Binti’s changed outlook, acquired through inter-solar travel, the truth cannot be denied: Binti has seen the Night Masquerade. And so the story is told, blending culture and tradition with the innovation of space travel and marvellous invention. I loved the Africanfuturistic vison, with solar power ingrained into homes, covered by bioluminescent plants growing on the outside, homes that are more like self-sustaining creatures than homes. Among the tribes of her homeland, Binti learns about the mysterious and ancient edan she wears, and she discovers more about her origin, among the undying trees of the desert.

Binti, The Night Masquerade, by Nnedi Okofafor

In this concluding part to the trilogy, Binti returns, with a heartfelt tale that makes you just love her even more. A war is coming, and together with her new friend, Mwinyi, Binti attempts to stop it. Prepare for a feast for the imagination in what feels like an explosive finale. I adored the narrative, each word alive on the page, bursting with colour and invention. And I loved the deep-dive into the desert hinterland and the mysteries of the tribes. While Binti’s truths are layered in visions brought on by the alien zinariya, humanity and alien once again merge, taking us on a cascading journey of glorious technicolour. As Neil Gaiman says, ‘Prepare to fall in love with Binti.’

What are you reading?

Layers

Graced by warmer weather, I recently visited wisteria tunnel, lucky to catch it in full bloom. Eye-catching from a distance, intriguing up close, with a heady floral aroma that brings a hazy shift in time, fluctuating shades of purple that are mesmerising to the eye, and criss-crossing, weaving, winding branches with pathways to everywhere and nowhere… Combined with the surrounding parkland flora and fauna, and the human traffic strolling by with all of what we carry, and it’s a complex, layered scene. It’s an analogy I recently thought of, akin to storytelling.

Talk of worldbuilding to a SFF writer is like bread and butter. I deal in worlds, and within those worlds, different lives, perspectives, roads travelled, survival and future aspirations. There may be a thread I’m primed to process, a theme that motivates, but ultimately it starts with a world I’m keen to explore. Plots, characters, themes are common to all stories, but imaginative worlds are the reason we return. Once we have an idea of the world, we can build in elements of friction, stumbling blocks to weave stories around.

But first comes the world, underpinned by layers to forge a social, political, cultural identity. The identity of the aforementioned wisteria tunnel was the size, the majesty, the colour, the heady aroma, the movement, the interplay with its surroundings and visitors… The identity of a fictional world relies on a similar scope: beliefs, habits, communication, trade, language, love, laws… If you build a world with enough layers, it becomes immersive: a place that feels real, where you can visit. People don’t return to middle earth to see Frodo and Gollum battling over a ring at Mount Doom. They return for the colour, for the magic, for the sense of adventure contrasting with cosy feasts by enormous fires.

In my own Blood Gift Chronicles, layers come from cultural and geographical landscapes, with identities intrinsically linked to the natural world. History, mythology and belief bring texture, wildlife brings sound and aroma, art brings colour, and personal motivations bring drive. And there is no shortage of drive. And for the extra vibrancy comes magic in many forms, from the ethereal, the natural, to the apparent hierarchical, and yet nothing is as it seems in a complex world. I am a sucker for origin stories, ones that defy tropes, that are illuminating, enlightening and surprising. Not to mention venturing beyond the mundane with fantastical creatures pushing the boundaries, and providing magical metaphors for the world as we know it. Needless to say, I’m having fun with Book 3.

For now, it’s back to my characters, forging new paths, battling against powers that seem indestructible. And once again I’m reminded of the role stories play in serving as grounding metaphors.

‘We live in capitalism, its power seems inescapable – but then, so did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begin in art. Very often in our art, the art of words.’

Ursula Le Guin

Wild Inspiration

With a rush of book events this spring, I was forced to take a break from the novel writing, though that will begin again soon in earnest. A recent event, Hartland Book Festival, gave food for thought and a big dose of inspiration. It was my first time venturing to Hartland Peninsular, and it was great to meet local authors, network, share ideas, and chat to new readers. It was also great to meet the hosts of the event, The Resurgence Trust, and share thoughts on the connection between social justice, community and environmental concerns, as well as the connection with the arts – core values of the organisation, and themes present in my series, Blood Gift Chronicles.

Thanks to my lovely wife for keeping me company, and after a few bookish hours, also involving coffee and cake, we headed out for some sight-seeing to the dramatic quay coast, with sharp edges and rugged bronze and black rocks, like stepping into the Iron Islands of Game of Thrones. Talking of themes in my books, spot the dragon part-submerged.

It was a perfect day to venture on to Speke’s Mill Mouth Waterfall, and finish up with a drink at the quay with a view of Lundy island. With various information snippets scattered among the old fishing cottages, it’s a comfort to feel the presence of stories.

And like I said, it was a day of inspiration, among jagged cliff edges, wild coastline, and moorland heath, I was reminded of the archipelago of islands in The Warder, and the island of Evren, a place we return to in Book 3. Soon…

 

For the Love of Books #23

Spring in the UK, from heavy rain to glorious sunshine, fading daffodils to colourful tulips; the unpredictability of changing seasons brings its own kind of magic. And so I’m stopping by with two recommendations of stories with magic in recognisable worlds.

The Iron Brooch by Yvonne Hendrie

In 1940s London, seventeen-year-old Brigid chooses an iron brooch, a family trinket, as her ‘something old’ to wear on her wedding day. But the heirloom is more mysterious than she could have imagined: through it she receives bird-like visions of Scotland’s Doon Hill in Aberfoyle, the place of her father’s homeland. Pregnancy forces Brigid to leave her family home and head to London to find lodgings, but the visions grow stronger, leading Brigid right out of 1940s time, for a while.

So begins the magical dual-timeline novel, connecting 1940s London inextricably with 1690s Scotland, and the story of Robert Kirk, searching for his lost love in realms beyond this world. It is around the time of the festival of Beltane when the veil grows thin, revealing fae sightings and dangerous magic from a wholly mysterious race. Robert’s heartfelt search leads to research and a resulting manuscript, ‘The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies,’ by Robert Kirk, a book Brigid grew up reading.

I was absorbed by Brigid’s story from the first, moved by her struggles of grief and pregnancy, and rooting for her as she is forced to navigate the world alone. And as she increasingly sees through the veil, I was utterly captivated by the depth into which the author delves into the preternatural, while expertly grounding us into the real. It is a truly spellbinding tale so tightly woven, that for a moment at least, you question the flickering haze in the corner of your eye.

A Master of Djinn by P.Djeli Clark

The year is 1912, and Lord Worthington oversees the gathering of a secret brotherhood, established to uncover the wisdom of Al-Jahiz, the disappeared Soudanese mystic. The world sits at a precipice, man’s ability to create has exceeded his ability to understand, leaving dangerous forces at play. A masked man arrives, claiming to be Al-Jahiz, and slaying the Brotherhood with powerful magic.

Meanwhile, Fatma is puffing on her hookah. Enchanted massel is a banned substance, but Fatma is practised at sorcery, skilled in conjuring the smoke. While surrounding deals are made over discovered antique bottles, Fatma produces her badge which states she is with the ministry, an organisation charged with creating balance between the mystical and the mundane. When a eunuch arrives with a message for Fatma, she heads off to Giza to investigate the supernatural crime at Lord Worthington’s house. Twenty-four people are dead, burned by fire, though there are no signs of a fire. Abigail, Lord Worthington’s daughter, saw a masked man in the house, but otherwise the identity is a mystery. And so begins a detective investigation by Fatma, her new partner, Agent Hadia, and her old love, Siti.

A magical read, founded on the old Gods entombed beneath the earth of Egypt in colossal sarcophagi, like the Pharoahs of old. And among the hum drum life of Egypt’s streets, alive with tantalising description and compelling narrative, there are men in gold masks, ghuls, beings of flames called Ifrits, and elemental djinns with ephemeral bodies as transparent as sheer fabric. Among city riots, the investigation is brought alive by the central relationship between Fatma and Siti, two women, or a woman and a djinn? And as momentum gains pace, the characters deepen, exploring identity, exploitation, oppression and magic, bringing to life the humanity of magical beings.

What are you reading?

Eastercon 2023

Reflections of a busy weekend in Birmingham for this year’s Eastercon, an annual convention of all things sci-fi, fantasy and horror. It was great to be there in person, representing Blood Gift Chronicles with readings from The Warder.

And it was a great chance to catch up with my publishers, Stairwell Books, at home with a fabulous book table in the dealer’s room.

As a writer/reader/watcher of these genres, the fact that I love them goes without saying. But it’s conventions like these that give you the deep dive into a world that knows no bounds, and demands that you look harder, root further, for all we bring as writers, and for all we celebrate as readers. I took part in many great panels, which in themselves is revealing, including topics around feminism, LGBTQ+, young adult, older protagonists, and cats – which proved popular for a nation of cat lovers!!! Plus it was great to meet new people, talk with readers, share ideas, support and encouragement, and be inspired by possibility.

It is always interesting to reflect on the power of representation and its role in fuelling liberation, on a personal level with the potential to translating into wider society. Empowered people seek liberation. And then, while standing on the shoulders of giants, (thank you Ursula Le Guin and Octavia Butler, among others) we imagine anew and expand on ideas of possibility. As far as the environment goes, it has never been more urgently needed. Whilst I may expand on some ideas in future blogs, for now, a special mention to the ever-growing young adult market, a genre for all ages, with enormous range, scope and potential. Personally, as far as politics goes, the future depends on young people, as well as an open line of communication across generations. And what better way to share than through stories.

“We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings. Any human power can be resisted and changed by human beings. Resistance and change often begins in art, and very often in our art, the art of words.” Ursula K. LeGuin

Speaking of the environment, it was a breath of fresh air to appreciate a big pocket of wilding among the urban, from Canada geese at the NEC, to promising bat boxes. And a special injection of art, with lilies on the water, and a sculpture entitled ‘Beyond All Limits’ by Luke Burton, specially commissioned to commemorate the London 2012 Olympics and Paralympics, and dedicated to Help for Heroes.

 

 On a different note, it was a special someone’s birthday on Monday, and since we were in Birmingham, what better way to celebrate than a visit to Cadbury’s World, followed by dinner at TJI Fridays…

Goodnight Birmingham…xxx