Tag: SFF

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

Stories to Inspire

Looking back over two years since the release of The Warder, Book 2 of Blood Gift Chronicles, and it’s been a busy time, visiting near and far with a story close to my heart. Continuing Suni’s journey from Return of the Mantra, and it was a joy to write a young woman finding her way and coming into her own, from a girl searching for justice and her own identity, achieving self-determination, and flourishing into a visionary thinker. In this sequel she is joined by Wanda and Luna, two protagonists who delve deep into the human condition. The world comes alive with wildlife, magic, and a new land with an intriguing and dangerous history…oh, and did I mention, dragons…
Like I said, a story close to my heart.
Huge thanks to all of my readers for your continued support, for every review and kind word said, and for every story out there that continues to inspire. Lots to come, and we’re looking forward to tripping to Birmingham very soon with Blood Gift Chronicles.
In the meantime, I’ll leave you with memories of a recent Comic Con here in Devon, brimming with stories to inspire…
 
 
Have a great week everyone!

International Women’s Day 2023

A few reflections on this year’s International Women’s Day, when I had the opportunity to join a wonderful collaboration of women for Dreadnought South West’s Occupy the Airwaves, a day-long extravaganza celebrating women’s voices on radio. AND I was thrilled to share the session with the fabulous Mama Tokus, soul, jazz, blues & gospel singer, whose spirit is contagious, and spoken word creations bring rhyme, tune, & cheeky reflections: perfect snapshots of life as we know it.

For my part, I brought a love of women in SFF, and stories that provide a common language, that help break down barriers, and speak to the social commentary of the times. With a special request from Mama Tokus to chat Afrofuturism, it was a great opportunity to share some of my favourite authors of this genre of reclamation: own voices reclaiming history, land, future aspirations, pushing through glass ceilings, decolonising space, minds and literature. From the pioneering Octavia Butler, interrogating power dynamics of race and gender throughout her range of titles, to the indominable Nnedi Okorafor, writer of the Black Panther comics, whose range of work speaks to colour, invention and empowerment. Her brand is specifically Africanfuturism and Africanjujuism, phrases she coined: speculative fiction based in Africa from the Sudan, to Namibia to Nigeria, and many places between.

Ah, and there wasn’t enough time to mention so many other great names: Eugen Bacon, Renee Sheree Thomas, Rivers Solomon, NK Jemison, and Nisi Shawl (with her insightful and memorable read, Everfair – historical retelling of King Leopold in the Congo, exploring what might have happened if the indigenous Congolese had had access to steam power).

And after wandering through the meanderings of Afro-futurism, my first song choice was Vul’indela by Brenda Fassie – described as the queen of African pop, she was a South African singer who did amazing things raising money for HIV/AIDS. This song, sung in Zulu, is essentially about a mother who is relieved when her son gets married, because she thought he was a player..!

And the second song choice… it has to be Tracey Chapman, a lesbian icon, and her song ‘For my Lover’, about a relationship that nobody approves of, but against all odds, she’ll do it anyway.

Onto my own, Blood Gift Chronicles, a world where many worlds fit, with interconnecting landscapes and societies built around nature and magic. And of course, it’s always a pleasure to talk about Suni’s extraordinary journey: from the patriarchal backdrop of Return of the Mantra, where we see Suni’s frailties and strengths as she survives, loves, fights and learns to stand with her own agency, highlighting empowerment, self-belief, and finding your own inner strength; through the twists and turns of adulthood as the series progresses. Because from the beginning I was motivated to write complex women with agency, to reflect the cost of exploitation and corruption, to challenge stereotypes, subvert expectation, redefine notions of strong, and create diverse character arcs with relatable experiences. We can appreciate our frailties, we can not only survive but we can thrive, we can feel fear but be guided by hope and love. And as a writer and reader, I’m guided by the fact that representation matters. When we see ourselves represented, it’s empowering, validating, and gives that sense of belonging.

Have a great week!

For the Love of Books #22

Approaching the end of LGBTQ+ history month here in the UK, and I thought I would share two SFF titles, if not for historical relevance, for the significance of representation. Sci-fi has often been seen as ahead of the curve in breaking barriers, and across the genres, marginalised voices are coming to the fore.

The Four Profound Weaves; by R.B. Lemberg

The first of the four profound weaves is woven from wind to signify change, invisible threads woven into whispered weaves, spun from a captured wind and revealing hints pf pink and silver desert hues. This type of descriptive narrative flows throughout this magical novella, with tantalising magic woven from the surrounds, almost plain to see but impossible to catch – just like a magic carpet, which was one of the reasons I was drawn to this book.

The story begins with Uiziya, sitting in her goatskin tent waiting for the return of her exiled Aunt Benesret. Her weaves cannot compare to Benesret’s, whose expert fingers could weave even from bones. Uiziya’s lessons of the Four Profound Weaves are unfinished, and still she waits to inherit her aunt’s loom, waiting to learn the weave of death. It’s a weave that involves an actual death. Benesret previously killed Uiziya’s husband for the sake of the weave. It was the reason Benesret was banished, because she killed. Nevertheless, it is a weave Uiziya must learn, since she is destined to become a great weaver of the Four Profound Weaves, one who would bring the gods themselves to her bidding.

Uiziya’s search for Benesret coincides with the Nameless Man’s search for his name. It is three months since the Nameless Man’s transformation at the ceremony of change, but his people, the Khana, don’t recognise transformed people, instead insisting that the shape of one’s body determines one’s fate. Uiziya is also a changer, since after weaving her cloth, the sandbirds came to her.

This is a brooding tale against a colourful backdrop, incorporating thought-provoking contemporary discussion of gender identity and transitioning. The Nameless Man ponders the social impact of his transformation: all his life he had been a lover, trader, and reluctant grandmother who cared for their grandchildren. Now he was a grandfather. But in his culture, grandchildren never saw their grandfathers. It is insight like this that gives real depth to character, narrative and backdrop. Fantasy woven alongside these personal journeys of transformation, reveal the challenges of surrounding microaggressions designed to undermine an identity to uphold another. I loved the simple statement given in one response to tireless questioning of a person’s identity: ‘This is what feels right to me.’

Thought-provoking themes set against an imaginative world called Birdverse, described with magical lyricism that is a feast for the senses, makes for a truly memorable story.

Gideon the Ninth; by Tamsin Muir

Enter the world of lesbian necromancers…

Gideon lives on a remote planet, home to both the stronghold of the House of the Ninth, and a tiny prison used for criminals whose crimes are so repugnant, they cannot be rehabilitated in their own houses. The Ninth House is an enormous hole cracked vertically into the planet’s core, and the prison is a bubble installation set halfway up into the atmosphere. Gideon first arrived when her mother mysteriously appeared, falling down the planetary shaft. Gideon, just one year old at the time, survived the fall. She was chipped, surnamed and put into the nursery. By age five they knew that she was not a necromancer, and by eight that she would never be a nun. By ten they knew she knew too much and could never be allowed to leave. By the time she is eighteen, Gideon has attempted to run away eighty-six times. The alternative would be to die in this dark netherworld, which would only be the beginning.

On the tenth thousand year of the King of the Undying, Prince of Death, Gideon makes another attempt, only to be thwarted by the Lady of the Ninth House, Reverend Daughter Harrowhawk. Harrowhawk has her own plans for Gideon: for Gideon to become cavalier primary of the House of the Ninth. Serving Harrowhawk may not be Gideon’s idea of a good time, but it’s the only way to leave. But what will she be leaving for?

Welcome to an inventive and ghoulish world, where mysterious tendrils lie in wait to ensnare and crush the life out of those still living; a labyrinth of death, bones, panic, quest and mayhem. Disorganised chaos is punctuated with sarcastic, sadistic and mysterious notes that speak to the reader as much to the characters, tempting you to turn the page and delve further into this Alice in Wonderland-esque creepy maze. Magically weird, dark worldbuilding, with lively narrative and well-scripted dialogue brings to life the humanity of necromancers.

What are you reading?

 

For the Love of Books #21

2023 so far has been filled with some magical reads. As writers we look for those layers to encapsulate and bring to life the essence of characters, cultures, worlds… and two titles stand out, for their intrinsic connection with music, that adds depth in a way that is difficult to define, because it’s as omnipresent as culture in stories masterfully woven.

Nine Bar Blues, by Sheree Renee Thomas

Nine Bar Blues is an extraordinary collection of evocative tales, rich, layered and textured with magic that haunts, uplifts and ascends any bounds of expectation. With prose that sings and muse that flies through the pages, I was hanging onto every word that guided me deeper into the authors layered imaginings and startling observations. From curse-bound sisterhood journeying to the source of ancestry, through poisoned landscapes of an other-worldly earth, to golden mermaids, tales are woven with musical renditions that move with the rhythm of cultural change, alive with the sounds of souls.

This is magic and fantasy rooted in the real; snapshots of life as sharp as cut glass that stop you in your tracks and make you lose your breath for a long pause. From contemporary social justice concerns, and words that carry the weight of history in finely-drawn prose, this collection speaks truth to the abuse of power, truths that sing to slave songs, lost souls, and the blues. An inspiring and masterfully woven collection.

Songspinners, by Sarah Ash

Orial works with her father, Dr Magelonne, in the Sanatorium of the spa city of Sulien. She is close to her father, more so since her mother, Iridial, died. Iridial had lived and breathed music, and now Dr Magelonne forbids music, since it provokes memories too painful to endure. But, like her mother, music flows from Orial like water. Only in the Undercity, at her mother’s shrine, can she practice the art that she has taught herself. But there she experiences strange visions in a waking dream – the searing pain of burning flames.

The underground labyrinth of the Undercity was built by ancient builders, the Lifhendil, commonly known as Songspinners in modern-day Sulien. Their artwork is still displayed on the Undercity’s walls, but their beliefs and language are lost, save for fairy stories and folk tale. This mysterious race possessed a unique trait – multi-coloured irises, which Orial and her mother shared. And as the world unfolds, revealing the depth of Orial’s gift, wonder, intrigue and danger merge.

In the Undercity, Orial is approached by refugees from Bel’Esstar, fleeing persecution from the Commanderie. One of the refugees, Amaru Khassian, is a composer, whose hands have been badly burned, injuries so severe, he won’t regain the use of his hands. A strange and unique connection exists between Orial and Khassian, one that makes clear to Orial that she simply must have music in her life, whilst for Khassian, a dangerous chain of events are triggered. Their personal music describes their uniqueness, and their contrasting and connected plights: Orial’s as darting and bright as a dragonfly’s flight; Khassian’s with despair and madness fuelled by ego.

This is an evocative, beautifully drawn world. I adored the magic, memorable, tangible, yet delightfully just beyond our reach, with tales of musical telepathy, faeries and dragonflies, and mystical reservoirs. Orial’s character was utterly captivating from the start, a thoughtful, determined, empathic young woman, and utterly intriguing in her magic as the story unfolds like an orchestral song. And as tensions run high in this complex world, the question remains, will Orial succumb to madness?

What are you reading?

Connections of a Bookish Kind

In my last post I talked about the importance of reading for writers. It is advice I follow, as seen in my ‘For the Love of Books’ blogs. On my reading journey, every so often I discover an author that stands out for all kinds of reasons, and upon discovering one of their titles, I look for more. Examples include Nnedi Okorafor, Eugen Bacon, Rivers Solomon and Patricia McKillip. To be clear, some of these authors have been around for some time, I just hadn’t been lucky enough to discover them sooner. The most recent example is Sarah Ash, after reading her fantasy novel, Songspinners. Look out for my review on a ‘For the Love of Books’ blog coming soon… I am grateful to have been able to forge a connection with this author, whose titles are many and I look forward to reading more. And I was thrilled to appear as her first guest of 2023 on her website. Click here.

It’s always interesting to uncover the story behind the story, the seed that develops into a whole new portal bound in pages. Small beginnings evolve, and it was wonderful to remember the encounters that developed into the genesis of my fantasy series Blood Gift Chronicles. What earthly sway inspires dragons? What layers do we seek to create to establish culture embodied within our characters. For me, art is one thing: representations and significance of art in the worlds; and narrative that seeks to bring visual scenes to the reader. It’s a train of thought I plan to revisit in the future. I’m in the business of culture, societies, landscapes, seascapes, worlds. My current work in progress is Book 3, an origin story giving closure to the big mysteries, while introducing new characters, a new landscape and a timeslip plot. We are interconnected, the past informs the present, the future is ours for the taking. I think fondly of my characters that I have lived with for so long, as I think of them tackling these life lessons.

Until next time…

Have a great week!