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fanfic-cave · 3 years

Text

Injured Pt 1.

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Subtle hint to Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Shootout/skirmish, swearing, I might hurt your favorite TBB character dont kill me yet

Summary: You commissioned the bad batch to take you to Dantooine for your own personal mission in search of a Jedi temple. How will this ex-Jedi war veteran trying to hide from the Empire help the rogue clones when they inevitable get caught up in the fight? And who will get hurt?

Authors note: I had this fun idea of writing an action piece with TBB, and I've had some more fun ideas with a Jedi OC getting caught up in their shenanigans. My first draft was kinda long winded, so i'm making this a 2 parter. If this gets well received enough to make me feel more confident in my writing (like 20-30 likes or smthing) ill post part 2 :)

ALSO im a big KOTOR fan so there's the tiniest tiniest hint to that ("jedi temple" and "Bol") with being on Dantooine.

Okay now for real, enjoy!

edit: thanks for the notes! link to pt 2 here

Your speeder zoomed by quickly, passing some local Bol ranchers. Dantooine was full of them, and farms too. The rural planet was actually quite peaceful, that was, until the empire arrived. Now that they were governing over citizens, they began cracking down and enforcing strict trade and farming laws. You interacted with some of the locals, and despite the clone wars being over they didn’t seem to have much love for the new Empire.

The Bad Batch had come to make a supply run, trade for food and fuel on the very small landing station, and also to escort you to Dantooine per your request (you had paid them too). Instead of paying with credits for their supplies, they had to do some “manual labor”, helping the local farmers. Based on how quiet they had been on your comm link, you thought they had been quite busy. You had your own objective here though, one you had just completed. Now you needed to leave.

You got closer to the station, and saw a high count of imperial troopers. You swore under your breath, and suddenly you felt like the items in your pack weighed more, or would suddenly burst into flames. Kyber crystals don’t catch fire, you told yourself. I think.

You pressed your comms and began to speak “I’m en route to the ship, and we’ve got imperials at the station, I hope you’re ready to take off.”

Silence.

“Kriff!” You said aloud. You slowed the speeder to a stop. The strange group of rogue clones were known for finding trouble. You had really hoped they wouldn’t find any while traveling with you.

“Tech, Echo, Hunter? Does anybody copy?”

You heard explosions in the distance.

Kriffing idiots! You shook your head in frustration and put a hand around your vibroblade holstered at your hip. It didn’t take the force to know they were behind this.

“You’re about to have some more company” you heard Hunter over the comms, blaster fire in the background.

“What the hell did you do??”

“Get to the ship, we need to make a fast exit, with or without you.”

More profanities went through your head. You engaged the speeder, faster than you were going earlier. You could hear blaster fire. You had been making a beeline to the ship, prepared to avoid the troopers, but something tugged at your mind.

They’re in trouble. You were a very intuitive person, partially because of your training as a Jedi, and also because that was just in your nature. You thought for a moment, contemplating what action to take.

Trust your gut.

You swerved and headed straight for the fighting. You slipped your mask on, and pulled up your hood. You saw some troopers marching towards the fighting, blasters in hand. They hadn’t noticed you were heading straight for them.

Glad I came to save your asses. You thought. Well, you needed them to pilot, so you were saving your ass too. One trooper turned, and pointed at you. The others started to notice too.

You set the speeder to continue forward without needing your foot on the accelerator, and balanced your feet on the seat. It kept accelerating in speed, heading straight to the center of the 10 or so troopers. Just before their blasters fired, you leaped off the bike gracefully, launching yourself high in the air. The speeder crashed into one trooper, and spun into another 3.

You landed with no problem, and prepared for action. You dodged several blaster shots, and pulled out your vibroblade. You dashed toward a trooper to the left, and cleanly sliced at a weak point in the armor. He clutched his side, and fell to the ground. One came behind you, grabbing your elbow. You shoved your elbow into his face, and heard a crack. He staggered back, and you ducked to avoid another blaster shot, getting a quick slash into the trooper you had just elbowed with a flick of your wrist.

You jumped and did a backflip, effectively avoiding another wave of blaster fire. On your way down, you stabbed another trooper in the side, and grabbed him, using him as a human shield to block more oncoming shots. You sheathed the sword, grabbed his hand holding the blaster, and shot towards an oncoming trooper. He fell down, and you fired at the remaining two who charged, and they were quickly out of the fight. You released the trooper you used as a meat shield. The entire group was now down and injured, not able to fight.

You dropped the blaster and started to run towards the main fight, but then you halted as a thought occurred to you. You crouched down to a fallen command trooper and took his comm links. This might come in handy. You continued forward, shoving the unit in your pack. You resumed your dash towards the source of the previous explosions. You first saw Crosshair, providing cover fire while taking cover himself behind a transport.

“The cavalry’s here” you said on your com link. Next you saw Tech, using two blaster pistols. He was close to Wrecker, who was throwing barrels at a group of troopers. You think they were filled with grain. Hunter and Echo were circling the troopers, trying to get a good flank while Wrecker was effectively distracting them. Hunter spotted you and spoke through comms “What are you doing? Get to the ship!”

You ignored him, and pulled out the blade again. You managed to ambush some troopers and sliced through them easily, taking down 3 in less than a minute. “You should thank me, I just took care of the reinforcements heading this way.”

You saw a knife hit the chest of a storm trooper you were just about to stab through the shoulder. Hunter emerged from behind you and retrieved his knife from the now fallen trooper. Show off, you thought.

“Why didn’t you go to the ship?” Hunter demanded.

“I had a feeling you guys could use the help.” You replied.

He looked at you for a moment after you said this, and with his helmet on you couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. You thought he might be shocked at what you said. You noticed a trooper approaching you two, lining up a shot on Hunter. You quickly grabbed a stray blaster from a fallen trooper and shot him down. Hunter was quick too; within a second of your shot, he shot another trooper not too far away. He looked back to you, and gave a quick nod in thanks.

“What did you guys do to attract the Empire?” You asked suspiciously.

“Well to put it simply, we severely disabled a facility belonging to the Empire as a form of payment. They appear to be quite agitated with us.” Tech replied through comms.

You ducked to avoid another blaster shot, Echo returned the shot and the trooper fell. “Gee, you think so?” You spoke sarcastically.

“We need to retreat and get back to the ship.” Echo spoke, taking cover a few feet away.

“Where’s Omega?” You interjected. You looked around for her, still not seeing her. “Back on the ship, the mission was too dangerous for her to come.” Hunter replied.

You sighed as blaster shots continued to go off in the background. “What's the plan?” You heard Crosshair speak through comms. He sounded annoyed, but he almost always sounded annoyed to you, amongst other things.

Hunter thought for a moment, and then he addressed the group. “Alright, Crosshair, you’ll provide cover fire while we retreat. We’ll need some more noise too-”

“I’ve got something that can help with that.” You interrupted. “Give me some cover.” You raised up the blaster you had grabbed, then ran over to Tech, firing shots as you went. Hunter and Echo emerged from their cover to fire at the troopers nearby you. Once you arrived you ducked down behind cover and threw the stolen comm link to Tech.

He caught it with both hands. “An imperial com unit?” Tech looked at it curiously, then shifted his eyes to you. “I thought you might be able to use it. Think you can cause some mayhem with it?” You asked curiously. Tech inspected it for a quick moment. “Oh yes, this should work.”

“Alright. Wrecker, Sera, keep the troopers off Tech. Echo and I will try to keep them on us. When Tech gives the signal, we move.” Everyone got their weapons ready, Echo nodded. “No problem!” Wrecker said enthusiastically and gave a thumbs. You also nodded as confirmation that you were ready.

Echo started firing at troopers, Hunter pulled out his knife and began alternating between slashing through troopers and shooting with his blaster. Wrecker was closer to you and actually picked up a trooper and threw him. You provided some cover fire and stayed close to Tech. He was fiddling with the unit.

“How much longer?” You asked after a minute passed. “Almost…” Tech said. You felt a sudden sense of urgency, and lifted your head up, searching around. “Somethings not right-”

Hunter leapt out of cover and ran over to Wrecker, who was laughing and enthusiastically throwing some heavy boxes at the troopers. “Wrecker, get down!”

You heard shots fire, and they were different. Wherever it made contact, there was a small explosion. This was some heavy fire power. The blasts made a sweeping arc. It fired towards Crosshair, who had to roll out of the way. You and Tech ducked as a shot came your way. You were knocked back a few feet from the closeness of the explosion. You lifted your head up and saw Echo was okay, and then you looked for Wrecker and Hunter.

Wrecker managed to avoid getting hit, he was to the right lying on the ground behind cover. Hunter wasn’t as lucky though. It looked like he took some blaster fire, and fell to the ground on his back. He was holding his side, and you saw blood on his hands.

#tbb #the bad batch #star wars #tcw #the clone wars #Echo #Hunter #Crosshair #Wrecker #Tech #Empire #Dantooine #Action #Fanfic #hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #Jedi #Ex Jedi

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

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Nights of Villjamblah

by Wardog

Friday, 24 June 2011

Wardog tries and fails to like Nights of Villjamur.~

I really should have liked Nights of Villjamur more than I did. And that's the sort of line that sets one up for a damning review but I honestly feel quite bad about it. It's full of the sort of things I generally appreciate but for some reason it left me frustrated that it wasn't, with all this promise and potential, somehow better. Without attempting to make uncontrolled, unsupported declarations about a genre as complicated and evolving as fantasy, I'd put Mark Charan Newton on the same team as writers like Abercrombie and Abraham, although if you're into literary genealogy you can certainly trace the influence of Vance and Mieville in there too. But what I'm trying to get at here is that we're talking punchy, modern fantasy; brutal, cynical, self-consciously anti-Tolkeinesque and hopefully weighing in at five hundred pages or less. The problem is, however, that as much as I enjoy this uppity, edgy, fantasy, there's already an extent to which it's becoming stale. Maybe if I'd read Nights of Villjamur two years ago, my tiny mind would have been appropriately blown, but I came away with the distinct impression it was like Abercrombie without the style and Abraham without the sophistication. On the other hand, it is a début novel and it is not by any means totally awful so I'd certainly be at least mildly interested in seeing how Newton develops.

The Jamur Empire is yer typical rich, sprawling, corrupt fantasy Empire, except there's an ice-age coming, and the Emperor has just killed himself in a fit of crazed paranoia. Cue: political shenanigans, and some other stuff. The reason I'm having a hard job summarising the plot effectively is that it's one of those multi-stranded jobbies, but the threads only come together right at the end, if at all, which makes the experience of reading Nights of Villjamur rather disjointed. Some of the involved parties are: Commander Brynd Lathraea, doing soldiery things, Inquisitor Jeryd investigating the murder of a city councillor, and Randur Estevu who hails from some kind of island race of martial artists / sex workers / dancers and has been brought to Villjamur to teach the Emperor's daughter how to dance.

I liked, in abstract terms, nearly all of these characters but their plots arcs were so wildly different in tone and style that, rather than illuminating different aspects of life in Villjamur as I suspect must have been the intention, they interfered with each other. Jeryd, for example, acts like he's in The Maltese Falcon - he's old and weary and tormented by the failures of his personal life. He's also a weird cat-person-creature but let's not go there. I had no idea what was going on with the rumel, and the last time I encountered a cat-based race it was in Green, so I'm still scarred. But his consistent failure to solve the crime, when even I was sitting there able to solve the crime, was infuriating and the the whole “one honest man versus political corruption” theme does not, in this case, co-exist comfortably in a world where you also have Brynd dealing with the brutal slaughter of entire populations. I know the counter-argument to this is “ah, but that's the point” but if it isthe point Newton does not carry it off particularly successfully, especially when Randur's swashbuckling antics are entirely at variance with both. Newton goes to great pains to create a society on the verge of ruin, a city rife with decadence and cruelty, and a world overrun with monsters and yet Randur is able to semi-thwart a massive political uprising, and stage a daring rescue, with a jolly group of peasants, who, despite living in deprivation and povert, are suddenly willing to fight to the death in defence of their oppressors. I don't, per se, have a problem with the more cartoon elements of fantasy but you can't serve up Chandler, Owen and Disney simultaneously.

It doesn't help that the supporting cast is extensive and depressingly one-dimensional. You have a Tuya, the jaded prostitute, Tryst, Jeryd's ambitious Iago-like aid who does, in fact, spend two thirds of the book engaged in acts of motiveless malignancy, Marysa, Jeryd's tediously virtuous and personality devoid wife, Eir the feisty Emperor's daughter who has her eyes opened to the true poverty of her kingdom, the fence with a heart of gold, the scheming councillor, the mad cultist, and so on and so forth. The three main characters are marginally better drawn but they lacked any true psychological depth or complexity.

Jeryd, for example, is manipulated by Tryst into believing his wife has cheated on him. Heading home in a partially drug-fuelled rage, he strikes her. Conveniently she wakes up somewhat confused and Jeryd lets her believe it was a dream. Neither the dimensions or the consequences of this are ever properly explored, nor are we really given opportunity to ponder how much responsibility (if any) Jeryd bears for either the action itself, or lying about it afterwards. Brynd's big secret is that he's gay, in a society where homosexuality is punishable by death, due to a line in one of the scriptures. I actually quite liked Brynd, but being tormented and alienated is still not really a substitute for having a personality. The presentation of his homosexuality wavers between the quite good and the horrendously heavy handed. Something that does come across well is the fact that it would be incidental to his character if not for the world in which he lives. And the chapter in which he meets up with his lover, Kym, struck me as reasonably successful, as the encounter is recounted with neither sentimentality nor sensationalism. But it's the only moment of subtlety in the entire text, and the rest of the time we're treated to reflections like this:

“Where's the big freak?” Apium said, before yawning and stretching with the grace of a tramp, astride his black horse. “I take it you mean Jurro?” Brynd said, after considering for a moment that he himself was the freak, or maybe Kym – men who loved other men, and who'd be killed if discovered. He could never shake off the paranoia.

I understand that this would be something on his mind a lot, but it's the clumsy exposition that really sinks it for me. This exchange takes place on page 331 of my edition – if I haven't got that Brynd is gay, and that being gay is punishable by death, by this point in the book, I don't think there's much more an author can be expected to do for me. Much of the interior life of the major characters is narrated to us in this flat, expository way. I don't want to fall back on trite maxims about writing but I would have liked to see character traits illuminated or demonstrated more through thoughts, interaction and behaviour, rather than simply being told about them.

Randur, for example, comes to the city through a slightly spurious set of circumstances in order to raise enough money for a cultist to bring his mother back from the dead. In order to get the cash, he has his job at the palace, teaching Eir to dance, but he also sleeps with rich, older women and steals their jewellery. He does explain, at one point, that he feels like he owes his mother a debt for all she has sacrificed for him but it never really feels convincing. After all, sense of filial obligation is one thing. Necromancy another. Needless to say, over the course of the book, he and Eir fall for each other and it turns out that resurrecting his mother isn't going to be possible, even with the money in hand. Here is the description of Randur's response:

His world imploded. Lying on Eir's bed later, he felt he wanted to vomit, but instead he cried like a ten-year-old as he told her everything. She sat next to him and waited for him to finish – he knew that, and he felt ashamed, to expose his emotions like this. But, despite her age, she possessed an unexpected, motherly quality. He liked that. After that, he got up and left, walked for two hours across the city bridges, then returned, damp and cold. Then he resumed crying. Eir held his hand. “It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.” She got up and lit lanterns and soothing incense and waited for him to compose himself. He realised he was comfortable being vulnerable in front of her. Soon he began to feel better, until somehow his failings as a son didn't seem to matter quite as much.

Given that this is a significant moment in Randur's personal development, and his relationship with Eir, I felt it was rather over-narrated but I read the ease which he apparently gets over it as evidence that his original goal was immature, and not something we were really expected to take seriously. However, a chapter later we're being narrated at again:

Eir had even given him some jewellery: a plain silver chain to go around his neck, two rings for his fingers. She had supported him so much that he felt he owed her is very soul if only he could give it. Eir's biggest gift to him wasn't monetary but psychological. Perhaps all he'd ever needed was to actually love someone else.

Once more, I can't quite unpack the tone of this. It sounds so ludicrously trite that I was half-tempted to read it as being in some way ironic. And I'm, incidentally, not thrilled with Eir's sudden detour into maternal saviour, although I can't tell whether that's meant to be Randur's distorted perspective, since Eir only has about three personality traits and none of them, thus far, have been even remotely maternal. But ultimately it's just another example of the way that heavy-handed attempts to explain the psychological development of the characters ruins their portrayal.

The other thing you can see from these quoted paragraphs, is the occasional banality of the writing, and its general clumsiness. For example, we have three awkwardly repeated 'thats' far too close to each other in “he knew that, and he felt ashamed, to expose his emotions like this. But, despite her age, she possessed an unexpected, motherly quality. He liked that. After that...” The book is riddled with such unnecessary annoyances, and the style itself is as inconsistent as everything else. Dialogue is generally naturalistic, with a fair few fucks thrown in for good measure, the prose style is plain and expository to the point of tedium, but occasionally Newton struggles towards a Mieville-like excess, which often just falls flat:

A truculunt pain shot through him and he screamed … he stumbled forwards, his hands clutching for wet stones, then began to spit blood on the ground … Sensing his life fluid filling the cracks between the cobbles, the blood beetles came and began to smother him, till his screams could be heard amplified between the high walls of the courtyard. One even scurried into his mouth, scraping eagerly as his gums and tongue. He bit down so he wouldn't choke, split its shell in two, and spat it out, but he could still taste its ichors. Councillor Ghuda was violently febrile.

I honestly have no idea what that means. I understand the individual words but the connection between them, and the the being eaten alive by bugs, not so much. A major component of Newton's Mieville Aspirations is the city of Villjamur itself, which I'm sure is meant to exist as vividly in the narrative as New Crobuzon in Perdido Street Station. I'm honestly not a huge fan of Perdido Street Station and I found the descriptions of the city a little overweening but I will admit that they got the job done. By contrast, Villjamur never became real to me and, if anything, Newton is trying so hard to have it make an impression on the reader that the overall affect is one of artificiality. Devices over conviction. For example, there's a self-conscious weirdness to Villjamur - it has blood beetles and banshees, and garuda – but these just feel like a checklist. And scenes or chapters tend to end with the narrative moving away from the thoughts and actions of the characters to more general statements about the mood of the Villjamur. The contrast, I suspect, is meant to create a sense of distance between the struggles of individuals and the vast intricacies of the city itself:

After that the three of them watched the falling snow in companionable silence. Street fires and lantern lights glared defiantly for another bell, but one by one they fell into shadow. Voices in the streets beyond quietened and soon there was only the sound of the wind probing the city's countless alleyways.

However, the more Newton falls back on this technique, the more transparent it becomes, and the more I resisted his attempts to “sell” me Villjamur. As the book progresses, he takes to refering to the city as if it should now be familiar to us (“Another one of those melancholy nights of Villjamur, in which a pterodette called out across the city's spires so loudly it sounded like a banshee”) but by that stage I was already convinced that Newton had failed to force me into a relationship with the city, and therefore this assumption of familiarity annoyed me and further alienated me from the Villjamur Newton was so desperately trying to evoke.

The thing is, barrage of negativity aside, it's not as bad as all that. I did, after all, read the thing and I was mildly engaged by the plot and some of the characters, even in spite of the heavy-handed narration and my increasingly irritation with having Villjamur forced down my throat. As a personal, rather than general, criticism I realised at about the halfway point that there wasn't a single interesting woman in the entire book. Obviously having diverse and well-rounded female characters isn't a moral necessity and it's perfectly reasonable for any writer to simply not be interested but for me to really enjoy a text I'd probably prefer it wasn't a massive sausage party. The Emperor's eldest daughter seems intriguing but she isn't in it enough for me to be able to judge. Eir is feisty-by-numbers and, consequently, irritating. Tuya starts off promising and then gets drugged and abused by Tryst, in his pursuit of revenge over Jeryd, so she essentially becomes a cipher. Jeryd's wife is so lightly sketched she's barely a character at all. To be fair to Newton, the men aren't that interesting either but they at least get more page time. However, the one thing I did like was what I perceived to be a fairly healthy attitude to sex, both heterosexual and homosexual. There are a few non-explicit but nicely down-to-earth sex scenes. But, like anything else in Villjamur, sex is largely another commodity – and the men trade it as much as the women do. I liked the fact that women, incidental though they are to the text in general, were as active in pursuit of sex as men, just as acquisitive of pretty young things, and seemed to derive as much pleasure from it.

This being so, and because we haven't had one for a while, I present: Fantasy Rape Watch for Nights of Villjamur.

Number of non-straight men: 2

Number of non-straight men killed: 0

Number of non-straight women: 0

Number of men who sell themselves: 3 maybe*

Number of men who sell themselves who are killed: 0

Number of men who sell themselves who find twu wuv: 2

Number of men who sell themselves where the woman obligingly makes herself look hot for them: 1

Number of women who sell themselves: 1

Number of women who sell themselves who are killed: 1

Number of women who sell themselves who find twu wuv: 0

Number of women who sell themselves who manage to survive a bomb: 0

Number of virtuous, married women who manage to survive the same bomb: 1

*I am including in this category, Randur who sleeps with rich old women in order to pay for necromantic magic, Tryst who sleeps with an old cultist in order to acquire something he needs, and Kym who it seems to be suggesting gets around a bit.

Obviously, I'm being slightly unfair on Newton here. I wasn't actually all that bothered by the fact that Randur manwhores his way around Villjamur and this is sort of portrayed as being vaguely cool, whereas Tuya is stuck in a cycle of loneliness and bitterness. I saw this as being largely down to the fact they are very different people, and Randur is young whereas Tuya is forty. However, I was a bit annoyed by the fact Tuya, who had all the markings of being quite interesting (shock!), was treated the way she was by the narrative - victimised, sidelined and then conveniently killed.

In conclusion I would say that although I have really hammered into Nights of Villjamur, it's not actually as bad as all that. I found it quite frustrating to read but I didn't actively hate it: I liked Brynd, and Newton seems to have quite a good grip on his gender politics. It certainly has some promise and I can only hope that this goes some way to being fulfilled in the later books.Themes:

Fantasy Rape Watch

Books

Sci-fi / Fantasy

Emocakes

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valse de la lune

at 16:05 on 2011-06-24I remember really wanting to read this at one time, then a friend told me it was meh and I wrote it off. To this day I'm still vaguely curious but the fear of terribad racial/cultural appropriation compels me to keep my distance. Alas.

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Wardog

at 16:23 on 2011-06-24Well, as I said in my usual lukewarm fashion I quite liked Brynd... but my dominating response was "meh" over "ick." The novel is so bland that it's quite hard to get really wound up about it. I felt that the social issues, related to the coming ice-age (climate change, ho ho), Brynd's homosexuality and ye typical fantasy racism were pretty shallow, and consequently there wasn't really anything to get a grip on, either to praise or to criticise. I did think the islanders of Folke - they do dancing, swordplay and sex apparently - were a bit dodgy though, but to be honest I dismissed it as typical of the genre. I can see how there would be plenty to bother you though. I guess I was too busy fighting the bored to pay sufficient attention. Oh, and of course, you get the prejudice towards non-human races ... but, come on, cat-people are not a stand-in for people of colour.

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Vermisvere

at 16:48 on 2011-06-24Hmm...this doesn't sound like something I'd be keen to enter into my usual compulsory reading list, although it might be something I could probably sit through some cold winter night when I'm bored out of my mind.

And the way you describe it, Villjamur seems to strike me as being a bit like a fantasy version of Gotham City, minus all the crazy supervillains and Batman running around.

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Wardog

at 17:03 on 2011-06-24It is incredibly well-regarded so it's possible I've just experienced a profound failure of taste.

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Arthur B

at 17:10 on 2011-06-24

I don't, per se, have a problem with the more cartoon elements of fantasy but you can't serve up Chandler, Owen and Disney simultaneously.

This sounds like exactly one of the problems I had with

Steve Cockayne's debut novel

- it tried to fuse the conventions of so many different takes on fantastic material that it ended up tripping over itself. Ah well.

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http://everythingisnice.wordpress.com/

at 17:34 on 2011-06-24Not much point whiting out that spoiler about Tuya when you've got the Fantasy Rape Watch right above it!

I reviewed the book for Strange Horizons and came to a similar view to you. This was against the prevailing view at the time but I wonder if that has changed a bit. I've certainly seen lots of people suggesting Newton has improved as a writer as the series has progressed and have perhaps recalibrated their view of

Villjamur

(which is, after all, a debut novel). I've not read any of his other novels but I will definitely try him again at some point.

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Wardog

at 17:50 on 2011-06-24

Not much point whiting out that spoiler about Tuya when you've got the Fantasy Rape Watch right above it!

That is a good point - I fail at spoilers. But I guess you'd have to be paying attention to notice, or already familiar with the book.

I feel quite bad about not liking this more but since I remember a flurry of "zomg!awesome" at the time it came out I was genuinely a bit shocked. I am quite curious about his other books though, even in spite of my lack of enthusiasm for this one.

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Cammalot

at 22:05 on 2011-06-24Oddly enough, I'd just read through the entire thread on this book on Westeros.org last night. I came away feeling very intrigued by the premise(s) but with very mixed feelings about the (potential) prose.

But basically with so many things that have been really hyped in the last few years, elements have come out that have made me not only want to avoid the books like the plague, but wonder if I'm the crazy one, that everyone else in the world is not having a problem with this. (Emiko from "Windup Girl" springs to mind.)

I think I'll still try this one when it comes either to Nook or to trade paper, though.

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Michal

at 03:09 on 2011-06-25

but wonder if I'm the crazy one, that everyone else in the world is not having a problem with this. (Emiko from "Windup Girl" springs to mind.)

Well, count me as one other person who wasn't so crazy on The Windup Girl (and 'specially not Emiko). I didn't even finish it.

Also, I'm starting to notice our tastes are weirdly similar. Are you sure you're not my doppelganger?

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Cammalot

at 06:31 on 2011-06-25I can neither confirm nor deny. :shifty eyes:

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Wardog

at 14:43 on 2011-06-25

Oddly enough, I'd just read through the entire thread on this book on Westeros.org last night. I came away feeling very intrigued by the premise(s) but with very mixed feelings about the (potential) prose.

I'm, err, not not recommending it. I didn't like it much, but it certainly has potential and perhaps the series as a whole is better.

Also I am shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn that Michal is Cammalot's sock puppet... :)

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Vermisvere

at 15:40 on 2011-06-25

Also I am shocked, shocked I tell you, to learn that Michal is Cammalot's sock puppet... :)

*Gasp*

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

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Cammalot

at 16:48 on 2011-06-25So I can take credit for Michal's coherence! I am willng to go along with this.

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valse de la lune

at 21:27 on 2011-06-25SPOILER: everyone on FB is a sockpuppet of everyone else.

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Arthur B

at 21:46 on 2011-06-25And Charles Dickens hypnotised all of you into believing in everyone else.

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Vermisvere

at 05:11 on 2011-06-26

And Charles Dickens hypnotised all of you into believing in everyone else.

But wait...if I was hypnotised, then nobody exists...but if I was hypnotised, the one who hypnotised me must exist...but wait, if he exists, then my first statement must not be true...but, but...hey, wait a minute, ain't Dickens dead anyway?

Arghh! *goes into Rene Descartes overdrive-mode*

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Arthur B

at 09:05 on 2011-06-26It's all a game in Wilkie Collins' head.

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Alasdair Czyrnyj

at 20:35 on 2011-06-26

SPOILER: everyone on FB is a sockpuppet of everyone else.

Well, everyone except for me. I'm actually an artificial intelligence who covertly created Ferretbrain as part of a method for controlling mass society. So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will!

(BTW, secretly running America is nowhere near as much fun as it looks. I still wonder how the hell GW talked me into it.)

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Ash

at 20:55 on 2011-06-26

I'm actually an artificial intelligence

Wait, I thought that was me.

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Shim

at 23:46 on 2011-06-26I'm not a sockpuppet, I'm a bot-mediated copy-paste from a less well-known site.

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Arthur B

at 00:38 on 2011-06-27I'm a worm from LulzSec. That time the other week the site was down for hours? Yeah, that was me.

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Vermisvere

at 10:17 on 2011-06-27

So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will!

Free will? That's SO last century...

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Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2011-06-28

Alasdair: I'm actually an artificial intelligence who covertly created Ferretbrain as part of a method for controlling mass society. So congratulations, everybody! You have no free will! (BTW, secretly running America is nowhere near as much fun as it looks. I still wonder how the hell GW talked me into it.)

As I recall it was two batches of homemade cookies, a case of premium vodka, and a three-year subscription to the Reader's Digest. I always did wonder about the subscription part.

... Damn, there goes my cover.

“It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.”

Oh, that's some scintillating dialogue right there.

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Wardog

at 20:45 on 2011-06-28

Oh, that's some scintillating dialogue right there.

I know :( Not precisely sparkling in Villjamur, is it?

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Shim

at 21:14 on 2011-06-28

“It's understandable you're upset, Rand, so don't be so harsh on yourself.”

I just read that along with the

Playpen Freud-Jung film discussion

and absent-mindedly read it as Ayn Rand in some bizarre They Fight Crime scheme.

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Arthur B

at 22:02 on 2011-06-28That'd be a good teamup.

All Freud linking Rand's admiration of architects to phallic symbols implicit in skyscrapers.

All Rand trying to convince Freud that charity and compassion are illnesses that cry out for treatment more than schizophrenia or neurosis.

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Robinson L

at 00:36 on 2011-06-29Cast Liv Tyler as Ayn Rand and you can have Mortensen's Freud desperately attempting to convince Jung that there is not unresolved sexual tension between them whatsoever.

Jung: Sigmund old boy, you just said you wanted to get into Ayn's pants.

Freud: I mean

plans

- get in on her

plans

Jung: But you said

pants

Freud: Sometimes a slip of the tongue is

just

a slip of the tongue!

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Wardog

at 09:42 on 2011-06-29Hahaha!

Robinson is on fire today.

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Robinson L

at 15:30 on 2011-07-01

Kyra: Robinson is on fire today.

Yes, it was touch-and-go for a while there, but they managed to dowse me and get me to a treatment center and the med droids tell me I won't have to spend the rest of my life in a mechanical suit.

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Robinson L

at 15:30 on 2012-02-24

Mark C Newton: "Things I got wrong."

Re-posting from the Playpen (credit Cammalot for the original discovery) because the Playpen is such a transitory space and because this specific post and this sort of authorial self-reflection need a lot more love.

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Wardog

at 15:46 on 2012-02-24Well...I'm happy he's noticed he was crap but ... I don't really feel like blowing him for it ;)

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Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2012-02-24

Kyra: Well...I'm happy he's noticed he was crap but ... I don't really feel like blowing him for it ;)

No reason you should. And yes, this sort of thing should probably be the baseline for authorial self-reflection, but since so many authors fail to reach such basic levels of insight, it's important to point out when they get even this much right. I also like the way he articulates the point that "gritty" doesn't automatically = "mature," and I'm a bit taken with his tone throughout the piece, but that's a personal thing.

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Cammalot

at 22:19 on 2012-02-24Heh -- I'm not even too inclined to *read* him for it, but I've been seeing so much bad authorial behavior in my lurkings lately I felt compelled to point it out. It made me a happy.

I'm still not planning to pick up this one, but with Strange Horizons blurbing his second one as "What Villjamur wished it could be," I wouldn't toss it away if it wound up in my hands, so to speak. The premise is still intriguing, and it would be interesting to see what he's done with this insight.

(I've been hearing it in my head as "Vjillamur" all this time. This is the first I'm noticing how wrong I am!)

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Wardog

at 23:42 on 2012-02-24Hee! Authors Behaving Badly! I am kind of imagining cheap documentary film-making with GRRM and Pat Rothfuss and Joe Abercrombie all wearing skimpy outfits in hot-tubs and making out with each other for the camera... Actually that's basically what they do anyway, isn't it? Except on the Internet.

(also that image hurts my brain)

That's the thing, I think I probably quite like MCN. Like Daniel Abraham (I love you Daniel Abraham, you do not need to put on the bunny tail and go in the hot tub) most of the things I've seen him writing that aren't, y'know, fiction I've quite liked. He seems kind of down-to-earth, not *ragingly* sexist and moderately humble ...

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Arthur B

at 00:02 on 2012-02-25"Authors Behaving Badly" make me think of an overrated sitcom in which R. Scott Bakker and Jay Lake are slovenly flatmates who are constantly taken aback by their inability to convince the feminists living downstairs that they're totally on their side.

#Ferretbrain #Nights of Villjamur #Mark Charan Newton #Fantasy Rape Watch #Wardog #Emocakes

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