New column up over at Tor.com!
I’ve been quiet around here this week. Even quieter than usual. That’s because I a)got a new bike (WHEEEEEEE GO FAST PEDAL FASTER) and b)realised the deadline for my thesis corrections is… much closer than it used to be.
Quietness will probably continue until September. Unless I change my mind, of course.
And here are the very shiny books. Sarah McCarry’s DIRTY WINGS and ABOUT A GIRL, which I intend to write a column on; and Ilana C. Myer’s LAST SONG BEFORE NIGHT, which I am supposed to review for Tor.com. BOOKS!
A new column over at Tor.com.
Courtney Milan, The Suffragette Scandal. 2014. Kobo ebook.
Another excellent historical romance, this time set in the 1870s, from Courtney Milan. One of her best to date, I suspect.
Sarah McCarry, All Our Pretty Songs. St. Martin’s Griffin, 2013.
Read for inclusion in the column. Debut, lyrically written, very decent book.
Erika Johansen, The Queen of the Tearling. Bantam Press, 2014.
Read for inclusion in the column. I have conflicted feelings about this novel. On the one hand, I enjoyed the story, and the characters, and on the whole it cheered me up on a day where I was feeling rather gloomy about reading anything. But once I’d finished it, I realised the story took place in a very white, straight, cisgender world – and that made me sad all over again.
Sarah McCarry interviews Sofia Samatar at Tor.com:
You speak multiple languages yourself—do you think your ability to move between them informs the way you approach fiction? Or nonfiction? Or are those different places for you?
Well, I don’t know if this is going to answer your question exactly, but it reminds me of a conversation I had with a colleague recently. He’d read A Stranger in Olondria, and he said that, as someone who doesn’t read fantasy or science fiction, he was pretty uncomfortable for the first few chapters. It was the names. The names were throwing him off. He was like, “I didn’t know whether I was supposed to memorize these names or whether they were important or what!” Eventually he realized that he could just go with the story and relax, and then he started enjoying it. That was so interesting to me, because I’ve never, ever been thrown off by weird names. You can give me the first page of a story that’s 50% bizarre names, and I’ll be like, “Cool.” I just read it as music, as atmosphere. I know that eventually the important stuff will float to the surface, and the less important stuff will sink. And it seems to me that that’s a valuable skill, to be able to keep your balance in uncertainty, and that in fact it’s what I ask from my students when I teach world literature. Don’t let foreign words or unfamiliar syntax throw you. Trust the story. It’s a language student’s skill too, because when you’re learning, you’re often terribly lost. So I do think there’s a connection between my love for languages and my love for speculative fiction. Both of them ask you to dwell in uncertainty. And I love that. Uncertainty is home for me. It’s the definitions that scare me.