AW Blog Chain – Fire And Ice

This blog hasn’t been updated in a while (though you don’t need me to tell you that), and I thought that getting back into the swing of things was a good idea. Even better, using the blog chain gives me ample reason for mass linkage to some of the awesome blogs out there – and you really want to start clicking on these linkies if you haven’t visited the blogs before. So… linkage first, madness second.

orion_mk3 – http://nonexistentbooks.wordpress.com (link to this month’s post)
Ralph Pines – http://ralfast.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
areteus – http://lurkingmusings.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
Catherine Hall – http://theelephantinthetemple.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
bmadsen – http://www.bernardmadsen.com/ (link to this month’s post)
pyrosama – http://matrix-hole.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
meowzbark – http://erlessard.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
BBBurke – http://www.awritersprogression.com/ (link to this month’s post)
writingismypassion – http://charityfaye.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
wonderactivist – http://luciesmoker.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)
SuzanneSeese – http://viewofsue.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
randi.lee – http://emotionalnovel.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
Proach – http://desstories.blogspot.com/ (link to this month’s post)
magicmint – http://www.loneswing.com/ (link to this month’s post)
tomspy77 – http://thomaswillamspychalski.wordpress.com/ (link to this month’s post)

The prompt for the blog chain is “Fire and Ice”.

Image by Frank Frazetta. Go buy some of his paintings.

CONTENT WARNING – PROFANITY AHOY.

Fire and ice are at opposite ends of the thermal spectrum, and so aren’t linked by many things. Except volcanoes. Yup. You read that right – freaking awesome volcanoes at that. Sometimes it seems that the universe looks at our laws of physics and says “Fuck that, check this out” and does something outlandish. Not that, y’know, we should be surprised or anything, given that reality has already laid the smack-down on our understanding of life on our own planet. As a voracious reader, such things crop up surprisingly rarely in fiction because… Well, you simply wouldn’t accept being told about ice volcanoes, would you? It would be like those Kemlo books where the brat could breathe in space and had awesome adventures just because. Looking at the differences between fire and ice also brings up another question you are probably not going to give a damn about, but which gave me an unbelievable boner when I discovered it – you most likely know about absolute zero (−273.15°C), but you probably didn’t know that there’s an equivalent for fire as well. Unfortunately, some genius thought that “absolute heat” sounded good enough a name for this limit (where reality loses its shit and starts to break down), so scientists are forevermore doomed to say something which sounds like a bad eighties action film whenever they talk about this phenomenon.

Aren’t you glad I skipped over Gliese 436 to bring you all this other stuff?

There are a lot of myths about both fire and ice which are as fascinating for me as anything that reality throws at us – the phoenix, rising from the flames is an image not easily forgotten, and places such as Niflheimr (literally a land of ice) are as potent as any Greek He-Man wannabe. I spent rather too long a while back hunting down the origins of a rather more modern myth, concerning a Russian submarine which picked up a “corpse” on a chunk of ice only to find that the body (when defrosted) wasn’t as dead as imagined. The various tellings differ slightly, though the impossibilities of the repeated information make me think that somewhere along the line someone was having waaay too much fun propagating this piece of cold war nonsense – the life span of an iceberg isn’t that long, and to believe that the woman was recovered in 1988 and nobody has spoken about being on the sub which pulled her in beggars even the most credulous mind.

Those of you who know of my slightly (snerk) obsessive nature will no doubt be wondering when I’m gonna break out the inevitable reference to Fire and Ice from the Justice league, but… that would be too easy. And boring. Lets try something a little more highbrow.

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Robert Browning, 1920.

It is interesting that fire is linked to hate there. Written before the horrors of World War II, he couldn’t have imagined just how potent it would become for future generations. The notion of repeated apocalypses – apocalii? – has been a staple of myth for probably as long as there have been people. the Hopi believed that there have been three apocalypse events already. Handily, they occurred in the order of fire, ice, then the flood… I find this endlessly fascinating. Firstly, how the hell did they work all this out, and (more importantly) how did they come to that order? it fits with the scientific knowledge that a planet smashed into the earth, turning the surface into a molten goo. Then the massive ice ages (of which we are currently in the middle of a rather minor one), and… Hell, they nailed the fact that the last major ice age was followed by flooding when the sheets of ice covering giant chunks of the planet thawed. It is eerie. And that’s before we get into what the Mayans came up with, in between games of soccer with the heads of their enemies. It seems that no matter where you turn, there is another apocalyptic myth which begs investigation.

For everyone who knows anything about the universe, this is gonna be boring as hell, but for those of you who didn’t pay attention in school, it is important – there are currently two ways the universe is going to end. Go on – take a wild guess as to what those two ways are… Yup. Fire and ice. Again. Shit, it is almost as if the universe likes deliberately messing with us. Either everything spreads out to the extent that the skies will turn dark, and the end comes in a slow, freezing nothingness, or the universe pulls back on itself like a giant rubber band and contracts into a fiery point of everything, where the next universe will be born from a big bang. Like hitting reboot on your computer, though without any of the information being saved. Kind of a bummer. And don’t fret – mankind will be long, long gone by that point. Oooh – we might all be ghosts, watching as the shit hits the fan. That would actually be kinda awesome.

Aaaand that’s as far as I thought ahead for this. I suck, I know. I’ll leave you with a suitable song.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you are wondering how the hell I got through this entire post without mentioning George R.R. Martin, then join the club.

The Difficulties Of Research In The Internet Age

Writing about doing research makes up for a large percentage of things written about writing. However clunky that sentence is, it is a reminder that there are aspects to any story which require some thought and preparation – often in areas which are, due to reasons ranging from the age of the individual to their location, rather obscure. Going into this post, I was acutely aware that there are things others have pointed out which contradict my views on research, but there’s enough room in this subject (by merit of scope) that taking a fresh approach might open up new ideas for people to consider. Which brings me to the first of my points – the strata of research.

1 Common / Everyday Knowledge

This is the easy stuff to find out, as there are multiple ways to tackle acquiring the information, but it is still going to evade your grasp if you aren’t asking the right questions. It isn’t too hard to frame some of the material in context either, as this is the preserve of the everyday. One small concern when using the regular, routine and mundane material is redundancy – how many times do we need to be told that it is not advised to walk out into traffic? Interestingly, it is often in SF that these irritating chunks of information are passed around, as if they are great insights.

2 Location / Era Specific Common Knowledge

This is the follow-on from the first category, and whilst the information is still as readily available, it may be restricted to certain areas of research. A good example of this is one of my obsessions – yes, I’m back to talking about pop culture. It may be almost unheard of today, when the young ‘uns are too fidgety to sit through a black and white film in peace, but back in the Good Old Days ™ there were cartoons, newsreels, and even a completely free of charge B-movie thrown in to the cinema experience. Music used to be (at most) three or so minutes – with certain exceptions – and there was no crime; crime having been invented in 1973. That last bit of information might be a lie…

Actually, that was put there to show just how easily a person can be led by misinformation which has crept into the historical record through incorrect assumptions being given more weight than they really deserve. There was a page on Wikipedia, for example, which had a bit about a British comic running at a loss, and as there was no way to prove the information incorrect it was kept up, despite being a lie. It may not seem like something which people should get upset about, but every piece of incorrect data in a work of reference is another problem to overcome for historical accuracy.

3 Individual / Group / Company Specific Knowledge

This is where things take a sharp incline into “difficult” – researching things which are common knowledge to a small group of individuals, though may be completely unknown outside of that area, is one of the most frustrating things I have had to do. When you find someone willing to talk, the danger of them providing unsubstantiated information gets increasingly complex. There’s going to be more on this in a later post, and I’ll throw a few of the things I use to overcome this.

4 Specialist – General Information

This is knowledge which is specific to one area (diamond-cutting, car manufacture, publishing) which can be adapted for fictional uses, or supplemented for use within another area. It’s less difficult than it used to be researching this, as there are now multiple titles which offer introductions to areas which, until very recently, might have been the preserve of those who would enter the profession to gain knowledge of the ins and outs.

5 Specialist – Secrets

This is where “difficult” enters the realms of “impossible” to all but the most dedicated of researchers. You can be guaranteed that you will come up against heavy resistance to any kind of research which is regarded (rightly or wrongly) as being a secret. Of course, having pried a few of these out of people in the past (and accidentally revealing some) I know there are ways to get around the wall of silence. You might want to think twice before you publish anything which falls under this heading, as people take a harsh view of those who would expose things they want kept under wraps.

I’m going to take a longer view of this later.

6 Undiscovered Knowledge

And we come to the highest tier of the WTFery that anyone could possibly hope to research.

For all the vaulted merits of the internet, and the mass of information on tap 24 hours a day, wherever you happen to be, there are some things I can bet you won’t be able to easily track down. I know this. I’ve already looked. If, for example, a person was to write something about Wikileaks, where do you think the narrative would have to begin? Take a moment to think about this, because the question isn’t so easy…

Do you have an answer yet?

Aaaaaand… You’re wrong. Whatever you thought there, the correct answer isn’t 2010 (when traditional news outlets got their panties in a twist), 2006 (when the site was founded), nor 1971 (Julian Assange’s birth), because that does not cover the history of an individual taking it upon himself to reveal embarrassing facts regarding a political group or movement. In fact, if you want to write about Wikileaks there seems to be a precedent buried in the history books – way back in 1767 in the letters column of the London newspaper Public Advertiser, published by Henry Woodfall.

Of course, the newspaper seems to have completely vanished from anywhere accessible via the internet (if it was ever was available, that is), and none of the usual routes seem to take me closer to a copy of the letter pages, so Junius’ scathing indictment of King George III, and his parliament must remain under the “unverified” column. My notes don’t reveal where I found that nugget of historical information – and I’m not entirely sure that the information is even correct, as the newspaper isn’t available to check, so as a fact (or lack of a fact) it sits uneasily in a netherworld of things which I have yet to get around to. Cue epic headache, and the eternal frustration of research.

I’m probably going to take an especial interest in this area, so be prepared for a massive rant dialogue on the annoyance of trying to find something which has yet to be properly documented.

As Ripples On Water

Everything, as I have said many times before, is connected. The most seemingly isolated things are entangled, in ways which make even the most random and inconsequential items matter. When I started seriously putting the pieces of the non-fiction book together, adding fifteen years worth of notes and observations to the bare bones of an idea which I have carried with me from place to place, this became even clearer for me. I’ve (thus far) resisted the temptation to give too much away about the contents of the WIP, but as I cautiously move from segment to segment of the book, I realize that I’m not entirely sure of how much other people know. The notion of “common knowledge” seems to get further complicated as I attempt to write for an international, and more importantly educated audience.

The first thing which strikes me about writing non-fiction, and is in no way a slur on anyone else, is how often there are massive gaps in reference books. Not merely oversights, but whole sections of history which are so poorly represented that it would seem, to an indiscriminate eye, that such times have had no event of significance within the period described. I knew, right from the start, that I wanted to do something definitive with this, and having had long enough to consider how I wanted to proceed (in a subject which is still more or less virgin territory) it became clear that there were no suitable guides from which to draw on. A rough outline of contents has revealed to me the scope of the omissions in other peoples’ work, which means I have to strike out on my own if I want to do this right. In the short time I have been compiling the data, the vast world of interconnected information has slowly been revealed to me.

And it is scary.

Writing about books (in a way, for such is the nature of this tome), has been as complicated as anything I could possibly have imagined. There’s already over a hundred years of history I have to convey, and titles I need to track down, but of the material which is present and correct, very little information is already documented. This is not only new research I am having to do, it also bleeds into other areas I never expected to have to fix. The US side of the material (which is tertiary at best to what I intend) has so meager a bibliography that it isn’t worth my while reading further on the collated data there, and the European side of things is even worse – in English, at least. I’m opening myself to writing at least four or five books worth of information to back up the central data in the work in progress.

It isn’t just the paucity of good reference works about the books, it also concerns the magazines, comics and periodicals I am going to be covering. For a long time – until very recently – I had expected that there would be some sort of website or overly-priced reference book which I could work off as a starting point for further research, but that is not the case. I’m having to go through (by hand) decades of fragile documents to get the barest scraps of information required to find elements which correspond to the titles I am documenting, which is at least another book’s worth of great material sitting beside me. It’s slightly disheartening to think that there is so little interest in the history of an area of publishing that so little has been written as to necessitate such extensive research.

I’m going to hold my hand up here, and admit that I thought this would be easy. Hell, it’s not as if I ever go out of my way to do things which are on the very edge of impossible, even if it sometimes seems that way. It’s a good thing I am so obsessed with making my work as good as it can be, and – really important, given the titles which are in the same general area – encompassing, because I have the feeling the works which have set out to tackle similar areas were crushed by the ever-expanding reference pool which goes with crafting a definitive work in one area. It’s the ripples which get people every time. One thing leads to another, which opens a new field of query, then onwards… Outwards…

The ever-expanding pool of knowledge I am having to cope with may seem like a daunting task – and there are things I’m writing about which go back to the 1700s, so it is a very wide net I am casting – but I have the feeling that this is an important lesson, in many ways. If I hadn’t decided to tackle this work, then it would have remained forgotten by most as a blip which passed without much fanfare. There are names which are difficult to trace much of their work, and that’s another thing which annoys me a bit more than I find comforting. It’s pretty much up to me – as the only person who seems to be doing anything to preserve the knowledge – to make their work live on again. I really don’t like the responsibility which comes with that…

Maybe the ripple effect isn’t as bad for me because I need to write this. It isn’t because I have a feeling this will make heaps of money (in fact, I’m almost certain that the very limited audience for such a book is shrinking by the day), nor is it because there is a pressing need for such a book (given the absence of similar works on the market, that is a given), but the urge to write it remains. It’s the kind of thing I would buy in an instant if there was a title of distinction available. I may be overcompensating, by adding more information than is truly necessary for the work to stand alone, but all the elements build to something which has never been done before, and that excites me.

Do I want to be cited? To have my name in footnotes? This book, this folly of epic proportions, deemed a work which is to be read by people as a window into the small area of publishing it covers? I hope not. I do want the dissemination of information to go as well as possible, but the daunting and rather awful prospect of this graduating from a diversion to being an important title in its’ subject makes me uneasy. The way that I have been approaching the end-section of the book, unlike other reference guides, is to give it an equal weight of importance as the main body of text, and it’s probably the one thing I am most shocked with. There’s already indexed information which I can’t really grasp the reason for people excluding elsewhere, and the more I uncover (every day I seem to find some new and shiny fact) the more I am convinced that this book found me rather than the other way round.

Like ripples on water, the information grows.
Like ripples on water, it touches everything.

I can only hope I am up to the task of clearly explaining all that I hope to.

Refugees Of The Lost Kingdom

by Gary James

In the torrid dreams filled with flickering embers came the vision, unfocused at first – as if seen through a heat haze – soon clearing to reveal the indescribable, unmentionable terror which burned eternally far beyond knowing. Mensinus woke each morning drenched in sweat and fear, and – following his carefully set routine – tried as best he could to shake off the feeling that something terrible was soon to occur. Awakening from such dreams day after day was beginning to take its’ toll on the academic. The tumbling, turned-around and swept away reality he had comfortably accepted was a horrifying thought, but as a tangible and all too real nightmare it was unbearable – for ten thousand years the splendor and opulence of the city had been a magnet for the brightest lights in the sciences from across the globe. Representatives of the council had been sent out across the globe to bring together peoples of all cultures to the heart of humanity, but if the flickering sparks of destruction portended in fitful sleep were accurate, then all would be for naught.

In his alcove, Mensinus tried valiantly to concentrate on the scrolls of texts laid out before him. Maps and descriptions of foreign lands spread across the table pointed at the existence of so much he had yet to experience for himself – strange beasts and exotic vistas, wondrous plateaus and beautiful oases… So many experiences to be had, and yet the awful dreams encroached on even his fancies of travel. The flames of destruction were always present out of the corner of his eye, a constant source of perspiration to his brow. The Great Hall which had seemed so cavernous to him as a boy now felt unbearably close, and from his vantage point on the second floor appeared no less than a massive kiln from which an awful smoldering terror would creep, catch and engulf all. His hand swept at the maps, billowing dust into the air from the ancient works. “And here be dragons,” he sighed softly, aware of the implications his words held.

A deep rumble echoed through the hall, followed swiftly by a tremendous shake of the ground. Vases toppled, people fell, and sprawled against the marble floor lay still – expecting, hoping and praying to their gods. Time seemed to crawl interminably slowly as the quake held tight its’ grip on Mensinus. The maps he was studying had flown across the floor into small groups. More chaos beyond the grand doors, those outside (caught, he supposed, in a more serious predicament) were screaming and wailing their torment to any who would listen. The doors to the Hall swung open and an excitable youth brushed past the scholars on the corridor, papers flying in all directions. “Flee. The city is burning, all is lost.” Mensinus raised himself carefully, steadying himself on the table, his heart pounding a tattoo of fear through his entire body. His dream was fulfilling itself.

A sound not unlike thunder took hold in the distance, and the building around him shook more violently than before, great cracks appearing in the granite where faults lay hidden deep within the stonework. It took all his composure to descend the stairs to the ground level, eyes blinking through the sweat of fear – Mensinus’ nightmare enveloping him once more, the horror of untold fears now weighty on the soul. His hands shaking, grasping at the walls as he made his way, one foot unsteadily placed in front of the other, to the reassuring firmness of the street. The sight which greeted him was one of complete disarray. Houses had toppled in on themselves, caged animals had broken free and scattered to the reaches, the elements of civilization had been thrown into tumult.

“Save us. Oh great ones…” Mensinus sank to his knees, “Save us.”

A great cacophony drew his attention to the far shore. The city’s merchant fleet, believed by the to be the greatest and most advanced in the world, had been dashed against rocks as if nothing more than the playthings of children. The scattered timbers looked so small from such a distance that Mensinus couldn’t tell if the sailors had been able to flee for their lives in the disaster. On land also, the tragedy had entangled citizenry in the hitherto unbelievable – the end of all that was. Flames licked the skyline in long, flickering trails, its’ errant embers falling from the inferno to engulf more in the chaos.

As if through a blanket of heat, Mensinus could see someone approaching. Not running, nor perturbed by the encircling flames, but calm and composed – striding forth through the madness as if unconnected to it all, the thin golden-bearded figure remained a focus of intensity. Mensinus held his hands out, “Can you save us, I beg of you?”
“From the fires of hell there is no salvation. But this I speak – there is time enough to flee, for the seas remain open, and far we must spread.” The stranger held out a hand. “Come with me and we will voyage forth.”
“My maps. I must retrieve my maps, for the entirety of lands are documented within them. The world has been charted and is known. They must be saved”
The stranger nodded.

With maps tucked under each arm Mensinus rushed to the shore, through the falling, burning logs and scattered masonry of dashed buildings, to find vessels spared the earlier destruction. The stranger stood proudly upon the bow of the elegant craft, unfazed by the movement of so many peoples from their homes.
He turned as Mensinus boarded. “We must depart quickly, for our time on these shores has come to an end. The heavens will soon shift against our favor.”
Mensinus nodded, “We will make haste for the pillars of Heracles, and on to Athens.”
“Very well.” The bearded man spoke softly, carefully, his eyes focused on things not readily apparent.
The ship broke free of its ropes, and the scattering of the remaining peoples took place. Some by fishing vessels, others by grand sloughs, and a handful of hearty souls dared all in one-man canoes better suited to the inner rivers.

A full day passed on the open sea, and an eerie quietness had overtaken the ship. Mensinus felt the dream heavily upon his heart again, the burnt red skies on the farthest skies – his homeland gone. The stars above him the only constant. The skies… Staring at the firmament he was possessed of the belief that he had witnessed the heavens move in sympathy with his predicament. Then sure enough, again. A prayer fell from his lips as night slipped dramatically and suddenly into day, the sea beneath him wrought with fury, and he knew – deep within his heart – that the city would never burn again. It would be forever frozen as is, eternally held in its’ final moments.
________________________________________________

Sometimes the ideas which come to me are slow in forming, taking shape only after extensive thought has been expended on nurturing the concept to fruition, though at other times I am compelled by some strange force and manage to wade through the normally difficult elements of story craft. This particular piece is of the latter description, and is something of an accompaniment to the numerous fire-based flash pieces which AWers have been posting…

There’s a couple of healthy genius bonuses if you are at all familiar with the alternative history books of recent years.