[Spiridon_Deannis]

Ok, here is the next text from SE. And darn, it´s long...;0)


53. StevenErikson
Tuesday October 12, 2010 11:25am EDT
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Hello all, round two here. I promised to get to some specific questions posted above, which I will, though I may drift here and there into other subjects if the mood takes me. Waiting for lunch here at the Mango Tango; listened to Dylan's 'Can't Wait' followed now by Nick Cave's 'O Children' (the live version). Before Dylan it was Bruce Cockburn's 'When You Give It Away,' which marks the start of this compilation of faves.

Calamari's arrived. Give me a few minutes ... twenty miles outside of town, in cold irons bounds. The best utterance of the word 'die' in any song I have ever heard.

Germy Blake: I am not familiar with Suter's Two Journeys; can you enlighten me? (sure, I could google it, but I'd rather your take on it and how it might relate to my stuff)

Robin 55077: The poems always precede the chapters. If they shape the content of the following chapter, it's not conscious on my part, though I have faith that thematic threads slip into the weave. I write in a very linear fashion: no cut and paste at all. It's written how you see it: I don't recall ever moving anything in the text. Thinking on it, that's probably unusual. But bear in mind that I am always mindful of storytelling as a tradition and so I hold to it, as if the technology permitting me to do otherwise did not exist. Feels more organic, I suppose. I sometimes suspect that those writers who do the massive cut and paste are in fact disengaging their own storytelling talents, and maybe even 'cheating' in some respects. The challenge (in my opinion) comes with not simply trying out pieces to make up the puzzle, but in making every move, with every peice, a singular event. Not sure if I'm explaining this very well. Picture assembling a puzzle, but not testing a single piece; rather, every piece you pick up turns out to be the right one for the space. Making all the preliminary work internal, in your own head. To sit back and watch someone actually doing that would be bizarre, possibly even frightening. But the analogy actually breaks down a bit, given more thought, since fiction allows for some flexibility in making those pieces fit.

It may well be that, as one poster here notes again and again, some pieces don't quite fit. But I keep looking at the big picture, and I guess a part of me doesn't really care if I needed a hammer every now and then.

Shalter: I adored the Dread Empire series (I even wrote an introduction for one of the compiled volumes Night Shade Books did), and if I understand it, Glen has agreed to write the final chapter of that tale (he had one, but lost it).

Larkask: real-life influences on the Daru culture ... no, not really, apart from a desire to create a complex, longlived city and culture. Succession of populations in a single city are well-known phenomenon in our own world, where an indigenous population is partially supplanted by another. The history of India and its extraordinary genetic layering is a good example (with lines going back to the first successful exodus from Africa).

RobMRobM: We left open the effects of longterm exposure to Otataral; as for Adjunct Lorn and her abilities as a fighter, I am reminded of my experiences years ago when fencing competitively. There was a young fencer in the club, son of the coach (this was in Victoria), who likely had little choice in his choice of sport. I remember how he was not committed for years: though one could see and admire his technical prowess, he was just wasn't into it. And then one day he caught fire; started having fun, and all those years of desultory training suddenly fell into place. To this day I can watch him fence and feel nothing but admiration (Ollie, you reading this?) at his skill and his grace.

Anyone who has fenced will know just how fast it can be: in all the fight sequences I write, I keep in mind that most of these fighters had a weapon in their hand from a very early age. If gifted with other talents and fitness, they will be lightning fast.

Alt146: I touched on your question in the first post. You also ask if there were any scenes or narrative thoughts that came about through something experienced between the writing of Gardens and Deadhouse Gates. I don't doubt that there were. Gardens, don't forget, was partially gamed and then made into a feature film script. I felt a loyalty to recounting events, with considerable elaboration here and there. But, for example, I probably had fresh in my mind the blast we had playing out the Fete at Simtal's Estate, right down to me (as Kruppe, replete with pastry-smeared cherub mask) marching straight up to Rake (whom Cam had taken over as an npc for that session) for an outrageous encounter. And I remember rolling the dice as Rallick when facing Turban Orr (and if I would have then messed up, we would have played it through honestly, and that scene in Gardens would probably be quite different). So there was reminiscence and joy in the writing of Gardens of the Moon.

Between the two novels ... well, with Deadhouse Gates I was creating a fresh story, not gamed, while making use of a setting made familiar by other campaigns played out there (Kellanved and Dancer's conquest of Seven Cities, etc). But the plot and most of the characters came pretty much from my own head.

In another sense, I was now able to create with great deliberation, shaping events precisely how I wanted them shaped. I've mentioned elsewhere that I 'rolled up my sleeves' when it came to Deadhouse Gates. Gardens had set the stage, in terms of the world and its atmosphere, and did much of the groundwork on the kind of characters this world produced. So the foundations were set: now I wanted to see just what I could build on them.

I wrote Deadhouse on a Psion MX5, which was about the size of a contemporary mobile phone at the time; but it had a monochrome six-inch screen and a full keyboard, worked on two double A batteries that gave me thirty (!) hours of work-time. Conversion to PC was via a Flash Disk and a rather clunky program. I still have the damned thing. Something about that Psion, with its small screen giving me maybe five lines of tiny text at any one time, seemed to crunch things down. Though my eyes suffered, I loved writing on that thing (the company was subsequently bought by Ericsson, presumably to elminate the technology as competition; and now cell phones are filling the niche, but not well enough in my opinion -- I want a phone I can write a damned novel on. No, really).

Thomstel: check out my essay on rpg's. But for a sense of the kind of campaign I ran, Book One of House of Chains was one such campaign, start to finish; but I played that one out with a friend named Mark Paxton-MaCrae (HoC was dedicated to him) who rolled up Karsa as a character). Later on , Rhulad's tragic story line was played out as well, with Cam playing that character. You think I'm cruel in these novels? See me running a game.

Pnr060: still sitting on my ideas about a film version of all this: besides, it's too outlandish to actually relate here, anyway.

Taitastigon: I am sure there were flim influences: I have always written visually, as if filming inside my head, even making use of slow motion when necessary (fight sequences). But to actually list all the films that most affected me, would take pages and pages.

If I read Hodgell and it influenced me, it's so far down in my subconsciousness I could never hope to find it. I've forgotten so much of what I once read, back in my teens.

I've seen Glorious Basterds, but admittedly it garnered little more than a shrug from me. Wish-fulfilment stuff only goes so far, and for me not far enough, as it implies a certain beginning stance of moral rightenousness (granted, not hard when it comes to Hitler and the Nazi's, so that was safe enough, I mean, who wouldn't want to fill the shits full of lead [unless you, uhm, are into re-enactments?] ...). Anyway, I actually had to google Hans Landa to get your reference. Banal evil is probably the most chilling kind of all: is Bauchelain worse? Korbal Broach? But isn't that whole point of these two characters of mine? They have good reasons for every evil act they commit. But then, most people do. Don't they?

The B&KB novellas allow me to run wild, but at the same time I have no answers on evil, nor do I have any sense of a sliding scale at work here. The stories contrast obvious evil with forms of evil not so obvious. Bauchelain provides the dialogue between the two. Emancipor Reese is appalled no matter which way he turns (and that's probably me, right there, in his wide-eyed, aghast regard). At the same time, it's good for a laff, innit?

Anomandarispurake: I'm not sure if it's possible to 'plan' characters between two people ... well, I suppose it is, come to think of it, since co-writing scripts demands just that. The gaming allowed each of us to talk out characters, and then provided events that in turn further shaped them. But at the end, it's down to the writer taking that character on board and representing him or her.

Cam and I will discuss characters we both use, and when we take up a character we know was played out by the other, we tread carefully indeed, and often with some trepidation. Yet, interestingly, I for example think that Cam's take on Rallick or Manask is actually better than my game-played versions. Go figure. I suppose, here, it comes down to mutual trust, and we have plenty of that.

Shalter: how much world background exists in tangible form? Plenty, but probably both more and less than I think. Loads of maps, a few character sheets kept for posterity, name lists, and rough outlines of campaigned games. On the novel-writing side, I admit I pity the poor person who ever attempts to tackle that. I am not an organized creature, alas. Boxes and boxes, papers and dead insects from three continents....

Ganoesail: oddly enough, I can give you an answer on my favourite character. Tavore. And just the thought of her brings water to my eyes -- you'll know why, I hope, come the release of The Crippled God.

Tektonica: if you hung out at The Bush '89 and '90 then we might well have shared one of those long tables. What I remember of the poets in the program was that they whupped our ass playing baseball. You ask about non-anthropological/ archaeological influences; as in philosophy, etc. Sure, plenty; I've always been interested in epistemology, metaphysics, etc. I even went through a Rand phase in my early twenties, before discovering just what a mess she made of her personal life, which led me to question her, uh, contradictory assumptions. Everybody should read The Fountainhead (though We the Living is a better novel), play with the notions a bit, and then dump them as inhuman and inhumane.

Ezzkmo: (uh, would rather you not use that name, even in that form, as it is derogatory) the influence of arch and anth in my stuff (and Cam's, and in the shaping of the world of the novels) is something I've touched on and discussed many times. Someone here should be able to point you to one of those old links...

Cathp: how do I keep track? Do I take notes? Sure, though then I often lose them or end up going through page after page trying to find the detail I want. But we can go back to the puzzle analogy: I start with the completed puzzle; then I take out a piece, study it, describe it, and then move on to the next one.

Stormy7: was the whole series plotted out? Yes, in broad strokes with specific elements noted. This should be really apparent with The Crippled God. Look for echoes, folks, of much earlier scenes. Lots of them.

jgtheok: again, thanks for the great line in your question. Mutualism ... sure, that is central to this envisioning. I remember I lecture I sat through once from some Classics prof, talking about the relationship between the ancient Greeks and their gods, not just the pantheon on Olympus but also the chthonic deities or hearth and home; how the latter involved a more humanist compassion, while the former -- through all the tales -- seemed to impose a fiercer, more fickle kind of justice, yet rife with all the frailties and flaws of mortal humans. As you can see, that lecture has clearly stayed with me. I recall launching in to every book I could find touching on that subject, over the years, ranging from The Golden Bough to Iron John (and for all you men and young men out there, boy do I recommend reading Iron John -- I am actually revisiting it right now to prepare for the next series).

Now, obviously, I didn't just transplant the Greek pagan religion over to the Malazan world; and I don't recall Cam and I actually sitting down to hammer things out at that level; but things emerge organically if at all, and the notion of mutualism wound its way in there, perhaps more from a Christian source than any other, only extended further; and, I'm sure, some Eastern religions edged in, too, along with the more psychotic pre-columbian cults of the Aztecs, Mayans and Incans (will I take a hit on calling them psychotic? Probably, from the relativists, but in this instance I am firmly not in the camp of Jospeh Campbell). There's an argument presented, I think it's in deadhouse gates, that starts a chapter, that probably best describes the 'argument' I am presenting, when it comes to mutualism and its relationship to responsibility; and if there is a point in that, it's that it often seems as if we humans expect favour even when we've done nothing to warrant it. We raise up high our triumphs while turning our back on our most egregious failures.

Anyway, I'm not a scholar of these matters: I only feed on ideas and regurgitate them, mangled and often unrecognisable, in my storytelling.

lord barger: there is an encyclopedia planned, can't say when, though.

Abelieno: regarding autopoiesis, it's curious, isn't it, how subparticle physics seem to be heading to the same post(?) quantum conclusions (or, at least, observations, which it turns out not only precedes conclusions but defines them as well). You can see the semantic mess we can get into here.

Clearly, there are limits to self-creation ( I once tried telling myself I wasn't losing my hair -- see where that got me). The other angle to take, probably a simpler one, is with the idea of sympathetic magic, and while even there we could go back to physics, let's not. The quote of mine you used regarding the disassembling of a scene into its components, referencing Spencer-Brown, applies as much to the act of writing as it does to language itself. If you stay with the latter, the subject becomes stale for its pointless objectivity; bring it into writing as communication, and things start getting interesting, because the imagination is fired and speculation is invited. And that's where I prefer to leave it, on its own but forever fertile.

Karsa_Orlong: 'time' in warrens. Yes, its flexible, though as I once pointed out to an old friend, when discussing (cringe) timelines, if one removes the dates certain problems go away (barely passed maths, you know); and if one resists compressing events then many other problems also go away. It all worked in my head, more or less, and when I related that sense to him he amazed me by nodding and say 'you know, that kind of works...' But that was a coupld years ago now. Did I mess up since? Undoubtedly.

The warren the empire claims for itself is indeed the ruined world created by Kallor; but even there, nothing stays static. Places evolve, and sometimes one warren settles on another.

Ajsan: I hope I've answered your question about getting into the 'beat' of writing, with my descriptions of sitting down here to write these posts.

Fiddler: if I understand your question, you are wondering if your namesake's seat-of-the-pants approach to his readings of the Deck is in some way representative of the creative approach Cam and me employed in our gaming and creating this world. If so, the answer is yes. It wouldn't have been half the fun it was if we didn't leave things wide open to spontaneous creation. A GM needs to be flexible, and ready to run with the unexpected.

Abelieno: most of this list has been touched on elsewhere. As for the gunpowder tea, thanks for the recommendation, but this is Cornwall, mate. The only gunpowder in use here is for muskets during the badger cull (and let's face it, it's not the badgers need culling, it's the cows needing the room to breathe).

conspiracy theory: advice on creating a fictional world on your own ... don't overwork it. Leave blanks spaces on every map. Leave room for mystery and later invention; and pay attention to the relationships between peoples, cultures, civilizations, in a way that makes geographical sense. For what it's worth, I always start with a map. Always. And use as much geophysical and geographical knowledge as you can accrue: the history of a river's drainage pattern can give you the history of a whole city's life and death right there, and even that of a civilization. So, leave room for the world to breathe and grow -- you don't need it all in place before you start, and I'd advise that you shouldn't, because if you can't grow in that world (and into it), then neither can your story, or your characters.... best of luck, btw, and have fun with it above all else.

alt146: think I touched on your question earlier on. Did we ever fudge events in the game to suit the story? All the time. But not always. Believe it or not, the clash of two major characters in TtH was decided on a single roll of the die. If it had gone the other ... well, I shudder to think.

Champoon: glad you caught the bard quote in TtH: now refer back to my saying that novel was the series cipher.

Cheers for now!
SE

[aahz]

Cougar, on 10 September 2010 - 03:01 PM, said:

worrywort, on 07 September 2010 - 07:37 PM, said:

Your argument seems to be twofold -- that SE makes a lot of mistakes in terms of inconsistency, and that this stifles him from becoming a truly great author. I would say that the first has some merit but is exaggerated, and the second is an outdated premise proven wrong years ago with the publication of Deadhouse Gates, and then proven wrong again several times over.

No, that simply isn't true, you aren't proving anything wrong, you're just disagreeing with me. I believe firmly that his inability to write consistently will ultimately keep him from being recognised as a great author. If it doesn' then great, but it's not a premise you can prove wrong by writing any number of books with internal inconsistencies regardless of how great the story is. Also, exagerated? How so, I'd be pushed to think of someone who has such a flagrant disregard for timelines alone. Manfestly it doesn't bother him - he could have retconned things right, but he won't bother - I just think great authors have the ability to get these things right.

I can't point out all his mistakes in GotM here Abalieno - they are well documented and are spoilerific for this forum , but you know what they are, if you don't read it again.

I think that other things make an author great - yes, there are inconsistencies, especially between GotM and the other books, yes, there are some obvious for the reader mistakes. And yet, for the first time I'm truly confused who's good and bad, and reminded that sometimes good and bad are not just relative, but don't exist at all. SE manages to share a multitude of viewpoints and at the same time clearly state his own. Characters, concepts - all of this I consider hardly matched by anyone I've read. So maybe you should point out some great authors and then start a comparison. And before judging too harsh, how many other stories of great authors consist of ten books of 900 pages average (didn't really calculate that)?

Edit: Turns out I'm little late, didn't notice that in time, yet I still don't agree with Cougar.

This post has been edited by aahz: 11 November 2010 - 03:24 PM