One of the muses finally spoke– I’m not sure which Muse has the portfolio for science fiction. Anyway, I suddenly have the plot for a new Incatena book.
Well, “plot” is too strong a word. “Predicament” maybe.
Morgan decides to quit the exciting but inconvenient life of an Agent, and on a whim decides to go back to Euko Teknik, in the α Centauri system, which is having a reunion for its alumni. The ex-Agent has changed sex (to whatever it wasn’t before) and had a half-mind-wipe in order to put diplomacy and espionage behind. But as we know, you can never really get away from the profession, especially in a spy novel. The boss activates some overrides in Morgan’s neurimplant. One more mission.
α Centauri, by the way, has the somewhat clunky traditional name Rigil Kentaurus. But it turns out to have the name Toliman too, and I’m considering using that. When you’re actually there, you probably don’t want to say “α Centauri A” every time you refer to the sun.
Anyway, the system contains two Incatena planets, Euko and Novorossiya, which have fought a few wars before. They have entirely different approaches and values. Euko is all about human or transhuman potential– they want to explore every possibility and rework humanity to match, and as Euko has no native ecosphere they can rework the planet too. Novorossiya is into embracing our primate heritage, recreating the ancestral environment in the planet’s mixed alien/earthly ecosphere, and keeping a small technological footprint. (With Incatena technology, you can make your planet look like a jungle if you want– neurimplants are invisible and the high-tech infrastructure is only visible when you need a piece of it.)
But they each have their own planet, so it was not obvious how to get them into a major conflict. Finally I thought of something: The α Centauri is a double system (triple with Proxima, but it’s very far away), and orbits within it may not be stable indefinitely. So let’s say the system is getting unstable– perhaps a passing brown dwarf has destabilized it… only it turns out neither planet wants to take action to fix it. Thus Morgan’s interrupted retirement.
Now, I haven’t actually written a word yet, and it’s in line after a couple of other books anyway, so the two or three of you who’ve read APAF will have to wait a bit. But at least now I have a situation and not just a setting…
I just read Shoplifter, a graphic novel by Michael Cho. I’m ambivalent about it: I like everything about it except the main story.
She may have stolen that cat
It’s about a young Korean-Canadian woman, Corinna, who works in advertising but has misgivings about it, especially when she’s asked to help market a perfume for nine-year-olds.
What I like most about it: the art. It’s printed in two colors, black and hot pink. I always like this choice, also seen in Ghost World and Fun Home; it clarifies otherwise black-and-white drawings without taking on full-color realism, which can be dull. Plus Cho often leaves out contour lines, which adds an elegant touch.
Also: there’s a story, it’s well paced, and punctuated by little art vistas and occasional jokes. (I liked the bit where there’s a live news account of a plane crash,which turns out to be less and less tragic as the report continues, with the screen crawl changing accordingly.) Corinna is cute and her problems are approachable.
What leaves a bad taste is the resolution of the story. Corinna realizes that she really wants to be a writer. So (SPOILER) she quits her job and, on the very last page, goes into a store to buy some writing notebooks. Oh come on, Mike.
When you’re a teenager you can get away with thinking “I’m a writer because I want to write.” By the time you’re in your 20s, you should amend that to “I’m a writer because I write.” By her own admission Corinna hasn’t written a thing but ad copy in five years. Aspiring creatives are warned, “Don’t quit the day job.” Corinna does so before she’s even done anything creative.
As Nick Hornby put it,
When I’m reading a novel, I have a need… to believe that the events described therein are definitive, that they really matter to the characters. In other words, if 1987 turned out to be a real bitch of a year for Winston Smith, then I don’t want to be wasting my time reading about what happened to him back in ’84.
The real story of Corinna is likely what happens after she makes her decision. Can she in fact write? How does she live while attempting to do it? Can she still afford the nice apartment she had as a copywriter? What does she write about? How does she make anyone care about her writing? (At least she’s Canadian, so she doesn’t have to worry about health care.)
(Why the title? Because Corinna is a minor shoplifter. It turns out that this is a symptom of the falseness of her life.)
It’s nice that Corinna has progressed in her self-actualization, but it’s bothersome that Cho is suggesting that the only thing standing in the way of an artistic career is the determination to get started. And the thing is, he knows this, because he’s published a couple of books himself and done a webcomic. “How I did this” is usually a better story than “How I decided to do it.”
Also— though this may possibly be intentional— I don’t find any of the characters completely likable. Corinna’s misgivings about ads comes off as a bit priggish… it’s perfectly understandable for an outsider, but she’s been doing this for five years, is this the first time she’s faced what advertising is like? Her boss hears about it and basically threatens to fire her, in a very smarmy and polite way. Yet she thanks him for the job at the end. Well, that’s wise— don’t burn your bridges— but it doesn’t make me like the guy.
But, eh, it’s a first novel and, like I said, very well done. And really fiction doesn’t have to give you good advice. The story captures the feeling of drifting through your 20s very well, even if it’s not very realistic about what the alternatives are.