The Martian: A review

So, I must admit I am apparently the only person — at least on this planet — who hasn’t seen The Martian on the big screen, but I’ve finally jumped on the bandwagon and read the book.* (A nice review of the movie by Melinda Snodgrass is here. She reviews the movie and book and includes some of George R.R. Martin’s commentary about book/movie adaptation. I’ve written some about book/movie adaptation in a review of Sideways.)

Like most readers, I loved book. It’s the kind of SF I think even Sad Puppies might enjoy, given it has space ships and white guys sciencing the shit out of stuff. It does, I suppose hearken back to classic SF — whatever that is.

But, its appeal is Mark Watney’s voice and the gallows humor Andy Weir has bestowed on Watney’s character. (It almost seems as if Weir had Matt Damon in mind as he was developing Watney’s voice. Of course, that could simply be the hazard of reading a novel when a movie is out that makes the voice sound like Damon’s. Or could it be Matt Damon lives inside my head?)

The book also serves as a really good study of keeping the tension flowing in a story, although there are moments when you want Weir to let up a little, and maybe let someone have a picnic at a peaceful beach or something.

For a non-science guy like me, the science in it is readable and I have to commend Weir on that. Given he has a science background — computer science — I’m pretty sure he knows how to science the shit out of stuff, or at least research enough to make the science sound plausible. The science even got Neil deGrasse Tyson approval, and that’s no small feat.

So, read the book. It’s good fun. And eventually, I will launch out at some point to see the movie.

— Todd

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*Editor’s note: I hope you will consider buying the book through this Amazon link. While I don’t want to be too agressive of a marketer, I would also like to monetize this blog a little. Thanks for your support.

 

Creating Short Fiction


In rereading Damon Knight’s Creating Short Fiction: The Classic Guide to Writing Short Fiction, he provides one of his annotated short stories, “Semper Fi,” for study. In the annotations, Knight mentions his third paragraph marks the moment where the action really begins in the story.

Is this a pretty good measure of when to begin action in the short story, or is it just another arbitrary point in a story?

How soon in a story should the action begin?

Asimov’s, August 2015

In between reading the books stacked on my to-read pile, I like to catch up with magazines, especially short fiction to study and absorb as a writer myself. One of my favorites is Asimov’s Science Fiction, and I just finished the August 2015 issue.Asimovs-Science-Fiction-August-2015

One of the things in this issue that caught my attention was James Patrick Kelly‘s regular “On the Net” column in which he writes about the joys of getting your first acceptance, noting how he had run across a post by new writer Kelly Robson, “who announced that she had sold her first story to this magazine.” His piece is one of those that gives hope, as well as insight, to all of new writers waiting to do happy dances for first or second or fifth acceptances from Asimov’s or any other magazine willing to take your fiction.

That piece talks about the importance of market analysis, reading the stories and persistence, the faith writers have through hard work their stories will get accepted. I would say it’s a must-read piece for new writers.

As for newbie Kelly Robson’s story “Two-Year Man,” it’s definitely worthy of placement with such established writers as Kristine Kathryn Rusch, whose time travel story “The First Step” is a heart-wrencher about an absent father coming to terms with missing out on his son’s life.

Robson’s story is set in a near-future, Eastern-Europeanish-bleak Vienna and concerns itself with a couple picking out the best of thrown away children and hoping to keep their relationship together.

Review: The Flicker Men by Ted Kosmatka

Until I read his The Flicker Men, I had only known of Ted Kosmatka through his short fiction in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction and Asimov’s. Now that I’ve read The Flicker Men, I’m glad I’ve met Ted in long form.

This SF-thriller drops faith and science into the pit with the now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t universe of quantum physics wherein a washed out scientist, Eric Argus, replicates a double-slit experiment that lights up some alternate realities and potentially threatens the universe. At the same time, the experiment gains the attention of nefarious forces that include a televangelist bent on using Argus’s work to prove souls exist and what I would say were pan-dimensional beings. These forces pursue Argus and attempt to destroy his work and him before the whole of reality runs completely amok, if it hasn’t already.

Kosmatka’s style — his driving short sentences — hammers narrative forward. And he’s such a crafty storyteller, he’s able blend a complicated field of science into the narrative without relying heavily on infodumps.