Category: Uncategorized (Page 1 of 16)

I’d like to take a moment to talk about one of my hobbies. Not writing, which is my vocation. Not karate, which is a do. Not even gardening, since the only garden I have at the moment is a single basil plant due to landlord policy.

No, I have a hobby. I don’t expect it to ever make me any money, I don’t think I’m much good at it now and though I hack at it now and again, I don’t think I’m going to get much better at it. It’s just something I like to do because I find it fun.

So what is it? The Secret Vice. Or, rather, the Not-So-Secret Vice. I invent languages for fun.

(I used to put it “I make model languages in a bottle,” but let’s be honest, “The Secret Vice” sounds so much cooler.)

Right now I’m tinkering with a language family I collectively refer to as Rosoc (though, like Tolkien, I have a second, related subfamily, Lailesh). I’m still working on the Neolithic proto-Rosoc that births both languages. They’re built like Semitic languages, like Hebrew and Arabic, with triconsonental roots representing broad ideas (K-T-B in Arabic is everything to do with writing/books/bureaus/offices for example). These roots get conjugated/declined with different vowel combinations and then further modified with prefixes, affixes, and infixes, like more familiar Indo-European languages.

When I get to the writing system, I’m going to base it on the Chinese model, with radicals for basic ideas modified with phonemic elements. In written Chinese, some 90% of the hanzi are made up of these two elements together: the radical to tell you what the word is about, the phonetic to tell you what it sounds like. Marrying the Semitic radicals to the Chinese radicals was, in fact, the inspiration for this whole project.

But right now, I’m having fun adding words to the lexicon (and getting some inventive derivations – the word for “playing together” is “puppy-ing” for example), working out a grammar, and, of course, translations. I worked up some proverbs and maxims and have translated these, though I fully expect these translations to be obsolete as Proto-Rosoc becomes more finished.

---

Edgānāmhe dő-tūkhab edgirlab dő-řūmh’bab.

edgānā-	mhe	dő-	tūkh	e	edgirl	ab	dő-	řūmh’b	ab
əd̪gæɳæ	mʰə	d̪ʌɳ	t̪ɯkʰ	ə	əd̪giɾ̼l̪	ab	d̪ʌɳ	ɹɯmʰb	ab
feast.MASC.ERG	-PL	GEN-	-husband.GEN-	-MASC.SING	peace.ABS-	-FEM.SING	GEN-	-generation.GEN-	-FEM.SING

“A wedding feast is peace for a generation.”

Rirpīmhe aqh’mā īřqa!-simu rirbab.

rirpī	mhe	aqh’mā	īřqa!	simu	rirb	ab
ɾ̼iɾ̼py	mʰə	aðʰmæ	yɹðaʔ	simU	ɾ̼iɾ̼b	ab
wolf.MASC.ABS-	-PL	kill.PERF.STAT	roast.DYN.IMP-	-3.MASC.PL	dog.ABS-	-FEM.SING

“When the wolves have all been eaten, (you must) cook the hunting dogs.”

Izsū-sitmu hāninī aphīďū-mab rirmab.

izsū	sitmu	hāninī	aphīďū	mab	rirmab
iszɯ	sit̪mU	hæɳiɳy	apʰydɯ	mab	ɾ̼iɾ̼mab
follow.IMPF.DYN-	-3.MASC.DU.ERG	hand.DU.ERG	lead.PERF.DYN	-3.FEM.PL.ABS	heart.FEM.SING.ABS

“Hands follow heart.” (more poetic: “The hands must start following when the heart starts to lead.”)

Mhalabmhe dő-sūxlemhe awīhū mhalabmhe dő-shūpab, mhalabmhe dő-shūpabmhe awīhū mhalabmhe dő-sūxlemhe

mhālabmhe	mhe	dő-	sūxle	mhe	awīhū	mhalab	mhe	dő-	shūpab	mhe
mʰæl̪ab	mʰə	d̪ʌɳ	sɯθl̪e	mʰə	awyhɯ	mʰal̪ab	mʰə	d̪ʌɳ	sʰɯpab	mʰə
sea.FEM-	-PL	GEN-	water.GEN	-PL	seasonal change.DYN.IND.PERF	sea.FEM-	-PL	GEN-	grassland.PL	-PL

mhalab	mhe	dő-	shūpab	mhe	awīhū	mhalab	mhe	dő-	sūxle	mhe
mʰæl̪ab	mʰə	d̪ʌɳ	sʰɯpab	mʰə	awyhɯ	mʰal̪ab	mʰə	d̪ʌɳ	sɯθl̪e	mʰə
sea.FEM-	-PL	GEN-	grassland.PL	-PL	seasonal change.DYN.IND.PERF	sea.FEM-	-PL	GEN-	water.GEN	-PL

“Seas of grass to seas of water and back again”

---

I haven’t got around to translating these, but I will. Until then, enjoy these nuggets of Stone Age wisdom:

“Don’t pick it today, it will bear fruit tomorrow, and you can eat it then.”

“When walking, keep your feet on the ground.”

“Tell a lie, then tell the truth, it will be called a lie.”

“Sitting and watching will reveal the wild boar’s tricks.”

“The fish cannot reject the water.”

“It is better to hunger than to steal.”

“He who respects you, respects your stomach, too.”

“The wise child speaks idiom, not plain words.”

“Help today returned threefold tomorrow.”

“The acorn grows to the mighty oak.”

“The yam does not seek to become an oak.”

“Keep low in the grass.” (originally a hunting maxim, later an egalitarian one)

“A pack is a tribe’s best friend.”

“The dog makes the man.”

“A rolling stone gathers no moss.”

“Learned till old, lived till old, still 3/4 is not learned.”

“Proverbs fill the heart like meat fills the belly.”

“A talk without proverbs is like a stew without garlic.”

“Do not season another’s heart with proverbs when their heart tastes bitterness.”

“Many hands make light work”/”Too many cooks spoil the stew.”

“A word to the wise is enough.”/”Talk is cheap.”/”Proverbs separate the wise from the ignorant.”

Today’s guest is Aimee Kuzenski. Aimee is a speculative fiction author and practitioner of Filipino martial arts. In the wider speculative fiction community, she is a graduate of Viable Paradise, a board member with the 4th Street Fantasy convention, and you can find her short fiction online at Translunar Travelers Lounge.

Tell us more about your book/ series/ short story work.

SEEDS OF INHERITANCE is basically THE TRAITOR BARU CORMORANT crossed with DUNE, with living FTL treeships. It’s a space fantasy centered around a woman called Berenike, who lost most of her family when she lost the revolution, who has looked to her daughter to complete what she couldn’t. But when the daughter refuses, she refuses to give up even then. Her choices aren’t pretty, but they make for a great story.

Why do you write speculative fiction?

Speculative fiction is written on my bones, from an early age. In elementary school, I read stories about magical horses. I read the cover off a volume of Greek mythology. I tore through every sci-fi and fantasy novel in every library I came across. Speculative fiction is what gets my blood going, and even if I ever wrote something like a mystery or memoir, it would have a speculative element in it.

Where do you find inspiration for your stories?

All over the place – the books I read, the strange facts I run across, the twisted combinations of fact and fiction that I come up with while I’m doing something boring. Once in a while, I’ll mine a dream for vibes.

What is your favorite sci-fi, fantasy, or horror trope?

Oh that’s a fun one. My favorite tropes are probably FTL and ansibles. As we understand the universe, neither is possible, but they make so many stories possible.

What is your favorite speculative fiction book (besides yours)?

Palimpsest by Catherynne Valente. I read that book in a fever dream. The language is so gorgeous, the characters so real. Valente’s work just hits every single note for me – I dream about her cities and it’s like coming home to a place I never knew existed.

I remember that book – it felt like a fever dream all by itself. I love Valente’s prose.

What is the best story you’ve written?

If we’re talking short fiction, I’m proudest of “Fractured“, which appeared in Translunar Traveler’s Lounge. It’s about a medic on a space ship who received a terrible injury and has to figure out who they are afterward.

If we’re talking about my favorite novel, it’s definitely SEEDS OF INHERITANCE. It’s the best book I’ve written, and I love it with my whole heart.

What is the world you long to see?

Justice can be cold, but it’s what I most want to see in a world, including ours. Justice in terms of bringing wrongs to light, but also in terms of equality of rights and opportunities. It’s why a lot of what I write has a strong political theme. I’m passionate about it.

How do you apply your skills in Filipino Martial Arts to your work?

A martial arts practice develops a lot of awareness of one’s body, how it moves, how it feels to do things. I try to bring that awareness throughout anything I write. But my most favorite scenes to write are fight scenes. Knife fighting is my personal favorite, but FMA teaches you techniques that can be used with any weapon – or no weapon. I love choreographing fights and keeping them as real as possible. I tend not to write anything Errol Flynn would have performed; my fights are much closer to the hallway fight in Daredevil. Brutal, exhausting, and as real as possible.

I hear you about the body awareness. It’s never really expressable in mere language…but that doesn’t stop us from trying.

Bonus question: Novels or short stories? Which do you prefer to read? Which do you prefer to write?

Novels, no question. My personal writing rhythms are all set up for 100k words or more – I’m amazed that I managed to sell anything short. It’s partially due to the fact that I mostly read novels. I love the depth of character and worldbuilding you can get with that much space.

Thank you, Aimee Kuzenski, for your time!

---

You can find Aimee at her website, and find her novel Seeds of Inheritance wherever better books are sold.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky,
The larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John Macrae

Remembering Armistice Day…and may there be an armistice all over the Earth next Armistice Day.

A few weeks back on Twitter, in the great quiet of year’s end, the writerly discourse turned to the demographics of fantasy protagonists. Most of them are in their early 20s, same for science fiction, and at least a few of us would like to see some older protagonists, in the fullness or twilight of life, so they can share in the grand imaginative adventures, too.

I pointed out, at the time, part of the problem is structural. “It’s easier,” I said, “to write Luke Skywalker leaving the farm than Uncle Owen.” Indeed, a few dead parents, a  bildungsroman call, and your youthful protagonist is out on the road to adventure (whether the hyperlanes outward or some imaginative quest inward). It’s harder to disentangle a middle-aged protagonist from their mortgage, their children, their established career, their set habits. The usual ways of ‘freeing’ such characters from their bonds, like fridging, are generally considered hack and in bad taste.

Twitter, of course, moved on to the next sexy Discourse like a throwaway line in a Barenaked Ladies song. But I kept thinking about it, and brought it up to a few of my slower-paced communities, and we discussed the elders’ equivalents of the bildungsroman and the Call to Adventure – ways to get our older protagonists out on the way to their own fantasies and science fictions. This list is by no means comprehensive, but a few ideas to get us all started.

Ebenezer Scrooge

An older person has a lot more time to get stuck in their ways than a young person does. Indeed, part of the appeal of a younger protagonist is seeing what ways they’ll get started on, what habits and ideals they’ll choose. The appeal of an Ebenezer Scrooge is watching them change their ways, usually for the better, before it’s too late. The Ghost of Christmas-Yet-To-Come must loom large here, the ultimate ‘too late’ to change before, for our putative Scrooge to realize what looms just before them. Whether your Scrooge is visited by three literal ghosts or not, they’re stuck in their ways and must be dislodged from them, forced to mend the habits and attitudes that have served them so well for so long and now trap them. Before it’s too late.

James Bond

This is the man (or woman, or enby) who spent A Bad War, and has no place in the peace that has settled since. They were probably on the winning side, but they never won the peace. Theirs is a thousand yard stare, an affected disaffection, and a host of terrible coping strategies. The literary James Bond is a fragile creature, an object of some pity to the people around him, a man a bit out of his time. His quest is to come to terms with what he’s seen and done in the horrors of the war (whatever war, however metaphorical, it was), whether that’s clinically aided by a therapist’s office, or tying up loose ends, or coming to a (quasi-)religious epiphany that yes, he can live with it,

…but that’s not his real work, now, is it? His real work is coming to grips with the peace, the world made in the shadow of the old war, where poppies grow and children play where the horrors were. The world here now and the world to come, born of the world he knew and can’t reconcile. That is the master-work, the relationship to his anima to the war’s relationship to his shadow.

My friend Michael Martin noted a variation, the Jason Bourne, an older figure who’s been carrying on a personal vendetta so long the world has moved on without them and trying to settle it long after settling it was of any good to anyone.

Martin Bishop (Michael Martin)

This is pretty much every role Robert Redford played after 1980, but I single out Martin Bishop of Sneakers. He is the mentor to a new generation, but this is his story, tying up the loose ends he left behind from his youth. He needs to resolve them, or fail to do so, while handing the reins to the next generation. This is Indiana Jones in Crystal Skull, however ineptly that story was handled: reconciling to Marion, finishing Oxley’s work as Oxley has long descended into madness, inducting his son into the ways of archaeology, coming to terms with the fact that his father and his friends are gone, and he will soon follow. It’s every damn thing a Martin Bishop has to cope with, all at once. Pick one, or at most, two of those, and let your own Obi-Wan tell his story and go into his own double-sunset.

Jake and Elwood Blues

We all remember this one from every heist caper from 1980 to Ocean’s 13.

He needs to come out of retirement for One Last Job, and, usually in the course of it, Get The Band Back Together.

This elder’s adventuring career is long behind them, but their current reduced circumstances or beaten-down moral compass demands they come do just one more before they fade into a comfortable, yet irrelevant, retirement. Whether it’s putting down the last of the old evil (or its attempted imitators, because the kids Don’t Understand), boosting the biggest score of their career, or putting on one last show to save the orphanage where they grew up, this is the last job, and meeting (or recruiting) the people they lost contact with, left behind, who changed in the years since, is a key component, facing our elder with how different the world has become without them.

John Perry

“On his 75^th birthday, John Perry did two things. First, he visited his wife’s grave. Then, he joined the army.”

Old Man’s War, John Scalzi

Their partner is gone. For some, their career. But a huge part of their life, something that gave them meaning and cadre and comfort, is gone. Like the Scrooge, they must change. Unlike Scrooge, the change has come upon them, and now they must wrestle with a life already changed, rather than drift toward a certain fate.

I personally don’t much care if they find a new love, or come to terms with the pain of widowhood, or go join the army. Let them find something. Let them grow meaning back from the tender place where there used to be someone, something. Let them grow and change into something new.

The examples I’ve given are men, mainly white. That’s because the archetypes and examples I know are from another age, an age dominated by men, mainly white. I hope with some applicability, better writers than myself can use them as a springboard for stories about their own identities, or about Others than themselves. There is no reason for Scrooge to be Episcopal or Bond to be male, or for their stories to follow well-trodden Campbellian paths.

I offer these as ideas and places to start, a list intentionally incomplete, a page left half-written, for others to finish and to build on.

Now then, let me get back to my submissions to Gargantua, where somehow all these figures have sprung up at once…

That’s right, two of my classic stories are available for free, for réveillon de Noël and for Noël (24/25 dec) only! Don’t wait for Boxing Day to collect your gifts from me. 🙂

It’s 2100.
English is China’s only language.
Christmas is its biggest holiday.
And Ying Wen has to find a present for his mother…

A simple little story of a China that still could be, and a Christmas that might just already be here in some countries…

I can’t remember the first time I met myself, but I’ve passed along the story to my younger self when it came to be my turn. I do remember the year I decided to come home every Christmas. I was ten years old, and my parents were away at the office Christmas party, and Nina was downstairs watching TV. I was feeling lonely, as it was Christmas Eve and every other year we’d all have been putting presents under the tree and dropping hints about the contents by now.

That’s when I walk in.

The Christmas tale of a young man haunted by his own holiday traditions.

Ethan’s parents have left him in the house on the eve of his tenth Christmas, with nobody but Nina the babysitter for company. But Ethan has a secret – he can time travel, and every year for the rest of his life, he returns to this night to have a party. Every year, though, it’s always the same – the insecurity, the stupid mistakes, the arguments. But this year might be a better Christmas…maybe….

It’s over 6000 words of unexpected Christmas angles. Joyeux Noël et bon Nouvel’An!

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

I’ve been coping with a swollen jaw since last Thursday and the pain, while low, has been a constant in my sleeping and waking life since then. I look forward to a proper update next week, I have three or four started. Until then, read short fiction, imagine stranger futures, and enjoy this picture of my roommate.