(no subject)
Nov. 30th, 2006 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
megwritesI'm conflicted as to whether to continue on with the novel I was writing for NaNoWriMo. I hit the 50k mark a couple of days ago, so technically I won. However, the story isn't finished.
In theory, I like the story. I like the characters. I like that I know what the whole damn plot is supposed to be about. I like that I know how this novel is going to end with absolute certainty.
I just don't think it's marketable. I can't decide what nifty little genre it fits into.
Some part of me wonders if there are a million brilliant, wonderful stories lost each year because they aren't "marketable". I was looking at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
bookslut and it was noted that 94% of the most notable books of the year (according to the New York Times) were from conglomerate publishing. Huh.
On a whole other note, I finished Melusine by Sarah Monette the other day. So I figured it was worth it to write up a brief review.
Quick facts about the novel? Sort of high fantasy. Heavy on the sorcery, light on the sword - though. It's the story of Felix Harrowgate, a wizard in the city of Melusine at the royal court known as the Mirador and Mildmay the Fox, a thief who lives in the dirtier, lower parts of the city of Melusine and how their fates intertwine after Felix's evil former master rapes him and uses that to break the Virtu, magical object that holds the spells of the Mirador together. The breaking of the Virtu causes Felix to go mad and gradually draws Mildmay into the chain of events.
What I liked about the novel? Mildmay is a character that you can fall in love with from the first page. His narrative is inventive, sometimes funny, always honest, a little cut throat and told in the plain-speaking, almost uncomplaining voice of someone who's been hurt a lot but isn't whining about it. I liked that it could have two narrators and could still keep a cohesive story. I liked that the detail work on the worldbuilding was shiny and chrome-like, despite the fact that worldbuilding doesn't impress me much. I liked that the novel very much tried to be it's own novel and didn't, yanno, follow Tolkein around on a leash or anything. Always a plus with fantasy.
I like that the novel paced itself well up until the end. I stayed aware of what was going on. Especially with the lower city.
I especially loved the chase scene with Mildmay going over the roofs and this bit:
I took stock of my situation, real quick-like. The gargoyle was steady - nobody cut corners when they were doing stuff for Ver-Istenna. I edged my left foot a little farther onto the cornice, then braced my right foot against the wall and used the leverage to hook my right elbow over the gargoyle.
The fuckers on the roof gave me this snarky round of applause. (pg 26).
It pretty much cemented my love for Mildmay.
Mildmay's narrative is inventive in it's coziness and charm. Frankly, I wanted the entire novel to be all Mildmay all the time and just pretend like Felix didn't exist.
I also appreciated that there as open homosexuality included in the society without anyone feeling the need to suddenly give a four page explanation of why it's okay to be queer. I appreciate when anyone includes queerness in their universe, especially when they do it well.
Frankly, whenever a novel can equitably handle it's canon slash and it's canon het and do it such that I don't feel as though I'm supposed to deal with the boy-on-boy (Felix/Shannon) any different than the boy-on-girl (Mildmay/Ginevra), I want to give thanks.
For this and this alone, I will forgive a multitude of transgressions in a novel. Seriously.
As minor characters go, Mavortian and Bernard were the only two I could even keep straight. I liked them both pretty well, and even liked Bernard despite the fact that he hated Mildmay.
I also liked the descriptions and parts about the Lower City going into panic when the Virtu broke. Frankly, I wanted to stay with that story a lot longer. The Lower City is fascinating as a place, all by itself.
I also found myself wanting to know the stories behind everything, because the mythology of the place is utterly fascinating. I wanted to have Mildmay take me on a tour and tell me all the creepy wonderful bloody myths behind things. I wanted to hear the tales that the Lower City would tell me.
What tripped me up? I couldn't stand the character of Felix, and thus one half of the novel was absolutely tiresome to me. Felix has very few redeeming qualities. Not just as a person, but as a character. There's very little to make Felix interesting. He cries more than any other character in the whole of literature, he goes into histrionics at the slightest thing, and frankly his pain and suffering isn't interesting. He holds up a child he almost raped as mirror for his own pain. His abusive past rings hollow to me. Can't explain why, it just does.
Thing is this - tragedy comes from the loss of something good or valuable. Nothing Felix has or loses in the novel is good or valuable, so none of his misfortunes are tragedies.
He's also a gigantic pain in the ass to Mildmay, and won't repent of anything while poor Mildmay is suffering and confessing his sins. Even Felix's confession to Mildmay at the end of the book didn't mean anything. Okay, you told someone about your past. Big whoop.
Also, any character who starts out their narrative by describing light fixtures in great detail doesn't do much for me. If we did a quick tabulation, I bet the vast majority of Felix's sentences begin with "I" and are about his feelings - whereas Mildmay's are mostly about what he sees and what's going on around him. Very few times does Mildmay discuss his inner pain.
Thus, when Mildmay loses something, it's a tragedy.
The other thing that tripped me up was that the other characters in the novel were just bland beige to Mildmay and Felix with the exception of Mavortian and Bernard. Even the evil rapist villain didn't garner much interest from me. He sort of slinks off like a snake after biting.
There was a various, indistinguishable parade of prissy wizards from the Mirador who were deliberately made to be stupid when I didn't think it was necessary. There was Ginevra who's point in being in the novel has yet to occur to me.
The Mirador didn't really interest me that much. Not like the Lower City did. Probably because I don't really care about royal courts and high power political games in any genre. They look like big frouffy tea parties to me.
The naming of things bothered me a bit. There are some clear instances where things are invented names, and then there are instances where names are clearly derivative of historical cultures and that tends to throw me in novels, because if I see something that I clearly know is, say, Roman or French - then I wonder if we're in alternate universe on Earth or something and I want to know why in this fantasy city there's something clearly from *this* world hanging out.
There were Roman numerals used in one instance and I found myself saying, "Okay. We're using Roman numerals, but we've got a completely indecipherable calendrical system. How did we get the Roman system of numbers and not their calendar? Huh. And why is Mildmay telling a bunch of Russian sailors about the Germanic mythological character of Brunhilde?"
This is a personal quirk, though. It's attached to my reasons for being utterly unimpressed with worldbuilding, no matter how well done. Literarily, I can't find a justification for it being wrong. It was a minor distraction and didn't make me throw the book across the room or anything.
As is the fact that I kind of wish that Mildmay had said "fuck" a little less often. I get it, he's a thief, a low-class thief, and he isn't going to use polite speech. But there were some places where I thought that it wasn't all that necessary. Mildmay might not be at the highest social rung, but he is in no way stupid. He's quite clever and capable of thinking of something else.
Personal preference, though.
I also got mad at the ending because it was chopped off and not at all conclusive to the story. When you can read the preview of the sequel at the back of the book and it's like reading the same book, you know you got jipped. So somebody sold me a story I didn't get all of. It's kind of like I bought a slice of pizza without the crust. I can still enjoy the pizza, but I didn't get what I paid for.
Because the pizza maker obviously wants me to buy another two slices of pizza so I can get to the goddamn crust so the pizza maker is cutting them out of the center of the pizza like a crazy person.
I figure it like this: if you're going to run a scam like that, at least try to fool the people.
Final verdict - I give the novel E+ for Effort, and a B- overall. For all it's other sins, it's a damnably quick read and doesn't waste time. It tries to pull a triple lutz, and while it botched the landing, it tried. Gotta give credit there.
I would recommend this to friend, but I wouldn't put in the "why aren't you reading it right now!" category or anything. It'd make a good airplane book. It doesn't make me want to read any of it's sequels, but I would read more from this author. I like the way it's written, I like what it tries. So if I see another novel by this author that isn't in this 'verse, I'll pick it up.
But I am not suffering through two more books of Felix 'Woe Is Me' Harrowgate for anything, man. Not even for Mildmay and canon slash. Life is short.
In theory, I like the story. I like the characters. I like that I know what the whole damn plot is supposed to be about. I like that I know how this novel is going to end with absolute certainty.
I just don't think it's marketable. I can't decide what nifty little genre it fits into.
Some part of me wonders if there are a million brilliant, wonderful stories lost each year because they aren't "marketable". I was looking at
bookslut and it was noted that 94% of the most notable books of the year (according to the New York Times) were from conglomerate publishing. Huh.On a whole other note, I finished Melusine by Sarah Monette the other day. So I figured it was worth it to write up a brief review.
Quick facts about the novel? Sort of high fantasy. Heavy on the sorcery, light on the sword - though. It's the story of Felix Harrowgate, a wizard in the city of Melusine at the royal court known as the Mirador and Mildmay the Fox, a thief who lives in the dirtier, lower parts of the city of Melusine and how their fates intertwine after Felix's evil former master rapes him and uses that to break the Virtu, magical object that holds the spells of the Mirador together. The breaking of the Virtu causes Felix to go mad and gradually draws Mildmay into the chain of events.
What I liked about the novel? Mildmay is a character that you can fall in love with from the first page. His narrative is inventive, sometimes funny, always honest, a little cut throat and told in the plain-speaking, almost uncomplaining voice of someone who's been hurt a lot but isn't whining about it. I liked that it could have two narrators and could still keep a cohesive story. I liked that the detail work on the worldbuilding was shiny and chrome-like, despite the fact that worldbuilding doesn't impress me much. I liked that the novel very much tried to be it's own novel and didn't, yanno, follow Tolkein around on a leash or anything. Always a plus with fantasy.
I like that the novel paced itself well up until the end. I stayed aware of what was going on. Especially with the lower city.
I especially loved the chase scene with Mildmay going over the roofs and this bit:
I took stock of my situation, real quick-like. The gargoyle was steady - nobody cut corners when they were doing stuff for Ver-Istenna. I edged my left foot a little farther onto the cornice, then braced my right foot against the wall and used the leverage to hook my right elbow over the gargoyle.
The fuckers on the roof gave me this snarky round of applause. (pg 26).
It pretty much cemented my love for Mildmay.
Mildmay's narrative is inventive in it's coziness and charm. Frankly, I wanted the entire novel to be all Mildmay all the time and just pretend like Felix didn't exist.
I also appreciated that there as open homosexuality included in the society without anyone feeling the need to suddenly give a four page explanation of why it's okay to be queer. I appreciate when anyone includes queerness in their universe, especially when they do it well.
Frankly, whenever a novel can equitably handle it's canon slash and it's canon het and do it such that I don't feel as though I'm supposed to deal with the boy-on-boy (Felix/Shannon) any different than the boy-on-girl (Mildmay/Ginevra), I want to give thanks.
For this and this alone, I will forgive a multitude of transgressions in a novel. Seriously.
As minor characters go, Mavortian and Bernard were the only two I could even keep straight. I liked them both pretty well, and even liked Bernard despite the fact that he hated Mildmay.
I also liked the descriptions and parts about the Lower City going into panic when the Virtu broke. Frankly, I wanted to stay with that story a lot longer. The Lower City is fascinating as a place, all by itself.
I also found myself wanting to know the stories behind everything, because the mythology of the place is utterly fascinating. I wanted to have Mildmay take me on a tour and tell me all the creepy wonderful bloody myths behind things. I wanted to hear the tales that the Lower City would tell me.
What tripped me up? I couldn't stand the character of Felix, and thus one half of the novel was absolutely tiresome to me. Felix has very few redeeming qualities. Not just as a person, but as a character. There's very little to make Felix interesting. He cries more than any other character in the whole of literature, he goes into histrionics at the slightest thing, and frankly his pain and suffering isn't interesting. He holds up a child he almost raped as mirror for his own pain. His abusive past rings hollow to me. Can't explain why, it just does.
Thing is this - tragedy comes from the loss of something good or valuable. Nothing Felix has or loses in the novel is good or valuable, so none of his misfortunes are tragedies.
He's also a gigantic pain in the ass to Mildmay, and won't repent of anything while poor Mildmay is suffering and confessing his sins. Even Felix's confession to Mildmay at the end of the book didn't mean anything. Okay, you told someone about your past. Big whoop.
Also, any character who starts out their narrative by describing light fixtures in great detail doesn't do much for me. If we did a quick tabulation, I bet the vast majority of Felix's sentences begin with "I" and are about his feelings - whereas Mildmay's are mostly about what he sees and what's going on around him. Very few times does Mildmay discuss his inner pain.
Thus, when Mildmay loses something, it's a tragedy.
The other thing that tripped me up was that the other characters in the novel were just bland beige to Mildmay and Felix with the exception of Mavortian and Bernard. Even the evil rapist villain didn't garner much interest from me. He sort of slinks off like a snake after biting.
There was a various, indistinguishable parade of prissy wizards from the Mirador who were deliberately made to be stupid when I didn't think it was necessary. There was Ginevra who's point in being in the novel has yet to occur to me.
The Mirador didn't really interest me that much. Not like the Lower City did. Probably because I don't really care about royal courts and high power political games in any genre. They look like big frouffy tea parties to me.
The naming of things bothered me a bit. There are some clear instances where things are invented names, and then there are instances where names are clearly derivative of historical cultures and that tends to throw me in novels, because if I see something that I clearly know is, say, Roman or French - then I wonder if we're in alternate universe on Earth or something and I want to know why in this fantasy city there's something clearly from *this* world hanging out.
There were Roman numerals used in one instance and I found myself saying, "Okay. We're using Roman numerals, but we've got a completely indecipherable calendrical system. How did we get the Roman system of numbers and not their calendar? Huh. And why is Mildmay telling a bunch of Russian sailors about the Germanic mythological character of Brunhilde?"
This is a personal quirk, though. It's attached to my reasons for being utterly unimpressed with worldbuilding, no matter how well done. Literarily, I can't find a justification for it being wrong. It was a minor distraction and didn't make me throw the book across the room or anything.
As is the fact that I kind of wish that Mildmay had said "fuck" a little less often. I get it, he's a thief, a low-class thief, and he isn't going to use polite speech. But there were some places where I thought that it wasn't all that necessary. Mildmay might not be at the highest social rung, but he is in no way stupid. He's quite clever and capable of thinking of something else.
Personal preference, though.
I also got mad at the ending because it was chopped off and not at all conclusive to the story. When you can read the preview of the sequel at the back of the book and it's like reading the same book, you know you got jipped. So somebody sold me a story I didn't get all of. It's kind of like I bought a slice of pizza without the crust. I can still enjoy the pizza, but I didn't get what I paid for.
Because the pizza maker obviously wants me to buy another two slices of pizza so I can get to the goddamn crust so the pizza maker is cutting them out of the center of the pizza like a crazy person.
I figure it like this: if you're going to run a scam like that, at least try to fool the people.
Final verdict - I give the novel E+ for Effort, and a B- overall. For all it's other sins, it's a damnably quick read and doesn't waste time. It tries to pull a triple lutz, and while it botched the landing, it tried. Gotta give credit there.
I would recommend this to friend, but I wouldn't put in the "why aren't you reading it right now!" category or anything. It'd make a good airplane book. It doesn't make me want to read any of it's sequels, but I would read more from this author. I like the way it's written, I like what it tries. So if I see another novel by this author that isn't in this 'verse, I'll pick it up.
But I am not suffering through two more books of Felix 'Woe Is Me' Harrowgate for anything, man. Not even for Mildmay and canon slash. Life is short.
