Tag Archives: science fiction

Science fiction doldrums, or a sign of age….

…but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat
in his youth that he cannot endure in his age.

Benedick, Much Ado About Nothing

When I was young– I think Gerald Ford was president– I was an omnivore for science-fiction books and movies. As a teenager I was known to read through entire sci-fi sections of local libraries, and demand more. I would read anything sci-fi, and watch almost anything that appeared to be science-fiction cinema or TV. In the process I read a lot of trashy sci-fi, along with classics many sci-fi fans today have never heard of (how many thirteen-year-olds nowadays have read through Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy? Just saying….), and watched a lot of turkey movies and TV shows, even Space 1999 and UFO, which, at the very least, sharpened my critical faculties.

Doubtless this hunger was driven (in part, at least) by the desert-like conditions of my natal culture, which revolved around westerns and country music. There is only so much Bonanza and Gunsmoke a youngster can watch before there’s a reaction. Perhaps an adolescent rebellion button was pushed, as well, since most of the people around me considered anything sci-fi to be (in the words of my father) “weird stuff”. You have to say it with a Texas accent to get the full flavor.

At the same, there was a genuine love the genre, and where good science-fiction could take me. Unlike my siblings, my imagination flew high and fast with Andre Norton, Heinlein and Asimov, just to name three out of so many. One hour of Star Trek— which I was mostly forbidden to watch in its first run, because it would “warp my brain” (another of my father’s declarations)– charged me like a battery. Even “Spock’s Brain”.

But, over the years, the voracious appetite faded. Doubtless this was inevitable– as we grow older we become more aware of what is good and what is bad, of what works and what doesn’t. But, for me, I seem to lost my ability to suspend judgment of a book I haven’t read. I have, in fact, become enormously picky.

The fact that the genre appears to be in the doldrums doesn’t help. When I go into a major bookstore or the book section of a large store like Target, I see shelf upon shelf of lookalike books– vampires, werewolves, undead, teenage girls with special powers, video game tie-in novels, and usually three or four space-opera series that feature some grim-faced person in a uniform on the cover, along with exploding starships. Everyone seems bent on creating endless imitations of The Hunger Games, or Divergent, or Starship Troopers (only with oodles of sex), or…. you get the picture.

Fantasy is even worse. It used to be that everyone tried to imitate Tolkien. Now everyone is trying to imitate George R. R. Martin. Or Twilight, God help us all (that alone could be a sign that our civilization is crumbling before our eyes).

There is good sci-fi out there– people like John Scalzi and Connie Willis often capture my attention. But they seem few and far between these days.

I still love the genre, but I nowadays find fewer and fewer things to get really excited about. I suggested that the genre is in the doldrums, but I have to admit that it could be, just as much, or as easily, me. For, like Benedick in Much Ado, I have to admit that my tastes, in my old age, may just be changing.

There is, in fact, some evidence of that. I have been seen reading Ragtime and The March by E. L. Doctorow. I just read To Kill a Mockingbird for the first time ever. The one fiction series that has managed to capture and hold my interest in recent years has been Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey–Maturin series, in which I have a tremendous store of great writing.

There is even a rumor that I have a copy of Pride and Prejudice in the house.

In truth, I was never exclusively a reader of just science-fiction. I read The Thin Red Line at fourteen and War and Peace at sixteen. I have always loved Shakespeare, and I had a long John D. MacDonald period some years back. My focus, though, for a very long time, was on science-fiction and fantasy, and I’m beginning to suspect that I missed some good stuff. Belatedly, I am starting to redress the deficit.

I’m not giving up on fantasy and science-fiction, but I’m looking to balance out my fictional travels. And maybe I will find as much adventure in Jane Austen as in Robert Heinlein. Just with more tea and less powered-armor….

Lizzie Bennet in powered-armor…wait a minute….

Films that inspire me– “Things to Come” and the history that wasn’t– Part Two

(This is the second part of my discussion of the movie Things to Come)

Part Two– how this film inspires me.

My previous post was an appreciation of Alexander Korda’s Things to Come, discussing how it is a powerful, if sometimes disturbing, early science-fiction film classic. One of the powerful aspects of the film is that it took contemporary events and concerns of 1936 and projected them into an effective “future history“. There were many thunderstorms looming on the horizon that year. Germany was rising again under the Nazi dictatorship, which had no scruples about telling the whole world what it meant to do, especially in Eastern Europe. Asia had already seen the Japanese takeover of Manchuria in 1931 and would see all-out war between Japan and China in 1937. Civil War broke out in Spain in July, 1936, in what most historians now see as a dress-rehearsal for World War II. It didn’t take much prescience to see that another general war was coming.

The course the film lays out for this new Great War is a reasonable projection of the first Great War, which was deadlocked for most of its history. Supposing that the war could go on for year after year of bloody stalemate was not a wild leap of the imagination. In that stalemate the breakdown of civilization and the previous world order was all-too-reasonably a possibility.

The fact that the actual history did not turn out the way Things to Come thought they might teaches us some lessons about the business of alternate history. It also teaches us something about irony.

In its classic form, alternate history takes a single, critical event and changes it– Lee Harvey Oswald misses Kennedy, Hitler dies of poison gas in World War One, Harry Truman loses the 1948 presidential election– and examines how that one change alters history. When it’s done thoughtfully and well, alternate history can create worlds that are tragic, or evocative of what might have been, and can teach us important lessons about the contingency of life and history on decisions which might even appear trivial at that moment.

Watching Things to Come reminds me of all the ways history could have turned out differently in World War Two. The period is loaded with potential branch points for an alternate history, and it’s been a favorite of sci-fi writers for decades. World War Two is also a rich field for alternate history writers because the moral implications of a Nazi victory in the war would have been so profound– a nightmare that barely bears thinking about. Even short of that catastrophe, postwar history could have turned out a thousand different ways, right down to the very personal and intimate. What if Anne Frank had survived the war? What if Eisenhower and Kay Summersby had really hooked up? What if Hitler had immigrated to America in 1919 and become an illustrator for science-fiction magazines– which is the actual premise of Norman Spinrad’s The Iron Dream.

All of this is fertile ground for science-fiction writers, and looks to remain so for a long time to come.

At this point, though, you might be asking what Things to Come has to with alternate history– it was created as a future-history, not alternate history. To put it simply, all future-histories are fated to become alternate history. Eventually every future sketched out by an author finds itself diverging from factual history, real-life events having no obligation to adhere to some writer’s conception of what path they should follow. When this happens, some authors try to retcon their stories, but others throw in the towel and say, “It’s alternate history”. As an example, the future history of Star Trek, as described in the original series, has now diverged from factual history (no Eugenics War in the 1990’s, etc.).

In the case of The Shape of Things to Come, Wells’ original 1933 novel, his future history was obsolete almost at once. Things to Come did a little bit better, but by 1946 or so it was already diverging from real life– Western civilization did not fall into a recurring cycle of hot wars lasting a generation, but rather a Cold War with peripheral bush-wars and serious economic and political competition between East and West.

So why didn’t the future of Things to Come become our factual history?

The answer is pretty damn ironic– nuclear weapons.

Suppose that nuclear science took a different path in the 1930’s and that no one on the planet in 1940 has an inkling that nuclear weapons are a practical possibility. That means no Manhattan Project, no Tube Alloys (the code-name for the British bomb project), no German nuclear weapon program, no Soviet effort, no Japanese investigations– every major power had some sort of nuclear research going on on during the war. In fact, one of the poorly remembered aspects of the history of World War II is that, in certain circles, there was real fear the Germans were years ahead of the Allies and might deploy a weapon before them. In fact, for several different reasons, they were years behind.

Just as it was in the factual history, in our alternate history the war in Europe would have been won by conventional forces in the spring of 1945. The immediate result of our small alteration would almost certainly have been that the planned invasion of Japan in the autumn of 1945 would have gone forward. The Allies anticipated a long, hard campaign to subjugate the Japanese home islands, including a million casualties (killed, wounded, missing). There is no telling how devastated such a invasion would have left Japan, over and above the destruction already wrecked by aerial bombing.

Suppose the conquest of Japan adds two additional years or so to the war, so that World War Two ends in 1947 or 1948 (GIs in the Pacific anticipated this– their poetic formula for the end of the war was “Golden Gate in ’48”). America’s instinct then, as it was in the factual history, would have almost certainly been to demobilize the Army.


In the absence of a nuclear deterrent, it is conceivable that the Soviets, under Stalin, would have seen the weak occupation forces the Western allies had in Germany (and they were weak), and been tempted to use the still powerful Red Army to try and scoop up West Berlin and then the rest of Germany. If so, the war would have resumed as the former allies fell out (as former allies tend to do)– and Wells’ generation of war would have been well under way.

In the factual history, though, nuclear weapons made even Joe Stalin think twice about resuming conventional warfare in the heart of Europe. The salient irony of nuclear weapons in the Cold War is that they were practically useless, in any traditional war-making sense– nobody ever figured out a meaningful definition of “victory” in a nuclear-armed standoff. As a result, a kind of quasi-peace settled over Europe, allowing it to rebuild and affording two generations of Europeans the time and space to buy Mercedes and Audis and time-shares in Majorca, rather than having to scratch for food amid the ruins of Birmingham or Paris.

This is what makes alternate history so much fun, seeing how one factor can change the whole historical equation. It’s also what makes it very hard to get right.

But I intend to keep trying.


My next post on a film that inspires me– Aliens. Oh, yeah– this is the big one. Buckle up.

I’m gonna close my eyes and hold my nose…a Princess of Fire progress report

I’m at that point, it seems, with the first draft of Princess of Fire— the point at which I have begun to grasp what it will take to achieve a relatively coherent narrative– and it ain’t pretty. It’s also the point at which I have to just keep writing, no matter how much it nauseates me. That’s where the eyes and nose thingies come in.

Today I cleared 84,000 words on this novel. That probably sounds a lot more impressive than it is, because I have come to understand that this turkey has some serious problems.

When I originally conceived this story, I thought of it as basically a single-thread narrative revolving around Kathy as she faces a crisis. As I wrote the parts I already had in mind, however, it became clear that a single thread would not adequately support this story–

1. I needed to expand the narrative to include several viewpoint characters, particularly for events from which Kathy is far removed, but which powerfully affect her. This will involve tens of thousands of extra words, and the weaving together of multiple threads.

2. Many of the characters, both viewpoint and non-viewpoint, are not adequately fleshed out, and I need to revisit them and get to know them better.

3. There are major structural problems, particularly around a core timeline which needs to be the time-bomb ticking ever more loudly in the background. This timeline also involves some fairly technical material that might require some extensive (aagh!) exposition.

That’s a lot of issues with a novel that (estimating here) is about two-thirds drafted. To put it simply, I have a hell of a lot of work to do.

That’s the main reason I feel right now that I need to clap on a gas mask while writing Fire— I know full well I am putting down words that are going to have to be fixed later, and perhaps a little more than usual with a first draft. I do not want to stop and try and fix everything now, though– that is an invitation to picnic on quicksand.

It’s just the way it is– the easy stuff is over. Time to buckle down and slog.

Ten life-lessons from “Jonny Quest”

Hal Sutherland, one of the folks involved in the animated Star Trek series from the early Seventies, recently passed away. His passing got me thinking about the animation I watched as a kid, and I got pretty nostalgic about some of the old shows– Space Ghost, Spiderman, The Jetsons, etc. Looking back on them as a group, I realize many were just ways to anesthetize little kids so they would sit still long enough to notice the commercials, but some shows have found permanent niches in popular culture. A few, though, have special meaning, especially for all those kids who grew up be the geeks who sparked the IT revolution.

For me, one of those special shows was Jonny Quest.

The show (in it’s original incarnation) only ran for two seasons, 1964-1965, but I still remember it as absolutely riveting me to the carpet while it was on. Doubtless its sort of science-fiction, secret-agent adventure had a profound influence on the sort of fiction I write today. And although, when I watch it now, I can see all the stereotyped and even racist elements it casually threw around– pretty much in keeping with American television in general in the Sixties– it still has a special place in my heart.

So much so that I thought I would share a few life-lessons I have derived from it. If you loved the show, you might recognize a few of them.

1. The only way to handle a bully is head-on.
2. Enemy agents are always trying get our goodies.
3. A properly trained eleven-year-old can beat up an enemy frog-man any day.
4. Guys who wear monocles, speak with German accents, and live in South American countries are just up to no good.
5. When pursuing an invisible energy monster, always make sure your rocket pack is in working order.
6. Just because the kid in the turban doesn’t own a pair of pants doesn’t mean he can’t be your best friend.
7. A husky and sardonic bodyguard can come in real handy.
8. Mummies resent being robbed.
9. Listen to the Chinese cook you found hiding in the freezer unit of the derelict ship– he was there for a reason.
10. Science is cool.

If you remember the show with fondness, you’re certainly welcome to share any lessons it taught you. I’d love to hear them.

Writing plans for 2014

As is typical with me, I’m late marking the turn of the year. Yah, 2014. New opportunities, etc.

Okay, that’s done.

I have some definite plans for what I want to accomplish with my writing this year. Firstly, unless something goes very badly wrong, I should be able to complete and publish Princess of Fire this year, perhaps by late summer or early fall. Publishing two novels within a twelve month period would be a first for me.

There will be a downside, however. I anticipate Princess of Stars, the last part of the series, is going to be mammoth, probably somewhere north of 200,000 words, which will almost certainly mean I will need to eventually break it into two separate books. I want to write it as one narrative stream, however, so at the moment it is a unity in my head. Because of the length, there will probably be a long gap between the publication of Fire and of Stars, especially since there are things in Stars that may stretch my skills to the breaking point. I need to make Fire fairly memorable, to keep people engaged during what promises to be another long hiatus, and that is what I am working on at the moment.

It won’t be just the size of Stars that will be tough; I expect the book will be internally complex, as I pull together all the threads that I have been developing in the previous four books of the Divine Lotus series and resolve them in what I hope will be an epic science-fiction story. The size and complexity of the novel may well push me during this year to do something I usually don’t do for my stories– write an outline. That, or the equivalent of a movie treatment. Either way, I anticipate having to plan for Stars at a level I usually don’t attempt. I am normally a pantser, but this book feels as if it will need special treatment.

At the same time, while I work on Fire and prepare for Stars, other projects are romping around in the back of my brain. I have talked about some of these projects in previous posts, and at different times one or another of them looms larger in my consciousness than others. At the moment I am thinking about a historical novel set in 1900 (there was a lot going on that year) that I have had in mind, but it is actually an open question which project I will take on after the completion of Stars, which is, more than likely, at least two years away. Meanwhile, I am basically reading and researching for the other projects on an ongoing basis.

The last major piece of my writing plan for 2014 is to continue blogging, diversifying what I blog about (more reviews, less whining) and staying engaged with the online community I’ve discovered. 2013 was the year I began to blog in earnest, and I plan to keep it up. Aside from that, I will probably doodle away on pieces on the side, such as Dinosaur Planet (a new episode coming soon), more abandoned fragments, and assorted topics as they come to me.

Looks like it’s going to be a busy year. Then again, life has a way of throwing me curve balls. Or avalanches. We’ll see.



I think a little postpartum depression is setting in; I spent yesterday somewhat in the doldrums, although I wrote a few hundred words on Princess of Fire and got the formatted file ready for the CreateSpace POD edition of Shadows. I should be approving the proof for CS today. Once that is done, every immediate and necessary task for publishing Shadows will be complete.

Although Princess of Fire seems to be eagerly awaiting being written, I may actually spend some time doodling once again on my epic fantasy. It’s gone by a lot different names, but I may just call it The Horseman for the time being. Who knows, maybe this time it will catch fire.

My doldrums are probably deepened by my continued lack of gainful employment. There are nibbles, but no solid hits. Yet. Soon, I hope.

At some point I plan to go see “Catching Fire”, probably this weekend. Once I do, I will almost certainly be posting a review.

Hmm, I need to stop rambling and get back to work.


A quicky quick update of the quick kind

I pushed through today and completed the line edit for Princess of Shadows. All changes are complete, thank God. I resisted the temptation to publish at once; instead I am performing one more check by creating a PRC file and reviewing it to make sure the formatting is correct. I should be able to get through that by tomorrow afternoon; unless I find something horribly wrong, tomorrow evening Princess of Shadows will be uploaded to Kindle. The CreateSpace file will follow in a couple of days.

I’d celebrate, but I’m waaaay too tired.


The problem with Superman

I missed it when it came out in the theaters, so three days ago I rushed down to my local mom-and-pop corner video store when I found out they had Man of Steel on DVD.

What follows is not a review, which would be fairly pointless for a film that’s been out for months. It is more my thoughts, reactions and questions regarding the film, and how it applies to the super-hero genre in general and my own, still-embryonic, super-hero tale.


Okay, that’s taken care of. Onward.

The first and foremost aspect of Man of Steel I really appreciate is that it deals with the tale of Superman with the gravity it deserves. It has humor, but the humor is appropriate and integral to the story, based on the interactions of the characters and not on silly villains or jokes. And there’s not a speck of camp in evidence, which is a profound relief. In my opinion, most other film versions of Superman have abjectly failed in this regard, and I am almost giddy to see a version that takes the character and his world seriously.

The initial scenes on Krypton kept me utterly riveted, aided in no small part by Hans Zimmer’s terrific score. Snyder’s vision of Krypton and Kryptonians is of a dying world and a great race in its decadence. When General Zod commits a coup just as Jor-el is trying to convince the Kryptonian high council of their peril, and a brief civil war ensues, I was rapt. Zod kills Jor-el just as Kal-el’s starship/bassinet launches, which is a great dramatic moment.

Once Kal-el/Clark Kent is on Earth, the movie adheres to some aspects of the classic template, and alters others (in this version Lana Lang is a brunette, and Lois Lane is a redhead. Go figure). Chief among the changes is that Lois Lane figures out Superman’s identity early on, so that particular piece of story tension is off the table, for the better, in my opinion. Clark’s struggle to find his place and understand who he is is dealt with in both present time and flashback. Just about the moment he gets it down, Zod and his surviving flunkies show up. Seems Jor-el had slipped the Codex, the master genetic database for Kryptonians, into Kal-el before sending him off. Zod needs the Codex to recreate the Kryptonian race, whom he then plans to settle on an Earth terraformed to Kryptonian standards, which will mean the destruction of the human race. At this point, it is game on between Superman and Zod (one point– don’t ever threaten Ma Kent. Very bad idea).

A tremendous amount of punching, throwing, smashing and general mayhem ensue, first in Smallville, and then in Metropolis. Once on Earth, the Kryptonians share Superman’s basic super-strength and invulnerability, although finer skills like heat-vision, flying and super-hearing take time to develop. The Kryptonians have to wear breathing apparatus, otherwise exposure to Earth’s atmosphere causes pain and disorientation as these extra abilities awaken and cause sensory overload.

Superman’s initial encounter with Faora and Nam-ek, two of Zod’s flunkies, is basically a stalemate until Superman manages to damage Faora’s breathing apparatus. Superman’s climatic battle with Zod is even more of a stalemate, because Zod has now acclimated to Earth’s atmosphere. The climatic moment comes as Zod, head-locked by Superman, threatens to fry bystanders with his heat vision. Superman warns him not to; when it becomes apparent Zod will carry out his threat, Superman snaps his neck and kills him.


Rewind, look at that again. Superman breaks Zod’s neck. And at that moment, I was completely thrown out of the movie.

Why? Because up until that point, we had seen that Superman and the other Kryptonians were evenly matched. The fights have a frustrating aspect to them, precisely because nobody seems to really get the upper hand. More to the point, nobody gets physically hurt. In the fight in Smallville, neither Superman nor Faora and Nam-Ek suffer so much as a bloody nose. Faora is rendered unconscious, but that’s because of her breathing apparatus’ destruction. Her face doesn’t even get smudged. Superman takes a flaming locomotive engine in the kisser and emerges without a hair out of place. He throws Nam-Ek into the rail-yard in the first place and Nam-Ek apparently suffers no significant damage. Ditto through the titanic fight between Superman and Zod, up until the last moment.

Reviewing online arguments regarding this moment of the film, a lot of people seemed to justify what is, to me, a glaring logic failure by saying “Superman was on Earth longer, he was stronger”. Well, if so, foreshadow it. Have Superman break Nam-ek’s arm and give Faora a bloody lip, or something, so long as it indicates mutual vulnerability. This is a piece of narrative debt– not only must expectations set up in the first act be fulfilled in the third, the action of the third act must be adequately foreshadowed in the first.

For my money, this was not done adequately. Killing Zod in that manner seemed to violate the rules set up for this universe, which appeared to be that even super-powered Kryptonians cannot significantly hurt one another. Considering all the action that had gone before, where Zod and Superman were basically tossing each other through buildings (and doubtless causing massive collateral casualties in the process) without a scratch, Superman suddenly snuffing Zod in this manner was jarringly out of place for me. What had been, at times, a powerful movie suddenly seemed contrived and false.

(As an aside, a lot of other people were upset by Superman killing Zod because “Superman doesn’t kill people.” Well, in the first instance, wrong, Superman has killed before. In the second instance, as far as I am concerned, the idea that Superman was above killing has always been unrealistic and a relic of the old Comic Code days. I was okay with him putting Zod six feet under, or however they do it on Krypton. ‘Nuff said on that subject).

I am just guessing, but it seems possible to me that the writers of the movie basically wrote themselves into a corner. Having committed themselves to Kryptonian invulnerability on Earth, they got to the climatic battle, couldn’t figure out how to end it in a consistent manner, and just threw in the neck snap business sort of ad hoc. I could be completely off-base on that point– it’s possible they didn’t realize there is a major logical problem, but that would be worse. However that may be, it’s clear to me that killing Zod in that manner without adequate preparation represents a major breakdown of the movie’s internal logic. There are other logic flaws in the story line that I won’t spend time discussing, but they are minor compared to this final “What the f….?”

If I had been part of the writing team for this movie (I can dream, can’t I?) I would have lobbied hard to make Superman and the Kryptonians vulnerable in one way or another, and to show it well before the climatic battle. Personally, I have never liked Superman’s invulnerability as a concept. It has long been identified as problematic for story-telling. It means that, aside from kryptonite, magic and a very few special villains, there is basically no way to put Superman in jeopardy in any ordinary sense. Over the years there have been several major reboots/re-imaginings that sought to dial Superman’s powers back and make him more vulnerable, but the mythos always seems to return to the classic character template. As a consequence, there have been decades of Superman stories lacking any real sense of danger.

Contrast Superman with Batman, especially Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises, and you’ll understand what I’m talking about– Batman fails, is hurt, he definitely runs the risk of death, and he has to struggle to overcome adversity. As a result, a case could be made that Batman is the more compelling character of the two.

So this is the problem with Superman– one I want to definitely avoid in crafting my own story. It’s evident to me that when the time comes I will have to very carefully craft my tale, determine in advance the rules of the universe (as opposed to my usual, make-it-up-as-I-go process) and clearly outline the strengths and limits of my characters. Most particularly I want them to be vulnerable in some fashion that creates real danger and a real story.

As for Man of Steel itself, it has so many really strong elements, and fundamentally the right approach to the character, that it will eventually end up in my DVD collection. The minor logic flaws, almost inevitable in a fantasy about super-heroes (you’re starting with an impossible premise in the first place, so making it sound logical is really hard), I can generally forgive. As far as Zod’s death goes, I will just have to somehow compartmentalize my confusion and disappointment over it.

Perhaps the next film in this series will be able to avoid this sort of problem. More importantly, hopefully I can take this lesson to heart and make my story stronger.


Some additional thoughts, a few days later–

I’ve had the opportunity to watch the movie through again, paying closer attention to some of the details, and I feel impelled to clarify my view of the movie. Man of Steel, for my personal taste, is probably the best Superman movie ever made. It is not perfect and it is certainly not a masterpiece, but it does most the things I’ve always wanted to see in a Superman film, taking a much more realistic approach (e.g., yes, when two superbeings battle it out in an urban area, you’re going to get civilian casualties) to the mythos. There are still pieces of the narrative that don’t feel particularly well thought out, and Zod’s death still seems a massive failure/cop-out, but on the whole I appreciate the direction in which Snyder took this version.

Saying this is the best Superman movie ever is, frankly, also a statement of how I feel about most previous Superman films. Basically it’s been 35 years of general disappointment, with the first third of Superman (1978) being okay and Superman Returns (2006) being a worthy effort. Most everything else Superman-related in the movies has been worthless, in my opinion. Perhaps this puts my appreciation of Man of Steel in perspective. Hopefully the next film will build on the foundation Snyder has built.

Nope, changed my mind….

Okay, re: what I said in my last post about just bulling through the line edit on Princess of Shadows? Forget it– today I cut another 7,000 words. The dime dropped and I realized that I could cut to the chase on one section, saving about 3000 words, and that there was another section I did not need at all– I could accomplish the same goal with two hundred words versus about 4000. And I think I’ve gained a better understanding of the warning signs that a passage is too big, or surplus to requirements.

The downside is that now the PDF I’ve been using for the read-through is significantly different from my working draft file, so I have had to resubmit my doc file to CreateSpace and I’m waiting for a new PDF. This will add a couple of days to the read-through, but I think it’s worth it. Shadows is still going to be a very large book, in the vicinity of 151,000 words, but the action should now move along at a much better pace.

While I’m waiting, I’ll probably post something on Man of Steel, which I finally got around to seeing. Not a review– more like some thoughts on the fraught nature of super-hero stories.