The Baggage a Reader Brings

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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Over the years, I have occasionally been surprised by a comment of a reviewer of one of my books, when something I have written has obviously pushed a button in that reader…sometimes with a good result, sometimes not.

The truth is that all readers bring their own history to the time they spend in the author’s world, and a writer cannot predict what the result will be.

I now have an example of the reverse happening: I am bringing my own baggage to the table, and it is affecting deeply the way I regard an author and his story.

The book is non-fiction, a winner of the US National Book Award back in the 1970s: The Snow Leopard, by Peter Matthiessen. It remains a classic – the quintessential story of a physical journey matching a spiritual one – a man “in search of himself” or looking for meaning in life, in this case looking to Eastern philosophy and trekking through some of the most remote mountains of Nepal to a Buddhist shrine on the Crystal Mountain. [Hmmm – sounds almost like a fantasy cliche setting…]

The writing is often lyrical and moving; the story fascinating – yet I had a problem with it right from the beginning. Why? Because the author – having lost his wife to cancer – elects to go on this journey soon afterwards. He has children, including an eight year old son he leaves with friends.

And this is where my mother instincts kick in big time. He goes off to make what is a personal and therefore inherently selfish trip, from which – given the dangers and remoteness of the region – he might possibly never come back. Certainly he is out of contact with anyone back home for a number of months. And he does this to a boy of eight who has just lost his mother.

So when the cover blurb babbles on about spiritual adventure… soul striving … radiant and deeply moving, etc etc, the mother part of me is asking: yes, but how could you do this to your young son at this devastating time in his life? At whose expense was your spiritual journey?

I guess mothers tend to have a different perspective towards what constitutes an appropriate time for personal development.

I know my baggage is ruining the book for me.

Embarrassing moments I have known

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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That list somewhere below of “things I have done which you probably haven’t” has got me thinking back to days gone by.

And for some reason, embarrassing “moments I’d rather forget” seem to head the list of memories. Why on earth do we tend to remember the awful bits with such crystal clarity and not the good ones?? Anyway, here’s one I remembered.

My husband often used to invite his overseas work-related visitors to dinner at our house, together with some of his colleagues. On this particular occasion, everything conspired to ruin the event…

Firstly, we had a new live-in maid. (Yeah, yeah, I know…) She was fairly young and very shy, straight out of a Javanese-speaking village down in Johor. At the time my two girls were three and a baby of a couple of a couple months. I cooked most of the dinner, but was running late. My husband had to leave to pick up the visitors from their hotel. The locals were coming by themselves, of course.

And just to complete the scenario: our lounge room had concertina doors, which were pushed completely open to the side that night, but also a wrought iron grille – which was locked. So anyone arriving at the door could see in, and of course, hear everything. The main bedroom gave off the lounge room.

I left the baby with the maid, and dashed into the shower with about 15 minutes to spare (this is the tropics, remember – having been slaving away in the kitchen, I wasn’t about to appear before the guests dripping in sweat.) I came out of the shower, and was still quite naked, when my three-year-old comes running into the bedroom, saying “They’re here! They’re here!” – meaning the contingent of (early) local guests.

“Close the door!” I hiss at her, not wanted to be on display to the guests in my state of undress.

A number of things then happen more or less simultaneously. I reach out to grab up the roll-on deodorant from the dressing table, and the whole roll-on top comes flying off, dousing me in sticky deodorant from hair all the way to feet. And three-year-old slams the door on her hand and sets off a bawl that could have been heard in the next suburb.

So there I am, with visitors at the front door for a fancy dinner party, a daughter screaming blue murder, her sticky, naked mother panicking wondering whether her child’s broken her fingers, husband not back, and a maid to shy too come out of her room and let the visitors in.

Moments like that, there really ain’t much you can do.

I comfort daughter, check out all the fingers, run water into the basin and get her to soak her hand (she’s still yelling), ignore the doorbell and puzzled snatches of conversation (“Well, someone’s home, I can hear a child screaming” and “Are you sure we have the right house?”).

I then get back under the shower and wash off the goo and shampoo my hair. I try to persuade daughter – whose sobs have faded by this time – to go and let the guests in while I get dressed. She’s not budging.

And so it was my husband arrives back to find the house grille locked and puzzled guests milling around the front driveway…

On being 4 metres tall…

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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So, my daughter once had her 7′ face on the back of a bus; now my husband has had a similar sized photo up in public. Thank goodness no one has ever contemplated doing that to me.

The other shot is from his lecture.

And just to show what a versatile man he is: this public lecture was in his capacity as Adjunct Professor attached to the university’s Faculty of Science, and was about the biodiversity of Sabah.

He is giving another public lecture in about 3 months’ time, in his capacity as a visiting professor to SERI at the Faculty of Engineering (Institute of Sustainable Energy), and will be about Malaysia going for nuclear power.

Malaysia boleh…but do our security folk understand satire?

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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This via Malaysia’s wonderful literary blog: Bibliobibuli

…Uncyclopedia, a parody of online encyclopedia Wikipedia, has been labeled by the Malaysian government as dangerous. The Internal Security Department of Malaysia issued the warning today, saying that the site has “messages and information insulting Malaysia”. (From Wikinews)

Says Bibliobibuli: And just how is Malaysia depicted? Here’s a snippet:

Essentially the penis of Asia which is located to the north of their cousins who live on an even smaller island Singapore, Malaysia (also known as Bolehland) is a young nation of diverse cultures and races such as F1 Formula-1 and Nascar. The timezone of Malaysia is unique because it follows the system of +1/+2 PMT (Predetermined Meeting Time) which is 1 or 2 hours later than PMT. Most foreigners have difficulty adjusting to this new timezone as they tend to show up 1 or 2 hours earlier than the local counterparts. The nation is moving forward with a vision towards becoming a developed nation by the year 2020, 3030, 4040 or whatever catchy number. … Another common state that Malaysians have is denial (no lah, where got?)…

The Internal Security Department urges folks not to circulate the content of the site. (And as Biblibibuli says: “Ooops!”)

And in response to the warning, the Uncyclopedia Internal Security Department has issued one of its own … and asked all Malaysians not to use the country today.

and from me: Just when will we learn to laugh at ourselves?

Ten Things I’ve Done You Probably Haven’t

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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This is a meme of sorts, started by John Scalzi over at Whatever.

So, 10 things I’ve done that you (probably) have not, if you had any sense…

  1. Administered a correspondence course for GP doctors when I know nothing whatsoever about medicine.
  2. Worn a T-shirt that was (while I was wearing it) admired by Queen Noor of Jordan.
  3. Walked 20 – 30 kms up the Headhunter’s Trail in Sarawak wearing a shoe which had the sole held on only by elastic bands.
  4. Killed a cobra with a broomstick.
  5. Survived 30-40 wasp stings (all at the same time, in the middle of a mangrove swamp).
  6. Slept in a thoroughly decadent baroque bedroom with chandeliers and a mirrored ceiling overhead, quite unconscious of the fact that a revolution had just started in the country I was in…
  7. Took my daughter’s in-laws to a Balinese brothel in the middle of the night thinking it was a karaoke bar
  8. Got (thoroughly) beaten to the top of a 13,455′ (4101m) high mountain by the youngest person to have ever climbed it independently (my daughter, aged 8 at the time) .
  9. Swum with wild penguins (and no wet suit either).
  10. Had a Vice-President of Iran to dinner in my house, for which I did the cooking…

Need help with writing your novel?

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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I had an email from someone I didn’t know the other day, saying he was up to chater (sic) 8 in his novel and, if I wanted to help him with any aspects of it, to plase (sic) let him know.

Short answer: No.
Why not?
Basically, because I prefer to help my friends than strangers and there’s only so much time in the day that I can spare away from writing to comment on MSS free of charge.
And because there are other ways novice writers can get help. Like these:

Step One:
Read. Read books of the kind you are writing, and books about how to write that kind of book.
Step Two:
Join a crit group dealing with your kind of book, either online or in the real world, where you crit their writing and they crit yours.
Possible Step Three:
Pay a professional.

Which brings me to one of my (unpaid) beta readers. I did a very small favour for him, and in return he beta read “Rogue Rainlord“. I can’t recommend this guy enough – he was spot on so many times with everything from plot holes, to how characterisation could be improved, to typos. His forte is continuity problems.

Rogue Rainlord will be a better book because he took the trouble to comment. I can’t thank him enough.

If you want your sff book (or part of it) professionally read by someone who is very good at this sort of thing and who will give you real value for money, try this guy (and no, I’m not getting a cut!)

His name is Phill Berrie, and you can find him here: http://web.mac.com/phillberrie/Phill/PB_Index.html

There was a time…

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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…when I hated shoes. (This post is apropos of nothing, so don’t look for deep meaning here.)

It was just that I was bought up on a farm, and whenever I could, I went barefoot. The soles of my feet were as thick and as good as leather. Even in winter, I often ran about without shoes until my feet turned blue with cold.

I dutifully went off to school wearing shoes – leather sandals (without socks) in summer, and proper shoes in winter – but usually took them off to play on the unsurfaced playground at school. [Things changed at highschool – these are my primary school days I am talking about.]

I was a good sprinter and often represented my school at interschool meets – and always ran barefoot. School ovals were always grassed back then, none of these cinder tracks.

As a result, my feet never welcomed being crammed into shoes. They were broad and the toes spread, so it was hard to find shoes that fit. One of the aids we had to buying shoes back then was an x-ray machine (I kid you not) in all the major shoe stores. The shop assistant would turn it on and you put your foot inside the machine where you could see your foot skeleton and how well it fitted into the fuzzy outline of the shoe… Try on half a dozen pairs, and you could do it half a dozen times in a row. For both feet. If ever I get cancer of the foot, I’ll know why, won’t I?

A British immigrant family came to live in the area and the wife remarked at how shocked she was to realise how poor the community was. When asked what made her think that, she remarked, “Well they can’t even afford to buy the children shoes…”

Believe me, parents all tried to put us kids into shoes, but we just whipped them off first opportunity we got. A glance around the classroom would reveal that at least half of us – especially in summer – were sitting there with our feet bare, our soles black from the combination of residue from the oiled jarrah wood floors and the dust of the playground.

I guess this could be why I have never been enamoured of wobbling along on high heels or platform soles. I still wonder why we women do it. Sure, high heels make for a sexy walk and taut long-looking legs – but at what price? Twisted ankles and broken bones, back problems, bunions, pain – the list is endless.

I do have one pair of heels and wear them on occasion. They even make me feel elegant. And I wonder why we emancipated women do it. I marvel why, at my age, I still feel compelled to wear heels – and I wonder even more why I feel good doing it.

I want to be back in the Kelmscott School playground, under those huge Norfolk Pines, in the heat of a summer day, drawing patterns in the dust with a bare toe and not feeling the least bit self-conscious about it…

Pull the other leg: Malaysian Palm Oil Council

Posted on by March 13, 2021
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It’s wonderful what people will do to avoid the truth. The Malaysian Palm Oil Council has produced a promo video which is simply untruthful and rather ridiculous.
You can see it here.

It starts with someone jogging through a rather lovely patch of rainforest, while the voice over waffles about the wonders of nature. Then it comes up with catch phrases like: “Palm oil: a gift from nature; a gift for life” and “it’s trees give life and help the planet breathe”.

While this is going on, it shows oil palm and a lot of wildlife and plants – most of which are not found in Malaysia (an iguana, hummingbirds, salvinia water plant – I’m not even sure that the particular leaf-cutting ant pictured is one found in Malaysia, although I could be wrong about that.)

As quoted in today’s The Star newspaper, the MPOC chief executive officer, Tan Sri Dr Yusof Basiron, said that the advertisements were not misleading in any way. He even has the gall to say that the plantations shown in the adverts are real…

Perhaps he meant real(ly) spruced up with hummingbirds. And that shot of crown-shyness comes from the Forestry Research Institute here in Kuala Lumpur, not the forest edge next to any oil palm plantation.

Right. Please, please show me Central or South American hummingbirds flying around oil palm plantations, Tan Sri! I’d love to write that up in a scientific paper.

And the video concludes with the words: “Malaysia Palm Oil, sustainably produced since 1917. “

Ok, so once you’ve cut down the rainforest and killed its biodiversity pretty much down to the last ant, and planted your palms, from THEN on it is sustainable, well, mostly, I’ll agree.

But why not have a little honesty and just admit that – once we’ve killed our sustainable goose (our rainforest) that could have laid golden timber and forest products ad infinitum – we need palm oil for our own prosperity? Why not admit that we are too selfish to limit out family size or use less “stuff” in order to look after our planet? Why must we pretend that oil palm is good for anything except to put money in our pockets, soap in our bathrooms and food on our tables? It’s not even natural to this country!

The American prairie was once full of wildlife; now it grows corn. The forests of Europe once had wolves and bears; now there are only a couple of pocket-sized natural forests left on the whole of the continent.

Palm oil plantations are no different. No worse, no better. But please don’t try and kid us. We aren’t that stupid…are we? And we all should take our share of the blame anyway. Just as our critics overseas should admit they haven’t a leg to stand on – they’ve “been there, done that.”

Photos: oil palm plantation in Johor. The smoke is from a oil palm processing plant. Waste is poured out into the air and the rivers.

Denvention: worldcon Denver 2008

Posted on by October 11, 2023
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I have bought a membership of Denvention, the World Science Fiction convention of 2008. My first worldcon was in Glasgow, three years back, which I went to because my daughter was then living in Glasgow.

She is now living in L.A., and Denver is somewhere between L.A. and my other daughter in Virginia, and the con is at the right time of the year [just before I take on my August-September babysitting-grandson-duties], so it seemed fated I must go…

And not long now to Easter and the Australian Natcon where I am a guest.

They will be my only two cons this year.

See you there?
And some memories from Scotland: With author extraordinaire Trudi Canavan, and Donna Hanson (who will be my room mate again in 2008).

With Paul Ewins, self, Donna, Nashii (my daughter), Trudi, in the Orkneys.

Me giving a reading.

Photos by Trudi and Paul.