Nina Allan's Homepage

Category: news (Page 19 of 26)

Angry on the internet

I don’t often show my anger in public. I prefer the considered, properly argued response. It’s more Machiavellian. You burn less adrenalin that way. More importantly, you give yourself time to work out what you really think. Today though, I am angry. Seriously. And it really didn’t take me long to work out what I thought.

Earlier this afternoon, I came across this extract from a profile in The Times of the novelist (and winner of the Booker Prize) Eleanor Catton, which Rose Tremlett, the press officer at Little, Brown, had posted on Twitter:

Embedded image permalink

My first reaction was disbelief. I mean, how much more condescending, insulting and sexist could you get? If the piece had been in The Sun or the Daily Mail, I would still have been angry, but as this is precisely the kind of rhetoric we’ve come to expect from such venues, I would ultimately have shrugged my shoulders, muttered w**kers, and moved right along. But this was The Times, formerly a respected broadsheet. Not any more. This article offers proof that it’s now fully Murdochized. Shame on you, Times, shame on you.

I was busy writing a book review, but ended up breaking off from it as I felt there was no way I could let this abomination go. Not wanting to fall into the trap of reacting to something on the internet without fully ascertaining the facts, I popped straight round to our local newsagent and bought a copy of The Times so I could read the full article in situ. Perhaps Twitter had it all wrong, I thought (well, it wouldn’t be the first time). Perhaps the article was actually some lamentably misguided attempt to be ironic, or contentious. In the interests of fair-mindedness, I felt I ought at least to check.

Nope. It’s exactly as written. Worse, it’s written by a woman, Kate Saunders, an experienced journalist and, one would hope, both old enough and young enough to know better. In keeping with my resolution to try never to say anything online that I wouldn’t say in person to the person concerned, I wish I could tell Kate Saunders face to face that this piece is a despicable betrayal of Eleanor Catton, of women in general and women writers in particular. Kate Saunders, you should apologise publicly for your article, and retract it.

I’ve had several (amicable) conversations in the past year with male friends who seem somewhat bemused at the idea that there is ‘still’ an equality problem for women in the UK, with particular reference to the world of books, and the world of SFF. To those who doubt the continuing relevance of such issues, I would tell them to go away and read the above article. If you still think there isn’t a problem, read it again. It’s not just that one person wrote it – it’s that a national newspaper printed it, unironically, and that a large number of that paper’s regular readers will no doubt consume it unironically also.

I would urge anyone who takes The Times to boycott that newspaper forthwith, until the editorial staff issue an unreserved apology to Eleanor Catton.

Incidentally, it’s worth noting that Kate Saunders appears to be of the opinion that Eleanor Catton has to actually believe in astrology in order to use its intricate structures in her novel. Saunders also has this to say on the subject of SFF:

What next? Catton, with an admirable calm that might distress her publishers, says she’s not writing at the moment. Yet she is, of course, working. “I’m looking at two areas,” she says. “Systemised magic and time travel.” This is intriguing. These are not serious subjects outside fiction for children.

Expletive deleted.

I shall be writing about The Luminaries as soon as I can, as part of my crime blog. I’m currently just over half way through it, but other reading commitments have set me back a bit. But in the meantime, congratulations to Eleanor Catton, one of the most gifted young writers currently working, on her wonderful Booker win, and congratulations to the jury under Robert Macfarlane on making such a brave choice. Too bad for dear old Robert McCrum that they did after all ‘inflict this monster on the reading public.’ (What an arse.) Re-sult.

A tail for the time being…

A road in SE4, October 2013

I heard Zadie Smith on Desert Island Discs the other weekend. I was particularly interested in what she said about her writing process, the way she invariably begins a novel by composing an opening scene and then going over and over that scene, deepening it, rewriting it, altering it, until finally the rest of the novel begins to fill itself in behind it.

I always find it reassuring to hear from writers who tend towards the method-in-the-madness approach to their work, rather than the rigorous plotting, can’t-begin-until-you-know-exactly-what’s-happening-in-every-chapter approach employed by others, if only because I myself remain an unreformed adherent of the write-it-and-see philosophy. I remember when I first began writing seriously, feeling daunted and inadequate in the face of all those instruction manuals that stressed the importance of detailed chapter breakdowns and character outlines. I could see the logic, but something about it didn’t seem right to me, or better, feel right for me. The epiphany came when I read Stephen King’s inimitable work manual, or toolbox, as he likes to call it, On Writing – if you’re only ever going to read one how-to book in your life, please make it this one. King writes about how he doesn’t so much plot a book as discover it – he likens the process to the work of an archaeologist excavating a fossil – that he doesn’t so much think about chapter progression as begin writing about his characters and seeing what happens to them. Reading this, I felt like jumping in the air and making a whooping noise. If King says this is an OK way to do it, then it must be, I thought. It was like being released from a cage.

Those who know me best will confirm that I’m almost pathologically routine-led when it comes to the outline mechanics of being a writer. I have to be writing, and if I don’t get that time at my desk I soon start to feel anxious, but when it comes to the work I actually do at my desk, I must sometimes appear to be the opposite of organized. As a writer, I am an inveterate discarder – I have several 30,000-word-plus sections of stymied novels on my hard drive, together with dozens of rag-ends and offcuts of stories I’ve begun to write and then found myself – for whatever reason – too dissatisfied with to feel they’re worth fighting for. At least for now.

As it turns out, these past few months have been all about discarding stuff. I’ve written a lot of words, but it’s often felt like writing in circles. You know that feeling of turning a roll of Sellotape round and round between your hands, trying to find the tag end so you can actually tear off some damn’ tape? Like that. I’ve got a whole file of notes and false starts on a book I now know won’t be this book, it’ll be the next book, which is good, I suppose, and exciting in its way (I love that book already and it doesn’t exist yet!) but still frustrating when it’s this book you’re trying to get a start on.

Well, earlier this week I finally did a King and just launched into it. I set aside all the outlines and bits-of-draft – so seductive when they include passages you feel wedded to, they can end up acting as millstones about the neck, dragging you down – and began again, right at the beginning, with a character I knew was central but had put off writing about because it ‘wasn’t time yet.’

Well actually it is time. Actually, it’s her book. So let’s stop fannying about and get on with it.

Thanks again, Steve.

Spin to Spain

I’m delighted to announce that my novella Spin, published earlier this year by TTA Press, will be appearing in a Spanish edition, translation by Silvia Schettin.

The novella was recently acquired by Susana Arroyo, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at CelsiusCon in Aviles, for the Madrid-based speculative fiction digital imprint Fata Libelli, a publisher dedicated to bringing the best in new SF/F/H to the Spanish market.

I’m over the moon about this. We received such a warm welcome in Spain, and the excitement around speculative fiction there is palpable. The question people kept asking me was: how long did I think it would be before any of my work became available in Spanish?

Now, thanks to Susana and Silvia at Fata Libelli, I can answer: not long! The Spanish edition of Spin will be published in 2014. For further details, watch this space.

Strange Horizons fund drive

Just a quick call-out to remind everyone that the Strange Horizons annual fund drive is currently underway and every pound/dollar counts!

It’s no secret that I consider SH to be one of the most important and progressive speculative fiction zines out there. I’m proud to write for it, always eager to read the latest issue, and would encourage anyone who feels they can to support the magazine’s continued existence by making a donation.

SH’s strength as a zine lies in the spread of knowledge, diversity of opinion and passionate commitment of its contributors. Everyone who writes for the magazine, whether as a reviewer or as a columnist or as a fiction writer (sometimes all three) does so out of a desire to contribute to the ongoing conversation about speculative fiction, to proselytise, to criticise, to empathise – and sometimes all three. Strange Horizons is not your passive, stay-at-home kind of zine. Above all, and in whatever guise, there is active engagement.

With every week bringing some new highlight, it’s difficult and unfair to pick favourites. But for anyone new to Strange Horizons and looking to find examples of just why it’s so special, I’d urge them to have a read of Abigail Nussbaum’s recent review of Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni. Abigail offers a fine deconstruction of the text (she’s one of the best) but she doesn’t stop there. Her examination in this article of what exactly fantastic fiction is for and how far it can hope to succeed in literary terms is an articulate and incisive contribution to what should be the most important argument in SF today. I admired and loved this piece when I first read it, and it has stayed with me. I hope to return to some of the points it raises on this blog in due course.

Every instalment of John Clute’s Scores column is a privilege to read, and I sincerely hope fantastika knows how lucky it is to have him. I don’t mind what Clute writes about – I just love wallowing in his mastery of the English language. His dissection of the Great American Horror novel, and Robert Jackson Bennett’s American Elsewhere in particular, has been a recent favourite.

And for SH fiction, I would like to take this opportunity to urge everyone to seek out what must be among my favourite short stories of 2013, Sofia Samatar’s ‘Selkie Stories are for Losers’, published in Strange Horizons way back in January. If you haven’t read it yet, read it now. If you read it at the time, reread it. Stories published in the first quarter of any given year often lose out when it comes to awards nominations, simply because it can be difficult to remember which year they appeared in and whether they are eligible. Sofia’s story is eligible for all next year’s ballots, and if I had my way it would appear on every single one of them! It’s beautifully written, perfectly structured, witty, sardonic, gorgeous – and I totally loved it.

Fairy Skulls and Lightspeed

I’m very happy to announce the publication of my story ‘Fairy Skulls’ in LCRW #29, now shipping.

Edited by Gavin Grant and Kelly Link for Small Beer Press, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet has to be one of the most innovative speculative fiction zines out there, and I’m incredibly proud to be joining a roster of writers that includes Carol Emshwiller, Ted Chiang, Karen Russell, Ursula Le Guin, Will Mackintosh and Christopher Barzak.

I honestly can’t remember now where I came by the original inspiration for ‘Fairy Skulls’, other than that we were driving through a particularly beautiful part of Kent and I suddenly found myself thinking: ‘yeah, this is exactly where a bunch of people-hating fair folk would live.’ What I do know though is that I absolutely loved writing it – it’s a fun one. I don’t do those very often, so enjoy.

While I’m here, I can also tell you that my 2007 Aeon Award-winning story ‘Angelus’ is now available to read in the September issue of Lightspeed magazine, Issue #40. It was nice to revisit this story, give it a little polish – and discover that I still like it rather a lot. The magazine also features an Author Spotlight with Kevin McNeil in which he poses interesting questions about the links between ‘Angelus’, ‘Flying in the Face of God’ and ‘Stardust’, and I attempt to answer them the best I can.

Oh, and for those of you wondering how the kittens are getting on, here’s their latest photo call. Camera flirts.

Complications goes live!

Today is the official book birthday of Complications, the French edition of The Silver Wind, published by Editions Tristram.

Some of the reviews are already in, and they ain’t too shabby…

Nina Allan ne signe en rien un livre triste, mais un texte teinté du réenchantement du quotidien par une forme de magie. Cette force qui nous maintient en vie en nous rendant réceptif à la beauté des apparitions et des signes: l’amour, toujours. (VOGUE)

Raymond Queneau disait qu’«onpeut faire rimer des personages et des situations, comme on fait rimer des mots». Là reside l’étrange poésie émanant du recueil de Nina Allan, dans cette alchimie qui exerce un effet magnétique, tantôt effrayant, tantôt apaisant, sur le lecteur. Entreitérations et variations, ses nouvelles serépondent, en effet, à la manière d’une chambre d’écho et forment des rouages aussi indissociables que les différents éléments composant un mécanisme horloger. (LE MONDE)

Complications n’est pas un livre que l’on pitche mais un texte qui donne à penser, questionne, interroge ; l’oeuvre d’un cerveau complexe et virtuose. (LES INROCKUPTIBLES)

To be spoken of in the same breath as Queneau? Woo, I say. Woo.

They’re here…

Just a brief post to share some pictures of our two new kittens, Barney and Djanga. Some of you might remember I posted a photo of Djanga earlier in the year, when everyone thought she was a he and so her name was Django. Now very much unchained, we brought her home last Monday and her ‘step brother’ Barnaby arrived on Saturday.

Djanga is ENORMOUS, even for a Maine Coon – it’s almost impossible to believe she’s just fourteen weeks old. Barney may be a little smaller, but he seems determined to make up for it by being louder and as someone who’s shared her life with four Siamese cats in the past I can confirm that he’s absolutely typical of the breed, i.e already bent on world domination. Both cats are remarkable – confident, intelligent, responsive and hugely affectionate. We’re especially proud of the way they’ve each accepted their surrogate litter-mate. Following a somewhat tense 48-hour standoff, they’re now a team. Perhaps we should have called them Bonnie and Clyde…

See what I mean? World domination.

Criminal tendencies, definitely.

The Race to NewCon

A day or so before setting off for CelsiusCon I had a rather exciting phone call. The person on the line was Ian Whates, founder and director of NewCon Press. He was calling to say he’d just finished reading my novel The Race and wanted to discuss it with me. To cut a long story short, Ian loves the book, and we’ve now agreed a deal for NewCon to publish it. The novel will be released next summer, with an official launch at the Worldcon in London.

To say I’m over the moon about this is something of an understatement. This book has been a long time coming, it’s very close to my heart, and contains the best of my writing to date. It’s genuinely thrilling to know that people are finally going to get the chance to read it.

Equally thrilling is Ian’s enthusiasm for the book, his obvious commitment to publishing it with love and care. Ian has published stories of mine before, including my collection Microcosmos for NewCon Press’s Imaginings series, so he clearly knew something of what he would be getting when he opened the manuscript. But when we spoke on the phone, one of the first (and most pleasing) things Ian said to me was that even if he’d never read a word of my stuff before, reading The Race would have convinced him on the spot.

The world of publishing today is fraught with problems. Cutbacks in the support industries (publishers’ readers, sales reps, in-house copyediting) and a general unease and uncertainty around the changes wrought by the introduction of new media are certainly not helping, but the biggest hurdle faced by new novelists, it seems to me, is the general risk-averseness of the larger publishers. I sometimes get the feeling that commissioning editors for the big houses don’t really want to mess with novelty, they want more of the same thing they bought last week, only slightly different. A product they know already they can sell, in other words. And so bland orthodoxies are born.

I do have some sympathy with their predicament. Having worked at the selling end of the book industry for some years, I know something of the devilish difficulty that exists in persuading punters to take a chance on a new name, a new imprint, a new approach to writing. I’m certainly not one of those writers who insist that the ‘big boys’ are out to get them, to suppress new talent and innovation wherever they find it, because that’s clearly rubbish, a sentiment too often expressed by those who haven’t yet perfected their end of the deal – the damned book, in other words – sufficiently to have it seriously considered as a publishable prospect. But there is a certain nervousness abroad, particularly at the edge of genre, that can feel frustrating when you encounter it, a conservatism that’s just a little too… conservative.

That’s why having the support of a publisher like NewCon Press is such a valuable gift. Ian Whates knows the genre and he knows the business. I know he’ll do great things for The Race, and I sincerely hope The Race will do great things for him.

I’ve created a new page for The Race here at this site, where you can read a brief outline of the novel and a bit about how it came to be written. I’ll be adding more details – cover images, pre-ordering information etc – as they become available.

Celsius 232

We’ve just returned from Aviles, in the Asturias region of Spain, after a very special weekend as guests of the festival of fantastic literature and film known as Celsius 232 (that’s Fahrenheit 451 in new money). We enjoyed a marvellous welcome from the festival’s organizers, and the level of interest and involvement on the part of those attending was exceptional. I was surprised and delighted to find that Stardust and Spin and The Silver Wind have all made their own small inroads into Spanish territory. German Menendez, who conducted the two-hander interview with me and Lauren Beukes on the Thursday, was amazingly well prepared and insightful, which made my first experience of appearing at an international festival a great pleasure as well as a privilege.

The highlight of the weekend for me though was meeting and talking with Spanish fans of my work and of fantastic literature generally, and I want to say a very special thank you to Yolanda, Sofia, both Susanas, Sergio, Felix and Pablo among many others for helping to make our time in Aviles so warmly memorable. (NB: you can read an interview I did with Yolanda Espineira here at Sense of Wonder.) Huge thanks also to Ian Watson and Cristina Macia for inviting us, and to our superhuman interpreter, Diego Garcia Cruz, without whom none of this would have been possible. It was a great gig.

After all, what could be better than watching Jason and the Argonauts on an open-air screen in a Spanish town on a summer’s evening, and finding out you’re still a little bit scared of Talos..?

 

 

 

Being interviewed by Yolanda - photo Chris Priest

Booker longlist announced

Well, that was interesting. Of the thirteen guesses I made, only one of them, Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries, turned out to be correct, and perhaps the best thing that can be said about this year’s Booker longlist is that it will have similarly confounded a lot of people’s expectations. A majority of the books here are by established writers – but not by writers whose names you’ll necessarily hear every day. This means that those who feel like making an educated guess about the shortlist and final result will all have something new to discover. Which can only be a good thing.

If there’s one huge area of disappointment it’s that there are no works of speculative fiction on this list. If you’re into statistics at all, you’ll see that actually makes it less progressive than last year’s list, which featured Sam Thompson’s amazing Communion Town and Ned Beauman’s The Teleportation Accident, both of which made fascinating and varied use of speculative ideas. If you felt like stretching the point you might also include Alison Moore’s The Lighthouse in that tally, as it has a distinctly slipstream vibe.

There’s nothing like that this year. I suppose you could include Jim Crace’s Harvest, sort of – the fact that I’ve never found myself particularly excited by Crace’s brand of fabulation is most likely my fault and not his.

I’m flabbergasted not to see Nick Royle’s First Novel make an appearance. All in all, I feel curiously deflated by this list, which feels more conservative to me in terms of subject and form than it might seem at first sight.

The novel I’m far and away most excited about here is Richard House’s The Kills. I’d heard of this vaguely prior to seeing it longlisted, but didn’t know much about it. On reading the synopsis – it’s a novel in four novels, a crime story within a crime story within a crime story – my first thought was ‘wow, it sounds as if Richard House has read Roberto Bolano!’ I was delighted, on reading an interview with House, to discover that this is indeed the case and that The Kills was inspired, among many other things, by House’s reading of 2666. I ordered the book straight away and can’t wait to read it.

I’ll also be looking forward to Eleanor Catton’s The Luminaries. Catton’s first novel, The Rehearsal, did amazing things with what on the face of it sounded like a conventional idea based around a high school teacher-pupil affair scandal, Reading it was a genuine surprise, one of those fabulous moments in a reading life where you find your own expectations subverted utterly, and all you can do is bounce around in your seat thinking ‘bravo!’ The Luminaries looks like being similarly ambitious, and I feel certain that I’ll love it, just from the incisive and ironical self awareness of Catton’s writing.

Is the rest of it all a bit trad Booker though or is that just that my own particular literary interests don’t jibe with the judges’?

Perhaps I’ll change my mind in the coming days.

 

Get to know the Booker longlist here.

And do read this excellent interview with Richard House here.

 

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2025 The Spider's House

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑