Adrian Tchaikovsky 388 pages Orbit (2024)
Read this if you like: unique alien ecosystems, Rick Claypool, Vernor Vinge
tl;dr summary: Political prisoners in an Orwellian dystopia are sent to a labor camp on Kiln, a planet where the life is aggressively symbiotic and potentially sentient.
I've been watching two ghost-centered TV shows of late. Ironically, the one with the punnier name (School Spirits) is a kind of mystery/thriller drama, while the more straightforward-titled Ghost is the sitcom. There are other differences between the shows, too. The characters in School Spirits are mostly teens (or were teens when they died, in the ghosts' case) which adds a coming-of-age, YA kind of feel to the show. In Ghosts, the central characters are living married couple Sam and Jay, whose ages aren't specifically stated that I recall but who are generally in that “early adulthood” range, and have more adult-ey kinds of problems. The ghosts are broadly adult, too, and while some of them were on the “young and stupid” side when they died, none are portrayed as having been kids.
[Note: This post contains minor spoilers for School Spirits for those who aren't caught up through season 2 and care about such things (and I suppose for Ghosts, too, inasmuch as a sitcom can have spoilers).]
Leech Girl Lives Rick Claypool 307 pages Space Boy Books (2017)
Read this if you like: Philip K. Dick, high-tech dystopias, creature horror
tl;dr summary: Woman on far-future fungus-infested Earth gets leeches for arms, uses them to save humanity.
I’m currently reading Muraski Shikibu’s The Tale of Genji—or the first volume of it, at least, which I think is probably where I’ll stop for the time being, considering the burgeoning height of my TBR stack.
For those unfamiliar with it, The Tale of Genji is often cited as the world’s first novel, written in the 11th century by a Japanese noblewoman. Its main value for modern historians is its depiction of court life during the Heian period of Japan, as the events in the book are thought to have been based very closely on Murasaki’s real-life experiences as a lady-in-waiting.
While it’s called the first novel, The Tale of Genji doesn’t completely hold to what modern readers would expect from the form. It does have characters who recur throughout, and the primary protagonist (Hikaru Genji, son of Emperor Kiritsubo) does age, grow, and change over the course of the plot. I’m using the term “plot” loosely here, though, because the book doesn’t have the tight cause-and-effect type of forward momentum we expect from novels today. Instead, it has more the feel of an episodic TV show—there are threads that run across multiple chapters, but the arc is more a series of humps than an overarching narrative. Other essential features of storytelling today are used, but in a way that modern novelists (and readers) would look askance at, like its cast of roughly 400 characters. Comparing it to modern novels is an intriguing study in how the form has developed over the centuries.
A lot of the mythological and fantasy creatures that have endured in cultural awareness are European in origin—things like fairies, elves, dwarfs, mermaids, or ancient Greek mythological creatures like gorgons, sirens, harpies, or cyclopes.
Using these familiar creatures in your fiction has advantages. Your readers have likely already heard of them, in some form, so they come into the story with some background and details already in mind and you don’t have to provide as much description or explanation in the text.
That pre-knowledge can also be a kind of baggage, though, and could limit your creative freedom to use the beings the way that best suits the story. They can also run the danger of reading as cliché or referential.
And the truth is—these European-derived critters are just the tip of the iceberg. There are tons of other mythical and supernatural beings from all corners of the world and all eras of history.
I adore Star Trek. But one common (and fair) critique of the series is the fact that most of its alien characters are really just humans in a mask—and not just on a physical level. Many of the aliens in Star Trek generally act and think the exact same way that people do, and it’s far from the only universe that’s guilty of this. Star Wars has more weird-looking aliens, but a lot of them are still functionally humans. The Mon Calamari look like squids, for example, but they use the same spaceship controls and don’t seem to have issues breathing air.
I use a lot of non-human characters in my stories, so this question of what makes them truly feel like a distinct being—and not just a human in an alien suit—has been at the front of my mind lately. The key, I think, is ultimately in the worldbuilding. The writer has thought through the environment and culture these beings would live in, and that is reflected in how they look and act. This makes the details of their appearance or behavior feel purposeful, like they’re driven by an in-world logic.
Just about every culture has its share of monsters, and whether they’re slain by a hero or said to be still haunting the deepest, darkest, children-shouldn’t-go-there-iest parts of their landscape, these creatures can be excellent fodder for the storytelling imagination.
Part of my mission during my recent deep dive into world mythologies was to learn more about some of these lesser-known cryptids, critters, and beasties. Here are some of the ones that most tickled my fancy.
High fantasy has a long-standing tradition of borrowing from myth and religion, and anyone with even a surface knowledge of world mythology will see that right away reading Wheel of Time. I think I noticed some of this even when I read the books as a kid, but my current re-read coincides with a deep dive on world mythologies, making the familiar names and concepts stand out even more vividly than on my past reads through the series.
(Note: Thar be Wheel of Time book spoilers ahead—if you haven’t read the whole series and care about such things, probably best to stop reading now)
Last week’s post looked at the big-picture worldbuilding in the Wheel of Time: the magic system, the language, and how Robert Jordan established the physical and temporal reality. But every good worldbuilder knows reality is a product of specificity. You need to have rules for your world (and follow them), but the details you include are what bring the world to life.
Of course, in a world this size, there are a lot of details. In this post, I’ll focus on the ones that I see as the most distinctively Wheel of Time and the most interesting from a worldbuilding perspective.
(As with part 1, this post contains some spoilers for Wheel of Time books 1-7, so if you want to avoid those it’s best to stop reading now).