someone gimme recs, please?
7 Sep 2008 01:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaigouBeen looking through the urban-fantasy genre again to see what's new recently, and I'm getting cranky (again) about the non-boolean searches on Amazon. Let's pretend you well-read folks are my search engine. Here's my terms:
find "urban fantasy" NOT vampires NOT werewolves NOT paranormal
Also, to clarify...
Charles DeLint: I started out reading everything by him until... Well, I can only handle so much phantom income among only-pretending-to-starve artists and a bevy of pre-raphaelite beauties before I maxed out. Too romanticized. Even DeLint's dirt is pretty.
Megan Lindholm/Robin Hobb: first, Lindholm's co-authored work with Stephen Brust was puzzling at the start, annoying-baffling by the middle, and so messily-incoherent by the three-quarter mark that I never actually finished. On top of that, I so strongly disagree with Hobb's rantiferous stance on certain *cough* issues that way I see it, I feel no compunction to contribute to her bank statement. That's not meant as a vociferous anti-Hobb statement so much as recognition that I just only got so much money to spread around, so I'd prefer to spend it on authors whose works -- fictional and essayistic -- are ones I want to support.
Stephen Brust: many of the complaints I had about his co-authored work, I've found to be true of his solo works. Just not my cup of tea, I suppose.
LKHamilton, Anne Rice: I've already covered this, I believe. Though I must add that I'm starting to suspect Stephanie Meyers or whatever-her-name-is may already be showing signs of uncurable, advanced, RHD.
Simon Green: a lot of people try to copy Raymond Chandler's inimitable style. A few actually manage it. Green is not one of them... and I'll go read the real thing, any day, rather than suffer through another self-important mediocre attempt like that.
I liked Jim Butcher's work, but eventually burned out on it. Tanya Huff has good characters, bad sense of suspense; equally burned out. I enjoyed Lilith Saintcrow's first three Watchers books but couldn't get into the Valentine series; Majorie Liu had me for awhile but again, burned out after book three. (This seems to be a theme, for me.) Moving into more traditional fantasy, I ripped through Flewelling's series but again, no interest in reading past book three... yeah, definite theme. Hrm.
Werewolves. I am so freaking sick of werewolves, and I include foxes, coyotes, wolves, dingos, and any other canid varieties in that, along with lions, tigers, panthers, and leopards. I would be willing to read any shapeshifter work in which the bulk of hte attention is on, I dunno, rhinoceros-shapeshifters. Or maybe giraffe-shapeshifters. Possibly flying-squirrel shapeshifters. But enough already with the predators, especially those whose intricate behavioral psychology has been bastardized into over-romanticized, unresearched, simplistic pop-culture versions.
Vampires. Sick, sick, sick, freaking sick of vampires. Okay, I get that some authors are -- well, it's more of a back-to-the-root drift, and not a real twist on the Rice/Hamilton vampire-as-romantic-figure, since vampires were originally quite horrific and disgusting. Still. If you're going to buck the trend and say "vampires are scary-bad-icky," why not just, oh, I don't know, be creative and come up with some other fantastical big bad? There are plenty of other boogeymen out there who'll rip you limb from limb and bathe in your blood. Authors, try being a little more creative. The brooding-vamp in black-leather has been done, done, done, and the rotting-vamp in old-clothes was already done when Dracula was written.
Angels/devils. Boring... mostly because to include such requires the author posit a world with a) some kind of divine entity, and b) some kind of anti-divine entity. Even those storylines in which there are demons are still storylines with the underlying assumption of a Right against which these guys are Wrong, and if I want that kind of black-and-white, I'll just reread Tolkein. Not to mention the difficulty of angels, themselves, by definition being employees of an omniscient and/or omnipotent power. It creates a paradox in characterization that very few writers are good enough to avoid -- it's not the author's fault, it's the fact that they're pre-empting for action a trope which is to a great degree defined by lack-of-free-will.
And lastly (I think):
Paranormal vs fantasy. This isn't widespread, but it's how I define it. Paranormal, or supernatural, or occult, seems to connote those things which are human, but not entirely. They're more than normal, more than natural; they're not a not-natural. Paranormal indicates the fantastical element has a human basis: werewolves are, for a certain part of the time (and often as an origin), really quite human. Vampires started out as human and got infected. Witches are humans who've learned to practice magic. Ghosts were also once human; psychics are fully human but with extra skills heaped on top.
In a paranormal story, the magic that's present is a potential element of humanity: you could start out everyday human but get bit by the wrong love interest and whammo, you're hairy, or allergic to strong light. Etc. The paranormal has its roots in fables and folklore that carries a buried moral of "this is what happens when good people go very bad." The vampire, the werewolf, the witch: when humans go feral, lose their moral compass, break away from polite society: that's the message from fable and folklore.
In a fantasy story, the fantasical elements have an origin that's fully non-human. You can't wake up one morning and find out you're an elf (except those few stories that pull the "you were aprincess changeling and never knew it" line). Sure, fantasy may have humans who've learned to use, or co-opt, the non-human magic in some way but the fundamental source is definitely non-human, separate, distinct: elves, kappa, devi, talking snakes, whatever. That's fairytales and myths, where the source and power is external, the active forces may mingle with humans but remains an Other, where the message is that gods and demons and other powerful beings walk among us, or fear us, or even just toy with us: creatures whose motivations and culture and understanding we could never truly comprehend.
Stories like Harry Potter, I guess, are a blend: you could be human and learn you have some kind of magical ability, but most of the books (that I read, at least) seem to imply that this magical ability is to some degree innate. You can't truly cross over into the fantasical without already being not-entirely-human yourself. That is, an everyday muggle couldn't drink the right thing or be chomped on a picnic and suddenly have speshul powerz. Mostly.
Butcher's series are kind of a blend, as well, given that he's got vampires and werewolves but also elves and whatever-other-else of the fantastical Other type. It's not actually that common, from what I've seen. Hell, for that matter, it doesn't always even seem to work, either. The underlying assumptions of each are quite different, and depending on the storyline, the conflict, the setting, the author's skill even, the contrast can work, or it can be jarring. Butcher gets it sometimes and then other times there's a sense of dissonance. For me, at least, but maybe my extensive reading and love of analytical chocolate cake may be exacerbating my sensitivity to it.
In nutshell, for analogy.
Paranormal: a person could conceivably one day realize his/her homosexuality -- via introspection, exposure, whatever -- upon accepting this, the person would now conceivably be a full member of a homosexual community. (If that bothers you, try "born again" religionist: you have an ephiphany, or spend the day at a tent revival for your dose of 'infection' and afterwards you are welcomed in as member.) For all intents and purposes, starting out as a not-that does not in any way negate one's potential to be fully-that upon recognition, infection, acceptance, whatever.
Fantasy? I will never, ever wake up and discover that I am now of Asian descent. I will always be of my genetic heritage, and I will never speak Mandarin like a native. I will never pass as a born-member of that culture or language, even if I spent my life trying. That's the fantastical, the fully-distinct Other. In paranormal, the human protagonist could grasp that more-than power as his/her own; in fantasy, you might be able to marry it, but it won't ever be yours.
Paranormal, done right, can explore questions about discrimination, bigotry, conflict based on what are now-opposing viewpoints of what may have once been shared views. Paranormal works pivot on the question of division when human diverges from human into non-human or more-than-human.
Supernatural explores the same questions but comes at it from the opposite side: can those who originate in utterly different cultures, with completely different skill and knowledge and power sets, even utterly different worlds, ever see eye-to-eye? Are we always fated to be separate, or can we ever achieve any kind of communion?
Oh, and YA? No. Just no. I do not mind non-adult protagonists; I do mind storylines geared towards adolescent mindsets. I'm an adult. I prefer to read books that speak to me as an adult, in an adult's voice, thanks.
find "urban fantasy" NOT vampires NOT werewolves NOT paranormal
Also, to clarify...
Charles DeLint: I started out reading everything by him until... Well, I can only handle so much phantom income among only-pretending-to-starve artists and a bevy of pre-raphaelite beauties before I maxed out. Too romanticized. Even DeLint's dirt is pretty.
Megan Lindholm/Robin Hobb: first, Lindholm's co-authored work with Stephen Brust was puzzling at the start, annoying-baffling by the middle, and so messily-incoherent by the three-quarter mark that I never actually finished. On top of that, I so strongly disagree with Hobb's rantiferous stance on certain *cough* issues that way I see it, I feel no compunction to contribute to her bank statement. That's not meant as a vociferous anti-Hobb statement so much as recognition that I just only got so much money to spread around, so I'd prefer to spend it on authors whose works -- fictional and essayistic -- are ones I want to support.
Stephen Brust: many of the complaints I had about his co-authored work, I've found to be true of his solo works. Just not my cup of tea, I suppose.
LKHamilton, Anne Rice: I've already covered this, I believe. Though I must add that I'm starting to suspect Stephanie Meyers or whatever-her-name-is may already be showing signs of uncurable, advanced, RHD.
Simon Green: a lot of people try to copy Raymond Chandler's inimitable style. A few actually manage it. Green is not one of them... and I'll go read the real thing, any day, rather than suffer through another self-important mediocre attempt like that.
I liked Jim Butcher's work, but eventually burned out on it. Tanya Huff has good characters, bad sense of suspense; equally burned out. I enjoyed Lilith Saintcrow's first three Watchers books but couldn't get into the Valentine series; Majorie Liu had me for awhile but again, burned out after book three. (This seems to be a theme, for me.) Moving into more traditional fantasy, I ripped through Flewelling's series but again, no interest in reading past book three... yeah, definite theme. Hrm.
Werewolves. I am so freaking sick of werewolves, and I include foxes, coyotes, wolves, dingos, and any other canid varieties in that, along with lions, tigers, panthers, and leopards. I would be willing to read any shapeshifter work in which the bulk of hte attention is on, I dunno, rhinoceros-shapeshifters. Or maybe giraffe-shapeshifters. Possibly flying-squirrel shapeshifters. But enough already with the predators, especially those whose intricate behavioral psychology has been bastardized into over-romanticized, unresearched, simplistic pop-culture versions.
Vampires. Sick, sick, sick, freaking sick of vampires. Okay, I get that some authors are -- well, it's more of a back-to-the-root drift, and not a real twist on the Rice/Hamilton vampire-as-romantic-figure, since vampires were originally quite horrific and disgusting. Still. If you're going to buck the trend and say "vampires are scary-bad-icky," why not just, oh, I don't know, be creative and come up with some other fantastical big bad? There are plenty of other boogeymen out there who'll rip you limb from limb and bathe in your blood. Authors, try being a little more creative. The brooding-vamp in black-leather has been done, done, done, and the rotting-vamp in old-clothes was already done when Dracula was written.
Angels/devils. Boring... mostly because to include such requires the author posit a world with a) some kind of divine entity, and b) some kind of anti-divine entity. Even those storylines in which there are demons are still storylines with the underlying assumption of a Right against which these guys are Wrong, and if I want that kind of black-and-white, I'll just reread Tolkein. Not to mention the difficulty of angels, themselves, by definition being employees of an omniscient and/or omnipotent power. It creates a paradox in characterization that very few writers are good enough to avoid -- it's not the author's fault, it's the fact that they're pre-empting for action a trope which is to a great degree defined by lack-of-free-will.
And lastly (I think):
Paranormal vs fantasy. This isn't widespread, but it's how I define it. Paranormal, or supernatural, or occult, seems to connote those things which are human, but not entirely. They're more than normal, more than natural; they're not a not-natural. Paranormal indicates the fantastical element has a human basis: werewolves are, for a certain part of the time (and often as an origin), really quite human. Vampires started out as human and got infected. Witches are humans who've learned to practice magic. Ghosts were also once human; psychics are fully human but with extra skills heaped on top.
In a paranormal story, the magic that's present is a potential element of humanity: you could start out everyday human but get bit by the wrong love interest and whammo, you're hairy, or allergic to strong light. Etc. The paranormal has its roots in fables and folklore that carries a buried moral of "this is what happens when good people go very bad." The vampire, the werewolf, the witch: when humans go feral, lose their moral compass, break away from polite society: that's the message from fable and folklore.
In a fantasy story, the fantasical elements have an origin that's fully non-human. You can't wake up one morning and find out you're an elf (except those few stories that pull the "you were a
Stories like Harry Potter, I guess, are a blend: you could be human and learn you have some kind of magical ability, but most of the books (that I read, at least) seem to imply that this magical ability is to some degree innate. You can't truly cross over into the fantasical without already being not-entirely-human yourself. That is, an everyday muggle couldn't drink the right thing or be chomped on a picnic and suddenly have speshul powerz. Mostly.
Butcher's series are kind of a blend, as well, given that he's got vampires and werewolves but also elves and whatever-other-else of the fantastical Other type. It's not actually that common, from what I've seen. Hell, for that matter, it doesn't always even seem to work, either. The underlying assumptions of each are quite different, and depending on the storyline, the conflict, the setting, the author's skill even, the contrast can work, or it can be jarring. Butcher gets it sometimes and then other times there's a sense of dissonance. For me, at least, but maybe my extensive reading and love of analytical chocolate cake may be exacerbating my sensitivity to it.
In nutshell, for analogy.
Paranormal: a person could conceivably one day realize his/her homosexuality -- via introspection, exposure, whatever -- upon accepting this, the person would now conceivably be a full member of a homosexual community. (If that bothers you, try "born again" religionist: you have an ephiphany, or spend the day at a tent revival for your dose of 'infection' and afterwards you are welcomed in as member.) For all intents and purposes, starting out as a not-that does not in any way negate one's potential to be fully-that upon recognition, infection, acceptance, whatever.
Fantasy? I will never, ever wake up and discover that I am now of Asian descent. I will always be of my genetic heritage, and I will never speak Mandarin like a native. I will never pass as a born-member of that culture or language, even if I spent my life trying. That's the fantastical, the fully-distinct Other. In paranormal, the human protagonist could grasp that more-than power as his/her own; in fantasy, you might be able to marry it, but it won't ever be yours.
Paranormal, done right, can explore questions about discrimination, bigotry, conflict based on what are now-opposing viewpoints of what may have once been shared views. Paranormal works pivot on the question of division when human diverges from human into non-human or more-than-human.
Supernatural explores the same questions but comes at it from the opposite side: can those who originate in utterly different cultures, with completely different skill and knowledge and power sets, even utterly different worlds, ever see eye-to-eye? Are we always fated to be separate, or can we ever achieve any kind of communion?
Oh, and YA? No. Just no. I do not mind non-adult protagonists; I do mind storylines geared towards adolescent mindsets. I'm an adult. I prefer to read books that speak to me as an adult, in an adult's voice, thanks.
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Date: 7 Sep 2008 07:13 pm (UTC)