In this video, I’ll talk about the books I bought last week, how A SHINY FOR TRICK is doing now that it’s free, show off the hardcover proof of THE BLOOD OF NERYS, and talk about all of the work I’ve accomplished on ACHILLEA.
S.K. Balk lives in the frozen wasteland of Northern Michigan. She is the author of the dystopian medical sci-fi THE BLOOD OF NERYS (also available in print) and short fantasy A SHINY FOR TRICK (forever free for your entertainment!).
I have been -SO- busy. Doing what I am supposed to be doing and devoting my soul to the words.
Check out the #SamWIP category every Monday to hear about Sam’s current projects!
Today, I bought my first audiobook. Soon after, I bought the second. I’ve been working on my set aside love for reading. 2016 was better for that. 2017 is going to be even better. Part of my effort in fixing the deficiency is where I put books. I have books in every nook and cranny now. One by the bed, one in the bathroom, one at work for my breaks. Last year I bought my first smart phone, and I put books on my phone for when I get stuck places.
This year, I’m trying to expand into audiobooks. It lets me ‘read’ when I would be otherwise unable. I travel a lot for work, going 2-4 hours each way for meetings. I go to Iowa once a year and Chicago once a year. Audiobooks presented a logical choice. Add that to my growing distaste for the radio and my utter disgust for the state of politics.
I should have done this sooner, honestly.
I’ve been eyeballing The Slow Regard of Silent Things for quite a long time now. Honestly, the only reason I haven’t bought it already is solely because it’s short. The price tag on books being what it is, I didn’t want to shell out for a book I could finish in an hour. But I spend my book profits on non-practical things, so slightly expensive short books might have been something I would buy. I put Slow Regard in my shopping cart a few times, and then I took it back out.
This morning, the first Audiobook I downloaded for my two hour drive was The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe, another compendium of awesome I haven’t had the chance to read yet. Unfortunately, being 16+ hours long made it a long download, and I wasn’t going to be able to finish downloading it before I hit the road this morning.
It was the perfect moment for rash decisions.
Because I NEEDED a book on this drive, and I was already going to be late for my meeting. Suddenly, a 60 page novella didn’t look half bad. So I threw my hands in the air, said “Fuck it,” and shelled out the $15. It’s a three and a half hour audiobook. Perfect.
I downloaded Slow Regard this morning. I have already listened to it THREE TIMES.
It is breathtaking.
Patrick Rothfuss opens the book by telling you it’s probably a bad idea to buy it. Which is brilliant, because it already has the listener quirking an eyebrow and paying very close attention. Why does he even think this?
Slow Regard breaks every rule. It’s too short. It has no real plot. No real conflict. Very little dialogue. One character. It’s…what most people might consider tedious. Nonsense. Without purpose. It’s part of and yet not part of his popular series, The Kingkiller Chronicle, in that it concerns one of the books’ minor characters. But it doesn’t add anything to that plot. It doesn’t advance the plot. You don’t see the main character at all. And it is for these reasons that he cautions the prospective buyer to really think about their choices here.
This is, as he points out, a strange tale. A bit…different.
It’s about a girl, Auri, who lives beneath the university in a place she calls The Underthing. She is a free spirit. In a lot of ways she reminds me of characters like Luna Lovegood, Radical Edward, or Tersa from the Black Jewels trilogy. Something in her is not quite right. A little broken, but not altogether unhappy.
“To be so lovely and so lost. To be all answerful with all that knowing trapped inside. To be beautiful and broken.”
She lives in a world all her own. She sees things in ways others do not see. Mundane objects are personified. They have feelings. They might suggest or say things. All of them are special in some way.
“There was a door, but it was terribly bashful, so Auri politely pretended not to see it.”
She travels around the Underthing, usually running and barefoot, to set things in their proper place and search for proper gifts for ‘him.’ It is obsessive and yet sweet. Objects might be fickle and change their minds about things. They might become angry and want to be moved. They might be restless and need to be used. Some become ‘free to go,’ and can be taken. But Auri would never take something that is not ready to leave, even if she wants it very badly for herself.
What I find intriguing about Auri the most–because I have read the books–is how the true power of Auri is hinted at, only just, throughout. She used to be, I gather, an incredibly talented student at the university until something happened that dramatically changed her life. She mentions the Masters often, remembering lessons from chemistry. Sometimes, she throws in a bit of knowledge about chemicals and their uses. It’s an interesting juxtaposition, the words hitting like a sledgehammer when they happen. She’s traversing tunnels, obeying the fickle whims of buttons and kissing snails, and then she thinks about iridium, or identifies the materials that are used to make a thing.
What makes this audiobook so particularly charming, in my opinion, is that Pat has taken it upon himself to be the narrator. Yes, he is reading his own book to you. Personally, I love that. It means he is telling the story exactly the way it is intended to be told, with the right pauses and emphases and everything.
I listened, more intent on this story than any story I have read in years. I sighed and swooned at the words. They are the loveliest of words. I appreciate the made-up words like ‘answerfull’ and how many adjectives inanimate objects can feel. Like ‘thuggish and terse,’ or ‘garrulous and bawdy.’ It might sound strange…but I could understand how she feels. Childlike. Oh, what a restless key, so in want of a lock! Yeah. That actually makes perfect sense. Keys should want locks. Or how she hesitates as she considers things (Maybe…but no. No, she knew better than that.)
When the book ended, I kept listening. I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I could have listened to this for many more hours than three and some.
Much to my beleaguered sadness, Pat used the end of the book to, in a way, apologize again. He tells the story of how he broke down to a friend (Vi) about how he thought his own story was a mess and how he couldn’t publish it. But his friend loved it, for the same reason I love it and so many others seem to as well. This is a story for us. For the artists who appreciate playful tales that just needed to come out. For a chance to sit in quiet awe and praise a brave work that breaks all of the rules and doesn’t apologize for it.
For being itself.
“It was wise enough to know itself, and brave enough to be itself, and wild enough to change itself while somehow staying altogether true.”
I keep talking about Pat because he is a wonderful human, and it bums me out that he ever feels like his words are simply not good enough to be shared. In his end note, he talks about his friend’s words and how they struck him as one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to him. About how someone else is already writing those books for other people who like books that have all of the things. THIS book is for people like ME. Actually, what she said was:
“Fuck those people. Those people have stories written for them all the time. What about me? Where’s the story for people like me?”
When he said this in his endnote, it hit me. Hard. Because that’s how I feel, all the time. I like to experience the unfiltered things that come straight from the heart of an artist. The raw, unrefined love that pours out onto a page when no one is watching. The art an artist makes for themselves, just to look upon and think, “Yeah. This is what I wanted to do all along.” But they don’t because they’re so focused on thinking about what everyone else wants that they set their own desires aside for a ‘later’ that never comes.
THIS is why Pat wrote it. And then when he did it, he knew that people would hate it. And some of them did. He was right about that.
But some of them didn’t. Some of them loved it.
“…one comment people have made over and over again and again, phrased many different ways, is this:
‘I don’t know what other people will think. They probably won’t like it. But I really enjoyed it.’
It’s strange to me how many people have said some version of that.”
This soared straight to the top of everything, guys. This just became my number one. It’s so perfectly lovely, so shy, so okay with itself. It’s a tiny piece of beauty that was created just so it could be. Something that existed just because it needed to.
This is what I scream about every time I come here. Do the things. Do the things you want like no one is hovering over you. There’s a time and a place for rules. This isn’t one.
He ends the book with something I usually find sickly-sweet and fake, but because it is Pat, I know he absolutely means it.
This story is for all the slightly broken people out there.
I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me.
I cried. After all those lovely, gentle words and the passionate account of how drunken Pat confessed that he thought people would just be purely pissed, and then this…yes, I cried. And I smiled because I was crying.
And then I did something I have never, ever done, not even once.
I restarted it from the beginning. Immediately.
Check out our #SundayReview category to find out what we are reading, watching, or learning about storytelling in all of its forms!
Deep in the drudgeries of Twitter, I discovered a lord of demons named Aeshma. In my quest to understand this demon, I uncovered more information about an old, old religion I’d never heard of that shares enough similarities with the religion I’ve built in ACHILLEA to freak me out.
The same thing happened to a friend of mine who accidentally wrote part of the Kalevala after the fact.
Beyond that, I have a lot to update you on about my projects and how much I’ve gotten done in the past week.
So this video covers the glimmers of Zoroastrianism in ACHILLEA, my editing on current projects, and the ten chapters I have read of EMERGENCE, as well as the new workspace.
Happy New Year to all of you! May 2017 be sweet to you.
Check out the #SamWIP category every Monday to hear about Sam’s current projects!
There are a lot of days now where I’m uncertain about the future of our world. It feels like the world is one feather away from collapsing upon itself sometimes. Tensions are rising between nations. It looks like there are foreign countries strengthening relationships. The U.S. isn’t everyone’s best friend. Our people are desperate.
I see the best of people and the worst of people, almost side by side. Today I read a thread on Facebook where someone in my community was looking to pay for someone to take her mother grocery shopping because she’s not able to drive, and almost thirty people offered to do it for free. I’ve seen a lot of similar posts for aging folks in our community who need help with shoveling lately, too.
And then, today in my town of residence, there was a news story about someone who stole Christmas presents from underneath a Christmas tree while the family was at the neighbor’s house.
I spend a lot of time thinking about the future. The economic situation seems precarious. Sometimes it feels as if any day will herald a horrific crash reminiscent of the housing crisis in 2008. I wonder if I’m ready for it when it comes. If the people I know are. I worry for my friends, family, and neighbors. I give a lot of myself to complete strangers through what I do for work. I take my responsibility very seriously.
Are we going to make it? Because what if we don’t? What if we lose everything?
Addressing the homeless problem has always been tough for me. I’d never seen homeless people when I was growing up. They were always here…but in places I never saw growing up because I never went to those areas. It was harder when I moved to the city. They’re much harder to ignore there. I see them with their signs at intersections. They ask me for change. When I first started to encounter struggling humans, I was too poor myself to help them.
I hate saying No. It was awkward for me to decline, but back then, I pretty much had to.
When I got to Pittsburgh (I lived there for a few years), I could help a little more. I gave a few dollars here and there for bus fare and such. It was also in Pittsburgh that I started to hear stories about how people made profits off pretending to be homeless, or how they’d just take your money to buy drugs and alcohol.
This upset me. That anyone would pretend they were poor so people would give them free money disgusted me. To prey on charity, while making those that truly need help look like greedy leeches? That’s awful. And I didn’t want to be part of the problem by giving people money to fall victim to their addictions either.
I was torn. After all, I still wanted to help.
I made the decision to offer things instead, rather than money. And whatever I’ve done for those in need has been geared this way ever since. Sometimes, too, I sit and talk with people a bit. I’m terrified, of course…I was raised to be paranoid about my health and safety, though sometimes I think this is wrong…but I’ve learned that a lot of people just need someone to listen. I can definitely do that.
But you know…even then…
I have a friend who jokes that I live “North of The Wall” (reference A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin). It gets bitterly cold up here. Temperatures are already falling to subzero numbers. I–HATE–being cold.
I could not imagine having to survive out there. I don’t care what lands a person on the street in the first place. The fact that anyone might be stuck out there in this frigid, barren wasteland frightens me a bit. Dying of exposure is a very real possibility.
I’m proud of my community, for stepping up. I’ve had the privilege to be involved with a lot of giving efforts, especially around the holidays. The people up here are pretty fantastic, all things considered. Seeing thirty people offer to take an old lady to the grocery store or help a different old lady keep her driveway clear or shovel her roof gives me a little hope. One of the people I play Pokemon Go with gathered up a bunch of winter coats, hates, gloves, scarves, etc. to give away downtown. She even made up a batch of chili to go with it. There are charity drives for blankets and coats and food.
Even in my small community, there are more than ninety people living on the street. That number shocked me. We’re not perfect, even here. We still can’t help our most vulnerable. I know more people than I thought I did that spent at least some time without a bed of their own.
I feel like this problem is one people like to ignore. It’s uncomfortable. It’s there, in front of us. It’s personal. It forces us to examine the contents of our soul, compare Haves and Have Nots. Makes us feel a little guilty for not suffering. To make assumptions about whether or not someone deserves a little help. Yeah. It’s a human thing. We aren’t perfect beings.
Christmas is a season of giving. For most people, that means presents. Gift giving and gift receiving. It’s also an important season for charity. Please don’t forget about our less fortunate. For a lot of people, it isn’t about the presents. It might not even be about food. Some people are just trying not to freeze to death.
Check out our #OurWorld category on Tuesdays to tune into some of the causes we think are important to raise awareness.