VoodooPad is pretty fun and easy to use. To create a new page you just select some text, click the “link” button, and start typing away when the new page is generated. Couldn’t be simpler. So far I’ve done really super-basic pages on the geography of the city-state of Searoyal and a couple of characters and important organizations. I’ll have to take some time to compile what I’ve got in my notes already and add it in.

Speaking of compilation, I’ve got a huge plastic tub full of old writing and other papers and notebooks that need sorting, and in many cases, junking. I’m trying to put behind me old stuff that I know is going nowhere, and organize the current stuff so I can work more effectively. I’ve got notes on Searoyal in every corner of this apartment, exploding from bookcases, letter pockets and my purse, just to mention a few places, and I could really do with adding some method to this madness. I have a cunning plan to set that all in motion . . .

In the world of The Ruby Key, humans must do their work during the daytime, from sunrise to sunset, for the dark is the domain of the nightlings, and there is a covenant in place to keep that law. Gemma, a human, and her brother Dan enter the forest in secret at night, to gather the magical sap of a taandu tree in the hopes that it will cure their mother of a sickness that is spreading over their village (the symptoms of which resemble senility or mental illness). On their covert night-time foray into the woods—the realm of the nightlings—they are met by Yarri, a nightling slave, who tells them that “Uncle” Banris, the man who seeks their mother’s hand in marriage, has broken a deal with the nightling kai-lord, and that’s why so many villagers are sick and dying: he promised human slaves, daylight taandu sap and purple dye in exchange for immortality and the power to rule, and failed to deliver. Now the kai-lord is meting out his punishment on the villagers.

Gemma goes to the kai-lord in order to present a new deal to him. In exchange for Yarri’s help, Yarri tells her she must ask the kai-lord for one thing in addition to the safety of her village and her mother’s life: The Ruby Key. Gemma doesn’t know what this is, but when she asks for it, the kai-lord is angered and makes an almost impossible request: She must find a child named Doyati who frequents the moonroads, dangerous and magical roads that might send a traveller anywhere.

It doesn’t take long for Gemma to realize her efforts to bring Doyati back are hopeless. The reader senses it too. And yet Gemma keeps moving forward, knowing that she must, even if there’s no chance for her at all. There is never a moment in The Ruby Key when you feel certain that everything—or anything—will turn out in the heroes’ favour. But at the same time, you sense that in a world like this, anything can happen, and the mysterious cat and the moonroads add to that feeling of unexpected danger and kindle the hope of a sudden turn for the better (it’s a page-turner for sure). This book has a depth to it that I have rarely experienced in young adult books; this fantasy setting is touched by real-world troubles though the problems themselves are as foreign as faerie. Do we help strangers even when it costs us dearly? Do we keep pressing on when we know it’s right, even if we know we’ll fail?

There are ghostly armies, a talking cat (who is certainly more than a cat), roads of light that lead to deadly wastelands, hints at a secret history, and monsters both ugly and beautiful. The story itself is simple, and takes place on a rather small, closed stage compared to much Fantasy literature. In the end, that stage opens up into the wide world, and a new reality opens up for the characters that they had never dreamed, one that echoes events in our own world and yet is still wholly “other”.

This book is the first of a series, and I’m waiting for the next book, The Silver Door, with an anticipation I haven’t felt since I finished the first Harry Potter. The Ruby Key resonated with me on a deeper level than many other YA series I’ve tried in years. I sense the start of a great series here!

[EDIT: In the interest of accuracy, J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. have only filed suit against RDR Books, small press publisher of The Harry Potter Lexicon.]

It’s true that we writers borrow words from each other, but we’re supposed to admit it and not pretend we’re original when we’re not. I took the word ansible from Ursula K. LeGuin, and have always said so. Rowling, however, denies everything.

This reminds me of something that has bugged me for a long time about Rowling. There are certain books (The Chronicles of Narnia for instance) that in the early days of her fame she would express affection for, but which she would later sneer at when her books became too often compared to them. She is often quoted as saying there are seven books in the Harry Potter series because there are seven books in The Chronicles of Narnia, and in 1998 Helena de Bertanado of the Electronic Telegraph writes:

She loved C. S. Lewis and E. Nesbit, but was not such a fan of Roald Dahl. As for the Enid Blyton books, Rowling says she read them all, but was never tempted to go back to them, whereas she would read and re-read Lewis. “Even now, if I was in a room with one of the Narnia books I would pick it up like a shot and re-read it.”

But in 2005, Time reports:

She hasn’t even read all of C.S. Lewis’ Narnia novels, which her books get compared to a lot. There’s something about Lewis’ sentimentality about children that gets on her nerves. “There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She’s become irreligious basically because she found sex,” Rowling says. “I have a big problem with that.”

(Totally beside my point at present is that this is a very weak interpretation of the text: It’s not that Susan “found sex”; it’s that she became a materialist. Jill Pole is the only character who mentions lipstick, nylons etc. It’s clear from what other characters say that she stopped believing in Narnia.)

So Rowling is either a liar or has memory loss. It seems to me that once the comparisons made her uncomfortable, she changed her story. It’s telling, I think, that any time it’s implied that she may have been influenced by some book or another, she conveniently has never read it. She’s never finished The Lord of the Rings, apparently, or read Diana Wynne Jones, or very many other authors who get brought up in her interviews. Seems a bit odd that someone who makes a living writing has read so little.

I’m not accusing J.K. Rowling of plagiarism here. What I think is happening is that in her drive to appear “original”, she’s misleading the public. Even more hypocritical, she then turns around and sues Steve Vander Ark, to whom she once gave an award for a webpage that is essentially the same work she’s suing him over, for merely creating a reference companion to her novels, a normal literary practice.

I still love Harry Potter and will continue to enjoy re-reading the books, but I’ve certainly lost a lot of respect for Rowling since this fiasco began, though I’ve always been willing to go to bat for her in the past. It’s sad, and I wonder how many others of her fans feel the same.

A couple days late, but here they are! Following are reviews written by Mythopoeic Award Challenge participants from April 1st to April 30th.

NOTE: If you are a participant and would like me to link to your review, please make sure to link the review from your book list, or tag it “mythopoeic award challenge” or similar if you have tagging capabilities. Alternately, you can post a link to it in the comments of any post on my blog. This will make it easier for me to find your review. Thank you!

These reviews may contain plot spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Becky reviews Stardust by Neil Gaiman, Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt, and Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley.

Darla reviews Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman and The Amulet of Samarkand.

Joanna reviews The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood.

Kim reviews Sunshine by Robin McKinley.

Megan reviews The Line Between by Peter S. Beagle.

Meiran reviews Tithe and Valiant by Holly Black.

Nymeth reviews The Young Merlin Trilogy by Jane Yolen.

Rhinoa reviews Briar Rose by Jane Yolen.

Susan reviews Inkheart by Cornelia Funke.

*****

If I missed your review, let me know in the comments and I’ll add it!

From Becky’s post:

January 2008-December 2008

Options: Read two C.S. Lewis books (fiction or nonfiction) and/or watch films based on his life or his works. In addition, read two books by J.R.R. Tolkien and/or watch films based on his works. Biographies of the two men would also work. Also reading the two books by James A. Owen that feature these two as fictional characters would work. The books are Here There Be Dragons and Search for Red Dragon.

(There are some exceptions, qualifications and whatnot; if you want to see them, go read the challenge post!)

My list:

1. Miracles by C.S. Lewis.
2. The Children of Hurin by J.R.R. Tolkien.
3. The Road to Middle Earth by Tom Shippey.
4. Here There Be Dragons by James A. Owen.

EDIT: I just changed my list, hehe. Becky included Here There Be Dragons on the challenge list, and apparently it features Lewis, Tolkien and Charles Williams as characters? MUST READ. I also decided Splintered Light didn’t really count as a biography (I was being cheap, so sue me!) Since I read A Severe Mercy so recently, I thought I’d read two Tolkien-related works instead of two Lewises.

It’s harder in Fantasy than in any other genre, I think, to avoid the feeling of deus ex machina in the ending. I mean, the magic has to happen, you know? And I don’t really believe characters should be totally self-reliant, proving their mettle by how much butt they can kick. I find that sort of autonomy unrealistic and not very admirable. Fantasy is a metaphor for real life, and at least in my experience, in real life we do often have to rely on others, and that often takes more inner strength than trying to do things in our own power. It’s human nature: we want the credit, we want to prove we can do it, that we didn’t need anyone else. Even more difficult is being totally reliant on God. . . . Nobody wants to do that. I think characters who keep trudging on when hope is lost, relying on others and on a Power ouside their own, expresses a far deeper truth than, “Believe in yourself! You can do it!”

The difficulty is bringing those other, often magical elements into the story’s climax without giving the impression of a God-In-a-Box. I’m not sure I’m able to do that adequately.

On a related note, I’ve been struggling with this question: In a Fantasy story, what is the difference between magic and miracles? Does magic in a tale preclude the co-existence of the miraculous?

Something tells me that I need to look at the conflict in question through the villain’s eyes, to see what the villain would do, the lengths they would go to in order to win, and that I’ll find my defining image there. That’s a toughie for me. Even after receiving pointed remarks personally from Holly Lisle in one of her Q&A emails, I’m having trouble with this whole “get into your villain’s head” issue. Holly doesn’t know, I am all sunshine and bunnies! (Well, except to people who think they can be rude to me because I’m short. For them, NO MERCY.)

I may need to write my ending first. Usually, things come clear when I write at least a sketch of my ending. Maybe I’ll write it from the villain’s point-of-view this time? That way, not only do I have the villain’s perspective, but it won’t be the same scene I actually write in the end so I won’t feel like I’ve told the story already. Now there’s an idea . . .

Today’s Booking Through Thursday:

Do your reading habits change in the Spring? Do you read gardening books? Even if you don’t have a garden? More light fiction than during the Winter? Less? Travel books? Light paperbacks you can stick in a knapsack?

Or do you pretty much read the same kinds of things in the Spring as you do the rest of the year?

I haven’t noticed a difference. I’m heading into a phase where I’m reading a lot more fiction than non-fiction, but I think that may be out of necessity rather than a seasonal adjustment. I’ve read so many history books for research that I’m just plain tired of them for now (I’m sure this is temporary), and it’s been so long since I read a lot of fiction, that I’m starving for some entertainment. I suppose, if anything, in Spring I tend to want to read shorter books in general, but since I’m tackling my To-Be-Read pile I don’t think I can be choosy. I’m going to finish up Orphans of Chaos next, which is of moderate length, but after that I’m reading Spirit Gate, since Shadow Gate is out now. After that it’s Talyn so I can read Hawkspar when it comes out. Then, I think, Hood so I can read Scarlet, which I’m reading for the What’s In a Name Challenge (see a pattern here?) So whatever I may wish, I’m not looking at a slim, streamlined reading list for Spring.

I think I need some new writing music. My iTunes Writing Playlist tells me that I have 11+ hours of music, but I still need more. The problem, I think, is that too much of my playlist is made up of movie soundtracks from films that strongly resonate with me.

Here’s what I mean: While I’m writing a scene of conflict between the elves and humans of Searoyal, suddenly “Concerning Hobbits” will begin to play, and all I can see are Frodo and the gang skipping around and dancing with Rosie Cotton. Or while I’m writing a touching scene between two characters who have yearned for each other since they met, “Hedwig’s Theme” filters through my headphones, and an owl flies in and drops a Hogwarts Letter on the heroine’s lap. Not exactly romantic.

I can listen to some movie soundtracks while I write. Stargate and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon work especially well. I think it depends on how thematic the music is, how strongly it evokes the images from the film. If I instantly start seeing pictures from the movie in my head, it gets confusing. Not exclusively related to soundtracks is the effect of the mood and tone of the music. Music that is rather dark or somber doesn’t seem to affect my happy scenes, but music that’s too joyful can stop a dark scene in its tracks.

I’ve heard Transformers has a pretty good soundtrack for listening-while-you-write. I think music from historical dramas like Elizabeth in general would be good. I can listen to music with lyrics; I’m fairly good at tuning the words out. World music—especially from the British Isles—seems to work phenomenally. Johan gave me some Babylon 5 music recently so hopefully that’ll work out.