'The Poet' by Michael Connelly

Honestly, Michael Connelly books are kind of cheeseburgers for me. Even reading them occasionally is probably a bit too often. That said, we’re only human and sometimes a cheeseburger is exactly what you fancy.

While Bosch, The Lincoln Lawyer and now Ballard are the more well known characters, I always like thrillers with journalists as protagonists. Here, Jack McEvoy’s brother is a homicide detective who commits suicide… or does he? The reporter investigates and finds out that there’s more to this than meets the eye and so on and so on.

Really, I only mention it here because it came out in 1996 and it made me nostalgic for pre-internet technology. A major plot point centres around the use of a digital camera - an item so rare that it has to be ordered from a specialised dealer. Sending a fax from a computer is a key piece of evidence. McEvoy has a laptop computer and mentions it every chance he gets. There’s also a very unpleasant computer bulletin board system, which perhaps is a preview of the online horrors to come.

I don’t want to come across like a luddite - I’m posting this on the internet, after all - but there is something really soothing about not having an investigation based around looking things up online. As is often the case with these series of genre novels, there’s a little preview of another book in the series at the end of The Poet, set many years later and the protagonist goes on Instagram in the first twenty pages. Even our novels don’t have attention spans any more. I wonder how all this will date. I can’t help but think that the early 2010s stock line of dialogue, “It’s trending on twitter” will seem as hopelessly anachronistic as the 1990s thrillers that dedicated 30-40 seconds of screentime to a character using dialup internet. Perhaps we just need more time to pass and these things will seem cute and nostalgic.

Buy ‘The Poet’ by Michael Connelly at bookshop.org

I decided not to read 'Julia' by Sandra Newman

It might be good, but as an endeavour it feels like it’s moving us one step closer to the Orwell Cinematic Universe, and that’s something I can’t bring myself to contribute to, even with my time. (For the record, I’m not talking about a Burmese Days movie or the 1997 film adaptation of Keep The Aspidistra Flying, but rather the grim inevitability of a Winston Smith Jr. spin-off for young adults or a How I Became Big Brother prequel.)

I think my main reason for wanting to read it was a description of the novel-writing machines Julia works on, but in this instance it didn’t really scratch that itch.

Fiction was a vast and windowless factory floor that took up the first two basement storeys of the Ministry of Truth. The space was dominated by the plot machinery, eight mammoth machines that looked like simple boxes of shining metal. When you opened them up, their guts were a bewildering array of sensors and gears. Only Julia and her colleague Essie knew how to crawl around inside without doing damage. The central mechanism was the kaleidoscope. It had sixteen sets of claws that selected and transported plot elements; hundreds of metal sorts that were grabbed and discarded until a group was found that fit together. This successful pattern was assembled - again by machinery - on a magnetized plate. The plate was dipped into a tray of ink, then swivelled out and was stamped onto a roll of paper. The printed length of paper was cut away. A production manager lifted it free.

The result was a gridded print, jocularly called a 'bingo card', that coded the elements of a story: genre, main characters, major scenes. A Rewrite man had once attempted to explain to Julia how these were interpreted, but to no avail. Even after five years on the floor, to her they might as well have been Eastasian picture-writing.

Now she watched as a production manager snatched a new print off the roll and waved it about to dry the ink. When he was satisfied, he rolled it, inserted it in a green cylinder, and shoved the cylinder into a pneumatic tube. From up on the walkway, Julia could watch the cylinder's flight through a tangle of translucent plastic hoses on the ceiling to plop into a bin at the southern end of the room. That was Rewrite, where men and women sat in long rows, muttering into speakwrites, turning bingo cards into novels and stories. But by that stage, no machines were involved and Julia's interest was at an end.

Which, I suppose, is the most logical way of constructing a novel-writing machine, but it just producing a ‘bingo card’ of plot feels disappointing. It kind of speaks to the problem with prequels, in that they have to provide mundane answers for casually mentioned things that fire a reader or viewer’s imagination. How exciting and mysterious did ‘the clone wars’ sound in Star Wars and how boring was George Lucas’s version of it in the prequels?

OK, when it’s got to the point of complaining about the Star Wars prequels, it’s time to wrap it up. Julia is going back to the library. If you’ve read it, I’d be interested to hear your thoughts.

Buy ‘Julia’ by Sandra Newman at bookshop.org (affiliate link)

'The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death and Legacy of One Laptop per Child' by Morgan G. Ames

I was always fascinated by the One Laptop Per Child programme, both from an ideological point of view and as a piece of industrial design. I was never really convinced by the founders’ notion that cheap computers were the developing world’s path out of poverty, thinking that things like schools and clean drinking water were more of a priority. But the fact that it was so different a priority meant I tried to understand where they were coming from.

This study of the project takes the view that it was flawed from the outset, that the project leaders used their own, relatively privileged backgrounds, as justification for the project, without any real understanding of the actual social and economic factors at play. Put simply, they had prospered with computers, so thought that everyone else would, too. The author frames this as the archetype of the ‘technically precocious boy’ – a category I always thought I fit into when I was younger, until I met people who were actual examples. Being able to run a word processor on an Amstrad CPC wasn’t the same thing.

Anyway, this is largely an academic text, which brings with it some problems. The first of these is that it has a specific argument - that ‘charismatic’ technology is attractive and exciting, but often so much so that it blinds people to its actual utility or lack thereof - and goes about showing examples of its theory at work. If you’re studying the use of new technology in economically depressed environments, it’s useful to have case studies like these, but I honestly wanted a more general overview of the project. I’m a layperson, craving details about the organisation of the project and particularly the design process. Perhaps that’s the technically precocious boy inside me.

Adi Robertson had a good article on The Verge, giving a big-picture overview, but I would have liked more detail. I also would really still like to have a go on one. There’s an online emulator for its Sugar operating system and from the sounds it, the XO laptop had a number of recurrent hardware faults. Still, as the article says at the end, “I’ve still never seen anything like it.”

'The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death and Legacy of One Laptop per Child' by Morgan G. Ames is published by MIT Press (I got my copy off eBay, though)

‘Bitter Harvest’ by Ann Rule

I don’t read a lot of true crime. I’m not really sure why, as crime fiction makes up a reasonable proportion of my leisure reading. Perhaps I just prefer it to be made up. Still, I picked this up from the library as something to read on my week off. As I understand it, Ann Rule has a pretty good reputation for this sorry of thing - better, at least than a lot of the more salacious parts of the market and now that I’ve finished it, I can say it was… pretty good.

The thing about writing stories is that you come to understand their shape. I spent quite a lot of this book expecting a turn in the narrative. It never came, perhaps because it’s based on real life. They say that truth is stranger than fiction because fiction has to make sense. That’s sort of true, but I think it’s also worth mentioning that truth is often a lot more mundane than fiction. That, maybe, is the appeal of true crime. It’s not the glamour, it’s the mundanity.

(Also, can I just mention that the marketing on this cover is weird? “A mother’s sacrifice” is certainly one way of framing it.)

https://uk.bookshop.org/p/books/bitter-harvest-a-woman-s-fury-a-mother-s-sacrifice-ann-rule/4936811?ean=9780751579178

(It seems the iPad version of Squarespace doesn’t allow you to put links in blog posts. That can’t be true, can it?)

Reiches

1

Sometimes things arrive in threes. This is slightly unfortunate when it comes to Reich-related content, but I’m trying to keep the momentum up with posting these little notes, so I’ll record them here anyway.

Firstly, I listened to Steve Reich Essentials on Apple Music, which revealed a much more diverse range of compositions than I was aware of. I’m quite a fan of 20th century minimalist music and in that field Reich is a big name, mainly for his use of phasing. (My wife also loves Clapping Music, considering it one of the best things ever made by a human). The playlist had a lot of music I wasn’t familiar with and showed that Reich is not just someone who goes du-du-du-du-du-du-du and did-did-did-did-did-did.

Amongst the pieces in the playlist is Different Trains and hearing it again made me think of the Song Exploder episode dealing with the composition of the first part of that piece. It’s one of the longer episodes of that series, but is still only about 30 minutes. Most podcasts are too long, but Song Exploder is the exception. I love hearing about the creative process in all its forms. The podcast (as well as One Song) are also a potential source of stems for sampling. I always wanted to make a series called Song Imploder, which used the musical snippets from the show in order to make a musical counterpoint. Unfortunately, I am coming to terms with the truth that I am not really very gifted musically. I am slowly making my piece with this fact.

2

Another Reich, one whom I am unsure is related to the first or not, is former US Labor Secretary Robert Reich. He’s interviewed on Kara Swisher’s podcast On with Kara Swisher. (That was a horrible sentence. I’m typing through the first coffee of the day.)

I’m really trying to limit the amount of US politics I ingest at the moment. It’s difficult to ration it, though, as the news seeps through everywhere. This interview was interesting to me, though, as Reich talks about the mistakes that were made in his time in the Clinton administration and how the Democratic party lost touch with its base. I don’t know what happens next, but it feels like progressive parties (both in the UK and the US) can’t carry on along this same track.

Anyway. link to episode here.

3

Finally, we get to Robert Reich’s son, Sam Reich, who is the CEO of streaming service Dropout (formerly College Humor). He’s interviewed by Fast Company about how he acquired the company and the ethos of mutual benefit he’s tried to instil there. I find it really interesting - and encouraging - when people make successful businesses out of the simple principle that you don’t have to screw absolutely everyone you meet. He’s also quite funny and charming, which makes it an easy listen.

Sam Reich Fast Company interview

(If a podcast doesn’t have its own site, I’ll use a link to Apple podcasts, just because it seems like the standard repository. That said, I find the Apple Podcasts app to be pretty horrible. I’ve been using Pocketcasts for a while now, mainly because it allows you to play podcasts through a Sonos speaker. This used to be a premium feature, but is now free.)

'Strange Houses' by Uketsu (trans. Jim Rion)

Conceptually, I love the idea of telling mystery stories through floor plans[1] and this Japanese book sets out to to exactly that. It begins by the author noticing a space between two rooms - a gap in the house that seems to serve no practical purpose - and expands from there, tracing a narrative through the arrangement of walls, windows and doors over several architectural floorplans. The design is functional and while I didn’t love the typesetting, it does manage to feel very different from a regular novel. I say that the cover design was very well done - simple and effective use of vectors by Luke Bird, although now I look at it I’m realising that actually I think I just like floorplans.

Sometimes I read a book in two sittings and somehow have managed to break at an inflection point. The first half of Strange Houses was inspired - a real story emerging from seemingly mundane details. Then the book goes into explanation of why these houses have been built this way and I kind of lost interest. There was a point at which family trees were introduced and I thought that this was going to be another kind of structure that would reveal details through odd interconnectedness, but it didn’t quite happen.

Most of the book is not told in standard prose fiction, but as scripted dialogues between participants and reportage of their movements. Later, when the story delves back in time, there are sections of regular prose, but contained within correspondence, a device that always feels somewhat inauthentic to me.

It’s a shame, because I would recommend the first half of the book without equivocation. I haven’t read the previous Strange Pictures, but skimmed it in the bookshop and it didn’t have the same appeal as the floorplans. I might get it from the library if it’s available, and hold out hope that the forthcoming Strange Buildings will concentrate more on buildings than world-building.

Buy ‘Strange Houses’ by Uketsu at Bookshop.org

[1] I tried to do this with Proposal for the Elimination of Rick Burgess in my 52 Murders project, but feel that I didn’t quite nail it.

‘Invisible’ by Paul Auster

I picked this up in a closing down sale of a local independent bookshop, which was a shame. As nice as the shop was, its location meant it was probably doomed (in the basement section of a sparsely populated artisanal shopping centre, away from the high street). The fact that I can’t even remember the shop’s name is possibly significant. The fact that I also picked up a quite nice rug for my workroom there is probably less significant to anyone but me.

Anyway, I hadn’t read any Paul Auster in a long while, but remembered enjoying The New York Trilogy somewhat and The Brooklyn Follies somewhat more. There’s sometimes a satisfaction in reading a writer so established in their abilities that they can write pretty much anything and it comes out readable and moreish. I wouldn’t say this was one of his best, but I certainly didn’t expect the content of the book’s second part, which was caused a bit of a double take.

It’s also one of those books without quotation marks for dialogue. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this and decide whether it’s a contrivance or a sensible piece of efficiency. I think I might be too square to write dialogue without inverted commas.

Buy ‘Invisible’ by Paul Auster at bookshop.org

I do love a penalty shootout

It’s such a stupidly pure way of settling a match. I would say that perhaps all games should be settled this way, but it wouldn’t be the same if the participants weren’t physically exhausted and their nerves utterly shredded.

Congratulations to the England women’s team. Commiserations to Spain’s. Football can be cruel.

Minimal effort, minimal results

Today didn’t work out as planned and I didn’t do as much writing as I had hoped - only a few pages in the notebook, writing filler scenes that need to exist, I’m just not quite sure where.

Drafting non-linearly is a change for me and for the most part I’ve found it to be a more measured, interesting approach. But I’m now reaching the point where all these little islands need to connect and I feel my bridge-building skills are sorely lacking. If the first draft of everything is shit, then this is wet and messy and all over the place.

(Sorry - that’s quite disgusting, but I’ve had to clean up after the cat twice today and it’s obviously had more of an impact than I realised.)

I’m consoling myself with the fact that, in those couple of pages, there’s a few sentences that I’m pretty pleased with. That will have to do.

Black Sabbath - Planet Caravan

Ozzy Osbourne died. Some might say it was amazing he lived as long as he did. I’m not someone who listens to a lot of rock, but in my obligatory someone died, so let’s listen to their hits session, I heard this between ‘Paranoid’ and ‘Iron Man’ and it’s much more my speed.

Rival Consoles - Soft Gradient Beckons

I haven’t really clicked with Rival Consoles latest album. It’s always a bit weird when LPs have a several tracks released before the album. Somehow, they remain ‘bitty’ in my mind. ‘Soft Gradient Beckons’ did catch on with me, though, perhaps because at it’s heart it has a repeating motif that reminded me of Alessandro Cortini’s ‘Forse’ series.

Anyway, there’s a great video for the track made by the artist/animator/printmaker Anthony Dickenson, using long rolls of paper. Video and bts linked below.

Birds Scream

Two very different pieces of music, related by an abstract thought.

(This is the Clipse Tiny Desk concert. Skip to 14:43 for ‘Birds Don’t Sing’. Squarespace doesn’t allow me to embed times YT links, which is just one of the reasons Squarespace is bad.)

And a live version of Aldous Harding’s ‘What if birds aren’t singing, they’re screaming’. Honestly, I prefer the album version, but as Clipse were live, I figured like-for-like was a good idea.

If I was any good at such things, I might try making a mashup, which shows just how old I am. Are mashups still a thing?

Reaktor Lab 20250626

I’m trying to learn how to make noises in Reaktor. I’ll post the least horrible ones here for a while.

'They' by Kay Dick / The fix-up novel

I had high hopes for this slim little novella and while it didn’t entirely live up to them, I’m still thinking about it a few days later. Set in a very English dystopia, the nameless, genderless protagonist moves between various friends of artistic bent as they resist an ill-defined but ominous presence. In this version of England’s green and pleasant lands, travel is restricted, people are disappeared and curtains are always kept close.

The ongoing sense of unease is countered by the beauty and idyl of the surroundings, making it possible to belive how the majority of the population would go along with the rise of ‘they’. It’s never described exactly who they are or what they stand for and while communication and artistic expression aren’t explicitly outlawed, there are measures in place to hinder such activities. Their mission is to create an atmosphere of oppression that is almost invisible, but which can be felt in every fibre of one’s being.

The foreword by Carmen Maria Machado uses a term I hadn’t heard before: the fix-up novel. Made up of a collection of previously published stories which share a shared world and may be connected in the very loosest sense, but are connected.

(To be clear, Machado uses the phrase to say that ‘They’ is not a fix-up novel, but the idea is interesting to me. I will say, though, that ‘They’ worked better for me as it drew to the conclusion when it felt like it was pulling in a particular direction.)

The novel was out of print for many years and has been recently re-released by Faber Editions.

They by Kay Dick (Bookshop.org affiliate link)

Practice

I’ve been thinking about blogging more, not for exposure or for reach, but more just for practice. I’m working on a long piece of fiction at the moment and while I’m enjoying it, the monolithic nature of it’s starting to feel a little bit oppressive.

I considered opening a micro.blog account, as I quite like its combination of social features and microblogging. It’s $5 a month, though, and I know that’s not much but I’m really trying not to get any new subscriptions at the moment.

Similarly, Write.As is a nice barebones text publishing service, but I think it doesn’t quite do what I want it to. I think I’m looking for a notebook/scrapbook as well as a log of what I’m doing, seeing and reading.

Honestly, Tumblr is the only social media service I’ve ever really liked using, but I’ve never really felt a kinship with the community there. There are several artists I like that post regularly, but I’m at something of a loss as to what to post there.

Blogging with Squarespace always feels a bit janky (particularly with Firefox, which I’m using at the moment), but I’ll see how it goes.

This feed was previously known as ‘log’ and featured my daily routine of what I’ve done. That sort of fell by the wayside. I’m rebranding it as ‘notes’ and hoping that it will replace some of what I use services like Bear or Are.na for - namely collecting things that I find interesting or might want to refer to later.

2024-03-18

Well. It has been a long time since I did this. I have been doing stuff, I promise, I just haven’t logged it. I’ve also moved house, so that’s been a whole thing.

  • Checked the books I cased in over the weekend. Not perfect, but I’ll allow it.

  • Wrote 1400 words of a longish story. It’s a first draft and it’s been a little while since I sat down and wrote like this. Everything is wrong, but I’m telling myself that getting things down is the most important part. My mantra for these situations is Write your way in, then write your way out. Maybe that’s a chronically bad strategy, but it’s working for me. So far. But it’s getting to the point where all the waffling in the world can’t disguise the fact that things are starting to happen and I need to keep up.

  • I’m attending a course in the mornings. Not really going to talk about it here, but it’s a thing I’m doing without really knowing where this is going to go.

2024-01-12

  • Published details of Battlesecrets to this site and social media.

  • Submitted a story for publication.

  • Tidied up my Desktop. Sounds minor bud god my head feels clearer.

2023-12-11

  • Posted to Instagram, Facebook and Twitter about my little article in the latest issue of Printmaking Today.

  • Tried re-working digital version of the board book, hoping to get a better image quality. Whatever I tried, it didn’t work satisfactorily. I think I might go back to the janky version, which at least has character.