On Steampunk

I don't think I've made it a secret that I'm a little bit (read: a lot) obsessed with steampunk. I guess in part it's because my dad's an engineer and takes me on tours of steamships, and in part because I think gears and goggles are pretty freaking cool. It's to the point where I carry around my own windup clockwork-showing on-a-chain pocketwatch and made a steampunkish dress.

Oh, and writing a steampunk book.

(Well, kind of. It's more clockpunk, and also, faeries. And Czech culture.) 

From Gearfuse.com

But steampunk as a genre and as a movement kind of bothers me. It seems really...superficial. I'm being the worst kind of hypocrite when I say that, because I love all the shiny gears and corsets and stuff, but it's true. Steampunk is superficial. It's about the cool clothes! airships! clockwork creatures! machines! gears! pirates! and so forth. It's pretty and shiny and we geeks are attracted to it like Twihards are attracted to the latest paranormal romance novel.

This realization happened upon me after reading several "steampunk" novels that have been published within the last few years or so: Clockwork Heart, Leviathan, Boneshaker, Soulless, Mortal Engines, The Scar, Perdido Street Station (though the last two aren't so much steampunk as they are...weird...) ...and so forth. And it's kind of weird, but to me, the less steampunky novels (that is, ones that had some elements but were more general fantasy/weird fiction) were the better ones. 


Airborn is a great YA novel. The Scar/Perdido Street Station are favourites of mine. The others weren't bad (except for Leviathan, which caused me to lose faith in Scott Westerfield, and Mortal Engines, which are super steampunk but I can't help but adore) but they were all kind of plagued with a certain sameness. They seemed to be running on the "holy crap, STEAMPUNK!" feeling. Like someone was stuffing shiny things into our gazes. Look, mechanical wings! Oooh, giant mecha-ships! Corsets! Leviathan was the worst of the bunch - World War I became nothing more than a backdrop to lots of gears and living ships. Trivializing something like that bothered me. But they were all kind of...well, shallow. Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, the two Fathers of Steampunk, had many similar elements, but they also had interesting themes and interesting commentaries on society and a whole lot of stuff that could be an essay in its own.

So, I don't know. This sameness issue isn't limited to the steampunk genre - don't we all wish people would stop writing books about the Ordinary Girl falling in love with the Supernatural Hottie? Or the Farm Boy Destined For Greatness? I know that trends happen, and once a trend is set there's not a whole lot of originality. The difference for me, at least, is the fact that steampunk has potential. A whole lot of it.  There's so much to be done with it, because it's a *relatively* new movement. It's hard to write an original fantasy book about dragons or vampires or werewolves because there are literally millions of other stories with those same elements. Steampunk's still in the toddler stage, for me.

But instead of going for that distance and trying to make a really good book, authors are satisfied with rehashing all the cool stuff. Which, on a level, I understand. Steampunk is cool. Steampunk is fun. Writing steampunk books (as I'm experiencing) is incredibly fun. I just wish people would try to make something more of it, and dig beneath the shiny layer of pretty Victorian lace and brass goggles.

I'm going to give it a shot.

Excerpt: Chiaroscuro

I've been talking about putting up an excerpt here and there of my writing for a long, long time. Well, here we go. This is one of the more recently-written bits from my novel-in-progress, Chiaroscuro. It's hard to explain the plot, but it's the story of two teenagers, Nathan and Tessa, and how they help each other out of the darkness. It's a play on the idea of this: what if your reflection didn't show who you were on the outside, but who you were on the inside? The *real* synopsis is below.

(There’s something wrong with Nathan’s reflection.)

It’s been four months since Tessa’s boyfriend, David, died, and she’s still coping with the grief. When she accidentally makes eye contact with the strange boy in the woods, though, things change. Stricken by nightmares that aren’t hers and haunted by a monster in the mirrors, Tessa realizes that there’s something dark in the woods. Something that is going to kill her. Something that needs her help…

Chapter Twenty: Chiaroscuro

I stare at him, my fingers twisting around the spiral binding of my old sketchbook. It soothes me, and I finally gather up the courage to say what I have been thinking for the last three days.

        “Let me draw you,” I say. I inhale and wait for his response.

      Nate looks confused at first, like he doesn’t understand the language I’m speaking. “Draw…?”

        “I want to draw you,” I tell him again, nodding as I pull out a handful of pencils and my sketchbook. “Please.”

        He inclines his head. “Why?”

        “I don’t know,” I mutter, unable to meet his eyes. “I just thought, you know, I haven’t been able to really draw anything in awhile, and a challenge…”

        “Sure.” He almost smiles and sits down on the floor. “Sure, okay, I guess.”

        He doesn’t get it, and I wince. “Not you,” I say quietly, taking the large handheld mirror out of my backpack. “The other you.”

        Nathan up on his feet instantly, shaking his head, and for the first time I’m a little scared. He’s so much taller than me, and the look in his eyes – blazing – makes something in my stomach twist. “No,” he says brusquely, backing away from me and moving towards the corner of the tiny room. “You can’t do that.”

        “Why not?”

        He glares at me, hunched up in the shadows like a wounded bird. “Why do you want to?”

        This time I don’t know what to say. Why would I want to draw the creature in the mirror? It’s hideous. More than that, it’s terrifying. Looking at it makes me want to run away, because there’s something wrong about it, something that sparks a deeply wound instinct to flee. This isn’t just about looks; it’s primal.

        But it’s Nathan. It’s him. That monster is him.

        Or at least a part of him. And that means something important. Not good, but important.

        “Please,” I say. “It’s the only way I can understand this.”

        Perhaps it’s the desperation in my voice or the look on my face or a million other little cues that told him that I was completely serious, but something breaks through. Nathan nods.

        “Okay,” he says. “Do it.”

        I stand up. “Come over here.”

        Nathan sits on the ground, and I hand him the mirror, then move to sit behind him. He holds it up, and we both see the monster again. It stares eerily at me – no, not it. Him. Nathan stares at me.

        “Sorry,” he mutters, and I realize that he can see the abject look of horror painted on my face.

        “It’s fine.” I flip open the sketchbook and turn to a new page. Here we go.

        Look at me!

        Yes. Don't worry. 

        I am.

        Against my will, I force myself to stare at Nathan’s reflection. I focus on details. The texture of the skin, the way light and shadows mix together in this strange little hut. The mouth. And the eyes. My pencil moves quickly.

        The eyes are Nathan’s, I realize. I never saw it before. I never looked close enough. But right in the middle of the monster, amidst the horror and hideousness, are his eyes. Nathan’s green eyes.

        It’s jarring to see such beauty, such humanity, surrounding by something crafted out of a nightmare. But at the same time, it’s absolutely hopeful. That monster isn’t just a monster. It’s Nathan’s monster, and it’s him, at least a little bit. I wonder if anyone else ever noticed that the monster in the mirror has the eyes of a human.

        I continue drawing.

        There’s an art style that I learned about a few years ago. It’s called chiaroscuro. It’s Italian. The meaning of it translates into darkness, or something similar. Instead of focusing on the lines and the structure, you look to the shadows, the intricate and delicate relationship between darkness and light. You can breathe life into your art. It’s used as a focus, as a way to indirectly direct the attention to something that may not have been seen before. I use chiaroscuro to bring all the attention to Nathan’s eyes. They are the focus of this piece of art. 

Book Review: Legacy, by Cayla Kluver

I think that spring has truly and finally arrived upon my little island. The sun has finally broken free of the fog that entraps my mountain, and the day's been entirely blue and clear. In the bright light, all the tropical foliage looks pristine, almost like a picture. I took my two dogs, Daisy and Happy, out on a walk this morning at about seven down a trail near my house, and it was gorgeous. It leads down, past a valley full of growing vegetables, and down more steps to a beautiful waterfall. If you go another way, you can head onto this other trail that I love, as seen to the left. It follows a 1940's waterpipe around the mountain and leads to a beautiful river that you can cross by foot. I'm so glad I live on this mountain. 

A few more things before the book review: 

1. My new friend, Kaiyuh, has written and self-published her book, Shinken. At first I was admittedly wary of the premise of her self-publishing, but after learning more I've become rather impressed, instead. I'm ordering the book off of Amazon (you can as well!)and I'll soon be reviewing it on here, with the additional chance of an interview with Kaiyuh. 

2. Schools' getting to that point where teachers realize how much crap they have to stuff into our heads, which means many projects, papers, and homework. Which means less blogging time for me. D: 

3. Saw How To Train Your Dragon. Loved it. Love the music. Want to own it. So should you. 

Without further exposition, here's my new bi-monthly book review. Today I'm looking at a medieval romantic fantasy by the name of Legacy, by teen writer Cayla Kluver. I'm not usually interested in anything medieval nor romantic, being more of a gritty steampunk-esque (think China Mievelle here, you guys) kind of girl, but I'm always interested in seeing what people my age are turning out, so I've looked into it.  

Legacy, the first in a planned trilogy, was originally self-published by Cayla and her family, and was later picked up by Amazon's new publishing industry (yes, Amazon's become a publisher now), called Amazon Encore. I read it on the school library Kindle. 

First off: I'm rather opposed to teen publishing. Yes, yes, I know it sounds a bit stupid, seeing as I'm a teenager myself, but I honestly think that most teenagers don't have the skills to be properly published. But ever since Christopher Paolini opened the door, there seems to be a growing number of teens getting published. And most of them, while definitely showing talent, need to improve a lot before they have the skills to be real writer. It's not their fault - they're young, and there's a certain amount of experience that's needed to be gained before I think they can produce worthwhile stuff. Anyways, on to the review. 


Plot 
Though Legacy is sold as a fantastical romance, there's very little of the fantasy element added in, at least until the very end of the story. We begin with a suspiciously specific prologue, detailing the story of two countries with names that are totally not innuendos, Hytanica and Cokyri. Apparently thirty-or-so babies were stolen from Hytanica sixteen years ago, and only one of them wasn't found dead. There's also mention of a Blood Moon. 

The main story, however, is told through the eyes of seventeen-year-old Alera, who is one of the two princesses of Hytanica. She's being forced to (what a surprise) marry someone she doesn't love, and this person is the son of the Captain of the Guard, Steldor. Meanwhile, a hot new love interest crops up from the Hytanican enemy: Cokyri. *snort*  as a prisoner, dragging along the plot. The story revolves around Alera and her struggle to make a choice: marry the man who was brought up to be a king (Steldor) or sacrifice everything and go with Narian, the Cokyrian boy. There's also something about an ancient blood feud.

Like I said before, the romance factor wasn't what brought me in, and I was pretty disappointed to see that there wasn't much of a fantasy element in the story. To the book's credit, though, I kind of got into the whole "Alera having to choose" factor, mostly because both Steldor and Narian were jerks in their own right. However, it was too bloated; there were too many wandering chapters that didn't really lead anywhere, which made the book hard to get through at times. For a character-driven novel, this can be a problem, but experienced authors know how to deal with it. Unfortunately, Legacy doesn't do that. 

Plot: 5.5/10

Characters & World
Like most other medieval fantasy books, Alera, the protagonist, tried hard to be the spunky, rebellious princess that we know so well. At first this deterred me, because the "rebelliousness" read more like "annoyingness", but I grew to like her a little more, mainly for one reason: she made mistakes. Big ones. It shows a lot of potential for character growth in later books, and since this is a trilogy, I'm willing to let her go. The rest of the characters ranged from nicely written to plain annoying (I liked London, Alera's bodyguard, but Tadark, her other bodyguard, grew grating after a few chapters of complaints.) As for the two love interests, Narian and Steldor...well, both seemed kind of like douchebags in their own right. Steldor was the stereotypical aggravating, pompous man-boy, and Narian was just kind of insolent. If I had to choose, I would say I liked Steldor better, actually. In general, the characters here weren't great, but most of them weren't too terrible, either. 

 As for the world...well, if you're a history buff, don't get your hopes up. Cayla tries to create a fantasy world, complete with names like Emotanya (it's a country full of sad people, I presume), etc. But there's a lot of inconsistency. The character names vary from your standard fantasy names (Alera, Miranna, Steldor) to the pseudo-Asian (Sadhienne, etc.) to just...weird. (London?) Even though it's supposed to be a fantasy world, there's mention of Christianity (both God and Christmas are referred to) as well as Latin. Alchemy is used as a substitute for all things science, and the economy/worldbuilding is nonexistent.  In short, Hytanica is a very shallow world, a backdrop for the characters and nothing more. 

Characters: 6.5/10
World: 3.5/10 

Writing Style 
This is where the ball drops, people.  Cayla Kluver, as reviewed by Amazon, is thought to be "marked by witty, rapid-fire dialogue and dramatic complexity that belie the writer's age," This must be for a different book, because I found no such thing. Much of the story is bogged down by unnecessary descriptions, adjective-loaded sentences (e.g. "He stroked my long brown smooth hair.") and "look-at-me-I'm-a-writer" words. Cliches are abound ("raven hair" and "startling blue eyes" are only the beginning) and the rest of it was so boring I wanted to skip. Many of the descriptions were out of place for a fantasy novel (calling one dress "fun and flirty".) As for the dialogue...well, it would have been good if the author had made up her mind. Everyone kept switching back from Ye Olde Medieval speech to stuff you would hear in a shopping mall. It was jarring, to say the least. 

The biggest sin, however, is Cayla's tendency to tell versus show. She obviously knows the difference between the two, but for some reason would use both in the same sentence. (Narian looked surpised, mostly because I knew that he knew that something was wrong...). It was unnecessary and redundant all at once, and made for an annoying read.  if you're a critical reader or writer, it will make you want to scream at times. 

Writing: 3/10

In short, if you want an easy, if verbose, romance, this is the book for you. It's not bad, and in several parts it's quite good, but the inconsistency makes it hard to keep up the suspension of disbelief. Like I said before, if you're a critical reader or a history buff, this isn't the book for you. As critical as I've been, however, I will say that I enjoyed it, despite all the errors. With some practice and a little more research, I think Cayla Kluver can turn into a great writer. As for now...well, this is a darn good first draft. 

Total Score: 4.6/10   

Cheers,
-Ari 

My Works: Current Writing

If you ask me what I am, my first answer will probably be "I'm a writer." Okay, I get it, that doesn't really make me special. Lots of people like to write. Lots of teenagers like to write. Yeah, well, me too. The cool thing is to see how much my life as an expat has influenced my writing. If I lived in America my entire life, I probably wouldn't have a fantasy story taking place in the ruins of Shanghai with a Han Chinese girl as my protagonist, or an Arabian faerie-tale that takes place in Marrakesh. So yeah. Here's a rundown of my main projects, from biggest to smallest:


Spark 
A five-part book series that I've been conceiving, writing, and creating for several years. I recently finished the first book, Spark, and I'm now working on the sequel (steampunk!) called Ironsong. This is my main project that I've been working on for about four years, and I love it. Snippets of excerpts and more information are available on my main blog. 


Chiaroscuro
A single-standing novel about a boy with PTSD and depression who sees a monster whenever he looks in the mirror, and can't stop killing people. 


The Night Dance
The story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, rewritten from another point of view. Ora is a serving girl in King Pierus' castle, and is chosen to follow his nine daughters when they travel each night to another world. 

Winds of Change

Hello there again, nonexistent readers of my unknown blog. How lovely to see you all again.

This weekend I haven't done much, thanks to getting about a pint of blood drawn for testing and resulting in me becoming extremely giddy (dui, for some strange reason I get into a drunken-like state after losing blood) and then having to lie down for awhile. But I did manage to get some sightseeing in, and am I amazed. The hospital I went to is near the area where a lot of old government buildings, and all of a sudden my and my mom stumbled upon the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall.

And wow, is it amazing.

For those of you who don't know, Chiang Kai Shek was one of the men who helped build Taiwan and made it independent from China. (Note: Never assume that Taiwan is part of China. It's not, and the Taiwanese would like to be very clear about that.) There's mixed feelings about him on the island, but they still built a huge memorial for the guy, and it's beautiful.

The gateway actually reminds me of a place from my story. The picture to the left is the actual memorial (thanks, Wikipedia!) and even though it doesn't quite capture how big and grand the building is, it's a good shot. Within is a big statue of Kai Shek sitting on a chair - yes, similar to the Lincoln Memorial, except this has Asian style. :)

So I saw that, and also some other beautiful buildings in the area. Personally, I think it's the best looking part of Taiwan, save Yangmingshan, of
course.

On other notes, the weather here is definitely taking a turn for the...different. Apparently Taiwanese winters are foggy. Really foggy. And rainy. Basically, very damp. I'm not sure if it will snow or not, but since I live on a mountain, I'll probably be the first to know. Today we celebrated Thanksgiving at my church, and we get two days off from school this week.

Writing-wise, my story's going pretty well. I'm writing the end, and it's quite exciting. It's not an action-packed ending, but it's really emotional, and definitely bittersweet. I don't like happy-happy endings. For me (and in my writing) everything comes with a price, and this time the price is big. NaNoWriMo's starting to wind down, so my heart goes out to all the novelists scrambling to get in their 50k quota.

Also, time for some book recommendations! The library at my new school is much better than the one at my old school, so I've been checking out books like a mad woman. Right now I'm in the middle of Cybele's Secret, a book by Juliet Mariller. It's the second in the Wildwood series, but it's not so much a sequel as a a loosely-related book in the same universe, through a different character's eyes. If you like historical fantasy and rich Ottoman Empire-inspired cities, then this is for you. Of course, I recommend reading the first book, Wildwood Dancing, first. It's vaguely based off the fairytale of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, and it has the same magical feeling in it. The cover art is just as beautiful.

I think that's all for now. I'm really having fun with this blog, and I'm going to keep adding on more to it. Enjoy.

Sarn Progress: 111,000 words and going strong.

Cheers,
Ari

My Life's a....Soap Opera?

Apparently so. It's been a long time since I've updated this thing (approx. two months) and a combination of guilt and boredom propelled me to post on it again. It probably doesn't matter much, since nobody reads this thing, but I think it will be good to keep tabs on my life once in awhile.

So. One of the main reasons I've been so lax in writing lately is because I've been sick. Got surgery when I was ten and I guess it wasn't ready to kick the bucket yet, because I'm still having some complications related to it...or something. It's been two months of testing and we're still not sure what's wrong with me. Something to do with my immune system and my endocrine system. All I know is that I'm getting sick of being sick.

But enough about me. Despite being housebound 75% of the time, I've managed to see a bit more of beautiful Taiwan. It's getting chilly here, which I didn't expect - winter clothes are coming on. It seems like time's moving pretty fast; next week we have our Thanksgiving break, and after that Christmas is just around the corner. And this month is November, which means...

NaNoWriMo. Possibly the most insane fun things ever invented in the history of writing. I'm far behind blogging about it, since November is more than halfway over, but better late then never. I'm not in NaNoWriMo this year - working on last year's draft suits me fine - but a load of my friends are, and I wish them luck. May rushed prose abound wherever you type, you guys.

Sarn Status: 107k, writing the ending. Hope to be done and editing by Christmas.

Books and Taiwan

Hey there, everyone. Instead of talking about books, I figured I'd talk about something less common: my life in Taiwan as far. For the record, I'm American, and so white I glow in the dark, so I kind of stand out in Asia. But I've been living here for eight years and counting, and Taiwan is the eighth place in a long list of areas I've lived.

So far, it seems pretty awesome. The people are nice, the food seems pretty good (milk tea!) and my school is good, albeit hard. In my opinion, Taiwan is a mix of China, Thailand, and Korea. The people speak like Chinese (mostly), but they don't act much like them in some areas. They drive kind of crazy, like Koreans (no offense, you guys; I loved living in Korea) and the markets and stray dogs remind me of Bangkok. Somehow it manages to blend together in this place I now call my home.

And, for the first time since I was eight, I'm living in a house. A real house, with a yard. And a pool. Not to say I'm biased or anything. The only downside is that my dogs are in America at the moment, because customs are being kind of picky. We have to wait until Christmas.

Now, the one thing that I have to say about Taiwan is: God, it is freaking gorgeous here. I live on a mountain called Yang Ming Shan (Shan means mountain, but I'm not sure what the other two words are yet), and it's about twenty minutes from the downtown area where my school is. Okay. Remember how I said Taiwan is kind of like Thailand? Scratch that. It's more like Malaysia, or Indonesia, or some beautiful, tropical place that is simply brimming with life. No one told me I was going to live in a rainforest. Well, I am, and it's awesome. There are birds galore, monkeys, tropical bats, mice deer and way too many insects for my liking, but what the heck. Yesterday my family and I went on this flat hiking trail not far from our house, and I swear it's like you stepped back in time, way back to the Jurassic. I'm talking giant ferns, big leaves and vines hanging everywhere, mossy outcrops and little streams flowing around. Gorgeous. Breath-takingly so.

Not to mention the fact that I appear to be living on some sort of volcano-like structure. Forget shan. My house is on Yang Ming Freaking Volcano. There are geysers and natural springs everywhere (and yes, sulfur really does smell horrible) and it looks like there should be dinosaurs, or someone from Lord of the Rings, roaming around. So far I've lived through two (minor) earthquakes and Typhoon Morakot.

I'm starting to think this is a sign. The first book in a fantasy series I'm writing takes place back in Shanghai, which is known as the Zhongshui in the future, about one thousand years from now. I was kind of disappointed when we moved because I wouldn't be living in the city of my story anymore.

I found out I moved somewhere even better. Taiwan is the exact place I imagined that Book Number Two (which I'm tentatively calling Bone Teller at the moment) looks like. Not kidding.

I'm really thinking it's a sign.

Over and out
-Ari

Story Chronicles

So far I've kept my promise to myself, and I'll be trying to update this every day. Today's topics for discussion: my story, my website, and young authors in general. Let's get this started:

For anyone who doesn't know already, I love writing, and as of this moment I'm working on a story that I'm calling Fantasy at Heart. It's, obviously, a fantasy story, and it takes place about a thousand years in the future, in the ruins of the city once known as Shanghai...the people who live there now are different, changed. Everything that makes us human was disappeared, and the survivors are barely more than animals. All the parts of us that we love have been forgotten.

But what if someone begins to remember?

That's all I'm going to say for now, because I'm paranoid, especially on the internet. Right now it's more than 91,000 words and counting, and I hope to finish it for November so I can write the sequel for NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. If you want to learn more about me and my story, you can visit my website, which is listed in the link bit to the right. It's all about me and my travels around the world as a young writer.

Ah, young writers. It seems like a lot of them are popping up lately, from Caryn Kluver to Nancy Yi Fan to the infamous Gloria Tesch, and some are better than others. This has raised a question for me: why? Why do we young writers feel this innate need to get published as soon as we possibly can, no matter how good or bad or stories may be, how mature our prose is? I want to get published because I love writing and I know that I'm going to be writer, no matter what. If I get published now or in ten years....well, I know I'm going to be published. But it seems that ever since Christopher Paolini's parents self-published his book and it was subsequently picked up by Knopf, it's become the "in" thing to be a teen writer. Personally, I think most of us should wait. Teenage skills are constantly being improved (in most cases) and that if you get published now, you're going to look back in a year and see how bad your writing was in comparison to the present. So I think most kids should wait.

There are, however, some exceptions. There are some teens who are truly gifted and write stories beyond their years. Words are their plaything, and they bend them and use them in new ways, ways that have never been seen before. They're rare, but I've seen them. And they should go for it.

The question is, are you one of them?

That's all for now. Next topic: Books I love and books I hate.

Who I Am.

I seriously have no idea if anyone is going to read this, now or ever. After all, I am technically a nobody, just another person who want to make something in life. But perhaps someday, someone will read this. Even if they don't, that's fine. This is for myself. My name is Ari. I'm a teenage writer who is currently living in Asia, and I've been moving around the world since I was in third grade. I've lived in seven places in four countries (so far), and I've visited over twenty and counting. What I love most is writing. I discovered this pretty early on, and ever since no one has been able to stop me. My title work, Fantasy at Heart, is what all of this is based off of. Above all things I am a storyteller, living happily within my own fantasy at heart.

That's all for now.
-Ari