The New Black

queenofthorns

Cover by Matthias Kollros

It’s a cliche, of course, but a flattering one, and I’ve noticed several of my peers receiving the same comparison in recent years. Are we the sons of Fritz? Or are comparisons with Leiber the new comparisons with Tolkien? Anyway, excessive praise is always more welcome than faint damns.

Whatever the case, I was flabbersmacked when Mordecai Knode heaped excessive praise on the boys over at tor.com a few years back. Two more books have since followed with kind reviews of their own, but I’ve come to think of Queen of Thorns as the “sweet spot” in the adventures of Radovan and the Count. Perhaps it’s because that was the one in which my love letter was addressed to high fantasy of the elfy-welfy variety, as Kim Mohan used to put it.

Here’s hoping someone feels similarly effusive about the girls when they make their appearance sometime this year.

 

Creative Colleagues: Ryan Schifrin & Richard Lee Byers

Ryan Schifrin

Ryan Schifrin

Every now and then, I pester my creative colleagues with five questions about their work. Most of these folks are friends, a few are secret enemies, and one has been blackmailing me for years.

Earlier this year, a friend pointed me to the Basil & Moebius short film “No Rest for the Wicked.” I was amazed I hadn’t heard of it before, considering the star power involved and the delightful odd-couple heroes inspired by the same duos who’d influenced Radovan and the Count.

I was worried for a minute when I saw there was a monkey, but the damned thing could act! When I learned that the film’s creator was the son of legendary composer Lalo Schifrin, I understood where he’d got his talent—but it still didn’t explain how he’d persuaded Ray Park, Zachary Levi, Kane Hodder and the great Malcolm McDowell to star in this little film.

A little later I put two and two together and realized Ryan Schifrin was the director of Abominable and a story in Tales of Halloween. And soon after that, he told me about his Basil & Moebius stories, novels, and comics—whose co-writers were all familiar names. Among them was Richard Lee Byers, who I’ll henceforth think of as the Basil to my Moebius in Forgotten Realms, Pathfinder, and upcoming still-secret fiction lines. His most recent Basil & Moebius adventure is The Picture of Aleister Crowley, and his next is the graphic novel The Fate of All Fools.

Richard is one of the tie-in writers whose prolific output puts the rest of us to shame, so we’ve got a couple of Creative Colleagues interviews lined up for this fall. For this first one, we invited Ryan to join in as we discuss all things Basil & Moebius.

Ryan, what’s the origin of Basil & Moebius?

Ryan Schifrin: I was at a live professional tennis tournament watching a doubles match. A Frenchman and German were on the same team, and I noticed their camaraderie and imagined them in Europe at a pub, drunk and looking for all sorts of mischief to get into. I thought, what if they were thieves instead of tennis players—basically the characters imposed themselves on me out of the blue, and I had no idea what story I’d put them in, but they felt absolutely real to me. I later thought, okay one will be proficient at martial arts, a Queen’s Guard by day who looks like he’s got a boring job, but his nightlife is full of these wild adventures. My dog’s name is Mister Fox, and I remember reading about a Sherlock Holmes-type mouse named Basil of Baker Street when I was a kid.

Moebius isn’t named after the comic book artist but rather the Möbius strip, which my father tried explaining to me when I was very young. That name stuck in my imagination. Then Origin games, the people behind the Ultima games, made a game named Moebius which I bought because I liked the name.

Author Richard Lee Byers

Author Richard Lee Byers

Richard, you’re an old hand at tie-in fiction. What was it about these characters that made writing them appeal to you?

Richard Lee Byers: I’ve always loved rogues and anti-heroes, the kind of adventurers who are out for themselves rather than to serve some lofty ideal, but who are not without compassion and end up grudgingly doing the right thing when it really matters. If they’re witty as they go about their business, so much the better. Like Fritz Leiber’s Gray Mouser and Fafhrd (my favorite fictional characters ever), Basil and Moebius are very much in this mold.

I also like the world in which Basil and Moebius operate. The source material for the series is our modern mythology, the realm of fringe science, urban legend, and conspiracy theory. There’s a lot of fun stuff to play with.

Finally, the tone or range of tones in the series make it fun. I can blend action, horror, crime, espionage, fantasy, science fiction, and comedy. In the universe Ryan has created, it all works together.

Ryan, you’ve also written and directed a film featuring Basil & Moebius. Please tell us a bit about the experience of casting and shooting it.

Ryan Schifrin: My goal from the start has been to do a live-action film or television series with Basil & Moebius. When I was writing the very first story, Bloodstone, it was as a screenplay. I was randomly seated next to Ray Park at the Saturn Awards. I realized he’d be the perfect Basil. He’s a world-class martial artist, he’s got a wicked sense of humor, and he was Darth Maul! So I literally wrote the script with him in mind, and he later read it and said he’d love to play Basil.

I almost got the funding to do the feature a few times, but things would always fall apart and we could never get it off the ground. At this point, the comics were coming out, so I figured it would be fun to do a short film which could also be a proof of concept. Ray was still keen to play Basil, and I needed a Moebius. I had become friends with Zach Levi, from NBC’s Chuck through a mutual friend. Zach can do any accent, and he’s hilarious and can be debonair as well. I asked him, and he said yes.

For the villain, we needed an actor with gravitas and I’ve always wanted to work with Malcolm McDowell. He’d worked with my father in the 70s on Voyage of the Damned, so I was able to get in touch with him. Kane Hodder, who played the best Jason ever in Friday the 13th Part 7, plays one of the Ghoul Brothers.

Since I was self-funding this, we didn’t have a lot of time or money, we used my wife’s dad’s house as the location (it was supposed to be a penthouse in London), and we shot it in a few days. It was fun and it was stressful, because we had animals (a monkey), stunts, visual FX, make-up FX. All the stuff they tell you to avoid using on a short schedule.

The monkey, Crystal, was amazing by the way— she’d get everything on the first take. I think Malcolm McDowell had a bad experience once working with a monkey, so he was looking very dubious until they did their first shot together and Crystal jumps out of her cage, stands up in a karate pose and holds up a blade. Malcolm’s jaw dropped and he exclaimed, “My God! Who needs actors?!”

Cover by Ken Kelley

Cover by Ken Kelley

Richard, which of the duo is your favorite? Or, if neither, what makes them such a good odd couple?

Richard Lee Byers: I’m extremely fond of both of them, but if I had to pick one, I guess it would be Basil. I like the way his down-to-earth practicality and perspective play off the marvels he encounters. They also play off well against Moebius’s narcissism and supreme (and sometimes unwarranted) self-confidence.


Tell us a bit about your initial collaborating process and what, if anything, has changed about it over time. In what ways do you two complement each other?

Ryan Schifrin: Richard is one of those pros who has worked in shared universes, from Forgotten Realms, to Pathfinder, and so on, so he’s used to collaborating and playing in different sandboxes. My job was just to make sure he knew the voice of the characters, so his stories and my stories and Tim’s stories would all feel like the same characters are in them. I’m a big believer in giving as much creative freedom as possible, so I basically told him that he can write any story he wants. I gave him a list of some of the MacGuffin’s we’d used in other stories, and locations, so we wouldn’t be redundant, but otherwise he could do anything he wants—except kill off Basil and Moebius!

He’d send me an outline, I’d give any notes or suggestions, and he’d go off and write. I don’t think I ever hardly had any notes. On The Gold Bugs Affair, the main note I had was that I wanted the Collector to end up keeping two of the cyborg pilots because I thought they were so cool we should use them in future adventures—which we did in the Fate of All Fools graphic novel.

Since our collaboration is long distance, not a lot has changed, I think as long as I’m clear up front what the goals are, Richard then can find better and unique solutions than I can ever think of. The main thing is, I trust Basil and Moebius being in Richard’s hands. He knows the characters. Especially I think he’s got Moebius’s use of language and humor spot on. I try to focus on structure and action set-pieces—the frame of the house, and I can trust Richard to come in and furnish and decorate it with his impeccable taste.

Richard, now that you’ve written both prose and comic versions of these characters, how do you compare the experience of working in either medium?

Richard Lee Byers: When Ryan brought me onboard with Basil and Moebius, I was pretty much already an old hand at fantasy adventure told in prose, and I simply approached the novelettes in my usual way. Scripting a graphic novel, though, was a new experience for me, and as I set about it, I quickly became aware of just how few words the writer has available. I had to focus on what absolutely needed to be said, say it succinctly, and cut everything else. That was true for establishing character and all the other aspects of the tale. I also had to trust the artist to convey a lot through facial expression, body language, etc. Happily, that trust was not misplaced. The artist Ryan recruited is great. I am immodest enough to say I thought the script was a good piece of writing, but the art enhances it in spectacular fashion.

Ryan, you’re collaborating with a number of people on these stories. What are some of the surprising strengths of your collaborators?

Ryan Schifrin: Let me just say how incredibly lucky I’ve been to collaborate with these incredibly gifted people, whose work I’ve been a fan of—as in I’m a big fanboy myself. I remember reading Larry Hama’s GI Joe comics when I was eight years old, and reading Tim Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy when Star Wars was a dormant franchise. It was inspired work. And Richard, of course, I think Dissolution was the first book of his I read, and it was a twisted take on Fafhrd and the Mouser (which by the way, are also huge inspirations for Basil & Moebius). Larry is a master of condensing action and exposition, Tim is brilliant with detail and plotting, and Richard’s dark sense of humor always cracks me up.

Larry doesn’t really outline anything, especially in comics, he makes it up as he goes along, so I think he’s surprising himself and the reader at the same time. He literally doesn’t know how it’s going to end until he gets there, and I admire how he seemingly paints himself into a corner, and always finds a solution you’d never think of. With the prose short stories we’ve done, I’ve seen outlines from all the authors ahead of time, so there were no plot twists I was unaware of. Tim’s always done a job good writing about military adventure, especially his Hand of Judgement stormtroopers. So I did urge him to write Basil-centric stories, which would focus on his early career in the S.A.S. and loop in his old military buddies and things like that. Richard would then focus on more of the Moebius-centric stories, and his moral grey areas and twisted sense of humor. The other authors all did great work, but Tim and Richard wrote multiple stories, so I’m mentioning those specifically.

Richard Lee Byers: At the start, Ryan asked me to do stories analogous to the standard episodes of a modern TV drama. Basil and Moebius have an adventure that essentially leaves them where we found them. It is (if I did my job well) a whole lot of fun, but if it wasn’t part of the series, all the other stories would still be just the same.

After I’d written a couple stories and (I trust) not screwed anything up too badly, Ryan and I started talking about how the series as a whole could evolve, and in due course he invited me to work with him on a story analogous to the “mythology” episode of a TV show, a tale that addresses the characters’ basic situation and has the potential to change the status quo. The Fate of All Fools is that story. Basil and Moebius fans, this is what it’s all been building up to. It’s not the end of the saga (thank God), but it is the finale to the first grand movement of it.

What are the creative advantages of prose, comics, and film respectively? Have you encountered a story you felt could be told better by one of those media? Or do Basil & Moebius stories naturally lend themselves to visual more than prose storytelling?

Ryan Schifrin: This is a great question. First and foremost, to me the characters are the important thing, not the medium. In prose and comics, you don’t have to worry about the budget. You can be as epic as you want, can blow up all the stuff you want. Prose allows you to get into the thoughts and motivations of a character the most easily.

Comics are fantastic because they’re visual, and you can really show what you see in your head and anyone can instantly “get it.” Film allows you to have actors, who always bring something unexpected, and music, which can really add so much emotion. I never have a story and then try and figure out which medium would best fit it. I do the opposite—I first look at the medium and then decide, given the parameters, what story would best work within them.

In film, the main parameter is always money. How much can we afford to spend on actors, on sets, on renting equipment, payroll for crew, catering? The short film had to take place in one location, because of this. So that sets a creative challenge, to craft a story that works best in that setting. If you like the characters, I’d like to believe that the medium doesn’t matter, you want to go with them on whatever journey they are on.

Keep an eye on Magnetic Press for Basil & Moebius news.

 

Creative Colleagues Roundtable: Heroic Fantasy Round 3

This December, my merry colleagues tackle questions on Heroic fantasy. Comment here on the blog before the end of December, and one of you will receive a free copy of Prince of Wolves, Master of Devils, Queen of ThornsKing of Chaos, or Winter Witch from audible.com.

If you missed last week’s responses, catch up here.

What was the first heroic fantasy novel you remember reading? Has your own writing emulated it or responded with an alternative take on the genre?

Jeff Grubb: Forgive me for kicking at your applecart, but I don’t know if I agree with the definitions of genre and subgenre.

But let me answer your question first: I started out reading mythology in grade school—no, wait—I started out reading about astronomy and wanting to know about the stories of the constellations and planets and from that got into mythology. From there I would say that my first Fantasy novel was Lord of the Rings, which for me came first, then backing up and reading The Hobbit (and then C.S. Lewis’ Silent Planet trilogy, but never Narnia).

But from looking at your second question, I think you’re using the broad definition of Traditional Fantasy as Heroic Fantasy, and then subgrouping it as Epic and S&S. I would divide Epic and Heroic as two separate parts of Trad Fantasy, and tuck Swords & Sorcery under Heroic. Under that definition the first Heroic Fantasy of the modern era that I encountered was Fritz Leiber’s Fafrhd and Grey Mouser stories.

Here’s my difference between the epic and heroic varieties: Epic is aimed at the outside world, Heroic and the internal and personal world. Epic is big stuff happening—The Illiad, the first Dragonlance Books, the Game of Thrones, Narnia, Lord of the Rings. You switch viewpoints often and individual characters may drop out or die entirely along the way.

Heroic Fantasy is dialed much further down, to the actions of individuals—Conan, Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, The Odyssey, Cugel the Clever, and the vast bulk of Forgotten Realms books. (Yes, we have epics in the Realms, but even they tend to be strained through the Heroic lens.)

In any event, one has to run long and hard to escape the shadow of Grandfather Tolkien. So much of what is written in fantasy, particularly in the shared worlds we have occupied, are descendants from LotR, sometimes by several generations, but his influence is hardwired into us. Multiple races, strong moral or ethical concerns, mixtures of tech levels under myriad nationalities, changing the world through your actions—yeah, all of that comes JRRT.

I have written both—The Brother’s War for Magic: The Gathering is definitely in the epic category, and the Alias books are very heroic in nature. I have also played around with additions of other strains and varieties—The Wyvern’s Spur looks to another British Author—P.G. Wodehouse, for inspiration and characterization. Giogi and Bertie Wooster could get together at some pub and compare their awful aunts. Cormyr: A Novel was initially pitched as the fantasy version of a James Mitchner novel, where you get the history of Nebraska or some other land-locked state through the actions its people. I would go with epic for Cormyr, but its pieces are heroic.

Chris A. Jackson: I was much more into science fiction than fantasy as a kid, so the first novels that I read that could be called a heroic fantasy was the John Carter series by Edgar Rice Burroughs. That was a very long time ago, and a very long time before I started writing.

I think I’ve taken the heroic fantasy a different direction than Burroughs. I like my heroes to come from nothing, to struggle to attain their heroism, and to sometimes be on the wrong side of the “good vs bad” equation (at least as far as the law is concerned) at the beginning of the story. I also very much believe that heroes need to be flawed, fragile, imperfect, and fallible. I have difficulty with stories where the hero is always right, has the best solution to every problem, and always comes out on top.

Stephen D. Sullivan: I’m not entirely sure what my first heroic fantasy novel was.  It may have been a fantasy book I read in 4th grade. I don’t remember the name of it, but I do remember that it had at least one knight and a friendly dragon named “Poof” that no one thought really existed until the hero found it. That year, I also read Secret Under the Sea (Gordon R. Dickson), which was about a boy a his dolphin trying to protect their sea lab—kind of a science-fiction fantasy novel.

If you discount books about monsters and SF, probably my earliest fantasy reading was about Greek and Roman myths, and then the Norse as well. Those formed the backstory to everything that came after. It was Lord of the Rings, though, that really changed my reading habits and put fantasy on my reading list equal to (or maybe ahead of) science fiction, monster books, and detective stories. Perhaps ironically, it was love of LoTR that kept me from playing that “knock-off” game D&D for at least a couple of years.  I eventually started playing D&D to date the DM’s sister, who was also a player, in January 1977—and that was an even bigger life-changing event, as anyone who knows me (or checks Wikipedia) will attest.

Howard Andrew Jones: My first was Fritz Leiber’s Swords Against Death, which wasn’t exactly a novel, but it was a book, and I’m going to count it because it had a huge impact upon me. I still hold that it’s the finest of the Fafrhd and Gray Mouser collections, and it opened a whole genre of adventure for me. But if we must get technical, the first novel I read in a sword-and-sorcery vein was Roger Zelazny’s Nine Princes in Amber, which also blew my doors off. The two of those novels had such an immense impact upon my preferences in writing. I love the witty banter and camaraderie to be found in Leiber, and the astonishing world building and hidden secrets in Zelazny. In a lot of ways Zelazny remains the alternative take on fantasy; few have really followed in his wake. His influence isn’t as apparent in my tie-in fiction, but I think it will be immediately obvious to anyone reading my upcoming series. As for Leiber, at his best, say in “Bazaar of the Bizarre” he’s so damned good he’s nigh untouchable, and you can only stand back and marvel about how everything works on a sentence level and a paragraph level and plot and character level… We’re still trying to catch up.

I’ve tried to bring a little bit of that Leiberish focus on characters into everything I write, although I’m always more interested in heroes than rogues, which means, I suppose, that I’m stepping out of his mold a little. It’s hardly alternative, it’s just the application of some of the things I liked in his writing and twisting them a little to fit in with my own preferences.

Heroic fantasy is a blanket term that includes popular genres like epic fantasy and sword & sorcery. Do you feel epic and S&S are mutually exclusive? Or can (and should) we mix them like peanut butter and chocolate? Are there some other, overlooked subgenres of heroic fantasy? And does grimdark fit under this blanket or lie outside?

Jeff Grubb: I think Epic Fantasy and S&S are both parts of Traditional fantasy, and that it is more of spectrum than a binary switch. We can say that a story is more heroic or low fantasy or one tends toward the high fantasy/epic end of the scale. It is more of a measurement than a classification of type.

Does your definition of Heroic Fantasy (which I’m going to call traditional) include such Urban fantasies as the Harrys—Dresden and Potter. Harry Potter also heads up a horde of YA Fantasy. Grimdark has a booth at the Tradfantasy fair, and even New Weird Fantasy, like China Mieville’s Perdido Street Station or Jay Lake’s Trial of Flowers have something to say to greater discussion. Magical Realism like Umberto Eco also has its say.

What would I keep out of Traditional/Heroic Fantasy? I would probably put Horror in its own pavilion, though even that has fantastic elements—The American Fantasy/Dark Fantasy tradition with Poe and Lovecraft and King, all uses fantastic parts but finds its way to different part of the bookstore. Its attempt to evoke something different that traditional fantasy. The sense of horror as opposed to wonder—the awful as opposed to the awesome, the sense of dread as opposed to triumph, all set these stories into another category that ignores whether they have orcs and/or dragons in them.

Chris A. Jackson: I’m a big fan of both peanut butter and chocolate, and the analogy. The edges of genres are breaking down so much now that splitting hairs between subgenres like “heroic fantasy” versus “swords and sorcery” seems to me rather like picking apart the ingredients in a dish like chili and trying to decide if it should be characterized as “Southwest cuisine,” “Tex-Mex,” or something else entirely. As with the food analogy, from a culinary standpoint, I understand the distinction, but I’d much rather simply make my chili and enjoy it.

Subgenres, from my point of view as a writer, can be traps. When I draft a story, I don’t sit down and decide if this story is going to be swords and sorcery or epic fantasy. I think of the premise, the characters, and the plot that needs to drive the story forward in a logical direction that real people would take. If the story goes epic, the novel or series could fall into the epic fantasy category. If the story stays small and not world-changing, we’re talking more swords and sorcery. Having my work characterized into these subgenres, or labeled with marketing categories like YA (And don’t get me started by trying to tell me that YA is a genre.) is always entertaining. Arguing whether it fits into one genre or another is rather like arguing with a reviewer; it’s an exercise in futility. Without any effort on my part, my work has fallen into many subgenres. I don’t argue about this issue at all, and never will. If a reader prefers to call my work “romantic fantasy” because there are always human (and sometimes not so human) love interests in the story, that’s fine with me. As long as they have fun reading it, my job is done.

Howard Andrew Jones: I don’t think that they’re mutually exclusive at all, although I’d much rather see S&S elements in Epic than Epic elements in S&S. To my mind at least, Epic often means bloat, and I am so very tired of vast sections of books that don’t really do anything but add page count. I tend to be impatient with my reading, though. Now if you could grant sword-and-sorcery pacing and put that in an Epic length novel—stripped of sword-and-sorcery’s worst characteristics like frying pan to fire plotting and sexism—that would be something to read. I’ve been hammering away at something that I suppose is an approach on that, but even at 120k it’s not really Epic size.

If sword-and-sorcery is old school metal edged out by Epic’s glam rock, then Grimdark is sort of like the punk assault on Epic’s glam rock, with roots in sword-and-sorcery. I’m all for it, but I tire a little of too much grit on my heroes so that they’re not actually heroic. Also, I get enough nihilism and brutality when I read the news. I want to read about heroes who dare to rise above all that.

 

 

Dave B&WDave Gross is the erstwhile editor of such magazines as Dragon, Star Wars Insider, and Amazing Stories. He has written novels set in the Forgotten Realms, Iron Kingdoms, and the world of Pathfinder Tales. His latest novel is Lord of Runes, and his most recent story “The Wendigo” in Gods, Memes, and Monsters.

Jeff Grubb

Jeff Grubb

Jeff Grubb is a best-selling author and award-winning game designer. He is one of the founders of both the Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms settings, and has written for Magic: the Gathering, Warcraft, and Star Wars. He currently keeps and maintains the world for the Guild Wars 2 game from ArenaNet. He lives in Seattle with his wife Kate and two horribly spoiled cats.

Chris A. Jackson

Chris A. Jackson

Chris A Jackson’s genres of choice are nautical fantasy, magical assassin stories, and now contemporary horror/fantasy. His novel “Dragon Dreams” was just released by The Ed Greenwood Group, his next Pathfinder Tales novel, Pirate’s Prophecy, will release in February, and his award-winning Weapon of Flesh series will continue next summer with Weapon of Pain.

Howard Andrew Jones

Howard Andrew Jones

Howard Andrew Jones is the author of three Pathfinder novels, the most recent of which is Beyond the Pool of Stars, and a critically acclaimed Arabian Fantasy series. He can be found lurking at www.howardandrewjones.com, where he blogs about writing craft, gaming, fantasy and adventure fiction, and assorted nerdery.

 

Stay a while and listen…

Cover by Matthias Kollros

Cover by Matthias Kollros

When asked where to start reading the Radovan & the Count saga, I no longer go through the whole routine of figuring out whether the person asking prefers gothic horror, wuxia, high fantasy, demon wars, and so on just to direct them to a particular novel or story. Instead, I say, “Start with Queen of Thorns.”

Better yet, give it a listen. Paul Boehmer’s narration is outstanding. I may never again read these books aloud but simply point people to the download link.

Help Kick the Tires

After some sage tutelage from my pal Brad, I’ve been streamlining and redesigning the site. Today I think I’ve finished restoring the missing content (although there’s some, like the “press” page, that I’ve purposefully left out).

If you’ve run out of cat videos today, would you mind looking around, pressing some links, and letting me know if you find a dead page or any XXX or TBA markers I might have left in my wake?

At the same time, if there’s anything you’d like to see me add, please say the word. I’m happy to entertain requests.