So, the Monetized reviews are rolling in, and people seem to like the story (for the most part.) The main beef seems to be in the main character, who is a bit of a self-absorbed dickhead who’s trying to move past his origin.
But there are other, more interesting comments, such as this one from Velcro City:
“Stoddard is definitely settling into a breezy web-hip post-cyberpunk delivery style that is very much his own – less nerdy than Doctorow, but more Stateside than Stross. Here as in a number of his more recent tales, the subject matter, sociology and buzz-word tech feels quite deliberately close to the favoured discussion topics of the blogosphere geekerati, with the end result that for said demographic there are few writers with as good a sense of the Zeitgeist.
Stoddard’s stories can be sharp and a little satirical, but at their core they tend toward an sf-nal boy’s-own-adventure template set in a California that seems all too possible; Phil Dick and Bill Gibson meeting in 2021 down a dark alley near the Embarcadero to compare P2P tracker URLs and share a crafty joint.”
It’s funny. I’ve always wanted to be a breezy, effortless writer (though I assure you, the creative process is anything but, except for some very short bursts.) But one thing I’ve never wanted to be is typecast. “In his style,” “Like most of his work,” and “In the vein of,” are phrases that scare the hell out of me. Being connected with a style and location is terrifying, because I immediately think, “What happens when people get tired of this?”
And so, it begs the question: are breezy, effortless tales of effective people, set in a fanciful, postmodern Southern California setting enough? Have I taken too few detours into the far future, as in Softly Shining? Have I failed to explore complex mid-future settings, as in the Unfinished series? Have I missed on my alternate histories, such as Panacea and The Elephant Ironclads?
Or is it just that I fall naturally into writing near-future, quasi-positive, fun and easy-to-read adventures? And, most importantly, do I need to go farther? Do I need to delve farther into the darkness that technology may bring, in order to also illuminate the wonders that might happen? Do I need to spend half a decade backpacking across the world to gain a deeper understanding of other cultures?
Maybe.
And also maybe I need to do a better job of communicating my own thoughts and beliefs, ones that don’t center around the crisis du jour, but which go deeper. Can we ever build any kind of sustainable society which doesn’t fall off the far end of the capitalistic or socialistic scales? Given the stunning discoveries of the last few decades, how much do we really know about the world and about ourselves? Is there any kind of structure in government or business, which tends towards both maximum rationality and maximum simplicity? What are the gigantic gotchas — and amazing advances — we are missing? Where does human motivation fit in all this? What happens when we decide, well, to change the very essence of what we are?
Science fiction is the only genre in which we can truly explore these questions. Which is why I work in it. Which is why I may need to push, well . . . even farther.
Here’s to going farther. Anyone else up for the trip?
February 10th, 2009 / 4 Comments »
February 11th, 2009 at 3:05 am
Interesting – you’ve taken what were meant as complements as indicators of a form of failure! Which, as you say, isn’t a bad thing if it enables you to reach further into your own skills; but I don’t think there’s any great harm in having an established voice and style at this stage in your career – I wasn’t trying to pin the badge of cliché on you, y’know.
February 11th, 2009 at 1:13 pm
Paul–don’t get me wrong, I know that you’re being complimentary. Just being mentioned in the same sentence as Doctorow and Stross made my day. It’s just that I have a hyper-paranoia of falling into places where I’ve “been there, done that.” And I’m sure it’s also because I’m finishing up a novel that’s set a few years before Monetized, in a similar universe . . . which ends up being a massively different timeline by the end of the book. I’ll probably explore some new ideas once that’s done, and I’ll feel better.
February 13th, 2009 at 8:52 am
It’s a fine line to walk. When my short story collection came out, some reviews commented on how different all the stories were to each other, while other reviews concentrated on highlighting the similarities. Personally, I think having an identifiable “voice” is a good thing, as long as you don’t let it lapse into self-parody. Many of my early stories were praised for their depictions of “real” human relationships – but I’ve recently been told by an editor that such depictions are a “trope” I need to break away from before they become a cliche. You can’t please all the people all the time, I guess.
February 14th, 2009 at 6:10 pm
I think that a writer questioning himself and his process is a very good thing. Going farther means constantly changing, constantly (trying to) improve yourself.
I’m certainly up for that trip.
Also, I am tempted to comment on a comment, but am refraining.