Showing posts with label sci-fi fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sci-fi fantasy. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Interview with sci-fi fantasy author Robert Gryn


Author Robert Gryn is in the hot seat today and we’re talking about his new sci-fi fantasy, The Infinity of Roads – Suns of the End Volume Three.

Bio:
Robert Gryn was born in Poland during the latter years of the communist regime. His parents recognized that the socialist experiment was doomed to fail and set out for the more hopeful shores of America. Robert spent his youth moving from one school to another, winding up in one of the worst high schools in New Jersey. After graduating, Robert spent years working odd jobs in warehouses and construction sites. Like his parents before him, Robert soon realized that the personal experiment of his own life was doomed to fail.

Determined to find a better path, Robert decided to attend Columbia University where he studied everything from Psychology to Japanese, as well as Creative Writing. Unfortunately, even graduating with highest honors didn’t put him on a path that spoke to him. He drifted again, and accidentally wound up becoming a successful technology consultant, primarily because he knew how to turn on a computer.

It was a beach vacation to St. Martin that changed his life once again. Bored with the bright
sunlight and the pristine beaches he sat down to begin writing the books that had always been in the back of his mind. He soon found that he was not so much a writer but a chronicler, as if the words had drifted into his mind from all those future centuries. What could he do but tell the stories of all those people who may never exist?

Robert has written a number of novels of impossible futures and unbelievable dreams. And as long as he knows how to turn on a computer, or commune with the thinking machines of tomorrow, he will continue to do so. 

Welcome, Robert. Please tell us about your current release.
The Infinity of Roads is the third volume in the Suns of The End series. The series is set at the end of the universe. All but a few stars have gone out or have been extinguished in stellar wars between beings that blur the line between machines and gods. The story centers around a number of characters, most of whom are just trying to survive the wars that continue to rage between the children of the gods.

In a higher layer of the cosmos, the hero Solaz deals with becoming more machine than man as he searches for a way to save a dying world made of light. On the crumbling world of the Shell, Deya, the last general of one of the immortals, struggles for survival in a frozen wasteland. Around the shadowed covered world of Uin, the twin immortal sisters Namtilak and Asuruludu continue their war to decide who will rule the Kingdom of All. The newly knighted Rider Haspar pilots her great armor through the void in the conflict between the divine sisters. Meanwhile, Darsen, the former ruler of the Kingdom of All, searches for his own origins across the fabled Seven Worlds. And somewhere amid the dreams and sentient formulas of forgotten machines, a spirit is reborn.

What inspired you to write this book?
The Suns of the End series was inspired by the Hindu epic poem The Mahabharata. While my story is not a straightforward retelling, I drew on the themes and characters from the poem. I also tried to incorporate ideas and concepts from the whole of sci-fi and fantasy. As the story is set at the end of the universe, everything has happened and so pretty much anything is fair game to appear.

This series is also something of an experiment in writing for me. In my other novels, I take a more strategic view to storytelling, but in the Suns of the End I write down ideas as they come into my mind and try to reconcile them into a cohesive story. The first volume, Fields of Rust, was originally drafted almost entirely by instinct. I like to say that I’m not so much a writer but a chronicler of stories told to me from the far future.

Of course, the reality is that I’m not some prognosticator savant but rather I draw on the sum total of the technological and mythological zeitgeist that spawns modern works of sci-fi and fantasy. I also take a liberal hand in shaping these instinctive ideas utilizing the tools of fiction writing. The result is something that I enjoy as it touches on so many chords of the stories I’ve read or seen in my life. I hope others do so as well, but even when I see critical reviews, they don’t affect me as much as reviews for my other novels because, at the end of the day, the Suns of the End is something I write primarily for myself. It’s the story I always wanted to read and will continue to read as long as its author continues to surprise me. (I have ten volumes planned, but it may take me the rest of my life to get there.)


Excerpt from The Infinity of Roads:

Darsen smiled. Every time he forgot that he had grown so young again, someone reminded him, to his surprise. He made a show of checking the diving suit he had bought for this expedition. It was more like a lesser armor worn by the warriors of the Seven Worlds than an outfit for sport. Only its gaudy colors and unnecessary embellishments made it something unsuited for combat. Even its aura was colored for aesthetics, glowing with colors matching different parts of the suit. On the back of the suit, four gravity wings shimmered in the air. An ornate far-rifle was slung in three pieces on his thighs. How unnecessary it all seemed. Darsen could have dove into the overgrowth naked. But in maintaining the pretense of normalcy, he had learned a fair bit in the last few days about the wants and thoughts of people he would have never met in court.
Most of those he encountered were content in their small personal worlds. They wished for enough coin to eat and drink their fill. Many simply wished to be entertained, whether by crude theatre or the sporting events in which Darsen had proved so capable. That a war now raged between two of the Vedalan on some small, little-known world seldom entered the conversation.
The bosun gave him the all clear, and Darsen dove off the side of the yacht. He had a glimpse of its long sleek shape and then all he saw was the tall antennas and stacks that emerged from the convoluted mass below. He could not tell where one factory ended and another began. Signs of power, smoke, and motion indicated that the factories on the surface were still alive.
Darsen let himself fall among the gaps in their architecture. In the higher layers, he did not have to use his gravity wings, simply turning his body to fall between the wide gaps in the structures. However, his path soon became filled with bridges, pipes, and assembly lines. He now used the wings sparingly, still falling, turning when necessary. Predatory drones watched him and a few even gave chase, their engines flaring plasma as their hungry talons extended from their manipulators. Darsen saw more and more machine fauna as he fell. Great forge beasts with smoking bellies, multi-legged cattle running in great vertical herds, clouds of mechanized insects whose formations were meaningful symbols or forgotten mandalas.
The path through the factories grew dark, and Darsen realized that he had fallen to a section where ancient behemoths breathed their last until there was no motion, no mechanical life. He alighted on the ground here, where there was nowhere else to fall. Whether this was the actual ground or the vast roof of some lower factory was unclear. He stood in a cavernous chamber strewn with broken engines and quiet machines. What purpose this place had served or what it had manufactured, he could not immediately tell. The only light fell in distinct shafts from broken sections of the ceiling. Some of these beams had the soft color of Brass’s orange sky, while most were the green of generators and plasma fires that still burned high above.
Darsen looked up through the coral-like formation of the factories. He could no longer see the yacht from which he had made his leap. Were he a mundane man, he might have experienced fear at this moment. The way back, if he could find it, would be difficult if not impossible. He was surrounded by dead machines and a growing dread at the edge of awareness that the stillness was not true death but the expectant silence before the ambush.


What exciting story are you working on next?
I have several projects in the works currently. I recently completed a novel about a two-sided city where all realities and people meet called Two Skies Before Night. The people who come to dwell in this city are all inadvertent refugees. The city allows them to understand each and anything written but the price is that they can’t write anything, not even graffiti. The story follows a detective who is trying to solve a double murder which takes him from the poor neighborhoods of Below to the homes of the rich and powerful of Above.

I’m currently working on a final draft of an epic fantasy tale set in a universe where Lovecraftian gods have ruled over an empire of worlds for millennia. The story focuses on a warrior who is betrayed and finds herself with nothing left but revenge. As she journeys through the normalized dystopias of several different worlds, the fairy tale that was her life slowly falls away and she comes to realize that reality is something harsh and capricious.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I remember telling my friends in high school that I was going to be a writer. But it took me years to sit down and actually start writing. Once I did, I found that I had a lot of stories to finish. I suppose a good deal of my need to write comes from all the sci-fi/fantasy novels, films, and shows I’ve read or seen over the course of my life. You can only fill your head with so much before it comes spilling out.  

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
After working for some years as a consultant, I’ve been lucky enough to work on my writing full time for the last few years. As a non-morning person, I usually work on non-creative stuff before lunch and then dive into actual writing after lunch. I’ve also had good success writing in the evenings, especially when my supply of coffee doesn’t run low. But I tend to get some of my best ideas while jogging or doing martial arts. Something about raising your metabolism gets those sci-fi synapses firing.

As for things other than writing, I confess I’m a bit of an escapist. I’m always happiest dwelling in another world, whether that’s books, films, TV shows, video games, or just daydreams.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I didn’t really know how to answer this question so I started looking up what exactly is a quirk. Is it some kind of little-known subatomic particle or just another way to flag something that doesn’t fit into our definition of normal expected behavior? And maybe this is my quirk, that when I’m writing I take a reductionist view of many things, trying to understand where they come from before including them in my stories. I suppose it’s hard for me to take anything for granted.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A Shaolin monk, then Doctor Who, then a samurai, and back around again.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Because everything comes from something, here are some recommendations for the kind of fiction I enjoy, and that make up my own personal canon:

Book: One of my favorite hard sci-fi novels that feels almost too realistic (in a scary way). And one of the few books I’ve actually read more than once.

Graphic Novel: Hayao Miyazaki’s epic tale of war after an ecological apocalypse can change the way one looks at comic books or their Japanese equivalent, manga.

Film: Seeing this performance was what originally inspired me to study and write about the Mahabharata.

Music: I listen to My Sleeping Karma a great deal while writing.

Thank you for visiting today!

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Interview with sci-fi novelist Lynn Steigleder


Novelist Lynn Steigleder has stopped by today to chat a little bit about his new sci-fi fantasy, Terminal Core.

Welcome, Lynn. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.
I was born in Virginia. I spent most of my young adult life as a supervisor in the field of construction and fabrication. When my department was outsourced within two months of my diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, I realized the need to transition into a new career path.

During a fishing trip, my son suggested I consider writing as a career having enjoyed short stories I had written in years past. I agreed to the challenge and my first novel, Rising Tide, was accepted for publication. I have continued to work on the Rising Tide series. Eden’s Wake is the second book and Deadly Reign the third in the series published by Christopher Mathews Publishing. My fourth offering, Terminal Core is a stand-alone sci-fi/fantasy hybrid. There are two more novels in the draft stage close to completion. Number four in the Rising Tide series and another stand-alone hybrid.

Please tell us about your current release.
Aon, a solid core planet made from the priceless and most dense element in the galaxy (caladium) is under silent attack. Plans are made by off-worlders to dissolve the unbreakable core using crude oil obtained from 19th century earth. Once the oil is refined, the byproduct, gasoline will soften the caladium, allowing it to be collected. Separate alliances unwittingly come together in the dead city of Baine. Their objective; preserve the planet. The core is fashioned from living beings, these indestructible creatures prepare to defend their domain. Disregarding all else, the would-be thieves continue to process the pilfered caladium. Once the coalition melds into a solid force, a battle for life and world begin.

What inspired you to write this book?
I have enjoyed Science Fiction and action adventure since I was a young boy. The old movies with stop motion animation were amazing in their day, but left a lot to be desired after go-motion hit the silver screen in 1993 with Jurassic Park. Everything I read pertained to Science Fiction or one of its sub-genres. I guess that pretty much set the stage for subject matter when I began writing. As far as Terminal Core, there is no particular reason for penning this novel other than an idea popped into my head and the story evolved into what it is as I wrote.



CLAY STEPPED UP onto the raised walkway.
"I hate this place," he mumbled, patting his sidearm. He grabbed the door handle and prepared to enter.
Clay was a bounty hunter. His latest skip (if you want to call him that since Clay had spent the better part of two years chasing empty leads) was Sal Ricky—a career criminal with a taste for refined women, as he would consume certain body parts of his victims after performing whatever atrocities piqued his fancy.
Clay stood tall, six foot five. He almost always wore black, except for his blue jeans. He felt it more intimidating.
He stepped into the brothel. A dozen pair of eyes turned his way. Clay removed his sidearm from its holster.
"I'm looking for Sal Ricky," he announced. After a slight pause, he repeated the phrase. "I said, I'm looking for Sal Ricky."
"If you want me, all you gotta do is ask," came a smug response. The voice emanated from a dark corner. In it stood a six-foot tall figure. Instead of legs, it sported four eight-foot-long appendages. These members would shoot forward landing on the ground and allow the rest of the body to move over them like treads on a tank. He could move surprisingly fast when necessary.
"So?" Sal Ricky asked. "What can I do for you?"
Clay moved closer toward the corner and cocked his weapon.
"Don't play stupid, you ball of snot." He raised his free hand and pointed a finger. "I've been looking for you for almost two years now." Clay cocked the second hammer on his handgun. "This time you're all mine."
Sal Ricky was a hydrak. He lived up to his name, constantly oozing fluid and leaving a trail similar to that of a slug when he moved.
"Ya think so." The creature lit a cigarette with two human-like hands. The hydrak inhaled deeply, burning up half the smoke in one drag.
"Better men have tried," he said, finishing his cigarette with a second drag and dropping it into a puddle of slime; the butt hissed as the glowing ashes died.
Clay tightened his grip.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I get just as much for you dead as alive." Clay smiled out of one corner of his mouth. "It makes no difference to me."
Sal Ricky crossed his arms which were anything but human. They were muscular with a lizard-like texture and a green color to match. His lower half was bulbous and horizontal to the ground, turning vertical at mid-thorax until it formed his head.
"Don't you tire of the same old clichés?" Sal Ricky snickered. "Easy way, hard way, alive or dead, blah, blah, blah. After two years, you should know I do nothing the easy way." His head was square with a round circle on each side. Sal Ricky could spin his neck three hundred and sixty degrees if need be. He had a set of eyes at the upper portion of each circle. One side contained an orifice with which he spoke and took in nourishment. One big tuft of green hair sprang from the center of his scalp, climbed vertically, about a foot, and then flopped over on all sides.
"Have it your way," Clay said.
Just then, two dark humanoid figures appeared on either side of the slug. The first figure made a move and then slipped on his boss' excretions, landing flat on his back.
Clay rolled to his right behind a steel column and fired one barrel, removing most of the second figure's head. The first man, still floundering in the goo, was an easy take out.
Sal Ricky moved toward Clay knocking him to the floor as he passed by.
Clay moved to one knee and steadied himself. He would have but one shot.
Sal Ricky could easily burst through the wall, and that's what he had a mind to do, Clay surmised. He made sure both hammers were cocked. Cocking them was one thing; firing both at the same time was something you didn't do unless you had to.
Clay took a deep breath and pulled both triggers.


What exciting story are you working on next?
A thriving world is sent spiraling into the depths of degradation along with its inhabitants. Dalon Con along with several like-minded factions attempt to bring Burrus Plax back to normality. The twentieth century type world has but three cities. Two are dead on the surface and the third nearly gone. Time travel brought by the odobi play a part in the destruction and recovery of Burrus Plax. Whether the former or latter will be determined by the temporal vortex. Deadly exotic creatures abound making every step the ones primed to save this world make the potential to be their last. 

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I’m not sure at this point I consider myself a writer. I feel a certain measure of success comes with the title.

Do you write full-time? If so, what’s your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I write full-time. I have a caregiver/personal assistant who types and tries to keep me straight, which is a job in and of itself. We usually start around 8:30 a.m. each week day and complete our day around 6:30 p.m. The first half of the day is devoted to marketing. I also post a weekly blog, a monthly newsletter and an occasional short story. The second portion of the day is devoted to the current manuscript I am writing.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I make no preparations before I begin a new manuscript. I grab an idea and fly by the seat of my pants. In this way the novel tends to write itself.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A paleontologist

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
I write because I love to write. If I take a day or two off I find myself jonesing to get back at it. There is no offensive language or sexual situations in any of my novels; however, when you have to dispose of demons and vice versa the violence can get a little intense. In addition, the majority of my writing could also be classified as action adventure. I tend to pack my books with action and very little down time.

Links:

Thanks for being here today, Lynn!