Anders Monsen

Lost worlds and ports of call

Month: May 2021

Out of sequence series

May 26, 2021 /

My copy of Robert McCammon’s novel, Mister Slaughter, arrived today. I read his first book in the series, Speaks the Nightbird, in 2019 or 2020 – the pandemic and its lockdown messed with my sense of time. Next, and just this year, I read the latest novel, Cardinal Black, which I think is the seventh in his series of books set around 1700, from America to England and elsewhere. Between those two books there are five other novels, all long out of print, and also mostly from small press publishers in limited numbers. This means they now far exceed their original published price. Now, I have two of those five “in-between” novels and, naturally, as with many series I’ve stumbled across “late to the party,” I’ve read them out of order. I lack books two, five, and six. Number two is my main goal, I think, as I’d like to know how McCammon continued his series after the first book. The others, while intriguing, merely flesh out the story.

Of those three books that remain in the middle which I don’t have (and I’m not sure if I should add the word, “yet” to that sentence), I wonder where’s my threshold? Do I pay whatever price I find on the collector’s market? Do I try to wait and see, hoping for new editions? I do like the fact that I have them in their original editions (though not all are firsts, and at some point the publishers changed).

This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. I sometimes wonder when I pick up books in series, whether I should wait until I have the right sequence, and then start from the beginning. Or, should I just jump right in and read them, and the order be damned?

Then again, I’ve read many series in the right order, because I was able to buy the first book first, found it enthralling enough to continue, and that made the experience richer. Jack Vance’s Lyonesse books come to mind, as his Cadwal chronicles and Planet of Adventure novels. (Although, his five Demon Prince novels I likely ready out of order, but I found it didn’t matter as much.) There’s also F. Paul Wilson’s Repairman Jack series, which spans more that a dozen books, and probably a few trilogies here and there.

Usually the first scenario happens; I read what I have at that moment, in sequence or not. That was the case with Julian May’s Adversary cycle, years ago. It was the case with Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, several mystery series (Billy Boyle, Inspector Montalbano, Wahloo and Sjovall’s Swedish mystery novels, Jørn Lier Horst’s novels, Gunar Staalensen’s books, and many more), plus a few SF series and other interconnected novels. It’s also happened with TV shows, so I guess I’m just an impatient person. Today I finally watched the first episode of the Murdoch Mysteries, a TV show where I’ve seen almost all episodes from seasons one through eight. Did it seem like the first episode? Not really. Not like Castle, another TV show I liked for a few years.

Books often give a brief summary of what happened in earlier stories, although a few paragraphs as a summary never feels like the real thing. Now that I have Mister Slaughter, which is referenced in a later book that I already read, The Providence Rider, there’s a heightened sense of awareness, I think, which probably clouds my enjoyment of the novel. I just can’t help it, I guess, as I want to read the books that I have, regardless of where they fit into a series. After all, it’s not like I can order the earlier once from online book sellers at retail prices, or hop down to the nearest bookstore. Books are limited, and should be taken advantage of the moment one has them, unless you either have patience, or get in on the ground floor.

Maybe, I should delay my gratification. I could, with certain books like the Montalbano series, or Billy Boyle, have done just that, but as I’m a haphazard collector, I’m also a haphazard reader. Life is short; read what you have.

Awaiting new books

May 24, 2021 /

I’m sure there’s some long German word for when you’re eagerly awaiting a new book from a certain small press publisher, and checking their website each week you see nothing in the forthcoming books section from that publisher.

Around this time each year I’ve come to expect announcements of the latest installment in a certain series of books by a certain author, from a certain publisher. These are replacing my old and treasures paperback editions, but it looks like I need to wait a little longer.

Approaches to music albums

May 19, 2021 /

Recently I read an interview with musician Paul Weller (The Jam, The Style Council, 16 solo albums), who said he’s not sure he’ll write another album after his last one. The way people listen to albums has changed, he said, all due to streaming. This made me reflect upon my approaches to albums.

I’ve bought music since the early 1980s. Back then you bought cassette tapes or vinyl. I didn’t have a record player, so I listened to tapes on either my Sony Walkman or a portable stereo. I still own many of those cassettes. I did buy a record player in 1986, and a few vinyl records, right before the Compact Disc (CD) wave took over and made both cassettes and vinyl virtually obsolete. People still bought those formats, but the world shifted to CD at some point around the 1980/1990 s crossover. With cassettes and vinyl you couldn’t really skip tracks. Sure, you could lift the needle and try to aim for a track, but more often that not you sat through one side, flipped the record, and sat through another, just to find the one or two songs on the album you liked. Cassette players let you “fast-forward” through songs, and some newer ones would even advance to the next track. But otherwise, you were stuck. Usually, you’d get a couple of great tracks on an album, maybe a few more, but the rest were fillers, crappy songs that felt slapped together because the band had to have 10 tracks for an album, and albums were usually produced quickly.

If that was a great way to listen to albums, Mr. Weller, then that’s not how I remember it.

Unlike with CDs and vinyl, I bought a ton of CDs. I grimaced each time, as they cost a lot more. Still, I didn’t have to mess with tape, nor (for the most past) scratched up records. I could play them in a car, at first with a portable player, and then built-in (no longer, it seems). CDs were the future.

Then came the computer and mp3, Napster and sharing, piracy, the Apple store and other online ventures, from unsavory to professional, from ephemeral (Tidal) to lasting. You could rip CDs onto your computer, free tracks from albums and create long play lists. Sure, mix tapes existed before the computer; I made a few myself. It was a way to extract exceptional songs from albums onto your own “best of” album at first. On a 90-minute tape with two side you’d get almost two full albums worth of songs. Creativity was up to you, and in my case I included a host of songs from the 1980s onto my mix tapes. And played them to death. But I also listened to albums. I lived with the bad tracks, just to hear music from my favorite artists.

The digitization of music spelled doom for many bands, it was said. People could (and did) share music freely, without compensation to the artist, and on a grand scale. I moved lots of my music to my computer. I listen to music while I work, and with iTunes was able to create playlists, or listen to songs or artists, or albums. I had thousands of tracks to choose from, as if I ran my own radio station.

Then came streaming. A cheap, new way to consume music – you no longer had to own it. You were chained to the tastes of a music station. You could discover music close to what you already liked, or play the same song over and over and over.

Streaming doesn’t compensate artists well. The owners of the service become billionaires, but the artists? Not so much. Then again, you buy and album once, and listen to it many times. I don’t know the economics of streaming, but an issue that seems to get raised a lot is that with streaming, few people buy (or download) their music. People cluster around famous artists, and maybe they make money (maybe not), but the lesser artists make pennies, even from thousands of streams. Where does the music go, one wonders, when the founder of services like Spotify make millions or billions.

Perhaps I stream music differently, and I do admit that I use a streaming service during most of the day, but not always. I also still buy music, in the form of CDs, vinyl, and downloadable product. I mainly buy albums though – probably 99.99% of the time. When it comes to streaming, my listening approaches are in three ways:

First, I’ll find an album and listen to that, often saving it as a playlist, and playing it multiple times, all the way through.

Second, if there’s a song I play again and again, it goes into a playlist, and this get modified over time.

Third, I let the algorithm discover new tracks, new artists. From this, I sometimes check out albums and move to the first option.

All in all, I don’t know if streaming has changed me that much. Maybe other people have ruined Mr. Weller’s day. I do own several Style Council and Weller albums, whether on cassette, vinyl, CD, or as purely downloaded tracks. But, I haven’t bought all his stuff, especially of late. Part of that’s due to the death of record stores, even record stores within book stores (I’m looking at you, Borders, and partly Barnes & Noble). When the world went digital, discovering albums by musicians you knew wasn’t always as easy, or fun. It got cheaper, sure, as albums tend to cost around $10-12, vs. $18-20. With streaming, it’s even cheaper. You pay $x a month, and listen to as much as you want. Still, I guess I should check out more of Mr. Weller’s works. Maybe that makes no difference to him, but maybe it will let me find albums I like, much like those earlier works that I own.

I actually did buy some new music this week, albums by Beachy Head, Muzz, and Lisa Gerrard & Jules Maxwell. I have others on my list to buy. I also bought one individual song, a cover of New Order‘s “Leave Me Alone” by Thurston Moore. I’m a huge fan of early New Order, though the band’s never been the same since Peter Hook left. Streaming makes me a little lazy sometimes. I don’t alway buy stuff I hear online, although I’ll admit I also stream stuff that I already own. I guess, even though the artists make next to nothing, it’s a way to support them, in my own way, rather than buying their CD once and playing it dozens of times. Still, some of that streaming consumption is albums, from the first track to the last; I just no longer need to pause to flip the record, or eject the tape and put it back the right way to listen to the next side.

The funny thing, without streaming services, I never would have stumbled across Muzz, despite being a huge Interpol fan. As for Beachy Head, I read about them on Twitter, and Lisa Gerrard, from some music web site. Great music is still out there, discoverable. In my case, streaming hasn’t altered my perception of albums — most of them have a few great tracks, some good ones, and the rest can be ignored. At least with digital music you can skip the crappy ones. Still, there’s no accounting for taste, and what I see as crappy others might have as their favorite.

So, Mr. Weller, make some more music, or not. I’ll give your newer stuff a listen. Maybe it will be to my taste, maybe it won’t. You’re still a great artist.

Online vs. in person book purchases

May 17, 2021 /

I really hate buying books online. Even if I order from a major eCommerce site named after a river in South America, I don’t know what I’m getting. Is the book damaged? Is it scratched, or the cover bent? If I order from other online sites, such as auction places, is the book a first edition, or a second printing? The description is rarely clear on this.

When shopping in bookstores, the best bet is one that sells new books. Where I live we now only have one or two such books, at least ones that carry a decent amount of books. Otherwise, it’s used book stores. I never know what to say when cashiers at used book stores ask me whether I found what I was looking for. The easy answer is, “No.” I rarely find specific books in used book stores. I take a list with me of books I own, and check against this list if I find something of interest, but rarely will there be a book in the shelves there that match what I’m really looking for. But, at least I can hold the book in my hand and decide there and then whether I want to hand over money for that item. I’ve made a few mistakes, yes, missed remainder marks, or writing inside books, or thought I was getting a different edition. But, for the most part, if the book looks off, even though it’s one I don’t have, I’ll put it back in the shelf without a second thought.

When it comes to new book stores, I often as not walk out empty handed, for even the big stores don’t have the books I want. The exception is speciality stores. I was in Houston earlier this year, and stopped by Murder by the Book. I’d never been there, but I walked out with 10-15 books, and could easily have doubled or tripled that number, but I had to stop somewhere. On occasions where I visit San Francisco – over every few years – I’ll drop by Borderlands Books and find stuff that I like. Still, it’s as much the act of being in a book store, browsing the aisles, that makes it interesting. Online purchases aren’t quite as fun.

In Austin, when I lived there, I’d make regular trip to a corner of 6th Street and spend hours in Adventures in Crime and Space (Rest in Peace). Back then I couldn’t afford many books, but I always found books from new authors and old favorites. It felt like a community.

Here in the town where I live, there used to be a book store that specialized in mysteries – Remember the Alibi. This was before I really got back into mysteries, and it’s now long gone. A book store opened in my neighborhood last year, during COVID. Well, it didn’t really open, as you can’t go inside. This makes me sad, if not a little bitter. I’d read about the new place before COVID, and was excited that a book store would exist one mile from where I lived. I could walk there, browse, buy, and maybe get a snack or drink. In fact, I often walk past the closed doors. But, it remains closed to the public. Other bookstores in many cities are open. I visited one in Durango last summer. Mysterious Books in New York City is open, as are the ones that weren’t burned down in Minneapolis. I’ve been in a few others since the panic and lockdowns. Will this one near me ever open? I don’t know. I know that I miss visiting stores and reading the covers of books, or discovering new authors. I’d even planned to take a few hundred dollar bills I’d saved up over the years and plonk them down on the counter, then walk off with a bag full of books.

Instead, I bought a guitar.

Robert McCammon’s Matthew Corbett series

May 17, 2021 /

Here’s another entry in the “haphazard collector” diaries. A few years ago I picked up a massive hardcover by Robert R. McCammon at a local used book store. I’d read read several McCammon books in the 1990s, both in paperback and hardback, from mass-market to small press editions. I have Swan Song in the Dark Harvest edition, signed by McCammon, some early paperbacks like The Night Boat, The Wolf’s Hour, Stinger, and Blue World, and as well as his mainstream hardcovers. Then he seemed to disappear.

The massive hardcover in question (700+ pages) is the novel, Speaks the Nightbird, a work of historical fiction set in the late 1600s in colonial America. The book was enjoyable, with young Matthew Corbett an innocent man struggling to find his place in the world, and fighting impossible odds. Probably a few years after I read the book I learned he’d continued the main character into a series of novels. At first these were published by Subterranean Press, and then Cemetery Dance picked up the baton. Those books are devilishly hard to find, at least at decent prices. A few of them have appeared in second printings, which means they’re expensive, but not insanely so. I bought a couple of these, one from each publisher. They’re out of sequence, of course, but I’m not sure I’ll ever find the others at prices I’m willing to spend.

The Providence Rider is the fourth book in the series, so I lack books two and three. I read this after Cardinal Black, which I think is the seventh book, meaning another gap. More are in the works, and maybe now I’ll be able to pick them up as they get published. If I’m lucky enough to find older copies, I’ll be able to fill in pieces of the overall story.

Matthew Corbett, the main character, is in early twenties. He comes across as a lucky, plucky, but not always very bright person. At times he fades into the background, overshadowed by more interesting characters. In some blurbs he’s compared to an early James Bond. Bond, at least in the movies, was lucky to escape many dastardly traps due to his enemies not just killing him outright. The same seems to the case with Corbett. The historical aspect lends flavor this the novels. There’s a slight aspect of the supernatural, but mostly it deals with the darker aspects of humanity.

It’s too bad McCammon faded out of the mainstream publishing market. He’s a talented writer who knows how to weave a tale, how to keep the reader’s interest. I’ve since gone back and tried to get a few hardcovers of the books I read as paperbacks. I’ve not read all his books, which I guess that’s why I call myself a haphazard collector, as I get ’em when I find ’em.

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