“Clockwork Chickadee” by Mary Robinette Kowal

Mary Robinette Kowal is a professional puppeteer and a dang good story teller. I ran across her “Clockwork Chickadee” this last summer and forgot to blog about it. Then she won the Campbell Award. And I thought to blog it again. Now it’s November and you see what it means to run on “Brown time.” But however belated my review, this story is marvelous. The images have stuck in my mind since that first reading. And the chickadee, well, let me share the beginning with you.

The clockwork chickadee was not as pretty as the nightingale. But she did not mind. She pecked the floor when she was wound, looking for invisible bugs. And when she was not wound, she cocked her head and glared at the sparrow, whom she loathed with every tooth on every gear in her pressed-tin body.

The sparrow could fly.

He took no pains to conceal his contempt for those who could not. 

I am an impatient reader: if the story doesn’t grab me within the first few lines, I usually pass. I’m trying very hard not to be so demanding and extend this to two pages (no, I do not have the fortitude some readers do to extend this to twenty, forty, or sixty pages). But sometimes I slip back into my old ways. However, with Clockwork Chickadee I didn’t need to remember to be patient. I just read and read and read some more.  

For those who care about story, you’ll notice it doesn’t run on the normal fuel of sympathy and suspense. This is a curiosity story. And Kowal does it so well.

Here’s the text version. But if you have no time to read, that’s no problem. Listen to the audio version right now or download it to your iPod or MP3 player and listen while you’re out and about.

Enjoy!

Share

Similar Posts

  • What you need as a storyteller

    Brand-StorytellerOne of the most important things I ever learned about telling stories was in Orson Card’s weeklong boot camp where we “workshopped” stories by doing zero workshopping. Zero critiques. In fact, critiques were verboten.

    Instead, Card asked us to simply provide a report of what he called the three grunts a reader makes when things aren’t working–where it was boring, unclear, or didn’t ring true.

    We were to provide a report of our reader reaction, including parts that really entertained or interested us. NOTHING more.

    He compared it to going to the doctor. We were to report our “symptoms.” The writer’s job was to diagnose if it was an issue and prescribe a remedy, if any.

    Doing that with 19 stories over three days was amazing. It totally opened up what story was about. And taught me what beta reading was all about. One of the most insightful writing experiences I’ve ever had.

    Nowadays when I read, I try my best to simply report. And that’s it. If, afterwards, the writer wants to brainstorm ideas together, that’s fine. But I don’t ever want to diagnose and prescribe because there have been too many books that didn’t work for me that delighted tons of readers. My critique or advice would have been exactly the wrong thing.

    All I can do is report my reaction. And then think about what would have fixed it for me.

    Kristine Rusch recently wrote a great article about this and other things called “Writing by Committee” in which she suggests a list of things authors need to be successful. Give it a read. I think she makes a lot of good points.

    And a few I disagree with. She is quite forceful about writers not acting as first readers. I think that’s bunk. And she says as much in the comments. If a writer can give a reader response instead of a critique, that’s as helpful as a non-writer giving a reader response. I also disagree that you have to toss something and start over if it doesn’t work. If it’s fundamentally broken, sure. But many times a small adjustment gets you back on track.  Finally, yes, a story has to be surprising. At the same time, you had better deliver the type of experience you promise your reader. And that’s all defined by genre. You can’t promise your readers a thriller and deliver a romance. That only leads to irritated readers. I believe you have to consider your audience. But these are all quibbles. The article is great.

    BTW, please note I used “storyteller” in the title. I did that on purpose. More and more, I find I’m not interested in writing. “Writing” doesn’t seem to convey what I’m after. However, I am interested in telling cracking stories.

    Share
  • |

    This American Life: Superpowers

    What superpower would you rather have–flight or invisibility? What do others choose? Why? What does it say about you?

    Want to hear about a gal named Zora who, as a teen, made a list of everything that a superhero would have to know how to do, things like flying helicopters and diffusing bombs, and then set out to do it. Zora finished her list, btw. She’s a bounty hunter now.

    You can hear this right now on  This American Life episode 178: Superpowers .

    It’s a fabulous hour-long program.

    Share
  • Good Stuff! A Different Kind of Prom

    The first time I attended a high school prom in Rich County, I thought the Rich County people were from another planet.

    I was married. My wife Nellie had grown up in Rich County, and said that we had to go to her little brother’s prom.

    “Your brother’s prom?” I asked. Like, what?

    “Yes, my brother’s prom.”

    Weird, I thought. Because in the big city, older brothers and sisters who have graduated simply do not go to high school proms.

    But I’m always up for strange new experiences, and so we went.

    And I can report that it was indeed strange. In the big city, grandma and grandpa do not attend the prom, nor do mom and dad or little brothers and sisters. And they most assuredly do not sit in the stands and watch the junior class perform a dance.

    But that’s what they did in Rich County. And so I sat next to grandma and grandpa who were nigh unto eighty years old and watched an announcer present the junior class. There was a makeshift stage. And the announcer would announce the names of a young woman and a young man. On the stage, the young woman would take the arm of a young man, and then he would escort her out to the center of the floor to the applause of everyone in the gym. The couple would then perform a little action—he might twirl her, or she him, or she might jump in his arms, or he in hers, or she might lift her dress enough to show she was wearing cowboy boots that matched his, or dozens of other little creative things, and then they’d walk to the side to make room for the next couple.

    In Rich County, there are only forty or so kids in a class, so it didn’t take long. When the juniors were all announced, the whole junior class, in their tuxes and dresses, spread out and took their places on the floor. A song began to play, and then they performed a dance that had been choreographed specifically for the occasion.

    When it finished, the mother or father of each junior went out onto the floor and danced a slow dance with their son or daughter.

    They then presented the seniors in the same way, after which the parents of the seniors went out and danced with their sons and daughters.

    Only when that dance ended did the lights dim and the “normal” dancing begin. Nellie and I danced a few songs, and then she said it was time for us to get some refreshments and go.

    And that’s what we did, leaving the teens to their evening.

    I had never before seen anything like it. I laughed and wondered. Those funny hicks, I thought.

    I took a job in San Francisco for a few years, then another in Columbus, Ohio. And then, years after that hick prom, Nellie and I moved from the big city to Rich County. That was almost thirteen years ago.

    This last Friday I watched as my third daughter was announced and walked down from the makeshift stage. She was escorted by a young man, looking handsome in his tux. I watched him twirl her and another girl (he got to escort two). And when all the seniors had been presented, I got to dance with my girl at the prom.

    I cannot tell you how sweet that was to look in her eyes, to see my little girl grown up into this beautiful, strong woman. I thought about how she was soon going to leave us, and tears threatened to spring into this papa’s eyes, but she smiled and said, “Don’t you dare.”

    What’s a man to do? I obeyed. And instead of blubbering, we danced.

    When we finished, I gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead and returned to the stands.

    I’ve danced six times with my girls at these Rich County proms—once when each was a junior and once when they were seniors. And I love this tradition.

    I love that a huge part of the community comes out to the dance. I love that we honor and applaud these great kids. I love watching the juniors in their gorgeous dresses and handsome tuxes perform these beautiful, formal dances that remind me of something you might find in Victorian England, something that seems to have stepped right out of Pride and Prejudice.

    DSCN5281
    Juniors performing dance
    DSCN5296
    Parents dancing with kids

    What an excellent evening.

    How lucky I am that places like Rich County exist, and that I get to live in one of them.

    Share
  • Amano, Jason’s Deli, and The Hunger Games

    The first time I tasted real chocolate was when I was a teenager in Switzerland. Up until then, I’d only eaten American Hershey nastiness or the left over chocolates at my grandma’s that she’d poked the bottoms out of and passed over. You know what I’m talking about: those yummy mystery fillings with weird chewy bits that make you wonder if the chocolates weren’t designed by toddlers with too much food on their plates. As you can see, I didn’t have a high opinion of the stuff.

    But in the thin oxygen altitudes of the Swiss Alps, I lost my mind and let my sister convince me to try a big flat bar of Swiss milk chocolate with her. We broke off two little pieces. I prepared myself to yak, picked up my piece, and put the chunk in my mouth. She took a bite of hers, and we immediately looked at each other in surprise. We then proceeded to gobble the rest of that large bar and one other before we realized what we’d done. It was so smooth and creamy, so rich, so . . . hallelujah!

    After the heavens closed and I came back to my body, I decided maybe chocolate wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Still, nothing I could find in the States compared, and so the chocolate dream faded. Then I married a girl who came with a special IV that fed chocolate directly to her bloodstream. Needless to say, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to eat all manner of chocolate since then. I’ve even learned to appreciate dark chocolate.

    I found that there is chocolate that you eat as a snack (chocolate biscotti with milk), chocolate that can make a meal (chocolate cheesecake with strawberries), and chocolate that’s meant to be savored. We recently found one of the latter. And it’s not a Swiss concoction. It’s made in, of all places, Orem, Utah.

    The company is called Amano Artisan Chocolate. According to the company’s website: “In 1996 while on his honeymoon, the founder of Amano, Art Pollard decided that there had to be better chocolate than what was being produced in the United States or that of numerous imported varieties. Thus began his search for the ultimate chocolate, which is not bland or flat, but has superior flavor and texture.”

    Of course, my wife and I had to give it a try. I can report that it’s lovely. I prefer the rich milk chocolates; she likes the darks. Again, this isn’t chocolate meant for eating. It’s chocolate meant for savoring. You want to take it slow. Let the taste linger and the secondary flavor notes have their moments. Besides, you won’t need to devour it. My wife, who is about as hooked as any junkie, can get her daily fix of joy with just one little square. If you’re a chocolate lover, you’ll want to give it a try. You can order from their website at www.amanochocolate.com or visit their outlet store in Orem.

    *

    Because we live where we do, we have to travel two gazillion miles each year for shopping, movies, and to watch our kids play sports. After a few trips, burgers make me want to gag. Which is why I’m so happy I found a fabulous fast food soup and sandwich joint. It’s called Jason’s Deli.

    No, it’s not THAT kind of deli—one of those narrow little places full of weird smells and coolers displaying things not meant for human consumption. This is a soup and sandwich shop. Tall ceilings. Lots of tables. Yummy smells. And food that is reasonably priced and delicious.

    I just dragged my wife to the one in Orem this last weekend. She got a Mediterranean Chicken on flatbread with hummus and loved it. I ordered my favorite, their California Club—sprouts, avocado, cheese, and tender meat on a flaky croissant. I always get it with the vegetable soup and fruit, which comes with a small bit of dipping yogurt. And if I’m really hungry, I get a piece of their strawberry shortcake made with real whip cream, not the canned stuff. When you tire of all the same old joints, go to Jason’s Deli. They have locations in Layton, Salt Lake, Murray, and Orem. You can find addresses at www.jasonsdeli.com.

    *

    A week ago Friday, I brushed my teeth, sat down on my bed, and thought I’d read a chapter or two of a book and then go to sleep. At two o’clock a.m. when my wife came home, I was still reading. She got ready for bed. I moved into the bathroom and told myself I would read just one more chapter. Just one. At four o’clock a.m., I finished the book.

    Folks, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins is delicious ride from start to finish. It’s about sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, who lives in a post-apocalyptic world in the country of Panem where North America once stood. In the book, the Hunger Games are an annual televised event where the government of Capitol chooses one boy and one girl from each conquered district to fight until only one is left alive. The games exist to remind the districts they have no hope of any rebellion. The problem is that Katniss’ younger sister, who couldn’t hurt a fly, gets chosen to fight. So Katniss volunteers to take her place. But Katniss’ troubles only multiply. Not only are most of the other 23 fighters bigger than she, but they include a young man from her community who has been nothing but kind to her.

    The book is written to young adults, but this is one of those stories like Twilight and Harry Potter that will please adults as well. It delivers moments of wonder, tenderness, and humor. There’s a love subplot. But it’s the poignant suspense that will literally prevent you from putting the book down.

    I loved this book so much, I immediately read it again as an author to see how she pulled it off and found myself having an even more powerful experience the second time. It’s a best-seller and is going to be made into a movie. But don’t wait. I’m not. There are two more books in the series. And both are in the mail (thank you, Amazon). Here’s to two more joyful (and sleepless) nights.

    Share
  • Interview with Author Bradley Beaulieu

    Bradley P. Beaulieu just had his first novel released on April 1st. It’s called The Winds of Khalakovo and is the first of three planned books in The Lays of Anuskaya series publishehd by Night Shade Books. In addition to being an L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Award winner, Brad’s stories have appeared in various other publications, including Realms of Fantasy Magazine, Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, Writers of the Future 20, and several anthologies from DAW Books. His story, “In the Eyes of the Empress’s Cat,” was voted a Notable Story of 2006 in the Million Writers Award. His agent is Russell Galen.

    Brad is a software engineer by day, wrangling code into something resembling usefulness. He is also an amateur cook. He loves to cook spicy dishes, particularly Mexican and southwestern. He lives in Racine, Wisconsin with his wife and two children. As time goes on, however, Brad finds that his hobbies are slowly being whittled down to these two things: family and writing. In that order . . .

    I recently had the opportunity to interview Bradley. Among other things, we talked about how he broke in and how he comes up with his ideas. He also convinced me to use his picture method, which I’m finding very handy on my current thriller project.

    ***

    JOHN: In your novel an elemental spirit attacks an incoming windship, murdering the heir to a kingdom. The person believed to be behind this is a child, an autistic savant. This sounds like Orson Card tale (grin). Did you come up with this character first, the magic, or something else. Tell us the genesis of the tale and this character in particular.

    BRADLEY: The genesis of the book is actually from a series of postcards of fine art that I picked up in Edinburgh, Scotland. (I posted about it on my website if you’re curious to learn more.) I used that artwork to first generate and then crystallize my thoughts about the book. Initially, I tried not to let any one thing rule the brainstorming I would do from time to time. I didn’t even know who the main characters were at first. I was quite taken by the picture of the three sisters, though, and I knew right away, the moment I laid eyes on the original in the National Gallery, that they would play a major part in the novel.

    But in the end it was the picture of the boy with the flaming brand that kept leaping out at me, calling for attention. The artist is Godfried Schalcken, and the piece is called A Boy Blowing on a Firebrand to Light a Candle. This character eventually became Nasim, the autistic savant. As I was studying the characters, I began to realize that this boy was not going to be a point-of-view character, but he was going to be a prime mover. In the end, he embodies much of what Winds is about. The story truly does revolve around him and his unique powers.

    The brand that he holds in the painting also came into play. I didn’t know what the magic was going to be about. I hardly had a single preconception about the book going in. I just wanted the artwork to speak to me, to advise me as to what the story was going to be–from the characters to the world to the magic. The boy blowing on the brand got me to thinking about elemental magic, and I realized that Nasim was one who could do this without even thinking. It came as naturally to him as did breathing. That’s a difficult place to put a character, however. As a writer, you have to be careful of all-powerful things, and so I needed something to balance Nasim’s abilities. And this, of course, is where his disconnection from the world came from. Nasim, as written in the book, is often lost. He has difficulty relating to others in even the smallest of ways. This both limited his power and made him in some ways more dangerous and more scary than a calculating villain, simply because of the unpredictability.

    I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention Rehada, who started out as a somewhat minor character but grew into the most complex and perhaps the most compelling of my three main characters. Rehada came from Andrew Geddes’ Hagar. It’s another beautiful painting, filled with emotion. I was drawn to the fact that she was crying. I wondered why. I spent a lot of time answering that one question. After knowing that her people were essentially pacifists, I realized that Rehada was not. She felt she had betrayed her people and their ways because she had taken to the path of violence. It was from this, from that one single tear, that the entirety of the Maharraht–the fanatical splinter group that came to embrace violence as a means to an end–was born.

    By this point, I understood that I wanted there to be an aristocracy of some kind, and I fairly quickly landed on a culture that was modeled loosely after Muscovite Russia. I don’t remember why, exactly. It might have been that the other artwork reminded me of Russian Czars a bit, but I think the biggest driver here was that I definitely didn’t want something that was centered around western Europe, because frankly that’s been done to death. I wanted something more unique, and I’d always sort of like the mystique and darkness that seemed to hover around that time period in Russia. They’ve always seemed like a hard people, a people that would do whatever it took to survive, but in the same light, they took time to live life fully when they could.

    Given that I had the loose guidelines of the aristocracy, the peace-loving, indigenous Aramahn, and finally the will of the Maharraht to do whatever it took to regain the islands as their own, it created a crucible from which the story flowed fairly easily. I spend a lot of time building my worlds so that the conflicts within them come naturally, and that was definitely the case here.

    JOHN: The description of the world and your process for getting into the story is fascinating. From the article on your site it sounds like using images was a new technique for you. Is that correct? And if it is, was your process previously to have some other physical object of which you’d ask questions?

    BRADLEY: Yes, using artwork as a starting point was a new technique for me. I had no idea if it was going to work or not. An interesting thing came up when I was doing it, though. One of the things I learned at a few of the workshops I’ve been to (Writers of the Future and Orson Scott Card’s Literary Bootcamp) was to create stories in very little time using a few unrelated things as starting points. One unanticipated result of having restrictions in some areas (such as the elements involved in the story) is that it opens your mind in other areas. You’re forced to become more creative in some ways because certain avenues have been closed to you. I think it was the same with the portraits I used to represent the characters.

    Before that, in the previous three novels I’d written, I didn’t really have any specific brainstorming techniques. I would start with a premise and perhaps a loose idea of the characters and a mood, and I would go from there, trying to stay true to those things as the story evolved and grew. Although part of the problem with those early stories was that I was young in my craft, I also think my brainstorming wasn’t very efficient. I think, as I alluded to above, that there were too many possibilities. I had trouble narrowing the story down, and it led to stories that were ok, but nothing great. Too often they became a bit generic. Nothing really stood out.

    So while the artwork I used is one of a great many possible brainstorming techniques, I like the idea of challenging yourself with restrictions in order to force the story to stretch and bend in unpredictable ways.

    JOHN: Wow. That’s a striking insight. I think I’ve found the same thing occurs when I run workshops or do my own brainstorming, but I don’t know that I’ve ever crystallized it the way you have. (See folks, this is why I love these interviews.) So I see _The Winds of Khalakovo_ will be published by Night Shade books. You’ve had quite a few short stories published, but this is your first novel. How did you make the sale? Did you have an agent? Was the editor someone you knew? Gives us a bit of the story behind this.

    BRADLEY: As you said, I’d been making steady progress throughout the years in short story sales. I had attended a number of workshops, and I think my name had at least some recognition by editors, either from short stories I’d published or personal connections I’d made at conventions. As an aside, some people will say that you shouldn’t go and sell yourself at conventions. If an opportunity comes up, they say, and an editor or agent asks you what you’re working on, go ahead and take advantage of it. I don’t doubt that that’s good advice for some. Just not for me. I believe that editors and agents are at cons not just to meet with their authors and speak with agents, but to see who’s coming up in the field. They’ll get to know a certain percentage of the newcomers from their short sales, or even novel sales, but they can’t read everything. They can’t even read a small percentage of the fiction that comes out each year. So, frankly, it’s up to me to make them aware of who I am.

    Now, that doesn’t mean you should be pushy. You should be friendly and businesslike. Keep things short and sweet and as casual as you possibly can. And that’s exactly what I tried to do. I approached Jeremy at World Fantasy in San Jose (2009) and told him I had an epic fantasy that he might like. I pitched it as “The Song of Ice and Fire meets Earthsea.” He asked me if I had an agent. I said no. Night Shade doesn’t normally take unagented mss (and I should probably ask Jeremy some day if he gets annoyed that I tell this story), but he said he liked the cool pitch and said to send it his way. Roughly five months later, I got an email from Jeremy, offering to publish the book. 

    At that point, I moved quickly to find an agent, and believe me, agents will move quickly as well if you tell them you have an offer on the table. That doesn’t mean they’ll be clamoring to sign you up. It just means you have their attention. I was lucky enough to be picked up by Russell Galen of the Scovil Galen Ghosh Literary Agency. Russ and I are simpatico on a number of levels, and to be frank, as an agent he kicks serious ass, so I feel honored and blessed to be under his wing.

    JOHN: What a great breaking in story. And you’re right, Galen is tops. So to give my readers perspective, did you approach a lot of editors this way? Or was Jeremy at Night Shade one of a select few? And did you encounter any annoyance? I know my editor, David Hartwell at Tor, doesn’t much like to be approached at cons. But obviously, that’s not the case with all editors.

    BRADLEY: Well, I had not approached anyone else for Winds. However, I had previous novels, and I’d approached a variety of agents and editors over the years. Not scads of them, mind you, but a number of them, and there were more agents I spoke to than editors because the general rule of thumb is that you can approach and/or query multiple agents at the same time, whereas editors you typically ask for exclusives, even at the partial stage. I was also careful about who I approached, and when. I went to the Pikes Peak Writers Conference for several years. They had pitch sessions there, where you can sit down with an acquiring agent or editor and talk to them about your novel. I certainly took advantage of this, but I also wasn’t afraid to approach them outside of those sessions. At conferences in particular, I think the invited guests are open to being approached at the bar, at the dinners, and at the parties. Again, though, I tried to keep things as casual as I could, and I kept the pitch short and sweet so that they could determine quickly whether it was a project that interested them. Most often I got a “Sure, send me 50 pages” type of answer, but I got a few requests for fulls by doing this as well.

    Conventions are another beast. It’s a looser environment than a conference, so I was much more choosy about when I approached agents and editors. I’ve never encountered annoyance, but I’ve certainly felt stiffness from those who perhaps would rather not be approached. I learned from this early on and adjusted my approach. I would try to meet them first and strike up a conversation and see where it went. Often, if you can just be humans with one another, the subject of what you write and what projects you might have ready will come up. Try to take that approach, because there’s nothing to put off an editor that already keeps unknown writers at arm’s length than the smell of desperation. In the words of Monica Geller, keep it breezy.

    JOHN: Well, I’m excited for you. Night Shade is a great publisher. So I have one more question: what’s next?

    BRADLEY: I’m contracted for two more books, so that’ll occupying my time for a little while yet. But I’ve started brainstorming the next project. (I like to let things germinate for quite a while, so it’s important for me to get my hindbrain working on these as early as possible.) I have two possibilities that I’m mulling over. The first is a science-fantasy called The Days of Dust and Ash. Think Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind meets The Coldfire Trilogy. I’m excited about this story, because it’s a departure from what I’ve written in the past, though it will still be fantastic and wide in scope. The story focuses on a young girl who is summoned from the dust, a global consciousness that was created as the last great age of technology fell under a nanite plague.

    The other is called From the Spices of Sanandira. I sold a novella with the same title to Beneath Ceaseless Skies last year, and it will be appearing sometime this spring. It’s a story that springs from Sanandira, a large desert oasis known for its caravan trade and spice bazaars. It’s got a strong Thousand and One Nights feel to it. The novel is not so much an expansion of the novella as it is a re-imagining of it. It will probably focus on a pair of twins: one boy, one girl. The sister is sold to one of Sanandira’s famed assassin rings at a young age. The boy (the protagonist) finds his sister by happenstance years later, and because of this chance meeting is drawn into the world of intrigue his sister walks every day.

    ***

     JOHN SEZ: I just love hearing how other authors work. As I said before, after this interview I decided to use the image technique myself on my current thriller project. Images of people and places and thing. I’m finding it helpful to help the story come to life. I also think Bradley’s breaking in story illustrates one key thing: work. And that’s exactly what I need to do right now 🙂

    Share