Talking Prom Di Heart

When Ines Bautista-Yao and I first thought of writing an anthology set outside Metro Manila, we were excited. We're both probinsyanas at heart, and it wasn't long before we gathered other authors who, like us, were more than willing to write a short story set in the province.

My short story "Drummer Boy" is set in Aklan, which I consider my second home. My parents are both from Aklan, and my sisters and I spent every summer (and the occasional holiday) there when we were younger. After working in advertising, I decided that I had enough of the city for a while and moved there. It’s the perfect place to recharge: it’s fairly quiet, there are beaches and rice fields everywhere, and by six-thirty, the streets would already empty. That is, if you go there on any other week except during Ati-Atihan.

I have only missed one Ati-Atihan celebration ever since I graduated from college because it's really one of my favorite times of the year Friends come over for a week of religious devotion and dancing and drinking, although not necessarily in order. We always have such a blast that the unofficial group motto seems to be, “What happens at Ati-Atihan, stays at Ati-Atihan.”

If my enthusiasm for my province is quite evident, then think of five more stories written in that same spirit. Ines and I encouraged the other writers to write from a local's perspective, and I thought we had a great mix of characters: one had a chip on her shoulder about imperial Manila, another felt that she needed to change once she left her province, still another couldn't help but show her love through the letters she wrote to a friend.

But while we have a soft spot for 'promdis', we also have to acknowledge that 'promdi' is a stereotype. It may have come from the fairly innocuous phrase 'from the province,' but in everyday conversation, the term takes on a sometimes-mocking, sometimes-self-deprecating tone, depending on the speaker. Someone talking with a hard, unforgiving accent? Promdi. Someone looking incredibly lost inside the newest high-end mall? Promdi. Someone who can't figure out the latest gadget or dresses unfashionably or remains incredibly naive?

You got it.

We believe that stereotypes shouldn't define the promdi so we wanted to embrace being promdi through this anthology. But don't get us wrong. This really isn't about how the countryside is better than the city. It's not about shaming Belle over wanting more than her provincial life. It's really just about showing that there are just as many unique scenarios set in the provinces as you can imagine, told through romances that we hope will be as familiar to you as they are different.

Writing about this is very important to me, personally. My first novella, Cover (Story) Girl, is set in Boracay, but from the perspective of a local guy who commutes daily to the island. My short story collection, Wired Differently, contains a few stories with the same promdi roots, including a speculative fiction story set entirely in Aklan. I've always felt the need to tell these kinds of stories, not because I'm anti-Manila, but because these are the stories that resonate with me. I want to keep on writing more of these, and to keep on reading more of these in local fiction.

But anyway! Here they are: six sweet probinsyano stories just for you. I hope they take you to where you need to go :)

Scriber (Ben S Dobson)

Despite being firmly of the medieval European vein, Scriber is an epic fantasy that manages to deliver freshness, deftness, and a fair dose of gender sensitivity to the genre's tropes. It moves from mystery/scavenger hunt to epic battle to morality tale but does it in an effective and seamless way. In this book, the Kingsland is being threatened by a group of rebels who seem determined to burn the kingdom down. Thrust into the middle of the action is Dennon Lark, a Scriber who is hiding away in the small village of Waymark but now the unfortunate target of the mysterious Burners. Lucky for the villagers, Bryndine Errynson and her company of female soldiers ride in to save most of them, but what Dennon and Bryndine don't know is that this is only the beginning of a quest that forces them together to save the Kingsland from a threat that none of them had imagined.

What first drew me to it was the choice of Dennon Lark, a historian, as the narrator. A fitting choice given his profession, though he is far from the kind of protagonist that most epic fantasies require. Dennon spends far too much time being afraid of his own shadow. His cowardice is often mentioned in the book -– from his desire to hide from the world after a personal endeavor turns tragic to his fear of Sylla, the self-appointed bodyguard of Bryndine Errynson.

A counterpoint to him is Bryndine, niece to the King and generally shunned to Hester Prynne-like proportions as a blasphemer for taking up arms and leading a company of female soldiers. She is the story's heroic trope, given bulk and battle ferocity to make her appear physically unattractive, but with a steadiness of character and purpose that made me cheer for her at every turn. Her actions are tolerated only because she is of noble blood and even among people she saves, she is neither admired nor thanked. Turn Bryndine male and the character loses much of its vulnerability and pathos.

I like how Mr Dobson gives us protagonists we can get behind and uses both Dennon and Bryndine to show different kinds of bravery, different kinds of battles, different kinds of heroes.

Even the warrior women are given nuanced roles. There are about twenty of them but the author knew how to write for them, how to introduce them to the reader so that you are never overwhelmed. Mr Dobson made sure that you paid attention to the right ones at the right times. One that particularly stood out was Wynne, with her hopefulness and desire for learning, and at the end of the book I really did feel as if I were part of this company.

I felt completely immersed in this world. Here, scribers like Dennon are tasked with recovering the kingdom's forgotten history, lost during a Forgetting instigated by a King who had razed all books and knowledge to the ground. It's a monumental task but one that Dennon approaches with passion and devotion, and snippets of all that he has discovered, as we ll as his thoughts, are revealed in brief passages before each chapter. But in spite of this, the world-building in Scriber is never unwieldy. In fact, I would go out on a limb and say that every detail mentioned had something to contribute to the plot and wasn't just included for flavor or scene-setting. (Let me know if I'm wrong.) Every little thing seemed to matter; nothing felt wasted.

I'm always up for a good series, but I'm a reader who is more impressed when a story wraps itself up satisfyingly in just one take. My only real concern with Scriber was how quickly the characters seemed to jump to conclusions while putting clues together. But that is little compared to how the story works itself to a glorious and emotionally-charged climax. Scriber ticks all the right boxes and reminds me that with indie releases like this, epic fantasy refuses to be just another tired and battle-worn genre.

--
This review is cross-posted to Adarna SF. The author provided a free copy for this review but damn, I have resolved to buy copies for Christmas presents.

Battlehawk (MP Ericson)

I’d say that Battlehawk may be the one to try if you like a quieter sort of fantasy, but somehow that statement doesn’t seem to give justice to the action in this book. Though the novel doesn’t have any dungeon-crawling or dragon-slaying, it still boasts of its fair share of sword fights and battles, calling to mind the weight and grimness of early European history.

Battlehawk is the story of brothers Galchai and Hauel, raised to be swordsmen who will fight to take back their southern kingdom. While they differ in skill and perspective, the task of raising their people back to their former glory and freedom rests on their shoulders.

The novel flows easily, at least at first. I like how in the first eight pages, the author throws you in the middle of the story and expects you to pick it up quickly without burdening you with massive info-dumping. I think it was this kind of restraint that encouraged me to pick this novel up in the first place. It does well to open with Hauel and Galchai as children. Not only does it show the family dynamics, but it also allows the reader more insight into the protagonists’ personalities than the rest of the novel does. I also applaud its treatment of a kingdom in exile, beggared by the years.

Unfortunately, the transitions were a real problem for me. As the brothers grew older and the various tribes and rulers moved closer to the brink of war, I was kept guessing on how much time had really elapsed between events. I had a smoother time reading the first third of the book, leading me to eventually give up on constructing a more concise timeline.

I was also anticipating a pay-off that never really materialized. Based on the story summary, I thought I’d see a definitive showdown between Galchai and Hauel. I had to remind myself that not every difference of opinion must lead to outright conflict or confrontation.

There were other minor details that bothered me. The first page speaks of 'a door hooked open,' and to my mind, a door can either be hooked/latched or open, but never both at the same time. A few pages down, a duel between Hauel and his cousin Robar concludes with 'After that, it was all over. Within moments, Hauel lay on the ground, panting and writhing (page 5)'. But it is Hauel who wins that fight and not Robar. Maybe these can still be corrected in future versions of Battlehawk.

My biggest regret, however, is the minor role given to women in the book although the ending foreshadows a change of direction. Unfortunately, this feels like too little, too late. If one of the lessons of the novel is that society must not exclude feminine wisdom and perspective, then why did it seem like every decision made by women in this novel — at least decisions that the protagonists listened to — led everyone to harm? I wish that there wasn’t such a wide disconnect between intent and application so that the conclusions made at the end of the book are properly justified.

I still think that Battlehawk delivers a fairly enjoyable reading experience. The battle scene towards the end of the book is something I commend. Ms Ericson gives it proper treatment. She doesn’t just turn it into a cut-away scene or dismiss it in a summary. Instead, she allows the action and the drama time to steep and then utilizes these into a fitting climax for her story. In the end, I think Battlehawk would have rated higher if I had found the rest of the novel consistent with its promising beginning and moving conclusion.

--
This review is cross-posted to Adarna SF. The author provided a free copy for this review.

Coffin Dodgers (Gary Marshall)

Crafting a believable mystery based on an oddball premise can prove to be a challenge, but one that Gary Marshall embraces with tongue-in-cheek wit and panache. Coffin Dodgers is a light, fast-paced mystery punctuated with genuine comic moments and the usual concerns of a twentysomething life: boredom, work, romance, and the presence of beer. It slightly borders science fiction, with mentions of newspapers with video clips and cars that take care of everything but the steering (although if those were already common occurrences in your part of the globe, you can always chalk it up to my third-world ignorance), but as a whole I feel that Coffin Dodgers is still hewn closer to an alternative present than a truly futuristic sci-fi scenario.

One of the most impressive things about Coffin Dodgers is its conversational tone. Matt is an effective narrator, drawing the reader into his life with ease. He brings familiarity into a world where the bingo hall is one of the most packed places during the weekends. In fact, it’s not just Matt — his friends Amy and Dave are realistically drawn as well. Their banter feels genuine and unaffected, insanely proliferating the novel with nicknames for the people around them (Sleazy Bob, the Yellow Man, Rodeo Rick, to name a few). Their fun and reckless spirit is consistently carried throughout the rest of the novel, encouraging me to imagine Coffin Dodgers unfolding as a movie, that crazy sleeper hit with actors of the indie-slacker persuasion.

This debut novel starts out strong, quickly establishing the mood and parameters of this new world. In just a few wry paragraphs, Marshall outlines the reasons and consequences behind the silvering of the population — one that almost feels plausible. He is also quite careful in letting Matt and his friends function within the scope of their capabilities. They are able to act, reason, and attempt to unravel the conspiracy without calling on James Bond’s arsenal. Their go-to gadgets? Camera phones, online-bought bugs, a sound engineer’s equipment. Again, plausibility in just the right amount.

Coffin Dodgers moves quick enough to let you forget some of its flaws before you realize they were even there. My main concern is that the characters are pretty much WYSIWYG and have little development throughout the course of the book. The antagonists, in particular, are quite cookie-cutter and do nothing to save this book from its predictability. While I can’t fault the book for its pace, I can’t say the same for the way it wraps up the mystery. You know that moment in an action movie when the hero is confronted by seven thugs and you just wonder why the other six are politely waiting their turn instead of rushing at him all at once? I had similar moments while reading this. I felt that the antagonists were just missing that ruthlessly smart gene that would have evened the field. I understand that the ridiculousness of the situation is created by using current universal stereotypes of the elderly, but I was a bit disappointed that longevity in this world didn’t amount to much bad-assery.

Despite these hiccups, I really commend Gary Marshall for coming up with a well-written (and well-edited) debut mystery. There are moments in the book that subtly move into the realm of social commentary without having to try so hard. Irreverent tone notwithstanding, it feels much more polished than the usual indie e-books that I’ve come across — definitely worth an afternoon read.

--
This review also appears on Adarna SF, an awesome collective for reviews of indie speculative fiction. Please visit the main site :) The author provided a free copy for this review.

The Sable City (M. Edward McNally)

I would love to play RPG with M. Edward McNally. This was the prevalent thought I had while reading his e-book The Sable City, available on Smashwords and Amazon. The story certainly knows its way around different fantasy tropes, combining them well enough to create an adventure campaign that is light in tone and quick in pace.

What I enjoyed most about it is that it felt like a throwback to RPG-inspired series like Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms. In The Sable City, Captain Block and Tilda Lanai find themselves far from their island home in search of a man long lost to their people. Along the way, they encounter a host of other characters (and monsters), getting themselves embroiled in an adventure that is much bigger than what they first anticipated. Running counterpoint to their story is the adventure of another party. Zebulon Baj Nif is hired to be the translator of a mysterious woman and her Far Western warrior escorts, a job that leads them towards the same destination as Tilda's (the titular city, in case you were wondering). Mr McNally excels in creating likable characters with interesting backstories, and he certainly knows them well enough to keep them moving from battle scenes to courtly games. At key points in the narrative, I was convinced that Mr McNally plays Legend of the Five Rings when he wasn't writing epic fantasy -- though his story featured only two Japanese-inspired characters (one of them a 'shukenja'), his world's spellcasting method made me recall certain elements from my favorite tabletop RPG.

Despite the book's engaging characters, it was in no means an easy read. I came to this forewarned about the amount of info-dumping here and while I applaud the author's efforts to create such a rich and realized world, it was hard for me to care about it as much as he did. I think moderation is key; fantasy readers often appreciate flavor as long as it is provided in manageable doses. One such manageable dose appears late in The Sable City, during Amatesu and Shikashe's backstory, which was evocative of a Japanese folktale. The setting and circumstances of their tale are very stylized compared to the rest of the book but it does not necessarily contain a lot of Places of Interest or Historic Titles that I had stumbled upon in the earlier chapters. I feel this stripped-down sensibility makes these scenes stand out against the rest of the book.

While I thoroughly enjoyed Mr McNally's characters and how they dealt with each other, I would have to admit that most of them acted as if they were in an RPG and had no choice but to keep to the quest instead of going off on their own and risking the GM and party's combined wrath. There were times when I felt that a certain character did something contrary to his persona just so he could stay in the story. Moments like this came off as contrived but despite this, The Sable City is a solid effort that has a lot going for it. Mr McNally writes with real skill. He has a good feel for conflict and knows how to balance humorous banter with sobering tension. I thought there was a freshness to it that I hope to still see in his next books.

Thank you to Frida Fantastic for the reco. It was well worth it!