Regrets

I profoundly regret if, in yesterday's post on Riverworld, I gave the impression that I bear an irrational prejudice towards swords and sandals as a genre.  I don't, I promise!  My irritation came merely from what looked like a sloppy juxtaposition of a poignant concept with some cheesy-looking genre stuff, and from a strong desire to give Tamoh Penikett a severe talking-to, followed by hot chocolate with marshmallows in it, followed by a new agent.  I apologize if my vexation colored everything the entire post.

And I totally agree with commenter Alex R that setting and plot devices aren't necessarily determinative.  One thing I want to write about sometime soon is my interest in faerie, and in borders, something I think works to totally different, and beautiful effect in The Mists of Avalon, A.S. Byatt's Possession (about which more later this week) and Will Shetterly's Elsewhere and Nevernever, which are shattering and gorgeous, and influenced me hugely growing up.  That said, I like to see genre justified; by the end of a piece, or a movie, or a novel, I want to feel like I see exactly what the story gained by being set in a world with swords, or magic, or whatever else lit up the author's imagination.  That may be because I'm a writer, and I like to be able to understand my fellow authors' decisions.  But I think stories are better if their genres and their devices and their points fit together, like tumblers in a lock.