Dennis Danvers’ Web Site

First of all, the department changed the course number, and the class was listed in the schedule of classes as simply “Readings in Literature.”  No one knew they were signing up for a science fiction class.  A couple were pleased.  Some were stunned.  Some are gone.  To make matters more complicated, the first book on the reading list, The Stars My Destination, is out of print (even though according to the bookstore Random House took the order and only told the store last minute).  Scrambling to rearrange the schedule, I’ve had to front load the movies, so we’re barely underway and watching 2001: A Space Odyssey—all of it.  Fast-paced it ain’t.  So a week has gone by, they’ve watched two movies, and I barely know them except for their names.  They turn in the first paper on Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? when we return on Tuesday.  I’ve read the novel close to a dozen times now and still enjoy it and find new things in it.  Here’s hoping my students liked it too.

Sarah and I vacationed in DC and took advantage of its many socialist pleasures like public transportation and art museums.  Since I’m writing about angels, I went hunting in the Renaissance and came back with some interesting images.  Check out the colorful wings on this flock:

My favorite, however, has to be this Nativity with the tiny angels just visible in the top of the stable, and an air traffic controller guiding them in:

This review appeared recently on Beam Me Up—

Tails of Wonder & Imagination
Edit by Ellen Datlow
from Night Shade Books

Do you think of yourself as a cat fancier? Do stories about cats or with cats as the main character garner more than just a little interest? Well have I got a book for you! Tails of Wonder edited by Ellen Datlow has collected some of the finest “catâ€? stories I have seen to date. Now I am not talking about the cutesy puss in boots tales (no pun intended) either. Some of the most heart wrenching and frightening stories are contained within the covers, by some of the most esteemed authors in the field today. Stephen King, George R.R. Martin and Mary A. Turrizllo to name a few. Mary’s story you might remember from an earlier BMU program, is Pride which tells the story of a long dead sabre tooth tiger brought back through regressive dna (I know, I am mangling the science) and the horrifying effect that the big cat has on modern society. Or the absolutely indescribable Cat Skin by Kelly Link and one of my favorites in the book Healing Benjamin by Dennis Danvers is absolutely heart breaking.

Forty two stories in all with a fine intro by Ellen gives enough selection than anyone is likely to find several well worth the cost of the volume. I thought I would be wanting at the end knowing that most of the stories would be classified as fantasy, but I had no problem getting to the end and often a lot of trouble just putting it down.

This would be one that I would suggest you checking out no matter what your main story venue is. I think even the most hardened amongst us can warm to this collection.

posted by Beam Me Up at 2:50 PM on May 13, 2010

Summer school starts Monday, so I’m crazy busy.  I’ll be back with news from that front when time allows.

I just heard today that Realms of Fantasy will be publishing another story of mine, “The Banjo Singer.”  While “Here’s What I Know,” previously published by Realms mythologized my father’s life, this one’s about my mom, by way of the fantastic, of course.  Here’s how it begins—

The Banjo Singer

Marie’s father was a large man with hands square and flat like coal shovels.  He owned the music store where Marie worked—like her dead mother before her.  She was a quiet girl, slim and slightly bent like a young tree planted in the way of a tireless north wind, but stronger for it.  There was something discomforting in her gaze if you looked her in the eye, and so Marie rarely looked others in the eye, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable.

Afternoons she helped her father among the tubas and piccolos and banjoes and violins and thought them all of  no real importance.  Wood tubes, bent brass, strung wires and cat gut—they were dead things.  She wanted to be a singer.  She was a singer.  She wanted this all her life, though few had ever heard her sing.   Even at birthday parties or at Christmas when everyone sang, she always busied herself doing something else.  In church, she never voiced the words, for she knew if prayers were answered, her life would be quite different altogether….

I suppose it began with the Walkman.  I never actually owned one, but I borrowed them enough to know I didn’t really want my own personal soundtrack except on rare occasions, usually stationary at my desk.  So I wasn’t tempted by the iPod, though I listen to most of my music on my computer.  But my big step was in not getting a cell phone.  I still don’t have one.  As far as I can tell, it’s still a chronically unreliable technology, rather like owning an American car in the 70′s.  A favorite subject of social conversation now is cell phone woes.  Nearly all of you understand these better than I.  A nice young woman at dinner last night said she’d started receiving anonymous porn messages on her cell.  Many wish they could do without their cell phones, but they are cursed for life apparently.  Sort of like me and heart meds.  I do appreciate that cell phones have made eavesdropping on intimate conversations about damn near anything way easier, and for all that good material, I am grateful and unrepentant.

As a writer working at home during the day, I’m not crazy about The Phone.  Or, as I often call it, The Phucking Phone.  The no call list helps, but since the biggest biz in the world (American Politics) isn’t excluded, interruptions still abound.  I’m also fond of those Rat Bastards who claim to be charitable raising money for the police, orphans, et. al. and keeping 90% themselves.  There are also times, I confess, that I haven’t wanted an employer or deranged lover to be able to reach me on the phone.  So I wasn’t exactly enticed by the cellular technology that evoked images of no escape.  Hundreds of earnest pitches have been made to me by users based on Safety.  What if I Break Down?!  Like I said, just like an American Car in the 70′s.  I’ll probably die being run over by a motorist on a cell phone who ignored me in the crosswalk, and I’m sure all the witnesses will have cell phones to report the matter, take my picture, post to YouTube…

When I teach science fiction writing, I’m always advising students to remember who doesn’t use the technology they’re imagining.  A homogenous world isn’t plausible. Now I’m in a minority of non-users of what I’ve heard called “a necessity of modern life.”  Most apparently agree.  A friend sent me a NYT article with the following factoid:  Only 15% of Americans don’t have cell phones for various reasons, mostly bad coverage or can’t afford it.  I’m in a well-covered city and could afford it, making my reason “Chooses not to.”  You know how many gave that answer?  5%.  We’re talking tiny minority.  This happened very quickly.  I know there were clunkoid phones in the 80′s, but the fever’s been less than 20 years.  It’s now become a cultural study for me.  How long can I hold out?  When will I join in the fun?  When will I be safe?

This Saturday April 17th at 2 pm in Fredericksburg, Virginia, Griffin Bookshop, 723 Caroline Street, will play host to Richmond Noir editors Tom De Haven and Brian Castleberry, as well as contributors Howard Owen and myself.

Monday April 19th at 7 pm in Richmond, editor Andrew Blossom and contributors Mina Beverly, Pir Rothenberg, Anne Thomas Soffee and myself will be reading at VCU’s Student Commons, 907 Floyd Avenue.

The second class I teach this summer (June 28th-July 29th, Monday-Thursday, 10:30 am-12:45 pm) is Urban Fantasy.  The term always requires some explaining.  I applied it to the course before it became a marketing juggernaut.  I use the term very broadly to apply to fantasy set in a modern world as opposed to the much more common impulse to place fantasies in the past or in an idealized world that’s like the past.  This class is now listed as English 391-011.  This year we’ll be looking at some of the various borderlands of the genre with pairs of films and novels.

I start with Pan’s Labyrinth (film) and Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys, both fantasies that rely on traditional mythologies at work in a modern world.  This is probably the most common approach, favored by de Lint and others.  These two do an exceptional job of integrating the mythos into the plot so that it doesn’t seem merely tacked on, as is too often the case.

Especially recently, the genre has lurched, shambled, slithered, whatever, toward horror tropes.  To look at this territory, I’ve chosen Let the Right One In (film) and Peter Straub’s lost boy lost girl.  I’ve never been much interested in vampire stories, but one of my many excellent students last summer turned me on to this film.  Straub’s novel is a highly unusual haunted house/serial killer story.  Or is it?  I told Peter I’m teaching the novel this summer, and he gave me a question for the class.  Unfortunately, he didn’t give me the answer!  Anyway, these two, arguably could be and are called horror but both have fantasy resolutions.

The third pair Adaptation (film) and China Miéville’s The City & The City owe much to the borderline genre of noir.  Both, some might say, aren’t fantasy at all.  We’ll see.  Charlie Kaufman’s crazy screenplay is all about what genre it is, so it should provide fuel for the fire.  I ended up not being that fond of Miéville’s Perdido Street Station, so I almost didn’t read this novel.  It’s the best novel I read last year.  I just voted for it for the Nebula.  Maybe it’s not fantasy.  Maybe it’s science fiction.  Maybe it’s…  Whatever it is, it’s damn fine.

The fourth pair Stranger Than Fiction (film) and Jeffrey Ford’s short story collection, The Empire of Ice Cream, lie in the borderland of metafiction, postmodernism, et. al.  This is the only Will Farrell film I can stand to watch, but this has consistently been the most popular film students have reviewed.  Jeffrey Ford’s brilliant short stories have had a huge impact on modern fantasy.  He’s won more World Fantasy Awards than anyone.  Ever.  More importantly, this collection has always been a favorite with students.

In the word or film world, of course, you can create any damn world you want to if you’re good enough, if you know how to blend genres just so…  Donnie Darko (film) and Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore attempt such a feat, and judging by class reactions in the past, pull it off.  Even though it’s the longest novel on the reading list, students consistently rate it the best.  I’ve had students thank me for making them read this novel.  I keep waiting for him to write something shorter that works the same magic so well, but so far I haven’t found it.

So what are you waiting for?  You can register online at vcu.edu.

As in years past, I’ll be teaching two classes at VCU this summer, Science Fiction and Urban Fantasy.  I’ll describe the sf class today and the urban fantasy tomorrow.  For reasons more bureaucratic than substantive, the course numbers have changed, though generally the courses are the same.  The science fiction class is listed as Readings in Literature 215-004.  It runs May 24-June 24, Monday-Thursday, 10:30 am-12:45 pm.  I always try to fit science fiction into the general enterprise of literature, and I shall endeavor to do that even more this time.  The somewhat revised course description, reads as follows:

This course will explore science fiction in several different ways—as a genre, historically, thematically, culturally, in its different forms in print, film, and screen, as a social phenomenon, a craft, a community—not only to learn about science fiction but also about skills and strategies useful in the appreciation and understanding of any variety of literature.

Gosh.  I’d like to take a course like that!  The books this year are:

Alfred Bester.  The Stars My Destination.

Philip K. Dick.  Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Joe Haldeman.  The Forever War.

Neal Stephenson.  Snow Crash.

Cherie Priest.  Boneshaker.

Once again, the idea is a very rough historical survey of books and films beginning with the 50′s and ending with the present.  I still haven’t found a better 50′s sf novel than Bester.  I’ve returned to it after flirtations with Fahrenheit 451 (ugh) and Starship Troopers (great novel, but I can only take so much of the politics).  Do Androids etc. remains my favorite Phil Dick novel.  I enjoyed teaching Man in the High Castle, but I thought one alternate history on the list is enough.  Forever War was the favorite novel in last year’s class and is one of the best sf novels ever written.  The 80′s have always presented a problem.  Every year I try something different, and it dies.  Especially Neuromancer.  I’ve tried exotic alternatives like Murakami, but early cyberpunk consistently tanks.  My solution this year is to skip the 80′s.  So I’m doing the early 90′s.  Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash represents something of a cyberpunk fruition.  Even in this relatively short Stephenson novel, he still manages to info-dump at length for page after page, but here’s hoping the students keep turning them.  Finally, I choose buzz for the latest book.  If you haven’t seen Cherie Priest’s goggled heroine on a bookstore shelf near you (cover facing out, thank you very much) you haven’t been paying attention.  Nominated for everything, it’s a zombie, steampunk, alternate history with goggles and dirigibles.  I hate zombies, but obviously everyone else doesn’t, and the ones here are mostly set decoration.  It’s really an engaging Mama Lion rescues her wayward cub story, and should be a pleasant diversion at course’s end.

The movie choices this year include several changes.  I still start with Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the 1956 version.  It’s usually a class favorite and holds up surprisingly well.  For the 60′s I’m finally showing 2001:  A Space Odyssey.  I find it overly slow and ponderous and self-important, but its influence is undeniable.  I’ll see what the students make of it.  I’ve always wanted to show Rocky Horror Picture Show in the class, both as a science fiction film as well as a social phenomenon.  I’m just old enough that the ritual came after me.  My students will have grown up with it.  Skipping the 80′s once again, I’m showing Terminator 2, the best of the Terminator movies and probably the most influential.  The first Terminator movie did well enough in the class last summer (better than any 80′s film before it).  Finally, I’m excited to show Alex Rivera’s Sleep Dealer, an excellent Mexican sf film.  I had planned on showing District 9, but in some ways I think Rivera’s film is more interesting.

So there you have it.  There’s plenty of room.  I’d love to have you!

Except for the chilly wet weather (Richmond had much better in my absence), this was a terrific conference.  As usual, I went to lots of the readings.  Kij Johnson’s “Spar” stood out as an absolutely phenomenal short story.  It appeared in the October 2009 issue of Clarkesworld, one of the best of the online zines.  Kathy Goonan read from a novel in progress, This Shared Dream.  Tom De Haven read from both my favorite novel of his, It’s Superman, and a companion section from his extended essay about the Man of Steel, Our Hero.  Other standout readings included an unpublished story by Andy Duncan (whose performance skills are unrivalled), an excerpt from Donkey, a novel in progress by Nalo Hopkinson, and an excerpt from Joe Haldeman’s Earthbound.  Nalo’s luncheon address as the guest of honor—”A Reluctant Ambassador From the Planet of Midnight”—was also something of a remarkable fictional performance.  A special treat for me was meeting and hearing the work of Bernando Fernandez (“Bef”) and Pepe Rojo, two Mexican sf writers in attendance.  We found we had a lot to talk about.  Libby Greenway’s paper on Alex Rivera’s Sleep Dealer was terrific, but even better was that Rivera came for a screening of the film, and I was able to talk to him briefly.  All this helped persuade me to use Sleep Dealer in the sf class this summer instead of District 9, which will already get plenty of attention without my assistance. The best academic paper I heard was on Lost (I told you this is a cool conference).  Elizabeth Berkebile McManus’s “Protecting the Island: Interior and Exterior Space in Lost” provided an excellent perspective for viewing the enigmatic series.  Finally, not wanting to attend a conference without making a fool of myself, I volunteered to be in Timothy J. Anderson’s short play.  I swam around the auditorium with my fellow thespians in a drug-addled state (in the script).  I had several compliments on my swimming-without-water technique.  The other two plays, by Jeanne Beckwith (who also directed Tim’s play) were hilarious.  Andy Duncan and Brett Cox were bickering Martian astronauts, and John Kessel, Sydney Duncan, Kij Johnson, and Jim Kelly were a riot in “The Last Detective Story.”  The theme for next year’s conference is The Fantastic Ridiculous.  I can’t miss that!