My First Virtual Con: Flights of Foundry 2020

As the title indicates, this past weekend I attended my first virtual SFF convention, Flights of Foundry. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it proved an interesting, informative, and all around good experience.

The panels and presentations were all excellent, and while not entirely the same as they might have been held in meat-space, didn’t lose anything essential in digital form. There is something to be said for the convenience of being able to pop into (and out of, if necessary) a whole array of fascinating programming events and discussions, with participants from around the world, without having to set foot outside my home. [Edit: I forgot to mention how much easier it was to take notes! I’m much more comfortable typing notes into a keyboard than trying to write them out longhand or capture them somehow on one of those newfangled pocket gizmos.] That said, one of my favorite things about conventions is the in-person contact and conversation with folks I might not otherwise get to meet face-to-face, which is sadly not feasible right now. Overall, I’d say the pros and cons balance out, so that Flights of Foundry was easily on par with other SFF cons I’ve attended.

I moderated a panel on Adaptation and Remix Culture, with SL Huang, Cislyn Smith, and Rebecca Slitt. While tech issues caused me to be about 10 minutes late (another hazard of the online format), I thought the discussion went well. When I arrived, the other participants were already discussing The Lizzy Benet Diaries (modernized Pride and Prejudice done in the form of a series of vlogs; very entertaining; look it up), which I took as a good sign.

The most nerve-wracking portion of the con for me was my Sunday presentation on How to Create Your Own Fictional Religion. My impostor syndrome was flowing strong, but I got through the presentation and reactions seemed positive. There was one follow up question I bungled though. (There were probably more I bungled, but one I recall in particular.) One attendee asked for examples of animism in SFF, and my mind just blanked. I ended up blurting out something about Avatar: The Last Airbender.

While I love ATLA (and do encourage anyone and everyone to watch it, if they haven’t already; if you have already watched it, watch it again), that had to be one of the dumbest answers I could give. Here I’d been encouraging everyone to be careful of their Western bias, and I went immediately to a Western property that took heavy influences from Eastern media and culture (especially anime), rather than going to the source.

I’m not sure how my brain managed to skip over films like My Neighbor Totoro, Princess Mononoke, and Spirited Away, considering how huge of a Ghibli/Miyazaki geek I am. (I saw Princess Mononoke in the theater about 8 times when it came to the US back in 1999. And then I went to see it again a few years ago for a 20th anniversary screening. I’ve also been to the Ghibli Museum in Japan, which is AMAZING. Again, huge geek.)

But my biggest oversight was not mentioning Mushi-shi, an anime with its roots buried deep in animism and Shinto. In its own unique way Mushi-shi makes a science out of animism. The protagonist Ginko is a mushi-shi, an itinerant doctor/shaman studying strange life forms called mushi which inhabit the natural world but are somehow alien and different from other forms of life. The show is episodic, each installment a quiet, nearly slice-of-life tale about people dealing with the weird effects a mushi is having on their lives or community, as Ginko attempts to help them and perhaps untangle the mystery of yet another mushi. I’m not sure where (if anywhere) it’s readily available to watch right now, but if you find a way to watch it, do.

Sorry this post kind of became a plug for anime I like. That’s my ADD-brain, which has been working overtime to be extra ADD in this time of crisis.

Stay safe, everyone.

Review: The Orphan Fleet, Volume 1 by Brendan Detzner

I’ve been telling myself that I’d start writing some book reviews, and I decided to to stop procrastinating.

The Orphan Fleet, Volume 1 is a print omnibus of two YA fantasy e-novellas by Brendan Detzner. The first follows the adventures of an airship dockworker named Jiaire, and the second focuses on an aristocratic refugee named Amber.

Disclaimer: I know Brendan Detzner personally, but have endeavored to give an impartial review.

The Orphan Fleet

The first story in the duology is set on the Mountain, a mysteriously warm port in an otherwise frozen mountain range, where airships can stop to thaw and their crews and passengers can take a breather on their tramontane journey. Detzner spends a decent chunk of the story setting up the world, showing us a diverse society of orphans and outcasts who have made their home in the clouds, catering to the needs and wants of travelers bound to other parts of the world. One major feature of this society is the Show, a kind of swashbuckling pro wrestling carnival that has an almost religious draw.

The prose is sparse and quick-paced, reflective of the bright and agile but straightforward and uneducated mind of the protagonist, Jiaire. This style will be familiar to anyone who’s read Detzner’s other work, but may be jarring to those expecting a more typical fantasy with exhaustive layers of description. The tight prose also makes the aforementioned worldbuilding move along at an easy clip.

Overall, The Orphan Fleet was a lot of fun and had some truly great elements, but it didn’t blow me away. The main plot hook came a bit late, but the interesting setting and superbly likable characters kept me reading until the action really picked up; and once it did, it was all the high-skies swashbuckling adventure anyone could ask for. Recommended, not just for itself, but because it serves as a great prequel for the next story. Which brings me to…

The Hidden Lands

Unlike its predecessor, The Hidden Lands takes about a page and a half to introduce itself before jumping into the action. Amber, who played an important if largely off-page role in The Orphan Fleet, is escaping the fallout of that role by seeking asylum in the Hidden Lands. Rather than a fantasy adventure, the story unfolds as a much more quiet thriller, full of doubts, questions, and assassinations, as Amber wonders who she can trust, and just how far she can trust them. The prose is on point: more descriptive than in The Orphan Fleet, but still clean; it may appeal more to fantasy traditionalists.

The Embassy District, where much of the story is set, continues the motif of a society of outcasts. While less fantastical than the Mountain, the Embassy District presents a subtler mystery. The people of the Hidden Lands clearly view themselves as far superior to outsiders, to the point that they’ll barely speak to and won’t even look at Amber or the other asylum-seekers. And yet they maintain the Embassy District at their own expense, as a kind of preserve of foreigners, and engage these inferior foreigners to display the arts of their various cultures at the Salon — this book’s answer to the Show, a less flamboyant but no less captivating spectacle.

I think the story really hits its stride with this second book. I found The Hidden Lands to be a great, compelling read, with dynamic and interesting characters inhabiting a vibrant world. Highly recommended.

You can get the print omnibus here or here, or the individual e-books here and here.