My author name, Rudy Ch. Garcia, contains the middle initial Ch., as if it were an abbreviation. It's not. I adopted it to focus Internet searches around me, instead of on the millions of latinos on the planet who also have my given name. Besides to "market" myself, the Ch. emphasizes both my bilingual elementary teacher career and my bilingualism. The Ch. Draws questions and remarks, but hasn't propelled my fame. People can imagine it stands for the famous Che--an association I don't mind--or Chicano, which is also bien.
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not the prisoner's, but similar |
I recently received three handwritten letters and one story, in the mail, from a man who's in prison for a non-violent crime. So few people write lettrs anymore. His intimidated me, which surprised me. Theoretically, I now had the obligation to answer, not necessarily with a pencil, but with a letter I'd have to send through the mail. I haven't gotten over that and neither have I responded. The story that the incarcerated Chicano wrote is at the bottom of this post. I think it's surprisingly good, detailing his last day before beginning his sentence.
His letters reminded me of some of mine, my half of an exchange of correspondence that went on for about a decade, between me and an English teacher from my junior and high school. In the mid-70s she presented me with a velo-bound, Xeroxed copy, what's called a self-published book, today, containing almost two hundred pages of our letters. To some extent, seeing my words in print influenced my writing mania.
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what my teacher gave me |
I still have the book but am leery of reading it again. Hearing your teenaged-to-20s self can be unnerving. What immaturity! What self-centeredness! What impassioned introspection about one little life. I intended to give excerpts from the introduction, but I can't do it. If I did, I'd be blushing, nearly shamefully, from what I feel was an over-kind assessment of my "vision, drive, sensitivities, and intellect," among other things. I haven't heard from my co-author teacher in decades. She may no longer be alive. But she left something--there's other copies!?--of herself, and me. The handwriting is gone, but the words between us are here.
Make up our own genres?
I'm going to borrow an artists' word and invent a new, genre term for my written works--fabulist mextasy. There, it's done. I might have to stop using it if the originator(s) feel it's counter to the intended meaning.
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Hammond's new book, not fabulist mextasy |
Why invent a new genre? At the end of this piece, are Warren Hammond's thoughts that initiated this. I've heard the same idea from Chicano authors. Would Mario Acevedo's books do better as Chicano thriller or paranormal vampire stories? Are Manuel Ramos's books crime or detective or Chicano or all of that or other combinations? Genre is what literary agents, publishers, and readers want. It can make or break.
From this point on, I consider much ofmy writing to be fabulist mextasy. The original definitions are below. I do write somewhat in a fable tradition. I believe the term mextasy applies to much of contemporary, Chicano stories, whether they are speculative or not. And its play on fantasy seems descriptive of some works.
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where mextasy began? |
From weekly posts, news and diatribes that I read, I've had it up to here (5'7.5") with exclusionary attitudes in the "American" publishing and writing world. It's a mostly white, mostly male, mostly oldsters dominated business. Getting our patasin the door, getting their conventions and organizations to include and welcome us is somebody else's lifetime task. Not mine.
So, I'd rather my unpublished works be true to themselves and my art--I call it--rather than be pigeonholed for the sake of marketability. If an agent or publisher insists on different, established genres, okay, I'll concede. Until then, welcome to the first author of fabulist mextasy. You have my unneeded permission to borrow, use, alter or propogate it, if you want.
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my 1st fabulist mextasy, in Revista Iguana |
Definition of fabulist: “For two decades, a small group of innovative writers rooted in the genres of science fiction, fantasy, and horror have been simultaneously exploring and erasing the boundaries of those genres by creating fiction of remarkable depth and power”, thus extending the definition of “Fabulist,” which generally does not include fantasy, science fiction or horror. Fabulist, is generally taken to mean magic realism without geographical boundaries, in other words, not necessarily Latin American. New wave fabulist simply stretches that definition to include other more non-realistic forms." Why mextasy: "Mextasy is more than a representation of ecstasy about or for Mexico; it is about the sensuous tracings Mexican culture leaves both sides of the border. More existential state than archive, Mextasy speaks to the living organism of Mexicanicity as it moves between the bodies of Mexico and the United States--an overt and covert delicious miasma that arouses as it excites, excites as it provokes. ¡Que viva Mexico!, within and without its borders . . . the image of Mexico in the United States."
"The human mind wants to categorize. When people go shopping, they want to be able to find things that they know they like. Categorization can be a double-edged sword. If you say, 'I am this,' and there's a whole audience out there that likes this, then it's good. But I think we as genre writers sometimes run the risk of categorizing ourselves too much.
"For instance, as I was writing my KOPbooks, I was thinking, this is great. Mystery readers will read them and science-fiction readers will read them. I'll appeal to two audiences.' What tend[ed] to happen instead, as I learned, was that mystery readers say, 'I don't read science fiction,' and science-fiction readers say, 'I don't read mystery.' So sometimes you actually end up marginalizing yourself. We geek ourselves out too much, and we become a little insular." I was excited that I won [the Colorado Book Award], and I do think KOP Killer is noir mystery first and science fiction second. I was pleased the science-fiction elements weren't held against me."
The letter from the prisoner
I left this story largely unedited. What I found intriguing was how it reveals the thoughts of a man on his way to prison. The minutiae somehow seem appropriate, however mundanely trivial the content might usually be. It's no literary masterpiece, but it made me wonder what I would write if I were on the bus. Or, what about if it was the day before my execution?
The Bus to Nowhere
On this particular morning I woke up early. I knew I would be taking the Metro to my court appointment. My intention was to meet a reporter outside the courthouse. Today I would turn myself in to do a ten-moth stretch in the state jail.
I showered and dressed in clothes I had preselected the evening before. I proceeded to prepare breakfast for my wife, as I normally did. By 6:00am she was in the shower. Her radiance made up for the sun yet to rise. I finished my morning tasks, then entered the bathroom. I handed her my wedding ring and asked her to hold it for me until my return. We kissed goodbye. I exited the back door. I drew the gate open and walked down the alley, six blocks to the bus stop.
Almost immediately, the bus approached. I sat my able body in a handicapped seat. Four older women occupied the seats behind and across from me. They were either on their way to work or returning. Either direction didn't matter. The years of domestic labor was recorded by the callous texture of their motherly hands. Housekeepers, maids, janitors, that mattered, neither. Their American dreams long ago swept away and disposed of.
A stop forward, another woman entered and took a seat. It must have been here that the importance of me and my day exited.
As one of the four departed, another waved gently, saying goodbye. "Until tomorrow." The exiter replied, "Si Diós quiere," meaning, "If God wills it."
The newest rider thumbed through her purse. She withdrew a few dollars--fifteen would be my estimate. Unnoticed, she passed it to the woman behind her. Obscured by the roar of the moving bus, she thanked the other woman. In response, the loaner said it wasn't necessary that she pay her all of it. The borrower looked up, commenting, "No, no, money only brings trouble." In her purse were a couple of other bundles with paper notes attached, as she had sorted these out the night before, her pending debts
Onward rode these women with lives as routine as the bus they rode. So, too, of the other six or eight passengers. A bunch of nobodies? For, after all, everyone knows--on these seats, unreserved, no one rides the bus. --fin--
Es todo, hoy,
RudyG., man of letters, and cartas, and spec stories, and author with the Spanish ch in his name
When cultural appropriation isn't
Manuel Ramos is buried under a ton of deadlines, and as soon as we can find a shovel to dig him out, he'll be returned to this, his regular posting day. Speaking of Ramos, I'm not into cop/detective/crime fiction like he is, but at last summer's Denver WorldCon, I was lucky enough to share some food, time and drink with local-writer-made-good Warren Hammond. For a güero, the guy's charming, friendly and, despite a Clark Kent veneer, worth being around.
Because of that, I got copies of his futuristic noir KOP and Ex-KOP novels. Since I love noir and science fiction I figured at least those aspects of his work would be worth my time and money. I was wrong.
KOP contains some of the strongest prose, striking noir, and original world I've read in years.
As far as SciFi, it's not your typical, formulaic future world. Check this: the planet Lagarto (Spanish for lizard because this tropical-like world's got one on or under every doormat and kitchen shelf) was colonized by Mexican scientists! Not Spanish conquistadores or Mexican drug lords, but científicos. This alone was refreshing, at least to this reader.
To deal with one question La Bloga readers might be asking--cultural appropriation--I've got to say Warren maybe's deduced what a lot of cultural-appropriating novelists have yet to figure out: it's better not to exploit too much of what's foreign to you. To his credit, Warren doesn't try passing his world off as Chicanolandia. He doesn't stretch his premise about the planet's name and founders much into the body of the work. Yes there are surnames and references, but all incidental or extraneous to the plot. Even what I think is the biggest "inconsistency" in his Lagarto world--the absence of dialogue influenced by Spanish--works for me. Otherwise, I might have felt differently.
Now, about the writing. From the cover quote: "KOP is about as good as noir crime gets since Dashiell Hammett stopped writing. Yes, I know what I just said." (David Drake) If this was on the cover of Warren's second book Ex-KOP, I'd agree with this Drake guy. But the writing in KOP is better, more sophisticated than Hammett's. Yes, one day even the classics get replaced, and should be.

Instead of just telling you what I think, I give you a little of Warren's own words. What you need to know first is that KOP is replete with this style, crazily filled with his choice of language, bien gordo with this richness hidden in a SciFi novel. Now, sit back and let these words pica your lips and saturate your tongue, swish them around some, and then let them storm your literary gullet, and you'll see why Mario Acevedo, of X-Rated Bloodsuckers notoriety, said about Warren's writing: "Raw. Visceral. Compelling. As unforgettable as a stabbing." I'd add, you'll find yourself repeatedly rubbing that wound with pleasure. All quotes below are from KOP, wherein I find a more masterly prose than its sequel. (Sorry, Warren, I call them as I confuse them.) These are not favorite passages; they're just what I randomly flipped to.
What the planet's like:
I crossed the street, weaving between the puddles and piles of rotting garbage. Geckos scattered out of my way, running for cover under green weeds that had pushed up through the rippled pavement. Every few months, the city would come through on a slash-and-burn. They used to poison the encroaching jungle growth until people started to notice tumor-ridden fish belly-up in the Koba Riber. Citizens' groups got worked up over their health and forced the city to change methods. Now, they blasted the streets with flamethrowers, crisping anything green, leaving only the smoldering stench of burned trash and vegetation in their wake. (p 13.)
About the gritty protagonist:
She listened with rapt attention as I open-booked my life for her. I could tell her anything--judgment free. I told her about Tenttown. I told her how my father would tie me up while he beat my mother. I showed her the rope-burn scars. I told her how I was always getting kicked out of school for fighting. When she asked if I had any regrets, I told her that I wished I had killed my father before his liver beat me to it.
"Really? You wouldn't feel guilty killing your own father?"
"The bastard deserved it. I deserved the chance to kill him myself. His liver robbed me of my vengeance. It was my only chance to see the world as a fair place.
She wouldn't let it drop. She kept asking questions about my father and how I could possibly kill him, my own flesh and blood. He beat my mother. I didn't know how much plainer I could make it." (p. 113)
Cover-wise, while the artwork is fine, I couldn't help but see a disgruntled Pierce Brosnan in the Kop portrayal of protagonist Juno. That said, it fit his character. What's funny is that the sequel's Ex-Kop cover of a more hardened, down-and-out Juno reminds me of a hung-over Bruce Campbell, half of which is in keeping with the second installent, where Juno's lost his career and turned private eye. Judge yourself from the side-by-side pics below.
Here's the publisher's blurb:
"Juno Mozambe is a dirty cop... The colony world Lagarto boomed when an indigenous plant was discovered to yield a uniquely intoxicating brandy...but when Earth synthesized a copy, Lagarto's economy crashed. Now, like many Lagartans, Juno lives in quiet desperation. But it wasn't always like this. When he was a young cop in capital city Koba's Office of Police, he and his partner worked to break the drug trade. Now, his old partner is the beleaguered chief of police, and Juno is a cop on the take, broken in body and in spirit.


"Despite his past sins and present problems, some small part of Juno has not given up hope. He and his beautiful, young rookie partner are assigned to a particularly ugly murder case that makes no sense...until he realizes that it's a setup to get rid of him and the chief. But it's also a chance to blow the lid of a huge scandal—an offworld plot to crush the slim hope Lagarto has to regain its economic independence. If he can break the case it would mean a new beginning for him and his world...if the conspirators don't break him first." (DOR, Tom Doherty)
Warren Hammond bio from his website:
"Warren grew up in the Hudson River Valley of New York State. Upon obtaining his teaching degree from the University at Albany, he moved to Colorado, married his wife Kathy, and settled in the Platt Park neighborhood of Denver where he can usually be found typing away at the local coffee shop or browsing the selection at the Tattered Cover.
"His first novel, KOP, was published by Tor Books in 2007. Its sequel, Ex-KOP, hit shelves in October 2008. Currently he is writing KOP Killer, the third book in the KOP series. Splitting his time between devouring science fiction and classic crime noir, he lists among his important influences Arthur C. Clarke, Orson Scott Card, Jim Thompson and James Ellroy. Warren is a serious music listener, specializing in blues, reggae and surf. Always eager to see new places, Warren and Kathy have traveled extensively. Whether it’s wildlife viewing in exotic locales like Botswana and the Galapagos Islands, or trekking in the Himalayas, they’re always up for a new adventure."


It's too late for me to recommend this as a Xmas present (although I did gave away a couple), but at the start of New Year 2009, which we may describe to our great grandchildren as the Worst Depression, reading Kop and its sequels may be the perfect way to increase your tolerance for pain, hardboil your heart against depression, and still stoke the fires of a hope that American (gringo) originality, genuine passion(ate writing) and creative talent are not following the economy into mediocrity.
Ex-KOP = Bruce Campbell?
RudyG

Olga Angelina García Echeverría has completed her first book of cuentos y poemas..
Falling Angels
Please join us for the book release
Saturday October 4, 2008 @7:30pm FREE!!!
@ Tropico de Nopal in Los Angeles
1665 Beverly Blvd.
Echo Park, Los Angeles, CA 90026
http://www.tropicodenopal.com
A celebratory noche of vino, angel debauchery and two-tongued poesia and prose
La Spinster of Ceremony:
Sandra C. Muñoz
Winged Palabra By:
Olga Garcia
Elba R. Sanchez
tatiana de la tierra
Have you heard the word
on Falling Angels?
".each of Olga's cuentos stands out in bold testimony to our flourishing
as a people in Urban América. These are puro chicano stories, tales of urban survival
drawn from its most vulnerable and visionary inhabitants." -Cherríe Moraga,
author of Loving in the War Years
".The women and men in these pages make us think, laugh, and feel proud; they
are conocidos speaking in real speak. Without a doubt, this unique collection establishes
Olga as a lengualistic code-switching queen!"
-Elba R. Sánchez, escritora and editor
About the Author Olga García Echeverría is a Los Angeles-based writer and teacher. She has a Bachelor of Arts in Ethnic Studies from the University of California at Santa Cruz and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Texas at El Paso. This is her first book. Falling Angels: Cuentos y Poemas by Olga García EcheveríaISBN 978-0-9717035-6-8/ $14.00+s/h / Perfectbound
Flipbook (one side stories/one side poetry) / 136 pages
Cover and illustrations by Ricardo Islas.
***
KOP, Ex-KOP reading in Denver
One of the best times I had at WorldCon this summer in Denver was spent with
Kat Richardson author of
Underground, Warren Hammond and
Mario Acevedo whose latest book has just come out--
The Undead Kama Sutra, the third in his Felix Gomez vampire series (reviewed by Michael Sedano on
La Bloga on Sept. 16, last month). I only managed to partake of some Japanese cuisine and copious amounts of drinks with them, but hanging out with three published novelists whetted my appetite to be discovered.
Warren Hammond was the nicest guy, and if his writing is as good--which I can't yet attest to--you can check him out this weekend in Denver. Warren will discuss and sign his newest book,
Ex-KOP, a futuristic thriller in the noir tradition, which brings heartbreak and redemption for the flawed hero of Warren’s first book,
KOP. Copies of
KOP, in both hardcover and mass market paperback will also be available. All at 10% off cover price.
Sunday, October 5, 3:00, DENVER BOOK MALL, 32 Broadway (between 1st and Ellsworth Aves) – Contact Nina Else, at the Denver Book Mall, 303-733-3808, for any questions.
-- RudyG
Los invito a asomarse a mi cibernovela MALDITA WEB, publicada en internet:
http://malditaweb.blogspot.com
Allí expongo lo siguiente:
©MALDITA WEB
Internet se ha convertido en la vanguardia más salvaje de interacción humana. Y es que el ciberespacio genera una nueva forma de estar juntos, burlando todas las fronteras de sexo, edad, profesión y ubicación geográfica. ¿Ficción, autoengaño, juego de roles, suplantación de personalidad? En su propia modalidad, la red entreteje su maraña en torno a la soledad y pasiones del individuo seducido por una tecnología que se instaló entre nosotros para quedarse. Con su cuerpo de múltiples opciones, personalizadas según las preferencias de cada usuario, ©MALDITA WEB prodiga placer digital, orgiástico, anónimo e instantáneo. “¿Dios existe en red?”, se pregunta uno de los personajes de esta cibernovela que se asoma con impudicia a los e-mails y salones de chateo, desnudando a los internautas. No en vano, la web es el escenario donde se viene escribiendo este jardín de las delicias obscenamente contemporáneo.
Ah, y enhorabuena por este portal generoso y solidario.
Cordialmente,
Javier Miranda-Luque.
I invite all of you to read Warren Hammond's Kop and ex-KOP. Warren has traveled extensively around the world. He's taken what he's seen of the West's exploitation of the Third World, especially Africa, and applied it in a futuristic setting. Very insightful and often a brutal reflection of our times.