John @ Tales from Absurdia, Author at Tales from Absurdia

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Review

April 6, 2022July 26, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

When Suzanne Collins announced that she was writing a prequel to The Hunger Games trilogy, tongues started wagging.

Would it be about Haymitch’s time in the arena? Would it take place during the Dark Days?

Well, neither apparently.

Collins instead chose to write a novel about President Coriolanus Snow’s teenage years. Sound unappealing? You’re not alone! It has proven divisive amongst fans.

However, I quite enjoyed The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. It’s a flawed but nonetheless interesting detour through post-war Panem.

8 Quotes About Travel by Writers

August 6, 2023July 19, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

8 Literary Quotes About Adventure Waldo Emerson

Great literature can transport you anywhere.

But if you have the opportunity to do so, traveling is good for the soul.

It offers perspective – especially if you travel alone – and builds character. You have to learn to have the confidence to rely on yourself.

Here are 8 of my favourite quotes about travel from writers, starting with writer and chef Anthony Bourdain.

June 2020 Reading Roundup

May 31, 2021July 2, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

The month of June was fairly sparse in terms of reading time, so it’s a very short roundup this time.

However, from non-fiction to sci-fi, I did cover quite a diverse range of books…

No One is Too Small to Make a Difference, Greta Thunberg

For some reason, Greta is a divisive figure.

Break it all down and she’s simply a passionate young woman with a strong, single-minded desire to protect the environment.

As for her book; it’s less a book and more a collection of speeches. From addressing the European Parliament to House of Commons, No One is Too Small to Make a Difference is a manifesto of Greta’s ideas.

On one hand, it can be quite repetitive. Many of the speeches are similar. Because of this, I don’t think that No One is Too Small to Make a Difference benefits from being read. I’d recommend listening to the audiobook version if you have the option to.

On the other hand, of course they’re similar – you can’t be an activist and have a vague, confusing message that changes every other week.

And that’s the real brilliance of No One is Too Small to Make a Difference. You cannot possibly come away from this book without understanding Greta’s environmental argument.

As she says – if you don’t want to be lectured by a teenager, then don’t listen to her. Just listen to the science.

A Monster Calls, Patrick Ness

A Monster Calls is a strange creature of a book. It’s simultaneously dark, funny, breathtakingly tragic, and yet therapeutic.

I suppose it’s a book that examines grief and mortality through the lens of a novel. And I really like that – even if it left me feeling rather numb.

At times reminiscent of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, at others the BFG, A Monster Calls manages to carve out its own identity thanks to the author’s ability to communicate real, intense emotions through its protagonist Conor O’Malley.

Conor is disturbed. Not just by the monster that haunts him at 00:07 every night. But by the bullying he experiences on a daily basis at school, the unconventional family setup, and his mother’s deteriorating medical condition.

Ness captures perfectly the crippling anxiety of school, the resentment of a distant father, and the stubborn, unwillingness of a child to face reality. It’s a marvellous book that reaches deep into your soul.

In fact, I still feel quite unsettled by A Monster Calls (that’s an very positive endorsement, by the way).

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

This was my first experience of Dick.

With this inevitable joke is out of the way, let’s talk Blade Runner. Or as the novel is named, ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’.

I’m not sure about this one. I liked it, but I didn’t love it.

Dick has a tendency to overwrite. His sentences are unnecessarily long, whilst saying very little. I seem to remember it taking him a couple of pages to describe Rick Deckard’s decision-process on whether to buy a goat or not.

It isn’t all bad though.

In fact, the setting is awesome. It’s an uncompromisingly grim future where much of humanity has left earth, whilst the few who remain live out their lives in drab, corrupt cities – using ‘mood organs’ to artificially regulate their state of mind.

The plot is okay. At times it threatens to be interesting, building towards a dramatic confrontation between Deckard and his replicant prey, only for the novel to end on a somewhat anticlimactic note.

Whilst I felt quite indifferent towards Blade Runner (the movie adaptation), it at least had the iconic confrontation between ‘Replicant’ Roy Batty and Detective Rick Deckard.

And there are some great philosophical ideas at play in Ridley Scott’s movie, which I can appreciate. They’re present in the novel, but it does feel like a rare case of the book being inferior to its big screen adaptation.

That being said, I did enjoy my first foray into the works of Philip K. Dick. Just not as much as I hoped to.

Central City, Indy Perro

This brings me on to my final book of the month – Central City is a debut novel by writer and ‘recovering academic’, Indy Perro.

A crime fiction novel, Central City follows Detectives Bayonne and McKenna as they investigate a spate of similar murders. Meanwhile, ex-con Kane Kulpa tries to move on from his past.

My feelings about the novel are not dissimilar to ‘Do Androids Dream…?’ actually; with the small caveat that I think Indy Perro is probably a more talented writer than Philip K. Dick.

Central City itself is well-realised. It’s a living, breathing place, mapped meticulously by its protagonists. There’s a lot of tension brewing between the Irish, Italian, and Korean gangs, sometimes spilling over, and as a reader, you quickly understand that places like Waite Park are to be avoided!

I also really enjoyed the characters. Bayonne and McKenna form a sort of ‘buddy cop’ style relationship, with the former an experienced detective (not unlike Colombo!) and the latter a fresh-faced recruit. We’ve seen this before, but it works and I enjoyed it a lot.

On the other hand, the plot is meandering and disinteresting. For an already short book, it needs more to drive it forward. There aren’t really any twists I didn’t see coming, and it’s just not that thrilling.

Regardless, for a debut novel, it’s not a bad effort. Perro has some great groundwork if he wishes to revisit Central City in the future, which I hope he does.

What have you read this month? Leave your recommendations in the comments below!

A Conversation with… Daniel Peterson

May 31, 2021June 28, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

Following my review of The Playmaker Project (spoilers – it’s very good!), Daniel Peterson and I got together to discuss life, his influences, and of course, his debut fiction novel.

Hi Daniel, great to speak with you! Could you tell my readers a little more about yourself?

John, thank you for the opportunity!

Well, I am relatively new to writing books, especially fiction. For 25 years, I was in health care information technology management, working in hospitals and clinics to introduce those wonderful electronic medical record systems that we all love.

But, more importantly, my wife and I raised three sons who all played sports growing up. As a part-time coach and full-time fan, I was always fascinated with how they were able to learn all of those specific skills and make such quick decisions out on the field. It became a slight obsession for me, as I started reading academic papers and books on the brain, cognitive science and psychology.

After writing over 300 articles on the topic for my blog and for other sports science websites, I decided to write a nonfiction book about what I had learned.

I partnered with Dr. Leonard Zaichkowsky, a professor of sports performance psychology at Boston University for almost 40 years, to write The Playmaker’s Advantage. It was published by Simon & Schuster in 2018 and now we’re writing a follow-up focused just on decision making in sports.

So – The Playmaker Project – I believe that it’s your first venture into fiction writing. How did you find the whole process? What did you learn?

Yes, this is my first novel! I enjoyed the writing process so much with our nonfiction book that I think I got a little too overconfident and jumped into writing fiction. Obviously, I borrowed not only the “Playmaker” tag from the first book but also inserted much of the neurotechnology that I learned into the plot of Eddie Alonso’s first adventure.

I learned that fiction is a whole different animal to write. With nonfiction, I can layout the chapters, each with their own topic, and compartmentalize stories, research and ideas, much like writing 10-12 essays. Overall it needs to flow but it can be broken down into pieces.

With fiction, I had to juggle so many variables in my brain in every chapter. Characters, settings, plot lines, emotions and known facts at any point in time. They all had to be in my working memory at the same time so that there was continuity and a progression of the overall story.

It was kind of like the guy at the circus keeping all of the plates spinning at the same time. It was challenging but I loved it and I feel I have plenty of room for improvement in future books!

Early in the novel, Eddie makes a reference to soccer being one of the ‘minor sports’ (compared to the more popular Basketball/American Football).

This got me thinking – why soccer, specifically, as opposed to much more popular U.S.-based sports?

That’s a great question!

First, my own boys played multiple sports but soccer was their favorite and two of them played in college. And I am a big fan of MLS and international soccer, so I was familiar with the sport.

I also was hoping the book would appeal to the global audience of soccer (football) fans, as opposed to the mostly U.S.-based fans of baseball and American football.

And, despite its worldwide popularity, soccer is still a minor sport in Eddie’s hometown of St. Cloud, Minnesota compared to the American classic sports, especially hockey!

As I mentioned in my review, soccer and neuroscience are a curious combination. What was your thinking behind combining them for a novel?

Whilst this isn’t always the case, sci-fi and soccer fans do tend to be fairly different crowds. Did this raise any challenges when it came to marketing the book?

You’re right, it is a curious combination. Again, my fascination with the brain and how athletes learn and develop cognitively was to blame.

Conceptually, I had this idea of a “sports thriller” genre that included the fast-paced, money-infused world of international sports and the all-out will to win. As we’ve seen with doping scandals, athletes and owners are willing to push the boundaries and even break the rules to chase their dreams of victory.

So, direct brain enhancement, like we see in this book, seemed to be a plausible area that will be a reality in the next few years.

Are you working on anything else at the moment?

Yes, the follow-up, nonfiction book on athlete decision-making with Dr. Zaichkowsky will be published this Fall.

I’ve also partnered with another academic leader to write a book on vision that should be out in 2021.

And the next Eddie Alonso adventure should be out early next year, with Eddie and Anna still together and “tackling” a controversial and disturbing development in American football!

Who inspires you? (Writer, or otherwise!)

On the fiction side, I’m a big fan of Daniel Silva. For me, his writing is rich and sophisticated, taking me on journeys into the complicated world of his hero, Gabriel Allon. John LeCarré, Clive Cussler and Michael Crichton are also on my shortlist.

For nonfiction, Bill Bryson, Malcolm Gladwell, and the nonfiction work of Michael Lewis inspire my writing in their own unique ways. I have a long way to go but I try to measure my progress against their high standards.

And finally… If you could only ever read one book again, what would that be?

Well, for practical life purposes, the Bible.

To find out more about the works of Daniel Peterson, check out his Goodreads profile for a full list of current and upcoming projects.

Massive thank you to Daniel for getting involved!

4 Compelling Reasons to Sign up to a Library

September 7, 2022June 21, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

In a world of streaming, e-readers, and on-demand services, libraries have fallen out of favour in recent years. With other options, people need compelling reasons to sign up to a library.

And until recently, I hadn’t been a member of a library for quite a few years.

But I’m not the only one. In the UK, library usage is down at 33% compared to 48% in 2005.

The good news is that libraries are evolving how they deliver their goods through the use of technology. You don’t even need to go to the library itself if you don’t want to!

So, with this in mind, here are 4 compelling reasons to sign up to a library!

The Sound Mirror Review

May 30, 2021June 9, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

May 2020 Reading Roundup The Sound Mirror

The Sound Mirror is, without a doubt, my favourite novel of the year so far.

Without spoilers, here’s why.

*Disclaimer: I received a free advance reading copy from the author in exchange for a fair and honest review.

May 2020 Reading Roundup

May 31, 2021May 31, 2020 by John @ Tales from Absurdia

May 2020 was my first month on NetGalley.

I also read my favourite book of the year so far!

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce

A Portrait of the Artist is about the shaping of a man named Stephen Dedalus from a meek child into a confident writer and thinker – shaking off the shackles of Irish politics and religion.

The detail is in the name, Dedalus. Mirroring, the story of Icarus and his father Daedalus, Stephen’s journey is one of soaring optimism, occasionally clipped by crippling setbacks, before he eventually leaves Ireland.

There’s an element of autobiography here. Joyce himself, much like Stephen Dedalus, eventually left Ireland for Europe in order to forge his own future.

The academic who wrote the introduction to my edition makes an interesting point. Whilst a Bildungsroman is a ‘coming of age’ novel (Pip in Great Expectations, for example), A Portrait of the Artist is more than that. It’s the ‘coming of age’ of an artist – the growth of a young man into an artist.

To borrow again from Greek mythology; it’s the story of Stephen’s ongoing attempts to spread his wings. Because of this, A Portrait of the Artist feels quite therapeutic at times; it’s a view into one’s past, before eventually disposing of it and moving forward.

I think we all go through this in one way or another.

Joyce is notoriously difficult to read but these days, as a more experienced reader than when I first encountered Joyce, I thoroughly enjoyed the story of Stephen Dedalus.

The Walking Dead (Vols. 1&2), Robert Kirkman

Until I read The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, graphic novels didn’t really appeal to me.

May 2020 Reading Roundup The Walking Dead — Coral memes are best memes…

Certainly no snobbery on my part – I just wasn’t sure if I would enjoy the format as much as prose.

Well, fast-forward seven years, and I finally got around to trying The Walking Dead. The first 10 volumes are available as part of a Kindle Unlimited subscription, so – as an on-and-off fan of the TV show – I thought I’d give them a try!

In May, I read volumes 1 and 2 and in short, I liked them a lot.

The illustrations are excellent and the pacing is a lot better than the TV show – there’s very little filler, for example.

Interestingly, I also read both volumes on my mobile phone. This sounds awful, but it just works!

The Kindle app allows you to read comics and graphic novels in a ‘panel view’ (for non-comic fans, pages are usually divided up into square windows, denoting each scene). With this panel view, you view the entirety of each individual graphic on your screen (with zoom features included!) and simply swipe your finger to move to the next panel.

I genuinely think that technology, such as the panel view, will convert non-comic book fans. It’s accessible, a wonderful way to tell a story, and I couldn’t get enough of experiencing it this way.

On the other hand, the graphic novel falls into a similar trap to that the TV show.

It think it’s far smarter than it actually is. Robert Kirkman’s intro smacks you in the face, presenting The Walking Dead as a powerful, unique exercise in the evaluating the human psyche.

I think that the reader/viewer can make their own mind up.

Nonetheless, it’s still a fantastic comic and I plan on reading further volumes!

The Playmaker Project, Daniel Peterson

What do you get if you cross sci-fi, soccer, and geopolitics?

The Playmaker Project, apparently!

With a wholly original story, Daniel Peterson’s debut fiction novel manages to fuse these seemingly separate topics with great success.

In brief, a billionaire tycoon signs two US youth players for an upstart Finnish soccer club. Awash with money, the club is secretly running a cognitive training programme, hoping to reach the next level of performance through neuroscience.

If it sounds a little abstract, I suppose it probably is. However, it’s an engrossing adventure with likeable characters, and is written with great clarity. All the signifiers of a good book!

You can read the full write-up in my review of The Playmaker Project.

* A copy of The Playmaker Project was provided for free via NetGalley, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Pub date: OUT NOW.

The Girl from the Attic, Marie Prins

The Girl from the Attic is a magic realism novel.

And on the face of it, that’s quite exciting. I love magic realism.

But whilst I liked it, I didn’t love this one. It should have been a lot more charming than it actually was. It’s a decent, if unspectacular, read.

Anyhow – after moving into a quirky octagonal cottage, intrepid youngster Maddy realises that there’s a hatch in the attic that leads to another world.

Well, not quite another world. It’s the same house in fact, but over a hundred years in the past.

Struggling to adjust to her new life and isolated from her friends in the city, Maddy spends more and more time in the past, neglecting her own family.

The house itself is fascinating, but the characters themselves just aren’t that memorable. And, for a 250 page book, there isn’t a whole lot of plot.

As I highlighted in my Goodreads review*, I felt that The Girl from the Attic probably should have been a short story, rather than a full novel. There’s a lot of filler. If the author had edited it down further, I may have enjoyed it more than I did.

Regardless, The Girl from the Attic has some touching moments and a very unique setting. I liked it, but I didn’t love it.

* A copy of The Girl from the Attic was provided for free via NetGalley, in exchange for a fair and honest review. Pub date: Oct. 2020.

The Sound Mirror, Heidi James

I’ve saved the best till last with this one.

The Sound Mirror is a multi-generational examination of the female experience in Britain. Through the lens of 3 central characters – Tamara, Claire, and Ada – Heidi James’ novel addresses race, class, and gender.

These three perspectives are interwoven by absolutely stunning prose. It’s a tessellation of the fall of the Indian Raj, the social politics of post-WW2 Britain, and, lastly, a glimpse into the contemporary world.

What I really loved about The Sound Mirror was its authenticity. Each woman has a distinct tone of voice. You’re never ‘reading’ these characters as characters; you’re experiencing them as living, breathing people with complex histories. Having this sort of insight is a very unusual feeling as a male reader.

In short, The Sound Mirror is easily the best book I’ve read all year.

Please strongly consider buying it direct from Bluemoose Books when it releases on 20^th August, 2020.

* A copy of The Sound Mirror was provided for free by the author, in exchange for a fair and honest review.

What have you read this month? Leave your recommendations in the comments below!

“At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face.” Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

The Beginner’s Guide to Absurdism is designed to provide a surface-level understanding of the Absurd – a philosophical concept on human existence.

What is the Absurd? Is it any different to Nihilism? And where does Donkey Kong fit into all of this?!

My Beginner’s Guide to Absurdism addresses all these questions – and more!

What is Absurdism?

Absurdism is a philosophical theory on the meaning of life.

Well, okay, it’s a bit more complex than that. Rather, Absurdism is the conflict that arises between our expectations and reality.

Scientists know the how of human existence (i.e. the big bang), but we don’t know the why.

What exactly is our existential purpose?

Humans are pattern-seeking mammals, and we like to find reasoning where possible. The frustration to find this singular meaning is the Absurd.

To quote Camus, it’s ‘the divorce between the mind that desires and the world that disappoints’.

But, to be clear – life itself is not Absurd. Nor are people.

The Absurd is that single moment, the tear in reality one suffers upon realising that there is no objective meaning to our lives. This means that there is no pre-ordained purpose, or explicit reason, as to why we’re here.

Isn’t this just Nihilism?

No.

Nihilism is the negation of all principles, both moral and existential.

Nihilists and Absurdists both agree that there is no objective meaning of life. However, there is a clear difference between the two.

Nihilism: “Life has no meaning, therefore nothing really matters”

Absurdism: “Life has no meaning, but how do we move beyond this realisation?”

For a Nihilist, lack of meaning is the end. On the other hand, the Absurdist looks beyond this lack of meaning.

Upon realising this lack of purpose or meaning, the Absurdist asks the question, ‘well, what now?’

Awareness of the Absurd is simply the beginning point for the Absurdist.

Living an Absurd Life

Albert Camus, the writer and philosopher most closely identifiable with Absurdism, argues that there are three responses to the Absurd – only one of which is correct.

1) Suicide ❌

Upon the realisation that life has no meaning, you could kill yourself.

However, this isn’t desirable.

Socially, suicide is a terrible thing. But on a philosophical level, it doesn’t resolve the Absurd. It simply severs the tie between oneself and the Absurd.

This, Camus argues, is not the answer.

2) Philosophical Suicide ❌

Alternatively, you could turn away from the Absurd through what Camus describes as ‘philosophical suicide’.

In short, this is when a person takes a ‘leap of faith’.

Often associated with religion, this leap of faith solves one part of the equation, insofar as the person is now comforted by their own constructed meaning.

However, philosophical suicide is denial.

It’s a confession that one is unwilling to confront the Absurd. And therefore, the Absurd remains unresolved.

3) Revolt through Acceptance ✔️

Once one has experienced the Absurd, it’s difficult to ‘unsee’ it.

Alone, at 2am in the morning, one reflects. In this heightened lucidity, one remembers the enormity of the Absurd – its dizzying, alienating truth.

The third solution is revolt.

How do we revolt? Well, one must first embrace the Absurd for what it is. Accept the inescapable truth that neither rationality nor religion will give you an objective meaning.

Create art that parodies the Absurd condition. Rage against the existential machine. Live life to its fullest, but without ever losing sight of the Absurd (or else you risk philosophical suicide!)

Live in permanent revolt against your condition, but humanely and maybe even ironically!

Examples of the Absurd

The Myth of Sisyphus

The title of Camus’ essay on the Absurd, Sisyphus was also a deceitful King in Greek mythology.

Twice, he cheated death before Zeus condemned him to the Underworld.

From here, Sisyphus was forced to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill for eternity. Every time Sisyphus almost reached the top, straining every muscle of his body, the boulder would roll back to the bottom, and he would be forced to begin again.

How does this relate to us?

Well, we’re asked to ‘image Sisyphus happy’ by Camus. Sisyphus embraces the boulder and his own condition. And in this way, he wins a victory against Zeus once again.

Christopher Hitchens on Fear, Life, and Free Will

I’m not quite sure that Hitchens intended his comments to be an Absurdist revolt (rather, he was speaking on free will).

However, in my view, Hitchens encapsulates the concept of an ‘absurd life’ succinctly – and humourously!

“You’re expelled from your mother’s uterus – as if shot from a cannon – towards a barn door studded with old nail files and rusty hooks.

It’s a matter of using up the intervening time in an intelligent and ironic way – and try not to do anything ghastly to your fellow creatures.” Source: youtube.com.

A rather crude analogy, but it demonstrates the alienation, and eventual emancipation an Absurdist gains from accepting, and subsequently embracing, the absurd.

Donkey Kong (1981)

Hear me out.

Wisecrack runs a YouTube series called 8-Bit Philosophy. It’s an approachable, if simplistic, view of philosophical ideas.

One of their episodes focuses on ‘Why Shouldn’t We Commit Suicide?’ addressing Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus through the lens of the 1981 videogame, Donkey Kong.

Mario must climb a series of ladders in order to rescue Pauline, a damsel in distress, from Donkey Kong – an ape who has taken her captive.

At the end of every level, Mario reaches the top, overcoming a variety of traps, barrels, and fire, only for Donkey Kong to carry Pauline off to another ‘level’.

If Mario, or in this case the player, embraces this reality, they consciously create an Absurd meaning and therefore live an Absurd life.

8-Bit Philosophy does a decent job of explaining complex ideas, and you can watch them all here!

The Beginner’s Guide to Absurdism Recommended Reading

Unsure of where to start with Absurdist literature? These are my top 5 books that either directly address, or contain Absurdist undertones.

1) Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

2) Albert Camus, The Plague

3) Franz Kafka, The Trial

4) Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground

5) Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

Absurdism in Brief

In brief, Absurdism is the divorce between our expectations of meaning and the reality that eludes us. Our innate desire to find patterns in meaning will ultimately be disappointed.

However, this isn’t the end. Absurdism is not Nihilism.

‘Even within the limits of nihilism, it is possible to find the means to proceed beyond nihilism,’ Camus writes in The Myth of Sisyphus.

Living ironically, the Absurdist parodies their own condition. They produce art, music, and literature that both celebrates and revolts against their situation.

The Absurdist embraces their Sisyphean struggle. They create their own boulder, and in the seemingly fruitless struggle, they remain content.

If you found The Beginner’s Guide to Absurdism insightful, please do feel free to share it.

And if you have any questions, leave me a comment below!