On Genre
I want to do EVERYTHING
NEWS:
The big news is that I can now confirm that there will be not one but two James Kinsley titles released in 2025. Hot on the heels of Parallels (22 May), my fourth book, and my third for Deixis Press, will be It’s Hard to Tell You This, out on 25 September. More below.
Oh, and we have someone v exciting who’s agreed to look at that second book with a view to possibly providing a quote for the cover (if they like it). But I’m keeping that under my hat for now.
ON WRITING:
I touched on this around this time last year, but given the above news about my fourth book It’s Hard to Tell You This, this seemed a good time to talk about the subject of genre more directly.
It’s Hard to Tell You This1 tells the story of Michael, a middle-aged man reaching a crisis point2. Prompted by the death of his father and an old photograph he finds amongst his father’s meagre possessions, Michael’s moved to look back over his past romantic relationships, to confront his mistakes and, ultimately, instigate change. For those of you who have read Playtime’s Over, this novella is far more akin to my debut than either Greyskin or Parallels. No cowboys or aliens in this one, just a flawed man reliving every horrendous mistake he’s ever made and realising what a shit he is3.
I’m far from the first author to dip in and out of genres. Stephen King, synonymous with horror, has written stories in multiple genres. One of my favourite sci-fi authors, Iain M. Banks, also experienced considerable success with literary titles like The Crow Road and The Wasp Factory. So I’m not claiming to be doing anything new.
But Banks does provide an interesting example. His two strands were clearly delineated, with that middle M. used to identify his genre work, with his contemporary literary work published just as Iain Banks. King also used a pseudonym for some of his books, not specifically as a genre label, but certainly to put out books that differed in tone from his SK stuff.
My self-publishing pseudonym, Ray Adams, has a more practical purpose. If you see James Kinsley on a book, it’s traditionally published - a publisher has put their stamp of approval on it, I’ve worked with an editor on it. Ray Adams is 100% me so, out of respect for my publishers, it’s attributed differently to prevent any potential stinkers tarnishing the James Kinsley brand4. Not that there are any stinkers, because the Ray Adams stuff is obviously great. But just in case…
Has it ever occurred to me to differentiate between my genre work and my more contemporary/literary, though? Not at all. I wouldn’t ascribe this motive to anyone who does differentiate, but I would be loathe to do something that might look as if I somehow value my genre work differently. To me, a sci-fi like Parallels or a fantasy like Greyskin has the same inherent worth as Playtimes Over or IHTTYT. On the shelves they may get sequestered into their own little section, but to me they are all just my books. There’s no reason why someone who enjoyed Playtime should steer clear of Greyskin just because it’s a different genre.
Harriett Gilbert, host of Radio 4’s A Good Read, will never fail, when a guest chooses a science fiction book, to tell listeners that she doesn’t really ‘do’ sci-fi5. More often than not, it feels, she’s followed that with a “… but I actually enjoyed this”, to the degree where I think it needs pointing out to her that she very much does do sci-fi, and should stop bloody apologising for it. But she’s not alone in this, of course. The great Harlan Ellison once said “Call me a 'science-fiction' writer and I'll come to your house and nail your pet's head to the table,” despite being responsible for one of the greatest episodes of Star Trek ever made. The great Margaret Atwood famously dismissed the genre as “talking squids in outer space”. Kurt Vonnegut, meanwhile, said, “I have been a sore-headed occupant of a file drawer labelled ‘science fiction’... and I would like out, particularly since so many serious critics regularly mistake the drawer for a urinal.”
The Vonnegut quote gets, I think, to the heart of the matter. Its less about a scathing disregard for the genre than it is for the desire not to be lumped into other people’s scathing disregard. There’s a sense that if you wish to be taken seriously as a Writer, you need to distance yourself from anything with a lingering smell of cosplay in convention halls. Greyskin got a decent review in the Mail, but it was ‘only’ in their sci-fi/fantasy round-up - something like that wouldn’t share column inches with serious literature.
To heck with that, I say. I’m not going to defend science fiction here (once I start I’ll never stop), I just want to make the point that for me, I’m as proud to write science fiction as I am to write something like IHTTYT. I don’t want to be contained by any genre. I write the stories I want to write; no more, no less. The idea of doing just one thing and being known for that doesn’t interest me in the slightest. So when you see the name ‘James Kinsley’ on a book, there’s no clue in that as to what’s on the inside other than, I hope, an interesting story for you to enjoy.
Now if you’ll excuse me, this Regency period romance won’t write itself…
I have enjoyed:
Small, Slow But Steady - The title refers to her trainer’s assessment of protagonist Keiko’s skill as a boxer, but could equally be a description of the film itself. Yukino Kishii plays Keiko, a profoundly deaf young woman who’s just turned professional in her boxing carer as the COVID-19 pandemic hits. Unsure of her future, or that of the gym she trains in, the film uses her deafness to eschew traditional ideas of dialogue or narrative, to deliver a meditative, almost abstract, and extremely atmospheric slow drama. Genuinely profound and deeply moving.
Rocky, this isn’t… Candy - On June 13, 1980, Candice Montgomery entered the home of her friend Betty Gore to collect a swimsuit for Betty’s daughter who was staying overnight with the Montgomerys. While there, she killed Gore with an axe, striking her body 41 times in an act Montgomery later claimed was self-defence, saying Gore had confronted her about her affair with Gore’s husband. Jessica Biel and Melanie Lynskey give outstanding performances as Montgomery and Gore respectively in this 5-episode telling of this shocking true story6. Kudos also to Pablo Schreiber and Timothy Simons as Gore and Montgomery’s spouses, whose portrayal of really average 70s suburban husbands is pitch-perfect. As Montgomery’s friend puts in when she first confides the affair, on the basis of her husband’s complete lack of spark, “Oh honey, isn’t that kind of a lateral move?”
It’s no stretch to believe that this beige monstrosity’s name is Pat. Brother - ‘Beat’ Takeshi Kitano’s only attempt to transition to Hollywood did not pay off, with critics or his own expectations, but a lesser Kitano movie is still a Kitano movie and Brother has so much going for it. Plenty of violence, natch, some of which will provoke inappropriate laughter; a superb supporting performance from Omar Epps and Kitano’s trademark slumped Weekend-at-Bernie’s deadpan presence that somehow oozes charisma while channelling a sleeping Columbo.
A rare moment from Brother of nobody getting shot. Blind Rage - This 1976 blaxploitation martial arts movie has an intriguing premise - five blind men undertake a bank heist. (Un)fortunately, whoever dreamt up the concept clearly took the rest of the month off, leaving the film in the hands of people who clearly had no money7 and no idea how blind men, bank heists or normal human conversation actually work. However this section is “I have enjoyed” not “These things are necessarily good”, and Blind Rage is worth seeing for the outfits alone. To quote a CIA agent from the climax of the movie, “It’s all going down right now at the International House of Pancakes!”
This is the point where the guy on the right tells a complete stranger to count him in after being told literally nothing more about the “job” than it’ll pay “a lot of money” and what he’ll have to do is “follow instructions”.
Greyskin (Deixis Press) and Playtime’s Over (Propolis) are both available direct from their respective publishers, as well as from all the usual places, online and off. Ray Adams’ self-published books are available online.
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I’ve written the title three times in this newsletter now, and I’m already wishing I’d picked something shorter (I’m kidding, Angel)
Shut up.
See point two.
Ugh, ‘brand’. Pretentious tosspot.
There are few people I’d forgive for such genre snobbery, but this is Harriett Gilbert, after all.
I watched all 270 minutes of this without realising the sheriff investigating the killing was being played by Justin Timberlake. Now that’s impressive.
One highlight was the scene where we learn how the five became blind. One was blinded by the mob (cutaway to a scene showing the guy fighting the mob), one was blinded by the Yakuza for betraying them on a drug deal (cutaway to the guy stealing the drugs then being blinded), one was gored by bull (cutaway to… nothing, because presumably an actual bull was way beyond their budget).