Here, I'd like to talk about Lloyd Biggle Jr's book, The Still Small Voice of Trumpets.  Why would I like to talk about it?  You'll see.

Biggle's book was one of my favorites as a teen.  It is a standard adventure science fiction with a shadowy "federation of planets" type setup.  For a new world to be admitted to this federation, it must have a democratic government.  However, Earth's agents are forbidden from imposing democracy from outside.  (In the seventies, I was greatly impressed by the motto "democracy imposed from the outside is the greatest of tyrannies."  This runs counter the history of Japan, for instance, but at the same age, I was also impressed by the sudden realization that we're all naked under our clothes.  There are miles and miles of twerpitude on the way to being a grown up - as Pratchett might say.)

The world that our main character - a member of Earth's secret service, trying to bring about a revolution in this newly discovered planet - is sent to infiltrate is inhabited by a human breed that is absolutely enamored of beauty.  In fact, the book starts with a peasant woman risking her life to keep something beautiful.

The mission goes wrong from the beginning, in ways I won't detail.  This post requires me to give away the ending, but even if you know that, the book is a pretty good read, full of fun and resonance.

The main problem the character faces is how to bring about a revolution from within - how to spur the natives, themselves, to revolution.  Though the world is ruled by an absolute king, the public is pretty satisfied with his rule.  He finally finds the way to make people aware of how tyrannical the king is.

You see, the king can - and does - send anyone who displeases him (or just happens to be in his vicinity when he has a toothache or whatever) to a village of the exiles.  This is done by cutting off one of their arms, first.  Now, most people sent to these villages are unknowns - the king's chefs, physicians, servants and probably the occasional minister. 

But one category sent there are musicians.  The main instrument in this world is a sort of harp. (IIRC) You need both hands to play it.  The king, as passionate about beauty as his subjects, loves art and has musicians play before him often.  Which means, he has one of their arms cut off fairly often too.

These musicians are known and revered and have followings.  But once their arm is cut off, they can no longer play, they go to these villages - they disappear.  Their public forgets them.

The main character hits upon the idea of creating trumpets that the exiled ones can play, then has the musicians parade back into civilization playing their trumpets, reclaiming their public - thereby fomenting a coup.

Now, I'm not suggesting that the current state of affairs in publishing has anything to do with tyrannical anything.  I mean, bookstores and distributors often seem tyrannical to readers, but I'm sure it's simply because we don't understand the imperatives of THEIR business.

We are, however, in the middle of a revolution, and one of the things the e-book tech revolution is doing (amid all the confusion and fear) is giving those writers who were consigned to exile through no fault of their own an instrument they can play, and a road back into civilization.

Writers whose fans forgot they existed; writers who spent years honing their craft only to disappear from view forever, will now be publishing again.

Even better, the books have the potential to be available forever, at no cost to the publisher and/or the writer.  This means there is a chance for books that went relatively unnoticed but which deserve notice, to acquire it.

This is - to me, perhaps because I am a writer - the best part of this "revolution".  It gives us instruments we can play.  It allows us to come down the road, our capes fluttering, playing our trumpets, allowing people to look at us.

There are many other points pro and con what is happening - many shoals on our way to a happy ending we might or might not read.  The most important of these is how the reader will find us - and I do have ideas on how to do that.  I'll be covering those in daily posts probably for a week.  But for now, think of the series that were interrupted that you'd like to see finished.  Right off the top of my head, I can tell you I WANT to read more of the Lord Meren Egyptian Mysteries (written by Lynda Robinson.)  I'm sure you can think of some yourself.

Stop and think - won't it be lovely to hear again the still, small voice of vanished writers?

This post crossposted at According To Hoyt.  Related post at Mad Genius Club.