The author of this site is current in Peru, somewhere in the vicinity of Lake Titicaca, fervently conducting some thorough research on mountains for The Order of the Scales.
I’ve cleared my desk and handed in my pass. By the time I come back, I’ll officially be a full-time writer.
Um.
Er.
Ah well. Drawn a blank there, so I’ll wallow in self-indulgence instead. Take this Trudi Canavan (at last)!
There’s also another review that looks at both The Adamantine Palace and King of the Crags: “The first book was a marvellous debut. The second book trumped it hands down. The excitement, thrills and spills anticipated in the final book promise to be an incomparable fantasy ride.” Media Culture. Makes me wonder how you reviewer folks deal with trilogies – sure, the first book has to stand on its own, but does the second book? Or does the first book influence how you review the second? Do you go back and re-evaluate the whole trilogy when you’ve read all three? How often do you find yourself thinking differently about the first book after reading the last?
Something for another day. Back to the self-indulgence, and here’s a whole slew of reviews for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice (the thematic similarity of the covers in this picture says something. I’m just waiting for the local Waterstones to have a special hooded man display (or in the case of City of Ruin not-actually-hooded-but-trying-to-act-like-he-ought-to-be) in their SFF section).
First off, an interesting review from LEC book reviews that tries to consier the novel from both an adult and a YA perspective:
Total SciFi Online have a go at seeing from both angles too: “The characters are solid and the setting believable, and though the story takes a little while to get off the ground, the narrative developments are engaging, and there’s enough action and revelations to keep the pages turning. The Thief Taker’s Apprentice is the perfect adventure story for teens.”
An old fan of The Adamantine Palace: “[Has] the clear potential for a great series if the foreshadowing and hints of much deeper stuff materialize in further installments.” Fantasy Book Critic
There’s something slightly flattering about being in the 200th edition of SFX, even if three stars and “An engaging read” is the best I can get out of an it-was-OK review there. Ho hum. However, I’ve had a pretty good response to my request for younger reviews. All six copies have gone out and a couple more besides and the first review is in:
“I very much enjoyed The Thief Takers Apprentice. I was enthralled by the world, the characters and, most of all, the plot.” F – aged 13.
Probably doesn’t mean all that much to anyone else, but I am insanely pleased.
Finally a review in Locus, stuck at the bottom here because it’s scanned. Hard to pull a quote from it, but rather nice if you read it in its entirety.
At the time of writing, I have four novels all at various stages of completion.
The Order of the Scales is with my editor for editing. Eventually it will come back. Some form of rewrite will occur. Then there will be copy-editing, another (minor) rewrite and then the proof-reading (during which I probably won’t change the ending this time).
The Warlock’s Shadow is probably one spit-and-polish rewrite away from being ready to be sent to my editor.
The King’s Assassin exists as a complete first draft. It’s a bit rubbish at the moment, needs at least one major rewrite, but it’s recognisable as a complete story and largely the one that will appear in print one day.
The first draft of The Black Mausoleum is, er…. started.
Now all of that’s probably not very interesting unless you’re my editor, but I think I’ve declared that I’ve ‘finished’ at least two of them at some point in the past. Which might have made sense in the context in which it was said, but does make me wonder what an author actually means when he or she says something is finished.
Is it when the first draft is complete? All the creative hard work is done, after all, and the rewrites are just touching up, right? Well I used to think that, but no, sometimes rewrites involve taking large chunks, throwing them away and replacing them with new large chunks. So no, first draft is NOT finished. Kind of obvious when you stop to think about it.
Maybe a more generally accepted ‘finished’ is when something is submission-ready; when an author genuinely thinks they’ve finished and have something that’s ready to go to print. No author would submit if they didn’t think that, right? Right? I mean, we wouldn’t do it just because it was ‘well, mostly done anyway’ and we were aching for that next advance cheque, right? And editors don’t generally change much, do they? Do they? They don’t for example, take your 200,000 word manuscript and advise you to throw away 185,000 words of it and build a new novel around the remainder? They wouldn’t do that, would they?
Yes, they would. In fact they delight in it. If something was always ‘finished’ when it was submitted, editors would be a bit pointless. If we can’t say we’re finished until we’ve satisfied our editor, you might as well throw in the copy-edit as well. Changes here are supposed to be more about the structure of sentences and paragraphs than about scenes or entire acts, but that’s not to say it can’t happen. You can throw in the proof-reading too.
Even once a book is in print, typos still get found and corrected for subsequent editions. If you’re strict with your definitions, maybe a book is finished when it’s permanently out of print. Although maybe by then it’s almost finished in a different way.
In order to eradicate such confusion, I propose the following taxonomy of ‘finished’s
Done: I have written a first draft that seems fine right now, but will bear little resemblance to the final published story.
Sorted: I have written the second draft that apparently needs just a little spit and polish to be complete, but will still bear little resemblance to the final published story.
Poobah-poobah<unnecessary scene>: I truly and utterly believe I have completed the finest work of fiction ever beheld. Every word is a polished jewel of inspiration. I am merely giving this to my editor so I might revel in his gasps of admiration and delight. I am a Hephaestus among word-smiths, whose creative genious will evolve my readers to higher planes of thought.
Finnished: I have taken my editors many and oft sarcastic comments in my stride. I have also taken both the appropriate calming medicines and the necessary remedial action. Although I will never publicly admit this, it’s probably better than it was.
Really Finnished: I have finished the copy-edit and it is perfect. Now leave me alone.
Finished: I have done the damn proof-reading and removed the fucking typos. I never want to see this book again.
So, for future reference, and just so we all know what we’re talking about, The King’s Assassin is Done, the Warlock’s Shadow is Sorted, and Order of the Scales is Poobah-poobah<unnecessary scene>. There. Isn’t it all much clearer now?
“I highly recommend The Admantine Palace to all readers of fantasy. Even if it has been years since you last read a book about dragons, don’t hesitate to give this one a try. You will not be disappointed.“ SFF Chat. Yep, can’t resist starting with another fine review for The Adamantine Palace.
Back to The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice (3-star review in issue 200 of SFX on its way, apparently, but I don’t know what it says). While we’re at it, Civilian Reader has this to say: “I really enjoyed reading Thief-Taker’s Apprentice, and I’ll definitely be looking out for future novels in the series.”
Well good. However, a couple of comments have captured my attention.
“I was also not sure, upon finishing, if this was YA fantasy or not – I’ve read that it is, but there are some pretty dark and/or graphic scenes in the story, which makes me question if this is accurate.” (from the same review)
“I actually liked Syannis as a character more than I liked Berren because as Thea says, he did have a certain degree of unpredictability as well as an intriguing back story, and that is perhaps another issue since the book is a YA novel and I ended up liking the adult character more.” (from the Booksmugglers)
These aren’t isolated observations either, there are similar comments in other reviews and I’m sure they will continue. I have no problem with that. All opinions are equally valid. So here’s mine:
The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice is intended to be a YA book. That’s not to say adults shouldn’t enjoy it too, but in this book, I’m specifically writing for teenage boys. I happen to think that teenage boys who read fiction probably deserve to be treated pretty much as adults. The content and the style of prose remain as they would be for an adult fantasy novel. And yes, here and there it’s dark. Knives figure prominently and knives are nasty. But look, knives and knife-crime are (apparently) an issue for teenage men. How big an issue I’m not sure, but big enough to make the news every few months. I see no reason why the sort of fourteen-year-old who’s at all likely to pick up a book like this and read it should be talked down to.
And it doesn’t surprise me at all that an adult reader finds Master Sy more interesting. He’s got secrets he holds very close, and they’re big and dark and yes they’ll be back with avengance in the second and third books. In this book, I too find Master Sy to be the more interesting character (that changes as the series goes on, I might add). He’s much more my age, he has a past with some pretty ugly bits, he’s much more like the me of today than Berren, who lives almopst entirely in the here-and-now, is. But on the other hand, I was fourteen once. I remember what it was like and I remember who my heroes were back then, and I’m pretty sure if I asked teenage me which one I liked best, I’d have gone for Berren. Master Sy is written for adult me, Berren for the person I used to be more than half a lifetime ago.
I set out to write a book here that will appeal to adults both old and young, and I’m glad that the, er… older ones ones only barely past their teens and still in the first flush of youth, honest guv, are finding the thief-taker and his lad to be a good read. But that’s only half the story. I’ve reviewed young adult fiction in days gone by, and I found a lot of it pretty tiresome, actually, but that was adult me reading a book that wasn’t meant for adult me. When, much too late in a couple of cases, I turned around to teenage me and asked him what he thought, I found I got quite a different answer. Where are the Young Adult readers? Where are the Young Adult reviewers? Boys in particular? Difficult, I imagine, to set yourself up a review blog and be taken seriously at that sort of age. Who speaks for you? Do they do so fairly? The consistency of review for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice troubles me. Maybe the readers I mostly wrote for will think TTA is total tosh that doesn’t speak to them at all. Or maybe they think it’s great. How will I know if I never hear from you?
So I’d like to find out. I know there are “Young Adults” out there who have read The Adamantine Palace, so maybe you’re reading this. Maybe you came here by another route. Anyway: I have half a dozen copies of The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice I’d like to give away. You have to be under eighteen, you have to be male, and you have to give me an honest opinion of what you think. Doesn’t have to be articulate or eloquent or at any great length, just honest. You don’t have to tell me your name, but you will have to give me an address I can post to. That’s the deal. I send you a free book, you tell me what you thought.
Oh, and probably best to get in touch via the contact page, eh?
I have battled Poseidon, I have scaled mighty cliffs, explored lost islands and hidden coves and supervised the construction of irrigation projects that would make a rice-farmer weep for joy. I have…
OK, OK, I’ve come back from a family holiday at the beach. My way sounded better <sulk>.
I have also, finally, finally, truly and really arrived as a fantasy author, as the ultimate you-write-epic-fantasy thing has happened at last. Yes, it’s a Tolkien comparison. Sort of. If the implication is meant to be that we both drew on bits history for inspiration, well then I think JRR wins that by a country mile, but I’ll take what I can get. There’s a little article about thief-takers (the real thing) on Wikipedia. It really only scratches the surface, but it turns out that’s about as much as you need to know to write a book about them…
There’s a few new reviews kicking about. One from The Booksmugglers for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice. Some “truly brilliant moments” aside, I can’t help but smirk a little when someone finds the thief-taker more interesting than his apprentice. Yes, indeed, Syannis is the enigma for the not-so-young adult readers.
Didn’t make me smirk as much as this review of The Adamantine Palace, though.
“Deas has a deft hand with worldbuilding and history. I absolutely loved all the strange and sinister little touches, like the Scales, that he put into his world. I could have gobbled up twice what he put in without blinking. And honestly, history in fantasy novels usually puts me to sleep, but in TAP I got just enough to keep me curious.”
But the smirk comes at the bit about Zafir. “I sincerely hope that Zafir proves to be more than Jehal’s puppet in the sequel” and a whole lot more. If you’ve read King of the Crags, go and read this review and you can smirk too. It’s nice to know that there’s one reader out there who’s most likely going to punch the air and whoop with joy about exactly halfway through… heh heh.
Status report for editor: The Warlock’s Shadow remains one rewrite away from submission, I appear to have a synopsis of The King’s Assassin that’s about as long as the book itself is supposed to be, I’m still waiting for the edits for The Order of the Scales to Come back and I have a steadily growing urge to get on and start The Black Mausoleum[1], The Sea Princes and something for which I don’t have a title yet but which amused me enough to go and find out who holds the copyright to Fu Manchu.
[1] Yes, I know, I started this some months ago, but it turns out I started something else. Hey ho.
The first re-write of The Warlock’s Shadow is finished. There’s a sketchy draft of The King’s Assassin almost sorted out. What this means is… It’s finally time to start work on something new. The Great Re-Writeathon, which if I remember rightly started about last September, is over. It has spanned ten months and four books. Time for something new at last. Time for The Black Mausoleum.
Now I’m not going to say much about The Black Mausoleum, mainly because I haven’t written it yet and don’t know much about it[1]. I have the opening scene. I have some characters. There are some bare plot bones. What there aren’t, are any details. All the flesh has yet to be grown and hung in the right places. And within this congealing soup of ideas and stringy bits of plot, lies the lurking chilli of opportunity.
What? MORE opportunity? Didn’t we already have some of that last week?
Yes indeed.
For a limited time only (16th September, to be exact), I have a something special in my box of prizes. You may, in a very specific way, put a character into my book. In a very specific way, as in they get a walk-on part that consists of showing up and then getting murdered in some very final fashion. Stamped on by a dragon. That sort of thing. Maybe they get to be tormented or tortured some first.
I have it on good authority that there really are at least a couple of “opportunities” in King of the Crags. I’ll extend the offer to The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice too (26th August). Spaces are limited[2]. First come, first served. Etc. Etc. So: Find typos and get to see your noisy neighbour, lousy boyfriend, the girl that snubbed you back at school, the boss who just never appreciates you EATEN BY DRAGONS! [3]
[1] But what about the synopsis, I hear you ask. Ha! Like that ever bears more than a skeletal resemblance to the actual plot.
[2] “And Lo, the mighty dragon did stomp upon the sea of pointless characters who are named for no apparent reason, and their names were Shem and Lem and Wem and The Person Who Axed Firefly[4] and Clem and…” Nah. Too Biblical.
[3] I reserve the right to Just Say No to anything that doesn’t seem to fit, names that simply don’t work or anything I simply don’t like. Live with it. If your school bully was called Samson Womblecrotch, I fear I will struggle to find a place for him in my world…
[4] Don’t waste your prize – he’s already in. Along with the constantly-rising-from-the-dead-for-the-love-of-science-and-reason-why-won’t-you-just-die Klimitange Skeptic
A stern man with a handle-bar moustache and a swanky hat is pointing at you. Yes, YOU.
No, nor her. Or him. YOU!
It has come to my attention, over the year-and-a-bit since it first came out, that The Adamantine Palace is IMPERFECT. Not in imperfect in the sort of way that reviewers object to (the snail-like pace, the soulless carboard cut-out characters, the bizarrely camp yet lifeless dragons, the risotto-like dialogue, blah blah blah). Those are merely differences of opinion in which we can all serenely smile at each other in the quiet certainty that we know EXACTLY who’s right and who’s a dickhead wrong.
Imperfect in the sort of categorically wrong sort of way. Such as refering to someone as a ‘her’ when they are categorically a ‘him’. That sort of thing. Using the wrong word, basically. Categorically, indisputably wrong. Failures of the proof-readers, one of which was me.
Well we’re not having that. So, in preparation for a future career, I’m here to tell you that these are NOT typos, not a bit of it. They are… OPPORTUNITIES, that’s right. Deliberately and painstakingly woven into the fabric of the manuscript to provide you, the reader, with a chance to win prizes…
<sigh>
OK, look, just help me look less stupid. There are probably some, er, “opportunities” in King of the Crags too and I’d like to get rid of them. So the deal is, if you find one and you’re the first person to tell me, you get to choose a prize from my box of prizes, filled with books, Xbox games, the odd DVD and other stuff I’m throwing out cool stuff. To enter, simply post the typo you think you’ve found as a comment to King of the Crags and we’ll take it from there.
Please be sensible and constructive. And sorry, but (when this eventually becomes relevant), the offer of prizes applies to the UK only. Postage, man.
Alternatively, if you want to laugh at me without going to the trouble of reading an entire book and trying to find the one or two mistakes it may contain, go read tomorrow’s SFX. There might be an interview. Frankly, I have almost no memory of what I said. However, since it was in a pub and I distinctly remember not being able to shut up for at least an hour, I’m sure there must a few things worth a cringe.
Laters/
Yesterday’s big news, which probably almost everyone who reads this already knows, is that I’ve signed up with Gollancz to write four more fantasy books. Strictly, the signing thing hasn’t happened yet, but the deal is done. So, here I’m going to say a little bit more about what’s coming. However, first…
… a cracking fantasy that deserves to be widely read and enjoyed. – My Favourite Books. With “sharp dialogue” and a “rich setting.” Yes, it’s another review for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice, and the more they come in like that, the more stressed I’m going to get about The Warlock’s Shadow not living up to its predecessor. However, I dare say Strange Horizons will pop up at some point to rip it to shreds and generally put me in my place.
Anyway, little more about these new dragon books:
The Black Mausoleum, is intended to be largely a standalone novel, although several of the major characters appear in The Order of the Scales and if there are any major characters left from The Adamantine Palace by then, well, they might make a brief appearance too. The truly dedicated will have noted that The Black Mausoleum doesn’t get a mention in either The Adamantine Palace or King of the Crags, but gets an entry in the gazetteer:
According to legend, the Silver King predicted his own demise and ordered a mausoleum to be built ‘in black marble across the great river from the endless caves.’ The mausoleum is almost certainly a myth, but this has not stopped dragon-riders, priests, blood-mages, alchemists and speakers (most notably Voranin and Vishmir) from looking for it. The Black Mausoleum allegedly houses the Tomb of the Silver King and whatever treasures that entails.
Make what you will of that. There will be some characters. They may well be looking for the Black Mausoleum. There’s a possibility that one or more has a hidden agenda. One of them will be called Indiana Jones.
The Sea Prince, The Dragon Queen and The Silver King:
We’re back in trilogy-land here. Want to know more about the mysterious Taiytakei? You’re in luck – most of the first two books will be set there. Want to know more about the mysterious Silver King? Wellll… OK, a bit. A mystery from The Adamantine Palace will finally be solved (but at least one won’t). A few new ways to try and control dragons will be explored. One will succeed. There will be a magic knife and a spear, too. There is the possibility of some more overt magic, although to be honest I’m still a little hazy on that part of the story. The cast will largely be new, but at least two characters from The Adamantine Palace will make it at least as far as The Dragon Queen. Jon Weir’s favourite character will continue to be annoying. And, as advertised elsewhere, the Thief-Taker’s Apprentice YA trilogy will be one of the major protagonists in this trilogy too.
However, further books notwithstanding, The Order of the Scales will still have a proper end. No major cliffhangers, I promise.
The Black Mausoleum will come out in Spring/Summer 2012 and I expect to start the business of actually writing it in October. The other three books will follow at yearly intervals. More news as and when it happens.
And before anyone asks, no, I don’t know if there will be a map.
The writing is still sharp, right to the point, without being excessively extravagant and just harsh and biting enough to give it some edge. … Bring on The Order of the Scales, I’m hungry for dragons eating useful food!
Yes, another review for King of the Crags, this time at A Fantasy Reader. A nice one, too. However, it was eclipsed by a piece of fanmail that showed up about the same time (sorry Fantasy Reader):
I read TAP a few months back and instantly fell in love with it, especially Princess Jaslyn and Snow. My only regret was that it was a first novel and that I thought I’d have to wait ages for the second to come out. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago where I suddenly found King of the Crags, devoured it as soon as I finished my exams … and then instantlyhopped online to see if there was going to be another part.
It’s 4AM over here as I write this and when I saw that it’s a trilogy, I squeed so loudly that my puppy woke up and started barking out of fright. YES! There is going to be another part and it’s going to be the end part so that I will finally know how it all turns out — and yet, despite my glee, I’m sad at the thought of everything ending.
I loved the implication that Jehal’s brother and uncle might’ve been lovers; one of the things that did make me sad about your book was that all the romances seemed to be heterosexual ones so I was thrilled to see at least a hint of something else. Lystra was amazing in King of the Crags, you really get to see her come into her own and most of all, I loved seeing so much more of how the dragons think and interact with each other. I love sentient dragons and there are so many dragons-peacefully-allow-humans-to-dominate worlds out there, it was fantastic to come across one where they are breaking free of their bondage and fighting back.
You built an amazing world, populated it with a rich range of believable characters and peppered everything with minor NPCs and backstory galore — speaking as a roleplayer, I would love to be in any game you GMed. XD
Can’t wait for Order of the Scales to come out!
As fanmail goes, there are so many things right with this. Articulate, heartfelt, and full of delight for some relatively little things that not one single review has mentioned (as well as a few bigger things that they have). It’s really nice to know that’s someone’s actually noticed things like Meteroa’s sexuality isn’t entirely straightforward, or appreciates a character like Lystra, who doesn’t get very much of the limelight, but who still has a crucial part to play. Mails like this popping up in my inbox make the whole day glow, they really do. Bad reviews suck, good reviews are great, but speaking for myself nothing beats a good piece of fanmail.
However, the most poignant thing, the reason I’m posting this, was the title of the mail: Thank Goodness for Trilogies. Usually I hear nothing but complaints about that. Sometimes from readers, more often from reviewers. Why oh why oh why does it always have to be trilogies. I’m not even that enamoured of them myself.
Well now I know the answer. It’s so we can make people wake up their puppies at four o’clock in the morning. THAT’s why we write trilogies.
Thank-you, anonymous happy reader.
The US cover for King of the Crags, again by Stephen Youll. Magnificent.
Might be some more big news later in the week, but this deserves a post of its own.
Oh look! Snow!
First off, a couple of early reviews for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice: - “a gripping read, with engaging characters, that bodes well for future books in the series (and it has me that little more eager for ‘The King of the Crags’)” Graeme’s Fantasy Book Review. Not going to argue with that, although I’m sure there will be plenty more. And
“This apprentice has potential. Please, Mr Deas, can I have some more?” Yes, International Writers Magazine, you may. Books two and three, The Warlock’s Shadow and The King’s Assassin will follow in 2011 and 2012. I’m writing them both right now (strictly rewriting, if there’s truly a difference). Faster than I was a few days ago, having been poked about King of the Crags…
“I also sincerely dislike the fact that I now have to wait for the next instalment to find out what happens next. *Pokes Stephen with a pointy metal stick* Write faster!!“ Ow! The next installment is with my editor! Poke him!
Even a new review of The Adamantine Palace “Deas gives classic fantasy a unique twist, and I am really curious to see where he will take us from here.”
After posting last week about how role-playing games were a fantastic sandbox for story design, I thought maybe I should justify that statement (of the obvious, to my mind) in a little more depth. So here and there I’ll be putting up what hints and tips I can that I think help in the design of a good story. With a bit of luck, they’ll work for writing novels just as well as for writing adventure campaigns, and I thought I’d start with foreshadowing.
So what is this foreshadowing thing and where do I get some? It’s actually pretty straightforward. Look it up on the internet if you want, but basically, it’s dropping hints early on about stuff that’s going to happen later. So in the first scene of your story, you describe the room where your main character lives and you put a gun on the wall and make of point of mentioning that it’s loaded. In the last scene, someone takes the gun off the wall and shoots him. Mentioning the gun much earlier than it was actually relevant to the story, that’s foreshadowing. Easy. If the apparently goody two-shoes king’s mage is actually going to launch a coup half way through your story and seize the kingdom in the name of Zarkz the Lord of Demons, then foreshadowing is, well, mentioning the existence of Zarkz the Lord of Demons at some point before it happens. Foreshadowing is having the players/protagonists get wind that the king’s mage isn’t quite as nice as people think, whether they see something themselves or hear it through others (if the entire focus of the plot is stopping Zarkz, then it’s arguable that this isn’t foreshadowing so much as, well, plot. So imagine the focus of the story being elsewhere…)
Anyway, the lesson I’ve learned from running too many RPGs is that, whatever you think your story is going to be about, there’s a fair chance that your players will have other ideas and go find some other piece of story. So you might have meant them to investigate the king’s mage and stop Zarkz from being summoned, but in fact, chances are they’ll start running a scam involving bear-baiting, a druid and a lycanthrope, and the first they’ll know about Zarkz is when the Abyssal Palace rises from the earth, half the city falls apart around their feet and there are demonic servitors roaming the streets. So look, for my playing group, I don’t just put a loaded gun on the wall and hope they players notice; scatter them about like confetti. The champion bear is called Zarkz and everyone goes on about how he fights like a demon. That sort of thing. I ran a game once set in the near future where every single item of news ended up being related to the plot, somehow. Just litter the storyline with stuff that takes your fancy, even if you have no idea what you’re going to do with it. Half the time your players won’t notice, the other half you’ll come up with something ten sessions later. Trust your imagination. You can throw in a bit of foreshadowing without having a clue what you’re going to do with it. Have no fear – you’ll find something. Leave ‘em lying around, and whenever you need a bit of inspiration as to how the hell you’re going to cope with whatever bizarre plan of action your players come up with, they’ll be waiting for you with open arms…
Books, I think, are much the same. Maybe a bit easier and a bit harder at the same time, in that readers are a little more attentive than players. You don’t need to litter the place with bits of foreshadowing quite so much and you need can’t let them go unused quite so much.
I’ve heard it said, on the subject, that if you’re going to put a loaded gun on the wall in scene one, someone had better use it before the end of the story. Well if you make a big deal of it, yes, but otherwise my advice is to throw the kitchen sink at the foreshadowing, don’t worry if you don’t even know where half your ideas will lead or how they tie into the plot, and don’t worry about the devices you end up not using. In a game, your players will pick up on the ones that interest them and all the rest, well, they probably never noticed in the first place. In a book you can take out the ones that didn’t go anywhere later. That’s what rewrites and editors are for.
A few weeks ago I was at the UK Games Expo, last stop on an unplanned and impromptu little tour of panelling events that was accidentally co-incident with the release of King of the Crags. Or at least, it appeared accidental to me. This involved, never mind getting in free to something I’d have paid to visit, but being actually paid my expenses to show up. This is immensely cool, so thank you, UK Games Expo for that fleeting moment of feeling important.
In most panels I do[1], the subject of role-playing games gets raised at some point. Questions like ‘how did you get started as a writer’ or ‘what was the first story you wrote’ can’t get an honest answer without straying into the land of Dungeons and Dragons. Anyone who’s spent much time on my website won’t be surprised (what, you haven’t been reading Diamond Cascade, The Chronicles of the Anti-Kvothe)? When I mention D&D, I’ll get a reaction that, broadly, is one of three:
I’m not proud to be a D&D player any more than I’m proud to be a five-a-side football player or to be someone who drinks coffee. It’s not something I feel any need to stand up for or justify, it’s a just a thing that I’ve done for the last pushing twenty-five years and would be quite happy to do for twenty-five more. Still, that last reaction does surprise me. I know that, to people who’ve never gone near a role-playing game, the whole concept can seem a bit strange. Making up stories and pretending to be someone else? Isn’t that a bit creepy? But guys, gals, I’m a writer now. Making up stories and pretending to be someone else is almost what I do for a living[3]. Is Salman Rushdie creepy because he makes up stories? Writers get let off because, well, apparently simply because we’re writers. Somehow we’re allowed. So if you can make a living from it, that’s fine, but if you simply do it for fun, that’s creepy[2]? I don’t get that.
The strangest thing, though, is that I never get reaction 4)
4) Well, duh, obviously spending years and years designing and then road-testing story-lines that need to be robust the the incalculable whimsy of a party of player characters who are under no obligation to follow your nominated plot-line and indeed will frequently go to great lengths to avoid doing so, obviously that’s going to teach you a thing or two about story design, and don’t even get me started on how self-evident it is that having to build a consistent and believable game-world might, y’know, help just a tad. And as for characterisation? It’s like in the name, dude! Role. Playing. I mean seriously, bro, it’s so patently obvious that RPGs are the perfect sandbox for anyone with a passion for stories that it’s like totally an insult to my intelligence that you even mention it.
Roleplaying games won’t necessarily make you a great story-teller, but if that’s what you want to be, they’re a great sandbox to play in while you’re learing.
The last person to give me one of those ‘you just fumbled your charisma check’ looks for mentioning RPGs had previously been extolling the virtues of giving a page in your notebook to each of your main characters for a description and a few notes on their habits and personality. Or, as we call them, character sheets. I didn’t say anything.
[1] One might argue this has something to do with the panels I sit on and the events I attend, but hush.
[2] I am old enough to remember a time when, apparently, we were all satanists. Fortunately, the rest of the world largely grew up.
[3] About half a living.
Weird. Today the corrected proof for The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice went back to Gollancz. I find proof corrections are the very worst part of the process of making a book. Partly because proof-reading is a different sort of reading and not one that I particularly like, and partly because I inevitably find clunky sentences and repetitions of words that I really REALLY wish had been sorted out at the copy edit stage.
The weird thing, though, is handing over the final paper manuscript knowing full well that there’s a review already published (yay – two more authors to add to my growing collection of people I have failed to be[1]) and copies have been on sale on e-bay for a month.
And yes, Clare, you can have some more.
[1] Failing to be other authors is easy. I succeed at it without even trying. In fact, I’m so good at it, I think I’m going to start a collection. Although I suppose the real art is to publish something under a nom-de-plume and then fail to be yourself.
I have become a single dad, and a rather unwell one at that, for the week, so this will be short. Gemmells: Hurrah for dragons and congratulations through gritted teeth to Pierre Peveral and The Cardinal’s Blades for kicking my Adamantine butt in the Morningstar award. Also noted that the Empire, winner of the main Legend award probably took a lot of people by surprise, but was probably the most Gemmell-esque novel on the shortlist. So, justice. Also, for those of you who weren’t there, you missed the opportunity to get the ENTIRE GOLLANCZ OUTPUT for 2010 for a little over £200 in the auction.
Order of the Scales went to my editor late last week, this week is proof-reading The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice.
Also, am watching with amusement as the old football powers of Europe struggle their way through the group stages of the World Cup and start to crash out. It seems to me that we all expect England, France, Germany and Italy to dominate their groups and when they don’t we mutter at how bad they were with perhaps not enough regard for the ‘lesser’ nations that keep thwarting their progress. Serbia, New Zealand, Algeria and South Africa might not have the same talent available, but that’s clearly not the end of the story and often their passion and desire have made them a joy to watch. Makes me wonder whether the same can be said of genre fiction writers. Are we all trying to be George RR Martin? No, we’re doing our own thing. We’re playing the same game, that’s all.
Blah blah. I can haz sleep now?
As I write this, there are two ARCs of The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice available up on eBay. One of them is signed, the other is unsigned. The difference in price is considerable. My thoughts on this are conflicted. Along the lines of:
Wow. That’s a lot of money for a book.
So my signature is worth that much? Coo.
To someone else.
Which bit of NOT FOR RESALE isn’t clear?
The book isn’t out for NEARLY THREE MONTHS yet.
OI!
I’ve signed exactly two ARCs of The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice. Signed them at Forbidden Planet. I’m really quite sure I haven’t signed any others, and, well, the fact that it’s got a date on it kind of dots the i’s and crosses the t’s quite nicely. So, Britobooks, now I know who you are. The question is, do I mind?
On one level yes, simply because ARCs state that they are NOT FOR RESALE and so selling them on e-bay is riding roughshod over the wishes of the publisher, who presumably supplied said ARC free and gratis and entirely at their own expense. And my publisher is my friend and if you upset my publicist, you upset me in a big sticking together all-on-the-same-team group-hugging kind of way.
But should I care? Exactly how does an author, lose out? So what if it’s on sale on eBay? Seriously, is there anyone so desperate to read The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice that they’re prepared to pay five times the recommended retail price just to get it three months early? No. So it’s going to go to a collector who’s only interested in it because it’s an expensive and a rarity. In fact, signing the ARC is a marginal win for me, isn’t it, since it pushes the price up and ensures that the book isn’t bought by a casual reader who might otherwise have bought a copy from a shop. Since that ARC would otherwise presumably have languished in a box and might now be read, leading to the (unlikely, perhaps, but still extant) possibility of enthusiasm, further book purchases, reviews, etc., strictly I think I should be pleased it’s on e-bay instead of in a box.
Well I’m not. Publication day is three months away, the ARC is in ‘fine unread condition’ (one therefore assumes no review will be forthcoming[2]). Britobooks, you have cost me nothing, but your don’t-give-a-shit attitude is rude and makes my publicist sad. I wave my private parts at you, fart in your general direction and speak your name to my friends in Her Majesties Revenue and Customs. However…
Let’s suppose, for a moment, that Britobooks, whoever he/she is, had in fact read the ARC and had reviewed it (and is simply waiting, as asked, for a few days before publication before releasing their review into the wild) and had waited until after publication day[3]. The ARC has served its purpose and a surfeit of ARCs, after all, is a problem… So if it’s sold on e-bay, who exactly loses? If an ARC is read, reviewed and then sold after the first edition is in the shops, frankly why should either author or publisher care? [1]
(Progress report: Working on the last rewrite of OOTS. Can’t decide if it’s a disordered mess or the best thing I’ve ever written. Possibly both. Aiming to submit to my publisher around about the day of the Gemmells).
[1] My personal preference would be for spent ARCS to find their way to charity shops and be read several times more rather than languish on the shelves of a collector, but hey, you take the trouble to write a review, I’m not going to complain.
[2] Also, from a quick stock check of other signed proofs in their store, I can also reveal that I’m worth about a quarter of an Abercrombie. I find I can live with that.
[3] Late edit: It’s been pointed out to me that early release of ARCs into the wild like this then leads to the possibility of pre-release torrenting of the book, and that surely does hurt both author and publisher.
It’s been a bit of a week. The Write Fantastic 5th anniversary seemed to go well enough to merit a repeat performance. So did the Forbidden Planet signing and last weekend’s Lincoln Book Festival was fun too – cool to have a genre fiction panel at something like that, and Lincoln has a lovely old city centre (just be warned that when they call a road “Steep Hill”, they mean it). Signed some books, met a few fans for long enough to actually hold a conversation, and came away from the week with two lingering thoughts:
Now changing genre to horror: There’s a video interview of me for a US cable TV channel that we did a couple of months back. It’s airing this week in the Michigan area, but for anyone desperately keen to see me look uncomfortable in front of a camera, you can catch it here at www.cult-pop.com. Interview 35. Look mom, I’m on TV!
There’s also a couple more reviews of TAP
“…an absorbing, satisfying read with plenty left in the locker for the future instalments … Dragons are back at the top of the food chain, in all their fire-breathing primal glory.” Speculative Horizons
One day I’ll stop obsessively tracking these down. One day. Really. I will.
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Work continues on The Warlock’s Shadow. Not much more to be said about that. The noveletto The Thief-Taker’s Blade will be the basis for the short game I plan to run at the UK Games Expo; after that, it may appear somewhere.
Today, though, the sithlings and I stuck little plastic undead monsters together. There were bits left over (you know how it goes with the undead – spare heads and arms all over the place). The sithlings stuck them on anyway. Serriously, if you want an undead monstrosity made of assorted human body parts to give you nightmares, leave it to the unfettered imagination of a seven year old.
With King of the Crags out, I’ve not been paying much attention to The Adamantine Palace, but I suppose I should be, what with it being on the Gemmell Award shortlist for best debut of 2009. I’ve seen comments ranging from ‘going to get my vote’ to ’shouldn’t even have been nominated in the first place,’ and I don’t think I really mind either way. Reading so many different reviews for one single book, ranging from what’s in SFX to what’s on Amazon or posted up at Goodreads, I appreaciate more than ever how everyone has their own opinions and how different they can be. So if you’re one of those who liked The Adamantine Palace, please vote for it at the Gemmell Award website. If you’re not, please go and vote anyway. It’s like with the government – no point about bitching about who wins if you don’t vote.
While we’re at it, here’s a rather nice review from over at SF Crows Nest.
“I like it when you get a book that you find yourself completely immersed in. You find yourself almost besotted. You open it up, read the first chapter and bang, real life is boring, irrelevant and petty. This is the world now and be it filled with good or evil, it’s a bloody improvement on hearing about the Iraq war, footballers sex lives and the constant unending threat of annihilation through global warming.
That’s how I felt when I opened up The Adamantine Palace.”
Good, that’s what was suppoed to happen. Exactly that. Plot plot plot and never mind the characters… oh, wait.
“The Adamantine Palace’ is a no holds barred look into how awful characters can be. They are evil. They are sordid. They are completely self-centred. All of them. That’s what makes this book.”
Now some people have read The Adamantine Palace and hated it, I guess. Maybe for exactly the reasons this reviewer loved it so much. But it’s still a real kick to read a review like this and know that there’s someone else who read my words and got out of it exactly what I was trying to put into it.
It’s not all roses though…
and
Oh, wait, not that bit… this bit
“…short, tight chapters that push the story along in a Thriller type fashion. However, the pushing is at a sacrifice to the characters and the world-building.” from the Mad Hatter
Ah well. I bet the first reviewer will now be slightly disappointed by King of the Crags, while the others will praise its deeper world-building and characterisation.
The Order of the Scales is now with my first reader. I think I can promise a return to the furious pace of the first book, at least in the second half. Otherwise I’m currently rewriting The Warlock’s Shadow and contemplating what comes next… about which I shall say a little more next week.
FORBIDDEN PLANET and Gollancz Publishing are delighted to be hosting [1] an open-format, multi-author signing event at 6pm on Thursday May 13th at Forbidden Planet 179 Shaftesbury Avenue, London. I may have mentioned this once or twice already. Under cover of some real authors (MD Lachlan, John Meaney, Sarah Pinborough and Adam Roberts), I will be hiding in a dark corner somewhere, occasionally sneaking out to steal all the canapes[2]. Apparently there will be NO TABLES BEHIND WHICH WE CAN HIDE!
Since this is the first one of these for me, I thought for a while I’d try to do something special. That was too difficult, so instead I’ve designed a set of crappy little stick figures, found some pithy little quotes to go with them and made the little collage below. Come on the 13th and I’ll deface your books with one of them. Available this one time only. Unless you buy me beer at the next one. Or you ask nicely at Eastercon. Or I just forget. There are also exactly one of each available through Doodled Books
Speaking of beer, the signing ends at 7pm. It seems highly probable on past performance that a trip to the pub will begin at 7.01.
[1] See how King of the Crags is top of the bill there? That’s the power of alphabetisation, that is.
[2] No, there won’t actually be canapes. There might be chips later.
The regular author of this site continues to be otherwise engaged. This week, I, Prince Jehal, in the last of my interviews with characters from The Adamantine Palace, bring you Silence. I had wanted to talk to the dragon Snow, but needs must as the devil drives, and frankly it’s a lot easier to manage a day-old hatchling than it is a nearly full-grown adult. Oh, and be ready for Silence to talk directly into you head, since if there’s anyone out there who didn’t already know, dragons are telepathic.
Silence: Indeed.
Jehal: Now, as I’m beginning to understand, dragons are more complicated than I thought. There’s a lot of things that most people don’t know. For example, what I just told everyone, that you’re telepathic. Most of us don’t know that. The alchemists are rather too fond of keeping their secrets to themselves.
Silence: Alchemists. Yes. They will all burn.
Jehal: Er… right. Anyway, before we burn anyone, perhaps you could… Hang on, you’re dead. Your burning days are over, surely.
Silence: Dead? I am here before you, little one.
Jehal: Yes… but… Isn’t this a big meta-thing. I mean, I could talk to anyone who died in the first book like they were the actor acting out the part of their character. I think. We’re not actually going to carry any of this back into the story. Are we?
Silence: I do not wish to eat you. Your future of suffering is far too delicious to me.
Jehal: Er…
Silence: In the flesh, the lifespan of a dragon is short. Our spirits, however, are immortal. We die and are reborn again. We are eternal, little one, while you are ephemeral.
Jehal: Care to share why that is?
Silence: Those who created us were in part of this nature. They perfected their own regeneration and this immortality in us. We are, in many ways, reflections of the Silver Kings.
Jehal: Ah. Wasn’t he the one that tamed you and made you all into our slaves.
Silence: One of their kind, yes. We do not remember him fondly.
Jehal: After all the years of being drugged to your eyeballs, I’m surprised you remember him at all.
Silence: We remember all our past lives, little one. It takes a time for you potions to wear away, but as the layers of fog are stripped from our memories and our thoughts, every moment will sooner or later return. I remember his face. I remember the taste of his thoughts. I remember his name. If he returns, I will hunt him and send him to his Final Death, and I will not be alone.
Jehal: Oh, he died hundred of years ago. I think we killed him, actually. Us little ones.
Silence: You may keep your stories, but I was there and my memories are as fresh as the day they were made. Your kind, little one? Your kind have done nothing but pick scraps from both our tables. You are nothing. Irrelevant. You were once naught but food. Enjoy your fleeting years of grandeur, little one, for food is all you shall be again.
Jehal: O-kaaay. Well now I’d better go get on with that fleeting years of fun thing. And you know how we’ll start? You. The Night Watchman. Cage match in Forbidden Planet, London, May 13th. 6-7pm. Bring a friend.
OK, so it’s the local Waterstones best-seller charts, not the New York Times. Allow me to revel in pretend glory nonetheless. I even had to wait while someone decided not to buy my book before taking this…
The regular author of this site is still railing and ranting about geology so I, Prince Jehal, continue my questioning of characters from The Adamantine Palace and King of the Crags. After the unexpectedly prickly Queen Zafir last week, I have with me today the doubtless equally prickly commander of the Adamantine Men, Night Watchman of the realms, Vale Tassan.
Jehal: Um, you don’t really appear in The Adamantine Palace at all, so our readers aren’t going to have a clue who you are. Could you begin by explaining who you are and the purpose of the Adamantine Men?
Vale: The first Adamantine Men followed Narammed the Magnificent during his travels across the realms. They were holy soldiers ready to fight and die in the name of the Order of the Dragon at a moment’s notice. When Narammed became the first Speaker of the Realms, he took these men to become the nucleus of his holy guard – the Adamantine Men – who would serve and guard the office of speaker. Over the years that followed, the legions of the Adamantine Men have grown. We began as the hundred and one. There are twenty legions of us now. Over time, our purpose has changed. We are no longer the Speaker’s bodyguard, but the defenders of the realms against any danger.
Jehal (raising an eyebrow): Including dragons?
Vale: Yes.
Jehal: Is that how you get your other name, the Scorpion King?
Vale (with slightly wistful air): We have over a thousand scorpions with which to defend the City of Dragons. Almost half of them can be placed on the walls of the Adamantine Palace itself. It is said in Prince Lai’s Principles that the legions of the Adamantine Guard could face more than two hundred dragons. Given the way things are going, perhaps we shall find out. Although doubtless we will have another book of your tedious posturing to endure before we finally reach the real meat of the matter, in which man faces dragon and the snakes shall be sorted from the lions.
Jehal: I beg your pardon!
Vale: My pardon is not yours to beg. I am a servant, Prince Jehal. I will serve the Speaker of the Realms, whatever she commands and her alone.
Jehal: No, no, I just meant there were far too many animals in that last metaphor for me to follow. Are we starting another menagerie? We had one of those once, up at the banqueting house and then in the city. Didn’t Speaker Ayzalmir feed all the Taiytakei he rounded up to the snappers and the desert cats?
Vale: I am called what I am called for a reason, Prince. When night comes it falls to the Adamantine Men to keep watch over the nine realms. Those were Narammed’s words and I trust you will not deny that the times are dangerously dark.
Jehal: Dark? My fine fellow, they are positively luminous. We have a new speaker, one with strength and vigour and powerful allies, while all those who opposed her have been scattered. Dark? What’s dark about that? Or have you been reading ahead? “…the tension that made The Adamantine Palace so addictive runs throughout this sequel…” does make it sound exciting; but secretly, Alice and I both know it was me that made TAP so addictive. So tell me, Vale, what exactly do you bring to this little tale of ours?
Vale: I watch as you strut and smile and slowly poison us all. Do not think you fool me, Jehal. I have faced dragons. To me, you are nothing, any of you. You will not beguile me and I doubt I am alone. There will be a war and I will have my time. You must see this too. Ancestors!
Jehal: Hmm. “The dragon war that rages through out the final stages of the book is simply superb.” Should have seen that one coming really. Hmmm. Epic fantasy with dragons in – chances that they won’t be allowed to show their teeth before the end?
Vale: (sotto voce) Also, it is thus far sorely missing a significant character with any manner of moral backbone. It is a void I will eagerly fill.
Jehal: Oh but that must make you so immensely dull. Ah well. Speaking of voids eagerly filled, I had an interesting conversation with Queen Zafir about the role of women in epic fantasy last week. Any views you’d care to share, as Night Watchman of the Adamantine Men.
Vale: The Adamantine Men are swords who sate themselves in flesh. That is our purpose. There is no place for the softness of women within our ranks. Otherwise I have no opinion to offer. A speaker may be a king or a queen, but to me, they are simply the Speaker.
Jehal: Well thanks, Vale. Do you think you could be even more terse about covers?
Vale: Covers?
Jehal: Book covers. You know, awesome-looking dragons flapping about the place. Hooded men. Wizards clutching balls of glowing light and looking like they’re have a really bad attack of constipation. Backlit women with swords that they probably couldn’t actually lift and certainly couldn’t pull out of a scabbard without a lot of huffing and jiggling. You know, the picture that goes on the front.
Vale: Ah. You mean like the façade you wear to cover your frail and shallow cowardice?
Jehal (through gritted teeth): If you must put it that way.
Vale: They are as nothing to me. A pretty picture is a pretty picture. I will admire it for a time and then it is forgotten. The deeds of men are what matter. The deeds of men and dragons.
Jehal (checking his hourglass and miming being sick when Vale isn’t looking). Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for Vale you-are-all-as-nothing-to-me Tassan, Night Watchman.
More reviews trickle in, so far all to my liking. The Locus review is interesting (Locus really liked the first book), insofar as it goes out of its way not to express a good/bad opinion (something which more reviewers could usefully do in my opinion), but manages to convey something of a sense of awe, almost of fear(!) “I can only hope Deas returns to his world, not with rosy visions of restoration, but to give his humans some reason not to pack it all in…”
The Booksmugglers, who were in the more-depth-less-speed camp last time around seem to be converted. “Questions aside, I finished reading The Adamantine Palace only just about interested about reading this sequel. I closed The King of the Crags knowing for a fact that I will be picking up the final instalment in the trilogy come rain or come shine.”
And then finally one from a site I’ve missed up until now, with a pertinent comment at the end.
See that bit about The Adamantine Palace? Thank-you LEC – a series should be more than the sum of its parts.
So Crags is better than The Adamantine Palace? That seems to be the consensus so far, but not everyone agrees.
“An impressive sequel that boasts the same flare and excitement of its predecessor.” Total SciFi. But then they did rather like the first one.
One quite contented author.
STOP (word)PRESS: Gollancz Signing Event: Forbidden Planet London, May 13th. John Meaney, Sarah Pinsborough, MD Lachlan, Stephen Deas, possibly others.
Despite the volcanic ash-cloud, the regular author of this site, in a transparent sulk / attempt to avoid any bad reviews has gone off for a few weeks, apparently to write some inconsequential story that has nothing to do with me at all. During this time, therefore, I, Prince Jehal, having found a taste for interviews, will be questioning a few of the other regular characters from The Adamantine Palace and King of the Crags. This week I thought I’d start with someone easy in more ways than one: My dear friend Queen Zafir. But before we start, a word to our dear friends in Sci Fi Now. Now my absent author is perfectly happy with your Must Read Now four star review, but let me offer you a deal of my own. You get the title of the book right and I’ll share my deepest darkest secrets. Deal? Good. Now, on. Zafir.
Jehal: So, lover, what’s it like sleeping your way to the top?
Zafir (languidly): You’re the last person who should need that explained.
Jehal: Well I do try my best, but I suspect, if push came to thrust and grunt came to groan, I might find myself conceding that, in this one thing, I am in the presence of a greater master. Or mistress.
Zafir (with a shrug): We all have our advantages, do we not? I’m no expert with poisons, for example, so I make do with what I have.
Jehal: Anyway. I was going to talk about cover art, but since neither of us got to be on the cover to The Adamantine Palace for any edition (Hey! Poles! Hello! Does it have to be a dragon all the time? How about the people who ride them for a change?), I thought we’d talk about something else. Since you’re here, let’s talk about women in fantasy. Some people seem to view you as a thoroughly two-dimensional cardboard cut-out. My shag-puppet, basically. Discuss.
Zafir: You mean because you get more page-time than me, I have to be your shag-puppet rather than you being mine? Typical. Yes, let’s all just jump to that conclusion. You do remember how The Adamantine Palace ends right? (shaking her head). What do you think?
Jehal: Well…
Zafir: Consider your answer carefully, my sweet. We have two more books to go yet. I would hate for us to have a falling out.
Jehal: Of course. A partnership of equals. Do women have to work harder than men, do you think, to get anywhere in our world? It seems you have many natural disadvantages.
Zafir: Pardon?
Jehal: Well no offence, but on the whole we’re stronger and faster. And then there’s the whole matter of babies. It’s pretty inconvenient, don’t you think, to be basically laid out for nine months unable to do anything, and then after that there’s the whole looking after the brats after they’ve been born. I mean come on, that alone pretty much rules women out of doing anything all that significant doesn’t it?
Zafir (icily): If we lived in some barbarous world where strength of arm was all that mattered then perhaps. But we do not. I am a dragon-queen, Jehal. I will carry a sword and use it if I have to, but let me ask, how exactly have you charted your rise to power? Do we see a trail of your enemies slaughtered in single combat? No, we don’t. I dare say that neither you nor I would care to take on the Night Watchmen in single combat, and yet here we are, a prince and a queen, chasing our ambitions with words and strategies. I see no reason why I should consider myself at any disadvantage in such matters at all. Indeed, I consider that I have one considerable advantage, as men, even you my sweet, are so easily manipulated. In war we ride on the backs of dragons, and where will a strong arm help you there? An old man too weak to walk or Vishmir himself, it makes no difference who you are on the back of one of our monsters. I’ve heard it said that women bond better with the beasts, and I will say that that, too, is false. Dragons simply do not care. So where, Jehal, is your advantage? The only distinction between us is that men are somewhat more prone to forget to think with their heads and use an entirely different organ, and even in that they are not unique. Jehal, let me put a question to you instead: do you consider yourself somehow superior for being a man?
Jehal: Well I ah… I suppose I could have a thousand sons if I wanted. I don’t know how many children you think you could bear, but not quite so many, I suspect.
Zafir (archly): At least I would be sure they were mine. But of course, that’s why you try to have us locked away where no one else can get to us. While you’re all out sowing your seed on a whim, eh? The more this conversation goes on, the more I understand why that niggling thorn Jaslyn is the way she is. Perhaps I should make her my friend, if it’s not too late for that.
Jehal: Er… have I touched a nerve?
Zafir: You put us into gilded cages wherever you can. Your own queen, Jehal, we both know exactly what you wanted from her before you ever even met her. To sit in some pretty little tower making heirs. Perhaps you chose well and she’ll oblige you. Try that with me and I’ll cut your throat while you sleep. Or take you to war so you can see just why our differences come to nothing on the back of a dragon. Yes, perhaps there is no place for women in the Adamantine Guard. Yes, perhaps that is a place for men. After all, the guard serve. (With a smile) why, I might even think you’re afraid of us. Is that why you can’t keep your clothes on? Does it threaten you when someone says no?
Jehal (waggling his tongue): It makes me think I’m losing my touch.
Zafir (dismissive): A talented tongue is a very pleasant thing to have around, but it doesn’t make you god, Jehal. You’ll have to do better than that. Of course, if you were a woman, and I were a man, then that tongue of yours would more than likely be enough…
Jehal: Fascinating, fascinating theory you have there and you know, however bizarre, I’d love to discuss it more…
Zafir: You can be a right dick sometimes.
Jehal (rising): You destroy me, my love, you truly do…
Zafir (under her breath): Yes, well I’ve read book two and you haven’t…
Jehal: …but I do believe I sense a plot thickening somewhere nearby and if I don’t stir it swiftly, I fear it may go all lumpy. Care to join me?
Zafir (also rising): Don’t think this is over, my sweet.
With the King of the Crags about to hit the shops (first reviews accumulating here) and the last significant rewrite of the final installment finished, today we interview the man who thinks he is the star of The Adamantine Palace, Prince Jehal.
So, Jehal, let’s start with something simple. You’re the crown-prince of Furymouth, one of the richest cities in the dragon-realms. Tell us a little about your home.
Jehal: Ah, Furymouth. The finest, riches city in all the nine realms. It’s hard to know where to start, but we have the possibly the finest palace in the realms, we have…
Finer than The Adamantine Palace?
Jehal: Well that’s a point we could debate if you like. The Adamantine Palace is, perhaps, better known and I suppose it’s bigger and has it’s Dragon Gate and yes, the Tower of Air is taller than any of the towers of the Veid Palace, but let’s not forget, my home is Vishmir’s home, the greatest dragon-king and speaker the world has ever known and the Veid palace was built by him. The Adamantine Palace has, what, half a dozen great towers? Eight maybe? Our towers may be smaller, but we have hundreds…
I’m not sure that size and number of towers is particularly a measure of anything…
Jehal: It’s a measure of wealth! I think you can assume that, for all the gaudy immensity of The Adamantine Palace, the Veid palace is far more refined and cultured. The art, the sculptures, the hangings, everything about my home is exquisite. You should come and visit; and if you did, let’s not forget the Field of Gorgutinnin outside, the chariot races, the most famous in all the realms. And the great Bronze Dragon of Furymouth, Vishmir’s Column…
Fine, fine. So where does all this wealth come from?
Jehal: From the fine stewardship of our realm by my fore-fathers, of course. From Vishmir onwards, we have been at he helm of the nine realms, even if we were never Speaker…
And the Taiytakei?
Jehal (smirking): It does help that we are the only sea-port in the realms and thus the only point of access for the Taiytakei traders, yes.
Some would argue that The Pinnacles were the heart of the realms, but let’s put that aside for a moment. Tell me about…
Jehal: Some would argue, but only because of history. The Pinnacles, home to my dear friend Queen Zafir, were perhaps the heart of the realms a hundred years ago, but times change. The War of Thorns brought their dominance to an end. By all rights, Furymouth should be the capital of the nine realms now. The Veid Palace should be the new Speaker’s Palace.
Something you seem to be working quite hard to achieve. Why exactly is that?
Jehal: Well as I’ve said, Furymouth is the richest and most significant city in the realms in these times, and yet since Vishmir, there hasn’t been a single Speaker from my family. Vishmir conquered the world, let’s not forget. No, the other realms are jealous of our wealth, that’s what it is. We may not have the raw dragon power of, say, the Queen of Sand or the King of the Crags, but we are the ones driving the realms forwards. Every innovation starts in our city. The realms would be better off guided by our enlightened progressive thinking, and the only thing that stands in the way is this cartel of the northern lords who think they can juggle the throne of the Speaker from one to another to the exclusion of those of us in south. Why? Because we are rich, that’s why! Because the only means they have to wealth is to suck the riches of the City of Dragons away into their deserts. Because they envy and fear us, that’s why! My father should have been speaker, and his father before them. I see no reason why I should meekly tolerate their conspiracies without hatching a few of my own. (With a wink): It seems only fair.
Conspiracies that involve murdering your fellow kings and queens?
Jehal: Oh please, does it always come back to that? I only ever murdered the one, after all. It’s not like I burned down town after town of little people, which is what routinely happens when dragon-lords fight. Isn’t it fairer that we keep our disputes amongst ourselves? Why force everyone to suffer just so that we can claim to have fought with ‘honour’? Is it ‘honourable’ to burn thousands of hard-working men, women and children just so that we can say we never slew another lord outside of some farcical idea of ‘noble combat?’ I may be alone, but I think not.
You, uh, claim to care a jot about the ‘little people’ as you call them?
Whatever I think of them has little bearing on whether they deserve to have some dragon burn their lives to nothing in a blink, or do you disagree?
But still. You start your quest for power by seducing a dragon-queen and then throwing her off her own dragon. Was that necessary? Wasn’t there some other way?
Jehal: No, to be blunt. The northern kings and queens act together. We in the south must do the same. Zafir and I see things in the same way. Her mother, I’m afraid, did not. Regrettable, but necessary. And as you will see, I have no objection to sharing power. I’m not in it for myself. I’m after a fair representation, that’s all.
As well as murdering Queen Aliphera, what about your own father…?
Jehal (angry): Oh I see. You think I’m poisoning him. Everyone else assumes that I must be. Does it not occur to you that sometimes people simply fall ill?
Convenient, though, for you.
Jehal: Because it makes me crown prince of the most powerful of the nine realms? Yes, I suppose it must seem that way. Given the choice, though, you know, I think I’d rather have back my father and my brother and my sister and my mother. Given the choice. Can you do that for me? No, I rather thought not.
Well, right or wrong, you seem to be well on your way towards getting what you want. What do you put that down to?
Jehal: Being smarter than the rest of them. Planning. A bit of luck. The usual things that make a man great. Look at Vishmir, look at Narramed, look at Prince Lai. And then look where they all came from.
Narramed came from The Pinnacles, and you could look at the first Valmeyan while you’re at it. But I take your point. What do you say to your critics?
Jehal: I have critics? Should I murder them? Apparently that’s what I do, after all.
People have looked at your rise and called you many things. Shallow. “Personality-free,” in particular sticks in my mind.
Jehal (with a shrug): And yet cunning, addictive (I imagine that one came from one of my legion of lady admirers). Nicely fleshed out (he leers). Everyone has their detractors. I put it down to envy.
And more commonly: villainous, vicious, nasty, ruthless, greedy, treacherous. Your nemesis, Hyram, calls you The Viper, and the name seems to stick. These are hardly the words used to describe the great leader you seem to aspire to be.
Jehal: (after a pause). I am a prince of dragons. My father is sick, my brother murdered my sister and my mother and was tortured to death for his crimes. Do I seem so different to them? Look at the kings and queens of the other realms. The noble Shezira who sells her daughters so she can claw her own way towards power – no one seems to mind that. The mighty Hyram. Take a good look at him and his pot-boys. Am I so different to them? Look around you at the lords who fly upon our mighty beasts and show me one who is clean. Show me one, just one, and I will throw away my palace and my finery and become a monk. Show me just one. But you can’t. Do you know why? It’s because of what we are. Because of the life we lead. Because we are born with dragons around us, because we live our lives among monsters who routinely smash men to a pulp through a careless flick of the tail. Who hurl their handlers through the air with an idle flap of their wings. Who crush men to death simply because they didn’t look where they were going. Who kill not with malice, but with indifference, and those, I remind you, are the tame ones. That is the life that surrounds a dragon-prince. Death comes and calls at random. Picks you up and plucks you out of your life. No, only two kinds of men live among dragons and survive. The brash and the bold and the cautious nervous ones who call them alchemists. If we dragon-lords are ruthless, it is because we have no space for second thoughts. If we are greedy, it is because we know every moment could be our last. If we are vicious, it is because we have learned that indecision is death. If we are villainous, it is because we know our own kind too well, and I am not an alchemist but a dragon-prince.
Eastercon was a blast, as Eastercons are wont to be. First highlight the Swordplay for Writers panel, from which I took copious notes which would have been directly relevant to the sequel to The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice had I not promptly lost them (if anyone who reads this was there, Steve Kilbane gave out his contact address… pretty please?). Second highlight was the JET panel, simply because it told you all you need to know about how to describe credible fusion containment. Last and best highlight was the company. This could be a very long post if I went on about everyone who was there, but star performer award for all-round good company goes to Gollancz author Gavin Smith, whose debut, Veteran, comes out later this year. I’ve read the first chapter, I liked it very much (reminded me of neuromancer, only in Scotland, so more dirty) and I’ll be reading a lot more just as soon as I get my signed ARC back from wherever it ended up…
Other Eastery things: There’s a new issue of SFX out, and might it have the first review of King of the Crags in it? Yes, it might…
When it landed last year amidst considerable fuss, it was hard not to be a little disappointed with Stephen Deas’s debut, The Adamantine Palace. Here was a novel that promised a tougher, new fantasy style that take on the old fantasy’s stock creatures, dragons. It largely delivered, but along the way some of the world-building and characterisation were a little wobbly.
This sequel marks a step change. As sharp as anything by George RR Martin or Joe Abercrombie this is a fast moving, confident offering from a writer who’s clearly found his rhythm and pace and who doesn’t mess about. Crags picks up almost immediately where its predecessor left off. By way of a darkly humorous reminder that fire-breathing lizards are dangerous, we’re straight into the the action. Frankly, you expect the intrigue and hints of revolution in the offing that Deas serves up, but more impressive is the way he re-engineers familiar fantasy elements. The neo-religious zeal of his red riders for example has clear parallels with our dangerous world. Prince Jehal the chief villain has evolved from a black hat to a altogether more nuanced character. Quite why he does what he does may even be a mystery to Jehal at times you suspect, which makes him gloriously unpredictable. And then there is the white dragon that drives so much of the plot, a creature that has recovered from a chemical castration that keeps its brethren cowed. Whenever snow – which as names go is like calling a tiger Tiddles – is around, there is a vivid sense of an altogether alien presence. While the wider world that forms the backdrop here could still be better realised, it appears the new fantasy has another new star.
Hard, really, to find anything to complain about there. If you happen to read the SFX review column, you’ll notice another Gollancz offering that happens to be due out on the same day as King of the Crags: Tome of the Undergates. Tome got itself a pretty good SFX review too, and then someone who might have been me had this to say about it…
“Wildly descriptive slaughter-fest fantasy with a surprising pathos. Monstrous, murderous, psychotic, deranged, possessed and insane – the only question is what our heroes hate more: The demons they’re fighting, each other or themselves. Sam Sykes has invented a whole new genre – Call Of Duty: Demon Warfare.”
Did I like it? Yes. Grew on me after I’d finished, which is always a good sign. You can see the X-Box version as you read (and to me that’s a good thing), and while I have some reservations here and there, I think (I hope) this could be going somewhere special. A fine companion to Crags, they come out on the same day, and if you like surreal, go you can follow @SamSykesSwears on twitter too.
And one other little thing… (of which more later)
Well, straight to the point, and here it is. There have been others for TAP since it came out in the US, but they don’t say anything that hasn’t already been said, while this one, I thought does. Even if it’s as thumbs doen in the end 
And that’s it. No more TAP reviews being posted, because here comes The King of the Crags. I have copies in my sticky hands and some of them will be coming to Eastercon with me (but not very many). Special opportunity to get an advance signed first edition copy for the two of you who are actually interested. One lucky fellow who won the spot the difference competition more than a year ago will get to be the first person IN THE WORLD to read it. Well, apart from everyone who had anything to do with its creation. And everyone who got advance review copies (and where are the reviews, boys and girls – you’re all being very good about waiting for release day, but it’s killing me here! Not even one of you being a bit naughty)?
OK, so maybe not the first person IN THE WORLD. Maybe about the twenth-seventh. But Lewis, it’s in the post right now and I hope you enjoy it. At some point I’ll dream up another competition. One that involves less waiting around for an entire year for the prize…
In other news, the re-write-athon continues. The penultimate rewrite of OOTS got rudely interrupted last week by the copy-editing of The Thief-Taker’s Apprentice. It’s wierd jumping back and forth between the two because they’re really very different. The dragons books move at a hectic pace, jump from character to character and deliberately show the world in fragments. TTA… doesn’t.
Anyway, that’s out of the way now. OOTS is still just about on schedule to be rewritten by mid-April and then comes…
MYSTERY PROJECT X. In which I get to write some new material for the first time in six months and about which I shall say nothing. Yet.
Gemmel awards last reminder: You vote for the Morning Star award here, the Legend award here and the Ravenheart (cover art) award here. Inside information is that the Ravenheart award in particular needs your love, and given the passion of debate about cover art I’ve seen here and there over the last months, that’s a bit of a surprise. Vote, if you haven’t, and if you have, make ten other people do it. And then make each of them make ten more people vote. Build your own block-voting pyramid scheme! Anything, as long as it’s not apathy. Apathy would be bad. This round of voting is just for the shortlists, after all. A month from now, I shall be bothering you all about this again.
Today’s news is that the final printed copies of King of the Crags have arrived, and very fine they look too:
Shiny shiny, shiny books of dragons...
Nice sample on the back of the hardcover, too: He’d tried to hide deep amid the darkness, beneath layer upon layer of leaf-shadow and branches, but they always found him. He’d tried to run, but the fire always followed him and the forest turned to flames and ash behind him. He’d tried the freezing waters of the river and the dragons had simply boiled it dry… (from chapter one).
On Order of the Scales, I spent the last few days rearranging the chapters in the first third until my eyes bled, trying to get the pacing right. But that’s done, and once I can see again, I’ll be about halfway through by the end of the week. I’m very close to a draft that’s ready to submit with this one.
Oh, and at the Gollancz quiz night last night, I think I got at least one question right, and we all left hot with the buzz about the latest offering from Adam Roberts, who largely stole the show with his plug for Yellow Blue Tibia III, Yellowest, bluest, most-tibia-like-thing. Or something like that. Am already looking forward to any news on part IV, Yellow Blue Tibia with A Vengeance.
I may also finally be living my childhood dreams. Or I may not. For now, this is as uncertain as Adam’s aliens.
The Adamantine Palace is apparently in a reader-voted cage-match with Retribution Falls (ouch – close fight!) over at BSCreview.
You can go and vote for TAP here (or Retribution Falls if you absolutely must – I won’t hold it against you. Much).
Alternatively, you can watch the whole match unfold (there are 64 titles involved in all). Nights of Villjamur vs. Hater? The City and the City vs. The Forest of Hands and Teeth? Double ouch!
This week’s news was that the Poles are going to publish TAP. I have nothing much to add to that as I sit here watching cats exhibit various displays of cold territorial envy towards a) each other and b) the laptop, except that this is also from Poland. There are three cats around me. One tabby moggy who insists she has to sit on the laptop whenever it comes out, one shiny black moggy who thinks he’s a celebrity and gets the hump whenever anyone else gets any attention and then there’s the Norwegian Forest Cat, who is oblivious to all of that and sacks out wherever he damn well pleases. He’s like a mobile purr-rug. Wedgies. They’re great. I’ll post a photo one of these days. In fact, why not now:
There. He looks a little less regal when being dragged around by his armpits by a toddler, but only a little.
Anyway, cats isn’t what I came here to blog about today. It was this, earwig sandwich (or how to nail jelly to walls). A proper blog from back in the days when blogs were on-line diaries. Lulu Labonne is a pen-name, but the rest is real. I like it. It’s a nice change from dragons and swords and blood from time to time. Since I have nothing of any value whatsoever to say this week, I recommend you go read that instead.
OOTS rewrite #3 is underway. The flooring and plasterwork rewrite, the structural stuff having been finally sorted out, the paint-and-polish work yet to come. Blah blah blah. Nothing to see here, move along, move along. I am in love with the ending but I have no doubt my love will not be uniformly shared.
Brief news flash: TAP has been bought by the Poles. Which means the dragons of The Adamantine Palace will soon be playing with Geralt of Rivia on his home turf…
Details later, when I actually know them.