Tuesday, 3 February 2015

Voyager Valentine

When events knock the door off its hinges and kick you out of bed, when you are being hunted but you don’t know why, when others look to you for help even though you told them you weren’t interested, there’s little time to form a lasting relationship.

All this and more confronted Jeniche of Antar and left her old life in ruins. What chance of happiness?

As part of a multi-author Valentine’s Day blog crossover, I asked Jeniche, the central character of my forthcoming novel Stealing into Winter, a few questions to see if the answers might attract a companion for her.

Perhaps Jeniche could even find love in another book? Feel free to suggest in the comments if there’s a character from one of the other authors’ books that you think would make a good match for them. I’m not in a position to offer a giveaway just yet (my book isn’t out until July), but some of the other authors are, so head to their blogs (listed below) if you’re interested in free stuff.

Jeniche of Antar

Name: Jeniche Lusor Remai, although I rarely use my last names.
Age: I’m not exactly sure. Early to mid twenties.
Place of birth: Jhilnagar, which is the closest thing that Antar has to a capital.
Job/career: I’m a thief. But don’t tell the City Guard.
Hobbies: Reading. Astronomy. The University library is easy to sneak into.
Most treasured possession: If you can call it a possession, I count my friendship with Trag as the most treasured thing in my life.
Favourite book: Observations of the Lunar Disc with Notes on the History of the Orb and its Use by the Ancients by Teague of the University of Makamba.
Pets: No. I am rather fond of cats, though.
Who was your childhood hero? I had no childhood.
Who was your first crush? Wedol, son of Bolmit the baker.
What’s your perfect holiday? The festival run by the Tunduri was fun. While it lasted. My abrupt removal from the streets rather put a sour end on it.
Favourite childhood memory? None. Unless you count the day I found the courage to run away. That would be the least worst day of my childhood.
If you came into money, which two people would you share it with? Trag and Shooly’s parents. Yes, I know that’s three people, but Shooly’s parents would spend it all on her, so that makes it two.
What do you think of children? I think they should be loved and play to their heart’s content. If that is, however, a sideways sort of question, then I have not the slightest maternal instinct.
What is your ideal home? The place I live now is just fine although I would prefer better ventilation. Late afternoons in the summer can be a bit overpowering. That’s why you’ll find me on the roof.
What is your perfect date day/night? Do I have to answer this? It’s nothing spectacular. Sitting out at night, beneath a clear sky, talking quietly.
What are you most afraid of? Getting caught.
What did your parents do? The only thing I know about them is the fact they must have produced me. I have no memory of them and was never told about them.



Other authors’ blogs
Katherine Harbour (Thorn Jack Available now)
A.F.E Smith (Darkhaven July 2015)
Bishop O’Connell (The Stolen Available now) 
Ingrid Seymour (Ignite the Shadows April 2015) 
Andy Livingstone (Hero Born April 2015) 
Christi Whitney (Grey Available 2015) 
Nancy Wallace (Among Wolves May 2015) 
Alison Stine (Supervision April 2015)
Jack Heckel (Once Upon A Rhyme Available now) 
Brooke Johnson (The Brass Giant May 2015)

John Ayliff (Belt Three June 2015) 

Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Running a little late...

...but I have been busy. What with all my news and getting manuscripts (why do we still use that and the equally redundant 'typescript'? who knows) ready and all the other stuff I'm doing in a massive deck clearing operation, I feel like I'm busier than ever.

And happy as a larrikin (although why a hooligan would be any happier than anyone else is as much a mystery as most of the rest of life has and continues to be to me).

Anyway, in case you are interested, the series of mine that HarperVoyager have acquired is to be known as 'Shadow in the Storm - the Chronicles of Jeniche of Antar'

The first book will be out in November of this year. Initially as an ebook and followed by a print run in May of next year.

Harper have acquired the first three titles (there are seven in total) and have first refusal on the rest.

Book 1 - Stealing into Winter (already published by Roundfire and reacquired so that HV could have the series from book one).
Book 2 - Exile and Pilgrim (the book that wowed Natasha Bardon at Harper and led to the offer).
Book 3 - Players of the Game
Book 4 - Thunder on the Mountain

Books 5, 6 and 7 are planned but have yet to be drafted. That's my next big task - hence the clearing of the decks so I can sit down and get all three books first drafted in a single session. Watch this space for more news as and when it becomes available.

All that work also explains why my reading rate has dropped a bit.

Books read in August
Any Old Iron – Anthony Burgess
Groaning Spinney – Gladys Mitchell
Late, Late In The Evening – Gladys Mitchell
The Dancer At The Gai-Moulin – Georges Simenon [new tr]
Black Dogs Circled – Mick Farren
Vic And Blood – Harlan Ellison
The Wave In The Mind – Ursula K Le Guin
Cheek By Jowl – Ursula K Le Guin
The Ferguson Affair – Ross Macdonald

Tuesday, 26 August 2014

NEWS!

I can finally announce my big news (on which I've been sitting since I first heard in February).

Not only do I now have a literary agent - the wonderful Leslie Gardner at Artellus, but HarperVoyager have finally announced my signing. I have a three book deal on a series (with first refusal on the rest).

More details will follow when I have them.

Saturday, 2 August 2014

Another month...

...another... er.

Well. What do you expect. I'm a writer. I write. And I read. I rarely leave the house. Nothing much happens.

Which is not strictly true. Things are happening and I am hoping that if you come back next month, you'll be able to read all about it.

In the meantime...

Books read in July
The Word For World Is Forest – Ursula K Le Guin
Nest Of Vipers – Gladys Mitchell
Fault In The Structure – Gladys Mitchell
The Secret Commonwealth Of Elves, Fauns And Fairies – Rev Robert Kirk (Andrew Lang)
The Wild Girls – Ursula K Le Guin
Monkey Planet – Pierre Boulle
Linger Awhile – Russell Hoban
A Man’s Head – Georges Simenon [new tr]
Dance To Your Daddy – Gladys Mitchell
Unlocking The Air – Ursula K Le Guin
Not Just A Witch – Eva Ibbotson

(which list brings this year's reading to 101 books)

Monday, 30 June 2014

Time flies...

...buzzing around as time decays. The whole thing made worse by the fact that we are moving in a different time stream to everyone else. This has always been the case, but it seems worse when you are packed up and ready to go and the others are, metaphorically, still scratching their arses as they climb out of bed.

Still. At least I can write and read as I wait for my home to be torn apart and put back together (such joy).

With writing, I’m at the bitty stage. A bit like all the preparation you need to do for decoration (to stick with a theme). All the choosing and buying of stuff. Going back cos you forgot the right sort of glasspaper (not sure of the metaphorical value of that, but there you go). And then stripping everything down to the bare bones.

As for reading, that is also back to basics in a fashion. I am replacing all my worn out and falling apart Ursula Le Guin books and re-reading most of them as they arrive. It is an education (or re-education). Not least because some of these books are out of print and I’m scouring the world (courtesy of that interweb thingy) looking for pristine copies. They have to last me the rest of my life and whilst I am happy to have second hand copies of some things, these I want new.

It was a blow to realise that a writer of such talent should have work that is out of print in an era when no book need ever be out of print, but not altogether a surprise. It is that sort of a time.

And as I get older, I was thinking about what will happen to my books when I’m gone. I’d hate to think they ended up in bins or the collections I have built up over the decades are dispersed. Although I don’t suppose I’ll be unduly worried.

And on that cheerful note… I’ll buzz off.

Books read in June
Brazen Tongue – Gladys Mitchell
Enderby’s Dark Lady – Anthony Burgess
Dead Men’s Morris – Gladys Mitchell
The Abominables – Eva Ibbotson
The Grand Banks Café – Georges Simenon [new tr]
Rocannon’s World – Ursula K Le Guin
The Wind’s Twelve Quarters – Ursula K Le Guin
Hangman’s Curfew – Gladys Mitchell
Planet Of Exile – Ursula K Le Guin
The Compass Rose – Ursula K Le Guin
Buffalo Gals & Other Animal Presences – Ursula K Le Guin
City Of Illusions – Ursula K Le Guin
The Eye Of The Heron – Ursula K Le Guin

Saturday, 31 May 2014

Little boxes...

Packing continues with minor interruptions along with bad news and good. Pretty much everyday life, in other words. It is an aspect of the paradox that is the writer’s life. Many people consider it a desirable life, yet I suspect that for many they have an unrealistic view of what goes on. Champagne for breakfast, chauffeur driven limos, long lunches with one’s agent and/or editor, literary soirées… Sorry. Not even for the successful ones (although they probably do see a bit of that, who knows there might even really be one out there who gets to hang out with the NYPD and solve cases). For the most part, however, the writing life means dragging your half-awake carcass from bed to keyboard, probably not changing along the way and then sitting in your spare room for hours on end suffering angst whilst fling irate birds at porcine adversaries (so I’ve heard).

All of which is just one side of the story. The other side is that you go places no one has ever been before, or if they have been there, the reports you bring back cast a whole new light (sometimes the eighth one in the spectrum) on things. Writers are explorers, adventurers, people who can, even if they are sitting in the middle of a huge pile of boxes that contain everything they own, create the most wonderful of places, characters, and events. And they conjure this out of the thinnest of air – true magicians.


Books read in May
The Longer Bodies – Gladys Mitchell
The Devil At Saxon Wall – Gladys Mitchell
I, Vampire – Jody Scott
A Crime In Holland – Georges Simenon [new tr]
A Delicate Truth – John le Carré
The Cat – Colette
Inside Mr Enderby – Anthony Burgess
Here Comes A Chopper – Gladys Mitchell
The Treasure Hunt – Andrea Camilleri
Enderby Outside – Anthony Burgess
The Clockwork Testament – Anthony Burgess

Saturday, 3 May 2014

Moving along...

...slowly. 

Trying to work when you are packing everything away is difficult. Quite apart from living surrounded by boxes, it's the psychological disruption, knowing that any time you are going to want a particular book and having no idea which box it is in. And it's not even as if we were moving to a new place with more room and no neighbours walking overhead at six every morning. Still, we are getting a new kitchen, bathroom, and wiring out of it; and the new porch has already been fitted (just waiting for a storm now to give it a proper test).

I also managed to get out from behind the desk yesterday and zipped down to Wigtown. What a place. A book town. It's full of book shops. Stuffed with books. And the sun was shining. If I ever get to heaven (doubtful), that's what it will be like.

Surprisingly, I didn't go down there for the bookshops (although I may have wandered into one or two, judging by the little pile of fresh titles beside me here). I went to the 2nd Wigtown Writers' Gathering and met lots of writers and listened to lots of writers and had a day of nattering with writers. And we had a superb lunch laid on as well.

See. Told you it was heaven.

Books read in April
Chéri – Colette
The Last of Chéri – Colette
Gigi – Colette
echo’s Bones [short story] – Samuel Beckett
The Ripening Seed – Colette
The Carter of La Providence – Georges Simenon [new tr]
The Yellow Dog – Georges Simenon [new tr]
The Ides Of April – Lindsey Davis
Clochemerle – Gabriel Chevallier
Speedy Death – Gladys Mitchell
Night At The Crossroads – Georges Simenon [new tr]