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So, Night Shade Books is running a super smoking sale right now: if you use the coupon code NSB0750 and order at least four books you'll get 50 percent off. Considering we are talking beautifully designed books by such luminaries as Kage Baker, Lucius Shepard, Glen Cook, and Clark Ashton Smith, this is a deal indeed. I've already placed my big fat order--maybe you should go do the same. Let's do our part and keep the gentlemen in zoot suits.

Which brings me to the fact that Eclipse, the anthology in which Quartermaster Returns will be appearing, is now available for pre-order. So don't you think you should be doing that, too?

At long last I have begun the final edit of FLORA REDUX, aiming to have it finished by the middle of August, if not earlier...

Consequently, my blogging may be a bit light for the foreseeable future, or perhaps not as informative and entertaining as usual. Just so you know...

I'm very excited about FLORA REDUX--I had a much easier time writing it than I did FLORA SEGUNDA, and I think its a much more thrilling and exciting yarn. New perils, old troubles, and, of course, waffles...

Hmmmm...waffles...

Naw, I didn't think so...

So here's more of me, over at Little Willow's Slayground, expounding on various topics of great interest to myself and others!

So, I just got my author's copy of the Science Fiction Book Club's edition of Best Short Novels, 2007, edited by the illustrious Jonathan Strahan.

Sieur Strahan kindly tapped Lineaments of Gratified Desire for inclusion in this weighty tome, but I didn't see a full TOC until today.

Boy, am I in good company!

Other contributors include Kage Baker, Robert Reed, Chris Robinson, Robert Charles Wilson, Michael Swanwick, Cory Doctorow and Jeffrey Ford. Truly some legends in the field.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I might find myself with such fine companions--tho' Hardhands might consider it only his due, I'm not quite as certain of of my fabulousity as he is. (Speaking of whom, I was tickled to see our hero described on the fly leaves as a "big-hair rocker"--Ronnie James Dio, eat your heart out!)

I'm not sure that this book is available on the open market; I believe you may have to belong to the Science Fiction Book Club to get your paws upon it, but if you are already a member, here's your chance for some pretty good reading, which my story may contribute to, but only as a part of a greater whole.

Woo!

Check out this cool film of a horse-car cruising down the Slot towards the Embarcadero, shot a few years into Flora's future. Is that Udo on the white horse? And who is that dumb kid who runs and jumps on the back of that phaeton and clings there for several blocks?

Also, I think the Warlord should invest in some traffic lights. Or at the very least some traffic bulls. Some of those drivers are crazy.

Could this be one of the Dainty Pirate's ships? Or perhaps a remnant of the Warlord's invasion fleet?

Maybe so...

Madama Hamerquist has inquired how long it took me to write Metal More Attractive, a short story that was published in F&SF a few years back.

Answer: About 48 hours.

Metal More Attractive was written while I was attending Clarion West a few years back. Our esteemed teacher, Paul Park, had tasked our class with a writing exercise: describe a location through action. That is, rather than using passive description (I walked into the room and looked around...the floor was flat and the walls vertical...) all the setting description should be part of the action of the scene. In response, I wrote the first few paragraphs of Metal More Attractive, which describe Hardhands walking into Guererro's Helado y Refresco.

Later, I finished the story in one caffeine fulled day. At this point, I had already written Flora Segunda, so Califa was clear in my mind, but the characters of Hardhands and Tiny Doom were new to me. I've never written a story so easily and I probably never will again. Despite its length, the tale just poured right out, and I didn't have to do much revising either. Since MMA was the also the first short story I'd ever written, I can truly attribute it to beginner's luck!

Cyrenacia Sidonia Romney Brakespeare ov Haðraaða. Appointed Cadet, Bennica Barracks, 1413. Third Lieutenant, Provisional, Scouting Corps, 1415. Hurtle Champion, 1416, 1417. Graduated 1/123, Bennica Barracks 1417. Appointed First Lieutenant, Alacran, 1417. Promoted Captain, Alacran, 1418. Promoted Major, Alacran, 1433. Promoted Colonel, Alacran, 1434. Promoted Commanding General of the Army of Califa, 1435.

Posts:

Fort Gehenna, Arivapia, 1417-1418 (AAQM, CS, AOO); Fort Jones, Trinity, 1420-1425. (AAQM, AAAG, AOO, CS); Border Paderoll Duty, 1425-1428. Prisoner of War, 1428-1429. On Leave, 1430. Quartermaster General of the Army of Califa, 1430-1433. Commander of the Line & Commanding General of the Army of Califa, 1435-1437. Died 1439.

Honours:

Warlord’s Hammer 1418; Warlord’s Hammer 1425. Warlord’s Hammer 1430. 156 Scalps.

Residences: Bilskinir House; Building Fifty Six, Presidio of Califa.

Clubs: Army & Navy Club; Madam Rose's Flower Garden.

Spouse: Banastre Micajah Haðraaða ov Brakespeare. Leman: Reverdy Fyrdraaca ov Fyrdraaca. Issue: None.

Nicknames: La Azota, (The Whip), Butcher Brakespeare.

Hey--Valefor is in Wikipedia.

Ain't that gonna swell his head (neither donkey nor lion shaped) the size of a small country? Particularly the part about leading legions.

(And for the record I did not know there was any Valefor in any video game. I guess the vidgame people and I used the same source material.)

I am happy to have this be our first appearance in Wikipedia. But I hope it shall be our last.

A curious reader has asked me if I wrote any other novels previous to Flora Segunda.

The answer: kinda.

Before there was Flora, before there was Crackpot Hall, before there was Valefor, I wrote an exceedingly long epic that followed the life of she who you all know as Little Tiny Doom. I'm not sure that this epic could be called a novel, per say, for tho' it cracked in at over 100,000 words, it didn't really much of a structure. Or much of a plot, for that matter. It covered several different periods of Tiny Doom's life, both youth and adult-hood, and though many exciting things happened to her, these events were not thematically linked, nor did they really add up into a narrative arc. At the time, my model was the Norse saga; not the plot-heavy sagas like Njal's Saga, but the personal history saga, like Egil's Saga or King Harald's Saga. Lot of exciting incidents embroidered onto a biography. Which may have played great in a mead-hall, but today we want more of a story arc.

The meandering Brakespearesaga (as I called it) was good for me figuring establishing characters and basic chronology, as well as Califa world building, and, at one time, I had thought I would go back and retro fit enough of a plot that the saga could be considered an actual novel, but I never got around to it, and now I never will, I think. In style, the saga was also modeled on the Norse Saga, so the writing was exceedingly spare and terse, and my style has changed too much to go back to that. Also, the Saga was in first person, which POV I'd like to avoid in the future.

So, in a nutshell, I wrote a big long fat manuscript, but it wasn't really a novel. Just many words, words, words.

In case you are still wondering if you want to give up your valuable reading time to Flora Segunda, here's a little taste to wet your whistle.

An amuse-bouche, as they say.

Or should that be amuse-yeux?

Either way, I hope all of you--not just eyes or mouth--is amused!

Madama Diana Wynne Jones is no tyro when it comes to the fantasy, of course, and she is no fool either, nor does she apparently suffer them as her A Tough Guide to Fantasyland proves. This book is a guide of the Genero-Fantasyland that so many fantasy novels take place in.

You know Fantasyland--it's where stew is always what's for dinner, and you gotta eat it with a spoon 'cause forks are so mundane. Where a horse can gallop without stopping for three days and never ties up, or gets colic, or throws a shoe. Where there are castles, and peasants, and farms, and Dark Lords, and no economy so-to-speak of. Technology is never discovered and progress is never made. No socks, no knitting, no canned food, no pharma. Deserts are to the South; fierce free men live in the cold climes to the North, and no one ever gets chilblains, a toothache, or the squirts.

Alas that so many fantasy novels take place in this Fantasyland, which is so generic that one is tempted to believe that somewhere out there in Writerlandia there's a bible for it. Well, if there is a bible for it, now there's a bible against it. And high time too!

Madama Wynne Jones is merciless in pointing out the silliness of so many aspects of Fantasyland. In doing so, she also points out the silliness of so many writers of fantasy who can't be bothered to create their own worlds, but instead just keep regurgitating a agriculture based pseudo-medieval low-technology place that is pure fantasy, and which, alas, we must needs blame Tolkien for. Her pin is sharp and the balloons ripe for pricking.

And prick those balloons she does. Hedge wizards; mud colored homespun; thatched farmhouses; robes; quests; rabbits; and damp smelling dungeons are among the Fantasyland cliches that Madama Wynne Jones' pops.

As I first flipped through the book, I giggled at lo what fools so many of these fantasy writers be. Then I started to think: was I one of those fools? I remembered that my publishers solicited a blurb from Madama Wynne Jones. Did she read Flora Segunda thinking: what a moron this woman is, she's clearly never been on the back of a horse, nor does she understand supply side economics. Well, as far as horses go, I happily managed to avoid all the horrific errors (never tired; never sick; never bite-y) so many writers fall into. I seem to have (mostly) avoided the other cliches, as well.

And since Madama Wynne Jones did actually give me a wonderful blurb, I guess she didn't think Flora Segunda was too much of the same old. So I breathed a sigh of relief. But I also vowed to be diligent in the future to make sure I didn't creep too far towards this world-view. Making up an entire world is hard; it's easy to fall into short-cuts. And as far as fantasy goes, Fantasyland is the most alluring short-cut there is. (I remind myself what happened to the Reed-Donner Party when they were seduced by a short cut.)

Of course, not all fantasy writers are guilty of pseudo-medieval ramblings. There are many wonderful fantasy novels that take place in either fully realized pastoral worlds, or worlds that aren't pastoral at all. I think now of Elizabeth Hand's gorgeous Winterlong; Paul Park's Starbridge books; or even Gene Wolfe's Shadow of the Torturer which first appears to take place in Fantasyland, but, of course, does not. The list could go on.

Still, clearly there is an appetite for books set in Fantasyland, for so many are published each year, and so many do well. However, once you read A Tough Guide to Fantasyland, the appeal for these types of books will be clearly, if not already killed, definitely muted.

"The entry on swords alone is worth the price of the book, and will save the traveler much heartache and ruin." The Camp Sandy Herald Express.

"Fantasyland is a ripe market. Even the most cautious estimate concludes that there are five million inhabitants all in need of knitted hosiery. That's ten million socks. The P/L implications are clear. The bucket is empty; just waiting for the right investor." Knitted Garments Weekly

"What's the matter with stew?" The Warlord, in an interview with Stew-Tastic, the trade magazine of stew producers and providers.

A reader asks:

"Did Tiny Doom kill Ban in the bath with the Pink Pig?"

Short answer:

"No."

Long Answer:

As the Divine Robert Plant once wailed:

"All will be revealed!"

Several people have asked me where they can get a copy of "Lineaments of Gratified Desire", which appeared in F&SF last year.

I'm pleased to announce that it's been reprinted in both The Year's Best Fantasy & Horror Anthology and in Fantasy: The Year's Best. Neither book is currently available, but you can pre-order both.

So go, do that!

NB: It might actually be "Lineaments of Desire Gratified"--I can never remember which is right and I'm currently too decaffeinated to look it up.

I'm happy to report that Flora Segunda is an Editor's Choice in this Sunday's New York Times. Our girl, Udo, and Flynn are doing pretty good for themselves.

Ooh-rah!

. . . to public blogging, a big thanks to the generous and talented Ysabeau Wilce for trusting me not to screw up her soapbox too badly while she's away conferring, conversing, and otherwise hobnobbing with her fellow wizards in Alta Califa. As the temperature plummets by the minute here in fickle NYC, with snow on the horizon for tonight, and neither cocktails nor golf in my immediate future, it's comforting somehow to think of Ysa and Pig sipping Sidecars at Bix while whispering doubletalk in Barbarick.

I'll try to have more of interest to post tomorrow, but I do believe in closing on an uplifting note. Every so often a story comes along that makes one proud to be an American, the kind of story that renews one's faith in good old American ingenuity and inventiveness. As long as this country is capable of producing men like John W. Cornwell, I have no fears for its future. Sieur Cornwell, I salute you -- huzzah!

By the way, a recent review accused me of using "made up" words in Flora Segunda. I'd like to state for the record that, with only one or two exceptions, I did not use any made up words in Flora Segunda!

Some of my vocab may be arcane, out-of-date, or just plain obscure, but I promise you (almost) none of it spilled forth from my imagination. Most can be found in the Dictionary of Record, the OED. Some it requires Partridge's Dictionary of Slang. Some sources are even more arcane. But it's all real. Being not even a teeny tiny bit of the linguist that other much more august writers might be, I wouldn't dare to embark upon making up my own words. If you aren't an Oxford don, therein lies Trouble.

Besides, with all those lovely words out there waiting to be used, why would I want to make any up?

So next time, watch those mingy howlers, pluggy, or we might be coming to milvads, or worse, I might erucate into fulginous fury and after clocking you in the eyghen defenestrate you.

Several readers have asked me if wer-flamingo bites are painful.

Yes.

Yes, they are.

But what price pink?

Here's an interesting article that details gender stereotypes in children's literature. This study only covers kidlit through 1991.

In the last fifteen years, things have changed, no?

Actually, no.

Maybe they've changed a little, but not so very much, conclude the authors of "Gender Stereotyping and Under-Representation of Female Characters in 200 Popular Children's Picture Books: A 21st Century Update" recently published Sex Roles: A Journal for Research. The study only covers picture books, not novels, but I strongly suspect if Drs. Anderson & Hamilton had looked further into that age group, they would have reached the same conclusions.

I tried super hard not stereotype characters in Flora Segunda. Or at least not to gender stereotype characters. In fact, I tried hard not to gender any of the characters in Califa. Of course, imagining a world without gender stereotypes is a rather utopian pipedream, and I'm sure that if I examined my gendering carefully, I'd probably still find stereotypes. But at least, on the surface, people in Califa order their lives, their clothes, and their occupations via their inclinations and not because of their sex.

Flora's problems stem from her own desires, not from her sex. She's not trying to over come being a girl, or becoming what she wants to be despite being a girl. There's a long tradition of heroines trying to overcome the "disadvantage" of being girls, from Jo March on. And it's a good tradition, but not one that I wanted to add to. I found it more interesting to try to mix things up, to give "female" qualities to men (fancy clothes and makeup) and "male" qualities to females (military power).

Sometimes I think I might have overdone a bit--I've had several people ask me if Califa is (Warlord aside) a matriarchal society. It's not. Though it wasn't happenstance that the Hadraada family ordered itself through the female line only, it's just happenstance that the last two commanding generals of the Army of Califa were women. I wasn't trying to imply that Florian was the lone male in a matriarchy.

At least, I don't think I was.

So, I've finally started working on the final draft of Flora Redux (working title, of course), which first draft I finished at the end of the December. My Divine Editrix has informed me that Flora's further adventures, along with the paperback of Flora Segunda, should arrive in bookstores Spring of 2008.

Which only seems far away. In book production time, that's not so far away at all. One of the many mysteries of book publishing to which I was not privy until recently is that it takes quite some time to go from manuscript to hefty volume. Sometimes as long as year. In Flora Redux's case, the final draft needs to be finalized by July. So I have to get cracking.

I'm super excited about this book; in some respects I think it's ages better than Flora Segunda. That book had a rather long and torturous path from my imagination to printed page. The first draft was only about 3/4 as long as the final, and I had to retro fit an entire subplot into the main plot, and cut quite a bit of extraneous stuff out (including Udo's younger brother--oh Gesilher, we hardly knew ye!), and it was a painful process. While I believe that the Flora Segunda that is in stores now is the best Flora Segunda that Flora Segunda was ever going to be, I couldn't help but feel that I could do better.

Viz., Flora Redux.

Though I initially had a hard time picking up Flora's voice, once I gathered steam, and Flora settled back in, the story really chugged along. The dangers are far more dangerous; the enemies far more devious; and the stakes far higher than they were in the first book. This time, it's not just Flora herself who is threatened, but the entire City of Califa.

Flora Redux picks up a month or so after Flora Segunda ends. Much at Crackpot Hall has changed, and yet, alas, much remains the same.

What else we got? Well...dragon-horse cars; earthquakes; ruined bath-houses; extremely loud rock bands; Hotspur-Sober-Now-A-Stickler-For-Rules; deserter sisters; more rangers; a horrible secret hidden deep beneath the City's crust; a riot; bear-headed girls; phosphorescent bullets; revolutionaries; oubliettes; Udo's new hat; and, of course, snacks.

I think Flora Redux is pretty good. I hope you will ditto.

The Alacran Regiment is the only regiment in the Army of Califa which does not wear black uniforms. In keeping with their reputation, their regimentals are sangyn colored. What color is sangyn?

Sangyn is red. But not just any red--a good true bluish blood red.

The word sangyn, of course, is a derivation or alternative spelling of sanguine, which the OED defines as "blood red." The first written record of its usage as a color came in 1500, but in 1386 Chaucer described a character "In sangwyn...he clad was al." These usages all come from a time before spelling was standardized, and people tended to write words out phonetically (how they sounded.) Different accents resulted in different spellings.

The particular spelling that I use comes from the Elizabethan era. This was a great time period for color names. The Elizabethan Costume website has a long list of fabulous colors, including popinjay, incarnate, puke, dead spaniard, and the delightfully named goose turd. (Gee--wonder what color that is?)

The Alacran Regimental uniform has argent (silver) facings, and argent aigulettes, and looks a little like this. The skirts are shorter, of course, and the weskit not so tightly cinched. The dress wig is also sangyn, and the gorget is argent, and embossed with a stylized scorpion, the animal, from which, of course, the Alacran take their name.

I am marvelously happy to report that Flora Segunda has a full page review in this Sunday's New York Times.

Needless to say, I am thrilled, excited, and super surprised. Never in my wildest imaginings (and those who know me well know well my wild imaginings!) did I hope for such an honour. And it's a good review, too! Icing in my cupcake...

Many huzzas and much celebration here.

Whoo--hoo!

At the school visit I did last week, several kids asked me to pronounce some of the weird Califa names. Some of the pronunciations are standard, but some are mine own...

Fyrdraaca = Fur-draaca.
Landadon = Land-athon
Huitzil = Weetzil
Axacaya = Ashakaya
Paimon = Paymon
Valefor = Valayfor
Hadraada = Hathratha
Axila = Asheela
Sangyn = sangin

How do you pronounce all those Gramatica words? Ah, now that would be telling... Read the rest of this post

Sandhya over at WORD: The Official Blog of Read and Writing Magazine just posted a hot diggity dog good review of Flora Segunda. Of the kind things she said, the most pleasing was that Califa seemed so real. It's a real place to me, so I am glad I was able to convey that verisimilitude to others.

WORD is running a contest, too--if you are a kid and send her your guess on what city the City of Califa is modeled on, you can win a free signed copy of Flora Segunda. Note that I said you need to be a kid--in years, not in mentality--so keep that mind if you should decide to play.

WORD is a super cool site, particularly if you are still in your salad days (i.e., still green in years and heart) and I urge all budding young writers to check it out. They have lots of great writing tips, cool contests, and great interviews. Check out this Q & A with China Mieville, whose new book, Un Lun Dun, is getting fabulous reviews. I haven't cracked it yet, but the review was a reminder to me that it's on my to read shelf, and I should get to it.

Thanks, Sandhya!

Recently someone asked me where I came up with the name Crackpot Hall.

Alas, I didn't come up with the name--I just borrowed it.

The real Crackpot Hall is a seventeenth century farm house in the Yorkshire dales that is now in ruins. According to this webpage, a plaque at the site says that at one time there was a fifteenth century hunting lodge on the property, which was later replaced by the farm-house. The house was only abandoned in the 1950s, and I couldn't find out any information about who lived there. The ruins don't look like much now, but the farmhouse was once quite comfortable and expansive, tho' not as grand as its name might suggest.

According to its Wikipedia entry, the placename crackpot comes from the old Norse word kraka (crow) and pot (cavity or cave). (Back in the Day, this part of Yorkshire was riddled with Vikings, hence Yorkshire is riddled with Viking placenames.) Was there was once a hole full of crows there? Do crows even live in holes? Sounds rather like a dark and sinister place to me. Crows are sinister birds, after all, full of malice and tricks, attracted to carrion, and sometimes seen in the company of one eyed men.

Of course, today when most people use the word crackpot they mean a "whimsically eccentric person" or a "crank".

(I'll let you guess which meaning I prefer!)

I first came across mention of Crackpot Hall years and years ago, when I was still quite young--altho' today I don't remember exactly when or how. When I was thirteen, my parents and I took a motoring tour of North Yorkshire, perhaps we went by the site, or read about it in a guidebook. Anyway, the name, so deliciously strange, stuck in my mind rather firmly. When it came time to name the family home of the Fyrdraaca family, whimsically eccentric or cranky some, darkly sinister others, Crackpot Hall seemed to fit perfectly.

(I can hear Valefor saying in disgust: Fyrdraaca House, not Crackpot Hall!)