REVIEW : Glorious Angels by Justina Robson

 

Justina Robson is one of those one-of-a-kind authors that defy easy classification. Her "Quantum Gravity" certainly looked like run of the mill action science fiction if you judged it solely by the covers but once started digging deep you would probably be surprised by what you would find - complexity, philosophy and all around strangeness. Robson's first standalone novel in years, "The Glorious Angels" doesn't hide away behind its cover art. The synopsis states it clearly and instantly promises "a thrilling mix of science, magic and sexual politics". "The Glorious Angels" delivers all this and plenty more. It is Justina Robson coming at its readers with all guns blazing.

For a book that mostly about ideas, "The Glorious Angels" sports a suitably impressive setting. The story is set on a matriarchy world ruled by mind-linked empresses. There's magic that shapes the world and is literary connected their their fickle moods. The power is spread across 8 cities and as the story open we're in Glimshard, second city of the Golden Empire and Westernmost Outpost of Civilisation. As Tralane, an engineer, is working when she overhears that Karoo has been seen. A strange creature that threatens to bring the war. That is just the beginning for her as the story unfolds through the eyes of many different very effectively used points of view we learn that Glimshard is not immune to political manipulations, backstabbings and social disorder. Amongst all this an archaeological site slowly enters the picture and brings about the chance of finding a long forgotten technology that has the power to usurp everything.

 

I'm intentionally obtuse about the plot as I don't want to spoil the story but if there's one advice I can give to all new readers it is that you should read "The Glorious Angels" slowly. There's an insane amount of characters, information and philosophy that just begs to be explored in details. As such, "The Glorious Angels" is one of those books that deserves a re-read and I hope to do one soon. I won't pretend that I understood everything the first time around and I've read few paragraphs more than once but that's the beauty of Robson's writing. She never looks down on the reader. Best of all, "The Glorious Angels" is a book about women - one which plays with tropes but sets them on a level playing field, which is exactly what we're all fighting for. I waited for something this intelligent for a long time and I certainly wasn't disappointed. Having previously mentioned that this was a standalone, the ending leaves plenty of room for a sequel or two so it'll be interesting seeing whether something will happen in the future. All in all - a tremendously deep read! One I would recommended to all veteran readers of the genre fiction.


Review copy provided by Gollancz.
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REVIEW : The Cost of Courage by Charles Kaiser

 

Charles Kaiser's impressive new book "The Cost of Courage" brings back to life the true story of Christiane, Jacqueline and Andre, three youngest children of middle-class Catholic French family Boulloche as the fiercely fought against Gestapo and the German occupation of France. It's a fascinating and impeccably researched tale that though many documents and letters ultimately reveals how many little events worked together to send Boulloche siblings on their trajectory. Christiane, Jacqueline and Andre's tired-less and brave work proved paramount for the success of French resistance.

In 1943 Andre became Charles de Gaulle's military delegate and served as a coordinator of all Resistance activities over nine northern regions of France. After being betrayed by one of his associates, Andre was captured by the Gestapo and spent the rest of the war in no less than tree concentration camps. Even there he made a change for the better. Unwilling to succumb to despair he became something of a leader of prisoners and improved the living conditions and morale in any way he could. He survived and spent the rest of his life fighting through politics for the reconciliation of Germany and France. However, no everything finished well for the Boulloche family. Three weeks before the liberation Gestapo came to his parents' apartment looking for Catherine. Unable to find her they've taken his father, mother and his brother Robert despite all of them being completely innocent. After horrific torture all of them perished.

For many years details of the story of Boulloche siblings have been unknown. This was partly due to Christiane, Jacqueline and Andre not willing to go back to those unbearable traumatic events of the past. "The Cost of Courage" changes all that. In a landmark move, family has decided to talk about the history with Kaiser. Equally important for the authenticity of the book, after a successful petition Kaiser has managed to secure the release of many, until now, classified documents. For all these reasons "The Cost of Courage" is an indispensable account of the history of French Resistance and the way a single, heroic, person can really change the course of history.


Review copy provided by Other Press.
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The story behind The Doll Maker by Richard Montanari

At six a.m., as every other day, Mr Marseille and I opened our eyes, dark lashes counterweighted to the light.

And so begins Book One of the ‘The Doll Maker,’ titled Anabelle.

Usually, when I start a new novel, I begin with a what if, followed always with a why. What if this were possible, and why is the villain doing all these terrible things?

This time it was a little different. The idea for ‘The Doll Maker’ came to me unbidden many years ago — long before I had any notion of writing fiction — in the lyrics of a song by one of my favorite bands of all time, Golden Earring.

The song is “The Wall of Dolls.” The first four lines are:

This is the wall of dolls
Secret world of smalls
Look at them all my friend
You’ll be one of them in the end.

I’ve never been able to shake the mental image of a ‘secret world of smalls.’

When it came time to write the book, the eighth novel to feature Philadelphia homicide detectives Kevin Byrne and Jessica Balzano, I knew that this song would be the guiding light.

Much of my work has centered around people who inhabit worlds unknown to most of us. In ‘The Stolen Ones,’ Luther haunts the catacombs beneath the city of Philadelphia. In ‘Play Dead,’ Joseph Swann moves through a house made of mirrors and mazes, a decaying mansion with stairways leading nowhere.

As the story of ‘The Doll Maker’ began to take form, I soon realized that the two central characters of the piece would be different from any other characters I’ve ever created.

Anabelle and Mr Marseille are young, exceedingly polite, always impeccably dressed, and seem to be from another era, a more formal time of gentility and grace. Theirs is indeed a secret world of smalls. Their friends are made of delicate porcelain, with crystal eyes and fine mohair wigs. Every day Anabelle and Mr Marseille have a formal tea, with centerpieces and place cards. On special occasions they hold a thé dansant, a tea dance. Sometimes, they invite a guest.

The guests never leave alive.

At the opening of the story, Detectives Byrne and Balzano investigate the murder of a teenage girl. She is found at a train station, posed on a newly painted bench. Nearby is an invitation to a tea dance, to be held exactly one week later.

As promised, one week later, they discover more victims, and another invitation.

In doing research for the book I found that doll collectors can be somewhat eccentric, certainly different from collectors of other things; say, coins or stamps or exotic automobiles. Many times, the hobby of doll collecting begins with a particular doll that comes along at a time in life when the world of make-believe is quite real, and the emotional attachment is just as tangible.

I learned that all dolls have a name.

My journey took me to doll shops, estate sales, antique stores, flea markets, house sales. At these venues dolls were almost always reverently displayed on a shelf or a table, rarely just thrown into a box. Many times, when I inquired about a doll, I received a detailed history, including the doll’s childhood.

I also discovered the Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death. Created in the early 1940s by Frances Glessner Lee — one of the founders of the Department of Legal Medicine at Harvard, and the first woman ever to be appointed captain in the New Hampshire State Police — the Nutshell Studies were a series of miniature dioramas of crime scenes, all recreated to the finest detail. Friends of Mrs. Lee, which included Perry Mason-creator Erle Stanley Gardner, said the studies, which are now in possession of the Maryland Chief Medical Examiner’s office, were the culmination of the woman’s passion for dolls, dollhouses, and forensic medicine.

When I heard about this, I knew I had to enter this world.

During the course of their investigation, Detectives Byrne and Balzano encounter an elegant older woman named Miss Emmaline, the proprietor of a West Philadelphia doll shop called ‘The Secret World.’

She tells them:

“When my sisters and I were small, my grandmother only took out her doll on special occasions. Her name was Sarah Jane. The doll, not my grandmother. We had to be bathed and scrubbed every time we touched Sarah Jane, had to have very clean hands when we held her. When we got older, and took to tom-boying, we had to wear our Easter gloves. Imagine.”

I imagine that Anabelle and Mr Marseille are, right at this moment, dressing in their finery, setting a table, and clearing the room for a thé dansant.

You are invited.


Richard Montanari
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REVIEW : Sleeping on Jupiter by Anuradha Roy

 

It's a story that's instantly recognizable from media headlines but one that starts innocently enough. "Sleeping on Jupiter" opens as three women spend fourteen hours in Coach A2. Gouri, Latika and Vidya are excited as this is their first outing together and as they're sorting out their berth arrangements Gouri encounters the fourth person in their compartment. A girl busily exploring her travel guide. It soon transpires that Nomita Frederiksen is from Oslo and travels the world trying to research material for her documentary on religious tourism. Nomita leaves the sleeper train at one of the stations only to be violently and sexually attacked minutes after for apparently no reason. In the meantime her train starts to pull off out of the station and Gouri, Latika and Vidya are worried for the girl and want to do something. For a moment they think pulling emergency stop is the option but afraid that they'll pay a hefty fine in the end they don't do anything. Nomita is left behind.

The story that follows unfolds across the subsequent eighteen days and initially Gouri, Latika and Vidya's dream holiday is marred but what occurred. They're worried for Nomita so when they meet again some five days later, they're both thrilled and relieved. On the other hand Nomita is embarking on a pilgrimage of the soul - on a quest to finally face her horrific past, one that almost impossibly hard to read. Nomita's traumatic childhood is revealed through flashbacks and is painted in contrast to oppressive climate of violence that permeated all aspects of society.

Needless to say, "Sleeping on Jupiter" is often a harrowing read but one which is crucial to understand correctly. Anuratha Roy is incredibly courageous for writing a book like "Sleeping on Jupiter" and one that will be an important part of that huge swelling wave that'll eventually stop the horrific violence perpetuated daily against women in India.


Review copy provided by Maclehose Press.
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The story behind Poseidon's Children by Alastair Reynolds

The Saturn V rocket had been broken into its constituent stages and laid out horizontally, end to end, along the vast length of one of the public buildings at the Kennedy Space Centre. Simply to visualise this incredible machine lifting itself off the ground was astonishing enough. It required a real leap of the imagination to think of it carrying three human beings all the way to the Moon and back. And yet this piece of technology was already forty years old, conceived and fabricated in an era when computers filled basements, and had about as much processing power as a cheap cellphone …

It was 2008. My wife and I had arranged our trip to Florida around the chance to see one of the last few space shuttle launches. By the time we were committed to the trip – flights, accommodation and rental car all booked – the shuttle launch had been indefinitely postponed. All the same, we couldn’t turn down the chance to visit KSC. With a year to go before the anniversary of Apollo 11, thoughts were already turning back to those heady years of the late sixties, when anything seemed possible.

Like many of my generation, I’d spent much of my life both excited and frustrated by our subsequent progress in space exploration. On one level, there was much to celebrate. We had gained an unprecedented knowledge of almost all the planets in the solar system, as well as many of their moons. But at the same, progress in human spaceflight had been faltering and directionless. The shuttle hadn’t turned out to be the reliable and inexpensive space taxi many had hoped for. The space station, decades in the planning, seemed hobbled by compromise. No one was actually sure what it was for, or what to do with it next. In the four decades since Apollo, people had gone no further than low Earth orbit. It was hard not to wonder about the missed opportunities, the roads not taken. Why were we no closer to returning to Mars, or even the Moon, than we’d been in the eighties?

And being this close to the start of it all, seeing the pads, the crawler, the assembly building – it didn’t leave me feeling dispirited. Quite the opposite. There seemed to be a buzz in the air, a sense of better things to come – a real chance for NASA to regain direction and purpose. New ships and capsules were on the drawing board – new plans to return to the Moon and beyond.

Suitably galvanised, I spent the rest of the trip with my head swimming with ideas for a grand new series of novels. I could see the shape of a trilogy, each book expanding on the last, taking us from the familiar locales of the solar system out to the depths of interstellar space. Well-trodden territory for a science fiction writer, perhaps, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make it feel new and fresh.

The structure of the thing would be simple, based on an exponential progression. The first book would span about a hundred years of future history. The next, one thousand. The third, ten thousand. Eleven thousand years, plus change. I started referring to in shorthand as the “11K” sequence.

Bad mistake. Never talk about things until you’re absolutely sure where you’re going.

I started work on the first book. I had the plot early on – a family saga involving the legacy of a dead space explorer, also the matriarch of a powerful industrial clan. What I didn’t have was anything that made it feel distinct or fresh. By chance, though, I’d been listening to a lot of world music. A particular track by the Ugandan musician Geoffrey Oryema began to paint images in my mind. I could see a woman, of African heritage, standing on the bridge or control deck of some vast spaceship, some unguessable number of years in the future, far from whatever place she might have called home. I knew that this woman was faced with a terrible decision, one that would involve the sparing or the destruction of countless lives, but that whatever action she chose would also have momentous costs for others.

I didn’t know the name of this woman, or have any sense of how she fitted into the arc of the trilogy. But I knew I had to find my way to her, and tell her story.

By anchoring the trilogy on an African family, in a future in which the African nations have risen to immense economic and technological prominence, I felt I had something fresh to bring to the table. I’d read enough SF novels in which the default assumption was that the future belonged to the West. Why not try something different? People seemed to have no trouble believing in an American-dominated future, or even a Russian or Chinese one, so why not Africa? In the end, for plot reasons (I needed the action to happen in the vicinity of Kilimanjaro) I opted to locate my Akinya family in the area of what was once Tanzania and Kenya, although by the time of the novel these nations have been subsumed into the East African Federation, an economic union that has already been proposed and discussed. I populated my novel with mostly non-Western characters and tried to hint at the linguistic complexities of my rich, populous, multicultural mid-twenty second century society. At the same time, my protagonists were for the most part standard SF archetypes – scientists, explorers, politicians, businesspeople and so on – they just happened not to have Anglo-Saxon names. My world was peaceful, prosperous and yet recognisably derived from our own. Although not conceived as a utopia, it was certainly a contrast to the prevailing mode of pessimism about the future often found in SF – not least in some of my own novels.

Once I’d finished Blue Remembered Earth, I began work on the second books in the sequence, On the Steel Breeze. According to my 11K scheme, it had to span about one thousand years of future history. Quickly, though, it became obvious to me that I couldn’t make it work. I wanted the whole sequence to be a family saga, but the implied shift from the first to the second book made it really hard to maintain any sense of continuity. I wanted to skip a generation, maybe two, but not five or six! With some misgivings, I dialled back from the 11K idea. The second book would advance the story by a few centuries, that was all. And indeed the third book – Poseidon’s Wake, which is now about to be published – eventually takes us to about a thousand years from now. In that sense, I bottled out. But I think the sequence is stronger for having a clearer thread of family relationships running through it, and there are characters who overlap between each of the books.

The odd thing is, despite all this, I don’t think I’ve quite scratched that 11K itch. Perhaps one day I’ll have another shot at it – or something similar. Or perhaps there will be a fourth novel in the Akinya saga, if I can think of a sufficiently compelling story. It’s a trilogy as it stands, but the individual books have been structured to be read as independent novels, and while the third book does resolve the major themes and mysteries set in motion by the preceding volumes, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t scope for a continuation.

But not now. Not for a while. It’s been fun, and challenging, and occasionally terrifying, but for the time being I’m done with it. I am grateful for the editors who had the conviction to back me when I first started talking about the sequence, those who worked with me through the enterprise, and for the readers who followed me through the trilogy, even though I was definitely giving them a different flavour of SF to what they might have expected given my earlier books.

As for the spark that started it all, back at the Kennedy Space Centre – there have been ups and downs since 2008, to be sure. But at more than any time in decades, there does seem to be a renewed sense of optimism about what we can achieve in space. And I consider myself very fortunate to be alive to see it happening.


Alastair Reynolds
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REVIEW : Poseidon's Wake by Alastair Reynolds

 

When news of Alastair Reynolds' latest contract broke into headlines I was filled with such immense feeling of satisfaction but not for the reasons you might initially imagine. Sure, the contract was for cool 1 million and it was for ten books but I was not only happy for the fact that I'll have new books to read for the foreseeable future. In this instance more important than the books themselves was the fact that Alastair's work was truly appreciated by both his publisher and the public. When it comes to my heroes it often happens that one or the other is missing so the author ends up being in that dreaded "underrated" category. But no such worries for Alastair. By all accounts the entire "Poseidon's Children" trilogy has been a huge success. It is filled with innovative storytelling, life-affirming plots and now with "Poseidon's Wake" it finally comes to a close.

Similarly to its predecessors "Poseidon's Wake" is a standalone novel thematically connected to previous installments "Blue Remembered Earth and" "On the Steel Breeze". However, a note to those encountering "Poseidon's Children" for the first time: "Poseidon's Wake" relies heavily on many events that happened before and while it is certainly possible to understand everything, you'll enjoy the story at much greater depth if you read everything in order in which it was published. In "Poseidon's Wake" we once again meet members of Akinya family as their generations rush by us. Similarly as before, through their eyes we, as readers, are in a unique position to explore the world that surrounds them. It's a great literary device and the pace of change in society is obvious. It's such a treat to have such a clear and omnipresent view. This time the story unfolds through two strands that follow Kanu Akinya and Goma Akinya at they go through their paces. One of them occurs on Mars where an interesting evolution involving a rogue AI civilisation is taking place and while other unfolds on Crucible, a planet situated near Sixty-One Virginis and colonized by humans where one can meet Geoffrey's intelligent elephants known as Tantors as well as see ‘’The Mandala”, a strange alien artefact in the sky surrounded by the mysterious and notoriously erratic Watchmakers. When a message arrives from Gliese 163, a distant unexplored system, there's a mention of Eunice Akinya. In a leap of faith two Crucible starships that can achieve half a speed of light are dispatched to discover the truth.

In a typically Reynolds' fashion this is a story full of intriguing scientific concepts, technological marvels and complex biological systems. "Poseidon's Wake" is a purest example of Reynolds I've learned to enjoy and love over all those years. Though the lives of his characters he's actually exploring the human condition - what makes as tick - and, as always, he does it in such a superb and thought provoking fashion. In my opinion, "Poseidon's Children" is his finest moment yet and "Poseidon's Wake" is a glorious conclusion of the trilogy. A wonderful book and best that British SF has to offer at the moment.


Review copy provided by Gollancz.
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The story behind Superposition by David Walton

Imagine yourself in the jury box.  On the witness stand is a Russian-born woman with connections to the mob.  Her lover has been murdered, crushing their plans to fake his death and run away to Switzerland together.  She is so hostile that she practically snarls at the lawyers on both sides.  Fiction?  Nope.  This is the real life trial I sat on as juror several years ago, that served as part of the inspiration for my latest novel, SUPERPOSITION.

None of the details of that case are in the book.  Instead, it was the experience of watching a story unfold a little at a time, as each witness told what they knew.  It was a fascinating way to tell a story, out of time order, the whole finally coming together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

At the same time, I was reading non-fiction books about quantum physics.  If the reality of that trial seems crazy, the physics of subatomic particles is even crazier.  At the subatomic level, nothing behaves the way we expect.  Particles exist in more than one place, or more than one state, at the same time.  Electrons move from point A to point B without ever existing in some of the places in between.  Measurement of one particle instantaneously influences another, regardless of the distance between them.

From these two unlikely parents, the idea for my novel SUPERPOSITION was born.  In the novel, as you might have guessed, the crazy properties of the quantum level start showing up in the larger world—-thanks to a new technology and the interference of an alien quantum intelligence.  Everyday objects jump through walls.  Bullets diffract instead of photons.  People exist in more than one place at the same time.

I love stories that tie my mind in knots, and this novel does that, combining the weird world of quantum physics with the out-of-time structure from the trial.  It's mind-bending, but it’s no cerebral drama.  It’s a fast-paced thriller, with high-stakes danger and a race to the finish.  It starts when a former colleague shows up at Jacob Kelley’s door full of unbelievable tales and fires a gun at Jacob’s wife.  When the colleague shows up dead, Jacob is accused of murder.  Soon he and his teenage daughter are on the run, pursued by the police and by a quantum intelligence unconstrained by the normal limits of space and matter.  Father and daughter have to pick up the pieces, following multiple paths of possibility to get to the truth and put their lives back together again.

It’s a whirlwind from beginning to end, and it was great fun to write.  I hope you’ll give it a try!


David Walton
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The story behind Starborn by Lucy Hounsom

Starborn wasn’t birthed from a singular idea, but rather the whole of my love for the fantasy genre. As well as being a child of the Harry Potter generation, I began my journey with Tolkien and found The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion the most wonderful things I’d ever encountered in my young life. Tolkien appears to have a peculiar effect on most teenagers who read him and I immediately had to get my hands on as much fantasy as possible, as swiftly as possible. So I moved onto Alan Garner, Robin Jarvis, Terry Pratchett, Philip Pullman, Dragonlance…and everything I read coaxed me deeper into the woods. However, it wasn’t until I stumbled across what I call the epics (Robin Hobb, Terry Goodkind, Terry Brooks, James Clemens, David Eddings to name a few) that I realised I wanted to do what they did: create these huge, sweeping storylines to ensnare readers and whisk them off on an adventure.

So at 15, filled with zeal, I wrote my own novel, which had everything from elves to dwarves to dark lords in it…and was thus pretty awful. But I enjoyed writing it so much that I knew I wanted to do it for the rest of my life. The seeds of Starborn, which has had several titles over the course of its development, were planted two years later whilst I was reading Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time. Now I know this series has its faults, but wow – to a 17 year old, it was nothing short of magnificent. Reincarnated hero! Satan-like evil entity! Megalomaniac sorceresses! At that moment, I knew nothing short of epic fantasy would do for me.

Although Starborn probably bears a closer resemblance to Trudi Canavan and David Eddings in style, one of the first reviews noted it was the tiniest bit Jordan-esque, and I’m totally going to run with that. Where it differs is of course in its projected length – I’m writing a trilogy rather than a 14-book epic and little of it is planned out. Regarding the writing of Starborn itself, I knew how the story would end, but had no notion of how to get there. Using George R. R. Martin’s metaphor, I’m a gardener, planting the unrecognisable seeds of an idea and watching them grow. I believe you have to get to know your characters in the same way as people – there’s no way you can understand everything about them at first glance. That’s why series are such fun: they give a writer time to listen to their characters, to walk the path beside them.

The first draft took me 13 months without working to deadline, and I spent a further year redrafting and editing and trying to knock it into shape. During that time I was reading lots of other fantasy and when I told a friend that I planned to switch the gender of my protagonist from male to female, he recommended Philip Reeve’s excellent Mortal Engines series. One of the main characters is Hester, whose life is bold, brave and tragic, and I learned a good deal from Reeve’s deft characterisation. Hester’s a hero, but far from stereotypical; her life is very dark indeed and she has an attitude to violence that flies in the face of conventional heroism. The ambiguous hero is one of my central themes and Reeve’s ability to create a sympathetic character who does unsympathetic things helped me to understand how such a character could come to be, how they’d interact with others and how they’d move forward in their life.

Character wasn’t the only research I did. When these questions pop up in the context of fantasy, a lot of people assume there isn’t much research involved unless you’re writing historical fantasy. And I’m the first to admit that research didn’t play a huge part in the writing process – I wasn’t trying to recreate the Roman Empire, or utilise as a template any ancient structures of government, but I still found myself faced with a host of smaller questions which necessitated a bit of digging. Horses, for example, tend to feature hugely in fantasy books, but I know next to nothing about them and my horses are, I admit, still pretty sketchy. Topography of landscape was another thing and how far you could travel in a day over different terrains. I also have airships, which I needed to make realistic enough without going down steampunk avenue, but the most fascinating (and gross) research involved burns and their effect on the human body. For Book Two, I’ve had to look up stuff on necrosis, blood poisoning and the process of decomposition…which makes it sound like I’m writing a crime novel. In conclusion, research is fun.

I won’t deny that my day job as a bookseller has also been a major influence and I’ve written quite a bit about my experience as both writer and bookseller and how one informs the other. I completed most of Starborn during my time at Waterstones, sitting at my desk amongst the books, and it’s certainly affected the way I view the creation of a book as a physical, tradable object as well as an artwork. Once a story reaches the end of the publishing process, ownership shifts; Starborn now belongs to the readers, for whom it was written and I very much hope it will be enjoyed. For someone who has worked closely with books for the last five years, the journey has been all the more poignant. As author and bookseller both, I find myself at the beginning and end of the creative process, and though I’ve imagined the result many times, it’s still amazing to see my imperfect words sandwiched between the covers of a book. It’s a wonderful feeling and one I hope will never go away.


Lucy Hounsom
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The story behind Blue Avenue by Michael Wiley

Law enforcement surveys call Jacksonville the Murder Capital of Florida. Kids in the neighborhoods where the killing is most common call the city Bang ’em Town. I call it a dark part of the Sunshine State. For the past seventeen years, I’ve also called it home.

            Blue Avenue cuts from Kings Road to West 13th through one of the city’s highest-crime neighborhoods. It’s a neighborhood of primly painted houses next to houses with boarded windows. Yards of ragged trees and ragged lawns stand next to abandoned lots full of weeds and wildflowers. In the middle of the afternoon a man might sit in a concrete culvert with a rifle, waiting for God knows what, or he might push a baby stroller down the middle of the street. In the summer the neighborhood smells of raw sewage. In early spring it smells of orange blossoms and jasmine. It’s a rough place. Like most of the rough places in this part of the country, it also can be beautiful.

            I set my earlier books in Chicago, where I grew up, but when I decided to write a new series of crime thrillers here, I gravitated to Blue Avenue. It’s the kind of place where a body might rot in the sun for a day or two before anyone reports it. And, like the blues, the street name evokes pain and also joy. It’s the color of a bruise. In the evening and early morning, it tinges noir. And those are the colors of my books.

            The characters in Blue Avenue include a middle-aged, middle-class white vigilante; the black woman who long ago was his first girlfriend; his wife, who loves and hates him; his son, who loves and hates him more; an ageless man with tear-trail scars on his cheeks and a penchant for extreme justice; and a homicide detective with problems of his own. They all belong to Blue Avenue.

            Having grown up in a part of the country with short summers and a short recorded history, I’ve found Jacksonville fascinating – a hot place full of tensions, full of stories in which the past twists and turns around the present. Here, nature eats uncared-for houses in a matter of a few years. Hurricanes sometimes destroy the coast to the north and south but haven’t hit the city in over a half century, as if they’ve been afraid of that the city might punch back. The Timucua Indians, the Spanish, the French Huguenots, the English, and Americans have lived and fought here. Hundreds of creeks, streams, and rivers feed and flood the land. Drive into an unfamiliar neighborhood and you’ll find yourself in a tangle of streets that seem to have no outlet. Jacksonville is the perfect place to get lost in a maze of time and geography. It’s the perfect place for a crime story.

Or two or three or more. The next two books in my new series, Second Skin and Tar Box, come out in Fall 2015 and Spring 2016. The characters live and die in other parts of the city – along old trucking routes, in mansions with big swimming pools, and on coastal barrier islands. But they still get the blues.


Michael Wiley
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The story behind Ghost Image by Ellen Crosby

My husband believes I’m the luckiest author he knows or else I’m psychic. Every time I write a new book, the subject I’m researching either shows up in the news or I run into an expert who knows exactly what I need to know, whether it’s lie detectors, herbalism, or chemical weapons. Even better, that person is always willing to help me commit murder. But with Ghost Image, my latest mystery, there was a new twist: almost all of my research involved eating.

            The idea for the story began with an NPR book review of The Founding Gardeners: The Revolutionary Generation, Nature, and the Shaping of the American Nation by Andrea Wulf, which is the fascinating account of the Founding Fathers’ passion—actually, their obsession—with agriculture and gardening and how it shaped the early history of the United States. A few weeks later I read an article in Smithsonian magazine about the Millennium Seed Bank, a vast underground vault in the English countryside where nearly 25% of the world’s seeds lie in (very) cold storage.

            The notion of preserving seeds for future generations got me wondering about seeds from the past, and how long something so fragile and perishable could survive. I asked a landscaper friend with an interest in history and a few days later he turned up at my house with a sheaf of papers and the answer to my question. Over coffee he told me he’d contacted someone at the Millennium Seed Bank and learned that under the right conditions, seeds could be preserved for centuries, even millennia.

            In Ghost Image, Sophie Medina, an American photojournalist who recently moved to Washington, D.C. after working for a news agency in London, is now a successful freelance photographer. As a favor to her friend Brother Kevin Boyle, a Franciscan friar and controversial environmentalist, Sophie reluctantly agrees to photograph a society wedding between an Austrian archduke and a senator’s daughter. At their engagement party Sophie soon realizes there is trouble between the couple and the next day Kevin confides to Sophie that research for a new book led him to uncover a botanical secret potentially worth millions. A few hours later Kevin is found dead in the gardens of a magnificent monastery tucked away in a working-class neighborhood of Washington. The only clue to his secret is a valuable 17th century encyclopedia of plants written by an English botanist.

            Sophie comes across this book after visiting Kevin’s former study carrel at the Library of Congress, where my husband’s cousin also happens to work. I called in a family favor and a few days later he arranged for a private tour of the gorgeous Art Deco Science and Business Reading Room in the John Adams Building, where Kevin would have done his research. When the tour was over we adjourned to an outdoor café on Capitol Hill for lunch.

            Though Kevin’s book is a real encyclopedia that I stumbled over on the Internet, I knew little about determining the value or provenance of a rare book. Fortunately an artist friend had just met someone at a charity auction who did know all about this subject, which is how I came to have lunch in Georgetown with her and Dr. Martin Gammon, Vice President of Bonhams, the British auction house, as well as the rare book expert for Antiques Roadshow.

            Research, more research. I’m a journalist so it’s important to me to get things right. I knew I needed to know more about preserving old seeds, so it was back to the Internet where I landed on the Monticello website and their Center for Historic Plants a few days before an already scheduled trip to Charlottesville to attend the Virginia Book Festival. I e-mailed a friend at Monticello who had helped with an earlier book and was soon introduced to Peggy Cornett, a historic plants expert and Monticello’s Curator of Plants. My husband just shook his head when I told him about yet another magical instance of good luck and perfect timing. A few days later on a cold late March morning Peggy gave me a private tour of Jefferson’s 1000-foot garden, which led to one of my favorite scenes in Ghost Image. Though we didn’t manage to have a meal, I still count it as food research: Jefferson only grew vegetables in his amazing garden.

            Although I had most of the plot for my book figured out, I still needed a way to tie the past—seeds owned by the Founding Fathers—and the present together. Since Sophie lived in Washington, D.C., I started researching the history of the creation of that city, which was fraught with political backstabbing and acrimony, particularly between George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. At the heart of their disagreement was the plan for the city drawn up by Pierre L’Enfant, Washington’s protégé. At my local library I came across Grand Avenues: The Story of the French Visionary Who Designed Washington, D.C., an engrossing and well-written biography of Pierre L’Enfant by Scott Berg. When I read Berg’s own biography in the front of the book, I discovered he was a neighbor: he taught English at George Mason University about fifteen minutes from where I live. A critique group friend who was also an English professor at Mason made the introduction and soon afterwards I met Scott for breakfast. Our far-reaching conversation and our meal ended just before lunchtime.

            By now I knew that part of the story had to take place in London, Sophie’s old home and also mine for five wonderful years. Former neighbors in north London offered their guest room and a few weeks before I left for England I got in touch with my friend at Monticello to discuss Ghost Image. “Ellen,” she said, “you ought to read a book by a friend of mine, Andrea Wulf. She lives in London.”

            Though Andrea was busy taping a gardening show for the BBC, we met while I was in town and, yes, you guessed it, she suggested we get together for a meal. Over breakfast at a trendy restaurant in Notting Hill she answered my questions and helped pull together a few loose plot strands. Before I left, she signed my now well-worn copy of her book: To Ellen, I love to bring facts into mysteries. To the Founding Gardeners. Andrea Wulf.

            Two days later I flew home and my research had now come full circle. The only thing left to do: write the book.


Ellen Crosby
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REVIEW : Carus and Mitch by Tim Major

 

Tim Major is one of those authors who has been brought to my attention by a supreme British science fiction and fantasy magazine "Interzone". His "Finding Waltzer-Three" was simply superb and even though it was only two and half pages long I was taken back by how good it was. Needless to say it was my favourite story in that particular issue. In February Major published his novella "Carus & Mitch" which occupies a rather different place than the abovementioned story. To put things in perspective, it is a claustrophobic tale of two young girls who ever since their mother disappeared spend their lives in isolation and constant state of fright of what's lurking outside their doors.

Their precarious existence is marred by an undescribed event that occurred in the past. Nothing much is clearly explained but when Carus' memories pour through she's reminded of screaming and rising waters. Mitch on the other hand is still being an ordinary child unfazed by imposed restrictions. She questions her environment and is even curious enough to ask all those disturbing questions which in the end only serve to infuriate Carus. She's even unafraid to venture outside when answers aren't forthcoming and one of her expeditions leads her to discover stash of food hidden inside their garage. So what's really happening? I won't reveal what occurs next but as events progress a sense of doubt creeps into the version of the story delivered by Major. Are things really as they initially seem? It's a masterstroke that made me re-read the whole thing as soon as I've finished it - just in hope of finding more clues that I potentially missed first time around.

"Carus & Mitch" is a quick but totally intoxicating read. It delivers far more excitement and ambiance than you would expect from a story of that length and this serves as a best way to show the extent of Major's writing potential. I'm already looking forward for his future work but until then - a "Carus & Mitch" re-read anyone?


Review copy provided by Tim Major.
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REVIEW : The Scarlet Gospels by Clive Barker

 

After being in work for many many years, Clive Barker's long expected new novel "The Scarlet Gospels" is finally here and the results are not what you would expect. If I remember correctly, I've read somewhere that Barker mentioned it as far back as 1993 and over the years many claims were made about its content. On one hand it was supposed to be a Barker book to end all Barker books, pushing over 232,000 words, rich in mythology and combining elements and characters from all across his canon in one massive door-stopper. Later reports mentioned that it has been scaled by significantly. Personally, I've kept my expectations in check. First version sounded a bit too ambitious and the horror as a genre has changed a lot in recent times. For me the worst possible scenario was that Barker will try to bring his characters up to contemporary standards in a way I don't like. In hindsight, I shouldn't have worried. "The Scarlet Gospels" is a surprisingly old-fashioned horror novel. It plays for maximum amount scars without using any fancy frills. Straight from the opening pages it brought be back to childhood when I was positively devouring this sort of stuff.

"The Scarlet Gospels" features two of is best loved characters and pushed them against each other. On one hand there's detective Harry D'Amour who's probably familiar to you from "Everville" and the short story "The Last Illusion" while on the other its none other than the iconic Cenobite Hell Priest Pinhead. Story recounts how the two originally met and their first encounter explains a lot about Harry's psyche. Pinhead had huge plans for him but someone Harry managed to resist him. Back in present Pinhead is up to his usual tricks and Harry's friend, blind medium Norma Paine is end up in hell after during one their investigations a Lament configuration box opens a gateway to hell. Harry is desperate and soon his ragtag band which compromises some familiar faces decides to go through the deepest recesses of hell to save her but Pinhead stands in their way. The sequences set in hell are some of the finest that Barker has put to paper.

 

"The Scarlet Gospels" is first Clive Barker's novel for adults in 8 years and it will instantly appeal to his constant readers. While it can be read as a standalone it's best enjoyed if you're passionate about his work so far. In that case, "The Scarlet Gospels" is a veritable treasure trove of details that explain and enrich many elements of the madcap world he's created. More importantly, "The Scarlet Gospels" is a proper, blood curdling classic horror novel that's been missing for years and that's all you can ask of it really. I've enjoyed it tremendously so here's hoping we won't have to wait another 8 years for the next one. Welcome back Pinhead, we missed you!


Review copy provided by Pan Macmillan
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REVIEW : A Cold Killing by Anna Smith

 

One of our favourite crime reporters Rosie Gilmour is back in her fifth novel "A Cold Killing" and this haven't been this bad in ages. Story opens up in London's King's Cross in 1999 as Ruby Reilly sits in a caffe thinking murderous thoughts and overhears the conversation of two old guys. She hears more than she's supposed to and from that point on her life changes. Later, University lecturer Tom Mahoney was brutally shot without any obvious reason. The whole situation looks suspiciously like an organised hit and Rosie goes head deep into an initially baffling investigation. There's a witness who has gone missing and this just might be a key Rosie needs to break in. Ruby has all the reasons to keep away. As Rosie uncovers more and more clues about Mahoney's past, the sinister truth starts to rear its ugly head, one which is far more frightening than she ever dared to imagine. Ministry of Defence and MI6 are involved, but in a worst possible way, and now even her life in danger unless she manages to uncover the truth.

The reason Anna Smith's Rosie Gilmour's series is so appealing to me is that she never writes clear cut stories with easily approachable characters and bland morality. Often when Rosie is concerned even as the ending comes I'm never quite sure what has actually happened - whether the good guys won and not. And then there's that element of feeling safe which is completely lacking. Anna is simply keeping it dangerous all the time,even when Rosie is concerned. With the amount of trouble she gets in I always feel like she's about to die in the most horrific manner possible. She occupies such an ugly world filled with some of the most despicable characters you'll ever meet so I wouldn't put anything past them.



Most frightening thing of all is that lots of the experiences that Rosie goes through are based on actual life experience of Anna Smith. She herself is an award-winning crime reporter who has assignment during some of the toughest conflicts of recent times including Kosovo and Rwanda. She was even held hostage once. All this gives her stories that authentic feel that sets her apart from her contemporaries. "A Cold Killing" is an excellent new addition to a great series. Very recommended.


Review copy provided by Quercus Books.
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The story behind Losing Faith by Adam Mitzner

The two questions I’m asked about my books most often are the two I find most difficult to answer. The first one is the most basic: “What is it about?” Yet that question throws me almost every time it’s posed because two answers simultaneously pop into my head: the one I give, which resembles the blurb on the back of the book; and the one I feel.

            When the question is asked to me about my most recent novel, Losing Faith:

I say: Losing Faith is about a lawyer named Aaron Littman who runs the most powerful law firm in New York City. He’s approached by a new client, a shady Russian businessman named Nicolai Garkov, who is accused of securities fraud and suspected of terrorism. Garkov has discovered that Aaron and the judge presiding over his case, Faith Nichols, had an extra-marital affair, and Garkov wants to use the threat of the affair to blackmail Aaron and the judge. The book concerns Aaron struggle to save his career and family.

But I feel: Losing Faith is about the people we love, the strength of our love for those people, and what we’re willing to do to protect them.

            This disconnect is at the heart of the writing process. When I conceive of a book, I’m not thinking about the plot, or the murder, or who done it, or the twists that I hope send the reader in the wrong direction only to have them shocked when the truth is revealed. Rather, I’m focused on who is protagonist, what does he or she want most, and the transformative nature of that quest.

            With Losing Faith, before writing a single word or conceiving of a single character, I knew that I wanted to explore the lengths someone might go to keep what he had, and whether the people who loved him would stand by him when everything collapses – especially if the downfall was due to self-inflicted wounds.

            Once I have the theme in my mind, I try to craft a story around it. One of the ways I measure the finished product is whether the novel conveys the themes in the way that I initially envisioned them. I think I did that in Losing Faith, but like with all writing, my opinion matters much less than that of the reader.

            The other question that gives me equal pause is just as basic: “Is the novel autobiographical.” And as with the “What’s the book about?” question, I once again have competing thoughts.

The first response is that it is a work of fiction, and so the characters, particularly the main character, is not me or anyone else in real-life, and the events are 100% the product of my imagination. Applying this rule to Losing Faith demonstrates its truth: Although like Aaron Littman, I am a practicing attorney in New York City, I differ from him because I am not the chairman of the most powerful law firm in the country, none of my clients are suspected Russian terrorists, and I have never had an extramarital affair with a beautiful judge or had a client threaten to ruin my career or marriage.

            If I ended the analysis there, I could pass any polygraph with saying “No, Losing Faith is not autobiographical.” But, of course, there’s more to it than that. Much more.

When I write about a character’s fear of losing what he has, I’m thinking about my own fears, and when I write about the lengths someone will go to protect a loved one, I’m thinking about how far I’d go, and how far I think those that love me would go for me. Of course, the conclusions my characters reach, and the actions that they undertake in the novel, are not necessarily how I would think, feel or act in that situation, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that when I consider a character’s response to a situation, I start with what I’d do if I were them. From there, however, I consider all the ways the characters are different from me, and craft a response that is true for that character.

So to recap: Losing Faith is about the blackmail of a powerful lawyer by a shady Russian terrorist, and also about so much more; and it is a work of pure fiction and also autobiographical.


Emily Schultz
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The story behind The Blondes by Emily Schultz

When a work goes well, I think that maybe it was given to me. I don’t think about consciously constructing it. When it goes badly, it is mine and all the mistakes are mine too. With The Blondes, it did feel found — in many ways. I was on an airplane with my husband, heading for JFK Airport in New York. Flipping through a Vanity Fair magazine someone had stashed in the seat pocket, I came across the Gucci ad that would inspire the next 400 pages I would write. Vampiric, menacing, and beautiful, a group of all-blonde women in safari wear made their way through a jungle. Although I opted for a New York City setting instead of a tropical forest, this was the image that would lead me to write about a disease that affects only women—in particular only blondes—turning them rabid.

Of course, there were many conversations that led up to that moment and that wound their way into the book. Hair is personal. A friend once told me that his whole life would be different if only he’d had good hair, and I remember a girl I grew up with saying that no one liked her because she was a redhead. I was always self-conscious of my hair: wearing it short suited me but put me at odds with the other little girls, and wearing it long made it thick and unmanageable but allowed me to disappear into the crowd. Many times as a young person, I feared myself becoming Mr. It on the Addams Family. For my thirtieth birthday I went blonde for the first time—how people treated me differently definitely crept into The Blondes a few years later.

My husband promised me a writing retreat in the desert and we lived for several weeks in a cabin not far from Joshua Tree. There I wrote most of the first draft. There was a real sense of isolation, and the army base just over the mountain may have played into some of the middle of the novel, where the character Hazel Hayes is sent off to a quarantine guarded by soldiers. As the plague in The Blondes escalates, and Hazel flees from one place to another, technology keeps fading away and her communications are limited. That seemed to me to be one of the scariest things I could do to her in this ever-connected age. But it may have come out of the cabin experience too—we had no internet, an inconsistent cell phone, and the nearest internet café was a 20 mile drive.

Hazel is pregnant (by her married thesis advisor) and alone throughout much of the book. She’s uncertain of what to do. I was at an age where I was deciding if parenthood would fit into my life. Although our circumstances were vastly different, I faced many of the same questions as Hazel: what does it mean to be a mother, can I provide for someone, will this define me as a person or limit me in my career, will it harm my body, will it make me someone else? I wanted to show the body horror and the trepidation of pregnancy, not just the glow that we always hear about. I had never been pregnant when I wrote Hazel in her dilemma, and all the details of her pregnancy, which gestates alongside the epidemic. But by the time I wrote the second and third drafts I was just weeks away from the birth of my son. The book is dedicated to him. In some ways, he was found through this process too, because I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted until I came to the end of the novel.


Emily Schultz
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The story behind What She Left by T. R. Richmond

When I was a student, I could never understand people who’d work into the early hours.
I was always brain dead by about 7pm. If I had an assignment to finish, I’d take the opposite approach: I’d get an early night then get up at the crack of dawn.
That pattern was the one that guided my approach to writing What She Left. The hours of 5.30am to 8.30am are my most productive. My head is clear and uncluttered. I can get up and hit the keyboard running – obviously with the benefit of a coffee (a large black Americano if you’re buying, thanks).

Like a lot of authors, I’ve got a day-job, so this routine was also driven by necessity. But that brief window of time at the start of the day was precious. It was non-negotiable, sacrosanct. There were probably only a handful of days in the two years I was working on the book when I didn’t write anything. I had to keep the momentum going.
While routine is vital to me, it was ironically a break in my usual routine that actually got me started. I was away with work – staying for a week on my own in a hotel in Bristol. I wasn’t even intending to write any fiction that week. But I woke up one morning, sat at the desk and drafted the first chapter. By the time I returned home at the end of the week, five writing sessions later, I had 5000 words.
Those 5000 words went through many, many edits and probably only a quarter of them made in into the final version in any shape or form – but as the old saying goes, if you haven’t got anything written, you haven’t got anything to edit. They were the bedrock of the novel.

I’d had the germ of the idea for the book shortly before, when I saw a tweet from someone about the song they’d like played at their funeral. That got me wondering what else might I be able to learn about that person online, which eventually led me to the concept of constructing a whole story from a dead woman’s paper and digital “footprint”.
There are lots of good reasons why people begin writing books but never finish them. I quickly became obsessed with What She Left, however, and if I didn’t work on it every day I felt guilty.
Besides, once you’re in the meaty heart of a novel, you get to know your characters so well that you can really see and hear them. I felt duty bound to see their stories through to the end.
So I found a routine that suited me and stuck to it. It was hard work, but I’m not complaining. I loved doing it and a lot of jobs are a damn sight harder than writing. Ask someone who digs roads or stands on a factory line.
I subsequently worked on it for more than six months very closely with my agent. Then, when it was 50% written, we showed it to an editor at Penguin. We did the deal, had a glass of bubbly – then I got up early the next morning and carried on writing. I had a book to finish, after all…


T. R. Richmond
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REVIEW : Rook Song by Naomi Foyle

 

Naomi Foyle's "Astra" is one of the books that I'm growing fonder of as more time passes by. There's something about Naomi's style that I find instantly appealing and despite the fact that I've initial found "Astra's" overuse of prefixes and acronyms slightly distracting I eventually got used to them. I liked the way she tackled difficult social issues so the next instalment of Astra's coming of age tale couldn't come soon enough for me. If you remember, the world she lives in is a fragmented post-apocalyptic society where misinformation and propaganda rule. It's an advanced society but one scarred by the environmental mistakes of the past. Since her young age Astra has been prepared for her place in a society only to have everything turned upside down. So "Astra", the novel, revolved mostly around her struggle to rediscover herself but being only the first book in a proposed trilogy it left more issues open than resolved.

Recent published second part of "The Gaia Chronicles" follows on from its predecessor and finds Astra working for Council of New Continents or CONC. Her job isn't anything glamorous but it's crucial for her well-being. She's still suffering from the effects of genital branding and preventive Memory Pacification Treatment. Despite everything Astra has retained her impressive drive and rebellious nature and the only thing that occupies her waking hours is her quest to avenge the death of her Shelter mother Hokma. And if possible at all, she also wants to find her Code father. But as she stumbles once again into a web of intrigue she quickly realises that nothing much has changed. Apart from CONC, there's three other fractions struggling to secure the political power. There's notorious Is-Land Ministry of Border Defence (IMBOD), N-LA and YAC. This is still a very disorienting environment that has much more depth than was initially obvious.

Similarly to its predecessor, Astra's search for her own identity forms a central part of "Rook Song". As more and more avenues are closed for her, Astra grows increasingly agitated with her environment but she doesn't despair. If anything, she grows more feral. For a middle book in a trilogy "Rook Song" offers a surprisingly good read. It reveals just enough to keep you hungry for a sequel but yet it is not frustrating when it decides to withdraw. What's still slightly frustrating is that the amount of acronyms and character is occasionally overwhelming. Luckily similarly to "Astra" this is only a minor inconvenience because as soon as you get into the character all these become logical and usable. What more important is that "Rook Song" is better book than "Astra" in a similar way that "Astra" was better than "Seoul Survivors". Naomi's writing feels more confident and earlier in a book she goes completely experimental with the way she tell the story. In one of Asar's chapters words and font sizes go in all directions. It is truly fascinating to discover how richly detailed her world is. The amount of planning she put into "The Gaia Chronicles" must've been immense and she utterly unafraid to tackle its complexity head on. As such, "Rook Song" is brave and unexpected. It is one of those literary sf books that don't play for the masses and that are sadly often undeservedly overlooked. So, if you like your SF intelligent and stimulating do yourself a favour and pick up both "Astra" and "Rook Song". You won't regret it.


Review copy provided by Jo Fletcher Books.
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REVIEW : Red Icon by Sam Eastland

 

In my review of "The Beast in the Red Forest", previous book in Inspector Pekkala series, I proclaimed my belief that there's every possibility that crime thrillers set in places like Russia or former communist countries could be the genre's great next thing. Though as of yet this hasn't happened, Eastland's Inspector Pekkala series is increasingly becoming of paramount importance for this uncharted territory. Eastland's novel as just great. Stalin's Russia places interesting restrictions on his characters and the way plot unravels is refreshingly innovative. To make things even better Eastland has done his fair share of researching the period in question so his novels, apart from being a rather exciting read even when based on the stories alone, also feel quite authentic. Sixth novel in the series, "Red Icon", just published by Faber Books, offers more of the same and it's such a pleasure to once again encounter our intrepid inspector for whom the trouble is never far behind.

"Red Icon" takes place during 1945 as the German army is on the verge of a full blown retreat. During all this chaos Captain Antonin Proskuryakov and Sergeant Ovchinikov who find themselves in Ahlborn in Germany, some 70 km from Berlin, seek refuge in the crypt of a German church after their tank is destroyed by a mine, only to discover a skeleton of a priest. In his hands priest is clutching The Shepherd, an icon last seen in the possession of Rasputin. The tumultuous history of the icon is described as the story goes back to 1914 where Pekkala is tasked with guarding the icon while being on the Tsar's court. This fascinating thread which occupies the first part of the book is vintage Eastland, rich in historical detail and twisted plotlines. Back in 1945, news of the The Shepherd's discovery spreads fast and soon Stalin sends inspector Pekkala to unravel the truth behind the legend, making a full circle of events. Over the course of his investigation Pekkala will discover the whereabouts of long thought extinct band of fanatics who are after The Shepherd and claim it as their own. The reappearance of icon, together with a fearsome chemical weapon called Sartaman which stems from Hitler and IG Farben, means that, unless Pekkala manages to stop them, there are dark times ahead.



"Red Icon" strikes a somewhat different tone that of its predecessor "The Beast in the Red Forest" by being somehow less glum and more adventurous. This is especially evident by the appearance of this immensely powerful chemical compound in the second half of the novel which forces Pekkala's move on more than one occasion. This time the stakes are much higher than ever before and this later part stands at odds with the beginning set in 1915. But I've mentioned earlier, this is simply a vintage Eastland. "Red Icon" opens a new chapter for Pekkala and offers plenty to engage the existing reader while at the same time being a perfect starting point for new ones.


Review copy provided by Faber Books.
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The story behind Woman of the Dead by Bernhard Aichner

I was fifteen when I first dreamt of being an internationally published author. I published my first book when I was twenty-eight. It was well received in Germany and Austria, as were my next books, but I still dreamt of being read in England, in America, in Scandinavia.

By 2013, I had written what I thought was my break-out book, Woman of the Dead. Luckily, I was right and it is now being published in twelve countries. I grew up reading American thrillers – my heroes are Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn and Stephen King. So imagine my delight when I shared a stage last month in Norway with Lisa Gardner – who has called Woman of the Dead ‘one of the most arresting thrillers I’ve read in years’ – and Peter James, who joked that I was Austria’s most famous living author. Now I’m being published by the same people who published Gone Girl, and there is a lot of talk in the UK about German-language crime becoming the new ‘Scandicrime’. It is a dream come true.

How did I know I’d written my break-out book? I just had the sense that this story – a story of revenge starring Blum, an undertaker whose husband is murdered – was the most complete, most distinctive and ambitious book I had written. Woman of the Dead is both a thriller and a love story. Blum, like Jeff Lindsay’s Dexter, is a serial killer, a character who does terrible things, but the novel wouldn’t work if you didn’t sympathise with her and feel her pain.

To make this work, I needed to get under Blum’s skin and feel what drives her, and to do that I asked myself whether I could ever kill. The answer wasn’t the one I was expecting – I was unnerved to find that I could imagine myself contemplating revenge if I was in terrible amounts of pain; if something had happened to my wife or children.

Like most writers of crime fiction, I have always been fascinated by the taboos around death. For my previous novels, I had talked to gravediggers and forensic scientists; I’d spent afternoons walking around cemeteries. But to write Woman of the Dead, I realised I had to get even closer to death. Let me explain: I wanted Blum to be an undertaker. That worked from a plot point of view: I wanted her to have a way of disposing of her bodies without attracting undue attention. But I also wanted to write about death from an unusual angle – all crime fiction comes down to death but I wanted to write something different; something darker. So I went to an undertaker in my home town of Innsbruck and asked whether she could give me an introduction to the world of the dead. She said she would but only if I didn’t just stand around watching and taking notes; only if I got involved. I worked for that undertaker for six months. It was the most humbling thing I have ever done.

I enjoyed my time with Blum so much that I couldn’t stop at one novel. The second book in what is now a trilogy is coming out in Germany later this year. I very much hope you enjoy reading about Blum as much as I am enjoying writing about her.


Bernhard Aichner
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The story behind The Detective's Secret by Lesley Thomson

I begin my writing process with an image. For this novel, the image was a windmill on the Sussex Downs with windows inserted beneath the sails. Anyone living there could see for miles.

In my twenties I read Victorian philosopher Jeremy Bentham’s description of an economically efficient prison. His ‘Panopticon’ was a tower with cells fanning out around it. No guard need be in the tower since the windows would be screened, prisoners couldn’t tell who was up there. Yet, Bentham believed, they would assume that they were under surveillance and behave accordingly.

In their paper The Panopticon’s Changing Geography (2007) Jerome E Dobson and Peter E Fisher identify three waves of surveillance technology. ‘Panopticon I’ is Bentham’s concept. ‘Panopticon II’ is George Orwell’s 1948 novel, Nineteen Eighty-Four, envisaging how television might be used by a totalitarian government. Now, we’re in ‘Panopticon III’. Many of us accept trackers on our mobile phones, CCTV on our streets and barcodes revealing how we shop. We tacitly consent to being watched.

Facebook is a window into other lives. We watch each other.

Both of my characters are observers. Stella Darnell owns a cleaning business called Clean Slate, so she can closely observe more homes, offices and other buildings than is possible in most jobs. As the series title, The Detective’s Daughter, suggests, Stella’s father Terry was a detective with the Metropolitan police. I made Stella a cleaner because she enters rooms that, like crime scenes, are disrupted and a mess and, as Terry did, she restores order. In The Detective’s Secret, Stella adds ‘detection’ to services offered by Clean Slate.

Her side-kick, Jack Harmon, is a train driver. Bringing his train into stations, Jack observes his soon-to-be passengers waiting on platforms. He rarely speaks to them, but knows them by their behaviour, attire and their facial expressions. A nocturnal flâneur, Jack randomly walks night-time streets populated by phantoms, a quietened city of shadows and receding footsteps. Yet nothing Jack does is random. Entering the mind of a murderer, he hunts out those who have murdered or who will murder.

I realised that if Jack lived in a tower he could watch London. What kind of tower? Not a high-rise block of flats, because I want him to be alone. West London has plenty of parks and commons, but I’d be stretching credibility to place a windmill by the Thames at Chiswick, where my story is set. Driving along the Kew Road - on tower alert - I spotted the water tower in Kew Gardens, built to supply the Palm House. Water towers are used to store water for different purposes, domestic, commercial or botanical, and as I now know, are in cities all over Britain.

I had found Jack’s Panopticon. From his tower he will watch for murderers.

The Detective’s Secret is about betrayal and revenge. How we fall short of others’ expectations and how we might respond to those who let us down. I write about our darker sides. I say ‘our’ because the good are sometimes bad and the bad can be good.

An eclectic genre, crime fiction allows me to explore a broad range of themes and ideas. Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, Christie’s Miss Marple and Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey are some of my early influences. Like Wimsey and Marple, my character Stella Darnell is an ‘unofficial’ detective, although unlike them she has a day job.

The London of my novels owes much to Dickens, another inspiration. Twisting alleyways, leafy streets and Thames towpaths are wreathed in fog. Cobblestones and worn flagstones, slick with rain, shimmer in sallow pools of lamplight. The Detective’s Secret is set between the Great Storm of 1987 and the 2013 St Jude storm. The Thames endures across the centuries, its currents strong enough to carry a body out to the sea.

My work is influenced by psycho-geography, the emotional relationship of individuals to the city in which they live and walk. Landscape holds our hopes and dreams, disappointments and tragedies, we have an inner map of our desired paths. Stella and Jack navigate such paths through London, each haunted by childhood memories and impressions embedded in streets, in brickwork and the patina of pavements. Researching The Detective’s Secret, I walked the area, Corney Road and the cemetery opposite it, along the river and beside the Great West Road. I lingered outside houses where my characters live and imagined them inside. Fiction merged with reality. I was walking my story.

The well-worn advice to ‘write about what you know’ is only partially true. I’m frequently asked if I’m as skilled a cleaner as Stella is. I am not. My study is often lightly festooned with cobwebs and my desk greyed with dust. When I finish a novel I have a ‘Stella’ flurry and whisk about with a mop and a duster, otherwise the cleaning in my novels is outside my experience.

Growing up, I travelled everywhere on the London Underground. The smell of warm dust, the percussive clatter of the wheels and the hush of train doors are in my bones. I gave Jack a role I dreamt of doing. He drives on the District line, choosing the ‘dead-late’ shift because he likes the night and the tunnels. Jack is intuitive and, to Stella’s practical mind, fanciful. Yet they are perfectly matched and together they solve crimes.

My stories include coincidences. Researching for The Detective’s Daughter, I experienced two coincidences more implausible than anything I invent.

I approached the British Water Tower Appreciation Society – that such an organisation exists is extraordinary enough - and discovered that it was run by a man I grew up with, we played in the streets and parks of my stories. Nat Bocking sent a reading list that propelled me into the history of the pros and cons of water tower construction.

The second coincidence. I told an old friend about my water tower novel and she said that her brother, the designer Tom Dixon, had bought one in West London and converted it into flats. Tom lent me the key.

One summer morning - in the liminal state between reality and fiction that I enter when creating a story - I climbed a metal staircase at the side of the tower and with trepidation - I’m not great with heights any more than cleaning - unlocked the tower.

Tom had told me that the roof offered a three hundred and sixty degree view of London. The skylight was heavy and wouldn’t budge. I persisted and was nearly concussed when I lifted it then let it bang shut. I couldn’t give up. Using my vestiges of strength I heaved it up and staggered out onto the roof. The skylight stayed upright, threatening any moment to close. Under a hot sun, I constructed a scene in my notebook where Stella cannot open the hatch, but must or the consequences are terrible. I absorbed sound and lack of sounds, no bird song, no human voices, an occasional horn from traffic far below. In ‘reality’ if the hatch shut I would be trapped. As happens in fiction, my phone battery died. No one would hear me shout. I scribbled furiously. I was Stella trying to open the hatch.

A week later I was in more trouble. Chiswick Mall is a secluded street of Victorian mansions that, like much of this area, is timeless. At low tide, the Eyot opposite is connected to the ‘mainland’ by a cobblestoned causeway crossing an expanse of mud. When the river fills it becomes an island. I trudged around the Eyot, dipping beneath willow fronds and parting reeds, taking pictures on my phone (a reason why the battery fails). I was Jack following his secret path to the Garden of the Dead. Photographs provide a record of the topography, street corners and ramps, colours and textures, although when writing I may change these details. I find clues in the images. I too am a detective.

I heard shouting. A man was waving from Chiswick Mall, his words lost in the breeze rattling the reeds.

‘…tide...is…!’

The slick of water, which had been a hundred metres distant when I arrived, was about to cut me off. Semaphoring thanks, I stumbled, skidding and tripping, to the causeway, tight-rope walking it as water washed over the cobblestones. Deep in my unfolding story, I had ignored the rhythmic lapping of the tide returning. By the time I got to the Mall, the causeway was submerged, a ripple of conflicting currents indicated a shadow path. Write about what you know. I put this experience into The Detective’s Secret.

Reality becomes fiction. I moved the water tower from Ladbroke Grove to the Thames overlooking Chiswick Eyot. At night it casts a shadow over the black waters of the Thames.

From his Panopticon, Jack surveys London. No one knows he is watching. Or so he thinks.


Lesley Thomson
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The story behind House of Echoes by Brendan Duffy

House of Echoes began with both an image and a feeling. The image was of a man watching his dog run through an overgrown field in front of a dilapidated mansion. The feeling was the man’s certainty that he doesn’t belong there.

This initial flash became the book’s first scene, and this sense of alienation became central to the novel. Through the course of the book, the chief characters—Ben and Caroline Tierney and their eccentric son, Charlie—feel increasingly estranged from their peculiar home, the odd denizens of the nearby village, and each other. House of Echoes is a thriller with tinges of horror and crime and winks at gothic conventions, but for me the crux of the story is this young family and how their lives and relationships descend into distrust, fear, and madness.

In some ways, these characters bring the worst of their problems with them when they abandon Manhattan in their search for a fresh start. They arrive in Swannhaven, a tiny village in a remote corner of New York State. Their home, the Crofts, is massive, decrepit, and filled with secrets.

World-building is generally associated with fantasy and science fiction books, but I loved the challenge of creating a place that’s both grounded in our reality and governed by its own rules. For me, the key was developing a setting at once evocative, familiar, and flexible. An old house surrounded by dense forests, a village with a bloody history, characters who have no clue what they’re getting themselves into: this is a classic setup. Once you establish readers’ expectations you can begin to subvert them. That’s when the fun starts.

The onset of a blizzard is one of plot’s catalysts and I’ve always found winter especially rich in atmosphere. I’ve lived a lot of my life in cities, but went to college in Central New York and have spent a good deal of time in Western Massachusetts. Winter is serious business in these places. A bad storm can drop yards of snow and knock out your power and heat, trapping you not just in your home but within an expired century. The season’s first snow always gives me a thrill, both of anticipation and of dread. These cold months can be desolate and claustrophobic, but there’s also something fantastical about them: the way sound changes as it reverberates among frozen trees, how sunlight and moonlight are caught and amplified by snow and ice. As a setting, it’s both beautiful and pregnant with danger.

All of the main characters in House of Echoes evolve through the narrative, but perhaps none of them undergo more of a change than the Tierney’s eight-year-old son, Charlie. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I think he’s my favorite. He’s an unusual kid: vulnerable but strong. Smart yet lost. He finds himself (and other things…) over the course of many hours spent exploring the old growth forests around the Crofts. Many of the book’s early readers had young children of their own, and a universal concern among them was how long of a leash Ben and Caroline give young Charlie. An eight year old allowed to wander the forest for hours on his own. Um, no, I don’t think so. I made some tweaks accordingly. What I didn’t realize until the end of the revision process was that in writing about Charlie’s experiences in his mysterious forest, I was replicating an element from my own childhood. From ages 7-10, I lived on the slope of a mountain where we didn’t receive any television signals. I filled my afternoons exploring overgrown footpaths lined by nettles, collecting eggs from stagnant ponds, and building dams along seasonal streams. Like Charlie, I’d just moved from a huge city and this vast, strange, natural space seemed to belong on another planet. His were the perfect eyes through which to witness the wild beauty of the forest and mountains.

Writing from Charlie’s perspective was a huge amount of fun. He’s a special age, one when the lines between fantasy and reality have not yet solidified. Huge, impossible creatures in the forest can be just as real and frightening and unfathomable as a mother’s anger. A dreamer like Charlie is fun to write because he can imagine and believe in both miracles and terrors.

Though, as he and the rest of his family eventually learn, some terrors are all too real.


Brendan Duffy
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The story behind The Missing Piece by Kevin Egan

            The idea for The Missing Piece came from a trial I observed while working as a law clerk for a judge. The trial had everything: excellent lawyers, high-powered litigants, cutting-edge issues (both legal and scientific), and a hair-raising back story of inadmissible allegations.

            Here is the dispute in a nutshell: over the course of several years, a British nobleman purchased an ancient Roman silver treasure in a series of transactions from dealers on the Middle Eastern antiquities market. The treasure consisted of fourteen urns, bowls, and plates, along with a bronze cauldron that held the treasure when it was buried – somewhere – many centuries earlier. The largest piece, a plate, was dedicated to a Roman general named Sevso, whose army was stationed in an area called Dacia during the 3rd century. Dacia is now what we know as Eastern Europe.

            The Sevso Silver was worth much more than the sum of its parts, and the owner put it up for auction at an auction house in New York City. The auction house, however, had some doubts about the treasure’s provenance, so it performed its due diligence by informing every national government in the Mediterranean Basin – the extent of the Roman Empire in the 3rd century – of the existence of the treasure. Three countries claimed the treasure belonged to them. They filed a lawsuit and obtained an injunction to stop the auction. After years of discovery and legal wrangling, the trial began in the New York County Courthouse, a building well-known from the opening credits of the Law & Order television series. The courthouse was a particularly appropriate venue for this trial because its design is based on the Roman Pantheon and its architectural flourishes are in a style known as Greek revival.

            The trial lasted six weeks and involved the presentation of interesting evidence. One country tried to match the chemical composition of soil scraped from the cauldron to the chemical composition of soil within its borders. Another tried to use art historical evidence, arguing that pieces of the treasure closely resembled the style of silver artifacts on display in its national museum. Even more interesting were the allegations of murder and political intrigue that pre-trial rulings barred from admission as being “too speculative” or “too prejudicial.” Much of this legally extraneous information was detailed in two lengthy magazine articles, one published in Vanity Fair in 1993 and the other published in the Atlantic in 2000.

            The trial ended with the owner retaining title to the treasure and me with an idea for a novel. At the time, I already had published one science fiction novel. But before I could start working on this one, I sold a cozy mystery series, which occupied my writing for several years.

            Finally, more than a dozen years after the trial ended, I tried to write the first version of The Missing Piece. It was extremely difficult for several reasons. First, the trial had been memorable, but after the passage of time I remembered few of the details. Second, though I had observed scores of trials as a law clerk, I knew nothing about the dynamics of bringing a case to trial from a litigator’s point of view. Third, even after reading the Vanity Fair and Atlantic articles, I had no idea what the characters could be doing or how they could affect the outcome of the trial. The novel petered out at the 140 page mark, and I went on to writing other things.

            A few years passed. I published another cozy mystery. That series was canceled, and I began – basically for lack of anything better to do – to write mystery short stories set in the New York County Courthouse. The stories began to sell, and I expanded one into a novel, the critically acclaimed, though lightly purchased, Midnight. Then, for my next book, I decided to screw up my courage and return to The Missing Piece.

            Like the original abandoned version, this Missing Piece opens with a courtroom invasion by masked gunmen, the theft of a treasure piece displayed as an exhibit, and the shooting of a court officer. Beyond that, this Missing Piece is much different from its original conception as a novel based upon a trial. Critical for me was the understanding that I could not write a novel with the trial being the main focus the story. The trial needed to function like a Hitchcock macguffin, that is, a circumstance that sets a different story in motion. (Does anyone remember why Janet Leigh checked into the Bates Motel? Does anyone care?) Linda Conover, who had been a law clerk during the first trial, is now the judge handling the re-trial. She also is at a crossroads in her life. Gary Martin, the injured court officer who believes that the stolen treasure piece never left the courthouse, plans to find it before the re-trial ends. And, of course, the gunmen haven’t disappeared, either.    

            So there it is. Almost 22 years after the lawyers in the Sevso Silver trial gave their opening statements, The Missing Piece is now a novel.


Kevin Egan
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The story behind Walking by Night by Kate Ellis

Walking by Night begins with an image of fog swirling around the buildings of an ancient city, muffling sound and creating an alien world in familiar surroundings. It is a disturbing, possibly frightening image but one so fitting for the story I have to tell.

My fictional Eborby, as many of my readers will realise, is based on the fog-prone city of York (known to the Romans as Eboracum) and Walking by Night is the fifth novel in my spooky detective series featuring DI Joe Plantagenet. Joe is an interesting character. A former trainee priest who abandoned his vocation for love and the police force, he is, according to family legend, descended from an illegitimate son of Richard III (who has been in the news rather a lot recently and who was regarded as a local hero in York back in the fifteenth century).

I came to know York well when my younger son was studying archaeology there and I was lucky enough to join him on a couple of excavations. One evening we decided to have a bit of fun after a hard day’s digging so we went on one of the city’s many ghost walks. As I listened to our guide, resplendent in cloak and top hat, telling his creepy supernatural tales, the idea for a new series of books popped into my mind. I listened with great interest to the stories which were to form the inspiration for Joe Plantagenet’s cases and there was one in particular that I promised myself I’d use one day – the story of the Grey Lady.

Theatres, like pubs, churches and stately homes, often have a reputation for being haunted and York’s famous Theatre Royal is no exception. The Victorian theatre was built on the site of the medieval hospital of St Leonard’s – an extensive monastic establishment that cared for the sick during the middle ages. The crypt of St Leonard’s can still be seen in the theatre basement (just as the ruins of a convent can be seen in my fictional Eborby Playhouse basement in Walking by Night) and, during the ghost walk we were told the tale of a ‘grey lady’ who is reputed to haunt the site. The traditional story tells of a young nun who was walled up alive, possibly after being accused of having an illicit love affair. Many people working at the theatre have claimed to see a little nun dressed in grey. Some had experienced unusual changes of temperature and actors had even asked if they could change dressing rooms after experiencing a sensation of being watched. As well as all this, the theatre is said to boast a second ghost; a leading actor who was, allegedly, killed in a duel.

But don’t go thinking my Joe Plantagenet books are simply ghost stories. Walking by Night is a crime novel that begins when a young woman who is walking home alone in the swirling fog after a night out, stumbles upon a body. This would be alarming enough but when she returns to the spot with the police, the body has vanished. Soon Joe Plantagenet finds himself involved in a complex investigation which appears to centre on a production of The Devils at Eborby’s Playhouse. Throw in a psychic who claims to know the whereabouts of a missing boy and a suspicious local politician and you have an intriguing mystery with just a touch of the supernatural to add a little flavour.


Kate Ellis
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The story behind The Grace of Kings by Ken Liu

My debut novel is a “silkpunk” epic fantasy that re-imagines the history and legends surrounding the Chu-Han Contention (202 B.C.E. to 206 B.C.E.) in a brand new archipelago world filled with magic and technology. In The Grace of Kings, two men who seem polar opposites—a descendant of an aristocratic, martial family and a ne’er-do-well commoner-turned-bandit—become good friends in the rebellion against a tyrannical emperor only to find themselves bitter rivals divided by different ideas for the right path to making the world more just.

Let me start by offering an explanation for “silkpunk.” Like steampunk, silkpunk is a blend of science fiction and fantasy. But whereas steampunk takes as its inspiration the chrome-brass-glass technology aesthetic of the Victorian era, silkpunk draws inspiration from classical East Asian antiquity. My novel is thus filled with machines like soaring battle kites that lift duelists into the air, bamboo-and-silk airships propelled by giant feathered oars, underwater boats that swim like whales driven by primitive steam engines, and tunnel-digging machines enhanced with herbal lore, as well as fantasy elements like gods who bicker and manipulate, magical books that tell us what is in our hearts, giant water beasts that bring storms and guide sailors safely to shores, and illusionists who manipulate smoke to peer into opponents’ minds. This is a world where the technology vocabulary is based on organic materials historically important to East Asia (bamboo, paper, silk) and seafaring cultures of the Pacific (coconut, feathers, coral) and where machines are constructed along biomechanical principles like the inventions in Romance of the Three Kingdoms. The overall aesthetic sense is one of suppleness and flexibility, and I had a lot of fun coming up with the machines.

Historically, the Chu-Han Contention was a period when China was divided by mass rebellions into many kingdoms, from which two powers, Western Chu and Han, emerged as the most dominant and fought for control of all of China. The legends of heroism and betrayal during this era have been retold and re-imagined many times in Chinese literature, and they were among the first stories I learned as a child. Legends of the Chu-Han Contention thus function as one of the foundational narratives of Chinese literature in the same way that works like the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Aeneid, and Beowulf are foundational narratives for Western literature.

My wife was the one who gave me the idea for this novel. When I explained to her that I was having difficulty finding a good story for novel-length treatment, she reminded me that she shared the same foundational narratives with me because she had grown up watching Chinese historical romances in the form of Hong Kong TV dramas. The mythical power of these stories struck both of us, and we had an excited conversation about the potential of transposing one of these Chinese historical romances into a new cultural framework and breathe new life into it.

I decided to re-imagine the Chu-Han Contention using tropes of Western epic fantasy as well as tropes from Chinese genres like wuxia fantasy and historical romance. The novel thus has a different “feel” from many contemporary epic fantasies, with shifting POVs at different levels and an emphasis on “side stories” that advance the plot obliquely. The melded narrative technique draws from Classical Western epic tradition as well as Chinese poetic and prose traditions, leading to an effect that should feel at once strange and familiar, but perfectly fitted to the story I wanted to tell.

Finally, I want to say a few words about why I chose to tell this tale in an archipelago setting that doesn’t resemble China in any way. Early on, I made the decision that I did not want to write a “magic China” story. The history of the West’s encounters with China from the days of Marco Polo onward is infused with Orientalism and the colonial gaze, and I realized that it would be difficult for readers to perceive the essence of the story I wanted to tell through the haze of problematic tropes and clichés if I didn’t radically alter their expectations. Thus, I created an archipelago that is physically distinct form continental China, and populated it with new cultures, peoples, customs and gods—which also forced me to examine every aspect of the source story with fresh eyes and re-imagine it. And then, over all of this, the silkpunk aesthetic overlay connects the imagined world back to its source, leading to a sense of simultaneous estrangement and familiarity that delights.

###

Author Bio: Ken Liu (http://kenliu.name) is an author and translator of speculative fiction, as well as a lawyer and programmer. A winner of the Nebula, Hugo, and World Fantasy Awards, he has been published in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Asimov’s, Analog, Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, and Strange Horizons, among other places. He lives with his family near Boston, Massachusetts.

Ken’s debut novel, The Grace of Kings, the first in a silkpunk epic fantasy series, will be published by Saga Press, Simon & Schuster’s new genre fiction imprint, in April 2015. Saga will also publish a collection of his short stories, The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories, in November of 2015.


Ken Liu
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Story Behind the Book : Volume 4 - Essays on Writing & Editing Fiction

"Story Behind the Book: Volume 4" collects nearly 40 essays about writing and editing fiction from some of the most talented authors working today.  These essays reveal intricacies and secrets behind the craft and offer a unique and unprecedented insight into the creative process.

Includes the following “Story Behind the Book” essays:

  • “The Professor of Truth” by James Robertson
  • “The Bug” by Ellen Ullman
  • “The Golem and the Jinni” by Helene Wecker
  • “The Center of the World” by Thomas Van Essen
  • “Enchantment” by Pietro Grossi
  • “The Delphi Room” by Melia McClure
  • “A Fatal Likeness“ by Lynn Shepherd
  • “The Scent of Death“ by Andrew Taylor
  • “The Map of the Sky“ by Felix J. Palma
  • “Murder by the Book“ by Eric Brown
  • “This Strange Way of Dying“ by Silvia Moreno Garcia
  • “The Broken Ones” by Stephen M. Irwin
  • “The 'Geisters“ by David Nickle
  • “Blackwater Lights“ by Michael Hughes
  • “Cain's Blood” by Geoffrey Girard
  • “Rivers“ by Michael Farris Smith
  • “Your Brother's Blood“ by David Towsey
  • “Strange Mammals“ by Jason Erik Lundberg
  • “The Carpet Makers“ by Andreas Eschbach
  • “The Ravenglass Eye“ by Tom Fletcher
  • “The One-Eyed Man“ by L. E. Modesitt Jr.
  • “Copperhead“ by Tina Connolly
  • “The Tide King“ by Jen Michalski
  • “Gallow“ by Nathan Hawke
  • “Elysian Fields“ by Suzanne Johnson
  • “Theirs Not to Reason Why“ by Jean Johnson
  • “Aliens: Recent Encounters“ by Alex Dally MacFarlane
  • “Clockwork Fairy Tales“ by Stephen L. Antczak
  • “23 Years on Fire“ by Joel Shepherd
  • “The Shifted World“ by Philippa Ballantine
  • “Bang Bang“ by Patrick Malloy
  • “Gods of Earth“ by Craig DeLancey
  • “Wisp of a Thing“ by Alex Bledsoe
  • “Dream London“ by Tony Ballantyne
  • “Persistence of Memory“ by Winona Kent
  • “Disability in Science Fiction : Representations of Technology as Cure“ by Kathryn Allan
  • “King Breaker“ by Rowena Cory Daniells
  • “Gideon Smith & the Mechanical Girl“ by David Barnett

All proceeds will be donated to Epilepsy Action
Edited by: Kristijan Meic, Ivana Steiner.

182 pages
5.06" x 7.81" (12.852 x 19.837 cm)
Black & White on White paper


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REVIEW : A Quantum Mythology by Gavin Smith

 

Well, I'm just about speechless. How to explain the sheer lunacy that is Gavin Smith's latest novel "A Quantum Mythology" just by using mere sentences? I'll certainly try but just in case here's a disclaimer before I start: this review will probably be a bit of a mess. But before I begin, I would just like to profess my love for his writings, either alone or as a mad combo with Stephen Deas. I believe Gavin is one of the strongest and most enduring new forces in British SF and I can only hope that he'll capture the attention of readers as much as he caught mine. Gavin's latest book "The Age of Scorpio" was something of a departure from his earlier works such as "Veteran" and "War in Heaven". In it he started playing with timelines and most of the plot was filled with oblique references to the events and concepts which were never fully explained. It was a commanding performance but one which was, at the time, perhaps too ambitious. And yet, in my opinion, he somehow pulled it off - I've absolutely loved it and was really looking forward to the development of the introduced technology and universe. "The Age of Scorpio" felt to me like a more fun version of Stephen Baxter - all the high concept jinx you would expect but with over the top action sequences and fun. "A Quantum Mythology" is something of an informal sequel to "The Age of Scorpio" and expands upon the same ideas. However, if you thought the latter was complex, wait until you start reading "A Quantum Mythology". In it Gavin comes out with all guns blazing and will probably leave few of the readers in complete bewilderment!

To paraphrase the synopsis, "A Quantum Mythology" takes place in present, far future and deep past. Story opens up in 1791's Birmingham as Hellaquin and Knight encounters one of many demons that grace this book. Sir Ronald Sharpely is possessed and the whole thing ends in a massacre. The chapter switches and we're in the future. Scab (familiar?) watches as nanites, already known to readers of "The Age of Scorpio" invade a monkey raised in isolation and the story takes of from there. It's a wondrous time, filled with bizarre technology but also unforgiving ruthlessness. In present (actually 6 weeks ago) in Micronesia, Lodup Satakano is preparing for a dive when he's approached by Grace, an incredibly cool woman who gives him an offer he can't refuse . Back in time, in distant past, a few remaining tribes of Northern Britain in Ubh Blaosc are fighting a strange foe that came out of the sea. All these different strands of story are presented in alternating chapters and as it slowly become obvious are connected by something that can change (and changes) the course of history. As these get unified, the story comes to epic conclusion.

"A Quantum Mythology" is a further stage in the Gavin's development as an author and I certainly love the way this is all going. He's not afraid to experiment and his playfulness combined with his knowledge comes up trumps this time. "A Quantum Mythology" is very ambitious. Its complex concepts and multiple strands require reader's attention but not in a way that's distracting. Above all, Gavin never forgets that it is also important to entertain. "A Quantum Mythology" admittedly owes a lot to greats such as Stephen Baxter, especially in those well researched bits set in distant past, but it also comes with Gavin's unique style that thrilled me to bits. This a very readable, fantastical romp across the past, present and future. Well recommended.


Review copy provided by Gollancz.
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REVIEW : The Word for World is Forest by Ursula K. Le Guin

 

As part for their "SF Masterworks" series, in March Gollancz publish a new edition of Ursula K. Le Guin's classic novel "The Word for World is Forest". What better reason to could you possibly have to experience it once again! "The Word for World is Forest" was originally published in 1976 but it was based on the novella published in 1972. It is part of her "Hainish Cycle" which includes "The Left Hand of Darkness" and in its chronology sits towards the end of it, after 1974's "The Dispossessed". However, if this your first encounter with Le Guin's work you shouldn't be discouraged. Her cycles are should only notionally be considered as a series of interconnected works because they can all be read as a standalone novel and they contain many internal inconsistencies despite sharing the same universe.

"The Word for World Is Forest" is set in far future on a three-covered planet locally knows as Athshe where Terrans have established a logging colony. Indigenous inhabitants are small, green-furred, big-eyed creatures who developed a culture of their own - one set on lucid dreaming. Faced with Terrans who invade their environment without paying any heed to environment or their traditions, natives are in a position that is not unlike one faced when in 19th century colonists landed in Americas. Mostly they're not even capable to understand what is happening to their ecosystem as their peaceful existence so far hasn't even let them to discover concepts such as tyranny, slavery or even war. But as Terrans continue their unstoppable march natives are forced to change and to quickly lose their innocence.

"The Word for World is Forest" is one of finest Le Guin's works because despite being set in a far future on a planet that's weird and wonderful, the troubles it deals with a decidedly human and as old as our species - the ruthlessness and destruction we're prepared to unleash to accomplish our goals. It's disheartening but still perfectly true and just a casual glance at just about any news headline concerning climate change will tell you. Interestingly enough "The Word for World is Forest" is feel as current as it was when it originally came out. The story will particularly strike a chord with those who liked movies like, for example, Avatar but it goes without question that Le Guin's poetic prose is by far superiour. Her tenderness and gentle way of telling a story are always treats to enjoy and "The Word for World is Forest" easily deserves the honour of being one of the "SF Masterworks".


Review copy provided by Gollancz.
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REVIEW : The Galaxy Game by Karen Lord

 

Karen Lord's "The Best of All Possible Worlds" was something of a discovery for me. Rarely I stumble upon an author who has the same grace and gentleness as Ursula K. Le Guin and yet also has enough originality to carve a niche for herself. "The Best of All Possible Worlds" was hardly perfect and yet there was something about that still makes me remember it very fondly. Therefore it is perfectly understandable that I was incredibly excited about "The Galaxy Game", novel that is once again taking a leaf out of Le Guin's book - it is a sequel and yet not a straightforward one so let's just call it part of the cycle.

"The Galaxy Game" branches off from its predecessor and focuses on Grace Delarua’s nephew, Rafi Delarue who has for years been watching his family suffer due to his father's recklessness with psionic powers. All this makes Rafi the center of government's attention who are making an active effort to discover how his brain ticks. Rafi, understandably, is troubled by this and goes on a run to planet Punartam, a place where the likes of him are more than welcome and where his favourite sport, wallrunning (something resembling an evolved version of parkour), is wide spread. But far from being a paradise, Punartam is soon turning out to be a center of the galaxy-wide unrest and suddenly Rafi is playing a game on a wholly different level – one which could have a far reaching consequences.

Even from this short synopsis it is clearly obvious that a lot has changed that since "The Best of All Possible Worlds". "The Galaxy Game" is not focused so much on major themes such as gender inequality, slavery and social injustice but marks something of a shift towards a character novel. But that's not to say that Lord has completely mellowed - she's still on the forefront of exploring deepest recesses of her world full of prejudice but it's just that this time around it feels like her priorities are elsewhere. More importantly, despite all that her originality is still there. Lord is seriously good at this worldbuilding malarkey and it is a pleasure to discover new horizons with her.

So how is "The Galaxy Game" in the end? For start, it was well worth waiting for. It's a great adventure and as long as you don't expect a re-run of "The Best of All Possible Worlds" you'll love it. One can't help the felling that Lord is still finding her voice but if "The Galaxy Game" is anything to be judged by, she's nearly there.


Review copy provided by Jo Fletcher Books.
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The story behind Inspector Pekkala by Sam Eastland

The Setting

During the mid 1990’s, a friend of mine was present at a construction site in Russia when a backhoe unearthed the body of a soldier. The dead man was laying spread eagled on the carcass of a horse which had been buried at the same time. The man was wearing a long greatcoat, tall boots and had a thick leather belt across his middle. The clothing and the body had been preserved by the soil so that the man appeared to be partially mummified. Upon examination of the corpse, it became clear that the rider had been buried around the time of the First World War. It also seemed clear, from the fact that he had been laid to rest along with his horse, that the man had probably been buried on the same spot where he had been killed. The man’s belt buckle, which clearly showed the double-headed eagle of the Romanovs, identified him as a soldier of the Tsar’s Army. However, because of the location, which was not on what would have been the front lines during the Great War, the man must have been buried after, not during, the war. This would have placed the soldier’s death at some time in the early days of the Revolution, when soldiers still loyal to the Tsar, known as the Whites, fought pitched battles with the Bolsheviks, who became known as the Reds.

During the course of the construction, several other bodies were discovered, all of whom were similarly dressed and, presumably, had been killed during the same battle.

After the bodies had been re-interred, my friend was given one of the belt buckles as a souvenir. He then passed it on to me, and I still have it.

For every book, there is always some unexpected catalyst that sets everything in motion. Waiting for these catalysts to take hold is like standing in the path of a gently falling meteor shower. Ideas will come hurtling past, but they don’t hit you, so eventually you forget them. But then some image or some anecdote, will strike you right between the eyes. From that point on, the formation of the book becomes like the making of a pearl inside an oyster. The grain of sand embeds itself inside the oyster. The oyster is not trying to produce a thing of beauty. It is trying to survive. The pearl is the product of pain. It is the same with these stories. Once they have snagged like a fishhook in your brain, you have to find a way to work them loose.

Holding that buckle in my hand made me think of the tens of thousands of people who were swallowed up in that revolution whose stories have never been told. Russian history, perhaps more than any other country, is layered with so many lies, denials, discreditations and rehabilitations that there is no one version of that country’s past. The only reliable stance to take is that nothing about it is reliable. And yet you know that the truth is in there somewhere, woven into the fabric of these deceptions.

For months after I began writing the Eye of the Red Tsar, that rider galloped through my dreams. It became an act of self-preservation to conjure back to life the story of that buckle, and of the man who wore it to his death.

Here is a picture of the buckle –

And one of what the man who wore it would have looked like –

The Character

Pekkala is based on two people.

The first is my grandfather, who was a policeman at Scotland Yard from the 1930’s-50’s.

The second is a man named A.T. Vassileyev, who was the last serving Chief of the Ochrana, the Tsar's Secret Police, in St. Petersburg before the Revolution. He wrote a book on his experiences, which was published in 1930, at the height of the Stalinist Terrors, while he himself was in exile in Paris. What I've noticed is that people who know something about this time period usually feel the need to come down on one side or another. Either the Tsar was terrible and they defend Stalin. Or Stalin was terrible and they find themselves defending the Tsar. The truth is, both sides of this coin bear witness to a depravity and disregard for human life which simply boggles the mind. Vassileyev knew this. I glimpsed in him a man simply trying to do his job - to do good in a world governed by evil - both in the people who ruled the country and the people who were trying to bring it down.

Here is a picture of my grandfather’s discharge certificate from Scotland Yard –

Red Icon by Sam Eastland is out now (Faber & Faber, £12.99)


Paul Watkins/Sam Eastland
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The story behind Silent Running by Pauline Rowson

How a broken down lift inspired Silent Running the first in an explosive new marine crime series by Pauline Rowson featuring former Marine Commando, Art Marvik

The idea for Silent Running first came to me when I stepped inside a lift in a high-rise building in London, which also happened to be a club for service personnel and veterans (my husband being a former RAF Police Officer.) I wondered what would happen if the lift got stuck and if I was in it with one other person, a man I didn’t know. I dislike lifts and avoid them if I possibly can and I thought of a woman in this lift alone with a man she’d never met before. What would have enticed her into that lift if she was afraid of them? Who was the man with her? Did she know him? What would they speak about while waiting to be freed? Why would she invite him back to her room after they’d been released? And why would he kill her? The rest of the plot sprang from there.

But I needed a new hero to solve this case rather than my flawed and rugged detective, DI Andy Horton. I wanted a character who was not bound by the official rules of the law but who was nevertheless on the right side of it. I like heroes so my new character definitely had to be that and as I’m a sucker for adventure stories and mystery there was no doubt that this was what Silent Running had to be. It also had to have the hallmarks of my brand – a troubled hero, the sea and lots of action. So already the stage was set, enter former Royal Marine Commando, Special Boat Services Officer Art Marvik newly out of the marines. Why did I pick a serviceman? Well, everyone knows the marines are tough, and those in the Special Boat Services are an elite force, highly trained, fearless, intelligent and supremely fit. He fitted the bill perfectly.

Every character has to have a back story, they don’t spring afresh on the page. DI Andy Horton tries to unravel the mystery surrounding his mother’s disappearance when he was ten. Marvik has dismissed his parents’ death on a dive while undertaking one of their many marine archaeological expeditions as an accident, but was it? He too like Horton was abandoned by his parents but whereas Horton was consigned to children’s homes and foster homes in inner city Portsmouth, Marvik was sent to an elite and expensive boarding school at the age of eleven. He grew up feeling his parents loved their quest for aquatic treasures more than they loved their son. After their death when he was seventeen he joined the marines at eighteen and put his parents, their life and their wealth, behind him. Langton, the psychiatrist who treated him after a head injury sustained in combat, said Marvik was running away from his emotions, maybe he was, but as far as he was concerned he would continue running, the past was the past, except he soon finds it has a nasty habit of catching up with you.

But, of course, it’s not all roses in the garden for Marvik. Injuries inflicted while in combat have finally forced him to leave the marines. He thought he’d be able to adjust but his first job as a private maritime security operative goes very wrong when the luxury motor cruiser he was detailed to guard, gets attacked by pirates in the Indian Ocean, and Marvik finds himself with a bullet in his shoulder and the boat’s owner dead. He’d failed on his first mission in civilian life, and Silent Running opens with him reeling from it.

Marvik is recovering in a remote cottage on the Isle of Wight uncertain of the future. Then a former marine colleague, Special Services Communications Officer, Shaun Strathen, renews Marvik’s acquaintance and asks for his help to locate a missing research scientist. Strathen has also been injured in combat and invalided out of the marines. He’s set himself up as a specialist security consultant and with a prosthetic leg seems to have adjusted to life better than Marvik. Failing to locate the missing research scientist, Marvik returns on his motorboat to his rented cottage to find he has a visitor, a former girlfriend and a navy nurse, Charlotte Churley, who insists she’s being followed. Marvik is ready to dismiss this as a symptom of overwork until Charlotte goes missing. Then Marvik finds himself being used as bait to catch a killer before he can kill again, this time it will be Charlotte.

Marvik’s mission takes him along the South Coast of England to marinas and bays, a landscape familiar to me and one that is never without incident and atmosphere. In a race against time, Marvik is sucked into a dangerous assignment and a web of deceit that will need all his skills, and those of Strathen, to get to the truth. Does he succeed? Well I’ll leave you to find out but let’s just say I’m working on the second in the Art Marvik series, which I hope will be published in 2016.

Silent Running is published by Severn House in hardcover in the UK on 30 March 2015 and in the USA on 1 July 2015 when it will also be published as an ebook.


Pauline Rowson
Pauline Rowson is the author of the DI Andy Horton Marine Mystery Series of which there are currently eleven. Number 12 in the Horton series, Fatal Catch, will be published in September 2015. She is also the author of two standalone crime novels, In Cold Daylight and In For The Kill. You can follow Pauline Rowson on Twitter or visit her website at www.rowmark.co.uk.
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