Monday, 29 June 2009

Back from Scandinavia

I have returned from my trip to Scandinavia, and it went most well. It was a flying visit - a day in Stockholm, a day in Gothenberg, and a day in Oslo, with four hours in airports, five hours on planes, and ten or eleven on trains in between - and hence slightly knackering. I spent the whole time in a slightly disoriented state of mild bafflement. Even more so than usual. But I got to meet my Swedish publisher, who are releasing The Blade Itself in Swedish in August (split in two books, but released together). They are actually keeping something close to the original title as well, unusually. Their translation comes close to 'the tempting steel' apparently. Ooooh. Tempting.

I also got to do some events at some great specialist bookstores, and meet a lot of very keen Swedish and Norwegian readers. Particular respect has to go to the guy who turned up at Oslo having only just been discharged from hospital with tongue cancer, had half his tongue removed and was sporting scars that would've made Black Dow proud to know him. Now that's dedication.

Some things that I learned about Sweden and Norway from my brief encounter:

Scandinavia is very clean compared to London.

Scandinavians speak ludicrously good English.

And hence read a lot of books in English.

Scandinavians like fantasy and sci-fi a lot.

And hence have excellent, very well stocked and informed specialist fantasy and sci-fi bookshops with real senses of community and involvement about them.

This is a good thing.

Scandinavian trains are great.

Scandinavia is not necessarily cold. In fact it was boiling hot, brilliant sunshine pretty much the whole time I was there. I really needn't have packed my ice-pick.

So thanks again to all the publishers and booksellers that put me up, fed me and looked after me, and also to all the good folks who came out to get books signed or listen to me talk rubbish. Maybe I'll see you again some time...

Labels: appearances, news

Monday, 22 June 2009

The Brief, Wondrous Road of Oscar Finch

For a man who reads few books, I have read quite a few books recently. Three excellent pieces of fiction in particular, though only one of them could be considered fantasy and that of a rather peculiar and fungus-ridden variety. Still, I warmly recommend all three to anyone capable of reading in English, for they are excellent (as I said above), and all quick, sharp, page-turning reads as well. You could probably fit all three into a hollowed out hardcover of Storm of Swords and have room left over for a banana. And believe me, once you'd finished the last of them, you'd really need that banana.

First up - Junot Diaz' Pulitzer prize-winning The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. The exodus from the Dominican Republic of Trujillo and the immigrant experience in the US as examined through the eyes of several members of one dysfunctional family. If you expect that the winner of such a heavyweight prize would have to be written in an overbearing, difficult, heavyweight way, then (in this case, at least) you're WAY wrong. This is airy, readable, conversational, bursting with humour and personality. My mum gave me a great piece of writing advice - always be truthful, always be real, and this book has authenticity in spades. It's also told partly from the point of view of a geeky child obsessed with Lord of the Rings (among other fantastic and science fictional things) and so is littered with some brilliant genre-based metaphors for those of you who know about that sort of thing (not me, obviously), sometimes hilariously innapropriate (the great dictator, when assassinated, stumbles from his bullet-riddled limousine having taken 400 hit points of damage). There's one brilliant paragraph in which Diaz manages to use a metaphor from Star Trek and one from John Boorman's Point Blank. Has he been inside my mind? The book's split into several parts, each from the point of view of a different member of the extended family, some going back to the 30s and 40s in the Dominican Republic (which is wild, vivid and dangerous enough to virtually qualify as a fantasy world, especially for someone who grew up in 80s Lancaster), some taking place right up to the present day. For me some sections worked better than others, but overall it's a joyful, characterful, rewarding read.

Next up, Jeff Vandermeer's Finch. A compromised detective struggles to solve a difficult double murder in a bizarre, crumbling city occupied by enemy forces. So far so noir. Except the enemy are giant mushrooms. I hadn't read any of Vandermeer's stuff before, but his reputation is ... kinda literary, I guess. All these distinctions are fundamentally bullshit, of course, but nonetheless I was expecting something complicated, difficult, possibly with wild ideas and beautiful writing but perhaps not too much in the way of coherent story. But the writing, though vivid, is tight as a drum, never over-complicated, and the imagination as man meets fungus meets city and all three flow together into a noir nightmare is like nothing else I've read. He makes the book work both as a crazy fantasy and as a tough detective story, both parts complimenting the other. If I were to go for a filmic metaphor I might have to say Chinatown meets Naked Lunch with a sprinkling of Tetsuo II: The Bodyhammer. And a side of mushrooms. Giant, man eating, hallucinatory mushrooms. There are a few moments, perhaps, where the forward momentum slackens and we come dangerously close to infodumping, the plot seems to creak a little and there's a risk that - like a jet fighter driven forward only by its own thrust - it might come crashing to the ground, explode and kill its pilot in an almighty fireball. But then the fungal afterburners kick in and the book blasts once more into the heavens of imagination. Nothing's fully explained at the end, but that isn't really the point of a book like this (if there are any other books like this, which there probably aren't). I read this in proof form, and I don't think it's out for a few months, but I strongly advise you to pick up a copy when it does appear because I very much doubt you'll have read it's like before. A must for fans of fantasy, noir, great writing, or, of course, fungus.

And so we come to the end. Of this post, and the world. Cormac McCarthy probably doesn't need my help in drawing the attention of readers to his (also) Pulitzer-winning The Road, since it's been out for a long time, has been on Oprah and that and sold squillions of copies, and is being made into a film even as we speak with that nice Viggo Mortensen. But if you've been frozen in a glacier for the last few years, allow me to expound. The Road is an irripresible comedy of manners that will have you chuckling from the very first page. Perhaps that's not entirely accurate. Unless by irrepresible comedy of manners you mean ash-blasted post-apocalyptic horrorshow, and by chuckling you mean gripped and harrowed. This is one bleak-ass book, but also a completely magnificent one that in the midst of its brutality, desperation and utter waste somehow manages to be strangely inspiring. I'd read a couple of McCarthy's books before and found them interesting but difficult to get into, so stripped bare and brutal are the prose, the characters and the events. But the stark and ruthless writing matched the content beautifully in this book, no doubt. Awe-inspiring.

Anything else - er, there's an interview up with me at SF Signal, should anyone be interested, and with that I'm off to Scandinavia to talk at some bookstores. If any of you will be attending in Stockholm, Gothenberg, or Oslo, I will look forward immensely to seeing you there. The rest of you, I will post when I get back...

Labels: interviews, reading

Sunday, 21 June 2009

Almost Glory

The validity of the David Gemmell Legend Award was called into serious question on Friday night when I didn't win.

A ha ha.

Andrzej Sapkowski won for his Blood of Elves, so congratulations to him (forced spittily through gritted teeth, of course). In many ways not that surprising since he's much the biggest selling author on the list - bigger than Stephen King in his native Poland and pretty massive in translation in Europe and elsewhere - it shows the huge difficulty authors who don't write in English face getting translated into English that Sapkowski has only in the last couple of years had UK and US releases. So it may be that the award had a lot more votes from outside the inward-looking English-speaking world (apparently only 500 out of 10,000 votes were from the UK, for example, though my figures might be only hearsay) or it may be that people just thought Sapkowski's book was better than the others on the list ...

But I won a pewter battle-axe which, though small, probably has enough heft to cause serious injury, which was nice, and even better got the opportunity to hold a full size full-on steel one which most definitely could cause serious injury:


It makes you feel powerful, believe me, but is frakking heavy. And before you ask I wasn't extremely drunk, just naturally heavy-lidded. (Thanks to Liz for the photo, which I have nicked without permission from her website - bit like I get the ideas for my books, now you mention it).

In any case, it was a great event, very well organised, much the most professional genre awards I've ever attended (not that I can say I've attended that many). I think it's a good thing that there should be an award for epic/heroic/commercial fantasy, and that it should commemorate David Gemmell's own contribution. I hope it continues to grow and flourish and get wide involvement in years to come.

In other news of almost-glory Best Served Cold made number 11 on the Nielsen hardcover bestseller list in its first week out in the UK. Brilliant news on one level, of course, but a tad frustrating on another to just miss the top ten and hence be unable to (honestly) call myself a Times Bestseller. "Nearly Bestselling Author Joe Abercrombie" doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it. Still, it was a tough week and with heavy-hitters of mainstream publishing like James Patterson, Wilbur Smith, Sarah Waters and Lee Child ahead of me, I don't suppose I can grumble. Well, I could. I kind of am. But I definitely shouldn't be. I should be thanking all the hard-working folks at my publisher for their hardworkingness and congratulating them on getting the book to 11. And keeping it at 20 this week, for that matter. It's a great showing for a book of its type (that is one unlikely to find its way onto supermarket shelves where a lot of bulk sales occur these days). So congratulations to the minions of Orion in all their guises, and we shall wreak a bloody vengeance upon the bestseller list next year, mark my words. You hear me, Patterson and the rest? I'm coming for you!

Oh. Might be the year after, though...

Labels: news

Saturday, 13 June 2009

Best Served Cold Reviewed ... Lots

Much movement upon the blogosphere and, indeed, in the realms of printed media, with all manner of opinion expressed about Best Served Cold . I will try to get through all the ones I'm aware of. First up, a review from that esteemed organ of the US book trade Publishers Weekly has also weighed in, with a starred review, no less:

"Abercrombie returns to the blood-drenched arena of the First Law trilogy (The Blade Itself, etc.) with this skillfully crafted and bleakly humorous sword and sorcery adventure. Duke Orso imagines that he can become king by ending the civil wars that have devastated Styria, but he errs by trying to kill his overly popular general, mercenary Monza Murcatto. Recovering from her massive injuries and mourning her murdered brother, Monza vows vengeance on Orso and half a dozen of his accomplices. Employing her own motley crew of death dealers, Monza gets her revenge, but it's neither simple nor satisfying; each target requires fresh strategy, and each death has unexpected effects. Abercrombie is both fiendishly inventive and solidly convincing, especially when sprinkling his appallingly vivid combat scenes with humor so dark that it's almost ultraviolet."

You want more stars? How about five of the bastards from UK Genre magazine Sci-Fi Now:

"All in all, we can't say enough good words about Joe Abercrombie's latest addition to the genre."

Oh, go on! Give it a try!

"It's intelligent, measured, thoughtful, well paced and considered, but retains a sense of fun that has flavoured the rest of his excellent bibliography. We can't recommend it enough."

Nice. And another from from Mark Yon at SFFWorld:

"For all its gruesomeness, its bleakness and its moral cynicism it is a rich, memorable tale, exciting and well structured. This will be a ‘best of the year’ novel for many in the genre. It is still a pleasure to see this author’s talent develop."

It certainly would be a pleasure to see it develop. Yet another opinion on Best Served Cold at Drift Line

"Not exactly very heroic, but very human. One of the strengths of Joe’s writing is his very believable, very human and very complex characters. They are mesmerising and engaging, and are a joy to read."

Be mesmerised. And even yet another from Simon A at BookGeeks:

"It's a testament to Abercrombie's skill as a storyteller that he can, over the course of your acquaintance with them, make you care about generals, assassins, cut-throats, barbarians, poisoners and (worst of all?) politicians so much, and in spite of their dubious deeds. Best Served cold is definitely this author's best work to date."

Lovely. And I'll leave the last word for Dave Bradley, editor of SFX:

"Overall this is an immediately rewarding experience. There are unexpected reveals in the final third that are unexpected yet satisfyingly logical. The standalone nature of this instalment should attract new readers, and its tight, uncompromising focus makes for an absorbing read. Best Served Cold? Modern fantasy doesn't get much hotter than this."

Well said, that man. I'll bring you some slating just as soon as I find some but, and I'm being totally honest here, when it comes to shitty opinions about Best Served Cold, as far as I can tell the internet cupboard is bare ... so far. Ah, with all these props what a fine book it must be. But don't take my word for it, or even that of all these blogging and journalistic worthies. There's an attractive young man with a very full head of hair talking about it on the Border's newsletter. Weirdly enough the piece was also edited by yours truly. I am indeed multi-untalented.

Oh, I almost forgot in all the excitement over new books, a thoughtful comment on that crumbly old fossil The First Law fromElf M. Sternberg if that is his real name,

"Abercrombie's series has everything you could want ... The characterization is astounding, and his characters go deep and real. It is a brilliant and bold story that climbs over the bodies and scales the battlements of extruded fantasy product, unbuttons its fly and pisses all over the generic doorstops that litter the big box bookstore shelves. And yet, for all the astounding dramatic pyrotechnics, the ending leaves me vaguely depressed, vaguely upset, and without sympathy for losers, without celebration with the winners, without any real heroes."

Score!

Labels: reviews

Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Resident Evil 5

Man, what with the house move, and the baby, and the book promoting, I'm so behind on everything. I played this what feels like fifteen years ago, and only now am I organising my thoughts.

I was a big fan of the first Resident Evil when it was released on the Difference Engine in 1892, but the series did rather wane over the hundred years that followed. Resident Evil 4, however, was a brilliant, brilliant game. Mind-blowing in many ways, and had that rare feeling games sometimes have of everything working really nicely, all the rough edges being smoothed. Number 5, like a less gifted younger son living endlessly in the shadow of a far more famous brother, suffers by comparison. It's still a very accomplished game but, for me, it just doesn't push things on far enough to make its own mark.

It's been generally spruced up, particularly (as one would expect), in the graphics. It looks great, especially the characters' faces, which have a slightly uncanny sweaty sheen about them. But the overall content of shooting lots and lots of zombies is largely the same, and the ham-fisted control system is more or less identical, and less and less forgiveable as the years roll on and more fluid over-the-shoulder shooting games like, say, Uncharted, make it look ludicrously slow and laborious. Lots of time spent running from corner to corner of a game area so that you can have time to turn round and raise your gun to fire for a bit from a standing position, before lumbering off again.

The plots of Resident Evil games have long been a little on the silly side, but 4 at least ignored most of what went before and started afresh, making some kind of crazy sense viewed on its own. 5 tries too hard to cobble together and unite all kinds of ill-conceived bits of previous games and ends up a jumble, not helped by creaky script and voicing. There's too much bibble-babble and not enough drama.

In some areas it seems to have taken rather baffling steps back. Resident Evil always left you with only just enough equipment to do the job, and ammunition preservation was elevated to an art form in number 4. Number 5 would seem to do the same, until you realise that, due to its strangely clumsy saving and checkpointing methods, you can play a stage on easy setting collecting ammunition, then simply carry it across to a stage on hard setting and blast away with impunity.

The most disappointing thing, though, is that it just isn't very scary. Partly it's that many of the sequences (attack by chainsaw-wielding, bag-headed freakoids, for example) we saw already in the last game. Partly it's that where the game does innovate, it occasionally tends towards the silly (motorbike riding zombies, now? Are you sure?) Partly it's that you always have your trusty partner alongside you, and they're actually, perhaps for the first time ever in a computer game, reasonably effective and resilient, so you always feel someone's got your back. And partly it's that the hero, Chris Redfield, has evidently been working out. A LOT. He's about the size of Lou Ferrigno if the man had, you know, taken the whole gym thing a bit more seriously. He looks as if he could crush a zombie between his eyebrows. It's simply hard to believe that a small African country full of hideous mutants could put him down.

Don't get me wrong, it's still a highly enjoyable game once through - there are some great moments and blasting zombies' heads off with a shotgun will never get entirely old - but it feels nothing like the leap forward for the series (never mind gaming in general) that its classic predecessor did, is oddly rough round the edges, and in its gameplay already feels a little dated. Resident Evil 4 was so good that a rerun is no bad thing, but you feel they'll need to step things up a bit with the next outing.

7/10

Labels: games

Saturday, 6 June 2009

Tour Finishes, Email begins

Well, my mini tour of the UK promoting Best Served Cold has now come to an end. Seemed to go very well, on the whole. Talk in Manchester was good, despite at one point losing my train of thought and standing staring into space for an awful lot longer than was comfortable. An informed and enthusiastic audience - got to be a good thing. Then got the train back to London, took a brief tour of book stores there to sign stock. Then another little talk, q&a and reading at Forbidden Planet in Covent Garden. Only fitted in a couple of questions because of time constraints, which was a shame because in spite of everyone standing (or perhaps because of it), there was a nice informal feel to the event. Finally to Bath, this morning, where again there was a decent turnout, maybe thirty or so, and then to my knackered house full of boxes.

So my heartfelt thanks to all those who came out to show their support at any of those places, and especially to those who bought books. All in all, another few hundred copies signed. My hand hurts. Ah, and someone gave me an amusing and accomplished First Law-influenced cartoon, which shall get pride of place on my noticeboard.

While I was away the broadband fairies visited the new house and left a lovely new internet connection, so now I can catch up on various blogging responsibilities, start to chisel away at the massive email backlog I've built up over the last month, and, who knows ... maybe even do some writing. The question I got asked most often, after all, while presenting a new book to the world?

When's the next book coming out?

There's just no pleasing some people...

Labels: appearances, news

Monday, 1 June 2009

Release Date

Rejoice, my friends, for Best Served Cold now walks among you! In fact it's been available in bookshops here and there for a few days, as UK bookshops have a flexible attitude towards release dates, but from today it should be in Waterstones across the nation and is also, it would appear, shipping from amazon uk as well as other reputable internet purveyors...

And what better way for an author to celebrate the publication of one of his books than to sign a few?


A thousand, in fact, at the warehouse. Two pallets full. I'd never done anything like this before, so it was quite strange to see so many in one place. After signing about fifty your signature (which is a bit of a scrawl in my case anyway) turns into a complete shambles. You can't remember how it works any more at all. Then, strangely, after about a hundred, it goes onto automatic and comes out pretty well. Took about two hours to do the lot, with help from the wonderful folks at Littlehampton Book Services, and I swear, by the end, my hand hadn't hurt so much since I was thirteen.

Writing for three hours solid in an English exam, obviously. What did you think I meant?

Apologies, by the way, for ongoing email silence. Still don't have a regular internet connection, let alone my email accounts repaired. This time next week, with any luck, we should have actually moved into the new house and things might be up and running again. We shall see...

Labels: news, process