Monthly Archives: September 2011

The Scar by Sergey and Marina Dyachenko

Wowee. Wonderful cover. (Weird, though, that it has the same title as another Tor title, written by mega-personality, China Mieville.) If only I knew who the artist was, so I could slaver over the rest of their art. Looks a little like Justin Sweet, but I’m not convinced.

Continuing their newfound tradition of mining Eastern Europe/Russia for popular, untranslated works (like Alexei Pehov’s Shadow Prowler), The Scar is coming over to North American shores after finding much critical success in its homeland.

Reaching far beyond sword and sorcery, The Scar is a story of two people torn by disaster, their descent into despair, and their reemergence through love and courage. Sergey and Marina Dyachenko mix dramatic scenes with romance, action and wit, in a style both direct and lyrical. Written with a sure artistic hand, The Scar is the story of a man driven by his own feverish demons to find redemption and the woman who just might save him.

Egert is a brash, confident member of the elite guards and an egotistical philanderer. But after he kills an innocent student in a duel, a mysterious man known as “The Wanderer” challenges Egert and slashes his face with his sword, leaving Egert with a scar that comes to symbolize his cowardice. Unable to end his suffering by his own hand, Egert embarks on an odyssey to undo the curse and the horrible damage he has caused, which can only be repaired by a painful journey down a long and harrowing path. Toria, the woman whose fiancé Egert killed, hates Egert, and is saddened and numb, but comes to forgive the drastically changed Egert.

Plotted with the sureness of Robin Hobb and colored with the haunting and ominous imagination of Michael Moorcock, The Scar tells a story that cannot be forgotten.

It sounds like a tight, personal story, which is something I always appreciate in a novel. There’s also something to be said about Fantasy conventions and settings being approached by people raised in other countries and cultures (Ukraine, in this case). It’s firmly on my rader for that reason alone (and, well, that cover. Yum!)

(The final sentence of that blurb is patently ridiculous, though, no matter how good the book is.)

THE SACRED BAND by David Anthony DurhamFrom the comments section on Durham’s blog:

Jussi:

Mr Durham, do you have any news about the UK publication of The Sacred Band?

Durham:
I wish I did. My British publisher has been dragging their feet. I think my editor is supportive, but the number crunchers are complaining that The Other Lands didn’t sell as many copies as they wanted. The verdict is still out on whether they’re going to bite or not, but the delay isn’t a good sign.

[…]

If you could help sell a few more copies of TOL in the UK that might help. Or, just buy the US edition. ;)

What a bunch of bullshit. Even more egregious than Tor’s treatment of The Price of Spring by Daniel Abraham, but even more disrespectful towards fans of the series by withholding the book entirely. Bantam’s not happy with sales of the series. Okay, fine. Publishing’s a business. But it’s also a business of building and maintaining a relationship with an enormous, dedicated group of fans who support the company by buying their books on a regular basis. This is just a reminder, however, that there comes a time when a publisher should ditch their pride, cut their losses and do something for the fans, rather than strictly for the bottom line.

Adam Whitehead points out some similarities to Bantam’s treatment of Paul Kearney’s The Sea Beggars:

Bantam UK does seem to be the most drop-happy of the UK SF&F publishers, having canned Paul Kearney’s Sea-Beggars series after the second volume. In fact, the circumstances seem to be almost exactly the same: they market Book 1 strongly and it sells quite well. Then Book 2 sneaks out with no fanfare at all and sinks without a trace (I had no idea The Other Lands was on its way until it was already on the shelf). They then panic at the under-performance of the second volume and drop the series. The only difference is that with Kearney they also retitled the second book just a few weeks before release, completely confusing the few people who did know it was coming out.

Famously, Kearney nearly quit writing as a result of that fiasco. Durham, however, is more optimistic:

I was (well, I still am) planning on going to cons here, promoting the series, doing what I could on UK soil to help the series. I still will, but it’s a bit of a bummer not to have a British edition in hand as I do so. (And yes, my UK publisher does know that I’m here for the year.)

I think there’s still a good chance they will publish it here in some version, but, no, clearly it’s not going to be the full press of a large format paperback that comes out near the US edition.

No matter how you cut it, Bantam looks like a bad guy here. I can buy into the Bantam dropping an author after the conclusion of his or her sales, but it’s not easy to justify leaving fans high-and-dry by cutting them off from the concluding volume. Hell, purchase the US edits and release a damn eBook edition (where overhead cost is low) and allow fans at least some opportunity to finish the series. Is there any chance of Durham doing this himself? Luckily, in the case of The Sacred Band (but not the case in Kearney’s series), UK readers can import the novel from the states. But, really, is that an acceptable solution? Not even close.

Do better next time, Bantam.

TOUCHSTONE by Melanie Rawn

The most noticeable thing about this cover for Rawn fans? It’s not To Captal’s Tower. Besides that, I kinda like it. It’s incredibly schlocky in that 80s-D&D-novel kind of way, but there’s a charm to that. This is Fantasy and makes no qualms about it.

SPELLBOUND by Blake Charlton (UK Edition)Yesterday, we celebrated the release of Blake Charlton’s Spellbound by releasing Chapter Three. Today, we’re back with Chapter Four!


 

Chapter Four

 

With Deirdre in her arms, Francesca charged up the eastern stairs. Her ability to speak had returned, but orange spots still swam in her blurry vision.

As she climbed another flight of steps, Francesca allowed herself to feel burning fear and confusion. Then she forced herself to relax. It was time to fall back on the oldest of physicians’ tricks: when inner composure was unattainable, its semblance must be worn like an actor’s costume and cosmetics.

“You know, my lady,” Francesca said as coolly as she could between breaths, “you might have found a way to improve medical training by making me run you up to the roof.”

Deirdre frowned. “How’s that?”

“When most clerics blunder, all they have to do is attend a funeral.”

Deirdre grunted. “But if we made physicians carry their mistakes up six flights?”

“We’d enter a golden age of near immortality. Only the very skinny would be allowed to die.”
The avatar sniffed with amusement. “Magistra, are you implying I’m fat?”

“A tiny little thing like you? Never. I could fit two of you in my belt purse.” Francesca repositioned her grip around the other woman as she turned up another flight.

“So now you are implying I’m short?”

“No, my lady, I wouldn’t dare offend an avatar.”
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