David Burrows's Blog, page 71

October 20, 2012

London Day Out

 Lee Fomes invited Andrew and I to his new book launch in London, Art and the Abductor. What a nice and pleasant chap. I hope his book does tremendously well. The event was great and Lee sold quite a few books, so well done. He also supported Help for Heroes, a very worthy charity.

Also at the event was Richard Frankland, author of A Cast of Hawks. he stayed in the very hotel in Nairobi that my father designed, The New Stanley Hotel. Amazing.

The photo of  Andrew and I is near Westminster Abbey. Beautiful place.

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Published on October 20, 2012 09:00

October 19, 2012

Fantasy Author Admits to Plagiarising the Prophecy of the Kings


David Burrows today admitted plagiarising the fantasy novel Prophecy of the Kings. When interviewed he showed a distinct lack of regard for what he had done.
 “A lot of people do it,” he quoted, but when I pointed out that’s not true, he looked distinctly uncomfortable and started to back track.
“I acquired the novel,” he admitted, “but it needed a lot of work. The translation was poor and the manuscript was handwritten and in parts faded. I had to link some parts of the tale together where the writing was unreadable, so I did add to the tale.”
“But you do admit it wasn’t your story in the first place,” I put to him.
“Look, it’s not as if I’ve claimed to be the author,” he told me with a crooked smile.
“But you have published it,” I pointed out. At this point his smile faded. The evidence is presented below. Read it for yourself and see what you think.
I was day dreaming, staring deep into the dying embers of the coal fire, my eyeballs dry from the heat as I ignored the howl of the wind on a bitter January night. I jumped when a knock at the door interrupted my reverie. This was an insistent knock, a loud demanding knock; one that shattered the calm, refusing to be ignored. Sighing, I went to the door, angered by the loss of solitude made worse by the frigid wind that greeted me.
He was an old man with an old man's frailties. His face was long, and his flesh grey and wrinkled. Dark bags beneath his eyes suggested insomnia, the curse of the old.
"Yes," I said, not hiding the anger that I felt.
"I need to speak with you," he snapped, seemingly equally irritable.
"Do I know you?" I asked, for his tone was one of a relative, making demands.
I did not like his look and was already pushing the door to when, remarkably swift for an old man, an arthritic claw grabbed the door and a boot thudded against the base.
I was scared now. He had shocked me. Feral eyes locked on mine, deep dark and accusing. "I need to talk," he insisted.
My first thoughts were to call for help. Phone the police perhaps, but that would be too late. He was wild ... a mad man standing halfway in my house. The simplest course seemed to be to let him in and listen to his ramblings, after all he was an old man and what harm could he do?
As he swept inside, I noticed for the first time his attire. It was outlandish to say the least, a long flowing tunic, grimed with dirt, and the cuffs frayed. At one time it had probably been blue, a deep rich colour, but under the dirt it was now hard to say. He smelt old, and a scent lingered that I found hard to place, but an image of a dragon swept to mind and I shivered, even though the door was now shut.
With a thud he dropped a sizeable doorstep of papers on the coffee table. The paper was sun-bleached and aged as much as he was. I shook my head; it was going to be a long night.
As I sat, a hand shot out and with strength belittling his years seemed to seek to crush my bones as though talking was insufficient to hold my attention. Well that did it; he had my attention now as dread coursed through my veins.
"I am Vastra," he announced as though it was of some importance. "Vastra," he repeated, his mouth agape. .
"My arm," I wheedled for I did not relish the pain.
He looked at me, before releasing his grasp. My wrist was red and burned still from his grip. The wind rattled the window, deepening the mood.
"I have done much wrong and I need to atone," he said, looking at me fiercely. I nodded and he sat back. His eyes swept around the room, glancing at the TV and the hi-fi, but somehow unseeing.
"I did them all wrong. I betrayed them, but I tried ... in the end. Oh, yes, I tried. It is in the manuscript, I have written it all down. A labour of love some would say, but to me it is a curse, for my part in it was real, too real and the impact had repercussions across the world, ours and theirs."
"Theirs?" I asked.
He nodded. "Demons. Dragons," he said in a hushed voice
I believed him. Why shouldn't I?
"Go on," I said, enthralled.
"I was an ambitious fool. I thought that I controlled the imp, but I didn't."
When he said the word imp, something appeared, hovering by his side. A small demon-like creature, hairless, a green glow emanating from deep within its flesh. I jumped and could not hide my fear.
"Do not worry," he sneered, glancing at the creature. "It is a memory, a shaol, a guardian spirit. That is all...
"Some guardian though! I can see yours, faint across the expanse of time. He will protect you as best he can; a sixth sense in the darkest hour. But why did I trust an imp? I was warned, by my friends... but I knew better, and the very people who would have helped me, I ignored, and worse, betrayed."
His gaze dropped and the final word was barely a whisper. A tear slid down his cheek and fell upon the manuscript.
"No one is alone," I said. "You must have friends, talk to them."
He sniffed wiping the tears with his cuff, shaking his head. "I cannot, for I am banished from that world. Shastlan understood. The ghost of a dead emperor, exiled from his own world for deeds as bad as mine. What a pair we made, arrogant and foolish, engrossed in our own self-importance.
"And what of the people I betrayed. Kaplyn. As good a friend as any, but so far beneath my ambitious scheming. Of all the people, I hurt him the worst. I would make amends, but I cannot.
"Because of me, his family and friends all died. I was responsible for Shastlan becoming his shaol. Mad whispering in the dark of the night. And dragons! An evil curse to blight the world. Demons and dragons, the choice was unfair. How could anyone choose and remain sane?"
"Surely it cannot be that bad," I said when he fell silent, his gaze riveted to the manuscript.
"Read it," he said through clenched teeth. "Judge me then, not before. I must atone."
"How is this atoning?" I said. "You chastise yourself with a stick of your own making. How can I be your judge? Surely your friends have judged and forgiven you. Everyone has a spark of good deep within. They must have seen yours."
"Read it! " he insisted.
I picked it up. Reverently. It was heavy as though weighted by the souls of the damned. When I looked up, he was gone. Yet the tearstain on the cover was as real as anything I had ever seen.
The Prophecy of the Kings , the title said. Flicking to the back cover it was signed Vastra.
Having now read the manuscript I wonder at our meeting. Was he a shoal, or a restless spirit wandering the worlds seeking redemption? Of one thing I am certain, if his world was real then the tale must be told. By doing so, it honours the dead, and forgives those who need to be forgiven.
Excuse me then for claiming to be the author. It is a wondrous story and it will move you. As you read, think then upon Vastra, and Shastlan. Perhaps we can find it in our hearts to forgive, for now I know why so many people in their worlds would not. But then, that was Vastra's intent, and if he knocks on your door in the dead of night, listen to his tale. It will move you, as it has moved me.
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Published on October 19, 2012 03:31

October 14, 2012

Battle of Hastings


 This is me before the battle. After the battle I was covered in mud and clearly very dead. The Saxon left wing was drawn off Senlac Ridge into a Norman ambush. This year there wasn't as many cavalry as in 2006, so we held our own and I actually managed to run back o my own lines. Not bad carrying all the armour, shield etc. Heavy stuff. Marvellous for a writer to take party in an event like this though. You really get an experience in a shield wall, especially facing cavalry and archers. 2006 was amazing as there were 100 cavalry. Along the line from me a horse failed to stop and hit a man who was thrown 20' out of the shield wall. Not surprising given the mass of the horse. A previous time a horse stood on a friends foot, breaking his toe. Very wet this year though and the wettest yet. Previous battles have been in warm October sunshine. This was so wet when you stood still a puddle formed around your feet. Another big event coming up n 2016!
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Published on October 14, 2012 01:04

October 2, 2012

Sore nipples

Now this is something that a bloke shouldn't talk about, but as a runner I feel I have a slight let off. Five miles with a wet T-shirt is enough to give anyone a pain. I refuse to use Vaseline as I don't want to ruin my T-shirts. Plasters are out of the question as I have a hairy chest and rather adverse to the pain my wife inflicts, tearing a plaster off.

But what has this to do with fantasy writing. It's a mundane pain like this that fantasy heroes never seem to suffer from. I mean - when was the last time the hero said, "my chain mail is rubbing the old nips rather raw today."

Or are they simply made of sterner stuff than us? I have made my heroes suffer sever pain, yet they never get a splinter, a paper cut or nipple rub. I think, in my next novel, there may have to be some changes!
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Published on October 02, 2012 10:56

September 30, 2012

A newbie at FantasyCon - 2012, Brighton

Wow, what can I say. I really enjoyed it. It was brilliant meeting Brent Weeks and Joe Abercrombie. My son is very much a Brent Week's fan whereas I like both authors. Mind you he hasn't read Joe's books yet! Both are very gritty writers. But, what nice people. We heard both giving readings in a very pleasant and personal environment. They both gave stunning performances, but Brent had a very brilliant twist to his. It was all about Spoilers so I can't say anything here in respect to the great man, but it was awesome and had his fans groaning in a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

The event itself was also brilliant. Very few fans though and rather a lot of authors and publishers. There were book signings by lots of different publishing houses. Reading by authors, freebies etc. Great mixture of characters. I met some really nice and genuine folk. Chris of Pendragon Press, Terry from Exagerated press.

The venue is also interesting, Brighton. However, it's a tad expensive. Brighton is always lively and probably would have been better if we'd know our way around better. The pubs, hotel and especially parking were all very expensive and probably explained the absence of fans.


Overall though - an amazing experience.
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Published on September 30, 2012 05:40

September 26, 2012

FantasyCon - Oh Dear!

Off to FantasyCon this weekend. It's organised by the British Fantasy Society. Not sure what I'll make of it as I've not been before. I have visions of Sheldon and Leonard (Big Bang Theory) going to something similar - fantasy convention. Does that make me a nerd?

Anyway, I hope it will be fun. My son wants to meet Brent Weeks. He's just finished The Black Prism and is raving about it. I hope to read it soon.

I have just read The Dwarves by Markus Heitz. Very slow book to start with but what an ending! Excellent read. Characterisation is brilliant with some characters extremely likeable and others less so. It's a hit in Europe and the chap deserves to do well everywhere. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Lots of twists and turns and unexpected parts to the plot. Good fun.
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Published on September 26, 2012 10:24

September 22, 2012

Hobbit Trailer 2

Doesn't the new hobbit trailer look good. very exciting stuff. This is the link to a wide screen version on Apple. http://trailers.apple.com/trailers/wb...

I loved the book and have read it four or five times. I have a version with artwork in it and it's brilliant. Is the rumour still that Jackson will make 3 films?
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Published on September 22, 2012 11:27

September 16, 2012

Sex talk and fantasy novels

Been thinking about introducing sex on my blog to boost my audience. Now, I want you all to imagine me topless as I write my novels. Nothing too tasteless to start off with. Just sitting in front of my laptop creating fantasy novels. Now, if no one has been too sick...

Perhaps that would make a good Poll. To have folk vote whether I should keep my clothes on or not. No doubt many folk will pay for me to remain clothed. I was amused by the recent Sherlock Holmes' film when Stephen Fry appeared naked, with the very old butler trying to serve him his afternoon tea. If nothing else it made for good comedy.

Please feel free to vote by commenting below.
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Published on September 16, 2012 09:04

September 15, 2012

My best ever reviews - the Prophecy of the Kings

As a less well established author, reviews are terrifically important. My favourite ones are usually on fantasy blog sites as these have an established reputation. Theses are amongst my favourite to date. I hope they prompt you to give the books a try. All reviews are genuine and links lead to the full review.

Prophecy of the Kings is amongst the best new traditional fantasy books published during recent yearshttp://en.risingshadow.net/ Prophecy of the Kings - a phenomenal series and should not be missed http://sfbook.com/
By far my favourite review though was by Neo on Kindleboards;

I'm halfway through Shadow of the Demon (book 3) and couldn't agree more: this is a fantastic trilogy, one of the most enjoyable reads I have had in a while, really! Now it's getting bitter sweet though: can't wait to read what happens next (and how it finishes) and I NEED to read on, but I also don't want it to end and so find myself slowing down, aaaargh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing it and bringing your readers such a good time through it David Smiley http://www.kindleboards.com/index.php/topic,24029.0.html

That was such a heartfelt review. Amazing and thanks all. Keep the reviews coming please!

David

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Published on September 15, 2012 05:09

My worst ever reviews - Prophecy of the Kings

Fortunately most reviews have been good but all authors get bad reviews. I have no problem with folk not enjoying my books. I wish everyone did, but even Tolkien had folk who didn't take to his work.

My worst reviews came in a gaggle. Not sure that's the right terminology, but it seem apt. i.e. they came together on Goodreads. It was a time of giveaways. I suspect in some cases folk just wanted a freebie. For the worst reviews, looking through their libraries, some reviewers didn't seem to be fantasy fans.

The advantage of being self published is that I post sample chapters on my website http://davidburrows.org.uk/ so I think some of the folk were perhaps less justified in their comments. Still, you can't complain and you have to live with less than complementary reviews.

One that baffled me completely was Utter twaddle. This book combines ye olde English with modern London slang. It can't figure out what it's supposed to be.

I don't know any London slang. Dog and bone (phone) perhaps. Ye Olde English??? As an author folk are entitled to say what they like, but this one was a complete and utter mystery.

Fortunately most reviews are fairly well balanced whether they are complementary or not. And, as I say, most reviews have been good today. So if you've read Prophecy of the Kings and not posted a review, please think about doing so. They are important to me. Amazon reviews are helpful as they help to sell the books.

Bets wishes and good reading

David
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Published on September 15, 2012 04:40