Elspeth Cooper's Blog, page 12

Of interviews, and such

I've recently ventured out of the writing cave to have a long chat with Niall over at The Speculative Scotsman, in the course of which we rode rollercoasters, chased butterflies, and talked about the voices in my head.

You can check out part 1 here; part 2 follows on Thursday. Perhaps I should point out that the bit of Newcastle where I grew up was rather more leafy and suburban than the picture accompanying the interview…

Niall's also going to be giving his thoughts on Songs of the Earth, on Wednesday.

And if you still haven't had enough of me, you might like to have a wander over to Walker of Worlds, where I've been chatting to Steve about influences, publishing myths and the appeal of organic gardening. Steve and Mark gave their impressions of Songs here, and do you know, I think they rather enjoyed it.

 

Big news – US publishing deal for Songs

I am pleased to be able to let you all know that The Wild Hunt trilogy has been picked up by Tor Books for publication in the USA, bringing the number of overseas editions to six. Songs of the Earth is expected to hit bookstore shelves in the spring of 2012, followed by Trinity Moon and The Dragon House in due course.

This is the Big Kahuna, folks – the USA is a huge market for fantasy, and notoriously difficult for a debut to break into. I can't begin to describe how stoked (and slightly scared) I am, and excited to be working with a publisher of Tor's calibre.

I have no word on covers or definite release schedules yet, but as soon as I have something I can share, I'll be sharing it. Now to find something to remove the silly grin plastered all over my face . . .

Superstition

My mother-in-law was ruled by superstition. If she dropped a piece of cutlery on the floor, it would lie there until somebody else came into the house and picked it up for her – sometimes for days.

If two knives crossed on a plate, she'd spend the rest of the day waiting for a fight to start – and heaven help anyone who spilled the salt, or opened an umbrella indoors. Just as well I never told her Rob had seen The Dress before we got married, or I might never have heard the end of it.

But me? Not a superstitious bone in my body. I've never had a lucky pen to do the lottery, and if ladders are in my way I walk under them without a qualm. Dropped a teaspoon? I pick it up. If I've just come in from the rain, I leave my umbrella open to dry in the utility room because if I close it up wet it'll go funky and smell bad.

I don't even have any writing rituals. Some habits I've got into, maybe, like writing notes longhand, but not what you'd call rituals. Or so I thought.

Last night, making a cuppa, Rob fumbled the coffee jar and dropped it onto my favourite mug. This one:

and took a gurt chip out of the edge. And what was Ms Rational's first thought? Sheer horror: how am I going to finish writing my books now?

[This space intentionally left blank for your gales of incredulous laughter]

 

I've had this mug a very long time. My best friend gave it to me years ago, for my birthday I think. I used to use it at work; first for its intended purpose, then, when I got sick of the horrible over-boiled taste of the water from the work kettle, as a pencil-pot on my desk. When I gave up the day job I started using it for tea again: it holds much more than the everyday mugs in the kitchen, which meant fewer trips up and down the stairs to refill it, and the handle was comfy to hold.

Now I am bereft. I know it's only a thing, and things are not important, but I hadn't realised just how accustomed I'd become to having it to hand whenever I was writing. Fortunately, it's not terminally cracked and I can still use it, but clearly, its days are now numbered. This will not do.

Perhaps I can exploit my husband's feelings of guilt and get him to buy me one of these:

Interview, guest blog and me talking about myself

There's going to be no getting away from me in the next few weeks, I'm afraid. Sorry about that.

Aidan Moher has very kindly invited me to write a guest post for A Dribble of Ink, whilst he has a few days off to go and do something far more interesting than blogging. I'll do my best not to tread mud into the carpets whilst I'm there. Check it out on Monday 9th May!

I'm also putting in an appearance in the June issue of Words With Jam, rubbing shoulders (figuratively speaking) with none other than J K Rowling.

Speaking of June issues, this time in print, SFX have an interview with yours truly, covering such diverse topics as Robert Holdstock, Michaelangelo, and gardening (don't worry, it'll make sense when you read it). Coming to a news-stand near you in the next couple of weeks.

Busy, busy, busy. It's a wonder I get any writing done. Enjoy!

 

Cover art, part IV

And the covers just keep on coming . . . this time from my German publisher, Heyne. Wow.

When I was down in London for the Book Fair last month, Sacha told me I could expect to see the cover art for the German edition within a couple of weeks, and very atmospheric it is too.

I love the subtle detailing. The desaturated palette makes a striking contrast to the rich colour of the other covers for Songs of the Earth, but no less effective.

As usual, click to enlarge. Hopefully I'll be able to get a higher-resolution image in due course.

Win an advance proof of Songs of the Earth

To celebrate the launch of my book, Orion are giving away five advance proofs to you lucky, lucky people. All you have to do is answer a really simple question, and your name goes into the draw. Go here – you have until 20th May 2011 – and good luck!

Oh, and for the benefit of anyone who's been under a rock/on the back side of the moon/in solitary confinement in some Level 10 slam* for the last couple of years, this is the book I'm talking about:

Go on. Click that play button, you know you wanna.

 

*with or without a horse bit in their mouth

London Book Fair 2011

On Tuesday 12th April, I went down to London Book Fair. I'd been invited  by Orion to meet up with those of my foreign publishers who were in town for the Fair, and they'd very generously thrown in a hotel for the night, so how could I possibly refuse? I've never been to the Book Fair, and I wanted to go and see what it was all about.

Plus I quite like travelling on the train. EastCoast actually make a reasonable cup of tea, and the shortbread fingers aren't half bad.

I was also hoping to catch up with a writer friend of mine, Judith Kinghorn, who'd just recently been signed by Headline and was due to be at the Fair at the same time as me. We'd first met on the writers' site Authonomy, and here we were, almost three years later, both with publishing contracts, both marvelling at our good fortune.

Anyway, I arrived at Kings Cross feeling virtuous because I'd managed to do some work on the way down. After freshening up and abandoning the Huge Blue Holdall of Doom at my hotel, I made my way over to Earls Court.

It's quite an impressive building, if you've not seen it before, with the arc of steps leading up to the numerous glass doors that wink at you rather like teeth in a wide, grinning mouth. You get a little holder for your badge in the foyer, then a chap waves a barcode scanner over your left bosom (or wherever you happen to have pinned said badge) and it's on into the exhibition space itself.

It's big. Givvus-a-bag-of-crisps big (if that reference is lost on you, scroll down). Brightly lit, and full of people, and there's books everywhere. All sorts of books. Cookbooks, kids' books, thrillers, lad lit, women's fiction, science fiction, you name it. Book porn, as far as the eye can see.

Whimper.

So I got my bearings, and headed for the Hachette UK stand on Aisle H. Head for HarperCollins' less-than-subtle signage, visible above the heads of the other stands, and it's just opposite.

And guess what was the first thing I saw? This.

Oh my sweet furry lord.

So I'm standing there, grinning like a loon, wishing I'd brought the camera instead of my crappy old mobile, and it hit me. That's my book. This is really happening.

Continuing to gawk like a country mouse on her first trip to the Big City, I took a turn around the very smart stand and admired the manor-house-drawing-room styling. Round the far side I found the meeting area, and there was my editor, Gillian Redfearn, who found me a seat and a cup of tea. Over the course of the afternoon I met pretty much the whole rights team, said hello to some old acquaintances, and played text message tag with Judith until she escaped from her various appointments and we were able to meet at last (she's lovely, and she writes beautifully atmospheric historical fiction).

Sadly, my Dutch publisher was unable to join us for drinks, but we chatted for a while as Day 2 of the Fair wound down, before we collected Stephane and Alain from Bragelonne (my French publishers) and headed off to the pub, where we were joined by Sacha from Heyne and José from Planeta (Germany and Spain respectively). We then ate well, drank well, and laughed much. I seem to remember discussing some sort of pan-European book tour/road trip/pub crawl, but that could have been the beer talking . . .

José also brought me this beautiful boxed proof of the Spanish edition of my book, which is how Planeta are sending them out to the trade. It's utterly gorgeous: the statue and the ivy are varnished so they shine out from the matt box. You expect to find expensive chocolates inside, or something equally precious. I've certainly never seen anything like it before.  The photos don't do it justice.

 

 

 

On Wednesday I had lunch with my old acquiring editor, Jo Fletcher, pretty much the grande dame of UK genre publishing, who brought me to Gollancz in the first place. It was wonderful to catch up with her; just a real shame we both had to dash off before we got to the bottom of the bottle of wine, her back to the Fair and me to Kings Cross to catch my train home.

The reality of being an almost-published author (63 days to go, not that I'm counting or anything) still hasn't quite sunk in, but I will admit to feeling a bit more like one now.

——–

McEwan's Best Scotch TV advert from some 25+ years ago. I've scoured YouTube but I can't find it, which is a shame, because it doesn't really work in text. Scene: interior, pub, barmaid is pulling a pint of the aforesaid ale (tagline: the one you've got to come back for) for a customer recently returned from Germany.

Barmaid: "So how was Munich?"

Customer: "Big."

"How was the beer festival?"

"Massive."

"And how were the lasses?"

"Oh, give us a bag of crisps."

Genre for Japan

If you haven't already heard about the Genre for Japan auction, where have you been the last few days?

Fantastic lots, many of them pure unobtainium, including critiques, artwork, stuff signed by really cool people like Neil Gaiman and Joe Abercrombie, , Stephen Deas to do with as you will (more or less) for two whole days,  . . . and personalised ARCs of M D Lachlan's Fenrir and Songs of the Earth from, er, me.

If you're a writer, a reader, connected with genre publishing or just a fan, you should check this out. Follow @GenreforJapan on Twitter or visit the website, and get browsing, get donating, get involved.

And get your bloody wallet out!

Cover art, part III

It's amazing what you find when you're poking around your website stats on  a rainy Saturday evening when there's nothing on the TV.

Flicking through the "Referrers" list, which shows me where people have come from when they land on my site, I found a site I recognised: Meulenhoff Boekerij, parent of my Dutch publisher Mynx, which led me to the cover of the Dutch edition of Songs of the Earth, a.k.a Het Lied van der Aarde. Heel mooi!

Click to make it (not very much) bigger – hopefully I'll get a higher-resolution version in due course.

First review

Always a daunting moment, reading the first review of your first book. Will it be good, filled with effusive praise about my world building, my fascinating characters and original plot? Or will it be "D-. Must try harder."

Judge for yourself, over at the Wertzone. I'll wait.

. . .

. . .

[whistles tunelessly]

. . .

. . .

Ah, you're back. Well? What did you think?

Solid, I thought. Very fair. Well pleased with the liberal use of "intriguingly" and "subtle" and "interesting", and the lack of words like "dull" and "predictable" and "unconvincing".

Cheers, Adam. The cheque's in the post.