Victoria Grossack's Blog, page 3

The Other Side of the Slush Pile

by Victoria Grossack

As a writer you probably spend much of your time preparing your manuscripts for submission. But what happens to your darlings after you send them to seek their (and your) fortune? Are your words reaching the hearts and minds of the jaded agents, editors, and judges? Or are they being ignored?

This article discusses what it’s like to receive submissions by describing my own experience in the area. My co author and I run a poetry contest at our website, Tapestry of Bronze.com. Twice a year we hold an Odes to the Olympians contest, in which we select one of the twelve Olympian gods and ask for poems to be written about that particular deity.

Why Do They Want Your Writing?
You may wonder why we run this contest. This, by the way, is a good question to ask regarding all the places where you submit: Why do the agents – editors – judges really want manuscripts? In most cases it is because they want to sell the manuscripts further, either to publishing houses or to the general public. They want specific manuscripts because they don’t feel capable of selling just anything to their particular contacts. An editor of science textbooks would probably not know what to do (at least not professionally) with a romance novel.

As we are running a contest, we don’t expect a profit, at least not directly. We do hope to build up some good will and publicity for our series of novels (currently only available in Greek). But we have other motives, too. Our competitions pay homage to the many competitions of ancient Greece, which brought us the great sporting events of the Olympics, but was also the spur for the creation of many plays and other works of art. We want to encourage the same dedication to excellence.

We particularly want to support educators teaching mythology, so each contest has two levels: those for poets under 18, and those for adults. In order to make sure that the poets are under 18 we ask for the birthdates of those entering in this category.

So far the contest has been successful, for we receive hundreds of entries, as well as gratitude from educators and poets for holding the contest.

Ask yourself before you submit something, what other motives your targets might have besides money. A political agenda? A desire to further a religion or some other cause? Does your manuscript help support those desires?

Will Submissions Arrive?
When we began the Odes to the Olympians contest – dutifully honoring Zeus in our first competition – we were afraid no poems would show up. This initial insecurity is probably shared by most agents and editors and judges. We thought our contest was cool, but that didn’t mean that others would think so. And even if they would, we weren’t sure how to reach them.

A greater worry troubled us: what if none of the poems we received were good? We didn’t want to give prizes to bad poems. So we reserved the right, when posting the rules, to award nothing, if no poems merited first place. However, we really did not want to be in that position. Declaring “no winners” could make it appear as if we were lousy at publicity, or cheap, or suffering from some other type of disorganization. Poetry contests without winners are bad poetry contests.

This anxiety must be shared by those depending on other slush piles. In fact, their anxiety must be greater as they review submissions, because their careers, their publications and their companies depend on them finding the right manuscripts.

Not surprisingly, we didn’t have a huge number of submissions during the first contest. Fortunately, several that came were very good and we were able to choose winners. Since then, the number of submissions has increased dramatically and a lack of entries is no longer a concern.

The Submissions Arrive
After a new contest is posted, the submissions start to arrive at the e-mail address dedicated to the contest. I begin by scanning each poem briefly, to see if the poem meets the requirements for the contest. Most do, but there are always a few poems that have nothing to do with the deity being honored. During a contest for the goddess Demeter, someone sent a poem honoring Zeus and another sent one for Aphrodite. Another poet sent in four poems in separate e-mails, none of which had anything to do with any of the Olympian gods (as far as I could tell).

I wonder what these poets are thinking. Did they simply not read the instructions? Or did they read an old version of the instructions? Or did they think that we would be so moved by their poems that we would consider awarding a poet who praised Aphrodite in a contest dedicated to Demeter? Most probably, though, they were just hungry for someone to read and appreciate their poems. I can understand that. I respond with e-mails that I believe are polite and kind, thanking them for their poems but reminding them of the rules of the contest. Occasionally someone tries to argue, but not usually.

I review the rest of the information in the e-mail. Mostly I want to be sure that I have enough information to classify the poet as an adult or in the under-18 category. I have to ask this question frequently, which shows that many don’t follow instructions. I send off an e-mail thanking the poet for his or her poem, and then, if necessary, request the missing information.

Most respond with the information quickly and without ado. Once one of the poets was “wounded” - poets are a particularly sensitive species - when we asked if she was in the adult category. Her poem was too good, she was sure, to belong to the under-18 category – had we even read it?

I replied that no, we had not read it. I explain that we try not to read the poems until after they have been processed – stripped of their names and put into the right categories – and placed into a file with all other poems in their category. (Furthermore, that day we had received over 30 poems.)

My response seemed to mollify the poet in question.

The Contest Closes
Shortly before the end of the contest period, I prepare the html file that goes on the website announcing that the contest is closed. When the last day of the contest is over (making allowance for the fact that people live in different time zones), I post this file.

A few poems arrive, alas, after the contest is closed. These poems are not allowed to participate in the contest. A competition has rules, and those rules need to be followed, or else it would be unfair to the other poets.

Processing the Poems
Next the poems are copied and put into two files. At this point all the extra formatting – strange fonts and colors – is removed. Each poem is assigned a number. I copy over the files again, and this time strip out the names. I send the files without names to my collaborator.

Then it’s time to read the poems. This takes many hours, because there are hundreds of poems. I have to take many breaks to keep them from blurring together as I read.

It’s hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. Even in poems that really are not very good, bits of creativity excite me. Still, I have to do this, or the task will never be done, so I start writing “NO” beside some of the poems. The “NO” appears for a variety reasons. The poem may simply contain inaccurate information about the god or the goddess. The poem may lack rhythm, or have a rhyme that is forced and hurts the meaning. Often a poem contains a great verse or two, but the others don’t work as well. One poem is quite good but, alas, it goes over the line limit. (There has to be a line limit or some poets would submit epics.) The too-long poem gets a “NO” beside it.

Other poems get a “MAYBE” written beside them. These poems are better than the “NO” poems, but they aren’t so good that they are automatic winners. And yet I think I may have not read them carefully enough; that I may have missed something. Some poems take longer to digest.

And then, a few gems appear. Poems that unite theme, and language, and evoke a deeper feeling. Poems that somehow show instead of tell. I write “I LIKE THIS!” beside a few. I review the MAYBES again, too, until I have one or two that I think are candidates for First Place, and others worthy of Honorable Mention.

My co author undertakes a similar procedure, without ever having seen the names of the poets. When ready, we e-mail the numbers of our preferred poems to each other. Sometimes there is quick agreement; other times we discuss and need more than one phone session to determine our choices. We pick the winners – with an extra double-check to make sure that students are not over 18 and that we have e-mail addresses – and the honorable mentions.

Another point to take away from this column: for your manuscript to climb out of the slush pile, it often needs to please not just one set of eyes, but several.

Informing the Winners
Then we inform the winners. Even though this is all done by e-mail, we can feel the delight in their responses. We share in their joy – it’s a marvelous feeling.

We ask a few administration-related questions. We want to know the names of local newspapers, so that we can release press statements. We need the winners’ addresses so that we can send them their certificates (which include pictures of olive wreaths, the traditional prize in such contests in Classical Greece). We also ask how they would like to be paid. The amount of the prize is $50 (US), but as we are an international contest – we don’t ask where poets are, but some contestants obviously hail from places such as Kenya, South Africa, New Zealand and India – not everyone can handle an American check. If they can’t, we suggest PayPal or an Amazon gift certificate or perhaps a wire transfer to a local bank account.

I struggle to get the new html page ready, to showcase the poems of the winners and the honorable mentions. I try not to misspell anyone’s name; alas, I still do it occasionally, upsetting those whose names have been distorted. A quick edit improves things, and happiness is restored.

Prepare for the Next One
In the meantime, my co author and I decide which deity we’ll honor next, and which picture we’ll use on the webpage. I struggle again with the html but somehow manage to prepare it and upload it. The process begins again.

Conclusion
I hope this article helps you see the other side of the manuscript process – at least from the POV of a contest judge. There’s one last point that I want to make: the judges, the agents, and the editors are people too, with feelings and faults, hopes and sorrows, aspirations and disappointments.

If you're interested in the current contest, go to www.tapestryofbronze.com/OdeForm.html. At the time this was posted - September 2011 - the deity being honored is Artemis/Diana.

Victoria Grossack and Alice Underwood are authors of four novels based on Greek mythology:

For more information on their books please visit their website: www.tapestryofbronze.com where you can also find maps and a pronunciation guide and poems that won prior contests.

A version of this column appeared earlier in Fiction Fix at www.coffeehouseforwriters.com

Levels of Structure in Fiction

Writers need to be aware of their writing at many different levels. I'm not talking just about the story and the characters, but the different structural elements of their work. Writing can be examined word by word - rather like a tree approach - or it can be viewed globally, that is to say, the level that is more like the forest.

This post describes the different levels of structure that should be considered and mastered by the writer, for each level provides different opportunities and pitfalls. I will go from the lowest level to the highest, and give a few thoughts describing each.

Letters. You might expect words to be the lowest level of structure, but remember that words are comprised of letters. After all, you have to type each letter, one at a time, and if you don't pick the right letters you can change your meaning completely.

Typos and misunderstandings aside, letters have significance in other ways. Perhaps you are describing an alien culture. Could these people say all the words which we can say? Or should you restrict the alphabet which you are using? Or if you are naming your characters, you may want to make sure that the names begin with different letters, to make the reading easier on your audience.

Words. Words are an obvious element of structure for the writer. First of all, the writer needs to know the precise meanings of words. Recently I read a sample where someone wrote: "He rumbled his brow." Given the rest of the writing, I don't think this was a typo, but a misunderstanding of the language. Nevertheless, what the writer really wanted to say was: "He rumpled his brow."

Knowing the meanings of words is the first requirement. But you should understand more about the words you use for your books. Words also have fascinating origins: embedded in them is a history of the development of the English language. We can go back to 1066 AD and the time of the Norman invasion, when French-speaking invaders conquered the Saxons, who spoke a Germanic variant. From our language today, you can tell who was inside, dining on good meats, and who was stuck laboring in the fields. For example: pork resembles the French word porc, which means pig. But what is the word for the poor fellow minding the pigs? Swineherd, which is very similar to the German word, Schweinhirte.

Some words are considered vulgar; some words may be too difficult for your
readership; some may be too easy. Some words can evoke a period of time: groovy. Some you can use frequently, because they are common and the reader is not struck by them, such as the, said, and it. Others are uncommon and must be used sparingly, or their repetition will jolt the reader out of your story and back into the real world. For example, you would not want to use the word flabbergasted repeatedly, would you?

Phrases. Phrases are somewhere between words and sentences, but they are still worthy of your attention. Phrases can illustrate how your characters think, can demonstrate metaphors which belong to your character's way of life. For example, Augustus Caesar used to say "as quick as boiled asparagus" when he meant something would be done speedily. Phrases follow many of the same rules as words, in that you don't want to repeat the uncommon ones too often.

Sentences. Much can be written - in fact, has been written - on the art of
writing sentences. You need, of course, to have a firm command of the rules which govern sentences, so you know what is acceptable and what is not. Beyond that, the options are numerous. Long sentences slow down the reader and the story, which may be good occasionally; shorter ones speed things up. Varying your sentence structure is also good, to avoid a monotonous beat in your work.

Paragraphs. A paragraph usually contains one or more sentences. Paragraphs, I believe, are often not given enough attention by writers when they're editing. The sentences within a paragraph need to be organized logically, supplying your readers what they need to know, in the correct
order.

To better understand paragraphs let me refer you to Strunk and White's The Elements of Style, from section 13: "If the subject on which you are writing is of slight extent, or if you intend to treat it briefly, there may be no need to divide it into topics. Ordinarily, however, a subject requires division into topics, each of which could be dealt within a paragraph. The object of treating each topic in a paragraph by itself is, of course, to aid
the reader."

Scenes. A scene usually is composed of several paragraphs, and serves to show some piece of action or reaction on the part of your story and your characters. Again, there are numerous books and articles which describe how to write scenes, including setting the scene, build-up, and the climax.

Chapters. Breaking from one chapter to the next often includes a change of scene. In fact, some writers choose now to put only one scene in each chapter, which often makes for many, many very short chapters. These books don't usually end up on my list of favorites, as the writing seems too choppy, but some of them make the bestseller lists anyway, so one scene per
chapter is an alternative.

What if you prefer to have more than one scene per chapter? How do you decide which scenes go into a chapter, and when the chapter should break? Scenes which contribute to a single event in your book may be grouped together for a chapter. A chapter break implies, also, a greater shift in your story than is implied by just a shift in scene.

You may have greater goals for your chapters. One goal might be to have them
all be about the same in size and scope, which does help your readers relax
into a rhythm. I confess to writing cliff-hangers at the end of most of
mine, although I occasionally mete out mercy and conclude a chapter on a
less dramatic moment.

Books. Books are organized into chapters, and when you look at the
chapters of your novel, the structure of how you have told the story should
be obvious to you. Are you giving enough time and space to the events which
matter? Is there a pattern to the book? For example, in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy's first proposal takes place at a point which, at least in my edition, is exactly halfway through the book' pages.

Series. Perhaps your ambitions are great, and you want to write not just
one book, but several which are related to each other. Some of the same issues apply: how do they relate to each other? Should they be similar or should they be different? Do they stand alone or must they be read together?

Other Literature. You may think about how your books relate to each other, but have you also considered how they relate to other pieces of literature? After all, even if you are not creating the other pieces of literature, i.e., you are not responsible for them; your readers are presumably reading other books than those written by you.

There are many ways you can analyze how your works fit in with other pieces
of literature. Perhaps you are writing genre fiction, for example, cozy
mysteries. Will your mysteries satisfy the readers of that genre? You can
analyze your work in a competitive way: is it better or worse than other
contenders in the field? Or you can view your writing as complementary, or
even as part of a conversation. I consider my novel, Jocasta: The Mother-Wife of Oedipus, as a 3000-year-overdue response to Sophocles' Oedipus Rex.

If you are submitting a non fiction book proposal, you are often expected to
include a competitive market analysis, in which you explicitly compare your
project with other books on the market. Even though this course presumes you
are writing fiction - the same sort of competitive market analysis will help
you. Editors and agents want to understand your target market for fiction
even more than for non-fiction.

Conclusion
Writing, of course, can be analyzed in other ways as well, for there are
many other levels of structure. What I have described is vertical approach
to structure, starting from the least - letters, and moving to your book's
or series' place in the universe of literature. I have given only a short
description of some the issues at each level; many more issues exist. Having
a thorough understanding of each level - preferably a mastery of each level
- will benefit your writing immensely.

A version of this blog appeared at www.coffeehouseforwriters.com, where Victoria Grossack teaches online classes in the areas of Historical Fiction, Creating Character, and Levels of Structure in Fiction - the last class being the one students need most. She is also the author, with Alice Underwood, of the following four novels:Jocasta: The Mother-Wife of Oedipus, Children of Tantalus: Niobe and Pelops,The Road to Thebes: Niobe and Amphion and Arrows of Artemis: Niobe and Chloris. The first two are also available in Greek. For more information, visit www.tapestryofbronze.com.

Why Myth Matters

By Victoria Grossack & Alice Underwood

"She has the Midas touch." "That's his Achilles' heel." Phrases from the myths of the ancient Greeks have colored our language and literature from Homer to the present. It's extraordinary that these stories – conceived on the shores of the Mediterranean more than three thousand years ago – still mean so much today.

After all, the last few millennia have witnessed titanic advances in human understanding. We no longer believe that rainbows are bridges used by Iris, the messenger of the gods; we know the sun is not pulled across the sky by Helios and his fiery steeds. We have found concrete explanations for these and many other phenomena. So, what relevance can tales told around campfires by half-civilized warriors armed with swords of bronze possibly hold for people who have televisions and cell phones?

In many ways, our modern world of scientific reason gives us new grounds for turning to the ancient stories. Thanks to the ever-accelerating speed of change in the areas of technology, information, travel – even our shifting relationships with one another on both a personal and global scale – life often feels hopelessly chaotic. There's so much noise that it's hard to find meaning; there is literally so much happening that it's difficult to feel connected.

But shared experiences, through stories, offer a means of contact. The conquests of Alexander and Caesar brought the Greek myths into the common heritage of many peoples across the globe. These myths help to connect us across barriers of distance and culture, and make all of us who share this heritage part of a tradition that has endured for thousands of years.

Yet we don't treasure these stories only because they're old. They have been handed down for a reason. Over dozens of centuries, people of many cultures have found enough meaning in these legends to preserve them against fire, flood, invasion, change of language or ruler, and the very onslaught of time itself. Although worship of the Olympian gods has mostly faded away, their myths are still with us; the stories remain. The tales themselves, even in the absence of the religious tradition that brought them forth, have kept their power to enchant and to entertain.

Why should that be? What makes these stories so good?

One answer is that the ancient Greeks told of gods and heroes who were larger than life but still fundamentally human. Not for them the infallible, the unknowable, the omnipresent: the kings and queens of legend – and even the gods themselves – had human flaws and virtues. In the myths we see jealousy, anger, forgetfulness, cruelty, foolishness, betrayal – but also bravery, compassion, self-sacrifice, creativity, devotion and love. The heroes of myth struggle against tremendous obstacles, including their own personal failings; sometimes, as with Odysseus’ long journey or the twelve labors of Herakles, they must persevere for years. Such stories encouraged a culture in which the drive for achievement was respected and honored.

And the Greeks have long prized excellence. Herodotus recounts how King Xerxes of Persia was taken aback when he learned that the victor’s prize in the Olympic Games was only a wreath made of twigs and leaves: “What kind of men are these,” he exclaimed, “who compete among themselves for honor alone?” Contests in which the best story, song, or play took the honors have a long tradition in Greek history: the myths handed down to us have been tested against very high standards.

One aspect of the myths' merit is the enduring strength of their patterns. Human beings are relentless pattern seekers: in science, literature, and in life, pattern offers a way to sort out the chaos of our lives. And the patterns supplied by the ancient Greek stories have been used as templates by thinkers from Plato to Sigmund Freud to George Lucas, endlessly interpreted and reinvented. One may journey through the same myth over and over again, and each time discover something new.

Today's world can be a confusing and scary place – but every era has had its terrors. The mythological landscape was not a Disneyland full of rosy-cheeked nymphs and cheerful dryads. While there was great beauty, to be sure, danger was often present and could sometimes be overcome only through terrible sacrifice. The Greek myths tell us that we can't always count on a happy ending – and yet, even with all the evils of Pandora's Box loosed upon the world, we still have Hope. The legends show us men and women struggling against external challenges and with their own shortcomings: sometimes losing and sometimes winning, in patterns that have stood the test of time and that will outlast any mortal soul.

Over time, the best of these tales have been told and re-told in dozens of languages: in operas and comic books, in puppet shows and podcasts. The shared storylines give us common points of reference, a common set of symbols to draw upon. The ancient Greek myths connect us not only to those Bronze Age warriors of three thousand years ago but also to all those who came after, to each other today, and to the generations yet to come.

AUTHOR NOTES

Victoria Grossack & Alice Underwood are the authors of


NS Gill of About.com Ancient History has the following to say about the trilogy: “This smooth flow is one of
the virtues of the series, which I think comes from having two writers intimately involved in the entire process....The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell the myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences... The 'Children of Tantalus' series is definitely worth reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology.”


For more information about Grossack & Underwood and their work, visit
Tapestry of Bronze.

The Writer's Marathon

Seven Challenges of Creating a Successful Series

Victoria Grossack

The first novel may not be done yet, so transforming it into a series may seem like far-flung fantasy. Still, most writers dream of having not one successful book but a whole set of them. This article looks at the particular challenges of creating a successful series.

Series give great benefits to readers: they can return to a world which they enjoyed, and satisfy their continuing curiosity about beloved characters. Writers benefit, too: they don’t have to start the creativity process from scratch, and book two may be easier to sell than book one. Publishers are also happy being able to make an easy decision and rake in the spoils. So, a successful series is worthwhile for all parties concerned. But it’s an enormous task with special pitfalls that happen only when writing a set of interlocking books. Before you embark on the greatest of marathon writing projects, you should be aware of the challenges that make a series of books more difficult than stand-alone projects.

Challenge # 1: The story takes a long time to complete

With a story spanning over several books, there is always the possibility that the readers or even the authors may never get there. Real life intervenes. Twelve years passed between Jean Auel’s publication of The Plains of Passage and The Shelters of Stone. Decades went by between the third and fourth books of Asimov’s Foundation series. Would-be authors should ask themselves if they have the interest and the stamina for such a long journey.

Challenge #2: The books mean a more constrained universe for creativity

One of the biggest challenges is that the author, in book two, should live with the consequences of book one. It may mean having to do without a character that the author killed – although some authors get around this by bringing characters back. For example, Tolkien brought Gandalf back in book two of Lord of the Rings, although one could characterize Gandalf as “missing in action, presumed dead” after his disappearance in the first volume.

Challenge #3: The author has to remember many details

An interlocking series means a complicated journey, and the author needs to remember many details or face being scolded for self-contradiction. Changed spelling and changed attitudes are reasons for some fans’ dissatisfaction with Jean Auel’s latest book.

Other series approach this pitfall differently. Instead of making the stories interlocking, they have the same characters without a real continuation of the plot. Many detective series are like this (Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot and Jane Marple, or Carolyn Keene’s Nancy Drew). The series may be constructed even looser and either be a return to the same universe but without necessarily the same protagonists (Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders series) or even simply move on to descendants and successors (Colleen McCullough Masters of Rome and Noah Gordon’s Physician series).

Challenge #4: Each book should stand on its own

Face it, some books don’t stand alone. For example, J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Fellowship of the Ring, the first book in the trilogy The Lord of the Rings, really does not work by itself. Fortunately during the latest filming of it, the producers made all three parts together, so that the moviegoers were not faced with an incomplete product.

Other books, even when they leave some issues unresolved, manage to give the reader a sense of completion at the end of each volume. J.K. Rowling does this with the Harry Potter books by having Potter and his friends achieve a difficult task. Even though the danger still lurks, our heroes have triumphed for the time being and can breathe more easily. She also concludes each volume by sending Harry home to Privet Drive at the end of each installment. Harry is on summer vacation, which means a holiday for everyone, including Ms. Rowling.

Challenge #5: The same but different

One of the most challenging aspects to writing a series is keeping the interest of the readers from one book to the next. The author scored a hit with book one; what does he do in book two? If he uses the same formula as in book one, some readers will complain that it’s too similar to book one. If he strays from that formula, other readers will complain that the book is too different. As readers have different tastes in this regard, authors will likely not please everyone.

The author has a particular challenge when following the same protagonist from one volume to the next. If the main character has fallen in love and gotten married – something which happens at the end of many books – then the marriage, the consummation, can’t happen again in the next without undoing the ending of the previous story. If the hero has learned and mastered all challenges by the end of book three, what remains of interest for volume four?

J.K. Rowling has her own technique for the same but different conundrum. Each volume follows a single school year at Hogwarts, giving each book the same setting and much of the same structure. But in each successive book Harry Potter is a year older, with more mature concerns and greater challenges in the battle between good and evil.

Challenge #6: What to do with back history

If the author has a devoted following, another big question is the back story. When writing book four, should the author assume that the readers are intimately familiar with books one through three? How much rehashing should the author do? Will repetition of previous information bore faithful readers? Will lack of the information confuse the newcomers?

Again, this is a situation where the author probably won’t be able to please everyone. In the second Harry Potter book, J.K. Rowling faced the problem that not all of her readers would understand Quidditch, the game played on broomsticks. But Harry, as one of the players, did not need to learn the game himself. Rowling solved this problem by having Harry explain the rules of the game to a new student.

Challenge #7: More Issues to Resolve

This can be a plus and a minus. The writer who has more things to write about is less likely to suffer from writer’s block. And the readers can content themselves with more story. Still, the books can grow long.

One reason the Harry Potter books have been getting more and more voluminous is simply because there is more story to tell, more characters to catch up on from one book to the next. Even bit characters need a few words so that their development can continue.

What Price Success?

Many series are “successful” without dealing successfully with all these elements – that is to say, the series are financial successes. But some of the readers will be disappointed; they will complain that they have been betrayed by the author and the publisher and say the standards have been lowered to make more money.

Making more money is an understandable goal. Still, it should be possible, though not easy, to have a successful series which continues to please readers – more of the readers – by meeting the challenges above. Before you decide to go to distance, consider the difficulties, and how to overcome them.

****
AUTHOR NOTES

Victoria Grossack & Alice Underwood are the authors of


NS Gill of About.com Ancient History has the following to say about the trilogy: “This smooth flow is one of
the virtues of the series, which I think comes from having two writers intimately involved in the entire process....The most amazing part of the series is how the authors retell the myths in such a way as to work for modern audiences... The 'Children of Tantalus' series is definitely worth reading by fans of fiction and Greek mythology.”


For more information about Grossack & Underwood and their work, visit
Tapestry of Bronze.