E.C. Ambrose's Blog, page 24
July 29, 2012
Review: Thieftaker
Thieftaker by D.B. Jackson
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
A tense, engaging read.
There’s been recent interest in historical fantasies with American settings, and this was a nice addition to that elite group.
Jackson creates an off-beat character with an intriguing, mysterious past–I felt a bit as if I were supposed to know about that past, either because it was based on a real event (possible–this book is set just prior to the Revolution, and thus a few centuries after my purview) or because it was the second book in a series, which is not the case. Ethan Kaille is a middle-aged man with a limp and a lost love, both of which impact his moods and motivations. I’m interested in reading more about this character (there’s also a prequel short story available from Tor.com)
The structure of the magic felt familiar–it’s historical, with spoken word magic, so it can be hard to escape the use of Latin–but most of the spells cast are fun and different, very well applied. I’m a little concerned going forward that there aren’t enough limitations on the magic–but this is an author concern, and likely not one that will bother most readers.
My other complaint is with the on-going antagonist, Sephira Pryce. Sephira is a sexy female thieftaker who both runs many of the illegal operations in this version of historical Boston, and catches thieves–primarily her rivals. To some extent this keeps the peace, and she’s powerful in the way of Mob bosses everywhere. But I found her to be less three-dimensional than I’d like for a series character, especially one with this much influence both in the milieu, and in the life of the protagonist.
All in all, well worth reading. This book does a beautiful job of conjuring the atmosphere of Boston and the tension of pre-Revolutionary America. It’s a rich, taut read with many interesting twists, and I’ll be looking forward to the next!
July 13, 2012
Writing Down the Darkness: The Evil Within
So the guy next to me on the plane is watching a horror film, one of these creepy, psychological things where guys keep dying in nasty ways—not slasher ways, but more personal, with visions of their loved ones in their minds. I don’t like it. This guy’s film is making it hard for me to write. . . about people dying in nasty ways.
Does this make me a hypocrite, that I am disturbed by the vivid, awful genius of others—but I seek to inflict my own darkness upon strangers? Because these books, this series, are not a pleasant ride, as Bilbo Baggins once put it, “not all ponyrides in May sunshine.” And yet. . . I so enjoy writing them.
I enjoy getting my character into terrible messes, not being sure how to get him out. I enjoy sending him on quests that sometimes end badly. I do not revel in these things upon the page. I try to keep my descriptions of death and injury to an appropriate level, making it clear what has happened and how it impacts the characters, without spattering gore all over the reader.
Still, it gives me pause, to think of the hardship I inflict, first upon my characters in the name of art, then, through them, to the readers who will follow. There is a market for mayhem, no doubt. My hope is to create a journey that is harrowing, yes, but ultimately rewarding. One where the reader genuinely worries about what will happen, to whom, how bad it will be. But also one where the reader is moved, is sometimes thrilled, and sometimes jubilant. Perhaps I tend too much to the dark side of the boundary.
Where the heart is darkest, there the soul confronts itself—and, hopefully, finds the brightest flashes of light.
July 2, 2012
T minus 365 Days and Counting!
Today, Elisha Barber is negative one year old. Woo-hoo! And yikes! I have a lot of work to do. One year from now, I’ll be enthusiastically trumpeting my book release from every place I can think of. Hopefully, before that, people will have been hearing about and reading about my book on review sites, blogs and even in print (assuming there are still newspapers and magazines a year from now 
)
Which means that it’s time for me to get rolling on the publicity. Now? Yes, now. I’ll hope to have some short stories published, maybe even a couple that tie in to the book. I’ve started to get some articles out there about the kinds of things that interest me, and that may attract readers to the book. I’ve already had a casual chat with my local indie store about a release party.
Before even all of that, I’ll be writing some other authors to ask for blurbs that will help the book attract attention from the right readers. I need to get a few of next year’s conventions on my calendar and see how to get in touch with the organizers to let them know I’ll attend and ask if I can be on panels. I’ll be thinking about what kind of giveaways or promotional items I need (got bookmarks? Yep!) and how and when to have them made. I’ll be cultivating contacts in areas where I might find different audiences: medical students, medievalists, gamers, black powder weapon buffs.
Blog tours, teaser chapters, Goodreads giveaways–That’s a pretty long list already. . . I’d better get started!
June 28, 2012
The Pedigree of a Cliche: By Tolkien, out of Chaucer
One of the ways I extend my writing and thinking time is by listening to audio books as I commute. Sometimes, I’m able to pick up Great Courses or similar lectures about the history or social structure of the places and times I’m writing about which is awesome–I’m always making connections between this audio research and my work. More recently, I was in a hurry at the library and I snagged The Canterbury Tales, in a version with updated pronunciation, but (theoretically) all the same words.
It hit me during the introduction that Geoffrey Chaucer is responsible for one of the great clichés of fantasy literature: the group of strangers who meet at an inn before they go a-questing. We’ve been trying to blame this one on D&D for ages. It’s a convenient way for a group of adventurers to meet for the first time. But before there was Dungeons and Dragons, there was J. R. R. Tolkien, with his Green Dragon Inn, and Butterbur’s inn at Bree, where the hobbits are to meet up with Gandalf, but find Strider instead.
Tolkien claims that he was simply writing the scene when he discovered this mysterious stranger sitting in the corner, and even the author didn’t know who he was and what he was doing there. Given the amount of background that Tolkien had already developed for his world, I’m not sure I believe this particular fairy tale.
But about 600 years before there was Butterbur’s, Chaucer had the Tabard, an inn in Southwark where his travellers met, for to go on pilgrimage. They represent a motley bunch, just as any group of adventurers will include its clerics, its fighters and its thieves, Chaucer had priests and nuns, knights and clerks, the pardoner, the miller, and all the rest. No magic-users or half-elves, of course, but it’s a proto-party if I ever saw one.
We blame Shakespeare for so many of the clichés we encounter, but even some of his were drawn from Chaucer or other sources. This cliché of a group of strangers meeting up for adventure is a hot button with a lot of editors, many of whom will flat-out reject such a tale on principle. I wonder what they would do if the tale included a Goodwife of Bath and a dozen ribald tales of cuckoldry.
