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I very much enjoyed this book and found both the setting and the characters greatly compelling. Yet it’s so much more than just an exciting steampunk adventure done well.

Josiah Bancroft depicts characters helplessly struggling amidst mysterious, invisible forces, their fight and efforts drawing us into the cold, muddy waters of alienation, isolation, uncertainty and despair, the author repeatedly making us question moral values through their actions and contemplations. Due to the carefully detailed worldbuilding and visualisation despite the unrealistic setting the world feels very real, its bizarre location and occurrences often offering a clear reflection on our own world and society.

Apart from wanting to know the answers to my plot-related questions, what also kept me going and what makes me look forward to reading the upcoming books in the series, is seeing how the characters build relationships under these harsh circumstances, how these relationships change and how the characters themselves change as they fight their ways through the dangers, trying to get back into their old lives which might just never be found again.

 

I’m primarily writing this blog post for those people who either on Facebook or on Reddit indicated that they would like to hear a few spoiler-free thoughts on Mark Lawrence’s The Book of the Ancestor trilogy which starts with Red Sister. But I’m also writing this blog post for me. Being involved in the creation of these books was a wonderful experience and this poor blog of mine had been neglected for too long as I tend to spend most of my time and energy on That Thorn Guy. Which I love doing, so it’s really not a complaint, more just an observation.

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I started beta-reading for Mark Lawrence over two years ago, when one day he said to me: ‘I’ve written a short story (I foolishly agreed to write 3 for various things) – I’m not sure it works … maybe it does … dunno … wanna read it?’

I read the story, and loved it. I gave him a lot of feedback on what worked and what didn’t work for me, what I liked what I didn’t like so much, carefully criticizing bits here and there, while profusely praising others. I read it again the next day, added a few more thoughts and then helped him select a title for it. It became ‘Bad Seed’ and to date one of my favourite short stories from Mark.

Some weeks later he sent me the next story. I remember I read it at work in my lunch break. I worked for a wine merchant company back then and we were given champagne to taste which I was sipping at my desk as I was reading the story. It was oddly appropriate because once again I was so impressed with his writing that all I wanted was to celebrate him. I wiped a few tears away from my eyes, sipped some more champagne and thought to myself that if someone had made a decision for me, ruling that I was only allowed to read Mark Lawrence for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t even object. A sentiment which I even repeated in my short review of Bad Seed later. Little did I know then that it was to become more or less true. Following all the short stories, in less than two years I read six not yet published novels from him, most of them more than just once.

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I take critiquing his work very seriously. These are my favourite books we’re talking about here, after all, and so most precious to me. It matters a lot to me that they end up being as good as it is humanly possible and given that they are written by Mark, they need to be even better than that. He has such incredible talent and skill that nothing less than amazing will do. This determination of mine is also somewhat reflected in there being two Makin stories in Road Brothers. Mark wrote Mercy first, which I thought was a little too weak for such a popular character as Sir Makin (compared to some of Mark’s other short stories), and insisted he wrote a better one. When he started dragging his feet and said he had no ideas what the story could be about, I suggested he came up with how Sir Makin became captain of the Ancraths’ palace guard. He stalked off, came back and handed me A Rescue, which I thought was a little stronger. To date every single time a reader says they liked Mercy more Mark will surely bring it to my attention. Or he just simply points me at his poll which has more votes for Mercy.

I don’t know much about how other authors employ beta-readers, but I think many give them a finished draft which probably gets altered following the feedback. Mark Lawrence is not one of these authors. He prefers learning from the feedback and make use of it in the next book rather than re-write anything. This was one of the reasons why I felt particularly lucky to beta-read his upcoming trilogy as he was writing it, chapter by chapter. It gave me a much bigger chance to make an impact, with my notes generally looked at straight away and acted upon in the same or in the next chapter. The other reason was that I’m very meticulous. I take my time and look at every little detail carefully, commenting on most of them. I catch typos I notice. I make suggestions. I flag things that concern me or are not clear to me as a reader. I raise questions. I catch inconsistencies. I praise the things I love.

I’m not always right and by no means perfect. My suggestions and ideas are not always taken aboard, but they are always considered. And those few that make it onto the pages, beautifully brought to life under his fingertips, I’m very proud of. To watch them grow, to be woven into the core of the tale is all the payment I could ever ask for.

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I started reading Red Sister in February 2015, when it was still called ‘Narrow Summer’. Mark sent me the first 14,000 words and also sent me the plan he had to write for the publisher to summarise the plot/setting. I read the first 14,000 words and ignored the plan. While I understood that it is important for publishers to have some sort of security knowing that the author has a view about where the story is heading and how, I wasn’t going to spoil, what I already suspected to be one of the best fantasy books ever written, for myself.

I think I loved the beginning of Red Sister more than any other book openings Mark had written before. Generally, when I read books I really like I forget all about the world around me and enjoy being taken, lost in the story. But Mark’s books also fill me with so much emotion I sometimes don’t know what to do with it. Red Sister was no different.

It was different however in many other respects. For the first time Mark’s books feature a female protagonist. She’s called Nona and she’s learning to become a fighting nun. It’s set in a new world (called Abeth) and unlike the first two trilogies it’s written in third-person narrative. A considerable amount of the books is set in the convent, Sweet Mercy, where Nona’s and other novices’ training takes place. The storylines do open out in each book however with the characters playing significant roles in the battle for power, control and survival which envelops their planet.

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Just as The Red Queen’s War was different from The Broken Empire, The Book of the Ancestor once again takes a turn toward a completely new direction. I’m not sure how to put this, but there’s just a different feel to the series. So much so that initially I almost felt an urge to check the cover and reassure myself that it was indeed from Mark. But there’s no need for concern. Red Sister is simply stunning. The characters are beautifully drawn, its world is both rich and fascinating, the writing even more vibrant than before.  The thought that repeatedly occurred to me as I read it was how this man can write absolutely anything he wanted to. Both his UK and US editors said it was the best book he had written so far.

His UK publisher, HarperVoyager wrote in their public announcement last year: “There are rich evocations of The Wizard of Earthsea and The Name of the Wind, alongside Mark’s trademark grit and violence”. To me personally it felt a lot like Hayao Miyazaki meets Harry Potter meets Mark Lawrence with a dash of X-men thrown into the mix.

From the very beginning I kept asking him if he had seen any of Myazaki’s works before, because there was something in his writing that reminded me of them. He hadn’t. Many of Hayao Myazaki’s movies have strong female leads, and just as Mark’s books they combine rich imagination with a profound deepness and beauty to the stories. There’s also something about the way they both portray human relationships. Deep inside they remind you of the value of true friendships at a time when modern technology tries to shape our feelings, our relationships into something more artificial.

One more thing I was especially fascinated with in the first book was the worldbuilding. It’s best to dive into the story without knowing anything about it and let it unfold as you read through the pages. You’ll thank me later.

I reviewed Red Sister on Goodreads with a single sentence: ‘If you thought that Mark Lawrence had stolen your heart before hold on tight now!’. I know there are readers who could never like Jorg, and even some who never really warmed to Jal, either, but I predict Nona will be generally adored.  I also think that the book carries the potential to become the title Mark will be most widely known for, the series likely reaching a much broader audience than his previous books. He finished writing the third book on 7th August 2016 and I finished reading it and giving feedback on it about an hour later. All I can say is that I’m still mourning that the story has been finished and there’s no more of it!

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And to answer questions raised by other readers on Facebook and Reddit:

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Is the story epic, in a grander scale? Meaning, is it a story that will affect mostly the protagonist, or the whole world?

I think I have managed to answer this one above already. The story runs on two levels: the personal journey and development of characters and their relationships, but which will have roles to play in a much grander scale, too.

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Is there any equally important protagonist alongside Nona, like Snorri with Jalan?

There’s a strong focus on a larger group of secondary characters, including Nona’s close friends and teachers. (I personally have a number of favourite characters from both groups I came to deeply care about. Much more than about any secondary characters in the previous books.)

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 Are there any invisible, transgender squirrels, identifying themselves as war machines?

No, but there’s a cat in the books! Also war machines.

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…maybe he can do a trilogy omnibus so I can get it all at once

Between the three books, Red Sister, Book 2 (working title: Grey Sister) and Book 3 (working title: Holy Sister), there are story gaps of two or three years, and while there’s a grand story arc that ties the three books together, each volume can be enjoyed as its own tale. Hopefully there will be an omnibus one day, but I certainly encourage everyone to start reading next April instead of waiting till 2019.

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Tell us about the main character! What kind of gal is she?

This is probably the hardest question to answer without giving too much away. The first word that comes to mind is fierce. But there’s also a lot of love in her, which was more absent from the previous protagonists. She values her friends greatly (also unlike Jorg and Jalan), and also strives to do well at schoolwork despite her impediments.

 

 


 

Photo credits:

Art by Tomasz Jedruszek (portraying Ciri from The Witcher)

The Lightest Dark by INeedChemicalX

 

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Writing, when done well, is like playing a song on a remarkably complex instrument that would capture any reader’s heart. Sebastien de Castell is playing this instrument in Knight’s Shadow as if it was second nature to him.

He has a way of storytelling, that doesn’t just have an emotional complexity to it, but a well-composed storyline, too, with many small threads appearing, disappearing and re-emerging later to flow into the main plot just at the right time, gaining additional meaning or emotional quality in the process.

His books provide me with a carefree enjoyment that for some reason I don’t easily experience with other books. With that remarkable feeling of being able to switch off from this world completely, to just relax and take off on an adventure, through gripping shadows and unpredictable (de) lights, knowing you’re in good hands. The next ride, Saint’s Blood, couldn’t come soon enough!

 

24428239Time still heals all wounds, for now. But the world grows thin around this tome as the letters light up on the pages, their magic burning bright, casting long shadows toward the black void of Osheim.

As the sun is setting on the Broken Empire, shading dreams into reality, there is still a little time left for laughs, there’s still a margin for a handful of clever tricks and foolish hopes, there’s still a crack to let the last rays of joy in before it slowly closes around each step leading down to hell.

The Liar’s Key swallows you in a big wave, locks you into its tale, snatching the world away. It follows the journey of Prince Jalan Kendeth and Snorri ver Snagason from the village of Trond, pursued by foes, lured by enemies, with a score of deceits dancing to the beat of the key all about them, yet still finding aid in unexpected places and allies in unforeseen situations as they advance across the grand chessboard of their times and beyond.

While in Prince of Fools we learned of Snorri’s family from tales which and when he decided to share with us, Jalan’s memories weave around The Liar’s Key like the hook-briar, manifesting in ways that are both unpredictable, unsafe, and wild – like magic itself. Through this twofold journey, one leading him on a perilous path south across the Empire, the other pulling him deeper into the history of the Kendeths, he learns more about his family than in all his life spent at home and we in turn learn more about him, piercing through the layers of self-deception he carefully built around his past hurts. Through this we might finally understand that despite appearances he’s not so different from Jorg Ancrath in some respect. They are both conflicted characters, growing through or around wounds painful enough to corrupt the mind, trying to keep ahead as claws of their past are catching at their ankles, dreading their own imaginations, their true nature pouring out of them only at times when fear or bitterness cannot longer stay their hearts.

Mark Lawrence has a wonderful imagination which he serves on ravishing prose, expertly spiced with devilish laugh-out-loud humour. He continues to hone his skills as a writer, hooking us clean off with the prologue, weaving the storylines around us tight enough to steal reality, leaving us begging for more.

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*11949267_10153604755012156_5495978527405203371_nI might not be mistaken when I claim to be the only one who The Liar’s Key was handed to as a ‘required reading’ last year, when I was asked if I would read and critique the first draft of The Wheel of Osheim.

Without any spoilers offered I would only say: when a book lights a fire in you, you burn its mark into the world. And as it happened, on a cold December day, I sat down at the computer and started building a whole site dedicated solely to Mark Lawrence and his works.

For a name I decided on the one George R. R. Martin gave him when last summer he referred to Mark in our conversation, hence That Thorn Guy was born. But as they have it in certain far-away villages under those mysterious northern lights, this is a story to be told around the fire for another night.

traitorsbladeLately I find I’ve been reading fewer and fewer books by fewer and fewer authors. I’m getting more and more fussy with the quality of the writing and more and more impatient with stories that prove to be too slow in capturing my interest. In all honestly I fear I’m turning into a bit of a dragon, the grumpy kind, tricky to satisfy and easily annoyed. Which is not fun! Not even for me!

For this reason I must say how pleased I was to come across a book I didn’t just judge to be good, but one that finally also made me relax into just enjoying the hell out of a great adventure, a captivating tale well told.

While there was a good pace to the story, I found the fast but smooth changes in tone and mood to be also just as captivating, light-hearted banter giving way to a darker shade of humour, pain and misery bleeding into exciting discoveries, galloping into unforeseen plot-twists, and every now and then a touch of love and hope, quickly gone again like the sun on a windy, fast-changing April day sky.

This book carries with it an unmistakable promise. A promise which whispers to the reader that there’s a lot more to come. I look forward to this more.

tangled-rapunzel-tower‘The key to unlocking the heart of a princess and opening her lips to a true love’s kiss lies in slaying her evil foe in a moment of her greatest despair’, advised old Gregor, the court magician.

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Prince Robert thought of his words as he started to relax his clean-shaven, carefully balmed face into an easy smile and took off his helm. The promise of the most powerful magic money could buy was duly delivered as the glimmering light ball soared into the air, meeting the approaching dragon high above, forcing it into a heavy sleep as the distance was rapidly eaten away by its hungry flight. It couldn’t have been as hungry as those peasants were who paid the price, though. Those idiots met their death a lot quicker.

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The prince glanced back at the tower trying to glimpse his lady, screaming for help in the window just a minute ago, lifted his sword and advanced on the unconsciously lying magnificent beast. Every step took him closer to the dream he’d been cradling for this past year or so and he fancied he could already taste the victory in his mouth. Thus when the arrowhead punched through his throat, mixing the flavour with the salty tang of mortality, his eyes widened in disbelief.

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He slowly fell to his knees, as the princess ran past him.

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‘Gregor, you liar!’ he thought bitterly, watching the fair maiden throwing the crossbow aside and lovingly cradling the monster’s neck, covering the rough scales in gentle kisses. He hated all of them in that moment, as his life and dreams slipped away in ragged breaths from him, but most of all he despised the conspiring magician and his false words. The words whose truth remained constant even as their meaning changed in his eyes.
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Originally written for the Liar’s Key writing competition in April, 2015

half-the-world-uk-hbI recently read Half the World by Joe Abercrombie, which is the second book of his Young Adult series, Shattered Sea – out now!  I felt this book deserved a few words from me for a number of reasons. For one, it doesn’t happen to me every day that I’m unexpectedly presented with an advanced copy at a book signing, and by none other than the editor. We have to be realistic about these things. I still remember queueing up with it to the author and taking him by surprise. Once he signed it, however, there was something else he said to me. He said he was pleased with this one. That he thought it was good. But, you know, it wasn’t even what he said that caught me off-guard, it was the way he said it. It wasn’t his loud, charismatic, self-confident Lord Grimdark-self. This was a quiet, honest and almost shy assessment of someone, who is continuously giving himself a mighty hard time while striving for perfection and who finally managed to win a little victory over his cruellest critic, himself. And I knew this book was going to be seriously good. And it makes me wonder if this is what it means to be a writer. That there and then I just take one look at him and somehow I understand. And somehow I just know.

Alas the book did not disappoint. Among many things I was of course impressed by how well the main characters and their relationships were captured, the twists and turns of the dark plot he span, but what’s more, I was impressed by what the book delivered. Because how do you set out writing something that your own children might read one day? How do you tell them, how can yojoeabercrombie-c1-1600x2400u make them listen and understand that the world is not like they might think it is, that it’s not like they have it in the tales? Why, of course: with a tale of your own. A tale that makes you re-consider what’s right and what’s wrong, reminds you that every act comes with its own consequences and teaches you about acceptance and the power of not just the steel, the physical strength, but also of the words.

So last Sunday I once again turned up at his signing to tell him that the book was indeed good. Just like every single time I’m about to meet him I nervously tried to think of a few words to say about myself, convinced he’ll have no idea who I was. What to say though, I puzzle, which part of me was worth mentioning that could possibly tell him who I might be. But to my surprise somehow he always already seems to know. And it makes me wonder if this is what it means to be a writer. That he just takes one look at me and somehow he understands. And somehow he just knows.

Photo by Lou Abercrombie

46079_10151699153077156_1767105433_nNameless nothings dance around to the rhythm of the night, closer and closer still to the moment they unite and the spark of an idea is born. An idea, newborn, exciting, bursting with promise and life, keeping you up all night.

And thus the journey begins, planning and building, not sleeping but dreaming, just one more pillar, just one more brick, turning every corner around until all the pieces click.

But every time your brain finally finds some peace and quiet, you notice those pages from the corner of your eye, longing to be read. So you reach for the manuscript and let it fill you with an idea born to someone else, full of darkness and light, keeping you up all night.

And thus your making begins, growing you and building, enchanting and healing, just one more pillar, just one more brick, turning every corner around until all the pieces click.

nightsky3You would think us fools, rushing into our graves like this. And yet, and yet… once you see our smiling faces in death, you’ll never feel afraid to follow.

Because here is the thing: Our kind never dies. We live on in the promise of every dawn, the sigh of every sunset. We watch you like hawks when you think you’re alone and will test you to your limits when you think you’re already done. We are the prince of your dreams, the muse of your lust. We kiss your first scar and steal your last kiss. You may have no name for us and yet you know there is more to your world than this hesitant hiding you call a life.

You know. Because all this time you have been searching for me. And now you have found that I’m with you already. Here. Inside. And now you understand. This is how we never die.

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Originally written for the Prince of Fools writing competition in March, 2014