You Know How It Ends…Now See How It Began

“I once heard a rumor about thieves who stole treasure from the Crown Tower of Ervanon and replaced it the very next night,” Emily explained. “Why would anyone do such a thing?” Alenda asked. The viscount chuckled softly. “I’m sure that’s merely a legend. No sensible thief would behave in such a way.”

I wrote that back in the fall of 2004, almost exactly eight years ago near the start of the novel The Crown Conspiracy. I was living in Raleigh, North Carolina back then, and I never had any thought of publishing stories about the two thieves I’d just started writing about. At that time this passage was just color, a way of adding depth and setting up the following explanation of how thieves worked in the world of Elan. Still, even when I wrote it, I knew Albert Winslow was lying. He was well aware that Royce and Hadrian had done that job. I just never devoted any time to discovering exactly what had happened.

Until now.

Since June 6th I’ve had a survey running on my blog asking readers their opinion on what they would like to read about if I did more books from the universe of Elan. I made no promises. I didn’t want to keep writing if only a few people cared. My plan was one of wait and see how the world received the Riyria books. Well, the series has only been out for eight months, so it’s still a little early, but I think the boys have made a pretty good impression—good enough to take a serious look at bringing them back for more adventures.

Overwhelming requests indicated you wanted the origin story—the birth of Riyria. You wanted to see how Royce and Hadrian first met and the first job they did together. Well, today I am officially announcing—you’re getting your wish.

The Crown Tower—the next full-length Royce and Hadrian novel—and the first of The Riyria Chronicles, is scheduled for release by Orbit in August 2013 in trade paperback, electronic book, and audio formats. 

You’re probably wondering what The Riyria Chronicles are. Right now it’s not much more than an idea I have. The Riyria Chronicles, as I envision them, are stories that fill in the history of the twelve years of Royce and Hadrian’s life as Riyria. They will be generally standalone novels that I imagine will center on significant events in their career together, told mostly in order, and I was thinking one book for everyone of one their twelve years. That’s not to say I will write twelve books.  This isn’t that kind of series. It’s not an ongoing tale or interconnected in the sense that Revelations was, or Song of Ice and Fire is. It really can’t be since if you’ve read The Riyria Revelations, you already know how everything turns out. So this won’t be a single story told in parts, but rather much more episodic like The Adventure of Sherlock Holmes or maybe the Dresden Files—only with medieval thieves instead of nineteenth century detectives or modern day wizards.

Chronicles will likely hit on topics hinted at in The Riyria Revelations that readers have asked about like the original Drumindor job, the disaster that was Blythe Castle, the Crown Tower heist as well as others never previously touched on. While I have several additional projects under production, The Riyria Chronicles allows me a framework to put out a new Royce and Hadrian story every so often, just for the fun of it without hampering me from stretching my authorial limits by discovering new characters and worlds to explore. 

You may be wondering why I didn’t just do a sequel.

If you read Revelations, you know how the story ends. Some have actually called it perfect, and I worked hard ensuring those dominos fell exactly right. I like the place that everyone was left in, and am perfectly content to have them get a rest after all the trials and tribulations I’ve put them through. That’s not to say I won’t consider something in the same world, generations in the future, but Royce and Hadrian wouldn’t star in such a story. Chronicles is a way I can provide more of what most of my readers have told me they want—more time with two guys who should never have been friends, risking their lives for each other.

So what’s The Crown Tower about? Here’s the teaser:

* * Two men who hate each other. One impossible mission. A legend in the making. A warrior with nothing to fight for is paired with a thieving assassin with nothing to lose. Together they must steal a treasure that no one can reach. The Crown Tower is the impregnable remains of the grandest fortress ever built and home to the realm’s most valuable possessions. But it isn’t gold or jewels the old wizard is after, and this prize can only be obtained by the combined talents of two remarkable men. Now if Arcadias can just keep Hadrian and Royce from killing each other, they just might succeed.

For me the challenge, and fun of this book, was in recognizing that when they first met, Royce and Hadrian wouldn’t have liked each other much. So could I construct a tale that would realistically portray those first tenuous steps toward such a legendary friendship? I think I have, and I’m very excited to share it with you.

So at last, I can finally make official a project I’ve been keeping under wraps for some time. Technically the deal I made with Orbit is for two Royce and Hadrian novels…and I’ll be back in the not too distant future to tell you more about the second book in The Riyria Chronicles, but that’s a topic for another day. Today is all about The Crown Tower, and the fact that the boys are coming back. I hope you’ll give them a warm welcome when they arrive next August.

Scoring Points

 

Fall is a busy time—back to school and all that. For me autumn has always been the season when my books came out and I started new projects. This year I’m way behind.

I’m in the middle of one novel that I never intended to write that is going great but keeping me from starting a trilogy that I told myself I would begin last week. At present, however, I can’t do either because I’m working on edits for two other novels I wrote last year and writing a short story already overdue for an anthology.

My wife has suggested that I just write 24/7, but I actually do need sleep.

This blog falls into the something’s-gotta-give category. Still I have to relate something that recently occurred…

When it comes to reading, my son is worse than my daughter ever was. He hates reading, always has. At sixteen, he’d only read what he was forced to at school. At seventeen I managed to get him into the Rick Riordan’s The Lightning Thief, and he read the whole series. Score one for me and Rick.

I never even tried to get him to read my books.

For his birthday recently, we got him a Nexus 7 in the hopes of using gadgetry to spur reading. I told him he could buy any books he wanted using my account and I’d pay for them.  This was all wishful thinking on my part. I knew he’d use the new device to play games, or for email.

But then something surprising happened.

A few years ago I drove my son and friends to a movie and learned one of the boys—one of my sons friends—had read my books and loved them. He was giddy to meet me, he was also clearly ostracized by the others for his geekish behavior. As my son has gotten older his circle of friends has begun to include girls. Young women have started visiting the house along with his old boy’s network. And then it happened. While on our summer vacation I noticed my son was spending a lot of time on his new Nexus 7. I asked what he was doing with it, and he replied… “Reading.”

I was shocked.

“What are you reading.”

“Theft of Swords.”

I was confused to the point of almost mentioning what a coincidence that was given I wrote a book by the same title. Then I realized—he was reading my book. Like a perfectly built card-house I backed away slowly so as not to disturb anything.

Not long after he came to my wife to ask if he could get the second book on the Nexus 7. I found this funny as all get out, since our house is packed with copies of my books in every form and language imaginable. You can’t walk into any room and not find ten or twenty on shelves, in boxes, or on tables. But he wanted it on his new device, so sure, why not—anything to get him to read. And he was reading my books!

So I had to admit I was proud that my writing had managed to penetrate that resistance to reading that my son had so carefully constructed. After so long, the series that I created to help interest my daughter in a love of words, but came too late to help her, had done the trick with my even more stubborn son. It only took six years, over 200,000 sales, releases in 14 different languages, and a Nexus 7 to get him to read them, but I wasn’t going to complain. I had achieved the impossible. I had gotten my son to like books.

Then I discovered the real reason.

Okay maybe it isn’t the real reason, maybe I’m wrong, this is only speculation after all. Still I found it suspicious when I recently discovered the two new inductees into the old boy friend’s network, the young ladies, were also fans of my books. When, as a teenager, a friend likes your dad’s novels, he’s a geek. When a girl likes them…that’s a whole different argument.

I’m still marking this as a point for Royce and Hadrian.

Vacationing Under Yellow Umbrellas

On Beech Mountain over looking a mist shrouded Echo Lake

Apparently vacations, in the modern sense, come from the idea of students “vacating” schools during the summer months, although the rich have taken holidays since the middle ages. Around the start of the 19th century, a good deal of America’s population was driven by the Puritan work ethic. Simple concept: work good—play bad. So idling away summer days at a lake or island resort wasn’t popular. Vacations were also impossible for most of the working class who at that time were mostly farmers. The work of farming, as it turns out, is done mostly in summer, and not many had a mind to take vacations in winter. So it was the rich—who coincidently were idle most of the time anyway—that went on vacations, but not for fun. Apparently “fun” was also considered bad. I imagine smiling was evil too—remember we’re talking about the “good” old days here.

Instead people of means went on vacations for their health. This was a time of wide spread tuberculosis and a belief in the curing properties of air and natural spring waters, made Saratoga Springs one of the first vacation resorts. A lot of early vacation destinations had the word “spring” in the name for this reason.

The poor, got into the act, but rather than vacationing for health, it was religion that drove them. Going on a religious retreat was safe as the temptations of idleness like drinking, smoking, dancing, swimming, and most importantly, sexual temptations, were restricted. By the later part of the 19th century the railroad had the idea of building hotels at the end of their lines and promoting vacations. The super rich of the Gilded Age had their own train cars that would take them to great camps like those in the Adirondacks and Acadia.

The Vanderbilts, Durants, Astors, Rockafellers, and Carnegies went on holiday, but these people didn’t take a weekend off for a whirlwind tour of Disney World, Epcot, and Universal Studios. They left the city and lived on the lakes in the woods for the entire summer. They brought libraries of books and read extensively. They brought paints and easels creating art like we take photos. They went on week-long canoe trips—not as their vacation, but as one small aspect to their vacation. They wrote poetry, learned how to play instruments, created butterfly collections.

As mentioned one of those locations haunted by the ultra-rich was Acadia, Maine—Bar Harbor to be exact. They built palatial cottages along the Atlantic’s picturesque rocky coast. Then in 1947 a fire wiped it all out. 200,000 acres, 851 permanent home and 397 seasonal cottages were destroyed in what was called “the year Maine burned.” The rich didn’t rebuild…well not the Gilded Age rich at least. 

Bar Harbor Inn

 

Still when my wife and I first stumbled on Acadia National Park nearly thirty years ago it appeared to be mighty well off to us. At the time Robin and I were in our early twenties and on a whirlwind tour of New England in a Capri hatchback. Too poor to stay in hotels, we camped in our tiny dome tent at KOAs along the road and ate campfire cooked sausages wrapped in bread and butter for breakfast. We wandered the shops and streets of Bar Harbor marveling at the beautiful inns and high priced shops and fantasized about one day staying at the legendary Bar Harbor Inn right there at the park on the waterfront. We’d imagined sipping mint juleps under the yellow umbrellas and watching the Margaret Todd—the only four-masted schooner in Frenchmen’s Bay—set out on her sunset sail from the end of the dock. It was a nice dream that I knew would never happen. That’s what dreams were back then, impossible desires. But I didn’t care because my best wish had already come true. I’d married Robin the year before.

We had a great time on that trip climbing the mountains of Acadia, even the infamous Precipice Trail that sorely tested Robin’s fear of heights as it’s a 1000 foot non-technical cliff climb with narrow ledges and iron rung ladders up the face of Mount Champlain. Not long after Robin and I moved to Vermont. We visited Acadia several times, but never scaled the Precipice again and never managed to stay in Bar Harbor. 

Climbing Precipice Trail 27 years ago

For the last seven years we haven’t taken vacations. Just too busy, I suppose. The Puritans would be proud. Then last year, as you may recall, I went out to Death Valley on a research trip for a novel, which turned into an unexpected week long Californian adventure with my wife and son due to earthquakes, hurricanes and forest fires. It turned out to be a lot of fun, so this year we thought we’d try again. My son never saw Acadia, so we decided to introduce him to the adventure grounds of our youth. Hobbits adventuring once more into the Misty Mountains, only this time we could afford more than a campsite.

So last week, Robin, my son, and I flew to Bangor, drove down to Acadia, and achieved that thirty-year-old dream of staying at the Bar Harbor Inn. We sat on the veranda under the bright yellow umbrellas and sipped rum punch like characters in The Great Gatsby.  We took the sunset cruise on the Margaret Todd, where my son helped hoist the main sail, and we returned to the Precipice. 

My son James climbing precipice 2012

  I wasn’t certain if I could climb that mountain trail again, but my eighteen year old son was determined, and I wouldn’t let him go alone. Robin was also determined to retrace her steps. I honestly didn’t think either of us would make it, and before we even reached the cliff face Robin waved us on. I figured she planned to just wait, but she only wanted to go slower and didn't want to make us wait. My son and I reached the top and heading back down found Robin more than three-quarters up. Terrified of the height, but even more stubborn, she pressed on not looking down until she stood at the top. We went biking through the park in the rain, had pop-overs at Jordan House, took a carriage ride and had other adventures, but seeing Robin reach the top of the precipice once more and those drinks under the yellow umbrellas were the highlight for me.  

And while some people find a unique shell or pretty stone that they pick up off a beach or trail as a souvenir, I found an idea for part of a story. Just the sort of thing I’d been looking for. That’s the problem with authors and vacations—leaving the smart phone and laptop at home won’t stop us from working. I suppose it might have made the Puritans happy to know that, but then again, happiness was also probably frowned upon.

Bull Spec and Flyleaf

This past weekend I was back in my old stomping grounds, North Carolina. Robin and I had lived there for twelve years and it was interesting to be back again, trying to remember things that were only vague recollections.  We started out on Saturday night by meeting with local writers at a dinner hosted by Mark Van Name (a Baen science fiction author).  He has a great house for hosting a party and it was filled with members of SWFA and various local writer critique groups. 

The next day we were in Chapel Hill, North Carolina at Flyleaf Bookstore with fellow Orbit author, T.C. MaCarthy (who was also at Mark’s house the night before) for a dual reading/discussion. This all came about due to the efforts of Sam Montgomery-Blinn, creator of Bull Spec Magazine in conjunction with Flyleaf Books. Together they have been scheduling events with such writers as Brandon Sanderson, Steven Erickson, Michael Chabon, and Brent Weeks.

I met T.C. at Balticon a few months earlier, so it was great seeing him again, and wonderful to met Sam who did such a fantastic job of organizing, presenting, and keeping everyone off their diets.

I did something I rarely do—I read from my books. I don’t think I read well aloud, and have avoided it for the most part. That said, if you’d like to hear me read from the start of Avempartha and witness some of the presentation, the folks at Stuck in Traffic, videotaped the thing and posted it to their site.

The reason I’m making this post however is to thank a young woman who lives in Baltimore who—along with her entire family—came all the way down to Chapel Hill just to see me. (That’s like a five hour drive depending on traffic.) She is a young writer who recently published her first work. This is the sort of thing that makes public appearances worth doing. Thanks so much for coming, Lindsey.

Because its Fans that Keep Me Writing

In case you haven’t heard…it’s hot.

My office is upstairs where all the heat goes, so traditionally I take the summer months off from writing. I still work—if you can call anything I do these days work besides cleaning the house or getting the car inspected. But I don’t write, I scribble ideas, outlines, and research in my notebooks at coffee shops, libraries, bookstores, and while bicycling. This year however my wife bought me a fan. Not just any fan, a Dyson bladeless thingy with a hoop like a cross-section slice of a small rocket engine set on a white cylinder that looks like it ought to be able to grind coffee. As crazy as it is, it works and has managed to keep me at the keyboard.

Due to requests from various online forums I’ve kicked out a few short stories—not my forte, but I have a hard time saying no. I’ve also been working on novels. I’ve finished three since finishing work on Percepliquis, and am presently deep into my fourth. If you’re a fan, (especially if you’re the bladed sort) don’t go crazy. Just because I write a book doesn’t mean I’ll publish it. I don’t want to sell crap anymore than you want to buy it, and at least one of those books isn’t ready, and might never be. However, two of the books are definite keepers.

I should warn you that I don’t intend to remain a strictly invented-world fantasy author anymore than I intend to eat only chicken for the remainder of my life. I think the quickest way to ruin a career, is to lose interest in it. Doing the same thing repeatedly can have that effect. So while I love all of you who have appreciated my novels and asked for more, I’ve promised myself never to write for money, (as long as I can help it) which means I won’t seek to please anyone but myself.  I think any other path leads to the dark side.

I need to stay challenged to keep things fresh and fun, so don’t be surprised if the next work you see is science fiction, a thriller, or mystery, or if the style of writing is a little different. I might use more profanity if I feel the story calls for it, and they might not always have happy endings—but hopefully always satisfying ones. That’s not to say I am giving up on IWF (invented-world fantasy) or even Riyria. Some of the novels I’ve already finished are IWF and I have plans for more, but I will be taking a break now and again to play in other sandboxes. Hopefully some of you will join me, and the rest will not be too irritated while they wait.

Having said all that, this last weekend, Orbit and I reached an agreement so they will be publishing me again, which is why I’m not telling you any details, not even the titles of the books I’ve completed, as I am certain Orbit will want to make the announcement.

So for those of you wondering if I’ve been drifting on an inflatable raft in a topical lagoon trying not to spill my umbrella drink for the last year—fear not, for I have a bladeless fan…hopefully I still have a few  breathing ones too.

More Marc

 

Click to Enlarge

I know I keep posting the cover art that Marc Simonetti has done for the French editions of the Riyria series, but he has a new one and I just think they look great when laid out together. So here is the art for The Crown Conspiracy, Avempartha and now Nyphron Rising.

I find it flattering that Mr. Simonetti has mimicked a little of my original covers in his designs. I get to see what my ideas could have looked like if I had that kind of talent.

To see more of Marc Simonetti's cover art visit his web page or go to his Deviant Art page.

So You Want to Write a Novel

If you’re a writer, or want to be, have access to the Internet and haven’t seen the video So You Want To Write a Novel yet, I have to wonder what rock is presently your home address. It debuted near the end of 2010 and I’m not exactly certain where I first saw it but it seemed everywhere for a while. The video was so ubiquitous I never wrote a post on it before now because doing so would be redundant. Why am I mentioning it now? 

This weekend my wife Robin was invited to speak at the James Rivers Writer’s group in Richmond. She was on a panel discussing self, independent, and big six publishing. Before the show, we went to lunch with the panel’s moderator, a man by the name of David Kazzie. We chatted for a while until at some point the topic of the afore mentioned video came up. 

Robin and I raved about its brilliance and humor. Like the original Star Wars, we’ve both seen it a dozen times and it is still a joy to watch. Not only is it hilarious, but true. I’ve met people like this, something David Kazzie was surprised to discover, because you see, David Kazzie is the genius who created the best talking teddy bear video ever! We were in the presence of greatness. 

We wanted to figure a way to get JRW to show the thing on a giant screen for the audience because it really should be required viewing for anyone thinking about writing a novel. It was too late to find an IMAX screen, which left this blog as my only recourse. So if you haven’t seen it, follow this link to David’s website. If you’ve already had the pleasure…can you believe I met this guy! I only wish there was a way to get his video autographed.