Uncategorized

Another update on The Origin Stone (and other books)

Hi everyone, I received an exciting email today from my publisher Next Chapter, which was a publishing contract for The Origin Stone! I’m really happy they’ve taken it on, and I’m also impressed with how quickly they got back to me about it, as it’s only been a few weeks between the publisher who had it before, Nuff Said, closing down, and submitting it to Next Chapter.

Now, I don’t have any idea when it’ll be out again, as the email simply contained the offer, but as the book has already been edited and proofed, there shouldn’t be too much work to do on it, which hopefully means a speedy publication. Regardless, I’ll keep you all updated with how it’s going.

What was also exciting is that Next Chapter also accepted the two new poetry collections I submitted to them a few months ago, as well as my upper middle grade/ young adult fantasy crossover book, Nekromancer’s Cage, which I sent to them just after The Origin Stone. Nekromancer’s Cage has been on submission for a long time and though it garnered lots of interest, no one took it further than that, so it really is a relief to haveĀ  a publisher for it at last. I’d say it’s quite a dark read, while still containing lots of humour – if I had to compare the tone of it to one of my other books, it’s probably closest to my third Half-Wizard Thordric book, Unseasoned Adventurer. I know that’s somewhat vague, so I’ll also mention that it contains magical post-it notes, musical bandits and a talking cat.

I know that having so many books accepted at once will mean lots of revision, so this year is likely to be full of editing various projects and juggling things around, but revision is something I enjoy (I think because quite a lot of it is puzzle solving).

Overall, I’m really pleased that I have a home for these books, and it’s a most encouraging start to the year.

 

Poetry

Bard Dance

We paste on our faces and squelch down our thoughts,

produce positive, can-do attitudes to adhere to the court.

Seething inside, maybe; overwhelmed, swamped under,

forever unable to give in to our thunder.

The days melt under the heat and converge into one,

a conjunction of swarming bees whose tasks are never done.

Bodies we are close too, silent they must be,

still encourage us with a gesture only we can see.

And after the hour-chains finally let us retire,

we crash under waves that we have perspired.