31 May 2006
Today I'm trying to finish up the last revisions of The Mark of the Sea Serpent before I pass it off to first-readers. Naturally, this means that the entire concept of the book is flashing before my eyes, with lots of regrets. "I should have -- with the -- and -- oh dear oh dear oh dear."
Books. They're difficult. And this is one of the easy ones: short, in a voice that flows for me.
As far as other people's books go, I'm reading Arthur Marwick's The Deluge: British Society and the First World War, and as soon as I'm done with it, I'll start Naomi Novik's Black Powder War. I've heard people complaining about the hype for these Novik books, and it's true there's been a lot. But the thing is, they're fun. And that's not code for "badly written with lots of explosions." They've got adventure and relationships and societies and all sorts of stuff that's well-done and fun to read about. It's not quite at the "fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, true love" level of list, but there's a lot of different stuff to enjoy about these books. Sometimes the hype is right.
And there's the last bit of MSS for this draft. Good. Whew. On to other things. Like printing, and bed.
How many unconscious Norse gods do you have to drag around a story before it becomes a farce? I'm just wondering. Like, in theory. For no reason.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.