How is it the end of May already? Where did this wonderful month go?
So… How did Wyrd and Wonder go?
I had an enormously fantastic time! I think my favourite aspect, hands down, was the photo challenge. It really made me think of all the different fantasy books I love:
So many gorgeous covers…
Speaking of which, did you catch my Top Ten Fantasy Covers?
I managed to review three books this month! Shock. Horror. Amaze. I think that may be a record for me…
So here’s a little run down of what I reviewed:
Red Sister by Mark Lawrence.
First and foremost, Mark Lawrence is an incredible story teller. It’s a feast of a novel; a slow burning plot to savour and take your time with, paired with some truly delicious prose. His style and tone wraps around you for an immensely immersive experience…
Grey Sister by Mark Lawrence.
I’ve said it before and it’s something I’ll say again and again; Lawrence’s storytelling is masterful. Whereas Grey Sister is not a standalone novel and I would not recommend reading the books out of sync, neither is it your typical middle-book-crutch…
Kings of the Wyld by Nicholas Eames.
The tone of Eames’ writing is immediately very easy to read; you tumble into this story and devour pages before you even realise. The language he uses is nuanced, I love his descriptive turn of phrase…
Speaking of reviews, every Friday throughout the month I featured some fellow fantasy book reviewers and examples of their reviews. My hope was to boost various reviewers, blogs and websites but also bring you my readers some new blogs to follow! I feel it was pretty successful ^_^
Here’s a run down:
|Week 1||Week 2|
|Week 3||Week 4|
a first for my blog
To celebrate Wyrd and Wonder, I had my first ever Q & As! I interviewed the wyrd and wonderful A. Z. Anthony and Anna Stephens…
Can you tell us what a normal working day looks like for you?
Wake up early, look over at my fiancée, remind myself how lucky she is to have me, then – oh, sorry. I’m supposed to be more down to Earth for these interviews, aren’t I? Right…
Did you ever worry, when writing it, that you were reaching a limit or crossing a line?
This is probably where I should talk about the hammer scene, isn’t it? That scene is somewhat notorious among those who’ve read Godblind. Did I expect it to become so? Absolutely not….
I am so very grateful to A.Z and Anna for agreeing to be interviewed for my blog, and for being such fab sports with my endless questions!
As promised at the beginning of the month, here’s a snippet from my WiP…
From here, the estuary lays spread out before me. The castle and its humble town at its feet. The sister rivers snaking to the sea, swollen with the tide. From here, the view of the coast catches my breath in my throat. The sea mirrors the blanket haze of the sky, the holy island the only break upon the horizon. As I stand and watch, the rain is slowly gathering out there; a gentle mantle woven by the monks to cover the coastline, blanketing more and more as it approaches.
Before me the rain. Behind me, amongst the shifting softness of nervous men and mounts, the anger swells. I feel it looming. In my men and my sons, who have all drank deep from my passionate well. In the men I left at home, so trusting of this day’s victory; and my men travelling north, already preparing for the next battle. The anger swells. In the very ground at my feet and the mountain at my back. I feel it rising within me. As I look down upon them. My enemy. Our enemy. Creeping along the river bank from the castle in far more numbers than I had expected.
They shall have to ford that river to get to us. In the rain, and the mud, their fingers numb in the cold. We shall wait, we shall bide, as they force their mounts across and through the wern. And once they are half way across we shall catch them and their numbers won’t mean a thing. I always did fight best with my ally the water close by, the icy salt sea of the northern race flowing through my veins, the songs of my mother a pounding in my breast. My blood runs cold. So cold it burns.
We shall force them against the overflowing banks, we shall hew them down, and the river shall run red to the sea. Let de Londres watch the life of his men flow past his stronghold. We shall take this day; I shall take back his cantref.