Tags: death and the madwoman


A snippet, just because.

" His name was Blais Begart, and he was an Eschappé. A troublemaker, the mayor would most likely call him, a rabblerousing criminal dedicated to nothing more than destruction.
The mayor might have been surprised to learn that Blais agreed with him. It was only their views on the value of that destruction that divided them. The mayor and his friends clung jealously to their wealth and property. The Eschappés sought to tear it from their grasp."

4k into the rewrites, and this book is nailing its socialist colours firmly to the mast.

In other news, spring/summer seems finally to have arrived and, along with it my summer SAD. Oh, well. The majority will be happy to see the sun, I guess.

Skirt of the day: gold silk wrap

The Next Big Thing

I've been tagged to do this at least 3 times -- by Kat Richardson over on Google+, by Jaine Fenn on Facebook and by kateelliott here. And I've procrastinated, because I'm not really sure what to write about. However....

1) What is the working title of your next book?
Death and the Madwoman
2) Where did the idea come from for the book?
It's the sequel to The Grass King's Concubine, concerned with what happens when Aude and Jehan return to the Brass City.
3) What genre does your book fall under?
Fantasy (with socialism)
4) What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?
Aude -- Indian actress Vidya Balan.
Liyan -- the great Yuen Biao c.1989, with the long hair from his film The Iceman Cometh, but with red and orange streaks.
Qiaqia -- Brigitte Lin Qin-Hsia c.1982 (think Zu: Warriors of the Magic Mountain)
Madame de Faumont -- probably Farida Jalal
Remi de Faumont -- this is a tricky one. Maybe Sharman Joshi, but less handsome than usual!
Monsieur des Roces -- Jean-Hugues Anglade
Jehan -- argh. I can never cast Jehan, though I'd know him if I met him. He's one of those pleasant faced ordinary people; a plain Saif Ali Khan, maybe, or Atul Kulkarni (without the usual moustache).
5) What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Umm, the title, with added revolution
6) Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
It's under contract to DAW, and was sold by my agency (Zeno)
7) How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?
A year.
8) What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Oh, help. The Anubis Gates, maybe, or The Labyrinth Gate but with more revolution than those to.
9) Who or what inspired you to write this book?
Dumas! (As ever.)
10) What else about the book might pique the reader's interest?
No ferrets, this time, but a lot of it is about Liyan and Qiaqia and their story. And about revolutionary politics, workers' rights, and the awakening of the dead.

And it's done

It's done. Death and the Madwoman is finished and submitted to DAW.
Colour me shattered.
It's okay, I think. I reread it and fixed typos and egregious errors over the weekend at the Cambridge Folk Festival, which was.... interesting. Particularly the bit with the Huge Hailstorm. I was soaked through to the skin, literally. The manuscript stayed safe and dry.

Did I mention that I'm shattered?

Skirt of the day: blue flouncey.

This blog supports Betsy Wollheim for Best Editor (Long Form) at the Hugos.


A really good writing day, today -- the marquis is up in Bradford, on a site visit for EightSquared so I have no excuse not to be writing. 2120 words, an important chapter finished and another, equally important one begun. Here's a snippet:

"Mado knelt beside it, arms wrapped about herself, rocking back and forth. Blood spattered her, soaked into her gown and apron, coated her forearms and hands, streaked her face. She moaned as she rocked, low, regular sounds from her diaphragm. The curtains had not been drawn: through them, Mothmoon shone, riding high behind a lace veil of light cloud, tinting everything in the room with a faint, luminous grey sheen. He could see himself by its light, reflected in the great gilt-framed mirror that his mother kept above the hearth. Himself, tired and a little dishevelled in his uniform; the scatter of cluttered small tables with which madame filled the room; the harp-backed easy chairs kept for guests, the sofa, one end in shadow.
"The corpse on the rug."

De Faumont is enraged; Aude is rabble-rousing; and Qiaqia... Well, Qiaqia is about to do what only she can.

Skirt of the day: denim


I have made a metrics post for a while, it occurs to me. Death and the Madwoman is gathering pace and the end-game (if not the end) is in sight, I think. I hope!
1604 new words added today. Jehan is watching and Aude is pondering, as the city begins to fall apart. Here's a snippet:

"The men and women who owned factories and mines and mills could choose, as she had, to visit them, to inspect conditions and ask questions. They could choose to care, if their employees were content, if they were well-fed and well-treated. Most of them did not. Most of them were like her uncle. They did not mean to be cruel, they did not set out to do harm, but they simply did not know enough to avoid either – and they took no steps to learn. They looked at balance sheets and profits, at the ups and downs of international trade and the pressures of supply and demand and they placed those interests first. To her uncle, a factory hand was as much as piece of equipment as a loom-weight or a shuttle or a spindle."

My politics are on my sleeve.

Skirt of the day: green floral cotton wrap.