Archive for the ‘My Favorite Bit’ Category

My Favorite Bit: Lynn Flewelling talks about Casket of Souls

I’m going to get out of the way on this one and give you the publisher blurb because it does a better job of setting up the latest Nightrunner book, Casket of Souls, than I can.

The Nightrunners are back in this gripping novel full of Lynn Flewelling’s trademark action, intrigue, and richly imagined characters.

More than the dissolute noblemen they appear to be, Alec and Seregil are skillful spies, dedicated to serving queen and country. But when they stumble across evidence of a plot pitting Queen Phoria against Princess Klia, the two Nightrunners will find their loyalties torn as never before. Even at the best of times, the royal court at Rhíminee is a serpents’ nest of intrigue, but with the war against Plenimar going badly, treason simmers just below the surface.

And that’s not all that poses a threat: A mysterious plague is spreading through the crowded streets of the city, striking young and old alike. Now, as panic mounts and the body count rises, hidden secrets emerge. And as Seregil and Alec are about to learn, conspiracies and plagues have one thing in common: The cure can be as deadly as the disease.

And what is her favorite bit?


I have so many favorite bits in the latest Nightrunner book, Casket of Souls that it’s hard to narrow it down to one. Some of them would be spoilers, and others have to be taken in context. I got to return to the intrigue and debauchery of Rhíminee nightrunning, had my beloved Seregil do an impromptu striptease in a crowded gambling house, threw a birthday party for Alec. . . Oh yeah, just one.

I was on an epic fantasy panel at Comic Con last month, and one of the audience members posed the question, “Who is your favorite character to write about?” That seems like a pretty straightforward, common, one word answer kind of question. But what I heard coming out of my mouth was “All of them.”

In Casket of Souls, as with all my books, I use multiple viewpoint characterization. So in the course of that book I wrote in the skin of not only my main and major secondary characters, and the villains, which is always delicious, but also did a few chapters about poor children who you never see again, but who really advance one of the plot threads. And I write those chapters with all the heart and attention I gave to Seregil or Alec or Thero.

When you’re writing a POV character, you have to be totally in the moment with them, totally inside their skin. I think that’s why multiple POV really delights me; you get to be so many people so deeply.

So— I have this little girl character and I have one rather brief chapter to make her real enough for the readers to care about her. She lives in the seaside slums of Rhíminee. She’s barefoot in a ragged hand-me-down dress. She’s dragging home a dead seagull nearly as big as she is (yes, I stole that from the end of A Christmas Carol). She looks into its shiny golden eye and wishes it was a bead she could wear, because she is so starved for anything beautiful in her precarious young life. In her tangled hair is a tiny blue bow, made from ribbon her mother found trampled in the street and lovingly washed and divided among her little daughters, a sad bit of prettiness in a drab and hopeless world.

I don’t know where all that came from. I had no idea any of that was going to flow out of my fingers onto the screen when I sat down to write that day. She just appeared when I needed her, and took on life because I was with her in an immediate state. I ached for that little girl, not only for her ultimate fate, but for the reality I’d just imposed on her, and what it said about poverty and classism in the Nightrunner world, and the real one. I live for moments like that in the writing process. So that’s my favorite bit.


Casket of Souls: amazon| B&N | indiebound


Lynn Flewelling is the author of the Nightrunner Series and the Tamír Triad, as well as a number short stories and articles on writing. The first Nightrunner book, Luck in the Shadows, was publishes in 1996; the latest, Casket of Souls, is now on the shelves. Her short story “Namesake” recently appeared in the new shared world anthology, Tales of the Emerald Serpent, available in e book format.

My Favorite Bit: Gregory Frost talks about the short story “Vulpes”

I’m very happy to have my first guest in to speak about a short story.  I often feel that short story writers don’t have enough opportunities to talk about their craft. So the My Favorite Bit feature is a place where they can. My first guest is Gregory Frost. He writes both short fiction and novels, but is here to day to focus on a short.

Let’s hear what he has to say about his Favorite Bit.


Rule for Writers #1: Save Everything

Most writers I know keep notebooks full of odd bits of string: story ideas that, in the end, they didn’t find compelling enough to write; descriptions they plan to find a use for somewhere, someday; notes from something they read that just screamed out of the article at the time, so they diligently scribbled something that they knew would one day cause them to spend something like two weeks of going through every page of every notebook just to locate, because you can’t quite remember the original place you saw it, and that notation is all you’ve got.

This is akin a conversation I had with author Jack Dann back before he moved to Australia, where Jack said “If you are wandering through a used bookstore and you come upon a book that screams ‘Buy Me!’ you must do so. Otherwise, six months or a year from now you’re going to realize you do need that book and it will be long gone.” We often don’t know why something is important; we just know that it is.

About 20 years back, for pure pleasure, I read a great non-fiction book by Paul Barber titled Vampires, Burial, and Death. The short summary of this book is: everything you need to know about why, historically, everybody believed in vampires. Among the many interesting bits of information contained within is Barber’s analysis of every incident he could find where corpses suspected of being vampires were exhumed. Out of all of them, only one dead body was determined not to be a vampire. In the Middle Ages, it seems, if you were accused of being a vampire post-mortem, you were totally screwed.

Somewhere in the midst of this all, in a brief passage, Barber made mention of a Romanian legend regarding white wolves/werewolves and how they were the guardians of cemeteries, protecting the living from–what else?–the vampires. That snippet just glued itself to the inside of my head and remained there.
I’ve long since come up with the premise for a novel and screenplay spun from it. I will get around to that real soon now…

But last year author Jonathan Maberry invited me to contribute a novella to an anthology he was editing, V-Wars, which made its debut in July. The premise of V-Wars is that calving ice shelves in the Antarctic release ancient organisms that interact with “junk” DNA in the human genome and recreate a long-gone life form: the vampire. And not just your generic vampire, but a vampire spun from specific cultural contexts–a world of strange and contradictory vampires. Some of them shun the light and have those fangs we all know about. Others welcome the light and have teeth like barracudas. Jonathan invited vampires and stories from all over the world.

For me that invitation was a “squee!” moment. Without hesitation I reached for Barber’s comment about Romanian lore. This had been sitting there in the dark for two decades just waiting the right opportunity, and here it was. Enter my character, Ruksana, stage right: a female scientist working with ice core samples whose family history is … a bit unusual.

The story is called “Vulpes.”

[Side note: About four months back, a scientific report came out stating that, indeed, bacteria are being released from ice where they’ve lain dormant for thousands of years. So in the diabolically warped way of writers, the contributors to the anthology are giddy that global climate change is validating our fiction.


V-Wars  amazon | B&N
Gregory Frost’s website

Gregory Frost is a writer of best-selling fantasy, supernatural thrillers and science fiction. He has been a finalist for every major fantasy, sf, and horror fiction award. His latest work is the YA-crossover duology, Shadowbridge
& Lord Tophet, voted “one of the four best fantasy novels of the year” by the American Library Association. His previous novel, the historical thriller, Fitcher’s Brides, was a finalist for both the World Fantasy and International Horror Guild Awards for Best Novel. His latest short fiction appears in Supernatural Noir, edited by Ellen Datlow. He is the current fiction workshop director at Swarthmore College in Swarthmore, PA.

My Favorite Bit: Cassie Alexander talks about Nightshifted

What happens when you take your urban fantasty and hand it to a registered nurse? You get a secret ward at the local hospital which caters to vampires, were-things, and zombies. Cassie Alexander’s debut novel follows the newest nurse on the ward, Edie Spence, as she tries to treat with the world of the paranormal and gets caught up in a mystery.

Want to hear what Cassie’s favorite bit of Nightshifted is? I thought so.


My favorite part of Nightshifted is definitely the syphilitic were-dragon. I love all the medical stuff in my books, but he wins hands down.

Part of the point of Nightshifted was me wanting to push back against all the supernatural creatures that were untouchable, always hale and healthy, who never had to worry about dying. I wanted to figure out how I could break those molds. Putting supernatural creatures in a hospital – when I happened to be a nurse who worked at a hospital – gave me that chance.

It took me awhile to get into writing Nightshifted. I was luring myself back into the book arena after nine books worth of no one else being interested in anything that I’d done. Nine books is a lot of rejection to handle, and my ninth book in particular I was so in love with that it not selling broke my writing-heart. After I trunked it, it took me two years to even try to write again. So when the idea for Nightshifted occurred to me, I pretended that it was a set of interconnecting short stories. I think secretly I knew it wanted to be a novel…but I was careful to pretend that I wasn’t falling for it. Like a jilted lover, I didn’t want to let myself get hurt again.

As it turned out, pretending that I wasn’t writing a book gave me the freedom to indulge in frankly crazy ideas – like my dragon with an STD, which was going to be the third of my short stories. I wanted to surprise people with something they’d never seen before. You never hear of supernatural creatures having any consequences for all of their unprotected sex. You also don’t hear about protagonists going to get STD tests either, which is another thing I do in my book. I know I’ve made bad choices here and there – why shouldn’t my protagonist? Or the weredragon up the block?

Past the weredragon, I love dropping in weird bits of medical knowledge in my books. Like the fact that Al Capone also had syphilis. It’s not a disease you think about often. (Unless you’re me. Who has actually had a patient with syphilis before.) I delight in secretly teaching people weird medical things, the only hazard is that sometimes current medicine changes on you. The new guidelines for CPR and advanced cardiac life support came out between me writing Nightshifted and Moonshifted, and all of a sudden you don’t give people atropine anymore for pulseless electrical activity when they code. I happened to be doing page proofs at the time and caught it, but now I live in fear of other parts of my books becoming anachronistic and quaint — although I hope to hell in ten years new readers don’t understand my slams against the insurance agencies because everyone is finally decently covered.

So yes, my favorite bit is the dragon. But secondarily to that – everything else! ;).


Nightshifted  amazon | B&N | indiebound

Her website is


Cassie Alexander is a registered nurse and the author of Nightshifted, her debut novel out from St. Martin’s Press.

My Favorite Bit: J. A. Pitts talks about Forged in Fire

What I particularly like about J. A. Pitts is that he doesn’t take the easy route. Forged in Fire is the third book in the Sarah Beauhall series, which are what happens when you take epic fantasy and set it in modern day Seattle. Seriously. Dragons in Seattle. What could be better? He takes it up a notch in the new book, while retaining the character intimacy that he started in the first. Let’s give him a chance to tell us what his Favorite Bit is.


One of my favorite aspects of the Sarah Beauhall books is the ever evolving notion of family with all the myriad definitions, configurations and obligations.

Are we doomed to only have the blood family we are born into or can we build new social structures that fulfill those same roles? When is a lover more than family? As friends come into your life, when do they cross over from being someone you like to hang out with occasionally to someone you’d fight a dragon for?

As Sarah and Katie explore their growing relationship, they begin to solidify their own social structure — stratifying individuals into support groups and mutual beneficiaries of their deeply held emotions. They bring folks into their orbit that bolster their ideas of the world, encourage their choices, shore-up their short-comings and generally band-aid their flaws.

Isn’t that what family is supposed to do?

In the opening scene of Forged in Fire, Sarah and Katie are hunting a renegade troll that has been killing livestock, stirring up the local Western Washington farmers. Only once they’ve killed the troll, they find out she’s left behind twin babies. That night, as they camp out in the troll’s lair with the orphans they discuss their own thoughts of family.

“You ever thought about having kids?” Katie asked me after the fire had burned low.

“I’ve never been all that interested,” I said. “I just never considered it something I needed to do. Don’t get me wrong, I think kids are fine.”

She made a noise beside me that I couldn’t interpret.

“But I just never figured on getting pregnant, bringing a child into this world. Especially now with everything I know about the dragons and worse.”

“I thought I’d have a daughter,” Katie said sleepily. “Someone to teach to play guitar. Someone to have tea parties with and play dress-up.”

“You never know,” I whispered. She didn’t answer and before long, I heard her steady breathing that let me know she’d gone to sleep.

Katie may very well be the best thing that ever happened to me. I cared more for her happiness than damn near anything else on the planet. I’d thought about living the rest of my life with her, back when I thought I was gonna have a long one. Now with the dragons, and the sword, Gram, I wasn’t sure I’d live out the winter. Put a totally different spin on things.

I tried to keep it together, not to let things spin out of control. But I’m not sure how well that was working for me. Let’s forget the fact I fought giants and trolls, killed a dragon, forged an ancient sword and had to deal with a crotchety and half-crazed homeless guy who either was Odin, or channeled him on a regular basis. Magic really existed in the world. There were some nasty things out there that wanted to kill me. Hell, some of them wanted to eat me.

And now, filled with a righteousness that blurred the lines of right and wrong, I’d killed this troll. She was a living, breathing, thinking, caring entity who wanted nothing more than to keep her family safe. Isn’t that what we all wanted? How did this make me any different than the fucking dragons?

I lay awake for a long time, the throbbing in my leg was dull compared to the one in my heart.

You’ll have to read the book to see what happens to those baby trolls, but the questions of family and the power behind them permeates this entire series.

Family is very important to me personally. I am fiercely protective of those I consider my tribe. Blood or bond, we have those who make our lives greater by their sheer existence and I am thankful for having them in my lives.


Forged in Fire: amazon | Barnes & Noble | indiebound

J. A. Pitts on the web


JA Pitts resides in the Pacific Northwest where he has hosts discussion groups with dragons, drinks fire whiskey with giants, shares recipes with hedge witches and compare tattoos to the trolls that roam the urban landscape he’s come to love.  His books can be found in all cool bookstores or on the aethernet for those magical reading devices that are popular with the hipsters.  He’s in the market for a really good sword.:

My Favorite Bit: A. M. Dellamonica talks about Blue Magic

I’m very excited about the newest installment in the Books of Chantments universe. I so enjoy the way magic is handled as something that is both powerful and can embue ordinary objects with extraordinary properties. So what is the author’s Favorite Bit? Let’s see.


I had to think a fair amount about this idea of a favorite bit for my novel BLUE MAGIC. It’s not that I don’t love just about a million things in my Books of Chantments universe. If anything, I was spoiled for choice. But many of the things that sprang to mind first seemed far too spoilery to squee about.

On second look, though, I decided many of those story elements were tied into the character of Juanita Corazon. I’ve realized that one of the neat things about writing the sequel to INDIGO SPRINGS (my first sequel, which sounds like a contradiction in terms) was getting to bring in someone who was new to the whole magical mess that I created in the first book. Don’t get me wrong–I love writing about Astrid Lethewood and Ev and Will and even Sahara Knax . . . but when I embarked on the beginning of BLUE MAGIC, I had a pretty good sense of where they had to end up. (At least, that’s how I remember it.)

With Juanita I got to carve out a little unexplored terrain. New person, new point of view character. Newness is alluring; it’s got a shine to it that the familiar just doesn’t.

So what do I love about this character? One of the most important things Juanita brings to this messed up mystical apocalypse is super-competence.

I know I’m not the only person who finds the ability to just do a job well and completely very sexy. And it may be that there’s a dearth of that in these books. It’s not that everyone besides Juanita is dumb, but a lot of them are inventing wheels–magic has just burst back into the world, and the people working with it are figuring everything out from the basics. It’s all trial and error. Will Forest, meanwhile, is great at what he does, normally (he’s a criminal psychologist and hostage negotiator) but his children are missing and so he’s operating at far below his normal wattage.

Juanita’s a Federal Marshall doing a great job of something that’s, maybe, a bit easy for her. She was contemplating getting into something else before the magical outbreak upheaved everything, and so she gets this comparatively plum posting at Sahara Knax’s trial for treason.

As the book progresses, she gets more and more dumped on her, and nobody really sees it. As far as all these wizards and witch-burners are concerned, she’s a means to an end. There’s a four-way struggle to control enchantment–the U.S. military is duking it out with two brands of religious zealot and Astrid Lethewood’s volunteers–and every single faction is coming to Juanita. Some of them are polite enough to ask; then there are the ones saying ‘do this or we’ll kill your family.’ But they’re underestimating her: they all see her as a minimally educated cop in a dead end job. They don’t realize they’re each giving her information about their faction and she’s using it to build her own picture of what’s going on. It’s not that she knows everything as the magical struggle unfolds, but she becomes the only person who’s got pieces of everyone’s puzzle.

Somehow she has to sort through all that information and prophecy and propaganda about the various agendas of all the factions and confront the super-powerful individuals running them. She has to do it without getting arrested, enchanted or killed and still manage to make the right choice.

I think she really rises to the occasion.



A.M. Dellamonica‘s new novel, Blue Magic, is the sequel to her 2009 Sunburst Award winning novel Indigo Springs. A resident of Vancouver, British Columbia, she is the author of over thirty short stories and teaches writing through the UCLA Writers’ Extension Program.

My Favorite Bit: Mike Underwood talks about Geekomancy

Here we have a debut novel by Mike Underwood for your consideration. For Geekomancy he’s basically turned geek culture into a magic system. Let’s see what his favorite bit is, shall we?


I have a lot of favorite bits in Geekomancy – weaving geek language into conversation, Geekomancy as a literalization of the power of fandom, and more. But the favorite bit I don’t talk about as much is the fact that I got to introduce the world to Drake Winters.

Or, as I always say his name in my head, DRAKE WINTERS! Drake is an encapsulation and willing over-extension of my idea of a pulpy steampunk adventurer. He is a walking, talking, extra-large serving of earnest enthusiasm, and writing him is an utter delight.

Geekomancy is a contemporary urban fantasy, with a magic system derived from the relationship between the magicians (called Geekomancers) and their favorite cultural properties. My main character can watch The Matrix and channel Wire Fu, and her mentor uses nostalgia-fueled props as the weapons they were in film (lightsaber, blaster, etc.)

But Drake is a throwback, a man out of time, an intruder from a different genre. Drake Winters was originally created for a tabletop RPG that I ran in a homebrew setting. Even then, Drake was a man out of time, an inventor hero from the land of Avalon – a steam-tastic analogue of England. After stumbling into Faerie, he falls in with the charismatic figure known as The Contessa of the Lapis Galleon, who he calls his Mistress.

Because ultimately, Drake Winters is a Doctor Who shout-out wrapped in a Changeling: The Lost character concept. Changeling: The Lost (by White Wolf Publishing) is a tabletop RPG where all of the characters have survived a period of captivity in the mind-and-body-warping land of Faerie. When the game came up, the premise for Changeling and the format for Doctor Who collided in my mind with this question: what if you had a female Time Lord who dimension-hopped instead of time-hopped, and picked up impressionable men, adventured with them, seduced them with the power of her personality, then dumped them unceremoniously far from home? Drake was my answer to that question.

So when I decided to bring Drake Winters into Geekomancy, the character was already firmly established in my brain. He was brash, intelligent, stuffy, verbose, and compassionate. He’s a fantasy rather than Science Fiction version of steampunk, with magic and technology combined with devices like Aerothopters and Aetheric Breakthrough Actuators.

Drake isn’t a geek in the contemporary sense, but his entire character concept is rooted in intertextuality and genre-mashing. He’s my chance to play with some of the fun bits of the steampunk subgenre on my own terms. And since he is almost entirely pop-culture illiterate, he served as a good counter-point to Ree, Geekomancy’s main character, who grew up on texts like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and is a native speaker of Geek-Speak.

Writing Drake is easy, from his voice to his too-formal manner. I just tap into the part of my brain labeled ADVENTURE! and combine it with an intentionally anachronistic verbosity. Drake was so much fun to write that I had to rein him in and make sure he didn’t take over the novel. Geekomancy is Ree’s story, and Drake is just a guest star. But every time I write him, I grow more confident that Drake will get his own time in the spotlight someday.

But for now, he’s My Favorite Bit in Geekomancy – a delightful joke character who turned out to be a fantastic companion in his own right.


GeekomancyAmazon.comBarnes & Noble | iBooks



Michael R. Underwood grew up devouring stories in all forms: movies, comics, TV, video games, and novels. He holds a B.A. in Creative Mythology and East Asian Studies from Indiana University and an M.A. in Folklore Studies from the University of Oregon, which have been great preparation for writing speculative fiction. Michael went straight from his M.A. to the Clarion West Writers Workshop and then landed in Bloomington, Indiana, where he remains. When not writing or selling books across the Midwest as an independent book representative, Michael dances Argentine Tango and studies renaissance martial arts. Geekomancy is his first novel, coming July 10th from Pocket Star for all eBook platforms.

My Favorite Bit: Dan Wells talks about The Hollow City

It’s no secret that I like Dan Wells’s writing. A lot. So I was nervous about The Hollow City
because I had high expectations. He totally lived up to them.

We talk about the writing process on Writing Excuses all the time. Today, Dan is going to tell you about his favorite bit.


I started writing THE HOLLOW CITY several years ago, more as a thought experiment than anything else: could I write a schizophrenia novel? Could I write a schizophrenia novel that was also a horror story, AND a thriller, AND a cool mystery, and still make it all work? I did a lot of research into schizophrenia itself, and the treatment and medication and such, to make sure that I got it all right, but I quickly realized that the mental disorder wasn’t the hard part. Despite how hard they were, the constant shifts in reality weren’t really the hard part either. The hard part was tip-toeing through the vast minefield of schizophrenia cliches without blowing the entire book to smithereens.

Some of the cliches are unavoidable. Part of me likes to read/watch/devour schizophrenia stories just because of the moment where you realize that one of the characters isn’t real. It’s a cliché, but it’s a fun one, and it’s a part of what attracted me to the genre in the first place. My answer to this was two-fold: first, I made sure that I focused a lot of attention on the other, less-flashy symptoms of schizophrenia, like depression and disorganized behavior. Hallucinations are the ‘cool’ part, narratively speaking, but the other stuff is far more important to how the disorder works, and the effects it has on the lives of the patients and their families. Being sure to give those aspects equal treatment expanded the book in some very neat ways, helping to take it in new directions I hadn’t anticipated. But that’s not my favorite bit.

The other way I softened the cliché was to have the hallucinatory characters, once they were finally revealed, mean more and do more than the cliché usually allows. Imaginary characters are, after all, still characters, and can still do some very cool things. Playing with that, and finding new ways for the hallucinations to stay meaningful, was one of the most enjoyable parts of writing the book. But that’s not my favorite bit either.

Softening a cliché is not the same thing as avoiding it, and I wanted to really go the extra mile on this one. The core cliché of a schizophrenia story—of any story about hallucinations or delusions or madness—is the resolution, where the character slowly realizes that these things aren’t real, and sorts himself out, and triumphantly rejoins the normal world. THAT’S a cliché I can turn on its head, and that was absolutely my favorite bit. The main character, Michael Shipman, lives in a haze of false information, surrounded by monsters and conspiracies and sights and sounds and memories he can’t explain. He struggles to sort them out, but some of them won’t sort. Some of his hallucinations are real—not all, but some—and they are not the ones he likes. Instead of a book about curing the madness, THE HOLLOW CITY is a book about piecing together which bits of madness are a part of the puzzle, and what the puzzle means, and what he can do about it. There’s a sequence at the end where all of those pieces click into place, one after another, and the picture they form is terrifying. That’s absolutely my favorite bit.

I even named the book after it.


The Hollow City amazon | b&n| indiebound


Dan Wells lives in Germany. A bachelor’s in English has led him to a successful career as a corporate writer for close to ten years. His first horror novel, I Am Not A Serial Killer is available from Tor books.

My Favorite Bit: James Maxey talks about Hush

Do you like dragons? You know you do. James Maxey who I’ve been a fan of since I discovered his book Nobody Gets the Girl has two different series with dragons. Today he’s going to tell us a little bit about Hush.


is the second novel in my Dragon Apocalypse series. What drew me to the series overall was a desire to go in a different direction from my previous fantasy novels, the Bitterwood trilogy. While those books have their moments of humor, they are mostly grim and gritty novels about men and dragons locked in a genocidal struggle. I strove for as much realism as its possible to bring to world where half the characters have scales and wings. While people believe in magic and gods in the Bitterwood universe, it’s arguable that no actual magic occurs. I took care that most of the things that happened remained within the realm of known physical laws.

Hush is the second novel in my Dragon Apocalypse series. What drew me to the series overall was a desire to go in a different direction from my previous fantasy novels, the Bitterwood trilogy. While those books have their moments of humor, they are mostly grim and gritty novels about men and dragons locked in a genocidal struggle. I strove for as much realism as its possible to bring to world where half the characters have scales and wings. While people believe in magic and gods in the Bitterwood universe, it’s arguable that no actual magic occurs. I took care that most of the things that happened remained within the realm of known physical laws.

With the Dragon Apocalypse, I said, “Screw that!” and went all in on magic. My characters have a mythic understanding of the world and I write from the assumption that these myths are correct. The sun is a dragon that daily flies across the sky. The stars are glittering ice floes floating in a vast overhead ocean. When volcano’s belch fire, it means the dragon’s awake. The material world of the Dragon Apocalypse exists as a sort of malleable fiction shaped by the beliefs of its inhabitants, and men clever enough to understand this have the power to reshape the world simply by convincing others of their lies. Of course, men aren’t the only characters shaping this world. Dragons in this reality aren’t just big lizards, they’re spiritual beings whose souls permeate the elements they control. Light a candle and Greatshadow, the primal dragon of fire, stares out at you through the flame, waiting for you to grow careless so he can devour you.

The master plot of Hush involves the mischief of one of these primal dragons, the eponymous dragon of cold. Hush has allied herself with a two-hundred year old ghost witch who’s on a mission to kill Glorious, the dragon of the sun, wanting to lock the world into the perfect stillness of an eternal winter’s night. To achieve this end, the witch, Purity, is sailing across the Great Sea Above in a walrus skin boat, hunting for Glorious so she can stab him with an enchanted harpoon. As I was writing, I had several moments where I thought, “Well, this is plausible!” The surprising thing was, it usually was. Hush follows the logic of myths, an old and enduring gut level understanding of the world that still shapes our daily lives. Reality can be counterintuitive and is under no obligation to make sense. Learning that winter comes because we live on a tilted ball of rock orbiting a very hot ball of gas might be accurate, but it’s not exactly a stirring foundation for drama. But when the sun is a dragon locked in constant war with his jilted lover, whose icy heart chills the earth as she seeks to drive him from the sky, you’ve got an epic love story.

And yet, despite all of the big picture mythology that frames the story, Hush is grounded by a much more human tale. Stagger and Infidel are husband and wife, a pair of charming rogues who made their living looting ancient ruins. Alas, Stagger doesn’t survive the first book. (This isn’t a spoiler. Stagger dies in the very first chapter of Greatshadow, but his ghost carries on as the novel’s narrator.) As a disembodied spirit, Stagger doesn’t see a lot of action in the first book. But, in the second book, a witch named Sorrow builds a wooden golem to serve her and captures a ghost to animate it. Stagger is that hapless ghost. Fortunately, Sorrow and Infidel wind up as passengers on the same boat, bringing Stagger close to his wife once more, but trapped inside a body with no tongue and no power of movement beyond obeying Sorrow’s commands. Worse, his soul is like a battery for the golem, an energy source that gives psuedo-life to his wooden limbs. The more Sorrow commands him, the closer he comes to the final extinction of his soul.

When Sorrow discovers that the soul inside her golem might know the location of a lost sacred site she’s been seeking, she builds the golem a paper tongue, and grants him the power to write so he can draw her a map. Stagger winds up with the opportunity to write his wife the love letter he never wrote her in life, a final message to both her and their yet to be born daughter. That scene, where he’s given a second chance to say the things he never got to say in life, stands out for me.

Several years ago, I fell in love with a woman named Laura, and fairly early in our relationship she developed breast cancer. For most of the remaining years I knew her, there were certain conversations that were off limits for us. She was determined to fight the cancer until her very last breath, but knew her prognosis had started bad and was only getting worse. She was determined to draw as much wonder from every day of life as possible, but one trade off of living in the now was that we just never brought up hopes and dreams for ten years out, or five, or even two. Only after she was gone did I regret not broaching these topics. I wonder, absent the disease, what her long term goals would have been. Stagger’s abrupt death also robbed him of the chance to talk about his hopes and dreams. In giving him the chance to write a letter from beyond the grave, I give at least his dreams a chance to survive.

There’s a lot of golly-gee whiz, larger-than-life action swirling across every page of Hush. The ship sails across the afterlife of sailors, the Sea of Wine. Before they reach Hush, they’re hunted by Rott, the primal dragon of decay. My super-powered sailors fight yetis and ice-wyrms, flying whales and naked giants, and, of course, some huge freakin’ dragons. I’m bringing the epic to epic fantasy. But, despite all the wonders, if you’ve ever loved, and especially if you’ve ever loved and lost, I’m betting that the thing that haunts you about this book is going to be the ghost who gets his second chance.


Hush: Amazon | barnes & noble | indiebound


In 1954, psychologist Fredric Wertham published his influential work, Seduction of the Innocent, which argued that comic books were dangerous for children. Exaggerated portrayals of violence and sexual deviancy weakened morals, and crude art and simplistic writing weakened intellectual development. James Maxey’s mother never read this book.

As a result, James was allowed to read 103,619 comic books before the age of 18. As an adult, he spends an unhealthy portion of his income on these fetish objects, compulsively sealing them in plastic bags and hoarding them in towering stacks of boxes. Continue reading ›

My Favorite Bit: D.B. Jackson talks about Thieftaker

For full disclosure, I blurbed this book and loved it. It feeds all of my historical fantasy jollies, as well as being an interesting detective story. What’s particularly great about D.B. Jackson, which his bio doesn’t say, is that he’s a history professor. The man knows his stuff and in this case, his stuff is pre-Revolutionary war Boston.

And now, let’s see what his favorite bit is.


I like weaving together multiple plot strands, creating braids of narrative that carry my reader toward culminating scenes that they can anticipate but not fully predict.

I enjoy worldbuilding, taking a setting and making it come alive to the senses so that it is as rich and tactile as any “real” place my readers might know.

But most of all, I love to create characters whose triumphs and failings touch my readers’ emotions.

So, perhaps it’s predictable that my favorite bits in all my books involve those emotional payoff moments when all the terrible, mean, duplicitous, delicious things I do to my heros and heroines finally become too much for the poor souls to bear. Caught in that moment when they must buckle or find strengths they didn’t know they possessed, they act, for better or worse.

And in the aftermath, if I’ve done my job correctly, they have prevailed, but they have lost something that they can never regain. Invariably, these are the most powerful moments in my novels. And if as I write them, even my throat feels thick, even my eyes sting, I know that I’ve nailed the scene.

There is (at least) one such moment in my latest book, Thieftaker, a historical urban fantasy, which comes out today, July 3! My hero, Ethan Kaille, who is a thieftaker and conjurer in Colonial Boston, does battle with a mysterious spellcrafter who is determined that Ethan should cease his inquiry into the murder of a young woman, the daughter of a wealthy family. Ethan is on the verge of being beaten, his own conjuring powers overmastered by those of his enemy. What is worse, an innocent young man, the son of a woman Ethan once intended to marry, is doomed to die at the hands of this conjurer if Ethan fails.

But at the last moment, Ethan has one last opportunity to defeat the conjurer (at least for the moment), make his escape, and save the boy as well. The catch is that he must do something truly horrible — nearly as reprehensible in his own mind as anything the conjurer has done. He makes his choice, saving his own life and that of the boy.

But in the scenes that immediately follow he is wracked with grief at the choice he has been forced to make, and in the most painful of those scenes, he forces himself to confess to the woman he loves exactly what he’s done. And though I have read that scene again and again while revising the book, while copyediting it, while proofing it, I cannot get past the moment without choking up. I have had beta readers tell me that the scene reduced them to puddles, which, of course, I love to hear.

For me, a novel’s success or failure turns on character. If through my protagonist I can grab hold of my readers’ hearts, if I can make them grieve and fear and ultimately rejoice as he does, then I’ve succeeded as a storyteller. With this moment in Thieftaker, when Ethan’s pain is as visceral to my readers as any emotion of their own, I’ve done just that. Which is why it’s my Favorite Bit.

D.B. Jackson’s website

D.B. Jackson is also David B. Coe, the award-winning author of a dozen fantasy novels. His first book as D.B. Jackson, volume I of the Thieftaker Chronicles, will be released by Tor Books on July 3. D.B. lives on the Cumberland Plateau with his wife and two teenaged daughters. They’re all smarter and prettier than he is, but they keep him around because he makes a mean vegetarian fajita. When he’s not writing he likes to hike, play guitar, and stalk the perfect image with his camera.

My Favorite Bit: Aliette de Bodard talks about Obsidian and Blood

When so many writers are still playing with Europe as the field for their fantasy, Aliette de Bodard heads straight for the Aztec empire.  Her fiction is exciting because it is both familiar and strange.

And here’s another thing to make you crazy. She’s writing in a second language. Aliette grew up speaking French, because, well, she lives in France. I think that is part of what lends her use of language such vitality, that she is approaching it from the point of view of someone who loves it for its own sake, rather than someone who grew up with it.

Did I mention that she was nominated for the Campbell award last year? So let’s listen to her Favorite Bit of Obsidian and Blood.



My Favourite Bit of Obsidian and Blood is the monsters.

Obsidian and Blood is an omnibus which collects my entire Aztec noir series of the same name. Set at the height of the Mexica Empire, the books follow the adventures of Acatl, a priest of the Death God who investigates magical crimes. In the world of Obsidian and Blood, Aztec mythology is real: the shedding of blood through penance and sacrifice is the only thing that keeps the sun in the sky, and the earth fertile–not to mention a host of not-entirely-friendly gods appeased.

The books are part epic fantasy, part mysteries: the crimes Acatl investigates have magical ramifications that can have a host of unpleasant consequences, from the anger of gods to the end of the Aztec Empire. Magic plays a large part: spells are cast through the use of hymns and living blood, and sorcerers, priests and other magic users are major players in Aztec politics.

I did a lot of research into Aztec mythology for writing the trilogy. Aside from getting the daily life details right, one of the things I was concerned with was finding what kind of magical threats Acatl could be dealing with. Fortunately, creepy monsters abound in Aztec mythology, and I had no difficulty finding horrible adversaries to make Acatl’s life a misery (yes, I’m a sadist. Only when it comes to my own characters, I swear!). In the first book, Servant of the Underworld, I introduced ahuizotls, who look like cute little otters–that is, except for the clawed hand on their tail, which they use to drag victims to the bottom of lakes, and feast on their eyeballs and fingernails…

But it’s the second book, Harbinger of the Storm, that features my absolute favourites: tzitzimime, or star-demons. The Aztecs believed that the stars were monsters; and that the end of the world would be heralded by their falling to earth and tearing everyone apart. A star-demon isn’t pretty to look at, since they have a skull for a face, a necklace of human hands and hearts–and eyes (or stars, or the faces of other star-demons) at every joint. But the bit that I absolutely love isn’t the horrible aspect. Rather, it’s the symbolism, which goes completely against what people expect of stars. One of the creepiest scenes in Harbinger of the Storm has Acatl racing against the clock to stop an impending star-demon attack: as he runs, he sees the stars fall one by one towards earth. It would be a pretty, romantic scene in most cultures; but here it morphs into something creepy and horrible which totally goes against the grain of the expected.

Darkness descended across the Sacred Precinct as surely as if a cloth had been thrown over the Fifth Sun; for a moment – a bare, agonising moment of stillness – everything hung in silence, and I allowed myself to believe, for a fleeting heartbeat, that Teomitl was right, that Acamapichtli was right and that we would survive this as we had survived everything since the beginning of the Empire.

And then the stars fell.

One by one they streaked towards the Fifth World, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, growing larger and larger, pinpoints of light becoming the eyes of monsters, becoming the joints on skeletal limbs, becoming small specks scattered across the dark-blue skirts of star-demons as they plummeted towards the Great Temple.

I heard screams, but I was already running, elbowing my way through the press of bewildered warriors. I turned briefly to see if Nezahual-tzin was following, but could see nothing but a heaving sea of headdresses and garlands.

Most of the crowd ahead of me was going in the opposite direction, away from the star-demons; and soon it was impossible for me to move at all, pressing against the current. As they flowed around me, I reached out for one of my obsidian knives. I brought it up in a practised gesture, and, rubbing my own warm blood against my forehead, whispered a small invocation to Lord Death. The cold of the underworld spread from the sign, and the press around me grew a little less dense. I pushed and pulled. I had to get there, had to warn Acamapichtli before it was too late, had to…

Faces frozen in grimaces of fear, my elbows connecting with someone’s chest, sending them tumbling to the ground, someone pushing back at me, me, stumbling, catching myself just in time, screams and moans, and the sour, sickly smell of fear mingling with that of blood.

I also have other monsters, of course. Beasts of shadows that tear out human hearts, ghosts that gather to bring supernatural plagues, a deity made up entirely of obsidian shards… But the star-demons are my favourites–they just give a whole new meaning to the sentence “look to the stars”!


Obsidian and Blood:amazon|Barnes and Noble|indiebound


Aliette de Bodard is a Computer Engineer who lives in a Parisian flat with more computers than warm bodies, and two Lovecraftian plants in the process of covering every piece of furniture in the living room with greenish tentacles. Her speculative fiction has appeared in Asimov’s, Clarkesworld, and the Year’s Best Science Fiction, and has garnered her a British Science Fiction Association Award, as well as nominations for the Hugo, Nebula and John Campbell Award for Best New Writer. Her Aztec noir trilogy, Obsidian and Blood, is published by Angry Robot. Visit for more information.

My Favorite Bit: Bradley P. Beaulieu talks about The Straits of Galahesh

I met Brad when we were taking Orson Scott Card’s Literary Bootcamp back in 2005. He was one of the people whose story made me think, “Yep. This guy will have a career,”  because it had really interesting world-building combined with lovely writing.

Behold! I was right. How smug I feel to recognize someone else’s talent.

Like his short story back in the day, he’s created a fascinating and rich world for his novels that feels like something out of Russian folklore, but with windships. Not zeppelins. No, no. These are wooden ships that fly through magic.  But let me get out of the way and have Brad tell you about his Favorite Bit.


My second book, The Straits of Galahesh, was recently released from Night Shade Books. It’s the second book in The Lays of Anuskaya trilogy.

And my favorite bit in the book—is a bridge.

Hey, don’t roll your eyes! Yes, it’s a bridge…

Let me explain. In the book, the eponymous straits bisect the island of Galahesh. The island has been settled for centuries, and although the people of the islands have had the ability to navigate the wind using massive, age-of-sail-styled windships, they have not been able to cross the straits. This is because the ley lines that run through and among the islands are thrown about wildly at the straits. You see, at the straits—that is, because the straitsexist—there is a confluence of currents both in the sea and in the magical lines that allow wind-based travel. It twists the magic the ships need to fly so significantly that they cannot easily cross it, nor, in fact—due to the peculiarities of how the ley lines whorl—go around. Because of this, trade has always been difficult. But the barrier at the straits isn’t all bad. It is also a natural barrier, preventing Anuskaya’s bellicose neighbor, the Empire of Yrstanla, from attacking the islands directly.

As the book opens, a bridge is being built by the Emperor over the straits. The bridge is massive, an undertaking never before thought possible. The reason for its construction isn’t clear to our heroes, but they judge that nothing good can come of it. The bridge itself, known as the Spar, is something that represents a bit of the Anuskaya and a bit of Yrstanla. It has a foothold on both sides of the straits, and that makes it a meeting point between these two powers, a catalyst, if you will. It could lead to increased trade, increased relations… Or it could lead to war, and I loved that as simple a thing as a bridge could not merely represent such things, but directly provide for them.

The other part of it (raising my geek flag a bit here) was that I wanted something grand and cinematic for the book. The cover for the first book, The Winds of Khalakovo, was a beautiful rendering by the amazingly talented Adam Paquette. The cover for Straits went in a new direction to try to “code” better for the epic fantasy fan, but I didn’t know that early on, and I had in my head this beautiful white bridge with churning seas below and tall cliffs to either side, windships above with stately white clouds and blue skies beyond. In my mind’s eye I pictured some of the mesmerizing paintings by Michael Whelan, covers like the ones for The Integral Trees and The Way of Kings and The Memory Sorrow and Thorn trilogy, paintings with such wonderful scale. It helped me to visualize not only the scenes at the Spar, but others where I wanted similar feelings of depth and breadth and height.

I also like that the bridge was not quite complete as the story opened. In fact, in the prologue, its construction had yet to begin. And so the work on the bridge was an analogue for the work I was doing, not merely writing and completing this particular book, the second in a trilogy, but creating a bridge of sorts from Book 1 to Book 3.

The Spar was one of those elements that felt good in its early conception, and, now that the book is done and out in the world, feels larger than the spans that rise above the white waters below and the stone roadway that runs across it. It feels as though it’s connecting many things, both within the book and without, which gives me deep satisfaction.

And that’s why it’s my favorite bit.


STRATA: A story of the Future Suns, available now on the Kindle and Nook.
The Winds of Khalakovo, available now in print, and on the Kindle and Nook.
The Straits of Galahesh, available from AmazonB&N, and Indiebooks.

Bradley P. Beaulieu is the author of The Winds of Khalakovo, the first of three planned books in The Lays of Anuskaya series. In addition to being an L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Award winner, Brad’s stories have appeared in various other publications, including Realms of Fantasy Magazine, Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, Writers of the Future 20, and several anthologies from DAW Books. His story, “In the Eyes of the Empress’s Cat,” was voted a Notable Story of 2006 in the Million Writers Award.

My Favorite Bit: David Brin talks about Existence

David Brin is one of those authors that I probably don’t need to introduce. So let me tell you about the first time I met him. At the Denver WorldCon, I had signed up to do one of the inaugural Strolling With the Stars walks as one of the Stars. I ‘d just won the Campbell and, despite that, was having a severe case of imposter syndrome because the other star was David Brin. He was incredibly generous. I hadn’t sold a novel yet at that point, but he asked me about my fiction and then engaged me in the sort of “What if” discussion that I suspect he must go through when writing.

I shall always be grateful to him for his kindness that morning and for giving me a peek at his process. And now, he’s going to give you a peek as well by talking about his Favorite Bit of his newest novel, Existence.


Before I tell you about my “favorite bit” from the new novel EXISTENCE (June 2012:, I’d like to offer an aside — one piece of advice that I give students of writing.

Whatever their favorite genres, I recommend that new authors make their first major project a murder mystery.

The reason is simple.  All other genres let the author get away with flaws in plotting and suspense, by distracting the reader with genre-specific  razzle-dazzle, e.g. romantic tears or dying dragons or scifi tech-speak. But in a murder mystery, there is only one question; did the dramatic, whodunit revelation pay off?  Was it simultaneously both surprising and well foreshadowed?

Does the reader experience a pleasurable moment of self-loathing? “It was all there but I just missed figuring it out! I’m sooooo stoooopid!”If that’s how your reader feels, at that crucial moment, then she or he will buy your next book. That’s the wonderful, ironic fact.

I always try to have one or more suspense arcs in my novels — sometimes half a dozen, running in parallel. And I also circulate my manuscripts-in-progress to up to fifty harsh pre-readers, as quality control, before ever letting the publisher’s editors see it.  Achieving that special “aha!” moment is the one thing I fret over, above all else.

Which brings us to my “favorite bit” from EXISTENCE. In fact, there are several such moments and all have been fine-tuned to wreak maximum sado-masochistic tension and release from the customer. But one of them stands out.  It occurs when a diverse team of investigators are interrogating an “alien artifact” in order to determine whether its passengers — virtual beings who claim to carry a message for Earth — are for real, or an elaborate hoax.  And, if they are truly alien, how much of their message to believe. This process of peeling away layer after layer of deception and truth makes up one major theme.

My favorite moment… and that of more than a dozen pre-readers… comes when a Russian member of the commission has a sudden epiphany.“My God, I don’t believe it.!  It’s a…”

And no.  I will not finish that sentence here.  Nor did I give it away in the fancy-schmancy lavish premier-trailer that renowned web artist Patrick Farley made for EXISTENCE. ( )  A gorgeous 3-minute taste of the book that doesn’t give away any major spoilers, nor will I do so here.

But I’ve explained WHY it is my favorite bit. And why I always tell myself — even plunging into the heart of the sun or a distant galaxy — to write a mystery whodunit! And to make the surprised reader shout:

“Dammit, I shoulda seen that coming, it’s soooo obvious!”


Existence amazon|barnes&noble|indiebound


David Brin is a scientist, technology speaker, and author.  His new novel from Tor Books is Existence.   A film by Kevin Costner was based on The Postman.  His fifteen novels, including New York Times Bestsellers, have been translated into more than twenty language.   Earth, foreshadowed global warming, cyberwarfare and the world wide web. Davidappears frequently on shows such as Nova and is in demand as a speaker about future trends. His non-fiction book — The Transparent Society: Will Technology Make Us Choose Between Freedom and Privacy? — won the Freedom of Speech Award of the American Library Association.

My Favorite Bit: Alethea Kontis talks about The Wonderland Alphabet

Alethea Kontis is one of my first writing friends. Anyone who knows her, knows that she is funny, enthusiastic, and incredibly generous. She pretty much set the tone for my introduction to fandom and the SF community. She’s continuing to set the tone for an introduction to the world of the fantastic with her children’s books. Here’s Alethea to talk about The Wonderland Alphabet: Alice’s Adventures Through the ABCs and What She Found There





C is for Contrarywise

My favorite bit about The Wonderland Alphabet: Alice’s Adventures Through the ABCs and What She Found There is not that I get to work with (and sit at tables with, and get interviewed with, and sign books beside, and plan new projects with) one of my dearest friends: Janet K. Lee.

That should be my favorite bit. Indeed, it takes a very close second.

The Wonderland Alphabet wasn’t originally meant to be a real book at all; it was a way for Janet to hang on to her coveted spot in the inaugural Nashville art show Proto Pulp: Classic Books of the Future when she realized that a non-disclosure agreement prevented her from displaying original pieces of the graphic novel on which she was currently working (Return of the Dapper Men). She was going through an Alice in Wonderland phase at the time; I had just sold AlphaOops: H is for Halloween. We worked in the same office building.

“There’s never been an Alice in Wonderland alphabet book,” Janet said to me.

Like a rabbit with a pocket watch, one was decidedly overdue.

I went home and pulled Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There off my shelf. I wrote the alphabet down the left hand side of a notebook page, just I had done with the AlphaOops books, and noted every possible word for every possible letter. Some letters had only one word. Some had plenty. Some had none (X, Z), and for those I used a little imagination. I gave the list to Janet, who circled (where applicable) the objects that called to her illustrative genius.

And then came poetry.

I started writing sometime between the ages of eight and ten. But it was not prose; I was a poet. My favorite books when I was very young (4-5) were Gelett Burgess’s Goop Tales. Shortly after that came Mother Goose, Dr. Seuss, and my beloved Ogden Nash. Sometime around middle school, my little sister discovered Shel Silverstein. And my parents took us to Shakespeare plays every summer, or whenever we could find them. Like the fairy tales, the work of these poets was often very dark but always very clever.

So very, very me.

Because this Wonderland Alphabet project was only for Janet (and the tiny white cards that accompanied her artwork in the show), I didn’t give a fig about making my verse perfect and palatable. I wrote the poems because they were FUN…and yes, I giggled a lot while doing it. (10 points for spotting the Shakespeare reference. 100 if you catch the far more subtle Ogden Nash homage.) Janet had an equally amusing time with the illustrations, posting each one on her Facebook wall as she finished. The first annual Proto Pulp show was a smashing success.

And then Return of the Dapper Men won the Eisner Award for Best New Graphic Novel.

“What else do you have?” the eager publisher asked Janet.

“Well, my friend Alethea and I did an Alice in Wonderland alphabet book a while back,” Janet replied. “She’s a New York Times bestselling author now, you know.”

Thus and Thence, The Wonderland Alphabet: Alice’s Adventures Through the ABCs and What She Found There came to be.

And they didn’t change my poetry at all. Not one blessed, subversive word.

THAT is my favorite bit.

[The Wonderland Alphabet is rated E: For Everyone. The book contains content suitable for readers of all ages. It may contain minimal violence.]

Even at 5 years old, Alethea knew what paradise was.

RELEVANT LINKSAlethea Kontis’s website and Janet Lee’s website

The Wonderland Alphabet: Alice’s Adventures Through the ABCs and What She Found Thereamazon|barnes and noble|indiebound


Eisner Award-winning artist Janet Lee lives in Nashville, the Wonderland of the South, and loves to drink tea with rabbits when she can.

Alethea Kontis is a New York Times bestselling Fairy Tale Princess.


My Favorite Bit: Sean Williams talks about Troubletwisters: The Monster

Welcome to the inaugural post of a new feature here called, “My Favorite Bit.” This is a series of guest posts in which I ask authors and other creative types to talk about their favorite bit of their newest work. Sometimes it will be a scene, a sentence, a character, or a bit of world-building. It might even be a piece of research that never made it on the page. The key is that it’s something that they love LOVE sooooo much.

For my first guest, we have Sean Williams in to talk about his latest collaboration with Garth Nix. I met Sean at a World Fantasy convention years ago, but have had the pleasure the last couple of years of serving on the board of SFWA with him. He’s our current overseas regional director and has done a darn fine job in that position.

As a writer though, he’s the kind of guy who makes the rest of us feel like we’re slacking. He’s only two years older than me and has written thirty-five novels. Thirty-five. And he wins awards, major awards, with these.

But now, I’m going to get out of the way and let Sean tell you about his Favorite Bit of  Troubletwisters Book 2: The Monster


Collaborations are fun. I think so, anyway. With the right person. They’d be pretty horrific with the wrong person–like a marriage, I guess, although I wish in no way to imply that I have anything but professional feelings for either of my collaborators, Shane Dix and Garth Nix. (The same might not be said for Caprica Six, were she available. Or real.) Just friendship in spades, which is where these things start. Writing can be a lonely game, and so is touring; why not engineer things so sometimes you have company along the way?

My latest novel is the second in a five-book middle-grade fantasy series Garth and I have been working on for several years, now. Troubletwisters: The Monster is the follow-up to Troubletwisters: The Magic, which emerged from long discussions in bars, at cons, waiting in airports, etc, about writing together (several possible stories, such as a contemporary thriller, a monster movie, even a romantic comedy, have been shelved, but perhaps only temporarily). Trying kids’ books seemed a bit of a no-brainer in the end, since we both love reading them and we’ve both written many of our own. It was just a matter of agreeing on what these particular ones would be about, and then writing them. Continue reading ›

Introducing a new feature: My Favorite Bit

One of my favorite things when I’m talking to authors and artists is listening to them geek out about their favorite bit of their own work. It’s usually something small that they put in to amuse themselves, or that they worked really hard on but don’t expect anyone to notice. You can hear the sheer glee in their voices when they talk about it.

I love that peek behind the curtain.

So, I’ve started a new feature on my website where I invite authors, artists, and other creators to talk about their favorite bit of their newest work. This can be a scene, a sentence, a character, or a bit of world-building. It can even be a piece of research that never made it on the page. The key is that it’s something that they love LOVE sooooo much.

These posts are a chance for you to peek backstage and see what makes an author go to their happy place. In a lot of ways, the things that my guests will be talking about are why we write to begin with.

And now… without further ado, hop on over to My Favorite Bit.

For those authors, artists, puppeteers, or other creators interested in participating, I have an FAQ for you about My Favorite Bit.