I loved the cover art for my third Pathfinder novel, Beyond the Pool of Stars, since I saw it in rough sketch form. I learned just the other week that estimable artist Tyler Jacobson, creator of said art, is one of the finalists for this year’s Chesley award for that very cover! Pretty cool!
Good luck, Tyler!
The days have marched on at their steady pace. I’m still struggling with insomnia of a different sort than I usually have. This is the more traditional kind, meaning that no matter how tired I am, my mind races for hours, and if I should jolt awake at night I can’t get back to sleep. I’m still trying to find the best solutions to the problem. I’ve had some better writing days, but no truly good ones, and today I’m going to hunker down and get some work done around the house. Maybe some honest-to-God manual labor will help wear me out even more so I can feel more sleepy.
Still, I got some changes made to the first novel and turned back over to my editor. There are more changes I want to make, many of which were suggested by Ian Tregillis, John O’Neill, or my wife, and I also need to get to starting the next draft of the second book.
Spurred by renewed talk about the historical swashbuckler Captain Alatriste I’ve been working my way through it, although I got sidelined when my daughter started reading the Everest expedition/disaster memoir Into Thin Air. I started reading it myself and got hooked, then read another similar volume about more recent climbing season, Dark Summit. I’m not sure why, but I’m occasionally interested in reading about mountain climbing, probably in part because I can’t imagine ever doing it myself.
I have an interesting looking e-book by an up-and-coming sword-and-sorcery writer I’ve been meaning to start, and I’ll probably tackle that next.
Apart from the month following my mom’s heart attack this has been the worst impediment to my writing since I became a professional. Progress in the last ten days has slowed nearly to a crawl. I can exist, but putting words down in any kind of clever way has felt more and more like a vertical climb.
I’m taking some medical action now under physician advice and hope soon that I can return to my usual work pace.
I think my absence last week was the longest I’ve had from the blog. I mean, even when I went to Europe with the family last year I had posts programmed to go up. Admittedly they were pretty dull and dealt mostly with choosing the perfect writing notebook, but at least something was happening here.
I didn’t post because I didn’t want to discuss the terrible events in Orlando. It was enough to read about the attack and talk about it with my family. I didn’t want to do that here. Yet talking about anything else at the time just seemed frivolous. So I simply walked away from the blog for a while.
The old saying goes that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, which is a nice sentiment and all, but doesn’t usually hold water as far as actual books. Yes, occasionally a great book is hiding behind a terrible illustration, but more often, as my first born Darian says, “it turns out that no.” A bad cover might mean the publisher either didn’t have their act together or didn’t believe enough in the product to bother hiring a good artist.
Or it might mean that the novel isn’t marketed for you… or that it was marketed in another time.
A case in point is this great adventure novel from the 1950s by the writing team of Wade & Miller. They’re one of my favorites from Chris Hocking’s pulp list, and I hope to go into detail about them later this year. But judging from that cover, which suggests some kind of romance with a hot dame and a brooding lunk, I’d never have picked it up. Read More
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