A switch from blue to red… I think this book poses the biggest challenge to a cover artist. It’s not easy to convey the mix of fairy tale and period horror and to showcase the importance of the setting to the story. This one is evocative without being explicit and it looks great.

Here’s new cover #2. It works beautifully with The Night Inside and I love the colours. Though I admit to being a sucker for anything blue…

I just got back from a trip to Italy (to get my travel legs back and see art and eat delicious food – update to come) and discovered that pre-orders are now available for all four novels in their new Open Road Media editions. Release date is July 9, 2024. Pre-orders are important in the publishing world, so if you’re interested, now’s the time to go to any of the usual suspects (Amazon, Apple, B&N, Kobo, etc) and place your order.

Because the covers are too pretty to show all at once, I’m going to post one a day. First up: THE NIGHT INSIDE. The original cover is so beautiful that it set the template for all the other versions. The designers wisely chose to simply give the concept a modern, clear update and I think it looks gorgeous.

Here’s the best of what I read in the first three months of this year. Sadly, the ‘to read’ list gets no shorter.

FICTION

The Buccaneers, Edith Wharton. The Wharton-fest continues (I’m currently working on The House of Mirth). This edition just has the actual Wharton text, without the later happy ending. And yes, I did watch the Apple TV miniseries and enjoyed it for what it was.

Mrs. Bridge, Evan McConnell. This one came out of having read the author’s book on General Custer last year. I did not expect to love this book as much as I did, given that it has no fantastical element at all, and instead consists of vignettes, images, conversations and short chapters about the life of a family in mid-1900s America. But it’s brilliant.

The Grace of Wild Things, Heather Fawcett. Anne of Green Gables with magic. An enjoyable middle grade novel by the author of Emily’s Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Fairies.

Three Eight One, Aliya Whiteley. A future scholar finds a text written in 2024 and tries to determine it’s veracity and meaning. An interesting mix of fantasy, sf, and technical challenge.

Menewood, Nicola Griffith. The long-awaited sequel to Hild, and worth the wait. Beautiful, immersive, exciting, and brutal by turns.

Nettle & Bone, T. Kingfisher. The first book I’ve read by this author and it’s a winner (of the Hugo, no less). I quickly devoured her shorter work What Moves the Dead as well.

Nights of Plague, Orhan Pamuk. Sprawling fiction about an island that’s part of the fading Ottoman empire, complete with plague, plots, love stories, corrupt politicians, princesses, and more.

NON-FICTION

On Looking: A Walker’s Guide to the Art of Observation, Alexandra Horowitz. I listened to this as an audiobook, which was the perfect way to absorb the observations of various experts as they wander the streets of New York, noticing trees, rocks, fonts, and more. The best bit was when the naturalist was describing a squirrel’s nest just as I looked up to see a squirrel entering exactly that above me.

The Kingdom, The Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in the age of Extremism, Tim Alberta. This was very hard to read, both for the threats it outlined and for the genuine faith of the author (not being religious myself, this made me somewhat uncomfortable). But it’s well worth it, because the threat is just as genuine.

Sandy Hook: An American Tragedy and The Battle for Truth, Elizabeth Williamson. This one was also hard to read. It reflects the terrible grief of the parents and the horrifying choice by certain actors (Alex Jones, who is utterly loathsome) to exploit and commodify the tragedy.

Things are moving along towards the reissue of the four novels from Open Road Media. I’ve seen both the covers (gorgeous, once the top hat is gone!) and the promotional ‘jacket copy’ (is that what you call it when there are no jackets?).

It’s always fascinating to see how different artists approach the covers. I’ve been fortunate to have some amazing covers (the first three by the same artist, Stuart Knox). I’m not hung up the cover being ‘realistic’ (some of my favourite books have hideous covers that qualify that way) but focus on whether the vibe is right. Does the cover ‘feel’ like the book? And, of course, will it look good on a computer/ipad/phone screen, since that’s how readers will be buying it now?

I’m happy to say the new covers fit the bill. The Night Inside and Blood and Chrysanthemums have the same style, which clearly signals their relationship. The first one is actually very close to both existing versions of the cover (original Penguin paperback and CZP ebook reissue). Cold Hillside is visually arresting, even if the details (hair, clothes) aren’t accurate. A Terrible Beauty seemed to pose the biggest challenge, but will work with a tweak or two (no hats!). I’m excited to share them when I get the final versions.

I’ve finished the first round of serious line editing on the Witch Novel and now I need to buckle down and make the more serious changes needed. And maybe think of a name for the damned thing.

In poking around my folder of miscellaneous writing advice, I came across some exercises I did from WONDERBOOK by Jeff Vandermeer. While some of the advice was daunting (because I find almost all advice about plot structures daunting), I loved the illustrations and did many of the exercises. Just for fun, here’s one of the first ones from the book. It’ll give you a flavour of the illustrations designed to spark your imagination.

“I’m not sure about the polka dots,” Frederick said. His arms were crossed, his hand over his mouth and his neat dark beard.

“Polka dots,” Paulina repeated obediently from her perch on his shoulder.

Athenee spread her fins wider, as if more polka dots would alter his judgement. Frederick stroked his beard and made a non-committal sound.  The giant fish’s mouth was agape, as if laughing. The fish’s body was flat but, strangely, its fins looked more like the wings of a bat, albeit with polka dots.

Ozymandias bobbed his head once or twice, swivelled it around, and hooted as if in approval.

“If they were a more discreet shade of yellow, perhaps?” Athenee suggested.

“I don’t believe it’s a matter of colour,” Frederick said after a moment’s consideration.  “I believe it’s a question of … practicality.”

“I have you to be practical for me.”

“Fish for dinner?” Paulina asked.  She was, as are most parrots, a vegetarian only most of the time and therefore not adverse to a well-cooked bit of salmon.

“The problem is, my dear, that Lady Sitwell’s soiree is not a costume party.  I’m afraid you’ll feel out of place.  I think the blue dress would be much more appropriate.”

She sighed heavily. “Why won’t anyone we know have a costume party?  Why won’t you let me throw one?”

“Because I detest costume parties.  I did warn you about that.”

The belly of the fish parted and Athenee slithered out, letting the costume collapse onto the floor behind her.  Her fur was sweaty, streaked dark along her belly and sharp face.  She swivelled an ear at him and twitched her tail.  “I think it’s rather amusing.  And sooner later, someone will invite us to a costume party and I warn you, I will wear it.”

“I told you, I detest costume parties.”

“Nonsense.  I’ll put an apron on you and you can be a fishmonger.”

“The blue dress,” he said pointedly and she laughed then walked past him on the way to the stairs, already licking a paw to wash her face.

(copyright Nancy Baker)

I survived the comments from Reader #2. Most suggestions are easy to implement or require just a bit of revision. One of the areas requiring major change wasn’t a surprise at all, as I was never sure that it really worked anyway. Lots of positive comments helped, of course, so I wasn’t required to visit the sloughs of despond.

There’s just one sticky bit where I understand where the comment is coming from but I also have no real interest in expanding on one of the elements that might need to change. I’m going to focus on the things I can fix first and then see where things stand.

I’ve cut about 1,700 words just in the “look how many times you used that word!” review. Sometimes the only way to deal with the gross overuse was to ‘throw away the sentence entire’ and this turned out to be surprisingly easy in many places. One of the perils of having writing large chunks of this book during multiple rounds of Nanowrimo, so there is definitely more than a bit of padding that has survived earlier purges. I haven’t gotten ruthless yet – but that will come.

Still not rewriting the sucker from scratch though. Nope.

Another year, another 140 books (or so) books read. Of these, 44% were non-fiction on topics from science to politics to history to biography to (of course) ‘how to write’ books. Because hope springs eternal on that front.

Here’s a quick summary of some of my favourites.

Climate (yes, it’s bad):

Arboreality, by Rebecca Campbell. Interconnected stories about how a B.C. community survives climate change. Winner of the 2023 Ursula K. Leguin Prize for Fiction.

Fire Weather: The Making of A Beast, by Jon Vaillant. The Tiger is one of my favorite books and Vaillant has done it again in this journey into the heart of the Fort McMurray Fire of 2016 and a exploration of how fire has shaped our past and our future.

Shipwrecks:

The Night Ship, by Jess Kidd. Fictionalized version of the aftermath of the wreck of the Batavia in 1629 intertwined with the modern story of a troubled boy on the remote island where the gruesome events played out. After this, I naturally had to read (or listen to)…

Batavia’s Graveyard: The True Story of the Mad Heretic Who Led History’s Bloodiest Mutiny, by Mike Dash.

The Sea (sans shipwrecks):

The Mountain in the Sea, by Ray Nayler. One of my top three books of the year. A dystopic future, greedy corporations, conflicted scientists, and intelligent octopuses.

The Soul of an Octopus, by Sy Montgomery.  One of the books cited by Nayler.  A readable, moving story of one naturalist and the octopuses that she befriended.

Below the Edge of Darkness: A Memoir of Exploring Light and Life in the Deep Sea, by Edith Widder. Science, life, bioluminescence, and more evidence that we should not be destroying the last mysterious biosphere on Earth.

Rediscovered (by me) Brilliance:

The Winged Histories and The White Mosque, by Sofia Samatar. The first book is one of the best things I read this year, hand’s down, no contest. Four viewpoints on a land on the cusp of upheaval, with incredible prose, absolutely control of narrative structure, and if I could ever write a fantasy novel half this good, I’d be so happy. Samatar herself has an unusual background – she’s the daughter of a Swiss-Mennonite and a Somali Muslim, raised in the US – and, in the second book, she explores the equally unlikely tale of a group of German Mennonites who travel from Russia to Central Asia in the nineteenth century. She doesn’t write a lot, but everything she puts out into the world is amazing.

Artists are Assholes (a perennial category):

Monsters, by Claire Dederer.  This expansion of Dederer’s essay “What Do We Do With the Art of Monstrous Men?” looks at her complicated feelings towards artists such as Hemingway, Picasso, Miles Davis, Sylvia Path, and more. Part of my ongoing research for the book I keep trying to write.

Kiki May Ray: Art, Love, and Rivalry in 1920s Paris, by Mark Braude.  A portrait of Kiki de Montparnasse – artist, cabaret star, muse – and the world of artists around her, including Man Ray, Jean Cocteau, Marcel Duchamp and more. And yes, a few ‘monsters’ show up.

Not all Artists

Ways of Seeing, by John Berger.  Late to the party, as always, but I finally read this influential book based on the writer’s 1970s BBC series. 

How to be An Artist, and Art is Life, by Jerry Saltz.  Artist-turned-critic Saltz has useful thoughts about what it means to be an artist (of any sort), how to cope with the good bits and the bad, shares his appraisals of a surprising range of artists, and reveals his own failures and epiphanies.

It Girls (70s division):

Nanaimo Girl, by Prudence Emery.  Small-town BC girl hits 70s London, Hollywood, and many points in between, committed to a life full of adventure, love, and the very best parties.

I Used to be Charming: The Best of Eve Babitz, by Eve Babitz & Molly Lambert.  Hollywood’s Eve: Eve Babitz and the Secret History of L.A. by Lili Anolik.  Eve Babitz chronicled growing up and getting into trouble in 60s and 70s Hollywood with a clever and honest eye, as life took her from hanging out with rock stars to playing chess (naked) with Marcel Duchamp to inadvertently setting herself on fire. A true original.

Series (which I mostly managed to read in one year):

The Poppy War Trilogy, by R.F. Kuang. Though the main character often annoyed me, this series is still a gripping story of war, magic, colonization, and survival.

Castles in Their Bones Series, by Laura Sebastian. The third of these comes out in early 2024 and I’m looking forward to wrapping up this YA series about three young women raised to achieve their mother’s dreams of conquest.

The American Fairy Trilogy, by Sarah Zettel. Dust bowl America and early Hollywood seem underused settings for fantasy (cue all the book recommendations) and I thoroughly enjoyed Zettel’s YA series (which starts with Red Dust Girl) about a young woman caught between warring fairy clans. For another book that looks at the intersection of early Hollywood and the fey, read Nghi Vo’s Siren Queen.

Miss Fisher Series, by Kerry Greenwood. Ok, I’m not even close to finishing this one, but the books are wonderful palate cleansers between grim fantasies and non-fiction books about the Partition of India or rising fascism in the US.

People are People, Past and Present (with some outliers shoved in here):

The Great Partition: The Making of India and Pakistan, by Yasmin Khan. I listen to the EMPIRE podcast by William Dalrymple and Anita Anand and realized I know very little about the Partition (beyond what I saw on Ms. Marvel, of course). This book provides an excellent overview and some definitely grim reading.

Orientalism, by Edward Said. Because I finally got around to reading yet another highly influential book decades after it was published, this one about about the West’s view of ‘the Orient’.

Doppelganger: A Trip into the Mirror World, by Naomi Klein. Klein was used to being confused with Naomi Wolff, whose career was not dissimilar to her own, but when her doppelganger’s views became diametrically opposed to hers, she struggled with how she should respond. This led to a thoughtful exploration of how we view reality in an increasingly digital and divided world.

The Fire is Upon Us: James Baldwin, William F. Buckley, and the Debate over Race in America, by Nicholas Buccola. I’d seen clips from the famous debate between Baldwin and Buckley but not much else. This book provides some background into how both men ended up on that stage and reproduces their speeches in full.

Riverman: An American Odyssey, by Ben McGrath. The author meets a man canoeing down the Hudson and months later receives a call from police in North Carolina who’ve found his card in a wrecked canoe. This sets McGrath on a hunt for the story of Dick Conant, whose unconventional life touched a web of people up and down the rivers of America.

Fiction, Dark and Bright:

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin. Fast-paced, funny, moving – and unsurprisingly optioned for film before it was even published. Made gaming sound interesting to me, which is quite a feat.

Bryony and Roses, by T. Kingfisher. I’m a sucker for a good Beauty and the Beast story (ya think?) and this one was lovely. A grumpy gardener, a baffled beast, and some truly nasty roses. And it was inspired by Robin McKinley’s Rose Daughter, which is another beautiful retelling.

Unraveller, by Frances Hardinge. The prose is gorgeous, the characters are compelling, and the story goes in unexpected, and sometimes tough, directions. All absolutely my jam.

The Custom of the Country, by Edith Wharton. Apparently, Sofia Coppola’s miniseries of this for Apple TV got nixed because “the idea of an unlikeable female lead is not their thing.” Social climber Undine Spragg is definitely unlikeable but the book is funny, satirical, and would probably make a great series.

Dark is Better, by Gemma Files. Because it’s Gemma Files! Ok, full disclosure, Gemma is a friend and writing date partner. She’s also a brilliant, award-winning, ‘name on the cover of the anthology’ horror writer. Read any collection by her and find a whole new set of things to fear.

I’m waiting for some ‘bigger picture’ comments on the Witch Novel so thought I might as well proceed with some ‘easy’ editing. This involves searching the document for weasel words* and my own personal pet words (notably ‘dark’ and ‘pale’. God, I love those words). Weasel words include things like: suddenly, finally, merely, huge, most, small, something, sometimes” etc. My record so far for use is about 140 and I did manage to cut it down to about half that.

With each book, I discover a new pet word. In A TERRIBLE BEAUTY, I used ‘realized’ over 150 times and my copy editor made me hack away at them. In the Witch Novel, the words du jour are “merely” and “quite”. I managed to prune a chunk of each, but sometimes they really are just the word I want to use. I let characters use them in dialogue, so that lets me leave some of them in with a clear conscience.

I still have about 10 words to check for and I’m trying to be strong.

But sometimes, damnit, ‘dark’ is quite perfect and to eliminate it merely because it’s on someone’s list is something I just don’t want to do.

So I don’t.

• thanks to Matt Bell in “REFUSE TO BE DONE” for that term. And no, I’m still not rewriting the novel from scratch.

Wrapped up Nanowrimo for another year and met my goal of 5,000 words. They were 5,000 pretty pathetic words and I suspect that when I start “Glass World Take Four” they will all vanish into the electronic ether, but c’est la vie. Words were typed! Goals were met! The world moves on.