So the group got together and created a little surprise for me.

What is the significance of the Golden Chobo, you ask? Well, when you combine a bunch of smart-ass writers and certain fantasy tropes, say, the Golden Child, and a novel with “scary hoboes,” as one member put it, you get the Golden Chobo.

The significance of the crow and the tiara with the word “malcra” on it will be clear when you read the book, and it is one step closer to fruition.

Thanks guys for pertinent, thoughtful critiques, some truly dreadful puns (that would be Fred, who in the picture below is holding a postcard for Space Squid magazine), and good laughs. My books would never be as good as they are without your insightful comments.

Janus, god of beginnings. *

Welcome to 2011!

Here’s my horoscope for the year:

AQUARIUS (Jan. 20-Feb. 17)
Opportunities to make a name for yourself abound through the first six months of 2011. The backup arrives Jan. 15 when Mars marches into your sign adding authority to personal communications. (Know it’s there, but don’t overdo it!) Make a highly important decision when the fateful new moon touches down Feb. 2 and expect to see its culmination Aug. 13 when the eclipsed full moon explodes in your sign.

Okay, you heard it here first. A name, Martian communications, a highly important decision, and a culmination. Sounds like it’s gonna be quite a year!

The lovely thing about blogs is that I can go back and check this in 2012 and see how it all comes out.

2010 was quite a year. I wrote a novel, sold another novel, traveled to England and met friends old and new, suffered a crisis of confidence, regained said confidence, journeyed to the underworld (well, Carlsbad Caverns) and returned to the light. I relearned how to ride a horse over fences. The family got a puppy (and anyone who has ever had a puppy knows that this is incredibly life-changing).

For 2011, I’m looking forward to shepherding The Unexpected Miss Bennet into publication, going to conventions, finishing the editing and polishing of the third Gordath Wood novel (soon to be revealing potential titles, with perhaps some help from my readers), and starting the next book in the series.

There will also be changes to the blog, as the new year brings so many changes to my life and career.  Stay tuned, and as always, friend Gordath Wood on Facebook to show you care.

Welcome to the New Year! What are your plans?

*Janus image copyright Marco Prins and Jona Lendering of livius.org

Here’s another tidbit (without giving too much away):

Kate sat down in Lady Terrick’s private office, facing her, Torvan, and Maksin. Her stomach clenched and she tried to stay calm. The little package in her pocket was a guilty lump.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, she said to Lady Terrick. I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
Lady Terrick looked tired and worn out, but she smiled kindly at Kate.
“Kett, child, it’s just that – as a foster daughter of Terrick, you are just as if you were one of our children. And what you do is as important to our family as it is to yours. If Colar–when Colar was in your home, I’m sure your parents were as concerned for his reputation as we are for yours. ”
Oh shit. Samar must have looked in the package. But then, why the hell were Torvan and Maksin here, glowering at her with suspicious triumph? Kate struggled for calm, even as she felt her face redden, just proving her guilt. If only I knew what I’m guilty of.
” Lady Terrick, if I’ve offended anyone or done anything wrong, it was by accident, I promise,” she said, striving to keep her voice from shaking.
” How did you know Yare was to be found at the river?” Maksin growled.      Kate stared at him, confused.
” What? ”
” How could you have known about the river? How did you know Yare would be there? ”
” Thani said that she saw Kate and the young heir come home from a ride, and both of them were quite damp, ” Torvan put in. He threw a glance at Kate and added slyly, “Thani said that the girl’s hair was wet and covered to hide it. She touched her clothes later to make sure, and her outlandish clothes were damp though the girl changed into more modest clothing ever since. ”
Thani had gone into her room and felt her clothes. That bitch. Kate burned with rage. That stupid little bitch. When I am Lady Terrick she’ll be scrubbing floors in the outhouse.
” I couldn’t figure out how the girl could have ridden straight to where those men were, Lady,” Maksin said, back to harping on Kate’s other sin. “She knew about the river, and she must have known the men would be there. She was in league with them, ma’am. That’s the only way she could have known. ”
Torvan threw him an angry look. “She knew about the river because she and the young lord went a-trysting there.”
Kate laughed out loud and brought both hands to her mouth to hold it back. “Lady Terrick,” she said, and for the first time a wobble entered her voice. She focused on Colar’s mother. “Ma’am, you know that’s not true. ”
Lady Terrick lifted a tired hand. “I know, child. Of course. But you see, householders are talking, and no one knows how you found Yare so quickly. As for the other, I suppose that was, well, Colar should have known better, although I wonder at your upbringing, child… ”
” She is bringing down the reputation of this House with her lewdness and unbecoming manners ” Torvan said. ” And just now, where was she? In the pasture with the crow ”
“I helped him walk two of the horses to the village for shoeing,” Kate cried.
” And how did she know the boy was there!” Maksin put in, almost whining.
This time Lady Terrick help up both hands to simmer them all down. “Kett, please tell us. How did you know? ”
Kate felt herself pale. She licked her lips. ” Lady Terrick, it was a guess. I thought of all the places Yare might hide, the swimming hole would be likely. There’s a rope swing, so I knew the kids played there. That’s all. A lucky guess. ”
” A lucky guess,” Torvan sneered.
” Only the soldier’s god gives that kind of luck,” said Maksin.
Lady Terrick pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right. Torvan and Maksin, back to your duties. Kett – please see to Eri. She’s missed you all day and has pined for you. ”
The men stood and bowed, and Kate curtsied, still awkward. As they pushed their way past her, Torvan turned and threw her a malicious glance. When they were gone, Kate tried one more time.
” Ma’am, ” she said, a catch in her voice.
” Go now, child. Eri waits. ”

That was one of the points the panel made. You can really explore a lot of tough themes in YA, and the genre is often blurred between what is YA and what is adult fiction.

My reading was well attended. Alexis Glynn Latner read before me and her audience stayed, which was sweet and I brought in a few more, so the hometown crowd was good to me. I read from book III, starting with the tidbit on the website and then from a few pages in. I think people enjoyed it and I had fun reading. I may have gotten over my stage fright. I used to finish readings quaking with reaction from having held it together for a whole 30 minutes. Five minutes to go and my voice would start to quiver and the lines on the page would blur.

I also had the opportunity to hear a few other readings. Adrian Simmons read from a short story set in the world of his Bronze Age fantasy, and it totally rocked. Alexis read from her new book with a lovely alternate history of the West and an interesting magic system, although I would have loved for the women to have math magic and not sensitive, creative magic. You know, just turn the gender roles on their heads a bit.

Like, wouldn’t it be cool if mathematical formula could be used not just in engineering but be the stuff of engineering itself? So you would design the bridge and behold, you would create the bridge?

William Ledbetter read from his Mars mystery. I love Mars stories. I’ve decided when I’m old that I want to go to Mars and die there.

Yeah, okay, moving on.

So the rest of the con was friends, chatting, art show, dealer’s room, and going out to Chez Zee. I stayed at the hotel on Saturday night, and I was glad I did. It was great not to have to drive home late that night.

All in all, a good convention. Everyone I know will be at Fencon later this month, but I want to keep my momentum with GWIII, so I will stay here and write.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Well, I’m here. It’s not so bad, and I don’t want you to worry, even though I guess you will. The Terricks are taking good care of me. Mrs. Terrick is nice. I like her. She showed me how to spin on a spindle the other day. I know, mom, but it’s important here. I think it’s called housewifery? I remember that from one of my social studies classes. It’s not physics, but running a big house like this one takes a lot of work.

Kate paused to rub her fingers. They were smudged with ink. She dipped the quill pen and began again.

Mr. Terrick is just like I remember him. Gruff and kind of forbidding. He reminds me of that judge that you introduced me to at the Christmas party last year? But he means well, and he’s kind of nice. He even –

She stopped. Would her parents understand when she wrote “He even smiled at me this morning”? She couldn’t cross anything out. She knew they would worry over the crossouts and what she didn’t tell them. Look, she told herself, it’s not like they’re really going to read this. In a week or two, she wouldn’t even be able to read it, once her brain reset from crossing the gordath.

Just tell them the truth.

He even smiled at me this morning.

Colar has two brothers, Aevin and Yare, and a little sister, Erinye. He had another sister, but she died, he said of a fever. He said it was probably something we could have cured back home. That’s so sad, isn’t it? That’s why I plan to become a doctor in Aeritan. Aren’t you proud of me? Haha. I know, you always wanted me to be a doctor.

She put in a smiley face and continued.

Aevin is okay, except he is constantly trying to prove himself and it gets tiring. Yare’s a little pain in the butt, and Eri’s a sweetie. We share a room and I look after her.

Kate paused again, thinking about that. It seemed to help Lady Terrick that she was there to make sure Eri was dressed and clean and had someone to keep her company at her chores. She didn’t mind doing it, and had stepped up without being asked, but now that it was expected, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She didn’t know how to put any of that in the letter, so she carried on.

I want you to know how much I love you and miss you. I’m in good hands, okay? I’ll write as often as I can, and maybe someday, you can read these letters.

Love,

Kate

Her vision blurred and she sat back so that she wouldn’t let a teardrop fall on the paper. She strewed sand across the paper and blew on it, then set the paper aside so the ink would dry. Kate blinked back tears as the door opened behind her and Eri came in.

“Kett, mama said it’s time for dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

She got up, sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve. Eri watched her seriously.

“I’m sorry you’re sad, Kett.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I know.”

Eri came over and took her by the hand. She looked at the letter on the thick, coarse paper, cocking her head sideways the way she did when she was absorbed in something. The lamplight cast her delicate face in shadow so the child looked like a Renaissance subject in her kerchief and simple dress.

“Is that writing?”

“It is.”

“How can you read it?”

“I’ve only been here for a half-month,” Kate said. “Soon, I won’t be able to read it. It fades away after a while, and then I can read and write in Aeritan.”

Which made the whole exercise moot, she thought, because at the point that she couldn’t read and write in English, her parents wouldn’t be able to read what she wrote next.

She squeezed Eri’s hand.

“Let’s go. I’m hungry and I don’t want to keep your mom and dad waiting.”

Eri giggled. “You’re funny, Kate.”

“I’m funny! You’re the funny one, you silly kid you.”

Eri laughed louder and they teased each other on the way down the stairs.

#

Kate thought the great stone house looked like a dragon. It was draped across the landscape, its jagged walls and towers like the backbone and winged joints of the mythical beast. The main part of the house was a rough square, its narrow windows facing the road that led away toward the rest of Aeritan.

She and Colar had ridden up that avenue when she brought him back to Terrick two weeks before.

The stables and outbuildings were scattered to the rear of the dragon, its tail as it were. Allegra and Hotshot were stabled there, and Kate made a point of visiting her horses daily and making sure they were well taken care of. She knew enough not to fret; To a Terrick, it was a point of honor to care well for horses and hounds.

She thought she knew about a Terrick’s honor before but now, living under their roof and by their code, she knew she didn’t understand it at all.

Kate and Erinye slipped into the dining room. The family stood by their chairs at the shining table. Lord Terrick would arrive last, per custom. There were Aevin and Yare on the left, Colar at his father’s right hand. Lady Terrick sat at the foot, and there were two empty chairs for Eri and Kate. Even that stinker Yare sits higher than I do, Kate thought.

It shouldn’t have mattered. She knew who she was and her own value, and all the ingrained sexism of her strange world couldn’t change that. It grated though. Maybe that was in her expression, because Colar caught her eye and shook his head slightly. She gave him a half smile, half-grimace, and stood next to Lady Terrick, Eri on the opposite side. As it happened, she stood next to Yare.

“You’re late,” he told her. “And Eri’s face is smudged. Mama!”

You rotten little brat, Kate thought. She flushed. She had forgotten, again, to make sure Eri was kept clean and presentable. The little girl looked as beautiful as always, but to be sure there was a smudge on her cheek and her simple smock was awry.

“Sorry –” Kate began, but Lady Terrick made a gesture.

“Goodness, child, it’s not the end of the world. Eri is old enough to make herself presentable. Are you not, Eri? Try not to disappoint your father, as he loves you very much.”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Eri said in a small voice.

Kate’s stomach clenched. No wonder I’ve lost weight; every dinner is like this. The terror of obligation to one’s parents, their honor, and above all their love permeated all things Terrick, even a simple dinner.

Lord Terrick entered the room, bringing the smell of outdoors with him. His eyes flicked down the table and back. Kate’s back stiffened, and she thought even Lady Terrick’s did. To her relief he didn’t cast a particular grim eye over Eri. Saved by the lack of electricity, she thought. The dining room was illuminated with plenty of oil lamps but was still dim.

“By the grace of the high god who holds us all in his hand, we are blessed with food and shelter,” Lord Terrick said. He sat, and they followed suit.

The meal was simple yet hearty; spiced lamb, flatbreads, stewed greens and tubers, like potatoes. Every bite tasted like sawdust. Kate chewed diligently and without savor. She had learned to eat with just a spoon and a knife. Her first dinner at Terrick, she had made a joke to Colar about inventing forks. She thought he would laugh. She thought he would accept her offering of their shared history. It was, she thought, meant as an us against them moment. Instead, he looked at her seriously and said that she would get used to a knife and spoon, just like he had gotten used to forks.

Not us against them at all, she thought. She hadn’t gotten it at the time, but she came to understand that it was him with them. Him with his family. Me against them.

It will be different when we marry, she thought. She washed down an impossibly tiny bite with an even smaller sip of Terrick brandy, which tasted like mouthwash and she loathed. As always it made her break out into a sweat, even the polite taste she had taken. She concentrated fiercely on her dinner, not even trying to catch Colar’s eye. She had tried that on their second dinner, hoping to get a smile from him, only to have Yare shout, “Mama! She’s making eyes at Colar!”

Her face flamed at the memory, or maybe that was the brandy.

Lord Terrick was going around the table, asking everyone their business. When he got to Eri, his eyes narrowed and Kate held her breath, but he said only, “Erinye, have you practiced your letters today?”

“No, lord father,” Eri said in a small, frightened voice.

“I see,” Lord Terrick said. “Perhaps you had better things to do than improve your mind?”

Yare made a derisive noise, then jumped in his seat, by which Kate thought that Aevin had kicked him under the table. Good, she thought at the boy.

“I–I” Eri started.

Lord Terrick waited politely, and when it was clear that he had silenced his daughter into frightened immobility, he turned to Kate.

“Perhaps our foster daughter can help you, Erinye. Kate’s knowledge and understanding impressed us all last year. You learned to read and write with Talios, among your lessons as his apprentice, did you not?”

“Ye – yes, sir, I did.” Kate winced inwardly at her own stumble. “I would be happy to help Eri with reading and writing, and math too.”

“Math! Learned indeed. Erinye, how would you like to be Kett’s pupil?”

Eri beamed with relief and Kate smiled back at her.

“So it’s decided then.” He turned toward his wife, but Kate interrupted.

“Lord Terrick, it’s just that I can’t just yet.”

He turned back to her. The entire table fell silent. Kate took a deep breath. “I can’t read yet in Aeritan. Yet. I’ll be able to in a few weeks, but it takes a while.”

Lord Terrick’s expression was unfathomable. Kate hurried on. “Same thing happened for Colar, actually. Right?”

She turned to Colar. Help me, she beseeched him silently.

“It’s true,” he said, and she sighed with relief. “But,” he frowned. “It didn’t take me that long – a half-month?”

“Yes,” and now she was babbling. “Longer even, because you were in the hospital, and it wasn’t until you were out and at home that we even began to try to read and write, remember? We started with Catcher in the Rye, because you were going to need it for freshman English…”

Her voice faded. Lord and Lady Terrick were looking at the both of them, as if they couldn’t understand what was happening. Yare had an expression of evil glee, and Aevin just looked shocked.

“Catcher in the Rye,” Colar repeated, as if the memory wasn’t a pleasant one. She had to admit, he had a point.

“When you can, then,” Lord Terrick said finally. “Math,” he added in a considering voice. “Perhaps you should also teach Yare.”

Kate and Yare looked at each other in equal disgust.

“Of course,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, lord father,” Yare said, but she could tell by the gleam in his eye that he had no intention of obeying. Great, she thought. And it’ll be my fault if he doesn’t learn a thing.

Harder was saying good-bye to the family. She had bowed to Lord and Lady Terrick, giving thanks for their hospitality as coldly as she knew how. She thought at first that they would ask her to stay, would apologize to her, would beg to let them make it up to her. Instead, they merely nodded as if she was a stranger they had given mere traveler’s aid to.

To Aevin she held out her hand and he clasped it, as if they were comrades, and flushed earnestly.

“Be good, Aevin,” she told him. “You are a good soldier – I would want you on my side in any battle.”

He tried to scoff – what girl would he ever be in battle with?– but she could tell he was pleased.

Yare she high-fived, which he loved, and then she caught him for a hug. While he howled and struggled, she tickled him, and when she let him go, he was laughing.

“Stay out of trouble, okay, scamp?”

He stuck his tongue out at her, and as if he couldn’t stand it anymore, he darted off. Well, if he went to ride Allegra, that was Mitain’s problem now.

She faced Erinya last. The little girl hung back by her mother, tears welling. Kate went to her knees and held out her arms, and Eri flung herself at her.

“Don’t go, Kett, please don’t go!” she sobbed. Kate hugged her and shushed her.

“Eri, you are learning how to read, right?” Eri nodded, rubbing snot and tears into Kate’s cloak. “When I get settled, I’ll write to you and tell you everything that is happening to me. It’ll be as if you’re right there. I’ll send my letter so that it comes to Erinya Terrick, at Terrick House, Terrick, Aeritan. It won’t even need a ZIP code, it will fly right to you. And you can write to me, because by then I’ll have my own address too.”

Eri sniffled and looked up at her. “But Kett. You don’t have a House.”

Kate smiled. “Not yet, Eri, but I will.”

The five brothers had prepared for their own journey, their horses more expertly packed. She carried little compared to them, but she squared her shoulders. She had plenty of money to pay her way, not that she was going to tell them that. Not if they were crows. And anyway, you idiot, there’s nothing from stopping them from knocking you on the head the first night. Or…doing other things.

But she didn’t think they would, not even Balafray, strange, frightening Balafray. Not Adhar.

The morning was overcast and the air was wet, threatening a late season snow. The road was thick with mud, and it was already well over Hotshot’s fetlocks. She hoped Eldar’s shoeing would hold.

When she was in the war camp, her very first day, she had asserted her right to exist by walking up to the ostlers and demanding her place at their campfire, sharing their food. With the same bravado, she walked up to the brothers. They turned to look at Adhar and then at her, then Adhar again. He looked her and Hotshot over.

“Good. You packed light.” He threw her two sacks tied in the middle. She caught them with an oof–they were heavy, filled with grain for the horses. She draped them over Hotshot’s withers, securing them to the D rings at the front of the saddle.

That was all that was said. Without a word, they all mounted up and headed down the road, its tall elms slightly dusted with green, away from Terrick and the life she had thought was hers.

#

Winter came early to Trieve and spring came late. The highland House was deep in the grip of the cold, and drowsed under the darkness and the stars. On clear nights the aurora danced, a flaming crown for the grass god, the god of death and rebirth. Crae never tired of watching it. He saw the aurora rarely in his homeland of Wessen, for it was too far south, and never when he was captain in the forest holding of Red Gold Bridge. Damned forest, he remembered now, wrapped in his cloak and heavy furs, staring up at the sky. Everything so close together, so that a man couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him for the underbrush.

The Trieve sky was big, the way a sky should be. Here, at the top of the hill that rose up over the house like a protective spirit, Crae could see the headlands of the great river that was still iced over. It threaded its way along to the south, and led to Brythern and to the sea.

The wind blew incessantly, sharp and biting despite his wool and fur, and he knew he’d have to go soon. He liked to walk up here when the weather was clear, because the hill gave him the best view of the land. It made it even better when he went back home, back to the warmth of his hearth and to his family.

The cold finally drove him back down the hill, past the cairn of the crow, crusted over with snow and hardly recognizable as anything more than one of the many weathered rocks on the top of the hill. His eyes watered as he made his way down the slick trail, made more difficult by his lame leg. Crae managed with his stick and was sweating by the time he got inside, closing the door to the house behind him with a heave of relief.

Jessamy was sitting at her desk in the great hall, a small fire merrily blazing away, and a pot of vesh steaming at her side. She looked up from her papers as he came in, and he could tell at once something was wrong.

“What is it?” he said sharply, stumping his way over to her.

She threw the papers at him and he caught them one handed against his chest, crumpling them in his haste.

“Favor,” she said sharply. “I’m such a fool, Crae. I should have seen it at once. Terrick is after Favor.”

I added a prologue to GWIII and brought it to my writer’s group for their perusal. Here’s what I heard: “lacks urgency.” “Needs to start earlier at a more crucial moment.” “Characters aren’t engaged.” And my favorite — “It’s a fat guy eating whilst looking at a map.”

Fred, he of the last comment, brought three books with prologues and read from them. Two failed. They conveyed no useful information and were static. The third, from The Lies of Locke Lamora, worked (no surprise). There was action, conflict, and crucial information, and as the prologue took place years before the rest of the book, it was rightly a prologue that introduced Locke to the reader and to his world.

The thing about the prologue is, I’m not sure I want it or need it. I know there has to be some connection to our world but I’m not sure this is it. I know I want a framing device around the main story, but I’m not sure this is it either. So for now, I’ve taken that prologue out. I may try again with something different.

In general I don’t approve of prologues anyway, and this might be a case of forcing myself to do something I don’t want to do and that’s why it doesn’t work.

Frisbee and me

I should have taken a before picture, because he was pretty slathered with mud, but I got most of it off of him. Then I let him graze for a while on the new grass and he was completely content to do so.

He made friends with Ben, who gave him a peppermint, which Frisbee really enjoyed. Ben was wondering if Frisbee would remember him the next time he came to visit, and I told him that horses could be surprising in that way and he just might.

I couldn’t ride today, even though as you can see it was a gorgeous day. Hopefully Tuesday will be as nice a day and I can get some riding time in before Aggiecon. (Speaking of which, preliminary programming is complete and it’s looking pretty good.)

Side note: I just finished 1,600 words today, so GWIII is really coming along!

“It is a comforting belief among much of society, that a plain girl with a small fortune must have no more interest in matrimony than matrimony has in her.”
That is the opening of my novel, The Unexpected Miss Bennet. You can read the first chapter on my Amazon page (scroll down after the GWIII excerpt — Amazon doesn’t hyperlink blog titles, apparently).

Well, it is off to the agent today. Keep your fingers crossed!This is a huge step for many reasons, but the biggest is that this is the first non-Gordath novel to head out the door ever and honestly, who knows what will happen?

Publishing is weird. I want to write all different kinds of books, but the publishing industry has a hard time dealing with an author who doesn’t stick to their tried and true. But I don’t want to just write in the Gordath-verse, although I enjoy it when I’m there. (Yes, I know I was ready to close the door on it last year after I turned in Red Gold Bridge, but the portal has a way of sneaking up on you and demanding to be opened.)

I want to write the Holy Grail of romances, the Regency. I want to write space opera. I want to write a Halo novel. (What? That’s weird?) I want to have a new fantasy series creep out of my subconscious with new characters who speak to me when I should be doing industry analysis from census data. (If my boss is reading this — just kidding!)

So I can see how publishing would find it hard to keep up. So here’s the thing. I’m going to keep writing them. I’ll excerpt them on the website, and maybe start a podcast or two. If publishing wants them, they’ll let me know. If you want one, I can figure out a way to get it to you. Just say the word.

In the meantime, The Unexpected Miss Bennet is off to the agent. Let the adventures begin.

From there flows the Aeritan River, and the lands arrayed out from it. There are the Temia foothills (but the foothills to what mountains?) and the many lands of Shay and Salt, Camrin and Favor. Wessen, where Lady Sarita is from.

But the map is unfinished, barely roughed out. What is on the edges of Aeritan? Besides Brythern, what are the other countries? The oceans? The people? Does this world have the same variety in people and cultures as ours does? I give tantalizing hints only, because I don’t know.

It’s not good for an author not to know. We should always know more than our readers, even if we don’t tell you everything. (Research and worldbuilding should be invisible.)  Especially if we don’t tell you everything.

So with the third book, my lack of knowledge about Aeritan is starting to wear on me. The rough map isn’t a good enough guide to the world in my head.

I need a new map so I can hint at stories that I know but that aren’t part of this story. I need to give the reader a sense that the world goes on when the book is closed. The best modern example I can give of that is Charles Coleman Finlay‘s Democracy of Trolls, which first appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction and later was expanded into a novel. In the novella, there’s one scene that expands the simple story into a small part of a greater whole. I had such a feeling of depth, as if I was peering through a keyhole at a huge tapestry, with a sense of a greater world behind the door.

I knew at once that Finlay knew everything he needed to about his world, and chose to tell us only this story, at this time.

That’s what I want. There are a thousand tales of Aeritan waiting to be told. I just need a map of the world so I can get to them.