The new New World Order

In January 2011 I got one of those emails every author likes to get from time to time, from a fan saying how much he liked The New World Order, my deliberately Turtledovian take on the English Civil War.*

Oh, and he was John Wakefield, Head of Speech Broadcasting at University Radio York, and would I mind if he adapted it as a radio drama?

Hmm, decisions, decisions. One of those things for which you really need to go on a long walk, indulge in a couple of cold showers, maybe sign up for a meditation course to put you into the right frame of mind for weighing up the pros and cons … Okay, it took about 1.5ms to say yes. Rather, yes in principle, but sadly you ought to be asking the rights department of Random House, not me.

Which he did, and they said yes, and everything went quiet for a while … until now. Part 1 will be broadcast this Sunday, 11th November, by URY and part 2 on the 18th. That means it won’t be heard on the air outside the university campus, but as far as I can tell from their website, it’s streamed. Just saying.

I’ve had the pleasure of a preview of both parts and it is excellent. I find it hard to believe these are fresh-faced students. It has a specially composed score and a cast of tens. It was odd to hear someone else’s interpretation of what a Holekhor accent ought to sound like, and I always imagined Oliver Cromwell as sounding like Bernard Matthews, and sadly my dream cast of Russell Crowe, Kate O’Mara and Philip Madoc (in his War Chief role) were unavailable and in one case dead – but against that are some pitch perfect performances. I must single out the actor playing Prince/King Charles who manages exactly the right mixture of affability and spite, plus a suitably wobbly adolescent voice in the first half. My hero Daniel is cleverly played as both a 12 year old and a 17 year old by the same actor. And I was carried away by the sound effects, not least the adrenaline pumping excitement of an airship taking off – all clanging bells and shouted orders and roaring engines.

Some of the dialogue seems to be mine – which is nice, as it suggests I can actually write it – and some is revised for the purposes of the show with no discernible join, which is as it should be. A couple of scenes here and there are condensed or elided but again you can’t tell if you don’t know. I wondered if they would assay the epilogue, which describes real events in both our world and the world of the Holekhor and makes it obvious (to us) exactly who they are, but that bit was omitted – probably for the best.

It’s a shame it’s a one-off performance; I hope John and the rest of the team can use it in a portfolio for a future career. I wish them every well-deserved success.

(* Summary: dimension-hopping technologically advanced Neanderthals return from whence their ancestors disappeared to thousands of years ago and interrupt the events of 1645.)

Covers!

Clarion Publishing has unveiled the covers for next year’s re-publication of His Majesty’s Starship and Jeapes Japes

JeapesJapesCoverBenJeapes 250x400 First Look: His Majestys Starship, and Jeapes Japes cover artwork HMSSCoverBenJeapes 250x400 First Look: His Majestys Starship, and Jeapes Japes cover artwork

Both excellent pieces of artwork by Dominic Harman. Tell me they aren’t nice!

I’m especially pleased with the cover for HMSS, which (I think) was once an Interzone cover … or was it … well, wherever it was that I first saw it, it’s stuck in my mind and I’m delighted we get to use it. As for resemblance to contents, ahem, well, the book has spaceships. And planets.

The cover for Japes is pretty nifty too, though I’ll be the first to admit that resemblance to contents is … um. Whatever comes below ‘minimal’ ‘Zero’? But that is made up for by the nice use of Star Wars-ish font, and more to the point, it’s my book.

More of the same, but different

“More of the same” is one of the more pejorative things you can say about a follow-up book, but sometimes – and especially with sequels – that is the whole point. But there is little more disheartening than the same old same old – and that’s to write, never mind to read.

When I was writing the Vampire Plagues, I was very pleased with myself for setting a Book 2 scene in our heroes’ living room. In Book 1 we had seen the basement, and the study, and the hallway, and a bedroom. Creating a whole new room to a house is a pretty basic achievement but it made it more interesting to me as the author and I hope to the readers too. It marginally expanded the world in which the kids operated. It added a little more detail and verisimilitude.

Then in chapter 2 they were off to Paris to fight vampires, and they never returned to that house again. At least, not in the books that I wrote.

Now I’m trying to come up with Phoenicia 2 and am faced with the added problem of technological change. Phoenicia’s Worlds is set a couple of centuries hence so we’ve already had a hefty dose of New Stuff. Phoenicia 2 is a few centuries after that. I’m not a hardline believer in the Singularity – it is quite possible for technological development to slow down, stagnate or even go backwards – but some things must have changed. I can’t just re-use the old concepts. I have to develop them, but not so much that it’s not the same universe anymore.

This morning I was writing a chapter set on a space station, built on a captured asteroid in orbit around a planet. A space station with a similar function – a port of entry – has featured prominently in Phoenicia’s Worlds. How to make this station the same, but different?

Then I remembered that in Phoenicia’s Worlds they haven’t got around to inventing artificial gravity except by the time honoured centrifugal method. Who’s to say that … ?

So anyway. A space station with the same basic function but an entirely different look and feel. It’s on an asteroid. With artificial gravity it can have an atmosphere. You can walk about outside, and see a horizon that curves down instead of up. You can look up and see the mother world above you. It’s all different, I tell you, but it’s the same too. The reader – at least those who have also read the first book – will immediately see that some time has passed. Think of someone sailing into Portsmouth 200 years ago, and doing the same today. They would certainly recognise it. The Isle of Wight would still be on their left, the sea forts would still guard the entrance to the Solent – but my, isn’t it big! And how do all these boats move about with no sail? And what’s that big building shaped like a spinnaker?

And all this for a single setting that I don’t intend to revisit in any further chapters. It is hard work. This is craftsmanship, this is. Trust me.