The Hollowing has just been accepted by one of my publishers. I won't announce which one yet, till the contract is safely in their hands once more, but it's easy to guess - they're the same onew who are publishing Gilded Folly.
I finished Of Dragons, and am now working on Glass Works. In Flames is under consideration, as are BloodWorks and Relic. I need to begin thinking about publishers for Of Dragons, BoneSong and Gray Beginnings. I've been thinking about sending Gray Beginnings to the same publisher who's just contracted The Hollowing, and I also want to send Light Play there as it becomes available.
In Trysts is going to be available in paperback soon, as will Gilded Folly. Very exciting!
Went on an archaeology field trip to a dormant volcano yesterday to map a kumara storage pit - great stuff!
I'll leave you with an excerpt - from Crystals:
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He first noticed it as a dimming of the intense darkness, a trace of less-than-black, and wondered if he was imagining it. Soon, though, a bluish cast became more apparent, and he could detect stars—stars and squiggles decorating the high ceiling of the cave; each a small effort to push back the black void. To Trev, the effect resembled a soft blue rendition of his home world’s Milky Way—sharing the same lack of definition, but undoubtedly lighting up the distal spaces. Trevor wondered at the source—whether these emanations were from living creatures, or rocks with special phosphorescent qualities.
Trevor appreciated the beauty of the scene, but his eyes demanded more clarity. It was the same feeling of frustration he often had when trying to view the Milky Way—his eyes wanted to bring it into better focus; to lessen the vagueness that distance wrought. His next action was almost instinctive; a product of the dark, frustration, insecurity in their mission, and for want of something to channel his nervous energy. He summoned a part of his being that had shown itself to have some control over animals in his own world, and placed his energy into what was now a recognisable thought pattern—a particular emotional stance. He loosed it on the small entities in the cave, if entities, indeed, they were. The result was almost instantaneous, and—to Trevor’s mind—gratifying. The blue lights flared, intensity and numbers both increasing multifold as others of their kind who had been quiescently dark flared to life. The small group halted, and the cave was bright enough for Trevor to see the others now. Thyme shot a quick question at Gyris, who grunted and indicated his head in Trevor’s direction. Thyme remarked, “Playing with lights again, Bonehead?”
“Just tinkering.” It was Trevor’s turn to sound smug. “Just don’t forget how you did it, Sieve Brain. This is one of your rare talents that may be considered useful.”
The repetitious moist dripping was its own form of water torture. Trevor was actually pleased when the sound of moving water was lost in a cadence of chanting: rumbling, monotonous, repetitious. The texture of the rock beneath their feet also changed, becoming firm, smooth, and less fragmented, which led Trevor to suspect that the former roughness owed more to years of mining, rather than to any natural formation.
A dull glow broke the darkness ahead, and Trevor released his hold on the blue ceiling dwellers. Gyris’ steps were quiet now, aided as much by the terrain as by any conscious effort, and the human was glad to get his first glimpse of the Valners while their attention was focused elsewhere.
Entering a massive cavern, domed with enormous gypsum-like crystals that emitted subdued light, Trevor was astounded at the size of the famed Valners. He’d somehow thought of them as small miners—hardy, perhaps stunted by years of subterranean living; tiny enough to take advantage of narrow shafts in the rock. This was not the case. None of the Valners present at this ceremony—for such it obviously was—was less than two metres in height, and many of them topped three. Save for the dense fur on their feet, which Trevor guessed was important to their ramblings through the sharply pointed stones that littered their workspace, the Valners were hairless, with milky white skin. Albinos, the human thought. Save for the eyes. Valner eyes were enormous, saucer-like, and dark as an unlit cavern. Valner bodies were strange to Trevor’s eyes. True, they had legs, and feet, but they also boasted appendages that would put human limbs to shame in a challenge of dexterity and strength. Like humans, a single “arm” sprouted from each side of their tall forms, but their flexibility more closely resembled that of an octopus or squid. The long, unjointed appendages writhed and coiled; constantly in motion, even as the Valners concentrated on this important religious ceremony. The three fingers at the tips of these arms were arranged triangularly, and Trevor’s eyes were drawn to the way the ceremonial leader used these fingers to manipulate a spiny opalescent crystal, that was apparently at the core of this ritual.
Trevor was surprised that the Valners seemed unaware of their presence. True, for once his own small group was making an effort at discretion, but the Valners didn’t even glance in their direction. Surely, if they can heal, they must be capable of enough sensitivity to recognise we’re here, Trevor thought.
Thyme, seeing his curious expression, explained it to him. “This is one of their most important religious ceremonies,” he said. “‘The Cleaving of the Crystal’, in which they fragment that rock into smaller, more easily usable, parts.” Trevor looked at the dainty narrowed spike that the religious leader was moving with great precision, making signs that must have special meaning to the people watching. “He’s going to break that big hunk of rock with that small spike?”
“Not break—cleave. Crystals will generally maintain the same form, if they are pure. He’s merely cleaving it into similar, but smaller, components.” Trevor nodded in understanding. “A similar thing happens in our world. Diamonds are one of the hardest substances, yet they can be ‘cut’ for rings by taking advantage of the crystalline faces.” He smiled, thinking of the money some people paid for, and the way they hoarded, diamond jewellery. “Diamonds have a near-religious significance for some people in our world, too,” he commented. He indicated the glitzy stone at the centre of the ceremony. “Is that a healing crystal?” he asked reverently.
“Yes, Human, and even a small piece of it would be enough to restore Peter—in the right hands, of course.”
“How’re we going to do this, Thyme?” Trevor asked. “Is there any way one of us could sneak up there and snatch a piece—once he’s finished cleaving it—while they’re still in this trancelike state? Maybe Qualice—?” he suggested. The gnome looked at Trevor in horror. He chattered excitedly, shaking his small head, before taking a firm grip on Cliso’s tail, while she coiled around him in support. She hissed at Trevor, leaving him in no doubt of her feelings on the subject. Trevor raised his hands, “Sorry, Qualice, Cliso. It’s just that Qualice is so swift and deft with his hands,” he said placatingly, remembering how Qualice had deftly removed both his belongings from his pockets, and his food from his plate.
“No, Trevor. We have a better plan.” Thyme smiled, and Trevor suddenly realised how pleasant the fairy was being to him. He instantly became wary. Thyme reminded him of a book he’d once read: Sybil, about a woman with multiple personalities. And I never know which one is speaking to me, Trevor thought. He spared a moment to think of Mari, with Lily to protect her, wondering if Lily also had unknown personalities lurking within. Shaking his head at the idea, he tried to figure out the best method for wresting a confession out of a fairy who, all too obviously, wanted to keep him ignorant.
“What plan is that, Thyme?” he asked with an attempt at a friendly return, but then spoiled it by adding rather acerbically, “And why wasn’t I told?”
Thyme’s jolly attitude was almost enough to make Trevor turn around and run. But there was Peter to consider, and the necessity of hurrying their venture to return to Mari and Katy.
“I can’t tell you here,” Thyme said dramatically, as though the Valners were listening. “I’ll fill you in on the whole thing later—when we’re alone,” he said in a stage whisper.
Oh, no, Trevor thought. He’s up to something. And whatever it is, he doesn’t want me to know about it. Thyme is doing devious, and apparently, the devious starts with me.