Vikings? This Far Up?

There now follow a few apologies.

I apologise for the fact that many people have been saying “where the blinking flip is Blood Pact?” Also, I apologise that the promised follow-up YouTube interviews with me have yet to materialise. Oh, and that I haven’t blogged in a dog’s age. And also, that I went to Canada and never thanked the Canadians.

There’s really no excuse for any of this, but here’s one anyway.

I’ve been busy. I have been busier, by quite a margin, than I ever anticipated being in this particular part of 2009. I have been really fething busy. I’m not complaining, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, but - oh my god! - it hasn’t left any time for the basics, like blogging, or keeping up with Facebook, or doing informal YouTube interviews, or speaking to other members of the household, or remembering to wash. Oh, and apparently Michael Jackson died. Who knew?

I can’t promise that this is me getting back on track, but a blog here, and Facebook there and maybe, in the next week or so, a few interview-casts, and we might be up to speed.

For the time being.

Blood Pact is done, and I’m really pleased with it. It’s nothing like Only In Death, but that’s the point. If Only In Death is a big climactic last stand, then Blood Pact is a far more valedictory event. With added tight, crunching, blood-soaked action. It’s much more like an espionage novel, The Khorne Identity, if you will. It’s very character-driven, and, if you’re a long time Ghost reader, I think you’ll get a kick out of seeing favourite characters in unfamiliar or unusual roles.

Now, Canada. Thank you, Canada. Thank you for having me. It was brief, but it was great. It was a total blast. I met a large number of very nice people, who seemed genuinely pleased to meet me and talk to me. I signed a lot of books. It was a three-Sharpie Games Day. I think that says it all. And you’ve got to love a country that brews great beer, serves humus and crudities at a Games Day, and uses as an ad-line for its national carrier “ninety-five percent of fatalities on Canada’s roads are caused by moose: aren’t you glad you’re flying?” Thank you, Canada. I look forward to coming back. I hope my next Games Day trip is as enjoyable. (Germany, in August... They’re not going to have any trouble with the ‘great beer’ part at least, are they?).

Just a thought: I wonder if there are any statistics for the percentage of air-crash fatalities in Canada that are caused by moose. I mean, you’d want diagrams, wouldn’t you?

So, now, as the temperature pushes into the thirties, the cats are flaked out like discarded draught-excluders wishing their fur coats were un-zippable, and Roddick and Federer fight it out to the bitter end, I’m girding my loins for the next big project. Yes, folks, it’s Prospero Burns (Mongomery’s less-well known brother).

Stop me if you’ve heard this, but, originally, I was going to tackle the Thousand Sons side of the deal, and Graham was going to handle the Space Wolves. The reason for this - and I really do understand that the following revelation is such a heretical statement that Eisenhorn might have to come and shoot me through the lungs - is that I don’t really like Space Wolves.

All right. Stop yelling. Stop it. Stop. I KNOW, okay? I know. Let me explain. I think the Space Wolves are great. They are a great, vivid, visceral element of 40K, great to play, great to collect. But for use in fiction they are, to me, too on the nose. They too obviously resemble the source of their inspiration. Think of it this way: I could write a novel about a chapter of space marines, who originated on a tough, unforgiving world of high plains and grassy savannahs. The chief way of life was as drovers, driving the million-animal herds of gigantic, and often very dangerous, grox across continents. This work bred men who were tough, weather-beaten and wily, relentless, dogmatic, reflective, but mercurially fast. They evolved quick wits and cunning, and quick reflexes, but they could also sit in the saddle for days, biding their time. They were almost empathically connected to their loyal steeds. They knew how to chase, hunt, defend the herd, bring down a big bull. And the very toughest and most promising of these drovers were selected by the mysterious warriors, who lived in their isolated fort on the isolated mountain, to be inducted into their ancient order of space marines.

Sounds pretty reasonable, doesn’t it? Sounds like a decent basis for a chapter, right?

Now what if I said the chapter was called the Six Shooters? And that their armour design included chaps, a bandana and a ten gallon hat? Oh, and spurs? And they were famous for their trademark ‘two-bolt-gun’ holsters?

You see what I mean?

The inspiration is fine. The Thousand Sons are Aztecs. The Blood Angels are goth vampires. The Imperial Fists are Romans. The White Scars are a mongol horde. The Iron Hands are robots. The Ultramarines (and, hell yeah, the Iron Snakes) are Greeks. The fact is that all of them have taken the point of inspiration and run with it. They’ve put the background idea through some kind of creative filter to make it both richer and less obvious. But the Space Wolves are exactly what they appear to be, with no filter and no remove, which makes them giant fun on the gaming table, and a giant pain in the arse in a novel.

So anyway... I finally suggested to Graham that I should take the Space Wolves, because it would force me to find a way into them. I’ve already seen the work he’s doing on the Sons, and, oh my god, it’s mouth-watering. His book, which will be called A Thousands Sons (one of those instances where the legion name is so good, you don’t need to invent a better book title), is going to be packed with great ideas. We’re knocking stuff back and forth, and a momentum is building. For my part, I’m filling my workspace with all things Norse and Viking, and Icelandic and barbarian. You wouldn’t believe the sources I’m going to. I want the Space Wolves to be ABSOLUTELY the Space Wolves all of you out there love, AND YET something you’re not expecting; something that’s gone through a filter; something that makes you all go “Christ in a longboat! I have never thought of them like that!”

Tomorrow, I may buy a bearded axe. If not tomorrow, then sometime this week. I kid you not. Sometimes, physically handling a key prop is the best way to unlock an idea. And I’ve already checked that the Rochester Armoury (that fine institution that, long time readers may remember, sold me a pilum on Good Friday), has something Danish and two-handed in my size.

More on the subject of axes and space vikings in coming weeks, I’m sure. In the meantime, I’m writing a David Tennant, Dr Who adventure for BBC Audio (all kinds of fun!), and the War Of Kings cosmic event for Marvel is getting serious praise. Other than that, it’s very warm and very quiet. I think the Hussar may have evaporated in the heat or taken to apporting in the cupboard under the stairs, where it’s dark and cool.

Oh, Federer just won. Longest men’s singles final in Wimbledubblybum history: fact.

Finally, some recommendations. The new album from White Denim is simply brilliant. The true crime book The Monster of Florence by Douglas Preston is fascinating and unbearably gripping, and I recommend it to anyone who’s ever enjoyed anything with Hannibal Lector in it. The film Role Models, while in no way perfect, really REALLY tickled my funny bone. I guess that says a lot about my adolescent mind-set, though it also says a lot about my nerd-hood too. Role Models is surprisingly warm and celebratory of the concept of larping.

Forty years ago this month, America put a man on the moon. I remember it, though it didn’t seem a big deal at the time (I was four, after all). It was such a big deal. If you haven’t already been moved or inspired by the anniversary documentaries or books or articles, then go and buy a book like Moon Shot or A Man On The Moon, and stun yourself silly with details that are funny, strange, unexpected, intrepid and often insane. Remind yourself what it actually meant. For example, NASA didn’t think to fit an outside door handle on the hatch of the lunar module. If Buzz Aldrin had pulled the hatch shut behind him when he bounced down to follow Armstrong onto the surface, they wouldn’t have been able to get back in... at all... and history would have commemorated an altogether different, and more harrowing, story.

Buzz Aldrin was called Buzz because his little sisters, when they were kids, couldn’t pronounce the word ‘brother’. They said ‘buzzer’. “To infinity and beyond!” is a wonderful aspiration. “To infinity and then back home again alive!” is rather more rational.

Toronto Bash

I’m busy as a very busy thing on National Let’s Be Extra Busy Day, but there are a couple or three things I just wanted to mention. The first is Games Day Canada in Toronto this Saturday (already?!?), and I’m looking forward to seeing you there, though I acknowledge that Toronto may be a long way for some of you to come unless you’re Canadian.

Because of Toronto and the other busy things (see above), my next round of You Tube ramblings has been slightly delayed. My apologies. I will gather up all the questions put forward both here and on Facebook and get on with it as soon as I’m back. This, of course, means there is still time to get extra questions in. Feel free.

Finally, a big slap on the back recommendation for fantasyhotlist.blogspot.com, which I suggest you check out. Pat’s Fantasy Hotlist is one of the best genre blogs online, and has the added bonus just now of offering signed copies of the sexy new Ravenor Omnibus for five lucky winners. Go on, you know you want to.

Questions, questions.

Last weekend, I spent time with Adelie High, recording some stuff to camera, where I rambled on about what I do, and answered a few questions sent in via the internet. It seemed to go well. The results, 6 short films, are now up on YouTube. Just go there and put my name into the search engine. A variety of subjects is covered, including the off-cuts and outtakes.

As this dry run was successful, we intend to delve deeper, and we'd like to give you more warning so that you can ask questions. Post them here... Anything you'd like to ask me. Post them up by next Friday night (29th May), and we'll try to include them next weekend when we sit down again. Adelie is quite quick at cutting, so you can expect the next batch of clips by the following week.

Over to you.

Illuminations

To GWs Manchester and Liverpool, I want to belatedly record what a fun time I had at both of your stores. Thank you for throwing on the events at such short notice, and huge thanks to the readers and acolytes who turned out in force to meet with me. For the record, my trip to Blackpool was as sublime as last year: Lily acquitted herself splendidly in the formation teams of the ballroom, and I drew ever closer to the core of an idea that Blackpool is the setting for the most significant and troubling novel of my career.

Back home, I am working hard to produce Marvel’s Cosmic scripts on a week by week basis, while I finish up the slaughterhouse that is Blood Pact. Every time I finish a chapter, I feel I need to be hosed down. It’s wet work. I’m not sure who’s going to survive on either side. Novels like this scare me. The characters are in charge.

In the meantime, I got up at 6am and drove to Nottingham, yesterday, and sat in Bugman’s with Nick Kyme and the mighty Graham McNeill. When it comes to Graham McNeill, I think it’s obligatory for everyone to preface his name with an italic “mighty”. Graham is one of the few creatives I’ve had the pleasure of coming into contact with who can match my ideas and raise me. Not only did we thrash out some amazing things for Prospero Burns/Thousand Sons, but we came up with a transcendent idea for what we are all calling “The Dark Ages” of the Horus Heresy. This was so cool, it simply took our mutual breath away.

Of course, you’re all going to have to just wait and see, and wait and see, even for Prospero Burns. I am Space Wolves up the YingYang. There are two things I can promise you: You have never seen Space Wolves like this, and, these will be the mothers and fathers of all Space Wolves. Nik’s scared: she doesn’t get Space Wolves, and she doesn’t get what all the fuss is about. It’s going to get nasty, and it may never get nice again.

It’s getting windy here, and the rain has started. I’ve been seeing the Hussar a lot these last few weeks: in the summer house, and in the kitchen, in the corner of my eye. The fact that we’ve bought a porcelain effigy of him at an antiques fair, doesn’t seem to have slowed him down. I sometimes hear his footsteps, his breathing, his keys dropping onto the floor. I think I am better off with him than without him.

To conclude this evening, a joke:
Last night I dreamt I was in the middle of the Lord of the Rings. When I woke up, Nik said, “You were Tolkien in your sleep, again.”

Try the veal. Remember your waitress.

Nik, in Dan's absence

This is just to say that Dan Abnett and Nik Vincent are now TWITTERING as VincentAbnett. Trivia concerning underbed overhangs, the Hussar and swine flu over the cuckoo's nest, not to mention Czacza Gaborgia will appear their, in brief. Check us out. Pun-hunters especially welcome.

In all other matters, normal service will be restored shortly...

Free Comic Book Day..

... is this coming Saturday, May 2nd, and to honour it, I will be at Videosyncratic on the Cowley Road in Oxford, along with Simon Davis (Sinister Dexter and so much else), Richard Elson (Marauder and, of course, Kingdom) and 2000AD’s Tharg the Mighty, Matt Smith, in a 2000AD-themed Free Comic Book Day event! Be there or... or... we’ll be lonely! It all starts at 1.00pm! It’ll be great! I may even use another exclamation mark! Look, I did!

Manimal Abnettism...

... as I said, just the other day. Yes, sometimes I make no sense, even to me.
Black Library Live! went live last Saturday, and a properly fabulous event it was too. I gather it was enough of a resounding success for there to be more in future, so I heartily encourage all of you who didn’t attend to attend next time.
It was a busy and lively event, with lots of signings, talks, readings and seminars, plus games (set up in the marvelous surroundings of Warhammer World) based on settings and characters from the books. In fact, the bustle and energy felt like a good Games Day, but it was still small enough to be informal and fun. There was enough time to talk, to take some time to answer questions and wander off the point and, of course, everything was Black Library specific.
There was a great turn out by BL writers: the mighty Graham, the equally mighty Jim Swallow, the just-as-mighty-as-all-the-other-mighty-ones Sandy Mitchell, Neil “Mister Horus Covers” Roberts, Nick Kyme (wearing his BL editor AND his superstar author hats), Aaron, Richard... yeah, it was great. It was fantastic to be able to preview a couple of chapters of Blood Pact (us BL authors haven’t had the opportunity to do readings since Games Day shifted out of the NIA - the acoustics in the NEC just won’t allow it), and Graham tells me he also really relished the chance of doing a reading. Most of my afternoon was taken up with the serious signing event - me, Graham and Neil in a signing trifecta that lasted almost three hours. It was simply fabby to see Xhalax and Matthew C (where was Big?) plus a lot of other folks who’ve become very welcome and familiar faces from signings these last few years. I think, in the end, what really made it for me was noticing that the BL staff the (Mark, Christian, Nick, Caroline, Mal, Rik, George and the rest - thanks for giving up your Easter Saturday, guys!) were having such a good time. They all had smiles on their faces. They were all really happy with the way things seemed to be going. It was NOT a miserable afternoon spent working on a weekend. I took this as real proof of the event’s success. The only downside, it seemed, was that Anita found it unbearably warm (Anita? Graham? I secretly think Sawney’s an excellent name, BTW).
In summary, if you weren’t there you should have been, and you should make fething sure you’re there next time. If you were there... wasn’t it just a whole heap of good fun?
And so to Manchester and Liverpool next weekend. I’ll be bringing a hunka Blood Pact in case there’s an opportunity for some reading. I’ll be signing. I‘ll be chatty. I’ll be open to your questions, comments and suggestions (ahem - within reason). I’ll be windswept and interesting. Will you be there? Check out the previous blog entry and the BL site for specific timings and details.
So, things you should be doing. You should be reading Matt Farrer’s excellent blog, for starters. It’s a quiet piece of genius. You should be reading [Marvel’s cosmic event written by yours truly and Mister Lanning] War of Kings, because, well, it’s frickin’ excellent is what it is. Buy it for Paul Pelletier’s art alone. The man is touched by the proper spark of comic-stuff, the incandescent material that suffused Kirby, Buscema and Romita Senior.
And you should also be reading... me. It’s just been announced (so, therefore, I can talk about it) that I’ve signed a three book deal with Angry Robot, the new Harper Collins imprint. I will be interleaving these books - original Dan Abnett novels, accept no imitations! - in between my BL commitments (he added hastily, before all the Gaunt fans hyperventilated and collapsed in a swoon). Up first, this autumn, will be Triumff, a swashbuckling tale set on an alternate Earth where the Elizabethan Age never ended and the Industrial Revolution rediscovered magic. Our eponymous hero Rupert Triumff kicks ass and takes names in a lusty yet ill-advised effort to halt a conspiracy to kill her royal majesty Queen Elizabeth XXX.
Trust me, it will be either:
the funniest piece of adventure you’ve ever read, or,
the most adventuresome piece of funny you’ve ever read.

After that, in 2010, brace yourself for Embedded, an extremely hard-edged piece of combat SF that I think you’ll REALLY like.

So I guess that makes me Mister Busy, doesn’t it?