Authors Electric

In the UK we tend to be very preoccupied with the weather. Which may seem strange, when we are not a country of great extremes. A few snowflakes are a talking point, and rain is a disaster when a cricket match is in jeopardy. The old joke about what to do in a drought; a lot of men in white walk onto a field, the shaman tosses a coin, and it starts to rain. We did have a real heatwave last summer, but we weren’t prepared for it and few houses have air conditioning. It’s just not needed normally – open the window for a bit. Of course, you may well need the central heating on instead for a day or two in August. We get fog, but not that often, we get ice, but not that often either. Which is why it is such a shock when we travel abroad and find out how well they cope with such disasters as a couple of centimetres of snow, or a bit of wind. The public transport elsewhere always seems to function. If a bus is two minutes late in Tromsø , up in the Arctic, people look at their watches, shake ...

A very happy Christmas Day to a ll our re aders! And a Prosperous New Year to come!  Here's what I've been working on, in the run-up to Christmas... This is what I've been slaving over a graphics programme to produce. A new cover for Ghost Song.           The blurb on the back reads: At white midnight, in the endless midsummer of the far North, Kuzma the bear-shaman demands a new-born baby boy from his father, the slave and hunter, Malyuta.      Steadfastly, throughout the long summer night, Malyuta refuses.      The powerful shaman, thwarted, leaves at last.      Malyuta names his adored son 'Ambrosi' or 'Immortal.' But, as Ambrosi grows, the villagers begin to fear him.      The bear-shaman still walks in Ambrosi's dreams and still calls him...            The old cover looked like this:-        ...

'Ghost Dance' by Susan Price.  Cover by Andrew Price           'Outside the circle, where the candlelight edged into darkness, two figures stood in talk, a man and a devil.            The man… (says the cat) was Master Richard Jenkins, an Englishman and a wizard.           The devil was a red and furry devil, its fur rippling in the candlelight like red velvet. Its tail had an arrow's point on the end, and was long, and coiled and bounced like a spring as the devil moved. Its head was fearsome, large and round with staring, glittering eyes and ram's horns; and all around its head and shoulders hung a shimmering red mist.           'Are you listening to me?' said Master Jenkins to the devil… 'Take off the head when I talk to you!'          The devil… wrenched...