The Blacktongue Thief

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As I mentioned above, I edit as I go, so the first draft takes longer, but is perhaps less rough. Still, there will and must be other drafts. I don’t enjoy the process of taking an existing thing apart and reworking it as much as I enjoy first building it, but I still enjoy it. It’s just a different thing. More deliberate. As much craft as art.

Some of Buehlman’s skills in the horror genre come through, like that evocative prose. He’s got a strong voice and I felt a sense of resonance one of his novels in particular, The Lesser Dead. That novel is a first-person vampire tale narrated by Buehlman himself. The protagonist of that novel is a sarcastic wise-ass who manages to dispense some actual wisdom. As a result of how much I enjoyed listening to that novel, I found it difficult NOT to hear Buehlman’s voice in my head as Kinch and helped me to enjoy the novel to a greater degree. Halloween wraps fear in innocence, as though it were a slightly sour sweet. Let terror, then, be turned into a treat ... Vanessa Armstrong Horror Film It Follows to Get a Sequel, Reasonably Titled They Follow 6 hours ago Dark, gritty, lightning-fast, intelligent, irreverent… I loved it.”―Anna Smith Spark, author of The Court of Broken Knives Can you tell us a bit more about your other characters? Galva, Norrigal, Deadlegs and even our adorable cat, Bully-Boy, were such an eclectic group! Which ones did you have the most fun writing? And do you have a favourite type of character you enjoy writing?Dazzling. I heartily recommend this one.”—Robin Hobb, New York Times bestselling author of the Farseer Trilogy Christopher Buehlman (@Buehlmeister) is a native Floridian and author of the literary horror novels ‘Those Across the River’ and ‘Between Two Fires.’ He is the winner of the 2007 Bridport Prize in poetry, and the author of several provocative plays, including Hot Nights for the War Wives of Ithaka. Many know him as comedian Christophe the Insultor, something of a cult figure on the renaissance festival circuit. He lives in St. Petersburg, Florida. His first novel, ‘Those Across the River,’ was nominated for a World Fantasy Award for best novel in 2012. We also go further afield in Tyranny, exploring both the Imperial capital, Sova, and the southern frontiers where battered castles cast their shadows on flowered plains while this world’s Templars attempt to colonize the locals. Look for wilder fauna and stranger cultures beyond the Thrall mountains. Beware the Book of the Full Shadow. Also, we’ll hear a good bit more about Galva’s experiences in the Daughters’ War. I have to agree with you there, Deadlegs and Bully-Boy are best to be discovered knowing very little about them!

Brisk pacing, loads of snark, punchy dialogue, stylized characters, and unrelenting scenes of gaga mayhem. The Author Resource Round Table on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/group_folder/116489?group_id=26989 Some highlighted passages caused me to laugh, pushed the story forward, and offered nuggets of quotable wisdom or some form of innovation—all within a sentence or two. Simply put, Buelman’s latest novel is a raucous laugh followed by a punch in the gut—it’s brilliantly wild and full of heart. If you’re looking for an entertaining fantasy tale that slyly delves into deeper topics, try this one.

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The desire to depict so many women in control of the world and the narrative came from one of Buehlman’s world-building ideas: “I wanted to present a world that would show the reader how artificial the idea of patriarchy is,” he says, “and how it could be turned on its head with a big enough catalyst.” Cadoth was as big as a town gets before someone decides it’s a city. A proper trade town at a proper crossroads, it had an Allgod church crowned with a bronze sun, a huge tower to Haros topped with wooden stag horns, plus temples to a dozen other divinities scattered here and there. Notably absent were Mithrenor, god of the sea—nobody much bothers inland—and the Forbidden God, for obvious reasons. Pagran had taken up his dropped glaive and was trying to ward the corvid circling him. It bit at the glaive’s head twice, easily avoiding Pagran’s jab and not seeming to notice my missed arrow—these things don’t move predictably, and at twenty paces, an arrow doesn’t hit the instant it flies. Now the war bird grabbed the glaive-head and wrenched sideways so Pagran had to turn with it or lose the weapon. Pagran turned at just the instant the Spanth leapt fast and graceful as a panther and cut him deep just above the heel. Our leader dropped and curled up into a moaning ball. The fight on the road was over.

Not that I was afraid to die, but maybe who you die with is important. It’s important who’s with you when you’re born, after all. If everybody’s wearing clean linen and silk and looking down at you squirming in your bassinet, you’ll have a very different life than if the first thing you see when you open your eyes is a billy goat. I looked over at Pagran and decided he looked uncomfortably like a billy goat, what with his long head, long beard, and unlovely habit of chewing even when he had no food. Pagran used to be a farmer. Frella, just next to him in rusty ring mail, used to be his wife. One thing a town this size will have is a proper Hanger’s House, as the Takers Guild Hall is called, and I would need to head there to discuss my debt to them. My adventures with Pagran and his cutty, stabby, punchy crew had gone well enough that summer, until we got our arses pulped and handed to us by the Spanth and her murder-bird. Now Nervous and Snowcheeks, the sibling archers who’d scampered when the bird joined the fray, had all but cleaned me out. I needed money—fast—and playing a few hands of Towers would be a good way to start. There are also some great discussions had throughout the novel; namely on the wastefulness of war, and the greed of men. Buehlman expertly builds upon these main themes, adding in little details piece by piece over the course of the novel and linking it up with his plot. We see the disturbing and widespread impact of war, alongside the depiction of the Guild and their overreaching hand. These main themes, paired with the author’s direct writing style, prompt the reader to draw their own conclusions about the worth of war, and who really profits from it. Heinrich the Sovan war shepherd is a nice touch for those of us who enjoy the company of canines, as well.A slightly bigger town, one with a full-time whore who doesn’t also brew beer or mend shirts, will have an Allgod church with a thatched roof and a bronze disc in a square of lead or iron, plus a proper temple to whichever local deity they feel will defecate least upon their hopeful, upturned faces. Only the strong, the rich, and the dying think truth is a necessity; the rest of us know it for a luxury.