Monthly Archives: January 2013

To Name a Thing

News! News, I say!

It’s pretty much nine months until Book 2 of the Lotus War hits bookshelves, which seems all portentous and shit. I read a book I found at a bus shelter once that said daddies and mummies who love each other very much can make a baby in that time, but that intel seems suspect to me, and my parental units would neither confirm nor deny it when queried. Dad would just ruffle the newspaper and grunt “Ask your mother” and my mother would flee the building screaming. But when you consider I started writing book two in January of 2011, nine more months isn’t John Holmes long or anything.

But anyways, on this portentous day, I come bearing gifts. Well, a gift more accurately.

The name of book 2.

Now don’t scroll down to look at it before…. Shit, you scrolled down, I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT.

Let’s just pretend you didn’t and roll on with the show. Don’t make me use the hose again.

It took me a year to come up with this name. I went through about half a dozen front-runners over the course of that time, but none of them really sat right with the story or what I was trying to say. I thought Stormdancer as a title had a vibe that matched the vibe of the book, but book 2 of the Lotus War is a pretty dark affair – I set out to write an Empire Strikes back episode of the story. The episode where you figure things can’t get any worse and then BAM, straight shot to baby-maker, Vader is Luke’s father (Vader is not Yuki’s father, that would make no sense, he’s way too tall). So I needed a title that would invoke that grimmer mood. It wasn’t until I’d started playing around with the concepts of book 3 that I really hit on a book 2 title I could look at, turn up the coat of my leather trenchcoat, put on my Lawrence Fishburne glasses and say “YOU are the ONE.”

Anyways, enough with the foreplay. Here it is.


That’s not official typography or anything. That’s just me on the Photoshops.

I think it’s a name that demands to be yelled, preferably while shaking your fist at some nemesis, or perhaps in some moment of dire peril. It seems (to me at least) to be a name possessed of a certain… angst.


Planet of the Apes

Damn you all to hell.


Run, kitteh, run.


Look how hipster I am, all dropping MLP:FIM and shit.





Yeah, I reckon that works.

It’s a celebration, bitches.

So, to celebrate the name launch, I’m gonna give away an ARC of KINSLAYER. We don’t even have covers yet, so it’ll be a while before I get ARCs to give away. But I’m good for it. I’ve got an honest face.

How to go in the running to win? Pimp my shit, of course.

Link this article in your FB or Twitter or whatever. Make sure you tag my Facebook or Twitter page when you do it, so I know you’re pimpin’.  I hate providing sample tweets – they make me feel like I’m telling you what to say. But a sample pimp tweet might look like:

So @misterkristoff ‘s new book has a title, and it’s <insert expletive/praise here>

Sample Facebook pimpage might include pictures of beautiful naked people or something. Subliminal advertising, man, that stuff works. If you were really keen about pimpin’, you could dress in some platform shoes and a purple fedora with a feather in it. But don’t complain to me if you get arrested.



To the libraryyyy!

I dodn't trust that old lady dogg her eyes are too close together


Home again, home again, jiggety-jig. Gooooood evening, JF.

Alright, holidays are over and we’re all back at work being miserable bastards, wishing we’d spent those two weeks off on something meaningful like learning Cantonese instead of playing Arkham Horror and Netrunner and eating shit-tonnes of dead cow. I blame the media, personally. And who/whatever decided dead cow would taste so delicious.

So a cool thing happened just before the break (a couple of cool things happened actually, but most of them involve STORMDANCER getting onto various Important End of Year Lists™ and nobody cares about that except me and possibly my mother) which I’d like to tell you about.

See, there’s this dude called Wil Wheaton. If you haven’t heard of him… I’m not sure what I can do for you. To give you an idea of scale, his cat’s twitter feed has more followers than mine does. In fact, if I can be brutally, Real Talk honest with you, one of my driving goals in life is to have more followers than Wil Wheaton’s fucking housepets.

(While I’m being all R Kelly with you all, I should take a moment to share my deep-seeded suspicions that it’s not actually Wheaton’s cat running that Twitter feed. He’s a pretty cool guy, granted, but no way is his cat smarter than my dog, and my dog has as much chance of conducting a coherent conversation on Twitter as my penis does… now there’s a thought... )

Anyway, Ser Wheaton runs this blog that I’ve been reading since before cats learned to operate keyboards, and I figured since I’d been reading Wil’s stuff for free, I should return the favor. I shot him a mail and offered to send him a copy of STORMDANCER in thanks for the hours of geekery/poker/tv/film I’ve seen him in. And in a display of 100% badassery, Ser Wheaton instead read the jacket copy, immediately bought a copy of my book for his Kindle, and suggested I donate the physical copy I was going to send to him to a local library instead.

Yes. Ser Wheaton’s awesome amplifiers go up to 11.

So today. I finally got into Melbourne City Library, copy of SD in hand, with this little plaque thing on the inside cover.

Not the plaque that goes on yout teeth, fool.


I also scribbled my name in the front, but again, nobody cares about that except me and possibly my mum.

I tried to explain to the woman behind the counter that I was the author of the novel in my hand but it was Wil Wheaton who was actually donating it. Sadly, her english wasn’t awesome and I suspect she thought I was trying to pass myself off as Wil himself, which is just crazy talk because I’m way taller than him and potentially better looking in dim nightclub lighting even if his fucking cat does have 6,000 followers, I mean JESUS IT’S A CAT, PEOPLE.

But anyway, this is the building where that book lives now. Feel free to steal it (the book, not the building, although stealing the building would be redlining the badass-o-meter).

Just in case all the books and librarians didn't give it away...

Happy New Year and all that jazz, peoples. Hope your holidays were spiffing, pip-pip, what ho old bean.