The novel is finished*, It is now with my lovely editor, who will sort out my crappy grammar. It is 130 thousand words of Breedful shenanigans, give or take a few hundred words of malarky. I hope you’ve lubed up your eyeballs and given your wrists a good workout because this is one hefty tome.
It will be out in February. “February!?!” I hear you cry. “Why February?”
Welp, mes amis, December and January are some of the worst months to release a book. Everyone is either liquored up and full of pie or crying because they got liquored up and ate too much pie—but that might just be me.
As well as release dates being a factor, there’s also all the technical ‘stuff’ to sign off on but that’s not my department.
What is my department is the dreaded ‘back matter’ or ‘back blurb’ or ‘back cover copy’ or ‘the demented hellscrawl of a mad person.’
Now, I have a slightly unorthodox theory with regard the issue of ‘back blurbs.’ Go with me on this. If you’ve read up to book five, you’re likely to read book six. You’re invested, interested, even morbidly curious—whatever, you’re in. Am I right?
But oh no. Apparently, that isn’t how it works. I am told that no matter where it comes in a series, a book needs ‘back matter,’ and apparently, I have to write it.
Ask any writer, and when they’ve finished begging you for beer money, they will tell you that the absolute worst part of writing a book is coming up with the back cover copy. You have to reduce the wonder of your creation—the ins and outs, the cuts and thrusts, the convoluted and downright curious twists and turns—to a paragraph and make it snappy. It’s harder than trying to explain blockchain to a chicken.
Also, by this point, all the words have been used up. After typing ‘The End,’ the poor writer emerges from their pit and wanders around, blinking in the harsh light of day, grunting and scrubbing ineffectually at the food stains on their filthy jimjams while plucking lice from their unkempt hair.**
You are in this weird ‘just finished a novel’ headspace. You’re full of feelings, mostly hunger and exhaustion, when some editorial assistant*** demands you find more words for the back matter and that they are brilliant enough to make everyone who sees them want to read the dang book or go on a holy pilgrimage. “Either or will be fine.”
I hates it, I does. Did that come across?
So, anyway, there you have it, my manifesto on why back matter should be banned and news that the story is finished. It will come out in February, there will be a preorder, there may even be a quiz. I will let you know when dates are finalized.
All that remains is to wish each and every one of you lovely peeps a fantastic Christmas and/or an awesome Midwinter Feast.
KT
*The novel is never finished; it is relinquished, but it can always, always be improved or entirely rewritten.
**Okay, my hair—I mean me.
***The jumped-up eville minion of dark and eville gods.
