Clothed in Splendour!

Solaris have acquired the sequel, hallelujah!  And Babylon Steel was reviewed, favourably, in SFX.  Oh the relief.

I urge readers to buy a copy of that estimable publication;  quid pro quo, and all that.  It contains many an excellent article, apart from the review, (which I am in no way planning to have laminated, framed in gold, and hung over my desk.  At least not until after I have finished the rest of the Festive Preparations).

I am now, inevitably, in panic-stricken rewrite of the sequel, and suffering the probably entirely usual fears that I will fail dismally, that people might enjoy the first one but will find the second one a disappointment and strike me off their reading lists forthwith and with opprobrium.

I also seem to be suffering, as the astute reader has no doubt observed, from some strangely Victorian influence on my prose style.

I think it’s the hat.

I bought a hat, recently.  It’s a splendid hat, I like it a great deal, but it is high, and black, and has a tuft of feathers on one side, and in combination with a full-length, severely cut, high-collared black winter coat, does rather make me resemble a Victorian funeral mute.  Elderly people look at me askance, and shuffle away down the other end of the bus.

(This may not be because I summon thoughts of mortality, of course; I may merely look like some ominously dark-clad and eccentrically-behatted person they would prefer not sit next to.  I admit to occasional strangeness, but I swear I present no threat to the elderly – unless they should happen to read one of the sex scenes in Babylon Steel and suffer a fatal conniption as a result).

Clothes do affect my behaviour; a new pair of buckled boots gives me a piratical strut; a slinky dress brings out the inner vamp, in roleplay armour I get all butched up and start challenging half-orcs to arm-wrestling matches.

Hmm.  If I bought a navy-blue power suit, would I become suddenly efficient, whisk through the undone paperwork cluttering my desk, phone all the people I should have phoned six months ago, and generally Get Myself Sorted?  Alternatively, if I bought one of those cloaks that has a deep hood and goes all swirly when you walk, would I have no choice but to stand somewhere murky and brood a lot?

Maybe I should try the navy power suit thing.  In the meantime, I would be fascinated to know if anyone else finds that the clothes they wear affect their behaviour.


Clothed in Splendour! — 8 Comments

  1. Finished the book and allowed it to settle for a few days. I still want to read the sequel, more so than before, in fact. I think it must be very difficult to write a large group of friends/colleagues because few authors attempt it or manage it well. Most fantasy is quest-based so you have strangers getting to know or kill each other with the main character alone or accompanied by a cipher. Yours were well-written and you avoided going into too many details.

    Thanks for the pleasure.

  2. A warrior gardener? Now there’s a character!
    Actually that reminds me of Sam Gamgee. Sigh. Dear Sam.

  3. Hah. If I wore mail when writing my shoulders would get even more knackered than they do already; I suspect my prose style would become a lot brisker, and probably quite grumpy.,

  4. I apologise to all those to whom I’ve taken ages to reply, or failed altogether, by the way – I’ve only just found out how to actually see comments. I is a total luddite. Sorry.

  5. Hello Blythe,
    You should be able to get an RSS feed now.


    PS Got a good recipe for a prawn souffle?