Diane Duane
The International Edition of Deep Wizardry is now out in the Kindle Store at Amazon.com and the DianeDuane.com online bookshop.
This edition duplicates the text of the North American Deep Wizardry editions from the 1st ed. hardcover through to the Houghton Mifflin Harcourt mass-market and digest edition paperbacks. Please note that this is not the revised / expanded “Author’s Cut” edition: that will be coming out later in the year.
The International Editions are for readers outside the US and Canada only, so please don’t bother trying to buy a copy if your address is in North America. If you’re in the US or Canada and you want a copy of the Deep Wizardry ebook, please use this link for the Kindle / .mobi version and this link for the .ePub.
The Deep Wizardry International Edition sells for USD $5.35 at the DD.com Bookshop and USD $6.29 at Amazon.com.
The stats, they are a-risin’. And the Irish desserts are getting a lot of attention. I commend them to you (click on the image for the full collection).
That’s the Baileys Irish Cream Marble Cheesecake there. I can’t tell you how hard it was to actually let the neighbors eat some of that. (droooool)
So Uptown Local and Other Interventions is finally ready!
I’ve been wanting to collect a batch of favorite stories together for a while now, and an ebook seemed like the perfect way to go. (The paper version will follow later: we’ll be converting this along with the new international ebook editions of the Young Wizards books.)
The anthology contains:
- In The Company of Heroes — A billionaire “living the dream” goes on a desperate quest for the one thing he needs to make his life perfect: a very special comic book…
- The Rizzoli Bag — A sad young man in a Roman cafe is offered a once-in-a-lifetime bargain…
- Out of the Frying Pan — The life of a part-time witch working in a shopping mall is turned upside down in a day…
- The Queen and the Thief and the Dragon — A (fairy) tale of the True West, and a young monarch’s solution to a thorny diplomatic problem…
- Bears — An ancient sorrow (with a modern twist) wanders through the tumult of a pre-Lenten street carnival…
- The Fix — In the dark guts of Rome’s Colosseum, a slave boy with an impossible dream becomes entangled in the machinations of immortals…
- Herself — In the heart of Dublin, something is killing the People of the Hills — and it’s going to take Ireland’s only superhero to stop it…
- Hopper Painting — Desolation and redemption in a midnight diner…
- The Back Door — Two terrorists meet in Zurich to carry out a very unusual heist with a confederate who’s more dangerous than they imagine…
…And naturally the title story, which hasn’t been in print since it appeared in the So You Want to Be a Wizard 20th anniversary hardcover: and the only other Young Wizards short story, Theobroma.
Uptown Local and Other Interventions is available for purchase in DRM-free Kindle / .mobi and Nook / iPad / .ePub formats at the Ebooks Direct store for USD $5.99. There’s also a both-formats bundle for the same price, if you have more than once e-reading device.
Enjoy!
We’re starting to put together the book trailer for the paperback edition of A Wizard of Mars (which comes out in May) and I thought I might start putting up some of the prettier separate frames as downloadable wallpapers for anyone who might like them.
These are all generated using the wonderful Terragen terrain generation and modeling software, which has been used in some interesting places (the highest-profile at the moment probably being the wonderful volumetric-cloud work they did for TRON: LEGACY). The terrain data comes from Martian radar altimetry sent home to us by the Mars Global Surveyor.
This one shows some very atypical weather in the Valles Marineris region — secondary to some busted-loose wizardry monkeying with the surface conditions, as described in AWoM. The dimensions are 1920×1200. Just “>click here or on the image to go to the download site at Box.net.
More of these are available over at the Young Wizards website, at this link. (The biggest resolutions aren’t available at the moment, but will be during March. It takes a couple/few days to render some of the more complex files.)
There were a series of snafus at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt that kept these books from all being out at once… but all the outstanding issues have now been resolved, and here they all are.
(Please bear in mind that you can only purchase these in North America. For readers in all other parts of the world, keep an eye on the International Editions page at DianeDuane.com. The whole series will be available there by late May.
Over the past few days we’ve had a bunch of people ask via email or my Twitter account if they can still subscribe to the project — either because they want an early copy of the paperback, or just want to be a part of the project.
Well, sure, why not? So we’ve restored the subscription buttons at The-Big-Meow.com — they’re in the left-hand column, under the “search box.” People who subscribe get immediate access to the online chapters (or can download ebook versions of the entire novel in Kindle / .mobi or Nook / iPad / ePub format) and will naturally have their names (or preferred handles or IDs) listed in the final print edition of the book as project supporters.
Also, the buttons have been updated for people who’re already subscribed to the paperback version and want to upgrade to a hardcover, or want a hardcover with dustjacket as well. Those buttons are at this link.
Thanks again, everybody!
(Note: I thought this posted yesterday… but it turns out it was only saved as a draft. Apologies, everybody.)
Friends,
This is to let the world in general know that the final chapters of The Big Meow, third and last in the Feline Wizards sequence, are now going online for the subscribers to the project. Beyond that bald fact, there’s a whole lot more to be said.
First of all, let me apologize. (And there will be apologies at the end of this, too, and some in the middle.) This project will doubtless be the strongest candidate in any possible contest for the worst-managed online novel publication project in history. If there’s any way to mess up such a proceeding that I’ve missed, even the kindest observer would have to be tempted to suggest that it wasn’t for lack of trying.
In particular, the lack of communication on my part was a major failing, and for this I’m particularly sorry. I just kept thinking that soon things would start to go right again, and I’d come out from under the rock and deal with it all then. But things didn’t… and the habit of being too embarrassed to tell anybody what was going on just got more and more ingrained until I didn’t notice it was now running my life.
I don’t want to get too much into what my mother used to call “the organ recital” here – the story of what’s going wrong or what went wrong with me, physically, mentally, or emotionally, along the way during the last half-decade. Five years’ worth of recital would try anyone’s patience at this point. (Even mine, and I’m the one the stuff in question happened to.) All I can say here in my defense is that these last five/six years have been terribly trying in terms of physical health, mental health, emotional and work issues, and much else. It’s frustrating, when the crises start to hit one after another, to be weighed in the balance and found so very wanting, especially as regards what used to be the fairly straightforward business of getting work done. This is a situation I’m going to have to spend the next five years at least dealing with and trying to repair – if indeed it can be repaired. But I hope everyone will believe me when I say that had I had even an inkling of what was about to start happening to me, I would never, never have begun such a project as this at all. Or if I had… I would have written the book first and then serialized it. (And these words are now more or less branded on the inside of my skull: WRITE THE DAMN BOOK FIRST, DUMMY. SRSLY.)
Nonetheless there comes a time when more than apologies are needed, and you have to pull up your socks and try to get things straightened out. This is it.
A surprising number of people forked out seed funding for this project, either as challenge grants or in the form of straightforward subscriptions to the book proper. As regards the grants and donations: I will be refunding them all. I’ll be contacting all the people who made them, and we’ll privately sort out the associated details of hows, whens and wherefores.
As regards the subscribers: it’s been incredibly heartening how very few people have ever asked for a refund in the face of these terribly long delays. And subscribers who want their subscriptions refunded at this point will naturally get them. Again, when those folks hear from me over the next couple / few days as we kick the new subscriber mailing list into shape (the old one was based on one of those well-intentioned pieces of software that sounds like a good idea but in fact is almost impossible to operate without screwing everything up: we’re moving everything into MailChimp instead), I will sort the details out with them. For all the rest of you, who gave me the benefit of the doubt… you have no idea how much your trust has meant, and I thank you. You have been one of the bright spots in a long difficult period, though until now you might not have heard me say so.
For subscribers who want to continue being part of the project as it was originally planned: herewith a timetable.*
First of all: how to get at the final chapters of the book. Everyone will have been mailed a username and password at subscription time. There has been a change to the passwords that originally went out, as the YoungWizards.com hosting provider has changed its password protocols slightly. Emails will be going out to you soon to clarify the change: or if you’re in a rush, use the contact form at the-big-meow.com to get in touch with staff, who will mail back the new info to you.
Once the subscribers have seen the material, in line with the way we’ve always done it on this book, all the final material will go “free range” at the the-big-meow.com website for anyone to look at. This will happen ten days from now, on Feb. 12th.
After that, before it goes between covers, the book has to undergo a professional edit. I have the good fortune to have worked with a number of excellent freelance editors over the years, and I’ll be contacting one of these shortly to hire him/her and sort out schedules and so forth. It would be unwise to assume that this process would take less than a few months.
Once the edit is handled, the new draft of the book will go out to the subscribers again – this time in a single file package. (Yes, we’ll be doing it as an ebook in multiple formats, as well as hard copies, for those who want them. There’ll also be an omnibus ebook of all three of the FW novels, but that’s something to think about later.) Once the revised draft is out, it becomes time to go to print. Over the spring I’ll be looking into what artist will have the time (and affordability) to get involved in a cover – ideally a wraparound, to make the best of the dust jacket that will go with the hardcovers.
And after that, the books will be typeset, and will ship. So in terms of the timeline, we’re talking about late summer for the printed books that come with everybody’s subscriptions.
What happens to The Big Meow after that is still way up in the air. I’m going to be listening with some interest to the subscribers’ opinions of what the work is worth. Certainly it provides a satisfactory wrap-up as regards the main continuity line for the major feline YW characters. I doubt I’ll be coming back to them on their own recognizance, though they will (as previously) continue to turn up now and again in the main Young Wizards books.
To finish for the moment: again, everybody, I’m incredibly sorry for the all the trouble and annoyance that the delays in finishing this book have caused. I’m seriously looking forward now to getting it out there into the hands of those who made it possible.
My apologies again, all… and thanks to all those whose understanding has made this outcome possible.
All the best — Diane
ETA 1: Some folks have been asking about ebook availability of the first two novels in the series. For US / North American buyers, they’re here: The Book of Night with Moon | To Visit the Queen (aka On Her Majesty’s Wizardly Service in the UK)
I had thought the ebook editions of these weren’t available in the UK, but Ebook.com seems to be suggesting that only Australia is out of bounds. (bemused look) Anyway, I’m following this up and will issue the first two for UK readers as ebooks myself at a later date, assuming that territorial rights permit.)
ETA 2: People have been asking whether it’s still possible to subscribe. I don’t see why not! After Feb. 12, when the present subscribers’ “exclusivity window” is finished, we’ll post a link here where people can do that. Thanks for asking!
*I almost typed “Herewiss” there. Just a note: if I hear the phrase “The Door into Starlight” in any correspondence relating to this, I’ll probably run around the house for a while screaming. Just so you know.

She lay face down on her bed, clutching her pillow over the back of her head, and moaned, “It’s useless. Useless!”
In the hallway outside her bedroom, Brianna’s mom had the linen closet open and was stacking sheets in it: Bri could smell the lavender water from here as her mom sprayed it onto layer after layer. And for the moment, the light clean scent infuriated her. Her mother’s compulsive housewifeliness didn’t usually bother Brianna so much except at moments like this, when the world was ending, and how nice the sheets smelled wasn’t even slightly germane.
“Sweetie,” her mom said, “maybe you should just wait a few days and ask him again.”
“It wouldn’t help,” Brianna muttered. “He’d just get the idea I really wanted to do this project with him.”
“Yes, but you do really want to do this project with him.”
“That’s not the point!!”
From out in the hall came the perhaps understandable long silence as her mother tried to parse this statement. Unfortunately Brianna had noticed that her logic and her mom’s sometimes just didn’t intersect, and occasionally serious annotation became necessary. “If I ask him again,” Bri said, pulling the pillow up a little so she wouldn’t have to shout, “he’ll tell everybody that I was desperate. It’ll be all over school. My rep will never recover.”
“Which rep are we talking about, honey?” her mother said, pausing to spray some more lavender water, and then to sneeze. Her mom was allergic to lavender, which always added a slightly surreal quality to this operation in Brianna’s eyes.
“My reputation as an independent kid who doesn’t need anybody’s help to get the job done!”
“Well, you don’t, if you ask me. So do it without him. If he’s not smart enough to want to pair up with you on this science fair thing — ”
“Parascience, please, Mom! This is not just people fussing around with anemometers and toy erupting volcanoes: it’s going to be the main event of Heritage Week!” Though she had seen Carol Anne Naylor’s plan for a real miniature exploding volcano, genuine magma and all, and had been consumed by envy at not having thought of it first. If it worked, it would be terrific, and even if it malfunctioned, that could still potentially be desperately cool. After all, there was never any guarantee when you were working with a fire elemental, even a baby one, that it wouldn’t get out of hand —
Another few sneezes came from outside, and then the sound of her mother shutting the linen cupboard. A few seconds later her mom came in and sat down on the bed beside Brianna, smelling strongly of lavender. “All right,” she said to Brianna, “I’m missing something here. What exactly is it that makes Arthur Etchison so necessary to what you’ve got in mind?”
His eyes. His shoulder muscles. His haircut. His – But there was no point in getting into this line of reasoning with her mother. Brianna pulled the pillow up over her head again, this time with reason, as she was blushing again. It was the curse of her life: she had always been an easy blusher, and this year when Arthur arrived at school from England, an exchange student, yes, and I’d exchange any ten of our guys for one of him, he is just so — Brianna moaned again, feeling like her face should just about be able to scorch the sheets under it at this point. “Mom, it’s just such a good idea! He’s the King of Shop: he’s got a way with metal, it listens to him. You should see him under the hood — ” Wouldn’t I like to get under his hood!! said one completely unrepentant part of her mind: in response, the blush scaled right up to blowtorch level. She started talking faster, hoping to distract herself. “And nobody, nobody else has even thought about doing anything with the paraphysics of magic swords. Everybody’s all hung up on organics this year, the specific gravity of potions and catalytic thaumachemistry. Or else this vague paperwork stuff, diagramming hexes, the structural analysis of spells.” She waved a hand from under the pillow. “Airy-fairy stuff where nothing’s likely to blow up or make a mess. Nothing concrete. Nothing practical.”
Her mother sat quiet for a moment. “Okay,” her mom said. “So if you can’t ask him again to help you, what are you going to do?”
Brianna was tempted to cover her head with the pillow again… except that wouldn’t help her solve the problem. “Think of some other project?” she said after a moment.
Can things get any dumber? Don’t answer that question.
“There are millions of people around this world praying to their God — whether it’s Hindu, Buddha, Allah — that [McCain’s] opponent wins for a variety of reasons,” Pastor Arnold Conrad said. “And, Lord, I pray that you would guard your own reputation, because they’re going to think that their god is bigger than you, if that happens.”
(eyeroll) It’s like something out of that old Ken-L-Ration jingle. “My God’s better than your God, my God’s better than yours…” I leave it to others to tease out the five or six hilarious and possibly offensive assumptions and logical fallacies underpinning the above statements. …But the whole thing factors down to: Please, God, don’t embarrass us. Is it just me, or is there something extremely wrong with that entire line of reasoning…and this guy — a clergyman — doesn’t even see it?
Also: has it genuinely never occurred to this cleric that somewhere in America there might possibly be someone praying to the very same God he’s (theoretically) praying to that the Unnamed Opponent should win? And that (to take a slightly different tack) if it turns out to happen that way, that this would — in his theology — be because of his very own God’s will, not as the result of some sublime hyperdimensional WWF match? …No, probably if that concept crept into the guy’s head, said head would explode. Was he perhaps trying to be funny? If so, FAIL.
…And here again we have this weirdness about not naming the other guy even at a distance, let alone when he’s standing six feet away. (“That one?” Tsk tsk.) I mean, surely there’s no point in not-naming even the Lone Power (click here for his version of the icon to the right) or Voldemort when they’re already sitting there waiting for you to finish speaking. Strikes me as rude.
I really, really wish I could just stop reading the news until sometime in December. (mutter) I also really wish I could email stuff like this to C.S. Lewis. Imagine the response.
With the world markets doing what they’re doing at the moment, it’s no wonder that past crashes and bubbles are being discussed a lot on the Intarwebz. The Tulip Bubble in particular has been getting a lot of attention, maybe because it just seems so nuts now that we’re used to seeing financial madness mostly centered around the (mis)handling of various kinds of paper.
But here’s an interesting article that suggests maybe what happened with the tulips in 1636–7 wasn’t so crazy after all:
[…the Dutch] were rationally responding, in finest efficient-market fashion, to overlooked changes in the rules of tulip investing.
As European prices for the dramatic flowers rose in the 1630s, many burgomasters—local mayors—started to invest in the bulbs. But in the fall of 1636, the European tulip market suddenly wilted because of a crisis in Germany. German nobles were big fans of tulips and had taken to planting bulbs. But in October 1636, the Germans lost a battle to the Swedes at Wittstock. Then German peasants began to revolt. The German demand for tulips sagged, and princes began digging up their own bulbs and selling them….
The sudden glut caused prices to fall, and Dutch burgomasters began losing money. They were in a bind. Trade in tulip bulbs was conducted through futures contracts: Buyers agreed to pay a fixed price for tulip bulbs at some point in the future. With prices having fallen in the fall, leveraged burgomasters were tied into paying above-market prices for bulbs to be delivered in the spring.
Rather than take their lumps, these politically connected investors tried to change the market rules—and they succeeded.
At which point the thoughtful reader says, uh oh!!
“The present regulations suck? Oh, okay, we’ll just change the rules / deregulate!” Does this sound at all familiar?… And why am I not surprised to hear Kipling muttering in the background?
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four…
To my great delight, one of the columnists at the International Herald Tribune this week heard him too. He was writing more in the political mode… but whatever. (A couple of other commentators have picked up on “The Gods of the Copybook Headings” as well, excerpting one verse or another.) For those curious about the poem’s title: “copybook headings” were proverbs, quotations or mottoes printed in perfect handwriting at the top of each page of an exercise book / notebook. You were meant to copy them down the page to perfect your own handwriting.
This is the whole from which the excerpts come, from one of the English language’s great masters of meter…and concept.
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “Stick to the Devil you know.”On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “The Wages of Sin is Death.”In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “If you don’t work you die.”Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will bum,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
…A footnote to this in passing: Kipling himself was no stranger to market-based financial trouble, bad investments and bank crashes. Chapter V of his autobiography Something of Myself tells how, on his honeymoon, halfway around the world in Japan, he suddenly discovered that his own bank had crashed, and that at the height of his (early) success he was regardless now completely broke:
Here an earthquake (prophetic as it turned out) overtook us one hot break of dawn, and we fled out into the garden, where a tall cryptomeria waggled its insane head back and forth with an ‘I told you so’ expression; though not a breath was stirring. A little later I went to the Yokohama branch of my Bank on a wet forenoon to draw some of my solid wealth. Said the Manager to me: ‘Why not take more? It will be just as easy.’ I answered that I did not care to have too much cash at one time in my careless keeping, but that when I had looked over my accounts I might come again in the afternoon. I did so; but in that little space my Bank, the notice on its shut door explained, had suspended payment. (Yes, I should have done better to have invested my ‘capital’ as its London Manager had hinted.)
I returned with my news to my bride of three months and a child to be born. Except for what I had drawn that morning–the Manager had sailed as near to the wind as loyalty permitted–and the unexpended Cook vouchers, and our personal possessions in our trunks, we had nothing whatever. There was an instant Committee of Ways and Means [convened], which advanced our understanding of each other more than a cycle of solvent matrimony. Retreat–flight, if you like–was indicated. What would Cook return for the tickets, not including the price of lost dreams? ‘Every pound you’ve paid, of course,’ said Cook of Yokohama. ‘These things are all luck and–here’s your refund.’
Whew…