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NickP

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Aug 17, 2014
And the next 5...would you read on?


Number 6


The felt-padded base of the ivory bishop thumped faintly on the marble chessboard.

“Check,” said the girl.

The face of the old man acres the table from her was in shadow - the curtains were drawn across the street-side windows, and the chandelier overhead hung crookedly because of the gas-saving mantle screwed into it - and all she could see under the visor of his black cap was the gleam of his thick spectacles as he peered at the chess pieces.

Both of them hated to lose.


Number 7


It’s a sad fact of modern life that if you drive long enough, sooner or later you must leave London behind. If you drive north-east up the A12 you eventually come to Colchester, Britain’s first Roman capital and the first city to be burned down by that red-headed chavette from Norfolk known as Boudicca. I knew all this because I’d been reading the Annals of Tacitus as part of my Latin training. He’s surprisingly sympathetic to the revolting Brits, and scathing about the unpreparedness of the Roman generals who thought more of what was agreeable than expedient. The classically educated chinless wonders who run the British Army obviously took the admonition to heart because Colchester is now the home to their toughest soldiers, the Parachute regiment. Having spent many a saturday night as a probationary PC wrestling squaddies in Leicester Square, I made sure I stayed on the main road and bypassed the city altogether.


Number 8


It was Tuesday evening and so William’s friend, Greenlaw, from the Buntingham Grammar School, was there. When William dropped the stub of his cigarette into his coffee cup and said, “Well, what about a game?” Greenlaw nodded and the replied solemnly: “Let us play at the pieces.”


Number 9


At seven fifteen a.m., his bedroom slightly colder than the vacuum of space, Joshua Joseph Spark wears a longish leather coat and a pair of his father’s golfing socks. Among other differences, natural golfers do not acquire their socks by hijacking a lorryload destined for St Andrews. It isn’t done. Golf is a religion of patience. Socks come and socks go, and the wise golfer waits, sees the pair he wants, and buys it without fuss. The notion that he might put a Thompson sub-machine gun in the face of the burly Glaswegian driver, and tell him to quit the cab or adorn it…well. A man who does that is never going to get his handicap down below the teens.


Number ten


There was a harsh gale blowing on the night Yarvi learned he was a king. Or half a king, at least.
 
6. Yes, I'd read. Intriguing. Also, I like chess.
7. Yes, I'd probably read. It seems well-written.
8. Hard to tell from the length of extract, but no, doesn't immediately grab me.
9. Not sure. Probably not, the style doesn't grab me, seems a bit derivative of PGW, but I'd probably read a little further to make my mind up.
10. Probably not, but hard to tell from two short sentences.
 
6. Yes, I'd read. Intriguing. Also, I like chess.
7. Yes, I'd probably read. It seems well-written.
8. Hard to tell from the length of extract, but no, doesn't immediately grab me.
9. Not sure. Probably not, the style doesn't grab me, seems a bit derivative of PGW, but I'd probably read a little further to make my mind up.
10. Probably not, but hard to tell from two short sentences.
Funny I landed right with you there on number ten.
 
6. Nope. I need some kind of action to be going on.
7. Nope. Same reason.
8. I have zero idea what's happening here. Nope.
9. HELLS TO THE YES. Though I really dislike present tense. But it said machine gun and blowing kneecaps off already, so you've got my attention.
10. I am intrigued. What did half a king mean? Yeah, I'd probably keep reading, but unless someone gets beheaded or offed soon, I'm probably out. I prefer present day stuff.
 
Fascinating. Big reveal of titles sometime tomorrow.

Obviously the first para is not the only way books get bought, read, sold, published, but I am interested in how much of a work is revealed upfront. Sometimes the whole concept is there! Bilbo Baggins eleventh-first birthday and Orwell's clock striking thirteen.
 
6. Probably, just to see where this is going
7. No, doesn't really give me any sense of what it's about
8. Yes, this could get interesting so I'd give it a chance
9. No but then I find golf boring
10. Yes, I'm intrigued to know what a half king is.
 
And here's the answers:

Number 6

The felt-padded base of the ivory bishop thumped faintly on the marble chessboard.

“Check,” said the girl.

The face of the old man acres the table from her was in shadow - the curtains were drawn across the street-side windows, and the chandelier overhead hung crookedly because of the gas-saving mantle screwed into it - and all she could see under the visor of his black cap was the gleam of his thick spectacles as he peered at the chess pieces.

Both of them hated to lose.

Hide Me Among The Graves by Tim Powers ("an impressively original variation on the vampire theme")

Number 7

It’s a sad fact of modern life that if you drive long enough, sooner or later you must leave London behind. If you drive north-east up the A12 you eventually come to Colchester, Britain’s first Roman capital and the first city to be burned down by that red-headed chavette from Norfolk known as Boudicca. I knew all this because I’d been reading the Annals of Tacitus as part of my Latin training. He’s surprisingly sympathetic to the revolting Brits, and scathing about the unpreparedness of the Roman generals who thought more of what was agreeable than expedient. The classically educated chinless wonders who run the British Army obviously took the admonition to heart because Colchester is now the home to their toughest soldiers, the Parachute regiment. Having spent many a saturday night as a probationary PC wrestling squaddies in Leicester Square, I made sure I stayed on the main road and bypassed the city altogether.

Moon Over Soho by Ben Aaronovitch ("London is dancing to a darker tune...")

Number 8

It was Tuesday evening and so William’s friend, Greenlaw, from the Buntingham Grammar School, was there. When William dropped the stub of his cigarette into his coffee cup and said, “Well, what about a game?” Greenlaw nodded and the replied solemnly: “Let us play at the pieces.”

Faraway by J B Priestley ("the most skilful of all the writers of his generation")

Number 9

At seven fifteen a.m., his bedroom slightly colder than the vacuum of space, Joshua Joseph Spark wears a longish leather coat and a pair of his father’s golfing socks. Among other differences, natural golfers do not acquire their socks by hijacking a lorryload destined for St Andrews. It isn’t done. Golf is a religion of patience. Socks come and socks go, and the wise golfer waits, sees the pair he wants, and buys it without fuss. The notion that he might put a Thompson sub-machine gun in the face of the burly Glaswegian driver, and tell him to quit the cab or adorn it…well. A man who does that is never going to get his handicap down below the teens.

Angelmaker by Nick Harkaway ("Dickens meets Mervyn Peake in a modern Mother London")

Number ten

There was a harsh gale blowing on the night Yarvi learned he was a king. Or half a king, at least.

Half A King by Joe Abercrombie ("fast paced tale of betrayal and revenge that grabbed me from page one and refused to let go")
 
Nick Harkaway wrote a work of genius called The Gone Away World and is John Le Carre's son.

Joe Abercrombie has written a series of books set in the same world starting with The Blade Itself and its worth checking them out if only for his mastery of point of view.
 
Can't believe you've never heard of J B Priestley (?) Not widely read nowadays I suspect!
 
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