Writer and editor of SF/F, drinker of craft beers. My work has appeared Nature, Abyss & Apex, Lightspeed, Tor.com, Strange Horizons, Grimdark Magazine, Tales to Terrify, and others. I am also the fiction editor for Hugo award winning podcast StarShipSofa. I am represented by John Jarrold of the John Jarrold Literary Agency.
The good people over at Shepherd’s – a fantastic book blog dedicated to building up authors and supplying readers with good material to read – got in touch and asked me to do a little book post for them. More specifically, a post listing five of my favourite books, all connected by a linking topic or theme.
Anyone who knows me and my books knows that themes of brotherhood and platonic relationships between male characters are things I am passionate about. They’re the driving force of my stories. The core around which everything else is built. I couldn’t *not* write about it.
So I did.
I’ve got five books listed here that have spoken to me one way or another about this very subject of male friendships, and why they’re so damn important to me. It was a fun post to make, and I hope you get to discover a new read that way!
You probably haven’t heard from me in a little while. That’s because I’ve spent one entire month in Japan!
I’ve wanted to visit the land of the rising sun ever since I can remember. I’ve wanted to go, but I told myself I had to get Book 3 finished and delivered first. So I did. And less than 48 hours after putting the book on my editor’s desk, I was on a plane to Tokyo.
The long and short of it: I loved it. It’s the best place I’ve ever been. I traipsed between Tokyo, Nagano, Kyoto, Osaka, and Nara. Describing all the details about my trip would take another blog post entirely (which is coming).
I’ve been learning Japanese since November last year. It’s a tough language. Really, really tough. It’ll be years before I’m anywhere close to fluent. As it is, my Japanese is conversational at best, but I can easily get buy. I understand about 20-30% of what is being said (depending on context). I have plans to move over there. Possibly for a few months, possibly for a year or two, if certain employment contracts pan out. We shall see.
Future Books:
Between all the sushi and sake and ramen, I have not been idle on the writing front. I’ve been writing. A lot.
I currently have two projects in the making. While I won’t go into too much detail, I will say that the first, and primary project, is a science-fantasy space opera. It’s set almost 20,000 years in the future, and the main cast, including the main character, are all half-human, half-alien. It’s first person (of course), and in present-tense.
I’ve got about 40,000 words of it nailed down, and I’m on track to have a solid first draft before the year is up. This one is what I’m hoping to get traditionally published.
The next project is very very different. It’s a fantasy, written in first-person with a female protagonist, on an adventure with two non-human characters. And one of them is her lover and partner.
Told ya it’s different.
I’ll be looking to self-publish it at some point, when it’s done. I have an idea to be a hybrid author, I think. I’ll never stop trying to be traditionally published, but I have a lot of stories to tell, and I want to explore some alternative options. Either way, you’ll get to read them sooner rather than later.
Buying Signed Books:
So. I’ve opened up a shop!
I have a limited number of copies of Stormblood and Blindspace for sale. These include the Trade Paperbacks, which are now out of print, and are notoriously difficult to find (especially for Stormblood).
You can now buy them directly from me, and I can sign, personalise, and otherwise deface them however you like. (Life hack: personalised copies make GREAT gifts for friends).
Please do be aware that because I’m located in Australia, the price of postage is likely to be high. How high, I do not know. I have a form on my website, which you can use to query me, and I’ll find out for you.
After nearly three years, Wolfskin, Book 3 in the Common Saga, has been delivered to my editor, Gillian Redfearn, at Gollancz!
It feels like an end of an era, in a way. I discovered the brooding, dark hero of Vakov Fukasawa back in December 2016, when I was just 22 years old. I’m nearly 29 now, and I’ve walked with him for three books as we’ve gone on this wild journey together. Now, I’ve told the (final?) chapter in his story, and I’m immensely proud of it.
Has the road been easy? No. It’s been rough. I was going through a lot during the drafting of Book 3. A lot. There were days when I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue writing. But I’m in a much better place now.
The book needed to go in a different direction from what I originally envisioned, and I’m very glad that I’ve taken the extra time to get it nailed down the way I want it. I’m *extremely* happy with how Vakov’s story has shaped up, and I do genuinely feel that this is not only the best book in the series, and my favourite, but that it will have the best reception of the trilogy. Those three things can sometimes fall into different sections of a Venn diagram, but in this case, it’s a circle.
But time will tell.
So, I hear you ask: when do I get to read it????
I don’t get to make that decision. It’s currently on my editor’s desk, and I can do nothing until she edits it and sends it back to me. I will have to go through those structural edits, discuss things with my editor, make my own changes, and then send it back to her. Then she’ll edit the book again, this time for line-edits. And then I’ll go through it again. And then there’s copyedits, proofs, etc.
So don’t expect to get your hands on it for a little while. No one is more eager for this book to come out than I am. But it has to come out at the right time, when it is ready, and not before.
But delivery is the biggest and most important step, and that’s been taken. I’ll be sure to announce it when a release date slides into view.
Till then, I’ll be going on a month-long holiday (I’ve earned it!)
I’ve also given a lot of thought to what I’m going to write next. And I know exactly what my next project is will. I aim to get that written sooner rather than later.
Finally, thank you so much for your trust and patience, dear readers. I greatly appreciate it, and I’m determined to end this trilogy with a bang.
Before I go, I’ll leave ya with the opening line of Wolfskin:
“Most people have to die before they get sent to hell. I had not been given the privilege.”
Science Fiction World, the magazine that has published and translated four of my stories into Chinese, has invited me to WorldCon in Chengdu, China. They paid for my flight, my accommodation, my expenses. I am ecstatic to be here, to be their guest.
I step through the massive glass doors of a deluxe museum. It is massive. Colossal. With its gleaming silver walls and subtle blue lights and minimalist chrome design, it feels like I’m in the belly of a hi-tech spaceship. Which is exactly the intention. I’m in the Science Fiction Museum of Chengdu, a building assembled and designed to host the World Science-Fiction convention in Chengdu, China. Its very existence pays tribute to the works and trappings of science-fiction. I am an invited guest of Science Fiction World, the magazine that has published and translated four of my stories into Chinese. They paid for my flight, my accommodation, my expenses. I am ecstatic to be here, to be their guest.
I’m led through a whirlwind of events, ceremonies, meetings, interviews and conversations. I’m thrust in front of cameras, wired up with microphones, offered seats and stools. I greet friends, both new and familiar to me. My editors and handlers keep close correspondence with me, telling me where I need to be, and at what time, and how I should be dressed. I’ve done WorldCons before. I know this gig. But something here feels different. There’s a buzz, a feverishness, in the air.
I know one reason why this is different. This Worldcon is diverse. Internationally diverse. I am signing books and t-shirts next to Korean writers, sharing beers with Japanese authors and mangakas, talking to Chinese artists, Colombian editors, Iranian booksellers, Egyptian producers. At my lunch table at the Sheraton, I’m eating with Mexican con organisers, Singaporean editors, fans from Saudi Arabia and New Zealand, Marvel studio animators from America, and literary legends from Scotland and Nigeria. I am rubbing shoulders with continents and dining with entire ecosystems.
And it’s nice. Never before have I felt so welcome. Never before have I truly felt at home, as a member of the science-fiction community. Diversity here isn’t spoken off. It’s acted upon. Where other conventions may attempt to gesture at diversity, as an abstract, here it is exacted. It’s presented, on an international scale. And it’s wonderful. We don’t all speak the same language. Because we share something else, something grander: a love of science-fiction and fandom.
*
But that’s not all.
Here, I am not simply just another writer who is attending the convention. I am a guest. I am driven from hotel to hotel, from site to site. I am recognized. Convention staff are waiting on me, to guide me to my designated seat, or usher me into a certain room. Things are expected off me. I am told where I need to be, and when, and for how long. This isn’t daunting. This confirms for me what I now know: I am a writer. I know my worth. I know my talent. And I know I am welcome here. Am I a little egoistical for thinking all this? Perhaps. But as someone who has been crippled by self-doubt, plagued by insecurities, and troubled by my own lack of relevance, if someone tells me that I am worth their invitation to their city, and that I am a good enough writer to be given a spot at their table, who the hell am I to tell them that they’re wrong?
*
But that’s not all. This WorldCon isn’t constrained only to books and literature. No. The entire plethora of fandom and science-fiction is on display here. Video-games. Films. TV series. Comics. Manga. Anime. Enthusiasts of robots and holographics and spaceships are present. This WorldCon has branched out, both in terms of funding and genre, extending its wings to encompass as many genres and subcultures of fandom as possible. All are welcome here, and all have a significant contribution to make to the world of science-fiction.
*
But that’s not all. Before too long, I notice the types of attendees here at WorldCon. School-children, on excursion, swarm the hallways and atriums. College-aged teenagers and young adults jostle excitedly when they meet new authors. Film-makers in their late twenties and early thirties buzz around, desperate to share their passions with their peers. And I realis how young everyone here is. How many children and teenagers are present, hungry for books, hungry for sci-fi. This doesn’t happen. In WorldCons I’ve attended, the populace seems to gravitate towards the older fans. Largely American, and almost exclusively English-speaking, these fans have been attending WorldCons for decades. They’ve helped to build Worldcon to what it is, and they’ll always have their place here. But sometimes, when they make up the majority of attendees, the genre in fandom can feel sterile and dry and classical. It’s a blast of fresh air to see so many young, fresh faces at this convention. And it is heart-warming to welcome so many of these young Chinese fans into the family of fandom, to tell them that they have their place here.
*
But that’s not all.
See, SF is revered in China. It’s not like in the West or the Anglosphere, where SF is seen as something either to make money at Comic Cons and through Marvel films, or a hobby for children. In China, it is something to be held on a podium. It’s seen as a vehicle for grand pursuits and as a discourse for various subjects. Engineering, science, architecture, languages. Aliens, spaceships, colonies on other planets, interstellar travel, gravity, and the impact these things will have on society and human behavior. It’s important. And in China, the convention organisers have secured enough funding to put their money where their mouth is. Science-fiction isn’t a just a hobby in China. It’s firmly within the public consciousness, respected and admired as a means of earning a career and furthering one’s education. And as I walk through this museum, this monument to the genre I love, the genre I want to devote my career and time to, the awe and emotion I feel is inexpressible. I feel like I’ve come home.
*
But that’s not all.
As a writer, it’s a struggle to even get noticed. At times it feels like you’re shouting into a void. An indifferent, uncaring void. In China, it’s the opposite. On numerous occasions, I am asked to sign something for someone. A magazine, a notebook, a copy of the Three Body Problem or a Cyberpunk 2077 comic (yes, really). I sign it. More fans come along. Some even recognize my name and get me to sign an issue of SF-World where one of my stories is published. Delighted by this, I sign that too. Between one blink and the next, I’m being swarmed. Fans are coming at me from all angles, books thrust out, desperate for me to sign it. Most of them ask to get their picture taken with me. Some even ask for me to sign my signature for their friends. I do, because the look of joy on their faces is so precious. They’re so excited, so overcome with emotion, to have met a real life sci-fi writer, that they’re practically glowing. They’re desperate to talk to me. About my work. About the genre. About anything. They’re practically shoving other people out of the way to get to me. They’re weary desert travelers, and I’m the fountain from which crystal clear water gushes out. It’s a very surreal, very nice feeling. More signings. Someone gets me to sign his t-shirt. Then someone else does. A young boy wants me to sign his copy of the Three Body Problem, which has already been signed by Cixin Liu. A mother pushes her young boy towards me, she’s so desperate for him to get a photo with me. It’s starting to be overwhelming. But when will I get this experience again? These people came to see me. I want to make their day. I want them to remember this moment fondly. I’m lucky compared to Cixin, who can barely even step foot outside the elevator before getting pounced. An hour or two later, I tell my handler I’ve had enough. She bellows for everyone to clear the way. She and two others escort me back to the Green Room. As they do, a young man runs up with his book, having missed my signing. I say that this’ll be the last one. And I sign his book as “Last one”. He’s grinning from ear to ear. At the end of the day, I must have signed five-hundred, perhaps six-hundred pages. Maybe more. Probably more. I’m tired. My wrist aches. My jaw is numb. But I’ve got to get back to my hotel room and be up in seven hours to do it all again. But I regret nothing. Because, for a moment, I got to make some people happy.
*
It’s the night of the Hugos ceremony. Usually, this would not bother me much. But tonight, I’m accepting for Adrian Tchaikovsky. He’s up for Best Series and Best Novella. Should he win, it’ll be me who has to go up on stage in front of god-knows-how-many thousands of people, accept the trophy for him, and not try and screw it up. No pressure. There are some great wins at the Hugo awards. Some as predicted, some not. I have too many horses in this race to pass judgements, at least publicly. But I will say that I am delighted to see a Polish comic writer pick up the award for Cyberpunk in the Best Graphic novel category. I’m also happy to see The Expanse and Everything Everywhere All At Once nab awards (although Andor would have also been a fantastic pick). It’s marvellous to hear the Chinese audience reacting to their favourite titles on screen. With a record number of attendees, and a record number of non-English attendees, it feels like we’re having a little more World in Worldcon tonight. Then comes Adrian’s category. My heart’s in my throat as the books unfurl across the screen. My legs are numb. And then comes the moment of truth. He wins for the Best Series. Everything’s a blur as I walk down the aisle and up the steps to accept the award for Adrian. Is this happening? This can’t be happening. It’s all so surreal. I take the award in my hands, shake the presenter’s hand, pose for the photos. I look out at the audience, but the lights are blinding. Before I read out Adrian’s speech, I tell a little joke about Adrian owing me a beer, because I bet that he’d win. The audience ripples with laughter. Feeling microscopically more confident, I read Adrian’s speech. I’m surprisingly steady. The worst has passed. Then it’s over and I sit back down. The rest of the night passes in a blur. There’s photos. Lots of photos. Then I’m dragged away to the Hugos After Party. It’s fabulous. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.
It was a fantastic night, and I loved every moment of it. But, of course, all credit and accolades here should go to Adrian for his fantastic Children of Time series, and you should all go read them if you have not already.
*
China has hosted the greatest WorldCon of all time. This did not feel like a fan-run con. This was a maniac, primal mix of the BAFTAs, Comic-con lite, and WorldCon, all rolled into one, shot through with a unique flavour that makes it stand tall and proud on its own. By securing funding that allowed them to invite and cover the expenses of so many guests, Chengdu has shown us what WorldCon is capable of. How far we could reach, how incredible we could make our genre. It is no exaggeration when I say that WorldCon China has set the bar for what Worldcons can and should be. They have kicked down the door and ushered in an international, diverse fandom, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. It’s my sincere belief that future cons will need to take some serious, serious notes on how to run a convention. Was it all perfect? No. Communication, while inevitable, given the language barrier, made things tricky at times. And the fact that the convention organisers at SF-World were not allowed to attend the Hugo ceremony or the Hugo after party is an absolute disgrace, and I’m furious on their behalf that this happened. But these are small blemishes on what proved to be a fantastic, phenomenal convention. I’d like to thank the entire team at Science-Fiction World, including Sara Chen, Lily, Yunxin, Xiangxi Kong, Jane, and Myra, for carrying mountains on their shoulders. Also in the view for thanks are Since, my handler, and her friends Yuhao and Yucheng, along with all the drivers, handlers, managers and staff members I came into contact with. Thank you. Thank you for everything. There may not be another convention like the 81st Worldcon held in Chengdu, China. Perhaps we’ll see more cons like it, in and out of China. Perhaps not. But I know that I’m going to look back in three, five, ten years time with fondness. I was there, I’m going to think. I was a small part of that incredible convention. I did WorldCon Chengdu.
This note is long overdue, but I wanted to say that it’s come to my attention that there are some typos in the print editions of Blindspace (I was as surprised to find them as the readers were), and that my publishers have corrected the errors.
This means that the ebook versions of the book have already been fixed. For physical copies, the corrections will come into effect for all future printings of the books. The errors, and the source of these errors, have been weeded out.
Lots of writers work to music. The chances are, your favourite epic fantasy or SF or crime thriller was written to the tunes of a soundtrack, especially if those moments are epic or emotional in nature.
While I can’t do lyrics while writing, since it distracts me, plugging into a few tunes really does help me get into the zone and into the mood. Some of the best scenes from Stormblood and Blindspace were written while listening to Sigur Ros or Explosions in the Sky. The titular chapter “Stormblood” was written to the melancholy and mournful strings of “Never Forget” from the Halo 3 soundtrack. If you’ve read the chapter, you’ll know why.
And, of course, many chapters were written to “Samskeyti” by Sigur Ros and “Ashes in the Snow” by Mono. Even if you’re not a post-rock aficionado, they’re well worth listening to.
In the future, I’d like to do a few more posts, fleshing out the songs and soundtracks that helped with the creation of certain characters, and how they helped me find the emotional foundation for those sections of the books.
Here it is, my people, the cover for WOLFSKIN – Book 3 of the Common Saga.
There is treason! Duels! Armour! Planetary sieges! Action! Betrayal! Twists! Turns! Character tension! Trauma! Gin! Wolves! Brotherhood! Found families! Nomad warriors! Alien empires! Gothic cathedral spaceships!
And a lot of savage emotional moments that will (hopefully) rip your heart out through your throat.
It’s shaping up to be the most epic, ferocious, and intense entry yet. The direction it takes will be different from the last two entries, familiar and yet surprising in all the best ways. While it’s also the darkest and most action-packed book in the series, it’s also the most heroic, with the most “stand up and cheer” moments than the last two books combined. There’s also a strong element of political character tension, a la Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon. I’m afraid to say more than that, so I don’t spoil the surprise.
And this cover is probably my favourite of the bunch. The folks at Blacksheep Studios have outdone themselves in every conceivable way, and they deserve all the praise here. (Support human artists, not AI.)
I’ve had a little of a rough time in writing this book, due to both real life issues and narrative congestion. But I’ve been doing very well recently, and I’m burning through my second draft like an armoured Reaper through a Battalion of cultists. My publisher hasn’t nailed down a release date yet (that’s their fault, not mine), so I don’t have a word on when it’ll be in your hands. Until then, I’m hard at work, orchestrating the next chapter in Vakov Fukasawa’s life as he battles through this savage little world that I discovered way back in 2016.
Till then, feast your eyes on this divine cover art and see that it is good.
The excellent folk over at Phantasia Press – a recently revived small press publisher of special deluxe hardback editions – have acquired the rights for Stormblood!
This means that there’s going to be two hardback editions of Stormblood – one lettered, one numbered. There’ll be 350 numbered editions. The books will include a slipcase, interior artwork, a dust jacket, a cover. And, of course, all copies of the books will be signed (or narcissistically defaced, if you prefer), by yours truly.
I don’t know any dates or have any idea of when any of this is going to happen, or what it’s going to cost. But I know a lot of people are avid collectors of special hardbacks, and with the Goldsboro hardback edition of Stormblood selling out within a week, I imagine there will be one or two people who will be very eager to check out what Phantasia Press does with Stormblood.
And if sales are good, there’s no reason why they cannot give the whole trilogy the deluxe edition treatment.
Alex Berman at Phantasia Press has acquired limited edition hardback rights in STORMBLOOD, the brilliant SF debut by Jeremy Szal. The deal was concluded with Alice Cottrell, Rights Manager at Orion/Gollancz. Gollancz published STORMBLOOD in 2020, and the sequel, BLINDSPACE, in 2021. The third book in the sequence, WOLFSKIN, is being written.
If you want to make sure you hear about the release dates/pre-orders as soon as possible, you’d do well to subscribe to my Book Club, since I’ll be posting the news and links there first.
JEREMY SZAL 