The Name of the Wind just came out in Portugal. They tell me that at the beginning of the month it was actually #7 on the bestseller lists over there. Which, I will admit, gives me a little bit of a tingle....
I haven't actually held one in my hands yet, but the cover looks pretty cool:
I always like seeing new covers for the book. Especially when the art has obviously been commissioned especially for the book.
Though I've only recently become a father, I've compared writing a book to having a baby for years. My mom used to refer to it as "her grandbook." And one of my friends used to ask about it in those terms. We wouldn't see each other for months, and when we got together and caught up on the news, she'd eventually ask, "And how's the baby doing...?"
Now that I've been a dad for a couple of weeks, I realize that the baby analogy is better than I thought. Before I was mostly referring to the emotional connection you feel to your own book. But now, having dealt with a newborn, I realize that writing a book is not entirely dissimilar to actually raising a child.
You feed it. Change it. Cuddle it. Dress it. Undress it. Change it. Feed it. Change it. Change it. Get it to take a nap. Change it.
And then, at the end of the day, you look at it and realize that it's pretty useless.
Don't get me wrong, you love it. You love it like nobody's business. But unless you're an idiot, you realize this thing really isn't good for anything yet. You're going to have months and months of thankless, repetitive work before it's capable of going out into the world on its own.
Later, when your book is published, it's very cool and very scary. That's when your baby has grown up enough to leave the nest. It's out there, meeting people all on its own. If you've raised it properly, it hopefully makes a good impression. Hopefully it makes friends.
But the foreign editions of the book are... different. It's still my baby, but it's not *really* my baby. It's like someone has cloned my baby and dressed it up in lederhosen and made it smoke a pipe for marketing reasons.
Yeah. The analogy really starts to fall apart after a while, I guess.
What was my point? No point. I don't always have to have a point, you know....
Wait! I guess I do have a point. It's that sometimes they make your baby smoke a pipe and you have to shrug it off. You don't know what sells books in Bangladesh, or Berlin, or Brigadoon. For the most part, you have to trust that the publisher knows what they're doing. For all you know, those Doonies are loonies for pipes...
But it's nice when you see the marketing and it appeals to your aesthetic. Like the trailer I posted before. Or this picture that I stumbled onto when I was googling up an image of the cover for this blog.
(Click to Embiggen)
I'm guessing this is a promotional poster. If it is, I wish I had a copy. I like the tagline across the top. "Kvothe: Magician, Musician, Thief, Assassin and... Hero."
Hell, if I'd have been able to come up with promo copy like that on my own, it wouldn't have taken me five years to sell the thing.
Later, you hoopy froods....
posted by Pat at 10:59 PM