Well, there they are. I finally got my paper copies of The Baldur Game yesterday, so at last I can take a family portrait. My magnum opus, for all the world to see.
I hope there are people out there who’ve been burned by George R. R. Martin and Patrick Rothfuss, who have vowed never to start reading an unfinished fantasy series again, who will now descend like seagulls on a bag of potato chips (but with better manners, I hope).
I got a fair start, in terms of sales. The book climbed as high as number 20 on the Amazon Christian Fantasy list (after Hunter Baker’s Basefook post). It’s sagged now, of course, inevitably. This is where I’m hoping that people are using the time reading, so they can post their rave reviews in multitudes after a few days.
I’m not a man to toot his own horn, as I think you know. But I went through the whole series last year, shaping each book up for paperback release, and I can’t deny I liked them very well. I believe that if somebody else had written them, I’d be promoting them with enthusiasm.
For all who’ve bought them, thank you. If you’d post an Amazon review, or at least a rating, I’d be grateful.
The wizardry was done over the weekend, and now you can have your own personal copy of The Baldur Game, the final book in the Saga of Erling Skjalgsson, in palpable paperback, to display on your shelves to the admiration of all.
I’d like to think this is a significant day in literary history. It’s certainly significant in my literary history. The Baldur Game, the final volume in my Saga of Erling Skjalgsson, has gone live on Amazon today.
It’s only the ebook at this point — the paperback is ready to go, but I hit a small glitch in getting the cover together. I hope that’ll be straightened out very soon.
An era in my life is finished. These are the books I dreamed of writing as a boy. Whatever I accomplish or fail to accomplish in my little life, I’ll be able to say that I fulfilled that dream. I set my books before the world; let it judge them as it will .
Avaldsnes Church (my photo). The dark shape toward the left end of the nave is the last remaining standing stone. They call it “The Virgin Mary’s Sewing Needle.”
Tonight’s topic is one I’ve been thinking about ever since I began formatting my novels for paperback. The fact that I’ve forgotten about this topic every evening when the time came to compose a post probably says something about me personally – specifically about my reluctance to admit my mistakes.
Because my mistakes are my topic.
Specifically, my inconsistencies.
In my books.
Emerson (who knew something of suffering, since his parents named him Ralph Waldo) famously said, “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” This has given great comfort, over a couple centuries, to many people looking for excuses.
Which brings us to me.
One thing (one of many) that has bedeviled me over the years, as I’ve worked on my Erling Saga, was a sneaking suspicion that I was describing things differently in different books. I have avoided this problem by assiduously refraining from re-reading them. But the process of formatting for paperback has forced me to read each of them, and I’ve discovered that my fears were justified.
Shall I share some of the inconsistencies? Will that depress others as much as it depresses me?
Be strong, and read on if you dare.
The character of King Olaf’s marshal, Bjorn (the sagas do not give us his father’s name; I had to make one up for him), is described as dark-haired on his first appearance. In King of Rogaland he is suddenly fair-haired and bald.
Closer to my heart are the standing stones at Augvaldsness (Avaldsnes) on Kormt (Karmøy) island. This, as I’ve explained more often than you care to recall, is the location of my great-grandfather’s home church. Only one of those standing stones still stands today, but originally there was an array of five. In one of the Erling books (I think it was The Elder King, but I’m already not sure) I said only two of those stones were standing at the time, and the others were just stumps. But in King of Rogaland, based on a reconstruction of the Viking Age farm from Norway, I put all five up again, adding a lame excuse that Ailill’s memory is vague, and he thinks the magic of the place has affected his perception.
And now I have to live with it.
Well, if Conan Doyle could live with forgetting where Dr. Watson got his wound in Afghanistan, I can probably live with these things. It’ll give future Walker scholars something to debate. Or laugh about.
I am delighted to be able to announce that King of Rogaland, the sixth book in the Saga of Erling Skjalgsson, is available for Kindle download as of today. Makes a great Christmas present for Kindle readers.
