Sunday, 13 November 2011

That book with all the rape ...

In the last few months I've had occasion to blink at some fairly extreme portrayals of the book I wrote (Prince of Thorns)

Here are just four of many:

"Prince of Thorns, by Mark Lawrence.  It was exactly as I expected it to be–which is to say, full of unrelenting rape"


The idea that someone thinks Mark Lawrence's rapefest is "one of the very best" in SFF makes me want to live on a different planet.

(referring to THIS scene from Donaldson's Lord Fouls' Bane (1979))  "Prince of Thorns makes that depiction seem beyond mild in comparison"


"All men. All rape. All violence."

Facts have surprisingly little bearing in such matters, but for the sake of completeness I felt I should toss a couple of them out there.

Below are both the rape scenes in the book. Technically they constitute very minor spoilers, so take advantage of the spoiler space if you need to or if you feel they might be too harrowing.

1)   I saw what they did to Mother, and how long it took.

2)   The fat girl had a lot to say, just like her father. Screeched like a barn owl: hurt my ears with it. I liked the older one better. She was quiet enough. So quiet you'd give a twist here or there just to check she hadn't died of fright.

Little things

Settle down, settle down, it's just a couple of links:

i) Prince of Thorns has been shortlisted on Goodreads for Best Fantasy of 2011. An incredible honour given the company it's keeping there:

The selection was based on rating from the site's 6 million members and the 'Best of' polls have take a quarter million votes in 2 weeks!

ii) My silliness continues & my 'It's time to fucking eat' poem is now a photo epic! Feel free to retweet & link the hell out of it until Samuel L Jackson agrees to narrate and it follows 'Go the fuck to sleep' to the top of the New York Times best seller list  :)

Saturday, 5 November 2011

My homage to "Go the fuck to sleep"

You know I love you dearly, your face it is so sweet, now open up your little mouth, it’s time to fucking eat.

The spoon it is approaching, a food-train heaped and yummy, unpress your darling little lips and we’ll shove it in your tummy.

The lion eats the wildebeeste, the cows they eat the grass, so eat your fucking dinner before I shove it up your....

Ask not ‘what is this green bit’, please don’t dissect your food, just put it in your tiny mouth, then close it, don’t be rude.

You know I love you dearly, it just the kitchen’s heat, that’s making me so very red, now it’s time to fucking eat.

The fox it eats the rabbit, the owl swallows the mouse, please eat these lovely veggies, before I burn down the house.

This is the same stuff that you loved, one fucking day ago – how do you change your mind so fast? How am I supposed to know, that what was good on first bite, now heaped upon your plate, became the vilest stuff on earth, the thing that you most hate?

The kitchen is my cavern, where I boil my witch’s brew, with eye of newt and leg of toad, and bad things just for you.

You know I love you dearly, I’ve put that on repeat, but baby open wide now, it’s time to fucking eat.

I try to buy the good stuff and load a healthy plate, but all you eat is sugar, and I put on the weight. You’re buzzing like a humming bird, you’re humming like a fly, you ping around the room dear, as you hit that sugar high.

You liked it in the food mall, you liked it in the box, you liked as you tipped it out and poured the milk on top. But now that it sits glistening, and heaped up in your bowl, you say you’d rather eat a goat - a raw one like a troll.

The pots and pans I clatter, and I  make a good pretence, but nothing good will come of it, you’re too solid in defense.

You know I love you dearly, but I must admit defeat,  for in the end we both know, you’re not going to fucking eat.