One of my favorite book reviewing blogs is The Booksmugglers, two women who review a vast amount of fantasy, horror, romance, women’s fiction, historical fiction, science fiction, YA, and graphic novels. (Yes, one of the reasons I like them so much is because their taste is so varied.) They write thoughtful, detailed, fascinating reviews and my booklist has grown by a factor of five since I added them to my daily blogroll.
And it doesn’t hurt that two of their favorite authors, Carrie Ryan and C.L. Wilson, are two of my favorite people. So, anyhoo, at the behest of another blogger (I want to say Li?) a few months back, they reviewed Secret Society Girl. And today they did this awesome “joint review” of Rampant.
A few tidbits:
“WOW. I had a vague idea of what to expect from Ms. Peterfreund having read her excellent Secret Society Girl – but Rampant completely blew me out of the water. Or knocked me off my horse. Or unicorn. Whatever analogy, the important thing is that Rampant surpassed all of my expectations. This is a remarkably imaginative, painstakingly researched, and impeccably written novel. Not only is the core concept fantastic with its delineations of unicorn species and their unique history and place in our own cultural mythology, but the explication of characters – especially the gender roles of women, of virginity and power – is breathtaking.
“Yeah, you could say I loved Rampant from its hilarious start to its blood-drenched finale.”
And then there’s also:
“As a coming of age story, Rampant is a great book indeed. And one where the teenage girl does not depend on the teenage boy for a lifetime of happiness – there is a romantic element to the book and Astrid does draw strength from being with him but not in an obsessive manner. These kids talk, assess and think about their situation in a very balanced way and still they have their hormones driving them crazy. It is a great balance, if you ask me.”
Later today, I’ll be stopping by the Booksmugglers to talk about my inspirations and influences for Rampant. And you totally don’t want to miss out on that. (Hint: tombs, ruins, and some really scary monasteries.)
Okay, so first thing’s first: that event I mentioned last week? I’m going to DragonCon! I’ve been invited by the lovely C.L. Wilson to share a booth in the exhibit hall with her and some other writers (list of my co-presenters forthcoming, and yes, I’m an utter flake for not having it right on hand). And so far, I’ve booked at least one panel:
Title: Writing for the YA and Children’s Market Description: How to write for an audience that’s half your age–or less. Tapping into the minds of today’s young people–what DO they want to read? Time: Sun 11:30 am Location: Manila / Singapore / Hong Kong – Hyatt (Length: 1 Hour)
So come find me at DragonCon! I will have many copies of the hot-off-the-presses RAMPANT for your signing, holding and reading-under-the-covers-with-a-flashlight pleasure.
Fourteen days, y’all.
This will be my first trip to a fantasy convention of any kind. Nothing like jumping into the deep end, right? However, I have heard from friends who’ve been that the number one absolutely essential item at DragonCon is a costume. And since I am a veritable costume NUT, I could hardly sleep last night trying to figure out what I would wear. I refuse to be outdone by Maureen Johnson, who doesn’t even write fantasy. Oops, I mean, Devilish, which was actually awesome. Devils and pastries are always a good combination.
Anyway, costumes. Right. So… what to wear? I mean, do I go all out with a cosplay kind of thing? (Sailor Boy is very skeptical of this, by the way, as every time I mention it his eyebrows go up and he’s all, “Really?” as if he hasn’t known me for 9 years, didn’t meet me in my guise as a costume designer, and didn’t sit through my whole, “Let’s have a COSTUME wedding!” scheme before nixing it.) And if I do decide to go as a particular character, who do I pick? If you watch that video I linked to up above, you can see how some of those people are severely hampering their ability to do anything other than cosplay at DragonCon. I don’t want to be that person.
I also do not want to be the person who is sitting at her booth in the exhibit hall, trying to sign copies of her new, very modern set YA fantasy novel and having people ask her why the hell she’s dressed up like Eowyn if her book takes place in Rome in 2009.
And no, I’m not dressing up like one of my own characters. To quote the pre-Ari Gold Jeremy Pivens from PCU: one does not wear the t-shirt of the band you’re going to see at the concert.*
Not that I would be Eowyn, anyway.
Option Two, of course, is just to wear a general costumey thing. This is the option favored by my pal Marianne Mancusi. Her favorite aesthetic is called “Gothic Lolita,” and she talks about it at length here. My favorite aesthetic would, of course, be steampunk.** And of course, at a place like DragonCon, I could take the steampunk aesthetic one step farther than the usual jeans and white blouse with a velvet jacket and lace up boots look.I mean, goggles!***
The problem is, a lot of what the people out there selling clothing/costumes seem to think is “steampunk” is a bit more like Marianne’s “gothic lolita” if you ask me. Or perhaps too much punk (or goth/fetishwear) and not enough steam. Or just weirdly burlesque and uncomfortable. I’m not a steampunk stripper, y’all. I’m a children’s author.
Also, IMO, you can’t take a long skirt, rip big scraggly holes in it, and call it steampunk. It’s just spiderwebby. The definition of steampunk does not begin and end with “something Helena Bonham Carter would wear.” FWIW.
And there is also the whole commitment issue. I have nothing against people who want to go to a con and wear a costume and have that be their thing, but I have a tough time believing that I myself could be comfortable wandering around in something like this:
Kinda The Borg Do Steampunk, yeah? Outside of an actual production of Cirque du Soleil, this isn’t going to work.
So, yeah. Hopefully there is a happy medium to be had, in between my usual fare and the all out wackadoodle stuff. I pretty much want normalish, kicked up a notch. Because, y’know. DragonCon.
However, if I were to dress up as a character, who should I be? Leave your suggestions here.****
______________
* I believe it’s important to reveal at this moment that I totally just put together that was a very young Jon Favreau in that movie who is the recipient of Pivens’s criticism.
** Dude, I’ve never been so happy as I was when I discovered there was actually a name to describe all the velvet military jackets and bustled skirts and lace up boots in my wardrobe.
*** No, not really goggles. But maybe a pocket watch.
**** Please do not say Kara Thrace. Yes, I know I have short blonde hair. Still not happening.
Okay, I know y’all have been dying for an official, “this is the first chapter” excerpt of Rampant. Well, wait no longer, for one can be viewed both on my RAMPANT page, as well as on the HarperTeen website. Enjoy!
In other news (literally), there’s a great article in the Tampa Tribune today about the members of Tampa Area Romance Writers, including yours truly. Though I’m sometimes curious how reporters draw certain conclusions from the facts given (for instance, Julie and I have never “collaborated” on a novel*, though she has read and critiqued various things I’ve written), it is overall a great article and keeps the requisite quota of romance novel-bashing (predictable! bodice-ripper! trite! porn!) to a minimum.
Additionally, I have some great news forthcoming about TWO NEW events on the RAMPANT tour. And, guess what? These don’t take place in DC! Stay tuned…
And finally, one more review of Rampant, if you can stand it. this one comes courtesy of book blogger Reverie Book Reviews, who graces Rampant with an “A-” score and the following:
Right from the start Diana throws us into the gnarly world of killer unicorns, sex, and death. Diana doesn’t spare us the nitty gritty and goes for it with the highest of bravery. The romance is not in any way safe or easy and the relationships are difficult and troubled. The characters are tough and clever who deal with ‘real’ issues even among killer unicorns. Best of all, Diana makes this concept believable and with ease threw me deep into the book knowing that I will be able to swim through this book enjoying every minute.
What I most admire Peterfreund for is the brilliant re-imagination of the unicorn myth blending mythology and history and newfound ideas into a seamless plot arc with deep and multi dimensional characters. Though at times the plot took a toll on me (meaning, the world building was extensive, but needed) I was still captivated and immensely intrigued by Astrid, Phillipa and Giovanni’s adventure.
___________
* Edited to add: Actually, I think our relationship has been infinitely better then what would probably have been a very short and acrimonious collaborative one — because I know myself well enough to know I would not work well with a cowriter. What Julie became was my mentor. She introduced me to TARA and RWA, she encouraged me to finish my first book, she read my first query letter and proposal, and she has been a staunch supporter and advisor to me throughout my career. It’s one of my most valued friendships.
So this is an experiment. I recorded my first podcast. It made me realize that Pantalaimon’s little built-in microphone probably isn’t going to cut it in the long run. There was nothing I could do to remove the static, and it makes me sound like I’m slurring some of the words. I feel kind of like poor Neil Armstrong and that whole “man/a man” debacle. Except, you know, sitting in my office instead of walking on the surface of the moon.
Other than that, though, I’m happy with how it turned out.
Behold: listen to me read another short excerpt from RAMPANT! In this scene, Astrid, her fellow hunter Cory, and their pet pygmy unicorn Bonegrinder are exploring beneath the ancient nunnery, and discovering that the medieval Romans had a serious knack for the macabre in their interior design:
Okay, so that’s done. What do you think? Am I all set for the signings?
Now, onto the review bit.
First of all, not only did Tamora Pierce give me an awesome blurb for the book jacket, but she also recently posted this on her blog on a list of “good teen summer reads”:
Peterfreund, Diana RAMPANT (8/09): Almost here! Almost here! I will only put it this way, okay? Try . . . Buffy, the Vampire Slayer meet killer unicorns. I mean killers. Vicious, slaughtering, bloody-hoofed, razor-horned unicorns, who supposedly vanished, except, well, they didn’t. }8-D
Yeah, I felt a bit faint when I read that.
There’s also a new review up at Angieville. Now, Angie has always been a very vocal fan of my Secret Society Girl series, but she’s also a big fantasy fan, so I’ve been very curious to see her reaction to this, my first fantasy. I do wonder how many of my readers will crossover. For me, I think nothing of reading a historical romance, then a chick lit, then a science fiction novel, then a fantasy epic, but I know that most people are a lot more circumspect in terms of which genres they’ll go for.
(I have actually gotten a few letter from fans who are upset that I wrote Rampant after finishing the secret society girl series — instead of another book like SSG — which I can’t help but be amused by, because in actual point of fact, I started wriitng Rampant at the same time as I wrote Secret Society Girl, back in 2005. I sold it before I finished Rites of Spring (Break), in 2007, and finished it before I even WROTE Tap & Gown, in 2008. So from my perspective, this “diversion” into YA fantasy has always been something that was going on concurrently with my adult mainstream writing, though I understand that, from the perspective of the reader, all they know is which books come out when.)
I always enjoy Diana Peterfreund’s light touch with words. Her prose never feels heavy or disjointed and it’s a pleasure letting your mind and eyes absorb the words as they come. Rampant’s strengths lie in its worldbuilding–the seamless way in which unicorn lore and legends come together to form the fabric of reality in Astrid’s world. They are horrifying creatures and, when Astrid encounters the more nightmarish ones, the aftereffects include vomiting and agony. I absolutely loved how heinous they were. Along with that, the history of the hunters is layered and complex and extremely well done. I occasionally find myself tiring during exposition that covers thousands of years, wanting to get back to the action of the main plot. Not so here. The stories and bloodlines and incarnations were so varied and interesting that all I wanted was more.
Eighteen days left. I MAY not make it. (Cf. aforementioned bit about having started this book in 2005.)
Contact me with your address to receive your prize.
Okay, next order of business. I still haven’t gotten that whole excerpt thing sorted, but TPTB are working on it, and I should be able to post an excerpt (or link to one) really soon. In the meantime, how about a little excerptlet?
_____________________
From the pictures in the glossy brochure, the Cloisters was a Mediterranean palace, replete with colorful frescoes, marble statues of naked gods and toga-clad saints, and towering columns. So it’s understandable that after I disembarked from the crowded bus, manhandled my rolly bag up a steep hill paved with uneven cobblestones, and turned down the alleyway leading to the Cloisters, I almost missed the place entirely. In the brochure, they were very careful not to show the crumbling, poster-plastered wall surrounding the building, the shattered plywood boards covering most of the upstairs windows, the pack of stray dogs sunning themselves on the stoop, and the bum leaning against the wall with a ragged rucksack and a cardboard sign covered in incomprehensible Italian.
Any lingering hopes I might have had of a wild summer spent in Rome, riding vespas and eating gelato at midnight in picturesque piazzas, promptly disintegrated.
I hefted the bag on my shoulder and maneuvered my way past the slumbering strays.
Here goes nothing.
Beyond the enclosing walls lay a small, oblong courtyard paved in dusty, cracked mosaics and littered with trash. In the center stood marble fountain featuring a pale stone woman in a flowing stone wrap holding the tip of an alicorn in a small catchment basin. Water cascaded around the horn and spilt over the lip of the basin into the large pool at the woman’s feet.
I neared the fountain with care, as if the statue might suddenly spring to life and stab me with the weapon in its hand. I leaned close; the alicorn looked harmless from this vantage point. According to the brochure—which I was beginning not to trust—the horn had been alchemized by some martyred hunter of the past to purify the waters of the fountain. A dollop of bird poop graced one of the twists.
Yeah, some purity.
And yet, attached to a unicorn, a thing like this almost killed a guy in the Myersons’ backyard last month.
Shuddering, I turned towards the doors to the Cloisters, which were large and made of copper oxidized to a pale, sickly green. Decomposing bas-relief squares appeared to be hunting scenes of some sort, but it was hard to make out more than vague shapes—tall, lithe figures in pursuit of longer, bulkier ones.
This place was a dump.
With some little difficulty, I yanked open the door with a pop. A wash of cool air enveloped me, and with it, a scent that made my nose prickle. In contrast to the sunny city outside, the Cloisters were dark and… dank? What was that smell? I closed my eyes and sniffed again.
Fire and flood.
Great, two steps inside and this place was already reminding me of ways I could die. I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle. If I left now, how far would my traveling money take me? How much did a EuroRail pass go for nowadays?
No receptionist greeted me. Instead I entered a large gallery, a rotunda whose ceilings were studded with mosaics of gold leaf and dark-veined marble. Stone statues of Alexander the Great and other historical figures connected to the unicorn hunting lineage stared out from niches every few yards along the wall. The sound of my footsteps withered on the floor, as if even the soles of my shoes were afraid to disturb the tranquility. Rolling my bag over the threshold, I called into the gloom. “Hello?”
As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw before me the outline of a woman and a beast on a raised dais in the center of the room. I approached, only to be met with another set of statues—though these looked more like the mannequins and stuffed figures you’d see in a natural history museum diorama than the hunks of marble in a sculpture gallery. A bronze plaque at the base of the dais identified the figures, and I dropped my backpack in surprise. Clothilde and Bucephalus.
_________________________
Twenty-threetwo days until Rampant is out. (I can count, I swear. Just not look at a calendar.)
So, anyhoo, at the behest of another blogger (I want to say Li?) a few months back, they reviewed Secret Society Girl. And today they did this awesome “joint review” of Rampant.
