The SFF Literary Pub Crawl

Welcome to the (updated) SFF Literary Pub Crawl. It was almost 3 years ago that I started my Questions Five interview series, which has had 31 participants (and more to come). I’ve always used a blend of repeat questions with questions specific to the author I’m interviewing – and all have been an attempt at humor that gives authors a chance to have fun with questions they’ve likely never seen before and blatantly plug a project.

It didn’t take long for me to begin asking questions about food and alcohol, with a favorite question that essentially asks to recommend me a pub – probably owing to my fascination and love of the pub culture of Britain and Ireland.

So, I’ve decided that to embark on a related theme – the SFF Literary Pub Crawl. Below I’ve share the recommendations from those interviews mentioned above – I divide first by location and then by the author making the recommendation. Surprisingly enough, not every author is alcoholic with a list of favorite drinking establishments, so some have submitted coffee/tea houses as well. As with any decent pub crawl, an end simply isn’t in sight, so I’ll continue to ask the question when I feel like it and I encourage all authors, editors, publicists, bloggers, and generally anyone who bothers to read this to share their recommended put to include in the SFF Literary Pub Crawl. Try to limit recommendations to just one or two and be sure to tell us why it’s a favored pub/ drinking establishment and a link if possible.

On to the pubs/drinking establishments:

Austin, Texas, USA

Ari Marmell: This is a surprisingly tricky question for me, because I’m actually not a drinker. I’ve been to a few clubs in Austin for various shows, but never actually for the sake of just hanging around and having a few drinks. (I’m more of a coffee shop guy for that sort of thing.) So as far as a pub/club, I’d say Prague is the coolest one I’ve been to in Austin, if only because of the ambiance; it’s got a really nifty feel and aesthetic to the place.And if I may stretch the definition to include the aforementioned coffee shop, I’ve never found any better than It’s a Grind. It’s local to Austin, and it’s absolutely fantastic. Wonderful ambiance and people, and their blended mochas are what the gods drink when they want a special treat in place of their usual ambrosia.

Brighton, England

Jasper Kent: The Shakespeare’s Head. It has good beer (of the warm, brown variety), serves about a dozen different kinds of sausages (except Sundays – boo!) and it’s within spitting distance of me. It’s not to be confused with the other Shakespeare’s Head, on Spring Street, which is good but not as good.

Brussels, Belgium

Jeff VanderMeer: An unnamed 16th century pub in Brussels where Ann tells me I wound up singing with a Frenchman at the top of my lungs. I don’t remember any of it, except that it was glorious.

Capitola, California, USA (south of San Francisco)

Gail Carriger: Well, this is me, so you're getting tea houses instead. My favorite is Bloomsbury Tea Room, in Capitola. If you're ever out driving Hwy 1 up the California coast you should stop in. It's a wonderful fusion of fresh California style ingredients coupled with a cozy British high tea aesthetic.

Dublin, Ireland

Peadar Ó Guilín: Most of them are ridiculously bad: giant sports games on every wall and pop music loud enough to murder the conversation we used to be famous for. Our ancestors even had a god of eloquence, once upon a time, did you know that? I miss him.So, for the real experience, you need to find what we call an “old man's” pub. If you walk through the door and half the stools aren't occupied by lads with pitted red noses and beer mustaches, then you should take your custom elsewhere.

Edinburgh, Scotland

Brian Ruckley: This is my kind of interview. It’s obviously absurd to try to narrow Edinburgh’s titanic array of drinking establishments down to a single recommendation, but given how long I spent on the haggis question I should probably try.I think the best I can come up with for you is the Bow Bar. There are two reasons: one, it’s a small, friendly pub with a mix of locals and visitors (but mostly locals), good beer and a startling array of whiskies if you’re into that kind of thing; two, it’s just round the corner from Edinburgh’s sf/f bookshop, Transreal Fiction, so on a rainy afternoon (it rains a lot in Edinburgh, but don’t let that put you off visiting) you can potter around the bookshop, have a chat with the owner, buy a few books and then retire to the pub to settle into a corner with a drink and read. Lovely. Also, if you lose track of time and end up drunk, there’s a chip shop within staggering distance to supply you with haggis and chips: a perfect end to a perfect day.

Glasgow, Scotland

Hal Duncan: Easy one. It has to be Stravaigin, on Gibson Street, in the West End. Funny enough, they have the_second_best_ way to serve haggis, because they're basically a gastro pub with a restaurant in the basement, and haggis is one of the staples of their menu. They tend to do a sort of Scottish fusion cuisine -- lots of game and seafood but influenced by recipes from around the world. As pub food goes, you can't beat it -- top-quality grub but in a really informal atmosphere. Also their cocktails are to die for. And I mean proper cocktails -- Bloody Mary, White Russian, Dry Gin Martini, Mojito and suchlike. None of those crappy 80s cocktails with nudge-nudge wink-wink sexy names, mixed by the pitcher from a couple of random spirits, a splash of Cointreau and a half bottle of Bailley's. No, we're talking cocktails for the committed lush. Martinis so dry you know the vermouth pretty much just got _shown_ to the gin: look, gin! Meet Mr Vermouth. Oh, dear, looks like Mr Vermouth can't stay. Bye, Mr Vermouth.Also Stravaigin is within staggering distance of my house. And I'm a very good native guide, you know. I'll show you round _all_ the best seats in the pub, for payment in the form of booze.

Lisbon, Portugal

Jeff VanderMeer: The Chinese Room (sic) in Lisbon, Portugal, which our friend Luis Rodrigues introduced us to, because it has more amazing airplanes and bric-a-brac while remaining sophisticated of any place on Earth. [Possibly the Chinese Pavillion – Pavilhão Chinês]

London, England

Joe Abercrombie: You could try the Phoenix Artist’s Bar off Shaftsbury Avenue, where a glittering array of genre writers are often to be found arguing with their editors over that most eternal of literary questions – whose round it is. It has the added advantage of being right next to several of the UKs biggest bookstores. Once you are drunk enough, I therefore recommend you stumble outside and buy any and all copies of my books that you can find. The dizzy rush of excitement you’ll experience will be far superior to anything you can get in a pub. Honest.

Kate Griffin: Well, I kinda don't drink, owing to expense and taste and the fact that I never really had much fun doing it. But I do have fond memories of the Sherlock Holmes, which is to the north of Hungerford Bridge, and the Castle on Pentonville Road has a very nice roof terrace in the summer, which almost redeems the fact that it's on the Pentonville Road. If you're after drink + fun, may I heartily recommend Cafe Kick on Exmouth Market, which is a sports cafe. This essentially means a lot of football, many photos of men in bad shirts looking mud-splattered, much booze and, best of all, bar footie. Many, many hours have been happily whiled away playing bar footie in Cafe Kick.

Los Angeles, California, USA

Charlie Huston: [Note: Charlie used to support his writing habit by tending bar in New York City] I hate pubs – they are places people drink cocktails in stem glasses.My favorite bar at the moment is the Lost & Found in L.A. It’s in a strip mall with a cleaners and across from a grocery store. It has a pool table and popcorn machine – things I value in a bar.[Note: right after answering this question, Charlie caught a ride to a nearby dive bar – Tallyho Cocktail Lounge in Scottsdale, Arizona]

New York, New York, USA

Jeff VanderMeer: The Brandy Library in NYC that Gabriel Mesa introduced my wife and me to; because it is set up like a real library and the lighting is magnificent and the liquids contained therein are insanely amazing.

Nottingham, England

Mark Chadbourn: I would certainly recommend going to The Trip to Jerusalem in Nottingham - you not only get good beer and food and good company, you also get great atmosphere and an unforgettable history lesson. The Trip is the oldest pub in Britain. You can tell that the moment you stoop through the tiny medieval doors into a maze of small rooms where you could lose yourself for quite a while. The rear part of the pub is actually carved out of the rock and there is a tunnel leading to an underground labyrinth that links vast sandstone caves running beneath Nottingham. Right overhead, Nottingham Castle towers. The Trip was founded in 1189, when King Richard the Lionheart announced the crusade against the Saracens in the Holy Land - hence the pub name. If you're looking for ghosts, there are supposed to be several here. But watch out for the locals - they may try to entice you into one of the medieval pub games, particularly swinging a small hoop on a rope on to a horn fixed to the wall. It looks simple, but is fiendishly hard - and the locals ensure a constant supply of free beer betting against unwitting visitors. It's also one of the favourite watering holes of Britain's fantasy authors, and when the annual Fantasycon is in town (usually September) you can find many of them propping up the bar. You can find out more here: http://www.triptojerusalem.com/

Mark Charan Newton: An easy one! The Alley Cafe - www.alleycafe.co.uk - in Nottingham. I'm a vegetarian; this place serves vegetarian food, locally sourced, freshly prepared, and stunning. Not only that, but the bar is funky, and has a good mix of people and ages. It's tiny though, and you end up sitting close to other people, which really shakes us Brits out of our preference for personal space. So, good food, good people, decent DJ at the weekend - what more can you want? (Don't say meat.)

Palo Alto, California, USA (south of San Francisco)

Blake Charlton: Antonio’s Nut House in Palo Alto: closest thing you’re going to get to a dive bar anywhere near Stanford University. So…not very divvy, but still it makes a respectable attempt. The place is covered with pool tables, stools, knick-knacks, neon signs, and strange Americana. The jukebox alternately rocks out Jonny Cash and Dr. Dre. A Mexican restaurant shares one side of the bar and you can get good enchiladas until around 11pm. The floor’s covered with peanut shells because they’re free on the house. You just have to fish them out of a barrel that’s in a cage with a giant gorilla suite. The gorilla used to be automated to move when someone came near, but too many of the non-regulars would freak out and jump away from the gorilla and into a pool game. Best part is the crowd, which is about one third town locals, one third Stanford grad students, and one third bar hopping types (some bikers) from up and down the peninsula. Sometimes a glut of undergrads will take it over, and that’s kind of a drag (unless you are one, I suppose.) But normally conversation topics range from quantum physics to football to Desperate Housewives to beer. Actually, everyone’s always talking about beer. I like the high geek ratio and that everyone in the place is pretty different and that they mix with each other, especially around the pool tables and dart boards.

Pilsn, Czech Republic

Jeff VanderMeer: The Pub in Pilsen, Czech Republic, where you get a tap at your table and can pour your own fresh beer—no preservatives or additives—and they have electronic scoreboards for every table at every The Pub in the country…and after four or five pints you definitely want to be at the top of the scoreboard. We spent an amazing night there with our Finnish friends Jukka, Tero, and Juha, Hal “The Wonder” Duncan, Alistair Rennie, Ian MacLeod, and several others…at the end of which I pretended to be Czech to the family from Montana at the next table.

Sonoma, California, USA (north of San Francisco)

Gail Carriger: Then there's Fiorini's cafe off the square in Sonoma, wine country. Real, authentic Italian pastries, tea in a proper pot, and wonderful coffee if you bend in that direction.

The SFF Literary Pub Crawl

It was about 2.5 years ago that I started my Questions Five interview series, which has had 27 participants (and more to come). I’ve always used a blend of repeat questions with questions specific to the author I’m interviewing – and all have been an attempt at humor that gives authors a chance to have fun with questions they’ve likely never seen before and blatantly plug a project.

It didn’t take long for me to begin asking questions about food and alcohol, with a favorite question that essentially asks to recommend me a pub. Probably owing to my fascination and love of the pub culture of Britain and Ireland, these questions are generally asked to authors from that part of the world – which amounts to 7 of those 27 interviews.

So, I’ve decided that it’s time to embark on a related theme – the SFF Literary Pub Crawl (this is an updated version from the original post). I’ll share the recommendations from those interviews above – I’ll divide first by location and then by the author making the recommendation. As with any decent pub crawl, an end simply isn’t in sight, so I’ll continue to ask the question when I feel like it and I encourage all authors, editors, publicists, bloggers, and generally anyone who bothers to read this to share their recommended put to include in the SFF Literary Pub Crawl. Try to limit recommendations to just one or two and be sure to tell us why it’s a favored pub/ drinking establishment and a link if possible.

On to the pubs:

London, England

Joe Abercrombie: You could try the Phoenix Artist’s Bar off Shaftsbury Avenue, where a glittering array of genre writers are often to be found arguing with their editors over that most eternal of literary questions – whose round it is. It has the added advantage of being right next to several of the UKs biggest bookstores. Once you are drunk enough, I therefore recommend you stumble outside and buy any and all copies of my books that you can find. The dizzy rush of excitement you’ll experience will be far superior to anything you can get in a pub. Honest.

Kate Griffin: Well, I kinda don't drink, owing to expense and taste and the fact that I never really had much fun doing it. But I do have fond memories of the Sherlock Holmes, which is to the north of Hungerford Bridge, and the Castle on Pentonville Road has a very nice roof terrace in the summer, which almost redeems the fact that it's on the Pentonville Road. If you're after drink + fun, may I heartily recommend Cafe Kick on Exmouth Market, which is a sports cafe. This essentially means a lot of football, many photos of men in bad shirts looking mud-splattered, much booze and, best of all, bar footie. Many, many hours have been happily whiled away playing bar footie in Cafe Kick.

Brighton, England

Jasper Kent: The Shakespeare’s Head. It has good beer (of the warm, brown variety), serves about a dozen different kinds of sausages (except Sundays – boo!) and it’s within spitting distance of me. It’s not to be confused with the other Shakespeare’s Head, on Spring Street, which is good but not as good.

Nottingham, England

Mark Chadbourn: I would certainly recommend going to The Trip to Jerusalem in Nottingham - you not only get good beer and food and good company, you also get great atmosphere and an unforgettable history lesson. The Trip is the oldest pub in Britain. You can tell that the moment you stoop through the tiny medieval doors into a maze of small rooms where you could lose yourself for quite a while. The rear part of the pub is actually carved out of the rock and there is a tunnel leading to an underground labyrinth that links vast sandstone caves running beneath Nottingham. Right overhead, Nottingham Castle towers. The Trip was founded in 1189, when King Richard the Lionheart announced the crusade against the Saracens in the Holy Land - hence the pub name. If you're looking for ghosts, there are supposed to be several here. But watch out for the locals - they may try to entice you into one of the medieval pub games, particularly swinging a small hoop on a rope on to a horn fixed to the wall. It looks simple, but is fiendishly hard - and the locals ensure a constant supply of free beer betting against unwitting visitors. It's also one of the favourite watering holes of Britain's fantasy authors, and when the annual Fantasycon is in town (usually September) you can find many of them propping up the bar. You can find out more here: http://www.triptojerusalem.com/

Mark Charan Newton: An easy one! The Alley Cafe - www.alleycafe.co.uk - in Nottingham. I'm a vegetarian; this place serves vegetarian food, locally sourced, freshly prepared, and stunning. Not only that, but the bar is funky, and has a good mix of people and ages. It's tiny though, and you end up sitting close to other people, which really shakes us Brits out of our preference for personal space. So, good food, good people, decent DJ at the weekend - what more can you want? (Don't say meat.)

Edinburgh, Scotland

Brian Ruckley: This is my kind of interview. It’s obviously absurd to try to narrow Edinburgh’s titanic array of drinking establishments down to a single recommendation, but given how long I spent on the haggis question I should probably try.I think the best I can come up with for you is the Bow Bar. There are two reasons: one, it’s a small, friendly pub with a mix of locals and visitors (but mostly locals), good beer and a startling array of whiskies if you’re into that kind of thing; two, it’s just round the corner from Edinburgh’s sf/f bookshop, Transreal Fiction, so on a rainy afternoon (it rains a lot in Edinburgh, but don’t let that put you off visiting) you can potter around the bookshop, have a chat with the owner, buy a few books and then retire to the pub to settle into a corner with a drink and read. Lovely. Also, if you lose track of time and end up drunk, there’s a chip shop within staggering distance to supply you with haggis and chips: a perfect end to a perfect day.

Glasgow, Scotland

Hal Duncan: Easy one. It has to be Stravaigin, on Gibson Street, in the West End. Funny enough, they have the_second_best_ way to serve haggis, because they're basically a gastro pub with a restaurant in the basement, and haggis is one of the staples of their menu. They tend to do a sort of Scottish fusion cuisine -- lots of game and seafood but influenced by recipes from around the world. As pub food goes, you can't beat it -- top-quality grub but in a really informal atmosphere. Also their cocktails are to die for. And I mean proper cocktails -- Bloody Mary, White Russian, Dry Gin Martini, Mojito and suchlike. None of those crappy 80s cocktails with nudge-nudge wink-wink sexy names, mixed by the pitcher from a couple of random spirits, a splash of Cointreau and a half bottle of Bailley's. No, we're talking cocktails for the committed lush. Martinis so dry you know the vermouth pretty much just got _shown_ to the gin: look, gin! Meet Mr Vermouth. Oh, dear, looks like Mr Vermouth can't stay. Bye, Mr Vermouth.Also Stravaigin is within staggering distance of my house. And I'm a very good native guide, you know. I'll show you round _all_ the best seats in the pub, for payment in the form of booze.

Dublin, Ireland

Peadar Ó Guilín: Most of them are ridiculously bad: giant sports games on every wall and pop music loud enough to murder the conversation we used to be famous for. Our ancestors even had a god of eloquence, once upon a time, did you know that? I miss him.So, for the real experience, you need to find what we call an “old man's” pub. If you walk through the door and half the stools aren't occupied by lads with pitted red noses and beer mustaches, then you should take your custom elsewhere.

New York, USA

Jeff VanderMeer: The Brandy Library in NYC that Gabriel Mesa introduced my wife and me to; because it is set up like a real library and the lighting is magnificent and the liquids contained therein are insanely amazing.

Lisbon, Portugal

Jeff VanderMeer: The Chinese Room (sic) in Lisbon, Portugal, which our friend Luis Rodrigues introduced us to, because it has more amazing airplanes and bric-a-brac while remaining sophisticated of any place on Earth. [Possibly the Chinese Pavillion – Pavilhão Chinês]

Brussels, Belgium

Jeff VanderMeer: An unnamed 16th century pub in Brussels where Ann tells me I wound up singing with a Frenchman at the top of my lungs. I don’t remember any of it, except that it was glorious.

Pilsn, Czech Republic

Jeff VanderMeer: The Pub in Pilsen, Czech Republic, where you get a tap at your table and can pour your own fresh beer—no preservatives or additives—and they have electronic scoreboards for every table at every The Pub in the country…and after four or five pints you definitely want to be at the top of the scoreboard. We spent an amazing night there with our Finnish friends Jukka, Tero, and Juha, Hal “The Wonder” Duncan, Alistair Rennie, Ian MacLeod, and several others…at the end of which I pretended to be Czech to the family from Montana at the next table.

Mark Charan Newton adds to the SFF Literary Pub Crawl

Mark Charan Newton has been kind enough to add to the SFF Literary Pub Crawl - Nottingham now has two entries.

An easy one! The Alley Cafe - www.alleycafe.co.uk - in Nottingham. I'm a vegetarian; this place serves vegetarian food, locally sourced, freshly prepared, and stunning. Not only that, but the bar is funky, and has a good mix of people and ages. It's tiny though, and you end up sitting close to other people, which really shakes us Brits out of our preference for personal space. So, good food, good people, decent DJ at the weekend - what more can you want? (Don't say meat.)

The SFF Literary Pub Crawl

It was about 2 years ago that I started my Questions Five interview series, which has had 25 participants (and more to come). I’ve always used a blend of repeat questions with questions specific to the author I’m interviewing – and all have been an attempt at humor that gives authors a chance to have fun with questions they’ve likely never seen before and blatantly plug a project.

It didn’t take long for me to begin asking questions about food and alcohol, with a favorite question that essentially asks to recommend me a pub. Probably owing to my fascination and love of the pub culture of Britain and Ireland, these questions are generally asked to authors from that part of the world – which amounts to 7 of those 25 interviews.

So, I’ve decided that it’s time to embark on a related theme – the SFF Literary Pub Crawl. I’ll share the recommendations from those interviews above – I’ll divide first by location and then by the author making the recommendation. As with any decent pub crawl, an end simply isn’t in sight, so I’ll continue to ask the question when I feel like it and I encourage all authors, editors, publicists, bloggers, and generally anyone who bothers to read this to share their recommended put to include in the SFF Literary Pub Crawl. Try to limit recommendations to just one or two and be sure to tell us why it’s a favored pub/ drinking establishment and a link if possible.

On to the pubs:

London

Joe Abercrombie: You could try the Phoenix Artist’s Bar off Shaftsbury Avenue, where a glittering array of genre writers are often to be found arguing with their editors over that most eternal of literary questions – whose round it is. It has the added advantage of being right next to several of the UKs biggest bookstores. Once you are drunk enough, I therefore recommend you stumble outside and buy any and all copies of my books that you can find. The dizzy rush of excitement you’ll experience will be far superior to anything you can get in a pub.Honest.

Kate Griffin: Well, I kinda don't drink, owing to expense and taste and the fact that I never really had much fun doing it. But I do have fond memories of the Sherlock Holmes, which is to the north of Hungerford Bridge, and the Castle on Pentonville Road has a very nice roof terrace in the summer, which almost redeems the fact that it's on the Pentonville Road. If you're after drink + fun, may I heartily recommend Cafe Kick on Exmouth Market, which is a sports cafe. This essentially means a lot of football, many photos of men in bad shirts looking mud-splattered, much booze and, best of all, bar footie. Many, many hours have been happily whiled away playing bar footie in Cafe Kick.

Brighton

Jasper Kent: The Shakespeare’s Head. It has good beer (of the warm, brown variety), serves about a dozen different kinds of sausages (except Sundays – boo!) and it’s within spitting distance of me. It’s not to be confused with the other Shakespeare’s Head, on Spring Street, which is good but not as good.

Nottingham

Mark Chadbourn: I would certainly recommend going to The Trip to Jerusalem in Nottingham - you not only get good beer and food and good company, you also get great atmosphere and an unforgettable history lesson. The Trip is the oldest pub in Britain. You can tell that the moment you stoop through the tiny medieval doors into a maze of small rooms where you could lose yourself for quite a while. The rear part of the pub is actually carved out of the rock and there is a tunnel leading to an underground labyrinth that links vast sandstone caves running beneath Nottingham. Right overhead, Nottingham Castle towers. The Trip was founded in 1189, when King Richard the Lionheart announced the crusade against the Saracens in the Holy Land - hence the pub name. If you're looking for ghosts, there are supposed to be several here. But watch out for the locals - they may try to entice you into one of the medieval pub games, particularly swinging a small hoop on a rope on to a horn fixed to the wall. It looks simple, but is fiendishly hard - and the locals ensure a constant supply of free beer betting against unwitting visitors. It's also one of the favourite watering holes of Britain's fantasy authors, and when the annual Fantasycon is in town (usually September) you can find many of them propping up the bar. You can find out more here: http://www.triptojerusalem.com/

Edinburgh

Brian Ruckley: This is my kind of interview. It’s obviously absurd to try to narrow Edinburgh’s titanic array of drinking establishments down to a single recommendation, but given how long I spent on the haggis question I should probably try.I think the best I can come up with for you is the Bow Bar. There are two reasons: one, it’s a small, friendly pub with a mix of locals and visitors (but mostly locals), good beer and a startling array of whiskies if you’re into that kind of thing; two, it’s just round the corner from Edinburgh’s sf/f bookshop, Transreal Fiction, so on a rainy afternoon (it rains a lot in Edinburgh, but don’t let that put you off visiting) you can potter around the bookshop, have a chat with the owner, buy a few books and then retire to the pub to settle into a corner with a drink and read. Lovely. Also, if you lose track of time and end up drunk, there’s a chip shop within staggering distance to supply you with haggis and chips: a perfect end to a perfect day.

Glasgow

Hal Duncan: Easy one. It has to be Stravaigin, on Gibson Street, in the West End. Funny enough, they have the_second_best_ way to serve haggis, because they're basically a gastro pub with a restaurant in the basement, and haggis is one of the staples of their menu. They tend to do a sort of Scottish fusion cuisine -- lots of game and seafood but influenced by recipes from around the world. As pub food goes, you can't beat it -- top-quality grub but in a really informal atmosphere. Also their cocktails are to die for. And I mean proper cocktails -- Bloody Mary, White Russian, Dry Gin Martini, Mojito and suchlike. None of those crappy 80s cocktails with nudge-nudge wink-wink sexy names, mixed by the pitcher from a couple of random spirits, a splash of Cointreau and a half bottle of Bailley's. No, we're talking cocktails for the committed lush. Martinis so dry you know the vermouth pretty much just got _shown_ to the gin: look, gin! Meet Mr Vermouth. Oh, dear, looks like Mr Vermouth can't stay. Bye, Mr Vermouth.Also Stravaigin is within staggering distance of my house. And I'm a very good native guide, you know. I'll show you round _all_ the best seats in the pub, for payment in the form of booze.

Dublin

Peadar Ó Guilín: Most of them are ridiculously bad: giant sports games on every wall and pop music loud enough to murder the conversation we used to be famous for. Our ancestors even had a god of eloquence, once upon a time, did you know that? I miss him.So, for the real experience, you need to find what we call an “old man's” pub. If you walk through the door and half the stools aren't occupied by lads with pitted red noses and beer mustaches, then you should take your custom elsewhere.

Mark Chadbourn Answers Qustions Five

Mark Chadbourn is a well-known SFF author in Britain who is being introduced (or perhaps re-introduced) to an American audience by Pyr. Over the years he’s been both a journalist and writer, leading to incredibly varied experiences in life, though he has settled down to an active writer’s living in the heart of a forest, indulging his passions for environmental campaigning and magic. World’s End (US, UK, Canada, IndieBound) is the first book in the Age of Misrule Trilogy with Darkest Hour (US, UK, Canada, IndieBound) and Always Forever (US, UK, Canada, IndieBound) completing the trilogy. Two related trilogies have followed – The Dark Age and The Kingdom of the Serpent in a style that Chadbourn refers to as mytho-fantasy. I really enjoyed World’s End and look forward to reading much more of Chadbourn’s writing in the future.

Thanks to Mark for taking the time to answers Questions Five.


If I were going on holiday through the Midlands and I could only visit once pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

MC: I would certainly recommend going to The Trip to Jerusalem in Nottingham - you not only get good beer and food and good company, you also get great atmosphere and an unforgettable history lesson. The Trip is the oldest pub in Britain. You can tell that the moment you stoop through the tiny medieval doors into a maze of small rooms where you could lose yourself for quite a while. The rear part of the pub is actually carved out of the rock and there is a tunnel leading to an underground labyrinth that links vast sandstone caves running beneath Nottingham. Right overhead, Nottingham Castle towers. The Trip was founded in 1189, when King Richard the Lionheart announced the crusade against the Saracens in the Holy Land - hence the pub name. If you're looking for ghosts, there are supposed to be several here. But watch out for the locals - they may try to entice you into one of the medieval pub games, particularly swinging a small hoop on a rope on to a horn fixed to the wall. It looks simple, but is fiendishly hard - and the locals ensure a constant supply of free beer betting against unwitting visitors. It's also one of the favourite watering holes of Britain's fantasy authors, and when the annual Fantasycon is in town (usually September) you can find many of them propping up the bar. You can find out more here: http://www.triptojerusalem.com/

If World’s End were a fortune cookie, what would its fortune be?

MC: 'Do not trust what you see. Nothing is as it seems'.

If this were your own fortune, how would you interpret it?

MC: That the world appears to be one way, but it's only an illusion, a collection of rules established by other people for their own benefit. If you spend your life conforming to other people's rules, you will never find good fortune. You make your own rules. Then you build a base in an extinct volcano, hire a private army and plot to impose those rules on everyone else.

Please describe one reason World’s End would inspire a reader to strip naked and run screaming into the forest?

MC: Looking at John Picacio's amazing cover alone can instill such a heightened sense of erotic delight it would have that effect on the viewer. However, as this is all about me-me-me I'll concentrate my mind on the words: World's End is all about the power of ancient days. It's about prehistoric stone circles, old gods and archetypes that still affect the modern mind, old beliefs, old mysteries, and the power at the heart of nature. It's about finding something meaningful away from the illusory attractions of the modern world. It actually really is all about stripping naked and running screaming into the forest.

Why should World’s End be the next book that everyone reads?

MC: Because if you don't read it, the powers that secretly rule our world will win. It might seem to be a fantasy story about the ancient Celtic gods returning, but it's really about the here and now and what's going on around us. Or if 'they' are listening, it's a fast-paced, high adventure with sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll...or Frank Sinatra, at least. It's a quest for meaning in a secular world. It's a tour around the mystical and prehistoric sites of Britain. It's a codebook of magic. It's a quest for meaning in a secular world. It's a commentary on the abiding influence of the ancient Celts. It's not for jaded people - it's a celebration of that time in life when emotion is acutely felt: love, friendship, betrayal, fear, yearning. It's fun. Really. (But if you do read it, you'll know who really controls the world, and why, and you'll be able to beat them. Even without a secret base and a private army.)

Kate Griffin Answers Questions Five

Catherine Webb is a Carnegie Medal-nominated author who began her writing career at 14 and has written seven books aimed at the YA audience. Now in her early 20’s and writing as Kate Griffin, A Madness of Angels is her first book aimed squarely at the adult audience, and it is something special (US, UK, Canada, IndieBound, my review). The Midnight Mayor is a sequel planned for fall 2009 (US, UK, Canada, IndieBound). Cat is a life-long resident of London, and her love of the city is clearly reflected in her writing.

Thanks to Kate for taking the time to answer Questions Five.


If I were going on holiday to London and I can only visit one pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

KG: Well, I kinda don't drink, owing to expense and taste and the fact that I never really had much fun doing it. But I do have fond memories of the Sherlock Holmes, which is to the north of Hungerford Bridge, and the Castle on Pentonville Road has a very nice roof terrace in the summer, which almost redeems the fact that it's on the Pentonville Road. If you're after drink + fun, may I heartily recommend Cafe Kick on Exmouth Market, which is a sports cafe. This essentially means a lot of football, many photos of men in bad shirts looking mud-splattered, much booze and, best of all, bar footie. Many, many hours have been happily whiled away playing bar footie in Cafe Kick.

If the A Madness of Angels were a fortune cookie, what would its fortune be?

KG: Sweet and sour chilli sauce much good makes; but be careful what you say on the telephone.

How would you interpret this fortune if it were your own? Or Catherine’s?

KG: Um. As a profound culinary truth combined with a bit of sound social advice? I mean, if I was going to wax profound, I'd say something about yin and yang, unlikely combinations being so good, about the best and worst of life combined, and maybe talk a bit about the kind of stuff we say over the telephone and how it makes us behave that might not otherwise be the case. But I think my first, short answer, was probably the best, since there's very few dishes which don't benefit much from sweet and sour chilli sauce. Particularly all those Thai starters you can get - oh, sesame prawn toast! Now if you could find a way to inscribe a fortune cookie on the surface of sesame prawn toast, I'd be gobbling that down. As it is most fortune cookies are a really disappointing event.

As for this whole Catherine Webb/Kate Griffin business... while I did consider inventing a whole alter-ego for Kate Griffin, based largely on a theme of her being an Antarctic explorer with the kung fu skills of Michelle Yeoh and the ability to speak Tagalog as a fluent second language, I quickly realised that the amount of work involved in maintaining this cover, both physical and linguistic, was probably beyond my grasp. So, after much debate, I have come to the conclusion that Cat is Kate and Kate is Cat, and they both share the same fortune cookies, are avid fans of Dr Who and the West Wing, and need to have a haircut. I am still hoping to be thrown out of various parties for Kate Griffin owing to lack of appropriate ID, but alas, no one has yet thrown a party in Kate's honour for Cat to be chucked out of, so that plan is still on hold...

What other peculiar qualities of A Madness of Angels should readers be aware of?

KG: It's magic, Jim, but not quite as we know it...

It's a fantasy book, full of sorcery, mystery, monsters, and blue electric angels, but it's also fantasy given a sharp kick into the 21st century. Magic in A Madness of Angels isn't about how well you can intone in dodgy Latin, or whether you've got a spare bit of the chalk of destiny roaming around your alchemy lab. It's fantasy that rides the top deck of the inner city bus, casts its spells in street patter and, I hope, catches enough of real life in it to make the world seem that little bit more exciting and strange than it already is. Miracles and mysteries in this happy urbanised age are no longer about sacred waters from holy springs, or green-skinned dryads hiding in trees. These days, your ring of power is made of plastic and kept at the back of a charity shop with the snow globes, and your dryads skins' are the colour of dusty metal, their lairs buried inside the street lamps that are the new urban forests. Also, while death may only be the beginning, no one ever bothered to write a survivors guide for after the event...

Why should A Madness of Angels be the next novel that everyone reads?

KG: Hopefully, because it's got a bit of everything in there for everyone. It's (I hope) funny enough to make the tired commuter smile, strange enough to make the mundane seem peculiar, real enough to catch at the memory of pretty much anyone who's ever waited for the last train on a cold night in December while wearing the wrong kind of shoes, dark enough to make the night seem long, magical enough to make the night seem brighter, and different enough to promise a flavour of something new for hopefully everyone who reads it.

And if none of that appeals to you, it's got some really sound advice on why skipping your underground fare is a bad idea, and why it's always a good idea to pack extra clean shirts when embarking on a vendetta where high voltages are involved.

Jasper Kent Answers Questions Five

Jasper Kent’s Twelve (US, UK, Canada, my review) hit the stores a couple of months ago to much fanfare – in fact it’s already been through several reprints. In Twelve Kent combines Napoleon’s invasion of Russia with Eastern European-style vampires in an excellent novel that’s part historical fiction, part horror, and part war-novel and ads up to something all its own. While it easily stands on its own, it is also the first book in a planned 5-book series titled the Danilov Quintet that will combine Russian history up to the October Revolution – the second book, Thirteen Years Later, is currently under development.

I’m very pleased that Jasper took the time to answer Questions Five (and as always, reading the author’s bio may help you understand the origin of some of my queries).

If I were going on holiday to Brighton and I can only visit one pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

JK: The Shakespeare’s Head. It has good beer (of the warm, brown variety), serves about a dozen different kinds of sausages (except Sundays – boo!) and it’s within spitting distance of me. It’s not to be confused with the other Shakespeare’s Head, on Spring Street, which is good but not as good.

Joss Whedon, Anne Rice, Steven King, Laurell K. Hamilton, Bram Stoker, and Jasper Kent each walk into a pub with their version of a vampire. What happens next?

JK: I think Anne Rice’s vampires would be a bit snobby about my voordalaki; they’d probably be sitting in the lounge bar while mine were in the saloon, spitting in the sawdust. Joss Whedon’s lot, having lived the past few decades trying to pass themselves off as good, red-blooded American vampires, would suspect mine of being commies, regardless of the geographical and chronological niceties. Dracula would want a quiet word with at least one of my chaps, regarding the unconscionable past behaviour of one Pyetr Alekseevich Romanov. Everyone would laugh at the way Joss Whedon’s creation’s face’s went all funny whenever they were about to bite anybody, with the exception of Stephen King’s, who looks funny all the time.

A fight would undoubtedly break out fairly quickly, in which Dracula would have a certain advantage in not being utterly destroyed by sunlight, but the disadvantage of being vulnerable to a bowie knife, where the rest require a wooden stake. Joss Whedon’s vampire’s might do well since their natural enemies tend to be teenagers and so wouldn’t be allowed in the pub in the first place. My boys would be looking around for anyone French to attack, but if they couldn’t find any they wouldn’t be too fussed.

Luckily, Laurell K. Hamilton’s creations wouldn’t turn up, so I wouldn’t have to reveal I know nothing of her works.

What is the algorithm of Twelve?

JK: The nature of the voordalaki came about by evolution rather than design – intelligent or otherwise. That’s to say I didn’t plan anything much in advance. If the plot requires a particular vampire facet, then they get that facet, and I have to be consistent with it from then on. It’s worked pretty well so far, but by the end of the quintet I’ll be working in a rather tight straitjacket of my own creation.

Does this algorithm allow for vampiric rats in future novels of the DANILOV QUINTET?

JK: As far as I know, for the voordalaki it’s human blood or nothing, so there would be little chance of cross-contamination with another species. On the other hand, that doesn’t preclude an entirely separate but parallel outbreak of vampirism to occur within the rat community. On the third hand, for my vampires the rule is that only a willing victim can be transformed into a vampire and thus the transformees have to be evil in the first place. Since rats are inherently incapable of evil, none could ever become one of the undead.

Why should Twelve be the next novel that everyone reads?

JK: A recent survey in the UK revealed that War and Peace is second most common book for people to say that they have read when they really haven’t (behind 1984 of all things). Twelve is the perfect book to read if you want to bluff you way through a conversation about War and Peace. Just leave out the vampire stuff and everything else is pretty much the same. Honest. And even if it’s not, don’t worry; whoever you’re talking to probably hasn’t read War and Peace either – but they’ve almost certainly read Twelve!

Hal Duncan Answers Questions Five

Hal Duncan arrived on the SFF scene a few years back with Vellum (US, UK, Canada, my review) and its sequel, Ink (US, UK, Canada). These books were much discussed, often critically acclaimed and lampooned and Vellum was nominated for the World Fantasy Award. Hal has also become known for his long and thoughtful posts/rants at his blog (did I mention that these can be long). He is certainly a vocal guy at times – so I was very happy when he agreed to participate in my Questions Five interview series. His latest book is a novella called Escape From Hell! (US, UK, Canada, my review) – a book that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Thanks again Hal and on to the questions.*


1. Hal, as a Scot, I can only assume that you eat haggis 3 or 4 times in the average day. How do you think haggis is best served?

HD: Forget all the Burns shite. Haggis with tatties and neeps (mashed potatoes and turnips -- or swedes or rutabagas, depending on where you're from) is OK, but the correct way to eat haggis is coated in batter and deep-fried as part of a haggis supper (that's haggis with chips -- or french fries, or freedom fries, depending on where you're from). Bought from a fish-n-chip shop, your haggis supper should be smothered in ketchup and eaten with your fingers straight out of the brown parcel paper it's served in. But then that's the best way to serve anything, as any Glaswegian will tell you -- coated in batter and deep-fried. If you can eat it, you can batter it and deep-fry it. Mmmm, taste that cholesterol! Feel those arteries hardening! We're the heart disease capitol of Europe, you know? And proud of it.

Oh, and you really need a glass bottle of Irn Bru to wash it down. Irn Bru is Scotland's _other_ national drink, in case you don't know; a fizzy soft drink that's got enough sugar in one can to kill five diabetics and enough caffeine in it to raise them from the dead. But it has to be a glass bottle; a can is too small, and the stuff in the plastic litre bottles just doesn't taste the same.

2. If I were passing through Glasgow on holiday and I could only visit one pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

HD: Easy one. It has to be Stravaigin, on Gibson Street, in the West End. Funny enough, they have the_second_best_ way to serve haggis, because they're basically a gastro pub with a restaurant in the basement, and haggis is one of the staples of their menu. They tend to do a sort of Scottish fusion cuisine -- lots of game and seafood but influenced by recipes from around the world. As pub food goes, you can't beat it -- top-quality grub but in a really informal atmosphere. Also their cocktails are to die for. And I mean proper cocktails -- Bloody Mary, White Russian, Dry Gin Martini, Mojito and suchlike. None of those crappy 80s cocktails with nudge-nudge wink-wink sexy names, mixed by the pitcher from a couple of random spirits, a splash of Cointreau and a half bottle of Bailley's. No, we're talking cocktails for the committed lush. Martinis so dry you know the vermouth pretty much just got _shown_ to the gin: look, gin! Meet Mr Vermouth. Oh, dear, looks like Mr Vermouth can't stay. Bye, Mr Vermouth.

Also Stravaigin is within staggering distance of my house. And I'm a very good native guide, you know. I'll show you round _all_ the best seats in the pub, for payment in the form of booze.

3. If Escape From Hell! were a fortune cookie, what would its fortune be?

HD: "Heaven is watching over you."

4. How would you interpret this fortune if it were your own?

HD: As an indication that I should take up Kung Fu and learn how to shoot a gun. And when I say "gun" I mean "assault rifle". Cause if those metaphysical motherfuckers are for real, I'm clearly in a whole heap of trouble come Judgement Day.

5. Why should Escape From Hell! be the next book that everyone reads?

HD: Because "everyone" would include Samuel L. Jackson and Laurence Fishburne, and they _really_ need to read it. This would make a fucking awesome movie with those two as the hitman and the hobo (as I say at every opportunity, in the vain hope that one or other of them will come across it in a random vanity Google). And has there ever been a movie with the two of them together? No. And should there be? Hell, yeah! That would be awesome. In fact, "everyone" would also include Sam Raimi, who should be directing _this_ instead of that Terry Goodkind TV adaptation. Hell, there's even a reporter that Bruce Campbell could play to perfection. So absolutely, this should be the next book that everyone reads.

Wait. Do you mean, like, why should they _want_ to read it? Well, just imagine how cool a balls-to-the-wall pulp action/adventure flick about a bust-out from Hell would be, especially if it were starring Samuel L. Jackson and Laurence Fishburne. That's the level of awesome I'm aiming for. Plus it's really short. You can read it in an evening, man. Piece of piss. And you _know_ you don't have time for all those weighty 500 page tomes. No, you want some good old honest-to-god pulp, just like they used to make it -- 150 pages max of pure, plot-driven, high-octane ass-kicking. You know, the title has that exclamation mark for a reason.



*this interview in comparison to Brian Ruckley’s makes me question if Scottish writers give the best interviews – it seems it may be so.

Peadar Ó Guilín Answers Questions Five

Peadar Ó Guilín is a new author hailing from Ireland. His debut book, The Inferior, has garnered critical acclaim as both a YA and science fiction novel and it kicks of the Bone World trilogy (my review). Currently available in the UK, it will be released in the US in June 2008, and will be translated to several other languages in the future. Peadar has traveled the world, learned other languages, currently lives in Dublin, and can be found immersed in discussions on an almost daily basis over at westeros.

I’m very happy that Peadar has taken the time to answer Questions Five.


If I were going on holiday to Dublin and I can only visit one pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

POG: Most of them are ridiculously bad: giant sports games on every wall and pop music loud enough to murder the conversation we used to be famous for. Our ancestors even had a god of eloquence, once upon a time, did you know that? I miss him.

So, for the real experience, you need to find what we call an “old man's” pub. If you walk through the door and half the stools aren't occupied by lads with pitted red noses and beer mustaches, then you should take your custom elsewhere.

Do you consider yourself a carnivore, herbivore, or omnivore and how does this influence your writing?

POG: Flesh, and whether or not we have a right to eat it, is something I take very seriously. Many of the stories I write are little more than laboratories where I try to work this out. The Inferior fits the bill nicely. Sure, it's all great fun, with characters running around hunting anything that can hunt them. But underneath that is a series of situations designed to explore every possible degree of carnivorousness. Is it right to eat meat? What if the creature is as intelligent as you are? What if the survival of the human race depended on you doing so? And so on. I want the readers, be they vegetarians or omnivores, to choose sides and make the hard, honest decisions for themselves.

My personal belief is that future generations will regard meat-eaters like myself as barbarians, in the same way that we now (rightfully) scorn the once respectable slavers and slave-owners in our past. But scorn is so easy from a distance and sometimes it's a writer’s job to strip that away.

How hard was it to write The Inferior without ever saying: “___ tastes like chicken”?

POG: I've been trained from an early age to overcome such challenges. Your language has no word for it, but let's just say I'm a ninja at not saying that things taste like chicken. I'm so good, I don't even think it.

Discuss one reason why The Inferior may inspire a reader to strip naked and run screaming into the forest?

Up to now, your questions have been insightful and even a little daring. But this one is pure nonsense, and worse, dangerous. Naked readers should stalk very very quietly into the forest. They should save their screaming for when something catches them.

Why should The Inferior be the next book that everyone reads?

POG: Why should 'everyone' be allowed to read such a red hot piece of excitement? Most of them couldn't handle it, and those that could, probably don't deserve it. Let them stay at home, I say, and weep, weep for the gray tedium of lives that even a glimpse of The Inferior would fill with wonder.

'Everyone' should ignore the reviews and the fact that editors from France to Japan have paid real money for the right to translate it. So what if it has great characters and world building? No, it would be best for society as a whole if 'everyone' just picked up the latest cookie-cutter SF/Fantasy/Horror and didn't become cannibals after all.

Brian Ruckley Answers Questions Five

Brian Ruckley is the author of Winterbirth (my review), the first book in a new epic fantasy trilogy that has been garnering a bit of attention lately. It’s been out in the UK for some time, but was released this month in the US as the debut book in the SFF imprint, Orbit US. Brian Ruckley was born in, raised in, and currently resides in Edinburgh after a few adventures around the world ranging from London to Borneo. The second book in The Godless World trilogy, Bloodheir, is written and planned for release in June 2008.

I’m very pleased that Brian has taken to the time to answer Questions Five – his enthusiastic answers are perfect for following the huge attention the GRRM interview has received.

Brian, as a Scot, I can only assume that you eat haggis 3 or 4 times in the average day. How do you think haggis is best served?

BR: You do know every year in Scotland several tourists who are flippant about haggis get hunted down and slaughtered like curs by howling, kilt-clad, claymore-wielding mobs, don’t you? It’s virtually a national sport.

When I was but a wee lad, I loathed haggis with a passion. I considered it a vile concoction, developed for the sole purpose of torturing children in general, and me in particular. Fast forward to 2007, and the best night out I’ve had all year was when eight or ten of us gathered at a friend’s house back in January for a Burns Supper (a noble Scottish tradition it would take too long to explain in detail). The company was good, the alcohol was flowing, ‘The Ode to the Haggis’ was delivered with enthusiasm, and the haggis itself was devoured with unseemly gusto. I long ago overcame my aversion to the “great chieftain o’ the puddin’ race”, for the simple reason that it is the finest, most characterful national dish to be found anywhere on the planet, and its offalish splendour can brush aside even the most deeply ingrained childhood trauma.

How to serve it? The first task is to select your haggis. What you really want is not one of the widely available ones that is sealed in plastic, but the proper, original form which comes encased in the pale sheath of a sheep’s stomach. Never ask your supplier exactly what bits of the sheep are used to make the filling, as the answer may render you incapable of eating the thing.

The traditional accompanying vegetables are tatties and neeps (mashed potatoes and mashed swede/turnip), and in this case you will not go far wrong by sticking to tradition. When eating haggis at home, I personally tend to leave out the neeps, and instead indulge myself with a gigantic heap of potato and parsnip, mashed together with plenty of butter and salt and pepper.

The above is not the whole story, of course. If you find yourself stumbling out of a pub in the small hours of the Scottish night, in a state of intoxication, with an urgent need for fast food and a temporary lack of interest in the potential consequences for your coronary arteries, the only way to serve haggis is coated in batter and deep fried, with a good serving of greasy chips beside it. Pretty much every fish and chip shop in Edinburgh stands ready to provide just that, as a public service.

Incidentally, the second verse of the Ode to the Haggis begins (there’s a little bit of translation involved here, for those not up on the old Scots language, which includes me):

“The groaning platter there you fill
Your buttocks like a distant hill …”

Masterful.

If I were going on holiday to Edinburgh and I can only visit one pub, which pub do you recommend and why?

BR: This is my kind of interview. It’s obviously absurd to try to narrow Edinburgh’s titanic array of drinking establishments down to a single recommendation, but given how long I spent on the haggis question I should probably try.

I think the best I can come up with for you is the Bow Bar. There are two reasons: one, it’s a small, friendly pub with a mix of locals and visitors (but mostly locals), good beer and a startling array of whiskies if you’re into that kind of thing; two, it’s just round the corner from Edinburgh’s sf/f bookshop, Transreal Fiction, so on a rainy afternoon (it rains a lot in Edinburgh, but don’t let that put you off visiting) you can potter around the bookshop, have a chat with the owner, buy a few books and then retire to the pub to settle into a corner with a drink and read. Lovely. Also, if you lose track of time and end up drunk, there’s a chip shop within staggering distance to supply you with haggis and chips: a perfect end to a perfect day.

Discuss one reason why Winterbirth may inspire a reader to strip naked and run screaming into the forest?

BR: If read backwards, very slowly and with just the right accent, certain sections of it are liable to summon the Great Old Ones from the vastly deeps or wherever they’re hanging out at the moment. Stripping your clothes off and running away screaming is a perfectly rational response to such a manifestation. That’s the most plausible reason I can think of. I’d certainly like to think it’d be an over-reaction to any perceived shortcomings in the text itself. Hopefully.

What other peculiar qualities of Winterbirth should readers be aware of?

BR: It is, to the best of my knowledge, unique amongst all fantasy novels ever published in containing the phrase ‘muculent saliva’ (I stand ready to be corrected on that, by the way). It’s also probably the best novel I’ve ever written. That’s maybe not so impressive when you consider that the only other novels I’ve ever written were done when I was still the wee lad who hated haggis (and probably were only long short stories, come to think of it, though they felt like novels at the time).

Why should Winterbirth be the next book that everyone reads?

BR: If you like Winter, it’s the book for you. If you like Summer, it’s also the book for you because it’ll remind you of all the reasons you don’t like Winter, and why Summer is a good thing. More importantly, I’ll be grateful, my publisher will be grateful, my agent will be grateful. My parents will probably be grateful, because they’re nice like that. Even my accountant’ll probably be grateful, since if no one buys the thing he’s a bit redundant. All that gratitude’s got to be worth something in the cosmic scheme of things, hasn’t it? Plus, you might like it. You never know.