Book Launch V3.0

The book launch for "God of Clocks" will be held at Waterstones, at the West End of Princes Street in Edinburgh. It's at 6pm on Thursday the 23rd July. Anyone who wants to come along is welcome. You can get (free) tickets by phoning Waterstones on 0131 226 2666. But you will probably have to listen to me speak, for which I apologise.

I should really be blogging more, but I never seem to get round to it. When I'm writing, I prefer to be writing fiction.

So what's happened lately?

My friend Dave got married to Karen. The wedding was held outdoors in Edinburgh's Botanic Gardens on a glorious sunny day. As Dave's best man, I had a huge amount of respect for the couple for not inviting God along.

Writing the best man's speech was difficult, I must admit. You can find hundreds of speeches if you look on the interweb, but they're all the same. Potted speeches with jokes like "giving a best man's speech is like making love to the Queen, it's a great honour but nobody wants to do it" and "the speech should last as long as the groom takes to make love... so thank you everyone, that's all I have to say." Different variations of the same speech must appear at thousands of weddings. I tried to do something a bit different, more personal. I think I got away with it without causing too much offence.

A couple of weeks ago I was asked to write the intro to a charity book called "The Small Print". The book has been written and put together by Lloyds staff and sponsored by Lloyds Banking Group. Proceeds go to the British Heart Foundation. I encourage you to find a copy, not just because its for a good cause, but because there are some great stories in there.

Unfortunately the bank didn't like the first introduction I wrote, and wouldn't publish it, so I wrote a different one. I think it was a shame not to print the original one, which reads as follows:

Given that Lloyds Banking Group staff have put this publication together, and that the bank itself is sponsoring it, I feel compelled to ask: Does this mean that someone in banking has a heart? From the recent press furore, I imagine most people would want to throw spanners at me for daring to suggest as much. Haven't bankers just ruined the world?

While it often seems that those who inhabit the uppermost tiers of our banking industry are bloodless parasites who deserve to be staked, decapitated and burned until their black hearts rot in the fourth circle of hell, we must remember that there are decent people in these companies too. People who actually care about others. This book is evidence of that.

In the following pages you will find many strange and wonderful things: a lingering ghost with one final task to accomplish; a music lover with a glass heart; a phantasm seen only in reflections; and an audacious art scam to make even Martin Creed blush (or, possibly, applaud).

Since these stories and poems demonstrate that some people in banking do have a heart, it is especially apt to note the charity they have chosen to support. The British Heart Foundation invests in pioneering research, prevention activity, and care and support for people living with heart disease. This might mean little to that tiny, elite group of fang-toothed financiers who lack the only vital organ required to benefit from such worthy endeavours, but it sure means a lot to the rest of us.

What's more, its nice to see that banks can be trusted to produce a fine publication for a good cause, even if they can't be trusted with our money.


Ok. Some people might argue that that intro is slightly critical of banks, but still... I wanted to make the point that there are good people in banking too - like the nice folks who put together that charity book - and I thought that it wouldn't have done any harm for Lloyds to have given themselves a self deprecating nod.

Nevertheless, I changed the intro. Perhaps it was too confrontational.

God of Clocks

So I received a couple of emails yesterday. One from my nice publicist, Chloe, at MacMillan, pointing me to a great review of "God of Clocks" at Strange Horizons.

About a third of the way into God of Clocks, one of the characters remarks:

"We've got two hundred men and a drunk of a god locked up in a fucking inn" (p. 129)

It is a casual remark, and the reader doesn't blink. This is a quiet day at the office for Campbell and his characters.

Before I get on to talking about what an exuberant, bloody and brilliant novel this is I need to first point out that God of Clocks is the final volume of the Deepgate Codex, concluding the trilogy that began with Scar Night (2006) and was continued by Iron Angel (2008). (There is also a related and now sold out novella, Lye Street (2008), from Subterranean Press.) And yet, I like it.

The other email was from my agent, Simon, wishing me a happy release day. The book officially went on sale in the UK yesterday, but I'd been too busy writing the next one to notice.

Actually, the next book had been a bit of a head-scratcher until this last week. I knew the story I was writing, and I knew the characters, but I wasn't sure if I'd begun it in the best place. Something didn't feel right. Something was missing. But then I had one of those little ideas that clicked neatly into the place and the whole thing suddenly started to gather momentum. And now it's galloping along, and I feel good. All in all, it's been a fine week.