John Howe :: Illustrator [News]
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- BLADES IT IS
RECLAIMING THE BLADE While it's clear that swords are nasty sharp pointy things designed exclusively for poking holes in people when it's not lopping bits off them, they are nonetheless an intergral part of our cultural heritage. I don't consider myself an expert on anything much, so I was quite surprised when a company called Galatia Films got in touch and asked if I would do a little filmed interview for a production called "Reclaiming the Blade". "Never!" I... - BEST WISHES FOR 2007
Any milestone is worth taking these days, even the ones we all ineluctably see pass by at the year's end and beginning. May 2007 be kind to us all. - SONG-FIELDS AND SUMMER-LANDS
I can't sing. Or rather, I can, but birds drop out of the sky and trees lose their leaves in dismay. (I do sing, loudly and tunelessly, in the car, but the mechanic says it's bad for the spark plugs.) Music is beyond my grasp. - STRASBOURG DEC. 16, 2006
I'll be signing books (and whatever is thrust under my nose) in Strasbourg from 14h30 to 16h30 this Saturday the 16th, at a new bookshop called KAO BANG, dedicated exclusively to fantasy, 34 rue du Jeu des Enfants, 67000 Strasbourg. (That's in the centre of town, a few minutes from the Place Kleber and about 10 minutes from the train station.) VERY exceptionally, there will be both HarperCollins poster sets for sale: IMAGES OF MIDDLE-EARTH and MYTH & MAGIC. (For as long as... - ROOTS
When people ask me if I miss Canada, I reply "Not at all, it's a great place to be from." "The key word is from." I often add helpfully, just in case they did not get my drift. Speaking of drift, I remain a willing exile from my home and native land ad mare usque ad mare True North strong and free and all that. Nevertheless, I renew my passport with diligent regularity and I can even remember most of the national anthem (which has to be one of the most mercifully... - A SHORT PILGRIMAGE
I love driving north through Champagne. The vinyards peter out, replaced by wide rolling fields and finally steeper slopes and forest fill the horizon. The Ardennes*. There are too many trucks and tractors on the road and an excess of road works and I'm in a hurry. For a while, the sun makes an appearance, but thankfully it's brief. I want grey skies when I skirt Charleville-Mézières and reach the river Meuse. Rain would be fine too, but no shadows and blue skies, please, that wouldn't do... - THE BOY WHO GREW UP AND THE MAGIC LAUNDRY BASKET
I have a grown-up son. Naturally, this didn't happen overnight although I am seriously questioning my notions of time and how it's perceived. It won't come as a surprise to other parents with grown-up kids that it DID seem like yesterday he was a toddler. The reverse side of the coin is that of course this is of NO interest to any other category of the population, category which is invited back in a couple of weeks for the upcoming newsletter which, after stone giants and fairy tale... - KING OF THE CASTLE
I'm sure it's no secret how much I enjoy the company of castles. In a former life, I'd happily imagine myself king of some regal keep - though it's more likely I'd have been a beggar at the gates. Haut-Knigsbourg is a castle I've always loved, ever since happenstance deposited me in the Alsace and I first saw it three decades ago. (Three decades - the space of a deep breath for a place like that.) Haut-Knigsbourg is a massive pile of red sandstone occupying a summit in the... - A LETTER FROM LEIPZIG
I'm writing this in Leipzig, next to the Völkerschlachtdenkmal, quite content to be here, having set off across town unable to even pronounce the interminable name, even less remember more than one or two syllables. (My mastery of German still means I systematically pull doors marked "drücken" and end up running into the ones marked "ziehen".) Thankfully, it is visible from afar. Also, I am writing blissfully unencumbered by any knowledge of my subject, at whose foot... - RAVENS, RHINOS, RUINS & RUST
I have masses and masses of documentation. Likely enough to be convicted of collusion in the untimely death of a decent-size grove of trees. The wall behind the computer has a daunting set of shelves containing well over 100 drawers, all filled with photos I've taken, photocopies and pictures cut out of books (no, NOT books people lend me, rest assured, unless of course they forget to ask for them back) and magazines of every kind. [zoom]...
