Pacific State, my second novel in the Sundown Cycle, is up and running, and it seems to be quite the hit among reviewers both of the print persuasian and the garden variety. Foreword Magazine was effusive in its praise and rating (5/5), stating:
the book excels at worldbuilding, dropping evocative hints at the full scope of its dystopia. It’s peppered with slang references to foodstuffs, new technology, and organized crime that pique interest in its wider world. It mixes oracular pronouncements with striking descriptions in prose that is stylish and sometimes beautiful, as when a building is described as having a “dreadnought silhouette” that creates “a negative space in an overcast sky,” or with notes about “sodium-lit streets” and a “spit-shined moon hung up on display.”
Then we have reviewers such as The Dragon’s Cache (nice), who picked up on all kinds of throwaway world-building elements, which I find wonderful, ultimately declaring that “Price…decries our casual disregard for climate change, reminds us of the dangers of unrestrained commerce, and argues that risking our lives to stamp out cruelty can be a noble cause.”
Another fun one is Pagefarer, who sums up what we’re all thinking by writing, “It’s a great book. It’s tightly written, full of believable and three-dimensional characters, and the worldbuilding is excellent.”
Also, a special shoutout to….this cool guy for describing the novel as follows: “it's like Gibson and Stephenson had a brainchild and it's all chromed up in neon and existential dread.” Very nice indeed.
ELSEWHERE…
I wrote a short article for the website of Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author Mary Robinette Kowal about my favourite aspect of Pacific State. This is my second appearance on the site, with my first entry waxing lyrical on the use of flashbacks in everyone’s plucky post-apoc champ, By the Feet of Men. This time around, I’m in a more linguistic mood as I discuss a shorthand, corporate-only language I conceived for the novel called Whicolla. As always, I tie it into the climate crisis, because we’re still sleepwalking to our collective doom.
