Jacket copy

L.T. Host asked me in the previous post about the jacket copy, which is the description you read on the inside flap of a book.

The jacket copy...oh dear Gods...the jacket copy. You are looking at 200 words that took me a week to write.

The jacket copy is just about the last thing that gets written when a book is being produced. There's no relationship between the jacket copy and the contents of the query I submitted two years ago, except in so far as I wrote both, and they're about the same book, so there's a natural tendency to duplicate any turn of phrase that works well.

The jacket copy might be written by either the editor or the author. In my case Editor Kathleen asked if I'd like to give it a go, and she asked for 200 words.

So I wrote 200 words. Or rather, I wrote a zillion different versions of 200 words, because when the words you choose will be used by people in bookstores to decide whether or not to buy your book, you tend to become a trifle obsessive.

But this was nothing compared to the agony of writing the bio. Yes, I know it's only a smattering of words, but there is something indelibly narcissistic about describing yourself for a book cover. Also, it's a challenge to sound interesting and fun and good at killing people (in theory).

And another one...

No sooner do I post the blurbs than another one comes in. This from no less than John Maddox Roberts:

"Periclean Athens has been a long-neglected venue for historical mysteries, but Gary Corby comes through in rare style with a murder mystery tied in with the customs and the complex politics of Athens as it was approaching the peak of its glory. A good read that not only entertains but leaves the reader knowing a lot more about Classical Athens."

I have to say it's a weird feeling to receive blurbs from people whose books I've read and loved for years. Kelli of course is a recent rising star. Steven Saylor, Paul Doherty and John Roberts are all founding fathers of the ancient mystery genre.

You may have noticed tabs appear along the top of the blog, by the way. With the Grand Opening so close, I've begun to add the things that book blogs are supposed to have, such as a book page and a bio. An events page will appear real soon now.

What does an author do while waiting for his debut to release? I'm desperately trying to get the third book into shape so my early test readers can check it while I'm book touring for the first. (The second is in perfect condition and in the capable hands of Editor Kathleen.) I'm at 93,000 words on the third and almost halfway through 2nd draft. It'll need another revision before it's fit for human consumption, so there's plenty to keep me busy.

What they said about The Pericles Commission

I hope you'll allow me a brief moment of pride. It's traditional to ask other, better-known authors who write in a similar vein if they'd care to comment about one's forthcoming book. The requests are typically made by the editor, not the author, and those interested receive an Advance Reader Copy. Receiving an ARC is no obligation to blurb the book; that's only done if the reader is so inclined.

Here are the blurbs that will appear on the back cover of The Pericles Commission. The words are a delight to this debut author, but it's the names attached to the words which make me puff

out

my chest.

“The Pericles Commission is a rollicking romp through ancient Athens, with captivating characters and engrossing, suspense-filled turns as twisty as the Attic streets. Debut author Gary Corby has not only made Greek history accessible—he’s made it first-rate entertainment.”

—Kelli Stanley, award-winning author of Nox Dormienda and City of Dragons

“Gary Corby’s ambitious series debut delivers an unexpected dividend—a lively sense of humor which leavens the weighty subject matter: the messy birth of democracy in Athens, attended by riot, revenge, and, of course, murder.”

—Steven Saylor, international bestselling author of Roma

“The Pericles Commission is a most original and enjoyable interpretation of classical Athens. Corby vividly and lucidly describes the intricacies of the city . . . in this exciting saga of flesh-and-blood characters who jostle and fight, love and hate as they approach the climax of murderous intrigue.”

—P. C. Doherty

Hegesistratus of Elis

Since I'm in an icky gruesome phase, here's a quote from Herodotus. Not much I can add to this.

Hegesistratus of Elis had once been arrested by the Spartans on the charge of doing them a number of injuries of a very serious nature. Flung into prison and condemned to death, Hegesistratus, realizing, in his desperate situation, not only that his life was at stake, but that he would be tortured before his execution, dared a deed which one cannot find words adequate to tell.

He was lying with one foot in the stocks--which were made of wood reinforced with iron--and somehow managed to get hold of a knife, which was smuggled into the prison. No sooner was the knife in his hands than he contrived the means to escape--and how he did it was the bravest action of all those we know: he cut off a piece of his foot, having nicely judged how much to leave in order to pull it free. Then, as the prison was guarded, he worked a hole through the wall and escaped to Tegea, travelling at night and lying up during the day in the woods. The Spartans went out in force to try to find him, but he got clear and reached Tegea on the third night. They were astonished at the man's daring when they saw half his foot lying by the stocks and yet were unable to find him.

I'd love to know what Hegesistratus did to annoy the Spartans. Whatever, it must have been spectacular.

Herodotus say Hegesistratus got himself a wooden foot made. He later went over to the Persians during the wars and became one of their seers.

Amputation in Ancient Greece

I believe the first person to describe surgical amputation was Hippocrates, in a book called "On Joints". Hippocrates only performed amputation to stop gangrene, and even then only as a last resort. He said to cut into the bone below the boundaries of the blackening when the limb was fairly dead and has lost its sensibility. Also he was happy for the dead flesh to come away naturally, and for some small amount of bone to remain sticking out. He speaks quite calmly of the process taking 60 to 80 days.

The Greeks had no knowledge of how to perform amputation on living flesh. The big problem for the Greek doctors was loss of blood. Hippocrates does mention the use of ligatures elsewhere, but there's no mention of them used in amputation. Where he does mention ligatures he stresses the danger of gangrene. By the first century AD, a doctor called Celsus does write of both cauterizing wounds and ligature of veins.

The other likely cause of amputation was trauma. Guess what? Trauma is a Greek word. Again, the Greeks seem to have been remarkably conservative. It appears they'd rather have carried a mangled limb and risked infection than amputate. This might tell us something about the likely survival rate of amputees. Hippocrates mentions cautery, which means to apply burning heat, about ten times throughout his works, and a few of those are in reference to wounds, but never in reference to amputation. Nevertheless it seems likely to me that in the case of traumatic amputation, the wound would have been cauterized. Incredibly, they didn't use a tourniquet. The tourniquet wasn't invented until 1718!