If I ever needed an undeniable confirmation that I was not writing in vain, I finally got it.
I am sure you’ll be delighted to read this strange and beautiful account.
If I ever needed an undeniable confirmation that I was not writing in vain, I finally got it.
I am sure you’ll be delighted to read this strange and beautiful account.
Here is a photo taken last night in the Absinthe Bar in Belgrade (where, yes, absinthe and other exotic drinks are served). The bar was the setting of the first episode (“The Book of Laughter and Forgetting”) of the new Amarcord TV series (based on my new book of the same title), being produced by an independent producer for a Serbian TV company.
My story, “The Alarm Clock on the Night Table” (from Steps Through the Mist), will be read by Anna Massey on digital radio station BBC 7 at 6:30 p.m. UK time on Sunday, March 11. It is part of a series called Fantastic Tales.
I am honored to announce that the Aio Publishing hardcover edition of my mosaic novel Seven Touches of Music has taken top honors at the 55th Annual Chicago Book Clinic Book and Media Show on November 9th.
The design won the Award of Excellence in the General Trade Category. The Book and Media Show honors excellence in the planning, supervision, and execution of the physical and visual aspects of publishing in all genres across fourteen U.S. states. The General Trade Category heads the list of thirteen award categories.
[…]
Book printer McNaughton & Gunn, Inc., which prints more than 6,000 titles per year and manufactured Seven Touches of Music as well as Ian R. MacLeod’s novel The Summer Isles, which took top honors in the general trade category at the 2005 Chicago Book Clinic Book and Media Show, nominated the book for the award.
The design was produced in-house by Aio publisher Tiffany Jonas and art director Patrick Jonas. It was the company’s second book design. Incorporating a supple European-styled, premium-grade Skivertex cover in a deep charcoal color custom-mixed for this cover, foil embossing in black and green, and ridged black end sheets as well as black-edged interior paper, the novel was produced using animal-friendly materials and recycled, acid-neutral paper.
I am pleased to announce that Hidden Camera has been reviewed for the December 26 issue of The New Yorker:
“This was only a hidden camera episode, after all; everything was under control, nothing bad could happen,” Zivkovic’s nameless narrator says, trying to soothe himself amid the spiralling surrealities of this mystery novel. After receiving an invitation to a movie screening, he finds himself next to an enigmatic woman, watching a film of the two of them sitting on a park bench. This is the first in an increasingly outlandish chain of events, as the narrator follows a trail of invitations across a darkened cityscape. His growing paranoia leads him to suppose that he is the victim of a hidden-camera prank for television, and he starts to behave as if his every action were being filmed. Zivkovic’s unexpected dénouement, however, gestures toward a far stranger, possibly mystical, cause.