Page 17 of Balook


  We tried the summary elsewhere, but editors seem to have a conspiracy: once one bounces a project, all the rest do. The novel, like the story, was moribund. Finally I retired it and the statue, both unfinished, with deep regret. The manuscript was secure in its folder, but my little girl had trouble understanding why I wouldn't let her play with the unused sculptor's wax. Then we moved, and parts got lost, and an ear got knocked off. The figurine was in a bad way. Today both front legs are missing, and one hind hoof; Balook can not stand, and his head rests separately beside his body. My dream of casting him in silver is ashes. Similarly, it seemed, I lost touch with Sterling Lanier; his marriage was in trouble and he had health problems. I looked at the battered Balook figure and I grieved for the misery it signified on every level. The thoughtless, unfeeling universe seemed the same outside the novel as inside it.

  So it continued until the year 1986, twenty years after the story. My career had taken its twists and turns and abruptly leaped into high success via fantasy; I no longer had need to consider money when tackling a project. The blacklist was a thing of the past; I had survived it better than some of the blacklisting editors, which I think is simple justice. I was computerized, and zeroing in on word processing programs that served my needs with increasing accuracy. I had labored to place several of those eight unsold novels, and succeeded; only about three remained, and BALOOK, which didn't count because it had never been completed.

  I entered a dialogue with a small publisher, Underwood-Miller, who was interested in publishing Anthony but of course unable to compete with the big outfits in terms of the large advances I now commanded. But as I trust I have made plain, money is not my overriding consideration. I suggested three projects that I might do simply because I liked the projects, money no object. One of them was BALOOK. This novel differed from some others in that I had a high visual involvement; I saw Balook, and wanted others to see him too. So we discussed artists, and I named the one I deem to be the best genre artist in the world, Patrick Woodroffe of England. The publisher agreed.

  I mentioned word processing programs. I had discovered one called FinalWord that promised to be even better for me than my prior ones, and just had to try it, because in this as in writing itself I always try for the best. But it was complex, and not perfectly adapted to my system or my Dvorak keyboard; it would be a monster to break in. So I decided to use a story and a short novel to break it in; once I have novelized a thing, I really understand it. The story was "Imp to Nymph," which I retyped for the Program Book for the 1987 World Fantasy Convention. The available novel was BALOOK.

  And so, at last, I returned to Balook, taking one month early in 1987 to complete it as I wrestled with the computer program, and this is the story of this illustrated novel. I hope that you, the reader, have enjoyed it—but even if you didn't, I did. Balook lives at last!

  Copyright © 1990 by Piers Anthony.

  Illustrations and Cover art Copyright © 1990 by Patrick Woodroffe.

  ISBN: 0-441-00398-2

 


 

  Piers Anthony, Balook

 


 

 
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