Announcing ‘Western Front – The New Zealand Division 1916-18′

My book Western Front – The New Zealand Division 1916-18  is being re-released this week – precisely a decade on from its original print publication – by Intruder Books. With an all-new cover.

Wright_Western Front_450pxThis was an important book for me, the first of three I wrote exploring the psychology of warfare through the lens of the First World War and the New Zealand experience.

A century on, we usually imagine the First World War in terms of its Western Front – portrayed as a grey, muddy world of trenches, wire, machine guns, whizz-bangs, artillery, and senseless death.

It was all these things. But the real question is why. Did it really happen because foolish generals knew nothing better? That they hoped that the enemy might run out of machine gun bullets before they ran out of men?

Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth – certainly as far as the New Zealand experience was concerned. And exploding some of the myths is what Western Front – The New Zealand Division 1916-18 is really about.

Review comments about the original issue included:

“An immensely readable story”
– Denis Welch, New Zealand Listener, 7 May 2005.

“Readers of this excellent book will thank God and hope that such a war will never come again…”
– Des Bell, Northern Advocate, 30 May 2005.

“This is an excellent read, factual, often emotional and simply written. It should appeal to all New Zealanders”
– Graeme Cass, Hawke’s Bay Today, 2 July 2005.

Western Front – The New Zealand Division 1916-18 is the second in a series of releases by Intruder Books, initially featuring the military books I wrote between 1998 and 2007. The first, Kiwi Air Power, is also available. And there’s more to come.

You can buy your copy right now, direct on Kindle – click on the cover.

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

Anticipating the next trend in book cover styles

I recently dug out some of the military histories I wrote in the late 1990s-early 2000s, largely because Intruder Books are reissuing some of them and I wanted to check out the old cover designs. Not to use those covers again – the license isn’t available – but to remind myself how they looked, way back when, and just how far styles have changed.

I commissioned the artwork for the cover of my 1998 book on the RNZAF. I still have the original painting. That meant I also had license to use it on the cover.

I commissioned the base artwork for the cover of my 1998 book on the RNZAF, which Reed NZ’s designer used as the basis for this cover. I still have the original painting.

A lot of that change, I think, flows from the way new technology provokes new styles. Actually, that was happening even before software oozed into the process.

Wright - Kiwi Air Power 200 px

Same book – 2015 cover. Click to buy. Go on, you know you want to…

Way back, sci-fi book covers were bright yellow and plain, in which case they were published by Victor Gollancz. Or they were traditional for the day – a cover painting (sometimes full colour), usually by Ed Emshwiller, with often hand-lettered title at the top and the author’s name at the bottom. Just like every other book on the planet, except that the sci-fi featured a spaceship or googly monster or something.

Then, around the turn of the 1970s, a young British artist named Chris Foss cut loose with an airbrush and a new concept – multi-faceted, amazingly detailed fantasy spaceships floating on abstract clouds. And he set a trend. As in: Bam! A Trend! Three milliseconds after Foss’s artwork adorned the Panther editions of Asimov’s Foundation ‘trilogy’ (it was in the 1970s), every sci-fi book cover on the planet suddenly featured fantastic, multi-faceted, hugely detailed spaceships floating against billowing backgrounds.

This book of mine was pretty hard to structure - took a lot of re-working via the 'shuffle the pages' technique - to get a lot of social linear concepts into a single readable thread.

Superb, superb design

For me, the best cover ever designed for any of my books remains the one Penguin commissioned from an Auckland designer for Guns and Utu. Just awesome. (Want a copy? Email me.)

Today’s covers are all Photoshop layer blend and SFX effects, which I can usually spot from about half the distance of Jupiter (I began working professionally with Photoshop in 1988…) Every cover on Amazon has a sameness which I just know has been done with Photoshop layer blends in various flavours. Sigh…

I’m determined this over-use of glow won’t happen for the New Zealand Military series I wrote from 1997 to 2009, half a dozen titles of which are due to be re-released by Intruder Books over the next two years. Layer clipping paths? Sure. But not glow. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, the next release is coming up in time for ANZAC day. Western Front: The New Zealand Division 1916-18. A tenth anniversary reissue, in fact. Watch this space.

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

Writing inspirations – walking on the stones of years

Rugged beaches are amazingly inspiring places. The sea brings chaos to the stones, artfully displaying them in ways that almost look crafted, then layers them with the detritus of distant places. It leaves us wondering about where that debris came from, and how it ended up just there before your feet.

Beach stones, Makara, New Zealand.

Beach stones, Makara, New Zealand.

I think that’s pretty inspiring for any writer. And does anybody know what I am getting at with the title of this post?

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

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Writing inspirations – the wonder of Packard

When I think of classic American art deco cars it’s hard to go past the Packard Six. It was stylish, well-engineered, and set the look for the age. Think it looks a bit like a Morrie Thou? Well, that’s no coincidence.

A 1935 Packard Six, immaculately restored, Napier, New Zealand.

A 1935 Packard Six, immaculately restored, Napier, New Zealand. Sir Alec Issigonis styled the Morris Minor after its descendant, the 1941 Packard Clipper.

I spotted this one during the annual ‘art deco’ weekend in Napier, New Zealand. And it got me thinking. That celebration is light-hearted, owing more to Hollywood fantasy images of the 1930s than the reality of the day. But wouldn’t it have been just wonderful if the 1930s had really been like that! A thought to inspire.

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

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History you can touch – now available in North America

New Zealand has a short history by world standards – the first humans to even reach these shores did not arrive until around 1280. But it is unquestionably an interesting past – particularly once we get into the so-called ‘historical’ period after 1840, when British and Maori came into collision.

St Alban's Church at Pauahatanui, near Wellington - site of a major pa in 1845.

St Alban’s Church at Pauahatanui, near Wellington – site of a major pa in 1845.

Open warfare flared between 1845 and the early 1870s, from Northland to the northern South Island. That is virtually yesterday by historical standards, and that makes those events a history we can touch. The more so because many of those events were not in remote bush locations – but in places we can see and touch. The Battle of Boulcott Farm, for instance, was in the middle of what is today suburban Lower Hutt. The bush pa of Titokowaru, Te Ngutu o te Manu, became the Hawera District Council camping ground. Really! The Battle of St John’s Wood, in Whanganui, became a supermarket. Gate Pa is, these days, a Tauranga bowling club lawn. Te Rangihaeata’s pa at Pauatahanui became a churchyard. And so it goes on.

The cover of my next book.

The cover – click to go to Amazon

It is a salutary reminder of the way history gets forgotten that these places – used daily by ordinary Kiwis – have such a dramatic past. And that’s why I made a point, in my latest book on the New Zealand Wars, of highlighting some of the easier places to get to. We should. History comes alive if we can visit the terrain – and history this recent should not be forgotten.

The New Zealand Wars – a brief history is my third book on the subject. And it’s been released this week, in print, for the North American market. Which I think is pretty cool.

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

Writing inspirations – little house I used to live in

I used to live in one of the houses in this photo, on the south edge of Karori Park in Wellington, New Zealand. I won’t say which – it’s thirty years since I was there and I have no idea who lives there now. But I remember the place, and I remember being able to look out on the park while I tapped out my thesis on my mechanical typewriter, and Madonna got into the groove on the stereo.

Little house I used to live in...

Little house I used to live in…

The ‘Young Ones’ were still showing on New Zealand TV. And, on the other side of the park, Katherine Mansfield’s childhood home still stood. Actually, it’s still there now.

I’d already written my first books, as part of what amounted to an internship with the New Zealand Forest Service. But I had no idea where that might lead. Or whether I might ever really write professionally, though even then, that was what I wanted to do.

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015

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Is vandalism part of the human condition?

I have a small gripe. Vandals keep tagging a power pole just along from where I live. Marking territory, animal-fashion. It happens every few weeks. The local council always has it painted out within the day; but it highlights what, for me, is one of the saddest sides of the human moral compass.

From http://public-domain.zorger.comVandalism. If somebody has something, it seems – even something as simple as a nicely painted power pole in a quiet suburban street – somebody else wants to break it, take it away or deny it to them. Anything humans have, it seems, is targeted in its own way. Take computing. Visionaries like Bill Gates and Sir Tim Berners Lee had a concept for a wonderful and better human world, connected by computer. So what happened? Other people wrote software to damage, steal, or cause inconvenience to users. Vandalism! Somebody trying to take away what you have – these days, usually the contents of your bank account.

I see the same phenomenon in the way academics always respond to others in their territory by denying the worth of the other’s skills and work – vandalising repute in intellectualised terms. To me that is conceptually no different from the way imbeciles with paint cans performed – it’s designed to take away something that somebody else has.

It’s been common enough through history. And it always works the same way:

1. “Someone’s got something I don’t have, so I have to show I’m better by breaking it or taking it off them.”
2. “I am marking my place and showing I am more important than others.”
3.”I feel validated by doing so.”

The motives, in short, are entwined with ego, status anxiety, and with validating a sense of self. Most human actions are. However, vandalism is a selfish form of self-validation.  It validates by taking away from others. To me this the exact reverse of the way we should behave.

In fact there are other – and better – ways of validating yourself. Helping others, for instance – being kind, taking a moment to help.

If we work together to build, isn’t that better than trying to tear down what others do? It is the difference between selfishness (vandalism) and generosity (kindness).  Bottom line is that kindness is the better path. And I think that, through history, there are times when society in general has taken that kinder path – overtly and obviously. But right now, as we roll into the twenty-first century, isn’t one of them. And I think we need to change that – to nurture kindness by taking the initiative – by expressing kindness, even in small ways, to each other.

I’ve said all this before, of course, but it’s worth saying again. Your thoughts?

Copyright © Matthew Wright 2015