Let’s start with an introduction: Who is Rjurik Davidson?
That sounds like an existential question. The kind of thing that Jean Paul Sartre would spend his time contemplating. We are what we do, Sartre would have responded. As for me, I’ve always tried to live a varied life, and have done many jobs. One of my qualities is curiosity. I love learning new things. There’s too much to know in this world. My interests include from quantum physics, ancient history, political theory, psychology and psychoanalysis. I’ve lived around the world (Australia, the US, Europe), worked as a cook, clerk, lecturer, and builder. I speak French, though unevenly. I love to see things I’ve never seen before. I love to meet unusual people. I’m very loyal but don’t often forgive people who have treated me poorly.
Your debut, Unwrapped Sky, will be published in paperback by Tor in the UK, in March 2015. How would you introduce the novel to a potential reader?
Unwrapped Sky sits somewhere between fantasy and science fiction, in a little subgenre sometimes called the New Weird. It’s set in the fantastic city of Caeli-Amur, which is something like an industrial version of Ancient Rome. Steam trams chug along the streets. A ruined forum lies close to a huge arena. Three dictatorial Houses rule the city. It’s filled with strange wonders. Ancient Minotaurs arrive for the traditional Festival of the Sun and New-Men bring wondrous technology from their homeland. Hideously disfigured Wastelanders stream into the city and strikes break out in the factory district. Continue reading



I was going to write about some of my non-book influences for this guest blog. There are a lot of them – the video game Dragon Age, which pretty much singlehandedly reinvigorated my love of high fantasy; the TV show Farscape, partly responsible I suspect for my obsession with snippy banter and weird creatures; and Labyrinth, of course – what fantasy fan of my age wasn’t influenced by Labyrinth? And then I remembered a conversation I had way back when The Copper Promise was a tiny wee novella. Someone asked me if I’d named Lord Frith after the god of rabbits in Watership Down. I laughed, because if anyone would object to being named after the god of rabbits it’s probably my grumpy Lord Frith, and then I stopped laughing, because I realised I had done exactly that. Not entirely consciously, but then Watership Down has been with me for a very long time, and I have over the years noted it cropping up in tiny ways in lots of things I did. For me, Watership Down was a film before it was the book – I love the book very much, but if you really wanted to mess with my head as a very small child, you needed to come in the form of a cartoon. 




