The Parsina Saga came about because I'm a great fan of Broadway
musicals, and Kismet is my single favorite show. (Which is all
the more odd because it wasn't written by Stephen
Sondheim, the greatest talent ever to write in the American musical
theater.) I also have fond memories of The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad,
back from the days when movie theaters ran Saturday afternoon children's
matinees. I'm convinced that there's a large audience for the exotic Arabian
Nights type of fantasy.
In the late 70s, I looked around at the non-horror fantasy being published,
and it seemed almost all of it fit into one of two categories: either
European mythology (Tolkien and those who followed) or Unnamed Barbarian
Cultures (a la Robert E. Howard and the Conan mold). There was a whole
world of mythology being totally ignored.
I wanted to rectify that. I wanted to write stuff about genies in bottles
and flying carpets and other elements with a high Sense-of-Wonder Quotient.
Over the course of several years, I worked out a world-spanning, multi-volume
story with some appealing characters. To fuel the fire, my first wife,
Kathleen, bought me a complete set of the Sir Richard Burton translation
Arabian Nights (plus Supplemental Nights). The dreams took shape.
The Arabian Nights is, of course, a piece of Islamic literature. Having
studied Islam for a bit, however, I confess I found it (personally) a
rather boring religion, not nearly dynamic enough to go with the high
Sense of Wonder I wanted to achieve here. So I studied the religion that
preceded Islam in Persia, Zoroastrianism, and found it much more to my
taste. It has some interesting precepts, such as "As much as you possibly
can, do not bore your fellow man." It's as sexist as all the other religions
that sprouted in that part of the world, but I'm trying to play down that
aspect as much as possible.
I originally conceived the project as a 5-book series: the first book
to set everything up, and books 2-5 each about the quest for one of the
four pieces of the Crystal of Oromasd. The 5th book would also wrap up
the entire series. But when Ace Books bought the series, they wanted it
remolded into a trilogy. I had to rethink the entire structure of the
piece, and redesign the break points between the various books.
When Ace failed to publish the first two books in a timely manner, I
pulled the series from them and sold it to Bantam. That was fine, except
Bantam thought the series would work best as four books! Once again
I had to redesign the break points between the books. (If the stopping
point of the second volume seems a little strange, blame it on this constant
redesigning.)
The first three books saw print in the mid-80s with covers by Richard
Bober, some of the most beautiful art I've ever seen on any book cover.
I'd made a good start on the fourth book when a number of unrelated factors
out of "real life" hit me all at once. No one of them was crippling by
itself, but the cumulative effect of all of them was to take me away from
the keyboard for quite some time. Bantam, quite understandably, canceled
the contract and returned the rights to the books to me.
The books languished for several years and my poor readers suffered,
not knowing the outcome. I know precisely how they feel, because I've
been the victim of getting hooked by uncompleted series, myself. (I'm
a Twin Peaks fan, and I follow Roger MacBride Allen's Lost Earth
series.) I know what the frustration feels like.
(And I'd like to say a public thank-you to European fan Basile Grammaticos
for pointing out to me the fact that there are no appreciable tides in
the Mediterranean [and hence the "Central"] Sea. I've corrected
this mistake in the current editions.)
The Bantam first editions of the first three books (with the beautiful
Richard Bober covers) are available for sale at Parsina
Press. And if you're looking for some other way to capture the exotic
flavor of this series, I have some suggestions:
Get yourself a copy of the Broadway show album of Kismet and
listen to the lush music by Alexandr Borodin, the clever lyrics of Robert
Wright and George Forrest, and the mellifluous voice of Alfred Drake.
Find out whether Kismet is playing in your area, and go see
it if it is. (Chances are, though, that it isn't; it requires singers
of operatic quality, who aren't always available to local groups. Not
to mention fairly elaborate costumes and set design. It's not as easy
to stage as The Fantastics.)
Rent the video of the MGM movie Kismet starring Howard Keel.
They cut some of the music and rearranged a little of the story, but
it's still pretty good.