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July 10th, 2001

Dear Nicola, I'm the reader from Italy... I lose your site, so I didn't answer your answer... Melodrammatic: my error (english is very hard to speak!!!!), "melodrammatico" it's italian everyday form for "too much drammatic"... I think your book is great but: (chapter 1/11) Aud is a hard bodyguard, then (chapter 12) she leaves Julia going away... lonely... why? In italian, the Julia death scene is 16 pages long... too much, don't you think? Why the agony? If a killer wants someone dead he shoots a bullet in face, right? For Julia, it wasn't so...

Anyway a mine curiosity: you're european, what you think when you read your books as "lesbian books"? How you can say a book has sexual preferences? You can talk about a book is good or bad, it's a thriller, sci-fi and/or something else but talking about sexual preference, well, it's too much funny!!!!

Bye,
Livio.

It's always tempting with questions like this to answer you point by point, explaining my reasoning and showing you where I believe you have misread my work but the fact of the matter is that this is how you perceive my novel, and either it worked for you or it didn't. If I didn't do a good job of explaining in the text why and how things happened and what it means, then what I do or don't say here doesn't matter. I do agree with you, though, on the "lesbian book" question: there's no such thing. In fact I wrote a whole rant about that a few years ago; it's probably in the Ask Nicola archives somewhere. Fiction can have thematic lesbian sensibilities, perhaps (this is arguable), but pointing to something and calling it a Lesbian Novel is amusing rather than useful.

July 10th, 2001

HI I just finished The Blue Place. I loved it! (I admit the ending made me sad) I can't wait to read Ammonite! It was wonderful to read a book with a love story with two women. I didn't know books like that existed. If you could suggest other books like it I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks

If it's just the two-women-in-love stuff you're after, then there are any number of books out there. There are so many, in fact, that you can subdivide them into several genres: romance, coming out, mysteries, science fiction, picaresque, urban angst, post-modern, regencies, even westerns.... Some are better than others. If all this is new to you, I'd suggest picking up a couple of the classics, such as Patience and Sarah by Isabel Miller, Ruby Fruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown, or Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeannette Winterson. All of these are first-love novels, and necessarily about young women. If you're looking for something a bit more sophisticated and set in years past--though still about first love--then try Violette Leduc or Sarah Waters. If you want things a bit more acidic, then there's Sarah Schulman and Florence King. For lesbian fiction in the south, there's Blanche McCrary Boyd and Dorothy Allison. For crime fiction there's Laurie King's series, which begins with Grave Talents, or J.M. Redmond's, which includes The Intersection of Law and Desire.

The problem, as I see it, with most of these novels is that they're largely about being a lesbian. If one of the things you liked about The Blue Place was that the fact that Aud is a dyke is unremarkable, then these books might not be for you.

July 10th, 2001

Dear Nicola,

I have read ammonite and I'm delighted that I found such a profound author. (right now I'm really sick so my head isn't all that clear;I haf the flu.)I managed to scrounge up enough money in change to buy all your other books. So that you become rich! <g>

As charles dicken said, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." From decade to decade that's how it is. One has to believe in what is right, moral/ethical and good for himself. Whether an evironmentalist, a Politician, or rarified octogenarian! That means to me a fair and just trial. But, (sigh) in our system, our government one can err too far and the results are officious, know-it-all diplomats. (Maybe I need to catch up on the news again.) But, what do I know? How is it that you write with such lesbian power! Wow, the dynamics are inconcievable!

Why, you could take feminism to the next level! Am I sounding trite, Impracticable? I'm proud of you, Nicola and I respect you for who you are.

live well and prosper. haha! take care!

And thank you for churning out Great books! I look forward to future novels, essays, and non-fiction novels

God Bless!

-Juan R

If I'm reading you correctly, you like my books because the characters are true to themselves and they're not perfect--or if they are more or less perfect, they have the grace to get themselves killed off before they become too tedious. The biggest exception to this, of course, is Thenike in Ammonite. Maybe I should write a sequel, just to remedy that .

July 10th, 2001
From: George Pascual, ares1996@aol.com

Hi- When The Blue Place was first published, I read a review in the Village Voice here in New York. I knew then I had to read the book when it appeared in soft-cover.

I was impressed. In fact, I knew in advance that I would be. I'm also glad that you're bringing Aud back in more books. I was hoping you would.

I've been meaning to write to you this way for a while. I'm sorry it took this long. I wanted to tell you that I think you're a great author and that your writing moves people. It moves ME. That's why I also wanted to tell you that you should keep writing. We'd be very sad if you stopped.

Thanks

Don't worry: I'm not about to stop writing. In the long term it would be a bit like stopping breathing; I don't think I could survive.

The death of my sister, though, is making me re-examine my writing. More specifically, I've been coming to the conclusion that I don't write enough fiction. I spend too much time thinking, trying to shape my fiction consciously, and not enough time just doing. I'm tired of having a tight-faced, sharp-clawed censor sitting on my shoulder whispering, "Oh, that's no good. Oh, no one will like that. Oh, you won't be able to sell that," and so on. So I'm embarking on an experiment: to just sit down and write, and save the thinking for when the first draft is done. In this way, I hope to visit more interesting and possibly adventurous places: emotional, stylistic, and thematic.

July 10th, 2001

Hello. I have, for a while, been trying to write a fantasy fiction/adventure story. I enjoy writing very much but am having trouble thinking of an appropriate plot or storyline. The ones I seem to come up with have either no direction or,when I read over them again, I find that they simply arent interesting enough. I have, so far, only come up with an opening few paragraphs and I am completely stuck.

I was wondering if you might have some tips to help get me started?Much gratitude,
Rach.

I tried to write my first novel when I was twelve. I had one of those little note pads you put by the phone that I carried around in my pocket, and during class I'd whip it out and scribble in it, having the best time writing about a girl (who, coincidentally, was about twelve) who discovers this little old shop in a little old village where she buys something magical. I had read about ouija boards and planchettes but had no idea what they were--I had this vague idea that a planchette was made of wire and crystal and did spooky things. It sounded cool, anyway, so I had my heroine buy one. Naturally, it took her to another time and place--that looked extremely like Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire around the fifteenth century. Once I'd finished describing the purchase of this thing, then the general scariness of travelling through the void, then the beauty of the abbey and its river (yep, some of my writing traits appeared early), I hadn't a clue what to do or where to go. I had her run about a bit, do a few things, but really it was make-work. I knew it. After filling about fifty of these tiny pages I gave up. A few weeks later I threw it away.

What I learnt from this experience (although it took me about fifteen years to figure it out) is that just because I want to write about something--the play of light on a waterfall, how it feels to break your toe, the smell of freshly cut grapefruit or the blood of your lover spilling in your hands--doesn't mean I have a story to tell about it. If you're stuck on your fantasy novel, it may well be that you just don't have a fantasy story to tell. Maybe you just want to write about the fantasy world. Nothing wrong with that, but don't confuse the two. I've talked before about the difference between plot and story. It sounds to me as though you have an idea of background, and maybe a bit of plot, but have absolutely no idea of the story: the tale of an inner journey, the lasting changes wrought in someone's interior landscape by decisions made and, therefore, options lost forever. Think about the people, not the adventure, and see what happens.

July 10th, 2001
From: Kate, bacpac@xtra.co.nz

I have just finished reading the blue place and enjoyed every page. It was an unputdownable for me and I now feel grief at the loss of both Julia and Aud. My first question is: Are you going to write more wonderful mysteries involving Aud?

The second is: Does Aud feature in any of your other publications: How do you pronounce Hjordis, and, lastly, do you know where I might be able to get a copy of Ammonite???. I've already driven amazon.com almost "round the bend" ('scuse the pun)with my repeated requests and searches for it.

The next installment in the journey of Aud, Stay (the working title used to be Red Raw) is already written and will appear from Nan A. Talese/Doubleday in April 2002. I'm already noodling around with ideas for the next Aud book. Actually, I don't really think of them as separate books, just chapters in her story. It won't be a long story: five books at most. I imagine I'll feel quite bereft when I'm done with her but it has to end somewhere, and there are places I want to go as a writer where Aud can't take me.

I pronounce Hjordis something like "huh YOR dis," with the initial "huh" really compressed.

Ammonite is available from a variety of second-hand book dealers (see previous answer). I still haven't decided whether or not to publish it myself (in ebook and Print on Demand formats) or try to sell it to another press for traditional publication. There are so many pros and cons on both sides (and I've had a fair amount on my mind the last few months).

I'd be interested in getting readers' opinions on the matter: how many of you use ebooks? How many would buy the novel direct from me via the website?

July 10th, 2001
From: Thornton, t_kimes@hotmail.com

This is a response to your response to the question about readings in Seattle. Another good place to be seen is the University of Washington's "University Bookstore" on "The Ave", as University Way, NE is known...

Ubooks is a great bookshop and the science fiction buyer there, Duane Wilkens, has been very kind to me and helpful to my career. I've done appearances there for every single one of my books and hope to continue to do so. Other book shops I'm thinking of working with next year when Stay comes out are the Seattle Mystery Bookstore, Third Place Books, Elliott Bay, Borders (the one on Fourth, downtown) and Bailey Coy. The latter does a fantastic job of hand-selling my work for which I'm enormously grateful. I wish all booksellers would take a leaf from their book.

July 10th, 2001

Hello again,

I do hope you can convince your fellow contributors to do a very local roadshow for Bending the Landscape: Horror. If the Honey Bear was still in business, I would've voted for that (close and cozy). The UW Bookstore does a decent enough job hosting these events, but Elliot Bay does have more charm. Wherever/whenever/whatever you decide, let me/us know, we'll be there.

Thank you for good books.

Well, it's June, and Bending the Landscape: Horror has been out two months and I haven't had a moment to think about readings or signings or any other publicity for it. It's a shame, because there are some truly wonderful stories in it that perhaps some readers are not hearing about, but I've been flying back and forth and back and forth (and back and forth again) to the UK because of my sister's illness and death. And now I have to go back yet again next month for the University of Liverpool's "Celebration of British SF." Sometimes life just has to come first.

July 10th, 2001

=Hi Nicola,

I've really enjoyed reading your work. I've read The Blue Place and just finished Slow River. The thought occurred to me as I was reading each novel - this would be great on film! I wonder, has anyone approached you about making films out of any of your books? My vote would be for The Blue Place - and I cast Jodie Foster as Aud. She's not as tall, but I think she could really capture that character. In any event, I'm looking forward to your next novel.

Like most writers, I've had option offers that everyone knows will never actually come to anything from dreamers with far more imagination than talent. Those don't really count. I was approached with a fairly serious offer for Slow River a year or two ago from an independent filmmaker. The problem was funding: she was unable to come up with enough money on the front end to make me happy, and was unwilling to make the option agreement flexible enough to ensure that if we went ahead on a small to medium budget (i.e. anything between three and ten million dollars) I'd get compensated at the back end. In other words: she didn't offer big enough bucks. It was a hard decision for me: I would love to see something of mine through another creative person's lens, and it was clear that this writer/director really, really identified with the project and would have done a good job. However, it was also clear that everyone but me would make money on the deal which didn't strike me as a smart move.

I think Jodie Foster would do a great job in whatever movie she was in, and I would be delighted if she ever appeared in anything I was connected with. I've never pictured her as Aud, though. The only actor I have actively envisioned as Aud is Meg Foster the way she was twenty or thirty years ago. When I was a kid I saw an episode of "Cagney and Lacey" where Foster went after a lowlife character with elbow strikes--and she was probably the first woman I saw on screen that I believed doing that kind of physical stuff. Also, she has very pale eyes. The most important characteristic of any actor who wanted to play Aud would be how they moved: she would have to be capable of great stillness, of blinding speed, of utterly believable ferocity. I would have to be able to look at her and know she was capable of killing, mentally and physically. Personally I think it would be a great part for any actor to take on, but there would be no room in it for all those touches Hollywood stars love to hang onto even in their sternest roles: she could keep her perfect hair, if it were short enough, and her manicured nails (ditto), and her fine clothes if they were easy to move in, but the bright red lip gloss, the high heels, and the sprayed on jeans would have to go.

July 10th, 2001

I'm a big fan who has enjoyed reading and collecting many of your books. Is it possible to send books for your autograph? I would provide pre-addressed labels, pre-paid shipping costs, reusable packaging and anything else that would minimize your effort.

Thank you for your consideration,

Chip

Yes, I'm always happy to autograph books, as long as we're not talking about more than a handful, and--as you say--the labels, postage and packing are included in the parcel. No work for me = a good thing. Just make sure, next time, that you don't turn the "anonymous" option on--otherwise I can't contact you. If you do read this reply, please send your email address to Dave Slusher, who will forward it to me.

July 10th, 2001
From beth, emorrock@yahoo.com

I have so far read the blue place and Slow river and loved them both.. I have gone on quite a search for Ammonite.. I'll tell you that's a hard book to find. But I'm not giving up. My girlfriend and I enjoy your books. Why are they so hard to find? Are they out of print so soon? On borders.com I noticed you have another book comming out called Horror Could you explain what that book will be about.. I did notice it is a collection of stories. 1 more question are you going to be writing another book for example like the blue place? Thank you for your time..

Now one of your devoted fans...

~Elizabeth

Ammonite is not currently available new. However, as someone pointed out in a recent Ask Nicola question, you can find used copies online at a variety of places, such as http://www.amazon.com/ and http://www.abebooks.com/--not to mention the larger independents like http://www.sff.net/people/Nicola/www.powells.com. As to why so many of my books are so hard to find...well, it's to do with the fact that publishing has become wholly taken up with the short-term bottom line and, as a result, anything that isn't proving cost-effective to keep in print on a six-monthly or yearly basis is just let go. I think this is a rather short-sighted policy. For example, take Ammonite. It's sold somewhere between thirty and thirty-five thousand copies in mass market and there are still colleges wanting to know where they can get hold of three dozen copies for various courses. Then there are all those individual readers, like yourself, who would be happy to buy the book if it were available. Every time another novel of mine, or a volume of Bending the Landscape, comes out there is a fresh batch of readers wanting to find it. But as there has been a delay in the release of my recent work (eighteen months for BtL:H--I'm still not sure why--and even longer with my new novel, though that's largely my fault) sales of Ammonite have faltered. Randomhouse, the publisher, probably decided it wasn't worth their while in the short term to keep the book in print. The rights have reverted to me. I haven't got around to finding a new publisher yet. I've been toying with the idea of doing it myself in e-book and print-on-demand formats but I just haven't had the time in the last few months to do the research. As for my other novels, Slow River is still going strong, as is The Blue Place (Avon went back to press again late last year).

Stay (which had the working title Red Raw until a couple of months ago) should be out sometime next year. Stay picks up where The Blue Place left off. However, as Aud is so different, that is, almost insane with grief, and as Aud's difference dictates a difference in style, I hesitate to say that this second novel is "another book about Aud." It is, of course, but it's important that readers understand it won't just be a rehash of the first.

That covers the novels I've written so far. Bending the Landscape, the anthology series I co-edit with Stephen Pagel, is slightly different. Originally I dreamt it up as a single volume. I wanted short stories from lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgendered and straight writers, beginners and old hands, mainstream and genre, to write short fiction that bent the World As We Know It out of true. That idea gradually metamorphosed into the current concept: three volumes of short fiction with gay/lesbian characters, written by gay and straight writers, divided into three separate volumes: Fantasy, Science Fiction, and Horror. The Fantasy volume came out from a publisher called White Wolf in 1997. It sold pretty well, but Stephen and I decided for a variety of reasons to try place the other two volumes with another publisher. The result was that we sold all three to Overlook Press. They published the Science Fiction volume a couple of years ago, first in hardcover, then, when that was almost sold out, in trade paperback format. That volume is still in print, officially, but getting increasingly difficult to find in hardcover. The trade paperback edition has now sold out and, for reasons I'm not sure I quite understand, Overlook haven't gone back to press. The Fantasy volume, meanwhile, has long since sold out. Overlook will be reissuing that in hardcover sometime next year, and then in trade paperback. The Horror volume has only just come out in hardcover, so it should be around for quite a while yet, and then of course it will be reprinted in trade paperback format about a year from now. What makes it all so confusing for the average reader (and contributor, and editor) is that although Fantasy came out first, Science Fiction second, and Horror third, Overlook has labelled the SF volume, Vol. 1, the Horror Vol. 2, and Fantasy will be Vol.3.

January 20th, 2001
From Bob Grosse, RNGrosse@umich.edu

Could you explain why the Greek letter Lambda is associated with gay and lesbian activities?

I can list some of the explanations given by associations and individuals in the gay and lesbian community for why they use the lambda symbol but I can't tell you why it began to be used in the first place.

General wisdom has it that the lambda (() was first used in 1970, in New York, where the Gay Activists Alliance (GAA) was organising a bunch of community activities. The lambda was pretty soon recognised as a symbol for dykes and gay boys (mainly the latter). It became the queer version of a funny handshake, a sort of tribal recognition sign--the same way the labrys, or double-axe, did for lesbian feminists a few years later. Although no one knows for sure why the GAA adopted the lambda in the first place, there is a long list of possibilities.

One set of people think it was because Spartan soldiers (bit of a tautology, I know) carried the sign on their shields, and as most Spartan men didn't see women that much, most of them had sex with other men. A more romantic version of this has it being the Thebans of the Sacred Band--pairs of lovers, all of whom were slaughtered by Alexander the Great's father, Philip the Second of Macedon at some battle or other--who sport the letter on their shields. Others believe that because lambda, the eleventh letter of the Greek alphabet, began as a picture symbol of a pair of scales and subsequently took on the abstract meaning of balance, it was used by the modern gay movement as an icon of justice. Probably my favourites are from physics, where ( is used both as the symbol for the wavelength of light, and, if I've got it right (I stopped studying physics when I was sixteen), for the point where the specific heat curve of liquid helium shows a sharp rise and abrupt fall in a very short temperature range. This transition point looks a bit like a lower case lambda and so became known as the lambda point, that is, the temperature below which liquid helium in equilibrium with its vapour becomes superfluid. As a result of its appearance in energy-theory equations, ( has taken on the symbolism of equilibrium, balance, harmony, energy flow, synergy, etc. etc.

So, although no one can say with authority why the lambda was used in the first place by the GAA, not many would argue with the notion that no matter its origins, it has become an icon of the struggle towards unity and fair treatment of lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, and the transgendered. Those who use the symbol tend to be non-profit gay and lesbian organisations fighting their corner of such fields such as the law, medicine, arts, and so on. (Never noticed any for, say, migrant farmworkers....) Those who look for the symbol's roots tend to find most appealing those explanations that bolster their own beliefs. This is how symbolism works. This is what its for. There is no universal truth about such things.

Take, for example, the labrys. I started wearing a silver double-axe earring (only one; to wear two was considered a bit, well, naff) in the early eighties. At the time, I wore it because all the big bad dykes I knew wore it, it looked great, and, hey, it was an axe, a weapon made to whack people's heads off, not some sweet and pretty coloured flag, or a weird letter that looked like a prong, or a pink triangle which meant, yep, people put people like me in concentration camps. It made me feel fierce, elemental. The labrys earrings (and necklaces) were almost always silver, occasionally white gold--if you had money--occasionally fake silver, almost never gold or brass. Bronze would have been okay. Women wore them on t-shirts, carved them on their hash pipes, had them tattooed on their arms. After a year or so, I started trying to figure out why women had started to wear labryses in the first place. I ran into all kinds of woo crap: It's a sacred sign of the Gaea, the great Earth Goddess; it's the ritual sceptre of the ancient matriarchies of Crete; it's the weapon of choice of the women warriors of old; it's the emblem of amazon empires; and (according to Mary Daly) it represents "our own Wild wisdom and wit, which cut through the mazes of man-made mystification, breaking down the mind-bindings of master-minded doublethink." In other words, a load of cobblers.

Symbolism is a kind of portable history, something we carry around to make us feel better: more assured, more concrete, more complex, less superficial, less alone, more connected, as though we belong. Twenty years ago, dykes--at least where I lived--needed every bit of Feeling Better they could get. Some dealt with this by getting stoned a lot; some went crazy; some relied on the belief that the great goddess would protect them; some thought that if they carried crystals around and projected nice energy, the world would be nice to them; some learnt self-defence and fought back on a case-by-case basis; some formed community organisations; some lobbied local and national and international government; some did all of the above. Each group had their set of symbols: the jewellery and/or tattoos, the clothes, the diet, the lifestyle, the friends, the culture. The smaller the subculture, the more fiercely its members need to belong. I think this might be where uniforms come from. At that time and in that place, if you went into a gay club and saw a woman wearing men's clothes, with a scar on her face, no jewellery but cufflinks, her hair slicked back, and the tendency to light other women's cigarettes for them you knew a great deal about her present life and priorities. You wouldn't want to talk about the impact of patriarchy on language and the way language shapes our consciousness because her world was one in which there was no luxury to spend thinking about things that didn't relate directly and practically to survival. Similarly, if at the local health food store you saw a woman with long hair, tofu and miso in her shopping bag (a re-usable cloth bag hand-woven in Guatemala) wearing a tie-dyed dress with an earth-mother figurine hanging around her neck, there would be no point discussing with her the formation of a new women's self-defence cooperative or direct action group because she would clutch her venus figurine, talk about your violent energy, and suggest you should stop eating meat because your aura was way, way too dark. On the other hand, if there was a grinning dyke with cool haircut sitting at a trendy bar drinking a pint of real ale, wearing one tasteful tattoo (if it was multi-coloured you knew she hadn't had it done with a pin and ballpoint pen in prison) on her left shoulder blade, good teeth, a tiny nose stud and a silver labrys, you could reasonably expect her to have an intelligent conversation about l'ecriture feminine and post-modernist literary theory but to bolt like a rabbit at the suggestion that she participate in something like a civil disobedience action, or counselling over a phone help-line a fourteen year-old woman who thought she might be a lesbian, because that could get her arrested and worsen her employment prospects once her PhD came through.

My point is that in the early eighties I would have been able to tell just by looking at each of these women what their superficial priorities would be; they wore their cultural signifiers in their ears, around their necks, at their wrists. And then, of course, there is fashion--which is why I used the qualifier "superficial" in the previous sentence.

So, there I was, wearing this labrys and aware that the explanations everyone offered for wearing it was a load of woo crap. I sighed, reasoned that the common theme of this wishful thinking was of a back-through-the-mists-of-time connection to women having power over themselves, that I could live with that, and that, hey, it still looked cool, and kept wearing it. After a while, as my circle of friends, influence, family, joy, understanding, safety (whatever) increased, I didn't need it. I stopped wearing it. But, for a while, it helped.

January 20th, 2001

Oh, you don't have to post this on your "Ask Nicola" spot since there aren't any questions (okay, except perhaps "what kind of different--for you--fiction are you considering for the future?" for which I can happily just wait and see). I just wanted to say that, of all the things you've written that I've read (admittedly, only the 3 books) your answer to that "do you have a girlfriend" question is my favorite (probably because it's real). I think I'll reserve my jealousy and retching for someone less offensive than a happy writer in Seattle...ok, maybe just the retching.

Anyway, I'm glad Aud's getting more time...though I fell in love with Magyar and Letitia Dogias, Aud's the main character I enjoyed the most. It reminds me a little of those good, dramatic "now what?" television show cliffhangers where there's just no way the protagonist can get out of the hole (no need to be offended by the tv analogy, I'm a big tv-watcher and I have no shame about it...it's just the way I experience things anyway).

New writing. This is hard to explain. It's more a matter of voice and attitude than of subject matter or form, I think. I've been toying with the idea of trying something colder and more sinister--my first attempt was the framing narrative for those three short stories that were in Realms of Fantasy. Basically, I want to play, see what I can do. It's also a way to prevent the horrors of creeping smugness that I think develops after a while in most writers: the belief that we know what we're doing and have a real handle on the way the world works. For me it's far too easy to fall into familiar patterns. It's good to shake myself up a little every now and again. Even if I end up going to back to what I was doing before, at least I know it's a conscious choice, and not simple laziness.

I'm also considering new avenues of publishing, such as ebooks and print-on-demand, and whether or not I should incorporate and become, in effect, my own publisher. If I did this, I think I might find it easier to write differently about different things. We shall see.

January 20th, 2001

Hello Nicola

I wonder if you have any talks/signings scheduled for the Seattle area any time soon?

I generally only do roadshow stuff when I have a new novel, or new edition of a novel, out. I don't have anything scheduled for this year. However, when Bending the Landscape: Horror comes out in two or three months I'm hoping to persuade some of the local contributors to join me in a couple of readings/signings/Q&A sessions in Seattle and environs. Maybe I should do a quick poll of readers of this webpage who live in Seattle: what bookshops would you prefer to visit for a reading or signing? Some possibilities include Bailey Coy, Third Place, U Books, Borders, Mystery Bookshop, and Elliott Bay. I'm also open to suggestions. You let me know, and I'll see what I can do. Right now I'm thinking mid-April would be a good time. I'll certainly post information about any signings or readings as soon as dates are set.

January 20th, 2001
From Adam Diamond, SecBanana@aol.com

Greetings again. Can't wait for Red Raw & also am curious about Kelley's book, which you mentioned here several months ago--any further info on that as yet?

My main question has to do with the process of writing. I've been writing stories since I was around 8 or 9 years old, my earliest attempts featuring me and my friends as characters. I've found over the years that I've fallen into a pattern of frustrating fluctuation as far as my energy/motivation to write is concerned. Sometimes it's "on", sometimes "off". The normal pattern seems to feature a few months of intense inspiration and writing followed by a period of equal or longer time in which nothing is going on--I can't even get myself to stare at a page or computer screen long enough to lament the fact that I'm not writing. I fear my muse is mercurial at best. I've read a lot of books, advice, etc. from writers and writing teachers whose advice tends to boil down to "just keep writing". While I can see the logic in this, it's hard not to feel a little despair now and then during the down times. I sense all writers must go through some version of this motivational drought, but there's a difference between sensing and knowing. Does this, or something like this, ever happen to you? Do you feel it's better to try to write through it or leave it alone for a while or does it just depend on the situation? I'm not looking for a shortcut, just some insight.

Respectfully,
Adam Diamond
Cincinnati, Ohio

Kelley mailed in the final draft of her novel, Solitaire, yesterday. Still no news about the publishing schedule but we're still guessing it will be around Spring 2002.

Speaking for myself, and only for myself, there are several reasons why I might not write. The most obvious explanation is sheer laziness; writing is hard work and there are times I just want to play: the sun is shining and the grass is green, or I've finally found that book about Anglo-Saxon art I've been searching for for months, or a friend emails me with an invitation to the pub. Then there's the health-related explanation, which breaks down into two parts. One, I'm too tired, ill, or brain-dead to do the work (this doesn't seem to happen as often as it used to). Two, I want to write and I'm ready to write but I have something I have to do the next day--a talk to a college group, or a class to teach, or an early-morning interview, or travel to a friend's wedding or whatever--and I know that if I use up energy working on a novel, I'll be too tired to do whatever it is the day after so I make myself just laze about and drink tea, play with Tivo (poor old me <g>). But these are the obvious explanations. There are a couple of other, much more slippery reasons.

Occasionally I wake up in the morning full of plans to write thousands of words of scintillating prose. I know roughly what I want to be working on, what needs to be done, and...I just don't do it, I futz about doing things like getting online and ego-surfing, or researching e-publishing, or catching up with phone calls to my family in England, and just generally fritter the day away while pretending to do something useful. This avoidance behaviour comes from a weird, irrational (I hope), hard-to-define place that has something to do with a fear of failure. I worry so much that what I write won't be good enough that I don't write it at all; I try, in some peculiar way, to save it for another time or place when I'll be able to do better. I'm just not sure what "it" is: the idea, the talent, the work, the time, the energy, the final product, the brilliant work of art, the risk. I'm not sure, either, what "good enough" is. All I know is that I set up my own roadblocks to producing anything just in case what I produce isn't as good as I had hoped. The flaw in the logic is obvious and inescapable but, as I said, I already know this behaviour is irrational. The only way around this one is, yes, to do the work: to sit and write something. The thing is, it doesn't always have to be at the screen, working at something you'd planned to work on. I often find that scribbling with a pencil on a legal pad helps get me past this one, because I can fool myself into thinking my thoughts are temporary, not the real writing--so it doesn't matter if it's not good enough.

However, there are those times when there is a very good reason to not write: when I am going through some huge internal change or have reached a significant cross-road, either as a person or as a writer. This does not happen often. Moving house, for example, doesn't really count--it's an upheaval, yes, but if you're just moving to another part of the city, then although the time and energy you have to devote to the logistics might cut into writing time for a while or even obliterate for two or three days, it's not enough of a change to knock you off track. (Or since, I'm just talking about myself, I suppose I should say "knock me off track.") There again, when I moved from the UK to the US, leaving behind all my family, every friend, my partner of ten years, my house, my job, and free healthcare, to move in with Kelley to a very, very small apartment without two cents to rub together, in a completely different culture, I expected to not be able to get any real work done for a while. However, what happened was that I had all these ideas and the sudden mental freedom to work, and I wrote quite a lot. The time when I didn't write was a six-month period about a year before the move, when I was wrestling internally with the question of whether or not I should leave the UK (and missing Kelley, and grieving over the death of my sister, discovering I had a chronic illness, and feeling like a monster because I was contemplating leaving my partner). My mind was so taken up with all this stuff, on the conscious and unconscious level, that there simply wasn't room for anything else. When I started writing again, what I wanted to write about had changed. If I'm changing--and I know I change as a writer when I change as a person, and vice versa (that is, if it's even possible to separate the two)--it's not always a good idea for me to start work on a new project, because the initial shape of the work often moulds the finished work; I sometimes find it hard to change a path once I start. Oh, I can change the structure and the different ways to make a point or describe an event or whatever, but I can't scour from my head the original shape and heft of the piece, the goal I set out to achieve, the emotions and character changes I want to describe. I'm willing to bet that there are many writers who can, but I'm not one of them. Anyway, once the initial shape is set, that's it. If that initial shape no longer makes sense to the new me, then I have to abandon it, because I can't warp the new stuff to fit the old. Believe me, I've tried a couple of times and the retrofit doesn't work. At least not to my satisfaction. Twice, now, I've sold novellas then pulled them from publication because they were chimeras, mutants, botched pieces. If I'd just left the ideas alone, I could have worked on them a year or so later and produced something I'd be happy with. Now I'm going to have to wait years before I can revisit them--and one is a subject I'm desperate to work on.

My long fiction comes from deep inside and deals with people and issues that matter to me in some way (though sometimes you'd be hard-pressed to tell). This is not always the case for some of my shorter work, which may (some of the time, not always) spring from the urge to play in a more left-brain kind of way and doesn't need to plumb any depths. So if I'm stuck in the midst of a big change and know the deep places are temporarily inaccessible or need to be left alone, I can work on something else: short fiction, poetry (I know, that sounds counter-intuitive, so sue me), some reviews or whatever. If I try work on one of these and can't concentrate--and decide it's not just laziness, or health or any of the other things I've already talked about--then the only other thing it could be is that I'm bored and/or the well is temporarily dry (for me, often the same thing). By this I mean I haven't been getting out enough lately, I haven't had much of a life, haven't read stimulating articles, haven't talked to anyone interesting or been anywhere new, and the store of curious tidbits in my head is empty. So then I go out and party for a while, stock up on knotty and/or hot-button issues, cool trivia, new music, and other cultural detritus such as the names and tastes of new cocktails . The flip side of this is that sometimes I can't concentrate because I haven't rested, really rested for a while, and then I try to sit by a lake for an hour or two and let my mind fall still.

The crucial aspect of all this as far as I'm concerned is honesty: learn to tell when you're just making excuses and when you need to change something, be truthful with yourself about whether you really are exhausted or whether you're just feeling like goofing off for the afternoon. If you don't know where the reluctance comes from, it's harder to fix it. And if you're not interested in what you're working on, no one else will be, either.

January 5th, 2001

Do you have a girlfriend? (Thisis from a 19 year old lesbian who's just, you know, curious.)

I do, in fact, have a girlfriend. We met in the summer of 1988 at the Clarion writing workshop at MSU, in East Lansing, Michigan (see above). Her name is Kelley Eskridge. She is talented, gorgeous, smart, strong, empathic, brave, and kind. She's a great writer, a staunch supporter of my work and, oh yeah, cooks a great Chicken Dijon. Did I mention her sense of humour, delight in learning, and that she's a babe? Feel free to scowl with jealousy or retch at my smugness.

If anyone had suggested to me twenty years ago that I would live with and love just one woman for more than a dozen years I would have laughed hard enough to give myself an aneurism. The idea of monogamy was not only ridiculous, it was offensive. What I'm finding, though, is that monogamy is very, very exciting. What it does is force me to learn. This is not easy to explain.

One summer a couple of years ago (why do all these things happen to me in summer?), after I finished The Blue Place, I started thinking about Red Raw, and how I needed to dig deeper into Aud, and I got cold feet: I didn't want to write a sequel, I told myself; sequels are boring; sequels are what writers do when they run out of ideas; sequels are for Has Beens. I got all twisted up. What was the point of being a writer if I couldn't be brilliant all the time? I've spent my whole life picking up things--singing, martial arts, sex, drinking, academic study, track, team sports--and then dropping them when I got bored, when I'd proved to myself that I could do it...and (it dawned upon me that summer, slowly and unpleasantly) when I realised I couldn't be the best there ever was at whatever it was I had been fooling with. It also occurred to me that there was no way I could ever be the best in the world at writing: apart from anything else, what standard could I use to judge myself? Awards? Sales? Critical acclaim? Number of fans? Personal sneaking feelings of adequacy/inadequacy/superiority? If I kept changing genres and styles all the time, how could I tell if I was getting any better? What did "better" mean, anyway? (Oh, I had a fun time that summer.) After a few weeks of angst (angst, believe it or not, is not something I've spent a lot of time dealing with in my life, and I sincerely hope I won't be spending a lot of time there in the future) I reached the tentative and unwelcome conclusion that one of the reasons I kept trying things and dropping them was that I was always living half in the future, on my own bow wave; I was always looking for the fastest ship, the next port, the most colourful bazaar. But here I was: living with a wonderful woman, in a great city, doing a job and living a life that I loved. Of all the things it would be possible for me to change, there wasn't a single major thing that I wanted to be different.

This came as a bit of a shock. Change has been a constant in my life. Until that summer I had never lived in one place for longer than three years, never done one thing for longer than that, never been without some kind of impossible dream or ridiculous challenge. Yet here I was, living exactly the life I wanted. I had no clue what to do with it. I sat around and pondered the situation (drank a lot of beer, had many thoughtful silences, stroked the cat a lot while I stared into the middle distance). Then I understood that what I had to do was...well, just more of what I was doing: go further, dig deeper, risk more; commit further, become more strongly attached; leave myself more open to criticism, more exposed, and more vulnerable. (Oh, right, that sounded like fun....) So this is what I've tried to do. I don't know how much of it I can do with Aud, but in addition to a few more books about her, I'm planning to work on some pretty different (for me) fiction. Scary stuff but, with any luck, worth it.

This is what monogamy is like, too, in a way. It's like sailing around the world on a two-person yacht. You get to know every inch, every mood, every idiosyncrasy and weak spot of the vessel, you can venture into wilder and wilder seas, explore every interesting bit of coastline, every cove and deep sea trench, because you trust the deck under your feet and the rope under your hands. You can ask more of the other half of your crew, and you can give more. I've learnt so much about how and who I am and I've put my entire life in Kelley's hands. I know, every day, that she puts hers in mine. It's worth it. Kelley is worth it. I smile a lot.

January 5th, 2001

I would like to say Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for the books that you have written. My favorite book is Ammonite I have read it many many times over and it is looking worse for wear! It has been dunked in the tub when the cat decided to say hello to me at 1:00 am, that was the first reading and I coulden't put it down to go to sleep!!! They kept me awake wondering what was happening to them. The Blue Place is my next choice, I love the characters and was very upset when she died, Have wondered over the years how Aud will, if she will, get over it!!! Having loved for such a short time and opening up,,, then pooof!!! Slow River was very upsetting for me to read so that one I only read once! Very well written though. When will you write a sequel to Ammonite???? It is such a fascinating story line and the peoples in it are so real. It could go in so many interesting directions in their future. Keep up the great work that you are doing.

Personal Stuff
Have you tried Chi Gong for your MS? It is easier on your body than other traditional Oriental body movements. And the visulisation with the chakra system could help along with it. I use a video called Discovering Chi and it seems to help me on my bad days. I don't have MS but I have allergys which interfire with my lungs and sinus, very bad infections with both.(mold, mildew and me living in the rainy Northwest!!) The DR. wanted to roter router my sinuses!!,, which would help in the short term but they would have to do it over and over. My immune system is shot because of ALL of the antibiotices and other stuff that I have been taking over the years. Everytime a cold,flu whatever comes around me, my immune system falls over and dies< gives a token fight for a few days then quits!! Don't give up on the natural stuff just pick and choose on the right ones for you and your body. A few years ago the Dr. told me that I had just about used up all of the spectrums of antobiotices ! out there and he didn't know what else to do for me. Well that is when I started trying other options. Chi Gong is easy on the joints also, mine don't move that well (stiff,etc.) I am very clutzy to put it nicely. Well enjoy sitting out in the sunshine (great year for that)and digging in the garden. Remember to take it one day at a time and ENJOY!! Peace to you. Becky

Yes, it has been a great year in Seattle for sunshine--a great, great summer (lots of people complained, but I like it being cooler than usual--there was still a fair amount of sun) and, so far, a fine autumn and winter. Until today, when it started to rain mid-afternoon and even now, about eleven at night, it shows no sign of stopping. Ah, well. The beauty of Seattle is that if you don't like the weather, just wait fifteen minutes. (Of course, you could say the same about service in some of the hipper restaurants <g>.)

I tried Chi Gong, complete with making my own herbal pills and doing the breathing/meditation thing, in 1990, in Georgia. I liked the breathing/meditation and still do it occasionally but it didn't do much to help. Wish it did. It would be a lot more pleasant than having vile chemicals pumped into me on a regular basis. Actually, I'm lucky in that apart from a variety of autoimmune diseases I've been pretty healthy the last ten years or so--except when I travel. I tell you, all I have to do is look at a plane and I come down with some respiratory infection or other. Tuh.

MS is no longer my adversary, it's an irritating little dog that follows me around everywhere and demands to be fed and watered and walked--it's mine, I'm responsible and can't get rid of it, but as soon as it shuts up, I try forget it and get on with something else, something a lot more fun. I'm not inclined to spent more time on it than I have to.

Sorry to hear about your copy of Ammonite ending up in the tub. Pretty soon technology will make it possible to pay a couple of extra bucks and get a book in a waterproof paper version. (Some are already available in this format. One example: Aqua Erotica, edited by Mary Anne Mohanraj.) Then there are the various ebook reading devices, which you can stick in a ziplock bag for bath-time reading. The format I'm looking forward to, though, is the E-Ink paper (electrophorectic ink) first developed at MIT. I have no idea how waterproof it is, or when it will be commercially available for books (it's already in prototype for things like indoor billboards that can be changed simultaneously all over the country, via pager) but it sounds like a cool idea. Meanwhile, I'm still investigating either getting another publisher to reissue Ammonite in trade paper format, or putting it online, or forming my own press, with Kelley. As soon as I make up my mind, one way or another, I'll post something in the News section. As for a sequel...see my answer to the question below.

January 5th, 2001

Hi Nicola--like many others, I had been looking for Ammonite, and then another reader pointed some of us to a website that sells used books and several copies of Ammonite were available. The website is http://dogbert.abebooks.com/ and there were still copies of Ammonite there, last time I checked. It's worth checking it out even for that one teacher trying to teach your book (though there may not be enough copies).

Anyway, I liked Ammonite. You may have already answered this question somewhere else, but I'll ask anyway: do you think you'd do a follow-up to Ammonite? There isn't one already that I don't know about, is there? That whole possibility of Company attempting to reclaim Jeep the planet one way or another and then the Jeep people finding a way to fight back left me wanting more.

Regardless, I'm looking forward to Red Raw.

Two or three years ago I finally realised that I would probably never say "never" again, so I won't say that I never intend to write Ammonite II: The Return but it looks unlikely for the near future. Right now I'm dealing with editorial revisions for Red Raw, plotting out a third Aud book, and deep into research for a historical novel...and I still want to find time to work on a couple of short story ideas I've been mulling for at least the past year, not to mention some non-fiction I'd like to tackle. In a pefect world, with as many hours in the day as I needed--or in a terrible world where I no longer had any new challenges or ideas that appealed to me--then, yes, maybe I'd start thinking about Jeep, and Marghe, and Thenike, and Danner, and all the others, and maybe I'd do something about it. It's always possible.

January 5th, 2001

I am a student. I am studing gerontology and at the end of my course i should present a disertacion. my topic that i have decided to do is day hospitals, but i have some difficulties to find the method and the methodologie that can be usefull to me. can yuo do it for me. thank you.

As of January 2001, my consulting rate is $150 an hour. (Kelley, who has just read this, says this is too cheap. For you I should charge seventeen zillion dollars an hour and it still wouldn't be enough.)

January 5th, 2001

This is more in the nature of fan mail rather than a question. I happened across Ammonite quite by chance. I was at the local library looking for a paperback to read on a long trip, and thought Ammonite showed promise. The quality of both the writing and the imagining far exceeded my expectations, so, when I found Slow River and The Blue Place at a booksellers two weeks later at the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, I was delighted. They have both been very enjoyable reading, so much so that I found myself wishing that they were both longer books.

For many years I have been associated with Elsie Publishing, the publishers of Lesbian Connection, the news magazine for, by, and about lesbians. As part of our activities, we maintain a free lending library for lesbians, in East Lansing, Michigan, where we are located. When I found that our library did not contain copies of your books, I purchased copies of them, except for Ammonite, of course, and donated them forthwith. It pleases me to know that local dykes who may not have heard of your work will have access to your fine writing. I look forward to finding more of your work soon.

I wish I'd heard of Elsie Publishing, and Lesbian Connection, in 1988--which is when I first arrived in East Lansing for the six week Clarion writing workshop, held at Michigan State University. It was my first time in a foreign country on my own; I was poor, and young, and vegetarian; judging from first appearances, I thought I was the only dyke within a hundred mile radius. In other words, I was in dire need of a friendly native guide.

I arrived at the tiny, tidy East Lansing airport late one Saturday afternoon at the end of June to 105 degree heat and no public transport that I could find. I had to take a taxi to the MSU campus--the driver drove at ninety miles an hour, all four windows open (no air conditioning), one finger on the wheel, and turned round to talk to me in the backseat all the way. (He had this nephew called Bill, in the army, in Inga-land, who lived near a place called Big Ben--did I know him?)Actually, the fun started before that, at Kennedy airport, when the INS took one look at my passport photo, in which I had long hair (it was taken when I was eighteen) at then at me, with very, very short hair (I was twenty-seven) and said, "What happened?" At the time, I didn't know that if you were lesbian or gay, you weren't allowed to enter the country. So despite the fact that I had a big old silver labrys hanging off one ear, jeans with suspenders, big leather boots and practically zero hair, I just laughed in his face and said, "I fucking grew up, what do you think happened?" And he, bemused--or probably thinking I had nothing to hide, otherwise why would I be trying to pick a fight with the one person who could deny me entry--waved me through. Anyway, there I was, a day early for my workshop (it was cheaper to fly on Saturday) in East Lansing, tired, hungry, jet-lagged, and not knowing a soul. Naturally, my first thought was: Where can I get a pint? I found my dorm room (my first experience of such a thing; it had no air conditioning; everyone on my floor seemed to be very pleasant, very whitebread, very married, and about as much like me as a herd of armadillos) unpacked (I had one Adidas bag and a small backpack--it took about four minutes) and set out to find fellow workshop participants. I found four. Great, I thought, and asked where I might find the bar. "Ah," they said, "unfortunately the campus is dry." Okay, I said, so it's not raining, and, gosh, that's very nice, but where the fuck is the bar? "No," they said, "you don't understand. It's dry." At this point I decided that the IQ of the average American was about 48. But, hey, I though, no point getting pissed off, they're foreigners, so I tried again, as politely as I could. After I'd asked the question in as many ways as I could come up with (and after I'd begun to think that there was something seriously wrong with these people) I finally worked out that what they meant was that there was no bar on campus. It took me a while to digest this. (I think someone from England would be less shocked at discovering naked nuns rolling in honey in the university quadrangle than at finding out there was no bar.) However, once I'd come to terms with the fact that I couldn't buy a pint, that I was stranded without public transport many miles from anything and that America really was a peculiar country, I decided that the best thing to do was to just go eat something and reassess. So off I went to the cafeteria. And found that although I'd paid for three meals a day for six weeks, even though I'd called ahead, two months before, and been assured that they could handle my food requirements, there was not a thing there I found edible. (I was a v. strict vegetarian, and allergic to things like cheese and yoghurt.) At this point I gave up and went to bed. The next day, I woke feeling more optimistic. Okay, I thought, I can't go to a pub but I can go find a supermarket and buy some beer; even in 105 degrees I can walk a couple of miles. So I find the four Clarion students who are already there, and ask them where the nearest supermarket with beer might be. "Oh," they said cheerfully, "it's Sunday." Okay, fine, Sunday, I said, but where's the nearest supermarket where I can buy beer? "No," they said, "you don't understand. It's Sunday." After several tense minutes where I consider just throwing them, then myself out of the window in despair, I finally figure out that not only does MSU not have a bar, but you can't buy alcohol on Sundays. I could, of course, have walked a few miles to the nearest restaurant, bought a meal, and had a beer, but there was one problem: I only had about ten dollars to my name. I didn't have a credit card (as I've said, I was pretty poor) and the funds I'd brought, although they were travellers' cheques were, unfortunately, in sterling rather than dollars. I felt quite, ah, doleful. And that was just the first eighteen hours.

Things improved rapidly, of course: it was only a couple of hours later that Kelley arrived, at which point I understood that the whole Clarion experience (and my life, but that took me longer to work out) had suddenly--dramatically and permanently--improved. An hour after that, the first week's instructor arrived bearing beer, and the next day I found a bank and cashed in some travellers' cheques. It took longer to get decent food: I ended up having to march into the back kitchen, grab some chef by his lapel, haul him out to the cafeteria and shove his face up close to each cheesy or meaty dish and say, "Can I eat that? No. Can I eat this? No. How about this? I don't think so...." (I tried being polite, tried having a nice chat with two chefs and the food manager on previous days, but it reached the point where, after five days, I was actually getting faint with hunger, and that's when I get mean). It also took several weeks before I was no longer treated like a four-legged stork wherever I went (wish I had a dollar for every time that summer I got called "sir," or for everytime a jaw hit the floor, for example when I walked into a barber shop and asked them to cut my hair: I mean, what's so weird about that?). I would have given my eyeteeth to talk to someone who didn't constantly wonder if my hair and nails were so short because I'd had chemo or been tortured by some evil communist regime--or who had even heard the word "tofu" before. Besides, I was young and, er, healthy, and...well, when some teenage Texan cheerleader babe you bump into at two in the morning in the laundromat, whose bust size is greater than her IQ (who has a fetish about the word "schedule" and who--when you obligingly repeat it a few times in your English accent, "shed-yull,"--gets all hot and bothered and...oh, never mind) starts to seem worth seeing again, you know you are in deep, deep trouble and in need of another perspective. What I'm saying is that it would have been nice to know there were people in town with whom I could have sat down, talked, had a beer and a decent meal, maybe played pool or whatever. But, hey, you never know when I might be in town. One of these days, eh?

January 5th, 2001
From Bob Parker, rparker@ridgenet.net

Hi Nicola,
It was great to hear there is a Bending the Landscape - Horror, on the way. I read the other two and the writing is excellent. In case there are any other 50+ year old male heterosexuals out there wondering if these books are "suitable" for them- yes, go buy them. The stories touch on basic human emotions and really are good. Anyway, when might I be looking for the book? Thanks, Bob

Ah, well, for once I actually know enough about a publishing topic to be specific: Bending the Landscape: Horror will be published by Overlook on 29 March 2001 as a hardcover that costs $26. (Yee-ha! Can't tell you how much of a kick it is to be able to give an exact answer. Yay!) You can pre-order it on amazon.com or your local independent bookshop.

We have a great set of stories lined up, both from past contributors to previous BtL volumes (L. Timmel Duchamp, Holly Wade Matter, Simon Sheppard, Carrie Richerson, Mark W. Tiedemann, Keith Hartman, Kathleen O'Malley, Mark McLaughlin, Ellen Klages, Leslie What) and from BtL newcomers (Barbara Hambly, A.J. Potter, Alexis Glynn Latner, Gary Bowen, Brian Hopkins & James Van Pelt, Alexi Smart, Cynthia Ward, Kraig Blackwelder), many of whom will be known to readers from their other work.

Putting together a volume of horror stories was interesting; I had to spend some time mulling what a "horror story" is, and some more time guessing what it might mean to other readers. I think we've come up with an interesting and varied collection: some quiet fiction, some shocking, some triumphant, some wrenching, some tense, some playful in a threatening kind of way. I'm proud of it. Several contributors are from the Northwest, so it might well be that we can arrange some kind of left coast get-together and publicity scrum. If and when that happens, I'll certainly post advance notice in the News section.

November 14, 2000

When is Red Raw hitting bookstores? The Blue Place is the first thing of yours I've read, though I've been aware of you for some years (and sf/f is my first love in reading...)...now I guess I'll check out your other stuff, but I'm really glad you aren't leaving Aud Torvingen in twisting in the fictional wind!

Nan A. Talese/Doubleday have made an offer for the hardcover, and I've accepted. Vintage will do the paperback.

The Talese imprint of Doubleday concentrates on "quality fiction" (two from their list, Atwood's The Blind Assassin and Kneale's The English Passenger were on this year's Booker shortlist--Atwood won) and publish only about twelve books a year. I don't yet have a sense of their rhythms and timing (my other books have been with big commercial publishers who usually take eighteen months or more to get a book out) but my best guess would be a Spring '02 publication. As always, when I know anything definite, I'll post something.

I have to say I'm terribly pleased that I'll be working with Nan A. Talese. Each book and each author gets time and attention. I'm hoping this will translate to a wider audience. It also means that Aud has a home for a while--no more wondering where she'll go next. I spent a happy hour this morning making notes for her Further Adventures. I think in the next installment she might have a brush with the film industry. She might also have some fun....

November 14, 2000

Hi Nicola. This may be the wrong forum. I'm a professor at Western Washington University and i teach a course called "Writing in the Context of Alternative Realities". I used Ammonite last year in the course quite successfully, but i find today, the first day of school, copies of the book are nowhere to be found. I have a complete course worked out with sf and utopian novesl speaking to each other, and would hate to let it go. Any suggestions where I maight locate copies? In the next twoo weeks? Thanks

Ammonite is officially out of print. It gives me a pang to say that but there's not much I can do about it. I'm currently investigating two e-publishers and, with luck, the book will be available again in a few months, possibly even with a Print on Demand option. (I still believe that a nice trade paperback would sell reasonably well but I have yet to be able to persuade a publisher of this.) However, as some reading this will no doubt know by now, I don't give up easily <g>.

Meanwhile, there are several out-of-print or hard-to-find book services out there willing to help you out. Or try individual bookshops online, such as Powell's and University Books here in Seattle. If all else fails, I have a box of books in my basement. Somewhere.

November 14, 2000

Hi i'm looking for someone to write a book for me! Do you know somebody?

No.

November 14, 2000

I have to do an object speech and it just has to be on that object not talking something inculding that object, my object is a diploma, but it's a kind of "Diploma". I got it from my best friend from Romania when I left and it says on it: For a super friend, for her attitude and from a good friend. Well my question is if you could tell me what I could talk about in the intro, body and conlcusion and how should I write it pls answer these quickly cause I need it. Thanks a lot.

Tell you what, you come here and clean my house (the oven, in particular, needs a good going-over, and it's about time the basement freezer was defrosted and scrubbed out), rake the leaves, and then run a few errands, and I'll tell you what to talk about. Deal?

November 14, 2000
From Quanda Anderson, enigma1013@netzero.net

Dear Ms. Griffith,

I don't exactly have a question for you, but I just wanted to tell you that your assessment of Seattle culture is right on. I've not lived in Washington for eight years, and I still miss the good food, the ease of walking, the reserve of the people, the almost... British... approach to humor (depending on where you are, that is-- I went to a Catholic high school in Tacoma for two years and, even today, my sense of the laughable is described as "dry" or "British"-- not necessarily the same thing, but who am I to say?). I have lived in Texas for the last eight years (with time off to go to college in Massachusetts and a short stint in upstate New York) and I am still given culture shock when dealing with Texans-- the almost xenophobic self-centeredness (with both state and self, mind you,) the wish to know everything personal about you at once, the severe invasions of 'personal space' without bothering to think "Hey, she might not want me to touch her." Ah, well. ::grinning::

I do very much love your books. The news that Ammonite was out of print nearly made me fall from my chair! I'm glad to know that there might be a chance of a trade paperback for that work, though-- I've introduced several of my friends to your work, beginning with A, and they have devoured SR and TBP as well--we all pounced on your descriptive imagery as our favorite aspects of you books. Not that your stories aren't well-written... but there's nothing like getting that feeling of *transport* from the winds on Jeep, or Lore's reaction to Spanner's aphrodisiac, or any of a dozen other little things.

Thank you so much for your exsquisitely atmospheric work-- I will wait patiently for more of your wonderful offerings. Oh, and as for people that can't see the humor in TBP: it's there, definitely. I think I laughed almost as much as I caught my breath at Aud's descriptions of necessary violence, or woodworking.

Sincerely yours, Quanda Anderson

Generally speaking I leave only a fraction of the original descriptions in the final book. A case in point: Red Raw begins with Aud in the Pisgah National Forest. The first draft was about twelve luscious pages of trees and sunlight and beetles and birds, the smell of the dirt, the rustle of leaves, but that's now down to about three pages, and may shrink further. Such scenes are delicious to imagine, exciting to write, and satisfying to read out loud; it's absolutely no fun to cut them to the bone, but I know self-indulgence when I see it (and smell it, and taste it <g>). It's just that I love going to these places, to the forests and the lakes and mountains; it's a cheap way to go on holiday.

September 14, 2000
From Daniel Mann, djmann88@yahoo.com

Although I would say you writing actually improved when you released Blue Place, I would warn against approaching the detective novel too closely, it relies heavily on formula, and virtually all purely detective novels are badly written pulp.(a pulp which is in demand). While all your books are excellent, I find it interesting that Blue place didnt have the problems most other books have when they try to include 'action', such as a loss of emotion and character based critical thought surrounding the action sequences, or a trivialising of such events after they occur.

My question as follows:
In the media we often hear stories of how so-&-so followed his or her idol of 30 years ago and became, say, a rockstar or an astronaut. Although I have an extreme attitude problem, as a nice young man should I continue to near idolise cool authors such as yourself (and pat cadigan, nancy kress ...) more than any nike sportsMAN or black NFL or NBL player. My friends all tell me this is 'wrong', but wont elaborate, especially considering I only appreciate what you have written and done, I really dont wan't to be in your shoes. Whats up with this? No-one wants to discuss it. Most people who are willing to discuss it blame gender differences, and an inability of society to deal with gender and sexual sterotypes. Personally, I blame society's self hate(and self-abnegation) that makes people mimic and emulate thier 'idols', rather than just trying to understand and improve on what they like.

what do you think? (BTW, as you guessed I'm not a newly lesbian, I am a 6ft fellow with waist length blonde hair Aussie surfer (yes! a cliche), who is studying for a Phd in Mech Engineering)

I wouldn't dream of suggesting that you stop admiring me. What sane and reasonable person would want to turn down that kind of attention? Admiration, though, is only valuable if the admirer is also reasonably sane--which, on the available evidence, you seem to be. For instance, you understand that it's eminently possible to separate out the traits and achievements you admire and/or want to emulate from those for which you don't give a fig; just because you appreciate my work doesn't mean you have to want to be a dyke--which is good, because that might prove a tad difficult for a six-foot surfer boy. (Not impossible, of course, just not easy <g>.)

I believe, as you seem to, that wanting to be one's idol is a sign of a lack: of knowledge, experience, or self-esteem. It's not a coincidence that many teens experience some kind of hero-worship; it's a way of trying on experiences, of imagining how it might be to front a band, open a movie, or carve a trail down an extreme slope. When you're that young it's hard to see that character is a composite, a gradual accretion of all the things done, people met, and decisions made. Those who continue the idolisation into adulthood are simply seeking an excuse to not deal with the real world.

September 14, 2000

Dear Nicola, i have 10 questions and i hope you dont mind answering them.
1) Why do you think so many science fiction writers choose to write about aliens from Mars?
2) How do you think the temperature on Pluto compares with the temperature on Mercury? Why are they different?
3) Which planet is second farthest from the sun?
4) Name Earth's two nearest planet.
5) Would it take longer to fly to Saturn or Neptune? Why?
6) Which planet had visible rings?
7) Which planet is the largest?
8) What are the possibilities that aliens may have visited us from the other galaxies?
9) What would they need to do if they wanted to make the trip?
10)In" Star Trek ",when the spaceship travels at Warp speed, how much time will it take the Enterprise to travel from Earth to the Sun?

i hope u can send me all the answers as soon as possible, but i want you to know that if you dont know all the answers plz do not go to any trouble for it to look everywhere, do as it i seasy for you
Thank You
-Sania

I am wracked with guilt at not having immediately called all my colleagues to determine the scientific answers to your questions. What happened was I got really twisted up at the thought that I might be polling a non- representational subset of the population and so spent three days writing code in an attempt to come up with a statistically normed sample--not moving except to dial up Kozmo for a supply of Jolt and pop-tarts. But, in the end, as you've probably guessed, I failed and so, despite your very generous offer to forgive me, I think I'll just go kill myself.

September 14, 2000
From Adam Diamond, SecBanana@aol.com

Nicola,

I've read all three of your novels to date and am eagerly awaiting Red Raw. In addition, I've found your responses to posts here greatly rewarding. Let me just say that you're giving me hope as a writer, as a thinker, as a person.

I'm straight and male and I only mention this because of a comment you made in an earlier post: "There are a lot more straight readers in the world than gay ones, and I want my work to resonate with as many people as possible." Let me assure you in no uncertain terms: it does.

My question is a simple one: are you familiar with Emma Bull's novel Bone Dance? It's got an interesting take on gender which, if you haven't yet read it, I don't want to give away here as it really alters the experience of reading the book. On a related note, though, do you ever find yourself consciously altering your writing in order to downplay issues of gender and sexuality? Because there is such a variety of media stimuli pushing a specific style/form of dealing with these issues, I find I must sometimes think hard about what I am saying in my writing, even if (and sometimes especially because) these issues are not the primary focus.

With respect,
Adam Diamond

I am familiar with Bull's Bone Dance which I read when it first came out (ten years ago?) and thoroughly enjoyed. I've enjoyed all the work of hers that I've come across...but I can't help feeling she hasn't found her metier yet. Don't get me wrong, I don't think there's anything lacking in her work so far, it's just that I sometimes think I see something more glimmering under the surface; I'd love to see that rise.

When I'm actually writing, no, I don't downplay issues of gender and sexuality. So much of my writing is done at the subterranean level, before I ever set fingers to keyboard, that those issues are all resolved by the time I sit down and type "Chapter One." However, in both Slow River and The Blue Place I came across paragraphs in the first draft that made me really uncomfortable, and when I sat down to try work out why, I realised that it had to do with my characters' perceptions of sex and gender (particularly prejudice relating to same) and my portrayal of the fictional society's attitudes. For example, in The Blue Place, there was a throw-away paragraph where Aud and Julia discuss the fact that in Norway they could legally get married. I deleted it because it would have pointed up the fact that in the US, two women can't get married, and I really didn't want the idea of discrimination, of women or lesbians being second class citizens, to enter the reader's mind; that wasn't what the book was about. Aud is self-directed, almost (she thinks) untouched by cultural assumptions; she believes herself to be an utterly free agent. To rub the reader's nose in the fact that she isn't (and can't be-- no social being can) would have destroyed the delicate balance I was trying to build. As Aud grows, learns, and matures it will be interesting to see whether or not I need to maintain this balance.

The book I'm researching at the moment, an historical novel about Hild of Whitby, which I want to be as close to what is know to be known as possible, is a different kettle of fish. I don't yet know enough about her to know whether she was a dyke, a straight girl, or neither...and I'm coming to the conclusion that such definitions would, at that time, have been rather meaningless. The whole early seventh-century Anglo-Saxon view of marriage was not like ours; the primary human bonds were of kin/clan/tribe, not marriage. It's quite discomfiting to realise I'm setting out to write a huge novel about a woman to whom it mattered more whether or not she liked her uncle than who she humped. I am very much a product of my culture: the most important person in my life is Kelley, my partner. The idea that my parents and/or sisters and/or aunts and uncles would be given my highest allegiance, while Kelley would be of clearly secondary status, is a really difficult one for me to grasp. It matters to me who Hild has sex with-- were they kind? mean? young? old? It's not just about gender--but it probably was of less consequence to her because the backbone, the cornerstone of her being would have been her kin group.

I'm beginning to understand that it might be awhile before I can write this book. I had hoped it would be my next project, but I think I have a long way to go before I can really get inside Hild's head. Some of this may be due to the fact that I've never tried to write about a real person before, but some of it is that Hild is really, really alien to me. So many historical novels pretend to be about historical figures, but they're really about twentieth- or twenty-first-century people in old-fashioned clothes. I don't want to make that mistake. I want to understand what I'm doing before I begin.

September 14, 2000

I read The Blue Place in italian and I was shocked: why the so much melodrammatic - tragedy - don't cry for me Aud - Oliver & Jennifer' Love Story (etcetera) - last pages? I think you 're the new Donald Westlake, but last pages, I think, ruined the book... Good job, anyway.

Melodramatic: "...characterized by sensationalism and spurious pathos." (OED) Definitions can be very subjective. The way I see it, if you felt that I as a writer had done my job in describing truly Aud and Julia, if you understood how and why Julia's death occurred and believed how Aud felt about it, then the pathos elicited would not be spurious. The emotions felt by you, as a reader, would have been earned; the book would not be a melodrama. However, if the emotions or events did not ring true for you, then the pathos at the end would be false. It would mean I had not quite done my job. I would be interested to hear what, exactly, did not work for you--what events or emotions felt untrue.

September 14, 2000

I've read and thoroughly enjoyed Slow River and The Blue Place, but so far I haven't been able to track down a copy of Ammonite. Amazon tells me that it's out of print and since all of the online booksellers use the same distribution warehouse I'm assuming the rest don't have it either. Any ideas?

Ammonite is, indeed, out of print. It had a great run for a mass-market paperback original that never got any publicity. Up until a few months ago it was selling a reasonably steady number of copies per month, but not enough for Del Rey to feel it was cost effective for them to keep it in print. I have since reacquired the rights. It's my feeling that when my new book hits the shelves--I hope to able to announce some news about that in a week or two--if Ammonite were rereleased in trade paperback format, it would do quite well: Slow River is still selling briskly, and The Blue Place recently went back to press. For some reason, the trade paper format seems to work well for my novels.

However, until it's republished, Ammonite is only going to be available in one of two ways. One, from booksellers such as University Books here in Seattle who ordered many copies as soon as they realised Del Rey were going out of stock. Two, from secondhand booksellers such as Powell's (who have an excellent inventory, see http://www.powells.com/). The minute it gets back into print, I'll post something in the News section.

September 14, 2000

Both of us enjoyed your one page essay in Nature (402,585). The future is happenning.

Yes. This stuff is happening all around us. Years ago, I did some research about how/when/if it would ever be possible for two women to have children together. The initial answer was that it would never be possible (you need both ovum and spermatozoon to create a new being with unique genetic makeup). But then I started following odd trails and it seemed to me that if you have more money than god, a great ob/gyn (great in attitude, skill, and access to cutting edge tech.), very good health and a lot of patience, there would be a way to do it. It's a bit convoluted, and in some ways morally dubious, and involves both women having their ova fertilised in vitro, using donated sperm, then creating a third embryo from the gametes of the first two, and bringing that to term. You would, in effect, be giving birth to your own grandchildren. Or you could try create a chimera--but only if the two women were very similar in appearance, otherwise the poor child would have patchy skin and hair colour, and end up looking a bit like a tortoiseshell cat. Another, much less expensive, tricky, and morally ambiguous alternative would be to have one partner donate the egg, and the other carry it. The child would have no shared genetic material but both women would have contributed to its birth. But, yep, the future is here. Has been for years <g>.

September 14, 2000

I just finished reading your short stories in Realms Of Fantasy. (I loved them, and their open endings. (I've been reading L. Timmel Duchamp essays too, btw.))

My question is: these were "Lessons In What Matters, #1, #4, and #7". Will we be seeing any more of those lessons penned by you?

Oh, and some time ago I dug up a copy of Pulphouse that had Kelley's story, "Somewhere Down The Diamond Back Road", printed in it. Tell her I'm looking forward to reading Solitaire. (I wonder when her page http://www.sff.net/people/kelley/ will be ready. It seems to hae been under construction for a few years now...)

My best wishes to both of you.

Kelley and I have both recently registered our domain names. At some point we'll figure out what to do with them. Kelley tells me that she intends to have a basic website up and running before her novel, Solitaire, comes out. However, as we're not yet sure of the publication date, this means we don't know when the website will go up. My guess would be late next year. The day it goes up, I'll post something to the News section.

The "What Matters" series came about by accident. When I wrote The Blue Place I got carried away with writing a story-in-a-story about a troll and the havoc it wreaks upon a family in ninth-century Norway. For the sake of internal balance, I had to cut the story down, from about thirty pages to about five. After the book came out, I realised I really liked those cut pages. I decided to turn them into a stand-alone piece. But I couldn't find a way to begin or end the narrative because in my mind it was still all tangled up with Aud. So I invented a mysterious narrator, who I ended up liking so much I had to find something else to do with her/him/it (I'm giving away no clues . So I dug a couple of old stories out of storage, did a bit of rewriting, stuck the same framing device around both of them, and sold all three to Realms of Fantasy. I numbered them 1,4, and 7 to give myself plenty of room to add others as and when the mood takes me. In a perfect world, I'd write stories occasionally, and frame them all with the same narrator, then sell the collection to a publisher who will know what to do with it.

For those that missed "Troll Story" in RoF, it will be republished in October in a collection of ghost stories called Ghost Writing, edited by Roger Weingarten, whose other contributors include T. C. Boyle, John Updike, Robert Coover, Alice Munro and others whose names I forget.

September 14, 2000
From Rob Fish, rfish@netscape.com

Nicola, thank you for sharing your imagination, your worlds with us. Your characters are astonishingly real. I have throughly enjoyed your work, and I look forward to your future writing (Red Raw? Any news yet regarding publication?). As mentioned by another poster, I too read only a few pages at a time to prolong each story's feel and universe as long as possible. Best of luck in your future work, and again, thank you so much for sharing it with us. -Rob

No definite news about publication of Red Raw. However, even as I write, wheels are turning; my agent just had lunch with an editor who is very interested in the book. There are one or two questions to resolve, but I'm hoping I'll have some concrete news to report within the next couple of weeks. However, the one thing I know for sure about publishing is that nothing is real, nothing is certain until the contracts are signed, sealed, and delivered, so that's all I want to say at this stage.

May 31, 2000
From Brad, bradrp@netzero.net

I have read and thoroughly enjoyed both Bending the Landscape compilations. I was thrilled to see that the work of Gay and Lesbian science fiction and fantasy writers is being showcased in such a way. As a gay writer of genre fiction I was wondering how such speicalized opportunities are publicized. Where do I look for calls for submissions for alternate sexuality genre fiction? I don't see a lot of it in mainstream magazines.

For Bending the Landscape the call for submissions went out to writers' organisations, such as SFWA (the Science-fiction and Fantasy Writers of America), as well as to a lot of genre-market email lists. A websearch will show you a variety of these (Market Maven, Scavengers, etc.), as well as pointers to print versions. There are also LGBT newsletters with substantial call-for-submissions sections. Two I can think of off the top of my head are Q*ink! (http://www.mongooseontheloose.com/qink/cfs.html), which is a newsletter, website, and chatroom for writers, and Puckerup (contact tristan@puckerup.com), which is a newsletter for the kinkily-inclined. All the usual lesbian and gay literary journals (e.g. Lambda Book Report, The Gay and Lesbian Review, and so on) also have cfs columns. However, if your primary focus is SF/F rather than LGBT, then just write the best fiction you can and submit it to the mainstream genre magazines, such as Realms of Fantasy, Asimov's, Analog, and F&SF. It seems to me that the genre is extremely open to fiction with LGBT content. I've never had any problems; if your work is good enough, someone will buy it.

May 31, 2000
From Silvia Lacayo, sillary@hotmail.com

Yo Nicola, I don't really have a question, just some comments, praise, stuff like that. First off, I read the Blue Place and just finished Slow River, both of which were very kick-ass. It's funny because I've never liked reading and sci-fi even less. Anyway, I loved them. One day I suddenly was curious about lesbians and sci-fi (I wondered "do those two ever get combined?" ha ha, was I surprised). But I couldn't find books at the store, and then I was reading the Xena Alt newsgroup and saw your post and I was like "I must be trippin' because I've been looking for her books, what a coincidence." So I visited your link. Finally I caved in and did a little online shopping. Anyway, then I come to this page to find out you watch Buffy too. Well, I have to say I like your taste in tv shows.

On the Blue Place: I have to admit I was feeling a little sad that I couldn't relate or whatever to art and Europe but then I thought "whatever, Aud is kinda like Xena and Julia is kind of like Gabrielle" and the writing about plants and things...I never think about those but then I started to when you said Americans are lucky because Europe doesn't get such a display of nature.

On Slow River: I loved all the science talk. Even though I couldn't understand it. It's way cool anyway. I even considered lending the book to my brother (he's studying chemical engineering) but then there's the pesky lesbian issue, about which he wouldn't be happy. Oh well.

I'm starting an Octavia Butler book but then I'll see if I can find Ammonite at the lib or something.

Thanks for your writing! Damn, you're very creative. Keep making stuff up because it's very good.

There are a lot of SF/lesbian books and anthologies out there. Circlet Press, for example, does nothing but publish erotic SF/F. But, hey, I'm glad you liked my stuff. Have you read any of the Bending the Landscape anthologies? Ammonite has just gone out of print (sigh) but you could probably find it either by searching speciality bookshops (e.g. gay/lesbian/feminist, or SF/F) which may have a few left in stock, or by checking out Powell's (http://www.powells.com/) for second-hand copies.

If only the Creation people would make the Xena/Gabby thing maintext instead of subtext I'd be lining up to do a novelisation for them....

May 31, 2000

Last year I started a paper on sexual abuse in 20th century literature. I read five or six books--including Slow River--and found that all the instances of abuse were cases of rape where the child was forced to do something against his or her will. This bothered me because having been a psychology major before I switched to English I know two things about sexual abuse. One: Actual forcible rape of a child is quite rare. Children are usually tricked or enticed into having sex. Two: Most victims of sexual abuse actually wish they were raped because at least then they could have the comfort of having said no. Anyway, I was wondering why you and others writers only write about rapes. Is it because you can't imagine being a child and being fooled like that? Or is that you're afraid of going into the mind of a person who is being fooled?

On first reading that comes across as a "When did you stop beating your wife?" question, which I usually interpret as more of a hostile position statement than a genuine inquiry. It also appears to rely upon a horde of assumptions, such as the nature and definition of rape, child and adult psychological development, the nature of coercion, the uses and mechanisms of fiction and of reality, the lumping together in one mental and emotional sack the motivation of all writers, and so on. However, as I'm in a benevolent mood, and as sexual abuse is a rather emotional subject, I'll respond.

It was important to both Lore's psychological unfolding and to the plot of Slow River that her understanding of her family dynamic be all wrong. This would not have been possible if Lore had seen the face or heard the voice of her abuser: it's hard to imagine a character with no voice and no face enticing a child (frightening her, yes, coercing her, definitely). Is my imagination lacking on this point? Very possibly.

As for being fooled--we're all fooled all the time as children, and again as adults. It would require very little imagination to picture how it might feel to be a seven-year-old tricked into having sex (it wouldn't feel good, but it wouldn't be difficult). But that would have led to a certain amount of self-hatred on Lore's part, and I didn't want that to be an overt part of her character. In other words, I manipulated reality to suit my fictional needs. I'm a writer; it's what I do.

May 31, 2000

I've just spent the last three hours reading every question and answer on this web site, which I've thoroughly enjoyed. I've read Slow River and The Blue Place and will be reading Ammonite as soon as I can get hold of a copy. Of the two, I preferred The Blue Place because it seemed more of a character study than Slow River. I picked up Blue Place because you wrote it, but I must say I was quite taken by the picture on the cover -- despite your reservations about it. Perhaps the woman isn't old enough or tough enough for Aud, but the point comes across, I think. It's so refreshing to be able to read about a heroic, though certainly imperfect, lesbian character, to go deeply into her head. Certainly as a reader, if a story is good enough, the personal identity of the character isn't so important, but it's a definite pleasure to come across someone like Aud. I know I'm enjoying a book when I want to read it as fast as possible so I can find out what happens, but I know I love a book when I slow down -- to prolong the pleasure, to savor the experience. There were plenty of times during The Blue Place when I forced myself to stop, to reread, so it wouldn't be over so quickly. And that's the highest compliment I can pay you. Thank you, and I look forward to the sequel.

Well, that's put a slow, wide smile on my face, thank you. Red Raw is more of the same but better I think: deeper, stronger, a little more mature. Aud still beats the crap out of people, but at least she sighs first <g>.

I'm pleased, too, that you enjoyed all the old Ask Nicola. I keep meaning to go back and take a look and see how it holds up, but there's always something more interesting to do....

May 13, 2000
From Wah, suilung@hotmail.com

hello Ms.Griffith
I've been following your writing since Ammonite was first published and have become an admirer of your writing. The first book is incredible and can't be compared to Slow River and the Blue Place which have a different style/mood than your first novel(I'm hoping for a sequel/short story about Company and the world that you created.)As for your 2nd and 3rd book they were different but quite impressive-I am looking forward to next novel-when will it be out?
Congrats on a fabulous first book and con't writing success.

I believe that the difference between Ammonite and my later novels is quantitative rather than qualitative, and it's something I've been thinking about in the few weeks since I finished Red Raw. When I finish a writing project, I can't rest until I decide what I will write next. At any one time, I have ideas for half a dozen novels (and as many short stories and essays and editing projects) circling overhead. I watch them all, and wonder--which will run out of fuel, and crash and burn, before I can get to it. It can be hard to choose. This time, instead of thinking about the story, that is, the product, I've been thinking about the writing itself and how it feels, that is, the process.

Essentially, I've been asking myself why I write. The obvious answer is that I write because it feels good. So then I started thinking about what bits of what novels felt better better than others to write, and why. I was startled to find that what really gives me a buzz is a sense of exploration. I remember very clearly writing Ammonite, discovering along with Marghe how a whole alien planet looked and smelt and tasted; what different populations did to support themselves; the multitude of strange flora and fauna that might grow in various conditions; how those same conditions would affect people.... And then I remembered how it felt to describe Lore, in Slow River, putting together a plan to clean up the Aral Sea using really, really cool science and technology; how it might feel to breathe liquid; what it would be like to be young and injured and alone in the future. And in The Blue Place walking with Aud on the glacier, and thinking about the building of stave churches, and how to make a rocking chair. In Red Raw, sending Aud off into the Pisgah National Forest, and watching her rebuild a log cabin. There is nothing like getting inside a person, first, and a whole culture, second, and exploring a place or a time through their eyes--discovering how the world felt and smelt and tasted, what dreams and beliefs and meals they shared, to what extent what they saw and wore and needed was or was not alien. But here's the interesting part: in each case, the place or attitude or skill was something unfamiliar to me. I don't know one end of drawknife from another; I've never been to Norway or Pisgah; the workings of sewage plants, alien viruses and the politics of the rich and famous are a mystery to me. And that's the point: I write to discover the new. I love making stuff up.

After I finished Red Raw I realised that although I'm eager to find out what happens to Aud next, to some extent I know her and how her mind works. What I want to play with now is someone, in some culture, some time and place, I haven't been able to visit--that no one has--and it dawned on me that it might be time to write that big old seventh century historical novel I've been muttering about for years. So right now I'm reading about Celts and Anglo-Saxons, the church, early middle ages farming methods, ancient Scandinavian myth, the evolving role of women in North European temporal and spiritual arenas, and so on. I'm happy as a clam. I have grandiose visions for this novel: the same kind of exploration on the geological and gender scale as Ammonite, the same personal growth and class struggle in Slow River, the same physical exhilaration and sense of personal power as The Blue Place, and the same hard lessons learnt and new strength found as Red Raw. I am very excited! Of course, books always twist under my hand and grow into something unexpected, but, hey, I don't care, I haven't been as excited about a book since...well, since the last time I started one <g>.

May 13, 2000
From Michelle Hampton, hampjm@earthlink.com

Although this isn't a question, I thought you might find it interesting to look at this page reference at http://www.abcnews.go.com/sections/science/DailyNews/superbug991228.html. The article content regards the use of altered bacteria for removal of toxic waste.

It's amazing how much the fiction eventually looks like reality.
Happy Holidays to you and yours.

I based most of the bioremediation in Slow River on waste water research being reported in 1993. Some of the research was theoretical, some practical but extremely small scale; some was just, well, wild speculation. For fictional purposes, I assumed that not only would the wild slivers of speculative science prove to be true, but that everything would scale up, and theory would translate to practice, without any glitches. One of the reasons I love fiction is that you can do this without some government agency breathing down your neck and recalling its grant, or millions of people dying because you forgot to multiply by two, or colleagues at other research and educational institutions railing against your bad science and hopeless optimism. Fiction is definitely more fun.

There was a fair amount of wish fulfillment going on, too. I am, frankly, quite frightened about what is happening in the world with regard to pollution and depletion of natural resources. Water is going to be the most precious and fought-over commodity of the twenty-first century. The huge and terrible things that have been done to our lakes and rivers and seas are going to demand some equally huge and heroic response--either in the form of tiny microbes and even smaller nanobots, or massive public engineering works.

Europe and North America are going to have to lead the way--our cultures have reached a place (a certain technological expertise, sufficient ready capital, low population growth, reasonable urban infrastructure and so on) from which it's possible to take a breath, look around, and assess likely developments. Other cultures, such as China, aren't there yet: they are still forging ahead with Big Projects, trying to drag their country into the industrial (never mind the information) age. The Three Gorges Dam project, for example, makes me feel ill--but to shout and stamp my feet and say, "No! They shouldn't be allowed to do that!" would be hypocritical. After all, it's no worse that what happened in Tennessee and to the Colorado (and so on and so forth) last century. But, ah, I'm disappointed; I'd hoped that by the time China had the money and expertise for such massive projects, technology and our understanding of the natural world would have progressed to the point that human needs could be catered to without destroying whole ecosystems. A huge percentage of the world's population live in China and India; this century many of them are going to start demanding what we in the West already have: phones and cars, more clothes than we can wear and more food than we can eat, vitamins we don't really need and entertainment most of us don't want, big houses we heat in winter while wearing t-shirts and cool in summer while wearing sweaters. Who in their right minds would want to give up toothpaste and electricity and disposable tampons and plastic wrap? Not me, certainly. So why should anyone else, no matter where they live? Which means things are going to get a lot worse and for a long time before they get better. I really hope there are a million people working on bioremediation right now. We're going to need it.

May 13, 2000

I'm actually trying to send mail to Kelley Eskridge-- after browsing the web for about an hour, this is as close an email address as I have been able to find! I had the pleasure of reading "Eye of the Storm," and was wondering if Ms. Eskridge had published (or is planning to) a full novel, and if there were a collection of her short stories... If you'd be willing to pass this on to her, I'd appreciate it.

Thanks,

I've already passed your email along to Kelley who will respond to you privately, but let me take this opportunity to refer readers to Kelley's bibliography which can be found in an earlier Ask Nicola answer. Kelley hasn't written any short fiction since "The Eye of the Storm" (in Sirens and Other Demon Lovers, ed. Ellen Datlow) because she's been busy with her novel, Solitaire. So busy, in fact, that I've been a book widow, stuck on my own every evening for weeks while Kelley whacks away at her keyboard in her basement office. Sniff. But Solitaire is now finished, and will be published by Harpercollins/Eos, probably next summer. I'll post a notice to the News section as soon as we have a firm date.

Solitaire is a really good piece of work, treating a couple of subjects not often dealt with in science fiction--and the middle section is a writing tour de force.

As for a collection of her short fiction, she has no plans at this time, other than the three-way collaboration I've mentioned more than once, Women and Other Aliens, which, believe it or not, is actually progressing. More on that at a later date.

May 13, 2000

I came across Slow River via a collaborative book recommender (http://www.alexlit.com)/) and was immediately fascinated. Now that I've stumbled across this site, some of your interviews have sparked a whole mess of questions in my head. Since your comments helped get these rocks rolling, I thought I'd ask you, too:

After reading the history of mind/body dualism in "Writing from the Body," I was suddenly reminded of the Terry Bisson short story "They're Made Out of Meat" (http://www.terrybisson.com/meat.html). I've enjoyed the humor of it without really connecting it to the idea that flesh is what holds minds back. Now I wonder if the story functions as a satire, or at least a pointed reminder that the human mind is far from ethereal.

The intro to your interview with January Magazine (http://www.januarymagazine.com/profiles/griffith.html) quotes you as saying about Ammonite, "I'm the author, I'm a lesbian. My protagonist is a lesbian, and she has a lesbian love affair. [But] it's no more a book about being lesbian than [William Gibson's] Neuromancer is a book about coming to terms with one's heterosexuality." That statement is not only a nice, crisp way of getting your point across, but it also raises the question of what books there are about "coming to terms with one's heterosexuality"--not the mass of coming-of-age stories, but a real examination of what it means to be het. Maybe not a question you're curious about, but I always wonder about what it's like to be someone whose experiences differ from mine.

You mention (on http://www.sff.net/people/nicola/an_archive6.htp) that you "subscribe to the Nike school of philosophy: Just Do It. If you sit around and fret about it, you're not getting on with your life. [...] People look for the magic bullet (a no-diet, no-exercise way to lose weight; a no-study way to get a degree; a no-sweat way to become a black belt) but there isn't one. If you're a lesbian, go fall in love (or just have sex with, depending on your personality) a woman, and get on with enjoying your life." I know your emphasis in this was that there's no way to accomplish something other than to get started on it, but I wonder what it has to say to a bisexual in a long-term monogamous relationship (purely hypothetical situation, of course). I don't think that my nature is adequately described by my outward actions alone. I suspect that for many people, inconfidence and ambivalence are in fact part of who they are, not just impediments towards becoming themselves. I'm not saying this is admirable or flattering, just common.

Thank you for your wonderful and thought-provoking writing, both in your books and here on your site!

Bisson is a sly, sly writer, but in the case of "They're Made Out of Meat" I think his point is pretty obvious: we are our bodies, and no matter how many stories some of us read about jacking into the machine, no matter how many of us dream about uploading ourselves into a virtual world, the only way to know, feel and understand the universe is through the flesh, because the flesh is us and we are our flesh. He's saying There is nothing else and at the same time acknowledging that there are people out there who genuinely find the body distasteful, so distasteful that they are alienated from themselves. In the hands of writers like Bisson, science fiction does a wonderful job of making the metaphor concrete.

A few years ago, a lesbian feminist poet and fiction writer called Jan Clausen fell in love with a man. Her memoir, Apples and Oranges, published in January 1999 by Houghton Mifflin, is subtitled "My Journey to Sexual Identity." It's the kind of title that catches my attention. I decided I would buy it, until I read the reviews, which imply it's less an exploration of how she feels about who she and who she's attracted to than a consideration of what and how others think of her. But now I've just read your question, and thought about the whole thing again, and started wondering what personal sexual identity is, exactly. It's a bit like gender: not something we think or care about except in terms of how others treat us. I never go around thinking, "I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl," or "I'm a dyke, I'm a dyke, I'm a dyke." I think, "I'm me, I'm me, I'm me." Except, for example, when it's two in the morning, one winter in 1983 in a rough northern city, and I'm drunk and staggering down a deserted street, humming happily to myself, only to look up and see eight men, equally drunk, staggering up the road on a collision course, wolf-whistling. Then I think about the fact that I'm a woman and a dyke, because I know that's how they'll see and treat me: as an object of contempt--as an apparently vulnerable object of contempt. At times like this you have to think in gender and sexuality terms in order to understand what might happen and to mitigate the potential result. (Which in this instance I did by stopping, pointing at the biggest, saying, "Okay, you first. Would you rather I broke your right leg or your left leg?" and giving him a beatific smile. They all reared back in bleary surprise, then we swapped a few "Fucking dyke!" and "Drunken arseholes!" and tottered on our separate ways.)

Writing about being a teenager and realising one is a dyke (or gay man, or bisexual, or transsexual, or whatever) has usually been cast in terms of suddenly finding out one is different. That's what all the coming out books are about (and why they get so mind-numbingly boring after you've read three or four). If we try to think of "coming to terms with being heterosexual" in the same terms, it doesn't make sense: what is there to come to terms with? It would become writing about being a sexual human being, taking the first steps along the path to adulthood, in other words, a coming of age novel. As you point out, there are plenty of those.

It seems to me that--here in urban North America, anyway--society is reaching the point where being gay and being straight aren't much different. If you're a dyke, you can still have a job, gain some measure of legal protection (if you can afford the lawyers for the wills and health care directives and powers of attorney, etc. etc, and are willing to fight the government on little things like immigration issues and prison visiting...) have kids, buy a house with your partner and so on. You still get old or get sick, get promoted or win the lottery, have to decide where to go on holiday or what kind of shoes to buy. Lust is the same, whether felt for a boy or a girl, and so is love. Some things, though, are different: the kind of sex you have can vary at least a little depending on what does or doesn't dangle; the kind of conversations you have will vary, depending on whether you're both speaking the same variety of gendered language.... What I'm trying to say is that the social and political differences are growing less and less, certainly if you have money and live in a city, but perhaps the personal and relational differences still exist. But are those differences of another order of magnitude than, say, those of nationality, mother tongue, religion, class, or personality type? I don't know. It's an interesting thing to think about; maybe someone is writing about it right now.

I agree with your assertion that for some people ambivalence is part of who they are. I don't believe we have to make up our minds definitely about everything; I believe it's possible to hold several conflicting ideas in one's head at any one time. I do this frequently--either because I can't resolve the apparent dilemma, or there's no reason to, or I'm simply waiting for more information. Life doesn't have to be a series of yes/no, on/off, black/white propositions. You were right in assuming that my comments pertained to achieving goals; you can't get anywhere unless you begin. However, I'm a little confused about your hypothetical bisexual in a monogamous relationship and how that example might relate to my comment. If someone is committed to a long-term monogamous relationship, then I assume they are happy (otherwise why commit?). So what is there to fret about? Being bisexual doesn't mean you have to have sex with both sexes to be happy; it simply means you are capable of loving/lusting after both sexes, that what's important to you is the person, not their biological sex. Bisexuality isn't ambivalence, it's inclusiveness. I don't think it's any harder for a bisexual to commit to one person than it is for a gay or straight person. My point in that AN reply (if I recall correctly: it's been a while) was that if you are unhappy, then do something, don't just complain or fret or worry or talk about it; think about it, then take action; happiness takes work. I was not implying for a second that a) it's a bad thing to weigh choices for a while, or b) having made a choice one can't change one's mind. Sometimes the only way to learn is by making the wrong choices.

Inexpert and amateur therapists have led many people to assume that if we think about a problem long enough to understand it, then that problem will miraculously vanish. I don't believe this is true. Just because I understand something doesn't make that something better. For example, if I realise I'm angry, that sudden knowledge doesn't make the anger go away, it means that I have to work out why I'm angry. Once I've thought about the anger enough to understand what's causing it then I have to do something to change those circumstances. Although the thinking and then the understanding are necessary precursors, it's the doing that effects change and makes the anger go away. The doing, of course, just to confuse the issue, could be as simple as trying to remember to think about something differently <g>.

May 13, 2000
From Garry Garrett, gsgarrett2@fuse.net

So, it appears you're "coming back" at least in the direction of SF as evidenced by, what was it?, 2-3 stories coming out in Realms of Fantasy this year. Is it to soon to say, "welcome back"? Anyway, which way do you think you're headed? Were I to venture a guess, based on your comments about the strong Seattle SF contingent (LeQuin, McIntyre, et. al.) I'd say the "peer" pressure or maybe the comradarie might have its effects. Although it's against my religion (really, though, it's a time and priority thing) I'll have to pick up these issues of Realms.

Congratulations on your short in Nature, quite an honor in my opinion! To be published next to the worlds greatest works of Science is something. I wrote you earlier on your handling of the "technical" aspects of futuristic bioremediation in Slow River. I think the staff at Nature must think likewise.

On MS-Don't really know much about the biochem. though I would like to comment on the motivations of the pharmaceutical industry. To keep it on the positive let's just say I see considerable hope for the future. Consider the Human Genome Project. Johnson & Johnson, recently reported a very short development time (18 mo.s) from inception to clinicals based primarily on the use of genomic data. This holds much hope for many. Even so-called "orphan drugs" (I don't know if MS falls in this category) then might have a greater likelyhood of being developed since the development costs will be lower. We are looking at an unprecedented boom in medicine. Also, consider AIDS research. Political pressure has come to bear on increased funding of research on this disease. Those who claims not enough money is being spent, I think, have blinders on. I see the literature, I follow, companies and a lot is being done. Regardless, the fringe benefits on AIDS research will be successful treatments, even cures, for other viral illness, even the common cold (I don't mean to compare AIDS and the cold so don't think it.)

See you in Chicago this summer?
Thanks and best wishes,
Garry Garrett

My three short stories, "Troll Story," "Libby Thomas's Chemistry Set" and "Princess Fat Grits" all appear in the June 2000 issue of Realms of Fantasy (which will probably be on sale until the end of May and vanish after that). They're not my usual fare. The troll story is an expansion of the story in The Blue Place; the other two are fairly short, and meant to be lightly ironic--not unlike the Nature piece. I'll look forward to hearing what readers make of them. This does not herald a Triumphant Return to SF because a) I don't feel as though I've been away, really, and b) I think my next project is going to be a big historical novel set in the north of Britain in the seventh century, rather than science fiction.

The novel I'm contemplating won't be fantasy per se but will have some of the feel of that genre because of the mindset of the people of that time. For those who have read Mary Renault's Alexander trilogy--and I'm thinking here particularly of Fire from Heaven--what I'm aiming for is the kind of mythopoeic thinking Alexander and his contemporaries were prone to. It will be interesting to view the world through that particular lens.

Drugs for the treatment of MS do come under the aegis of the government's "orphan drug" provisions. This is both a good and a bad thing--but I don't particularly want to get into a discussion of the pros and cons of capitalism here. I do agree that the progress being made in biotechnology is phenomenal, but I don't see any really useful MS therapies on the horizon. The more we learn of the immune system, the more complicated it seems; it's like the web multiplied to the third power; insanely interconnected and complex. If any miraculous therapies appear, well and good; meanwhile I'll just keep living my life.

I won't be in Chicago this summer. With luck I won't be anywhere this summer except my own back garden, drinking tea and reading about Anglo-Saxons. Bliss.

May 13, 2000

ms. griffith,i am now a huge fan of your work since having read ammonite, slow river, and my favorite, the blue place. i have also seen that you are considering giving up writing for a short time. that would be a terrible loss for me as well as countless other fans. is this horrid rumor true? one final thing, when do you expect your next novel to be released? thank you and keep dishing out those great stories for me, you are a great talent.

Where on earth did you hear that? I could no more give up writing that I could talking. It's part of who I am. I always take a bit of a breather between projects--I have to, not only because I get so tired, but because my writing well fills slowly --but deliberately giving it up? Never.

As for my next book, it is Red Raw, another Aud novel, and although I don't yet have a firm contract with a publisher, I'm hoping it will be published some time next year.

May 13, 2000

I am a grandmother of a 16 yr.old grand daughter that i have been raising for 6 years. and i really want to know some signs because i feel maybe she has thoughts of lesbian.I amso worried--not if she chooses to be --only for what it seems to be doing to her. She will not talk to me about anything,I have a son who is gay and i have no problem when a person is gay. i do not love them less-- i just totally accept something that i cannot change.I need some help and don't know who to turn to for advise or help without her knowing--i just want to prepare and help her the best way i can--Thank You

This is hard to answer without more information. For example, what does thinking she might be a lesbian seem to be doing to her--how is she behaving? If you haven't talked to her about this, how do you know that this is what's going on? I'm also curious as to why you don't want her to know that you're asking for help. With nothing to go on, I can't really offer you any insight. Perhaps there are some organisations in your area that could help. In the phone book there's probably a listing for the local chapter of P-FLAG (Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays), which would give you some support, as well as your grand-daughter. Check to see if there's a gay or lesbian community centre advertised, too--though the best place to find this might be in your local alternative newspaper.

There are as many different ways to react to the sudden realisation you're a dyke as there are people: delight, horror, confusion, acceptance with a little anxiety about friends and family will react, relief, anger...etc. etc. My own reaction (I was thirteen) was, "Oh. I see. Huh. Well, I'll have to keep that under my hat for a couple of years." I was at an all-girls Catholic convent school which, in the north of England in the early seventies, was not the best place to discover you're not straight. When I was sixteen, I was old enough--and legal enough--to do what I liked. That's when I officially came out.

"Came out" seems like such an antiquated concept to me today, but even given the changes of the last twenty-five years, I imagine there are many young men and women for whom it's still a frightening step. I remember the first time I ever said "lesbian" out loud. It took me hours to get the word out: "lesbian" seemed so...alien. And then last week I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, (where Willow tells Buffy that things are, like, complicated because she sort of, um, feels stuff for Tara) and realised that for a whole new generation there will now be an easier way to tell your best friend you're a dyke; you could do it over lunch: "I'm, like, more on the Willow side of the equation. Pass the salt." Or, as Faith (who is the Evil, Wicked face of Slayerdom) might say in the same situation: "I don't drive stick anymore." Thanks to such TV programming, being a dyke doesn't carry the same stigma that it used to--it still isn't easy, but nothing is when you're a teenager.

If she won't talk to you, perhaps it might help to approach the problem from the other side: you do the talking, about how you feel about her, what your worries are, how you don't care if she's gay or not. Perhaps if you don't demand answers she will at least listen. Perhaps hearing how much you love her, and that you accept her just the way she is, will help her feel brave enough to talk to you. I wish I had a magic solution, but perhaps all you can do is make things as easy for her as possible, and then wait.

April 16, 2000
From Doree Huneven, dhuneven@aol.com

Dear Nicola,
I just finished reading "The Blue Place," and I've also read "Slow River" and "Ammonite," in that order---all with GREAT enjoyment and admiration. I started out being a big fan of your marvellous style---particularly your detailed, atmospheric and --how shall I put it---"high-association-density" descriptions. Then I was drawn to your compelling narratives---- your "can't-put-down" plots. (Are you getting the idea that I like your writing?) As I've been out for 4 years, I HIGHLY APPRECIATE the fact that your characters' sexuality is so completely matter of course, as this seems unique in gay writing being done today. As an additional bonus, I am newly initiated into "clubs" that I had no idea existed before: the Lesbian Superwoman in Science Fiction and the Lesbian Superwoman in Mystery/Suspense Clubs! (And I usually don't read sf or mysteries at all!) By "The Blue Place," I was able to contain my walloping inferiority complex re:not being able to come NEAR your characters in terms of youth, physical prowess, and incredible knowledge of What To Do in Any Difficult Situation, and just enjoy them. God knows, you created all of them with definite limitations, even after they change and evolve in the course of the novels. Now, finally, for my question: Nicola, do you have any plans to write a novel (or short story, or novella---in any genre) with an Ordinary heroine? Granted, all of us are extraordinary in some way or another, but, say, an Alice Munro or William Trevor or Hortense Calisher type of heroine, for example, who can't even put in a new washer, not to mention repair futuristic water treatment plants.

Thank you very very very much for being brave enough and persistent enough to be a writer. You have added immeasurably to my life.

Interesting question. My first response was an instant "No, because ordinary characters aren't heroes, they're merely protagonists," which shut me up in a hurry and made me think hard. It was a little startling to realise that you're right: all the main characters in my novels are more than ordinary--although, as you say, with many and definite limitations. In a sense, of course, most people have something extraordinary to call their own, some talent or hobby or trait that makes them special--whether it's making the best bread in three states, bringing warmth and laughter to a party, always knowing what to say in a hard situation, or being able to always get a cat to swallow its antibiotics. It's just that it's never occurred to me to write a whole novel around one of them.

My short fiction, on the other hand, is full of main characters who are ordinary people. Strange things happen to them, yes, and they meet people who do have odd gifts, but they themselves are not special: the narrator of "Song of Bullfrogs, Cry of Geese," has no particular talent, nor does the woman who tells "Touching Fire" (though her girlfriend is talented--but a major whacko). Similarly the characters of "We Have Met the Alien" and "Yaguara" and "Wearing My Skin" and "Down the Path of the Sun"...in fact every piece of short fiction I've ever written, are quite plain people. They are also often quite a bit more passive than the protagonists of my novels, which really gave me pause for thought.

Do I believe that those who have no special talent are doomed to be passive, that is, that only extraordinary people can actively control their lives? No. But perhaps having a gift, and knowing you have it, tends to make you a more confident person. More confidence means you're more likely to at least try get what you want. This is especially true of young people; the older you get, the less you need the special thing to hang onto and hide behind. My novels, so far, have been about relatively young people. Aud, though, is getting older; it may or may not be coincidence that we'll be seeing her as a more vulnerable and exposed person--less supernaturally competent and more ordinarily so.

I wonder if this ordinary/extraordinary divide has anything to do with genre. Two of the many ideas for novels currently beetling around in my brain are neither are sf/f nor suspense. The first is a novel in four parts, four novellas, about the ways in which you can lose your partner. The second is an historical novel about an abbess. Both, interestingly enough, would be told from the viewpoint of an ordinary woman in her thirties, or maybe forties. However, a third novel idea--the big old sword-swinging fantasy I threaten people with occasionally--is stuffed to the gills with people wielding strange talents. There again most of them are rather young....

Oh, this is very, very interesting! All these connections between adventure and genre and youth and ordinariness or lack of it. I will have to think about this some more and get back to you.

April 16, 2000

My name is Jay Adams, and I teach a speculative fiction course at Lakewood High School near Marysville. I was wondering if you could find it in your heart, and schedule, to come talk to my class sometime this spring. Last year Greg Bear came up and visited with us. It was great. He refused to really discuss publishing and that sort of thing, but simply bounced ideas off the kids for two hours. I can offer you a tasty LHS lunch and a snappy new LHS t-shirt! I enjoyed Slow River. Best of luck on your future work.

At the moment I am so tired I'm having to refuse all invitations. The book has drained me dry, and my MS is being vicious: I can't afford to take on anything I don't absolutely have to. I'm hoping that now my novel is out of the way, a few weeks' rest will replenish the well, but last time it took months, not weeks, so I can't even promise that you'll have more success if you ask me again in the autumn. This is normally something I would really get a kick out doing--one of best times I had Being An Author was in a school a few years ago in England--but this time I have to say no. I'm sorry.

April 16, 2000
From Carol Schmidt, ajcarol@mindspring.com

I changed ISPs and lost your address so am attempting to reach you whatever way I can. I am finding that my disability interferes with my concentration and organizational abilities, even though it has nothing to do with my mind, my disability is solely related to my gut.

I'm wondering if the state of being diagnosed with a serious disability in itself does a number on our heads so that we shift into a less-capable mode. If so, I suppose it is possible to reverse that shift and regain our strengths that are not specifically affected by our illnesses, but I haven't figured out how yet.

Perhaps it is a depression upon losing our former wholeness/health/identity, and perhaps it can be shaken off by therapy, support groups, or maybe even Prozac et al. Perhaps the depression eases on its own as years pass and adjustments are made. Perhaps not.

Have you ever felt a seige of depression since your diagnosis, and if so, how did you get out of it? If you'd rather reply to this personally, note my new address, AJCarol@mindspring.com. Thanks, and I have to say I appreciate this website. You are so open to the world!
Carol Schmidt

Although I know there are those who tell themselves that what they're feeling stems from Event A, or properly belongs to Box B, I don't think it's that simple. I believe that nothing which makes us who we are--what we think and feel and believe and smell and see, why we hurt and how we love, what we fear and who we treasure--exists in isolation. Illness affects not only the body but the intellect, our emotions, the way we approach the world, and the way others in the world see us. It's all connected.

A serious diagnosis is a shock (which can lead to depression, and so on) and a change in our public label. We go from being "normal" to being "disabled." Labelling theory is a rather simplistic but occasionally useful sociological tool which states, roughly, that if you believe someone to be, say, a criminal, you will start treating them as a criminal, which means they will start to feel like a criminal and eventually start acting as a criminal. I think this happens a lot when we're first sick. "You're a cripple," the world tells us, and, still in shock, we sink into our chairs, nod our heads and murmur, "Yes, yes, I think you might be right." When the shock wears off, we can be so far down in the box we don't see a way back out.

I've been through all kinds of emotional phases about having MS. I've despaired, and been angry, or apathetic, or brittle, or in denial, or philosophical, or brave, or pragmatic--sometimes all on the same day. Sometimes one of those phases can last months. It can be hard to tell whether the mood and/or physical change is a result of the illness itself or of how I and others feel about it. For example, fatigue is one of my biggest symptoms--but it can be very difficult to tell fatigue and depression apart. Which comes first, the chicken or the egg? Am I miserable because I hate the fact that I'll never, ever go hiking again, or am I feeling melancholy because my neurochemistry is wildly out of balance? There are those who argue that illness and depression, or at least the appearance of depression, are inextricably linked. (How many people feel chirpy--want to go out and make new friends, visit new places, see new things--when they have flu, for example?) As I've said before, I've come to believe that these things aren't so easily separated, so now I try not to worry about it too much. That might sound flippant; it's not. I spent a long, long time being what Kelley calls The Fret Queen of the Universe. I've fought very hard to reach the place where I can accept that I can't always know and I often can't find out, and to just set the whole thing to one side. This does not mean I float through life untouched by the vagaries of human existence; it means that after I've tried everything I can think of, after I've bashed my head against the problem, tried talking to experts, doing my own research, all kinds of regimens--physical and mental--I stop worrying. I don't stop trying, but I temporarily set it aside and pay attention to something else. Because there is always something else.

One of the things about having MS that has nearly driven me mad is the disease's unpredictability: when I take pill A, and get better, it doesn't necessarily mean that pill A has done me any good; in fact, it could be hurting me. If I undertake exercise regimen B, and get worse, it doesn't mean that the exercise is bad for me. I think the closest I came to giving up was the summer and autumn of 1997. After the winter and spring of that year, when I'd been watching what I ate, trying to exercise my poor, sad muscles, and doing my utmost to get a decent amount of sleep every night, I started to get a bit better. I was delighted. I thought, "Oh, god, I can do this! I won't end up in a wheelchair!" and then, for no particular reason, everything just went to hell. I was in hospital on an IV three times in six months. When I was a child, my little sister used to dig worms from the garden and put them in a dry watering can; she'd then watch with interest while they hauled and humped their way to the rim of the can. When they got to the top, she'd flick them back to the bottom to start all over again. In 1997, I felt like a worm in a can. I got depressed.

I remember it very clearly. It was October; Kelley and I were in New York seeing agents and editors and publishers about our novels (this was nine months before The Blue Place came out). We were having dinner in the Hilton. I was tired, and unhappy about the way my editor was planning to position my book and even more unhappy about my inability to do anything about it. We decided that we'd cheer ourselves up by drinking a nice bottle of wine and planning a holiday for next spring. So we started talking. Kelley would suggest something--I can't remember the details, a week on the beach, say, or trip down the Grand Canyon--and I'd shoot it down. "No," I'd say, "I won't be able to walk on the beach. No, I won't be able to get in and out of the boats. I'll be too tired. I won't enjoy it." After a while, she got quiet. Then she looked at me, and asked if I was just giving up. And I burst into tears. I wept for about an hour, right in the middle of the restaurant. The waiters scurried about, I wiped my face on napkin after napkin, and then Kelley started crying, too. So there we were, ten o'clock at night in the midtown Hilton, clutching at each other and wailing like banshees, until the tears started to dry up. At that point I realised I had a simple choice: give up, or fight. So I took a deep breath, held Kelley's hand, and told her that when we got back to Seattle I'd talk to the doctor about some physiotherapy.

And that's what I did. I did some physio; it worked wonders. I could walk beautifully again, and felt so great I started aikido. I was on top of the world. And then, again, it all went to hell: my brain turned to mud, I went more or less blind in one eye, my right leg wouldn't move, and my right arm was as clumsy as a two year-old's. I went back on the IV. It didn't help much. I went on it again. I couldn't even read I was so tired--and when I could hold the book and see the text, I couldn't understand what I read, or remember it next time I picked the book up. I'd been flicked back to the bottom of the can. Again. I had to cancel planned speaking and teaching gigs to Leipzig in Germany, and to MIT and Penn State over here. That's when I realised this was going to keep happening, over and over and over again. No matter what I did, no matter what kind of bargain I struck with the universe, I was always going to have MS, and it was going to keep getting worse. The Blue Place came out. In a haze of grief I found the energy to do three or four readings. I had more IV treatments. I started being able to think in sentences again. I could pick things up without dropping them, and could see pretty well out of both eyes. But my leg didn't get much better.

A year ago, I finally had the energy to start a new book. Six months ago, I found the energy to start physiotherapy again. It was hard, at first: I would move my right foot an inch, and rest, move it an inch, and rest. After ten minutes of moving my foot a few inches, I would have to go home. Now I've finished my novel, and I can do thirty minutes of physiotherapy. I still can't walk without a stick; maybe I'll never do that again--but maybe I will. MS, after all, is unpredictable.

As I said earlier, I try not to worry about that anymore. I don't succeed all the time. Every now and again I dream about running, or playing tennis, or even being able to walk blithely up a flight of stairs, and I wake crying. Every now and again I can barely speak I am so angry at the universe for taking my life away--and Kelley's. I'll never learn to fence, I'll never do aikido or karate or tai chi again, I'll never be able to ramble over the Yorkshire moors or walk the city streets on my own at four in the morning. Nothing can change that. If anyone who has had MS for five years tells me they've never been depressed, they are either insane or lying. But I've been ill for years, now, and I'm finally working out that MS isn't my life. It's one of the limitations on my life, but it's not my life. It's fine to feel sorry for myself every now and again, for an hour or so, because it's inevitable; there's a lot to grieve for. But in the end, why keep on feeling sorry for myself? It doesn't achieve anything. Yes, I mourn the person I was, I mourn what I used to be able to do and the unconscious ease with which I did it, but so what? A few questions ago someone asked me: What is the meaning of life? The meaning of life is not to be miserable, but to be more: to feel more, to do more and think more and understand more, to explain more and teach more and write more, to love more and be loved more. Feeling bad doesn't get me that.

I've never taken Prozac but I do take something called SAM-e, an over-the-counter pill that affects ATP production and has helped to some extent. Or maybe it's just the placebo effect; I don't care. I've never had therapy of any kind, but I do talk to my friends, and family, and I write. Without essays and fiction I'm not sure how I'd cope. Most importantly, I have Kelley; without her I suspect I might be telling quite a different story. I feel better since I've realised that the point is to fight. Winning is important, don't get me wrong, and if there was some way I could beat this fucking disease, I'd do it in a heartbeat, even if it meant murdering little old ladies or driving several animal species to extinction, but what really makes a difference to how I feel, day in and day out, is the fighting itself. Giving up made me feel bad. I don't think I'll ever do it again.

April 16, 2000

I would first like to thank you for writing The blue place. It was an incredible book, not only because it was a refreshing story, but also because it was really powerful. I loved the end, it was sad, but I thought it was perfect.

I just got Ammonite and I cannot wait to read it.

My question is if you know any Wing Chun places in Seattle, or surroundings, that are not Miller's Martial Arts nor the other school in Shoreline. I know those two schools teach Wing Chun Do, however I am interested in either Wing Chun or Wing Chund Do. I have 1 1/2 years of experience in Wing Chun Do, and I love it. I had to stop training because of the politics of the school. Now, I want to go back, but I cannot find a school that teaches it.

If you do not know any, what art could you recommend that has the same, or similar, principles? I tried Tae Kown do, and did not like it at all.

Thank you very much.

A friend of mine is training to be an assistant instructor at the Chinese Wushu and Tai Chi Academy in the International district here in Seattle. The school's teacher is Master Yijiao Hong--and I'm assured she's just about the best there is. Wushu is a much more active, fast-moving style than tai chi--it might suit someone who likes Wing Chun.

April 10, 2000

Well, I read The Blue Place , the Slow River and the Ammonite , and I must say that The Blue Place was my favourite! So, when is Red Raw coming out? I'm dying to find out what happened to Aud. The descriptions were so vivid in The Blue Place , it's as if I travelled to Norway through your book. I did find the sexual abuse in Slow River disturbing, but I'm assuming that was the point: my girlfriend wrote a Sociology paper on "Women who Sexually Abuse". I'm happy to hear Slow River wasn't based on real life experiences... I was wondering if you ever visit Canada? We'd be happy to have you!

Red Raw is, finally, finished. My agent is reading it even as I type this. It took seven rewrites, but it's done. I won't be rewriting again unless and until some editor waves a big fat cheque at me as an inducement--and even then their argument would have to be very, very persuasive. Which all means I'm afraid I don't yet have any idea when RR will be published, or even by whom. One thing I can tell you is that there is a fair amount of description in this novel, too--it's one of my vices--this time of Pisgah National Forest, in North Carolina. It's a green and fecund place, parts of which have been growing, essentially uninterrupted, for two hundred million years.

It's my belief that if one is going to talk about sexual abuse it had better be disturbing to the reader. Such subjects should be felt--the reader shown the profound impact, that it really happens, that it really hurts--rather than thrown into the mix simply for a frisson, or dubious shock value, and casually tossed aside to suit the vagaries of the plot. The sexual abuse in Slow River, while not autobiographical, is in some sense based on my real life experience because I imagine the way I imagine--the who, the how, the why, the what--as a direct result of the experiences I've had: people I've met, conversations I've had, the interaction of both with own hopes and fears and dreams.

I've visited Canada twice (Victoria first, then Vancouver) and thoroughly enjoyed myself both times. If I had to choose one city over the other, then I'd pick Vancouver: excellent dining and great bookshops (most of which actually stocked my books--very gratifying). With any luck, the publicity budget for RR will include travel up and down the West Coast--Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, Vancouver--as well as Seattle. Whether or not I manage the rest of the country depends to a large extent on my health. If and when tour details are finalised, I'll post them on the Appearances page and you can send me email--maybe we could hook up for coffee or something.

April 10, 2000

Hello There,
This is mainly a letter of appreciation and praise (and i could not find an email on the website to contact, so this will have to do). I will try to think of a question by the end of this rambling though... I have to admit that i am not a long time fan (and before today was not even aware of your existance) but happened to be reading through the Dec 9 issue of Nature and come across your little bit o fiction. I found it to be one of the most entertaining things i have read in a very long time. That is mainly why i am writing, to simply say that your wit, slight <cough> sarcasm and simply your style was very entertaining. Good job, is pretty much what it boils down to. And you may have just found yourself another fan (time to make a trip to the book storee - ooh goody!). I have to say though, i think that what finally won me over was the Tolkein refernce at the end - subtle and absolutely wonderful.

So, thank you for brightening up my day, and keep up the good work. Chris D.
PS - Got a question (since this is 'ask Nicola' after all). Here goes: Just what is the meaning of life? (Old favorites never die, i suppose).

I got a kick out of writing that piece. In early June my contract with Nature will allow me to post it here. When I do, I'll put a note in the News section.

It was an interesting challenge to try to write something genuinely science fictional, futuristic, and entertaining in less than eight hundred words. Although I like to think there's a certain amount of joy in my fiction, out and out humour has often been a bit sparse. This isn't true of my everyday life, so I think it's high time some of it crept into my fiction. It did (very tentatively, and largely unrecognisably to most Americans <sigh>) in The Blue Place, and much more so in Red Raw (though, again, many readers may miss it). Two very short pieces forthcoming in Realms of Fantasy, "Princess Fat Grits" and "Libby Thomas's Chemistry Set," are meant to be funny, at least in places, as is "A Troll Story," also from Realms of Fantasy. (This story, an expansion of the troll story from The Blue Place, may be on the stands by the time you read this.)

So. The meaning of life. I don't know what the meaning of your life might be, but what gives my life meaning is the attempt to enjoy as much of it as possible. I grew up in a very traditional English middle class family: five children, father working at a traditional office job--he left the house around 8:45 am and got back about 5:45--and my mother staying at home, doing her best to make us all happy and to make ends meet. When I was about eight, she started a business. At first it was mornings only, but as it became more successful and time consuming she would leave the house at 7:00 a.m. and not return until 7:00 p.m. When she got home, she would cook a hot dinner for us all, as well as deal with family disputes, the bills, the shopping and ironing and laundry, and so on and so forth. That's what good Catholic mothers of the time did, and my mother was more traditional than most. She was worked half to death. She could not have managed if she hadn't turned herself into a multi-tasking demon of efficiency. Without realising it, I absorbed her attitude without understanding, or only partially understanding because I was so young, the necessities behind it. To me, efficiency wasn't just the means, it was also the end in itself. Unfortunately, this ethos was at complete odds with my basic personality, which is rather, ah, hedonistic. However, it took me a while to work this out. Even now, efficiency is so instinctive that unless I pay particular attention my goal in life is to get things done, get the details out of the way so I can enjoy my life. I have a tendency to forget that life is the details, that there's pleasure to be gained from pausing in the middle of washing the dishes to look at the sunlight glistening on a wet crystal wine glass, or from just sitting and thinking nothing in particular. It's very clear to me now--partly as a result of living with Kelley (who had never even heard of lists until I explained the concept <g>), and partly because of having MS--that it is impossible to achieve every single thing, that I will never get it all done. Now I simply pick the three most important things, do those, and spend the rest of the time enjoying myself. Life is precious; I owe it to myself, and to my friends and my family, to be as present, as large and brilliant within it, as I possibly can. Forget later. Enjoy now.

April 10, 2000
From Minn Jo, jominn@yahoo.com

My name is Minn, and I'm Korean. I just finished Slow River, and it was the first time to read your works. I'm not a big SF fan, but I totally loved it and ordered 3 more books of yours. I'm still waiting and waiting for the books to arrive. I don't think your books have been translated in Korean and I think that's a shame.

Most fascinating, or disturbing, character for me in Slow River was Spanner. I felt soooo bad when Lore moved out--even though I knew why Lore had to. Spanner was so real to me that I wondered whether her character was from your real life or not.

I had a hard time reading the book because of all those scientific terms in Slow River, but it was very pleasant moments while I was reading it. So I want to say "thank you" for writing such a great piece and reminding me of pleasure of reading. It had been quite a while to feel this way since I read "Written on the Body" by Winterson 2 years ago. Can't wait to try your other works!

Spanner is pretty close to my heart, too. I really ached for her the whole time I was writing Slow River. Given her upbringing and situation, she didn't have many choices, and the majority of the chances she had for a better life would have taken almost superhuman character and resolve to exploit, and she was only human.

In a sense, I wrote Slow River for all the people I've known who, in different circumstances, could have made the world a better place for themselves and others. In another sense, aspects of Spanner are based on me. It's my belief that to some extent all book characters, like the characters in dreams, are reflections of facets--the What Ifs and the Might Have Beens and the There But for the Grace of Gods--of writer or dreamer. Do I know someone exactly like Spanner? No. Am I like Spanner in some essential way? No. There again, in order to understand a character (which I have to do otherwise a reader wouldn't believe a word of what I write) I have to spend time inside that character; I have to become her or him. When the book is finished, I find that I have changed a little. I can look at a child on the street, an old man at the table next to mine in the restaurant, the teenaged girl in the line next to mine in the bank, and see them from my own perspective and that of one of my characters. It's a peculiar, multi-phasic sort of perception but it stops me from getting too set in my ways; it helps me dodge my tendency towards narrow-mindedness.

Spanner probably represents an over-simplification and amplification of the extremes I will probably never play out in real life. Spanner crosses lines I won't cross because to her there's nothing wrong in abusing the body; it is only meat. I can't see that division between self and body; I don't want to.

April 10, 2000

Just read The Blue Place. Modesty Blaise is back!

I'm embarrassed to admit that I've never read any Modesty Blaise so I can't tell you whether or not I agree. Having said that, I've always had the impression from talking to those who have read the books that MB as a character was a somewhat superficial creation. Please correct me if I'm wrong.

April 10, 2000

My god, McIntyre, Griffeth, and now Cherryh in Seattle and LeGuin in Oregon. What a wonderful confluence of different voices!

Yep, it's fun living here--but don't forget to add Octavia Butler, who moved to the area last autumn. Imagine the possibilities: four or five of us out for brunch one morning, sitting in the spring sunshine while birds sing and pear and cherry trees blossom; sipping latte, eating breakfast pastries, talking about art and awards, publishing and politics, beer and beauty....

April 10, 2000
From Chris Davies, cricharddavies@hotmail.com

I beg your pardon if I somehow missed an explanation of this in the text of "The Blue Place", or elsewhere ... but the question is driving me insane.

How does one *pronounce* Aud? "Odd"? "OW-d"? "OH-d"? Some other way?

It just so happens that I address this question quite thoroughly in Red Raw. Aud rhymes with shroud, Aud rhymes with proud, Aud rhymes with bloody-but-unbowed.

April 10, 2000

I have yet to read some of your books and am planning to buy Slow River. So enlightened me, this might sound like a silly question, but I REALLY need to know:

Is Spanner a woman? I've read summaries that doesn't describe Spanner's sexuality. I know I have to read the book to know this, I just want to spoil myself a little 'cos I can't wait to get to know about Lore & Spanner's relationship.

Also, I think Slow River has a potential to become an animated movie, considering the imagery & the premise in the book; and the fact there is a future for animations for mature and adult audiences, what with all the anime and manga stuff coming out of Japan. What do you think?

Spanner is a woman. It's interesting that it matters--because it does matter, at least to most of us, although I like to think it might not matter at some point in the future. By this I don't mean the sex of the person we want to have sex with won't matter--although for some this is true--I mean that the sex of two characters in a book won't matter a fig to us as readers. But right now, it does matter.

Most of us are trained from birth to believe, for example, that woman are totally different from men, that white people have nothing in common with people of colour, and that straight girls and dykes may as well come from different planets. Then those of us who are black or gay or female go out into the world and come to understand the ways in which things are different (usually better) for those of us who are not. A dyke, for example, is pushed towards the assumption that Dyke=Us and Straight=Them (just as, say, white folks see White=Us and Black=Them, etc), and that there is no commonality between Us and Them. Us and Them are different species. Instead of seeking similarities between Us and Them in fiction (and film sports and politics...) we seek only representations of Us, and when we find them, we believe--for reasons ranging from the reasonable to the ridiculous--that maybe, just maybe, this is an indicator that world is getting better, that things are improving for people like Us, that, gosh, discrimination is slowly disappearing, barriers are being broken and so on and so forth, ad nauseam.

In a world without discrimination, sex and sexuality and skin colour and religion would make about as much difference as hair or eye colour. I don't imagine there are too many of us out there who would refuse to read a book because, eeuuewww, the blue-eyed hero has fallen in love with a redhead and we just can't, like, relate to that. What makes the whole thing doubly absurd is that classifications of sex, and sexuality, and even race are based on the ridiculous notion that the universe divides neatly and naturally and cleanly into two mutually exclusive states: on or off, yes or no, good or bad, here or there. The more we study the world, though, we see that, for example, being a "man" or a "woman" is a lot more complicated that it seems. Do we assign such status based on chromosomes? In that case, where do we put those who don't slot neatly into either the XY or XX categories? How about appearance? But that questions the identity of those who take hormones or have surgery. How about genitalia? Then what about those who were exposed in the womb to a variety of hormones: the women with three inch clitorises and men with one inch penises? And on, and on. The concepts of "lesbian" and "Black" can be equally fluid and artificial.

So, yes, Spanner is a girl. While to many readers that matters, the sooner it doesn't, the happier I'll be. After all, there are a lot more straight readers in the world than gay ones, and I want my work to resonate with as many people as possible. Of course, by the time that happens, that there's no more prejudice, I'll be writing as much about boys and straight girls as about dykes <g>.

As for Slow River being an animated feature--of course it could be. Anything could be: the Book of Job, King Lear, Hagar the Horrible, War and Peace. Perhaps a more useful question would be what might an animated feature achieve that a live action couldn't? On a small budget, quite a lot. On a huge budget, probably not much. Before the arrival of Princess Mononoke on our screens not too long ago, I would probably have answered the question in the negative. Now I'm not so sure. It would depend on the skill of the artists, the vision of the director, the talent of the screenwriter. It's not an area in which I have any expertise.

November 24, 1999

I love the way your books simply assume that the world has excepted the choice of sexuality. Please let me know when your next book will be available. Also, has your partner Kelley written any books? Please send me a list of both of your work.

Kelley is more than halfway through her first novel, Solitaire. It's likely that it will be published some time in 2001 by Avon Eos. I know I'm biased, but it's a wonderful book.

My latest novel, Red Raw, is not yet finished, at least not to my satisfaction. I have still to find a publisher for it--and won't even try until it's in a form I'm happy with. So I doubt it will see print until 2001, either. Meanwhile, the third volume of Bending the Landscape, the Horror volume, will be published by Overlook in the autumn of 2000.

Kelley and I both have work (fiction and non-fiction respectively) in a new collection of feminist writing, Women of Other Worlds, published by the University of Western Australia this August. I'm not sure if it's available generally in this country, but you could probably order it via the Tiptree Award homepage.

I've just sold three stories to Realms of Fantasy magazine (one is an expansion of the troll story from The Blue Place, two are short pieces being seen for the first time) which will probably see print later next year. One of the stories will also be appearing in an anthology of ghost stories from Invisible Cities Press in October next year. Other authors in that collection include John Updike and Brent Lott.

One of my essays will be appearing in the premiere issue of Harrington Lesbian Fiction Quarterly, but I've no idea when that might be available. Another, quasi-fictional piece will appear in the December 9 issue of Nature. As soon as I get definite news about Red Raw, I'll post it to this page.

November 24, 1999

Okay, I've had this pretty bad crush on this guy, Jesse since 5th grade and now I'm in 8th and I still like him. I even liked him when I was in a pretty serious relationship for a year with my x. The problem is that i don't even think that he likes me a bit, maybe just a friend. I know that he likes this other girl a lot but she's one of my closest friends and she doesn't like him for any more than a friend. Should I tell him that I like him or just shut my mouth for another three and one quarter years?

and

Hey Nicola! I've got abit of a problem, I'm 12 years old but my life is turning into that of a 15 year olds, i do pretty well in school and I'm popular (well basically, I get by) Anyway, here's my problem... I'm in 7th grade and so is my friend Kate (fake name) well, she was dating this boy, Rafael (real name), he's an 8th grader, but she broke up w/ him because he was getting too possesive and I can say for SURE that she TOTALLY doesn't like him anymore... of course that's not the case w/ me I've found that I've been "fancying" him for quite a time now... we're REALLY good friends and he knows I like him, but he doesn't like me, at least I don't think he does, well, my friend Carmela and I BOTH like him (that's not my prob.) and we've both been talking to eachother and we've decided that this "crush" is totally getting out of hand, we're CONSTANTLY sad or depressed when he is and that's all we ever talk about most of the time. How can i stop these DEEP EMOTIONS?

Money, affairs of the heart, and legal problems are three subjects no wise person should ever advise on. Only you know what the real situation is. The choice is yours.

November 24, 1999

"Bad Stuff out of Berkeley" is probably www.badsubjects.org, which I believe was a mailing list in the mid 90s.

Okay, thanks. I'll go check it out.

November 24, 1999

Hey Nicola,

I don't have a question. I just wanted to tell you that ever since I read Slow River, your writing has really touched me more than any other author's, and I thank you for your wonderful contributions to the literary world. You are a wonderful reminder of why I will continue to write until my own voice is heard.

Thank you. That's what writing is all about for me: being heard, touching people, giving the reader pause for thought. It is the most amazing thing in the world to hear from people that something I've written--that I slaved over, agonised over whether anyone would want to bother reading it or not--helped them in some way, led them to some insight or other about their own or others' lives. It's what makes it all worthwhile.

November 24, 1999

Not a question, just a comment.

I was lead to your website from rec.arts.sf.written and although I am a fat, straight, male of an age at which "middle aged" means two years older than myself (and has for quite some time), I was planning to order Ammonite even though I suspect I'll have character identification problems. I read your "questions" page, and after reading that you have read the Aubrey/Maturin series 4 (going on 5) times, I ordered A, SR and TBP from amazon.

(I suffer from a minor physical problem - tinnitus - and can't get to sleep unless there is some noise louder than the ringing in my ears. So in addition to reading them 4 or 5 times, I've also listened to them a dozen times or so.)

SPOILER

If you haven't read The Hundred Days yet, don't read the following paragraph.

I guess I do have a question after all. Did you feel horribly betrayed when O'Brian killed both Diana and Bondon offstage?

END SPOILER
p.s. Did you ever try to figure out how tall Sophie is?

I hope you haven't been disappointed by my work--Patrick O'Brian is a tough act to follow. I was initially stunned by O'Brian's decision to kill two important characters offstage, but once I thought about it I realized it fits with the writing style of his last four books. The first fifteen novels were distinguished by the brilliance and clarity of characterisation: we felt what Jack and Stephen felt: the huge joy of promotion and victory, the bleakness of losing one's love, the insidiousness of addiction, the thrill of cutting through the water at thirteen knots tasting the spray on your lips. Suddenly, in book sixteen (or perhaps it was seventeen, I forget), O'Brian stops taking us inside his people. My first thought was that he was being pushed to write too fast; then I wondered if he was too tired to give his all; then I worried that he had lost interest in the series. Now I suspect he's going through some kind of metamorphosis as a writer. This is good news and bad news.

In my opinion, it's not always wise to actually keep writing in the midst of a change. Sometimes it's better to stop, then change, then write. The good news is, I think book 20 was far better than book 19, the bad news is that it's not a patch on the first fifteen. But he does seem to be heading in a new direction: his work feels different, as though his concerns as a writer have changed. When he gets to his new place, perhaps I'll enjoy it. Meanwhile, each novel is a disappointment. I turn the pages thinking: When will we really get inside Jack Aubrey again? The deaths of Diana and Bonden pissed me off, but what annoyed me the most was that the Big Moment, the Final Payout, the Great Reward to which we've been looking forward for twenty books--that is, Jack's elevation to Rear Admiral--is hardly given any fanfare at all. That made me quite grumpy. But I'll buy the next one, and I'll still recommend his books (at least the first fifteen or sixteen) to all and sundry.

November 24, 1999

I was enjoying The Blue Place until I read the comment on page 73 about "the wasteful American pasttime of running. Why not direct your muscles to something useful?" When you think about it, Nicola, just about every form of cardio or weightlifting is not "useful" at the time. It is what it is. Later, however, is when it becomes useful, like when you are looking for muscles to do house projects. As for running, you can insult it all you want, but if it moves people into a Zen-like state and frees and clears their minds - as it does me - I don't consider it wasteful in the least. You might think about broadening your definitions

I was feeling rather irritable today--until I read this, and burst out laughing. Let me ask you a couple of questions: Do you believe I am the six foot tall daughter of a diplomat? Do you think I have killed more than half a dozen people? I sincerely hope the answer is: No. Assuming you did answer in the negative, let me ask you another question: If you don't believe I'm really Aud, why do you think her pronouncements on running have anything to do with my own attitudes? Aud is a character. She doesn't exist. You're getting yourself all het up and cross about a figment of my imagination. As a matter of fact, I used to run; sometimes I enjoyed it, sometimes I didn't. I don't have much of an opinion about its usefulness one way or the other.

November 24, 1999

From Linda Stiles, kokopeli@intergate.bc.ca

I have watched your development as a writer through all three of your novels to date, and strongly urge you NOT to stick to a genre, but to write where ever and when ever and whatever your story, voice, and characters take you. You're writing and the stories have improved (rather exponentially!) in each book, from Ammonite, to Slow River, to The Blue Place. Although a confirmed science fiction addict, I read The Blue Place (and will most definitely read Red Raw, "lack" of any genre notwithstanding) because YOU wrote it. And because YOU wrote it, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Like you, I read greedily, diversely, and with little thought to genre--I am instead looking for, I don't know, a certain voice, a certain way of telling a story, something that grabs me when I flip open the book at random and read a paragraph. Not scientific, I suppose, but accurate.

Enough. Please stay well, be kind to yourself, and thank you--very much--for your stories, your writing, yourself!

I'm currently rewriting Red Raw and am having a hard time of it--mainly due to the mixed genre aspects of the novel. Is it a novel of character? Is it mystery or suspense fiction? If it one of those (to borrow a phrase) "rescue of the female child" narratives? The answer of course is: Yes. But does it work? Ah, I'm less certain of that. I won't be sending it anywhere until I know the answer. Meanwhile, many thanks for the vote of confidence.

November 4, 1999
Hello from Princeton! We have a radio station that we recieve here from NYC known as WBAI, a Pacifica station. They broadcast a show titled Natural Living hosted by Gary Null, a radical proponent of alternative medicine. He interviews thousands of doctors and patients who have utilized alternative protocals for the treatment of many difficult health problems, including MS. If you are interested, he also has a library of tapes of these interviews and lectures that he sells for about $5 each. He has a website, and he appears to me to know what he's talking about. I've been listening to his show for about 7 years and have been impressed especially with the interviews of people who have utilised alternative methods to beat so-called incureable diseases.

You seem like an information junkie, (like me)so I thought I'd turn you on to some good stuff. I consider your work to be the best, and hope that you can find time to investigate some of the systems Null has researched. Please don't feel that it's necessary to respond.

I found Gary Null's website. It made me quite cross. Under "multiple sclerosis," for example, there is a piece about how stimulation of the pineal gland with electromagnetic radiation would stimulate production of melatonin which--he seems to think--would make up to seventy percent of people with MS feel much better. Then another article says that people with MS would feel much better if they just slept more, but that they don't sleep much because EMF messes with the pineal gland, preventing it from producing the melatonin that would do the job.

So then I took a look at some of his other pronouncements and found very, very little, in terms of reference to facts and figures, to back up his assertions. So then I did a web search for his name, and the first URL that popped up was for something called Quackery, which is a watchdog website that ferrets out those who spout nonsense about health issues. And there was Gary Null, front and centre. It turns out his qualifications are, to put it politely, less than optimal. His PhD, for example, was awarded by a committee whose only faculty member (if I'm remembering correctly) was a geologist. Null's thesis was even more bizarre: a study (and I use the word loosely) on the effects of caffeine on the adrenal gland, using a urine test that has absolutely no medical validity.

Please don't get me wrong: I am not cross with you. I am touched by your urge to help. I'm not even that cross with Null--most of the time he strikes me as an idiot rather than a charlatan. Most of the time. But then I look at his website and all the products for sale, most of which seem to be useless in terms of their stated purpose, and think that perhaps anyone who makes so much money can't be that stupid after all.

What makes me really, really angry is the disease itself--the fact that it drives people to such despair that we are willing to suspend all rational thought and throw ourselves on the most unlikely therapies hoping for a cure. Bee sting therapy was big for a while; the only problem was, people kept dying from anaphylactic shock. Oh, well. Then there's the Swank diet, where you cut out all saturated fat and most monounsaturated fat, too. The only problem is, the body needs that stuff. Ooops. Then there are the natural healers who prescribe all those lovely herbs like echinacea and golden seal etc. etc. The only problem is, echinacea is an immune system stimulant--not exactly what you need when you have an autoimmune illness. Never mind. The fact is, desperate people will try desperate remedies. It's my belief that many of these so-called therapists are not frauds in the sense that they deliberately mislead people for financial gain. Many of them genuinely believe that what they are doing is helpful. It's just that they're wrong most of the time.

Here's what I do to help my MS: I read all the available scientific literature then, when it seems to clear to me that a particular therapy has real, proven advantages, I talk to my neurologist. Between us we decide what to do. Sometimes the therapy helps, or appears to, sometimes it doesn't, or doesn't appear to. And that's the problem: MS is a notoriously unpredictable disease. We get get better or worse for no apparent reason. There has to be a reason, of course, it's just that right now no one really knows what. Being sensible seems to be the best course. Do the kind of things that are accepted as generally good for the human body: don't stress too much, don't work too hard, don't drink too much, eat a healthy balanced diet without too much of one thing (not too much sugar, not too much meat, not too much fat etc. etc.), get all the sleep you need, get a reasonable amount of exercise, and so on.

There are some who believe that the pharmaceutical industry knows of cures for various deadly and/or chronic diseases, but that they don't tell ill people about them for a variety of reasons: the company does not have a patent on the treatment; if the patients are cured, the company will no longer be able to sell them ineffective remedies; they have a patent on the drug or therapy but it's about to run out so they're going to develop something similar and patent that. And so on. Arrant nonsense. There are no miracle cures. The day a real magic bullet appears, everyone will know about it; it will be big news, whether or not any pharmaceutical company stands to make money. Think about it. When the medical profession discovered that humble, generic aspirin reduces by some percentage mortality rates after heart attacks, we heard about it very quickly. Who stood to make money? No one. And aspirin isn't even a cure. It just helps a bit. Believe me, if there ever is a cure for cancer or arthritis or MS or high blood pressure or AIDS, we'll know about it immediately. You won't have to go to hole-in-the-wall websites and fork out hard-earned cash for a bottle of useless (and occasionally even harmful) vitamins.

October 20, 1999

From Rob Osborne, nostromo3@earthlink.net

I have just been turned on to your books (Slow River and the Blue Place ). I live in the Los Angeles area (orange county) and am wondering if you have any signings planned for my area? If not do you have any ideas about how I could your books signed?

Unfortunately, I don't have plans to do any signings anywhere in the near future. I've just finished my latest novel, Red Raw, and want to take a rest for a few weeks, and think about what to write next.

You're not the only one to ask recently. One of my essays, "Writing from the Body," has just been reprinted in two non-fiction anthologies. The first, Women of Other Worlds, is from the University of Western Australia, published in August. The second, Restricted Access, published this month by Seal Press here in Seattle, is a wrenching collection essays from dykes with disabilities, physical and mental. I should probably be out on the road, drumming up custom for the book, but I'm simply too tired. Bending the Landscape: Science Fiction is also about to appear in trade paperback.

If you want a book (or several books) signing, send an email to Dave Slusher, along with your street address and phone number, and he will pass it along to me. Then I'll email you privately and we'll work something out.

For those in or near Oregon, I'll be in Portland for three days next month (12-14 November) as the Guest of Honour at Orycon. It might be my last public gig for a while.

October 20, 1999

Hi, Nicola--

This is gonna be a little weird, but a while back, say 4 or 5 years ago, you (I'm pretty sure it was you) and Shawn Levy were both on a mailing list, I think, called Bad Stuff out of Berkeley. I can't seem to find it anywhere and wonder if it was still up. If so, could you possible mail me the address to look for it?

Thank you for your time, sorry for the strange question.

Well, "Bad Stuff out of Berkeley" sounds interesting. Too bad I don't know anything about it. Having said that, the name sounds familiar. I wonder if I was on such a mailing list a long time ago.... Hmmmn. Anyone out there got any information to share?

October 20, 1999
From Susan Podd, xero@twcny.rr.com

Hello Nicola!

I just finished Ammonite and have to ask if you ever plan to do a sequel. Company has to come back sometime, right? I would love to see these characters again!

And do you ever do book signings? Are you planning a tour when the next Aud book comes out?

Thanks,
Xero

I've lost count of the number of times I've been asked about a sequel to Ammonite. The answer is: At this time, no, I don't plan a sequel. But that answer carries a proviso: If I ever find myself thinking a lot about what happens next on Jeep, and the idle thoughts becomes a story that I can't walk away from, then, yes, I'll sit and write it down. And you're right, Company will of course return. I just have no idea what happens when they do....

With regards to a tour for the new Aud book, it depends on two things: the publisher, and my health. The publisher would have to want to spend some serious money sending me on tour, and my health would have to be a lot better than it is right now. I am very, very tired at the moment.

October 20, 1999
From Taro, tohkawa@nature.berkeley.edu

Hi,
I just finished the Blue Place. Although I initially wasn't into the early developments of Aud's case, I loved the characters and stuck with it. Aud and Julia's relationship brought out a strong reaction in me, and the descriptions of their time in Norway were just the sort of thing I was looking to read (vivid/sharp descriptions to take you into this other place, sights, sounds, smells, food). The ending was so horribly tragic, yet it seemed that under the circumstances (once Aud was attacked on the glacier, I thought that julia must already be dead), was a much more realistic ending than if they had ridden off into the sunset together. Have you spent a lot of time in Norway? Iain Banks if my favorite author; I was curious as to which book of his it was that Aud was reading.

Thanks for writing the Blue Place! (I had purchased Ammonite a couple years ago, but hadn't gotten around to reading it yet).

I've never spent any time in Norway (or Sweden, or Finland, or Denmark) except in my imagination. I would love the opportunity to go: to see the glaciers, to take a boat trip to the Lofoten Islands, to sit and listen to the wind and the birds on Lustrafjord. Maybe one of these days.

Knowing Aud, she was probably reading one of Banks's big concept books: maybe The Bridge. My personal favourite is The Wasp Factory, but I imagine she's read that at least twice.

Let me know what you think of Ammonite when you get around to it.

October 20, 1999
From Julie, ardenk42@aol.com

Several weeks ago, in the library, the computer catalog listed under your name a book called Women and Other Aliens, and then when I looked again more recently, it wasn't listed. Is this book still going to exist? It was the one with short stories and essays by you, Kelley, and one other writer, right? I hope it exists, as it sounded interesting.

Women and Other Aliens is still alive, though not currently as vibrant as I would like. The contributors--me and Kelley and L. Timmel Duchamp--have all been really busy with our own projects the last eighteen months and haven't had the time or energy to devote to the book. However, I spoke to a publisher a couple of months ago who seemed interested, so if we can just find the time to finish it, it will get to the shelves eventually.

I'll post info to the News section as and when I get it.

September 6, 1999
From: Mark Mellon, mmellon@fdic.gov

Dear Ms. Griffith:

I would appreciate it very much if you could provide me with any information as to whether the Calvino Prize was ever awarded? I contacted Invisible Cities Press, the organization which I understand provided funding for the prize, and asked whether the prizes have been awarded, but they haven't seen fit to answer my e-mail. Personally, I think it's rather unfair not to inform contestants of the results since there was a registration fee of $10. Then again, this may be what you're planning to do all along and I'm being rash and overanxious. If this is the case, I sincerly apologize.

Any information which you could provide to me would be greatly appreciated. Thanks very much in advance.

The people at Invisible Cities assure me that they have now informed every single entrant of the results of the competition (see the News section for information on the winner). Let me apologise on their behalf for any delay; even a few days can feel like a long time when one has a lot riding on the outcome, I know; I've sweated over fiction submissions many times

The $10 fee was a reading fee--which is usually used to pay the first readers, those people who winnow the huge number of entries down to a short list. I only read the finalists in each category. If you need any more information, please contact Roger Weingarten or Invisible Cities.

September 6, 1999

Dear Nicola,

Less than a month ago I first saw your books on a list of Alternate Sexualities in Fantasy and Science Fiction. Now that I've read Slow River, Ammonite, and the Science Fiction volume, and am in the middle of The Blue Place and the Fantasy volume, I know I've found only the second author (the first was Orson Scott Card) whose work really affects me on a more personal level than most books.

I love your novels because they show the world as I'd like to see it--total absence of homophobia and encounters with it. The first science fiction I read that had gay characters was Mercedes Lackey's The Last Herald-Mage series, which I loved, but looking back, I wish I could have had those books without Vanyel's problems being gay--just himself. It's so refreshing, for a change, to read a book where the character's being lesbian is just a part of her that needs no more special mention than that she's a woman. It makes the character seem so natural, and creates a world I'd love to fall into.

When I finally found your webpage (since it is listed wrong in your books, and the old site doesn't say you've moved or link here--I'm sure you know that), I found even more respect for you in your other writings, especially "Writing from the Body" and "Alien in our own Tongue". "Writing from the Body" gave me a glimpse into your life and the way you think, and I realized that, for at least a time, you had the life I've always dreamed of--you write, which I've known I wanted to do since I was in first grade, and you taught self-defense, which I also plan to teach (or martial arts) ever since getting my black belt in Taekwon-Do. You are so strong to continue on even after your illness has cut you off from martial arts--I don't know if I could keep going if something like that happened to me.

I also have a comment on something you wrote, I think in one of your other answers to letters from fans. You wrote about the differences between a martial art and self-defense. The two are not as far apart as you said. I study a version of Taekwon-Do (the Universal Taekwon-Do Federation, which is small and much less well known than the International and World federations we were trying to create a combination of and a bridge between) that tries to combine the traditional aspects of the Art with self-defense. When sparring among each other, we play by rules--no kicking below the belt, no using elbow or knee techniques that could really hurt our partner if we mess up--but when we practice hoshin-sol, self-defense, we learn plenty of "dirty fighting" strategies. So it is possible to study a martial art that teaches things of practical value in today's society--it's just a question of finding the right school.

I eagerly anticipage the sequel to The Blue Place, and is there going to be a third Bending the Landscape anthology? It was mentioned in some of your other answers...

If self defence were only a matter of punching and kicking, I might agree (though of course some martial arts are much more practical than others). But self defence is much, much more than strikes and blocks and joint locks and falls. It's about understanding body language, it's about self-assertiveness, it's about seeing the world in terms of making and keeping oneself safe. It's as much about prevention as cure. It's learning what the real dangers are, as opposed to the fake ones. The self defence I taught was probably less than fifty percent hurting people; the rest was all about exploding myth (did you know that about three-quarters of all attempted rapes actually fail because the woman resists? Fighting back pays--but you have to use your judgement), teaching students how to read body language and how to project certain messages in stance and movement, and so on. Some of this stuff is really simple, once someone's pointed it out (for example, never shout "Help!" or "rape!" if you're attacked in a residential area at night. Shout "Fire!" a dozen people will call 911) but some of it needs constant reinforcement and practice (if you're trapped in a room with no gun or knife or whatever, you are not weaponless and you are not helpless). I would recommend a good self-defence course (good, of course, being the operative word here) followed by martial arts training. I believe you need both.

There will be a third Bending the Landscape volume, this time of horror fiction. We've got some great stories, from writers like Carrie Richerson and Mark Tiedemann and Holly Wade Matter and Mark McLaughlin and L. Timmel Duchamp and Barbara Hambly and Cynthia Ward. Once I get the cover proofs, I'll put it up, along with a contents list. Last time I heard from the publisher, Overlook, it was scheduled for Spring 2000. But I'll post the news here as and when I get it.

September 6, 1999
From: Sanday, ejordan2kl@aol.com

Nicola,
On page 36 of The Blue Place you wrote "An innocent who believed herself a cynic, one too innocent even to understand ...". It struck me this might have application to authors whose characters appear cynical on the surface. That is, the cynicism covers an "innocence" the author/character for some reason wants disguised. Maugham said all cynicism marks an inability to cope. Your sentence made me wonder if the inability to cope refers more to the relationship of the innocence in the self that has come into contact with a world it wishes were other than it is?

It all depends on your definition of "innocent." I use the world in three different ways. The first and most usual definition is not guilty, free of some specific wrong or accusation. Here a lot depends on what we mean by "wrong." Some people might call Aud innocent, because she only hurts people when they deserve it; some might not. The second definition is where things get interesting. If you take innocent to mean doing no evil, that is, free from moral wrong, sin, or guilt, then the term could apply to Aud: she is so morally certain in her actions that even when she is killing someone she has no guilt, at least at the start of The Blue Place. (Things change in Red Raw.) The third definition--freedom from cunning or artifice, or guilelessness, or naive--is one that the reader is initially certain does not apply to Aud.

We all begin life as innocents, whichever definition you choose. We believe what we see to be true. We form opinions about the world. The we get more experience and have to change those opinions. Sometimes we really don't want to: we prefer the initial vision and don't want to have to accept second-best. This is what radicals and martyrs and the best artists have in common: they have a vision of the world that they will strive to implement; they won't settle for anything less, whether that's a world where woman can't vote, or one in which it's illegal to worship a christian god, or no one believes in the magic of humanity. Cynics are those who see the world for "how it really is" and feel bitter because they don't believe they can do anything to change it. So is Aud an innocent, using the third definition? In The Blue Place I'm not always sure. In Red Raw she finds herself facing a real loss of innocence in one of the hardest scenes I've ever written. Towards the end of the novel, she begins to recover innocence or at least the belief in herself from which such innocence stems. Am I, the author, an innocent? Sometimes. I try, at least in some senses of the word.

September 6, 1999
From: wain, kidder909@hotmail.com

hey nicola, i was just wondering what are your literary influences, and what authors do ye enjoy reading? i'm from good old blighty too(liverpool), and presently living in san francisco working on a novel and a travel book. i enjoy all of your work, slow river blew me away, and also congrats on the bending the landscape series. thanx.

Although I'm assuming you haven't actually read The Blue Place (TBP), your mention of Slow River (SR) and the Bending the Landscape (BtL) anthologies reminded me of something I've been mulling over for a week or two. Amongst my readers, two separate camps are emerging: those who think SR is head and and shoulders above all my other work, and those who think TBP is the best thing I've ever done. I suspect that a lot of this has to do with genre: the readers' attitudes towards it, and my own attitude.

My first novel, Ammonite (A), was science fiction. In the process of writing it, I was learning both how to write a novel, and how the SF genre works. Very few people have told me it's their favourite of my novels. When I worked on SR I knew about both. Just about everyone agreed that SR is superior to A. I tend to agree. With TBP, my third novel, I feel as though I had an even greater range of novelistic tools at my disposal--but it was my first attempt at a non-SF novel. My latest novel, Red Raw (RR), is not only my fourth but my second in this mode. I'm dying to know if readers in the SR camp will think it equal to or perhaps even superior that novel, or whether it's the genre that matters, i.e. it's not SF so it couldn't possibly be as good. There again, I suspect fans of the mystery novel will be flummoxed by RR; there's no murder to solve, for example.

I have lost count of the number of readers and editors and helpful colleagues who have tried to persuade me of the necessity of picking a genre and sticking to it. Some of them mean that I should only write SF from now on, or lesbian novels, or mystery/thrillers. Some, on the other hand, would be happy if I would only decide what genre a novel was, and then follow the forms faithfully. My problem is, I can't. Or maybe I should say I won't. Frankly, I don't much care for genre. I believe in story. I'm not talking about plot but story. A story is the account of an emotional journey, an internal change: the main character of the beginning of the novel is not the same inside at the end; she or he sees the world differently (and, with luck, the world sees her or him differently, too). Plot is a series of outside events. (I think genre classification often stems from what kind of plot the writer uses: someone is murdered and someone else sets out to find out who did it; things go bump in the night and people get scared and sometimes die; someone discovers time travel and decides to experiment with it, etc.) I like both, preferably hooked together in one exciting package, where important personal change is reflected (or caused by, or the cause of) external societal change.

My reading tastes were probably formed when I was very young. I read greedily, with no regard for "reading age" or "genre" or anything else. I would read Red Queen, White Queen in the same week as the last volume of Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. (Even fiction and non-fiction didn't seem that different to me; as long as both were interesting who cared?) I got used to changing gears and not forming expectations; on some level I expect my readers to be able to do that, too. Unfortunately, many readers are so set in their ways that they won't even consider reading outside their familiar genres. It's a pity. There's a lot of good stuff out there.

The books that have influenced me most as a reader and as writer, then, are those novels that have great story, great plot, good prose style--and a visceral sense of detail. Growing up, my favourites were the novels of Henry Treece and Rosemary Sutcliffe, Mary Renault and T.H. White, the Arthurian books of Mary Stewart (her others didn't appeal to me), and Alan Garner's strange celtic YA fantasies like The Weirdstone of Brisingamen. Apart from the Garner, I don't remember any children's or YA novels from that time. I discovered YA around the same time I first came across science fiction; I read My Friend Flicka about the same time as Asimov's Foundation and E.E. "Doc" Smith's Lensmen series, that is, when I was about thirteen. They have influence me less than the novels I read when I was younger. It's only recently that I've read things like Burnett's Little Princess (which I enjoyed thoroughly). Recently, my more conscious influences include William Boyd, Joanna Russ, and Patrick O'Brian. I think of them when I get stuck trying to write something. I think, "How might they do it?" I rarely come up with a direct parallel, but the process kickstarts that strange part of my brain that is the overlap between left and right hemispheres, the part where most real writing is done. I suppose you could say that the later writers have given me structural models, and techniques, while the earlier ones gave me my basic tastes: story, visceral description, big events and a sense of history. One of these fine days I want to write a big old historical (perhaps partly fantastical) novel set in the England I learnt from Sutcliffe and Treece and Stewart: the moors, the mist, the monasteries and menhirs....

September 6, 1999
From: Mary, Mroad@earthlink.net

Nicola,
I have to tell you how much I enjoyed The Blue Place. Your writing is superb. Your give your readers a tour of how one woman thinks and copes with violence - a very realistic tour! I know what an adjustment it was for me when I first became a police officer. I'd like to know if you interviewed many police officers for Aud's background or if you relied mostly on your experience with martial arts. I'll be waiting impatiently for the next book!

A long time before Aud was even a twinkle in my eye, I heard a story about an Atlanta police officer who had her gun taken away. The story was related to me by a friend of the officer's, who told me that this woman had been utterly shaken by the event. Although she was physically unhurt, the horror of having the man she was trying to apprehend turn on her, wrestle her to the ground, then hold her own gun to her head was traumatic. She had had to go on leave for a while. It wasn't long after hearing that story that I had the dream that kicked off the whole process that ended up being The Blue Place: a woman killing an armed intruder with nothing more than a flashlight. I suspect the story had a great deal to do with the birth of Aud, and her determination to never rely on traditional weapons--which was of the things that led to Julia's death.

I also met a former New York City police officer, at a Labour Day potluck (those dyke cliches have to come from somewhere <g>). We didn't really talk about her job, but it was clear to me that she was deeply troubled and my imagination happily went to work conjuring the whys and wherefores of her unhappiness which I (probably wrongly) I ascribed to her former profession.

Most of the descriptions of and attitude towards violence in the novel come from my imagination--although informed by my experience, including that of martial arts and self defence.

September 6, 1999
From Del Ponder, delwynp@yahoo.com

Hola nicola : Im a big fan of fiilm noir and roman noir. Your ney book The Blue Place is a great example of noir It would make a great film. My question is will you do anymore mystery novel or short stories in the noir style like this? After reading the blue place tou have gained a new fan in me. You're up there with my favorite authors Jim Thompson John Peyton Cook David Goodis Vin Packer David Hunt and Jason Starr. I would love to see more mysterys from you.

I'm not sure I would classify The Blue Place as noir--but it's very flattering to be compared to Jim Thompson. As I've said elsewhere, the novel I'm working on, Red Raw, (I'll be rewriting the first draft this month) is a continuation of the story of Aud, but whether or not it could be called a mystery is debatable. Could it be called roman noir? I'm not sure, though I suspect not. Although it is about Aud, and although it is again written in first person from her point of view, Aud herself has changed and so therefore has the style of the narrative. It will be interesting to see how you feel the two novels compare.

September 2, 1999
From CY <ChenYen@Rembrandt.gen.nz>

Hi, I read The Blue Place , and have a few questions/comments.

It was very interesting for me to read the section on Wing Chun; sticky hands. It has similarities with tai chi push hands, which you probably have heard about. One thing that bothered, was Aud's attitude towards martial arts - ie, doing katas even though she knew they were defunct for martial art purposes. It teaches a person bad habits, physically, that may become detrimental. Aud might like to know that. (On the other hand, she doesn't really fight 'martial arts' stlye - why not, when some martial arts can be so much more subtle and effective than punches, kicks etc.)

When you write about Aud's 'superhuman' qualities, do you draw upon memory of being very physical, or immagination? I notice in you last two books, you have tended to concentrate on characters that "have it all", and I have always smiled at that in novels- not only yours. Isn't it funny how we tend to adulate winners? But I think you made Aud a tad too strong - Aud's weakness seems almost token - I am not convinced it was her screwing up that got Julia killed. In a sense I still feel she is untested (you know, the Hero's Journey <lol>)- but I suppose you'll remedy that in future books.

OK, I know you felt the Norwegian section was perfect, so don't jump if I tell you what I think. (After all, it is just one reader's opinion, and after all, that reader still cares enough to complain, and besides which, it is honest.) I felt like I was reading Anthropology 101. I don't generally have a problem with that, but it was in tracts and chunks - Julia was in monologue about it - and Aud, the Norwegian doesn't say a word in response. Julia's speculation is good - I mean, that's the kind of thing someone thinks of when travelling and trying to make sense of another culture - but I would consider some comment from an insider/native far more interesting, if you wanted to concentrate so much on place. I know that is asking probably too much from you, since you are not Norwegian, but its a fair enough comment I think. Its just it contrasts very artificially and woodeny, side by side with most of your very there-and-then visceral writing (by the way, that bit about the copper penny in the mouth was great - I thought so while reading it, even before I found out you were considering the image for you title.)

OK, another not so nice thing (hope you don't hate me by now). There were too many elements in the book - Aud was doing too many things - in real life, fine, nice well-rounded person, but in the book it came across as a bit to much. Fairly or unfairly I thought, this writer is trying to write about all the things she loves and knows, whether or not it adds to the story.

My final comment is that there was no real suspense in the novel. We don't discover with Aud - we watch her discovering things, from somewhere up above. It funny, you are a far better "writer" than John Grisham (for example) but his novels have the elusive quality of suspense (that held me, eventhough I didn't like the book, isn't that strange?) I'm sorry I had to use JG, white mc male, but its the league you are playing in - the thriller - and he is after all, a bestseller <g>.

Now I'll excuse myself, before you bop me in the head - but remember, I have one redeeming quality - I bought your book. All your books actually: Ammonite in Singapore, Slow River in Auckland, and The Blue Place from Amazon.com.

All the best!

PS. I'm glad you have a sense of humour about the "crotch shot" of your book! It certainly ellicited some comments on my side of the book! I noticed you wanted some comments about the cover - I don't have a problem with the colour (as you did) mainly because of the title. Darkness can be as striking as light or colour. It somehow sets the mood and tne of the book too. Blatant "crotch shots" are a no-no, if your publisher wants you to be taken seriously. Another problem, the text on the cover was incoherent, hard to read and mildly chaotic. The girl was also wrong, although luckily her face was obscured by the blue colour.

It seems to me that many of problems you had with the novel stem from expectations fostered by the "novel of suspense" label the publishers stuck on the front. I've said repeatedly that as far as I'm concerned this is not a thriller or suspense novel, but a novel about Aud--actually, a series about Aud: her development from frozen-in-time emotional adolescent who is nevertheless extraordinarily competent, to mature, complex adult. The Blue Place is all about that very first stage: Aud, who has allowed herself to feel nothing for the last thirteen years and, as a consequence, sees the world through a rather distorting, icy lens, begins to thaw. Julia, and Aud's relationship with Julia, is the catalyst. It pleased me to set much of that relationship in Norway, and to remind the reader of Aud's icy beginnings, literally and figuratively.

I'd characterise Aud and her fighting style as inhuman rather than superhuman: she has no scruples. Her opponents are not real to her; she can't conceive of losing, therefore she doesn't. This of course changes as both series and character progress. As for the katas, well, she does them as a meditation, and a dance, in much the same way another martial artist might use basketball or fell running or modern dance to keep fit. Martial arts are just that: arts. They don't often have a great deal to do with fighting in the real world. (Have you ever seen karate competition? It almost always degenerates to the point of just scrapping; an observer wouldn't be able to tell if opponents were using karate or tai chi or kung fu, except, to some extent, from ready positions.) Aud uses whatever works, whether that's a palm strike, or wrist lock, or jumping kick (actually she'd never use a jumping kick; they're ridiculous in my opinion). It interests me that you're not convinced that Aud has any weakness. I wanted to create a two-layer novel: one where the reader knows that Aud is quite a damaged and to some extent deformed person, and one where one could believe, along with Aud herself, that Aud is perfect and invulnerable. It was tricky trying to create that effect; while it seems to have worked for many readers, for some people it obviously didn't. I look forward to the day when I have enough expertise to persuade all readers to be on the same page <g>.

Now we come to the part of your commentary that irritated me: "this writer is trying to write about all the things she loves and knows, whether or not it adds to the story." For the record, I know nothing about nor have any particular affinity for gardening, or woodworking, or Norway, or consulates, or body-modification, and so on down the list. I made it up. I did so for a reason: for the story; to show the essential dislocation, the fracture between Aud-as-she-believes-she-is and Aud-as-she-really-is. As I've said here before somewhere, to me, story is the account of an internal journey, an emotional change, not just the plot: this happens then this happens then this happens. I have written, most recently in "Living Fiction and Storybook Lives," of how foolish it is for a reader to assume s/he knows something of a writer simply from reading the writer's fiction. All a reader knows of me is what I have told you through interviews, and Q&A sessions such as these. Beyond that, you have no idea what I know and love. For example: I loathe the heat of Atlanta in which Aud luxuriates; it makes me sick as a dog. So if you believe something to be true simply because you inferred it from my fiction, think again.

I had an interesting conversation, just yesterday, with a friend, about what can and cannot be assumed about the writer from a novel. He mentioned several mass market paperback bestsellers--Grisham, Cornwell, King--and he tried to point out to me that we learn nothing of the particularity of the author from these novels, whereas with other writers--he talked about me, and O'Brian, and I forget who else--he believed the reader does come to see the shadowy author hovering behind his or her characters. We came to the conclusion that it's all to do with the least common denominator: the higher up the scale the writer goes, in terms of expecting intelligence from the reader, the more commonalities s/he will leave out, generally speaking. Being particular leaves readers by the wayside. Being particular leads the reader to assume a great deal about the writer because, for some reason, they can't believe that the particular can come wholly from the imagination. I believe it can, and often does. However, I think (and this will sound contradictory, but tough) it is also true that occasionally the author does seep through in some of the more tiny, insignificant details: Aud drinks Corona when it's hot, and good, bold red wines (Syrahs, Riojas) when it's not. So do I.

This conversation led me to think about how I would define the perfect novel, and I decided it would be one in which the author, somehow, managed to be particular and yet accessible to all. I've found something to aim for that will take me the rest of my life....

September 2, 1999

Hi!

You responded to requests for self-defense courses on your web page. May I also suggest Impact Model Mugging as well? http://www.bamm.org/chapters.html I am a graduate of the 20 hour course. I had no prior martial arts training. What you do learn is how to use a few basic techniques in a variety of scenerios to protect yourself and possibly save your life. You learn how strong you can be. My partner, a black belt in Okinawan karate, took the course as well and it had a profound impact on her as well. For women, it is a valuable and life changing course.

I feel odd just repeating the many accolades about your books. I've read Ammonite and Slow River. I relish a book that pulls me in and won't let go. That describes my experience with your books. With Slow River, the delicious process of watching thin layer upon layer of story build was eaten with relish. I am saving the third book for a time when I can give it my full attention.

I've heard about Model Mugging; most of what I've heard is good. It's something I've thought about trying. There's nothing quite like beating the crap out of something that walks and talks like a person for building self-confidence. Martial arts can be so stylised that more often than not they are simply not meaningful when it comes to self defence. I know that the SD I taught was utterly divorced from the karate I was studying at the time, though it was in karate that I learnt how to focus the power of, for example, a punch.

I'm glad you liked the books. Let me know what you think of The Blue Place.

September 2, 1999

Hi, Nicola!

I discovered your webpage two months ago, after reading all three of your novels, and have now read everything on your website, printed it out and shared it with a teaching colleague. (I teach secondary math, German and science; my close friend colleague teaches English and social studies). You said in one response that you enjoy hearing from interesting people, so here's my story, before I tell you how wonderfully stimulating I find your mind!

I'm a newly-out lesbian, 34, coming from a Christian fundamentalist background. I only summoned the courage to leave the church two years ago, having did the usual repressive thing of getting married, and paid the price I knew I would pay of losing all friends and my family (parents and brother) when I finally did leave. I then experienced a year or so of deep depression and suicidal thoughts at the blackest points, and was helped by many friends and a wonderful therapist. I do share joint custody of my 4-yr old son, fortunately. So now I am 'remaking' myself, not dissimilar to the experience of being in a foreign country (I've spent time in Germany) with lots of choices available. I've been teaching for 10 years and am now considering returning to grad school so I can research and write about 'feminizing education' -- I want to apply feminist theory to the secondary educational system, particularly to science education, and continue teaching so I can test my theories. So that's who I am.

YOU are one incredibly gifted writer, and generally inspiring person. Before I tell you my specific responses to your work, I want to say that I think I 'got' all three of your novels. There isn't any part that I didn't see the point of, or anything that I thought needed to be different. I generally don't finish novels I don't like, and if I do like one, I assume that the author has crafted and edited ad nauseum and therefore does have a purpose, and that as the reader I might need to look for it. In your case I never had to look. I first read Ammonite about a year ago after a friend gave me a copy of Ammonite, promising me that it was good lesbian sci fi. I've been an avid reader all my life and sci-fi has always been one of my favorites. Your novel is easily in my top ten of 'greatest books ever read.' I was sorry when it ended, but carried so much of it with me that it almost didn't matter. I immediately appreciated the possibility of a virus altering reproduction in the way you hypothesized, and used your fiction to talk about genetics, reproduction and viruses with my Jr. High kids. Two of them (girls) even read the novel and loved it! As a reader, I was particularly drawn to the complexity of the world and its inhabitants that you'd created. Complexity of multiple characters is, for me, a defining trait of any good novel, whatever the genre. And I responded deeply to your depiction of women's love for each other. Deepsearch is now forever part of my consciousness and even vocabulary, resonating as it does with the intimacy that women experience with one another. That book had such special meaning for me that I bought a beautiful ammonite fossil this summer when I was in Seattle. I loved all that you conceived around that name.

After reading Ammonite I was, of course :), dying to read Slow River, and was first disappointed, and then fascinated and amazed at how different a novel it was. Very few authors manage to create such distinctly different stories, even genres between a first and second novel. The Blue Place just continued that! I think it attests to your incredible originality and creativity. Anyway, I did love Slow River, was differently moved, but moved just the same. The inner conflicts which you depicted so brilliantly are so much a part of my life, and of those I know, yet in our culture we aren't allowed much that's ambiguous. I carried language and thoughts away from that story and ponder them still. And the structure that you worked out was exactly perfect for creating the complex montage of the characters.

And then, of course, I read The Blue Place. What I immediately noticed was how expert you had become at sensual imagery. You take your reader straight into the Atlanta humidity, and then to Norway. I could smell, taste, see hear, feel, and, hardest of all, perceive all there is for the body and mind to respond to in those places. And I liked the ending. Really. Because you allowed Aud to be who she is, at that point, and for that reason I could more readily identify with the horrible, awful mistakes she made, than had she, in the course of the one novel and a few months, radically changed herself. I can't even begin to describe the comfort I derived at reading about a character who knows where her 'dark' place is. Because it means the author knows where hers is, and that means I'm not alone. And reading is one of those activities I do so as to know that there are people who are plagued with the same questions as I am, and who are working them out with the same difficulties I have. It is fundamentally at that most personal level that all three of your novels have affected me. And that is the highest praise I could give a novel. I wept through major portions of all of them.

On a different note, I enjoyed reading your articles and your responses to fan mail easily as much as your novels. I very much appreciate that you take the time to respond to people, and that you address each with respect and sincerity. (Though, as a teacher, I also loved your curt responses to students who want you to do their work for them. There was one particular such request which was up when I first looked at your site, but which is no longer in the archives. I was sorry it got deleted. I was going to print it out and hang it up in my classroom! My colleage and I have gleaned much from your descriptions of the writing process, and will use some of your language (giving credit, of course) with our own students. I'm especially hoping to interest more female students in playing around with sci-fi, though, like you, I don't think your work fits any particular genre description, and appreciate that you eschew the boxes which place limits on individuals.

I think I could go on and on. And I'll probably send again, but this is already much too long, and probably too long for public posting. I'll not be offended if you choose not to post it!

I look forward to your next novel, and to whatever comes after that, knowing that with your own high standards, whatever it is will be excellent.

I'm absolutely delighted that my work has been and is helpful to you both professionally and personally. There's nothing I like better as a writer than to hear that what I do matters in the real world.

It sounds as though you've been very brave--a quality I admire enormously. Many people in your position would have been so afraid of losing family, and community, and your son, that they would have kept their mouths and hearts shut. Fear keeps so many of us small when, if we would just take that step out into the unknown, we could be free to grow. One day it would be wonderful to meet you and shake your hand, and maybe buy you a glass or wine or a beer, and tell you in person how cool I think it is that you would not be intimidated.

I hope you do go back to school, and keep teaching. One of the best things I've ever done in my professional writer persona was to visit a catholic school and talk to a bunch of nine and ten year-olds about writing--basically about making stuff up, and how they shouldn't worry about what people thought of the stories they made up but that they should make up what pleased them. It was a lovely afternoon, watching their bright little faces glow with pleasure as they recounted their favourite story ideas (people-eating trees, silver rockets hurtling through space, dogs that did their homework for them <g>). This was nearly eleven years ago, and I still have one of their laboriously penned Thank You letters. It sounds as though you get much joy from teaching. I also think the youngsters you teach are quite lucky.

September 2, 1999

Thank you for Ammonite! The great works of speculative fiction are works of speculative sociology. And so Ammonite takes its place alongside Ursula K. Leguin's Always Coming Home, The Left Hand of Darkness, and The Dispossessed; Suzy McKee Charnas' Walk to the End of the World series; Michael Bishop's Beneath the Shattered Moons; Samuel R. Delaney's Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand; and Philip K. Dick's A Scanner Darkly. Suzy Charnas, a fellow eastern transplant to Albuquerque, recommended Ammonite to me. I'm glad to see from "Nicola Answers" that you recommend her work as well. Together with The Blue Place, I'm looking forward to reading Ms. Charnas' fourth work in the Walk to the End of the World line, titled The Conqueror's Child. I guess that my question is, what other works of "speculative sociology" might you recommend? Hopefully you have another one in the works.... ;) Best wishes for continued success!

One work that leaps to mind is Octavia Butler's Xenogenesis trilogy which has, I think, been published in an omnibus edition but which you may also find in its three separate volumes: Dawn, Adulthood Rites and Imago. The basic premise is that the aliens arrive in the solar system at a time when the human race has just about killed itself off, and they subject a carefully chosen few to an intensive breeding programme. Along the way, alien genes are mixed with human. Good stuff. Sturgeon's Venus Plus X takes an interesting premise and follows it to its conclusions--it's one of the earliest serious examinations of gender, and quite provocative. William Golding's Lord of the Flies (if you forgive the scrambling of physics with regard to Piggy's glasses) is a great example of sociological sf, as are Russ's The Female Man and Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time. If you want the big picture, then try Olaf Stapledon's Last and First Men, the story of the human race from beginning to end. Anthropological sf is one of my favourite genres. Two very recent novels worth checking out are Carolyn Gilman's Halfway Human and Stephen Leigh's Dark Water's Embrace. Both take an interesting look at sex and gender.

Sociological sf, more specifically anthropological sf, is one of my favourite genres. People are just about the most interesting things on this or any other planet. Imagining people being somehow different--even if it's just that they're in a wholly different place--fascinates me. One of these fine days I'd like to tackle some big, extra-solar system sf novel. Before I began The Blue Place, while I was still reading up on all things Norwegian but had not really decided on what to do with all the information, I had an idea for a world settled entirely by Scandinavians. I drew maps, thought up place names and mythologies and so on. I had a most marvellous time, day dreaming away to myself in the sunshine in the back garden. Right now I'm day dreaming about a kind of alternate earth for a fantasy novel I'm mulling. We shall see.

July 23, 1999

No question. Just finished The Blue Place. Once I started - i couldn't put it down 'til I'd finished! Please tell me your planing on writting more of this character 'Aud Toringen', she was exciting & real, your ending was surprising - yet real, I look forward to your upcoming works.

Thank you. As you can see from one of my replies above, Aud is taking up a lot of space in my brain at the moment. There will be several more books about her. At the same time, though, there are lots of other projects I'm working on, so there might not be a steady stream of Aud Torvingen. For example, I think I might have to write some short fiction before I tackle another novel--a bit like eating sorbet between course to refresh one's palate....

July 23, 1999

Dear Nicola

Nice to find a line of communication to be able to say how much I enjoyed reading Ammonite. A much handled copy was sent to me by my US friends and reading it helped lift me out of a squeezed, 2 dimensional place I move into to get thru heavy work loads. Your novel pulled me back to my rich, spiritual self at the end of hard, long days. As a lesbian I am moved and excited to be able to read of characters I can relate to, to be able to read a well written novel that moves into my world and mind-set for a change, and I love that you're British - perhaps a bit of latent patriotism is creeping up on me!

I read in an interview that you stayed in the US as you liked the experience of re-inventing yourself in a environment & culture where there were no preconceptions of who you were. This is one of my primary experiences of traveling too and although my home is London I come to the States frequently to reconnect with my "uncluttered" self and generally find out yet another aspect of me of which I had previously been unaware.

I work in theatre and recently spent some time at the West Yorkshire Playhouse. Should I find myself in Leeds again in the near future I'll give it your regards.

Living in the US has taught me a great deal about the way I was brought up and the attitudes inculcated in me from an early age. Sometimes, though, I miss being able to live among people whose judgement (and I'm speaking culturally here, not individually) I understand thoroughly; I feel the need to go back to the UK and compare myself-now with the myself-then, and see how far I've come (or how far I've slipped). It was disconcerting to find, on my last visit, that I was a stranger in a strange land. The simple things, like saying thank you, or being served in a restaurant, or being introduced to strangers by an old friend, all seemed foreign. I felt like an alien. For the first time, I had an inkling of how it might be to emerge from prison after a long sentence: it's still your country, yet it's irrevocably changed, and you no longer belong. When I got back here, of course, everything also seemed alien, and for a week or so I felt very sorry for myself. Now I'm back to thinking I'm just bi-continental and therefore very exotic <g>.

July 23, 1999

I just finished reading all three of your novels, practically one after another. They all, in one way or another, touched my soul deeply, and I can't thank you enough for sharing these stories with the world. I reached the ending of The Blue Place last night, and it left me drained... but wanting to know how Aud will deal with all of this.

I read somewhere on these pages your thoughts on a film version of The Blue Place. I can't imagine the typical studio not destroying it completly, but a lot of independent films retain their integrity, so maybe there is hope. Incidentally, I have experienced summer in Atlanta, and you really described its character very well :-)

Um... I guess I don't have a question (whoops)... just thanks. I haven't enjoyed the simple, lovely pleasure of reading good fiction this much in a long time.

With a lot of luck and the right economic climate (that is, that some lesbian film hadn't just bombed at the box office so the studio decided the film was doomed, and didn't even bother advertising), I think The Blue Place could work as major studio production. I think it's unlikely that anyone would try, but it could be done. Maybe I'm just an incurable optimist.

The tricky part would be getting the right actor to play Aud. The film would need a woman who, above all else, moves well. She would also have to be tall. The blonde hair and pale eyes aren't that important; it's the presence that counts. The whole point of Aud is that she is supremely confident--not over confident, just perfectly so. There are few people in the world who can convey that. Add to that the conventional wisdom that playing a dyke on screen (at least a happy, good-looking one who doesn't die <g>) is the kiss of death to your acting career and the pool narrows even further. There again, I do think it's a meaty role, with lots of potential for future character development.

A few years ago I would have said another problem would be finding someone to direct a woman in that role, someone who believed a woman like Aud could exist in the world, but I've been watching film and TV change rapidly over the last five years: Buffy and Xena and Nikita regularly win battles--physical, intellectual, emotional, and moral--and there have been shows and movies with women in leadership positions. The world has changed enough for this to work.

An independent production might mean I'd have the opportunity to be more involved, but that's not necessarily a good thing. I have no experience with film making, I'd be tempted to just leave it to the experts. Then there's the money to bear in mind: studios pay more. I was talking to some members of my family a few weeks ago and they were astonished to find out I'd turned down an offer from an independent producer for the rights to Slow River. "But that's a lot of money!" they said when I told them what I'd been offered. "Yes, but it wasn't enough," I said. They didn't get it: "But what if no one else makes an offer?" I had to explain in terms of building and selling a house. "Look," I said, "imagine if you built your own house. All you would have paid for is the materials, say forty thousand dollars' worth of board and pipe and electrical wire etc. etc., but when you're done, you have a house worth $150,000. If someone comes along and offers you $60,000, do you take it? No. It may well be that no one will want to buy it, but you have to believe in your own taste and your own sense of the value of what you have, what you've made with your own hands." Anyway, the woman I, or rather my agent, was negotiating with, genuinely loved the book, really wanted to make the film, and swore she would do a good job. I believed her. I think it would have been a fine film, but the book rights were worth more than she could afford to pay. I had to say no. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder What If, but most of the time I know I did the right thing. Most of the time.

July 23, 1999
From M. Hampton, hampjm@earthlink.com

I found your book to be interesting and inspiring. I hope to be able to complete a book of my own which might fit into the lesbian sci-fi theatre as well.

I'd like to know how to go about the research part of writing. I've started traveling and plan to incorporate this, but how does one find the specifics of tunnels and city buildings? I need things like that for detail in my current work.

Also, would you recommend all-female martial arts schools, taught by male instructors?

Thanks so much for The Blue Place. I'll read all of your things now, because Aud was absolutely amazing. I loved the character as well as the story build up.

Research is a rather individual and idiosyncratic pursuit. Some people rely on the web; some pick up the phone and talk to experts; some get books and periodicals from the library; some just make stuff up. So much depends on what, exactly, you need to know. For example, you say you want to find out about tunnels and city buildings. This covers a lot. Do you want to know about a specific building in a specific city and, if so, what do you want to know? Its materials? Its size? Who works there? Where the wiring is? What the annual property taxes are? Its architectural niceties? You would get information on those subjects from a variety of sources. The best place to start is at your local library: go to the reference section and ask for their help. If they don't know the answer, they will know where to point you so that you can find it yourself.

I can't give you advice about a course I'm not familiar with. The best way to decide about any kind of course--writing, martial arts, pottery, whatever--is to sit in on a class, and to talk to current or former students and find out what they think. Most martial arts schools are more than happy to let you watch a session or two, and just about every serious student of the martial arts delights in talking about his or her experience with this instructor or that. Watch, listen, decide.

July 23, 1999

This isn't a question and I don't expect a response. Your books are all fantastic. I recommend them to everyone. Like so many, I've always wanted to write, but I realize that I don't have the patience or the imagination to do it well. After reading your work, I can live with the satisfaction of knowing that someone in this world can create with such skill.

Nobody does have the patience or imagination at first. Writing isn't easy for any us. It's often fun, yes, but not often easy. Don't give up on something just because you don't believe you do it well. Do it anyway. You don't have to give it to anyone else to read. Writing has many uses. Play with it and find out.

July 23, 1999

I've read all three of your books to date, and just finished The Blue Place this afternoon. I like your vividly rendered three-dimensional characters, and your descriptive skills. I think the only problem I had with The Blue Place was an overly long sojourn in Norway. However, I really enjoyed the book. Aud is a magnificent character,and I liked the autobiographical touches that are involved, particularly her self-defence skills. I suppose my question is what happened next?

I want to know how Aud responded to the death of the woman she loved. I hope you consider writing a short story or better still, a sequel to The Blue Place. After all, at the end, her self-assured indomitable personality begins to crack as she comes to terms with what happened to Julia, and realises that her own oversight may have been responsible. I'm sure I'm not the only gay male fan of your work that wishes you well. What will your next project be, after this series of White Wolf anthologies is finished?

Sorry you thought the Norwegian section too long. Every word was there for a purpose and I'm quite pleased with it. Much of what I consider to be the whole point of the book is contained in what several readers have referred to as the Norwegian Idyll.

I am, in fact, writing the sequel to The Blue Place. I'm about 85% of the way through the first draft of what I'm calling, for now, Red Raw, though it's likely the title will change. The whole thrust of the novel is how Aud deals with the fact that Julia died, and that she might have lived if Aud had not made a couple of really bad mistakes.

After Red Raw is finished, well, I'm not really sure where I'll be heading next. I have ideas for several novels, and several short stories, all of which seem worth pursuing. Of course, ideas always look intriguing because they are still at the all-potential, no-work stage: the grass is always greener.... At this precise second, I think one of the short story ideas interests me the most. It's about sexuality: where it comes from, what it means, and what happens when it appears to change. It's also about the ethics of psychology and the nature of love. I have ideas for three or four novels, one of which is another Aud book, one of which is big old sword-swinging fantasy with magic and ships and trade wars, one is an old idea about a mad, clairvoyant parrot, and one is, well, a series of linked novellas about loss and alternate time lines. By the time I get round to beginning a new project, though, I'll probably have thought of something else entirely <g>.

Non-fiction is also a possibility. There's an essay I've been toying with, about my cultural theory of everything--about genre and fashion and identity. But before all that I have to finish Red Raw, do some teaching up in Vermont, do all the left over fiddly bits with the final Bending the Landscape volume, which is Horror, such as proofing and publicity and so on.

July 23, 1999
From Gary Shockley, eurekakid@netgate.net

Hi Nicola:

I have an 11,000-word story I would like to enter in the novella category for Calvino Prize contest; however, the contest rules do not specify lengths for the categories. From general writing sources I get the following lengths:
Short Story: up to 7,500 words
Novelette: 7,500 to 17,500 words
Novella: 17,500 to 40,000 words
Novel: 40,000 words and above

Since my story falls in the twilight zone between short story and novella, I'm at a loss as to how it will be handled.

As I am entering something else for the short story category, I need to ensure that this 11,000-word one can be entered as a novella before shipping it off..

Any clarification on the matter would be greatly appreciated.

The sponsors of the award tell me they're going by average page lengths. Anything up to 50 manuscript pages is a short story. Anything between 50 and 150 pages is a novella. Anything over that, a novel. In my experience, average word count per page on a properly formatted fiction ms. is less than 250, so I'd say 11,000 words is a short story.

Good luck.

June 20, 1999

No question, just praise for your novel Slow River, it was a great read. Just picked up a copy of The Blue Place and eager to plunge in. You are on many must read lists, mine included. Keep up the good work.

Thanks. Your comment about being on many lists coincides with a lot of thinking I've been doing lately about lists in general, their merits and otherwise. The thinking was triggered by the recent release, by the Publishing Triangle, of the 100 Greatest Gay and Lesbian Novels. There are some wonderful books (not all are really novels) on the list, but I have several problems with it.

Most publications are reprinting the list with the title "100 Best Gay Novels" and it's easy to see why: there are fourteen more novels by men than by women, and as several of the books by women are about men, there is a heavy male bias. Not surprisingly, the list is also heavily biased towards white authors. Fourteen judges (seven women, seven men, racially and culturally diverse) were given a preliminary list of about 600 titles (I don't know who prepared that, or what criteria they used) and asked to score those books with which they were familiar from 0 to 10. Given the way we are educated in this culture, it should surprise no one that the judges were more familiar with books by white boys than those by any other group. The kind of bias we're seeing is inevitable if cultural/educational prejudice isn't taken into account during the preparation of such lists. If I were Empress of the Universe, I'd make it a condition that all the judges read all the novels. Of course, you'd have to pay them, and it would take a long time, but at least you'd end up with a better list. And you can bet there would be some genre titles on the list.

I'd be willing to bet that several of the judges have never read a single science fiction novel in their lives or, if they have, they would be afraid to admit they had liked it. Why do I say this? Well, Joanna Russ is on that list, but not with The Female Man or any of her other wonderful SF novels (or collections of short fiction) but with On Strike Against God, her only mainstream novel, the only thing I've ever read by her that could be described as mediocre.

What are lists like this for? If I were feeling charitable I'd say: To educate. I think the Publishing Triangle missed a gold opportunity.

June 20, 19999

From Cheryl, cheryll@online.no
Congratulations on a great book. Where did you get your background information on Norwegians from? Having lived in Norway for over 25 years I can attest not only to its accuracy but also its relevancy. Your assessment of the Norwegian personality as evolving from the idiosyncrasies of Norwegian climate and nature was a real literary treat. The only point I would contend with is the scene with the Sami taxi driver who charges less because "he expects to be treated badly." Of course Norway isn't perfect and historically its treatment of the Sami people has been racist, but the scene itself seems contrived and totally unbelievable. As in most of Europe, the racism today is worst for people of colour. And they are often cab drivers. When will this novel be translated into Norwegian?

I got my Norwegian information from a variety of sources: a couple of guidebooks (one of which was a Rough Guide), an old, old book on Norwegian history, a book on Norwegian architecture (which taught me a lot, I think, about the Norwegian psyche, though I doubt that was the author's primary intention), and from a woman who lived in Norway for three years. I asked her to tell me anything she thought I should know; she told me about vindskaps and food cellars. For how it looked, I went to the guide books. For everything else, I just daydreamed and imagined, which as you've pointed out (sigh) led me astray in at least one instance. I was just so determined to show that Norwegians had their faults, too....

As for when the book will be translated, your guess is as good as mine. As soon as some Norwegian publisher wants to buy it, I suppose <g>.

June 1, 1999

From Garry Garrett, gsgarrett2@fuse.net
Nicola, I've written a very short (3000 words) story that I think may have a place in a series such as Bending the Landscape. Is this anthology going on? Will you, if you're editing the next anthology, accept an unsolicited story? Or would you suggest submitting the story elsewhere?

BTW- I am an Organic chemist and I was very impressed with your handling of the scientific jargon in Slow River. Your ability to apply your apparent "journal" reading to the story was impressive. I thought it was technically very sound although I'm no expert on industrial waste management. Of course, engineered microbes have existed for some time. I remember hearing of them in the 70's when there was such an uproar about oil spill eating microbes. Nonetheless, the current state of transgenics opens up lots of interesting and potentially practical uses for such nanobiomechanical systems (I think that's what you called them).

Thanks in advance for considering my question and for entertaining me with Slow River. I hope you return to SF very soon.
Garry Garrett
Bending the Landscape, the series, is now closed. We've filled all three volumes and I don't anticipate doing more (for the reasons behind this, see earlier Ask Nicola responses). While we were open, however, almost all the stories we read were unsolicited. Most short fiction markets still accept unsolicited work. Accepting stuff over the transom makes for more work for the editor, but it means that everyone has an opportunity. I find it faintly worrisome that many publishers now only accept novel mss. from agented authors. I understand the decision (editors labour under terrible workloads) but I often wonder if the good stuff gets lost. When I was first working on Ammonite, I took the ms. to several agents, all of whom turned me down. In the end, I only got an agent because Malcolm Edwards at HarperCollins was interested in me and my work. I wonder what would have happened if he had never heard of me through those short stories in Interzone, had never asked if I might be writing a novel, had never prompted me to start writing that novel....

I had a lot of fun with that waste management system. Being a writer means I get the best of all worlds: I get to research as little or as much as I want, I get to design things, but I'm not responsible for making sure they actually work. In the case of Slow River, I think this is probably a good thing <g>.

June 1, 1999

Hello Nicola! Just finished The Blue Place which like Slow River leaves one absolutely breathless/speachless. The writing is so good! I was happy to see in the archives that The Blue Place is not going to be the end of the story. I am writing to encourage more stories about Aud. As a voracious reader and librarian, I can't begin to tell you what a dearth of really good writing with lesbian characters is out here. You and Emma Donnaghue are to be treasured and honored. No real questions but please more Aud...will she turn to stone or live? What can be next? More about her relationship with her mother? who will possibly salvage her heart after Julia? Give my favorite male detective writer Robert Parker ( The writing isn't anywhere near as good as yours but something about Aud resonants with me the way Spenser and perhaps La Femme Nikta and Similia in Hoeg's Smilia's Sense of Snow ~ before the stupid ending) a run for his money! More Aud. Anyway I am babbling now..thanks for sharing your writing gifts with the rest of us. Are you enjoying Seattle? Take care
There will be more Aud, a lot more. All your questions will be answered along the way, though many of them not until the third book. The second book is almost entirely about Aud's attempts to cope with the traumatic events of The Blue Place. Oh, she rescues a few people, and destroys and illegal child immigrant ring, and kills someone with her bare hands, but mainly it's an internal novel; the peril in which she finds herself is more psychological than physical.
I've just read the latest Spenser novel by Robert B. Parker. It was a fast, easy read, perfect for a couple of hours on a rainy afternoon in Seattle. One gulp and it's gone. I'd love my work to be read like that, in one sitting. The way in which I hope my novels are different is that I want them to be substantial enough that they don't disappear from the reader's mind as completely as Spenser disappears from mine once I've finished the book. I want the reader to be haunted by images, by ideas, by the themes and threads and decisions of character and milieu. I want the reader to engage with the text on a meaningful level. I want my books to matter in people's lives.
Yes, I'm enjoying Seattle. I love the fact that there are few mosquitoes and cockroaches, that cars stop for me when I want to cross the road, that there's a pub at the top of our street, less than two blocks from the house, where they know our names and bring two pints of Fullers before we've even taken our coats off. Lovely. Things (food, wine, clothes, real estate) are expensive here but there's something about this city: the people are polite but kind (and smart), the food is interesting and delicious, the beer and chocolate are the best on the continent. There are fewer bookshops than there were but still many, and if you spit in the dirt it will grow (a pain when it comes to weeding, but a delight when the strawberries and pears and cherries and raspberries that even I, an idiot when it comes to gardening, can raise). A good place to live.

June 1, 1999

I just wanted to give you accolades for your amazing writing. I have come out, gone back in, and come out again in the past two years and read everything you have written in that time. I confess, I'm still in love with Spanner and can't wait for your new novel. I read one of the excerpts in Best Lesbian Erotica 1999, I was happy to see that you published in that because some of the scenes in Ammonite and Slow River were truly amazing.

Good luck with life.

I've found myself thinking about Spanner lately and wondering what she might be doing these days...then I remember she doesn't actually exist and I grin and shake my head and try get back to what I'm working on.
I spend so much time inventing/learning about the characters who people my work that when I finish a book it's moving out of state or to a different country and leaving friends behind. I find myself wanting to send them email, or talk to them on the phone. I understand why novelists want to write sequels; sometimes letting go is too hard. With Slow River and Ammonite, the departure was permanent; with The Blue Place, it's temporary. Except for Julia, of course. When I got my copy of Best Lesbian Erotica 1999 through the mail and read that excerpt where Julia and Aud spar again for the first time it made me feel terribly nostalgic.