GRADUAL INTERVIEW (January 2007)
Matt:  Let me just quickly admit I have no exact quotes or references to back up anything I'm about to say. However, I'm pretty sure that on a number of appearances Foul implies that as long as he can escape the Arch of Time, he's certain to win victory over the Creator.

Assuming I'm right in recalling this...is this just misleading propoganda? Is Foul claiming this under the assumption that he'll have access to the White Gold? Or is there some other reason Foul might be guaranteed of victory?

For a stupider question, who's stronger between Mhoram and Kevin? I'd assume Kevin, but I really like Mhoram so I thought I'd make sure.
It's always been my understanding that "victory" for LF would be escape from Time. He can't "win victory over the Creator," any more than life can win victory over death (or vice versa). They are both Essential Principles of eternity: like light and dark, one has no meaning without the other. In the context of eternity, LF's "victory over the Creator" would be his escape from Time, which would necessarily include the destruction of the Arch, which would in turn destroy the specific instance of Creation that includes the Earth and the Land. Putting it as childishly as possible: "I broke your favorite toy, so I win."

However, there are suggestions in "The Runes of the Earth" that LF may have raised his sights a bit (said the author shamelessly).

Who is stronger, Mhoram or Kevin? Well, duh: Ben Grimm. Or, if I *must* try to give you a serious answer <sigh>, Kevin has more muscle (lore etc.) but Mhoram has more heart.

(01/01/2007)

Matthew Yenkala:  
OK, I do not believe this has quite been covered in the GI, so here goes.

You are, very clearly, a writer, a wordsmith, a worker in prose. You have said over and over that it's what you are, storytelling is what you do, it's in your blood and bone.

You have stated that other forms of art--pictures, film, music--can affect and move you greatly. You have listed books and TV shows that you have enjoyed.

So my question is, have you EVER dabbled with any type of creative expressin beyond writing (and perhaps martial arts)? Painting, singing, kazoo blowing?

Artful and creative as many of your GI answers are, btw, I don't think they count, as it's still writing!

Just a lighthearted question for the holiday season...and I wish you the best for that season, btw.

Genuine Love

Matteo Yenkala morphiaflow@yahoo.com
Phoenix, AZ
At one time in my life, I sang a great deal. In fact, if I could have an imaginary life to go along with my real one, I would love to be an opera singer--as long as I could do it without the performance anxiety. (I’ve also wanted to be a pianist, but that’s even less realistic. Lousy small-motor coordination. And in the long run playing the piano would probably give me less emotional satisfaction than singing.) Upon occasion--he admitted with some embarrassment--I still sing along with operas while I’m working.

(01/03/2007)

Michael from Santa Fe:  OK, you're coming up on having answered 1500 questions as part of this "interview". Good job and thanks! You've mentioned (in one of your numerous other answers) that internal consistency in your stories is very important and you have huge amounts of notes to keep everything straight for you. However, when you answer some of these questions (which can be very detailed in what they want you to relate as far as why a character acted the way they did or the rules/laws of how things work in the imagined realm) how do you manage to keep that consistency in your answers (without constantly referring to said notes)? I'm not saying you *haven't* been consistent - I probably don't pay close enough attention to the minutae of some of your answers to know if anything you said in answer to one question doesn't jive with another answer (or the published text) - but I'm curious if this worries you or if you just do the best you can wherever you happen to be when answering our endless questions? Thanks again!
I suppose it’s about the context of the question. Or maybe it has more to do with my mood. I’ve been known to check my facts rather obsessively when I answer GI questions. At other times, however, I just sort of wing it, trusting to my own understanding of my work to supply consistency as needed. You could say that different questions “tweak” me in different ways. But I do sometimes find myself taking a position that I suddenly realize I can’t defend: then I really get serious about consistency.

In short: sometimes I worry about it; sometimes I don’t.

(01/03/2007)

Steve:  Hello Mr.Donaldson. I got your reply to my April 2006 post about the use of obscenity in Runes of the Earth. I truly appreciate the attention you have given this. I am also quite impressed with the thorough detail in which you responded to my protest. In the last paragraph of your response you mentioned that you would have been "lying" if you allowed Barton Lytton to exist in your book without obscenity.

"So I ask you: what would the effect be if I "cleaned up" Barton Lytton; if I made him less offensive in his conduct, therefore more comfortable to read about? Wouldn't that constitute *lying*? Wouldn't that imply that human evil isn't *really* as bad as we all know it is?" (04/02/2006)

My question is this: How can you justify your statement to me in light of the incredible success of the previous Chronicles (which had no such obscenity)? You made Thomas Covenant one of the most memorable and "real" characters that has ever existed on the written page (without using such obscenity). Your readers understood perfectly well how evil Covenant's human nature was without obscenity. You found other creative avenues of description and THAT was the beauty of it all! I know that you have used obscenity in other books, but I still hold to my position that "Covenant" does not need it. In fact, I would suggest that the quality of the previous Chronicles were exemplified in their lack of obscenity.

In closing, I love your books and I just wanted to say thank you very much for all the hard work you are putting into the Last Chronicles. Differences aside, I would like to wish you and your family the very best during the holiday times. Merry Christmas to you Mr.Donaldson. Hope to hear from you soon.
Thank you for your good wishes. I don’t want to prolong this discussion because I doubt that we’ll ever agree on it. (Which is not a criticism of either of us: your opinions are just as valid as mine.) But I feel compelled to observe that when you compare what I was able to do with Thomas Covenant and what I did with Barton Lytton, you’re comparing, well, apples and oranges (to coin a phrase <sigh>). According to Karl Marx, “Differences in degree become differences in kind.” In this case, the difference I’m referring to is one of narrative space/room/pages. Creating and developing Covenant, I had (literally) hundreds of pages to work with. I could afford to deploy a large amount of material to dramatize (“show” rather than “tell”) his nature. With Lytton, I had, what? a grand total of ten pages? Fifteen at the outside? (I haven’t checked the exact number.) As a result, I didn’t have many options. The circumstances of the story required me to work efficiently--or *crudely*, if you prefer. Give me another thirty pages, and I could have approached the character differently. But I didn’t have that kind of room.

Doubtless your central objection remains: Lytton’s rhetoric--and Linden’s response to it--violates the *tone* that you’ve come to expect from the “Covenant” books. If that statement of your position is accurate, you have six books worth of justification for your expectations. In response, I can only say that I have constructive reasons for violating the tone of what has gone before. In fact, “violating the tone of what has gone before” has been essential to my intentions ever since I decided to move beyond the first trilogy. The Sunbane certainly violated the former “tone” of the Land. Lytton’s rhetoric prepares the way (metaphorically or symbolically rather than literally) for some of the things I’m doing in “The Last Chronicles”.

(01/03/2007)

Jason D. Wittman:  Hello again, Mr. Donaldson. Hope all is well.

In your previous posts on the GI, you have stated that you only come up with the information that you *need* in order to tell a story (for instance, you haven't written up indiviual biographies for each of the Old Lords because that would be irrelevant to the story you're writing). My question is: do you have to make a conscious effort to find a happy medium between too much information and too little? I'm asking this because I saw a showing a short time ago of Carl Theodor Dreyer's 1932 film *Vampyr* (supposedly based on J. Sheridan LeFanu's *Carmilla*, though I failed to see any but the vampire connection), and it frustrated me because it made very little sense. There was some disturbing imagery in it--one scene, which simply shows a door opening by some unseen impetus, was particularly disquietening--but for the most part, I was too confused to be scared. I understand the concept of withholding information in true (as opposed to slash & gore) horror--the monster around the corner is always scarier than the one in front of you--but in *Vampyr*, Dreyer was withholding *too* much. As a friend of mine excellently put it, "The job is to disturb the audience, not bewilder it." (One horror film that works very well with a minimum of information is 1962's *Carnival of Souls*, a low-budget flick that has developed a cult following.)

The good thing about this is that the one scene with the opening door inspired me to write a story that takes place on an abandoned sailing ship (so I can completely buy your story of a can of Lysol inspiring a scene in *The Power That Preserves*). But I'm curious to hear your thoughts about this. How closely do you have to monitor the information that you put in your stories?

Thank you for your time.

Jason
I suspect that every communicator--from artists to politicians--faces some version of this dilemma. Different intentions impose different requirements, but the essential problem is always present: what, and how much, to put in; what, and how much, to leave out. I like to use the analogy (in fact, I like it so much that it almost certainly occurs more than once in the GI) of walking vs driving. Someone (the writer) who walks past a tree sees a very different tree than someone (the reader) who drives past it. Yet it is the writer’s challenge to create a tree that the reader can both see and appreciate. So exactly how many leaves and branches *does* that tree need? Too many, and they blur. Too few, and the tree loses its character.

In practice, this is always a judgment call--and some communicators will always display better judgment than others. (I haven’t seen “Vampyr,” so I can’t comment.) As I’ve said often, I only create what I need; but perhaps I should modify that assertion. In terms of my “tree” analogy: when I say that I only create what I need, I’m talking about *branches*. Races. Continents. Histories. Even characters and plot developments. But if we’re talking about how many *leaves* a particular branch should have--put crudely, how many words I should throw at a particular scene or landscape or interaction or emotion--my first-draft answer is: As many as possible. Describe as much as possible. Explain as much as possible. Reveal as much as the exigencies of the story permit. I don’t want to risk blocking my creative flow, or missing the crucial detail which brings everything to life, by (prematurely) restricting the number of leaves a branch can hold. Later, of course, I prune. Sometimes I prune a lot. But I would rather begin with the (easily corrected) mistake of too much than the (potentially fatal) mistake of too little.

So “do [I] have to make a conscious effort to find a happy medium between too much information and too little?” Absolutely. Not to mention constantly. And I believe that every communicator has to do the same. My approach may be idiosyncratic, but the problem I’m trying to solve is universal.

(01/03/2007)

Vincent:  
I've come across a literary agency that offers a free first chapter critique, up to 20 pages, and I was wondering if you think it would be helpful to submit my work to such a critique? I have a feeling that much like hunger or wisdom, criticism may indeed be a fine thing, but who would willingly subject themselves to it? (Heh, well the wording isn't exact, but I'm sure you recognize Foamfollower's remark.)

Have you ever read the Misson Earth decology?

As always it is a great pleasure to share my thoughts with you Mr. Donaldson. I hope this holiday season finds you happy and well.
Two things. 1) Everyone needs criticism. Call it “feedback” if you prefer. Without it, we don’t learn. In “real life,” life itself provides constant feedback (or criticism, if you happen to be feeling depressed <grin>). In creative efforts, we often have to go looking for feedback. While I’m working on a book, I go to extreme lengths to acquire the kind of useful criticism I know I need; and I try to keep my eyes open for the kind of criticism I *don’t* know I need.

2) The “literary agency” you describe. This sounds like a scam to me. *If* it’s a scam (I emphasize “if”), it goes like this. “Your first 20 pages show tremendous promise. We want to read the whole book. Unfortunately, time constraints require us to charge a fee. Please send us the book with your check for $1500.” If you choke up the money, the next response is, “We’re very excited about your novel. Unfortunately, it isn’t publishable the way it is. Based on what we’ve read, we don’t think you have the skills to do the necessary rewriting. When we receive your check for $7500, we’ll do the rewriting for you.” And if you’re still going along with it, the next response is, “You now have a wonderful book. In fact, we’re so excited about it that we want to publish it ourselves. We’ll need $20,000 to start the process, but your royalties will repay you many times over.” And if you’re *still* going along with it, you may receive an actual book. In fact, you may receive every single copy of the book--none of which will ever be sold because you’re dealing with a vanity press instead of a real publisher.

A reviewer once observed that one of L. Ron Hubbard’s “Mission Earth” books was satirical, and concluded, “It is written with a disdain for syntax so global as to suggest a satire on the very possibility of communication through language.”

(01/10/2007)

Perry Bell:  Hello Stephen,
I know you have stated your <snicker> love of questions about magic, but I just have to ask this.
Why is it when Linden uses the staff of law, the fire emitted from the staff is yellow rather than the blue fire that was emitted when used by a lord? Does it have to do with the weilder of the staff, or the spirit of the weilder? I also wondered if this is an effect of linden wearing the ring but not actively employing the wild magic too.
Thanks again for all you do.
Perry Bell
Several reasons (although the presence and/or use of white gold is not among them). Of course, as you surmise, the spirit of the wielder is crucial. And Linden *made* her own Staff: after Berek, the Lords inherited the Staff. In addition, the Lords had lore: Linden does not (a detail not to be underestimated).

(01/10/2007)

Mark A. Morenz:  Hello Stephen:

As always, many kudos and thanks for your creative endeavors (including this website's interactive content)!

Two Parts:

1-As I have had the opportunity to work with editors a bit (re: short stories), I've noticed a couple of biases that I'd be interested in hearing your feedback about:

A bias towards Realism versus Expressionism, even in spec fic-- Once I attempted a non-dictionary usage of a word (e.g. the girl "frumped" her face) and the editor refused to publish the short story until I changed it; although I'm willing to bet that more people would recognized how I used the word than how the dictionary defines it. How much leeway should an author be given to create their own idioms?

Love of language versus love of communicating-- The bias towards "love of language", it seems to me, leaves editors favoring (and excusing) longer, more baroque passages even when fewer words can communicate the scene. For the sake of argument, let's say that more words aren't needed for clarity.

2-Also, after a few acceptances, I've taken to moving past the "submitting to the semi-pro ezines" stage and have begun the "investigating literary agents for queries" stage. And not just for short-stories, but also for my novel as well. Any thoughts as you recall that stage in your career? I always pay careful attention to the advice (both implicit and explicit) found in your answers.

Can't wait for FR. Be well!

:-{)]

Mark M.

1) a) Writers have to *earn* the right to violate conventional usage. You have to prove that you’re a master of the “normal” before you can get away with the “unusual”. And you have to create a rhetorical context in which the “unusual” fits. If your editors won’t let you do something “unusual,” that may be because you haven’t convinced them you’re the master of your effects.

b) “Clarity” is by no means the *only* dimension of communication--or the only requirement of storytelling. Words have connotation as well as denotation. And what I’ll call “resonance” is important. Many are the situations in which mere “clarity” reduces content. It’s the absolute minimum that I demand of myself--and expect from other writers. I’m always striving (or hoping) for more.

Meanwhile, your experience with editors contradicts mine. As far as I can see, “love of language” is dying out.

2) I didn’t go through “investigating literary agents” until after the first six “Covenant” books had already been published. Since I was extremely successful at that time, I could have had any agent I wanted. And by then I knew *many* writers, so I had both the freedom and the opportunity to spend a year “sifting” reputations before I settled on a candidate. Unless modern publishing changes dramatically, circumstances like mine will not recur. As a result, my experience isn’t germane to anyone else.

(01/10/2007)

Dangerous Dave from Denver:  So what are some of the perks of being a famous writer? Any drawbacks?
What? There are “perks”? Why wasn’t I told about this?

But seriously. As in so many things, the good news is the bad news. Success brings validation (and who doesn’t need validation these days?). Therefore success is also seductive: it lures attention away from the quality of the work and toward the reception of the work. Put another way: success feeds ego--and ego isn’t conducive to artistic integrity. Writers (in fact, artists of all kinds) who lose the distinction between work and ego--who strive for success rather than for excellence--are doomed. (Of course, I don’t mean *financially* doomed. But money is a pretty damn empty measure of excellence. And ultimately money is a pretty damn empty form of validation.)

(01/10/2007)

Dave:  Mr. Donaldson,

Thanks again for your writing and answering all our questions. Recently, I had a craving to read the First and Second Chronicles again. Couldn't find them in the basement, so I went out and ordered a new set of paperbacks. Hope you still benefit from the sales.

But the artist that does the covers - hope he/she isn't getting overpaid. Here's my question - does the artist usually read the book before creating the cover illustrations? The reason I'm asking is that the cover of The White Gold Wielder has a picture of a man and a woman, I'm assuming Covenant and Linden. They're standing on a plateau looking out over a valley. The man (Covenant?) as his ring on the left hand, which is around the woman's shoulder (Linden?). And in his right hand, he's holding the new Staff of Law. If I remember the ending of the book correctly, the event depicted isn't exactly in the timeline.

Are artists given this much leeway in their work?
Where cover art and leeway are concerned, there is enormous variety. Some publishers refuse to let their artists read the book: the art director describes the image/scene he/she wants, and the artist attempts to do satisfactory work. Some publishers own stock portfolios of pre-painted art, and they simply grab something out of the pile when they need a cover. In contrast, some artists will not do a cover without reading the book; and they often insist on choosing their own images/scenes. Lester del Rey considered cover art paramount: he let the artist do whatever the artist felt like--and they he changed the book to suit the cover. Some editors only care about the artist’s reputation: the specific art is a trivial consideration. In the case of the cover you describe, the editor asked the artist (Michael Herring) to create one vast painting which could be cut into six panels for the six “Covenant” books; and what the editor wanted in the original painting was symbolic resonance and variety rather than literal accuracy.

But speaking *very* broadly: editors consider an “evocative” image/scene far more important than a “literal” one. Hence the many inaccuracies you’ve observed.

(You may be interested to know that Darrel K. Sweet’s original cover for WGW depicted Marie Antoinette, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and a rhinoceros confronting Hawkman. First I wept. Then I screamed. Fortunately the success of TOT gave me the clout to insist on changes.)

(01/10/2007)

Kat:  I read all the Covenant books and thought they were great but then I read your recent comments on The Chronicles of Narnia and thought you were totally nonsensical, I like you had my brain mutated by those Lewis books but they still affect me whilst you have said that they bored you now, this is strange considering you have a whole essay 'Books That Mattered' on this very website praising the Narnia stories.

I thought the Peter Jackson adaptation of Tolkien was an abomination. The homunculus visage of Elijah Wood was like a cataract on the books for me. I heard you didn't like the films either.

Do you agree with Larry Niven's idea that magic is a nonrenewable resource like any other in nature? I always thought this was an intriguing notion. Did this influence your writing the Thomas Covenant books in any way?
I've cut out quite a few of your questions. I only have so much time to spend on the Gradual Interview, and I need to give other readers a turn. Feel free to re-post as many questions as you want (although I never guarantee that I'll answer them <rueful smile>).

First, "Narnia." I told the truth in "Books That Made A Difference". Those books transformed my imagination--when I was in junior high school. I might not be who I am today if I hadn't read them. But when I re-read them as an adult (30 years ago?), I found them preachy--and far too short to be really engaging. And when I read them aloud to my children (20 years ago?), we were all bored.

Looking back, I think that I was transformed because Lewis showed me storytelling possibilities that I had never encountered before: an escape from the constrictions of missionary life without violating missionary beliefs (which I would have found too threatening at that age). Those possibilities suited me in profound ways that I could not have understood at the time. But I can't enjoy the books now. They're too short: they don't give me room to settle in. Their preachiness makes them seem condescending. And from time to time, Lewis' storytelling is outright *bad*. Just one example to show you what I mean. Lewis doesn't consistently protect the integrity of his "sub-creation" (Tolkien's term). Whenever he feels like it, he violates his own world by bringing in material from other sources (e.g. Father Christmas). These violations don't *fit*: they disrupt the necessary "suspension of disbelief".

Naturally I don't expect to persuade you. I don't even *want* to persuade you. My opinions are just my opinions. I'm simply explaining my position.

Second, Jackson's LOTR films. I had two advantages. One, I know that no movie can replicate a book: different media impose different content. ("Harry Potter" may be an exception; but I'm not going to get dragged into that discussion.) I went to see Jackson's films *knowing* that they could not tap Tolkien's springs of emotion and imagination. Two, I expected the films to be BAD. Abysmal. A travesty. So I was pleasantly surprised, even delighted, to find that the films are very well made on their own terms--and that they show real respect for their source material (unlike, say, Lynch with "Dune"). From my perspective, Jackson did what he could--which turned out to be a lot more (and better) than we had any right to expect.

I don't read Niven, so I wasn't aware of his ideas. But I've made it clear in the GI that I think entropy rules. (Why else do my characters get so tired when they expend power?) In the context of "The Chronicles," magic is a nonrenewable resource--in the same sense that *sunlight* is a nonrenewable resource. Sure, our sun is burning itself out. But humankind may very well make itself extinct many millions of years before dwindling sunlight becomes a problem. I think of Earthpower (and even wild magic) in the same terms.

(01/17/2007)

Perry Bell:  Hello Stephen,
I have seen several questions posted regarding Lindens need for the staff, but I have a question that hasnt been asked. You are probably tired of the questions about the staff which seems to have exploded onto the site recently, but here it is..
I have re-read every TC book (should be a staple in every household) and the original staff had carvings on it, even the medal heels. The new staff (created by Linden) didnt have the carvings but the heels did because they were the same ones retained by Bannor after TC destroyed the original staff with wild magic.The carvings on the heels however are some kind of symbols? Either symbols, or possibly words (this was never named in any of the books), would it be possible for the meanings of these words or symbols to be translated by the haruchai or by the giants if they appear? Also, could those carvings mean anything that could HELP Linden?
Thanks again for all you do! I cant wait till Fall 2007!
Perry Bell
There are times when I really want to urge you guys to get a life. <rueful smile> Don’t you have better things to think about? (Whether or not I do myself is an open question.)

It’s safe to assume that everything about those iron heels (maybe I should have called them “bands” since Vain was able to get them on his wrists) contributes to their power, or to their role in the Staff’s power: the composition of the iron, the way it was forged, the engraved (or stamped, or cast) symbols/runes/pictographs. But I wouldn’t expect the Giants or the Haruchai to be able to translate the markings. None of those people have ever had access to the Lords’ Lore. (And where did the Lords *get* that Lore? Anyone?) And I certainly wouldn’t expect the *author* to provide a translation, since he tries so hard to avoid being “literal” about magic.

But will the symbols/carvings/whatever *help* Linden? How could they not? They’re important to what the Staff of Law *is*. And (ooh, déjà vu) she *needs* the Staff.

(01/17/2007)

Brian Matthews:  So, after D&A of FR, what do you do then? Relax with a challenging round of progressive hopboard? Take a well earned vacation, and not just from writing? Or run around the city yelling, "Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last." <grin>
One of the (smaller) frustrations of being a writer is that you don’t get to feel DONE with a book. The work doesn’t end in a cathartic apotheosis: it seems to dribble on indefinitely. Last minute editorial suggestions. Copy-editing. Proofreading. Cover copy. Press releases. Book tours. After a while, you (or I, in this case) feel frantic to just GET IT OVER WITH.

But there *is* a break--a potential vacation--surrounding D&A. Of course, the time spent waiting to hear whether my editors will officially approve the latest draft isn’t very relaxing. Once my editors announce their satisfaction, however, the pressure is off for a while. Which in my case means that it’s time to tackle All Those Things I’ve Been Putting Off. (“A change is as good as a rest.”) And get more sleep. I know, I know: that doesn’t sound like much of a vacation. Or even a celebration. But I already spend too much of my time alone. I need the right people to celebrate--or take vacations--with. And their schedules don’t always mesh well with mine. (There *are* other dimensions to this issue--but I value my privacy.)

(01/17/2007)

Debbie R:  Mr Donaldson
I am fascinated by the idea of aliantha and am wondering how you got the idea of the flavor that you describe. I can't help but wonder if there would be a way to make aliantha flavored candy out there somehow!!

I also have to tell you that the mirror of her dreams got my sister hooked on you as an author about 8 years ago, and I am so proud that I passed along the "addiction" for you wonderful work..

Last question I promise.. do you ever do book tours and if so would you please consider coming to Alaska?? I promise to get my husband to take you salmon fishing if you will come.. yes that is a bribe of sorts

Just started the Runes of the Earth, as usual I am hooked again!!
Some ideas have explicit etiologies. Others (like the flavor of aliantha) seem to just happen. My experience of them is that they are generated by the act of writing: they are, in a sense, “given to me” by my story (or by my efforts to find the right language for my story). So: I don’t think of a flavor and then try to describe it. I just try to put words together in ways that feel right. Then one thing leads to another--and I just keep going. Often I don’t think things like, “That’s actually a pretty cool idea,” until long afterward (e.g. during revision).

As I’ve said before, I don’t choose whether or not I do book tours, or where they go when I do them. (Of course, I *could* refuse to do them at all. But that would make my publishers unhappy: a bad thing for a writer. If I say yes, they decide where and how they want to spend their money.) Alaska seems a pretty unlikely destination (not enough people). And the prospect of salmon fishing would actively induce me to stay away. <grin> Not my idea of fun.

(01/17/2007)

Phillip:  Once again, thank you for daring to do what no other author does, facing a veritable onslaught of questions from fans online and daring to answer many of them.

Recently I've been reading through a lot of the fantasy novels of Fred Saberhagen (Swords and Lost Swords.) If I were to classify my attitude towards them, I'd probably consider them "guilty pleasures," i.e. books that are interesting enough to grab my imagination and make me read quickly to the very end (seemingly after I get the first couple of chapters out of the way), but with very little that makes me think something like "Wow! What a tour de force!" at the end of the novel. That definitely makes his books above average according to my experience of them, I neither get bored with his writing nor do I ever feel that the stories he present aren't worth being taken seriously, but on the other hand what I've read doesn't have an effect that stays with me like the authors whose works I admire most. (Here's where I pathetically assure you that you're the best and beg for you to send us the rest of The Last Chronicles as quickly as possible.) Anyhow, I happened to run across this blurb from you on one of these books.

"Fred Saberhagen has always been one of the best writers in the business." -- Stephen R. Donaldson.

After I read that, I spent a bit of time thinking about why I prefer your books (and those of authors such as Gene Wolfe, Tolkein, and Ursula Le Guin) to his. I identified two charicteristics that I really enjoy but which seem to be less prominent in Saberhagen's works than in those of other authors I like such as yourself. These would be character who change over time in response to meaningful events in the story and fictional worlds and cultures that feature a lot of diversity and detail that adds up to a realistic whole. In fact it has always surprised me that you have several times spoken about your "economy" when coming up with the little details that make The Land so realistic; you certainly give the impression that the details of The Land's history and culture are very precise if unspoken.

Anyhow, I went through all of this to ask this fairly "simple" question: what particular aspects of Mr. Saberhagen's writings do you find admirable?
I’ve known Fred for many years. What I admire most is his craftsmanship. He’s never written a stupid book. He may never have written a stupid paragraph. That kind of conscientious intelligence is rarer than you might think. It is certainly rarer than it ought to be.

(01/17/2007)

Kirk:  Dear Steve,

First off I'd like to say am a huge fan of your work and it has touched me deeply. I have a "just for fun" question that I don't think has been asked yet and may give us some insight into your character as an author. My question is this, if you had a "magic ticket" that would allow you to visit any place or anyone, from any era in the land you created in your covenant books, would you use it? If so, who would you want to talk to and why? Or where would you most want to visit?

Myself I would actually like a crack at Lord Foul (under very controlled and safe circumstances *grin*) to find out what makes him tick and why he feels to need to be so evil just for the sake of being evil. Other than being pissed about being locked away in the land. Why doesn't he just decide to make the best of things, if for no other reason then to make existance tolerable? Obviously this would spoil the need for an antagonist but it would be interesting to know.

Anyway keep up the good work! Looking forward to the rest of the final chronicle books.

Regards,
Kirk
I wouldn't use the ticket. I'd give it to someone else. I've already had--or am having--the "E-ticket ride". If you doubt me, remember that *language* is essential to my experience of the story, and of everything that the story contains.

I don't think that LF is "evil just for the sake of being evil." I think that (in his case, anyway) what we choose to call "evil" is driven by rage at being imprisoned, contempt for his prison, and despair at the possibility that he might not escape. The poor guy is probably tortured by the sheer *unfairness* of his plight. What did he do to deserve this? After all, it is his nature to be the Creator's opposite and/or antagonist.

But if you ask him why he does what he does, you probably won't get a straight answer. He'll be too busy sneering at you. <rueful smile>

(01/23/2007)

Hesham:  Hello Mr Donaldson,

Would like to say that all the Covenant Books have influnenced my way of seeing the world greatly. You certainly have a deep understanding of the human mind and the concept of despair and how a being reacts to it. My question is " does your writing put forward the concept that everything in life is shades of grey rather then black or white"? And because of this does it allows you to delve into the depths of the characters and situations you create?

Cheers
Hesham
Well, life is nothing if not ambiguous. Everything can be seen as shades of grey. On the other hand, life is always "in the eye of the beholder." In fact, one could argue that it is *exclusively* in the eye of the beholder.

But to try to answer your question more directly: I don't think in terms of "shades of grey" when I write. In most cases, but especially when I'm working on "Covenant," I think about contradictions and paradoxes. (Just one obvious example: the "failure" of the quest for the One Tree in "The One Tree" is both a defeat *and* a victory. Brinn's fall enables him to bring down the Guardian. The fact that Covenant and/or Linden can't get a branch of the One Tree opens the door for a different kind of victory later.) For me (and I'm *only* speaking for myself here), this way of looking at my characters and situations is more useful than seeing shades of grey.

(01/24/2007)

drew:  Hello Mister Donaldson, I'd like to ask you a question about Libraries.

How do you, as an author, feel about Libraries?
Couldn't they be concidered an early version of an MP3 file sharring website?

What I mean is this: Runes of the Earth is now available at most libraries...and although that consists of a lot of sales, how many people are going to read each book? I'd say a couple of dozen would be a safe bet-that's a couple of a dozen sales that didn't happen.

Now I realize that as an author, your only goal isn't books sales, and it must be pleasing at least to know that more people have read your books than copies that are sold...I just wanted your oppinion on this. (Shold I feel guilty the next time I read the GAP series from my local library?)
On a personal, idiosycratic, and even quixotic level, I've never actually liked libraries. But I approve of them wholeheartedly. Anything that promotes reading in general, and the reading of my books in particular, I consider good. Libraries make books available to people who--for a whole host of perfectly good reasons--either wouldn't or couldn't read them otherwise.

(01/24/2007)

Ed:  Mr. Donaldson,
I was persusing the information available about you and your works on Wikipedia (which, by their information, we share the same birthday - May 13). One of the links there is to a page of manuscripts held by Kent State. There is an interesting picture on the page of information about the Illearth War (an illustration for the French edition: http://speccoll.library.kent.edu/literature/prose/donaldson/donald3.html).
I understand you generally have little control over how translations and illustrations are handled, but could you provide any insight as to how that picture relates to the story of The Illearth War?

Pondering,
Ed from Illinois
I can't explain the relationship because there isn't one. The French (in this case, the publisher J'ai Lu) can be pretty high-handed. They wanted a "commercial" cover; they didn't want to spend any money; they already owned the French rights to some Boris Vallejo art; so they just slapped a babe in a chain bikini on more than one of my books. J'ai Lu is the same publisher who published "The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever" as "The Chronicles of Thomas the Incredulous," and who translated "Saltheart Foamfollower" as "Briny the Pirate". Later Presses de la Cite whacked "Mordant's Need" into a trilogy for no apparent reason. Now many French readers think I'm an idiot. <sigh>

I don't have "little control" over any of this. I have none.

(01/24/2007)

Dangerous Dave from Denver:  I've always been intrigued regarding your service as a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War. Why go through the hassle of obtaining a conscientious objector deferment, when you could have claimed your student status?

Dave
Back in those days, "student status" was only good through college, although it was sometimes (often?) extended through graduate school. But it was only a *deferment*, not an exemption. The draft could always get you later. And then there were the moral issues....

On the down side, the Selective Service only, well, selected a portion (a third? a quarter? I forget) of non-objectors; but they drafted 100% of the young men who had been granted C.O. status (although "officially" no one ever admitted that this was true). In effect, being drafted was punishment for objecting to the war. Hence my two years in a bottom-of-the-barrel job in a public hospital.

Curiously, working in a hospital was only one of the "approved" jobs for a C.O.. Another was--I swear I'm not making this up--working in a dairy. God knows why.

(01/25/2007)

Vincent:  Hello again sir. Thank you for taking the time to read my little bit of work and respond to me.

It's not enough to be a good writer anymore. You are a great writer, yet your sales don't reflect the magnitude of your ability, is that due to your agent, or publisher do you think? Or is it more of an issue of your work being a bit darker and laced with more mature issues and vocabulary than a Harry Potter, or Eragon? Not to dispairage either of those books or writers, or any others for that matter, but do you think you'd sell more if you geared your novels towards the mid-teen group? I'd hate to see you do such a thing because I enjoy your work as it is, but I also hate seeing your newest hardcover for sale at my local grocery store in the bargain bin. It smacks of disrespect to me, but you can rest assured my friend that I bought all six copies and gave them as christmas gifts to my closest...'literate' friends.
These are mysteries. If any publisher (or even agent, or publicist) knew what makes a book sell (or not), every book published would be a bestseller--and nothing else would ever see print. Writers like, say, just picking an example at random, me--or Patricia McKillip--or Tim Powers--or Steven Erikson--would be entirely screwed. *Fortunately* the reasons why one book takes off and another doesn’t defy explication. Thus there’s hope. If I were capable of aiming my work at, say, a younger audience, the results might well be disastrous in every conceivable way.

One reason, I think, that commercial success can’t be predicted (and if you doubt me, just look at who J. K. Rowling’s US publisher is: a sure sign that no one expected her extraordinary success) is a factor I choose to call the “zeitgeist”: loosely translated, the spirit of the times. Sometimes *when* a book is published determines its success. A good example is Segal’s “Love Story,” a load of unrelieved tripe which nevertheless became a MONSTER bestseller in the early ‘70s--and which has now completely vanished from the public consciousness (taking its author with it). 50 years from now, only the most dessicated of literary historians will even know that “Love Story” was ever published. Why? Because “Love Story” just happened to catch the zeitgeist at exactly the right moment. Then the zeitgeist moved on, and “Love Story” immediately sank into its proper oblivion.

The way I see it, the success of the “Covenant” books in the early ‘80s had little or nothing to do with their merits (real or imagined). After all, no one in his/her right mind could have predicted that long, dark books about leprosy and despair would become world-wide bestsellers. No, I believe that the first six books just happened to catch the zeitgeist. Now the zeitgeist has moved on. The good news is that I’m still here (unlike Segal), writing books and selling them.

Ah, the “bargain bin.” What publishers call “remainders”. Always a sad thing for the author, but probably inevitable considering how modern publishing works. In order to have enough stock to meet an unpredictable demand, publishers pretty much have to make too many copies. Then the book comes out in some version of paperback, the hardcover market immediately dries up, and the publisher is stuck with X amount of extra stock. Eventually the books are dumped into the bargain bins as remainders.

(01/25/2007)

Darrin Cole:  Hey Mr D,
I noticed in an earlier answer you spoke about the danger of Covenant becoming a static carrier, though in my opinion several thousand years as the arch of time could go either way, causing extreme change or unbelievable static in Covenant.
My question is their danger of Linden also becoming static and might their be further perspective changes. I would be quite happy with Linden as the central character for the rest of the chronicles, she certainly has the depth, still it could be interesting (and I am hoping your going their)to see what you do with Jeremiah.
All the Best
Mr C
My fears that Covenant might become static referred to “The Second Chronicles.” As you say, much has changed for him since then. If you consider “death” a change. <grin> As for Linden, her circumstances are in an acute state of flux. It’s difficult to become a static character when nothing in your life remains constant.

(01/25/2007)

John:  Mr. Donaldson,

It has been stated numerous times in the G.I., by you and some of the questions you have posted, that "power corrupts" and "absolute power corrupts absolutely." Many people, including most I know in my personal life, believe this to an incontestable truth. I must say that I disagree, and upon even a casual read of you major works (not to include your short stories), I would argue that your works agree with me.

To begin I would simply point out two real-life examples of people who held considerable power. Abraham Lincoln and Adolf Hitler. I use these two figures because they are almost universally known, and both held power in times of great turmoil. Even a brief study of the lives of these two men would reveal one indisputable fact: their character was set long before either achieved power. You would be hard pressed to find any historian who would argue that Lincoln was not a ‘good’ man before he achieve power, just as no one would argue that Hitler was not ‘corrupt’ before he held power. Yet, it seems the more power Lincoln gained (suspending habeas corpus, etc.) the more benevolent, he became; the more power Hitler grabbed the more vile/corrupt he became. I would argue power amplifies/magnifies personality, and I would argue your major works support this idea.

Take Covenant. Upon his arrival to the Land he commits an act of rape, then throughout that book and the next he allows atrocities to occur. Is he corrupt? I do not know. But I do know that he *denies* he has any power. Only in TPTP does Covenant accepts he has any power (or he simply wants to end it), and when he accepts that he realizes he must act for the ‘good’ even if he is unsuccessful. In the Second Chronicles there is never any doubt in Covenant’s mind that he must fight Foul. Accepting/gaining power seemed to have the opposite affect on Covenant that ‘corrupting’ him. And it should be noted just how much power Covenant has.

Brew. He has power of a sort; he brandishes his gun often enough. And though he is a human plagued by mistakes, his moral compass never seemed to waver. It would be easy to imagine, in the world that Brew lives, someone of his disrepute could have easily found another form of living (perhaps with el’ Senior) when the world turned its back on him. But I do not recall a moment in any of the Man Who books where he questions his values or on what “side” he is on. If people have never read the Man Who books, a simple way to phrase it would be to say, “if you do Bad, and cross Brew, hide your ass”.

All of your books are written this way: Mordant’s Need, The Gap. I would argue, as stated above, power does not corrupt, it magnifies. When one of your main characters obtains any amount of power, it seems to set them on the right path, eventually. The goodness we know is in them, before it has been stomped on by tragedy (in a Donaldson book, imagine that!) is drawn out. They may not be wise in the use of their power, but there should be no doubt that they use their power not to intentionally serve corruption, but good. If you really believe power corrupts, your works do not show it. And I, for one, and happy about that.


I’ve left your argument intact, although I don’t intend to, well, argue with you. That “Power corrupts” is well-documented. (Years ago, there was an interesting study based on a “prison” model in which college student volunteers were randomly assigned to role-play either guards or prisoners. The study had to be stopped because the “guards” quickly became such vicious bullies that they began damaging the “prisoners”. As far as any of the researchers could tell, this was a function of circumstance rather than of personality.) That “Absolute power corrupts absolutely” is a bit more speculative (first we have to define “absolute power”), but it still has evidence to support it.

However. To say that “Power corrupts” is not to say that “Power always corrupts everyone.” To say that “Absolute power corrupts absolutely” is not to say that “Absolute power inevitably corrupts everyone absolutely, with no exceptions.” (Concerning the study I just mentioned, one could argue that the kind of people who would refrain from abusing power would not have volunteered to be in the study at all.) Meanwhile, I can’t resist observing that my protagonists are virtually always underdogs: they’re up against opponents with more power than they have.

(01/25/2007)

Perry Bell:  Hello Stephen,
Thanks for taking the time to address us readers :)
The first question is one that you yourself had asked in LFB and TIW but we never seen an answer to. Does the nature of the summons have anything to do with the person being summoned? TC was originally summoned by Drool at LF's behest. Now Linden was summoned by (if I get this right) LF directly.
The second question is more detailed so I apologize. How much help, if any, can TC be to Linden? I mean, he's dead, so is he not bound by the same laws Mhoram, Elena, Foamfollower, and Bannor were? When TC came back to the land and met his dead in Andelain, they could only give him cryptic answers at best, never a straight answer, so even though he IS the wild magic, is he bound by the same laws as his freinds were?
Thanks again for everything!
Respectfully,
Perry Bell
I think one could argue that there is a relationship between the emotional state of the person summoned and the means by which the summoning is performed. But (if I were the one making the argument <grin>) I wouldn’t want to be too literal about it. Symbolic actions need (interpretive) room to maneuver.

Linden was summoned by LF directly? In “The Runes of the Earth”? I don’t think so. He made that mistake once already: he isn’t likely to make it again.

If the author has any intention whatsoever of playing fair with his readers, then Yes, Covenant in death will be bound by restrictions comparable to those which limited his friends in “The Second Chronicles”. Not necessarily the *same* restrictions, mind you: at the end of WGW, Covenant’s spirit became part of the Arch of Time, so naturally the rules governing him are somewhat different than for the more “ordinary” Dead. But still: there can’t be anything simple about any of this.

Which is really all I can say on the subject without drifting into “spoiler” territory.

(01/29/2007)

Alan:  Hello,
You have said that you developed the idea for this last set of books many years ago. I fail to see how this, the Last chronicles of TC can be justified. All ended well in the Land at the end of White Gold Weilder; Lord Foul was totally defeated by TC, Linden restored the Land. The only place where Lord Foul could have survived is the Sunbane but that too was gone, healed by Linden and then Sunder and Hollian.

At the end of the First Chronicles yes you can see how Lord Foul survived, the Staff of Law was destroyed, but, and I have read the books many times, there is nowhere for Lord Foul to hide at the end of WGW.

I think ROTE is a good book and I will get the others when they come out but I have my doubts as to them being a solid part of the original 6 books.

regards

Alan
Hmm. I have a couple of different reactions. One is: if you could see (already) how “The Last Chronicles” can be justified, why would I need to write the story at all? Surely my *real* justification is that I can see something I haven’t revealed to you? But my other reaction is very different. I don’t think of LF as a force which *can* be “totally defeated”. I think of him as an eternal and necessary being comparable to (if opposite than) the Creator. And, in my view, any “ultimate” solution to the problem of evil--if such a thing can be imagined--would require something more profound than Covenant and Linden accomplished at the end of “White Gold Wielder”.

In any event, it’s way too soon for any of us to know whether “The Last Chronicles” will succeed at being “a solid part of the original 6 books.”

(01/29/2007)

John-Michael Perkins:  Mr. Donaldson,
I recently bought a copy of the Runes of the Earth in a local Wal-Mart. I paid for it, took it home, and soon discovered, much to my excitemnt, that it had been autographed. I was just wondering how many of these you autographed, because I went back the next day and none of the other copies were autographed.

Thanks!
Before “The Runes of the Earth” was published, I pre-autographed 7500 copies to be distributed in parts of the US where I was not going to visit on my various book tours. (I also signed 1000 for my UK publisher, but those were for a special “collector’s” edition.) By design, that distribution was pretty random, so finding one but not more is no surprise.

(01/29/2007)