I'm not willing to answer your question about samadhi Sheol. That's "spoiler" territory, and I hate revealing what I'm going to do--or not do. Are sf/f writers sane? Probably not--although I'm inclined to think that no one worth knowing is entirely sane. I'm certainly not. <rueful smile> But are sf/f writers saner than mainstream writers? In my (admittedly limited) experience, yes. The mainstream writers I've met are cynical, judgmental people--a state which they consider sane, but which I do not. (In fact, they appear to feel contempt for anyone who *isn't* cynical and judgmental.) Of course, there are any number of cynical, judgmental writers in sf/f. But they're a distinct minority among the 50-70 genre writers I've met. You want to move to *India*? My instinctive reaction is, you really are insane. Of course, I'm biased, certifiably so. But I have at least one rational reason for my bias: I *still* suffer from illnesses which I acquired in India. On a more emotional basis, I do know one or two people who had happy (but *brief*) visits to India. But everyone I know who spent significant amounts of time there has paid a high price for doing so. As it happens (he admitted reluctantly), they're all missionary kids, so they had rather abusive childhoods--and might have had similar experiences virtually anywhere. Quite apart from that, however, there's the sheer horror of the poverty and degradation in which the vast majority of Indians live. There's nothing like it in the US or Europe, and I don't see how anyone with a heart can look at it without being wounded by the experience. And I won't even mention the ubiquitous, systemic corruption.... Just my opinion. But I wouldn't advise a visit unless you have a cast-iron immune system; and I wouldn't suggest a prolonged stay unless you like surrounding yourself with people who are immeasurably worse off than you are. (*Damn.* I'd better check my blood-pressure.) (03/01/2007)

Is a writer's "creativity...significantly and uniquely embellished in the eye of the beholder"? I think so. After all, the reader's mind creates--or re-creates--the story and everything in it out of nothing more than black squiggles on pieces of paper. But does my creation become as much yours as it is mine? That depends on what we're specifically talking about. On the one hand, I did put a whole more work into those books than you did. I chose every one of those black squiggles. And I get paid for doing so--by you. On the other, your experience of reading those books is entirely and exclusively your own: that experience exists solely in your own thoughts and imagination--and *you* put it there, *I* didn't. In that sense, what you read belongs to you alone. The best I can hope for is that your experience bears some resemblance to mine. (03/01/2007)

In fact, that idea *has* occurred to me. But I have no intention of doing it myself--or of suggesting it to anyone else. What a chore! Simply contemplating it makes me want to hide under a rock. Of course, I have as much ego as anyone else. If I ever gained enough literary stature to justify editing and publishing the GI, I'm sure I would feel gratified. But I wouldn't tackle the project myself. Someone else would have to take it on--of their own free will. And because I don't trust my ego, I would probably do everything in my power to distance myself from the project. (03/01/2007)

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Actually, the producers who once owned the "Covenant" rights tried the TV idea before they decided not to renew their option. (03/01/2007)

Gosh! I hope you can't picture *too* much.... (03/01/2007)

It's all about "margin" vs cost of manufacture. Roughly speaking, the bookstore or -outlet buys the book from the publisher at 50% of the cover price. That's the margin. So the margin on a $26.95 hardcover is more than the margin on a $16 trade paperback, which is in turn more than the margin on, say, a $7.95 mass market paperback. So--duh--hardcover sales bring in a lot more money than an equal number of MMPB sales (ergo the publisher has to sell a *lot* more MMPBs), and TPBs fall somewhere in the middle. But. Hardcover books are very expensive to manufacture, so they really suck up the publisher's margin. Once a hardcover has been done, however, a TPB is actually cheaper to produce than a MMPB. Only the cover and binding change for a TPB, but the book has to be completely re-set for a MMPB, with fewer lines per page and therefore significantly more pages. So the publisher has to sell a *whole* lot more MMPBs in order to turn a profit. And then there's the unexplained fact that MMPBs in general just don't sell as well as they once did--at least in the US--while TPBs sell better than they once did. At any rate, that's true in sf/f. (Don't ask me why: I haven't a clue.) As a result, publishers tend to release a TPB as soon as they're sure they won't make any more money from the hardcover; but they milk the TPB for all it's worth before they consider releasing a MMPB. In view of the fact that "Runes" is now being remaindered on Amazon.com, my US publishers may make a decision about a MMPB fairly soon. (03/02/2007)

1) "Elohim" is a real word with Biblical roots. But I've never heard it used in the way you describe. I certainly didn't know there is (or was) a cult of space-based-Elohim worshippers out there. 2) I've read a couple of Wilbur Smith books, but I didn't enjoy them enough to read more. I haven't read "Warlock". (03/03/2007)

The short answer is, No. As a writer as well as a person, I had to travel a long way to get to "Lord Foul's Bane". When I started college, I was the kid in English lit classes whose papers were read aloud as examples of bad writing. And outside of class, I was blessed with readers who told me (kindly, and often in sorrow) just how bad my writing/storytelling was. If I hadn't learned almost immediately that I needed to get my ego out of the picture, I would have been too crushed to continue--and I certainly wouldn't have learned the lessons that my teachers and readers were trying to communicate. Throughout my life, setting my ego aside has been crucial to whatever progress I've made. (I should probably insert an apt quote from Foamfollower here, but I don't have the energy to look it up. <sigh>) (03/03/2007)

I'm posting this because it may be of general interest. Personally, I don't enjoy audio books. And I'm not especially keen on being compared to Terry Brooks. <sigh> But I had never heard of the "Modern Scholars" series until you mentioned it. I know nothing about "Professor Drout," and I certainly wasn't involved with his work in any way. (03/06/2007)

First, I think we can safely assume that the Lords/Warward/etc. made as much use as possible of wood that had already died naturally. Second, well, there are plenty of indications that the Lords et al *did* work with living wood (Gildenlode for the Giants leaps to mind, and all those staffs had to come from somewhere). In such cases, we can assume that they took individual branches/boughs rather than whole trees, that they were careful to preserve the health of the trees, and that they worked both sadly and respectfully. (03/06/2007)

Lester isn't here, so we can't ask him. But I suspect that you're right. After all, what other interpretations *are* there? (03/06/2007)

According to the producers who once held an option on "Covenant," the big stumbling block was not the rape of Lena: it was the ring. Any film or tv production based on "Covenant" would automatically be dismissed as a LOTR rip-off. So far, no one has ever expressed an interest in obtaining an option on "Mordant's Need." (03/06/2007)

Drugs. That's how I do it. Of course, in my case the drugs are antibiotics, not mind-altering substances. <grin> But still: it passes the time. Or you could just read other books. There are a lot of good ones out there, even if you limit yourself to contemporary fantasy. (03/06/2007)

Listen, I'm serious: you *really* need to get a life. <grin> Meanwhile, this is the ol' apples-and-oranges problem. First, the Elohim who was bound into the Colossus wasn't Appointed: her binding was the will of the forest(s), not of her people. I'm not prepared to commit myself about her; but I'm inclined to think that she may have been able to slip free when the "will of wood" became too weak to hold her. Second, Kastenessen. If I had been able to foresee (way back in the early '80s) this bit of confusion, I might have omitted the word "name" from "reaving him of name and choice and time". I've always intended that he would retain himself: he was "bound" in the sense of "being tied down" (magically, of course), not in the sense of "being transformed into something else." (Don't forget that his Appointment was in part a punishment. What good is punishment if he isn't somehow aware of being punished?) Third, Findail. Now *he* was transformed. Sure, his essence, the substance of who he was, remains alive in the Staff of Law. But his melding with Vain by wild magic altered him so profoundly that concepts like "sentience" and "identity" no longer have any meaning. I don't doubt that the Staff could be destroyed, but doing so would not restore Findail to his former self. Instead his essence would probably be absorbed by Earthpower in general. Which may have been the fate of the Elohim who was bound in the Colossus; but as I say, I'm not prepared to commit myself. (03/07/2007)

I've already spent enough time discussing bad language (obscenity and profanity). I won't repeat myself here. But "what responsibility do you believe rests on authors generally and on you specifically to balance your need to create against the lasting effects of your prosaic choices in the imagination of readers?" In short, none. Reading is a choice which I do not impose on anyone. And being affected by what is read is also a choice which I do not impose on anyone. No, my responsibility is to what I call my "artistic integrity": if (and only if) I don't tell the truth about my imagination, my story-making impulse, and my characters, I've failed in my responsibilities. In this endeavor, I'm guided by what is appropriate to the specific story I'm telling, not by any desire to make my story either palatable or offensive to my readers, whoever they may turn out to be. Meanwhile: "I believe that familiarity with the obscene mars our other life choices for purity." Interesting. So you consider uninformed choices to be somehow morally superior to informed choices? I disagree. In my opinion--and this is JUST my opinion--uninformed "life choices for purity" are pretty much meaningless. A choice *for* "purity" only has substance when the person making the choice is well aware the s/he could have chosen something else. Let me give you a comparatively trivial example of what I mean. In high school, I refused to apply to any college except the one my parents had attended. I refused to visit--or even think about--any other colleges. In other words, I made a completely uninformed choice. As it happens, my choice worked out very well for me. But it wasn't a "moral" choice: it was all about fear. I didn't make that choice because I believed in my parents and their heritage (or their convictions and values): I made it because I was terrified of knowing what my options actually were. I didn't *want* options: I wanted to think that I actually *had* no choice. Because I was so scared, I was desperate to avoid the responsibility of making a real choice. Since then, I've come to believe that "moral" choices involve facing my fears (e.g. my fear that readers will reject what I write) rather than avoiding them. Informed choices are almost always scarier than uninformed ones; but it is in making informed choices that real responsibility (and honesty, and--yes--purity) lies. As I say, that's just my opinion. (03/07/2007)

As I see it, Nick was never cabable of love: he was too entirely narcissistic to value anyone or anything other than himself. Where the story leaves Angus, I doubt that he is capable of love (yet); but Morn has penetrated his defenses to the extent that he is now able to value, fight for, and even respect another person: for him, a huge step toward real humanity. In contrast, I think that Morn *is* capable of love--but I doubt that she trusts anyone (except Davies) enough to actually love him. Certainly she'll never love anyone who reminds her of Nick or Angus. Of course, all three of them can be seen as case studies in narcissism. (Consider the way that Morn "uses" Nick in the first part of "Forbidden Knowledge".) As in real life, some narcissists are unreachable, while others are capable of change and growth. But I don't think of my characters that way--except, of course, in (distant) retrospect. (03/13/2007)

Obviously you've never tasted my cooking. (03/13/2007)

There are no *right* ways to write stories--or *wrong* ways, either. There is only the specific way that works for the specific writer. I know a much-respected writer who writes the last scene of a story first, then writes further scenes or situations as they appeal to her, and finally creates the "connective tissue" that holds everything together. I know other writers (again, much-respected) who have no clear story ideas at all: they simply write a sentence to see where it leads, and eventually they discover their story. I'm told (I can't vouch for the accuracy of this) that Jack Vance started with a one page outline or summary of his story, which he then fleshed in to perhaps four pages, then to possibly twelve pages; and he continued in that fashion, simply fleshing in his outline, until he had a complete story (short story, novel, whatever). I've even heard of a writer who sat at his typewriter and transcribed stories as his wife dictated them to him--telepathically. Well, any of these approaches would make me plumber--if it didn't kill me first. But that's not the point. The point is that you gotta figure out what works for *you*--and you're the only one who can do that. I found my approach partly by instinct, partly by trial-and-error (I did a *lot* of experimenting back in what I call my "journeyman" years). I assume that's normal. (03/15/2007)

Did I not say that I'm contractually bound to supply a title that my editors like? Your criticisms of "Against All Things Ending" are identical to their criticisms of "Should Pass Utterly". What can I do except shrug? For the record, my editors are excited about the new title, as are some readers who have posted messages for the Gradual Interview. (03/15/2007)

To my knowledge, no one (else) has ever compared my work to Faulkner's. But I'm not surprised by your reaction. I was definitely influenced by his books, the "Snopes" trilogy in particular--especially while I was writing the first "Chronicles". (Joseph Conrad should be fairly obvious as well. The Henry James influence may be a bit more obscure. <grin>) (03/15/2007)

Apart from alcohol, no. But I've been alcohol-free for over a decade now. And I've never EVER written "under the influence". Nor have I ever come up with any good ideas that way. The only thing in my life that I've consistently kept "clean" is my writing. (03/15/2007)

1) In the "cosmology" of the Land, the Despiser can be considered an eternal being--sort of the "evil twin" of the Creator (where Despite rather than destruction is the necessary opposite of creation). In at least one of the "creation myths" of the Land, the Despiser was busy planting "banes" in the Earth at the moment when the Creator sealed the Arch of Time; so Lord Foul was (inadvertently?) imprisoned. Thus being trapped could be considered the source of the Despiser's despair. However, the active malice of the banes functions--in a manner of speaking--independently of LF. Those banes (via leakage from the roots of Mount Thunder into the Great Swamp and Sarangrave Flat) provided the energy, the magic, that gave life to the Ravers (I mean a form of "spiritual" life separate from the careless destructiveness of humankind: think of the emotions and actions of people as the raw materials, and the banes' outflow as the kindling spark). In short, you'll have to look pretty hard to find "coincidence" in any of this. 2) Of course I love mountains. I actually feel a more, well, engaged love for the sea. The sea seems to have more moods, and <ahem> heights sometimes scare me. But I'm glad every day that I live within sight of mountains. (03/21/2007)

From my perspective, the two needs you mention were the same. In a sense, everything in the Land is an "anti-Covenant". I needed a more pertinent foil or antithesis, one that shared Covenant's inherent assumptions about what constitutes "reality". I could only get such a character from Covenant's world. (In addition, I wanted to undermine Covenant's confidence in his Unbelief--without shattering it completely. At that point in the story, Covenant himself might have shattered if he hadn't been able to "rationalize" Troy's presence as part of his own dream/delusion. But if I hadn't undermined his confidence, he would have been less inclined to change.) (03/21/2007)

And speaking of opinions.... I, too, thought that "Should Pass Utterly" had gravitas. Until someone told me that it probably referred to a bowel movement. (Picture me with a grimace pretending it's a grin.) (03/28/2007)

Thanks. I think I understand your point better now. But I get the feeling (perhaps unwarrented) that there's something about my position you may not have considered. As a writer, I have no way of knowing what's going to "stick" with any given reader. In fact, I have no way of knowing if *anything* is going to stick. Apart from the feedback of my personal readers--and my editors--I have nothing to guide me except my own reactions, my artistic ethic, and my sense of what is *fitting* for a particular story ("decorum" in this context is actually a sub-set of artistic ethic). Unless I want to puree my work until it can offend (or interest) no one, I have no real choice except to trust my, well, for convenience let's call it my "conscience". And conscience, I need hardly point out, is neither uniform nor universal. If my personal conscience carried any weight with humankind in general, no one would consider terrorism a valid response to the inequities of life. I wish I had a more satisfying response for you; but I'm afraid that I'll simply have to continue trusting my own judgment. (03/28/2007)

You're off to a great start! Now all you need is 297 more pages. And pictures. <grin> After all, the food has to *look* good as well. (03/28/2007)