There's no question about it. In England, I don't just reach a higher proportion of readers, I reach a higher total number of readers. That's significant, considering that England has roughly 1/5 as many people as the US. (09/04/2007)

To answer your last question first: yes, you should press on with your own ideas regardless of what you're reading. If reading gets your creative juices flowing, *use* that. You can always revise later if you feel that what you've written has been unduly influenced by what you've read. Yes, I do read books for pleasure (and inspiration, and reassurance, and education) while I'm writing. When I was a "young" writer (the first "Covenant" trilogy), I stayed away from reading in the genre I was writing--but not because I was afraid of being influenced by what I read. (Being influenced by what I read is one of the many ways in which I try to improve my skills as a writer.) No, I was afraid of feeling depressed (if what I read in fantasy was bad) or intimidated (if what I read in fantasy was good). During those years, I read widely in many other forms, including sf (and Renaissance poetry), but I avoided fantasy. But then I got over it. Writing my first books helped me to internalize the knowledge that creativity is not a competition. Therefore (in my case) it doesn't matter what other writers have done: it only matters what I do. (Feel free to substitute your name for mine whenever you're ready. <grin>) And it doesn't matter whether I milk, say, Tolkien and Peake for all they're worth, as long as what I have when I'm done is honest Donaldson rather than ersatz Tolkien or Peake. Does this address your concerns? (09/05/2007)

(I deleted your second question, not because I'm unwilling to answer it, but because it veers into spoiler territory. It simplifies my life if you--and other readers--post spoiler and non-spoiler questions separately.) I'm not sure I can give you a satisfactory answer about the passivity of the Unhomed when they are confronted with the knowledge that they are too weak to resist possession by Ravers. My problem is that the explanation is SO obvious to me, SO fundamental to my perception of the Giants--and perhaps also to my perception of myself--that I don't know how to put it into words. But let me try this approach: I've had dreams in which I appeared--to myself--as the most terrifying kind of homicidal maniac. Well, the fact that these were only dreams has served as a motivator: I've spent decades working hard to NOT become that person. But if that version of myself ever took on flesh and became real.... I do honestly believe that I would rather be dead. The Unhomed decided that they would rather be dead than risk becoming the playthings or embodiments of Ravers. That's a rather extreme moral judgment, I admit. But I can totally relate to it. And after all, pretty much everything in the "Covenant" books is extreme. (09/05/2007)

As I've said on many occasions, I have no control over such things. And sadly, my books don't sell well enough to justify the expense to my publishers. I believe that the "Covenant" books *are* available through the Library of Congress Books On Tape program. But they aren't for sale, and I have no idea how you would get your hands on them. (09/05/2007)

Much of your analysis makes sense to me. Certainly your point about "*vicarious* revenge against the Creator" does. But I see a couple of issues. First, the Despiser is an explicitly archetypal character. Despite is his nature. For such a character to enjoy and even feed off of the pain of other beings is a far cry from experiencing anything which might (even remotely) be called love. If he loved anything (except himself), he wouldn't be the Despiser anymore. And I suspect that even his self-love looks suspiciously like contempt. Second, the hunger that drives Holt Fasner isn't static. It's like a black hole: it can't be satisfied--just as Despite can't be satisfied. Put Fasner in Lord Foul's place, and it won't be long before he realizes that he wants MORE. Seen from that perspective, Fasner is simply a human version of "the Despiser" archetype. (09/05/2007)

In my limited and (admittedly) self-defined experience, when writers get together as individuals (rather than as public figures), they don't talk about how or even why they write. Paradoxically, that's too private for private conversation. Instead they talk about Life in a way that may include reading but virtually never includes writing. In the grand total of maybe 10 minutes that I've spent with Stephen King, the kinds of subjects that he discussed in "On Writing" never came up. As "public figures," however--in books, for example, or on panel discussions--writers talk about writing all the time. From such occasions, I've gleaned that writers (and artists) in general seem to require some form of self-devised isolation. They need to close out the external world somehow. And the "hows" almost always involve the use or manipulation of sound: as an aural barrier against distraction, perhaps, or as an aid to concentration/self-hypnosis. But other than that, the only "universal truths" I've gleaned are a) if you don't sit down and actually write, you aren't writing (duh), and b) every writer is unique (who'da thunk it?). Pick a subject (where do you get your ideas? or, how do you develop them? or some such), and every writer on the panel reveals an approach that wouldn't work for anyone else. (09/05/2007)

Did the Creator trap Lord Foul deliberately? As I recall, the available "creation myths" are ambiguous or conflicting on that point. But please keep in mind that Lord Foul is a thinking, feeling, and acting being, not a rock. <grin> It seems pointless to hold a rock responsible for whatever it is--or isn't. But beings that think and choose are always responsible for their own actions, regardless of how good their excuses are, or of how legitimate their complaints may be. You're right in observing that "confronting the consequences of our actions" is one of the major themes of "The Chronicles" as a whole. But in view of the fact that significant portions of TIW and TPTP involve rubbing Covenant's nose in the consequences of what he did to Lena--and that the outcome (for Covenant) is a complete commitment to saving the Land--I think I'm justified in claiming that Covenant has indeed confronted the consequences of the action we're talking about. Has the Creator confronted the consequences of his actions? Think of it this way (just an analogy, so don't take it too literally): the Creator is like a parent who both loves and respects his child. With the best will in the world, no parent can avoid causing pain and even damage to the child. Nor can the parent see inside the child well enough to recognize *all* the pain and damage that arrives from other sources. The parent may well identify much of that pain and damage, and respond to it lovingly. The parent may do everything in his/her power to confront the consequences of his/her actions. But deep inside, the child remains invisible to the parent (as we all are to each other). The parent simply can't know everything there is to know about the consequences of his/her actions--and is pretty much fighting blind when it comes to the consequences for the child of other people's actions. The result? The best parents in the world raise children who have been damaged, and who are intimately familiar with pain. At a certain point, the parent has no choice except to just let the child grow up (i.e. cope with the child's own pain/damage)--if the child can. And at that point, the whole notion of "confronting the consequences" ceases to have much meaning. Well, obviously this analogy carries a lot of weight for me. But leaving that aside, I think it suggests a valid point about the Creator's relationship with his creation (including all the consequences of everyone's actions). (09/07/2007)

Gee, doesn't the fact that it's a *yellow* gold ring on the covers count? <rueful smile> As I think I've said before, I believe that I need the ring more than Tolkien did. I certainly have the right to use a ring if I want. And I like to think that my work has its own stature. But none of that has anything to do with the realities of the marketplace. One of those realities is: many times many more people have seen the LOTR movies than have ever read Tolkien's books--or mine. So put yourself in the place of a person who has seen and loved the movies, who knows nothing about Tolkien or Donaldson, and who happens to be browsing in a bookstore. What message do the DEL REY/Ballantine covers convey to that person? I think the message is, "If you liked LOTR, and you don't have anything better to do, here's a pale imitation to help pass the time." I think those covers are cheap--and deliberately misleading. In saying that, I'm not denying myself whatever stature I may deserve: I'm criticizing DEL REY/Ballantine. (09/07/2007)

Others know more about this than I do. It is my unconfirmed impression that publishers tend to produce between 500 and 1000 ARCs for review and other promotional purposes. But I could easily be wrong about those numbers. How they end up on eBay is simple: the people who receive ARCs free (often reviewers, but book buyers and distributers, and sometimes even bookstore managers, can get copies) want to make money without having to work for it; or they give the ARCs to their friends, relatives, acquaintances, who in turn want to make money without having to work for it. In fact, there's a entire business enterprise out there that revolves around obtaining free ARCs and selling them for as much money as possible. This is, obviously, a flagrant distortion of the purpose for which ARCs are intended. But there's probably no cure for the problem. Greed makes cynics of everyone it touches. Still, I remind myself that a comparatively small percentage of all possible ARCs are sold. Most people who get them don't accept them--or seek them out--for personal gain. (09/10/2007)

[message edited to save space] Storytelling serves many purposes, one of which is to confront those aspects of ourselves--or of humanity in general--that disturb or frighten or confound us. Certainly one of my many reasons for writing is to explore my aspirations toward who I want to be, and to face my fear of who I do not want to be. In addition, it seems inescapable that "exaggeration"--viewing complex themes and emotions in their most extreme forms--is a fundamental and inherent part of how my imagination works. One of Stephen King's answers to the question, Why do you write about such horrible things? is, What makes you think I have a choice? That response makes sense to me. I couldn't write the kind of subtle and oblique "drawing-room morality tales" that, say, Henry James handled so well if my life depended on it. As for the notion that "There is no salvation in just being pure and apart": how could it be otherwise? The mere concept of "being pure and apart" seems inhuman to me--not to mention inhumane. (09/12/2007)

You make a valid point, of course: one which I often overlook. I'm the kind of writer who wants his readers to be able to immerse themselves in the story. That immersion becomes more difficult to achieve when the usage of certain words is inadvertently jarring. (*Deliberate* jarring is an entirely different issue.) (09/12/2007)

There are no current plans to issue--or reissue--any of the "Covenant" books in Spanish. (09/12/2007)

Please! That would be telling. (09/12/2007)

I wish I could give you a satisfactory response, although I'm sure that we'll never see eye-to-eye on these subjects. But keep in mind that people are often formed as well as informed by up-bringing and life experience. I internalized early the idea that "Faith without works is dead." And since pretty much all of the most abusive and even cruel people I've ever known personally are Christians, I drew the obvious conclusion. (To be fair, I should admit that I have also known some truly wonderful human beings who are Christians.) As for standing before the judgment seat of God: I like the idea that C. S. Lewis expressed in the final Narnia book, "The Last Battle". In simple terms, Lewis suggested that anyone who looks into God's eyes and likes what he/she sees goes to Heaven: everyone else stays where they are. That strikes me as a uniquely humane and gentle interpretation of Christian theology. (09/12/2007)

I don't control the distribution of ARCs (also known as bound proofs), so I have no idea how many people have already read "Fatal Revenant". Lots. But yes, I did in fact send an advance copy of the book to Tasmania just for you. <grin> (09/12/2007)

This is a difficult question to answer. You appear to be reading the "Covenant" books on the (possibly mistaken) assumption that you already know what they mean. And you appear to have taken my after-the-fact comments about the "reality" of the Land out of context. I guess I have four comments. 1) I don't accept your (apparent) assertion that the *importance* of the Land is dependent on its "reality". Throughout our history, we human beings have assigned importance to any number of things that have no demonstrable reality. This, to a significant extent, is what the "Covenant" books are about. 2) All of my comments about the Land's "reality" were intended for discussion by people who have already read the books, not to encourage--or discourage--new readers. Interpreting my intent in "The Chronicles" after reading part of "Lord Foul's Bane" is like deciding what the previous sentence means after reading only the words, "All of my comments." 3) Perception always defines reality. That's a fact of life as well as of fiction. Even if you and I were standing side by side, we would see different worlds. And since Covenant and Linden are the primary "windows" through which we view the Land, the Land's reality is necessarily defined by their perception of it. 4) If you find yourself doubting that the "Covenant" books are worth reading, please stop. We all have different needs and tastes, just as we all have different perceptions. Life is too short to spend it reading books that don't suit you. I promise I won't take it personally. <grin> (09/15/2007)

Serendipity sometimes comes to the rescue when mere human planning and intelligence prove inadequate. I had no idea that "Thomas" meant "twin" until you told me. So "twinship" per se has never been a *conscious* theme in the "Covenant" books. Nevertheless the details to which you refer are obviously legitimate. And it's really a pretty small step from "twinship" to "duality," which in turn is only a small step away from "paradox"--and *now* we're definitely in the realm of conscious themes: themes, by the way, with which I'm far from finished. Keeping that in mind: It's obvious that the first "Chronicles" are heavily concerned with paradox. Consider the paradox/duality/contrast between the "covenants" of Law and Grace. If you think of Law as the rigid rules which govern Covenant's survival as a leper, and Grace as the forgiveness/friendship/acceptance that he is given in the Land, you'll see what I mean. "The Second Chronicles" are more complex, in part because they can be interpreted as a stage in a journey that doesn't culminate until "The Last Chronicles." But even there, Covenant has become both the man who most wants to save the Land and the man who is best able to destroy it. And Linden is both the woman who most needs love (and healing: in this, she is analogous to the Land) and the woman who is most likely to violate those who love her. In this context, I'm inclined to think of characters like Joan and Elena as foils rather twins. It's the inherent paradox of Linden's nature (and of Covenant's) that concerns me. Your last question is more difficult. I'm a person who "reflects on themes" by writing stories, not by considering themes in the abstract, independent of the needs and passions of my particular characters. But one could argue that the simple fact that I write such stories is a reflection of my own essential twinship/paradox. Why would I do this, if I weren't--pardon the cliche--a square peg in a round hole; if I didn't contain within me realities or identities wildly divergent from the ones which I demonstrably occupy? And can't the same (while I'm on the subject) be said of most human beings? Most people may not write and publish stories; but most people do experience profound discrepancies between their inner and outer realities--and they usually cope with those discrepancies by telling themselves stories (whether or not they're conscious of doing so). Hence my conviction that storytelling is one of the most necessary--and humane--human activities. It's how most of us determine the meaning of our lives. (09/18/2007)

FAQ. I'm still waiting for some poor suck, er, I mean brave soul to volunteer for the job of creating a FAQ (contact my webmaster if you actually want to make this your life's work <grin>). I don't have either the time or the energy. God willing, I'm only going to discuss the title for Covenant 9 one more time: then I'm done. Granted that my editors think "Against All Things Ending" is a much better title than "Should Pass Utterly," their reasoning isn't as vacant as you make it sound. They're hoping for something like this: a) a bookstore browser spots an interesting cover; b) the cover lead the browser to an intriguing title; c) so the browser reads the jacket copy, which makes the book sound pretty good; d) but the browser can't fail to notice that this is Book Three of "The Last Chronicles"; e) so the browser locates "Runes" and "Fatal Revenant" on the shelves and buys all three books. Admittedly, bookstore browsing has become less common than it once was--and the Internet facilitates targetted buying more than browsing. Nonetheless it seems to me that my editors' hopes are neither irrational nor implausible. After all, most of the success of the first six "Covenant" book came *outside* the sf/f genre. On the subject of broken Laws, I refer you to a recent answer (sometime during the past month). But no one has ever asked me why Berek made his Staff in the first place. Well, why wouldn't he? How else can he keep his promise (the one he made on Mount Thunder) to the Land? After all, the Land is obviously under attack. The King was inspired by a malign spirit. The King was aided by an unnatural and malific shadow from the east. And meanwhile the forests are being destroyed left and right. Why wouldn't Berek want some kind of appropriate instrument/weapon to help him defend health and beauty? Meanwhile, sorry, but all questions about the Seven Words fall under the heading of, Aw, come on, how can I say anything about that, anything at all, without committing SOME kind of spoiler? Even if I were to say, Sometimes important things get lost, life is like that, deal with it--*that* would tell you something I might not want you to know about the future of the story. On the other hand, I'm gratified that you enjoyed the GAP books. Taken as a whole, I still consider them my best work so far--although I believe that "Fatal Revenant" has raised the bar. (09/18/2007)

[message edited to save space] My knee-jerk reaction is to say--as I've often said before--that I only create what I need. But closer self-examination reveals that this assertion isn't quite true. There *are* a few situations (that I'll never identify for anyone) in which what I've created rests on one or more automatic assumptions that I've taken for granted without looking at them very closely. Put another way: on rare occasions, when someone asks me a specific question about the "Chronicles," I realize that I actually know more on that subject than I wrote down. In those cases, either my subconscious did more groundwork than I realized at the time, or it (my subconscious) has continued to chew on the subject during the intervening years. So why won't I give any examples? Because surprisingly often that little bit of extra information turns out to be very useful for the work I have ahead of me. (09/19/2007)

Actually, I'm surprised that 75% of us read at least one book last year. And I don't actually believe it. Other studies I've seen suggest the opposite: 75% of Americans did NOT read as much as one book last year. If you want to talk two or more books a year, we're down to 5-10% of the adult population. Can this abject situation be corrected? Only if we want to--and I see no sign that we do. The US has always been a profoundly anti-intellectual society (just look around you), and I suspect that the problem is getting worse. Here in NM (picking an example at random <rueful smile>), many of us are *proud* of how little we spend on education. Meanwhile the literate--never mind the open-minded--among us are viewed with increasing suspicion. Just my opinion, of course. (09/19/2007)

No, "meeting fans" is not--in itself--a source of concern. What I dislike most about book tours--apart from the sensory overload of being in a different city and sleeping in a different bed every day (which is a big deal for those of us with ADD)--is that they're so *draining*. I'm actually pretty good at standing in front of an audience and doing Q&A; but being good at it doesn't help me. Nor does being appreciated for doing it. How to explain this? Someone once told me that the difference between an extrovert and an introvert is that an extrovert feeds off the energy of others (applause, laughter, smiles of appreciation, whatever) while an introvert cannot. Well, I'm an introvert (although I work hard to hide the fact). I've had audiences in the palm of my hand, I've had standing ovations, I've had people fall out of their chairs laughing--and there's no emotional *food* in it for me. It doesn't replenish what it takes out of me. No matter how successful I am in public, I always feel exhausted afterward--not to mention vaguely suicidal. (And of course my US book tours usually are *not* successful: that does make the problem worse.) As for etiquette: when I ask for questions, I'm serious. Please. If you have a question, ask it. (Remember, there are no stupid questions. There are only stupid peo--, er, I mean, stupid answers. <grin>) But not while I'm signing books. Slapping down autographs is the most dehumanizing part of the process (not to mention the fact that I'm already exhausted), and I want to get it *over* with. In addition, there are usually other people in line who shouldn't have to wait while, say, you ask a question. As a matter of policy, I'm willing to sign as many books as you want. I'll stay there signing until everyone is satisfied. But if there's a line, I ask people to limit themselves to three at a time (as a courtesy to the rest of the line): then you can go back to the end of the line for the next three, and so on. As for pictures, I endure them (usually with a deer-in-the-headlights gape), but I don't encourage them. (09/19/2007)

No one has ever expressed any interest in the film rights to "Mordant's Need". And I (apparently) can't emphasize enough how little control I have over such things. Neither I nor the people who represent me (like my agent, or his Hollywood sub-agent, or the subsidiary rights departments of my publishers) have the power to "shop" anything "around". That isn't how the system works--at least in my admittedly-limited experience. (09/20/2007)

Bowie has *always* used caesures. I thought everyone knew that. (09/20/2007)

I think you've already identified one explanation. 80% or so of the people who made the first six "Covenant" books so successful don't realize that I'm still alive, writing, and publishing. (You'd be amazed how many people I meet who call themselves my "biggest fans," and yet are completely unaware that I've published 14 other books.) The original "Covenant" audience (if I may call it that) was composed almost entirely of non-genre readers. But since 1983 my publishers have promoted my books exclusively to genre readers. Why? you may well ask. Because--and I say this without any implied criticism--they honestly don't know how to do anything else. And nor do I--apart from the complex issue of packaging. More than once, I've begged my US publishers for non-genre-specific packaging (cover art, etc.). But their experience tells them that fantasy with non-genre-specific packaging and promotion sells *less* well than books packaged and promoted exclusively for genre readers. And I sure don't have any other suggestions. So what *can* my publishers do? I suspect that the US success of the first six "Covenant" books resulted, at least in part, from two, well, let's call them conditions that simply don't exist today. Judy-Lynn del Rey was a promotional genius--and she's been dead for 20 years. And back in those days, the VAST audience of LOTR was almost literally starving for other books to read. Today anyone who is even casually willing to read a fantasy novel has hundreds of books to choose from. And since most of those books are pretty bad, casual willingness evaporates quickly. (09/20/2007)

Was Mhoram's recognition that an *appropriate* commitment of emotion/passion was vital to his ability to wield power important? (Give me enough time, and I'll think of an even more awkward way to phrase that question. <sigh>) Yes, absolutely. The Oath of Peace had the unintended negative effect of making people think that they needed to swallow their emotions. But emotion is crucial to *any* form of real power. (*Appropriate* is the tricky part.) But was Mhoram's recognition the key to unlocking Kevin's Lore? In part, sure. (See above.) However, as any student of the martial arts can tell you, emotion alone isn't enough. (In fact, emotion alone is usually destructive--which is one of at least two reasons why Covenant could not have understood the Wards. Another, of course, is that he could not have *read* them. They were in a language he didn't know.) Even emotion and knowledge together aren't enough. There's also the small matter of rigorous training; endless repetition to get it right. Plus *appropriate* *commitment*, two separate and complex issues, neither of which can be equated with emotion, knowledge, or training. <whew> Considering all that--and the fact that they didn't have a teacher who already understood the subject--I'm not surprised that the new Lords didn't make more progress with Kevin's Lore. I'm impressed that they made as much progress as they did. (09/20/2007)

I've never been able to come up with more than two explanations. 1) The UK is not as fundamentally opposed to the very notion of education (and by extension, literacy) as the US is. 2) UK publishers--and readers--are not as firmly welded (wedded?) to the underlying assumptions of genre publishing. If I may say so without any implied criticism of individuals who happen to read books or work in publishing, those underlying (and almost entirely unexamined) assumptions are profoundly cynical. (Incidentally, this hypothesis--IF TRUE--supports my perception that US culture places a surprisingly low value on education.) (09/23/2007)

1) I'm a storyteller. I don't "struggle" with ideas that help me tell my stories as well as I can. I'm grateful for those ideas. 2) The ability to bring fire out of wood without consuming the wood was always a specialized application of magical (lillianrill) lore. And "lore" by its very nature is simply too vast for everyone to be able to master all of it. Just because *some* people could use wood without consuming it doesn't mean *everyone* could. (09/23/2007)

I'm sorry: I don't know when Heyne will release "Fatal Revenant" in German ("The Runes of the Earth" appeared some time ago). I never know such things because no one ever tells me. But I can assure you that translations are *not* composed "parallel" with my writing. For reasons which seem obvious to me, foreign publishers wait until I have achieved a finished and polished text before they begin their own efforts. If they didn't, the cost of translation would go up because the translator would be forced to, well, back-track in order to find and incorporate my changes. As a result, translated editions appear after--sometimes long after--the original texts are published. (09/24/2007)

Do I have a Plan B in case something happens to me before I finish "The Last Chronicles"? This question has come up several times this month. I've answered it more than once in the GI. But that was some time ago. For those of you who can't figure out how to locate the answer (I would be one <sigh>)--and for those of you who don't believe I'm going to live forever (such skepticism!)--and also because I have something new to say on the subject--I'll tackle it again. The short answer is: no, I don't have a Plan B. Of course, I'll feel bad if I don't actually finish the story--unless I'm, you know, DEAD, in which case who knows what I'll feel? But I don't have a Plan B kind of mind. And I refuse to live my life in fear that something terrible is going to happen to me. However, I've given the matter more thought over the past year or two; and I've evolved something that sort of resembles a Plan B. IF I'm faced with dying--and IF I get some months of advance notice--and IF whatever I'm facing leaves me with my mind intact for a while--I *may* (and I need to emphasize *may* because many things could change between now and, well, whenever) turn the problem over to my children. In their distinctive fashions, they are both fine writers. I'll give them whatever work I've completed; I'll give them all of my notes; I'll explain my notes as best I can; I'll tell them as much as I can about my intentions for the remaining story; and I'll give them the option of completing the story for me--if they feel so inclined. (I will *not* give anyone *else* permission to finish my work. If my children decide not to do it, it won't get done.) Of course, if I get struck by lightning, or a truck, or a drive-by, all bets are off. Meanwhile, let me assure you that I'm in good health. (09/26/2007)

I usually avoid subjects like this. But today I'm in the mood to blunder ahead. So-- 1) Not having read Potters 2-7, I really can't comment. But let me observe that there may well be no new ideas anywhere. One could argue that no writer ever does anything except polish up old ideas until they look shiny. So it's perfectly possible that Rowling has written something that *sounds* Donaldsonian for her own good and sufficient reasons. Maybe she made those ideas work, maybe she didn't: I wouldn't know. But keep in mind that people are forever accusing me of taking all kinds of things from Tolkien. If you're willing to cut me some slack, maybe you could do the same for her. 2) My own (conscious) thefts have all been matters of storytelling technique: design, style, timing, whatever I happen to need. To my eye, at least, the links between my work and Henry James, Joseph Conrad, and William Faulkner are pretty obvious. But I'm not privy to the secret counsels of my unconscious mind: I just take what it gives me and say Thank You. (09/26/2007)

I suppose you could say that "like responds to like": those fanatics were already Despiser-surrogates of a sort, so they were easily influenced. Or I suppose you could say that the barriers between realities are breaking down, thanks to LF's original abuse of Drool and the Staff of Law. Or I suppose you could say that some things are better left to the reader's imagination. <rueful smile> (09/27/2007)

It probably bears repeating that I don't choose where I go on book tours. My publishers pay the expenses, so they make the decisions. Naturally one hopes that their choice of venues reflects a larger promotional strategy; but one never knows.... <sigh> (09/28/2007)

We've entered a realm of rather abstruse theological speculation. After all, what do *we* know about how gods think or feel? But I'm inclined to believe that benign beings generally are more likely than malign beings to accept the possibility (the necessity?) of their own ending. Benign beings can accomodate the notion that The Greater Good may require their dissolution: malign beings cannot see any Greater Good than themselves. If any of that is true, the Despiser could never acquiesce in his own destruction: the Creator might conceivably do so. (What? Did you think it was an *accident* that no one appeared to warn Linden before she entered the Land for "The Last Chronicles"? <malign grin>) (09/28/2007)

Publishers *do* keep track of sales figures. How else could they know whether or not they owe the author any royalties? or whether they themselves are making a profit? But *how* they keep track resists easy interpretation, especially by a layman (me). (I've discussed this elsewhere in the GI.) Typically years pass before I'm given numbers I can rely upon--assuming that I'm able to extract any meaning at all from my royalty statements. But I can tell you that WGW sold around 200,000 copies in hardcover, and has sold well over 1,000,000 copies over all. (I'm only talking about US sales here.) So far, TROTE has sold approximately 65,000 hardcovers and about the same number of trade paperbacks. The GAP books? Maybe 30,000 hardcovers each. 150,000 total copies each. The numbers--to coin a phrase--speak for themselves. (09/28/2007)

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The first three "Covenant" books became substantially successful as soon as they were all available in paperback. But none of the "Chronicles" appeared on non-genre-specific bestseller lists until "The One Tree," which in hardcover out-sold "The Wounded Land" (in hardcover) nearly 5-1. (09/28/2007)

I agree with you about my US and UK covers in recent years (decades?)--although the UK mass market paperback of "Runes" is pretty drab, as is the UK omnibus of "Mordant's Need". But every US publisher I've posed this question to has the same answer: "UK-style cover art just doesn't *sell* in the US." And I can't argue. After all, the Ballantine editions of the first six "Covenant" books all started out with cover art that I personally loathe (just my opinion)--and my first huge US bestseller, "The One Tree," had the worst cover of all. (09/29/2007)

Of course, much of the original inspiration came from the lines I quoted from "Silverlock". But I was also influenced--this should come as no surprise--by "Through the Looking Glass". And by Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions" (is it the character Kilgore Trout who refers to mirrors as "leaks" into other worlds?). (09/29/2007)