This is not a review. I am not particularly good at writing reviews of books, nor do I like doing so (I don't mind writing up very short reviews of films and tv shows, though--go figure).
What I have been meaning to do for months now--better late than never--is post very short interviews with authors of books I've read within the last year or, uh, so. Those interviews, in my conception, would deal specifically with one aspect of the work that I thought particularly well done. (This is not to say that other aspects of the work weren't well done, just that I want to and can focus on one thing.)
My first foray into this exploration was meant to be Scott Westerfeld's The Midnighters Trilogy, in which I
discussed his use of the trilogy form here, only I never followed up with an interview question.
Today I bring you Sherwood Smith.
Why? you may ask. As if the answer is not self evident, since I think
sartorias is a fine writer.
But I wanted to ask Smith about world-building, something she does particularly well in general, and exceptionally well in this series (the third book,
King's Shield, is due to be published in Summer 2008, I believe).
Herewith, my self explanatory
questions and Smith's answers:
When I read Inda and The Fox, I felt that you, the author, could at any point in the story, at any location, describe that location in physical and social detail--that is, in the very same way you could describe any other place you have really been in the real world. How thoroughly do you actually know the world of Inda? Is the seeming depth an illusion managed by careful deployment of stage sets that merely seem three dimensional, or have you really thought it all through to that level?Well, I realized, when I was nineteen and having trouble (with zero skills) figuring what time it was where, I needed a globe. And the perfect idea came to me: a beach ball! It was cheap, collapsible so I could take it along when traveling, and it had the time zones already painted on it! I do need to make a new one, and will probably do that this year, now that I'm semi-retired, but that beach ball globe has served me well since 1970. I also have an atlas, on which I drew detailed local maps on one side of the page, and on the facing page, notes of geographic, economic, environmental, and political details. I began that in the seventies, and have worked on it ever since. So...yeah there's a lot of detail, but I'm always learning more. I think of it as like visiting Google Earth. You think you know a region, but when you focus in, there's always something new to be discovered.
As to the implied question, I'd been thinking for decades about what lay behind many cultural, political, and familial traditions and idiosyncracies of the main storyline, which I've been working on the bulk of my life. It seemed time to delve into the history, to [uncover] at least one layer of ruins, mysteries, etc. If I do it right, there will be resonance farther up the timeline.
How many years have you been working in this world?Since 1959. (I was eight years old.)
How many versions of Inda's story have you written? What draft is this, that finally saw publication?I don't know. Call it three 'version' if 'draft' is what you have when you go over a ms tweaking, cutting, expanding, clarifying. Since the context here is writing, I'll be a bit more detailed: In the first version, the one you beta-read several years ago, I crammed the entire story into one massive book. The first part of what is now INDA changed somewhat, but the later parts were mostly the highlight or dramatic scenes. Betsy Wollheim, on buying it, asked for it to be two books, which meant unpacking scenes I'd truncated or referred to obliquely, hoping that velocity would whiz the reader right along. The structure broke naturally at what is now the end of part one of THE FOX. It's a fairly climactic sequence. But it wasn't practical to issue two books of that size. So the story got broken into three, Since I'd seen the breakdown as six parts all along (three per book) it seemed all right to break that into three books of two parts each, except that the end of the first book was an awful cliffhanger, without much vestige of resolution.
Within those three versions, many, many, many drafts. Not enough, of course--not if one is a visual writer who 'sees' the story so clearly that one doesn't really 'see' the words one is dashing down. My rewrites are a constant battle against my own cinema brain, in an effort to see what words I actually got down, and attempt to make them more effective. That means going back over time after time. I think I passed thirty on the end of part one in Fox--I know I'm well past thirty in the first two thirds of the last book, being done right now.