Kevin's Watch

Vraith wrote:And I love yours when my wife isn't watching..

Vince: Mr. Donaldson,

The first and second chronicles have been my favorite books since the late seventies, when I wondered into a book store fresh from reading LOTR and made the serendipitous decision to buy the Chronicles trilogy. Six readings later and fresh from Scott Brick's excellent reading of Lord Foul's Bane, I finally have a question I consider worthy of your time.

How, exactly, did Covenant's calling of the Ranyhyn save the company on Mount Thunder? Did the Ranyhyn actually allow the Eoman, Prothall, and (gasp!) Manethrall Lithe to ride?!? If not, how was this any different than what the Bloodguard and Mhoram could have done by calling them? If so, why wasn't this amazing fact -- that ordinary folk not chosen by the great horses were permitted to ride -- recounted later in the Chronicles?

I'm surprised that I didn't think of this on earlier readings, and I don't seem to find a discussion either here in the GI or on Kevin's Watch.

Thank you, more than is easy for me to say, for your stories. I don't know all of what they have cost you to tell, but "joy is in the ears that hear."

You raise a valid point. In retrospect, I wish that I had paid more attention to the matter (ideally in "The Illearth War"). That scene deserves (requires?) more narrative respect than I gave it. Unfortunately I'm stuck with the text as it stands; so I can only shrug--and try to forgive myself for being human enough to screw up occasionally.

(07/07/2009)

RADD: So, when do we get to see a trailer for Against All Things Ending?

All the best

As always, I don't post such things until a manuscript has achieved D&A ("delivery and acceptance"), which is still a long way off for "Against All Things Ending". (Once my editors give me their feedback, I'll have at least one more rewrite to do.) In addition, I don't usually post trailers until my publishers have told me when they plan to release the book (a decision which no sane publisher would make prior to D&A).

(07/07/2009)

SRD, in reference to Joan, wrote:For Covenant, she is, and perhaps has always been, the question he must answer: Is that me? Is it a part of me? And if it is, what do I do about it? How can I live with it?

In the Gradual Interview was wrote:Bob DeFrank: Hello and I hope you're doing well.

A question about the Despiser's capacities: Can Lord Foul see into the future, or into some of the possible futures that might become the present fact? If so, to what extent?

Obviously not with 20/20 vision or he wouldn't keep getting beat.

I ask for two reasons 1) since Mhoram and the Ranyhyn both have oracular abilities it would seem strange that a transcendent being wouldn't. And 2) I'm curious about how the Despiser is able to percieve the time-bound world.

All the best.

• At the moment, it seems to me that the significant difference between Lord Foul's powers and, say, Mhoram's oracular abilities, or the Ranyhyn's prescient relationship with time, is that LF is not a natural, organic occupant of this reality: he isn't born of the magic and Law that define life in the Land. Precisely because he is a transcendent being, he is *bound* in ways that don't suit him. That's why it's possible for some of the Earth's natural inhabitants (e.g. the Elohim) to have specific abilities he can't match. The Elohim *belong* there: he doesn't.
  
  In that respect, at least, he perceives "the time-bound world" in pretty much the same way that most of his opponents do. In particular, he can't "look" at the future--much less go there. He has to live and think and plan (and suffer) according to the laws of causality and sequence, just like (almost) everyone else.
  
  That said, his ability to imagine and plan for the possible outcomes of various ploys is obviously very strong--and getting stronger. However, he isn't hampered only by his unnatural (for him) imprisonment. He's also hindered by his own nature; by Despite. His ability to imagine and plan for the possible outcomes of various ploys is flawed by his inability to understand people who are *not* despisers.
  
  (07/10/2009)

As always, thank you!

I have to say that "Against All Things Ending" has grown on me as a title. It's now so deeply integrated into the text that I often forget I once had a different title in mind.

Be well!

--Steve

===========================

Hi Steve,

No question, others seem to have asked everything and anything already. I just wanted to congratulate you on the completion of the 2nd draft of Against All Things Ending (I still like Shall Pass Utterly better, more "chronish" sounding)ah well, so be it...

Hope you can take advantage of your down time, I'm sure it is much needed.

And again...Thank you so much for this wonderful story!!!

Tracie

===========================

Do NOT reply to this email. It was sent using a "reply to" address that is not set up to receive email. Further correspondence must be submitted via the Gradual Interview on Steve's official site (www.StephenRDonaldson.com).

Ben Chambers: I have to say that I appreciate your writing, not just for how well you execute it, but because you're willing to risk yourself on new ideas and new stories.

It seems that too many popular authors are, basically, "one trick horses." They may write dozens of books, but the books are all set in the same world, or (worse!) concern the same characters (I won't name names, but anyone who reads should be able to think of at least a few dozen like this...)

I realize there are financial considerations, and that readers are notoriously fickle when it comes to new properties (I think you mentioned its easier to sell a new author than a new series by an existing author). Still, I can't help but feel that these authors are crippling themselves by relying on their "familiar" works, and that they would be better writers if they would face their fears and make the effort to try something new.

Again I wanted to express my appreciation and thanks for your great work, especially in tackling new material, and also to ask if you have any other comments about this phenomenon?



Speaking in the broadest terms--and recognizing that there are real exceptions--I agree with you. Artists of any kind who don't push themselves to go in new directions and require themselves to face new challenges don't *grow*. In effect, they cripple their own creativity. Which is sad for them; sad for their readers; sad for literature/music/art/whatever.

But there are strange pressures on writers (I can't speak for other fields of creative endeavor) to produce *repeatable" successes. One, of course, is ego: having (perhaps inadvertently) written a bestseller, who wouldn't want to produce another? A second--as you've mentioned--is the unpredictability of readers. I know from personal experience that "Covenant" fans outnumber "Donaldson" fans at least five to one; probably ten to one. And I naturally wonder how readers can be so sure that they won't like my other books. On the other hand, this may not be as "fickle" as it seems. Isn't it simple human nature to prefer books that you already know you're going to like? Sure, it's sad when readers--like writers--don't grow. But when we have a really good experience (with a book, for example), don't we all want to have that same experience again? And aren't we all secretly suspicious when we're offered a very different experience?

However, a third (and uniquely powerful) pressure comes from the way publishing itself has changed. Thanks to the conglomeratization of modern publishing, publishers themselves are under intense pressure. Their mega-corporate owners demand high profits, and publishers have no actual idea how to generate those profits. The "fickleness" of readers as well as the uncertainty of the zeitgeist prevent even the most discerning editors from being able to predict which books will sell well and which won't. (And we won't even talk about how the concentration of publishing in New York tends to produce reflexive, self-referential decision-making.) Meanwhile *books* as a whole are selling less and less every year as fewer and fewer people choose to read--which makes the demand for profit both more relentless and more unattainable. So publishers do what any of us might do in their circumstances: they look at what sold well last year, and they do their best to publish exactly the same book(s) again this year. Therefore they pressure writers--hard--to write the same book(s) over again. They're human; and if they don't generate enough profit, they'll lose their jobs.

Naturally I wish that more writers accepted the challenge to become better. But I can sure understand why they don't.

(07/17/2009)

Reuben Hartgerink: Hi Stephen,

First, let me break a trend among your readers of criticizing you for taking so long between books and thank you for not lowering your standards. I understand that quality takes time, and I appreciate that you are striving for the highest quality you can attain.

Now to my question (in a rather roundabout way). For many years, my favorite scene in any of TCOTC has been the one near the beginning of TWL where Linden wants to see Joan, and Covenant tells her "This you have to understand. There's only one way to hurt a man who's lost everything. Give him back something broken." I have always felt that if I were asked to summarize TSCOTC in three sentences, I could not do a better job than these three do. Recently, I learned from Tad Williams' website that the parts of his past books of which he is most proud are often not what the readers would expect. He gave an example of a seemingly insignificant scene in one of his novels that he felt was rather well written. I was curious to know if you feel similarly about your work. Are there sentences, or single scenes which you are particularly fond of, or do you tend to be more proud of the book as a whole?

Thanks,

Reuben



As I've said in various situations, my reactions change constantly. Mood, context, weather, general frustration (with life more than with writing or the GI), the phrasing of the question: all tend to produce different responses (some of which I have the good sense to keep to myself <grin>). But it's probably axiomatic that my personal favorite whatevers that I've written wouldn't (can't?) be the same as my readers'. Transmitting a signal requires different equipment than receiving a signal.

At the moment, the only "favorite" that leaps to mind is the scene in "This Day All Gods Die" when

Spoiler

Angus confronts and releases Norna Fasner.

For me, that scene is a crowning achievement--doubtless of an entirely idiosyncratic sort.

(btw, I'm virtually never able to remember individual sentences. Once they're out of my head....)

(07/27/2009)

StevieG wrote:I'm pretty sure SRD answered this question fairly recently, but with a different response - I just can't find it right now:

Reuben Hartgerink: Hi Stephen,

First, let me break a trend among your readers of criticizing you for taking so long between books and thank you for not lowering your standards. I understand that quality takes time, and I appreciate that you are striving for the highest quality you can attain.

Now to my question (in a rather roundabout way). For many years, my favorite scene in any of TCOTC has been the one near the beginning of TWL where Linden wants to see Joan, and Covenant tells her "This you have to understand. There's only one way to hurt a man who's lost everything. Give him back something broken." I have always felt that if I were asked to summarize TSCOTC in three sentences, I could not do a better job than these three do. Recently, I learned from Tad Williams' website that the parts of his past books of which he is most proud are often not what the readers would expect. He gave an example of a seemingly insignificant scene in one of his novels that he felt was rather well written. I was curious to know if you feel similarly about your work. Are there sentences, or single scenes which you are particularly fond of, or do you tend to be more proud of the book as a whole?

Thanks,

Reuben



As I've said in various situations, my reactions change constantly. Mood, context, weather, general frustration (with life more than with writing or the GI), the phrasing of the question: all tend to produce different responses (some of which I have the good sense to keep to myself <grin>). But it's probably axiomatic that my personal favorite whatevers that I've written wouldn't (can't?) be the same as my readers'. Transmitting a signal requires different equipment than receiving a signal.

At the moment, the only "favorite" that leaps to mind is the scene in "This Day All Gods Die" when

Spoiler

Angus confronts and releases Norna Fasner.

For me, that scene is a crowning achievement--doubtless of an entirely idiosyncratic sort.

(btw, I'm virtually never able to remember individual sentences. Once they're out of my head....)

(07/27/2009)

I added the spoiler just in case you haven't read the Gap and want to!

Colin R. Grimes: Dear Stephen,

I have a stylistic question for you. Please bear with me as I explain.

In the "First Chronicles", I note a very broad story arc similar to "Lord of the Rings", i.e. :

First Book - Reluctant hero, bearing a Ring, journeys to the citadel of the wise, and from there a quest sets out that leads to a battle in the underground;

Second Book - a split quest where there is a battle with an "evil" army climaxing in their being destroyed by a forest;

Third Book - the split quest with a major battle to defend the good guys' citadel from an invading army while the hero must journey to the villain's land for a final confrontation.

I was wondering if you had deliberately used this broad outline as means of playing on the Land "real or a dream" question by giving your story the overall arc of a famous work of fiction.

Please understand, I am in no way accusing you of simply copying Tolkien; that would be ludicrous given that your themes and your use of these "arcs" are so entirely your own (and wonderfully successful, I might add). I am merely curious as to the deliberateness of intent, and what your own thoughts on this might be.

With deep appreciation & admiration for your work,
Colin R. Grimes







Ah, well. "Unconscious influences" again. Until you pointed them out, I never even noticed those similarities. <sigh> I was much more conscious of using "The Chronicles of Narnia" as, well, as a guide. In and out of the "fantasy" world; time discrepancies; that sort of thing. Of course, I had read LOTR more than once before I began on my own "Chronicles," so I can't very well pretend that I wasn't affected by Tolkien's work. But <smacks forehead vehemently> I really didn't "see" the similarities which suddenly seem so obvious. Maybe they explain why Lester del Rey was willing to take a chance on me. (After all, he loved "The Sword of Shannara".) Or maybe there's something archetypal about the underlying template that both Tolkien and I relied upon. Or maybe I actually was (in those days) more of a Tolkien imitator than I've ever realized.