Jane Lindskold's Blog, page 121

TT: Hi-Ho? Not These Dwarves!

JANE: Over the last couple of weeks, we’ve been discussing the various races that J.R.R. Tolkien forever made part of the landscape of Fantasy fiction.  It would probably shock many current Fantasy readers to realize that before this novel few – if any – Fantasy novels incorporated a suite of races that has now become routine, if not cliché.

Hi-Ho and Early Fantasy Fiction

ALAN: That’s exactly right. Pre-Tolkien fantasy, while it was full of wizards and magic, was almost exclusively human. The classic novel from this period is E. R. Eddison’s The Worm Ouroboros which tells of the war between Witchland and Demonland. In the course of telling his tale, Eddison also mentions Goblinland and Pixyland and at one point in the story a dwarf appears. However Goblinland and Pixyland are just country names, and even though the inhabitants are referred to as goblins and pixies, Eddison does nothing at all with the idea and it is clear that the goblins, the pixies and all the other characters are human.

Similar comments can be made about other fantasy worlds such as Fritz Leiber’s Fafhrd and Gray Mouser stories and the Conan the Barbarian fantasies written by Robert E. Howard.

Mind you – I think I could make a good case that Shakespeare’s Oberon and Titania were actually High Elves, in the Tolkien sense…

JANE: Oh, absolutely.  I’ve always assumed that Shakespeare’s characters had an influence on how Tolkien depicted his elves.

A few weeks ago, you talked about how hippies really identified with hobbits, and that wizards also entered the cultural landscape.  The popularity of elves, however, seems to be a somewhat later phenomenon.

Did dwarves make a larger cultural impact?

ALAN:  I think dwarves have always been part of popular culture – I seem to recall them appearing in a lot of fairy tales.

JANE:  Good point.  It’s rather strange, but dwarfs, especially treasure-mongering sorts, appear in many fairy tales, in a way that elves do not.  Tales about elves are more likely to be legend lore, rather than fairy tale.

I also think Walt Disney’s depiction of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs had a lot to contribute to keeping dwarfs in the popular eye.

So, how do you – personally –  feel about dwarves?

ALAN:  I’ve always had quite a soft spot for Tolkien’s dwarves. Certainly they were isolationists, preferring their delvings under the mountains to any involvement in the larger affairs of Middle Earth. Nevertheless they could not shut the world away completely and they suffered great tragedies as a result. I always felt a little bit sorry for them because of the troubles they had to live through.

JANE: My response to dwarves is much like yours.   Especially in The Hobbit, we get a good look at their interactions and differences in personality.  Because of this, they always seemed more three-dimensional than the elves, since the only elf we get to know really well is Legolas.

However, the dwarves indirectly lead to one of my biggest disconnects with Tolkien’s work.

ALAN: What was that?

JANE: When I was in college I read a translation of Snorri Sturlusson’s Poetic Edda.  Imagine my surprise when, in a piece about the origin of the dwarfs, I found a bunch of familiar names, up to and including Gandalf.  I realized that Tolkien had cribbed them entirely from Old Norse.

It’s startling to come across someone’s source quite so blatantly.  Whenever I’d hear people rave about Tolkien’s brilliant naming, I’d often point out he’d just swiped them.

ALAN: Not only did Tolkien swipe them, he also slightly misappropriated them. Gandalf was actually the name of a dwarf in the Völuspá, the first poem of the Poetic Edda. I can’t remember when or how I discovered that, but it definitely gave me a moment of culture shock when I did!

JANE: Tolkien must have liked the name Gandalf, because the character who would become Thorin Oakenshield was originally named Gandalf.

However, Tolkien later changed his mind and Gandalf became the wizard instead.

Many years later, I learned that Tolkien himself regretted his wholesale use of the names from the Poetic Edda.  It was one of the reasons he came up with the elaborate justification that the “Lord of the Rings” is actually translated from other languages and that the names in it are, in many cases, not the actual names, just borrowings to make translation easier.

ALAN: But that “elaborate justification,” to use your very appropriate phrase, is one of the major things that makes the world of Middle Earth feel so real and so full of history. So I think Tolkien can be forgiven his original theft of all those names because of what it led to.

Now, back to dwarves. In The Hobbit (both the book and the movies) we learn quite a lot about the history of the dwarves and their place in the world. One of the dwarves is Balin and we grow very close to him – he’s a tremendously appealing character. The movies make it quite clear that he is an influential dwarf, wise and battle-hardened. We see him fighting in the dwarf army that lost Moria to the orcs and, at the end of The Hobbit we see him survive the Battle of the Five Armies. We also know that, after Bilbo returns home to the Shire, Balin will lead an army to re-take Moria…

After watching all three Hobbit movies, I re-watched the Lord of the Rings, and I confess that I got a big lump in my throat when Gimli came across Balin’s tomb in Moria. His grief was palpable, and because I had grown so close to Balin, so was mine.

JANE: I always loved Balin.  He had a groundedness (pun intended) that Thorin – obsessed as he was with the Arkenstone of Thrain – lacked.  Honestly, he would have been a better leader all along.

Like Elves, Dwarves have shown a lasting appeal.  They are popular characters for role-players, and I suspect that if they weren’t usually defined as essentially non-magical – even resistant to magic – they would be even more so.

ALAN: Surely that magical resistance makes them great allies if you are enduring some kind of magical attack? But then again, I’m not a role-player…

JANE: Oh!  Absolutely…  But many role-players want to be able to do fancy magic, and if you play a dwarf, that’s out.

A great example of the appeal of dwarf can be found in the work of author Dennis McKiernan, whose first novels were an attempt to provide a backstory for the entire “Lord of the Rings” trilogy from the point of view of the dwarves.

I should note here that Dennis was an electrical engineer at the time and had no idea about literary rights.  However, he’d always loved the books, thought that there was more story behind the dwarves involvement.  When a motorcycle accident put him in bed with two broken legs, he decided to write the dwarves’ story.

Doubleday was interested and apparently tried to get permission from the Tolkien estate to publish them as prequels.  When the estate would not give permission, Doubleday thought (correctly) there would be an audience for the tales, and asked Dennis to rewrite, creating his own world to set the story in.

These books were eventually published as The Iron Tower trilogy and became the basis for McKiernan’s Fantasy realm of Mithgar.

ALAN: Another good example of the enduring popularity of dwarves comes from the German writer Markus Heitz. He has written a whole series of novels about dwarves, some of which have been translated into English. They seem to be quite popular. I’ve not read any of them myself, but a friend of mine whose judgement I trust is particularly fond of them. It seems that dwarves are everywhere.

I actually know a dwarf in real life. He’s a very tall dwarf, about six feet tall in every direction. But nevertheless he’s a dwarf.

JANE: Okay…  I’ll bite.  How do you have a dwarf who is six feet tall in every direction?

ALAN: It’s simple – I know an actor who was one of John Rhys-Davies’ body doubles (Rhys-Davies played Gimli in the movies). Peter Jackson really does enjoy making life hard for himself – both men are very tall and very bulky, not dwarf-like at all!

JANE:  Bulky works for dwarves…  Doesn’t it?   I wonder why the body-double, at least, wasn’t shorter.  Probably has something to with the CGI work.  I thought John Rhys-Davies did an excellent job with Gimili, despite the height disadvantage.

Now, I feel we can’t discuss dwarfs – or dwarves – without a mention of where the plural “dwarves” originated.  Do you know?

ALAN: No, I don’t. Is that what they call a trick question?

JANE: Not really…  It fits our discussion perfectly.  Tolkien actually created the word.  “Dwarves” (rather than “dwarfs”) was a plural he came up with, later regretted as “ungrammatical,” but by then it was established enough in his writings and in his own mind that he stayed with it.  So, in addition to fleshing out dwarvish culture and taking them from myth and fairytale to popular figures of Fantasy fiction, Tolkien also gave them a new plural!

ALAN: I suppose that’s what happens when you are a philologist!

JANE: Now, we’ve left one mysterious and important race out of our discussion…  Perhaps we can pursue it next time!

Announcements, Memorial, and Conduit

Have I ever mentioned that I’m a little superstitious?  Well, I am, at least about things that seem to be too good to be true.  That’s why I’ve waited until now to tell you about something I first learned back in early April.

Paul Genesse Interviews Me

I’ve been invited to be one of the featured authors at this year’s National Book Festival.  This event is a Big Deal.  It’s organized by the Library of Congress and features a hundred or so of (in their own words) “the nation’s best authors, poets and illustrators.”

Making it nicer for me, the National Book Festival is held in my hometown, Washington, D.C.  You can learn more details here.

So, that’s the first announcement…  The second is that S.M. Stirling has asked me to pass on the word that the anthology The Change: Tales of Downfall and Rebirth, which features stories set in his immensely popular “Changeverse,”  will be hitting stores and Amazon on the first of June!  Among the stories featured is my own “The Hermit and the Jackalopes.”

A launch for The Change will be held on June 15th, at the Jean Cocteau Theater in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Many of the authors plan to attend, so this is a great way to get your copy signed by all.  A second event will be held on June 27th at Page One Books in Albuquerque.

Speaking of the Jean Cocteau Theater, I was there Sunday for an event in honor of Roger Zelazny, hosted by George R.R. Martin, and organized by Trent Zelazny.  As many of you know, Roger was very dear to me.  We lived together the last year of his life and losing him was the hardest thing that ever happened to me.

I won’t pretend that the event was easy.  When I got up to make my presentation, for the first time ever in my life, my mouth went completely dry.  Up to that point, I’d thought that was a metaphor.  It isn’t.  I could barely talk and was too overwhelmed to ask someone to get me some water.  However, though some miracle, I managed to say a few words, then read Roger’s poem, “When Pussywillows Last in the Catyard Bloomed.”  You can bet that I made sure I had water available when, later on, I read another of Roger’s poems, “To Spin is Miracle Cat.”

Presentations and readings, wise, witty, and wonderful were given by Parris Martin, Walter Jon Williams, Melinda Snodgrass, Shannon Zelazny, John Jos. Miller, Steve Gould, and Trent Zelazny.  Joe and Gay Haldeman and Steven Brust weighed in via Skype, and Neil Gaiman sent a videotaped reading from London.

Trent had made a slideshow mingling art inspired by Roger’s work with some photos of Roger.  We watched the Twilight Zone episode George had adapted from Roger’s story, “The Last Defender of Camelot,” followed by George talking about how Roger had befriended him when George first moved to Santa Fe, then some behind-the-scenes details of how the story was adapted to the script.

Later in the evening, there was a dramatic presentation centered around Roger’s play, “Godson,” based on the short story of the same name (which in turn was inspired by the fairytale “Godfather Death.”)  I was familiar with the play already.  I think I was probably the first person to read it.  I’d even heard Roger read it aloud one memorable night at George’s.  However, I had no idea how it would actually work out when performed.

I’m happy to report that it was a delightful presentation.  Andy Primm wrote (and I believe performed) music for guitar to go with Roger’s lyrics.  The small cast did a brilliant job with the handkerchief stage.  Since there was no room for sets, a newly created character, “The Raven,” read Roger’s lovely stage directions to set the scene.  I was very impressed!

And while we’re talking about events…  Over Memorial Day weekend, Jim and I went up to Salt Lake City, Utah, where I was Guest of Honor at Conduit.  We drove up from Albuquerque, stopping overnight in Moab, Utah, so we could visit Arches National Monument.  For Jim, this provided an opportunity to take photos.  For me, it was a great opportunity to immerse myself in a strange, almost alien landscape, not unlike portions of the planet Gryphon on which I’ll be setting my next Honorverse story.  The immersion must have worked, because I started the story soon after we got home!

On Friday, Jim and I completed the drive to Salt Lake.  (Aside: The distance between Albuquerque and Salt Lake takes about twelve hours to drive, longer if you want to stop along the way.)  We checked into the convention hotel and, by 4:00 p.m., I was on my first panel, chatting about the Honorverse with the HMS Jonas Adock crew (aka, the local David Weber fan club).  I had fun telling tales on my good buddy and giving away prizes.

This panel was followed immediately by one on YA fiction.  Then we dined with our good friends, Julie and Nora Bartel, before going off to the Ice Cream Social.  Here some of the Jonas Adock crewmembers made sure we didn’t feel left out.  Soon, other people drifted over to chat.

Eventually, we staggered off to bed.  We rose early the next morning to meet the Bartels (now a full set, rounded out by Ken, Julie’s husband and Nora’s dad).   We went to breakfast at the Little America hotel, where I ate the best French toast I’ve ever had.  After breakfast, we went across the street to tour the astonishing five-star splendor of the  Grand America Hotel, which was built as part of bringing the Olympics to Salt Lake City.  Now I know precisely how to describe a palace, should the need ever arise.  Even the individual stalls in the lady’s room were lined in marble!

Then it was back to Conduit for an amazingly busy day.  I started with back-to-back panels on “The Unpayable Debt” (influences from other writers or mentors) and on Dune on the 25th anniversary of its publication.  Both were lots of fun.

I had an hour break, so we dashed up to my room to grab a few things before the next round.  We came down to meet with Julie for a quick review before our joint panel on “Judging a Book by Its Cover.”  We’d also hoped to find coffee but, in an act of Cosmic Mystery, the hotel coffee shop had closed at 11:00 a.m.  Happily for us, the hotel restaurant made us gifts of two “to-go” cups, so Julie and I were recharged for our event.

After “Judging a Book by Its Cover” (in which we were joined by Eddy Roberts and which included a lot of audience participation), I had time to breathe for a few minutes before bustling off to my reading.  Because I knew Julie wanted to hear it, I read my short story “The Button Witch,” an odd bit of old-style urban fantasy about a strange woman who grants wishes, but only “button wishes.”

When I finished, one of the audience members exclaimed: “My mother collects buttons!” which just goes to show: there is magic in the universe.

After my reading, I galloped off to do a signing.  I’d brought copies of Wanderings on Writing and was pleased how many people bought one.  Icing on the cake, the artist Guest of Honor complimented Tori Hansen’s cover art.

For the final event of the day, I’d asked local Utah author, talented interviewer, and friend Paul Genesse (that’s pronounced “Gen-ess,” like “finesse”) to interview me.  He’d really done his homework and the hour sped by.  Afterwards, we grabbed jackets and went out to dinner with Paul, and two of his friends, Don and Pat.  The evening ended with an unintentional dungeon crawl through the single most confusing parking garage I’ve even been in.  As if commenting on our plight, we passed a car whose license plate read: “Mwahaha,” in the best evil villain fashion.

Sunday, I only had two panels – one on using non-classical mythology, the other on writing in collaboration.  Both were lots of fun.  Jim ended our day by giving a well-attended talk on archeology.  Nora Bartel, age six and a half, had the courage to ask the question everyone really wants to ask, but is too shy to venture: “What do you do when you find a skeleton?”

We explored Salt Lake City with the Bartels that evening.  (The older areas are very lovely.)  We ended with dinner at a Himalayan place.  We’d never had Himalayan cuisine before and liked it a lot.

Monday morning, we were back on the road. This time our destination was Dolores, Colorado, which features the Anasazi Heritage Center.  We got there an hour before closing, but a kind ranger gave us permission to hike the trails, as long as we closed the gates after us.

Tuesday was home again, home again…  I don’t know how people who travel a lot manage!

FF: Reading on the Road

We spent a lot of time on the road this past weekend, driving up to Conduit, in Utah, so I didn’t get as much reading done as I would have liked.  Still, audiobooks do help…

At Arches National Monument in Utah

A reminder… The Friday Fragments feature lists of what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

The House of Many Ways by Diana Wynne Jones.  Jim and I had listened to the first two “Howl” books on our last road trip, so this was our first choice for this trip.  Charmain is the sort of protagonist Diana Wynne Jones does very well – annoying yet still sympathetic.  And, as those of you who have read my Child of a Rainless Year know,  I love stories about weird houses.

In Progress:

Bluefeather Fellini by Max Evans.  I didn’t bring this one with me, so I’m not much further along.

Children of Dune by Frank Herbert.  The Dune panel at Conduit was fun, but the second half of this book is really dragging…

Conrad’s Fate by Diana Wynne Jones.  Audiobook.  This one also stayed at home, but I’ve resumed and am having a great deal of fun.

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater.  Audiobook.  I read this soon after it came out and loved it.  I used the trip to seduce Jim.  He’s completely hooked.  We’ll definitely make time to finish it this weekend.

Also:

Some of Roger Zelazny’s poetry.  As much as he loved his prose, poetry was Roger’s first writerly love.  I’ll be reading a couple of his at a celebration of his life this weekend in Santa Fe and found myself reading more than my “homework.”

That includes the ones he wrote for me – which I won’t be reading at the event.

TT: Elegant and Ultra Cool

JANE:  Well, Alan, we’ve been chatting about the ripple effect of the “Lord of the Rings” novels.  We’ve talked about Hobbits and Wizards.  Now, how about elves?

ALAN: Indeed – how about elves? Elves are fascinating and very important in the unfolding of the stories.

Young Wood Elves (by Jane)

JANE: These days, I’d say that elves are the most popular of the races of Middle Earth.  How were they seen during the Summer of Love and the novels’ first flush of mass popularity?

ALAN: I’m not sure I know how to answer this. I don’t remember any of the races of Middle Earth (other than the hobbits, of course) as being particularly inspirational.

I think the current feelings about elves and dwarves (and even orcs!) derive far more from Peter Jackson’s movies than they do from the books.

JANE: I’d have to disagree with that.  Elves have been very popular for a long time.  A good example comes from role-playing games and fiction derived from them where they are (based on a very informal survey) among the most popular characters.

 Elves are cool, beautiful, and get all the advantages of long lives, but never look old.  There are all sorts of “flavors” of elves: high elves (like Galadriel and her kin), wood elves (like the ones Bilbo meets in The Hobbit), and even dark elves.

ALAN: I’m not a role-player, so I’m not familiar with dark elves. What are they?

JANE: I’m not sure where they originated, but I first encountered them via AD&D.  Dark elves (also called Drow) have night-black skin, silvery hair, and live underground.  They practice dark arts (of course) and are often skilled in stealth and assassination.  They were originally introduced as antagonists, but they were too popular to stay that way for long.

I gave up on the AD&D gaming system long ago, so my knowledge is limited.  However, if what I keep seeing on book covers is any indication, the Dark Elf is alive and more popular than ever.

ALAN: Ah, I see. That would definitely add an extra dimension to the character of an elf.

Down here in Middle Earth itself, elves really have made an indelible impression. I once had an elf on one of my training courses. In “real life” he was a computer system administrator, but he’d volunteered as an extra and he’d been cast as an elf because, damnit, he was an elf. He was tall and slim and beautiful, he had long straight blond hair and there was an undeniable elegance about his body language. He was utterly thrilled about the whole thing, of course and I’m sure that for him it was a life-changing experience.

JANE: That’s really neat.  How did you find out?  Did he come in and introduce himself as an elf?

ALAN: No – I always ask the students to introduce themselves to me and to the rest of the class (it helps to break the ice), and when it was his turn, he just told me about his computer background and why he was in the course. Trying to make conversation, I said, “Gosh, you look just like an elf. You really should be in the Lord of the Rings films.” He smiled and told me that actually he was in the movie. He said that if I looked closely and didn’t blink, I’d see him as one of the elf warriors who fought at Helm’s Deep. Everyone in the class was very impressed!

JANE:   He must have been very pleased.  At Bubonicon one year, we had two cosplayers who were such magnificent elves it was hard to believe they weren’t the real thing.   They turned out to be brother and sister – Jacob and Jennifer – from the southern part of New Mexico.

As an aside, Jacob also did a marvelous Jareth from Labyrinth a few years later, and Vash the Stampede (from the anime Trigun, as well).  Peter Jackson probably would have cast him in a heartbeat.

ALAN: I’m sure he would! He never misses a good opportunity like that.

JANE: To be honest, though, while I visually liked Peter Jackson’s elves very, very much, I did not care for how they were presented otherwise.  Emotionally, they were more Vulcans than elves.  I re-read the books after seeing the movies and confirmed that Tolkien’s elves – even the High Elves – were fond of song and dance, of picnics and teasing.  The ethereal creatures who floated through the movies demonstrated none of those personality traits.

ALAN: Perhaps Peter Jackson was feeding off popular culture as well as off the books. From what you said before about role-playing games, there’s obviously been a lot of thought put in to the way elves are supposed to look and behave. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Jackson had tapped into this. He always seems to have his finger firmly on the pulse of the various sub-cultures that we collectively refer to as fandom. And he’s a big fan himself, of course.

JANE: I hadn’t thought of that, but I bet you’re right.  I could see fans blending Vulcans and elves without even being conscious of it.

ALAN: In terms of defining the character of the elves in the popular imagination, I think that the archetypal elf is Legolas. And Orlando Bloom, the actor who played him in the movies, gave a definitive performance.  When The Return of the King premiered in Wellington, the whole city went mad. There was a huge parade through the city with the cast and crew of the movie having pride of place. Orlando Bloom was particularly prominent, waving enthusiastically to everyone and obviously having the time of his life. A stunningly beautiful elf lady in the crowd was spotted holding up a sign that said “De-Bloom Me Orlando!”

JANE: Oh…  That’s made me laugh…

Y’know, it’s funny you’d say that Legolas is the “archetypal” elf.  He’s certainly the most prominent elf in the novels – being the only elf in the Fellowship.  However, if I’ve got my facts straight, he’s not a High Elf, he’s a Wood Elf, son of the hard-drinking, avidly partying elf king who locks up the Dwarves in The Hobbit.  Do I have that right?

ALAN: Yes you do – Thranduil is the ruler of the Wood Elves in Mirkwood and Legolas is his son. Thranduil sent Legolas to represent the Wood Elves at the Council of Elrond as a result of which Legolas found himself a member of the Fellowship that set out to destroy the One Ring.

JANE: If so, the snooty High Elves would be very disturbed that you see Legolas as “archetypal,” since they’d probably see him as a roistering “country cousin,” son of a king or not.

ALAN: You are probably right – but in both the books and the movies we see more of Legolas than we do of any other elf, and it is that prominence that made me think of him as archetypal. There’s something cold and distant about the High Elves. We never really come to know Elrond or Galadriel in the same way that we know Legolas.

JANE: We don’t – either in the books or the movies – although I will restate that they are far less cold and distant in the books.  And there must be something good about them, since Bilbo retires among them, and Sam – who is the most sensible character in all the Lord of the Rings – is very taken with them.

We’ve given elves a lot of attention.  I can hear someone hammering at the door, demanding his people be given a fair share.  So, next time, how about Dwarves?

Avoid or Anticipate?: The Problem of Series

Hi, Folks…  I just got in from Utah yesterday, and my animals and garden are hollering for attention.  (Jim is not hollering, because he went with me.)  I’ll wait to write about our trip for next week.

Three of My Series

Meanwhile, here’s something I wrote in advance.  It’s an update of a piece of the same title that I wrote for Tor.com in 2008.

Over the years I’ve been writing, I’ve noticed a funny thing.  I’ve had close on twenty-five novels published since late 1994 when my first novel, Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls, came out.  During that time, no one has ever come up to me and heartily thanked me for writing a stand-alone novel.

Seriously.  You’d think someone would have done so, given the lack of respect that series, especially fantasy series, get.  But no one ever has.

Although people tend to think of me as a “series writer,” I’ve actually written quite a lot of stand-alone fiction, both long and short.   There have been plenty of opportunities for people to praise me for writing just that one novel.  However, usually the response is the opposite.  When I say, “No.  I don’t have any plans to write a sequel to Child of a Rainless Year” (or whichever book is under discussion), I immediately hear why I need to write more about those people and that place.

By contrast, while I’ve never been praised for writing a stand-alone, I’ve had a lot of requests for sequels – and not only to novels, but to short fiction as well.  When I finished the Wolf Series (which starts with Through Wolf’s Eyes and ends with Wolf’s Blood) I had copious e-mails asking if I was really, really done.  Now, eight years later, not a month has gone by without a request for more about Firekeeper, Blind Seer, Derian, and all the rest.

Some kind folks even pointed out minor elements I had left open.  I felt genuine appreciation that these numerous someones could put that much energy into picking apart something I’d written.  However, I also pointed out that, short of blowing up the world and turning out the lights, there is no way to absolutely, categorically end a series.

So it seems that readers like Fantasy and SF series.  Yet, apparently, the fastest way to fall from grace is to write one.  Reviewers sniff.  Books in series seem to have a lower shot at award nominations.  Later books in a series seem not to get reviewed as often – although I think this last is changing.

Why, then, are Fantasy and SF series the girl everyone wants to date, but no one wants to take home to mother?

Here a few thoughts on why, followed by my own approach to avoiding these pitfalls.

Fantasy and SF series are too often an excuse for writing one novel that spans several volumes.  Unlike Mysteries or Thrillers, which have a set goal, Fantasy and SF series can go on and on without closure.

Why did this become acceptable?  Partly because, when more complex Fantasy and SF stories began to be told, the market simply wasn’t ready for Fat Books.  Lord of the Rings is one story.  So are the first five Chronicles of Amber (and the second set, too).  But in the age of the skinny paperback these complex stories had to be split up, and readers became conditioned to the “weak middle book,” lots of repetition, and all the other things that can make series weak.

Another problem is the time lag between books in a series.  I know that I almost didn’t read the second Chronicles of Amber because I’d noted a five year lapse between the copyright dates of volume four and five of the first set.  When an excited friend called me to tell me that there was more Amber, my reply was “I’ll wait.”  (Then because of a camping trip, I didn’t wait, but that’s neither here nor there).

Then there are the books that become a series, but were never intended to be such.  Some of these work out very well.  Others read like what they are – an attempt to capitalize on an unexpected success, but showing that the author really lacks the fire and organization to make subsequent books live up to that first golden one.

I was very aware of these pitfalls when I started the Firekeeper Saga (aka the Wolf Books) – which was my first project I planned as a series.

(Aside: Changer was not planned to have a sequel.  I was open to the possibility, even had ideas in mind, but it was not sold as part of a series.  By contrast, the Firekeeper Saga was conceived and purchased as a series.)

To deal with the first part of the problem, I decided to take one of my favorite mystery series: Dorothy L. Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey novels as a model.  In each of these novels, Peter has a problem to solve: a body in a bathtub or whatever.  While he solves that, he also must deal with personal challenges: unresolved romantic attachments, post-traumatic stress disorder, his relationship with his immediate family.  By the end of the novel, we know who the body in the bathtub was, but the personal problems may or may not be resolved.

I like this approach.  Although my novels aren’t murder mysteries, I try to pose myself a question at the start of each one, a problem that will be resolved by the end.  This isn’t always easy, and I don’t think I quite managed with the end of Wolf Hunting but, overall, I’m happy with what I did.

I tried the same tactic with the “Breaking the Wall” series and my new “Artemis Awakening” series.  In both cases, I was somewhat handicapped by the fact that Powers Beyond My Control insisted that the novels be shorter than the Firekeeper books.  For the “Breaking the Wall” books, I managed by giving the problem a tighter focus.  However, for the even shorter “Artemis Awakening” books, I had no choice but to make some serious changes in my previous series format.

One change I made was limiting myself to two point-of-view characters for Artemis Awakening.  (By contrast, Through Wolf’s Eyes had at least three major and several lesser.)  Another change was that I had to leave one major plot element – a certain door – unresolved.

For those of you who have read Artemis Awakening, I promise you’ll get the answer to where that door leads in Artemis Invaded.

On the author’s side of the equation, the problem of delay between volumes is solved by applying fingers to keyboard and tail bone to chair.  And working – hard.

However, the author is not in sole control of when a book will come out.  Even if she turns her manuscript in on time, scheduling is in the hands of Someone Else.

As an aside:  I’ve talked to several self-published authors.  Although they have somewhat more control over scheduling, wild cards (health problems, complications over some element in producing the book itself) can mess up even the best intentions.  In fact, since most self-publishing operations narrow down to one person, a problem with that one person can lead to more, not fewer delays…

Most of my work has been traditionally published.  Although release dates have varied, I will say this: I’ve missed one deadline.  That was when my father died.  Even then, I was only six weeks late turning in the manuscript.  I really try not to disappoint my readers.

So…   How do you feel about series?  Avoid or anticipate?

Also, any questions about the complexities of writing series?  I’ve had a request from a “ghost” reader of these Wanderings that I talk more about how I approach it…  I’d love to include your questions, too.

FF: No Real Theme. Sorry!

This week my reading has been all over the place…

A reminder… The Friday Fragments feature lists of what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

Another Stark Landscape

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

The Lives of Christopher Chant by Diana Wynne Jones.  Audiobook.  I really enjoyed this.  Christopher’s growing realization as to who he is and what consequences are doesn’t automatically make him a “nice child.”  The transformation is a lot more subtle and a lot more interesting.

The Hunt for the Big Bad Wolf by E.M. Tippets.  The third book of Tippets’ series which began with Someone Else’s Fairytale continues being more about “relationships” than romance. This is a plus, as far as I’m concerned.  The mystery/crime plot was well-handled, with an interesting resolution.

In Progress:

Bluefeather Fellini by Max Evans.  I picked this up on impulse.  It’s episodic, almost like novellas woven together.  I’m currently on the battlefields of WWII.  Scary.  There has also been love, sorrow, discovery, friendship, and obsession.  And some gorgeous descriptive writing.

Children of Dune by Frank Herbert.  I’m on a panel at Conduit this weekend on Dune.  I decided I wanted to remind myself how “Dune the next generation” progressed.

Conrad’s Fate by Diana Wynne Jones.  Audiobook.  I’d seriously intended to move on to the second book in the much-discussed Southern Reach triology as soon as a copy became available on audio, but I gave into the lure of watching Christopher as a teenager.

Also:

I started Ursula K. Le Guin’s “rendition” (her word, not mine) of Lao Tzu Tao Te Ching: A Book About the Way and The Power of the Way.  Reading slowly, as such deserves.

TT: The Hippness Factor of Wizards

JANE: So, Alan,  I’ve been enjoying talking with you about the impact Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” novels had – not only their decided impact on Fantasy fiction, but their larger cultural impact.  Can you give me another example?

Wizards Rock!

ALAN: I most certainly can. We had a hippie community in England that called itself Gandalf’s Garden. It ran a head shop and published a magazine that emphasised mysticism over materialism and which claimed that meditation was to be preferred over drugs!

JANE: Wait…  Both a head shop and preferring meditation over drugs?  There’s a disconnect here…

ALAN: Perhaps head shop is the wrong word, I was using it in the generic sense of filling your head with new ideas based on spiritualism and occultism (and probably a lot of other -isms as well). Gandalf’s Garden was a craft shop and drop-in centre with some accommodation for the homeless and lots of honey-flavoured tea. The magazine only lasted for six issues but, nevertheless, it still managed to attract articles by Joan Baez, Spike Milligan and the poets Christopher Logue and Adrian Mitchell.

JANE: Wow!  That’s a great list of contributors.  I like craft shops…  Too much!  Sounds as if I would have found much to enjoy.

ALAN: Another example of the impact the books had came from the music of the time. Marc Bolan and a young man who insisted on calling himself Peregrine Took (after the hobbit of the same name, of course) formed an avant-garde, psychedelic underground rock band called Tyrannosaurus Rex. I’m sure you can guess what kind of songs they sang.

JANE: Uh…  Hobbitty folk songs?  I’m guessing, because I’m more familiar with Marc Bolan’s later work.

ALAN: Their songs all had a magical/mystical feel to them, heavily influenced by generic fantasy tropes. For example, their 1968 album Prophets, Seers & Sages: The Angels of the Ages has a track called “Aznageel The Mage.”  I can easily imagine bumping into Aznageel at the Prancing Pony in Bree…

JANE: I’m not familiar with the album.  We did discuss the impact of Fantasy on rock music in general a while back, and this fits in beautifully into that pattern.  But Marc Bolan didn’t stay with the hobbits, did he?

ALAN: No, not quite.  Later in his career, after Peregrine Took left, Marc Bolan re-invented himself as a glam rocker and changed the name of the band to T. Rex. He made a fortune, lived the rock star life to the full, and died in a car crash, a victim of his own success. There were those who claimed he had sold out…

JANE: Ah, but as the band name shows, he envisioned himself as a carnivorous dinosaur, not a hobbit.  He just followed his muse.

Going back to your mention of Gandalf’s Garden.  I’m not sure I would have found the use of his name an incentive to attend a place, even a garden.

Gandalf was one of my biggest problems with the “Lord of the Rings” story.  He was so very full of himself.  He put other people in danger.  Vanished inconveniently.  Refused to die and leave people alone but, instead, did the whole Jesus resurrection thing…  And then at the end of the series, he has the gall to admit he’s had one of the major magical rings all along.

It took me a long time – and actually a very sound comment from the audience by a fellow named Joe Jackson, during a panel at Bubonicon – to show me Gandalf as many others see him: the unhappy political leader who must send others into danger.  Next time I read the books, I read them with that in mind and I felt more sympathy for Gandalf.

ALAN: That’s a good point. When I read The Hobbit, like you, I was always unhappy about the way Gandalf deserted Bilbo and the Dwarves just when they needed him most. I was very pleased to see that Peter Jackson obviously felt the same way because in the movie of The Hobbit we learn just why Gandalf had to go, where he went and how important his journey was. Also, Gandalf does not leave with an easy conscience. He clearly feels guilty about the necessity.

JANE: Good for Peter Jackson.  I suppose it was a lot to expect Gandalf to be everywhere at once, but he certainly had a gift for vanishing and leaving others to carry the burden.  I really felt he was stupid to go see Saruman as he did, even though there had to have been evidence that his old friend wasn’t quite right in the head.

However, having Saruman imprison Gandalf did solve the problem Tolkien had created for himself by creating a very powerful wizard who knew a huge amount of both history and magic, and had influence with just about everyone.  As when earlier in the series, Gandalf falls when fighting the Balrog, it gets him out of the way, so more vulnerable characters will be center stage.

ALAN: I like the idea that Gandalf could make mistakes. There’s something terribly tedious about infallibility – all the literary tensions disappear. I hesitate to say that his errors of judgement and moments of weakness made him more human, because human was the very last thing that he was. But it certainly made him easier to identify with.

JANE: I’ll go with the fact that these mistakes do make Gandalf easier to identify with.  However, it’s often overlooked that neither Gandalf nor his fellow wizards are human.  They belong to a race called the Maiar, and were sent to Middle Earth as part of the struggle against the forces of Sauron.

It may be because Gandalf is aware that he and Saruman’s (I really hate how similar the names “Saruman” and “Sauron” are!  They perpetually confused me when I was a child.) entire reason for being on Middle Earth is to fight Sauron, that he cannot believe Saruman would fall and go over to their enemy.

ALAN: The Maiar can be seen as angels and we know that angels can fall. I’ve always seen Saruman as a Lucifer-like figure. It helps, of course, that Lucifer means the bringer of light and Saruman was the white wizard. White is the colour of a bright light (remember the tremendous glare when Merry and Pippin encountered the re-born Gandalf the White in Fangorn Forest?). I don’t want to read too much into the parallel because Tolkien always denied that he was writing allegory, but nevertheless he was a deeply religious man and this must have had an effect on his view of the world. Saruman’s treachery would be a natural story development for him

So I didn’t find it nearly as surprising as Gandalf did.

JANE: Hmm… I can certainly see your parallel, although Lucifer’s besetting sin was Pride.  Saruman’s going over to Sauron seems to have been from fear and a desire to be on the winning side.

Gandalf, by contrast, never shows Luciferian pride, even when the power of becoming Gandalf the White is so intense that he is distant and even confused when he first re-encounters his friends.

I’d love to go on and talk more about the influence of the Lord of the Rings novels but, although Middle Earth is fascinating, my duties on this Earth beckon.  I’ll save my musings and questions for next time!

Talking About Colonoscopy

Reminder!  This coming weekend I’m Guest of Honor at Conduit, in Salt Lake City, Utah.  Hope to see some of you there…

A week ago, I had my first colonoscopy.  This is one of those coming-of-age rites that – like most coming-of-age rites, if you think about it – most of those subjected to it don’t really look forward to participating in.  What they want is to have it over and done with.

Prep Instructions Day by Day

In my case, though, I was sort of lucky.  Not only had Jim had the test before me, I’d been designated driver, twice, for one of our friends.  So I’d had a chance to get about as close to the procedure as you can without doing it yourself.  That actually helped.

So I decided that – even though some of  the details aren’t exactly pretty – to share what having a colonoscopy is like so that when it’s your turn, you can say, “Hey, I’ve heard it’s really not that bad.”

A colonoscopy actually starts with the prep.  This starts five days before the test with going off drugs you can’t take because they’re blood thinners.  (No worries.  You’ll be given a list.)

In my case, the only one that really affected my lifestyle was aspirin.  Aspirin is my painkiller of choice.  This spring my allergies are rampant.  Going for five days without being able to dull a headache wasn’t fun, but it was manageable.  Hot drinks do a lot for sinus headaches.

Two days before the test, certain slowly-digested foods are eliminated: nuts, seeds, and corn.  The list I was given didn’t clarify whether things like peanut butter were okay, but I decided to play it safe. I’d been thinking about making humus for our Sunday night game, but that has tahini, which is sesame paste.  This part of the prep did make me realize how many nuts and seeds are in my routine diet…

The day before the test is when the big challenge comes.  It starts with a clear liquid-only diet.  Again, you’ll be given a list.  It will include sodas like ginger ale and sprite, clear fruit juices, and chicken or beef broth.  It should also include jello and popsicles.  However, what color you get is really important.  No red.  No purple.  No blue.  No pink or orange.  However, yellow and green are fine.

Coffee and tea were included.  Yay!  I don’t take cream in my coffee, so I had no worries there.  And life with coffee is much easier.

My test was on a Tuesday, so the weekend before, Jim and I did some thoughtful shopping.  I’m not a huge fan of apple juice, but we found a nice juice blend that was light and clear and tasted more or less like peach.  We bought three boxes of jello: lemon, lime, and sour apple.

I like to cook, so I made my own chicken broth, making sure to add vegetables for flavor, but no herbs that might mar the “clear” nature.  I chilled it and removed every spec of fat (as well as the meat and the veggies, of course).  The end result had lots of flavor and even a bit of body.

The night before, I ate a snack before going to bed, hoping to stave off the inevitable blood sugar crash.

Monday morning it was tough not having chocolate with my coffee, but I substituted lime jello to pump up the sugar.  I managed to do my e-mail and even write.  The piece about toads in the pond was written then.  I had my usual Monday chat with my friend Sally and think I was at least moderately coherent.

Then late Monday afternoon came and with it the big challenge: drinking a gallon of Golytely as quickly as possible.  Again, the instructions I was given were a little vague.  They said to drink a full “glass” every twenty minutes until the stuff was gone.  They did not specify the size “glass.”

Let’s put this in perspective.  A gallon is 128 ounces.  Divided by the standard eight ounce drinking glass, that’s sixteen glasses.  Now divide that by three (as in every twenty minutes or three times an hour).  You come up with 5.33 (repeating).  Or, in other words, you’ll be at this for the next five or so hours!

I decided I wanted to be done sooner.  I did some experimenting and found I could get twelve ounces of water down pretty easily.  I marked that on a sixteen-ounce tumbler and resolved to try for at least twelve ounces, sixteen if possible.

I started at promptly at 4:00 p.m.  The Golytely tasted a bit like Gatorade: sweetish with fake lemon over salt.  I downed sixteen ounces, pressed the timer, and picked up my book.  I was reading Dune, which seemed ironically appropriate.  Twenty minute later, I downed another sixteen ounces, grabbed the timer and headed for the bathroom.

If you’ve ever read a somewhat old-fashioned novel, you’ve encountered the expression: “His bowels turned to water.”  Usually that means to experience complete, crippling terror.  No terror was experienced, but the rest is a really accurate description.  The instruction sheet had said: “…will make you go to the bathroom many times and cause diarrhea.”  That’s the understatement of the century.  This wasn’t diarrhea; it was transformation.

Because the earlier prep and liquid diet had already cleared the system out a good deal, it wasn’t even really uncomfortable.

By drinking sixteen ounces at a time, I managed to get the worst of this ordeal over in about three hours.  I found that if I drank even a little fruit juice after each glass, it took the salty-sweet taste of the Golytely away.  The bowels-to-water thing abated about an hour after the last glass of Golytely, although it didn’t go away completely for a couple more hours.

I actually began to feel a little hungry, which was both a pleasure – I no longer felt as overfull – and annoying, since the closest to something solid I could have was jello.

A few words about jello.  I’ve heard people say that they can’t eat jello after this.  I won’t go that far.  I found it a relief to be able to convince my stomach, even briefly, that it was getting filled.  One of the things I found toughest about the clear liquid diet was that so much of what was recommended was sweet.  I have a moderate sweet tooth.  I like chocolate, but usually dark.  I prefer fresh fruit to pies or jams.  For me the sour apple jello was salvation because it lacked the overt sweetness of the lemon or lime.

By bedtime, the worst of the digestive upset was over.  I wasn’t even that hungry, which surprised me.

The final ordeal was going without any liquids from midnight on.  This was a bit tough because even at night I tend to drink a lot.  (Remember, I live in a very dry climate; also, my allergy drugs contribute to a dry mouth.)  However, I wasn’t going to quit so close to the goal.

Please note…  Going without water was the final ordeal.  The actual procedure was a breeze.  Jim drove me over to the clinic.  I had gotten the earliest possible appointment and so there was no delay.  Everyone was very kind and seemed to understand that by now I had reason to be a bit muddleheaded.

I’d been worried about feeling embarrassed – especially when I learned the procedure was being done by a male doctor.  I mean, we’re indoctrinated not to let strangers see certain parts of us and this was a real violation of that taboo.  I was surprised by how I didn’t feel embarrassed at all.  This wasn’t because of cool, detached professionalism either.  Jim and I chatted with just about everyone, from the nurse trainee who was observing through the anesthesiologist and the doctor.

I think it was because everyone took for granted what was being done, so no one felt at all strange.  It’s embarrassment that causes embarrassment most of the time.

Eventually, IV in one arm, covered in nice, warm blankets (right out of the dryer), I was wheeled to the procedure room.  I felt a little weird when I realized that, although I’d never ridden on a gurney before, I felt as if I had, because a camera-eye view of such is a routine part of medical dramas on TV.

In the procedure room, a pop piece I didn’t know was playing in the background.  As it was finishing, the anesthesiologist came in…  I should clarify here that I was part of a pilot program using anesthesia rather than the more usual sedation.  As I’d never had either, I can’t really tell you how they compare.

The anesthesiologist asked me to roll onto my left side, warned me that the blood pressure cuff would tighten almost painfully, and told me she’d be starting her part as soon as the doctor was there.

David Bowie and Queen’s “Under Pressure” came on the sound system.  I was musing about the irony of that as the blood pressure cuff eased off.  I heard one of the nurses greeting the trainee nurse, reading off my name and identifying information…

And then I heard Jim’s voice.  For a brief moment, I wondered if the procedure had been called off and he was being told why.  Then I opened my eyes and realized I was in the recovery room.  Jim was talking to the nurse.  By the time they had me sitting upright, the doctor came in to tell me all had gone well.  No polyps.  Come back in ten years…

I started tearing up then.  Why?  Because there’s an alternate universe in which someone I loved didn’t die of colon cancer.  If he’d had this test…  But then, we never know.

Nothing is certain except that we can make choices…  I might get hit by a bus tomorrow, but I won’t have let fear – of embarrassment, of discomfort, of the unknown – have kept me from doing a small thing that removed one unknown.

And maybe, someday, even those who get bad news will know there are better treatment options.  That’s why I contributed a new story (“Knights Errand”) to the anthology Fantasy for Good, the full proceeds of which are donated to the Colon Cancer Alliance.

And now, when it’s your turn, you can say, “Hey.  It really isn’t so bad.  Jane says so.”  And if you’ve already had the test, don’t give into the urge to dramatize…  It really isn’t too bad – especially when you consider the alternative – is it?

Plowing through Dunes, and Jones

This week’s reading has had some odd contrasts.  On the one side Frank Herbert’s Dune.  On the other, more Diana Wynne Jones.

A reminder… The Friday Fragments feature lists of what I’ve read over the past week.  Most of the time I don’t include either short fiction or magazine articles.

Double for Dune, aka New Mexico

And I always enjoy hearing what you’re reading.  Sometimes, I then go read it myself!

The Fragments are not meant to be a recommendation list.  If you’re interested in a not-at-all-inclusive list, you can look on my website under Neat Stuff.

Once again, this is not a book review column.  It’s just a list with, maybe, a few opinions tossed in.

Recently Completed:

Eight Days of Luke by Diana Wynne Jones.  Amorality rather than immorality is brilliantly illustrated in the character of Luke.  Although technically “middle grade,” such themes – and DWJ’s usually brilliant look at the contradictions of family dynamics – makes this a book for all ages.

Earwig and the Witch by Diana Wynne Jones.  Audiobook.  This one was fun but it also seemed like the first part of a novel.  Does anyone know if there is a Part Two?

Dune by Frank Herbert.  Fifty years after its original publication, this book holds up, largely because of its brilliant world-building and sensitive characterization.  At the time it was written, the desire for “strong female characters” was hardly being discussed, but the presence of Jessica and Chani – as well as the Bene Gesserit – gives the book a modern feel.

Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto, volume 68.  Manga.  Sometimes words are the most powerful weapons.

Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert.  Set twelve years after Dune this book fails to have the same fire.  Unlike Dune, which is about beginnings, Dune Messiah focuses on endings.  Although only about half the length of the original, this one seemed much longer to me.

In Progress:

The Lives of Christopher Chant by Diana Wynne Jones.  Audiobook.  Here we get the childhood of the man who will become the powerful Chrestomanci.  Once again, Diana Wynne Jones shows she hasn’t forgotten the peculiar logic of childhood.

The Hunt for the Big Bad Wolf by E.M. Tippets.  The third book of Tippets’ series which began with Someone Else’s Fairytale finds Chloe dealing with a tough case in which someone in her office may be leaking information to Hollywood cop show.  And is being married boring by definition?

Also:

When stuck at a doctor’s office, I read several articles in Sport’s Illustrated.  Not bad writing.

TT: Lord of the Hippies

JANE: So, Alan, last time, when we were chatting about how you and Robin went to visit Hobbiton, it became evident that J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Ring” novels – as well as The Hobbit – meant a great deal to you.

I hate to admit it but, while I enjoyed them, they’ve never been among my favorite novels – not even among my favorite Fantasy novels.

Hobbit Hole, photo by Alan

I realize that this is a heretical view.  Can you tell me why you’re so crazy about those books?

ALAN: I think it’s because I was imprinted on them when I was very young. I discovered them in the school library when I was about 12 years old. This was long before the books became trendy – nobody I knew had ever heard of them – and I was at exactly the right impressionable age to be completely overwhelmed by the world of Middle Earth.

JANE: Oh!  That’s nice.  It’s always wonderful when a book is your own private discovery.  My first encounter was similar and different.  And here’s where the difference in our ages comes in!

I was also about twelve when a nosey neighbor brought over the boxed set of the novels as an excuse for snooping.  (Everyone knew Jane was an avid reader.)  However, the world of Middle Earth did not overwhelm me.  By then, there were numerous imitations and I’d read some of them.  Tolkien seemed unnecessarily fussy.  Why give each river or mountain three names?  Why not just get on with the story?!

ALAN: Oddly, I always found that to be part of the charm. It made the world of Middle Earth seem so real, so lived in.  I was already very familiar with landmarks that had multiple names (Vienna and Wien for example), and now that I live in New Zealand (or perhaps I should call it Aotearoa), I find that almost everywhere has both a Maori and an English name, which are often used interchangeably. So that kind of thing has always seemed quite natural to me.

Looking at the books now, from the other end of my life, I am willing to admit that they have flaws, but a fussiness about multiple names is not one of them. However I’m biased. That early imprinting is still in force and I still love them dearly.

JANE: The funny thing for me is that the older I get, the things that originally bugged me don’t anymore.  Rivers do have multiple names, especially when multiple cultures live in an area.  Given the long lifespans, yet essentially isolationist nature of some of the races (elves and dwarves in particular), it makes sense that different cultures have different names for the same landmarks.

ALAN: Exactly so! Perhaps I came to that understanding earlier than you did simply because of where I lived. After all, the city of York, a few miles up the road from me, was called Eboracum by the Romans, and I really can’t remember a time when I didn’t know that fact.

JANE: I think you’re right.  Places in the U.S. usually have one name.  Even when that name is rooted in an earlier culture – for example, an Indian name for a place – this contributes to a sense of constancy, rather than the other way around.

ALAN: But back to the books! I always identified closely with the mood that Tolkien evoked with his tale. Something in it just seemed right and natural. And then Donald Wolheim of Ace published the (arguably illegal) first paperback version of the books in the mid-1960s, and the sales exceeded his wildest dreams.

It seemed that my contemporaries agreed with me. The mood of the times was exactly right for Tolkien’s vision of the world. It was the so-called summer of love and the hippies adopted Tolkien as a guru. The struggle against Sauron could easily be seen as a metaphor for the anti-establishment feelings of the time. We all knew that Sauron lived in the White House. And Frodo’s essential pacifism struck a chord with the young people whose anti-war sentiments manifested themselves in protests against America’s involvement in Vietnam.

JANE: Once again, age plays a role.  In the mid-sixties, I was a very small child.  I was still in single digits when the Summer of Love came and went.  Growing up in D.C., I knew there were lots of long-haired people around who behaved oddly.  I was aware of the struggle against the “establishment,” but that was something “grown-ups” were involved in.

If anything, it seemed a bit odd to me, since both “establishment” and “anti-establishment” were grown-ups, and so were all, from my perspective, part of the same problem!

ALAN: I think you get a different view of events when you experience them for yourself.

Certainly from my point of view there was always a distinct feeling of “us” and “them” during those years. And by and large, “we” were powerless because “they” were in charge. Tolkien’s books were inspirational because they showed clearly that while individual people may be little and unimportant in the grand scheme of things, nevertheless, just like the hobbits did, they can still make a profound difference to the working of the world. Tolkien was talking to us on so many levels, and his vision of the world resonated with the zeitgeist. It was inevitable that his books would be adopted by the movement.

JANE: Again, time perspective…  I’ve met very few people who identify with hobbits.  I know lots who want to be elves or half-elves, a few who identify with dwarves, but I can’t think of a single person who has identified with hobbits.

I remember an article in a gaming magazine (most early RPGs were highly influenced by High Fantasy and especially by Tolkien) in which the writer commented, “Let’s face it.  Who would want to play a hobbit?”

After all, they’re essentially lazy and idle.  Both Bilbo and Frodo need to be forced into adventure.  Merry and Pippin are shanghaied, though they do pretty well once they get the hang of it.   Sam is different, though.  He has his feet in his garden, his head in the clouds.

ALAN: Perhaps I’m odd, but all those things seem to me to be very desirable traits to have. I identify very closely with hobbits and I can easily imagine myself living in Hobbiton and being very happy there.

JANE: Certainly, if “laziness” and “idleness” are seen as finding contentment in small achievements, like growing a good garden, or raising happy children, I agree.

Many years ago, shortly after Roger died, my dad tried to convince me to look into writing for Hollywood, as several of my NM friends were doing.  I mulled it over seriously.  Then one day, standing in my garden, hip-deep in tomato plants, listening to bees, and musing over what I’d be writing later, I realized that high-pressure, backbiting, ambitious Hollywood wasn’t for me.

So, I guess I’ve got a bit of hobbit in me, too!