Scintillation, Part Two.

Rosemary

I really didn’t quite know what to expect from a panel all about my books.

Jo did contact me first, to make sure I was okay with the whole idea.   And after I was done being gobsmacked, I shifted over to chuffed, and naturally gave my approval for the whole concept!  What’s not to like, right?

Then, at some point, I went into a sort of “Wait, what?” mode.   Was that really going to happen? 

And I remained in something like a state intellectual limbo.   Because, how would that even work?  Could it even work?  How was I going to react, on stage, with a whole panel full of people discussing my work?  Could I predict my own reaction?  Should I even try?  Was I likely to pass out cold from the sheer unbelievablity of the situation?  If so, should I bring, like, a pillow to fall down on?  You know, just in case?

Well.

I eventually reached a stable point, propped up by the facts that the panel was thought up by Jo, who I know likes my books; and included Alison Sinclair, who I know likes my books; and Cenk Cokce, who I know likes my books; and while I’d never met Liza Furr, chances were pretty strong that she was on the panel because she liked my books.  And the audience was probably there because they liked my books.  These people were not likely to be there to tear me down…

On the other hand, that did not change the sense of unreality.   This was something from the Daydream Zone.

I decided to just roll with it.  Plus: it was one panel that I did not have to prepare for beforehand.  No research required.

And how did it turn out?

Here’s the thing.

There’s one thing that a writer — or any artist, for that matter — wants more than anything.  And that is to be understood.

To know that you have reached someone, and that they have seen what you’ve done, and known what it means.  It’s a sort of doubled success: you know, from the reader understanding, that you’ve managed to communicate well and clearly; and you see, by the reader understanding, that the people you hoped existed actually are out there.  It’s encouraging and uplifting from two directions at once.

Possibly I’m speaking for myself here — but really, what artist doesn’t want that?

Fame and fortune?  Sure, it would be great.   But without that understanding, it would be pretty empty.

At that panel, I had a whole room of people who understood, and who also told me that I understood them.   They showed that they are the people for whom I wrote those books.

And when they brought up particular moments in the stories that they especially liked — it was always for the  very reasons that I’d put those moments in there.

One woman in the audience told of how glad she was about Lorren and Eamer in The Language of Power, because it’s rare that you see in fiction any depiction of people who are elderly but still so very much in love; and that’s exactly why I’d put them there.  Because people do sometimes stay in  love forever, getting old doesn’t mean it’s over.   And then her saying that she loved the closing lines of that scene — and them someone else actually quoted them to her.

And (I think it was) Alison bringing up the fact that it’s  good to see books where the central  relationship is a friendship and not a romance; and I was so glad to hear that, because that’s exactly what I wanted to get across: that friendship is a deep and wonderful relationship, and it just isn’t recognized enough in literature.

And of course, there was talk about the original turnaround in the first book — And I’m always interested in hearing from readers about at what point they “got it.”  Because that point is not the same for everyone, and the difference is  not at all linked with how intelligent you are.  It has to more to do with your expectations, your preferences, and even your hopes.

And another thing I noticed: how very kind and careful everyone was in skirting around possible spoilers for readers who haven’t gone through the whole four books.  That was so generous of people toward future readers.   In fact, the only slightly negative reaction I got was when I accidentally dropped  a spoiler for The Outskirter’s Secret.   Some gentle warning rumbles from the crowd… it was actually very gratifying that they would care so much!

I was… well, I was  overwhelmed, delighted, encouraged, heartened.

So, my thanks to Jo, to the panel, and to the audience… and all of you reading this.  Because I’m pretty sure you’re here for the same reasons that people showed up for that panel.

I’m glad you’re out there.

Tomorrow: more about the rest of the convention.

 

 

 

 

 

 


4 Responses to “Scintillation, Part Two.”

  • Lindig Says:

    I so wish I could have bee there; it sounds great! haha “gentle rumblings” haha. I think I “got it” about a third of the way through bk 1: I said outloud “wait, this is the scientific method! Neato keeno!” One of my favorite things to discuss is inductive vs deductive reasoning, and how frustrating when one style tries to explain to the other (happened to me and drove us both crazy).

  • Linda W. Says:

    It’s wonderful that you got to have this experience, and so delightful to know that Jo Walton arranged it for you! It was her review on Tor.com that led me to your books (though as I’m spoiler-phobic I didn’t read beyond her first paragraph of glowing praise, just trusted her and bought The Steerswoman straight off and got all the fun of discovery).

    Yes, we’re out here, and we’re very very glad you’re out there, too, writing books just for us. And that IS how it feels — you’ve put so many of the things I like and care about into your story that it could hardly suit me better if I’d asked for it personally. Thank you for all the work so far, and for the work to come. Wish we could ALL gather in a huuuuge auditorium someplace and give you a standing ovation!

  • Charlie B Says:

    I just want to say that I love this post.

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