A Few Thoughts on Awards

Some awards are genuine recognitions of excellence, but I think it's a waste of time and creative energy to get all bothered about those that are essentially The War of the Cliques. If I want adoration, I have a lovely dog right here who is delighted to smother me with it.

Ego strokes can be a lovely thing when you're feeling that no one reads your stories and you wonder why you are wasting your time trying. The things that matter most to me are letters from readers whose lives have been touched by my work. That feedback is better than a ton of politically-manipulated awards.

Rosemary Edghill on "Learning to Breathe Snow" in GIFTS OF DARKOVER

On a wondrous planet of telepaths and swordsmen, nonhumans and ancient mysteries, a

technologically advanced, star-faring civilization comes into inevitable conflict with one that has pursued psychic gifts and turned away from weapons of mass destruction. Darkover offers many gifts, asked for and unexpected. Those who come here, ignorant of what they will find, discover gifts outside themselves and within themselves. The door to magic swings both ways, however, and many a visitor leaves the people he encounters equally transformed.

Gifts of Darkover will be released May 5, 2015, and is now available for pre-order.

Here Rosemary Edghill chats with editor Deborah J. Ross about "Learning to Breathe Snow." 

Deborah: Tell us about your introduction to Darkover. What about the world drew you in?

Rosemary: I don't even remember the first Darkover book I read, but it was a really long time ago.  Back then, there wasn't much fantasy out there.  The closest you got was the subset of space opera stories called "Sword and Planet"-- think Leigh Brackett, Edgar Rice Burroughs, and Anne McCaffrey (whose "Pern" novels totally qualifiy).  I think Marion  Zimmer Bradley's Darkover series was her way of writing fantasy at a time when fantasy was impossible to sell: there's no true magic on Darkover, frex, and the Darkovans are all lost colonists.  So I loved the series for the sense of a huge history and prehistory that it had, and for the swashbuckling adventures.

The other thing about Darkover was that it used to be very fan-friendly, so there was the Darkover Newsletter, and a bunch of Free Amazon groups, and of course all the Darkover fanzines.  I was very much involved in fandom and fanzines, and a friend of mine was both a fanzine publisher and a member of a Free Amazon group.  So that really deepened my interest and involvement with Darkover, long before I sold my first professional work.

Deborah: What do you see as the future of Darkover?

Thunderlord snippet - Useful Knowledge

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 10

“There you are! Good morning!” Kyria emerged from behind one of the larger trees. Her cheeks and nose were red, the healthy glow of exercise in cold air. She’d bound her skirts to her legs with strips of cloth, and she moved with assurance. She carried an armful of sticks of various lengths and thicknesses.

“You’re looking much better!” She shoved the wood into Edric’s hands and bent to inspect the roasting meat.

A short time later, both of them were sitting on the insulated ground, contentedly chewing on the bones. Kyria had packed the water skins with snow the night before, and it had melted, leaving delicious-tasting water.

“How did you do all this?” Edric gestured to the fire and the remains of their meal. “And how did you know to make a shelter?”

“My younger brother Rakhal taught me trapping, and I picked up the rest along the way. We used to trap game all winter, when food supplies ran thin. Father was furious when he found out I kept doing it after my brother went…left home. But really, why should it make a difference if I wear skirts or breeches at home? The traps work just as well and people have to eat! I do confess that I borrowed your knife, the one in your boot.” She slipped it out from the top of her own boot and offered it, hilt first, to him.

“You’d best keep it for the time being,” he murmured, more than a little impressed.

I owe you my life.

And I owe you mine, he imagined her saying.

Deborah Hangs Out - Summary and Video!

I had a lot of fun on Juliette Wade's "Dive Into WorldBuilding" hangout. It was great to have a chance to talk about The Seven-Petaled Shield...and a bit strange to see myself on video. Here I am!

We were very fortunate to be joined by author Deborah J. Ross, who came to talk to us about her wonderful trilogy, The Seven-Petaled Shield. She told us that it was inspired by an exhibit of Scythian art that she saw, and was a way for her to branch out beyond the tired tropes of pseudo-Celtic and Western European fantasy.

The Scythians were nomadic horse-riders in the central Asian steppe. They had shamans called enarees who, among other duties, would be asked to test the truthfulness of any charges brought against someone in their community. Enarees were men who wore woman's clothing and occupied a cultural niche in between the men's world and the women's world. One fascinating thing about them was that they kept the Romans at bay for hundreds of years.

Deborah began by writing four short stories set in a fantasy version of the Scythian world, known as Azkhantia. She wanted to write a novel, and found the right additional axis of tension when she realized she's referred to a place called Meklavar as "where witches dwell." She then expanded Meklavar into a society based on very ancient Judea. The Meklavarans have a very old written scripture, and literacy is very important to them, as is the knowledge of languages. Any given Meklavaran will typically know 3 or 4 modern languages and 2 extinct ones. Their magic is based in the scriptural stories.

Margaret L. Carter on "Hidden Gifts" in GIFTS OF DARKOVER

On a wondrous planet of telepaths and swordsmen, nonhumans and ancient mysteries, a

technologically advanced, star-faring civilization comes into inevitable conflict with one that has pursued psychic gifts and turned away from weapons of mass destruction. Darkover offers many gifts, asked for and unexpected. Those who come here, ignorant of what they will find, discover gifts outside themselves and within themselves. The door to magic swings both ways, however, and many a visitor leaves the people he encounters equally transformed.

Gifts of Darkover will be released May 5, 2015, and is now available for pre-order.

Here Margaret L. Carter answers questions on her story, "Hidden Gifts."

Tell us about your introduction to Darkover. What about the world drew you in?

 The first Darkover book I ever read was The Bloody Sun (the original edition), and I was enthralled by it. At the time, I didn’t know it was part of a series. That novel makes an excellent introduction for a reader because it’s told from the viewpoint of an outsider. (Even though the protagonist spent his childhood on Darkover, he thinks of himself as Terran and is learning about the world almost from scratch.) I love the motif of a character who uncovers buried secrets about his own past and unsuspected truths about his own nature and talents. Later I picked up the first anthology, The Keeper’s Price, which presupposes a lot of knowledge about the setting, but I was intrigued rather than confused. The handling of culture clash in the series fascinated me, and when I read The Shattered Chain, I was completely drawn in.

What inspired your story in Gifts of Darkover?

 The guidelines for Darkover stories often mention “unusual use of laran." I wanted to do something with one of the most unusual laran phenomena, teleportation, which (I think) is shown in the novels only in the context of matrix work. What experience might make a person unaware of the extent of her power desperate enough to perform such an act on her own? For a protagonist, I chose one of my favorite character types, the “Ugly Duckling” who discovers her “swan” traits only when pushed to her limits. In a way, this story echoes my first Darkover tale, "Her Own Blood” (in Free Amazons Of Darkover), which also features a nedestra heroine discovering her laran.

Thunderlord snippet - Temptation

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 9

Luck rode with them, for when they reached the main track, they saw no sign of their pursuers. Without any need for speech, as if they had one thought, they urged their horses into a rough, ground-eating trot. Edric had already traveled this section of trail twice before, but now he counted every minute, every hoofbeat. The wind fell away, and the air, which had been growing progressively more chill, turned milder, but he was not lulled into believing the clouds would dissipate. This was the pause as the storm gathered force.

“There!” Edric broke his silence to indicate the crossroads, now only a short distance away. The side trail was but minutes away….

Clouds darkened the sky. The air tasted of lightning to come.

Closer, now…Kyria on his heels, the pack horse’s gait jarring his bones… He could see the flat place where they’d camped and the main road leading down and away, curving around the shoulder of the hill --

\

Two riders emerged from behind the hill, followed by three more.

Behind Edric, Kyria let out a cry of dismay. Edric hauled on the reins. The pack horse resisted, dipping its head. Kyria’s horse crowded its rump and it threatened to kick. Edric jerked the horse’s head up, trying to think. They had enough room to turn around, but this trail would only lead them back to the fortress.

They hadn’t been spotted, not yet.

He glanced up at the clouds, denser now and laden with promise. The wind picked up again. Use me, pleaded the storm. I am yours for the taking, all the power of wind and lightning….

Something inside Edric yearned to answer the storm, to seize control of it. He had the power to save both of them, to save Kyria, and all he had to do was reach out with his mind. Use his Gift, as he had been born to do….

Jane M. H. Bigelow on "Healing Pain" in GIFTS OF DARKOVER

On a wondrous planet of telepaths and swordsmen, nonhumans and ancient mysteries, a technologically advanced, star-faring civilization comes into inevitable conflict with one that has pursued psychic gifts and turned away from weapons of mass destruction. Darkover offers many gifts, asked for and unexpected. Those who come here, ignorant of what they will find, discover gifts outside themselves and within themselves. The door to magic swings both ways, however, and many a visitor leaves the people he encounters equally transformed. Gifts of Darkover will be released May 5, 2015, and is now available for pre-order.

Jane M. H. Bigelow talks about her story, “Healing Pain.”  

So many different things drew me into the world of Darkover that it’s hard to decide what came first. I think I may have started with The Spell Sword; I know I read it early on, and Andrew Carr’s adventures make  a wonderful introduction to the world. The rich detail of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s world, the fascinating paranormal powers that some people there had, the clash of cultures between Darkovan and Terran societies: I loved it all. I first found the books when I was working at a back-office job in a brokerage, and Darkover had the excitement and big questions that my daily life noticeably lacked. Life’s become more interesting since then, but I’m still hooked on Darkover.
That cultural clash inspired my story. What happens when someone wants the best of both worlds, not just for themselves, but for their people? Taniquel’s father might have lived if the people around him had been able to combine Terran and Darkovan medical knowledge instead of each fearing and discounting the other’s resources. Taniquel also must deal with a question that transcends cultures: How do you rebel effectively against people who genuinely, but mistakenly, believe that they have your best interests at heart? People whom you respect, like, and even love?

Thunderlord snippet - Making Contact

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 8

Once more, Edric focused on his starstone. This time, instead of imagining the wide area of the valley and the trail rising beyond it, he shaped his mental probe like a spear aimed at the top of the promontory. For a long moment, he felt nothing. He might as well be trying to contact a star on the other side of the galaxy. Then he felt – heard – something, low and monotone, rough-textured but straight – stone! Shaped stones!

From time to time, Edric had taken his place in matrix circles tasked with mining metals and other minerals from deep within the earth. He knew how to penetrate layers of rock for what lay beneath, although he had always been part of a team, minds joined through the skill of their Keeper, bodies safeguarded by their monitor. Still, he remembered how it had felt in his mind to pass through rock as if it were water, moving between the tiny particles.

Gently, gently now, he cautioned himself. These walls were much thinner than the sheets of rock he had worked through in the Tower.

The next instant, he was through. Instead of the density and mineral taste of stone, he touched the diffuse lightness of air, punctuated by the tangled nets of brightness that marked living people. Were it not for the distance and his own imperfect skill, he might have been able to determine their numbers and locations within the fortress.

Elation blurred his senses for a moment before he wrestled his emotions back under control. Pride, stupid pride had all but destroyed not only his own Aldaran but Scathfell as well, only a generation ago. He must never forget that.

Once more calm, he shifted ever so slightly, shaping a mental call: Kyria!

At first, there was no answer, only the near-emptiness of air, the anonymous knots of brightness…and then he felt glimmer of something more, an imprint of her distinct personality, like a spill of candlelight in a moonless night. He’d sensed her laran before, uncertain and untrained. Now doubt evaporated as he let go the last of his barriers. In some ways, the contact resembled gazing into a distant, oblique mirror of his own mind, yet she was distinctly feminine…strong-willed and clinging to both strength and will to fend off the terror that coiled tighter and tighter around her…

I’m here! You’re not alone!

Deborah Dives Into World-Building

I'll be the featured author on Wednesday's "Dive Into World-Building" hangout, hosted by Juliette Wade. I'll be talking about how I created the world of The Seven-Petaled Shield, especially the languages. And anything else you want to know!

Wednesday March 11, 3:00 pm PDT.


It's easy to join from your Google+ account. From your own home page, type the message under "Share What's New" and send it to Juliette Wade. She'll send you an invitation (and will post the URL once the hangout has begun).

If you don't have a Google+ account, you'll be able to view the hangout and read a summary at a later time. I'll post links to that.

Hope to see many of you there!

Thunderlord snippet - Taking A Rest

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 7

They went slowly, for the horses were still fatigued from the long, hard climb the day before. The trail dipped, less steeply now, winding as it followed the contour of the mountainside. The land here was still rugged, but from time to time, glimpses revealed softly-rounded hills covered with forest and open meadows that marked the sites of fires from years ago. The trail widened, but did not branch. Edric began to worry that they would have gone too far before he found a credible excuse for leaving the company. He was relieved when Francisco called a halt in a little open space, a crossroads of sorts. To each side, patches of hardy mountain grasses grew between clumps of low, wind-twisted brush. Two smaller paths diverged from the main road, but neither showed any sign of recent traffic.

“We’ll rest here and let the horses forage,” the captain said, dismounting.

“But should we not press on?” came Dom Ruyven’s plaintive voice. “The day is still fine – why do we tarry?”

“My lord, the horses have been working hard on short rations. If we wish them to carry us all the way to — to our destination, we must allow them to recover their strength.” Without waiting for an answer, Francisco set about loosening his girth, hobbling his horse, and slipping off the bridle. His men proceeded to do the same, as did Alayna, who jumped down without any help. 

Edric, having left his own horse to browse, walked over to where Alayna had spread her cloak on a flat stone and sat, face tilted to the sun, eyes closed. Francisco had set up rotation of sentry duty, taking one of the first positions himself, and Dom Ruyven was nowhere to be seen, presumably attending to private matters behind one of the taller bushes.

“How fare you, damisela?” Edric asked, relieved to see the color in her cheeks. 

“In body, much better now that we are over the pass,” she answered. “In mind…there is no help for it, is there? I cannot rescue my sister, although she certainly would come after me, were our positions reversed. It is so unfair! You see what terrible manners I have – it is all her fault, you know, and she would tease me for saying so. There! There is your proof that I’m doing better, for I would not have prattled such nonsense a day ago.”

“No, I don’t think you would have.”

“Will you not sit beside me? The sun is very pleasant, although tonight is likely to be just as cold as before.”

Edric could not restrain himself from grinning. “I hardly think your guardian would approve.” He sat down.