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An Interview with Deborah J. Ross

Deborah J. RossDeborah J. Ross has written both fantasy and science fiction professionally since 1982 when she sold her first story to Marion Zimmer Bradley for Sword and Sorceress I. She has taught writing, led and participated in workshops, and been secretary of SFWA. Her latest goal to achieve is that of editor. I’m pleased that she was able to answer my questions about her anthology, Lace and Blade, the first imprint from the new Leda line from Norilana Books.

Why did you decide to become an editor, and why Lace and Blade?

Like many other writers, I often wondered what it was like “on the other side of the desk,” both in terms of the choice of stories and their evolution into final form. I have had the honor to work with many fine editors; I knew just how helpful a sympathetic and insightful editor can be in bringing out the best in a story. In other words, an editor is—or can be, if allowed to edit and not simply push numbers around for a multnational conglomerate—a story midwife. I also have strong ideas of what works for me in a story, what touches my heart and stirs my spirit. I want to read stories that expand my horizons, that enrich my experience of being human, that evoke a larger sense of community.

Vera Nazarian of Norilana Books approached me with the idea of editing an anthology for her, and I fell in love with her idea of elegant, witty romantic fantasy. “Lace and blade” is a term she coined for fantasy that doesn’t sacrifice intelligence for swashbuckling action. This also gave me a chance to work with some of my favorite authors.

When choosing stories for Lace and Blade what were you looking for?

Lace and Blade, edited by Deborah J. Ross

This first volume was by invitation only. To begin with, I was working on a very tight time line. The publisher wanted to release it on Valentine’s Day (how appropriate!) and by the time the details of the contract were hammered out, we all had to scurry. I contacted writers whose work I knew and admired, seasoned pros I could count on to deliver excellent stories on short notice. I also wanted to give the anthology the best chance for critical notice and, alas, that means authors with name recognition. I had very definite ideas of what I wanted, including a wide palette of settings and sensibilities, and stories in which the crisis is resolved not by violence but by compassion, insight, and understanding.

Tell us a bit about your style and philosophy when dealing with writers.

Writing is sometimes heart-wrenchingly lonely. It’s you and your doubts and the words that simply will not do what you want. When, finally, you have something that flows from your heart, and you’re at the stage of submission or revision, I think that calls for a special form of love. By this I mean respect, reverence for what both writer and editor are struggling to bring forth. We are partners and allies, not adversaries.

I’m very much a hands-on editor. I almost always ask for changes, but I’m quite open to hearing contrary opinions from my writers. Often, that discussion clarifies where what’s on the page fails to fully evoke the author’s vision. If I’m confused or get the wrong impression or simply don’t “get it,” the reader may in all likelihood have the same experience. Although I may make suggestions, I try not to tell the writer how to “fix” the problem. For one thing, I hate it when that happens to me. For another, the writer must be the final authority. I’m the second pair of educated eyes. If we come to an impasse, I have to decide if I can live with what the writer insists upon. Sometimes, then, it’s better to let the story go to another home, rather than carve the heart out of it.

How does editing differ from writing fiction? Give us a view of both sides of the experience.

Oh my goodness, everything is different—except perhaps the shared goal of the best possible creative work! As a themed-anthology editor, it’s my job to communicate my vision of the project to the writers, then cheer and encourage and appreciate. And ask for changes aimed at bringing the story more into itself, making it more effective at what the writer—not me—is trying to do. So it’s important for me to keep my ego out of the editing process.

As a writer, how did you get involved with Marion Zimmer Bradley and the Darkover series?

Somewhere around 1980, I wrote Marion a fan letter. I’d been training in martial arts (t’ai chi chu’an and kung fu san soo) and we began a conversation about empowerment, women, fantasy, writing. This was just before she began editing Sword & Sorceress, for which she bought my first professional short story. Over the years, we became friends as well as fellow writers and editor/writer. Toward the end of her life, as her health declined, we talked about working together, as senior/junior writers. She was very familiar with my work from all the stories she had edited, not only for S & S, but many of the Darkover anthologies, Spells of Wonder, and her fantasy magazine. We recognized that my natural literary voice, as well as my vision of Darkover, was very close to hers. At the time of her death, she had approved my outline for The Fall of Neskaya, and I had piles of notes for the next two books. After she died, all my work had to be approved by her Literary Trust, which holds the copyrights to Darkover, and that is still true.

What is it like to write in another author’s world? How do you explore your own individuality and still remain true to the creator’s vision?

It’s very like writing historical fiction. I do research, using not only Marion’s published work, but The Darkover Concordance and her articles in the old Darkover newsletters. Marion’s secretary, Elisabeth Waters, and Marsha Jones at DAW have been invaluable as nit-pickers and sources of arcane details.

I try to create story lines that are true to Marion’s vision of Darkover and the themes that were meaningful to her. Since I work closely with the MZB Literary Trust, I hammer out a detailed outline before I start. Once that’s approved, I turn the process over to my creative back-brain. Because I’m not trying to distort my own voice, I can then write from my heart. I trust that the footwork will lead me in the right direction and that I can flow with what comes to me.

Tell us about your original work, your short fiction in Sword and Sorceress, and your novels written under the name Deborah Wheeler. Why the name change?

My own stories are all over the place—in genre and theme, I mean, hopefully not in organization. I’m interested in a lot of different things. My first novel, Jaydium, was a science fictional romp through alternate time paths, complete with six-foot silver gastropoidal aliens. Northlight, written in France, was much softer sf, set on a lower-tech world, and more personal and emotional, at times spiritual.

My short fiction has provided me a place to “let ‘er rip,” as they say. I’ve done Star Wars stories (well, one, in Tales From Jabba’s Palace) and whimsical fantasy, vampires (funny ones in Sisters of the Night, a serious spiritual dialog between a vampire and an observant Jew in “Transfusion” in Realms of Fantasy), I’ve done kids’ stories (in several Bruce Coville anthologies), and almost-not-sf pieces about grief and obsession and courage, grim near-future dystopic sf, and epic fantasy. Wacky stuff like “Harpies Discover Sex” for Olympus. A historical fantasy based on the life of Dona Gracia Nasi and another from the Indus Valley civilization. A story for Marion in Return to Avalon, based on the history of opera. Writing down my nightmares.

I changed my name legally from Wheeler to Ross, my birth name, about the time I switched my novel career from science fiction to fantasy. Since I’ve worked in libraries (college, elementary school), I did so with some trepidation, since I believe in making librarians’ lives easier, not complicating them with name changes. But it was the right thing for me to do, both in terms of re-inventing my literary presence, and maintaining some modicum of consistency in what name I answer to.

Now that you’ve finished your first editing project, what advice do you have for new writers trying to break out of the slush pile?

Write the best damned story you can. That is, hands down, the single most important thing. Send it to appropriate markets. Know the genre!

These next suggestions won’t sell a story, but may help you learn the field: If you’re social, join the community: go to conventions or hang out with your favorite authors on sff.net or LiveJournal or their blogs. As soon as you qualify, join SFWA. Be friendly but polite to editors, because although your sterling character and nice manners won’t sell a story, they may convince an editor you’re professional and worth working with.

What’s in the future for you as an editor and a writer?

As an editor, I’m gearing up for another volume of Lace and Blade, trying to find a balance between invited stories and open submissions, wrestling with the inelasticity of type. I haven’t thought beyond continuing the anthology annually. We’ll see what temptations the universe (and my publisher) present me with.

As a writer, I have three projects on my plate, plus a handful of shorts. I turned in the first volume of my original fantasy, The Seven-Petaled Shield, and am about half way through the next part. It’s a really big canvas, with echoes of Romans and Scythian horsemen and ancient Judea. I played around with the world in a series of shorts, “Azkhantian Tales,” in S & S, and loved it so much, I wanted to spend a long, long time there. I sold it as a story in 3 volumes, but am beginning to suspect I can’t tell it in less than four.

There’s also another Darkover book in the works, a completion of a partial manuscript of Marion’s. It’s been variously called The Reluctant King and The Shadow King, but I don’t think the final title will be either of those.

In between these, I’m noodling around with a YA science fiction series, working title Sabertooth Planet, that began life about 10 years ago as a long (more than 1,000 pages!) first draft. It’s packed with cool stuff like ancient alien ruins and charismatic Pleistocene mammals like sabertooths and mammoths, with doomsday machines and whiz-kid archaeologists saving the world.

Thanks so much for inviting me to this interview. It was fun answering the questions!