An Interview with M. K. Hobson

M. K. Hobson’s short fiction has been well-received for some time now. Her stories have appeared in Realms of Fantasy, SCI FICTION, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Interzone, and Strange Horizons, to name just a few. Her two novels, The Native Star and The Desired Poison are forthcoming from Bantam Spectra. She lives in Oregon City, Oregon with her husband, daughter, two extremely self-interested cats, and a five-month old lab puppy who finds it all very confusing! By day, she is a Chief Marketing Officer for a health care communications company headquartered in NYC, and has also owned a newspaper, driven night-shift taxi, read tarot professionally, and taught conversational English in Japan. Readers can keep up with Mary’s exciting adventures at her website (demimonde.com) or her blog (mkhobson.livejournal.com). I am pleased that Mary was able to answer a few of my questions for The Fix.

Do you write when the muse strikes you or do you have a set schedule?

I’m awfully envious of writers who have the discipline to complete a specific writing goal each and every day. It seems quite a sane and sober approach. I, on the other hand, write like a drunkard. I’m a binge writer. When I’m in my cups (so to speak), I will write until I’m exhausted, dream about the story amidst fitful tossings, sleep-scribble half-lucid inspirations in the middle of the night, and bolt out of bed before sunrise to get my fingers onto the damn keyboard. I go on a writing bender, and like any other bender, it can wring one out. That’s why I have focused on short fiction over the past few years. A short story is like a night out at the bar—a couple of aspirin and a glass of water and I’m fine the next day. I get into a novel, and suddenly I’m Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas.

Your story in SCI FICTION, “Hell Notes,” was the one that put you on the map, so to speak. This is a very funny story. What were your expectations to the attention it received?

My experience with “Hell Notes” was illustrative in many ways. First off, I didn’t think of it as a SCI FICTION kind of story. Really, I sent it to see what kind of response it might elicit (e.g., “Some good writing here, but you lost me at the sautéed eyeballs.”) Imagine my surprise when Ellen [Datlow] actually bought it. That taught me that even when I think I have an editor figured out, I don’t. And trying to second-guess a market can cause you to lose fantastic opportunities.

I was also surprised at how much serious attention it got. I’d always assumed that readers and reviewers would settle for nothing less than lyrical flights of heroic poetry with sparkles on, and that my affinity for writing black comedy meant I was resigned to the circle of literary purgatory reserved for mimes and balloon-animal artists. The success of “Hell Notes” boosted my confidence in the validity of writing what I wanted to write, not what I thought I should write.

Finally, the story taught me the value of secondary markets. After its initial publication I resold it to Escape Pod (where it had great success) and just recently I resold it to Nancy Fulda’s Anthology Builder (where it’s been my most-purchased story on that platform.) Much of the story’s recognition has come from these subsequent sales.

“The Hotel Astarte,” which appeared in Realms of Fantasy, is on the Preliminary Nebula Ballot for 2009. It has received quite a bit of notice for its uniqueness of style and storytelling. I see it as a symbolic allegory that uses fantasy tropes to show cultural differences in a bygone era of America, the early 20th century, as well as the loss of innocence of the changing times. What are your thoughts on this and what led to the crafting of this story?

More than anything, I was fascinated by the idea of literalizing the heroic metaphors that have classically been applied to “America”—the fair-haired goddesses of fecundity, Fourth-of-July bandboxes, gritty New York backstreets and corrupt Wall Street tycoons. These are the symbols, the metaphors, the dreams commonly accepted as our national mythos. I wanted to stylize them in order to analyze them. I may not have been entirely successful—one online commenter who reviewed the podcast version commented that it’s “…the America whose destiny is and always was manifest, and who owes nothing to the Americans who lived before colonization or who brought for the purpose of servitude” and opined that the mythology actively harmful for that reason. I think that criticism, while valid and insightful, misses the point. Literalizing the mythologies was not a dodge to approach them in an unreconstructed fashion—it was, in fact, my way of problematizing them.

You write mostly fantasy. What is it about the genre that appeals to you?

You know, I’m a busy girl. I don’t have time to explain why a particular technology works or doesn’t work. And who wants to stretch their brain figuring out ways to make the MacGuffin believable? Not me. I just want to wave my wand, say “poof!” and move on. Laziness aside, I find fantastical elements indispensable in constructing metaphor or delivering allusion—with them, one can create hugely powerful literary effects in an incredibly compact way. Fantasy elements are like pieces of glass that have been polished by our collective unconscious. There’s no rough edges on them, no ambiguity. When you hear “unicorn” (if you’re from a western tradition), you likely associate it immediately with “virgin” and “purity”—without the writer having to do a thing! So instead of having to write five thousand words about virginity and purity, I throw a unicorn in there, and the reader goes, “ah! I get it!”

The kind of fantasy stories I aspire to write are stories like Saki’s “Sredni Vashtar” or Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray or James Thurber’s “Unicorn in the Garden”—stories in which supernatural creatures and events are used for symbolic or thematic effect, rather than to indulge a reader’s desire for escapism.

Who are a few of your favorite writers who have influenced you in terms of craft and technique?

I love the clean, vigorous prose of mid-century writers like Sinclair Lewis and Raymond Chandler and Joseph Mitchell. P. G. Wodehouse, Dorothy Parker, James Thurber, and Woody Allen have all mastered an art I hope to perfect—the ability to make a reader laugh out loud without feeling silly. When it comes to historical fiction, Gore Vidal is my beau ideal, with Diana Gabaldon right behind him, breathing down his neck. Finally, I think Margaret Atwood does a beautiful job of bringing a sense of the fantastic into everything she writes, without getting too obvious about it.

What about genre writers?

Max Barry and Eliot Fintushel—I’m rarely disappointed by either of them. I’ve been on a book-buying spree at conventions recently, grabbing Ekaterina Sedia’s The Alchemy of Stone and The Secret History of Moscow—both exceptionally powerful. I’m also enjoying Barth Anderson’s new one, The Magician and the Fool. Going back a bit, I recall that Lucius Shepard’s A Handbook of American Prayer knocked me flat with its wonderfulness.

As for short fiction, I’ve been dipping into Steven Utley’s The Beasts of Love collection from Wheatland. Great stuff. I’m looking forward to reading more by Jessica Reisman, whose stories have a lyrical delicacy that always pleases me. I have a special affinity for the whole Clarion West class of 2005—Heather Linsley’s story “Mayfly” is still with me long after its publication in Strange Horizons, Cat Rambo has blown my mind on several occasions…not to mention Rachel Swirsky, Ann Leckie, E.C. Meyers, Misha DiNola, Ada Milenkovic Brown, James Trimarco, and Katherine Sparrow. If I had gone to Clarion, that would be the year I would have wanted to have gone.

And last but not least, I really admire the work of my good friend and Diet Soap co-editor Douglas Lain—his fiction is subtle and surreal, and perfectly tempered with dry wit.

Speaking of Doug Lain and the “surrealist/anarchist” ‘zine Diet Soap, what brought that about and can you tell us a bit about what you’re looking to publish?

Our idea is to publish work that tickles our fancy, that challenges the dominant paradigm, that is political and silly and troubling and opaque and brilliant. Much of Diet Soap’s “zing” comes from the fact that Doug and I are so different politically—he’s a godless commie pinko, and I’m an unapologetic capitalist swine—and we love to debate each other. Somewhere out of the arm-waving and chair-throwing, a ‘zine emerges.

What are your hobbies and interests outside of writing?

I’m a reality show junkie. Pretty much any show Bravo puts on the air, I will eat up with a spoon and ask for seconds. They put on a competitive hairdressing show, for heaven’s sake, and I was glued to the set. It’s really shameful.

What’s in the future for you? Goals? Aspirations?

Well, as you mentioned in your intro, I recently sold two novels, The Native Star and The Desired Poison to Bantam Spectra. The first book is scheduled to come out in spring of 2010. They’re a duology, a historical fantasy romance set in mid-19th century America. The big idea I’m playing with is the concept of “marketing” as “magic”—my magic system is based on the idea that advertising and propaganda not only have the ability to shape public perception, they have the very real magical ability to alter reality. Thus, while I’m starting in the 19th century (where our mass-media culture really began), I hope the books will be popular enough that I can expand the series and follow this magical conceit through to the present day.

As for the future? I’m working on new novels, new short stories, and several other tantalizing and exciting projects. All while raising a family, holding down a job, trying to unconfuse my new puppy, and fighting crime. Never a dull moment!