Janet Burroway

Janet Burroway, the author of Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft, has written eight previous novels, as well as a memoir, plays, short fiction, children’s books, and more. Recipient of the Florida Humanities Council’s Lifetime Achievement Award in Writing, she is Robert O. Lawton Distinguished Professor Emerita at Florida State University at Tallahassee.

Burroway's latest novel is Simone in Pieces.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

Simone in Pieces both describes the heroine’s plight and offers the reader a clue to how to read the novel. Simone has lost her childhood memory in a traumatic war rescue, and must reconstruct a self as herself-from-now-on. Mostly, like all of us, she takes from her encounters with others what she wants and needs to make herself a fulfilled person. The novel uses many points of view, so readers take from each voice what they feel and need from it. My fear about the title was that some might think it meant only “she’s all to pieces” emotionally. Certainly that cliché often applies to Simone, but the emphasis is on the remaking and its complexity. Simone is an “opsimath”—one who begins learning late in life, including learning about her early past.

What's in a name?

Simone’s last name, Lerrante, as she observes, seems to mean “wanderer,” like a knight errant, or else a “mistake making,” someone who makes errors. But the word does not appear “in any language I know.” Simone has been teased for a tendency to look things up, and she’s clearly been hitting the etymological dictionary here, though she’s being a bit literal about it all. I remember reading in some college text that Miguel de Unamuno’s last name had this quirky nature, clearly meaning “one world,” and yet not. This piece of lit trivia stuck with me, and it seemed to suggest the here-but-not-here basis of Simone’s plight. Leo’s last name, Aczél, sounds like an axle in English, though not in his native Hungarian. For Simone, he functions to turn the wheels of her divorce, her move across the country, and so her eventual discovery of her past.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

I have no idea. When I think about the books I loved between 13 and 19, I’m all over the place: Sylvia Seaman’s girl detectives, John Hersey’s Hiroshima; Hurlbut’s Stories of the Bible, Shakespeare’s tragedies, Emily Dickinson and Phyllis McGinley, Aeschylus and Edgar Guest, Boethius and Salinger. I had no taste, just hunger, and the desire to imitate that is the beginning of ambition. As for Simone in Pieces, I might have been surprised—and maybe impatient—with the premise. I remember that in the fifties we were from time to time advised to “just be yourself.” This made no sense to me. How could you be anybody else than yourself? I had no doubt who I was! However, I was largely wrong. And at 89 I am still in pursuit of knowing who I am.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Beginnings usually come fairly quickly: here’s the situation that interests me—but are then very hard to get right. For Simone, I had a folder with 43 versions of the opening scene. I started it in Simone’s voice, as she remembers the boat that carried her from the Belgian coast to England. It did not sit right. I did it over and over, frustrated, until I finally realized that it could not be from her point of view because she did not remember it. Then whose voice should it be? I had established a woman who wrapped Simone in a blanket. Perhaps she was remembering the event. But who was she? Why was she there? And why would she be telling about it…? At that point it didn’t occur to me that most of Simone’s story would have to be told in other voices than Simone’s, only gradually coming closer to her as she—and the reader—figure out who she is. But it happened again and again that I would start in Simone’s voice and then feel a strong need to shift to someone else’s perspective.

I usually write the ending before I get there. I can’t explain why this happens, but at some point the concentration and obsession of the writing grab me with what I can only call inspiration, and that last scene reveals itself to me. Often this happens also with the crucial or most dramatic scenes along the way. I will get on a plane, or hang my coat in a hotel room, or take a cold January walk, and suddenly the event is spread before me, the language is tapping out in my head. I just have to be in, or get to, a quiet place to jot it down.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

I don’t believe in the “world apart.” I believe that all writing, fiction or nonfiction, poetry or prose, consists of three things: autobiography, observation, and invention. The most determinedly factual account still represents the writer’s choices, some evident and some that lie deep in the unconscious. My characters have many personal sources, most of which you would, from my biography, fail to identify. There may be a moment from my past that just fits here (like my memory of Unamuno’s name), though you would never guess whether, when or why such a thing came from my past. In most ways Simone is very unlike me: I was not in a war, not a refugee, suffered no traumatic event in childhood, did not lose my memory, and found my métier before I was twenty. Simone lives in several places I have lived--that helped me re-create them for my purposes--and also several places I have not, which made for a lot of research. I went to Liege and walked the streets for a week, choosing the things that had mattered to Simone’s childhood. I invented Jepson College from snippets of places I have been to give readings. I felt I had the right to write from the point of view of immigrants from World War Two because I have been married to two of them, one from Flanders and one from rural Hungary, and because my two mothers-in-law were forthcoming about their lives and losses as refugees. One of those mothers-in-law was named Simone. My Simone is nothing like her, but Mrs. Puig is. My father never owned a gas station, but the proprietor of Lovelock, Nevada speaks in his voice. And so forth. More important to me than what is autobiographical and what is not, are mini-images that reflect the book’s larger metaphor, in this case images of things that must be made whole out of small pieces: mosaic, montage, jigsaw puzzles, memory.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Often the situation of the book begins with an event I have heard about or observed. I know, for example, that the sight of a young woman’s father sharing a peach with her lover’s wife sparked my second novel, The Dancer from the Dance (which was reissued this year), though that image didn’t end up in the book. My mother’s childhood was spent in a marble camp in Arizona, and her stories, together with the overwhelming sight of that quarry when I finally saw it, and where I spread her ashes, formed the basis of Cutting Stone. I spent several years as a costume designer, and drew heavily on those years for both the fabric industry in Raw Silk and the backstage dressmaking of Opening Nights. The industrial research of those books sparked an interest in the paper industry, so I spent many hours with the powerful machines in cavernous sheds for Bridge of Sand. Most obviously, I spent thirty years teaching and loving teaching, and that has informed Descend Again, Eyes, Simone in Pieces, many if not most of my short stories, and both of my craft books, Writing Fiction and Imaginative Writing.

Visit Janet Burroway's website.

The Page 69 Test: Bridge of Sand.

The Page 69 Test: Simone in Pieces.

--Marshal Zeringue

Madeleine Dunnigan

Madeleine Dunnigan is a writer and screenwriter from London. She was a Jill Davis Fellow on the MFA at New York University. While there she was awarded a GRI Fellowship in Paris.

Dunnigan's new novel is Jean.

My Q&A with the author:

What's in a name?

I knew Jean’s name early on. Jean’s mother is a German Jewish refugee and a francophile. I knew Jean’s name needed to be French because of this; I also knew it needed to complicate his identity as an English teenage boy.

In French, ‘Jean’ is a boy’s name; in English, we would use ‘Gene’ for a boy and ‘Jean’ for a girl. This subtle difference, although not pressed upon in the novel, was essential to the crafting of his character. From birth, he feels like an outsider. To others, there is something mysterious and foreign about him.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

Although I always harboured creative aspirations, as a teenager I found the idea of spending hours alone, writing, unbearable. I wanted to be with people all the time. The fact that I wrote a novel at all would certainly surprise my teenage self; and that it was this kind of novel, so different from my own life, would shock her even more.

And yet, it was novels like Le Grand Meaulnes that kept me awake reading at night as a teenager: novels about teenage angst and lost love, which is what Jean attempts to capture.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Honestly, both were obscure to me for a long time. Once I had the contained setting of my novel, and had cut away much of the extraneous extra material, they became much clearer.

Having said that, I rewrote the ending several times: I knew where I needed to get to, but how I would get there – what exactly Jean said, how he reacted, what he felt – was unclear to me. Plotting the emotional journey of a character so that what he ends up doing feels inevitable rather than dramatic was a big challenge.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

At a first glance, Jean and I could not be more different. Jean is a seventeen-year-old boy in 1976; I am a thirty-three-year old woman in 2026. He is tall and blond with blue eyes; I have dark hair and dark eyes. He grew up in West London; I, in East London. He is violent and antisocial, school has always been a challenge, as have social relationships; I have spent most of my life in educational institutions.

But I feel deeply, emotionally connected to him. As a writer I return again and again to my adolescence. Although very different from Jean’s, what I remember most is the overwhelming rage, the powerful desire and the unbridled freedom. It is this that links us together: the shared experience of the intensity of being a teenager.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Having not grown up in the seventies, I spent a long time researching Jean. I listened to Sex Pistols, The Slits, The Clash. Reggae and ska were also big influences. I watched punk-era documentaries and the work of Don Letts, and I scoured photo books of the era, looking for clues.

Jean’s mother, Rosa, is an artist. I looked at the influences that inspired her work, Rembrandt and Cezanne, alongside children’s illustrators of the era.

Then there were the films. Gorgeous love stories like Call Me By Your Name and rural escapes like God’s Own Country. I drowned myself in Bruce Lee’s films, like Enter the Dragon, and films from the seventies like Clockwork Orange and Star Wars.

Visit Madeleine Dunnigan's website.

My Book, The Movie: Jean.

The Page 69 Test: Jean.

Writers Read: Madeleine Dunnigan.

--Marshal Zeringue

Michael Idov

Michael Idov is a novelist, director, and screenwriter. A Latvian-born American raised in Riga under Soviet occupation, he moved to New York after graduating from the University of Michigan.

Idov’s writing career began at New York Magazine, where his features won three National Magazine Awards. His first book, 2009’s satirical novel Ground Up, sold over 100,000 copies worldwide and was optioned for a series by HBO. From 2012 to 2014, he was the editor-in-chief of GQ Russia, an experience that became the basis for his 2018 memoir Dressed Up for a Riot.

In addition to spy novels The Collaborators (2024) and The Cormorant Hunt (2026), Idov has worked on numerous film and TV projects, including Londongrad, Deutschland 83, Cannes Main Competition title Leto, and his own 2019 directing debut The Humorist. He and his wife and screenwriting partner, Lily, divide their time between Los Angeles, Berlin, and Portugal.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

None. I should be completely honest about this. The editing notes I receive on the Cormorant Trilogy are mercifully light; in return, I pretty much let the publisher title the books for me. It's probably wise, too, because I'm terrible at it. I had originally designed a whole convention where all three titles would be these ambiguously German/Russian K-words. The first novel would be called Kosmopolit, the second Konservator, etc. Then I was gently reminded that the people buying the book at a store should, as a rule, be able to pronounce its title.

That said, I did mount a brief campaign to call this one Gray Actors: a political term for people or institutions with unclear or complicated intentions, which describes its plot pretty well. But The Cormorant Hunt is snappier, and retains some of the same ambiguity because it's the character named Cormorant who's doing the hunting.

What's in a name?

Glad you asked. I am obsessed with character names and the information they communicate to the astute reader: age, class, education level. I have once written a whole essay in the New York Times about how difficult and important it is to nail the names outside of your own culture. (In The Cormorant Hunt, there is a German politician named Florian Reschke; when I asked on Threads whether this sounds okay, the post unexpectedly went viral, because Germans are rightfully sick of every Anglophone writer giving their compatriots names like Hans Schultz and Dieter Schmidt).

Ironically, it took me seconds to land on "Ari Falk" for my main character. I remember I wanted his name to be short, to honor the Jason Bourne / Jack Ryan tradition, but clearly Jewish, to subvert it a bit. And it was literally the first thing that came to mind. Since he's more of an investigator than an action guy, I like that "Falk" might bring to mind Columbo, but I wasn't conscious of it at the time.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?

Extremely, because my teenage self was an insufferable snob. It took me decades of experience to realize that "genre" — be it horror, sci-fi, or the spy thriller — is a concrete foundation upon which you can build anything you want. All it does is ensure that the building won't collapse under a light breeze. That's why The Cormorant Hunt, a "genre" book, contains much more of my actual worldview, my personal concerns and terrors, than the stuff I was writing when I was trying to be the next Nabokov.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

I always know the ending going in. The beginnings are harder. To be frank, I got a little too much praise for the opening scene of my previous book, which was basically a recreation of the so-called "RyanAir incident" from 2021: a flight from Athens to Vilnius was forced down in Belarusian airspace, just so the authorities could grab a dissident blogger who was on board. You can't lose with an opening gambit like that, but it's hard to take full credit for it. So, for this one, I felt some pressure to outdo myself. The prologue I ended up with is based on a similarly real but unpublicized story, of a friend fleeing Russia on foot in 2022. I don't know if it's as exciting as looking out a plane's window and seeing a MIG hovering nearby, but I'm proud of its authenticity and how it turned out.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

I am not exactly miles removed from Falk, a Slavic lit major who ended up in intelligence to pay off his college-loan obligations. He even has my tennis injury (a repaired Achilles' tendon). In The Cormorant Hunt, however, I tried something else: I gave my own biography to the book's antagonist, men's-rights guru Felix Burnham. It was interesting to see if my immigration experience, and years of relative loneliness that followed, could fuel a villain's origin story. So it's the bad guy who's me, in a there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I sense.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Almost all of the inspirations behind the Cormorant books come from the real world. The Collaborators was written at the onset of the war in Ukraine, when the biggest question in the world seemed to be "what made Russia turn fascist, and is the U.S. partly culpable?" Under all the action, the book was essentially my attempt to answer that.

Similarly, The Cormorant Hunt is set in 2024, just before Trump 2.0. Its main inspiration comes from observing the distinctly male rage against the post-WWII world order: what drives it, who is stoking it, why? I had to research "men's rights" ideologues of every stripe, neo-Nazis, the Reichsbürger, green extremists, and last but not least the role Russian money plays in empowering all these groups. As a process, it was not fun — but I hope the result is.

Visit Michael Idov's website.

Writers Read: Michael Idov (October 2009).

--Marshal Zeringue

Carrie Classon

Carrie Classon is a performer and a nationally syndicated columnist with Andrews McMeel Universal. Born in Minnesota, she had a fourteen-year career in theater, performing in dozens of shows from Oregon to Maine. After founding and running a professional Equity theater for seven years, Classon earned her MBA and began working in international business. She also holds an MFA in creative writing from the University of New Mexico and has written a memoir and over six hundred columns.

In her 600-word weekly column, The Postscript, Classon writes about the transformative power of optimism and how to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. She champions the idea that it's never too late to reinvent our lives in unexpected and fulfilling ways. She performs a live show based on her writing—with lots of sequins. With her husband, Peter, and former street cat Felix, Classon splits her time between St. Paul, Minnesota, and San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.

Her debut novel is Loon Point.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

Loon Point is my first novel, so other than my weekly syndicated column, I have no name recognition as a writer, and I wanted something both memorable and not overly used. Neither my agent nor my publisher had any issues with it or other suggestions.

“Loon” conjures up wilderness for most people, and that is a good image to begin with. “Point” implies a small place, and that is also accurate. Loon Point deals with the lives of a middle-aged woman, an older man, and a young girl all living in the Northwoods and their various brands of loneliness, so I think beginning with their shared location makes sense.

What’s in a name?

I seem to have two types of character names: the ones that show up with the characters that I seem to have no choice about, and the ones I must name. I much prefer the former.

In this book, Wendell was named early and as a close echo of the name of the real person (Wally) who inspired him. Lizzie came, fully named, as did her dog, Mr. Benson (it took me a little while to figure out why the dog deserved the honorific, but I knew that, for some reason, he did!)

Norry did not have a first name, only a last, so I had to find one for her and I noted that both Lizzie and Wendell had double letters in them so, as the third POV, I liked the idea of her name fitting into that pattern. Bud Gustofson was named as I walked by a weathered sign leading to a road to a cabin in the Northwoods reading “Gustafson,” and his jocular manner reminded me of a 50-year veteran of Minnesota weather reporting, Bud Kraehling.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?

My teenage self would be astonished to know I was writing anything! I never wrote as a young person. When I started writing fiction at 58, it was after a 50-year hiatus that ended in the second grade after the very unsatisfactory conclusion to my short story, "The 500-Pound Mouse."

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Oh, beginnings, absolutely. Endings seem inevitable. While Loon Point is my first published novel, I’ve now completed three novels and, in every case, the beginning requires retooling in revision and the end rarely alters by more than a word or two.

Part of this is, no doubt, because I am as surprised as any reader when I write. I have no idea what will happen in the next scene. So I am driving into the dark when I begin. After the story is complete (and I know how it ends), I have the luxury of beginning it in a way that draws the reader in a little faster, so they don’t have to remain in the dark as long as I did!

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

My characters are usually all a part of me, pushed a little further in one direction or another. I can be as stubborn and judgmental as the middle-aged Norry, and as quick to become emotionally attached. I had a happier childhood than my eight-year-old Lizzie, but I learned to love the woods and books and often enjoyed them together.

Only the older gentleman, Wendell, is a departure from me, in that he represents a real person in my life with whom I feel I share very little. I find his pervasive negativity both comic and sad, but I developed more empathy for both the character and the man who inspired him by writing Loon Point.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

More than any character in a book, my writing is inspired by the places where I have spent time, particularly as a child, and the people I have known. I would not be surprised if readers find Loon Point a little nostalgic, even while it is rooted in the present, because it is built from places that have lived in my memory since I was a girl. It took 50 years to tell the story, but it turns out that I had stories to tell, after all.

Visit Carrie Classon's website.

The Page 69 Test: Loon Point.

Writers Read: Carrie Classon.

--Marshal Zeringue

Andromeda Romano-Lax

Born in Chicago and now a resident of Vancouver Island, Canada, Andromeda Romano-Lax worked as a freelance journalist and travel writer before turning to fiction. Her first novel, The Spanish Bow, was translated into eleven languages and chosen as a New York Times Editors’ Choice, BookSense pick, and one of Library Journal’s Best Books of the Year. Her next four novels, The Detour, Behave (an Amazon Book of the Month), Plum Rains (winner of the Sunburst Award), and Annie and the Wolves (a Booklist Top 10 Historical Fiction Book of the Year) reflect her diverse interest in the arts, history, science, and technology, as well as her love of travel and her time spent living abroad. Starting with The Deepest Lake (a Barnes & Noble Monthly Pick and Amazon Book of the Month) and continuing with her new novel, What Boys Learn, Romano-Lax has swerved into the world of suspense fiction, although she continues to write historical and speculative fiction as well.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

This thriller asks what boys learn from the world around them in terms of what manhood means, what counts as acceptable behavior, and what a man can expect to get away with (possibly even rape or murder)—so I think What Boys Learn is spot on!

What's in a name?

My main character, a struggling single mom living on Chicago’s affluent North Shore, is named Abby Rosso. I wanted a common first name and an Italian last name that says “Chicago,” as my own maiden name does. You might also note her initials—A.R.—and compare them to my own.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

My teen self would have been thrilled beyond belief! First, to read a book about the real pressures teens face, with no pulling back from creepy content. And second, to read a book set in the world (Illinois and Wisconsin) in which I grew up: Waukegan, Lake Forest, Madison, Milwaukee, Chicago, Sheridan Road. In the 1980s, John Hughes movies portrayed aspects of my teen world, and Scott Turow (Presumed Innocent) also came close, but not as close as this book.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Endings are hard because I tend to rush them. With this book, I took more time, not only to write the climactic action scene but to allow for a more leisurely denouement, showing where my characters end up, logistically and emotionally speaking.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

To pick only one thing: class issues. Abby is educated (a counselor with a new Master’s degree) but she is middle class at best, and financially unstable, while living in an upscale suburban community that doesn’t welcome her or her son. I was that person: lower middle class, from a distant working-class town, able to attend a posh private high school on partial scholarship. My classmates were very good people but the lifestyle differences and financial expectations were vast.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Swimming! My troubled teen protag, Benjamin, works off his frustrations and is trying to improve himself via swimming. Me, too, as a late-onset triathlete. If there are any swim or endurance-sport readers out there, I hope they like the final scenes in the book!

Visit Andromeda Romano-Lax's website.

The Page 69 Test: The Spanish Bow.

The Page 69 Test: The Detour.

Writers Read: Andromeda Romano-Lax (February 2012).

The Page 69 Test: What Boys Learn.

Writers Read: Andromeda Romano-Lax.

My Book, The Movie: What Boys Learn.

--Marshal Zeringue

Kelli Stanley

A critically-acclaimed, bestselling author of crime fiction, Kelli Stanley is the author of the award-winning Miranda Corbie historical noir series (City of Dragons, City of Secrets, City of Ghosts, City of Sharks), featuring "one of crime's most arresting heroines" (Library Journal), private investigator Miranda Corbie, and set in 1940 San Francisco.

Stanley also writes an award-winning, highly-praised series set in Roman Britain (Nox Dormienda; The Curse-Maker).

Her newest novel, The Reckoning, is a first-in-series mystery-thriller set in Northern California's "Emerald Triangle" in 1985.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

Ah, titles. Always difficult. I like to choose a title while I’m writing the book because it helps give me focus, a kind of preview of what I want the book to be. I also like titles that make readers think. An early consideration for The Reckoning was Red Harvest—borrowing Hammett’s title—and it very much fits because of the setting (cannabis harvest in Humboldt County, CA) and the fact that the book is inspired by Hammett’s Red Harvest. Another possibility was Run Down Like Water, from Amos 5:24, and a quote made very famous by Martin Luther King: “But let judgment run down as waters, and righteousness as a mighty stream.” Both are very suitable in different ways. Ultimately, I chose The Reckoning as my working title, and was surprised the publisher kept it because there are so many other properties with the name.

It most definitely fits the novel. There are many reckonings, large and small, throughout the narrative, so—despite the overuse of this particular title—I think it perfectly expresses what happens in the book, and hopefully will lead to book club discussions among readers about what those reckonings were.

What's in a name?

Choosing the right name, with the right cadence and symbolic meaning and sound, is crucial for me. Miranda, for example, means “something to marvel at” and Corbie derives from the same root as corvid—a raven or crow. Thus, Miranda Corbie.

With Renata, I’ve had that first name in mind for a long time. It’s a bit unusual, but it’s musical, with a lovely lilt to it, and it means “reborn”—and indeed, Renata Drake is reborn in The Reckoning as “Natalie Connors”, a name that lacks the rhythm and meaning of a “real” protagonist and thus is perfect for an alias. She chose that name because she is accustomed to the diminutive “Nattie”—which is short for Renata and could be short for Natalie, too.

As for Drake? It’s a synonym for dragon. So the vulnerability of a newly reborn Renata is anchored by the fierceness of a drake or dragon. That tells you something about her character.

As for Natalie Connors, it remains to be seen as to whether she will be able to forego an alias and fully reemerge as Renata Drake again.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

I don’t think she would be all that surprised—especially because I had to channel her for so much of the book. The high school in The Reckoning is my alma mater, South Fork—and I had to tap into adolescent memory to remember phrases, apparel, attitudes and more from 1985. Plus, I’ve always been a writer—poetry, screenplays, etc. I wrote my first “play” when I was eight!

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

Beginnings, always. By the time I get to the conclusion, it’s like a roller coaster—wheee!! all the way down. Everything has built up to that point and it’s all in you and you can just roll with it. Beginnings, though—at least for me—change constantly because I write from beginning to end, front to back, and along the way you might make decisions that impact that opening. So beginnings change throughout the writing process—in fact, the earlier parts of my books are always the most rewritten because I don’t stick to a strict outline. Outlines are necessary for me, but I use them like roadmaps on a pleasure drive—they show me where I think I want to go, but I’m always open to a detour.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

There are two characters in The Reckoning who share some stuff with me. Because this is a “lived in” book—a time and place I experienced—I used some small personal memories where appropriate and shared them with both Renata and Amanda, a young teenager and would-be sleuth whose name has a similar construction to Miranda. Her name means “must be loved.” So yes, I see a bit of myself in both of those characters, but ultimately, in order to write, I have to project them in my mind as full-fledged people who are separate and distinct. That said, my protagonists—at least those written in a close third person, like Renata or Miranda, or first person, like Arcturus in Nox Dormienda, usually express values that I hold as well—some more, some less.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Life in general influences the intellectual aims of my writing, particularly what I see happening around me. The Reckoning, for example, is a suspenseful mystery-thriller, yes, but it is also a reflection on what happens to communities when there is a gulf between justice, law and survival. What happens when law must be ignored in order to effect morality? What happens when laws contradict behavior necessary to survive? What defines community? Can a community based on an illegal economy still be a community in the best sense of the word? So yeah, those are some of the questions I wanted to touch on in The Reckoning—along with giving everyone what I hope will be an entertaining thrill-ride, I always try to write a book that bears rereading … and that’s usually when you find those non-literary inspirations I just mentioned.

Visit Kelli Stanley's website.

Coffee with a Canine: Kelli Stanley & Bertie.

The Page 69 Test: City of Dragons.

The Page 69 Test: City of Secrets.

The Page 69 Test: City of Ghosts.

My Book, The Movie: City of Ghosts.

The Page 69 Test: City of Sharks.

My Book, The Movie: City of Sharks.

Writers Read: Kelli Stanley (March 2018).

The Page 69 Test: The Reckoning.

Writers Read: Kelli Stanley.

My Book, The Movie: Kelli Stanley's The Reckoning.

--Marshal Zeringue

Linda Wilgus

Linda Wilgus grew up in the Netherlands and lived in Italy, Belgium, and the United States before settling in England. A graduate of the University of Amsterdam, she worked as a bookseller and a knitting pattern designer before becoming a full-time writer. Her short stories have been published in numerous literary magazines. Wilgus shares her home with her husband, three children, and their dog.

The Sea Child is Wilgus's debut novel.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

The Sea Child was not the original title of the book. It went out to publishers with the title The Sea Bucca’s Daughter which is also the title I used to query agents. I think by the time we went out on submission to publishers though everyone felt that the title may need to be changed as, even though the Sea Bucca legend from Cornish folklore is very important in the story, hardly anybody would know who the Sea Bucca was before they read it. After some brainstorming with my US and UK editors and my agent, we settled on The Sea Child and I feel it is the perfect title for the book. The title refers to Isabel, the main character, and to her connection to the sea which is such an important part of the book and a driving force in the narrative. It also hints at the magic in the story, because it raises questions for readers, namely, why is Isabel the sea child and what does this mean for the character and her journey?

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

I think my teenage self would be surprised that my dream of writing and seeing a novel published has come true, but I don’t think the story itself would be too surprising to her. I grew up in a part of the Netherlands called Twente, which has very strong folkloric tradition, and I have loved folklore from an early age. My favourite genre to read back then was historical fiction, as it is now. Plus, even as a teenager, I was a huge romantic! So to see a story that combines all these elements does fit with what I imagine my teenage self would have liked to write someday.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

I find endings harder to write, mainly because, try as I might, I’m unable to predict how my novels will end. Before I wrote my debut The Sea Child, I wrote three other adult novels and during the writing of those I learned that for me, it’s important to draw up a structure before diving into the actual writing. But even as I wrote a structure for The Sea Child and have also written for my second book, which is coming out in Spring 2027, and for the third which I’m currently working on, I seem to be able to plan about 75% of the book and the last 25% only comes to me during the writing. Beginnings are fairly easy for me as I usually have a sense of how I want the book to open but with endings I can only hope that the puzzle pieces will fall into place by the time I get to writing them.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

Isabel, the main character in The Sea Child definitely shares some character traits with me. Like Isabel I tend to be somewhat impulsive and I can be a bit stubborn too. And like her, I have always loved the sea and have felt connected to it in a way, albeit not in a mystical way like Isabel! I love to swim in the sea too but am by no means a strong sea-swimmer. And in other ways Isabel is very different from me. I do recognise something of myself in many of my characters but the characters are very much their own personality as well and there are many more differences than there are similarities.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Folklore and history, in particular the history of Cornwall and other Celtic cultures, are huge inspirations to me. Another inspiration is travel as I love visiting the places I write about and getting to know them by exploring their landscapes. In my books landscape plays a big role and in a way ends up being almost like another character as the part it plays in the story is so important, as is the case with the Cornish landscape and particularly the sea in The Sea Child. I love taking long hikes in the different settings I write about and getting a sense of the landscape that way. It’s one of my favourite things about writing!

Visit Linda Wilgus's website.

The Page 69 Test: The Sea Child.

--Marshal Zeringue

Nina McConigley

Nina McConigley was born in Singapore and raised in Wyoming. Her short-story collection Cowboys and East Indians was the winner of the PEN Open Book Award and a High Plains Book Award. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, Orion, Ploughshares, Alaska Quarterly Review, High Country News, O, Oprah Magazine, Parents, Virginia Quarterly Review, American Short Fiction, and The Asian American Literary Review among others.

McConigley's new novel is How to Commit a Postcolonial Murder.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

The book had another title while I was working on it. It was originally called The Call of Migratory Things. Which is a line from Angels in America. That play had a huge influence on me, and since my book was set in the 80’s, I loved it as a title. When I first started working on the book with my editor, she asked me about the title. And mentioned she felt it was very lyrical, and made people think of more typical immigrant narratives – a more familiar story. I agreed with her. We agreed my book wasn’t that. It was weird – so why not have a little cheekier title? We went through a list and quickly settled on How to Commit a Postcolonial Murder. It summed up the book – race, murder, a kind of how-to. And then I saw the cover image of anti-freeze and knew it was all perfect. The book is serious, but also really playful, and I think the title captures that.

What's in a name?

The names of my two main characters were very deliberate. Two white colonial women writers I grew up reading were Agatha Christie and Georgette Heyer. I devoured their books. And so, I knew the mother in the book would have also read them and named her girls after them – Agatha Krishna and Georgie Ayyar. The mother’s maiden name being Ayyar, sealed the joke. I think the whole book is playing with colonialism, and the names felt like another space to play and poke at certain structures.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?

My teenage self would not have thought a teenage life was worth writing about. Growing up in Wyoming, I was always waiting for my life to begin. Which I thought would only happen if I left Wyoming. So, knowing that I am writing about Noxzema, summer camp, and Ouija boards would have made me laugh. I thought literature was only Shakespeare and Austen.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

I wrote the bookends to my novel first – the beginning and the end. After many false starts to the book and messy drafts, I decided to structure the book within a year. I began in January 1986, and then I wrote December 1986. And I told myself every chapter in between would lead to and earn that ending. But I did mess with the prologue and Chapter 1 many times. In your mind, you think this is what people will read first, so if it doesn’t grab them, they’ll stop reading. So, I tinkered and changed things a lot. Especially in the prologue, which I know some readers hate. But is often a convention of a thriller/mystery.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

A little bit of both. I certainly have been a biracial Indian girl growing up in Wyoming in the 1980’s. My dad is a geologist. But many of Georgie’s experiences and life are fiction. I haven’t killed anyone to my knowledge. But I see her wide-eyedness, her observations, and her feelings about race and Wyoming to be similar to mine. You get, as a writer, to create a better version or a different version of yourself. You get to make the comeback, to change the way history operated.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

I think the landscape of Wyoming is my biggest influence. To live with so much open space and emptiness, perhaps contributed to the slimness of my novel. It’s spare. Also, a lot of visual artists. The Indian artists Hemali Vadalia, Renluka Maharaj, Suchitra Mattai, Maya Varadaraj, and Shyama Golden inspired me no end. I would look at their art when stuck. And much of my book was written to the Tamil musician Ganavya. Her work is otherworldly. Her voice and music were prayers to me. Also, world events. A lot happened while I worked on this book – the pandemic, George Floyd, two elections – and I wanted my art to be my activism.

Visit Nina McConigley's website.

The Page 69 Test: How to Commit a Postcolonial Murder.

Writers Read: Nina McConigley.

--Marshal Zeringue

Lynn Cullen

Lynn Cullen’s bestselling novels, including The Woman with the Cure, The Sisters of Summit Avenue, Mrs. Poe, Twain’s End, The Creation of Eve, and Reign of Madness, have been translated into seventeen languages and are the recipients of various honors, including NPR Great Read, Oprah.com Book of the Week, People magazine Book of the Week, Indie Next List selection, and Atlanta magazine Best Books of the Year. She lives in Atlanta.

Cullen's new novel is When We Were Brilliant.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

I wrote my novel When We Were Brilliant in response to the deep curiosity I’ve had about Marilyn Monroe since I was a kid watching her in The Seven Year Itch. I’d wanted to write about her for decades but couldn’t find a way in that was unique. It then occurred to me that one of the many woman who photographed Marilyn might have some interesting insights. I was shocked to find that she’d only sat for one woman, Eve Arnold. In fact, Marilyn sought her out.

Eve was wary of Marilyn at first. Marilyn claimed that she could help Eve’s career, a big boast, Eve thought, coming from a starlet. But she soon found out that their collaboration was like nothing she’d ever experienced (nor would ever again in her highly acclaimed, 70-year career.) Marilyn brought out the best in Eve’s natural ability to draw out her subject, a gift that would come to allow Eve’s subjects to fully give themselves to her. For her part, Eve allowed Marilyn to show a side of herself unseen by any other photographer. In fact, you can easily pick out Eve Arnold’s photos of Marilyn from the rest of the field. Marilyn just looks different in them.

Twenty-five years after Marilyn died, Eve wrote a book about her time with Marilyn. In it, she said that they sparked off each other; together, they were brilliant. And hence the title of the novel, which, in a nutshell, summarizes the scope of my tale.

What's in a name?

Every character in my book is based on a real person, from Marilyn to her make- up artist, Whitey Snyder, so there was never any thought given to naming them. The challenge, came instead from putting together what is known about Marilyn and Eve-- not just the events in their lives, but how they thought and acted--to tell a story that shows the real women behind their famous facades. The result is a view of Marilyn that is as unique as Eve’s photos of her. I can’t wait for readers to discover these two truly brilliant women in the pages of the novel.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?

This book is exactly what my teenaged self would have dreamed of writing…but would have never been able to pull off. It took a lifetime of hard-won experience to understand what the lives of Marilyn Monroe and Eve Arnold could say to us.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

The first few sentences of a novel are relatively easy to write, but it’s slow-going after that as I figure out what the story is trying to say. I rewrite everything. Repeatedly. Dozens of times. I usually have an idea of the ending before I start the book but don’t write it until I come to the actual finish. It’s a sort of bait to get me through the years it takes to write a novel.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

For differing reasons, I can relate deeply to both of my leading ladies. I did my best to inhabit them, to the point that Eve Arnold’s grandson has said that Eve, in my book, sounds like the woman he knew and loved. But with that connection came an attachment that might explain why I get so teary just thinking about Marilyn and Eve or seeing their photos. I don’t regret it—it was the cost of writing the most authentic, honest story possible—but I am a bit of an emotional wreck.

Visit Lynn Cullen's website.

12 Yoga Questions: Lynn Cullen.

My Book, The Movie: Mrs. Poe.

The Page 69 Test: Mrs. Poe.

The Page 69 Test: Twain's End.

The Page 69 Test: The Sisters of Summit Avenue.

My Book, the Movie: The Sisters of Summit Avenue.

--Marshal Zeringue

Van Jensen

Van Jensen is an acclaimed novelist, screenwriter, and comic book writer. Godfall, his debut novel, is in development as a TV series with Academy Award winner Ron Howard attached to direct. He began his career as a newspaper crime reporter, then broke into comic books and graphic novels as the writer of ARCA (IDW), Two Dead (Gallery 13), and Tear Us Apart (Dark Horse). Jensen has written world-renowned characters, including Superman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Godzilla, and James Bond. Jensen has served as a Comic Book Ambassador for the U.S. State Department, teaching refugee children to tell their stories through comics. He lives in Atlanta.

My Q&A with the author:

How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?

Godfall is about a god-like being falling out of the sky, so I'd say it hits the nail on the head.

Funny enough, this was a book that I took forever to generate the title. When the answer finally came, I about kicked myself that such an obvious one had been there all along.

What's in a name?

There's a thing that a lot of writers do where they use the meaning/etymology of a name to reinforce a character's personality traits. To me, that's a bit on the nose.

I think more about how a name sounds. How it feels. There's a military head in Godfall named Conover, and I chose that because it has the hard initial C, but also is unassuming. This is a guy who is tougher than he appears.

All this said, I did name my protagonist in this giant-alien story "David," so perhaps I don't mind being on the nose.

How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your new novel?

Godfall is set in western Nebraska, where I grew up. The giant alien lands next to a small town, which is then transformed into the most important place on earth.

My teenage self would be surprised by this because my teenage self was desperate to escape from western Nebraska. I planned to leave and never look back. Yet here I am, writing a trilogy of novels set in just that place.

Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?

My general approach is that I write and rewrite the beginning of a book until it feels rock solid. I always have a plan for the whole book, of course, but I want to get the voice/tone/characters/structure all locked in place, and that takes a good bit of futzing.

That serves as a bit of a foundation, and the rest of the book builds up rather easily from there, I find.

Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?

I didn't plan to make David, the Godfall protagonist, an avatar of myself. But most people who read the book have commented that he's a lot like me.

Generally, I think the fun of writing is exploring the vast range of human psychology and experience. At the same time, I always want to be able to relate emotionally to them. To me, that's the key in making stories sing.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

I started my writing career in newspapers, spending a few years as a crime reporter. That probably had the most impact. I think I have a good handle on how police operate, their motivations. Criminals as well.

Beyond that, I try to live a life of engagement, interacting with others as often as I can, just generally being out in the world. You never know what little moment might catalyze a story idea.

Visit Van Jensen's website.

Writers Read: Van Jensen.

--Marshal Zeringue