Sara Mueller

A seamstress and horsewoman, Sara A. Mueller writes speculative fiction in the green and rainy Pacific Northwest, where she lives with her family, numerous recipe books, and a forest of fountain pens.

In a nomadic youth, she trod the earth of every state but Alaska and lived in six of them.

She’s an amateur historical costumer, gamer, and cook.

Mueller's debut novel is The Bone Orchard.

My Q&A with the author:

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

For The Bone Orchard, the title does a lot of heavy lifting. The story is about how the past tends to grow into new problems, about how memories don't simply vanish even when we wish they would. The things that Boren thought they'd buried are regrowing from the roots, so to speak. The majority of the book is spent in Orchard House, named for its literal bone orchard.

What's in a name?

Everything, in this case! Charm and all the boneghosts are named for what they represent and what they are. Charm is... charming. Pain takes on the pain of others. They were very deliberately named. And hyacinths are such big, strong, showy, scented flowers that you can't miss if you're near them - just like Hyacinth Barker. At least in The Bone Orchard, names matter a lot.

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

I would've been shocked! I'm dyslexic, and, while I started writing stories as soon as I could write, my parents didn't think it was a good idea to encourage writing as a serious endeavor. I never imagined I had the capacity to write a novel.

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

It's harder to write a solid beginning, but they're the set up for the whole story, because they're so important for setting the tone of the story. At the end, the reader should be able to look back and think 'yes, this was the promise of what this book would be'. The ending, at least of The Bone Orchard, changed a lot! Originally it was a whole different person who did the murder. I got halfway through and realized that my initial impulse had been too simple, too shallow, too tidy, and that I had a much more complicated, messy, motivated murderer right at my fingertips. I didn't even have to rewrite. All the breadcrumbs were already there.

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

They're definitely not me. I wish I was as entirely able to keep getting up and going on as Charm is, but I wrote a character whose determination I could aspire to even if she's not always perfect and is certainly not me.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

I think it's impossible for a writer's various kinds of input and experiences not to influence their writing. My mother was a domestic violence survivor who went on to be happily married for more than fifty years. She was, for her whole life, a survivor. It would be hard to deny that as a formative influence for The Bone Orchard. There was a drawing that a friend did of a tree whose fruit was bones. I thought it was so evocative that I asked if I could use that idea for a book some day. I had no idea of The Bone Orchard yet. Beautiful period dramas, both PBS drama series and stand-alone movies, helped remind me that the clothes make people stand and move in very particular ways. Even if an influence never made it directly to the page, it influenced how I thought about my work.

Visit Sara A. Mueller's website.

The Page 69 Test: The Bone Orchard.

--Marshal Zeringue

Peng Shepherd

Peng Shepherd was born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona, where she rode horses and trained in classical ballet, and has lived in Beijing, Kuala Lumpur, London, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., New York, and Mexico City.

photo credit: Rachel Crittenden

Her first novel, The Book of M, won the 2019 Neukom Institute for Literary Arts Award for Debut Speculative Fiction, and was chosen as a best book of the year by Amazon, Elle, Refinery29, and The Verge, a best book of the summer by the Today Show and NPR On Point, and was optioned for television by Twentieth Century Studios.

Her second novel, The Cartographers, was named a Pick of the Month by Good Morning America, Real Simple, Bustle, The Millions, and Goodreads, a best book of the month by Amazon, Apple, and Buzzfeed, as well as an “Indie Next” Independent Bookstores Pick and a “Book of the Month” Book Club Pick.

My Q&A with the author:

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

Titles are so important to me. As a reader, I’ve bought books based off of just the title. It’s your first glimpse into the story, sometimes even before the book cover, and it sets the tone for everything. Even with a title as simple as The Cartographers, it already tells you that this book 1) is about maps or mapmaking, 2) probably has dark academia vibes, and 3) it’s also the name of a group of seven friends within the novel, so once you reach them in the story, you know that they’ll be a very important part of the plot.

Sometimes I come up with a title for my work in progress right away, and sometimes it comes later, but I will spend the entire drafting and revision process nitpicking my tentative choice and coming up with lists of alternatives, to make sure it’s perfect.

What's in a name?

The sound of it is the most important thing. Does it sound strong, weak, graceful, intelligent, funny, sweet, etc… I want a name to match a character’s personality, as well as harmonize with the rest of the names in the book. And I have to know a character’s full name, even if I only use part of it in the text. Often, in one of the last drafts, I’ll change one or two of the names before sending the final manuscript in, which always makes my editors’ last reads very entertaining.

I chose the name “Nell Young” for the main character of The Cartographers because “Nell” gives me the impression of a very bright, studious, determined person, which is exactly my Nell’s personality. Interestingly, once the book went on sale in mid-March, I’ve since received a lot of messages from real-life Nells who loved seeing a main character named after them, so it’s been really fun to read those!

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

Beginnings are so much easier than endings—but oddly, once I write an ending, which usually occurs very early on in the first draft, it never changes. But the beginning will change a lot in every revision. I’ll often go through three or four different potential beginnings before settling on one. Maybe it’s because at the beginning of the story, there’s so much possibility, and you can really go anywhere you like. But with an ending, everything that comes before has to be building to that satisfying, meaningful moment. It has to feel somehow inevitable, even if it’s unexpected. By that point, if you’ve done your job well, there are far fewer ways an ending could turn out than a beginning.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

A lot of travel, which is always so refreshing and helps refill the creative well, and also a lot of video games. I love movies and TV shows too, but there’s something really fun about being in a lush new environment, but instead of just watching a character explore, you actually get to do that exploring yourself, in whatever direction or order you want to go.

Visit Peng Shepherd's website.

Writers Read: Peng Shepherd (June 2018).

--Marshal Zeringue

Edward Ashton

Edward Ashton is the author of the novels Mickey7, Three Days in April, and The End of Ordinary. His short fiction has appeared in venues ranging from the newsletter of an Italian sausage company to Escape Pod, Analog, and Fireside Fiction. He lives in upstate New York in a cabin in the woods (not that Cabin in the Woods) with his wife, a variable number of daughters, and an adorably mopey dog named Max, where he writes—mostly fiction, occasionally fact—under the watchful eyes of a giant woodpecker and a rotating cast of barred owls. In his free time, Ashton enjoys cancer research, teaching quantum physics to sullen graduate students, and whittling.

My Q&A with the author:

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

Ninety percent of the time, titles are the worst part of the entire process of crafting a story for me. As a result, I generally don't want to put the effort in until I'm sure a project is going to make it across the finish line. During the drafting process I'll use a working title, which is usually just the first name of the protagonist. That's exactly what I did for Mickey7, obviously---but then when I got to the end, I realized that in this case the working title was perfect. The name "Mickey" tells the reader right up front that this book isn't taking itself too seriously, and what's with the 7? Gotta figure that out, right? It's a simple title, but it pulls you right into the story.

What's in a name?

My character names are just names. I try to pick ones that roll off the tongue if I can, but I'm not into the whole Roger Chillingworth thing. I do put a bit of thought into my place names, though. Mickey's expedition departs from Midgard, which in Norse mythology is the home of men, and travels to Niflheim, which is a frozen land inhabited by a giant dragon. One of the failed colonies Mickey describes is called Roanoke, and another is Long Shot. These names don't mean anything to the characters, because they're so far removed from our world in both time and space that the meanings have been lost, but the reader hopefully gets an idea of what they're getting into right from the jump.

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

For me, writing a novel is like rolling a boulder down a hill. The first couple of chapters are always an absolute slog, but as the story grows and the characters reveal themselves momentum builds, so that by the final few chapters I can barely pull myself away from the keyboard. I don't usually know exactly how the story is going to end when I start writing (it would be much more boring if I did, no?) but generally by the time I reach the half-way point I do, and I'm increasingly impatient to get there.

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

I make a conscious effort not to insert myself into my stories, but particularly when I'm writing in the first person it's tough not to put at least a bit of my voice into the narrator's mouth. It's usually worse in first drafts, because I put some effort during the revision process into making sure that each character has a distinct voice that's not mine, but even so, bits and pieces of me often wind up sneaking through.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Every experience you have influences your writing, doesn't it? My stories are littered with bits and pieces of stuff that I remember (probably badly) from my philosophy classes, with ancient history, with contemporary politics, with things I've learned from my day job as a cancer researcher, with things I overhear in restaurants, etc., etc. I feel like my job as a writer is mostly just to synthesize all that detritus into something that's both meaningful and entertaining. I feel like I managed that reasonably well with Mickey7. Hopefully most of my readers will agree.

Visit Edward Ashton's website.

The Page 69 Test: Mickey7.

--Marshal Zeringue

Carolyne Topdjian

Carolyne Topdjian is a suspense writer with publications in PRISM International, Dreamers Magazine and Firewords Quarterly. She has an interdisciplinary PHD from York University and is a professor in the Faculty of Media and Creative Arts at Humber College in Toronto. She is a two-time Pitch Wars mentor and lives in a 112-year-old haunted house.

The Hitman's Daughter is Topdjian's first novel.

My Q&A with the author:

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

Great question! I think my title The Hitman’s Daughter definitely sets the stage for some cross-genre action; it promises edge-of-your-seat thrills. But more importantly, I think it suggests how my protagonist’s identity is overshadowed by the sins of her father. The world pre-judges Mave Michael Francis because she’s the daughter of an incarcerated hitman. This bias is the core of Mave’s internal and external struggle throughout the story. Over the course of the novel, she must learn to cope with and stop running from her unwanted past. With everyone trapped inside a rundown grand hotel during a blizzard on New Year’s Eve, there’s a killer on the loose, trying to pin murder on Mave; so only by accepting who she is—what she is—can Mave save herself.

What's in a name?

Since I already mentioned my main character, Mave, above, let me steer this question to my novel’s supporting character, the setting itself. The Château du Ciel—my rundown grand hotel where Mave’s story takes place—is named, in part, for its location: on an isolated mountain in Western Colorado. The fictional hotel’s motto is “soar in luxury, remain forever.” Ciel means sky in French, and when trying to come up with a name for my grand hotel, Château du Ciel sounded magical and luxurious to me. It’s an inviting name, which is intentionally ironic since the hotel is also rumored to be haunted and is the site of a murder… or two.

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

I don’t think my younger self would think twice about The Hitman’s Daughter; she’d dive right in and enjoy all the nail-biting, gothic drama! After all, back in high school, Bram Stoker’s Dracula was my favorite assigned reading in English class. Also, I was devouring Stephen King as early as age 13. I grew up reading mostly horror and thriller novels, whether or not they were age appropriate. Along with King’s early staples like Carrie, It, The Shining, I read a ton of Christopher Pike, R.L. Stine, Dean Koontz, Anne Rice… I knew early on, I loved gothic thrillers, so The Hitman’s Daughter feels like it would be an eagerly anticipated book for my teenage self.

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

Well, my father is a hitman, and I was once a shopgirl in a grand hotel reputed to be haunted. Okay, only the second half of that sentence is true! I know nothing about being raised by an antisocial, lethal criminal. This aspect of Mave’s personality—the paranoia, instinctual sleuthing, and heartbreak of losing her mother at age 3—is (thankfully) completely foreign from my own lived experience. I think it’s also what makes Mave so fascinating to explore as a writer. I’d be bored if she was too much like me.

Regarding the second half of my connection, I did indeed have a stint as a shopgirl in a grand hotel/chateau that remains haunted till this day. And yes, just like Mave, I’m terribly neat and organized. I don’t like disorder. Crooked paintings give me anxiety, and I hate losing things. This is why I loved developing Mave’s quirky sixth sense: she can intuitively place the lost inanimate objects of strangers. Forgot your keys or cellphone somewhere? Just ask Mave. She’ll tell you where to look.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

I love, love music and pictures! I create playlists for all my projects and almost always listen to songs while I write. My educational background is visual arts, so I’m also enthusiastic about novel aesthetics. Similar to playlists, I use aesthetic boards as inspiration for developing my novels. I can easily spend hours on Pinterest, finding images as writing prompts and visual guides. Images certainly helped with writing and plotting The Hitman’s Daughter. I can’t give too many details due to spoilers, but for those who read the novel, if you were to visit my Pinterest page afterward, you’d see several unique examples that directly influenced my visual descriptions and choices.

Visit Carolyne Topdjian's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Jason Sheehan

Jason Sheehan is an award-winning freelance journalist and author. In addition to being a book and video game critic for NPR, he has published three books for adults.

Sheehan's new novel is Children of the Flying City, his first book for young readers.

My Q&A with the author:

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

I think Children of the Flying City does a lot of heavy lifting right there on the cover. It tells you, straight off, that this is a story about children (which it is), and something in the cadence of it implies adventure and action. Then there's the whole Flying City thing with its pulp vibes and blunt promise of impossibility and strangeness. It lets you know, in no uncertain terms, that you're going somewhere when you pick up this book, and that it's gonna be weird.

Originally, the book was called Quick--named for the main character, Milo Quick--and while that was a great working title (because it was a constant reminder that this was a story about motion, taking place over just three days as Milo and his friends, Jules and Dagda, evaded kidnappers, war and the truth about their pasts), but it didn't work on the final. While single-word titles can be powerful, this one was too broad, too easily forgotten, and didn't do enough of that necessary set-up that a title like Children of the Flying City does.

What's in a name?

For me, a lot. My first step in considering any new story is choosing names. It's a little bit of magic I do. Something like divination. Because, to me, the name (of a person, a place, of anything) will suggest its qualities.

Here's the thing, though... Almost none of those names survive to the final draft. In Children of the Flying City, the three main characters--Milo, Jules and Dagda--kept the names they were given in the first draft, but I don't think a single other character did. At a certain point, the name just becomes a label. The characters are what they are no matter what they're called.

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

I wrote it as the book a younger me would've dreamed of finding on the shelf at the library--all dark and strange, full of big ideas, sweeping action and airships. Something that didn't talk down to me, or treat me like I needed training wheels on my spaceship, you know? I grew up on Star Wars and Logan's Run, Heavy Metal and Roger Zelazny. I wanted the heavy stuff.

Granted, give that kid a couple years and he'd be mortified that his older self was writing MG books. 19-year-old me really thought he was going to grow up to be the next William Gibson.

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

Beginnings are a cinch. Endings are a nightmare. I have the first 50 pages of 500 novels sitting around in my notes. I've written the endings for precisely four.

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

My connection to the kids in Children of the Flying City is that, somehow, I'm still capable of seeing the world through their eyes. That I can invent a world and look out at it as a 14-year-old would. Though I have never robbed a pneumatic mail system, survived a war in a flying city, or been kidnapped by gun-runners in the employ of a rebel army, I'm comfortable in their heads, which is an absolute gift.

That said, one thing we do have in common is a bone-deep distrust of the adult world. Milo, Jules and Dagda inherited a bit of my GenX cynicism, I think. They know there are no heroes in their world. No good guys and bad guys. They understand that winning often just means surviving to fight again tomorrow.

Follow Jason Sheehan on Twitter.

My Book, The Movie: Children of the Flying City.

--Marshal Zeringue

Jennifer Murphy

Jennifer Murphy holds an MFA in painting from the University of Denver and an MFA in creative writing from the University of Washington. She is the recipient of the 2013 Loren D. Milliman Scholarship for creative writing and was a contributor at the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference from 2008 through 2012. In 2015, her acclaimed debut novel, I Love You More, won the prestigious Nancy Pearl Fiction Award. Her love of art led her to start Citi Arts, a public art and urban planning company that has created public art master plans for airports, transit facilities, streetscapes, and cities nationwide. She hails from a small beachfront town in Michigan and has lived in Denver, Charlotte, Seattle, and Charleston. She currently lives in Houston, Texas.

Murphy's new novel is Scarlet in Blue.

My Q&A with the author:

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

I knew the title early on. I generally know a title before I start writing. In Scarlet in Blue, I wanted the title to do more than one thing. Scarlet and Blue are the names of the book’s main characters, a mother and fifteen-year-old daughter who are on the run from a phantom man but using in instead of and is about the concept of one character or person being inside another. This isn’t immediately clear when the book begins but as the novel unfolds it becomes a unifying theme throughout. For example, where it has to do with Blue, who is a pianist, her piano teacher tells her that when playing the work of a famous composer, Beethoven, for instance, she should imagine the composer is inside her, feel his energy and how he must have felt when he played the piece. Scarlet, a painter, employs this same practice. Scarlet and blue are also colors. Color in general figures both in large and subtle ways throughout the novel. Mixing paint. The color red. Blood. The idea of fugitive pigment, or fading pigment, relates to both the impressionist artists that Scarlet studies and models her paintings after, but also the nomadic life of the mother and daughter. To Blue, their constant moves have made her feel like she herself is fading into life, that no one will remember her. Finally, each time they move, Scarlet tosses the contents of a box of Crayola crayons on the bed. They close their eyes and whichever crayon they choose becomes their next names.

What's in a name?

I think that’s mainly answered above. But I did choose the name Scarlet for a very specific reason that is later explained in the novel.

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

Endings. When I start writing a novel I already know the story before words hit the page. Maybe it’s intuitive to a point, but for me I understand the need to draw a reader in, so as I formulate the story in my mind, I’m always thinking about three things. What’s this story mainly about? Where is the best place to enter the story? What type of opening scene will hook the reader? Endings on the other hand aren’t as defined for me. I have an idea of the larger ending, the plot ending, but I’m not always certain until halfway through exactly where to leave the reader, or me. A novel is kind of like a relationship that you know is ending. How do you best honor the journey you took together?

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

I was a single mom for many years so writing about a single mother and daughter was sometimes cathartic for me. Emotionally I connected with their strong love for one another, their closeness, the way they were nearly one person, even Blue’s teenage angst. But Scarlet’s past is nothing like mine. Her trauma bled into their relationship. Like Scarlet I am a painter. I have an MFA in painting. Like Blue I played the piano, but I wasn’t a concert pianist. I have moved a lot throughout my life, so a lot of what I brought to Blue’s character in terms of her feelings about moving came from my own experience.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

My painting. I’ve always written, but I formally studied painting first. The process of both is very similar. The building of layers. The abbozzo or underpainting to the rough draft. The layers and layers of paint to the numerous edits. All build toward the final product. I also love movies that make me think beyond pure entertainment. Movies that are puzzles. I watch a lot of Netflix, Hulu and Prime. So many movies, and even miniseries, are educational in terms of story structure, dialogue, character development, poetic approach, beginnings and endings. Twist endings! I also think moving a lot has influenced my writing. That inability to marry myself to one writing room or special place. To write through noise and moving boxes and clutter and chaos. To learn to write through the turmoil of continuous change has taught me that words can be found anywhere. And this might sound maudlin, but that words and stories will always be there, will always get me through.

Visit Jennifer Murphy's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Eva Stachniak

Eva Stachniak is an award-winning and internationally bestselling author of six novels, including The Winter Palace, Empress of the Night, and The Chosen Maiden. She holds a PhD in literature from McGill University. Born and raised in Poland, she moved to Canada in 1981, and lives in Toronto.

Stachniak's new novel is The School of Mirrors.

My Q&A with the author:

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

For a long time, I called the novel Deer Park after the mysterious house in the town of Versailles where Louis XV’s courtiers groomed young, lower-class girls for the king’s sexual pleasure. But as the novel grew and expanded in scope, the title became too restrictive. The School of Mirrors opened it up. It played on the theme of deceit and illusion in the corridors of Versailles, but also the deceptive fantasies that ruled the streets of Paris during the heady years of the French Revolution. Mirrors reflect, entice, but they can also force us to confront what we do not want to see.

What's in a name?

There are two heroines in the novel, mother and daughter, separated at birth and searching for each other all their lives. The mother’s name is Veronique, which means “true image” in Greek and throughout the novel Veronique is clinging to her true nature, despite the betrayals she faces. Her daughter’s name is Marie-Louise, the name bestowed on her by the king’s servants for whom pregnant Veronique is just a chore and a nuisance. The name may seem ordinary enough, but it echoes two names significant in the novel. Marie links the baby girl to Marie Leszczyńska, the powerless queen of France, and to Louis XV himself, the powerful king who is the girl’s unacknowledged father. This tug of war between power and powerlessness is the essence of Marie-Louise’s life.

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

Endings are harder because they can only truly be written when the whole book is finished. I write to discover the story I am working on. To do it I often change focus, placement of scenes, their significance. Only when I have the basic shape of the novel, I can come up with the proper ending. Beginnings are much easier. For me novels begin with a voice that tempts me into the story. The School of Mirrors began with a woman’s voice: “My mother didn’t tell me much. I would have to go into service, she said…” The rest I had to discover on my own.

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

In some, yes. Marie-Louise is much closer to me than Veronique. I understand her anger at being abandoned, her loneliness, her long and troubled search for her mother. I gave her a lot of my own experience of being a daughter, of relating to her mother through silence and confusion.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

The revelations of the #metoo movement, the persistent reminders that sexual exploitation is still rampant. The sordid stories of Jeffrey Epstein and his enablers which made the Deer Park story so relevant.

These parallels to the present intensified when I turned my eye to revolutionary France. It was impossible to ignore how much the agitation, the political screaming, the confusion in contemporary media mirrored the agitation of the streets of Paris during the French Revolution. How the revelations of police reports, the libels resembled the tabloids of our times. And these expressions we shared: The enemies of the people… Revolution devours its children… Revolutions are not made with rosewater.

The more it changes, as the French saying goes, the more things remain the same...

Visit Eva Stachniak's website.

The Page 69 Test: The Chosen Maiden.

--Marshal Zeringue

Khan Wong

In past chapters of life, Khan Wong has published poetry and played cello in an earnest folk-rock duo. As an internationally known hula hoop teacher and performer, he’s toured with a circus, taught workshops all over the world, and produced circus arts shows in San Francisco. He’s worked in the nonprofit arts for many years, most recently as an arts funder for a public sector grantmaking agency.

Wong's new novel is The Circus Infinite.

My Q&A with the author:

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

The title brings the reader right into the main setting, so I'd say it does quite a bit of work! Part of the story, of course, is the circus evolving into its new form - it has a different name in the beginning. I also think of the title as a metaphor for existence, but there's really nothing in the text that suggests that. The working title had been Big Top on the Edge of Forever, but that was too derivative of a classic Star Trek episode. I mention it because it hints at the sort of poetic grandeur I was going for. It wasn't until I got to the part with the circus revamping itself that the current title fell into place.

What's in a name?

The alliance of worlds that is the basis of the society in which the story is set is called the 9-Star Congress of Conscious Worlds. The how and the why of it is not explored in great depth in this book because that backstory isn't plot-relevant, but I wanted this society to have a name that was unusual and that conveyed key elements - specifically that there are 9 stars involved, that it's a representative form of government, and a suggestion of the sentience of the planets themselves.

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

My teenage reader self would be absolutely delighted by this novel! If it were a book written by a stranger, he'd be mildly surprised that such a book would come to be, given the rampant queerness. I think it would give him hope for the future (little would he know what else that future would hold...) If he knew that his future self were the author - I think he'd be overjoyed, but not surprised.

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

I find it easier to start a new story than to develop it and wrap it up, yet it's the beginnings of my projects that are revised the most. The characters Jes and Esmée meet in chapter one, but in the first draft Esmée didn't exist yet. So Jes making his way to Persephone-9 was always what happens in Chapter One, but the details of that trip changed quite significantly in revision.

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

Part of the fun of writing different characters is having them say or do things that you would never say or do in real life! I think if someone really wanted to psychoanalyze me and my work they could find connections between myself and every character. They did all spring from my psyche, after all.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

Pop music was a big influence in the worldbuilding for this project. Also, my experience working in the arts for my entire adult working life has certainly impacted how I look at the world and what kinds of characters I want to write about. Science Fiction movies and TV, including superhero media, has influenced my concepts for stories, but maybe not so much the actual writing.

Visit Khan Wong's website.

--Marshal Zeringue

Ash Davidson

Ash Davidson is the author of the national bestseller Damnation Spring, which was named a best book of 2021 by Newsweek, The San Francisco Chronicle, The Washington Post, and The Los Angeles Times. She lives in Flagstaff, Arizona.

My Q&A with the author:

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

Damnation Spring is the spring that feeds the creek that the aging logger at the heart of the novel, Rich Gundersen, and his young wife, Colleen, rely on for water, which becomes a major source of tension in their marriage after Colleen starts to suspect it’s poisoning them. It’s a link to Damnation Grove, the stand of ancient redwoods on which Rich’s employer plans to make a killing, and the center of a violent conflict that divides their tight-knit timber town.

It’s also a season, in a community very much at the mercy of the seasons. And it conjures up a biblical notion of being trapped, of bringing about your own ruin, which speaks to the situation Rich and Colleen find themselves in, caught between making a living and keeping their family safe.

What's in a name?

I chose names that fit the characters’ personalities–Rich because he’s solid and steady, and there was strength in that name. Of course, in writing, you have the luxury of getting to know the person before committing to a name, unlike naming a baby first and then watching the personality grow in. Certain characters like Daniel, the fish biologist, changed names three or four times as I got to know them better.

One exception is Eugene and Enid’s youngest, Alsea, who is named in honor of a small community in rural Oregon where a schoolteacher documented a series of miscarriages local women suspected might be linked to herbicide spraying, which eventually led to the banning of the chemical defoliant 2,4,5-T.

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

Beginnings. Usually I write the last scene first. The ending serves as a lighthouse. No matter how lost I get, wandering off after a character or a subplot, or down some internet rabbit hole, I can look up and see that light in the distance. Although I rewrote the ending for Damnation Spring six times and the real ending, when I finally found it, completely surprised me. So that method isn’t always foolproof.

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

I feel like I met them, even though I invented them. We don’t have much in common. But I always tried to see things their way, to understand their reasons, even when I disagreed with them.

The two characters readers have the hardest time with are Rich’s boss, Merle, and Rich’s brother-in-law, Eugene, who is married to Colleen’s sister Enid. Both do some truly despicable things. With Merle, I went and found his wife, Arlette. She’s ill, and she’s vain, and she won’t go to the beauty parlor in her condition, so Merle helps her dye her hair at home. It’s this beautiful moment of tenderness that most people who know him would never suspect him capable of. Of course, I couldn’t use it. It’s a private moment that none of the narrators witnesses, so I took it out. But I left the dye in the beds of his nails, so I’d remember his tenderness. Eugene is hot-tempered and impulsive, often violent, but it’s hard to dislike him when he’s helping his daughter do the exercises to correct her lazy eye. Most people are capable of both good and bad things, and my job as a writer is not to judge them.

What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?

I spent a lot of time outside as a kid–picking blackberries, digging holes, getting muddy–and I still try to get out into the national forest near my house every day. I was raised to respect trees as living, but I was also raised going out to cut firewood with my dad so we’d have heat.

In Klamath, my family relied on a creek for drinking water, similar to Rich and Colleen’s setup in the book. I was brought up to think about where my drinking water comes from, and how what happens to the forest affects us and the environment. I think that’s why I’m drawn to stories that have a strong link to the natural world.

Visit Ash Davidson's website.

--Marshal Zeringue