Tell us your latest
news.
The last book
in the trilogy, WATERSPELL Book 3: The
Wisewoman, has just hit the shelves. The paperback came out in April, and
the Kindle edition is up at Amazon. Trailing behind both is the Nook e-book.
Barnes & Noble is way slow.
Also, I’ll be
signing books and doing readings June 22–24 at the Roswell International
Sci-Fi Festival (Ros-Con). Readers and fans of fantasy will discover much
to love in Roswell, New Mexico. If it fits your summer travel plans, please
join me there!
When did you first
consider yourself a writer?
I can’t
remember when I wasn’t writing. No
one in my family was a talker. I grew up surrounded by the proverbial strong,
silent type. For me, writing always came more naturally than talking. I wrote letters
to relatives, kept a diary, did “on-the-spot reporting” for family newsletters.
In school, I didn’t dread writing essays or reports. At college I majored in
wildlife science, but eventually switched to journalism when it became clear
that jobs were scarce for park rangers and wildlife biologists. After
graduation, I worked as a magazine editor and feature writer. My first three
books (history and biography) grew out of research I did for magazine articles.
So maybe the
question is: When did I get brave enough to switch from nonfiction to fiction?
I wasn’t sure I could write fiction. For a long time, I didn’t try. I suspected
that writing fiction would be all-consuming: Once I started, I wouldn’t be able
to do anything except write the story that bubbled up inside.
That’s exactly
what happened. After my third book of nonfiction was published, I dedicated
myself to writing the WATERSPELL trilogy. It ruled my life. For more than 10
years, I did almost nothing except work and worry and sweat over my novels.
Writing is fun, that’s true. But it’s also incredibly hard work when a writer
pushes herself to discover and achieve all that she’s truly capable of.
What inspired you to
write your book?
The WATERSPELL
story has been percolating since I was a teenager, or younger. Everything a
writer reads, experiences, learns, or enjoys will influence her writing.
Growing up, I read English Lit: Alice in
Wonderland, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, The Once and Future King. I
also devoured Edgar Allan Poe. Among my favorite SF/F authors were Anne
McCaffrey (Dragonriders of Pern) and
Andre Norton (Witch World). When I
wasn’t reading, I was outdoors communing with nature. WATERSPELL reflects all
these influences and more. It’s a sword-and-sorcery tale with a
science-fictional twist. And between my two central characters—homeless Carin
and dangerous Lord Verek—a romance blossoms. At first, their relationship may
seem unlikely. But by the end of the trilogy, neither can imagine life without
the other.
Maybe that’s a
metaphor for the relationship between WATERSPELL and myself. It may seem
unlikely that someone who once wrote history and biography (books with
footnotes! books that some called scholarly) has produced an intricate,
multilayered, romantic fantasy. But now that Book 3: The Wisewoman has been published, it feels inevitable. I
wrote the story I had to write, and now I hardly remember what my life was
like, pre-WATERSPELL.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I know what I strive for: sharp, clear details; lots
of action; a proper pace (mostly fast but with slower parts as needed); and
realistic, sympathetic, believable characters. I know that verbs are a writer’s
best friends and I try to use them well. A carefully chosen verb can convey as
much as a paragraph!
A literary
agent said of my work: “I was very impressed with the tautness of your writing—your
avoidance of clichés, your fresh similes, your strong verb choices. You also
seem to have an innate sense of rhythm, as well as a solid sense of when to
employ intentional repetition and when to avoid it.”
If I had to
describe my style in a single word, “Brontian” might work. I greatly admire Charlotte
Bronte’s Jane Eyre and Emily’s Wuthering Heights. My leading man, Lord
Verek, owes aspects of his personality to Heathcliff and Rochester. And in
Carin are echoes of a famously strong female character: Jane Eyre. Writers are
shaped by what we read.
How did you come
up with the title?
Stand beside a
thundering waterfall, walk in the rain, or listen to ocean waves pound the
shore, and you’ll fall under a “water spell.” Water is magical. In the
mythologies of many cultures, rivers and other bodies of water are sacred.
Fantastical beings live in water: mermaids, sirens, the Lady of the Lake. In my
story too, water has magical properties. For my characters, water is both a
portal and a source of power. At one point my emotionally scarred sorcerer,
Verek, says to his lady love, when he thinks he may lose her: “Here is water …
I have seen that you need only that to make your magic. I expect you can go
back to your world today, if that is what you wish to do.”
Carin (she’s a
Pisces) is in her element in water. Scorpio is also a water sign, and Verek is the
quintessential Scorpio: dangerous, secretive, proud but loyal, and passionate. The
“water” in the title reflects the oceanic symbolism in my trilogy.
Is there
a message in your novel that you want
readers to grasp?
The subtext is
that things which are harmless or even benign in one setting may cause great
harm in an environment where they are alien. I’ve watched imported fire ants
drive out native species like horned lizards—fire ants will kill young lizards
and even the adults. Rats introduced into Hawaii threaten the native flora and
fauna. West Nile virus has spread across North America. Every summer we hear of
people and horses dying from it. I could go on and on: Pythons in the
Everglades. Here where I live, kudzu, “the plant that ate the South.” The point
is that a nonnative, invasive species can devastate an environment, creating a
catastrophic natural disaster.
That’s what
happens in WATERSPELL: Our heroine, Carin, is shanghaied from her natural home
by a wysard who doesn’t grasp the
enormity of the ecological damage the magical kidnapping will inflict upon a
medieval world. The kidnapping triggers a series of plagues that threaten to
destroy civilization. Nature is badly out of whack, and it is up to my leading
lady and her man—Carin and Lord Verek—to restore balance.
What books
have most influenced your life?
I fell under
the spell of the English Lit I read as a child. Although I grew up on the Great
Plains of the United States, books allowed me to spend a big part of my early
life on the Yorkshire moors.
Also I must
credit the science fiction/fantasy novels of Barbara Hambly. To quote her
Wikipedia profile: “Although magic exists in many of her settings, it is not
used as an easy solution but follows rules and takes energy from the wizards.”
That’s my approach, too. In the world of WATERSPELL, magic is NOT easy.
The books of
Barbara Hambly were my trigger. It was while reading her Sun-Cross books that I decided I, too, could write fantasy. I
recognized something in her style that spoke to my own writerly inclinations. Reading
her work gave me confidence in myself. Thank you, Barbara!
If you had to choose, which writer would you consider
a mentor?
Actually, my
choice for mentor would be Mr. L.H. Blocker, my high school English teacher. He
was tough to the point of ferocity. Very demanding. And scary. He taught me
respect for the English language.
My mentors today
are my critique partners and beta readers. With some, I’ve done long-distance
manuscript exchanges. I’ve joined others for leisurely strolls in the park,
during which we work out the kinks in our muscles as well as our stories. Twice
monthly, my fabulous critique group meets for concentrated work on one
another’s manuscripts. I am lucky to have many professional writers and talented
editors in my life, and from them all I constantly learn. They’ve helped me identify my strengths
and weaknesses.
What book
are you reading now?
Oh gracious!
So many to choose from. On my Nook I’ve got Kenilworth
by Sir Walter Scott, Graceling by
Kristin Cashore, The Complete Works of Jack London, The Year of the Flood and Oryx
and Crake by Margaret Atwood, An
Antarctic Mystery: A Sequel to Edgar Allan Poe's The Narrative of Arthur Gordon
Pym by Jules Verne, and scores of others. When my life settles down a
little and I actually get time to
read, I will probably start Graceling
next. One editor said my story reminded her of Graceling.
Are there any new authors who have grabbed your interest?
Because I
don’t want to be subconsciously influenced, I tend not to read many contemporary
authors. Mostly I read the classics. I understand that Graceling is a debut novel, making Kristin Cashore the first new
author I will have read recently.
What are your current
projects?
My work in
progress is called “Out of Mind.” It’s a story of the paranormal set in the
American West of the far future. I’ve also got a collection of short stories
that I’m trying to shape up for publication.
Can you share a little of your current
work with us?
Gladly! :-)
Here’s the opening scene of “Out of Mind.”
Vapors billowed into the chamber in thick masses of orange.
Devin choked on the sickly sweet odor.
"Don't fight it, child," came the voice--equally
cloying--from the darkness beyond the gas chamber. "Give yourself up to
it."
The gas surged into Devin's face, blinding, gagging her. She
made it go away. With a flash of her will, a mental reflex, she flung it back.
Cool, fresh air flooded her nostrils and drove out the syrupy
stink. She sucked in a clean breath.
"No!" the voice snapped. "You must not."
The therapist dropped her with fifty thousand volts. Devin
collapsed to the floor, her body jerking, nerves on fire. The pain was beyond
enduring. A pain this intense must be lethal. As she convulsed, her muscles in
spasms, she could not scream. No part of her being, not even her voice, was
under her voluntary control.
"Try it again, child," said her therapist, saccharine
once more. The shock ended, the pain faded. "Stand up. And this time, do
not fight it. Or your punishment will be the same: swift, sure, and severe."
Devin struggled upright. She had to brace against the wall of
the gas chamber to keep on her feet. Her muscles were jelly.
An orange cloud flooded the chamber and filled her nose with the
stink of rotting fruit. "Breathe it," her therapist instructed.
"You must."
But again, Devin reacted by instinct alone. No conscious thought
interposed between stimulus and response. The cloud approached; she pushed it
away. Pure reflex, action of mind: act of self-preservation. The gas held back,
suspended in midair, kept at bay solely by her force of will.
On the instant, fifty thousand volts knocked her to the floor.
The pain that must be lethal, but that wouldn't do her the service of killing
her, flooded Devin's tortured flesh. She writhed, silent and barely conscious.
Her therapist withdrew the punishment. Devin remained on the
floor, curled in the fetal position. Her body was hers to command once more,
but her muscles had no strength to obey.
"You give new meaning to the word persistent, don't
you, girl?" muttered the disembodied voice. Then, more forcefully:
"The first step toward healing is to admit you are diseased. Miss
Perridin, you have an illness. A mental disorder. I am offering you the cure
for your illness--in a pleasant aerosol spray that you need only breathe. Once
inhaled, the drug acts quickly. But you must take the first step and
acknowledge that you want to be cured."
The voice grew soft, sugary. "Child, for as long as you
hold to the notion--the mistaken notion--that your disorder is in some way a benefit
to you, you will continue to fail. And you will suffer the consequences of that
failure. We can't have that, can we?"
Devin gathered the remnants of her strength and rolled onto her
back. To stand was impossible; she could barely shape a word. "No," she
whispered. She wasn't speaking to her tormentor.
Is there
anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
Wordiness! I’m
on a perpetual quest to eliminate unnecessary words. Time and again in
revising, I look for cuts. I’ll share a “finished” chapter with my critique
partners and almost invariably they’ll tell me to tighten it. I love words and
enjoy using them: “Succinct” is not my natural state. Multiple passes are
required to tighten my manuscripts.
Who is your favorite
author and what is it
that really strikes you about their work?
Ursula K. Le
Guin leaves me breathless. Her characters are so real. Her settings jump off the page. Here’s an example from the
prologue of The Tombs of Atuan, the
second book of Earthsea:
“Come home, Tenar! Come home!”
In the deep valley, in the twilight, the apple trees were on the
eve of blossoming; here and there among the shadowed boughs one flower had
opened early, rose and white, like a faint star. Down the orchard aisles, in
the thick, new, wet grass, the little girl ran for the joy of running; hearing
the call she did not come at once, but made a long circle before she turned her
face towards home. The mother waiting in the doorway of the hut, with the
firelight behind her, watched the tiny figure running and bobbing like a bit of
thistledown blown over the darkening grass beneath the trees.
* * *
Isn’t that
beautiful? And more than beautiful, it’s clear and evocative, filled with
precise details that pull readers in, putting us in that deep valley, in the twilight, with the thick, wet grass
under our bare feet. Ursula Le Guin is an inspiration to me. Every few years I
reread her Earthsea books.
What was
the hardest part of writing your book?
Getting past
Chapter 1 of Book One. I wasted months, or a year, fiddling with Chapter 1.
Finally I cried aloud in frustration and charged ahead, to complete Book One,
then Two, and eventually Three. It wasn’t until I finished WATERSPELL Book 3: The Wisewoman that I really understood the
layers of the story. At that point I began again from the beginning. With my
fresh, new, clear-eyed grasp of the whole complex series of events and all the
characters’ relationships, I was able to fine-tune the trilogy and declare, at
last, that it was finished.
How long does it take you to
write a book?
Years. Books 1
and 2 of WATERSPELL took about five
years each. Book 3 went faster—maybe two years—because I’d learned enough by
then that I could avoid my earlier mistakes. For one thing, I’d learned to
write spare! It’s MUCH easier to flesh out spare writing than to tighten
verbose writing.
What is your work
schedule like when you're writing?
Insane. I’m a
binge writer. When I’m in the zone I’ll pound the keyboard for hours, never
coming up for air. Parts of WATERSPELL
were written while I lived in the tropics, in an open house on a high mountain lake.
I’d work late into the night, while all around me fell silent except for the
splash of the waves and the occasional hoot of an owl. In the garden were night-blooming
flowers, and their perfumes wafted in through the screen doors. An unearthly
experience. Magical!
When I’m not writing, I’m editing. As an editor,
I keep normal, boring hours: 9-to-5.
What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I’m told I
have Anglo-Saxon sensibilities. That is, I write in direct plain English. I
favor those punchy one-syllable words that derive from Old English, like gut, grip,
lock. A writer friend who’s far more
linguistically knowledgeable than I am told me my words tend to end with hard
consonant sounds: gut, grip, lock. Whereas her writing favors the softer end-sounds of languages
developed from Latin: balance, circumstance, mercy. I’d never analyzed my word choices from that angle, but I do
consciously rely on those short, punchy words to power my writing. If that’s a
quirk, it’s mine. :-)
Do you have anything specific that you want
to say to your readers?
I love this
quote: “The soul that has no fixed goal loses itself; for as they say, to be
everywhere is to be nowhere.” —Michel de Montaigne, a French essayist of the
1500s
I advise
everyone to have a fixed goal in life. It does wonders for organizing your time.
You will be too busy getting “somewhere” to ever end up languishing “nowhere.”
Thank you for
reading this far!
Author Bio
Castles in the cornfield provided the setting
for Deborah J. Lightfoot’s earliest flights of fancy. On her father’s farm in
West Texas, she grew up reading extraordinary tales of adventure and reenacting
them behind tall ramparts of sun-drenched corn. She left the farm to earn a
bachelor of science degree in journalism and write award-winning books of
history and biography, including The LH7 Ranch (University
of North Texas Press) and Trail
Fever (William Morrow, New York).
High on her Bucket List was the desire to try her hand at the genre she most
admired. The result is WATERSPELL, a complex, intricately detailed fantasy that
begins with Book 1: The Warlock and Book 2: The Wysard, and
concludes (for the present) with Book 3: The Wisewoman. But a legal pad
filled with notes and tucked away in a desk drawer suggests a possible Book 4
before the saga may fairly be said to be finished.
Deborah is a professional member of The
Authors Guild. She and her husband live in the country south of Fort Worth,
Texas. Find her online at www.waterspell.net.
LINKS
TO BUY
Drawn
into the schemes of an angry wizard, Carin glimpses the place she once called
home. It lies upon a shore that seems unreachable. To learn where she belongs
and how to get there, the teenage traveler must decipher the words of an alien
book, follow the clues in a bewitched poem, conjure a dragon from a pool of
magic -- and tread carefully around a seductive but volatile, emotionally
scarred sorcerer who can't seem to decide whether to love her or kill
her.
Excerpt from
WATERSPELL Book 1: The Warlock
by Deborah J. Lightfoot
From
Chapter 1.
The Swordsman
It happened too fast to hurt at first. But, oh! the
blood—lots of it, streaming from a gouge that crosscut her knee.
She hunched over the wound, her masses of unkempt hair
tumbling around her face, strands of it trailing in the gore. Blindly Carin
fumbled in her belt-pouch for something to stanch the bleeding. Her fingers met
only flint and steel for fire-making, pebbles for arming her sling, and a length
of twine that was useful for everything from tying back her shaggy auburn mane
to rigging a brush shelter.
Abruptly a hand grasped the shank of her leg, and another
shoved at her shoulder. “Straighten up,” her captor snarled.
Carin threw back her head and flung the hair out of her
eyes. “You!” she gasped. “But—” She hadn’t heard the swordsman’s approaching footsteps—a
seeming impossibility through the crunchy carpet of autumn leaves. Yet here the
man was, crouched beside her and brandishing a dagger. Carin’s hand flew to
shield her throat, but it was her knee he put the blade to.
Stay away from me!
she wanted to shout at him. She couldn’t get the words out—not in a way that
made sense. As sometimes happened when she came unglued, Carin lapsed into a
language of her own. The sounds that passed her lips weren’t gibberish, but no
one ever understood a word she said when she got like this. Carin yelled at the
man, in her own private language, and tried to wrench free of his grasp.
“Stop your noise,” he barked. He held her leg tighter and
waved his dagger in her face. “If you can’t be quiet, I’ll cut out your
tongue.”
Copyright © 2011–2012 by Deborah J.
Lightfoot. All Rights Reserved.
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