Fantastic Metropolis

The career of D. F. Lewis is certainly one to be envied, with over 1,400 stories published in little over fifteen years, and the special Karl Edward Wagner Award presented to him by the British Fantasy Society in 1998. His published collections include Only Connect (written in collaboration with his father), The Weirdmonger’s Tales, and The Best of D. F. Lewis. He also wrote the novella Agra Aska, published by Scorpion Press in 1998. Presently, D. F. Lewis edits Nemonymous, a rare breed of magazine/anthology in which all fiction is published anonymously, and which was inaugurated last November to critical acclaim. I conducted this interview via e-mail in late July 2002.

---

Luís Rodrigues: At what age did you start writing professionally and what authors were most important to you at the time? Did they play a significant role in your career choice?

D. F. Lewis: I don’t think I’ve ever started writing professionally! Well, I’ve not earned any money from it. I’ve written creatively all my life—off and on. Student poems during my university years in the late sixties—when I also founded a pretentious Dada art thing called the Zeroist Group. We even got a grant for it! I think maybe Nemonymous was born (parthenogenetically) at that time! I am always interested in breaking down barriers towards the ‘pure art’... pretentious or what? Ah well. Whatever the case, I wrote a novel-length accretion called The Visitor in the early seventies, inspired by the fiction works of John Barth, by H. P. Lovecraft (whom I encountered at an impressionable age, having been at school with an HPL fan, Michel Parry, who became a noted anthologist in the seventies)—and by Astrology (which I’ve now lost interest in). And other influences too numerous to mention. In the early eighties, I wrote the novella Agra Aska. Seemed the culmination of various influences at work (Robert Aickman, Poe, Ligotti, Lovecraft, Elizabeth Bowen, Charles Dickens, John Fowles etc.), and was the only thing I really wrote when my children were young. Everything I’ve ever written was on an amateur basis, even when I started submitting stories (inspired by Agra Aska) in 1986 and went on, somehow, to get loads of them published in all sorts of outlets (amateur and professional). It was a sort of mania, obsession—which unaccountably stopped last year with the autonomous (?) emergence of Nemonymous.

Luís Rodrigues: People today may be a little unaccustomed to established authors who deal primarily in short fiction, especially when they are as prolific as yourself. What is it in short fiction that appeals to you?

D. F. Lewis: Stories, at their best, seem to be the purest form of the fiction art—cut to the bone. Even my novel-length works are aspirationally accretions of such items. It just seems the natural way to write fiction—bringing it nearer to reality itself (rather than just suppressed disbelief), as if you’re tapping into a reservoir (Jungian?) of discrete ideas that underpin life itself. So-called novels seem more amorphous, more fabricated.

Luís Rodrigues: Besides, tapping into the Collective Unconscious is particularly important in horror literature…

D. F. Lewis: Yes—and let’s be honest, I see Nemonymous (as it progresses) as a single ‘horror literature’-orientated anthology (an episodic one)—yet with discrete elements of mainstream-literary, magic-realism, fantasy and absurdism as constituents towards that synergy.

Luís Rodrigues: Publishers today seem to prefer novels, each more massive than the previous. Several authors appear to use their short stories merely as stepping stones in order to obtain recognition near publishing houses, until they can sell their longer works. Do you regret the fact there aren’t enough people specialising in short fiction?

D. F. Lewis: Well, yes—simply to give short story editors and publishers more diverse sources to choose from. Meanwhile, publishers, though, have decided, it seems, to publish blockbuster novels for those short-span attentions that have been engendered by other media. I sound paradoxical (and patronising!), but it is easier for many people to concentrate on long novels each occasion they pick it up.

Luís Rodrigues: It does make sense. Do you believe people have an aversion to ideas being thrown at them every ten pages, particularly when they’re not mollycoddled with familiar characters and setting that have to be thoroughly portrayed? Quite often you can find more mind-bombs in a 100-page collection than in an 800-page novel…

D. F. Lewis: Well, I’ve never really thought of it like that, but you make an interesting point. Mind-bombs? What a lovely expression in this context. And, indeed, judging by the reaction I’ve received from readers about the Nemonymous experience and by the way people, perhaps, regard the presentation there as revelatory and giving new angles or easier interconnections between the stories because of the lack of by-lines (and, hopefully, the way I’ve tried to orchestrate them and present them physically), the mind-bombs are more easily assimilated.

Luís Rodrigues: What novels would you consider an exception to this?

D. F. Lewis: Proust! I am currently involved in my second reading of this after 30 years. I had a dream before starting this fresh rite of passage through Proust. There was a house fire and one of the inhabitants escaped rather later than the others by the skin of his teeth. When asked about this, he said he had been in the middle of a sentence by Proust. Actually, there are many novels that I admire: including some by Stephen King, Barbara Vine, John Fowles, A.S. Byatt, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Bowen…

Luís Rodrigues: Last year you announced you’d stop writing and focus solely on Nemonymous. However, you still have some work that remains unpublished, like your two novels Miscreant in Moonstream and Emoss Crack. Any chance we might see those soon?

D. F. Lewis: Emoss Crack and Miscreant in Moonstream are in fact examples of those accretions I’ve mentioned. Gradually in this decade (the noughties?), I’ve lost faith in my own writing. I no longer write it or actively market it. So very little chance, I reckon, in anyone seeing these in the near future. However, over recent years, I’ve collaborated on stories with many people (‘famous’ and unknown), a process which seems to fit in better with a more impersonal credo of fiction creation. Fits in with the ‘Jungian’ approach, too, I guess. And I still collaborate from time to time.

Luís Rodrigues: And in November 2001, Nemonymous was quietly born. Please tell us about the magazine’s innovative concept, your goals, and how everything started.

D. F. Lewis: Yes, it was quietly born. The collaborations were one thing, but probably not ‘pure’ enough for me. I felt the need to orchestrate other people’s words as discrete blocks of independent text. I also had several discussions on the net about literary theories I’ve always been interested in—for example, the Intentional Fallacy… together with a major passion of mine: modern ‘classical’ music. All seemed to point in one direction and, like Captain Nemo, I wanted to take other people on board with me to see the ‘underwater’ sights! Ideally, I would have wanted the stories to remain anonymous (or parthenogenetic) forever but, I guess, I would not have got any submissions at all without the promise of ‘late labelling’. The question of ego comes in here.

The goal? Well, it is for Nemonymous to become a proud entity in itself—not given away—but self-sufficient financially. From comments I’ve had so far, the approach of Nemonymous has given a revelatory and enjoyable new angle to short fiction reading. In fact, I’ve been amazed at some of the acclaim it has obtained. Much of this has to do with the financial investment I’ve made, and the skills of the cover designer and typesetter/printer whom I chose to use.

Accidentally effective? Or well-considered? Well-intentioned? Or just a crazy flash in the pan? Whatever the case, I do claim it is the very first time this approach has been attempted.

Luís Rodrigues: How have authors reacted to Nemonymous, both before and after its début? Do you still hope some will be willing to submit work to a truly anonymous anthology at some point in the future?

D. F. Lewis: I received lots of ridicule from various sources when they heard about Nemonymous. I still do. But many writers and readers are coming round to it (and those who were in Nemonymous Part One have been positively exultant!). I envisage (if I can keep Nemonymous going at all) that a permanent anonymous edition will be published one day (and it would be convenient, of course, if it is the final edition!)—anonymous to me, too, perhaps, if the contract transactions can be worked out… By the way, in 1999, I started a fiction collaboration email group (which is still going) whereby all resultant stories have been by-lined ‘Wordhunger’.

Luís Rodrigues: The concept of anonymity in Nemonymous relies heavily on authors not mouthing off about their presence in the magazine. Is there some kind of hideous punishment in store for those who break the rules? Does each writer know who the others are?

D. F. Lewis: I have a contract that I designed and, touch wood, I’ve had no problem so far. I find the authors are keen to get into the spirit of Nemonymous and maintain the veils and piques of their anonymity! I allowed the authors in Nemonymous Part One to know the identities of each other before the general readership did. I see them as a team… a submarine crew…

Luís Rodrigues: You mentioned the positive criticism the magazine’s looks have received. Do you like to think its physical aspect contributes to a greater enjoyment of the stories inside, or do you trust readers won’t judge the book by its cover?

D. F. Lewis: Yes, I’ve heard that comment time and time again. I am certain that stories act differently according to their context of presentation—or they may even be different! The Nemonymous covers I’ve wanted to be as neutral as possible. A few years ago, I caused a lot of stir in Scavenger’s Newsletter when I recommended that fiction magazines should be stripped of all artwork. This was for various reasons, but mainly, I recall, for what I called ‘pictorial privacy’. The logo designs on the two current parts of Nemonymous have been a sort of compromise between this required plainness and an inscrutable attractiveness. The cover designer, I feel, has been spot on with my requirements.

Luís Rodrigues: I couldn’t help noticing that Nemonymous Two has a darker and more consistent feel than the previous issue. Do you plan to keep steering it in this direction? Are you concerned with finding “the right tone” for the magazine?

D. F. Lewis: That’s strange, because I’ve had quite contrary views expressed about the differences between the two current parts (as well as conflicting views on the stories themselves—and I wonder if this is a symptom of the Nemonymous approach). Yes, I have been trying for a specific tone and identity, but this has been rather by trial and error. I think I may have gained more experience by the second part. After all, part one was my first ever attempt at publication and at editing. I’ll have to leave it for others to judge. The real problem for me has been giving people the opportunity to judge (i.e. marketing and distributing it!)

Luís Rodrigues: The internet has certainly played an instrumental role in its promotion, yes?

D. F. Lewis: Well, yes. But, again, this is all a bit paradoxical. I consider that my recent loss of faith in my own work stems from the Internet. With all the stories I got published on websites, I lost track of my own bibliography! My focus vanished. So, I thought I would use the Internet as the underpinning of a print outlet (which turned out to be Nemonymous). This seemed appropriate so as to maintain my own anonymity within its covers! It has a website as its sole printed address. I also have a newsletter that contains submission guidelines, reviews, sponsorships, competitions, comments, ground-breaking ‘loan copies of Nemonymous for writers’ etc.—via a series of Veils and Piques (which I consider to be very successful).

Luís Rodrigues: You are currently accepting submissions for Nemonymous Three, which is due out next year. What do writers seeking nemonymity need to do?

D. F. Lewis: Please contact nemonymous@hotmail.com for submission guidelines and apprisal of the essential veils & piques!

Luís Rodrigues: And now, the inevitable question: any advice you’d like to give short story writers out there?

D. F. Lewis: I’m the last person who should do this. I have received plaudits and brickbats all my writing life. Yet I never wrote ‘standard’ stories! I do know, though, a nemonymous story when I see one.

Luís Rodrigues: Thank you very much for this interview, and best of luck to Nemonymous!

D. F. Lewis: Thanks, Luís. Hope that at least some of what I said made sense in the context of this slippery nemo creature. It has so many tentacles and control-points, I feel that I’m the magazine and it is the editor.