Fantastic Metropolis

The obligatory intro…

Lisa Tuttle defies categorization. At 50, this Texas native, Scotland transplant who earned her BA in English Literature from Syracuse University continues to write ground-breaking fiction. Her publishing career began early, taking flight when her first story, “Stranger in the House” appeared in 1972’s Clarion II anthology edited by Robin Wilson. She won the John W. Campbell Award in 1974 for Best New Writer and collaborated with George R.R. Martin on “The Storms of Windhaven” in 1975 which won a Hugo Award and led to their novel, Windhaven in 1981. Solo adult novels include: Familiar Spirit, 1983; Angela’s Rainbow, 1983; Gabriel, 1987; Lost Futures (shortlisted for the Arthur C. Clarke Award and the Tiptree Award), 1993; and The Pillow Friend, 1996.

Tuttle’s juvenile literature includes Catwitch, a collaboration with illustrator Una Woodruff a playful children’s fantasy book which adults can enjoy and some solo YA titles that have only been published in the UK:

• Panther in Argyll (a dark fantasy for ages 10 and up)
• Snake Inside (YA thriller/psychological suspense)
• Mad House (light-hearted SF for younger readers, age approx 7 to 9)
• Love-on-Line (YA romantic mystery set in cyberspace virtual reality and an American high school)

She also contributed to The Dolphin Diaries YA series which is published under the house name, Lucy Daniels (UK) and under Ben M. Baglio in the US by Scholastic.

Her nonfiction includes Encyclopedia of Feminism, (1986) and Writing Fantasy and Science Fiction, 2002.

Short story collections include: A Nest of Nightmares, 1986; A Spaceship Built of Stone and Other Stories, 1987; Memories of the Body, 1992, Ghosts and Other Lovers, 2001, and My Pathology (e-book ; 2001). Her award-winning short stories often feature strong-willed women (much like Tuttle herself) questioning their lives, identities and gender issues with a probing, insightful reverence.

David Barrett, City Limits (UK) once said of Tuttle’s stories, “Her stories are emotionally uncomfortable… they’re powerful, they’re brilliant, they hurt… and they’re very special. They not only make you think, they make you feel…”

As an editor, Tuttle also showcases her humor, intelligence and eye for talent. Skin of the Soul: New Horror Stories by Women, appeared from the Women’s Press of Great Britain in 1990 and was subsequently published in other countries. Crossing the Border, 1998, an anthology published in the UK examined erotic genderbending with exuberant flair.

Tuttle lives a seemingly quiet life in a scenic village in Scotland with her husband Colin Murray and their daughter, Emily. She’s just finished a new novel and is already hard at work on a new one. She has taught at Clarion West and at the Citylit College, part of London University. While living in Austin, Texas, she helped originate the Turkey City Workshops where participants such as Chad Oliver (the defacto Dean of TC), Howard Waldrop, Bruce Sterling, Lewis Shiner, Steven Utley, George R.R. Martin, Leigh Kennedy, myself and others honed their skills as storytellers.

When she left to live in England after meeting and later marrying Christopher Priest, Austin was never the same. Eventually, many TCW participants scattered across the globe but the influence of those workshops is still being felt. After her marriage to Priest ended in 1985, Tuttle remained overseas, met and married editor Murray.

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... and now the unexpurgated question and answer segment

M.M. Hall: In ‘83 you wrote the mysterious text for an erotic story book featuring illustrations by Michael Johnson that too few people had access to. It begins: “When I was a child I was magic and did not know it…” one of the best opening lines I’ve ever read. Later on in the text you write: “My power encompasssed me like a shield. At times it seemed more punishment than blessing, for I could not cast if off and it isolated me even among crowds. I was always alone…” Were you talking about yourself?

Lisa Tuttle: Goodness, no! (I have no supernatural powers; none of the rumours are true.) There are sometimes autobiographical elements in my fiction, but this isn’t one of them. I wrote the text of Angela’s Rainbow specifically to accompany a series of paintings by the artist Michael Johnson. What I wrote was in response to the pictures, which already had an order decided on by the artist—it was then up to me to attempt to create some sort of narrative, if I could, which would link them in some way. The publisher gave me a fixed word-length, not just for the entire text, but also how many words were to be on each page, and where those pages would be placed in relation to the pictures—which has got to be the oddest way I ever had to write a piece of fiction! Yet somehow it did work out; I actually felt quite pleased with it in the end.

M.M. Hall: Well, I think it could be reprinted in a collection without the artwork and still stand up. Any chance of that? And after reading this, someone may wonder if it can still be purchased. Has it become a rarity?

Lisa Tuttle: There’s no chance of me having the story published elsewhere, as the publisher owns all rights. I don’t know whether or not the book is still easily available.

M.M. Hall: Describe the moment you decide you were a writer.

Lisa Tuttle: Oh, I can’t remember the actual moment. For as long as I can remember, reading and writing went together. As soon as I’d learned to read and write, I loved to read, and started writing my own stories.

M.M. Hall: What was your very first story? Mine was in the fourth grade. I wrote a story about the nun who was my sixth grade teacher going beserk, whipping a gun out from beneath her habit and shooting us all for laughing too much. She actually grabbed it off my desk (I had illustrated it as well) and laughed, saying she had to show it to Mother Superior. I thought I was a goner but I wasn’t punished for it–and maybe that’s why I thought I could be a writer?

Lisa Tuttle: I can’t remember my very first story (perhaps my mother still has it tucked away somewhere?) but it was certainly written before fourth grade, most likely in second grade because I’m sure I didn’t have the writing skills necessary in the first grade! I may not remember the actual details of my very first story, but I do strongly recall the thrill and satisfaction of writing them in pencil on a Big Chief Tablet. (I don’t know if these iconic artifacts are still produced, but I remember that as late as the mid-1970s, Howard Waldrop wrote an entire short novel on a Big Chief Tablet.) Around the ages of 8 to 10, one of my favourite words was “mysterious”—although I didn’t know how to spell it—and I wrote a number of stories with titles like “The Myserous Voice” and “The Mysterus Door.” These generally involved a small group of children, bored out of their minds in their quiet, suburban homes, discovering a previously unseen door which led into an amazing underground world; or finding a magical object which could grant wishes; or seeing a strange, ghostly person or light and following it into some adventure. Whenever I discovered a book I especially enjoyed, I would promptly try my hand at writing my own version—I remember writing about children who had a magic, flying bed after reading Mary Norton’s Bedknobs and Broomsticks. I also played games with trolls (do you remember those “Dam” things?) or other small toys with my friend and neighbour Shelly Cain; we especially liked creating tiny objects, furniture, clothes, houses, etc for our toys as well as making up adventures for them, so I was always writing (in as tiny a hand as I could manage) little stories and then making them into little books. I used to make up ghost stories, too, gathering Shelly and her little sister Vicki, and my sister Megan, into some enclosed space (the cedar closet where out of season clothes were stored was one favourite spot; we also had a play-house made out of a piano box) where I would elaborate the scariest tales I could invent.

M.M. Hall: Tell us about the influences upon your early and than later writing life. I’ve read that you have stated Shirley Jackson, Robert Aickman and M.R. James were big influences. What about Harlan Ellison, Virgina Woolf and George R.R. Martin?

Lisa Tuttle: Harlan was a huge influence and was a mentor to me. He helped in all kinds of ways, including materially (giving me a place to live) and critically (going over some of my stories on a word-by-word basis to help me improve them). His committment to the short story as an art form was enormously inspirational to me, personally—a good corrective to the emphasis always on the novel in other quarters—and he’s been a good friend to me over the years. Not to mention how much fun it’s been hanging out with him… and a very educational experience! Before I met Harlan, I was knocked sideways by Dangerous Visions when I read it as a young teenager, and promptly wrote him a fan letter. But as writers, stylistically and in other ways, we are very different, and I doubt anyone reading my stories side by side with his would recognize a connection… . and yet, as I write that, I recall that there is a direct, traceable connection between one of my books for children, Mad House, which is about an intelligent, self-aware, computer-run house, and Harlan’s classic short story “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream.” So maybe some astute literary critic would be able to winkle out even more connections elsewhere.

Virginia Woolf is a great iconic figure for me—people who knew me in Austin in the ’70s may remember me in my Virginia Woolf T-shirt. (Alas, it has shrunk and I’ve expanded so I’ve had to pass it down to my daughter.) I don’t think Woolf has been much of an influence on my writing—although I have been working on a novella called “The Woolfwoman” which is about someone obsessed with VW. For the most part I prefer reading Woolf’s diaries and letters to most of her novels, although I do love “Mrs Dalloway” and have lately been wanting to reread “To the Lighthouse.”

George R.R. Martin is a dear friend of long standing; I first got to know him when we were both just making our first professional sales of short stories—we were both on the short list for the John W. Campbell Award, though neither of us won that year (it went to Jerry Pournelle). We were part of a group of writers, mostly based in Texas (George was the odd one out, geographically)—including Howard Waldrop, Steven Utley and Tom Reamy—who not only competed with and helped each other, but also collaborated on stories together, so I suppose we all did influence each other and learn from each other to some extent. Though probably not to such a degree that anyone would classify us as a cohesive literary group. (The Turkey City School, perhaps? The mind boggles!) I think George and I were always headed on quite different tracks, although we did manage to come together long enough to write one novel, Windhaven, together.

If I said M.R. James, Shirley Jackson and Robert Aickman were influences, that’s because I can identify them as being my literary forebears in one genre I often write in—call it the ghost story, dark fantasy, tales of unease. I feel we’re on common ground, and they are among the writers I most admire in that field. Others I feel are conscious literary influences in the same way are Ray Bradbury (I can even remember, when I was much younger, trying to write a “Bradbury”-style story of my own) and Theodore Sturgeon.

M.M. Hall: You’ve collaborated with Steven Utley and George R.R. Martin. Do you enjoy collaborative work and do you think you’ll ever collaborate again with another writer?

Lisa Tuttle: I’ve also collaborated with my husband on an unsold novel, although that was a very different process from previous collaborations. It was an idea that we developed together, but then he did all the writing himself; I just made suggestions and comments along the way, most of which he incorporated. Other collaborations have been with artists or editors, where I’ve effectively done all the writing. I do enjoy certain aspects of collaboration—there is no doubt that it can be a tremendous help to have someone else to work with, to bounce ideas back and forth and so on—but it’s not something I am that eager to do; especially not the kind of back-and-forth, shared-writing collaborations I was invovled with when I was in my twenties. (Not only with Steven Utley and George R.R. Martin, but also with Joe Pumilia, Bill Wallace, and possibly others I don’t immediately recall… ) I wouldn’t say “never”—it very much depends on the particular project and the other writer.

M.M. Hall: Now you could hardly be defined as a genre writer. Why were you drawn to science fiction? Horror?

Lisa Tuttle: As a reader, first of all. And what I especially enjoyed reading became, not surprisingly, what I most liked to write. I’m attracted to the intellectual aspect of SF —I like fiction which deals straight-forwardly with ideas, fiction which is intellectually stimulating and questioning. I like the idea of SF as “thought-experiment”—although mostly in a social and personal sense. I like trying to figure out what it would feel like to be immortal, for example, or to live in a society with dramatically different values and ideals than our own.

But what I write more often falls into the “horror” or dark fantasy category. I’m not sure quite why I am so drawn to that area… doubtless there is some deep psychological need being fulfilled! I don’t actually like horror movies very much—I prefer being made uneasy or unsettled to being terrified, and I don’t care for “gross out” scenes at all. The so-called “splatterpunk” movement was definitely not my scene. When I write (or read) horror, it’s the emotional and psychological aspect that interests me. It’s a different way of representing reality, a way of examining character in extreme and dramatic circumstances. I like to read and write fantasy—but most of what is published and presented as “fantasy” does not interest me at all. I find it difficult to get interested in totally made-up worlds with (what seems to me to be) arbitrary use of magic. I think fantasy is most effective when it is connected with reality. That’s why I tend to prefer SF to genre fantasy, and near-future SF at that, which takes this world as its starting point, rather than a story set in an invented, self-contained other-world.

I am still very drawn to aspects of fantasy, science fiction and horror, but the more generic it is, the less interested I am. I like to make my own use of the material.

M.M. Hall: You’ve also been a critic and a judge for various awards. I recall seeing your many, many books in some of your apartments and homes. Do you have any favorite authors? Can you cull them down to, say, ten?

Lisa Tuttle: Ah, so seductive, this question, and so difficult! I still have far, far too many books. We live in a very small house, so, although we’ve got as many bookshelves as we can fit in everyroom, and there are books stacked on the floor in my office and in Colin’s, there are also lots of boxes of books in the attic. I have finally had to start “culling” some, and I know I should get rid of hundreds more—but it is so difficult! Some I keep for sensible reasons, knowing I might need it for background research for something I might write (can’t count on libraries anymore; they are all getting rid of books, too, and have no budgets to speak of) but I also hate giving up a book I have enjoyed reading even though I know the likelihood of my ever rereading it is small. I seem to be delaying answering your question. I have been giving it a lot of thought. I will have to leave out so many, but, keeping it to two lists of ten, I’ll start with some old favourites, writers I have loved for many years: E. Nesbit, Louisa May Alcott, Alan Garner, John Fowles, Joanna Russ, Ursula LeGuin, Willa Cather, George Orwell, Henry James, Elizabeth Taylor. And then, a few of the writers I’ve been reading with most pleasure and admiration in recent years: A.S. Byatt, Jonathan Carroll, John Crowley, Patricia Duncker, Michel Faber, Russell Hoban, A.L. Kennedy, James Sallis, W.G. Sebald, Sarah Waters.

At the moment, I am at a crucial point in rewriting my novel-in-progress, so am forcing myself to keep away from other people’s fiction, fearful that I’ll either be “infected” by their style (and wind up sounding like a second-rate imitation of a good writer) or so impressed by someone else’s novel that I’ll give up on my own in despair… so I have mostly been reading non-fiction. But, of course, I can’t resist buying new books, and they are stacking up to be read as soon as I am “free”—I’ve got a trip to London planned, and am looking forward to reading a really good book on the trip down. There are several vying for my attention, but the one I am most eager to read is The Separation by Christopher Priest. I was impressed by Chris’s work before I ever met him, and I still feel that he is one of the most interesting (and sadly under-rated) of all contemporary English novelists.

M.M. Hall: How has Chris’s work influenced your own work?

Lisa Tuttle: It probably has, but I couldn’t say how, or how much. When we first met we discovered we were on the same wave-length about many subjects, interested in the same kind of questions and literary problems in our own work, admired many of the same writers. Once I came to live over here, I gradually became more British and European in my outlook and my writing voice has come to sound less American—but again, how much of that was influenced by Chris, and how much by a lot of other factors, I don’t know. Just as when I was in Texas I spent a lot of time with other writers, so it was in London—not just Chris Priest, but Robert Holdstock, Christopher Evans, Garry Kilworth, R.M. Lamming, Gwyneth Jones, David Garnett, Sarah LeFanu… the list could go on. These writers became close personal friends, and I also attended writing workshops with them and others; in addition, of course, I’ve read their work with close attention, and we’ve shared ideas and criticism. So there’s been both personal and literary influences all around.

M.M. Hall: Colin Murray, your husband is also a gifted editor. Is he your first reader and does he help out in editing your work before it heads off to the publisher?

Lisa Tuttle: He’s usually my first reader, and he does make comments, when I ask for them, about my work at various stages. I’ve never asked him to actually edit my work, though. (Hey, that’s his job; he gets paid for that!)

M.M. Hall: Feminism helped shape you as an author. Do you have any comments on the state of world feminism?

Lisa Tuttle: I’m afraid I don’t know much about it! What is the state of “world feminism”? In some countries women have achieved freedoms and responsibilities and rights nearly equal to those of the men of their own class, and have little to complain about; oppression of women as a class is much less commonplace and pernicious than it was when I was a child—though that is not to say it is non-existant. This is probably why, for a lot of women in America, “feminism” appears to have become largely a theoretical, academic study. But in other parts of the world, feminism has scarcely been felt, and it continues to be a necessary battle. But these days the idea that “patriarchy” is a great evil or that women are uniquely oppressed seems very old-fashioned—I certainly feel that unrestrained capitalism, and the glorifying of “market forces” is a much greater danger to women (_and_ men) than some notion of “male oppression.” Sorry if this is all a bit of a jumble, and rather off the top of my head—a very serious subject, which I’m not equipped to address.

M.M. Hall: You probably know more than you give yourself credit for, certainly more than I do. You did write the Encyclopedia of Feminism, afterall! The word “feminist” in the past ten years or so has assumed a stain. Why do you think that is?

Lisa Tuttle: It had a stain when it began! Believe me, this stain is not recent. I want to quote something Rebecca West said, but unfortunately can’t recall it exactly—it was something along the lines of being a feminist was just the sensible stance of refusing to be treated like a doormat instead of a person. Take a look at the history of that phrase “I’m not a feminist, but…” which I recall Ms. Magazine making great play with more than twenty years ago. And the number of times “feminism” and “feminist” has had to be re-defined is mind-boggling. Basically, what underlies any form of feminism (and there are many, some a lot more radical than the perfectly obvious idea of expecting to be treated like a human being first and foremost) is the idea that women can and should be looked at as a class; that women have been systematically deprived or mistreated entirely on the basis of their gender. Some people (male and female) don’t like to believe that, and take offense at any attempt to suggest it might be so, which doesn’t necessarily mean that they are sexists who believe women are naturally inferior to men. (Unfortunately, there are still a few troglodytes who do think that way, and I will accept no excuses from unrepentant sexists!) Others simply feel that there are other, more pernicious distinctions (class, race, age) which should be addressed more urgently, and that, for example, black women should make common cause with black men against an oppressive white-dominated society, rather than trying to team up with white women. Because of the confusion between “sex” as sexuality and sex meaning gender, being “feminist” is sometimes equated with “lesbian”—not that lesbian should be a derogatory description, but certainly in the recent past it has been used as an attempt to belittle and diminish women, to imply “not normal” or “unattractive to men.” So, Ithink there are lots of reasons why “feminism” may be rather unpopular at present.

I do know quite a lot about the history of feminism—and at various times in my life I’ve been involved in various feminist campaigns or women’s organizations—but I do feel I’ve become rather out of it over the last decade—that’s why I hesitate to make any great statements about what feminism is, because I don’t really know what it is right now. I do get the impression that in some ways it has become a largely academic discipline, connected with gender studies, and not as grass-roots and political and immediate as it once was… but this is just the impression of someone way out on the sidelines.

M.M. Hall: You chose two seminal stories to be posted here to represent your large body of exquisite short fiction, “The Wound” and “The Cure”. Why these two stories?

Lisa Tuttle: Actually, I couldn’t choose from my entire body of work as I’d recently had two collections of my short fiction published as e-books, so don’t have the rights to use those stories on-line. One book (My Pathology) ranges throughout my career and my three previous collections, and the other (Ghosts and Other Lovers) contains most of my more recent short stories. So actually I was looking mostly at the stories that got left out of those collections, and chose two of my all-time favourites. I feel that “The Wound” is one of the best stories I’ve ever written, and also that it marked a sort of turning point for me as a writer, away from a type of story I’d learned to write with a certain amount of skill, into more uncharted territory. One of the best responses I’ve ever had to any story came when I brought “The Wound”, freshly written, to a writers’ group in London—when it was her turn to comment, one of the other writers burst into tears! She had been so moved by the story, she could not speak. I don’t often get to see the effect of my stories on readers, and I’m sure they seldom get such a powerful reaction, so that was a memorable experience for me, and suggested that others might also find it a good story. As for “The Cure,” although that is an even older story (and feels sometimes as if I wrote it in another life-time!) I think it holds up well, and it is another personal favourite.

Both stories deal with subjects (gender and language) which are extremely important to me, and which I often write about, so I thought they could stand as representative of my work, both past and present.

M.M. Hall: In 1980, “Where the Stones Grow” appeared in Kirby McCauley’s landmark horror anthology, Dark Forces. How did that change your career?

Lisa Tuttle: Why do you think it did? Sorry—getting tone across in writing is difficult—I mean that as a genuine question. Do you think it did?

M.M. Hall: Yes, I think it was rather a watermark in your career which indicated a shift from your SF presence into the dark speculative fiction phase–or horror/psychological shape/mind shifting stories. And as for The Pillow Friend I detected another shift (in your adult fiction) to the literary mainstream. You gave it a shadowy ambiguity that was as sophisticated as it was frightening. “Where the Stones Grow” is deceptively simple. The “place where the stones go” “where the three sisters go” and where “they will kill anyone who sees them” can be anyplace and stones aren’t supposed to grow. There’s a lot going on there in a very small space. Which story or novel–so far truly made you sit up and take notice?

Lisa Tuttle: As far as I’m aware, it (“Where the Stones Grow”) had no more impact on my writing career than any of the other short stories I wrote and sold throughout the 1970s… perhaps rather less, since, as far as I’m aware, it garnered no controversy, no award nominations, no fan mail… I don’t even think it was ever reprinted outside that anthology! Not that I’m saying it should have been; I don’t think it is one of my best stories. As for what you say about the story marking a shift away from SF and into darker, supernatural fantasy—well, I can see that it might appear that way from the outside, due to when it appeared. It doesn’t feel that way to me because it was not the first, but more like the sixth or seventh story I wrote in a particular sequence as I moved more determinedly into fantasy/horror/supernatural fiction, irregardless of what the market at that time was like. Leaving out a few very early stories (and, after all, my very first published short story “Stranger in the House” fits this classification—it was certainly not SF!), there was “The Horse Lord” (written in 1976) “Bug House” (written in 1978), “Sun City” (1978), “The Other Room” (March 1979), “The Other Mother” (June 1979)—following which, in July 1979, I wrote “Where the Stones Grow.” Apart from “The Horse Lord,” which was published in 1977, and “The Other Room” which didn’t appear until much later, all of those stories written in 1978 and 1979 were published in 1980. Personally I felt that “Sun City” (which appeared in Ramsey Campbell’s ground-breaking New Terrors anthology first published in the UK in 1980) was more significant in the terms of where I was going as a writer. And of all those stories, the one which meant the most to me was “The Other Mother.” That one originated in a dream, and was also a story in which I was trying to deal with some very significant and powerful issues—motherhood and creativity, madness and myth. It also seems somehow typical of the way I work that I should have written that story about being a mother and an artist more than a decade before actually becoming a mother in real life!

My first post-natal story to deal with in any way with motherhood was “Replacements”, written when my daughter was only seven months old. Make of that what you will…

M.M. Hall: Re. “Bug House”–that story made quite an impact on me and was one of the reasons I decided to refer to you as a “Mentor”! I think it was one of your best early horror stories and encouraged me to try harder in my own work to tap into emotional issues deeper. I think “Where the Stones Grow” and the anthology, Dark Forces was a clarion call re. horror–certainly it was a publishing watermark and I’m glad your voice was included.

Lisa Tuttle: Yes, I’m certainly glad to have been included in such an impressive “state of the art” anthology—just the other day I read a reference to it as “the mythical Dark Forces”—and at the time (I was then still in my twenties) I felt hugely flattered to have been invited to contribute, and to have one of my stories included with works by writers I was in awe of, like Joyce Carol Oates, Ray Bradbury, Theodore Sturgeon… I’m flattered by what you say about “Bug House” which seems, from the number of times it has been reprinted, to have become one of my best-known stories. It’s strange to realize how long ago I wrote that story—almost twenty-five years ago!

M.M. Hall: You could almost divide your career in threes: Austin, London and Torinturk. Do you see yourself as an American or Scottish soul now?

Lisa Tuttle: Born in the USA, (not to mentioned raised) so I’ll always be an American. But, after living in Britain for over twenty years—the major part of my adult life—as a writer I’m more British than American.

M.M. Hall: Do you prefer to write novels or short stories? Which format fulfills you the most?

Lisa Tuttle: Up until five or six years ago I would have said I was basically a short story writer who had managed to write a few novels. But gradually I’ve felt a change coming over me, and now, although I still haven’t written that many novels (certainly not as many as I feel I “should” have by now) I seem to be working, and thinking, in a different way. I feel more drawn to writing novels, and I don’t get as many ideas for short stories as I once did. I think of myself more as a novelist now. In some way I can’t really explain, writing The Pillow Friend seemed like an “ending” of one phase of my life as a writer. Almost everything I’d written a short story about is echoed or reappears in the novel. After dealing with all those obsessions, I hope I can now move on to somewhat different territory.

M.M. Hall: You once declined a Nebula for a short story, “The Bone Flute” but have served on various award committees. Do you regret declining it now?

Lisa Tuttle: Hmmm. I think my main regret is that people may assume that I object to awards on principle, and never nominate anything by me for anything again! I would love to win some awards, especially ones with money attached…

M.M. Hall: Will you continue to write juvenile literature or focus on adult fiction now?

Lisa Tuttle: After I finish the novel I’m writing now, I have a children’s novel (fantasy) which I want to write; I also have ideas for another children’s book, a (more-or-less mainstream) adult novel, and at least two novellas. I certainly hope to continue to write for more than one age group.

M.M. Hall: Tell us about your writing book for A&C Black. How did that come about? Any chance it will come out in the U.S.?

Lisa Tuttle: I think that as far as the publisher is concerned, it has come out in the US. At least, I think they are distributing it there. How it came about was just very standard and boring—it wasn’t something I had been dying to write, or even thought about very much before, but I was asked if I would write it at the very moment that I was casting about rather desperately for something I could do and get paid for. Oddly enough, the previous books in this series from A&C Black, Writing Science Fiction and Writing Fantasy were both written by friends of mine (Christopher Evans and Sarah LeFanu), both of whom quoted me and acknowledged my help with thanks! Anyway, the publisher had decided that it was time to update, and felt a single volume devoted to both SF and Fantasy would be more appropriate, and I think Sarah LeFanu might have suggested me for the job.

I’ve taught writing classes in the past, have read a number of “how to write” books myself, and thought I could probably manage to write something which at least some people might find helpful. I wouldn’t make any great claims for it. I think different people will take away different things from it, because everyone is different, and what will strike one person as too obvious to need saying will strike someone else as the most amazingly useful advice they’ve ever had. I tried to include everything I would at one time have found helpful to hear, and to answer the sorts of questions which people have put to me at various writing classes and workshops over the years. It’s quite an autobiographical book, because that’s the only way I can write about “how to write”—entirely from my own experience.

M.M. Hall: You’ve also been an entertainment journalist. Have you ever considered screenwriting–adapting one of your novels into that format?

Lisa Tuttle: I’m not attracted to screen-writing as a form, but I have considered it. In collaboration with a young British director I did write a treatment for The Pillow Friend (which is significantly different in several ways from the book)—the producer she first showed it to declared it “the best-written treatment” he’d ever seen! However, this was more than two years ago, and there’s still no sign of anyone coming up with the money to actually make the film.

More recently, I had an idea which I thought might make a good film—for some reason, the idea came to me as a film rather than a book or a story—and so I read a couple of books about screen-play writing, and then sat down to write a treatment. In the course of which I discovered that although I had an idea I had only about half of a plot… so I put it aside to think about… and have been too busy with other things to get back to it. Maybe some day, but other projects are more pressing. If I could get someone to commission me on the basis of an idea or a treatment, I’d certainly turn my hand to screen-writing. As for writing them on spec, or trying to re-create books I’ve already written as screenplays… unless I had a very strong incentive to do so, I’d much rather get on with writing new books.

M.M. Hall: Of your novels, do you have a favorite? The Pillow Friend and Lost Futures are tied for first place, as far as I’m concerned. The Pillow Friend was almost autobiographical in a bizarre way. Was that intentional?

Lisa Tuttle: The Pillow Friend is still my favourite. Yes, a lot of my life is in there (of course the autobiographical element was deliberate! how could it be otherwise?) but so much of it is completely made up that it would be unwise to assume anything in it was taken directly from my own experience. (My own fantasies, maybe!) The geographical curve of the novel—from Texas to London to Scotland—recreates that of my own life, and some of the places are absolutely real, but everyone in the book, including the main character, is totally fictional.

M.M. Hall: You’ve been a journalist/non-fiction author, editor, fiction author, mother, wife, feminist and God/Goddess knows what else. What defines you? Who are you, Lisa (and do you have a middle name?) Tuttle?

Lisa Tuttle: Uh, you left out “relief assistant librarian” (that’s my current job title). When did I get elected God/Goddess? I wish they’d tell you these things! (oops, I just realized I mis-read that last question—you were calling upon the Deity, not adding to my job description!) My middle name is Gracia (named after my father’s mother and his older sister). What defines me? What a question! I’m speechless.

M.M. Hall: No sidestepping allowed. Take a breath and be creative. Call upon your talent and describe yourself.

Lisa Tuttle: No, really, Melissa, what do you want, a psychological profile, or a spiritual autobiography? People generally “define” themselves in context, e.g. “Hi, I’m Emily’s mother” or in terms of how they make their living, or whatever, and this kind of “definition” is acknowledged to be a short-hand used for a specific purpose, as a jumping-off point for getting to know each other. Like the list of biographical and bibliographical facts at the beginning of this interview. Won’t that do? For more insight into who I am, people should read the books.

M.M. Hall: Very true. But I guess I was searching for a spontaneous glimpse into the essence of Lisa? What you’re saying, I think–is that the essence of Lisa can be found your work?

Lisa Tuttle: Well, as an alternative to spending years getting to know me personally, yes! Writing may be just one side of me, but it is very important. It certainly expresses things which wouldn’t otherwise see the light of day. Although—kind of like being able to tap into someone else’s dreams—it’s not something I’d want to force on anyone.

M.M. Hall: What’s next?

Lisa Tuttle: I’m working on a novel called The Mysteries. Actually, I am hoping to have it finished and sent off to my agent before the end of October. After that, there’s a children’s fantasy (working title: The Fith-Fath Island) and lots and lots of other ideas; I need to decide which to write first. Also, there’s the ever-pressing problem of money, so I may have to scout around for some sort of commissioned work, depending on how long it takes to sell The Mysteries (assuming that it sells at all).

M.M. Hall: It’s intriguing how the title reflects your early obssession. Maybe you should misspell the title? Like, call it “The Misteraees?”

Lisa Tuttle: Maybe someday I should write a children’s book with a mysteriously misspelt title.

M.M. Hall: Gracia… what a cool middle name! I wonder what your writing would be like if published under Gracia Tuttle?

Lisa Gracia Tuttle: I’m a subscriber to the “a rose by any other name” theory, and doubt that if I’d started writing as “Gracia Tuttle” it would have caused my stories to be perceived any differently. Of course, if I changed now people would doubtless find huge significance in it. I think “Gracia Murray” could write contemporary women’s fiction, possibly with a Scottish setting… Dept. of Coincidence: In The Affirmation by Christopher Priest there is a significant female character named Gracia. Chris began writing this novel soon after meeting me (more than a year before I moved to England) but he had no idea of my middle name (which I very rarely use) and thought he had “made up” the name. Weird?

M.M. Hall: Well, as some sage once said, there are no coincidences… I might add, but there are always wonderful little miracles and little magicks… such as your work. Gracias… Lisa Gracia…

Background notes

I first met Lisa Tuttle in 1978 at the Fourth World Fantasy Convention held in Fort Worth, Texas. That small convention remains one of the most amazing incidents in my life. As the very young assistant manager of an independently run bookstore (Barber’s Bookstore now sadly, out of business after many years), we were running a promotion for Ace Books and Barber’s owner, Brian Perkins sent me down to the convention to see if I could snag some writers to visit the store (only blocks away). I got in line behind Judy Lynn and Lester Del Rey, Stephen R. Donaldson and Harlan Ellison to register. Before long, perhaps not surprisingly, weird things began happening. I kept meeting authors I’d read and wondered about. At one point I found myself sitting next to Stephen King and Lisa Tuttle, listening to Harlan Ellison perform. I met Charles Grant who would eventually buy several of my short stories for his Shadows series. I got reacquainted with a college buddy, Howard Waldrop. I met a Southern gothic photographer Clarence Laughlin noted for his works centered on the ghostly antebellum mystique… but the friendship that began there with Lisa Tuttle continues to give me encouragement to take my own writing more seriously and to appreciate the joys of self-expression and self-exploration.

“Finish it,” Lisa would repeatedly tell me, when I was blocked on a novel or project. She’s bought stories from me for her anthologies. She’s listened and confided in me. We’ve shared and continue to share our lives, even at enormous distances. Her work continues to take chances. Her fiction never takes the easy way out. She challenges herself and her readers to embrace the mysteries of everyday life.

—M.M. Hall

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M.M. Hall’s career began in the ’80s with Twilight Zone magazine, edited by T.E.D. Klein who called her Fort Worth’s answer to Shirley Jackson. Since that time, the unrepentant Texan has been trying to live up to that scary comparison by publishing in numerous anthologies (Gahan Wilson’s Ultimate Haunted House, Ellen Datlow’s Whisper of Blood, Lisa Tuttle’s Skin of the Soul and Crossing the Border), including a contribution to the book she also developed and edited, Wild Women, which was subsequently reprinted, along with another WW contribution by Carole Nelson Douglas, in the Year’s 25 Finest Crime and Mystery Stories (1998), edited by Ed Gorman and Martin Greenberg. She has also collaborated with Douglas E. Winter. Datlow and Windling have cited her work in Honorable Mention lists in their Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. When not reviewing books for various markets, or interviewing writers for Publisher’s Weekly, Hall works on various writing, editing and art projects. Most recently her work has been in the August ‘02 issue of Realms of Fantasy, the first issue (July ‘02) of New American Review (Authorlink Press) and featured on the Gothic.net website. You can check out The Hall of Mia for more information and Hall’s interview with Kevin J. Anderson in Publishers Weekly.