What drives your art? What forces you, rides you, hustles you, controls you until its latest needs have been met? What really drives you to create speculative fiction art, be it words or images?

Well, the clear answer to the second question is: my dog. But I suspect you’re looking for a different sort of response. One of the biggest challenges I have that nags at me when I write is to come up with Something Different. Particularly with short stories, writers have a tendency to fall into genre tropes – many of which cause characters to behave unrealistically even for speculative fiction characters. I mean, as a reader, one can only suspend so much disbelieve. Once a writer sets up a world or a situation, I expect the characters to behave realistically within in it. I’m constantly trying (with mixed success) to both come up with new situations and ask, “what would these characters really do?”

If there was the possibility of becoming any speculative fiction character ever created (except your own), would you? Who? Why?

I’ve never really thought about it. Unfortunately, most of the more interesting characters are interesting in part because they live in and go through very difficult – even tragic — times. I can’t imagine, for example, really wanting to be Elric of Melnibone or even Superman. All of these great characters have tragedy in their lives, or we wouldn’t be able to relate to them at all. So unless I could take elements from one character, combine them with elements of another, etc…. until I’ve created a hodgepodge hero.

If you could only take one author’s works compressed on an e-book reader on a “one-bag-only” one-way trip to another galaxy, whose works would it be and why?

I’ll come back to answer this question when I can find a loophole.

Why Dermanassian? What initiated his story and made you complete this particular tale?

Most of my stories start with a single image or line. In this case, it was the image of the Dawn Tree itself sitting on a lonely steppe. And since Dermanassian is a contemplative sort of fellow, it seemed natural that he would be hero in this kind of story.

In the privacy of your favorite writing nook, do you act out your protagonist’s actions? Do you know how to use his weapons? Do you wear his clothes? Do you talk like him?

I’ve never thought to do that. I suspect it would be distracting not only for me, but for anyone unfortunate enough to be around me.

Quick: List your first thought as your answers to these questions about the future of genre fiction:

Printing Methods: Offset or Print-on-Demand?

I suspect that POD publishing will continue to grow since it’s the only economical way that a small press or individual author can offer paper publications. But as electronic reading becomes more and more prevalent, most printing methods will suffer.

Reading Formats: Electronic or Print?

I’m old fashioned. I still prefer reading paper. However, I’m very curious about the new Kindle since it seems to be getting rave reviews. The electronic media seems to be catching up to print media in user experience, and has some advantages in terms of portability, flexibility, and space constraints. I keep wondering, however, whether folks will lose entire libraries when Kindle’s technology becomes obsolete or whether those libraries will be upgraded. I haven’t been quite curious enough (yet) to investigate this though.

Book Tours: Physical or Virtual?

I don’t tend to be influenced either as a reader by book tours.

Reading Habits: Dead, Dying, Alive, Growing?

Reading habits wax and wane, like so many other things.

Length: Flash, Short, Novella, 1970′s novel (60k), 1980′s novel (80k), 1990′s novel (120k), 2000′s novel (150k)

I prefer short to 120k works. Flash fiction is often too short to make an impact on me. On the other hand, mega-novels are often too daunting for me to even pick up. They just require so much time commitment that takes away from other reading. For example, I’m not sure I’ll ever read some of the 10+ book series with 150k per book. That’s months and months of commitment to, essentially, one giant work. I’d rather read 5 trilogies and 5 Pulitzer Prize winners in that same amount of time.

Robert E. Howard, Jack London, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allan Poe, Fritz Leiber, Karl Edward Wagner, Louis L’Amour, Frederick Faust, Ian Fleming, Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Rafael Sabatini . . . the list could go on. Some lived long lives, some flared and burned out young. All lived life hard. All wrote pulse-pounding action-adventure, often dipping into the many different genres they share, yet each eventually establishing their name within a specific one. What do you believe you have in common with these authors, and what makes you so sure speculative fiction – heroic fantasy fiction to be precise – is your genre? Or is it?

I don’t know that I feel comfortable saying I have anything in common with these authors other than they wrote in English and I try to do the same. Time and others will tell with heroic fiction is my genre or not. In the meantime, I will try to avoid dying young and tragically and with a rotted liver.

Thanks for the great interview, SC!

S.C. Bryce can be found at www.SCBryce.com

Review Praise for “The Dawn Tree”

“… [a] story about betrayal, but this time about a hero being tricked into betraying himself. This was an excellent story, and Bryce’s concept of the Dawn Tree ushering in the new epoch is creative.” ~ John Ottinger III

An excerpt

…When Dermanassian turned back to the Dawn Tree, a tiny figure stood beside it. Despite the night chill, she was clad in a sheer, multi-colored gown from which peeked bare legs. Her auburn hair hung loose to her waist and her skin was vaguely luminescent. She stretched in the moonlight with a deep sigh before swinging into the tree gracefully to inspect each long bud and hum in satisfaction. She unwrapped each corner, peeked inside, and then lovingly re-rolled the blooms – each fully as large as she was.

“Pae,” Dermanassian whispered, stepping into the moonlight.

Almost inaudibly, she gasped as her large green eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. In an instant, she vanished, leaving only the aroma of flowers.

Dermanassian crept to the Dawn Tree, almost placing his bronze hand upon its bark before remembering such an act might well be greeted with poisonous barbs.

“Lady Pae,” he whispered urgently. “I have been sent for you.”…

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