Mini-interview: TW Williams
Why write?
I have written fiction since I was a child, and probably for the reasons many do — even in my whitest-of-white-bread formative years, I am sure there were things I wanted to escape from, improve on. Now, I write because I can, and because I enjoy entertaining others. And my skin is sufficiently thick that valid critique is appreciated and unreasoning criticism is shrugged off.
If you didn’t write, what would you do?
I can’t imagine not writing. I fantasize about living in a cave lined with books where barbecued food arrives every day, but that likely wouldn’t happen if I stopped writing.
If you could hunt any speculative fiction creature ever imagined (except one of your own), would you? Which one? Why?
They’re all pretty dangerous and my courage is rather puny, but it would be interesting to converse with a wise dragon and earn its respect. Perhaps one of LeGuin’s Earthsea dragons.
If you could have any speculative fiction creature ever imagined (except one of your own) as a pet, would you? Which one? Why?
The Goose that Laid the Golden Egg. Then I could buy my cave full of books and catered barbecue.
You are on a holodeck: You’re sitting in an intergalactic bar, sipping your favorite beverage, waiting expectantly for someone to take a seat at your table. Which author from any era does?
Jonathan Swift.
Why?
His satire seems courageous, agelessly witty and penetrating, and I’d probably try to get some approbation from him for my writing and wit.
More importantly, which chair does he sit in?
Oh, he’d sit at the farthest seat from me, given the hygiene of his era. And besides, if I offended him, he’d have to crawl over Rudyard Kipling, Roald Dahl and Rafael Sabatini to get at me.
Why John Humble? What initiated his story and made you complete this particular tale?
John Humble was an easy choice for a protagonist, since he’s a study in contrasts — a philosophical mercenary whose pragmatism hides (albeit poorly) a chivalrous heart. Why this story? I’ve written almost a dozen Humble tales, and he generally is the biggest thing in the picture. Giving him something bigger, and then twisting it so that it wasn’t the bad guy but an ally was a lot of fun.
Do you write/read aloud to/with anyone (family member or friend)?
Yes. My wife is a generous soul who’s not only a fantasy fan, but someone who likes what I write. She’s willing to listen or read, but not shy about questioning my characters, their motives, or any plot point. Everyone should have one just like her, but I’m not sharing.
Quick: For each of the below, what’s your first thought in regards to the future of genre fiction:
Publishing: Dying, dead, on life support – or just going through a change? If it’s any of the first three, will it be euthanized or revitalized?
I vote for “going through a change.” If nothing else it’s the only positive one, and I’m not some sort of literature necrophiliac. Overall, the way we interact with printed text is evolving — newspapers, magazines, books, all are finding where they fit in an electronically delivered world. For many of us who make their living in other aspects of journalism/writing, it’s a painful time, but I’m optimistic that it will all sort out in the end. (Well, of course it will. I mean in a good way.)
Reading Formats: Print, electronic, audio, or interactive? Books: Hardcover, trade paperback, mass market, other?
All of the above formats.
Preference for reading/writing: Science Fiction, Historical Fiction, Fantasy Fiction, Horror Fiction?
I read all of those kinds of books and more, although my “horror” reading doesn’t get much past Dean Koontz. And I write in all those areas and more as well, although good ol’ sword-and-sorcery is probably still my “comfort food” of literature.
Thank you for answering up, Tom, and for being a part of Rage of the Behemoth!
“Where the Shadow Falls” by TW Williams closes out not only the ‘Ageless Mountains’ habitat but also the entire Rage of the Behemoth. Williams, who notes all of his projects at his website, lives in the tundra of northern Illinois, and he and his wife, Lynne, have (if you count the cat) a “Brady Bunch” family.
An opening excerpt
The Lictian huntsman cringed as the relentless tide of the griffin’s shadow rolled across the high plateau.
Her shrieking crescendo split the air, causing him to crouch lower behind the boulders he hid behind. She was on the hunt. He had sought her for weeks; now any place that wasn’t here was a better place to be.
Despite his dread, he didn’t flee. Any death she could visit on him would be violent but mercifully quick. The ones who had sent him would be neither merciful nor quick if he failed. And he would be just as dead.
A stone’s throw below him a giant bear rose on two legs to sniff the air. Twelve feet tall, the hunter judged, watching the silver tips of the umber fur bristle as the bear detected the griffin’s scent.
The Lictian licked his wind-chapped lips. He understood the ways of bears and knew that the grizzly, roused from hibernation, would be in a foul mood. He imagined the confusion and anger in the tiny ursine brain giving way to panic.
As if their minds were connected, the bear shook its head then dropped to all fours, tearing through the chokeberry and cliff rose at a speed belying its size.
The hunter prayed silently to his animal gods, caressing the matted wolf skin draped across his shoulders as he watched the massive bear flee. The thunder-shriek crashed again, swaying the fir trees, shaking snow from the slopes.
As the bear charged downhill, the griffin’s shadow stretched out to envelope it. The bear dodged into the sunlight, skidded, slammed against a boulder…
Watch for review praise for “Where the Shadow Falls” and Rage of the Behemoth!
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