Lorina’s Comments (group member since Aug 30, 2009)

Lorina’s comments from the Q&A with Lorina Stephens group.

Another blog entry I thought I'd share.

The Power of Names

Discussion among some of my colleagues arose a little while ago regarding naming practices in fiction. I must admit I was a little appalled at some of their responses. One writer chose to take an ordinary name and spell it backward to give it a funky, other-world sound, thus David would become Divad, or Susan become Nasus.

Another writer chose to give places people names, and people place names, so that David became a country, and Arnprior became the man who lived there, and Susan would be the village where Arnprior meets Peterborough.

Confused yet? I was. All I could think was: what happened to the Rule of 30? Of keeping your reader engaged, interested, in preventing at every mark of 30 -- 30 words, 30 lines, 30 seconds, 30 minutes -- your reader closing the book, permanently. By stepping too far out of the known you, as a writer, risk losing your reader to any of a myriad of other distractions.

Even more, I wondered what happened to the concept of the power of names, of a name fitting a place or character, of speaking to the fundamental, instinctive part of our natures?

Words, and names, are filled with nuances, subtleties. For instance take the word horse. Now, you could have a horse, but you could also have a pony, or a stallion, a mare or a foal, a gelding, a plug, a dray, a roan, a bay. You could have a charger, a thoroughbred, a palomino, an Arabian. And with the use of each of these words you create an entire mood, an expectation on the part of the reader. Certainly you wouldn't have a plug under a knight, and if you did you'd have someone called Don Quixote, another whole flavour of knight.

Aware of these nuances, when I come to name the characters in my novels, I choose names carefully, even researching the meaning of the name. Perhaps that's as silly as spelling a name backward, but I'll lay you odds not.

For instance, in the novel From Mountains of Ice, which is to be released September 1, one of my characters is Maponos O Leannain. The given name is from Celtic origin and means Divine Son, or god of youth and music. Given this character has a reputation as a singer, it was fitting. The surname means little cloak, which figures prominently in the clothing worn by the cucullati in the novel. Equally, one of the prominent female characters in the novel is Aletta, who is a strega (Italian for witch), but in this culture strega means a truthsayer. Aletta, a name that harks back to ancient Greece and Rome, means truth.

It is perhaps unnecessary to go to the lengths I do in order to name characters, but I do think a little more attention should be given to the nuances and connotations of names. If you're going to spend time choosing just the right word in your writing, then shouldn't equal consideration be given to names? I think so.

I thought I'd repost a blog entry I made in October 2008. Some of you may find it of interest.

The Process
It's what I call the act of writing -- The Process.

For me writing is almost ritualistic, definitely fraught with fidgeting and distractions, just as I'm doing right now by blogging about The Process. Writing is a necessarily solitary, will-sapping endeavour that if I'm lucky renders an article, a short story, if I'm really determined, a novel.

Music is part of that process. All kinds of music, depending on what it is I'm writing, which, for these next months is my latest novel, From Mountains of Ice. The music helps set the tone for me, lure me into the discipline required to sit still and allow my thoughts to enlarge to the point I can encompass a world, a people, a story worth telling.

The music for this novel (which was From Mountains of Ice ranges from the Benedictine Monks of Santo Dominigo singing Gregorian Chants, and the Russian Easter service to the score from Pan's Labyrinth and Gladiator, then to Johnny Whitehorse's Totemic Flute Chants, Dead Can Dance and Delirium.

Even with music, however, it's easy to find every excuse to avoid writing. I twitch. I ride my recumbent bike when the twitching becomes unbearable. I check email. Check Facebook. Check Chapters Community. I scritch the cats, look out the loft windows where now the trees are stripped to dark limbs and flies smash against the glass like kamikaze pilots, eventually gluing themselves in a gas of death. I pivot in the large, blue chair and look out to the east, down the length of the loft where pink insulation bulges against the confines of plastic vapour barrier, waiting for next year when the roof will be clad in steel, and then wallboard to be applied inside. I study the enormous purlins of what I think is butternut and devise interior designs in my head that will allow those purlins to remain exposed once the loft is renovated.

I chide myself and turn back to the computer screen, re-read what I've written in the past hour, hesitate to continue with the scene, brutalize myself into tapping out the next sequence until the thoughts run dry again, usually at a transition, and once again the whole process turns again.

Word of mouth is always good. Other things that can help are:

1. Ask, beg, harass your local bookstores (whether a chain or indie) to carry my books. If they have an account with Ingram, (which most booksellers do in one form or another)they can order directly through Ingram. Failing that Five Rivers does direct distribution.

2. If you have a blog or subscribe to reading lists or groups make recommendations with links to either online chain booksellers or directly to Five Rivers (http://www.5rivers.org).

3. If you are part of a writers or reading group, consider discussing or recommending my books. I'm also available for lectures and workshops, although there may, of necessity, have to be travel costs involved. We can also arrange an online meeting through SKYPE or Messenger or any number of other services.

4. If you read my books write your reviews of them on book groups such as this, as well as post them to online booksellers such as Amazon (a really huge advantage to authors and publishers), Chapters and others around the world. Just because I'm Canadian doesn't mean my books are only available in Canada. All Five Rivers' books are available worldwide.

Funny thing that. To be honest we've had nothing but steady increase in sales of Five Rivers' books, my own titles included.

I watch the trends pretty closely, and strangely enough book sales through booksellers and indie publishers have increased during this recession, so Five Rivers' experience is pretty much in keeping with what's going on in the larger market. The fact that legacy houses are screaming apocalypse is something quite outside this current recession, I believe. It's my theory, mooted by others with far greater knowledge than I, that the legacy houses are experiencing a meltdown because they have committed to a publishing model that would eventually feed upon itself and fail, whereas indie presses are holding their own or burgeoning because they've paid attention to better economic models, greater selection of titles and aggressive alternate forms of marketing.

I see nothing but steady growth ahead for Five Rivers, to be honest.

You have no idea what a deeply traumatic question that is. In fact, it's one I had to face during the recession of the Nasty Nineties.

Our family was hit very hard during that recession, to the point I couldn't afford paper and postage for submissions when faced with the pressing need to keep hearth and home secure and safe for our family. So for 10 long years I put aside writing, all but gave up. I'd had modest success as a writer, more as a journalist. I'd sold a few short stories, had two non-fiction books in publication, but couldn't seem to break into the fiction market. I was constantly being told my work and writing was good, but not speculative enough, or not quite suited to a specific market.

It was a decade of terrible identity crisis.

When we were finally able to crawl out of the financial devastation of that recession, I turned again to my second love -- painting, but found my heart really wasn't in it. What sold were pretty pictures of flowers, which I utterly loathed painting.

I delved deeper into historical textiles and mastered the art of the drizzler (an embroiderer who works with real gold thread), working on a reproduction 18th century embroidery frame (huge!) and created several magnus opi. I taught. I lectured. I learned how to do textile restorations. But, again, this just didn't do it for me.

And then a colleague of mine (Paul Lima) encouraged me to explore self-publishing and the quiet revolution that was occurring in print on demand technologies. And because of distribution streams open to the average person, I was able to once again take up the pen (figuratively) and pursue my first, best destiny.

What would I do if I couldn't write? Die a slow, withering death of the spirit. Writing is who and what I am. It's my raison d'etre.

I do what all the writing books say not to do: I rewrite and polish as I go, because if I don't it drives me crazy to the point I can't submerge into the story and let it flow when I'm working on first draft.

That said, I do make it a rule not to continually go back over what I've written, otherwise I'll never finish the novel. There does come a point when you have to discipline yourself. Sometimes if I remember something that needs addressing, I'll jot it down in the notes I keep to hand as I'm working, but will continue to plough through that first draft.

I do revise afterward, yes. How many times? Depends on the work, how satisfied I am, how tight I feel the whole fabric is.

Shadow Song underwent many revisions, mostly to add historical and environmental detail, although I did alter those early chapters considerably, adding scenes to develop Danielle's relationship with her family so that when she looses them the impact would resonate stronger. I also wove in far more reality than I had, because the original draft was just a bit too twee and sanitized. It's a gritty story, set in a gritty era, and that needed to be reflected.

From Mountains of Ice underwent a few revisions, mostly to flesh out the entire culture of the cucullati, and to address a few plot problems with the climax. Sometimes it's hard to see the entire picture when you're in the middle of it and you need to step back.

Trust me my first novel remains a very sad, ugly, troll of a creation. The story is good. The words are all wrong.

I think the light went on for me when I started submitting short stories to Marion Zimmer Bradley's fantasy magazine and empire. At first I received standard form rejections. Then she'd pen a small suggestion. The last rejection I received from her was a very long, hand-written critique which ended by saying, "Stop trying to impress me, Lorina." And she went on to say that I could write; I just needed to do it from the heart. I sold her my next story, Smile of the Goddess.

I also studied a lot of writing, and read articles in Writer's Digest, articles I went on to use in later in life when teaching creative writing through the local continuing education program. Orson Scott Card's book on character and viewpoint is an excellent book for anyone starting out.

Mostly, I'd have to say, examine the authors you enjoy reading. Start asking yourself why a particular story or passage resonates with you. Is it emotional? If so, how did the author set about writing something that would touch that personal experience of yours? Is it the words themselves? If so, examine how the writer crafted the passage. Is it the environment? If so, examine how the writer made real that environment.

Workshops, well, I think it takes a certain character-type to find workshops of use, whether online or a retreat. I've been part of several and mostly found them a dismal, frustrating experience. But that's because I'm probably just a wee bit too anti-social.

I formed a critique circle back in the 80s in the area I lived. Mostly writers would make tremendously useful comments like, "Oh, that's such a wonderful story," and of course I'd wade in, pen slashing, saying, no, this word, this phrase is redundant. This is clumsy. I think you could have used less exposition here and more action (show don't tell). Too many passive verbs. Too many adjectives; try choosing one, precise word over several. I think you've started your story at the wrong point, and all this back-story you've presented up front could have been filtered in through dialogue.

Needless to say people didn't like me much. Mind you, out of that group came Barbara Kyle who now teaches writing at University of Toronto, and continues to write historical novels.

For a brief (one week) period I was part of an SF&F group out of Toronto, loosely affiliated with Rob Sawyer. But I met with such resentment and foolish comment with regard to my application story that I didn't bother to return, which was met with more resentment.

And I did do three of the six week alleged boot camp of SF&F, Clarion, which then ran a workshop at Michigan State University in East Lansing. By the end of the third week I'd had enough of adolescent frat-house commentary and writing that I packed my bags and left. And, yep, once again met with resentment and anger.

Do you see a pattern here?

So I pretty much decided to go it on my own, write my stories in a closet and shove them out under the door in the hope someone on the other side might find them compelling enough to actually read, dare I hope, even enjoy.

Were all those workshops a waste of time? I used to think so, but in retrospect I think not. It helped me to realize I don't write stories that are hugely commercial and likely won't find a broad audience. It also taught me that my stories tend to evoke strong emotion, and when I started examining the critiques I'd received there was little by way of common thread. Mostly it was nit-picking. But I did read carefully for those common threads, realized the story had a flaw, and I revised carefully to correct that flaw.

From that, and from some very excellent teachers I had as a kid (who very much believed in cultivating inquiring minds), I learned to remove myself from my work and examine with a critical eye.

Are workshops and books on writing useful or a waste of time? I think it depends on the person. For one person they're going to be a tremendous boon. For another, like me, a complete waste of time. Just as in life, I don't think there's any one hard and fast rule.

I'm chuffed you find the detail in my books appealing. For myself, when I'm reading a novel, I love it when an author seamlessly integrates that sort of information into dialogue, action, plot.

The amount of time I invest into research for a book depends on the book, to be honest, so there's no formulaic answer. I suppose I'd have to say: as much research as it takes.

Shadow Song involved years of research, and pre-dated the ability to easily access information via the Internet. I purchased scores of books from a fellow I happened to chance upon who had North America's largest library of First Nations literature. I read voraciously. Took pages and pages and pages of notes. In the afterword of the novel I touch upon that research, for anyone who is interested.

From Mountains of Ice required less specific research, simply becuase I had already done the research in one form or another. There's a benefit to conducting a lifelong quest for knowledge, whether academic or historical makes little difference. It's all fascinating stuff. There's just simply so much to know.

As to being an expert in cooperage, to some extent, yes, Gary is, in that his avocation is that of an historical cooper. He produces some of the best historical cooperage in North America, and has taught himself the skill by reading what few texts there are on the subject, and by pursing a standard of excellence that's pretty hard to follow.

He has also pursued the art of the bowmaker, certainly not to the extent of the stunning Mongolian laminated C bows. His love has always followed his own heritage of a Gloucester-man and his Welsh ancestry, so he crafted several English longbows, one which is 110 pounds, which would be right in keeping with what an English longbowman would have pulled.

And just because he wanted to, he's also made all his own arrows, right from log and goose-wings, although he had a skilled friend and blacksmith forge the bodkin points. Oh, and in the novel when I speak of glue being an assault on the olfactory sense -- that's right from experience, when Gary took one of saucepans and sacrificed it to the making of hide-glue. Dear blessed saints what a stink!

And yes you're correct that Gary and I used to hire out as professional demonstrators for museums and living history sites -- he as the cooper, me as the embroiderer/seamstress. Was a lot of fun.

So the fact I can write about these things with a degree of authority simply speaks to a life filled with quirky, pleasant past-times.

TV is mostly a bore for me, to be honest. I find the majority of the shows predictable and not worth the weekly investment in time.

Having said that both Gary and I love watching Time Team. It's a BBC production, for anyone who isn't familiar with the program, and features a team of British archeologists who have three days to investigate a site. Some truly fascinating stuff there.

And for pure entertainment I have to admit to being addicted to So You Think You Can Dance, particularly the Canadian broadcast which features some simply stunning talent both in dancers and choreograhers. Also like the fact there are no politics on the show, no back-biting the way so many competetive shows make their ratings. This is done purely based on artistic merit. And wow do we have some artistic merit in this country.

There were some shows I really used to enjoy and catch whenever I find reruns:
Absolutely Fabulous
Red Dwarf
MASH
Monty Python's Flying Circus

Movies, yes, love watching movies. But there again I'm somewhat picky. Our children detested from an early age watching anything historical with us because we'd snipe at inaccuracies in costume or facts.

Films I'd watch again and again:
Absoulute top of the list is Out of Africa. I think I've seen this film at least a dozen times and I still weep, am still enthralled. I love the character portrayals, the struggle, the fabulous cinematography, score -- all of it.
Thereafter, depending on mood:
Persuasion -- with Ciaran Hinds
Lord of the Rings
Pan's Labyrinth -- stunning, absolutely fabulous film -- screenplay, score, acting, cinematograhy, all of it. If you haven't seen it you should.
Master and Commander -- Gary made the cooperage for this film
Bladerunner
Pride and Prejudice -- with Kiera Knightly
Pursuit of Happyness
A Beautiful Mind
Six Degrees of Separation
Water
Big Kahuna
Sophie's Choice
Last of the Mohicans
Rob Roy
Black Robe
Apocalypto
2001

Mostly, I suppose, I'm a reader. I probably read 30-40 books a year, not including what I read for research or training. Very often of an evening, if Gary needs to blow his brains out exploding tanks in an MMPORPG (Battlefield Europe), I'll retire early for the day and read and let the book fall on my face. Gary often has taken the book from my hand, tucked me in and turned out the light.

Who influences my writing: Margaret Atwood, Guy Gavriel Kay, Thomas Hardy. The first because of her incisive writing. Nothing's wasted. Every word has import and is fitted to the next like Inca masonry.

The second because of his lush writing and worlds, his usually excellent characterization.

The third because of his genius with mood and character development through environment. Way ahead of his time.

Obviously I read those three. For pure escapism I read Pauline Gedge's historical novels, as well as Bernard Cornwell and Alexander Keith. I do like Dorothy Dunnett, and some of Orson Scott Card's work, but not so much his newer work. I think he's lost something essential that was very apparent in Songmaster and Ender's Game.

I'd have to say I read a broad spectrum of work, both fiction and non-fiction, literary to pure pulp. Depends on my mood, what I'm reading for and why. Right now I'm ready C. June Wolf's anthology 'Finding Creatures & Other Stories' and very much finding a kindred spirit.

I was very conscious of writing a Canadian novel, partly because I think Canada's culture has very much affected my personal paradigm, and partly because I wanted to create a novel that is a metaphor for the Canadian/American relationship.

Interesting that. I could never figure out why Hamlet's hesitation was a fatal flaw. People have tried to explain it to me over and over again; I nod. I smile. But in the end I shrug my shoulders.

In a way I think Shakespeare wanted to illustrate that no matter what Hamlet did he'd be doomed, that fate is inexorable. Wasn't, and still isn't, a particularly popular or accepted view of the Bard's work.

And I'm ever so chuffed you've compared my novel with Hamlet. Good heavens!

That I painted Sylvio as a cautious man was a conscious decision, an attempt to illustrate a personal belief that rash decisions and people of 'action' aren't always the best choice. That sometimes, despite urgency, we need to sit back and consider things, weigh options, develop a plan that will benefit the greater good and cause the least damage.

Those kinds of people, and those kinds of decisions, aren't wildly popular among humans. We always want the quick fix. And quick fixes are what cause wars, terrorist attacks, all manner of ill-considered and devastating results right from our emergence from the caves.

It's always interesting, however, that the people who have the courage to follow a careful, considered plan are the ones who end up canonized in some form or other. Just look at Ghandi. An entire nation wanted violence. He kept saying no, there's a better way. And when they broke into petty squabbling and caused bloodshed he'd go on a hunger-strike, in fact telling them, smarten up or you loose me as well. That takes guts, and an unfaltering belief not only in the virtue of humankind but the justice of a passive protest to an injustice.

I've had some people say Sylvio is an anti-hero, somewhat despicable because of his hesitation, even compared him to Thomas Covenant of Stephen R. Donaldson's series, and because of that have dismissed Sylvio and the entire novel. But, again, I believe those readers want the action hero figure who goes in with swords flashing, blasters blazing, slaughters the evil villain and stands in a brilliant spotlight.

My take? How boring. How unrealistic. And how sad because look at all those innocents who have been slaughtered along the way. Because it doesn't matter how the writer writes that scene, how antisceptic and allegedly 'surgical' that strike has been, experience tells you that 'surgical' strikes usually result in 'collatoral damage'. In real-speak that means the gung-ho general bungled the operation, hit a school, and 500 children died.

So, yeah, I don't write easy characters or easy stories. Yeah, not everyone will like my work, and it's going to take a reader who is willing to be challenged, who is willing to have their heart and mind engaged, sometimes tissues to hand, to read my work. But, I hope, they will come away feeling they've been sated and will remember that story for a very long time.

Or X-men.

The title significance? Because the mountains of ice transform Sylvio in so many ways, not just physically, but psychologically. In a way I sort of thought of his sojourn in the mountains as his 40 days and 40 nights in the Sinai. And so from the mountains of ice comes this new man, this unwilling saviour.

Patrick Stewart -- that's who should play Julio. Perfect fit.

Oh, I think I know the passage to which you refer. I've quoted it here:

He set down his water and turned his back to the room, unsure of what he was about to do, unsure of this whole series of events. Lost, he slipped out to the atrium where the sounds of the fountain and birds drifted by, out to the courtyard and the dust and noise and heat of a stunning autumn day where the servants and escort of the Breenai mingled with the staff from both Danuto and Portelli’s household, and from there into the gloom of the warehouses where his arcossi were stored.

Here there were no people. Here all was quiet, but for the faint whisper of sound only he could hear.

Hush, he thought to himself. Be still. And ran the palm of his hand across the lid of the top box of arcossi.

How could he put such a boon into the hands of a nation bent on subverting his people?

Gods, help me, he thought.

He heard whispers, dry and chittering, looked up sharply into the dust and gloom of the warehouse. Only the scuttle of a mouse. In the distance a horse whickered, followed by the firm but gentle command of an ostler. A burst of laughter then, plainly from the traders viewing Danuto’s horses. Whispers again beneath his hand, fading like a breeze lost in leaves. A swallow swooped along the vaulted ceiling, blade-like wings almost silent. Almost. Like the voices in the boxes beneath his hand.
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Descriptive passages like that come from my own sensiblities, how I fit in my environment. I find I'm often atuned to my surroundings, so that even now I hear the clatter of the keys, the chickens (budgies) chattering, Louis Armstrong growling out a song. There's a warm, woodsy smell up here in the loft where I work, likely from the old beams that stand darkly and exposed. So, for me, writing this way is simply a way of painting the world I see for my readers, guiding them in, giving them very elemental landmarks.

As to franchising, hhhmmm. As if I'd ever have enough of a following to garner fan fiction. That makes me smile. I like to paint with a large canvas, big brush and lots of colour, but I think even that is a bit beyond me. Because I'm an indie author, and an indie publisher, it's unlikely the world you describe is one in which I'll have an incarnation. But it's nice to dream.

Not only are the roles for older women vanishingly small, but North American society has a prejudice that older women are no longer attractive, and those who are attractive often remain so because of invasive procedures. Very sad.

I am, of course, very pleased you enjoyed my departure from the typical genre archetypes. Those archetypes drive me crazy, to be honest, which is one of the many reasons I wrote the short story, Dragonslayer. But I digress.

The way I see it readers, or at least this reader, look for characters with whom they can identify, so why create all these young, braun, beautiful people? A bit boring. Once you've read one of these novels you've read them all. And who could possibly have any empathy with these characters? I don't want my stories to be a light summer read (although certainly I want people to enjoy cuddling up with my books). What I want is for people to go away and months later remember a character or a scene and have that emotion and inner world sweep over them again. Perhaps a bit ambitious on my part, but I always figure if I'm going to do something, go all out.

I think one of the most interesting characters to come out of pulp, genre fiction is that of Raistlin from the Dragonlance series. Not beautiful. Not entirely evil. Redeeming traits. Very powerful wizard but racked by physical infirmity.

And of course so very pleased you enjoyed my wee Passerapina. She is one of those rare characters that pop into a writer's life every now and then, a gift from the ethos or the muse or whatever. She was meant only to be a fleeting figure, a child Sylvio meets to illustrate the devasting want of the common people. But she turned into more, very much more.

I must admit I wept when I wrote certain passages involving Passerapina. In a way I think she's a metaphor for innocence.

A sequel? Oh, you are an evil man, Robert Runte. I would resist, very much resist. I haven't ruled it out, but to be honest writing a sequel is about as appealing to me as a root canal.

Ooops, Russell Crowe, not Craig Russell! I'm always confusing the names, but certainly not the men!

Liam Neeson, yes too young for Aldo, but I wasn't sure Peter O-Toole would give a creepy enough presence. On second thought, he very much would. Or Derek Jacobi? He would be great as Aldo as well. Nope, Peter O'Toole. He has such presence, can command without uttering a word.

Judi Dench for Aletta? No, not quite. Close, but not quite. To be honest I haven't seen the actress yet that would suit. I sort of thought of Polly Walker, but she's too young and way too sensual.

John Rhys-Davies would just make the greatest Portelli, yes! That wonderful blend of rascal and staunch companion.

Oh, Julio, Violina's butler? Hhhmm, don't know. He has to be acquline, feline, gracious, witty, about 50ish and of course interestingly bald. There was a fellow who played a small role in the HBO series Rome, a servant to the senator played by Derek Jacobi. Cannot remember his name. On the other hand, someone older, like David Thewlis, although not matching my description at all, would give a very credible performance.

And now that I'm thinking about it a bit more, Simon Woods would play a delicious Carmelo as well. There's something just a bit too beautiful about that face, and certainly he has presence. Of course, we'd have to dye his hair a dark chestnut brown.

Anyone else have suggestions?

Charlton Heston? Are you kidding me?
No, no, no. This is how I envisioned, sort of, my characters.
Sylvio: Ciaran Hinds or Craig Russell
Aletta: Ilaria Borrelli
Vincenze: Robert Downey Jr.
Portelli: John Rhys-Davies
Carmelo: Clive Owen
Aldo: Liam Neeson
Passerapina: would have to be an unknown, dark-haired sprite
Ó Leannáin: Ioan Gruffudd
Violina: Helen Mirrin

I'd have to say that very little in what I write is 'bonus backstory'. I think very carefully about how I'm going to develop character, justify every action so that it passes the 'oh yeah?' factor (as in suspension of disbelief.) The characters in my stories have to be credible, else, in my view, the story won't hang together. Plot and character, for me, are hinged one upon the other.

As to your primary question, indeed yes developing the relationship between Sylvio and Aletta was crucial to the central theme of honour. If Sylvio had been a jerk in his relationship with Aletta, then what credibility would he have when chasing after lost honour? However, if it becomes apparent that home and hearth and the love of his life are his raison d'etre, then by example he becomes a man of integrity and therefore one of honour.

Exploring Sylvio through Aletta's point of view I also felt was necessary to the plot. Here is a woman with power of her own, a complement to Sylvio in so many regards. She's intelligent, capable, in no manner a trophy wife. In fact she doesn't need him. But she does, in an ineffable matter of the heart. He trusts her not because of her special abilities, but in spite of them, and that trust has become a circular thing because he is the one person upon whom she refuses to use her talents. And Aletta, being who she is, realizes that delicate balance she and Sylvio have maintained.

I think of that as sacred trust. It's rare to find in reality, I believe. But it can be fostered, made a harbour and strength in life. And here, once again, I try to bring my own paradigms, my own realities, into fiction.

Writers, at least this writer, always draw from life. Having said that, the characters in 'From Mountains of Ice' aren't specifically based on any real or historical characters, rather an amalgam of characters, and so therefore completely new. Although I do hope people will find the characters familiar to some degree, enough that empathy can be felt.