BH: As I said in the previous question, there’s a LOT of real-world experiences that constitute research. My earliest memories are of living in the desert, and I’ve always wanted to write in a desert setting. The Yellow City and the Realm of the Seven Lakes are an amalgam of civilizations—mostly Aztec and Egyptian, though there’s a certain amount of Japanese in there as well—and of research about the desert. Again, what’s it like to live there? What’s it like to live that way? What are the non-negotiable facts of life about living in a desert in a pre-industrial civilization?
SRM: I think the reader comes away from Sisters of the Raven with clear answers to most of those questions, but your characters never give the “As you know, we live in a world where…” kinds of speeches that are so depressingly prevalent even in the best genre fiction. You have a gift for insinuating background information without resorting to awkward exposition, which is equally crucial in fantasy and in historical fiction but probably more difficult in the former insofar as the reader has a more nebulous frame of reference. How do you achieve that?
BH: How do I avoid the Dreaded Expository Lump? Practice, practice, practice. Rewrite, rewrite, rewrite. I’ve been doing this a LONG time. Show, don’t tell; and, listen to how people actually talk.
SRM: I’m wary of generalities, but it seems to me that mystery is a component of most of your novels irrespective of genre. I’ve observed that many of them work more in terms of character motivation and interpersonal dynamics than in terms of the traditional model—what Poe called a tale of ratiocination—in which the brilliant detective solves a purely intellectual puzzle, a case so detached from its surroundings that it’s all but hermetically sealed. What is the appeal of mystery for you, and how do you structure a book’s mysteries?
