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Q: For those who have not read either one of your books, is it necessary to read A Telling of Stars first?
A: No, it's absolutely not. I've been thinking quite a bit about what to tell would-be readers about sequence—if there is one, or should be. The Silences of Home is a prequel and should perhaps be read first, but it's also true that reading it after A Telling of Stars might be intriguing (as Silences fleshes out things that are only alluded to in Telling). I guess the only thing I can really say for certain is that, while the books enhance and inform each other, they aren't dependent on one another.
Q: Did you know there was going to be a prequel when you wrote A Telling of Stars?
A: I had no idea. First of all, I never intended A Telling of Stars to be a novel, let alone a published one. I wrote it over the course of six years, for (mostly) intensely private reasons. One of the less private reasons was my desire to subvert some of the tropes of fantasy fiction, which sprouts sequels and trilogies, books five, six, seven, as does no other genre. Once I'd figured out that Telling would, indeed, be a book, I swore that I would never, ever fall into the multi-volume epic trap. But then Telling found a publisher, and shortly thereafter I found myself breaking my word. I kept returning to the world I'd created—specifically to the idea of exploring the "facts" behind the myth that drove Telling's protagonist. I amended my initial vow (in rigorously rationalizing fashion): There would never be a sequel to Telling, but there was no reason why there couldn't be a prequel. I intend to keep this amended vow.
Q: What inspired you to write The Silences of Home?
A: Jaele, the protagonist of A Telling of Stars, derives much of her determination and strength from the legend of Queen Galha—a legend that portrays the Queen as a powerful ruler whose actions are invariably just and glorious. When I started thinking about writing a prequel to Telling, I kept returning to Galha's story, which seemed more and more alluringly vague. What if the true story was far less flattering to the Queen? What if her victory in the Raiders' Land had been much more complicated than the legend indicated? The more "what ifs" came to me, the more intrigued I became with the idea of figuring out the history behind the myth, which is what I ended up doing.
Q: What can fans of A Telling of Stars expect to find in The Silences of Home?
A: Silences is more complicated, plot-wise. Telling was a very interior story, told from only one point-of-view, and in pretty dense prose. Silences is a considerably longer book that is paradoxically less wordy: there's more dialogue, more action, more characters, but fewer purely descriptive passages. I wondered about a third of the way through (when I hit my first strategically challenging part) whether I'd be up to this more complex plot; I'm still wondering this now, despite being satisfied with the way I developed and resolved things. I await reader reaction with great eagerness.
Having said that, there are more narrative layers in this book than my first. I have to add that it was the characters that led me, rather than plot or themes, and this is consistent with A Telling of Stars. And while the language in Silences is somewhat pared down, I think that fans of Telling will recognize my "voice."
Q: Was this second book more challenging to write?
A: What surprised me about the writing of Silences was how smoothly it went. It had taken me six years to write A Telling of Stars. Six years, during which I was working at a bookstore, had no mortgage, no kids, etc. After I'd signed the contract for Silences, I had a bit of an anxiety attack. The deadline date was the very next year. What if I couldn't do it? I'd never written on demand before. Telling had been finished for years before I tried to find a publisher. Silences was also a "big" book, in a way that Telling hadn't been—a more complicated plot, many main characters. Once I sat down and started writing, though, the anxiety evaporated. The book grew, from afternoon to afternoon, and I never faltered in any significant way. I hadn't expected this, and it was a delight.
Q: When did you start thinking about writing as a career?
A: The first time I remember thinking about the act of writing, and realizing my love for it, was in grade two. My teacher returned my story notebook to me (one of those thin Hilroy notebooks—this one was orange). I flipped eagerly to the last page of my assignment and found a comment that went something like: "Very good. But try not to make your stories so long." I hadn't even realized that it might be considered too long, and I felt quite indignant about it. If I have a story to tell, I thought to my seven-year-old self, it doesn't matter how many pages it is ... I wrote my first novel seven years later, when I was 14, my second at 15, my third at (yes) 16. Sometime in this three-year period I started answering "writer" to the inevitable "what do you want to be?" query.
Q: Why did you choose the fantasy genre?
A: Except for a brief foray into historical fiction, I've always written fantasy. Young adult fantasy by authors like Lloyd Alexander and Ursula LeGuin were the first books I truly loved. It was the wonder that hooked me: the landscapes, the magic, the characters who were like people I knew, but not exactly. I kept reading fantasy as I grew up, but most adult fantasy didn't resonate with me nearly as much as the young adult books had. Fantasy, though, remains the only thing I have any interest in writing. People have asked me whether I'll ever write contemporary fiction (some even phrase it as "real fiction"), and I always reply that I'm not sure. I still need the breadth of wonder and discovery that fantasy can offer.
Q: How do you manage to juggle your writing with your family life and your full-time job?
A: I don't have a 9 to 5 job now. But I did in 2001, while I was revising A Telling of Stars. In fact, whenever I think I'm overwhelmed now, I remember that time. I was working 40 hours a week at the Univerity of Toronto, taking care of my two-year-old when I got home, and writing for hours after her bedtime, all the while utterly green, in the first stages of a second pregnancy.
I quit my job after I got my second Penguin contract, and embarked on the new mothering/writing stage of my career with exhilaration and a fair bit of naïveté. I had 1.25 hours every afternoon in which to write (while my elder daughter was at school and my younger was napping). Although I managed, without much difficulty, to produce a book over the course of about nine months, I did have trouble balancing the mothering and writing in an emotional sense. I'd often be distracted with my kids, thinking ahead to what I'd write when my 1.25 hours came. I'd also be impatient with them, and then with myself. I'm hoping to remedy this the next time around!
Things will be changing again this fall, with one girl going into full-day school and the other starting day care. I think every school year will bring me a few more hours for writing, which is an exciting prospect. I'm glad, though, that I started with so little time; I know now how to ignore dirty dishes and phone calls and focus.
Q: Are you working on anything now?
A: I'm planning book three, yes. I'm finished exploring the world of A Telling of Stars and The Silences of Home. This will be a whole new setting. It's more than loosely based on ancient Greece circa 1500 BC, which is an era that's always fascinated me. It'll be a full-blown fantasy, though, not a historical one. It's both exhilarating and terrifying embarking on something completely different; I can't wait to start writing.
Read more about Caitlin Sweet's writing life as she champions Virginia Woolf's
A Room of One's Own as part of our Great Ideas feature.
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