- Tell us a little more about yourself. What's the 411 on Brent Weeks?
I’m the guy without a Plan B. I’ve always wanted to write fantasy, and I’m really bad at going to work all day and then writing all night. Some people can do it, and I foster a deep jealousy of them. I taught high school English for a year, and kids told me I was a great teacher, but I didn’t write a word all year. So I quit. The starving artist thing seems really romantic until you get hungry and your friends are graduating from Harvard Law. After four years, I was a moron who needed to get realistic, but my wife wasn’t ready for us to quit. After five years, I was a visionary with a book deal.
I wrote the book in a year, spent six months adapting it into a screenplay, rewrote for several months with what I’d learned from that cross-training exercise, went to a conference to pitch my ‘finished’ novel and met Don Maass. He asked one magical question that made me realize I needed to go back and change everything. I did, submitted it, and then started on the next book. Getting signed with Don took another nine months. I finished the next book and started on the last. We collected rejection letters for a while, then at the end, there was interest from all over—and Orbit threw down a preemptive bid for the trilogy with the plan for a rapid release.
Generally? Characters who actually grow through all three books. A much wider view of the world. And another fast read. More magic, more deaths, and at least one damn fine twist, if I do say so myself. Specifically, more of the Godking and Khalidor, more of Vi, more of the trio of Solon, Dorian, and Feir, but still a strong focus on Kylar.
I’ll be in Surrey, B.C. around October 22, but the publicity people are still working on that one. I’ll be doing a multi-author signing at the Beaverton, Oregon branch of Powells Books on November 20, and I hope to take a trip to San Francisco in January and do a few signings there. I may do others, but this is all new to me; I’m going to see how it goes—and see if anyone wants me in the first place!
I’m writing what I envision to be a stand-alone novel, and in this one, I actually do stand one fantasy trope on its head—which, as it turns out, causes some serious difficulties not only for the character, but for me, too! What comes next? Working every day to put words on the page, trying to become a better storyteller, and doing my best to give readers more than 8 bucks’ worth of story.
- What was the spark that generated the idea which drove you to write THE WAY OF SHADOWS and the rest of the series in the first place?
- The fact that there is a website dedicated to your work is an indication that interaction with your readers is important to you as an author. How special is it to have the chance to interact directly with your fans?
Writing is solitary, and though I’m able to act like a hermit to do what I love, I’m not a hermit at heart. So it’s tremendously important to me. At the same time, fans are fans because of what you write, not for your winning personality, so it’s important that I not spend all my time blogging or reading blogs—because if I do, I won’t write.
When I read, I do so with an eye for what the author does well. Getting published is so hard that if you do, you’ve got to be doing any number of things right. They might not be things that _I_ value highly, but they’re present nonetheless. That said, George R. R. Martin is astounding. When I read the second book of A Song of Ice and Fire, everyone was amazed that the second book was better than the first—and that became the standard I decided to hold myself to. I’m awed by Orson Card’s clarity and gift for dialogue. Pat Rothfuss writes beautifully. As a writer, you do lose a lot of the joy of reading the genre when you write in it, but on the other hand, when you read people who write really well, I think your joy is tripled.
I talked with Tim Holman, the head of Orbit, about this in depth, and he was very kind to involve me in cover concepts for my trilogy—which he didn’t have to do. His philosophy, and now mine, is to design a cover that lets the reader know in one glance what kind of book they’re looking at. You don’t like assassins? This isn’t the book for you. Of course, many seasoned fantasy readers love their old narrative covers, and may want to puzzle out the whole scene painted on the front, spine, and back of the book, so you lose points with them. And of course, part of me thinks, “But this series is about so much more than just an assassin!” But the cover’s purpose is merely to point the right people TO the book. Same goes for the back cover copy. Mine is very brief and focuses purely on the characters—because characterization is my great strength. I like to think I have other strengths, too, but if you try to convey that this book is great in every respect, you end up conveying nothing at all.
I’ll admit to a good, old-fashioned vanity Googling, especially now as my first-ever books are coming out. As Oscar Wilde said, “The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.” But if I spend my writing time trolling the web for what people are saying about me, I’m killing the reason people are talking about me at all. It’s a matter of balance.
- Honestly, do you believe that the speculative fiction genre will ever come to be recognized as veritable literature? Truth be told, in my opinion there has never been this many good books/series as we have right now, and yet there is still very little respect (not to say none) associated with the genre.
If you’ve never seen it, you should Google “geek hierarchy.” The truth is, everyone likes to look down on someone. If your favorites are all avant-garde writers who throw in Sanskrit and German, you can look down on everyone. If your favorites are all Oprah Book Club books, you can at least look down on mystery readers. Mystery readers have sci-fi readers. Sci-fi can look down on fantasy. And yes, fantasy readers have their own snobbishness. I’ll bet this, though: in a hundred years, people will be writing a lot more dissertations on Harry Potter than on John Updike. Look, Charles Dickens wrote popular fiction. Shakespeare wrote popular fiction—until he wrote his sonnets, desperate to show the literati of his day that he was real artist. Edgar Allan Poe tied himself in knots because no one realized he was a genius. The core of the problem is how we want to define “literature”. The Latin root simply means “letters”. Those letters are either delivered—they connect with an audience—or they don’t. For some, that audience is a few thousand college professors and some critics. For others, its twenty million women desperate for romance in their lives. Those connections happen because the books successfully communicate something real about the human experience. Sure, there are trashy books that do really well, but that’s because there are trashy facets of humanity. What people value in their books—and thus what they count as literature—really tells you more about them than it does about the book.
Yeah, sure. I keep waiting for an interviewer to ask what I think my weak points are. I mean, come on, you get that question with every job interview, so it’s only fair, right? So here goes. I suck at names. I just read a review where a guy said, “Man, he does the apostrophe thing in his names. I hate that.” I was like, No kidding! I hate that, too. I think I was finishing my last round of editing book three—book one was already at the printers—when I realized that. So I was stuck with Sa’kagĂ© for this round, and for any further books in Midcyru, but I promise not to do it again! Plus, I seem to like Z’s and K’s. I look at J.K. Rowling and her names are so good, it’s maddening. Of course, she’s writing fantasy set in our world, so she can do some Latinate-root things I can’t get away with, but still. Severus Snape? Ridiculously evocative. What else am I bad at? (The publicity people at Orbit are going to kill me for making this my own question.) Descriptive paragraphs bore me to tears. When I read, “The long-stemmed saw grasses whispered against each other in the blustery winds intermittently brushing the heath. The vermillion buds of the incipient canary-flowers scrunched beneath the hooves of the Dark Lord’s destrier…” my brain goes, “heath, Dark Lord, horse.” So I tend to write, “The Dark Lord rode onto the heath.”






