the short review: Simon Strantzas

Interview with Simon Strantzas

The Short Review: How long did it take you to write all the stories in your collection?

Simon Strantzas: The book is a culmination of over six years of writing. It is a sister volume in many ways to my previous book, Beneath the Surface, as both were written over the same period. Whereas the previous encompassed the more ontological side of my fiction, this one focuses on the more psychological. I imagine, though, the two overlaps. But that doesn't speak much to the length of time it took to write the individual stories in the collection. That time varied considerably. Some took no time at all from concept to execution, others took months, and there is no correlation between the length of tale and length of gestation.

TSR: Did you have a collection in mind when you were writing them?

SS: Collecting my work was never at the forefront of my mind. Rather, my goal was to produce the most affecting fiction I was capable of writing and letting those works out into the world in any fashion I could. Indeed, at times I wondered if a collection would prove to be too concentrated -- too much of my weltanschauung in one spot -- for many to enjoy, and perhaps it might be best to leave the pieces scattered in the various journals and books they called home. Thankfully, I put that thought aside and the decision has proven to be the right one, I think. All that said, it would be a lie to pretend I didn't dream one day of seeing my dreadful darlings collected beneath a cover bearing my name.

TSR: How did you choose which stories to include and in what order?

SS: The stories in this book represent the best and most varied of my work. They also, I think, owe more to the psychological stream of supernatural fiction. Frankly, I see such a divide in my early work that it was somewhat easy to split the sister books. Then, all that needed to be done was arrange the tales I'd selected. That is as much of an art as writing, I sometimes think. First the book must start strong, then end strong, and somewhere in the middle tent-pole the volume. Between those landmarks, one need only pay attention to what came before and what follows, and, taking care to keep similar themes or settings or what have you apart, the order for the most part finds itself. Much as one might do when trapped in a particularly labyrinthine dream.

TSR: What does the word "story" mean to you?

SS: Stories for me are more than pieces of entertainment. Though my opinion on the division between "art" and "entertainment" in fiction has mellowed somewhat as I spend longer in the field and meet more authors, I must admit that I still find myself drawn more to strange fiction that seeks to illuminate than to entertain. I've read a few "how-to" books about writing, and often they repeat the same mantra: "Write your characters, let them find their plot, and the theme will reveal itself." Perhaps this method works for some, but for me, it's backwards. The beauty of the weird tale is that it allows for metaphor to dominate the narrative of a tale in a very real way, and this allows one to talk with greater clarity about issues that other fiction may not be able to tackle -- or, at the very least, tackle as completely.

TSR: Do you have a "reader" in mind when you write stories?

SS: I endeavour to write the sorts of stories I'd most enjoy reading. Beyond that, I write about those concepts I think might be most interesting to explore while writing. What the reader might want does not enter the equation at all. I trust readers will come to me on their own if I treat the work seriously and put thought and energy into crafting something worth the time to read. So far, I believe this method is working.

TSR: Is there anything you'd like to ask someone who has read your collection, anything at all?

SS: Sometimes I wonder if I'm perhaps a bit to obscure with my work, and at other times wonder if I'm not obscure enough. But I try to cast those ideas from my mind and instead concentrate on the job at hand. I don't want to end up like "Little Chandler", always dreaming of writing but never stepping up to the plate to do so. Really, the only thing I want to know from a reader is whether he or she enjoyed the book and why.

TSR: How does it feel knowing that people are buying your book?

SS: I must admit: I enjoy the sensation. Readers whom I've never met or spoken with before are the most exciting to hear from, especially when they provide affirmation that the work has merit. Friends and family cannot be trusted to be as bold or as candid. I wonder sometimes if those best-selling authors become jaded to the feeling, but for me, merely seeing my book in the hands of another brings me pleasure. I like imagining their pure souls are about to be fouled.

TSR: What are you working on now?

SS: Currently, I am in the midst of writing a third short collection of tales, much in a similar vein as Cold to the Touch. I hope to have that done by year's end, at which point my twice-delayed novel will be at the forefront of my attention. I've never attempted fiction at that length before, so it should prove an interesting -- or perhaps frightening -- experiment.

TSR: What are the three most recent short story collections you've read?

SS: I start many collections only to put them aside so I might later dip into them occasionally, so it feels as though this question won't elicit a fair response. Thus, instead I will mention the last three I've finished reading: Joel Lane's The Terrible Changes, Reggie Oliver's Madder Mysteries and John Llewellyn Probert's Coffin Nails. All, I might add, worth the time devoted. I firmly believe we are in a "weird fiction" renaissance, and the quality of these works only further proves my point. I only hope my book lives up to their standard.