Interview with David Marusek

Sixty years ago, there were a half-dozen science fiction writers in the United States. Fifty years before that, there were only one or two such writers. Today the field of speculative fiction has become huge, yet there are still only a couple dozen people who make their full-time living at it. Most of the hundreds of others who write books, stories, scripts, and even science fiction poetry have "day jobs," that pay the bills and keep toner in the printer.

Tucked away in a small office on the UAF campus, David Marusek spends his afternoons working as a graphic artist. He also teaches a class in desk-top publishing. This gives him enough money to pay the mortgage on his cabin, the maintenance on his truck, and occasionally, the price of a trip Outside.

David has published short fiction in Playboy and in Asimov's. His novella, "We Were Out of Our Minds With Joy," was chosen to appear in Gardener Dozois' 13'th Annual Year's Best Science Fiction anthology, and has also been selected for the nomination ballot for the Nebula Award, one of the two most important awards in the field. David was also nominated for the 1996 Theodore Sturgeon short fiction writer's award.

I spoke to David shortly after his return from England, where he participated in the prestigious Milford Writer's Conference in Devon.

NL: David, why do you write?

Marusek: I write because I have to. There's no way I can't. It's the most difficult endeavor I can imagine; I can't imagine anything more difficult, but I gotta do it.

NL: What do you write?

Marusek: I write about people. I speculate on how things could be, and I write about how my characters respond to those influences.

NL: Are you a visionary? How closely do you think the subjects you write about predict the future?

Marusek: I don't really think about the future. Even though my novella is set in the world of 2092, it could happen right now, because it's about us.

NL: Are your characters real to you? Do you love them? Hate them? Bleed with them and cry with them?

Marusek: Oh yes. That's why I have to be alone in a room when I write. I talk, swear, cry... One can only create a character to a certain point. After that, the characters start creating themselves.

NL: Do you model your characters on real people?

Marusek: I think so, yes. At least the attributes that go into my characters are qualities that I've observed at some point. I think the thing about fiction is one feels the need to take the things that happen and mold them into a story, that's what it's all about.

NL: Do you write with ease, or do the words sometimes come hard?

Marusek: You have to realize, there's two sides of writing. There's the craft, which is the nuts and bolts, the way you string words together. Most of what I know about the craft of writing I learned in elementary school. All that sentence diagramming and other things you learn in sixth grade have served me well in my life. I can write impeccable sentences. I'm learning to write great paragraphs. Little by little I'm working up to the form of the novel. The other side of writing, however, is the content, and that's something one's whole life leads up to.

NL: How do your life experiences find their way into your stories?

Marusek: The way I look at it, if my life experiences were pages, they'd be one big heap on the floor as tall as I am. When I write, the pages of my life that I need somehow migrate to the top of the stack and I pick them up and I use them. That's what kind of memory I have. That's what I consider a writer's memory. It's pure clutter, but when you need a thing you can find it.

NL: Do you sometimes find yourself in an intensive or dramatic situation, and there's this little voice inside you logging the experience and saying, "Hey, this is great; I could write a story about this?"

Marusek: Not really, no. But I do consider everything fair game. Everything that happens to me, to people close to me, even perfect strangers, everything I observe is fair game.

NL: So you don't have the observer's curse?

Marusek: I don't really know what that is.

NL: The observer's curse is when you lose your spontaneity, when you find yourself witnessing and analyzing everything that happens, even your own emotions.

Marusek: I'm an observer; I've been that way my whole life, but I think I have as many blind sides as anyone. When it comes to being hurt I'd rather observe, of course. But no, I don't consider my ability to distance myself from things a curse.

NL: David, tell us about your workshop experiences.

Marusek: In 1992 I attended the Clarion West writer's conference, and it changed my life. Clarion is a six week residential workshop held every year in Seattle. Before you go, they tell you to put your life in order, and for the next six weeks you eat, breathe, and live science fiction and fantasy. Each week you have a published writer as the workshop instructor. The fifth week the instructor is a major editor in the field. My year, the fifth-week instructor was Gardener Dozois, the editor of Azimov's, which is probably the top magazine in speculative fiction.

Twenty people attend the workshop, so it's big enough to be intense, but small enough to be intimate. You write a story every week, and you critique nineteen other stories. Some of the people you meet become friends for life. And when you leave, you're plugged into the world of professional writing.

NL: How does Clarion compare to Milford?

Marusek: Milford is smaller, and a bit more professional. At Clarion, you get in by submitting a story. Twenty people out of a hundred or so are selected. To attend Milford, you have to have at least one professional sale. Milford is a week long, and you don't do a lot of writing. The stories you critique have already been written beforehand.

NL: How did you like England?

Marusek: I'm in culture shock right now, and that's something I never would have expected. As a writer, one of the things I notice is the way people put words together; the use of the language, you know? The two weeks total I spent in England, I felt almost as if I was learning a whole new language.

I loved England, though. I've decided do what it takes to go over there for a year. I think the change of scenery will do me, and my writing, a lot of good.

NL: What, leave Fairbanks for good?

Marusek: Never. I love this place. But I've made some important professional contacts in London, and I'd like to be there to develop them.

NL: Well, good luck.

Marusek: Thank you.

* Dozois' 13th Year's Best can be found at most bookstores, including the UAF bookstore.

* If you'd like to find out more about Clarion West, you can contact the New Lemming, and we'll be glad to plug you in.