Welcome to the first Bookgeeks SF and Fantasy Author panel. We asked some of the leading lights of SF and Fantasy to give us their thoughts on a specific issue that affects them all as both writers and fans – and they said they would! Prompted by the plentiful interest in our recent post on Discworld illustrations, here’s what we asked them to ruminate on:

SF and Fantasy has a long tradition of supporting maps and visuals. Tell us…

• How did you (or would you) decide whether or not you wanted maps included with your work?
• How do you feel about cover art which explicitly portrays characters, vehicles or settings from your work? Do you think it enhances the reader’s experience?
• Would you ever like to see visualised versions of your work – graphic novels, illustrated editions, computer games, etc. – and if so what do you think would work best?

Meet the Panel

Alastair Reynolds	Jeff Somers
Alastair Reynolds was born in Barry, South Wales, in 1966. He studied at Newcastle and St Andrews Universities and has a Ph.D. in astronomy. He gave up working as an astrophysicist for the European Space Agency to become a full-time writer. Revelation Space and Pushing Ice were shortlisted for the Arthur C. Clarke Award; Revelation Space, Absolution Gap and Century Rain were shortlisted for the British Science Fiction Award, and Chasm City won the BSFA, and Diamond Dogs was shortlisted for the British Fantasy Award. His latest novel is House of Suns.	Jeff Somers was born in Jersey City, New Jersey. As a child he imagined he would be a brain surgeon, until a spirit-crushing experience convinced him that in order to be a brain surgeon he would have to actually attend school, work hard, and master basic mathematics. After a severe head trauma, he chose instead to write stories and learn the high art of cocktail mixing, and spent the next twenty years in a pleasant haze of fiction and booze. His latest book is The Digital Plague, which is a sequel to his SF debut The Electric Church.
Brian Ruckley	Jaine Fenn
Brian Ruckley lives in Edinburgh. After having a couple of short stories published in the 1990s, he took the start of the 21st century as a sign that the time had come to get serious about building up a bigger page count. His latest novel is Bloodheir, the sequel to Winterbirth. You can find out more about him and his work at www.brianruckley.com.	Jaine Fenn studied Linguistics and Astronomy at university. She has had a number of short stories published, and has an active blog at www.jainefenn.com. Principles of Angels is her first novel, and she has just completed a second set in the same universe.   Photo credit: James Cooke

Panellists’ responses

Jaine Fenn

I suspect a lot of writers create and use visual aids when writing – maps, diagrams of building/ship layouts etc – though whether they’d want them to be seen by anyone else is another matter. I have a badly  hand-drawn and messily annotated map of Khesh City in my desk; I found it useful to visualise where everything was when I was writing Principles of Angels, but it is not a thing of beauty, and I don’t think it’s necessary for the reader to see it to know what’s going on.

Yes, and despite my own feeling about the inclusion of such material in the finished book, I also make use of such aids in the writing process. With me it’s not so much landscape maps (because my stuff tends not to be like that) but structures, cities, huge space vehicles with lots of levels and sections. Sometimes these sketches come out of nowhere and give me an idea for a story or plot element, and sometimes they’re subservient to the story that’s already in my head. However I’m not very assiduous about keeping these things organised for later use. During the writing of Revelation Space I did have a 3-D, cutaway sketch for the Nostalgia for Infinity, showing how all the floor numbers related to different parts of the ship. I also had a map of Resurgam, showing the different human settlements. But if I had to go back into that story now, I’d have to rely on the clues in the text itself, since I’m buggered if I know where those sketches are.

I actually avoid creating visual aids simply because I would enjoy it so much I’d end up spending more time on the visual aid than on the actual story. I have a problem.

I do tend (rather unfairly) to associate maps with doorstop-sized fantasy quest novels, and (even more unfairly) sometimes wonder if the author thought they could cut a thousand words from said doorstep by using a picture instead *ducks to avoid virtual brickbats from other panellists*. Ultimately, if the author feels the map enhances their story, I reckon it should go into the book; if they feel they need a map to explain their story, then perhaps the story needs more work. I did consider whether I should include a map in the next book in the ‘Hidden Empire’ series, Consorts of Heaven, as it does feature a long cross-country journey not entirely unlike a fantasy quest. In the end I decided against it, both because the book is (despite initial appearances) SF, and because the nitty-gritty details of the journey matter far less than the experiences the characters have along the way, and the events that occur at the journey’s end.

I think it’s entirely understandable to associate maps with quest-type fantasy novels: most fantasy authors and publishers, and probably readers, make the same mental connection. Sometimes, I suspect, maps are specifically not included in a fantasy book nowadays partly as a way of indicating that the writer and/or publisher think the book’s a bit different from your average run-of-the-mill questing hijinks. Nothing wrong with that. I do think a little rehabilitation of the map’s in order, though. Historical and semi-historical fiction’s full of maps; historical non-fiction’s awash with the things; crime fiction has maps (in fact, I’m pretty sure the last one I read – an Inspector Morse – had a map in it); even literary fiction has maps. None of them seem to have the same vaguely negative connotations that maps in fantasy have acquired. I understand (or think I do) how those negative connotations have come about, and don’t think they’re entirely unjustified, but my personal map-love is stubbornly immune to their effects.

Regarding cover art, the policy of my publisher (Gollancz) means non-representative covers, so no characters or detailed settings. I’m fine with this, provided the cover gives a clear idea of the kind of book the reader is getting. In some ways, I prefer semi-abstract covers to a detailed and specific representation from the book, because there’s less for me to disagree with! Which is not to say I don’t like illustrations, both as a reader and as a writer. I know a very good graphic artist called Zer05um, who was the first person to represent the setting of Principles of Angels (he used it as a teaching project on ‘world-building’), and I love his pictures. Though I might disagree with an artist’s representation of a character or scene on one of my covers, I’d be flattered to see my work taken off into other media. For me, a cover is there to represent (indeed to sell) the book. However, once you’re talking about game, comic or film adaptations, it’s no longer just about your book, it’s people taking what you created and using it to create something more, something new. And since you ask, I think Principles of Angels would work really well as an anime.

Alastair Reynolds

I’m deeply ambivalent about all that stuff. I’ll certainly go out of my way never to include a map in one of my books – I’d rather throw myself under a bus, quite frankly. Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun is as complex and geographically wide-ranging a sequence of novels as any fat fantasy sequence, and he managed to tell it without recourse to a map. In fact, a map would have been a bad idea since much of the fun to be had from those books is in figuring out where everything takes place. Is Nessus Buenos Aires, etc? Certainly, there were times when I was unsure about the precise nature of Severian’s journey. But I’d far rather have the imaginative space opened up by that vagueness, than have everything pinned down by some exercise in nerdcore obsessiveness.

The Book of the New Sun is an inspired example to bring up on the subject of maps.  Wish I’d thought of that.  Sticking a map into it would have been a huge mistake.  I would say, though, that BotNS is some way out there towards one end of the scale when it comes to ‘imaginative space’: it creates an almost brain-melting amount of the stuff in a whole load of different ways (melted my brain, anyway).  Arguably, the prescriptive, literal implications of a map would fundamentally conflict with its entire tone and nature in a way they wouldn’t in most sf/f.  And though that’s an indisputable case of ‘Boy, I’m glad they didn’t put a map in that book’, I still can’t think of any book that’s left me with ‘Boy, I wish they hadn’t put a map in that book’.

I don’t think it’s fair to condemn all maps to “nerdcore obsessiveness”. Nothing helps immersion, in my opinion, more than a map (or other piece of visual material). That said, I see the point concerning a story like TBOTNS — a story I am still personally striving to comprehend in some ways. You don’t necessarily want to trade the aura of mystery and a certain amount of depth just for a fancy visual aid. But the maps in The Lord of the Rings, for example, rob the story of nothing and add a very enjoyable sense of reality—for that which can be mapped so meticulously might just exist.

I’m torn about cover art. I certainly don’t want photo-realistic depictions of major characters, unless there’s a degree of murkiness about the representation – character facing away from the reader, or in shadow. On the other hand, I’d like it if there was a way to signify to readers that there are actual flesh and blood people in my books; that it’s not all about huge spaceships. Very few crime novels depict the protagonist, and I suspect that’s the way to go – something that conveys the mood of the book without going into boring specificity. I’d be intrigued to see visualised versions of my work, so long as it was clear that each was merely one interpretation, no more right or wrong than the next one. I like the way there are now several distinct interpretations of Dune, differing in some ways and similar in others. Really, though, it doesn’t occupy me too much. I’m primarily a reader of prose fiction, rather than a reader of graphic novels, player of computer games etc. That said, I’m interested in illustration in its own right (once upon a time I thought I would become an artist rather than a writer) and there may be moves in that direction at some point, maybe along the lines of some kind of Revelation Space sketchbook or illustrated novella.

Brian Ruckley

Well, I love maps of any kind, so I’m biased. But everyone who read my first book, Winterbirth, before publication was of one mind: ‘A map’d be a good idea.’ That makes it a bit of a no-brainer to include one. In fact, my books have got a case of map inflation, because there’re three of the things in the second book, Bloodheir. On the whole, I’d say the first and by far the most important question when you’re trying to decide whether or not to have a map is the obvious one: Is not having a map liable to detract from the reader’s enjoyment? If the answer to that is “Yes”, or even “Possibly”, for a non-trivial proportion of potential readers, then have a map. As a reader, having a map in a book (whether it’s fantasy, SF, historical fiction, non-fiction, literary fiction – maps are by no means limited to sf/f) has never, ever reduced my enjoyment of that book; not having one has, on occasion, even if only slightly. But, like I said, I’m biased.

I love maps as well – stick me in a car with a roadmap and I’m happy as can be. So I guess I ought to like the presence of maps in books, but I suppose it’s not so much the inclusion of the map itself as what I perceive as the association of maps with a certain type of fantasy novel that isn’t really my cup of tea. But I accept that that’s a massively unfair generalisation and there can be very good books – very good fantasy books – with maps in. I do wonder, though, if there isn’t a certain type of reader who’ll always want a map, so it’s almost a given that they’d insist on one whether the book really needs one or not. I guess for me, a big factor in enjoying genre novels, especially SF and Fantasy, is figuring out the ontological “puzzle” of what’s going on; how the world works and how it all fits together. Shoving a map in at the beginning seems like a bit of a spoiler in that regard. Thanks, but I’d rather work all that out for myself! However, I fully accept that if the overwhelming feedback was to include a map, then it made sense to do so.

As far as cover art is concerned, without wanting to be too cold-blooded about the whole thing, its purpose is to tickle the eyeballs of the bookshop browser and seduce or intrigue them into picking a book up, maybe reading the blurb on the back. If the thing most likely to do that in a particular market or genre is a nice painting of the major character, then I’m all for it. On a personal level, I guess I have a slight reservation about illustrative covers, in that you could argue they might slightly intrude on the readers’ ability to visualise those things for themselves, but I suspect that if the book’s engaging enough the cover is soon forgotten and the reader’s own imagination takes precedence.

I have to admit that despite my dislike of literal covers, I must agree with this sentiment: If the publisher said to me, you’ll sell a lot better with this goofy drawing of your main character on the cover, I’d be hard-pressed to fight that. I want my words to be read widely, after all, and if a artistic, subtle cover is a hindrance to that, well, in the long run the cover is just window dressing.

I don’t really know, in general, whether or not such covers enhance the reader’s experience. Any cover, of whatever kind, can sometimes set the reader up with expectations about what kind of book awaits beyond it. In often quite subtle and unconscious ways, they put readers into a certain kind of mood, if you like, which might make them more or less receptive to different aspects of the story. Whether that’s an enhancement of their reading experience or not probably depends on how well the book delivers on what the cover promises or implies.

What he said.

In principle, I’d love to see as many different versions of my work as possible, visual or otherwise, infesting the world like a rash (it’d be a benign, non-itchy rash, obviously. Nothing to worry about.). Ten or twenty years for now, who knows how big the audience (or the income!) is going to be for a non-household-name author relying just on that paper and ink novel? The world’s changing, for all the creative industries, pretty fast and in unpredictable ways. Spreading your story as widely as possible, any way you can, has got to be a good idea for those who are lucky enough to get the chance. If someone wanted to do an interpretative dance version of my novels, I’d be all for it. What would work best? I was a big comic reader when I was younger, and have been getting back into graphic novels a bit recently, so that’d be a lot of fun. Back when I had time to play a lot of computer games (ah, happy days), though, I was hooked with a capital H on the Total War series: huge armies hammering away at each other on wide battlefields, clouds of arrows darkening the sky. Hours of bloody but harmless entertainment. My books have got armies and battlefields and clouds of arrows: it’s a natural fit, if you ask me.

Jeff Somers

I’m of the school of thought that believes there is no literary problem that cannot be solved with: More maps. Sadly, since the Avery Cates books are set in a future Earth which is very recognizably based on the modern world—just rusted and scraped and rotted out a little—including a map with the books never occurred to me, for obvious reasons.

I wish I could include some maps; I love maps. When I was a kid part of the fascination I had for the first books I ever read—The Lord of the Rings, The Wizard of Oz, The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant—were the fantastic maps included. But to squeeze maps into the Cates books we’d have to either just Photoshop some Google Maps of New York City. Or possibly include a map of something completely unrelated to the story—my house, perhaps, or Lithuania. Although I think my publisher’s marketing department might be puzzled, and possibly angered, by that. And come burn my house down in the evening.

Maybe a lot of this has to do with touchstone works; the kinds of book we grew up with and shaped our tastes. For one reason or another I just wasn’t exposed to any of those books during my formative years (I was in my thirties before I read Tolkein!) and so I didn’t really get the map thing. Perhaps if Clarke or Asimov had put maps in the fronts of my books, I’d feel differently. Now I’m trying to think of an iconic SF work that has a map in it – is there one in Dune? I don’t have a copy handy to check, but I seem to remember that there was… [Ed: AR is correct, Dune has a map of Arrakis at the front.]

Despite my comments above, I’m also a map addict. I prefer maps of real places, especially ones I have visited / will visit, and the more detailed the better (mmm … contours). Having said that, I was that girl-geek teen with a map of Middle-Earth on my bedroom wall. There are certainly books out there that need maps; they’re just not ones I’d write, or tend to read. Al’s example of The Book of the New Sun is indeed an excellent example of a book that doesn’t need one.

I dislike covers that too literally depict scenes and / or characters from a book, no matter how artfully rendered. As a reader I always prefer to construct my own scenes and faces in my mind’s eye, and resent any intrusion onto that. I think about the covers to Jordan’s Wheel of Time series—nothing at all like what I saw in my mind’s eye, and simply for that reason alone they were excruciatingly disappointing. And a little irritating. Always made me want to burn down someone’s house.

Illustrated editions are often much better simply because of the author’s input—although, to be honest, I don’t really want to know what the author sees when writing the story; I like my interpretation. As an author I believe that once you let go of a story—once you release it—you lose control over it. It becomes property of the reader. If they want to imagine your main character wearing a tutu, that’s their right. While I would be delighted to see all sorts of interpretations of my work out there, I’d prefer they be “inspired by” instead of literal adaptations. Take the source, have fun with it, but don’t do a line-by-line presentation. This way people can still hang onto their own imaginings, no matter how perverse. And I think my readers’ interpretations would be really perverse.

Bookgeeks write…

Thanks to our panellists – and now its your turn to tell us what you think:

• How often do you, the reader, refer to maps when provided? Maybe you draw your own maps?
• How do you cope navigating fantasy worlds without a map?
• How representative (or otherwise) do you like SF and Fantasy book covers to be?
• Any favourite books that you think would make good Manga? Or computer games? Or films?

Are our panellists talking sense, or something else? Who do you agree with? Leave us your thoughts using the ‘Leave a Reply’ box below.

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