An Interview with Jonathan Olfert
The mysterious powers of the obscure and the esoteric can pull the human mind far off the beaten track.
Jonathan Olfert explores these realms of forbidden power and eldritch truths in his short fiction piece ‘The Final Whisper’. Through the eyes of the protagonist Larkh, Olfert shows us how such power maps onto the mind of the mundane and the everyday – how it twists us, molds us, provides answers to questions nobody has ever thought to ask.
Jonathan is a dioramist and spreadsheet cruncher who lives on unceded Mi’kmaq territory near Halifax. He is, in his own words, “history’s eighth or ninth most prolific writer of speculative paleofiction” and his work has appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Dark Recesses Press, Lightspeed and Year’s Best Canadian Fantasy and Science Fiction.
We recently had the chance to ask Jonathan some questions about everything from his inspirations and writing habits, to his thoughts on the current speculative fiction zeitgeist.
What got you into writing in the first place?
When I was nine or ten, I started writing science fiction epics on looseleaf in a blue three-ring binder. My best friend and I had been playing the Star Wars d6 pen and paper RPG and running around with plastic spaceships. At fourteen I discovered fanfic and things spiralled from there.
We understand you have a day job – how do you find time to write?
Between work and family, I try to fit in a little bit of writing time every week. On a Friday or Saturday night, once everyone’s asleep, I might make a drink and hammer something out, see if the right idea strikes.
Are there any particular authors you look up to?
I really admire writers who work hard to avoid stock choices at a sentence-by-sentence, moment-by-moment level. I tend to write more plainly myself, but there’s a lot to learn from people like Joe Koch and Akwaeke Emezi – extremely different authors who do that kind of intentionality well and think about every word.
What is your approach to writing short fiction? How do you start?
I think it varies by story. My most engaging writing processes and most successful pieces have generally boiled down to ‘man in a hole’: pick a nasty situation with personal resonance, see if my viewpoint character can maneuver out of it fairly, with no guarantee of success.
Can you give us a few of your favourite pieces of short fiction?
Just off the top of my head: Sarah Pinsker’s ‘Where Oaken Hearts Do Gather’ in Uncanny, Kay Vaindal’s ‘Pig House’ in Seize the Press, Michael Wehunt’s ‘Greener Pastures,’ and Stephen Graham Jones’ ‘Father, Son, Holy Rabbit.’
You’re one of the most accomplished writers of Stone Age/Neolithic Fantasy out there – what drew you to this genre?
Genealogy, believe it or not. Years back I had my DNA sequenced, and I learned to use some fairly esoteric tools to run my data against a database of ancient samples. I was excited to find an unusually close genetic relative: a 4,000-year-old gentleman named Rathlin 1, unearthed at a pub in the same county where quite a few of my ancestors lived in the 1800s. Then I started reading books like The Smart Neanderthal and Inside the Neolithic Mind. I didn’t plan to write paleofiction, but what emerged was ‘Redfin Spine,’ my story in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, which wound up in the Year’s Best Canadian Fantasy and Science Fiction. I liked it and I kept at it.
What’s one trope you’re tired of seeing at the moment?
Governments breaking public services so it’s easier to privatize them. Oh, sorry, you mean in fiction?
What’s one thing you wish people wrote about more?
Financially sustainable local news.
“Make rejections your primary metric. Last year I almost cracked 200. Very freeing.”
What inspired you to write ‘The Final Whisper’?
‘The Final Whisper’ was inspired by the idea of getting dropped into a mental health crisis and the fear — which might or might not be rational — that you’re at risk of hurting someone. I’ve always been fairly open about having obsessive-compulsive disorder, like about 1% of Canada. Though OCD can manifest in a million different ways, that kind of fear is a very common feature.
A core element of this story is Larkh’s relationship with Tyrra and how it is influenced by eldritch, necromantic machinations. How did you go about writing this character arc?
The core of the story is just two partners, one in crisis, one trying to help and unsure how to do it. That was the shape the story took; the sorcery was just the incitement and the special effects. Call it sword-and-sorcery draped over a different genre (which is what a lot of sword-and-sorcery has always been).
The secrets of necromancy are alluded to with great restraint and intent. One line in particular, when Larkh first realises the influence of the scroll, stands out. Larkh noticed he has drawn “sketched machines, and prayer to things that lived behind the stars.” What do you think is the key to writing dark, insidious magic, and how has it informed your greater love for fantasy?
Going into my 20s, I had a lot of fun reading and writing technical, systematized, internally consistent magic with tons of proper nouns. My taste has shifted a lot since then. When looking at magic, I’d rather convey a sense of seeing a small part of a heterogeneous ecosystem, in parallel with the implied size and boundlessness of the world.
In the end, while Larkh is forced to leave Palako, he has banished the curse and has escaped with his sanity intact. Usually, dark fantasy errs towards lasting, debilitating consequences for their protagonists. What prompted you to subvert this trope?
Well, by the end, Larkh has a way to keep the curse more or less under control, but he’s still effectively an exile of the ‘you’ll never work in this town again’ variety, and he’s separated from Tyrra. It’s a hollow and short-lived victory; see below.
How long did it take you to write?
I dug up the original document’s version history, and it looks like the first draft (which was only 1900 words) took me around four hours across an evening and a very early morning. Beyond that, couldn’t tell you.
Do you have any plans to write more fiction in this world?
I got very excited when you asked to do this interview, because the timing is excellent. I’ve written several other stories about Larkh and/or Tyrra, and a couple of them have found good homes. One’s a novelette called ‘On Slate and Skin’ in the latest issue of Beneath Ceaseless Skies (#403). Another is ‘White in the Eye,’ coming up in issue #4 of New Edge Sword and Sorcery this summer.
What was the one moment that made you feel like a Real Author™?
Getting one of my Stone Age stories into the Year’s Best Canadian Fantasy and Science Fiction, then holding that book in my hands, is up there for sure.
How do you beat writer’s block?
Patience, gamification, long walks, hot showers. Recognizing that my life’s got a lot of bigger priorities, and being ready to take the opportunity to write when it arrives.
What’s one piece of advice you’d like to give to new writers who are eager to break into the speculative fiction world?
Go straight to the Submission Grinder, get familiar with its search function, and then start browsing markets for stories you enjoy reading. No, know what? Everyone says that. So, I’ll give you something off the beaten path: make rejections your primary metric. Last year I almost cracked 200. Very freeing.
Is there something about the industry that you wish you knew before you got involved?
There are plenty of serious milestones that’ll pay you money rather than cost it.
The sequel to ‘The Final Whisper’, ‘On Slate and Skin’, is out now in Beneath Ceaseless Skies Issue #403. You can see his full list of published works on his website.
One Response
Nice interview!