Interviews

Q: Your brother Jeremy Owen's essay in Secrets of the Dragon Riders, the book you were editor on, is about seeing the author in his or her work-and how you're really only seeing yourself. Which character from Paolini's books to you most see yourself in?

A: I would dearly love to say Eragon, but I'm afraid it's Roran. He's a guy who makes lots of good decisions that unfortunately have bad repercussions. He's always trying to do the right thing, but can't seem to catch a break. I hope I'm luckier than he is-- but the fact I can identify with his struggles may mean that I can give myself the opportunity to learn from his character. There are always opportunities to learn, and grow-- and to try to make better choices than the characters we identify with in the books we read.

Q: You write about dragons yourself in Here, There Be Dragons and the rest of the books in that series (The Search for the Red Dragon, The Indigo King). Are your dragons anything like Saphira?

A: Hmm. Good question. I think yes, after a fashion-- because all dragons are going to be unknowable in a lot of ways. They're going to be older (as a species) and wiser, and enigmatic. But those traits make it more significant when one of them DOES form a bond with one of us humans. They're something to be feared and respected in both my books and Christopher's.

Q: What fascinates you about dragons? Why do you think other people are fascinated by dragons?

A: Mine came about because of the Imaginarium Geographica, the atlas of maps of every land you've ever read about from every myth, legend, fable, and fairy tale. On the eastern edge of all the maps is the warning, "Go ye no further, for here there be dragons." I got it from a real old mariner's map, and so of course, I had to have dragons in the story! But I think the possibility that creatures may have existed that we know nothing of today inspires something even more powerful: belief. We WANT to believe in dragons. We WANT to believe in magical creatures. We WANT there to be something out there to discover. And for me, one of the best metaphors for that belief is dragons.

Q: You also wrote an essay for our anthology on Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, A New Dawn. You were our only male contributor, and we're lucky to have you, because I feel like we girls could use a male perspective on this particular question: Edward, or Jacob?

A: *Blink blink* I just realized that I was the only male in that group. Suddenly I feel like I'm in Eighth-Grade Orchestra all over again-- surrounded by a bunch of pretty, talented women who are all shorter than I am.

Between the two (Edward and Jacob) I prefer Edward. Jacob has appealing traits that are subtle, but end up outshining his obvious flaws; Edward is appealing from the start, and then Bella has to reconcile the flaws that appear. But he is always the hero of the story-- and every guy wants to be the hero in his girl's eyes.

Q: Your A New Dawn essay is partly about the undervalued genre of romance. Will you tell us a little bit here about what "romance" used to mean, and what it has in common with stories about dragons?

A: Romance (with a capital R) used to be the genre of possibility: anything could happen in a Romance, and usually did. It's only been in recent decades that Romance has been overtaken by (little r) romance and straitjacketed into one narrow category of story. Romance used to be the province of writers like Shelley and Keats: it's these people writers like Stephenie and (I hope) myself are following after, learning from as we blaze our own trails. And regarding dragons: what could be more romantic than discovering a great adventure, than finding lost maps, or leaning that one is the lost heir to a magnificent legacy? What's more romantic that believing-- even if only for a brief moment-- that dragons might really exist? That sense of wonder, and the flame it fans within each of us is literally what good Romance-- and stories about dragons-- are all about.

Q: You were the illustrator for the books in the Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica as well as the writer. What was it like wearing two "hats" for the project?

A: I've never separated the two. To me, all of my work-- novels, comics, screenplays-- contain both components. I write visually, and when I'm first outlining a book, I'm composing thumbnail illustrations of the art at the same time. My early drafts of comic books are no different than my early drafts of novels. I also think one strengthens the other. Sometimes the art will inspire new scenarios in the writing; and sometimes the writing will evoke images that hadn't yet occurred to me. It works both ways-- and they're interconnected. I sometimes feel something is missing if I write something I don't also illustrate. And I've often illustrated other writers' work, but that's more interpreting than creating to me, because it's imagery that someone else invented.

Q: Paolini was pretty young when he first wrote Eragon. When did you first discover your love of writing?

A: Chris and I have that in common. I started doing little versions of Goldilocks and Red Riding Hood and selling them to the neighbors when I was five. When I was fifteen, I wrote and illustrated a comic called Pryderi Terra and then published it myself. At sixteen, I was the youngest professional exhibitor ever to attend the San Diego Comicon - and all of that work and experience later coalesced in my graphic novel project Starchild. The graphic novels led to an invitation to write the Mythworld novels, and those gave me the experience I needed to write Here, There Be Dragons.

Q: What are you working on right now?

A: Book Four and Book Five of The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica; the next issue of Starchild: Mythopolis II; and one or three other things

Q: If you could tell us to read one book this year, what would it be?

A: It'd be hard to go wrong recommending A Wrinkle in Time or any of Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain, but at the moment, I'm really pleased with how The Indigo King turned out, and I don't think anyone who picks it up will be disappointed. It has several badgers, among other things-- and if the presence of badgers isn't a sign of a worthwhile book, then I don't know what is.