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New
Worlds to Conquer
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Teri
Currie
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Most
writers would be happy to form just one literary identity,
but Barbara Chepaitis can honestly say she has two. As B.A.
Chepaitis, she has written a series of sci-fi adventures starring
a futuristic heroine named Jaguar. And as Barbara Chepaitis,
she has written two mainstream novels, 2000’s Feeding Christine
and the newly published These Dreams.
“I
had someone ask me when Christine came out, ‘Are you
any relation to B.A. Chepaitis?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, she’s
my evil twin,’ ” the author says, laughing. “I’m fine with
any way the world wants to put me out there. I don’t make
any distinctions. I just write.”
Published by Pocket Books, the new tome explores a series
of transformations in the life of Cricket Thompson, a woman
whose roles as a wife and mother are shaken by unexpected
trauma and temptation. Woven into the book are vignettes depicting
the place that dreams have in Cricket’s life—and, in a larger
sense, depicting the place that dreams have in all of our
lives. Chepaitis says that the unconscious realm is fertile
ground for her creativity, and that dreaming was as important
to the conjuring of her new book as it is to the novel’s content.
“When
I write, I don’t mess with my consciousness,” says Chepaitis.
“I go into the world that I’m writing about and I work from
there. It’s not rational. I just sort of dance with the energies
and see what happens next. When I edit, I come back to consciousness,
and I’m often rudely awakened—‘Shit, what’d I write? And how
am I gonna deal with this now?’ My copy editor’s training
comes back to me and I try to make this kind of dreamworld
available to people who might be conscious while they’re reading
it.”
Chepaitis also can speak authorita-tively on the subject of
transformation, which is essential to Cricket’s journey, because
the author has evolved from a teacher to a sci-fi writer to
the scribe behind two literary novels. While she acknowledges
that moving from genre fiction to straight fiction was a change,
however, she says that her process is the same no matter what
sort of book she’s writing.
“I’ve
actually always written mainstream as well as the genre stuff,”
she notes. “It’s just that now I’m getting the mainstream
[books] published. . . . It’s kind of nice having a double
identity. I’m enjoying that in a gleeful, sort-of- mischievous
way, being two people and sort of shocking people with that.”
Chepaitis, who teaches at the University of Albany, says she
plans to continue occupying both literary personas, adding
that although her most recent contract for books about Jaguar
expired, she’s currently negotiating with a new publisher
to put out the next two Jaguar adventures—both of which are
already written. As her productivity suggests, Chepaitis still
derives immense pleasure from the act of writing, which she
likens to exploration.
“I
think people who write fiction are kind of like shamans—they
go out into this weird world, they grab some stuff, and they
come back with it, and then they try to make it available
to other people,” she says. “In all my novels, in genre and
mainstream, my characters do that: They go back and forth
between worlds.”
Chepaitis says that occasionally, moving back and forth between
different types of writing can cause a kind of authorial whiplash.
While writing These Dreams, Chepaitis was forced to
engage a character’s personal tragedy on a more intimate level
than she had before, because the heroine of her sci-fi books
has resources of which realistic characters can’t avail themselves.
“She
doesn’t have superpowers,” the author says of Cricket, “so
there’s things she can’t do that Jaguar can. So in that sense,
I feel the frustration of that—the sort of pitiful human condition—more
strongly with my mainstream characters. [Cricket] is a lot
more innocent, as opposed to Jaguar and people in her world,
who are edgy and so cynical. But [tragedy] is harder for her
to bear, and therefore harder for me to bear. There were some
hard scenes for me to write.”
Even harder, perhaps, is the activity that’s keeping Chepaitis
busy right now: the draining, repetitive process of giving
interviews like this one to promote These Dreams. “There’s
a great beast leaping up from my belly telling me to drink
beer,” she says, her longing for liquid refreshment palpable.
“You write in this very warm, intensely wonderful, blissful
space—or at least I do—and then you have to bring that to
an industry. It’s a machine, and you have to have a whole
different set of costuming to deal with it. The transition
is difficult.”
—Peter
Hanson
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