As one who began writing as a boy, I find it astonishing that Stanley C. Sargent did not write his first story until the age of 44. In the brief years since that time, Sargent has further astonished by becoming one of the foremost - and most original - practitioners of the Lovecraftian tale, having seen his award-winning work appear in books and publications from the likes of Chaosium and Mythos Books, and at a variety of web sites. Sargent's first collection, ANCIENT EXHUMATIONS, 1999, met with wide acclaim, and the publisher Mythos Books promises more collections from this prolific author, including a reissue of ANCIENT EXHUMATIONS, QOM-MAQ, NIGHTMARE OF KNOSSOS, and NYARLATOPHIS AND OTHER LOVECRAFTIAN INCURSIONS. The novella NYARLATOPHIS, A FABLE OF ANCIENT EGYPT will also see print in the book FROM KADATH TO CARCOSA from Hive Press. Sargent resides in San Francisco.

JT: There is a striking image in your novella NYARLATOPHIS, A FABLE OF ANCIENT EGYPT, which I consider to be your finest piece of work, in which a titanic sphinx-like creature emerges from the burning ruins of its temple. While your fiction abounds in terrific imagery, I see in this chimera a symbolic representation of your approach to fiction - an awe-inspiring blend of archeology and mythology, the real and the unreal, artfully fused together into one breathing, living form. Your incredibly detailed research gives your fiction a sense of credibility and a true sense of style. How did you arrive at this approach?

SS: I'm happy to hear you enjoyed NYARLATOPHIS so much! Quite honestly, it was a bitch to write. Authoring fiction is such a personal means of communicating one's dreams, fears, fantasies, etc., so I find it very encouraging when the work is well-received.

In what are often my longer stories, I do blend historical fact and myth with my own creations, putting my own over-the-top slant on the past. As you note, I do a great deal of research before using any historical setting because, like Lovecraft, my aim is to supplement historical fact without contradicting it in any way. When I first read "At the Mountains of Madness" as a teenager, I was bowled over by the utterly convincing argument Lovecraft made for the actual existence of the Old Ones as he backed up his premise with hard scientific facts that he then proceeded to embellish. It was magical for me, so I try to achieve that same impact using similar techniques. If I do my job well and my readers will allow the possibility of certain supernatural elements, then who's to say my rendering of history isn't what really happened?

The tough part is being creative about it, especially when you're working on a cosmic scale rather than with a monster that threatens just a few people or a town. I love monsters, and despite the fact that it's very tempting to write a new version of the same old monster scenarios that have been kicking around forever, I can't bring myself to do it. I can't write about how the evil monster miraculously appears, people eventually come to believe in it, some folks die, then finally someone comes up with a weapon to kill the thing so the world will once again be safe. On top of that, I strive to create a sense of "cosmic awe," trying to not only think big but write big. And I assure you it's really tough to come up with any sort of original beastie these days, let alone one that's unique yet believable, especially when the monster is indestructible and/or immortal.

I always overdo the historical research, which makes it impossible for me to churn out stories quickly. NYARLATOPHIS, for instance, involved nearly a year of research. The first thing I did was reject any thoughts about mummies being in the story. The biggest challenges were to come up with something original and to avoid any blatant historical inaccuracies in the text. For example, I originally had 11th Dynasty Egyptians traveling around on horseback and on camels until, that is, I discovered neither the horse nor the camel was introduced to Egypt until centuries later. The same applies to the use of the bow and arrow. I like to think I even educate some of my readers with these historical stories and encourage them to read more about ancient history. I am appalled at the historical and scientific inaccuracy so obvious in most books and films. That's something I do my best always to avoid.

JT: You've been fortunate to have done some traveling, and actually visit some ancient ruins. Have you ever utilized any of your personal experiences in your writing?

SS: I've not traveled nearly as much as I would like. In the mid-1970's, I attended an international conference on the decipherment of Mayan glyphs and visited a few ruins around Guatemala City as well as hob-nobed (i.e., got drunk) with some of the top scholars in the field, particularly the late, great Linda Schele. Then in the summer of 1979, I spent a month in Iran shortly before the hostages were taken. An Iranian friend and I drove from Tehran to the Caspian Sea in the north, then all the way to Shiraz in the south. The Ayatollah Khomeini was in power at the time, so we stopped in Qom, the holy city where he had taken up residence, and spent two days at his compound, discussing issues with other holy men and the Ayatollah's personal body guard in hope of getting an interview. When I finally got an appointment for an interview, it was set for over a month away; unfortunately I had to be back in the U.S. before that, so it didn't materialize. I reveled in the ancientness of that country, and particularly fell in love with the ruin of Persepolis where Cyrus the Great, Darius the Great, and Xerxes built grand stone palaces on a plateau. I'd always wanted to see the colossal winged, human-faced bull sculptures that had once guarded the gates to the city, and I have a couple photos of myself standing next to them. The city was burned to the ground by Alexander the Great around 500 b.c.e. Now that's history!

I used my recollections of Persepolis in "Dark Demonize," and have plans for a novella, THE VISION SERPENT, that will utilize some of the things I learned at the Mayan conference.

I'd love to visit Egypt, but alas, I doubt I'll ever make it there.

JT: NYARLATOPHIS puts me in mind of the Egypt-based Lovecraftian work of Robert Bloch, and for me surpasses it, though to be fair Bloch was very young at the time. What other influences besides Lovecraft have inspired your fiction?

SS: I read a couple of the Bloch tales to which you refer but so many years ago that I don't believe they had any influence on my novella. I did, however, dedicate my "Tale of Toad Loop" story to Bloch out of respect for his work.

As far as other influences, I have to say John Varley's masterpiece trilogy of TITAN, WIZARD and DEMON made a tremendous impression on me and on my work, once I got through the difficult first 100 pages of TITAN, that is. Varley masterfully combined exciting speculative sci-fi, Greek mythology, philosophy and outrageous humor in those three volumes. As much as Lovecraft influenced my style and plotting, Varley's trilogy runs a close second. Varley also proved to me that a little humor doesn't necessarily ruin the overall effect of an exciting adventure tale.

William Hope Hodgson's sea terror tales bowled me over and taught me that a truly horrific action scene is often far more effective if kept to just a few lines rather than being dragged out and belabored. He was a genius at describing horrors that pop out of nowhere, strike and vanish within a few concise and terrifying sentences.

The bizarre imagery of Clark Ashton Smith's work also had an impact on my imagination.

JT: NYARLATOPHIS has the feeling of an epic, and has a message about the indomitable courage of mankind that offsets the oppressive sense of doom that permeates the story. I was reminded of other great art as I read this tale ... the way Nyarlatophis is kept sinisterly behind the scenes for the bulk of the story put me in mind of DRACULA ... the framework of the story, in which modern day researchers uncover the ancient tale, calls to mind A. S. Byatt's POSSESSION...the ominous approach of the plague-bearing sorcerer made me think of THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH and also of Nick Cave's song RED RIGHT HAND. Can you tell me how this masterpiece evolved ... what its initial sparks of inspiration were?

SS: I purposely strove to instill an epic feel to NYARLATOPHIS and the Qom-maq tales ("From Darker Heavens" and "Synopticon of Fear"). Much of the body of these tales consists of translations of ancient documents penned by highly educated men, so the language had to have a somewhat formal and archaic feel to it without lapsing into parody.

I've been reading everything I can find concerning the "heretic pharaoh" Akhenaten for years as I'm obsessed with him. Dan Ross and I went to L.A. last year just to see the "Pharaohs of the Sun" exhibit, and the colossal statue of Akhenaten stunned me; it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, including Tut's golden mask which I saw in the '70's.

When I mentioned the possibility of writing a tale set in ancient Egypt, my good friend and publisher, Dave Wynn of Mythos Books, encouraged me (read "nagged me") to include references to Lovecraft's Nyarlathotep in the story. I looked through Lovecraft's stories for references to that mysterious figure, locating them with the aid of Joshi's indices of his work. But, aside from the short poem "Nyarlathotep," Lovecraft doesn't exactly provide a precise definition of the character and there are lots of conflicting indications from story to story. By that time, however, the idea was lodged in my brain, haunting me and challenging me to come up with a worthwhile premise. I plunged into book after book about ancient Egypt until a scenario finally began to congeal in my brain. Still, as I began the actual writing, I wasn't all that sure where I was going with it, which made the development over the next eight months rather drawn out and painful. I am satisfied with the end product, however, so I guess it was worth all the self-torture involved.

JT: You are also an artist, and your love of ancient cultures is evident here as well (of particular note are the illustrations for your friend W. H. Pugmire's book DREAMS OF LOVECRAFTIAN HORROR). Describe your influences and approach to your art. What medium(s) do you use? Have you ever tried computer art?

SS: I've never had any formal training in art, which would have been vital if I were going to really try and make it as an artist. Mayan art has always impressed me more than any other style of artwork, possibly because, like me, they liked to throw a bit of humor into complicated depictions of terrible, impossible creatures.

I enjoy working with color and in black and white. After messing around with watercolors for a while, I moved on to the airbrush because of the incredible effects possible with that method. I wanted to achieve the realism of Salvador Dali's work (although he did not use an airbrush) and Alberto Vargas (who did use the airbrush). A commercial artist friend gave me a few tips and I got quite good at airbrush painting. I did a number of paintings, but as the small press usually can't afford gray scale, let alone color, I've reverted to doing black and white pen and ink work. I've had a fair number of pieces published here and in the U.K., but the book I illustrated for my friend Wilum Pugmire is likely to be the only book I will ever do all the artwork for. I've come to realize the fiction is more important to me; I am a better writer than I am an artist.

I did an illustration for ANCIENT EXHUMATIONS using Photoshop on the computer with Dan Ross instructing me every step of the way, but that's all the computer art I've attempted.

JT: While NYARLATOPHIS is very grim, your sense of humor abounds in the body of your work (particularly in your series of stories involving the characters of Jeb and Martin). Occasionally one of your tales, such as "The Tale of Toad Loop," can be painfully poignant. Do you know the tone of each story as you begin it, or does that evolve over the course of the writing?

SS: I definitely know the tone of a tale before I write it, whether it is horror or humor-horror, although critics and readers alike tell me my sense of humor plays a part in even the most serious scenario.

I like to think my stories not only entertain, but often teach a lesson or provide food for thought. In particular, I've tackled some social issues both subtly and brazenly, such as racism, homophobia, and even whether or not mankind is a mistake of nature, a virus-like plague that destroys its own host which, in this case, is the planet and all the other living things upon it. I found it most interesting that there was no sense of racial discrimination in ancient Egypt, for instance, so I make the point in NYARLATOPHIS that the protagonist's most trusted friend is a "dark-skinned Nubian" who becomes the most honored person in the land next to pharaoh. In "The Hoppwood Tenant," a town makes a rather unexpected decision concerning the fate of a bizarrely alien creature, based not on its bizarre appearance but its intentions.

As far as the gay thing goes, well, I'm gay and open about it, but I'm not what I'd term a "gay author" if that is taken to mean my work caters to a gay audience, as it certainly does not. I feel I have something to say to a much larger audience. Some of my characters are gay, but they certainly don't dominate my work, and the majority of my tales don't refer to the characters' sexuality at all simply because it is totally irrelevant to the plot.

In "The Tale of Toad Loop," the narrator relates his experiences as observed from his point of view, which turns out in great part to be a total distortion of a far more horrible reality. In "From Darker Heavens," in order to stop the devastation, King Minos must choose not only self-sacrifice but he must kill the pleading remnants of his beloved son. Many of my characters go through complete revision not only of their worldviews but also of their treatment of and attitude toward their fellow characters.

I've also written about the topics of suicide and how a child's familial environment can lead to a murderously distorted view of the world around him. In "Dark Family Values," which you published in your much-missed "The End" magazine, I explored the effects of physical and mental child abuse within a tale of the supernatural. In NYARLATOPHIS and in another, as yet unfinished tale, I touch upon the AIDS issue as well, something I am very familiar with, not only because I live in San Francisco, but because I'm HIV positive myself.

JT: How did Jeb and Martin come to evolve? How many stories have they been in?

SS: My readers are, for the most part, sharply divided over my humor-horror tales, the most notable examples being the three (soon to be four) Jeb and Martin adventures. They either love the humor or feel it is a waste, even a betrayal of my serious work.

For me, the writing of these particular tales is a lot like a welcome vacation after researching, struggling and stressing over a serious tale for months. At the same time, the fans of good ol' Jeb and Martin really say they love them and want more! Peter Worthy, certainly the pair's biggest fan, hopes to publish a collection of nothing but Jeb and Martin tales next year, which means I need to pen one or two more in the near future.

I actually wrote "Trust Me," the first adventure of Deep Ones Jeb and Martin, to work off a load of frustration. I'd only written three tales ever at that point, including the first of my Qom-maq tales, and when I finally got the nerve to send them to an editor, he rejected them all with the not-too-subtle hint that I wasn't meant to be an author. I sat down and vented my anger, frustration and disappointment by writing this sarcastic piece aimed squarely at that particular editor. It's short, so when I finished it, I submitted it to him just for the hell of it. The fool didn't "get" the sarcasm of the story at all -- he loved it! Unfortunately, he dropped out as co-editor of that particular anthology, so the "boys" weren't to see print until Bob Price printed the story in one of his Necronomicon Press periodicals.

I enjoy the fact that, although they come off as harmless, dumb hicks who share a very dark sense of humor and love of outrageous puns, Jeb and Martin are actually heartless, inhuman and irredeemably evil characters! I picture Jeb as a J. Edgar Hoover look-alike, a heavyset man with the sagging jowls and bulging eyes. Martin, on the other hand, is younger and more svelte than his partner. The dialect may not be authentic to New England, but that's because it's based on my memories of the way the farm folk spoke in Ohio where I grew up. The pair had actually come alive in my mind by the time I began the third tale in the series, "The Deepest of Maters" [sic], so the three of us have a lot of chuckles together as "we" continue their adventures.

I'm proud of the fact that the second Jeb and Martin tale, "Just a Tad Beyond Innsmouth," won the Origin award for best gaming-related short story after its appearance with "Trust Me" in Chaosium's TALES OUT OF INNSMOUTH.

JT: Your plots are intricately constructed, and in the case of your historically-based epics, one doesn't know where fact and fiction divide. I actually let out a gasp of both shock and admiration at one point in NYARLATOPHIS (I won't give the scene away, but it involves the utterance of the word, "Azathoth"), which illustrated to me the skillfulness of your plotting. How much of this is blueprinted ahead, before you actually write the tale? How much revision takes place?

SS: I'd estimate I usually have only about a forty percent idea of a story's plot figured out ahead of time, but I challenge myself constantly as I write, devising new, subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, twists. Why write a predictable tale? I never know what the story's ending will be until I get to it. If I had it all worked out in my head beforehand, I'd get very bored during the course of putting the story on paper. This way, I'm as surprised as much as the readers!

I have to forbid myself to revise as I write, as I get stuck rewriting the same section over and over again. So once I start, I keep going to the end, although there are always pauses in the work, sometimes lasting for months, while I strive to come up with something as exciting, original and creative as possible.

Upon completion, I revise the hell out of the language and phrasing of the piece many times, although I rarely make any major alterations to the storyline itself at that late date.

And, if you want to find out where fact ends and fiction begins, the best way to find out is to pursue the subject through further, non-fiction reading, which I like to think my stories will inspire some readers to do.

JT: Tell us about your Qom-Maq Mythos; how did that come about and how many stories are there in the series?

SS: The second story I ever wrote was "From Darker Heavens," and it had been brewing in my head for years before I decided I was ready to tackle it. Qom-Maq, the bad-boy, is an interdimensional entity that gets "shat" out of his own universe by its own kind. "He" ends up in Knossos, the ancient capital of Crete, at the court of the mythical King Minos. A formless vapor in our dimension, Qom-maq is not a simple shape-shifter, rather, he is a nearly indestructible blender of other living things, thinking nothing of combining humans with animals, marine life, plants, and more. His eventual aim is to bring down the gods of Olympus themselves. He transforms himself into several deadly mutations, the first being the Minotaur.

It's a story within a story that embraces and reinterprets several aspects of Greek mythology, and at the same time incorporates the latest archaeological theories and discoveries concerning ancient Crete.

This story was intended to be complete in and of itself, and it only contains one Lovecraftian element mentioned in passing. However, I feel the spirit and mood of the story are very Lovecraftian, When I finished, Bob Price insisted the Qom-maq saga couldn't end there, that I had to write a sequel. It was two years later before I came up with a viable concept for a sequel, which became "Synopticon of Fear." This installment takes Qom-maq to a much more threatening and powerful level as he divides himself in two. Part of him travels the black holes and dark matter of the universe in an attempt to undermine and overthrow the god Jehovah that he's heard so much about, while the other portion remains here within an artificially-created subterranean land populated with Greek mythological anomalies.

Bob was delighted with the sequel, dubbing it more of a fantasy with sci-fi elements as compared to the pure horror tale of the original. But he still wasn't satisfied; he insisted I make it a trilogy. It was two years before I came up with even the germ of an idea for a third tale, and it made for a hell of a challenge as I wanted to outdo myself with each successive installment of the trilogy. About a third of the way through "The Pall of Darkness," I realized I wasn't satisfied with where it was headed, so I took a break. The next thing I knew, I was sidetracked by other, more pressing projects, including NYARLATOPHIS, so I have yet to complete the third installment, which definitely will be the end of the series.

In the meantime, other authors have asked permission to use Qom-maq in their stories, one wanting to add Qom-maq to the Lovecraftian pantheon, which I'm very much against. So I have refused permission for anyone to use the character in any way until I'm done with him. Once the third and final tale is complete, Dave Wynn of Mythos Books plans to publish the trilogy as a novel.

JT: Do films ever influence your work? What movies might have made an impact on you, or are favorites of yours?

SS: I was very influenced as a child by the special effects Ray Harryhausen created for the Sinbad and Jason and the Argonauts films, though to be quite honest, I'm not sure if I found the half-naked handsome stars or the monsters more exciting! But those movies taught me how easy it is, when writing as a character from ancient times, to slip into a silly style with the character saying such things as "By the gods!" and other hokey stuff. By the way, several years ago Kerwin Matthews of "The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad" came into a store where I was working. I couldn't believe the guy who fought a cyclops was right there in the room with me. I shyly let him know I recognized him and he seemed very pleased; he's quite a gentlemen.

I loved "Evil Dead II" and "Army of Darkness" so much that I not only interviewed Bruce Campbell by phone (the interview being later published on the Internet), but I began a screenplay for a sequel to the latter film. My script was very Lovecraftian, just as Sam Raimi's scripts for these movies tended to be, only more so, but I didn't finish it after Campbell refused to look at it or pass it on to Raimi, all but threatening me with copyright violation. Now, however, even though Raimi and Campbell have both given their blessings to other authors of stories based on the films' scenarios, I am not interested in finishing my script.

I should also mention the original film version of Shirley Jackson's "The Haunting" and "Forbidden Planet" as influences on me as a kid. And I love all those old black and white vintage sci-fi and horror films so much that I have collected many of them on video. Most of these are pretty bad, but they serve as excellent examples of what's already been done and what should never have been done in the first place ... on film or paper!

JT: What writers amongst your contemporaries do you enjoy?

SS: Frankly, I rarely have time to read fiction anymore, particularly contemporary fiction. The vast majority of what I do read, however, strikes me as predictable, unimaginative, uninspired, and boring. I'm a very tough critic, as my author friends will readily confirm. I usually can't bear what is termed "cutting edge" stories, tales that capitalize on the latest trends and controversial topics. And I care little for stories I have to trudge through only to find, when finished, that I have no idea what, if anything, the damn thing was about. I also pass on excessive slash and gore, whether on paper or in films. I warned you I'm a tough critic!

I want to be thrilled by something imaginative and creative, not just bloody. If I want gruesome, horrendous tales of man's inhumanity to man, all I have to do is read a newspaper or watch the evening news.

Beyond Varley, the contemporary fantasy/horror authors I enjoy include Gary Myers, Colin Wilson, Joe Pulver, Sr., Peter Worthy, W.H. Pugmire, Robert M. Price and, of course, your work. I enjoy these all for different reasons. I liked the early work of King and Rice, but I stopped reading them both quite some time ago.

JT: Your approach to the Mythos is not the Derlethian brand that cleaves close to what Lovecraft has done and which his imitators have done to death. In fact, your work has become its own independent body (much as Pugmire has done with his Sesqua Valley cycle). Do you ever see a day when you will cease using Lovecraftian elements altogether?

SS: Whenever I use Lovecraftian elements, I hail back to the original tales of Lovecraft. Derleth bastardized and imitated Lovecraft's work, just as many others have done since, some with great popular success. If I use a reference to an element of Lovecraft's work, it is true to the original; in other words, I reject all the monsters and books that others have added to what is known as the Mythos. The only exceptions would be a very few additions made during Lovecraft's lifetime by such authors as Clark Ashton Smith and Frank Belnap Long. As an example, the whole bit about the Star Stones warding off the Great Old Ones strikes me as a too-convenient device used by lazy authors when they should be using their imaginations. Lovecraft never said the star stones could be used against the Great Old Ones like a crucifix is used against a vampire. I have far too much respect for Lovecraft to interpret his work in such a mundane manner.

I'm not a strictly Lovecraftian author in the sense that the majority of my tales only reference Lovecraft's creations in passing. I have, however, written sequels to "The Shadow over Innsmouth," "The Outsider" (a prequel, actually), and "The Dunwich Horror." The latter, entitled "The Black Brat of Dunwich," won an online award for best Mythos story of the year a couple years back. To my further delight, S.T. Joshi wrote me that he enjoyed the tale and looked forward to reading more of my work in the future -- now that's a real compliment as he has a reputation for despising contemporary Mythos fiction.

Beyond the sequels and the Jeb and Martin Innsmouth-set tales, however, I try to write text accessible and understandable by a wider audience, including those unfamiliar with Lovecraft's work.

I doubt, however, that I'll ever completely shake the master's influence on the way I write. I certainly relish battling world-threatening monsters and grappling with supernatural forces. I can't even think of a single story I've written that has a "happy ending." It's not easy to devise a plot that deviates wildly from the run-of-the-mill, but whenever I feel my work begins to verge on the predictable, I stop writing, sometimes for weeks or longer, refusing to continue until I come up with something unexpected. The final factor is that the whole thing, wild twists and all, has to come together logically in the end; it's got to be believably written and it's got to make sense. I do my best.

JT: Whom do you count amongst your personal friends, in terms of other writers, artists, and editors? How did you meet? Have you ever met any of them face-to-face?

SS: Well, we've met. Wilum Pugmire, Bob Price, Peter Worthy and Joe Pulver are good friends who are editors and writers; I've met all but Wilum face-to-face (though he's not something one would miss if you passed him on the street!). Daryl Hutchinson and Dan Ross are good artist friends; Dan lives here in San Francisco, and I hope to meet Daryl at this year's NecronomiCon if I can convince him to come out of seclusion long enough. Ken Faig and Hugh Cave are email buddies of mine. I met Ken at one of the NecronomiCon conventions a few years back, along with Will Murray. I've chatted with S.T. Joshi a few times in person and by email. Other email friends are Todd Fischer, Jim Ambuel, and Ron Shiflet.

JT: It seems every writer faces many disappointments - projects that fall through, publications that fold before they can bring out your work. Have you faced these problems?

SS: Certainly. I've had my share of rejections and projects that folded, and I'm sure there will be lots more. My work doesn't go over well with mainstream horror publishers/editors for some reason, even when it isn't a Lovecraftian tale. "Talebones" magazine published a very short story of mine a few years ago, but otherwise it seems I've only been accepted as part of the Lovecraftian genre. Hugh Cave tells me I'll never make any money writing Lovecraftian tales and that I'm definitely ready to break into the mainstream horror market, but I've pretty much had nothing but rejections from mainstream editors so far. I guess I'm counting on my collections to get me some attention, which the first one actually did. Ellen Datlow liked "From Darker Heavens", however, and "Locus" and "Cemetery Dance" gave me very good reviews. And my first collection sold 500 copies in less than a year, which isn't bad for an "unknown" author.

I write a certain way most of the time and definitely have a narrative style. I believe in traditional, old-fashioned, good storytelling that has a beginning, middle and end that flow logically and make sense. So there will probably be a lot more rejections coming my way in the future.

JT: What is your actual writing process like? Do you write every day? In the afternoon or evening? Do you listen to music while you write, and if so, to what?

SS: I write almost exclusively at night when I won't be interrupted. Plus the darkness seems to instill the right mood for writing horror, at least for me. I tune out any background noise such as the TV or music.

I don't write every day and have no set hours or amount of time to write. I can't force it; if I try, I end up writing crap that I'll have to dump or rewrite later. My motto has always been that I never want to see anything in print bearing my name that I find embarrassing, and I'm pleased to say I've lived up to that motto, which is probably why I've made almost no money from writing. My "style" has improved over time, but I am still proud of my early work.

For the most part, the writing process is hell for me. I get the spark of an idea, then, in most cases, I dwell on it day and night for weeks. If the idea involves research, that means reading tons of books that I usually have to buy since the library here sucks. I'm an insomniac, so I am often haunted by plot variations for hours before I fall asleep; at times I dream of sitting at the computer typing different versions of the same scene over and over. So by the time I am ready to put some words on paper, it's frequently like recording memories of events I've personally witnessed or lived through.

Despite the fact that I usually have some idea for an ending when I begin a tale, I almost never use it or, if I do, I really change it. Like I said, I never know how a story will end until I get there.

I get stuck a lot and can't/won't go on until I come up with something I think will add an unexpected "kick" to the plot. Weeks can go by before I come up with a resolution that pleases me. So I don't consider myself nearly as prolific as you seem to think I am.

Of course, I should add that, despite all the agony, I have to write. The stories are in my head and they have to come out or I'd go nuts. Also, I feel really high when I overcome a tough obstacle in a story or a great idea dawns on me. Plus I literally crack myself up at times while penning Jeb and Martin tales. So I can't claim it is all just hard work. Then there's the tremendous relief I feel when a story is completed to my satisfaction.

I have to write continuously without going back for revisions unless I add or alter something along the way that affects the continuity of the earlier text. Once it's all in the computer, I proceed to revise the hell out of the whole thing numerous times, rephrasing nearly every other line and adding logical character reactions I might have overlooked. By the time the story is actually finished, I usually never want to read the thing again!

JT: You didn't write your first story until you were 44, but didn't you feel at least the compulsion to write earlier than that? And why begin at that point? What changed?

SS: Quite honestly, until age 44 I didn't have enough faith in myself or my abilities to even attempt to write, although the urge had always been there. I spent most of my life trying to justify my very existence after my father beat it into me that I was worthless, an "educated fool," and should never have been born. I tried differing avenues to overcome those negative feelings to varying degrees of success. At age 40, I lost my job, my apartment, had to sell off the majority of my belongings, and move in with a friend whose wife was a witch from hell. A very sincere suicide attempt very nearly wrapped things up for me, but I survived despite myself. As I slowly managed to get back on my feet again, I decided I might as well give writing a shot as I couldn't find anything in the bookstores that lived up to my standards. If I couldn't find it, I'd create it.

Since then I've kept at it steadily despite rejections, an AIDS diagnosis, and a recent heart attack. On the positive side, I have had a great deal of encouragement from folks like you, Bob Price, Peter Worthy, Dave Wynn, Wilum Pugmire, Joe Pulver, Sr., Hugh Cave, Ken Faig, Daryl Hutchinson, Dan Ross, and even S.T. Joshi. That's what has kept me writing. I don't think I could stop now if I tried, as my small successes have helped bolster my self-image and, as long as people enjoy what I write, I'll keep doing it.

JT: What future stories are in the works?

SS: My next project is the completion of "The Black Massif," a tribute to Clark Ashton Smith that bears a plot that surely would have upset the ol' boy. It is dedicated to the great Hannes Bok, a great hero of mine in the art world. I began writing this particular tale in 1995. Bob Price and Peter Worthy were both very enthusiastic after reading an incomplete draft, but when I failed to conceive an ending that satisfied me, I put it aside. Peter Worthy is currently reviving the publication of his most excellent Lovecraftian periodical "Al-Azif" later this year, and at his encouragement, I am determined to complete the tale for the first issue. I think I have a good finale for the story now.

I have a few other incomplete tales lying around, including one called "Nether Mind" that I hope to complete in the near future, and I hope to do another Jeb and Martin outing. My tale of the Mayan Kukulcan (Quetzalcoatl, the plumed serpent in Aztec), "The Vision Serpent," is also waiting in the wings; it will probably be of novella length.

And, I simply have to finish the Qom-maq trilogy before Dave Wynn takes me to task over it as he wants to publish it as a novel.

Who knows what's after that, but there'll be brewing as long as I'm still kicking!

JT: Thanks, Stan. Please search the web to read the online fiction of Stanley C. Sargent, and access his listing at the online "Reader's Guide to the Cthulhu Mythos", or visit his message board at: http://www.terrortales.co.uk/terrortalk.htm