Short version

Till Noever: born last century in Germany; now a citizen of both Australia and New Zealand; currently resident in Brisbane, Australia. Married, with two adult daughters. Writes novels and screenplays and makes occasional movies. Has published one novel with someone else, plus several more using POD. Practices swordcraft; derived from traditional Japanese sources.

Longer version

I was born in Germany into a family of visual artists; surrounded by books and no serious TV for years to come. I read like it was going out of fashion by the time I was six, grew up on Grimm’s and Anderson’s fairy tales, Karl May’s adventures, American crime fiction, and German pulp sci-fi-especially the perennial ‘Perry Rhodan’ series, which, in Germany, is still going strong. I also developed a very early preoccupation with the notion of mortality. Personal extinction, decided the pre-teen, is a very bad thing indeed. I still believe this to be true.

After studying astronomy and physics for over a year, but one day I said ‘enough’ and walked out in the middle of a lecture, to apply for an immigration visa to Australia-just about as antipodean to my former life as I could go. I spent some years traveling around Australia and some of South and Central America, before, years later, resuming my studies in Australia, and later New Zealand—but this time with a strong leaning toward the life-sciences. Since then I’ve earned my living mostly with programming and system design in a biomedical context, in places ranging from Australia to Japan, to the UK and to the US; dragging a young family with me all the way here and there.

Writing ‘came’ to me in my very-late teens, but it was unformed and embryonic at best. In partiular, I didn't know then what I know now: That it isn't about 'writing' per se, but about telling stories. The change of languages from German to English held things up as well, and so writing didn’t manage to get a decent foothold until some years later. There was also an incipient family, and things got delayed yet a bit more. Now, decades and more than a dozen novels, stories and screenplays later, with my two daughters grown up, I’m still writing; comfortable finally with the language and the initially very daunting notion of what it means to conjure up and sustain a story.

I don’t think I’m ‘inspired’; but I’ve found that I don’t have to be. I basically write what I would like to read: stories populated with characters I’d like to love or hate; dealing with the basic parameters of the human equation: love, hate, generosity, greed, loyalty, betrayal, hope, fear, life, death, sex, peace, war, violence, forgiveness, retribution, curiosity, misunderstanding, reconciliation, ambition, surrender, cowardice, courage, and whatever else happens to come along. Among all that, good people who are trying to find their way through the minefields of their existence, attempting to eke a meaning from it; while not-so-good people, for reasons perfectly valid to themselves, do their best to put obstacles in the good-folks’ way.

My main ‘literary’ influence is Jack Vance. His Lyonesse trilogy is, to me at least, the most enchanting fantasy ever written; and Night Lamp, a recent novel, is just pure magic. Past influences also include Heinlein, Clarke, Saberhagen, and Asimov. I think that the craft of ‘story’ is also exemplified by the, now rather unfashionable, tales of Edgar Wallace, and especially his Africa stories. I admire the contemporary fantasies of Tim Powers and James P. Blaylock; enjoy well-crafted psychological crime fiction by the likes of Jeffery Deaver; the ascerbic and gritty South-Florida capers of Carl Hiassen and James Hall; as well as the giddy escapist sci-fi of Stephen Gould.

Good fiction—be it written or cinematographic—conveys the truth about the human condition and its complexities better than any learned, ‘popular’, or ‘spiritual’ non-fiction treatise ever could. It does this by the simple expedient of ‘entertain’ and ‘show-don’t-tell’. And it works best, the less pretentious it is. The less the ‘message’ shows, the more readily folks will listen to it, though they may not even be aware that they are listening.

This is why the focus of my fiction is on people, though lurking underneath there's usually a serious framework of ethical and everyday-life issues, questions, suggestions. In Keaen, its sequels in the Tethys series, as well as Seladiënna, Continuity Slip and others still forthcoming, these include my views on history and human destiny and its manipulation by those who would aspire to do so, however beneficent their putative reasons; social versus personal obligations; weighing society’s taboos against personal feelings; coming of age, whether it be in one’s youth or later life; finding one’s destiny; finding meaning; struggling against ethical turpitude; having hope; and staying alive—for only then can there be hope. I'm also preoccupied with the ethical question as to whether the decisions we make in life should be considered as instances, or examples, of 'higher principles' (or maybe 'ideals') in action; or whether 'principles' are, at best, over-simplified descriptors of the infinite variety of the possible. (In other words, was Plato talking nonsense?) I have no answer to this; but it troubles me that the vast majority of humanity appears to have no notion that the question might actually be important.

Story-telling requires, above all, an incredibly high standard of personal integrity. I completely agree with Harlan Ellison's dictum about taking your work seriously, not yourself. If you don't tell stories because you really want—possibly need!—to tell stories, do the world a favor and find something else to do. It took me decades to figure out that it's not about 'art', but just the simple, yet glorious, craft of telling stories to entertain people—and help them live their lives at the same time. Next to soldiering and prostitution, story-telling is probably one of the oldest and most venerable professions extant. We owe it reverence and integrity; instead of using it to seek glory, adulation and wealth. If we, by some great streak of good fortune, happen to find these along the way, so much the better; but let us never forget why we started doing it in the first place. The moment we do, we will lose our way and our sense of purpose.

More, entirely useless, information and personal commentary

I'm fascinated by helicopters. To me, they are the most amazing machines ever invented.

I love fairy tales. That's probably because I grew up with them: the real thing; pure Brothers Grimm, unadulterated by political correctness and cutesy sanitization. Maybe that's why I love Bill Willingham's comic series, Fables; which is like the Brothers Grimm's tales—and every other fable ever concocted, including and freely mixed in with others you wouldn't expect—on speed. I sense the presence of a kindred soul, who obviously loves these stories just as much as I do.

I have become devotee of Joss Whedon's Firefly TV-series and the spin-off movie, Serenity. Wish there were more of this.

Favorites

People: My wife and daughters.

Movies: The Duellists, Blade Runner, The Illusionist, Stardust.

Writers: Jack Vance, Robert Heinlein.

Composers: Hans Zimmer, Jean Sibelius.

Peeves

Any sentence starting with "But I was going to..." or similar fatuosities.
People who refuse to take responsibility for their actions.