Q&A: Stina Leicht, Author of ‘Persephone Station

Article contributed by Alexandra Nae

Persephone Station has been out for a few days and we had the pleasure of chatting to Hugo award–nominated author Stina Leicht! Read on to know more about Stina, her latest release Persephone Station, the research involved in it, writing queer characters, and her upcoming projects.

Hi Stina, welcome! Please tell us about yourself!

Like most writers, I’ve wanted to be an author since I was in middle school. My father managed to talk me out of it by the time I hit high school because “writer” wasn’t one of the things he felt women could be. Even so, I wanted to do something creative. Therefore, my degree is in computer animation, but I’m a much better writer than I was a computer animator.

Other than writing, I enjoy reading fiction and nonfiction, knitting, watercolor painting, watching movies, and playing Dungeons and Dragons. I like muscle cars. I used to have a 1967 Mustang with a 302 v8 engine in it named Lasher. (Lasher was a franken-stang. The 302 didn’t come out until 1968.) I used to work on it myself, but life got hectic, and I needed something reliable. So, I switched to a Miata MX-5. I love driving with the top down. I also took rally racing lessons while doing research for Of Blood and Honey. I used to fence (foil, epee, saber, and Kendo) and enjoy studying martial arts. But I can’t do that any longer because well… the pandemic.

Persephone Station is out now. What can the readers expect?

An old school SF action/adventure starring women and nonbinary characters set on a foreign world and on a space station. Think Magnificent Seven meets Alien and Cowboy Bebop.

What was your initial inspiration for Persephone Station?

When the 2016 remake of Magnificent Seven premiered, the previews made it seem like it had been updated into something more inclusive. Still, there were no women, and I had trouble believing that in 2016 films were being made with no actresses in significant roles or at all—let alone other genders. So, I wrote a novel with no straight cis men in significant roles. Fair is fair, after all.

I found the world-building in Persephone Station so intricate and expansive. How did you go about creating this world?

Settings contribute to the overall story. They can set the mood, and they can be characters, too. In the case of Persephone (the planet), I wanted an environment that reflected what it was like to live in a world that was not designed for you—that may even be hostile toward you. Thus, the weather is violent and threatening. There are moments of sunshine and good weather, but intense storms inevitably loom in the near future. Without revealing too much, I kind of love the idea of passive-aggressiveness taking a physical form.

As for the rest of the human inhabited galaxy, I thought it’d be nice to see a future where certain differences were completely accepted. That anyone could be anything they wanted. I’m a big Star Trek fan. Universal Income, free education, free healthcare, equal rights for all… these are things I wanted in my future universe. I wanted to create a culture where no one had to prove their worthiness. At the same time, even a quasi-utopia is going to have its problems just because… well… humans. And holy crap, a galaxy-sized governmental entity would be huge and possibly more than a bit unwieldy. Inequities would slip in. So, I like the idea of a benign entity helping humanity along behind the scenes.

The Artificial Intelligence aspects of the story and their effects on the fictional universe were a lot of fun to play with.

As I see it, the only way we’ll be able to grow out beyond our own planet is if humanity unites together and pools resources. It’s how civilization advances. An “Every person for themselves” philosophy doesn’t build anything because capitalism is ultimately a predatory system. We need a structure that looks out after everyone including those who can’t take care of themselves. (Yes. I suppose that makes me an enormous hippie. There are worse things.) But there’s a pragmatic side to that kind of future.

If you’ve ever read actual accounts of the American frontier, you’d know that the “rugged individualist” ideal is a myth at best and a harmful lie at worst. The only reason people survive in circumstances like the frontier is by helping one another. There aren’t enough hours in the day to bake bread, fish or hunt, make clothing, and farm—let alone mill grain or take care of domesticated animals. Baking bread alone takes hours. Have you tried to spin yarn? Or knit a sweater? Quilt a blanket? You can’t just go to a store and buy it. You’re all alone. That’s why dividing tasks among various people is so practical. I’m not even going to bring up dentistry, illness, or accidental injury. There’s no other way. Sorry, Mr. Heinlein, specialization is necessary.

And that’s talking about an environment that contains oxygen, gravity, water, and the other basic building blocks of what humans require to exist.

Speaking of the American frontier, are you familiar with Dodge City by Tom Clavin? The Dead Line that I created for West Brynner was an actual boundary on the edge of Dodge City. The law didn’t venture beyond the Dead Line. Ever. I enjoy swiping historical details for my work. It makes settings that much more interesting. There are even tidbits I incorporated from the five years of Northern Irish research for my previous novels.

Without revealing too much, I’m going to say that the plot itself involved a lot of science as well. Did you have to do any research for it?

Absolutely. Getting as many details right as possible makes the story feel more real. And hey, if the reader learns something new in the process, that’s a bonus. Since this was my first SF novel the amount of research I felt I should do was overwhelming. The only way I could get past that was to take it one bite at a time. So, I focused on one area to start with: Artificial General Intelligence (which is distinct from Artificial Intelligence by the way). I read a couple of books and listened to podcasts produced by MIT to get comfortable. Then, I expanded into learning what it was like to travel in space—or at least transition from Earth’s atmosphere to space. Memoirs are extremely useful, by the way. I’m a big believer in experience as research. If you can afford to travel, do. If you have a friend who owns a gun and you write anything involving guns—have them take you to a gun range and fire it once or twice. (I don’t care for guns, but I have fired several.) Ride a horse, if you’re going to write about them. Fire a bow. Cook, dance, fence—do everything you can and observe the experience. When you can’t do the thing due to financial reasons or shouldn’t (due to the danger or legality or the fact that time travel isn’t a thing), then memoirs are your best friend. Learn from other people’s experiences. They almost always provide details you wouldn’t know any other way.

I love Captain de la Reza’s crew! How did you go about creating this ragtag of a group?

This is the part where I tell you I have biases, and I believe in making one’s weaknesses one’s strengths. I used to only write about men, you see. Once I admitted this was a problem, I faced it head-on. But in order to get past those biases—internal misogyny is a hell of a thing, I yoinked characteristics from some of my favorite cis male characters. I borrowed other qualities from women and other people I know, too, because I absolutely wanted the individual crew members to be their gender whatever that was—not cis men stuffed in women and nonbinary suits. You know what I mean? You can always tell when an author has gender-flipped a character and not given it much thought beyond that. Gender, ethnic background, socioeconomic background, ableness, and religion all have distinct connotations. You have to be careful. You must pay attention. If you don’t, you end up writing badly. How do I know? I’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way. And I’ve no doubt I made some with this novel, too. I am learning.

Above all, characters should be interesting people. Readers are going to spend a lot of time with them—at least one hopes. So, I give them interests and hobbies… favorite ice cream flavors, pets. Do they like coffee or tea? Do they like art? Are they tidy or messy? Introvert? Extrovert? Sense of humor? How do they handle stress? (I’ve a thing for female mechanics by the way. When I was ten, I wanted to be a pit mechanic at a race track.) It’s the little details that flesh characters out.

I also thought a lot about my favorite male friendships: Kirk and Spock, Luke and Han, Murtaugh and Riggs (Lethal Weapon), Fezzik and Inigo, Frodo and Sam, Woody and Buzz, Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday—friendships between women and other genders aren’t depicted that way at all.

Lastly, I adore stories about found families. A good friend of mine uses the expression “the Island of Misfit Toys” to describe our friend group. It works. Maybe, it takes a misfit to write about misfits?

Persephone Station for me was so queer and I loved it. Do you think it’s high time that we see more wholesome queer rep in SFF?

I kind of love this question. I’m honestly flattered that you see my novel that way because I didn’t. I was merely trying to write a story that featured diverse representation where the characters’ sexual orientations weren’t the main feature of the story.

It’s like I said: options are important.

When I write characters that aren’t like me—and, let’s face it, that’s a big part of the SF/F writer gig—I tend to apply what I call the “Uhura Rule.” Do you know the story about how Nichelle Nichols almost quit Star Trek? She actually went so far as to turn in her resignation. Gene Rodenberry tried to talk her out of it but couldn’t. Soon after, she met Martin Luther King, Jr., at a party. It turned out that King was a huge fan. He told her that her role as Uhura was extremely important. “But I don’t do anything,” she said. “Anybody could do what I do.” King said, “That’s the point. Black girls see you doing what anyone else can do.” I’m paraphrasing, of course. But that’s the gist. She went to see Rodenberry the next day. He smiled, pulled her letter out of his desk drawer, and tore it up.

This is how I stay in my lane. I write about these characters like they’re anyone else. But there’s a trick to it. As a writer, I have to drop in details that signal to the reader that although this character is doing things anyone can do, they still have a distinct cultural background—whether that’s as a pansexual Black woman from Nigeria or an Ace woman of mixed race. Now, if you add in that I didn’t want to focus on romance… well, I guess that’s how you end up with “wholesome” queer representation.

I’m sorry. The word “wholesome” is cracking me up because every time I think of that word I remember all the violence and cursing in the novel. For that reason, I wonder if it is all that wholesome? But you know what? It’s important that heterosexuals see homosexuals as homosexuals or pansexuals or bisexuals and be comfortable with that. Thus, the emphasis on sex. That’s understandable. But if that’s the only way LBGTQ+ people are presented, then we risk fetishizing the community. Ultimately, LGBTQ+ folks should be seen as whole people. No one is just their age or gender or sexuality or ethnic background or able-ness or religion or class. All human beings are an intersection of those things.

Everyone deserves to be wholly themselves, doing things that they feel passionate about. We can’t be what we can’t imagine.

Lastly, I often laugh at people who get caught up in that whole “check box diversity” argument. If you can’t write about a group of diverse people and make it seem natural for them to be who they are, then you’re kind of a shitty writer. And, if you can only see “diversity check boxes” when you read about a diverse group of people, then maybe you’re a shitty human being.

What’s next for you? Do you have any upcoming projects after Persephone Station? Please tell us about it!

Currently, I’m working on a novel titled Loki’s Ring. I’m a little reluctant to talk about it because it’s early days yet–not because if I talk about it I can’t write or whatever. It’s because I’m an organic writer and the sucker is still morphing into whatever it’s going to be. I don’t want to promise something and then deliver something else. Story brain has to story brain, you know? However, the starter idea is that it’ll be about a group of older women (trans women are women) and other genders who are First Responder types, and there’s this ringworld called Loki’s Ring. It’s off-limits because it’s inhabited by aliens that human beings can’t communicate with, and, every time they try, they end up dead. Subsequently, some jackass decides they want to steal valuables from that world. And then everything goes horribly awry. Think gender-flipped A Team meets Apollo 13 and Hellfighters (a terrible, terrible John Wayne movie).

There are plans for more short stories in 2021, too. (I have a novelette called Forgiveness Is Warm Like a Tear on a Cheek in the anthology Evil in Technicolor.) I wrote and sold three in 2020, and I definitely want to write more.

Zeen is a next generation WordPress theme. It’s powerful, beautifully designed and comes with everything you need to engage your visitors and increase conversions.