Meeting your writing heroes can be a fraught exercise. It’s easy to put people on a pedestal and meet your idea of the presence rather than the person.

Luckily, by the time I crossed paths with the late Ursula K. Le Guin in 2005, she was adroit at managing her public persona. I suspect she was very aware of what happened when she entered fan spaces and how to slip through those expectations.

She’s also the reason why I have a rare advanced bound manuscript of Brandon Sanderson’s Elantris.

How’d I meet her? Here’s the story. 

Las Vegas and fantasy legends

I’ve written before about my early career ambition be a science fiction and fantasy academic. I loved reading and academia, and SFF was my favourite genre. It was a place to get my bearings while I figured out what to do with my life.

While exploring this idea, I attended the Science Fiction Research Association and gave papers (circa 2003-05), including the original paper that became my TedxTalk on why we need new stories about female superheroes. That paper led to my work on The Xenthian Cycle when I realized I wanted to use my writing as a place to address the problems I’d identified.  

Las Vegas’ Tropicana Hotel hosted the 2005 meeting. Ursula LeGuin was the guest of honour and one of the big reasons I was determined to go. I brought copies of A Wizard of Earthsea and Rocannon’s World for her to sign.

Like a lot of Canada over the last few years, California was burning that spring and summer. It made for an apocalyptic atmosphere. Environmental concerns form a large through line in Le Guin’s work, so that also felt on point.

If you’ve never been, Las Vegas a weird place. Beyond the artificial glitz and gambling, the windowless rooms, strange chemical smell and strong scent of wildfire on the wind made for a strange conference.

What was Le Guin like?

Let me be clear: I didn’t know Le Guin as a person. I encountered only her public author persona. So take this all with a grain of salt.

My first impression was of her height. I’m quite tall. Le Guin, in her mid-seventies by this point, was maybe five feet.

But her presence unquestionably made her a giant.

She attended some of the academic talks and sat in the back. The panelists and the audience were definitely aware of her in the room.

At one panel, I remember she listened quietly until they made a point she clearly disagreed with. Le Guin put her hand up, gently deflated the hyperbole, and shifted the discussion to another tangent.

I remember thinking that she wasn’t interested in protecting her position as the most influential author and critic in the room. She struck me as someone accustomed to side-stepping her own reputation. There was a deftness to how she reacted whenever people deferred to her.

Later, when being announced at the dinner in her honour, she made a funny squealing noise and threw her hands in the air. It was playful, a little silly, and another way to demonstrate that she wasn’t there to take herself too seriously.

I spoke briefly with her during the signing session. She was definitely intimidating to my mid-twenties self, but also kind.

I expect you don’t have a career like hers and not know the effect you have on younger readers and writers. I remember her saying she hadn’t seen this edition of Rocannon’s World in a while:

There are so many questions I wish I had asked her now, but our time to speak was limited. And I was too chicken-shit to approach her outside of that opportunity.

2005 was a big year for writing heroes

In that same year, TOR also published Elantris by Brandon Sanderson. He’s a juggernaut now and a writing hero to many SF/F readers. At the time, no one knew who he was or what he would begin in The Cosmere of connected worlds with that first book.

Ahead of publication day, publishers and indies give away advance reader copies (known as ARCs). People from TOR Books (Sanderson’s publisher), were also at this conference. I vaguely remember finding a pile of ARCs in the middle of a table. Maybe at dinner? Maybe on another day?

In my memory, the ARC piles were distributed at the big dinner tables, but I might be wrong about that. Perhaps because it was bright yellow, I picked up Elantris (more pictures here).

I sometimes talk about this experience to people in their twenties when we’re discussing the importance of going to in-person events. Flying to the States is not cheap from Canada, but I’m glad I went (also online attendance options weren’t available back then).

If I hadn’t gone, I never would have met Le Guin, heard her speak, or returned with so many treasured memories.

A writing career for the ages

Le Guin remains a posthumous influence on SF/F and American letters.

She is credited with coining the word ansible, a literary device used by many SF authors to explain communication across the stars. Gender, sexuality, identity and cultural expectations are frequent themes in her work, and she wasn’t afraid to acknowledge her growth or the flaws in her past work.

I was sad when she died in 2018, and glad I contributed to Arwyn Curry’s documentary about her life and work, Worlds of Ursula Le Guin, which was raised nearly $250,000 USD through Kickstarter.

Ursula remains one of my writing heroes. If you’d like suggestions on where to start with her books, visit my Substack for a list.