Black and white through the writing ages
Every now and again I remember: I have a new book coming out in January! And then I have to go look at the cover.
She Is Here by Nicola Griffith (PM Press, 27 January, 2026). Photo of the author by Kelley Eskridge.And every time I see that photo I smile—it’s one of those absolutely-unaware-of-the-camera pictures of me that I wish I had more of. PM Press had asked for something in black and white, unusual, and ‘not like an author photo’. I was familiar with the Outspoken Author series design aesthetic, so I went on a hunt through my files for B&W shots that might fit. I assumed they’d want ones that most clearly resembled the over-60 writer I am now, so I sent them a handful taken from the Hild era onwards. But it turned out they didn’t like those: I looked too writerly and they wanted something less formal/more arresting. So then I dug a bit deeper and came up with stuff going back to age 20—at least those that I like, which tend to be unposed1, unselfconscious pictures taken when I was not aware of the camera, whether laughing or drinking, performing or lost in my inner thoughts.
The early ones—right through to the one shot at Whitby—were taken with old school analogue cameras loaded with black and white film. The later ones were colour and digital but, in my opinion, look better as black and white. I thought you might like to see them, in chronological order, starting when I’m 20 and moving through to 63.
Age 20, in Pearson Park, Hull. Photo by Heidi Griffiths (no relation).
Age 21, rehearsing with the band. Photo by Heidi G or maybe Jan Gordon.
22, hungover after an epic night. Photograph by Heidi G.
24, playing guitar at home in Hull. Photo by Carol Holmes
27, playing beer can percussion at Clarion in East Lansing. Photo by Mark Tiedemann
30, at Whitby Abbey. Photo by Kelley Eskridge
43 (?), at an awards ceremony. Photo by Mark T
45, drinking Guinness at Murphy’s pub in Wallingford for a calendar photoshoot to raise money for the Multiple Sclerosis Association. Photographer, er, I don’t remember.
53, at a local SFWA reading. Photo—I think—by Jennifer Durham
54, a reading for one of the multiple HILD tours. Photo by Jennifer D
54, another HILD reading. Photo by Jennifer D.
58, signing books after winning my second Washington State Book Award. Photo by Kelley E
61, me and Charlie Bean one cold but lovely winter morning. Photo by Kelley E
63, expounding on the Queer Medieval at Town Hall Seattle. Photo by Libby Lewis
63, at World Fantasy mass signing. Photo by either Mark T or Kelley EThe PM Press folks decided that the one taken at Whitby was the one. I thought that was a bit odd. I mean, why choose a photo of a 30 year-old author for a book of collected works by someone who is now 65? I couldn’t quite make it make sense. That is, until I considered the actual contents of the book, which is 150 pages long, the majority of which (86 pages) is fiction. Let me explain.
The 39-page section of nonfiction begins with the oldest piece, a blog post, “A Writer’s Manifesto.” That’s followed by a 2018 Op-Ed I did for the New York Times, then three essays—two of which are from a planned series of epistolary criticism—all written around the same time (2014 and 2015) and published (and republished) in various venues since. There are three drawings, all made in 2024 (none previously published; none of my drawings have been published, except a handful on Patreon). Then four poems, mostly written in my 40s and 50s (none previously published; none of my poetry has ever been published, except a few on Patreon). But the meat of the matter, the bulk of the book, is fiction—and that, interestingly, is in ascending word length and (mostly) reverse chronological order: the earlier I wrote it, the longer it is.
It starts with the shortest and most recently published story, “Glimmer” (2018; 1,000 words; SF). Then “Cold Wind” (2014; 3,600 words; Dark Fantasy). Followed by “Down the Path of the Sun” (4,400 words; 1990; post-apocalyptic SF). Although that last wasn’t published until I was 29 it was actually the first real short story I finished (since I was a fifteen-year old schoolgirl), written when, at aged 25, I decided to teach myself to write with short fiction. It was one of two I used as my submission pieces for Clarion. (The other was “Mirrors and Burnstone—not included in this collection—which just as I turned 28 ended up being my first professionally published piece, in Interzone.) These three are probably my least anthologised stories—in fact, I think “Glimmer” might be the only fiction I’ve ever published that hasn’t been either reprinted (until now) and/or translated into a variety of languages.2
But the biggest thing in the whole book, fully half the page count (17,750 words and 75 pages) is a previously-unpublished novella, “Many Things in Dumnet.” I wrote it in 1989, when I was either 28 or 29, not long before I moved from the UK to the US. It was a commissioned work-for-hire (originally called “Blood and Earth”) for which I was well paid, but when that project collapsed I fought for and got the rights back.3 I made one half-hearted effort in the early 90s to get it published but then withdrew it—because I’d started to see it as part of a larger work: an alt-history/sfnal apocalypse/virus-as-magic novel.4
I rewrote the novella to fit that concept at which point it seemed to me that, shorn of its surrounding-novel concept*, it no longer really made sense as a standalone.
So why is it included in She Is Here? Because, er, well, I made a mistake :)
When Nisi Shawl, the series co-editor, asked me to send initial selections of nonfiction, poetry, and short fiction, I combed through my work and divided each category into three folders: Yes, Maybe, and Hell No. She wanted me to send her about 3 times the amount of work that might end up in the finished volume to give her a wide pool from which to draw and so shape the collection. Given that she didn’t want fiction or nonfiction that had been too widely anthologised, translated, and/or reprinted, and given that I have no notion of myself as poet and am incompetent to judge, I decided to send both the Yes and Maybe folders for all three categories. And while I sent her the right sets (Y, M) of poems and essays, by mistake I sent her all three sets (Y, M, HN) of fiction. And because no two editor’s tastes are alike, Nisi chose the two shortest from Y, a medium-length from M…and the longest HN, the novella. (Hell No not because I thought it badly written but because of * above.)
I baulked. No, I said. This is meant to be a career-spanning retrospective—and what I write best, the short fiction that’s most representative of me, is supercool sex-and-tech SF and sex-and-shivers Dark Fantasy! To me, this novella, stripped of its sfnal alt-history context, reads as an old-school, music-as-magic secondary world fantasy. Sure, but I really like it! she said. But there’s no sex! I said. So what? she said. To which I had no real answer. Plus, look, she said. The book will get more attention if it includes something never before published. I pointed out that the poems were unpublished, the interview was unpublished, and the drawings were unpublished. Sure, she said again. But I really love this story, I really want it, and I mean to have it!
I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that for this entire collection—the nonfiction, the fiction, even the poetry—Nisi had consistently chosen pieces with no sex in them. I wasn’t sure that felt entirely true to me. In particular the fiction she chose feels more gentle and lonely than both my usual short work and my novels: very different to the sharp-edged crime fiction of Aud, the Early Medieval visceral embodiment of the Hild sequence, the seamy dark corners of Slow River, or molten rage of So Lucky.5
But in the end, between them Nisi and Kelley persuaded me that, as a collection—the combination of drawings and interview, poems and essays, as well as the fiction—it works, and more to the point highlights different emotional facets of my creative production. The poems are raw, the nonfiction stern, and the drawings pure, joyful whimsy. So, well, perhaps they have a point: perhaps the more gentle fiction turns She Is Here into a well-rounded showcase of who I am as a creator, not just a writer of fiction: who I am, period.
And of course, now finally seeing the collection typeset and proof-read, and being able to recognise that well over half the book is fiction written before that cover photo of 30-year-old me was even taken, perhaps PM Press chose the right picture after all: the young Nicola standing in a place steeped in the Long Ago dreaming of her own future reworking the past to a purpose.
But don’t take my word for it. You’ll be able to judge for yourself on January 27th. You can pre-order the finished book and book professionals may request a digital galley.
Pre-Order
US:
Bookshop.org
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Amazon
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Barnes and Noble
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PM Press
UK:
Amazon
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Waterstones
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Blackwells
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WH Smith
︎Ooops, spoke too soon. I just agreed for it to be translated into German for an anthology.
︎Note to all creators, whether newbie or old-timer: always get your rights back!
︎I still do. Every now and again I go write a bit, or rewrite another bit, or make some notes…
︎I think you could argue there’s a kinship with Ammonite, though.
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