Interview with novelist J. A. Boulet

Author J. A. Boulet is helping me kick off a new week by chatting about her coming of age novel, The Strong Amongst Us (Book One of The Olason Chronicles).

During her virtual book tour, J. A. will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble (winner’s choice) gift card to a lucky randomly drawn winner. To be entered for a chance to win, use the form below. To increase your chances of winning, feel free to visit her other tour stops and enter there, too!

Bio:

J. A. Boulet is the passionate author of The Olason Chronicles, a historical saga of immigration, love and perseverance. The Strong Amongst Us Book 1 was released on Amazon in April 2020. She was born and raised in Western Canada as a first generation Canadian from European descent. Her parents landed in St. John’s, NFLD as refugees in 1956, a direct result of the Hungarian Revolution. J. A. Boulet was born many years later, raised in a strong Hungarian culture and proudly calls Canada home to this day. She started writing poetry at the age of five and progressed to short stories and novels. She has a keen interest in history, healing, family bonds and embracing the unknown. J. A Boulet writes with a spine-tingling realism like none other, grabbing your emotions and refusing to let go. The Strong Within Us Book 2 is scheduled to be released on November 11, 2020.

She currently lives in Canada with her two teenaged sons and a crested gecko named Mossio.

What inspired you to write this book?

I came across the immigration story at my cottage near Gimli, Manitoba. I was literally flabbergasted when I learned of the hardships the Icelanders and Natives endured at the hand of the natural environment and the political landscape in 1875. It truly is a story of perseverance beyond anything we’ve experienced in today’s North American world.

A Chapter One preview (excerpt) from The Strong Amongst Us can be found on my website at: https://jaboulet.ca/page/chapter-1-preview-book-one

And

Excerpt from The Strong Amongst Us:
He stared at the beautiful sun, peering over the horizon of gentle waves. The coldness stung, but he embraced it. The lake was much calmer today. He loved it actually; luck was on his side. They would most likely be able to send the funds request of the remaining five-thousand-dollar loan to the Dominion today by boat.

A movement caught his eye. Someone was pulling in a larger boat. He stood and used his hand to shelter from the sun. He squinted into the bright rays. It was just one person, pulling in the boat. He strapped his boots on and scurried over to the dock.

“Hey, do you need a hand?” Nathanael shouted as he approached.

A woman’s voice lilted into the air, gentle but full of strength. “No, I am okay.”

“No, I must! Let me help you,” Nathan insisted.

She looked at him stubbornly, shook her head and relented. “If you must.”

Nath grabbed the rope and helped pull in the boat, anchoring it along the sand. “Is this the boat that will be taking the letter to the Dominion for us today?”

“It is, yes,” she replied. “Sorry for my English. I am still learning.”

“You are native to this land?” Nath asked. “How long have you lived here?”

“Forever,” she laughed. “Ma and Pa were born here, so was I.”

“Interesting,” Nath said. “It is a beautiful land. And a beautiful lake.”

“Yes, Nath, it is,” she replied.

“You remembered my name?”

What exciting story are you working on next?

I am currently finishing the final touches on Book Two of The Olason Chronicles: The Strong Within Us. It is the highly anticipated sequel to Book One.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

When I was five years old, I realized that I had a gift of poetry and literary art. I wrote a poem in Hungarian, my mother language, and was astonished that I received a standing ovation at the local Hungarian Hall. I thought everyone was nuts, lol. I had no idea how I touched people’s hearts.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I began writing full-time in March 2020, focusing on completing Book One. I succeeded and published The Strong Amongst Us on April 29, 2020. I have been writing full-time since. My work day has honestly been chaotic. It is not your regular 9-5 job. There are many times I am awake until 2 am editing or working with my cover artists on technical issues. I am currently working one day per week in legal/accounting to counteract the imbalance of routine in my life.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I write from a male POV and my main character is always male. I am female, lol.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Simple, a fiction novelist. I always knew this was my passion and I will continue until my death. There is no other way for me to experience fulfillment, balance and joy in my life.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

I truly appreciate all my readers and try to talk to as many readers as I can on Twitter, Reddit or Instagram. All my social media links are available in the upper right-hand corner of my website.

Without my amazing readers, my job as a writer is incomplete. Thank you so much for reading my powerful saga of hope and resilience. I hope it changes you as it changed me.

Links:
Website | Amazon US | Twitter | Instagram | YouTube | Reddit | Chapters Indigo | Kobo ($.99 during tour)

Thanks for being a guest today!

My humble thanks to Lisa Haselton for hosting me on your blog. You are an angel!

You’re very welcome.

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Interview with novelist Ben Lyle Bedard

My special guest author today is Ben Lyle Bedard. He’s chatting with me about his coming-of-age post-apocalypse book, The World Without Flags.

Bio:

Born in Buckfield, a rural town in Maine, Ben grew up reading Tolkien, Stephen King, and Charles Dickens. When he went to college at the University of Maine at Farmington, he published his first piece of fiction in the local college journal. While in Buffalo, New York, he met his future wife, Fernanda Glaser, a Fulbright scholar from Chile. To meet the requirements of her scholarship, she had to move back to Chile, and Ben followed her. They were married a year later, under crimson bougainvillea. He is currently living by the Pacific Ocean in La Serena while he researches and plans his next book.

Welcome, Ben. Please tell us about your current release.

The World Without Flags is a stand-alone sequel to The World Without Crows. The book takes place ten years after a plague nearly destroys humanity. The story is of a young woman, Birdie, who must protect her father when the plague mysteriously returns.

What inspired you to write this book?

In the first book, Birdie is a little girl, and I wondered what would happen to her in ten years or so. This book is an answer to that question.

Excerpt The World Without Flags:

There’s not much time to think about the revelation that I haven’t forgotten my own father, that he’s still hidden somewhere in my mind. I don’t have the luxury of time. I can’t just sit around the cabin, thinking, hoping I will remember more of the man I thought I had forgotten. I don’t have time to imagine that there might be more memories inside my head waiting to come out. I don’t have time to ask myself why now? Why are these memories coming back now? I don’t have time for any of that. I have to keep moving.

            I have to get Eric far away from the Homestead, and I have to do it tonight.

            But first I have to spend the day at the Homestead, acting like I’ll be here with them for the rest of my life. Norman and Franky come for me pretty damn early in the morning. It’s hardly dawn when they bang on the door. After a quick breakfast of a dried old apple and a fried egg, I have to follow around Franky like his personal pet, or like, well, like his princess, going from house to house, checking on people, solving problems, holding people’s hands as they cry.

            I’ve been too shocked by the whole resurgence of the Worm and Eric’s horrible transformation to think about anyone else. But as I follow Franky, I see that the damage of the Worm to the Homestead was more than a pile of ashes where our friends used to be. People are barely keeping it together. Some people can’t even get out of bed. Others are walking in some kind of stupor, like zombies. Franky tells them what to do and they do it, more like machines than people. Others throw themselves into work, people like Crystal who basically starts doing the work of like four people in the kitchen. She works without break. Pest too is like that. He works by himself in the field, all day long, as if trying to resurrect his friends by doing what they normally would have done. As if they would live again if he could only do all their work. When we visit him, he looks up, gaunt and filthy, his eyes haunted like a child’s should never be. He doesn’t look at me the whole time. He only takes the water that Franky offers him and drinks until he’s full. Franky claps him manfully on the back. Pest picks up his hoe and goes back to the field. I feel sorry for him, but I can’t think of anything to say. Queen is sitting at the edge of the field, watching Pest protectively as if she can sense the danger around us. I watch Pest attack the earth with his hoe, wishing there was something I could do or say. I never thought I’d feel bad for Pest.

            As we move from place to place, I see that Norman and Franky were right. We need each other. The Homestead is just barely hanging on. If it wasn’t for Crystal, I could easily imagine that everyone would just wander away on their own, in some kind of daze, and the place I grew up in would be no more. I used to think that the Homestead was unbreakable, something as unshakeable as a rock, but now I see it as it probably always was—fragile and precarious. It’s another revelation to me. Like most of the others, it’s discomfiting.

            All day Franky is like the old Franky. He’s kind and gentle and helpful. He walks from house to house and person to person with his tool box in his hand, as if it was like the old days, as if he was coming to ask about some broken hinges and not to make sure you weren’t in the process of hanging yourself or guzzling rat poison. I feel most of my rancor toward him dissipate. Most of it. Sometimes, when we are alone, I can see him looking at me with distrust. And maybe something else, something dark and intense. Although I know the Homestead needs him badly, it’s dangerous for me to stay here. I can feel it. I am more certain than ever that if Franky found Eric, it would be the end of Eric’s life. I have no doubt.

            All day I plan out the evening. I think about Eric up in the Land Rover. I know that I have to leave, and I have to leave tonight. If I stay much longer, I may find it too difficult to leave. I know it’s going to hurt people when I vanish. It will be yet another blow to the Homestead. It’s not really that I am necessary here, but that I am, like Franky and Norman said, a reminder of Eric. I’m like a walking memory of more secure times, like a promise it can be that way again. I’m sorry I can’t be that for them, but I won’t let Eric die. If I stay, someone will eventually find him and, “for the good of the community,” they will kill him.

            They will have to find their own hope.

            I will have to find mine.

What exciting story are you working on next?

I’m taking a break from the apocalyptic genre to write a fantasy book about enslaved people needing to tunnel under a wall to escape and save their families. It’s a prison break out story except it takes place in a world with swords and myths.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Good question. Very young, I suppose, when I used to copy about Oz books on my mother’s typewriter.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I live in Chile and teach English, but on my days off, when I write, I usually start by reading what I had written the previous day, making corrections, thinking about the overall structure, and then continue for that day. I usually stop work for lunch, then hit it again for a couple hours before calling it a day.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I don’t know if it’s interesting, but I don’t like to talk about a book I’m planning or writing. Once I’m done, then I can talk about it.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

According to an old report from my 4H Club, I wanted to be a chef.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

Yes, let’s all be careful out there and keep each other safe, and we’ll get through the COVID-19. This may be a post-apocalyptic novel, but it’s hopeful.

Links:

Website | Amazon | Goodreads

Thanks for being here today!

Interview with writer Patrick Canning

Author Patrick Canning is here today to chat a little bit about his Victorian adventure, coming of age novel, The Colonel and the Bee.

Welcome, Patrick. Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

I’m 32 and live in Los Angeles with my dog, Hank. With my writing, I try to include humor, interesting characters, and unpredictable narratives. Hopefully the reads are fun and speak to some of the deeper truths in life, if not, they make outstanding paperweights.

Please tell us about your current release.

A peculiar explorer and downtrodden acrobat travel the globe on a building-sized hot air balloon, racing against a menagerie of deadly treasure hunters to solve a riddle and locate the precious artifact it promises. 

What inspired you to write this book?

I liked the idea of people flying around in an absurdly big hot air balloon and getting involved in adventures wherever they landed. Hopefully the characters themselves are real to life, dealing with relatable issues, but the nature of their exploits should sometimes stretch what we think is possible. I think the world of The Colonel and the Bee straddles the line between reality and fantasy.

Excerpt from The Colonel and the Bee:

“Flying the Ox is much more akin to playing an instrument than operating a machine. Approach the challenge less formally, do so with confidence, and the craft’s perfect obedience will be your reward.”

I lost sight of the burner strap and by accident pulled a vent on the main balloon. We began to rotate and descend with great rapidity. The Colonel allowed me to find the correct cord on my own, and I did so just in time as the Ox nearly scraped a rolling pasture hill, startling a herd of brown Belgian cows enough to sour their milk.

Taking care to avoid the ripping line, I continued to bring the Ox up, searching for the northwest wind. To my chagrin, I sent us southeast, and it took a deft intervention from the Colonel to set us right. Applying the correct pressure on the correct combination of cords in the correct sequence did indeed give him the appearance of an accomplished maestro.

“Skill comes with practice, and northwest can be elusive. Northeast can be downright tempestuous,” he said as if recalling a talented snooker rival.

I readied another question, but the Colonel anticipated me. He held up a gentle hand to stay the incoming query, motioned with both hands downward, indicating I should relax, then gestured to the edge of the Ox.

What exciting story are you working on next?

A murder mystery that takes place in the Midwest in the 80’s. A middle-aged divorcee is forced to play detective after she moves to a seemingly-normal neighborhood and very weird things start to happen.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

I think it’s still ahead of me, my goal is to make my living from writing.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

I think the best time to write is early in the morning when you’re fresh and productive. Any day jobs and non-writing responsibilities can have the leftovers.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I’m particularly bad with titles for some reason. My process is to list dozens of bad ideas/ask for outside input/eventually give up and pick the least-worst option.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Astronaut! Still do! Unfortunately NASA seems to go for classic good looks and mathematical proficiency in their candidates so I haven’t gotten the call yet.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

I love book recommendations, contact info is on my website if you’d like to share some of your favorite titles!

Links:

Website | Amazon | Goodreads | Instagram

Thanks for being here today, Patrick! Happy writing!

Interview with novelist Jon Reeves

Today’s special guest is author Jon Reeves. We’re chatting about his musical comedic coming-of-age novel, My Name Is Tom.

Bio:

Jon Reeves has an unconditional love for music. His desire to discover new sounds and learn about how musical history has allowed that music to grow has been with him for as long as he can remember. He has met some amazing people and musicians along the way, who have inspired him to use his experiences to write stories to share with others. He believes in growing, emotionally, every day, and attempting to take positives from every situation, while keeping a realistic perspective.

Welcome, Jon. Please tell us about your current release.

Some describe Tom’s obsession with music as “unhealthy.” Growing up in the 1970s and early ‘80s middle England, developing his love for music and building a record collection to rival that of people twice his age, Tom becomes fascinated by the musical cultures of the day.

In 1989, he turns 18 and becomes part of his own culture, the Rave scene, selling all his beloved record collection along the way to fund his new lifestyle. After a while, he decides it is time to regain his lost collection. He makes a list, and at the top is a small list of rarities he regrets selling the most. As he follows the trails of the records he sold, each one reveals alarming information involving a close friend and a group of people he thought he had left behind. But to what extent is Tom involved?

What inspired you to write this book?

My book is very autobiographical, so my own life and the lives of those who have always surrounded me inspired me more than anything. Music is a constant theme through my life and more often than not I will talk about it for several hours before I realise that no one is listening. I listen to albums more than singles, as I see them as a story of where that band were when they wrote it.

Excerpt from My Name Is Tom:

This is from quite early in the book – no spoiler alerts required.

The following Saturday, just as I was about to enter the record shop to spend my wages, I noticed Trevor heading up the street in my direction. I quickly ran into the relative safety of the shop and hid in the funk section. I watched as Trevor walked in. He didn’t look particularly unhappy. He was clearly looking for someone and that someone was likely to be me. I continued to hide amongst the funk but as he moved, I was forced to do the same in order to maintain my cover. By the time he headed for the counter I was deep in the Prog Rock section.

“What you doing down there?” Said the shop keeper “You like Prog yeah?”

“Yeah… I mean, no” I didn’t really know what Prog Rock was but had heard it talked about quite negatively once on a programme about Punk, and I liked that, so I didn’t like Prog.

“I’m hiding from that bloke, I think he wants to punch me”

“What that bloke there?” He said. I confirmed the identity of Trevor.

“That’s Trevor” he said

“I know, I think he wants to punch me. He’s going out with my sister Tracey and I think he might be a bit upset with me”

“Seriously, Trevor and Tracey?” He laughed as he said it, as did I, still crouched down. Trevor heard us and made his way over.

“Trev, this lad thinks you’re gonna punch him. You aint gonna punch him are you?” The shop keep seemed incredibly amused at the idea of me being punched by an oaf twice my size.

“Course I’m not” Trevor said. “We had a minor disagreement outside his sisters bedroom the other day, didn’t we Tim?”

“My names Tom” I said.

“I know” he said laughing uncontrollably to himself. This forced me to stand up and lose my cover, which was pretty much gone anyway. The hostilities seemed to be over.

Trevor put his arm around me and led me to the New Wave section. His attitude towards me was completely different to our first meeting. I felt immediately suspicious of this given his association with my sister but I decided to play along and see what would happen.

He began to talk in depth about his love of music. I was fascinated. He told me how he had seen The Jam play live twice and The Sex Pistols once but that the set was cut short due to a fight in the audience that he was not involved in. But I could tell that he was involved. It was obvious.

It seemed unlikely considering our brief and turbulent history but I was really beginning to like Trevor. However, there was still something in the back of my mind telling me that he was likely to punch me at any minute, but as the minutes passed, it seemed less likely until the point arrived where I didn’t think it at all. It was a relief as he was quite a sizable chap and at the end of the day, also had access to my house.

We conversed about music all the way to the counter. Turned out that he also wasn’t aware of the demise of the Jam and subsequent formation of The Style Council which was strange given the stories he had just told me, you would have thought he would know that. Anyway, we were now friends. I was pleased. He was pretty cool. Well, cooler than me anyway.

At the counter the two of us perused the chart listing for this week. It was time to decide what single to buy. The shop keeper who I had now found out is called Bob, was only too keen to help me select my purchase. He played me several songs based on what he knew about me from our musical discussions so far. I liked most of them but it was ‘The Lovecats’ by The Cure that I was most taken by.

It had entered the charts that week and I knew nothing of them. The record box didn’t contain any songs by them despite Bob informing me that they had been around for a little while now. This made me think for the first time that maybe my cousin wasn’t as up on things as I thought he was. And also made me think that maybe I was.

The front cover was colourful and had the name of the song and the band emblazoned upon it, along with a picture of two cats dancing, brilliant. It was a far cry from the plain blackness of the Speak Like A Child cover which didn’t even feature the name of the song on it. The song itself also had a very different sound to it. The vocal was amazing and scared me a little bit. The overall melody of the song was unmistakably my sort of thing. I bought it, bided farewell to Trevor and Bob who seemed to quite like me, as did I them, and then made my way home to listen.

What exciting story are you working on next?

Currently in the process of publishing the sequel to my novel ‘My Name Is Tom’. Its set around 5 years after Tom finishes and is mostly set in Australia. Also, about three quarters of the way through writing the third book in the trilogy.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Right after I first realised that I wasn’t going to be a musician. So, a few days ago. But tomorrow, I may well write a song that makes me reconsider. And then the next day, I’ll be a writer again. I basically just like being creative.

Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?

During the day I am a Business Analyst for a large construction company here in sunny England, which pays the bills and keeps me off the streets. But - and don’t tell my boss this, although I suspect he already knows - I spend more time writing whilst at work than I spend doing my job. But I’m in charge of my own diary, so as long as the job is done, it doesn’t really matter. But still don’t tell him. The rest of my life is spent with my amazing Zimbabwean wife and looking after my somewhat annoying, octogenarian, quite unwell, parents. I love them really, though.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

My writing style is indicative of the way me and my friends have always talked to each other. We all like to think we are extremely funny, but often people are laughing at us and not with us. But either way, as long as they’re laughing, it’s all good. Also, as is the case in general life for me, I relate everything to music.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Musician – still do. Or a dentist.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

Yes - listen to the Beatles more. But if you already are doing that, listen to Joy Division more and if you’re already doing that, listen to New Order more – I won’t go on, but you get the general idea. And take comfort in your own thoughts.

Links:
Website | Facebook 

Thanks for joining me today, Jon.