Interview with fantasy author Erin Jensen

Novelist Erin A. Jensen is here today to kick off a new week. She’s chatting with me about her new contemporary fantasy, Benevolent.

During her virtual book tour, Erin will be awarding a $50 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:

Erin Jensen is the Amazon International bestselling author of The Dream Waters Series. She was awarded the Bronze Medal for fantasy fiction in the 2018 Readers' Favorite international book awards. She also received Honorable Mention for fantasy fiction in the 2018 Writer's Digest self-published e-book awards. A part-time pharmacist and a full-time daydreamer, she resides in upstate New York with her ridiculously supportive husband, two teenage sons--who are both taller than her--and a Yorkshire terrier who thinks he's the family bodyguard.

Welcome, Erin. Please share a little bit about your current release.

Benevolent is the story of Abigail Perkins, a Supernatural fan whose guardian angel appears to her in the likeness of her favorite character from the show, the angel Castiel. The story is told from Abigail’s point of view as she revisits the moments that defined her life while on her deathbed. In her younger years, Abigail was bullied at school and felt pretty isolated at home. She took solace in her friendship with one close friend and in Supernatural, the television show they both loved. In the first memory we see through Abigail’s eyes, her only friend is losing his battle with cancer and the doctors don’t expect him to live through the night. Abigail’s mother won’t take her to the hospital to say goodbye because her friend’s mother wants her to remember him the way he was before he got sick. Abigail cries herself to sleep that night, and she wakes to find the angel from the T.V. show she’s always taken comfort in standing at the foot of her bed. The story goes back and forth between Abigail’s end-of-life moments with her family and her memories of the angel who visited her dreams during the difficult times throughout her life.

What inspired you to write this book?

I was binge-watching Supernatural on Netflix while writing the fourth book in my Dream Waters Series. One night, I sat down to write after watching an episode of the show, but my mind was still stuck on Castiel, the show’s utterly endearing trench-coat-wearing angel. So I pushed Book Four aside and went online to find out whether his character was based on an angel from the Bible, thinking maybe I’d write a book about angels and demons in the future. My search eventually led me to YouTube clips of Misha Collins, the actor who plays Castiel. The more I learned about him and Random Acts — the charity he co-founded — the more intrigued I became. Then I stumbled onto a video from Misha’s panel at a Supernatural convention where he shared that fans often tell him and his co-stars Supernatural was the only that thing kept them going at a time when they considered ending their life. All of those elements I unearthed during my internet search wove together to become the story concept that I was too inspired to hold off on writing. So I took a year off from my series to write Benevolent, knowing I would donate the proceeds to Random Acts.

Excerpt from Benevolent:

I flashed him a sympathetic smile. “What are you thinking?”

“I have never understood why humans are so moved by music,” he muttered as his eyes searched mine.

“Music is the closest thing that we have to magic,” I confided in a reverent whisper, “because it has the power to anchor us to a moment in time.”

His half-smile conveyed a heartwarming mix of curiosity and affection. “How so?”

I felt my face flush a shade darker as I grinned at him. “When we hear a song from our past, it conjures up all the old sensations that we felt when we first heard it.”

He eyed me with a perplexed frown as he took a step toward me. “How can a combination of man-made instruments and human vocal chords wield that sort of power?”

“I can’t explain it with words,” I whispered, “It’s something that you just have to feel.”

He stood there staring at me with that puzzled expression on his face as I stepped closer and carefully inserted the earpiece in my hand into his left ear, so the music connected the two of us, just as surely as the cord connected the earbuds in our ears. “Maybe you’d understand what I mean if you danced to the music.”

“I don’t dance,” he muttered as he watched me begin to sway to the beat.

I smiled at him as I took his hands in mine and moved his arms in time with the music, like a puppeteer pulling a life-sized marionette’s strings. “Anyone can dance. You just have to let go and let the music guide your movements.”

A skeptical frown spread across his face as he watched me, but he let me direct his movements nonetheless. He was stiff and awkward at first but as the music grew louder, he seemed to find the rhythm. “These words are nonsense,” he muttered.

“Shhh,” I whispered, “Don’t think. Just feel.”

He was a remarkably fast learner, but I suppose being on earth since the dawn of time had given him plenty of opportunities to watch humans dance. Once he started to feel the music, he moved with all the grace that you’d imagine an angel would.

“Hey Jude” gradually faded away until there was nothing but silence in our twin earpieces.

We stopped moving and stood there staring at each other while we waited for the next song to guide our movements.

What exciting story are you working on next?

I just finished the manuscript for the fourth book in my Dream Waters Series (the book I set aside to write Benevolent). That book is now in the hands of my beta readers. My next book will be the fifth (and probably the final) book in the series. I’ve also been collaborating with ROC Vox Recording & Production Studio on Benevolent’s audiobook, which I’m narrating. I have to admit narrating is a bit outside my comfort zone, but that’s part of the fun of this whole journey as an author. I love pushing myself to do new things that both excite and slightly terrify me!

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Well, now I would say it was the day I began writing my debut novel in secret. But back then, I didn’t feel qualified to call myself a writer until I received my first review. It was from the Manhattan Book Review. After getting a five-star review from them, I felt confident telling the world that I was a writer.

Do you write full-time? What do you do other than write and how do you find the time to write?

I’m a full-time writer, a mother and a part-time pharmacist. Until recently, I worked four short shifts at the pharmacy and squeezed in my writing time whenever I could, but it was hard for me to shift into the creative mindset after getting out of work. My new manager adjusted my schedule so that I now work two full days at the pharmacy, and I have three weekdays to devote to writing. I was so thankful to him for working his magic that I named a character in my fourth book after him. Nothing says “thank you” quite like the head of a royal dragon family who bears your name!

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Well, I’m a visually-oriented writer. My stories have always played out like movies in my head. When I create a new character, I almost always pick an actual actor to play the part in my head. I keep pictures of those actors on my iPad and I watch YouTube clips from their movies, T.V. shows and interviews so their appearances, voices and mannerisms are fresh in my mind while I write. When I describe a new character, I’m usually looking at a picture of the actor I envision playing him.

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

Honestly, I don’t really recall having a burning desire to take a certain career path as a kid. I think my head was always kind of in the clouds, fantasizing about all sorts of spectacular scenarios. Turns out, other people enjoy the stories I dream up just as much as I do! So I guess in my heart, I’ve always been a storyteller. I just needed to find the confidence to share my stories with the world.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

Just a bit of advice that it took me a long time to figure out: Don’t listen to anyone who tells you that your dream is impossible. If there’s something you feel passionate about doing, get out there and follow your dreams. Life is short and in the end the only things worth regretting are the chances you didn’t take, and the things you left unsaid or undone. Chasing after your dreams might be terrifying, but even if you fail spectacularly you’ll never have to look back on your life and wonder what might have been if you’d been bold enough to take that risk.

Links:

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Thank you for being a guest on my blog!

Absolutely. It was my pleasure. Thanks so much for having me!

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Interview with debut YA fantasy author Christine Grabowski

Novelist Christine Grabowski is in the hot seat today. I’m chatting with her about her new YA contemporary fantasy, Dickensen Academy.

During her virtual book tour, Christine will be awarding a $25 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:

Dickensen Academy is Christine’s debut YA novel. After graduating from the University of Washington, she earned her MBA at the University at Albany. She honed her technical writing skills in marketing and consulting but attributes the creative part of the process to her passion for reading.

When she isn’t reading or writing, Christine can often be found running, skiing, or hiking. She lives in Newcastle, Washington, with her supportive husband, two avid teen readers, and their energetic wheaten terriers.

Welcome, Christine. Please share a little bit about your current release.
Dickensen Academy is a young YA contemporary fantasy that bridges the gap between MG and YA. It is about a fourteen-year-old girl, Autumn, who is invited to a fine arts boarding school in the secluded mountains of the Pacific Northwest. However, she soon realizes the faculty is secretly teaching dream telepathy.

As Autumn uncovers more about the dark side of the high school and struggles with its curriculum, she questions whether Dickensen Academy is where she truly belongs. When tragedy strikes, Autumn must learn to believe in her own power and stand up to her greatest fear or risk having her memories destroyed to protect the school’s secrets.

Although the premise is considered a paranormal or a fantasy, the focus of the book is as much about Autumn’s relationships with her friends and family and her struggles in school and for independence—something many teens can relate to.

What inspired you to write this book?
While I was brainstorming ideas for a story, I began to go through my dreams each morning hoping I’d dream up a fantastic idea like Stephenie Meyer did with Twilight. Although I never dreamed an amazing dream, I did start to question why I remembered some dreams but forgot others. That idea led me to the premise for Dickensen Academy.

Excerpt from Dickensen Academy:

“I feel like there’s something big we don’t know about. Something those students were protecting. I mean, really, why are we here?”

I thought it was just me who was confused. “Well…the recruiters said we’re creative and focused.”

“Yeah, that’s what Principal Locke said too.”

“And we have the right personality.”

Ben looked up at the sky, sighed then turned toward the forest. “What did he say…something about how it will soon become clear why we’re here, and there’s some ultimate purpose for our creativity?”

“I know. That whole creativity part was a bit bizarre.”

He shrugged. “It seems everyone is going with the flow. But I have so many questions.” Then he touched my arm to stop me, so I turned toward him. “I’m thinking they’re isolating us for some special reason,” he admitted in an embarrassed tone.

I tried not to laugh—he was acting paranoid. But I didn’t know Ben well. Maybe he was joking, trying to freak me out. Or was he hitting on me? The flutter in my chest moved to my stomach. I was already anxious about being away from home and whether or not I could hack the academics. I didn’t need to obsess about anything else. But I still had to know about Ben’s dream.

“So…I also had a dream about Dickensen before I accepted the offer.”

Ben’s head snapped toward me. “You did?”

What exciting story are you working on next?
I set aside a Sleep Beauty fairy tale reimagining to write the sequel for Dickensen Academy. Although I wrote it as a standalone, the reviewers really want to see Autumn’s adventures continue as she moves through high school. For Book 2, her sophomore year, I plan to make the book a little darker with the antagonist on campus.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

When I found my book on Amazon and the title became ranked.

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 do write full-time and probably spend close to 40 hours on writing related activities. However, because I am also a mother to a tween, a teen, and two puppies, I end up working in little chunks seven days a week. Some hours are while the kids are at school, but many are in untraditional places such as in my car during soccer practices or tutoring sessions. However, I believe working in small chunks works well for writing. Staring at a screen eight hours in a row, continually coming up with new ideas one after the other seems impossible. For me, I can work on a scene and then brainstorm ways to make it better while I am running errands, walking the puppies, going to the gym, or ubering my kids somewhere. Then when I come back to the computer, I am ready to start typing.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I like to keep track of my increasing (and later decreasing) word counts. When I am drafting, I write the number of new words on a wall calendar at the end of each day. I even give myself stars. I tend to overwrite, so when I’m editing, I get the same satisfaction from cutting words as I work down to an appropriate word count.

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

The idea of being an author always excited me since I was a big reader. However, I hated to write for school so assumed I would never be good at it. Instead, I wanted to be a nurse like my mom had been before I was born.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
I am a huge reader with close to 300 reviews on Goodreads in a variety of genres. I’d love for you to check them out.

Links:
Website | Book Trailer | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Apple | Google Play | Kobo | Goodreads | Bookbub | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter  

Thank you for being a guest on my blog!

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Interview with fantasy author J.D. Horn

Author J. D. Horn is here with me today and we’re chatting about his new sci-fi fantasy, The King of Bones and Ashes (Witches of New Orleans).

Bio:

J.D. Horn, the highly praised and bestselling author of the Witching Savannah series, now debuts a new contemporary fantasy series, Witches of New Orleans. A world traveler and student of French and Russian literature, Horn also has an MBA in international business and formerly held a career as a financial analyst before turning his talent to crafting chilling stories and unforgettable characters. His novels have received global attention and have been translated in more than half a dozen languages. Originally from Tennessee, he currently splits his time between Central Oregon, San Francisco and Palm Springs with his spouse, Rich.

Welcome, J.D. Please tell us about your current release.

My favorite tagline sums up the story to a T: “Desperate witches, old sins, decadence, and murder.”

The King of Bones and Ashes walks the line between dark fantasy and horror. Not quite urban fantasy, even though it features paranormal events taking place in a real setting. Where most urban fantasy would rely on romance, The King of Bones and Ashes turns to examining familial relationships—what builds a strong family, and betrayals which break down the sense of family. This isn’t to say that I have anything against the use of romance—quite the opposite. It’s only that for whatever reason, I tend return to the theme of family. (And, truth be told, I’m not very good at writing romance.)

The King of Bones and Ashes is an ensemble piece, with three main POV characters, written in close third person. I don’t think it’s an “easy” read, but I hope most readers enjoy it. (You’re never going to please everyone.)

What inspired you to write this book?

I’d been contemplating expanding my Witching Savannah series, by focusing on the down-at-the-heel Duvall family of New Orleans—the Taylors’ cousins introduced in The Line—but that didn’t feel like the right story to tell. I strive to ground my fantasy in the real world, and New Orleans bears too many scars, many of them recent. The question rose in my mind that if the magic of fantasy existed in our world, why wouldn’t witches have prevented the devastation of Hurricane Katrina?  The answer that came to me was that they would have, if they were strong enough to do so. From that I arrived at the premise that magic itself could be dying, and magic’s impending demise might drive witches desperate to maintain their status to commit atrocities. And then I had the image of a young girl watching from an upper floor window as the only world she’d known was washed away. That girl became Alice Marin.

Excerpt from The King of Bones and Ashes:

Despite never having breached this space, Alice knew this forlorn corner was where her father had hidden away everything belonging to their mother—at least everything he hadn’t burned. She’d heard Luc and her father fight over the rightful ownership of what was left of their mother’s possessions.

“Behind here,” Luc said, and Hugo helped him push aside a stack of unlabeled cardboard boxes, a whiff of perfume rising from them. Their mother had left before Alice could walk, and memory, that fickle thing, had betrayed her—she wouldn’t even know what her mother had looked like if not for that single image of the Marin family. And yet, this ghost of the once heady fragrance of sweet olive and gardenia came close to conjuring her mother’s face.

Luc paused, seeming to have caught their mother’s scent as well. But then his face hardened, and he whipped away a sheet that lay over a dozen or so canvases, exposing paintings Alice somehow knew to be her mother’s work.

She would have liked to look more closely at each, but Luc flipped through them, slapping one against the other, taking no care to protect their mother’s art. Alice caught a flash of what looked like an unfinished portrait of her grandfather, then Luc discovered the painting he’d been searching for, pulling it out from the others and turning it so she could have a better look. It was of Daniel, all right. The same cap. The same ginger hair poking out from beneath it. The same sweet but sad look in his eyes.

“Our Daniel believes himself to be a ghost, the unsettled spirit of a young Irishman who died during the construction of the New Basin Canal. But Daniel isn’t a ghost. There never was a Daniel.” Luc paused, maybe to give his revelation time to sink in, or maybe just to see if she’d flinch. She didn’t. Luc seemed satisfied with her reaction. “He’s a magic trick,” he carried on, “a servitor spirit our parents conjured up to look after Hugo and me—so they didn’t have to. Nicholas thought they had more important business to attend to, and mother, well, she did whatever he told her to do, like it or not. Until the day she stopped . . .” Luc’s voice trailed off.

They stood for a few moments in total silence. “Mother,” Hugo said, nodding to confirm Luc’s story, “painted this to help Father visualize Daniel. She didn’t want to. Father made her do it.”

Luc looked up from the painting. “That’s the first step, you see.” His voice sounded scratchy now. “You give a servitor form, one that suggests the traits you’d like it to have, and then you imbue—you know what I mean by ‘imbue’?” She shook her head, so he offered a different word. “You fill it with a sense of self. That’s the glue that helps keep the entity intact. It works best if you give the servitor a tragic past, an injustice it can fixate on. Saddling your creation with a dark secret or two, something it’s ashamed of, something it’s afraid you’ll learn, doesn’t hurt either.” Luc’s light brightened, and he held the painting up, offering her a final look at it.

Alice studied the portrait, her mouth open, her heart pounding. Though she wanted to deny it, it all made sense. Whenever she asked Daniel what his childhood had been like, he couldn’t remember the simplest things. Nothing. Not even if he’d gone to school. If he’d liked candy. If he’d had friends. He could rattle off some memories, mostly historical events, but the stories he told were always the same. Word for word. It was like he’d been given a list of facts to memorize. Facts that would fit what he believed to be true about himself, but nothing to show he’d actually had a life before joining their family.

Alice could feel that the Chanticleer Coven’s magic was, at least for now, nearly exhausted, probably only enough left to ensure them safe passage out of the city. That Daniel still held together at all was testament to how deeply he believed the lie of his own existence.

“Nicholas would’ve probably let him fade away by now,” Luc said, “but then you came along. And mother left . . .” He slid the painting back in with the others and then flung the sheet back over them. He was rough when handling the paintings, acting as if they meant nothing to him. But if he didn’t care about them at all, Alice realized, he wouldn’t have bothered to offer even this flimsy protection.

He turned back toward her and Hugo, fixing her with his gaze. “You see, that’s who our father is. This is what he does. He builds people up. Programs them to his liking, and when they stop being of use, he tosses them away without giving them another thought. Eventually you’ll be one of the ones he throws away.” His eyes shifted to Hugo. 
“You both will.”

What exciting story are you working on next?

Right now, I’m writing The Final Days of Magic, the follow-up to The King of Bones and Ashes and The Book of the Unwinding (out June 2018).

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Honestly, six, going on seven published novels later, I still struggle with this. For some reason the word “writer” carries an emotional charge for me, and brings up all types of issues around self-worth. I like to consider myself a storyteller. “Storyteller” takes off some of the pressure, and shuts my inner critic up long enough that I can write.

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?

Yes, I do. My schedule shifts as I go along. When I first start a project, I’m working mostly during the day—just like if I were still in an office job. As I get closer to a deadline, then I may end up working all hours. Hmmm—just like if I were still in an office job.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I talk, sometimes aloud, to my characters, asking them of input.

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

I wanted to be a writer/storyteller.

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

I think I’m breaking some interesting new ground with this new series. I hope readers will find something fresh, challenging, and entertaining in it.

Links:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon

Thanks for joining me today, J.D.!

Interview with fantasy author Martha J Allard

Fantasy author Martha J Allard has stopped by today to talk about her contemporary fantasy, Black Light.

Bio: 

Martha J Allard is a writer of contemporary and dark fantasy. Her short fiction has appeared in magazines like "Talebones" and "Not One of Us." Her story "Dust" won an honorable mention in "Year's Best Science Fiction," 19th edition, edited by Gardener Dozois and her story, "Phase" was nominate for a British Science Fiction Award. They are both collected in the echapbook "Dust and Other Stories." You may also find a selection of her previously published works on Wattpad.com. She was the editor of "Nice Tattoo, the Magazine of Shadow Fiction." Her nonfiction has appeared in the anthologies "Lend the Eye a Terrible Aspect" and "Deaths Garden." Her novel, "Black Light" is a tale of love, sacrifice and rock and roll in the 1980's is out now and available on amazon and bn.com. You can find her on her blog, marthajallard.blogspot.com.

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

Los Angeles, 1983. Trace Dellon knows exactly what he wants: the white heat of the spotlight. When his band Black Light is offered a record deal, Trace grabs for it. He will do anything to make it. Bass player Asia Heyes knows what he wants, too. It’s not fame or the adoration of groupies. It’s Trace. It’s always been Trace. Though it’s been unspoken between them, Trace’s other lovers—his audience—push Asia aside. With the record contract, Albrecht Christian comes into their lives. He has everything but what he needs to live: the energy that runs just under Trace’s skin. When everything crashes with a bullet, they all learn the truth. Rock and roll, like magic, requires both love and sacrifice.

What inspired you to write this book?

When I was a kid, before the internet, things were very different. I grew up in a small town in Michigan. I knew I was queer, and in love with my best friend, and thought I was probably the only one who ever felt that way. Then, one night I saw David Bowie’s video, “I Am A DJ.” In the video, he kisses a woman, and then a man (later this was cut out before aired on MTV). At first I was shocked, then I felt everything in my life click. I wasn’t alone. 

Black Light was very nearly the first thing I ever tried to write, and it does owe a lot to David Bowie’s music. I started it because it was the book I wanted to read back then. I put it away for decades, but the characters never left my head. Trace and Asia were always in the shadows, waiting for the rest of their story. Bowie’s death, coming less than six months after my father’s hit me with surprising force. I pulled Black Light out because I couldn’t concentrate on much else. I began to revise without even meaning to. It’s still a book about music, but it’s also about how important it is to become the person you really are, and learning to step out of the shadows. 

Excerpt from Black Light:

1983, Los Angeles 

Trace Dellon stands in the wings backstage at the Refugee Club, a narrow shadow. He lights a cigarette, shielding the flame with his hand to protect the dark. In the full house beyond the curtain, he counts dozens of reflections of himself. Boys or girls, hair cut spiky with spaghetti-o colored dye-jobs, all waiting for him. He exhales a lungful of smoke. Every night there’s more, but it’s not enough, not yet. 

“Trace.” Asia Heyes, Black Light's bass player calls him from the doorway to the basement dressing room the band shares. “Weird’s real sick.”

“No he’s not.” Trace turns.

“Yeah. He is. He’s not gonna be able to play tonight. He should be--”

“He should be shootin’ the hell up, Asia. He’s the guitar player, and this isn’t fuckin’ Charity’s Place back in Ann Arbor anymore. It’s the Refugee Club where somebody important could be listening.” Trace moves farther backstage, past Asia, down the rickety stairs. He smells it, bitter on the air before he hits the bottom step. Then he hears Weird choking.

Asia is right behind, protesting. “He’s almost clean. Don’t fuck it up for him.”

Trace doesn’t answer. Instead of going down the short hallway to the bathroom, he heads into the dressing room. Weird’s guitar case is propped against the broken down leather couch that sags in one corner. Trace flips it open. Tucked inside, along with the instrument are Weird’s works, just like Trace knew they would be. He grabs the pouch and steps around Asia to cross the hall. Without knocking, Trace opens the bathroom door.

It’s a re-modeled storage closet, too small for three people. Tommi, their drummer, hovers outside, worry lining his pretty face. 

Weird’s on the floor, back against the wall, arm draped around the toilet seat, like it’s his best friend. In the buzzing fluorescent light, he looks ancient, every one of his thirty-seven years are etched into his face. His skin is the color of spoiled milk. His long red-blond hair is stringy with sweat. He wipes a hand over his beard, looks up at Trace through slitted eyes and grins. “Hey Dellon, you gonna hold my hair while I puke some more?”

“Are you’re gonna? I mean, you are gonna be okay, aren’t you?” Tommi’s face turns even paler as he squeezes himself against the sink to let Trace all the way in.

“Oh sure.” Weird groans, sucks in some of the sour air. “Yeah, I’m great.” Then he looks up at Trace again. “Gimme my damn smack.”

“No.” Tommi gasps. “No, Weird.”

Weird stares hard at Trace. “Gimme m’ works, Dellon. Neither one of them will.”

Trace nods. He hands the pouch over and turns away. 

Asia is leaning against the hand railing of the stairs, shaking his head as Trace exits the bathroom. “So let him go back to killin’ himself?”

“You think he can play clean, Asia?” Trace says. “You gonna take that all away from him?”

 “That’s such bullshit.” Asia laughs. “You don’t even care as long as you get what you want and that’s all that matters.”

Trace looks into Asia’s rust-green eyes and takes a breath. All he ever gets from Asia anymore is anger and disappointment. Trace won't apologize for telling the truth. He reaches up to brush a stray lock of wavy ginger hair back from his face, but Asia flinches.

 “Whatever you need to think.” Trace says softly. “It’s done. Get ready for the show.”

He goes back upstairs without waiting for Asia’s answer.

Asia shakes it off. He moves to stand in the doorway. “Wait, Weird. I can play your shit tonight and Trace can play bass.”

Weird is up, unsteadily leaning against the sink, already cooking his shit, Tommi looking on, stricken. Weird snickers. “How you think he’s gonna do that? faggot can’t even walk and chew gum.”

“I don’t care.” Asia knows he’s pleading. He wants to knock the smack out of Weird's hand, shake him. Don't make Trace right, he wants to say. But he goes back to begging instead. “We can do it.”

“Asia, look, Dellon’s a bastard, but he’s right.” Weird says. His hands don’t shake at all when he pulls the plunger back on his syringe to suck the liquefied drug up. “You think that bein’ a junkie’s ruinin’ my life, right? That I'm tryin' to kill myself? See, no, because it’s all I am, Asia. No junk, no music. I'm not giving that up.”

Weird is tying a piece of tubing around his upper arm. He looks from Asia to Tommi. “You guys got shit to do before we go on, right?”

Not really, Asia thinks, but feels himself give in. He turns away and Tommi follows him.

What exciting story are you working on next?

I am working on a novel called, at the moment, The Night Was Not. It’s a Neo-Victorian story about an airship Captain, grounded in the one place he never wanted to come back to, his home town. He lands to investigate the death of a friend, but is drawn into the dark world of alchemy and freak shows. 

When did you first consider yourself a writer?

Minutes after I walked out of Star Wars as a teenager. I walked across the mall hall to by a notebook and a pen.

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 have a day job. I work at a bookstore. I love being around books, but I spend every minute of every day that I’m not writing trying to figure out when I can write. 

Right now it’s days off or, middle of the night. Waiting in line at the store. I’m not a very fast writer, so any time I can move a story forward is a good day for me. 

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

I’m pretty odd about my notebooks. Spiral bound. They can’t be too thick because my hand falls off the bottom of the page. They can’t have margins….Oh, and they have to fit in my bag. And pens. Yeah, use a fountain pen, and I love certain color inks. I use purple ink as my every day color, and pink for sex…. Also gray for ghosts. Black Light was notebooks full of pink and grey. 

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

I’m not making this up, but a writer. I mean, briefly in high school, what I really wanted to be was a personal assistant to a rock star. But eventually I realized that you needed to talk to people to do that, so I went back to writer. 

Anything additional you want to share with the readers?

If you’re a reader, thank you! It’s always scary to share something you’ve kept to yourself for so long. But, by and large, you’ve all made it so easy. And if you’re also a writer, don’t stop. That’s the lesson I’ve learned. As my friend Loren Rhoads told me recently, “You’re the only one who can write your story.” And we need all the stories we can get.

Links:

Website | Amazon

Thanks for being a guest today, Martha!