Sarah Zama's Blog, page 66

Thursday Quotables – The Prisoner

I waited a long while, and that dizzy sense of time working in a circle took me, the circles getting larger and larger, like eddies in a pool, again. At last he looked up and rested his eyes beseechingly on me as if imploring me to be patient; I understood; I had conquered the dark – he had to break through the silence – I knew it was very hard.

I saw his lips move and at last I heard him – a thin, weak whisper came to me: “Listen – listen – for the love of God!”

I looked at him, waiting; I didn’t speak; it would have scared him. He leaned forward, swaying, his eyes fixed, not on mine, but on some awful vision of their own; the eyes of a soul in purgatory, glazed with pain.

“Listen, listen!” I heard, “the truth! You must tell it – it must be remembered; it must be written down!”

“I will tell it,” I said, very gently, “I will tell it if I live.”

“Live, live, and tell it!” he said, moaningly and then, then he began. I can’t repeat his words, all broken, shuddering phrases; he talked as if to himself only – I’ll remember as best I can.

The Prisoner by Dorothy Macardle is a short story of 1924 included in the collection Twelve Irish Ghost Stories, and let me tell you, is beseeching. It’s the story of a prisoner of Kilmainham Gaol doing a hunger strike in a punishment cell, all alone in the night. The feelings of this man are so strong, so real, that I nearly experienced them. His thoughts do go in circle and became weird and when the ghost appears it feels absolutely normal and believable.

The ghost is a tormented soul and he echoes the same feelings as the protagonist, to some extent. It is really a very classic ghost story of a soul that wants to be heard beyond his death, but what really did the story for me are the strong feelings, the vivid descriptions, not only of the place but also of the interaction between the man and the ghost.

I really really enjoyed it.

——————————————————————————

In addition to be part of the Thursday Quotables meme at Bookshelf Fantasies, which I often take part to, this post is also part of theReading Ireland Month.

The post Thursday Quotables – The Prisoner appeared first on The Old Shelter.

Thursday Quotables – The Prisoner

I waited a long while, and that dizzy sense of time working in a circle took me, the circles getting larger and larger, like eddies in a pool, again. At last he looked up and rested his eyes beseechingly on me as if imploring me to be patient; I understood; I had conquered the dark – he had to break through the silence – I knew it was very hard.

I saw his lips move and at last I heard him – a thin, weak whisper came to me: “Listen – listen – for the love of God!”

I looked at him, waiting; I didn’t speak; it would have scared him. He leaned forward, swaying, his eyes fixed, not on mine, but on some awful vision of their own; the eyes of a soul in purgatory, glazed with pain.

“Listen, listen!” I heard, “the truth! You must tell it – it must be remembered; it must be written down!”

“I will tell it,” I said, very gently, “I will tell it if I live.”

“Live, live, and tell it!” he said, moaningly and then, then he began. I can’t repeat his words, all broken, shuddering phrases; he talked as if to himself only – I’ll remember as best I can.

The Prisoner by Dorothy Macardle is a short story of 1924 included in the collection Twelve Irish Ghost Stories, and let me tell you, is beseeching. It’s the story of a prisoner of Kilmainham Gaol doing a hunger strike in a punishment cell, all alone in the night. The feelings of this man are so strong, so real, that I nearly experienced them. His thoughts do go in circle and became weird and when the ghost appears it feels absolutely normal and believable.

The ghost is a tormented soul and he echoes the same feelings as the protagonist, to some extent. It is really a very classic ghost story of a soul that wants to be heard beyond his death, but what really did the story for me are the strong feelings, the vivid descriptions, not only of the place but also of the interaction between the man and the ghost.

I really really enjoyed it.

——————————————————————————

In addition to be part of the Thursday Quotables meme at Bookshelf Fantasies, which I often take part to, this post is also part of theReading Ireland Month.

The post Thursday Quotables – The Prisoner appeared first on The Old Shelter.

“Give in to the Feeling” goes live!

 

Today’s the day!

Yes, finally it has come. It’s been a long journey and I hope it will still be a long one (paved with success, you know, I’m stating it, just in case).

Honestly, I don’t know how I feel. Having a story published under my name has been a dream I’ve pursued for so many years that now I really don’t know how I feel. And I would have never imagined it would happen this way… I mean, up to a few years ago, this would have never been even possible.

So, go into the world, my little story. I’ve given you everything I could, but I’m confident that you have a chance. I’ll look after you, don’t worry.

I know you are eager to know where to get it, all you guys here assembled (ehm… helloooo! Anybody there???) Links are below.

So… now I’m getting seriously nervous!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Smashwords | Barnes&Nobles | Kobo

And many other online retailers

Yes, I know Kindle isn’t there. I’m not offering the book through Amazon at the moment. But don’t worry, you Kindle lovers! Smashwords offers the possibility to download the book in many different formats, including Kindle’s .mobi So, if you own a Kindle reader and you want to read my book, head right here.

The post “Give in to the Feeling” goes live! appeared first on The Old Shelter.

Thursday Quotables – The Last Squire Ennismore

Many tried to talk to him, but he only shook his head; so, as nobody could make out where he came from or what he wanted, they made sure he was the spirit of some poor wretch who was tossing about the Head, longing for a snug corner in holy ground.

The priest went and tried to get some sense out of him.

“Is it Christian burial you’re wanting?” asked his reverence; but the creature only shook his head.

“Is it word sent to wife and daughters you’ve left orphans and widows, you’d like?” But no, it wasn’t that.

“Is it for sin committed you’re doomed to walk this way? Would masses comfort ye? There’s a heathen,” said his reverence; “Did you ever hear tell of a Christian that shook his head when masses is mentioned?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t understand English, Father,” says one of the officers who was there; “Try him with Latin.”

No sooner said than done. This priest started off with such a string of aves and paters that the stranger fairly took his heels and ran.

“He is an evil spirit,” explained the priest, when he stopped, tired out, and I have exorcized him.”

This is an excerpt from the short story The Last Squire Ennismore by Charlotte Riddell included in the collection Twelve Irish Ghost Stories. I love it! There is actually a reason for the stranger’s reaction, but I love the sense of humour that comes from this little snippet. The story is like many others I’ve read, it sounds like a lot of Irish lore, but the style, the language, the sense of place is so strong and so peculiar that it’s a joy to read.

———————-

In addition to be part of the Thursday Quotables meme at Bookshelf Fantasies, which I often take part to, this post is also part of the Reading Ireland Month.

The post Thursday Quotables – The Last Squire Ennismore appeared first on The Old Shelter.

There are always voices calling and I’ll always listen – Blood (Characters Speak Series)

The world is changing so fast it is unsettling.

This city of Chicago is the most puzzling place I’ve ever visited. Full of people. Full of noise. It’s hard to listen with all this noise around us. But there are voices calling. There are always voices calling. And I’ll always listen.

Cansasa also called, long ago, when we first met. He was the one who gave me my name by calling to me. Wewacipi.

It was a crumbling world of wars, and deceit, and lies that we were living in. Tribes were disbanded and destroyed, we were all supposed to take up a new way of living, no matter how senseless it looked to us, no matter how wounded we still were from all the loss. So many had lost so much.

Cansasa was a man left with nothing, he sure thought so. I knew better. I knew he still remembered and he still cared, deep inside. There’s a place, deep inside us, where nothing is ever lost. Where no matter what people see, what we ourselves think, our true self always lives. Sometimes we forget to look. Sometimes, we’re afraid of looking.

Cansasa taught me that.

But I couldn’t tell him back then. I knew he wouldn’t listen. So I had to show him.

I knew he hated the reservation. Like his chief, he never accepted to surrender to it. But I knew that was the place he needed to be. He gave in, in the end. He gave in because he trusted me.

He hated every moment. Hated seeing his cousins, his relatives, his elders, his tribesmen suffering and fading. He felt powerless – and he was, because he refused to delve into that deepest part of him where his strength lay, because that’s where his most painful memories also lived.

I was powerless too. I wasn’t able to make him see. When he decided to leave, I wasn’t happy about his decision, but I went with him. Of course I did. We’re brothers. I won’t leave him to tread this path alone.

One day he will see. He will look further and he will see. I’ll be there when that happens.

But now, we’re here in Chicago and other voices call. Other people who feel trapped and need to look just a little bit further.

I’ll listen to them. I will always listen.

Voices are calling. There are always voices calling. And I’ll always listen #histfic
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BUY IT!

Smashwords | Barnes&Nobles | Kobo | iBookStore

And many other online retailers

 

Who’s modelling as Blood

Michael Jackson

Michael Joseph Jackson was born in Gary, Indiana on August 29, 1958, and entertained audiences nearly his entire life. His parents prodded their growing family’s musical interests at home. By the early 1960s, the older boys Jackie, Tito and Jermaine had begun performing around the city; by 1964, Michael and Marlon had joined in. A musical prodigy, Michael’s singing and dancing talents were amazingly mature, and he soon became the dominant voice and focus of the Jackson 5. As a product of the 1970s, the boys emerged as one of the most accomplished black pop / soul vocal groups in music history, successfully evolving from a group like The Temptations to a disco phenomenon.

Solo success for Michael was inevitable, and by the 1980s, he had become infinitely more popular than his brotherly group. Record sales consistently orbited, culminating in the biggest-selling album of all time, “Thriller” in 1982. A TV natural, he ventured rather uneasily into films, such as playing the Scarecrow in I’m magic (1978), but had much better luck with elaborate music videos.

IMDb –
Rolling Stones – Michael Jackson Biography

 

The post There are always voices calling and I’ll always listen – Blood (Characters Speak Series) appeared first on The Old Shelter.

There are always voices calling and I’ll always listen – Blood (Characters Speak Series)

The world is changing so fast it is unsettling.

This city of Chicago is the most puzzling place I’ve ever visited. Full of people. Full of noise. It’s hard to listen with all this noise around us. But there are voices calling. There are always voices calling. And I’ll always listen.

Cansasa also called, long ago, when we first met. He was the one who gave me my name by calling to me. Wewacipi.

It was a crumbling world of wars, and deceit, and lies that we were living in. Tribes were disbanded and destroyed, we were all supposed to take up a new way of living, no matter how senseless it looked to us, no matter how wounded we still were from all the loss. So many had lost so much.

Cansasa was a man left with nothing, he sure thought so. I knew better. I knew he still remembered and he still cared, deep inside. There’s a place, deep inside us, where nothing is ever lost. Where no matter what people see, what we ourselves think, our true self always lives. Sometimes we forget to look. Sometimes, we’re afraid of looking.

Cansasa taught me that.

But I couldn’t tell him back then. I knew he wouldn’t listen. So I had to show him.

I knew he hated the reservation. Like his chief, he never accepted to surrender to it. But I knew that was the place he needed to be. He gave in, in the end. He gave in because he trusted me.

He hated every moment. Hated seeing his cousins, his relatives, his elders, his tribesmen suffering and fading. He felt powerless – and he was, because he refused to delve into that deepest part of him where his strength lay, because that’s where his most painful memories also lived.

I was powerless too. I wasn’t able to make him see. When he decided to leave, I wasn’t happy about his decision, but I went with him. Of course I did. We’re brothers. I won’t leave him to tread this path alone.

One day he will see. He will look further and he will see. I’ll be there when that happens.

But now, we’re here in Chicago and other voices call. Other people who feel trapped and need to look just a little bit further.

I’ll listen to them. I will always listen.

Voices are calling. There are always voices calling. And I’ll always listen #histfic
Click To Tweet

 

Available for preorder
Barnes&Nobles – Kobo – iBookStore

 

Who’s modelling as Blood

Michael Jackson

Michael Joseph Jackson was born in Gary, Indiana on August 29, 1958, and entertained audiences nearly his entire life. His parents prodded their growing family’s musical interests at home. By the early 1960s, the older boys Jackie, Tito and Jermaine had begun performing around the city; by 1964, Michael and Marlon had joined in. A musical prodigy, Michael’s singing and dancing talents were amazingly mature, and he soon became the dominant voice and focus of the Jackson 5. As a product of the 1970s, the boys emerged as one of the most accomplished black pop / soul vocal groups in music history, successfully evolving from a group like The Temptations to a disco phenomenon.

Solo success for Michael was inevitable, and by the 1980s, he had become infinitely more popular than his brotherly group. Record sales consistently orbited, culminating in the biggest-selling album of all time, “Thriller” in 1982. A TV natural, he ventured rather uneasily into films, such as playing the Scarecrow in I’m magic (1978), but had much better luck with elaborate music videos.

IMDb –
Rolling Stones – Michael Jackson Biography

 

The post There are always voices calling and I’ll always listen – Blood (Characters Speak Series) appeared first on The Old Shelter.

Surabaya Johnny – The sound of the 1920s Berliner Kabaret

 

I’d like to offer something different today, and I’m afraid this is again my sister’s fault.

As I mentioned in the Holochaust Mahnmal post, she has written a thesis about the Berliner Kabaret of the 1920s. She focused on Walter Mehring only because she couldn’t pursue her true love, Bertold Brecht. But she is always looking for things related to Brecht, this is how she ended up listening to an Italian singer that was very famous here in the 1960s and 1970s.

Milva has always had a very strong connection with Germany. Part of her career was spent on stage performing precisely Brecht’s work and in the early years of her career she sang many songs of the Berliner kabaret. Most of them talk about the underworld, dispossessed people, low spirits, very often war.

This Surabaya Johnny is one of those songs. It was written by Bertold Brecht for the comedy Happy End coauthored with Kurt Weill and Elisabeth Hauptmann. The comedy opened in Berlin on 2nd September 1929 and ran for seven performances.

And hey, here there’s the interpretation by Lotte Lenya, who was Weill’s wife and one of his actresses.

Enjoy.

 

 

The post Surabaya Johnny – The sound of the 1920s Berliner Kabaret appeared first on The Old Shelter.

I should have known better than to think my will alone would shape my life – Michael (Characters Speak Series)

I’ve always known why I was born and as a young man I willingly chose to follow that path. The path every man should tread, that of defending our people, with our hands and our wit and to protect our land with weapons in hands if need be… though I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life.

We were invincible (aren’t all young men?) but it wasn’t enough. I was at the right place at the right time. It was a victory, but it wasn’t enough. I lost one of my brothers, that day. Then I lost my family, my wife and my daughters. And then my tribesmen and my leader. And then our land was taken from us piece by piece, no matter how fierce we fought, with weapons and wit and mere will-power.

Nothing was enough.

During one of those fights I was severely wounded and that’s when it happened to me the first time. I had seen across the veil before, in dreams and during ceremonies, but when I woke from my wounds, I could see though it even when awake. The grandpa who healed me was the first to realize it. He was the one who gave me my new name, Cansasa. I asked him why that name? He told me one day I would know.

That’s when I met Wewacipi. We were both so lost in a world so different from the one we knew it wasn’t surprising we came together. He always says I saved him, though quite frankly, I think it was the other way around. He was the steady point in a shifting world. My brother.

I trust no one the way I trust him, that’s why I let him convince me to go to the reservation. I hated going. It wasn’t home. But Wewacipi was right. They were my people.

I should have known better than to think my will alone would shape my life #amreading
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I wish I could erase those years from my mind and my heart. Claw those memories off of me and just bury them where I will never find them again. The Pine Ridge reservation is a prison with invisible walls on a land inside a line written on a piece of paper, a place they call South Dakota. It means nothing to me. My people lived at the foot of the Black Hills, where I was born. Pine Ridge never meant anything to me. But Wewacipi convinced me to go.

Had I been stronger, I may have made a difference. I should have known I wasn’t. I watched my people, cousins, elders, women fall to deprivation and illness, and anything I did was meaningless and weak. I was useless.

Indians don’t leave the reservation these days. We know there’s nothing for us outside. But there was nothing for me inside either. I just knew. I needed to… go.

Wewacipi wasn’t happy with my decision, but he went with me nonetheless. We walked roads increasingly busy with traffic and came to this city, Chicago, where there’s no remembrance of what the land used to be. No connection. Though sometimes the veil still become clear enough to see on the other side.

In this world that makes no sense to me, perhaps it’s beyond the veil where all meaning lies.

 

Available for preorder
Barnes&Nobles – Kobo – iBookStore

 

Who’s modelling as Michael

Rick Mora

Rick was born in a field of corn called Los Angeles but raised on a 100 acre farm with no electricity and a wood burning stove in Crescent City, California. He returned to the city at age 7. He obtained a Bachelors

Degree from California State University, Northridge in communication. Acting and Modeling soon followed when he was discovered by legendary Male Super Model agent Omar Alberto. Mora then successfully shot with great photographers like Carlos Reynosa, Cliff Watts, and Matthew Rolston which allowed him to enter the American & European commercial & modeling market.

In addition to acting, Rick is an artist involved in the business of photography with over 9 commissioned pieces. He specializes in Landscapes but also shoots head shots, modeling portfolio, children and weddings. He photographs feature film as well as many high profile events.

Rick Mora – official website

 

The post I should have known better than to think my will alone would shape my life – Michael (Characters Speak Series) appeared first on The Old Shelter.

I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life – Michael (Characters Speak Series)

I’ve always known why I was born and as a young man I willingly chose to follow that path. The path every man should tread, that of defending our people, with our hands and our wit and to protect our land with weapons in hands if need be… though I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life.

We were invincible (aren’t all young men?) but it wasn’t enough. I was at the right place at the right time. It was a victory, but it wasn’t enough. I lost one of my brothers, that day. Then I lost my family, my wife and my daughters. And then my tribesmen and my leader. And then our land was taken from us piece by piece, no matter how fierce we fought, with weapons and wit and mere will-power.

Nothing was enough.

During one of those fights I was severely wounded and that’s when it happened to me the first time. I had seen across the veil before, in dreams and during ceremonies, but when I woke from my wounds, I could see though it even when awake. The grandpa who healed me was the first to realize it. He was the one who gave me my new name, Cansasa. I asked him why that name? He told me one day I would know.

That’s when I met Wewacipi. We were both so lost in a world so different from the one we knew it wasn’t surprising we came together. He always says I saved him, though quite frankly, I think it was the other way around. He was the steady point in a shifting world. My brother.

I trust no one the way I trust him, that’s why I let him convince me to go to the reservation. I hated going. It wasn’t home. But Wewacipi was right. They were my people.

I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life #amreading
Click To Tweet

I wish I could erase those years from my mind and my heart. Claw those memories off of me and just bury them where I will never find them again. The Pine Ridge reservation is a prison with invisible walls on a land inside a line written on a piece of paper, a place they call South Dakota. It means nothing to me. My people lived at the foot of the Black Hills, where I was born. Pine Ridge never meant anything to me. But Wewacipi convinced me to go.

Had I been stronger, I may have made a difference. I should have known I wasn’t. I watched my people, cousins, elders, women fall to deprivation and illness, and anything I did was meaningless and weak. I was useless.

Indians don’t leave the reservation these days. We know there’s nothing for us outside. But there was nothing for me inside either. I just knew. I needed to… go.

Wewacipi wasn’t happy with my decision, but he went with me nonetheless. We walked roads increasingly busy with traffic and came to this city, Chicago, where there’s no remembrance of what the land used to be. No connection. Though sometimes the veil still become clear enough to see on the other side.

In this world that makes no sense to me, perhaps it’s beyond the veil where all meaning lies.

 

Available for preorder
Barnes&Nobles – Kobo – iBookStore

 

Who’s modelling as Michael

Rick Mora

Rick was born in a field of corn called Los Angeles but raised on a 100 acre farm with no electricity and a wood burning stove in Crescent City, California. He returned to the city at age 7. He obtained a Bachelors

Degree from California State University, Northridge in communication. Acting and Modeling soon followed when he was discovered by legendary Male Super Model agent Omar Alberto. Mora then successfully shot with great photographers like Carlos Reynosa, Cliff Watts, and Matthew Rolston which allowed him to enter the American & European commercial & modeling market.

In addition to acting, Rick is an artist involved in the business of photography with over 9 commissioned pieces. He specializes in Landscapes but also shoots head shots, modeling portfolio, children and weddings. He photographs feature film as well as many high profile events.

Rick Mora – official website

 

The post I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life – Michael (Characters Speak Series) appeared first on The Old Shelter.

Give in to the Feeling Blog Tour

Some of you asked me what a blog tour is.

Think at it as a tour of places where you go presenting your book. In real life, they’d be most likely bookshops or libraries. You’d show up, you’d talk about your book and based on the place you are, you’d give a different speech so to make the subject easy for the specific audience. Maybe there would be someone helping you presenting the book, a person knowledgeable in a subject close to your book (which is the reason why you chose that particular bookshop) and that person will add her voice to your speech.

Blog tours are the same thing, only they happene online. Your book goes around blogs and on each you’ll present the story and/or give a speech (a guest post) related to the story. Or maybe the host blogger will present the book for you.

I think at it as having book parties on multiple blogs, especially since my own tour all happens on friends’ and fellow writers’ blogs.

Organising my own blog tour

I stumbled upon blog tours last year and I immediately loved the idea. I like the possibility to connect with people who loves the same things I love. The possibility to help getting out the word for them. I had the possibility to host just one blog tour so far, but I’ll do more. It’s something I really enjoy. That’s why I decided that when the time come, I was going to do my own blog tour.

When I hosted the tour last year it was through a company who organise blog tours for author. I considered that, because you know, I just hosted one blog tour, I wasn’t sure how all that was done. But then a friend, Nicholas, suggested that I could actually orginise my own, with my friends.

That ‘with my friends’ was what sold me. I thought, I mean, how hard can that be? I’ll contact all people I know, we’ll talk, we’ll come up with something. I can do it.

Yes, I could do it. It was demanding and time consuming, but it was also uplifting and exciting. I loved working with every single person on this tour.

Let me give you a virtual hug, guys. It was a fantastic experience. I’m overwhelmed with your support and I can’t wait to return the favour any time you need it.

The grime and grit of it

As for how I went about it, here it is:

I contacted the bloggers I thought might be interested in participating, either because I know they are fellow dieselpunks, or are into history, or have a recurring feature connected with publishing
I explained what I wanted to do and together we came up with an idea. Some agreed to write a review. Some preferred an interview. Some asked for a guest post. Some other offered to write a post related to the story.
When I gathered all the blogs interested in participating, I wrote down a schedule and contacted everyone to ask a confirmation whether the day could be good for them
I wrote my own guest posts
I designed a few graphics (and more I should design) and send it out to everyone participating
I wrote down the roster for the blog tour and I’m posting it here

 

And so here we are. Today it begins. I’m so excited I can’t even express it.

I hope you’ll enjoy!

Give in to the Feeling #blogtour Have a look at the roster and the wonderful people on it
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19 February

Sara Letourneau’s Official Website & Blog

Sara is a fantasy writer and a lover of teas and you’ll find both on her blog. She’s running an incredible series dedicated to building characters, The Character Evolution Files, and if you’re a writer, you want to have a look at that. Well, you may want to look at that even if you are a reader, it’s really interesting.

Interview

20 February

Jack’s Place

Jack is a Steampunk author (Beyond the Rail Series) and a very active member of -punk community. He has recently turned his blog into a hub for writer of all –punk genres, so if you’re curious about what this is all about, head to his site and you’ll have a very good look at what the indie community has to offer in this field. He’s also the mastermind behind the Scribbler’s Den on the Steampunk Empire forums.

Review

21 February

CW Hawes

Fellow dieselpunk author CW Hawes has a few series up his sleeve, both in the alternate history and mystery genres. He’s an enthusiast of everything vintage and on his blog you’ll find articles about classic sf stories, pulp series and true history, especially related to machines and invntions, though he’s especially famous for his love and knowledge of airship.

Interview

22 February

Bard Writes Books

Bard is the author of the dieselpunk series The Troubleshooter, a dark, gritty sf series inspired by film noir themes and atmosphere, as well as a series of classic fantasy novels. I’ll define his blog nearly intimistic, though recently it has opened to interviews and articles about the self-published world.

Guest post

23 February

Crime Writer Sue Coletta

If you ever need to know anything about murders, serial killers, police procedures and even true life crimes, Sue’s blog is the place you want to go. She is a tireless collector of information and an equally tireless disseminator of her knowledge. And she’s always extremely accurate.

She’s also the acclaimed author of the mystery Marred.

Guest post

24 February

Hopes and Dreams: My Writing and My Sons

Lillian is a writer of historical and fantasy stories. A very accurate historical writer, passionate about Japan, I met her last year during the AtoZ Challenge where she was writing about Fantasy Films so Bad They Are Actually Good, which believe me, you want to read.

Guest post

25 February

Atherton’s Magic Vapour

I met Melanie during last year AtoZ Challenge too, where she was posting a mystery story with a steampunky feel, each chapter of which was dedicated to a character related to the day’s letter of the alphabet, everyone with photos taken by Melanie herself. I was very impressed with the amount of work she put in, and the story is fun too, so if you want to read it: Alas! A complete mystery novelette in 26 installments

Interview

26 February

Down the Rabbit Hole

French woman who grew up in the UK and now living in China: let’s talk about being a citizen of the world! She is a writer of Fantasy with a series of which The Viper and the Urchin is the first installment.

Her blog is a collection of funny and interesting things, starting with her series Of Course You Realise… where she shares the most unusual things she comes across on the internet while researching her books.

Interview

27 February

Holly Gonzalez

She’s the author of a series of dieselpunk/decopunk stories, The Family of Earth. She’s very passionate about Art Deco, which is a defining characteristic of her work.

Post

28 February

Mike Fargo Blog

Bill is a veteran of the publishing world with many books under his belt. He has written about everything, but now he has devoted himself to the 1920s. He’s the author of a series of mystery stories set in NYC during Prohibition. His protagonist, Mike Fargo, is a PI in the most classic hard-boiled style. But you’ll find good, informative article about the 1920s on his blog too.

Post

29 February

A Smile and a Gun

Another good place where you’ll find information about the 1920s. I especially liked the C is for Cocktail series, but there is always something interesting on this blog and what’s best, primary resources are preferred.

Lupachi is working to a dieselpunk story set in 1920s Chicago (her hometown).

Post

1 March

Sara C. Snider

Sara is an author of fantasy with a book published (The Thirteenth Tower) and a series (Hazel and Holly) going on on her blog. And guess what, I met her last year during the AtoZ Challenge. She has a gift for very short fiction.

Interview

2 March

Nicholas C. Rossis

Nicholas’s blog is a surprising place. You can find every sort of curious things on it, but above all, you’ll find insightful posts about promotion and marketing for authors, as well as Nicholas’s own experiments with it.

He’s also an author of SF with a series out, the Pearseus Saga.

Review

3 March

Woelf Ditrich

Author of the fantasy series Guardians of the Seals. Is involved in many different projects, talks about fantasy and being a writer on his blog and runs a weekly series devoted to fantasy artists from around the world, the Art of Fantasy series.

Guest post

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I hope you’ll find something interesting in here. I actually think all these blogs are fantastic places to visit where you’ll find yourself at home.

I’ll be updating links as they’ll go live, so stay tuned!

And don’t forget my own series of post, Characters Speak, that will run to the end of the month

6 Feb – Susie –  When I dance to jazz music, I feel free

13 Feb – Simon – The dreams fueled my desires and I follow them willingly

20 Feb – Michael – I should have known better than to think my will alone would shaped my life

27 Feb – Blood – There are always voices calling and I’ll always listen

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