Rival Gates's Blog, page 42
May 6, 2015
"Just a Writer"
I have a tendency to see the world a little differently than some other people and I’m ok with that. In my mind, I am an artist. I paint pictures with words. I also think many people are artists in a wider interpretation. The bricklayer is creating a masterpiece I could never make. The person handling my 401k puts together the right blend of investments to make my assets grow. Mechanics working on my car do a wonderful job of putting it back together so it will work for me and be safe. The person cutting my hair takes a shaggy mess and creates a less shaggy mess out of it. If you really look at the world from an open viewpoint, there are artists all around. I am pleased to count myself among them. Then I ran into someone the other day I was working with who said, “So you’re just a writer?” The Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World” in my head came to a screeching halt. ‘Just a writer?’ That cut me to the quick relatively speaking, I have accomplished what only a select few in the world have. Many more have tried and failed. Even more never had the nerve to try in the first place. I would never say someone was just a bricklayer or an investment banker or a mechanic or hair dresser. These are hardworking people who take pride in their work and so am I. Writing may not require heavy lifting or other manual labor but it is a hard job all the same. You have a vast array of characters you must develop and make real for the reader. They each must have their own storyline. Those storylines must intertwine with the main tale. Then you must have it all planned out and placed with the events in order. From there you must dance from one point to another in the story through dialogue and minor scenes. When it works you pull it together to have your masterpiece. When it doesn’t work, you go back and find where it went astray. It is a painstaking act of love. There is no feeling as satisfying as when the story comes together. Then you have it published and get feedback from readers. This is like giving your 5th grade speech in front of the world. Some people won’t like it. Others will love what you have done. They are the ones who fortify you. When you have a down day, you can read those positive comments about how your book was a positive part of their life. That spurs you on. So when someone says I’m ‘Just a writer’ I feel an immediate outrage and then remember that this person likely has no idea what goes into my art. My anger turns to pity and I move on. They aren’t worth the explanation.
May 5, 2015
I'm Back
I have just finished a stretch of 12 eleven hour plus work days in a row at my day job. I was kept going by my memory that I could get back to book editing after this was all over. Today is my first day off and I have to say, as much as I love my writing, all I want to do is sleep. I feel guilty about that but it is true. Perhaps after a nap I can start work again or else tonight. Writing is my passion. It is one of the greatest things to come into my life. But I am not a young man anymore. My body is aching in places I didn’t even know I used. I will jump back in the saddle and work on my books…after a little rest. The .99 sale on “Quest for the Red Sapphire” was a smashing success. The book moved up over 1,000,000 spots on the best seller list at Amazon at one point. I am so glad so many people have started the journey. It is a fun trek to take! Thanks to all the new followers.
May 3, 2015
Subday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Rander rubbed his eyes and asked, “Why are you waking us up now. It is not even light yet.”
“We must move out now,” Linvin answered. “Any farmer with livestock and crops still in the fields this far into the fall will be up at the break of day. We must not be discovered here. Furthermore, anyone running that store would find items missing when they open. In a farm community that store would open when the farmers awake. With the ground muddied by the rain there is a chance we could be tracked here. It is better to think a local thief had sought refuge here than us. Saddle your horses and leave nothing behind that links to us. When you are done I will introduce you to Miri.”
“She is awake.” Bander cried.
Linvin put his fingers to his lips and reminded him to stay quiet. “She is in pain and is confused. So do not overwhelm her right now. She says she can ride. Bander, I will assign you to aid her. Ride by her side and hold her reins if need be. See to it she does not fall from the saddle. Everyone else make sure we have all the apples we can carry and full water skins.”
“What is the plan?” Rander inquired.
“We will flee to the south,” Linvin responded. “We would be expected to head back to the east as we came but that is too obvious. It will undoubtedly be re-enforced by the time we reached the river mouth. To the west we already know the number of troops concentrated along the Silver River. A stealthy escape would prove most difficult in that direction. We will go to the Lake and find a boat. Then we will sail to the south shore and continue our journey home.”
“Do you think they are pursuing us?” Rander wondered.
“Most assuredly,” Linvin answered. “We damaged Mandrean’s home and his pride. He will bring all he has to bare in order to prevent our escape. Though you scattered their horses at the message depot, me must assume that the entire Empire has been put on alert and that prices will surely be placed on our heads. That means no contact with anyone. We must disappear. Anyone seeing us will bring the weight of the army down upon us. That will be enough questions for now. Be ready to leave by the time I return with Miri.” He turned and went to the injured woman’s side.
He found Miri feeling her side where Hugon struck her. Her face winced as she touched the wound. “There are at least a couple of broken ribs in there,” Linvin said as he sat down. “Fortunately, they do not appear to be dislocated. They will heal in time. Until then, keep your breaths shallow and make no sudden movements.”
Miri’s eyes cleared and she gave herself the rest of the water Linvin left in the cup. She looked at Linvin and gave a weak laugh. “You have me practically mummified here. I doubt I will be making any sudden movements. Who was it that undressed me and bound me like this?”
“For your information,” Linvin said firmly, “It is called a field dressing and I was the one who applied it to you.”
“It hardly seems appropriate for you to see my body unclothed,” Miri firmly noted.
“There was no time for civility,” Linvin stated. “Either I had to tend to you or you would be dead. If you still are displeased then you had better get used to it. If we live to see the end of this day I am going to have to change those dressings. Fear not. When tending wounds I look at you as just another man.”
Miri pursed her lips and said, “Well if that is how it will be I suppose I will just envision you as a woman. Then neither of us is embarrassed.”
“Whatever gives you comfort, My Lady” Linvin said with tongue in cheek. Linvin prepared a sack to cover her upper and lower parts. He used his magic to lift her into the air so he could easily dress her without causing pain.
“We must move out now,” Linvin answered. “Any farmer with livestock and crops still in the fields this far into the fall will be up at the break of day. We must not be discovered here. Furthermore, anyone running that store would find items missing when they open. In a farm community that store would open when the farmers awake. With the ground muddied by the rain there is a chance we could be tracked here. It is better to think a local thief had sought refuge here than us. Saddle your horses and leave nothing behind that links to us. When you are done I will introduce you to Miri.”
“She is awake.” Bander cried.
Linvin put his fingers to his lips and reminded him to stay quiet. “She is in pain and is confused. So do not overwhelm her right now. She says she can ride. Bander, I will assign you to aid her. Ride by her side and hold her reins if need be. See to it she does not fall from the saddle. Everyone else make sure we have all the apples we can carry and full water skins.”
“What is the plan?” Rander inquired.
“We will flee to the south,” Linvin responded. “We would be expected to head back to the east as we came but that is too obvious. It will undoubtedly be re-enforced by the time we reached the river mouth. To the west we already know the number of troops concentrated along the Silver River. A stealthy escape would prove most difficult in that direction. We will go to the Lake and find a boat. Then we will sail to the south shore and continue our journey home.”
“Do you think they are pursuing us?” Rander wondered.
“Most assuredly,” Linvin answered. “We damaged Mandrean’s home and his pride. He will bring all he has to bare in order to prevent our escape. Though you scattered their horses at the message depot, me must assume that the entire Empire has been put on alert and that prices will surely be placed on our heads. That means no contact with anyone. We must disappear. Anyone seeing us will bring the weight of the army down upon us. That will be enough questions for now. Be ready to leave by the time I return with Miri.” He turned and went to the injured woman’s side.
He found Miri feeling her side where Hugon struck her. Her face winced as she touched the wound. “There are at least a couple of broken ribs in there,” Linvin said as he sat down. “Fortunately, they do not appear to be dislocated. They will heal in time. Until then, keep your breaths shallow and make no sudden movements.”
Miri’s eyes cleared and she gave herself the rest of the water Linvin left in the cup. She looked at Linvin and gave a weak laugh. “You have me practically mummified here. I doubt I will be making any sudden movements. Who was it that undressed me and bound me like this?”
“For your information,” Linvin said firmly, “It is called a field dressing and I was the one who applied it to you.”
“It hardly seems appropriate for you to see my body unclothed,” Miri firmly noted.
“There was no time for civility,” Linvin stated. “Either I had to tend to you or you would be dead. If you still are displeased then you had better get used to it. If we live to see the end of this day I am going to have to change those dressings. Fear not. When tending wounds I look at you as just another man.”
Miri pursed her lips and said, “Well if that is how it will be I suppose I will just envision you as a woman. Then neither of us is embarrassed.”
“Whatever gives you comfort, My Lady” Linvin said with tongue in cheek. Linvin prepared a sack to cover her upper and lower parts. He used his magic to lift her into the air so he could easily dress her without causing pain.
May 2, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
Drawing his sword Linvin strutted in a confident manner from the protection of the rocks. The men and gnome took no notice of him as he came within striking distance.
At last, he spoke, “This gnome must be quite the terror if the three of you are required to subdue him.”
The men were surprised and stopped their attack. Tossing the gnome to the ground, they moved to encircle Linvin. “This is none of your affair, traveler. Be gone with you or share the fate of the gnome.”
Linvin laughed with aconfident grin. “You three are pathetic. What crime has this fellow committed that warrants such a beating?”
The man doing the talking drew his sword and pointed it at Linvin. The others followed suit. “Like I said, Mister, it’s none of your business.”
Linvin looked at the tip of the sword in amusement. He shook his head and smirked. “Oh, my dear gentlemen, you are about to do something most foolhardy. If you keep weapons out of this, I will deliver a sound thrashing to you. But if you insist on using your blades, I will be forced to kill you. Think,for just a moment,before you throw your lives away.”
The man closest to Linvin was incensed.
“Why, you impertinent little dog!” He raised his sword to strike his foe. Linvin anticipated the move and knocked the sword to the ground with a sweeping blow from his own. In the same motion, he wheeled around and struck the pommel into the man’s forehead, depositing him on his bottom.
Before the other men could respond to the action, Linvin raised his arm and made a forward gesture with his hand. The twins appeared from behind the rocks with their bows drawn and pointed squarely at the other humans. The men froze in their positions, close enough to see the intricacies of the arrow tips.
Linvin saw that his blow had sliced the man’s sword hand. The extent of the wound was obscured as blood flowed freely from the region. He cowered on the ground and pressed it against his shirt to stop the bleeding. Linvin kicked the man, sending him to his back. Then Linvin stuck a foot on wounded man’s chest and brought the blade of his sword directly against the man’s neck.
Linvin held his free hand aloft as he addressed the other men. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my cousins. They can strike a sparrow’s eye with an arrow from five times this distance, so cutting down two spineless wretches like you would prove little challenge. If you think that I am bluffing, then by all means, make a move. Otherwise, I need only lower my arm to order your demise.” The men still standing lowered their weapons.
Linvin once again turned his attention to the man on the ground. He pressed the blade with greater firmness against the man’s neck. “Your friends make better choices than you, good sir.
Now you will answer me. Why do you terrorize this gnome?”
The man answered with the question “Who are you?”
“I am the one who’s going to be burying you if you do not answer me now,” Linvin responded ashis anger swelled.
The man shook with fear but managed to speak. “This gnome is a thief and he was getting his due.”
Linvin shook his head. “I do not care if he is the most wanted criminal in the world. It still should not take three men to handle him. You will let him go!”
The man became obstinate. “I don’t take orders from elves or half-breeds.”
Linvin raised his eyebrows at the statement. Then he removed his foot from the man’s chest and ground his heel onto the man’s wounded hand. The human shrieked in pain. “You are in no position to bargain here,” Linvin told him. “Swear to end your vendetta against this gnome.”
The man nodded his head in agreement. Linvin removed his heel from the man’s hand but kept his blade to the man’s throat. “Now tell your friends to drop their weapons.” The man urged his companions to disarm, but they did not move.
Linvin began to lose patience. “You know my cousins are becoming fatigued from holding those arrows. If you wait much longer they might just slip through their fingers. I would hate for such an unfortunate accident to take your lives. So drop your weapons or I drop my arm!”
At last, he spoke, “This gnome must be quite the terror if the three of you are required to subdue him.”
The men were surprised and stopped their attack. Tossing the gnome to the ground, they moved to encircle Linvin. “This is none of your affair, traveler. Be gone with you or share the fate of the gnome.”
Linvin laughed with aconfident grin. “You three are pathetic. What crime has this fellow committed that warrants such a beating?”
The man doing the talking drew his sword and pointed it at Linvin. The others followed suit. “Like I said, Mister, it’s none of your business.”
Linvin looked at the tip of the sword in amusement. He shook his head and smirked. “Oh, my dear gentlemen, you are about to do something most foolhardy. If you keep weapons out of this, I will deliver a sound thrashing to you. But if you insist on using your blades, I will be forced to kill you. Think,for just a moment,before you throw your lives away.”
The man closest to Linvin was incensed.
“Why, you impertinent little dog!” He raised his sword to strike his foe. Linvin anticipated the move and knocked the sword to the ground with a sweeping blow from his own. In the same motion, he wheeled around and struck the pommel into the man’s forehead, depositing him on his bottom.
Before the other men could respond to the action, Linvin raised his arm and made a forward gesture with his hand. The twins appeared from behind the rocks with their bows drawn and pointed squarely at the other humans. The men froze in their positions, close enough to see the intricacies of the arrow tips.
Linvin saw that his blow had sliced the man’s sword hand. The extent of the wound was obscured as blood flowed freely from the region. He cowered on the ground and pressed it against his shirt to stop the bleeding. Linvin kicked the man, sending him to his back. Then Linvin stuck a foot on wounded man’s chest and brought the blade of his sword directly against the man’s neck.
Linvin held his free hand aloft as he addressed the other men. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my cousins. They can strike a sparrow’s eye with an arrow from five times this distance, so cutting down two spineless wretches like you would prove little challenge. If you think that I am bluffing, then by all means, make a move. Otherwise, I need only lower my arm to order your demise.” The men still standing lowered their weapons.
Linvin once again turned his attention to the man on the ground. He pressed the blade with greater firmness against the man’s neck. “Your friends make better choices than you, good sir.
Now you will answer me. Why do you terrorize this gnome?”
The man answered with the question “Who are you?”
“I am the one who’s going to be burying you if you do not answer me now,” Linvin responded ashis anger swelled.
The man shook with fear but managed to speak. “This gnome is a thief and he was getting his due.”
Linvin shook his head. “I do not care if he is the most wanted criminal in the world. It still should not take three men to handle him. You will let him go!”
The man became obstinate. “I don’t take orders from elves or half-breeds.”
Linvin raised his eyebrows at the statement. Then he removed his foot from the man’s chest and ground his heel onto the man’s wounded hand. The human shrieked in pain. “You are in no position to bargain here,” Linvin told him. “Swear to end your vendetta against this gnome.”
The man nodded his head in agreement. Linvin removed his heel from the man’s hand but kept his blade to the man’s throat. “Now tell your friends to drop their weapons.” The man urged his companions to disarm, but they did not move.
Linvin began to lose patience. “You know my cousins are becoming fatigued from holding those arrows. If you wait much longer they might just slip through their fingers. I would hate for such an unfortunate accident to take your lives. So drop your weapons or I drop my arm!”
April 28, 2015
Last Day
This is the last day to get “Quest for the Red Sapphire” for .99. Here’s the link http://www.amazon.com/Quest-Red-Sapph...
April 26, 2015
Sunday Excerpt, "Crucible"
Linvin changed his line of questioning. And what of Miri? Is her destiny to die or is there a way to use our power to save her?
To answer the second part of your question first, the Red Sapphire, explained, Magic cannot be used to heal others. If the body is not prepared to handle the energy either by one of the gems or by being born a magician, the absorption of energy would surely kill them. If magicians could heal they would be revered in your culture instead of being treated as unnatural oddities.
As for the first part of your question, I cannot see her destiny. All you can do is what you already have done and tend to her wounds. Perhaps you could create a warm field of magic about her. It would dry her from the rain and promote wellbeing.
Linvin pointed the staff at Miri and thought, Alright. Let us try this.
Good, responded the gem. Concentrate on creating a zone of warm air around her. Red Magic vapor emanated from the Red Sapphire and surrounded Miri’s body. Not too hot now, Linvin was told. We do not wish to cook her. Simply dry and warm her skin. Linvin was tense as he tried to do as he was told. The air he was creating became hot. No, no, the magic stone cried through his head, You are making this too difficult. Relax and just imagine a warm summer breeze. Linvin released a deep breath and relaxed. He thought of one of the temperate winds, which frequented his tree on a summer’s day. Perfect, Master. Now end the projection. Linvin used his mind to tell the gem to stop. The red cloud around Miri quickly dissipated. Linvin felt her arms. They were dry and warm.
That hardly took any effort at all, Linvin noted with surprise.
That was a very minor display of magic, the Red Sapphire conceded. Greater deeds will incur greater exertion. If you are to have your strength for tomorrow, you would do well to take what rest you can tonight.
What about Miri? Linvin asked. What will tomorrow bring for her?
As I said before, Master, I cannot see her destiny. However, if it gives you comfort, few would have survived what she has. There is certain strength about her. She is like no other woman I have ever encountered. That is one of the reasons I think you are so attracted to her.
Now wait just a moment. Linvin protested.
You cannot lie to me, the Red Sapphire told him. I know every thought in your head and understand them sometimes better than you. It is actually amusing to listen to you try to convince yourself you are not enamored with her. Perhaps if you are fortunate, she will feel the same way.
You have wasted too much of this night with questions, Master. Let your mind and body rest. There will be time to worry in the morning. I will rouse you shortly before sunrise as you were about to command.
Linvin felt like he was arguing with himself and finally saw the wisdom of the gem’s words. He leaned his head back and drifted off to sleep.
To answer the second part of your question first, the Red Sapphire, explained, Magic cannot be used to heal others. If the body is not prepared to handle the energy either by one of the gems or by being born a magician, the absorption of energy would surely kill them. If magicians could heal they would be revered in your culture instead of being treated as unnatural oddities.
As for the first part of your question, I cannot see her destiny. All you can do is what you already have done and tend to her wounds. Perhaps you could create a warm field of magic about her. It would dry her from the rain and promote wellbeing.
Linvin pointed the staff at Miri and thought, Alright. Let us try this.
Good, responded the gem. Concentrate on creating a zone of warm air around her. Red Magic vapor emanated from the Red Sapphire and surrounded Miri’s body. Not too hot now, Linvin was told. We do not wish to cook her. Simply dry and warm her skin. Linvin was tense as he tried to do as he was told. The air he was creating became hot. No, no, the magic stone cried through his head, You are making this too difficult. Relax and just imagine a warm summer breeze. Linvin released a deep breath and relaxed. He thought of one of the temperate winds, which frequented his tree on a summer’s day. Perfect, Master. Now end the projection. Linvin used his mind to tell the gem to stop. The red cloud around Miri quickly dissipated. Linvin felt her arms. They were dry and warm.
That hardly took any effort at all, Linvin noted with surprise.
That was a very minor display of magic, the Red Sapphire conceded. Greater deeds will incur greater exertion. If you are to have your strength for tomorrow, you would do well to take what rest you can tonight.
What about Miri? Linvin asked. What will tomorrow bring for her?
As I said before, Master, I cannot see her destiny. However, if it gives you comfort, few would have survived what she has. There is certain strength about her. She is like no other woman I have ever encountered. That is one of the reasons I think you are so attracted to her.
Now wait just a moment. Linvin protested.
You cannot lie to me, the Red Sapphire told him. I know every thought in your head and understand them sometimes better than you. It is actually amusing to listen to you try to convince yourself you are not enamored with her. Perhaps if you are fortunate, she will feel the same way.
You have wasted too much of this night with questions, Master. Let your mind and body rest. There will be time to worry in the morning. I will rouse you shortly before sunrise as you were about to command.
Linvin felt like he was arguing with himself and finally saw the wisdom of the gem’s words. He leaned his head back and drifted off to sleep.
April 25, 2015
Saturday Excerpt, "Quest"
THE .99 SALE OF “QUEST FOR THE RED SAPPHIRE” ENDS TUESDAY. GET YOURS TODAY AT http://amzn.to/1npYd0S
Excerpt
Three human men had surrounded a rather meek-looking gnome. One would cuff the small victim and shove him to one of the others for additional bludgeoning. Each human would lay a heavy blow on him before continuing the rotation. From time to time the gnome would strike back at his oppressors, but their retaliation was always far more severe than the blows they received. The gnome was bloodied when the cousins first saw him and his circumstances were in a rapid downward spiral.
Rander moved close to Linvin and whispered, “They are preoccupied and have taken no notice of our presence. I think we can slip past without being detected.”
Linvin looked at his cousin with disgust.
“Tell me, cousin; what do you see?” Linvin asked.
Rander looked at the spectacle, stuck out his chin and answered, “I see a diversion perfect for our egress from this area.”
Linvin shook his head in disappointment. “I see someone outnumbered and outmatched,in need of help. We should provide that help.”
“Don’t do this, Linvin,” Rander begged. “This is none of our business and trouble we don’t need. We should ride around and leave the outcome of this fight to fate.”
“Fate?” Linvin asked. “Did fate not bring us here at this moment to make a difference?”
Rander was quick to respond. “No. Fate gave us an opportunity to continue our journey undetected.”
Linvin stared at what had changed from a fight to a beating and sighed. “For all your maturation during our adventures,” Linvin told Rander, “in the end, we still see things differently. That is truly a pity. And it is pity that forces me to intervene in this travesty.”
“Come now, Linvin. We do not know the whole story before us. Perhaps the gnome deserves this pounding. Besides, the little fella looks like he’s holding up pretty well.”
The absurdity of the remark hardly rated a response. Linvin thought for a brief moment and spoke softly to Rander. “Good cousin, in all your life, have you never found yourself in the role of that gnome? Surrounded by enemies and helpless?” Rander was silent and looked ashamed. Linvin continued, “In those situations, did you not hope or even pray that someone, anyone,would come to your aid?”
Linvin had struck a chord with his cousin. Bander was anxious to enter the melee and waited only for approval. Rander looked at the fight through different eyes and told Linvin, “You are our Leader. We will follow your orders.”
Excerpt
Three human men had surrounded a rather meek-looking gnome. One would cuff the small victim and shove him to one of the others for additional bludgeoning. Each human would lay a heavy blow on him before continuing the rotation. From time to time the gnome would strike back at his oppressors, but their retaliation was always far more severe than the blows they received. The gnome was bloodied when the cousins first saw him and his circumstances were in a rapid downward spiral.
Rander moved close to Linvin and whispered, “They are preoccupied and have taken no notice of our presence. I think we can slip past without being detected.”
Linvin looked at his cousin with disgust.
“Tell me, cousin; what do you see?” Linvin asked.
Rander looked at the spectacle, stuck out his chin and answered, “I see a diversion perfect for our egress from this area.”
Linvin shook his head in disappointment. “I see someone outnumbered and outmatched,in need of help. We should provide that help.”
“Don’t do this, Linvin,” Rander begged. “This is none of our business and trouble we don’t need. We should ride around and leave the outcome of this fight to fate.”
“Fate?” Linvin asked. “Did fate not bring us here at this moment to make a difference?”
Rander was quick to respond. “No. Fate gave us an opportunity to continue our journey undetected.”
Linvin stared at what had changed from a fight to a beating and sighed. “For all your maturation during our adventures,” Linvin told Rander, “in the end, we still see things differently. That is truly a pity. And it is pity that forces me to intervene in this travesty.”
“Come now, Linvin. We do not know the whole story before us. Perhaps the gnome deserves this pounding. Besides, the little fella looks like he’s holding up pretty well.”
The absurdity of the remark hardly rated a response. Linvin thought for a brief moment and spoke softly to Rander. “Good cousin, in all your life, have you never found yourself in the role of that gnome? Surrounded by enemies and helpless?” Rander was silent and looked ashamed. Linvin continued, “In those situations, did you not hope or even pray that someone, anyone,would come to your aid?”
Linvin had struck a chord with his cousin. Bander was anxious to enter the melee and waited only for approval. Rander looked at the fight through different eyes and told Linvin, “You are our Leader. We will follow your orders.”
April 22, 2015
New Blog Appearance and Interview
Author A.B. Funhauser has been kind enough to host me as a guest blogger on her site. She is posting excerpts from my book as well as my biography and my answers to the questions we both responded to. To see her responses revisit my Sunday, April, 19th blog. Here is the link to my blog appearance today. http://abfunkhauser.com/2015/04/22/re... I hope you enjoy it.
April 21, 2015
Time To Edit
Sales of “Quest for the Red Sapphire” have been huge during this .99 sale. It has moved up over 700,000 places on the best seller’s list at Amazon.com! If you’re on the fence about ordering, the sale ends soon so order your copy today at http://amzn.to/1npYd0S . I’ve been doing so much publicity lately that I nearly forgot that I had the edits for “Sapphire Crucible” waiting to be finished. I will be going into a two week stretch at work when I will be basically unavailable to my writing . So I have till tomorrow to finish my edits. On top of that, the first edits for book 3, “Mandrean Revenge” just came through. It will have to wait until after my work bombardment to attack those. When all that is done and that book is ready to publish, I can finally get back to finishing book 4, “Repercussions Abound.” It was so long ago that I first thought up a half-elf named Linvin Grithinshield. He has come so far and has so far to go.
April 19, 2015
Interview Swap
Author A.B. Funkhauser and I each answered a series of questions to be posted on the other’s blog. Today I am posting my colleague’s answers. A. B. will be posting mine on Wednesday. Enjoy!
Author Questionnaire
What are your thoughts on muses and do you have one?
Muses are mythical, compelling creatures credited with facilitating masterworks that otherwise would have never been. Alma Mahler and Helga Testorf come to mind along with that whole thing George Sand and Chopin had going on. I have to say that the Heuer character is richer because of a couple of guy buddies who endured my pestering to look over scenes and dialogue for male “authenticity”. They had plenty to say: “guys don’t think like that” “guys don’t care about that” etc. I took about half of their suggestions; the rest is creative license. Heuer is complicated, so the reactions he got from my muses told me that I had something very interesting.
Your characters have a great capacity to love, yet they’re starved. Why do you think this happens in fiction and in real life?
Hmmm. Heuer is a child of the Cold War and a baby boomer, which means his views are very out of step with the current times. In the Eighties, he obsessively reads Ayn Rand, votes Republican and walks around wearing a button that says “Cruise On” in support of cruise missile testing. He does this not out of any enduring belief, but out of a need to enrage. He is rocking his own version of what a “bad guy” is. And it works: women are curious about him, but don’t venture near very often, and he’s fine with that. He sees ‘love’ as a commodity that can be traded up or down. And he can leave relationships behind as long as he has a photo trophy or two to mull over. It’s baggage, I guess. That’s what empties the glass.
Without giving spoilers, would you say you’re a “happy ending” writer?
I certainly like definitive conclusions. Cliff hangers and Whaaa Happened? doesn’t really do it for me and so I wouldn’t want to do that to anyone good enough to read my stuff. So I’m in the business of delivering endings that hopefully make the reader happy, even if, by pure definition, the plot circumstance is not.
What would you like to be remembered for?
Epithets? Wow. I want to be remembered for being kind. It’s a quality that doesn’t always come easily, but I consciously work at it and am getting better for it.
If you could dine with any historical figure living or dead, who would it be and why?
The Actor
The Real Thing
This changes year to year. Currently, I’d have to go with John Graves Simcoe*, first Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada, and scourge of Long Island during the Revolutionary War. I love AMC and their current historical drama TURN: Washington’s Spies. It’s a potboiler. Simcoe is not only bad, he’s vile; yet he’s staunchly committed. A Royalist defending his country against republican marauders, he puts everything second to that first. He’s a bad, bad guy, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. I’d love to know how he lives with himself and then probably give him a good kick in the a**.
Past, present or future? Where does your mind dwell?
When I was young, I fell victim to the romantic past. I came of age in the Eighties, so naturally I believed that the Sixties had to be the be all and end all. Like Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris protagonist, I believed that satisfaction rested in what had already passed. Now at the half century (gawd that sounds old) I have fully come to my senses. The Eighties hold a lot of fond memories for me, but I have no desire to revisit them. The best time of my life is NOW and the next thing coming...whatever that is.
What informs your writing most?
Music! Music affects me a lot. I have the radio going morning till night and I’ll listen to anything from alt to classical to jazz to rock to pop to hip hop. I’ll actually pick my music depending on where I am in the story. If it’s an angry point, I might put on Slipknot or Rammstein.
Growing up in the Seventies, school kids were encouraged to think globally and act locally. Have you ever flirted with this philosophy?
Sure. I try to keep current and it amazes me how major issues disappear when someone in Hollywood gets married or divorced. But that’s always been a condition of pop culture. I mull things. I try to be thoughtful. Some of it actually makes it into the mouths of my characters which is great. If there’s to be controversy, let it come from them.
Guilty pleasures: we all have them. What is yours?
Frat boy comedies. DUDE, WHERE’S MY CAR is a favorite along with ANIMAL HOUSE and anything coming from camp Apatow.
Your greatest victory?
Going back to school at age 39 and graduating third in the class. *yah!*
Tell us about the one that got away. Person, place or thing.
It was a car. A real beauty and a classic. But I didn’t have the money to buy her, so I made her a character instead. (smiles)
What are some of the overriding themes in your work? Do you have a favorite?
I’m always rocking nostalgia, but not in the way some might expect. I like memories as much as anyone else, but I don’t live in them, so a number one theme in Heuer is that nostalgia hurts more than it helps. Another one, and this really is a pet peeve, is that prying into someone’s business really is a lousy thing to do. The business of suspicious spouses cum private eyes appears routinely in advice columns where they ask permission from the columnist to break into their loved ones email. I can’t abide that. As far as I know it’s still a punishable offense to read someone’s snail mail, so why should electronic communications be any different? The mortician character Enid wrestles with this in HEUER LOST AND FOUND. She doesn’t break into his computer, but she does go through his things, and she feels terrible about it. Which brings me to my final theme: some questions don’t need answers. Enid is committed to finding out what happened to him, but does she really need to know in order to love him? That one has to be my all time fave.
Who do you admire and why?
Anyone who can take on a task and finish it. That’s commitment. That’s saying something about what a person is and what they can be.
Are writers fully formed works of art or works in progress?
Hee hee.
Author Questionnaire
What are your thoughts on muses and do you have one?
Muses are mythical, compelling creatures credited with facilitating masterworks that otherwise would have never been. Alma Mahler and Helga Testorf come to mind along with that whole thing George Sand and Chopin had going on. I have to say that the Heuer character is richer because of a couple of guy buddies who endured my pestering to look over scenes and dialogue for male “authenticity”. They had plenty to say: “guys don’t think like that” “guys don’t care about that” etc. I took about half of their suggestions; the rest is creative license. Heuer is complicated, so the reactions he got from my muses told me that I had something very interesting.
Your characters have a great capacity to love, yet they’re starved. Why do you think this happens in fiction and in real life?
Hmmm. Heuer is a child of the Cold War and a baby boomer, which means his views are very out of step with the current times. In the Eighties, he obsessively reads Ayn Rand, votes Republican and walks around wearing a button that says “Cruise On” in support of cruise missile testing. He does this not out of any enduring belief, but out of a need to enrage. He is rocking his own version of what a “bad guy” is. And it works: women are curious about him, but don’t venture near very often, and he’s fine with that. He sees ‘love’ as a commodity that can be traded up or down. And he can leave relationships behind as long as he has a photo trophy or two to mull over. It’s baggage, I guess. That’s what empties the glass.
Without giving spoilers, would you say you’re a “happy ending” writer?
I certainly like definitive conclusions. Cliff hangers and Whaaa Happened? doesn’t really do it for me and so I wouldn’t want to do that to anyone good enough to read my stuff. So I’m in the business of delivering endings that hopefully make the reader happy, even if, by pure definition, the plot circumstance is not.
What would you like to be remembered for?
Epithets? Wow. I want to be remembered for being kind. It’s a quality that doesn’t always come easily, but I consciously work at it and am getting better for it.
If you could dine with any historical figure living or dead, who would it be and why?
The Actor
The Real Thing
This changes year to year. Currently, I’d have to go with John Graves Simcoe*, first Lieutenant Governor of Upper Canada, and scourge of Long Island during the Revolutionary War. I love AMC and their current historical drama TURN: Washington’s Spies. It’s a potboiler. Simcoe is not only bad, he’s vile; yet he’s staunchly committed. A Royalist defending his country against republican marauders, he puts everything second to that first. He’s a bad, bad guy, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. I’d love to know how he lives with himself and then probably give him a good kick in the a**.
Past, present or future? Where does your mind dwell?
When I was young, I fell victim to the romantic past. I came of age in the Eighties, so naturally I believed that the Sixties had to be the be all and end all. Like Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris protagonist, I believed that satisfaction rested in what had already passed. Now at the half century (gawd that sounds old) I have fully come to my senses. The Eighties hold a lot of fond memories for me, but I have no desire to revisit them. The best time of my life is NOW and the next thing coming...whatever that is.
What informs your writing most?
Music! Music affects me a lot. I have the radio going morning till night and I’ll listen to anything from alt to classical to jazz to rock to pop to hip hop. I’ll actually pick my music depending on where I am in the story. If it’s an angry point, I might put on Slipknot or Rammstein.
Growing up in the Seventies, school kids were encouraged to think globally and act locally. Have you ever flirted with this philosophy?
Sure. I try to keep current and it amazes me how major issues disappear when someone in Hollywood gets married or divorced. But that’s always been a condition of pop culture. I mull things. I try to be thoughtful. Some of it actually makes it into the mouths of my characters which is great. If there’s to be controversy, let it come from them.
Guilty pleasures: we all have them. What is yours?
Frat boy comedies. DUDE, WHERE’S MY CAR is a favorite along with ANIMAL HOUSE and anything coming from camp Apatow.
Your greatest victory?
Going back to school at age 39 and graduating third in the class. *yah!*
Tell us about the one that got away. Person, place or thing.
It was a car. A real beauty and a classic. But I didn’t have the money to buy her, so I made her a character instead. (smiles)
What are some of the overriding themes in your work? Do you have a favorite?
I’m always rocking nostalgia, but not in the way some might expect. I like memories as much as anyone else, but I don’t live in them, so a number one theme in Heuer is that nostalgia hurts more than it helps. Another one, and this really is a pet peeve, is that prying into someone’s business really is a lousy thing to do. The business of suspicious spouses cum private eyes appears routinely in advice columns where they ask permission from the columnist to break into their loved ones email. I can’t abide that. As far as I know it’s still a punishable offense to read someone’s snail mail, so why should electronic communications be any different? The mortician character Enid wrestles with this in HEUER LOST AND FOUND. She doesn’t break into his computer, but she does go through his things, and she feels terrible about it. Which brings me to my final theme: some questions don’t need answers. Enid is committed to finding out what happened to him, but does she really need to know in order to love him? That one has to be my all time fave.
Who do you admire and why?
Anyone who can take on a task and finish it. That’s commitment. That’s saying something about what a person is and what they can be.
Are writers fully formed works of art or works in progress?
Hee hee.
