Apropos of Nothing: Debbie Bennett Answers 5 Questions

Debbie has been writing since primary school and hand-wrote her first novel at age fourteen in a fancy ring-binder. After that inspiring debut, she wrote several (mostly unpublishable) novels on a manual typewriter and later computer, until an agency contract in the 1990s led her to think she might actually be good at it.

She’s worked in law enforcement for over 25 years, in a variety of different roles (both front-line and back-office), which may be why the darker side of life tends to emerge in her writing. In 2005, she was long-listed (top 25) for the Crime Writers Association Debut Dagger Award, which gave her the self-confidence to independently publish the crime novel Hamelin’s Child on Kindle and other e-outlets in 2011, closely followed by a young-adult fantasy, Edge of Dreams, and a collection of short (and not-so-short) stories, Maniac & Other Stories.

She spent nine years editing and publishing anthologies, newsletters and other publications for the British Fantasy Society, and has had numerous short stories in print in a variety of outlets, from award-nominated anthologies to women’s magazines. She’s also reviewed for the BFS and Starburst magazine and was a reader for a national short-story competition for many years.

www.debbiebennett.co.uk has links to all my books on multiple platforms.

www.authorselectric.co.uk where I blog on 6th every month about ebooks, writing and anything else.

What kind of emergency scares you the most?

OK. Over-the-top answer here as I’m going to say what immediately springs to mind… nuclear war! I said it was OTT, didn’t I!? I was born in the mid-‘60s and remember a lot of news surrounding the Cold War as I was growing up. And then I saw the BBC drama Threads in 1984, which terrified me (I have it on DVD and it still scares me as an adult). I live near to Hack Green nuclear bunker in Cheshire which is now open to the public – they have public-information documents on display there that I remember seeing in the house as a child.

Oh and anything involving my beautiful and talented teenage daughter!

Which of your senses do you value most?

Definitely sight. I’ve been short-sighted since I was a child and worn contact lenses from age seventeen. My eyes are less tolerant now, so I’m stuck with glasses a lot more – and I hate them. My husband and daughter have perfect vision and neither of them appreciates it.

What would you like to receive on your next birthday?

A contract for a film option on one of my books? Not likely, I guess, so I’ll settle for something Eeyore. Most of my birthdays have been Eeyore themed, from cakes to slippers to cuddly toys. I like Eeyore.

Describe the funeral service you would like held for you.

Gosh, that’s a question I’ve never had before. Something low-key and not too sad. I think funerals should be a celebration of life, not death. If I could watch, I’d like to know what I’ve meant to the people I care about and maybe people could share happy memories. Most of all, I’d like people to think I did something useful with my life and didn’t waste or squander it.

Share a compliment you received recently.

“Mum, you look really nice!” Said by my 16 year-old in a surprised tone of voice as though mum and looking nice don’t usually belong in the same sentence. Generally I’m a source of entertainment at best, and embarrassment at worst, especially when I’m wearing – heaven forbid – a denim jacket or jogging pants (not together – even I draw the line there). I can’t recall just what it was I was wearing at the time either.

To learn more about Debbie and her work, please visit:

Her Webpage

Do Authors Dream of Electric Books? (where she blogs on the 6^th of each month)

Wow, Debbie! Thanks so much for stopping by! I remember being truly terrified of nuclear war once upon a time – I guess other fears have overwritten those of the Cold War era.

On Monday, Southern author Rosemary Smith will be answering five questions. You’ll want to read her answers! 

Apropos of Nothing: Kristina Howells Answers 5 Questions

Kristina Howells is a published author and poet. She currently lives in Calais in France, and she is a British expat. She has written non-fiction and fiction works, including A Hatter goes Mad, Te Deum, Una voce, Lettre Fatale, Making sense of the Genesis Flood, Making sense of the Life of Christ, Law and Gospel,  and Les Delices de Calais.

She recent took part for the first time in the June Camp NaNoWriMo. At this camp, she had to write 50,000 words or more within 30 days. She is glad to say that her new novel, Lovers in a Bag, is almost finished. All she can reveal is there are two funerals and a wedding.

However, since her publishers have gone out of business due to the credit crisis, she now self-publishes using Lulu.com and Createspace. She says it is easy to publish without paying for it when you know how.

Make a statement about honesty.

Honesty is very important. Lies will one day always catch up with you. I’d rather be honest and then face the consequences.

Describe an ideal vacation.

My ideal vacation is lying in a hammock on a tropical island, and writing a book without any disruptions.

What would you like to receive on your next birthday?

I am forty soon. So for my next birthday I would like to receive a 64 GB tablet so I can store all my electronic books.

Say something about resentment.

There is a lot of resentment in the world. I think as I have got older I try to not look back or dwell on things that cause me to resent the situation. I’d rather get my own back by writing about that person and publishing it as a short story or poem. Then get over them. The best I can.

What color would you use to describe yourself? Why?

A very good question; In fact I love the colour pink. It is bright and clear. It is a fun colour too. I like to have fun especially after I am at a party. But then if I was to describe my mood. I am at the moment very tired from this writing camp so I would say my mood is a murky brown colour. It most probably will return to pink the 1st of July.

To learn more about Kristina and her work, please visit:

Her Smashwords Profile

Her Wordpress Blog

Amazon

Price Minister

What a pleasure to have Kristina visit all the way from France! Merci beaucoup, Kristina! I wonder: do you warn your enemies that they might become a character in one of your novels?

Stop by in Sunday, July 15^th, to find out Ey Wade’s favorite holiday and much more!

Apropos of Nothing: Laurie Boris Answers 5 Questions

Laurie Boris is a freelance writer, editor, proofreader, and former graphic designer with a long history of ignoring housework and pots on the stove to sneak in “just a few more pages” of her novels. Her first novel, The Joke’s on Me, took an Honorable Mention in the 2012 Beach Book Festival. Drawing Breath, a contemporary coming-of-age novel, is her latest book. When not playing with the universe of imaginary people in her head, she enjoys baseball, cooking, reading, and helping aspiring novelists as a contributing writer and editor for IndiesUnlimited.com. She lives in New York’s lovely Hudson Valley with her husband.

Share your feelings about changing jobs.
I like changing jobs better when it’s my choice. Several times it hasn’t been. I like learning new skills and applying them in different ways. The part-time job I just started (I write the rest of the time) is fantastic. After working at home for virtual people for the last seven years, I wasn’t sure what to expect or how well I’d cope with suddenly having coworkers in the same office, and having to remember, for example, to get dressed or brush my hair. But my colleagues are nice, and funny, and very good at what they do. They even share their snacks with me.

Talk about newspapers and how they affect your life.
They are very nice for catching the pumpkin glop when you’re making jack o’lanterns. Ironic, since I used to write for one. I was the “vacation correspondent,” which is not as glamorous as it seems. I’d cover school board and other board (and boring) meetings for vacationing correspondents. This amounted to sitting on a metal folding chair for four hours, drafting the salient points in my head on the way home, and filing the story by midnight. The best part is that I get to use that experience in my next book. Nothing is wasted!

Describe the kind of house you would most like to own.
Self-cleaning. Dry basement. Gourmet kitchen. Overlooking a lovely body of water. With a separate wing for my husband.

If you could have a committee of 3 people (living or dead) to help you make decisions, whom would you choose?
Okay, I’m leaving my family out of it so I don’t hurt anyone’s feelings by choosing one and not the other. But I’d like to call on George Carlin, Dorothy Parker, and Winston Churchill. This would be a brain trust of practical wisdom and humor. They’d also remind me not to take myself too seriously.

How do you want to spend the last day of your life? 
Writing. Then hanging out with my family. Hopefully, someone will bring cookies.

To learn more about Laurie and her work, please visit:
Her Amazon Author Page
Her Barnes & Noble Page
Her Blog/Website
Indies Unlimited
Her Facebook Page

Thanks, Laurie! Dorothy Parker is a personal favorite of mine as well, though I don't know that I'd trust her advice on anything beyond what to order at a bar. I recently reviewed Laurie's latest novel, Drawing Breath. You can read that review here. I understand it is free today on Amazon. Be sure to check it out.


I'm taking a short break for Independence Day. The interviews will resume on July 5, 2012, with  Susanna Catherine Mahoney.

Apropos of Nothing: M. Edward McNally Answers 5 Questions

Ed McNally is the typical North Carolina born, Midwestern raised, present-day Phoenecian of Irish/Mexican descent. He stayed in school until they gave him five degrees just to go away, and now writes Epic Fantasy. Typical.


Talk about your favorite sport and why you like it.
Here’s the thing. The whole Irish side of the family settled in Chicago in the early 20th Century, though since then the McNallys have moved all around the country (I’m a case in point). Our love of Chicago Bears football has become a weird touchstone whenever we get together, as it is the one thing we all still seem to have in common. It’s about family.

Say something about hitchhiking.
A relic of the past, I guess? Seriously, it seems like there was a time in this country when it was a viable way to travel. Now it’s the opening scene of a horror movie, or an episode of Criminal Minds.

Say something about alcoholic beverages.
“Whiskey” comes from the Gaelic word usquebaugh (more or less), which means “Water of Life.” I’ll drink to that.

Tell about a time when you felt successful.
The first short story I had published was in a Lit journal back in the early 90’s. As soon as I got a copy, I took it to a park, sat on a bench, and read it three or four times. That was a good afternoon.

Make a statement about honesty.
Fiction writers make stuff up for a living, and tell stories about stuff that never happened to people who don’t exist. Because of that, we have to be far more honest than the practitioners of most professions.

To learn more about Ed and his work, please visit:
His Amazon Author Page
His Blog
His Smashwords Page

Thanks, Ed, for stopping by and agreeing to be my first guinea...I mean, guest. My next guest will be LB Clark.

Book Review: Tell a Thousand Lies

Rasana Atreya’s Tell a Thousand Lies is, at least to this Westernized reader, a riff on the Cinderella story. This very promising debut novel is an enjoyable read. Atreya’s dialogue is believable, and the settings, all in India, are well presented.

The heroine, an unlovely (in her own opinion) Indian girl from a poor family living in a small village, suddenly finds herself promoted to regional goddess, thanks to an unscrupulous politician. The prince, who happens to be the grandson of the same politician, whisks her away from the village in hopes of creating a “happily ever after” for the two of them. What follows is a soap-opera-like plot with twists and turns galore – perhaps a few too many for the writer to keep up with. For instance, a character is clearly called out as “barren” a third of the way through the novel, yet her childlessness is later blamed on the men she married (one replaces her with another woman whom he still cannot impregnate and the other refuses to sleep with her). Despite this, I found the overall effect of the novel to be charming.

Though I spotted a few typos, they weren’t numerous. As an Indian writer, Atreya uses British spelling, which can throw some readers who aren’t used to novels written by non-Americans.  

I look forward with great interest to this novelist’s next effort.

Why You Should Pay for Books

Writer Wordart (Photo credit: MarkGregory007)

This morning, I read a blog post by my friend, Alan Jobe, regarding the trend toward pricing e-books at “free.” Alan has been reviewing books for a number of years and worked in a library, so I know the man has a strong appreciation for the written word. His thoughts on the subject were enlightening. This post is written in response.

As someone who has been a full-time novelist for nearly three years (thanks mostly to the faith and patience of my hard-working husband), I can tell you that being a writer is no way to make a living.

The truth is that, while publishing has gotten easier, finding an audience has become increasingly difficult. I am thankful to have a fair number of vocal readers, most of whom have paid for every book I've written. With each book I write, I hope to pick up more of these readers. Progress is slow, though. And my dream has a deadline. Without a larger audience, I will be forced to return to editing full time in the near future, which means I will likely stop writing entirely.

So, how do you build an audience in today's publishing market? With a glut of terribly written novels competing against others of higher quality, it is no surprise that "free" is often the only way to get a "new-to-you" writer onto the average e-reader. After that, the quality of the work is the only tool the writer has in getting readers to buy another of his or her books.

Alan argues that he has no reason to buy a book when he can get so many for free. If you agree with his argument, please keep this in mind: if writing becomes a “non-profit” industry – so to speak – readers will soon find themselves in a barren literary wasteland. That’s not to say there won’t be books – there will be millions of them! But none of them will be fresh and new, because no one will be writing anymore.

My plea is this: if you read a free book and enjoy it, buy one of the author’s other books. Most e-books cost about what you would pay for a cup of coffee or maybe a fast-food hamburger. If you read a new author and love their work, tell your friends! There is no shortage of e-books, so there’s no reason to horde all the good writers for yourself.

Book Review: The Abbey by Chris Culver

Sometimes the cream really does rise to the top. Such is the case with Chris Culver’s The Abbey, a well-written, engaging novel that has become a national bestseller.

This thriller follows Detective Ash Rashid as he searches for answers after his teenaged niece’s mysterious death. Ash is Muslim in a way that many Americans will not recognize: a secularized semi-alcoholic man who just wants to live his version of the American dream. To put it another way, he is the Muslim equivalent of a C&E Christian; he prays more out of habit than faith and twists his faith’s teaching on alcohol to fit his circumstances. His niece is also a less-than-faithful Muslim, whose taste for adventure leads her to an untimely death.

This is one of the best indie novels I have read, full stop. Culver’s writing style is fluid and compelling. Every character – even the ones who only had walk-on parts – felt authentic and fleshed out. Although I spotted one continuity issue, it was a minor point. With just a few grammatical errors (mostly having to do with the proper use of hyphens), this book qualifies as an excellent read.

Chris Culver has revived my interest in reviewing indie authors. If only all indie writers took as much pride in their work as he does, we would gain the respected position in the literary world to which we aspire.

Novel of the Month: The Thief of Todays and Tomorrows

Set in the post-WWII era, The Thief of Todays and Tomorrows follows the life of a young couple, Katie and Francis DeLucia, as they struggle to make a good life for themselves and their son. Francis unwittingly winds up a pawn for the Outfit, Chicago's version of the mafia. Katie is pulled into a world of glamour and danger she never imagined -- and never wanted.

Through research and interviews with people who lived in Chicago and Phoenix during the 1940s and 1950s, I worked to create an authentic world in which my characters could come to life. If you would like to read an excerpt of this novel, you can do so here.

Here are a few of the wonderful reviews this novel has received:



"[T]his is a rollercoaster ride, that leaves you wringing out your emotions." --Cathy Speight


"I had to put it down, from time to time, because the story was so full of emotion, so tender and sad and true that I found it almost overwhelming....[the book] is a little masterpiece that carries the reader away to another time and another way of life, not very far removed from our present life but, under some aspects, light years away from it." --Annarita Guarnieri


You can find this novel at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, CreateSpace, and other retailers across the web. It retails for $2.99 in all e-formats and $12.99 in print.

#SampleSunday: An Excerpt from Wild Life

Despite an essentially lifelong estrangement from Brian, Milo still expected that moving to Arizona would repair their relationship. Brian, however, seemed less than thrilled when Milo parked a U-Haul truck in his driveway. “How long are you staying?”

“Indefinitely,” Milo repeated. “It’s high time I got to know my grandchildren better, don’t you think?” He glanced toward the surprisingly pasty boy and girl and winked.

“Children, go to your rooms.” As if on cue, they rose and disappeared, leaving Milo alone with Brian and his sour-faced chestnut-haired wife who looked very much like dead Alice, in Milo’s opinion.

“What are my children’s names?” Brian queried.

“That’s just bad parenting, Brian. You ought to know your own children’s names.”

Brian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I do know their names. The question is: do you?”

“Oh.” Milo swallowed uncomfortably. “I know what this is about.”

“Do you?” Brian cocked an eyebrow at his father. His wife scooted closer to him, laying a calming hand on his knee.

“Of course. I’ve never forgotten that day. I’m normally so good with faces…”

“You couldn’t recognize me in a crowd of children.”

“To be fair, Brian, you were all wearing the same uniform.”

“I’m your son!”

“And Minnesota does have a large population of towheaded children.”

“Name my children.”

“Alice Marie and Eric Thomas.”

“You see, darling? Your father knows their names. He just wants to be part of the family.”

“Why thank you, Millie.”

She frowned. “Marla.”

They let him stay on the pullout sofa. He wasn’t allowed to sleep past seven o’clock in the morning, because Marla had OCD and couldn’t leave the house without the living room tidied. Brian worked long hours as a DEA agent and Marla spent her days volunteering for the children’s school. Unable to sit and watch television for hours on end, Milo wandered the new city, boredom always at his heels. He visited the museums, the botanical garden, and the zoos. When the civic amenities were exhausted, he took to the antique stores. Before long, he developed a passion for film cameras. He identified with them on a subconscious level – they, too, were obsolete.

He emptied the contents of the U-Haul truck into a storage locker, wondering the whole time why he had bothered to bring the forty-year-old furniture and decorations with him. When he accidentally dropped a box full of knick-knacks and heard them crash to pieces, he looked around guiltily for dead Alice. She wasn’t there. He sighed with relief and dumped the whole box in the garbage without even opening it to see if anything was salvageable.

To buy Wild Life, Book One of the Brass Monkey series in e-book format:

Amazon.com *** Smashwords.com *** Barnes & Noble

To buy Wild Life or any of my novels in print, visit Inknbeans.com.

#SampleSunday: An Excerpt from Wild Life (My Latest Novel)

For Sample Sunday, please enjoy a bit of my latest novel, Wild Life. In the scene below, Milo meets Sondra Lane, a former Hollywood actress, at his neighborhood bar. If you enjoy the sample, buy the book! It's only $2.99 at Smashwords or Amazon.

Buy Wild Life at Amazon: click here!

He had been so focused on the television that he hadn’t noticed the woman who took the stool next to him until she tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, handsome, slide that bowl of pretzels this way, will you?”

He glanced to his right and found a thin woman with brightly dyed red hair and cigarette lines around her mouth. Milo slid the bowl her way, noting that she used to be beautiful – he could see it in her bone structure if not in her actual face. Now, she was merely attractive. “Here you go.”

“Hey, Sax!”

“Yeah, Sondra?” the bartender answered.

“This gentleman wants to buy me a drink. Whiskey sour, sweetie.”

Sax raised his eyebrows at Milo, looking for confirmation.

Milo smiled and gave an affirming nod.

“I’m Sondra Lane,” she said, turning herself to offer her hand for him to shake.

“Milo.”

“You’re new here.”

“Yes.”

“You live in ‘sin city’?”

He recognized the unofficial moniker of his retirement community: Sun City had recently been outed as having a surprisingly large number of people carrying sexually transmitted diseases. “I take it you’re not?”

“Not yet.” She smiled seductively. “Where are you from?”

“Illinois by way of Minnesota. You?”

“California. I was an actress.”

He sipped his beer and nodded.

She gave him her most beguiling smile, seemingly unaware that the years had taken their toll on it. “You may have seen me in Siege of the Moon. That was my biggest role. I played Sunrise Aeon, the leader of the Martian battle forces.”

“I’m afraid not.”

She shrugged. “It’s a crapshoot. About one out of every ten guys I meet recognize me. Women usually remember me from my recurring role on this old soap opera back in the Seventies.”

He looked at her again and instantly knew who she was. “Carmella Savage!”

She drew back and gave him an appraising look. “You don’t look gay.”

He chuckled. “I’m not. My wife loved Scions of Beauty.”

“Apparently the audience was housewives and every gay man in America. I could sign an autograph for you to take to her…”

“She died a few years back.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Milo thought that, for an actress, her delivery of the line was a little too upbeat. Sax finally arrived with her drink. She inhaled it like a camel that had spent a week too long in the desert. He signaled Sax to bring her another, digging a twenty out of his wallet. “Why’d you move to Arizona?”

“I had to get out of L.A. The city was killing me. My daughter lives here and she asked me to come and stay with her for a while. You?”

“My son’s family.”

“Sometimes I wonder what the draw is,” she said. “I mean, what brings all these people to this God-forsaken dustbowl of a city?” She sucked a long ice cube slowly into her mouth, her eyes meeting his over the rim of the glass.

Discreetly readjusting himself, he answered, “People always think they’re going to love the heat.”

She released the poor, melted ice cube and it dropped, exhausted, to the bottom of the glass. “Do you?”

“I’m adjusting.” He hadn’t thought of sex in a very long time. He knew that for a man to so completely sublimate sexual urges was unusual, but, between his high-blood-pressure medicine and his lack of desire for dead Alice, he had taken all of his sexual energy and diverted it into his work. In fact, he was currently experiencing his first hard-on since 1987. He had forgotten just how much blood was required to maintain an erection and wasn’t exactly sure why he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the not-quite-lovely Sondra.

“I only come here because they keep their air conditioner set so low. My daughter doesn’t want the air in her house any cooler than eighty degrees. It’s so hot I just want to walk around in the nude!”

Milo reached up and wiped the sweat from his upper lip. His brain was no longer able to form complete sentences. “My house cool.”

Sax put another drink in front of Sondra and gave Milo a look that seemed to say you poor bastard.